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The Lycan Brothers' Willing Toy

The Lycan Brothers' Willing Toy

Author:Dark Mage

Finished

Steamy Stories

Introduction
WARNING: This an extremely dark romance. **** Shivers raced through my spine at the dark, heated stares from them —the brothers I was about to pledge my body to. “Sweetheart, you need to know what you are getting into by joining the game,” Blue's voice startled me. I gulped as my eyes went to Fred's. His mouth went up in a smirk as his dark eyes roamed through my body. Desires and fear took hold of me as I glanced around their 'play house' I know what I'm signing up for by consenting to be their toy. Yet, I willingly took that step, to freedom, desire, and, worst of all —pain. **** As a journalist, Bella was determined to be the best. She was always taking jobs discarded or termed 'impossible' by others. However, she doesn't know what she signed up for when she agrees to interview the Christophos brothers —wealthy men who live in a spooky old castle. She thought it would be effortless despite the number of journalists who had failed to get any info on the brothers until she stepped foot into the compound. Unknown to the unsuspecting woman, she was in for a ride of her life with brothers who might not be as human as they seem… The game is about to begin... And it's the survival of the fittest...
SHOW ALL▼
Chapter

I stood in front of the imposing house as shivers went through my spine. I don't know what I was thinking when I agreed to take the job others discarded because of how impossible it was to bag an interview.

The Christophos brothers have been a myth for close to ten years now. They are the richest men in the entire country, yet no one has seen them. There have been major debates about their reasons for seclusion.

Their family has been existing for centuries, but it wasn't until ten years ago that a journalist discovered the brothers.

Though she didn't get any info on them, she got a backshot of the brothers. For ten years now, different journalists have tried to do the impossible by asking for an interview with them, but they have never responded.

Note how shocked I was when they replied to my message and set a date for the first meeting.

Everyone thought it was a scam when I showed it to them, but there I was, to show them that this young journalist was capable. I became what I am today because of my passion for knowing things that others don't or skid past without showing interest in them.

I checked the contents of my purse to be certain my phone and pepper spray were in there. Wouldn't want to be a victim if this was some sort of scam.

I glanced down at my choice of clothing. To make running easier for me, I wore black elastic pants and a red shirt. My blonde hair was tamed to perfection, yet a strand managed to escape from the hold.

I sighed.

This is it, Bella. Time for you to break heads. No, scratch that. Time for you to do the impossible.

I bagged an invitation, which was something none of the journalists who have dropped the job can boast of.

My hands shook as I walked towards the door. From the enormous gates to the door, there was no one in sight. Still, the entire place was neatly kept.

The mansion was Victorian-styled. It looked like every other house with the same style, yet it looked different. The off-white color used on it clashed with the silver zinc, making the building seem a bit …. Odd.

I walked to the door and tapped on it since there were no doorbells. I have only seen this type of house in a film. I was used to modern houses where you press the bell rather than knocking.

I didn't get a reply, so I knocked once more.

A creaking sound followed the last knock before the door opened.

“Hello, I'm Bella. I came…” I trailed off as I stared at the empty door, shocked to notice that there was no one standing behind it.

I blinked. “Hello?” I called out, still standing on the stairs.

My heart hammered in my chest, sounding so loud even to my ears. I gulped, peering into the house to know if this was a trick or something like that.

Not only was there no one by the door, the house was pitch black. The air around me felt heavy.

“Hello!" I shouted, hoping to get a reply from whoever opened the door.

When I heard no sound, I turned, aiming to leave. However, the thoughts of the knowing smile that would be on Imelda's face when she learned I failed made me decide to do something rash.

I stepped into the house. “He… llo!” I yelled when the door banged behind me. With my heart in my throat, I rushed back and tugged on it, only to notice the door was locked.

Shit!

I rummaged in my purse for the pepper spray and clutched it in my hands, staring into the dark, ready for whoever was playing tricks on me.

My heart was beating so loud it seemed like the organ was about to leap out of my chest. I swallowed, hoping that this wouldn't turn into a horror film or something like that.

I yelped when the entire place became awash with light. I had to blink, to get my eyes accustomed to it after staying in the dark.

“Who's there?” I called out as I glanced around the place, scared out of my wits, but still clutching the pepper spray as if it would save me from whatever was lurking in the dark.

I got no reply.

I was standing in the foyer, with doors on either side of me, but I didn't dare move. My legs shook, and my teeth chattered, yet I heard no sound.

It was as if I were the only one in the entire house. I glanced back at the door only to discover it had no keyhole, and neither was there any bolt in sight.

I silently glanced around, praying for this to be just a trick as I brought my phone out, only to discover there was no reception in this place.

What?

What the hell is going on here? Isn't this supposed to be the house of the richest, youngest billionaires? Why am I —

“Miss Cold.” A voice called out.

My heart slammed into my rib cage at the sound of the voice. I have heard my fair share of voices, but they can't be compared to this.

It sounded like the crackling of fire and the noise of a train that collided with each other. Raspy, strong, and terror-inducing.

My body continued to shake, and I gripped the paper spray, throwing my phone on the floor.

Instead of picking it up, I glanced around, trying to locate the voice that had just spoken to me.

“Miss Cold?”

The voice asked once more. This time, it sounded pissed.

“Yes!” I yelped out in fear.

God.

Should the person with this voice become a detective, people will confess to crimes they didn't commit.

“You are scaring her, brother," came another voice.

Unlike the first, this one sounded like melted chocolates. I sighed, feeling the need to hear the sound once more. For a moment, I forgot where I was, as the urge to listen to him speak increased.

“Come forward," the first voice ordered.

This time, his tone rang like the roaring of waves on a stormy night.

Against my better judgment, I took the first step. It was as if I were being controlled. The pepper spray and my purse clattered to the ground when I let them go, spurred by this urgency in me to do his bidding.

On the fourth step, I broke free from whatever hold that was on me. I stood still, wondering what just happened.

I heard a gasp before a murmured 'Impossible.'