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Agust, An Alpha's Lycan King [BL]

she_osprey
"I hate you.” "Yet even untouched, you drip so thickly for me,” King Agust chuckled darkly. "Tell me, dripping Misha… Have you ever been fucked before?” *** Simply put, King Agustin Fedorov was the devil in plain clothes. A raging Lycan with an unwavering desire to wipe out werewolves, he was the ultimate danger to a race whose only mistake was sharing the same blood as that of his father— a werewolf alpha who ruined him and left him consumed by hatred. Like a mad king, Agust waged relentless wars to drive them into hiding. Until he met Mikhail Borisevich. Ruler of Kiyoto, the last standing werewolf pack, Alpha Mikhail was everything Agust despised yet could not ignore; fearless, defiant, powerful, and unforgiving, with a deep hatred for the Lycan king. So much so that when he learned they were mates, Mikhail rejected Agust on the very day they met. And Agust… took it as a challenge. But when his Lycan army attacked Kiyoto without his approval, Agust burned them all, triggering a revolution. Even then, the only thing Agust cared for was the one man who made him weak in the knees. Alpha Mikhail... His Misha. Would Agust win both wars?
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The Dark Prince's Lover

The dance ended with a final, graceful spin. Lord Greyson released Dydra with a courteous smile, his admiration lingering in his eyes as he gave a slight bow. “A pleasure, as always,” he said lightly. Dydra returned the smile out of habit, though her thoughts were already elsewhere. She gave a small excuse and stepped away, her gaze drifting across the ballroom as if searching for something—someone. But whatever she sought, she did not find. A faint frown creased her brows. Without another word, she turned and slipped out of the ballroom, heading toward the quiet of the garden. The cool night air should have calmed her. It didn’t. “You’re letting other men touch you?” The voice came from behind her—low, unhurried… almost lazy. But Dydra’s entire body reacted instantly. A sharp shiver ran through her. She didn’t need to turn to know who it was. That voice carried something unmistakable beneath its calm surface—something restrained. Something dangerous. “I—it’s not—” Her voice broke mid-sentence. Panic tightened her throat as cold sweat formed along her skin. “Need I remind you,” he continued evenly, each word measured, “who you belong to?” The calmness was the most terrifying part. Not anger. Not shouting. Just control—tight, absolute control. Dydra parted her trembling lips again, but no sound came. Her mind went blank. Then suddenly— A hand closed around her waist. Firm. Possessive. Her breath caught as her eyes squeezed shut on instinct, her body going still. “Dydra,” his voice dropped to a whisper, closer now. “Who do you belong to?”
Lizzie_4218 · 141.3k Views

Chased by two billionaires

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Benita_Adiukwu · 58.7k Views