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Her Toxic Desire Novel

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Captured by the Dragon
Ayoko: Webfic Paranormal##WARNING This story will contain. Strong sexual content, strong language, dark scenes about human trafficking. ##Fear instantly overcame my senses. I had been trafficked. They’re selling me to shifters. Shifters paid irresistible money to own human girls as sex slaves. **Everything was shaking all around me as if I was in the back of a moving car. An unpleasant smell that could have woken me from even my darkest dreams filled the air and convinced me that I was wide awake. Fear instantly overcame my senses. Where was I? What was I doing here? Who took me? “Help…” I tried to shout. My torn throat wouldn’t allow it. In my mind, images flashed of barbaric shifters standing outside that door. Big, tall and rough creatures that knew no manners and only wanted to claim things. I’d heard stories since I was old enough to understand that they favored pretty human girls and plucked them off the roads as if they were all free for the taking. **Patara tried to move back away from the handsome young man, but he held her firm. Squeezing her chin a little harder to keep her in place. His blue-grey, beautiful eyes looked over her every feature as if he wanted to burn the image in his mind. “Would you like me to take you away?” He asked in a husky voice. His words made her skin litter in goosebumps. She couldn’t speak, only nod desperately. “And what do you offer me in exchange for your rescue? Would you like to follow me?” Slowly, she nodded her head and put her hand in his. “Remember your promises,” he said against her ear. She held her breath. “The last person who betrayed me got to see what his insides looked like before I slit his throat.”
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Goodbye Scumbag, Hello True Love
Ayoko: Webfic all"I'm so over Cassandra." Aidan Ziegler sneers, swirling his wine glass with a lazy smirk. "A real woman is soft and sweet—like Clara. As for her..." In the corner, a glass suddenly shatters in a man's palm. Cassandra Callum stands frozen, holding the cake she made to celebrate their three-year anniversary, eyes locked on the blood trickling down from his sharply defined fingers. Tristan Freeman, head of Freeman Group, slowly wipes his hand clean. His dark gaze sweeps over her tear-reddened eyes. "Ms. Callum, would you like to marry me?" The city explodes with gossip. Everyone thinks a broke little designer has climbed her way into wealth and power— what no one knows is that this marriage is a trap Tristan set five years ago. His private gallery holds over a thousand sketches of her profile—from that day in sophomore year when she crouched in a rainy alley feeding a stray cat, to her backstage at a runway abroad, gently arranging jewelry. Late at night, he stares at security footage, cigarette in hand, as Aidan kneels in a storm, soaked and shaking. Tristan suddenly pulls his delicate wife into his arms. Later, a finance reporter captures the once cold and ruthless Tristan, down on one knee before Cassandra. His hands tremble as he holds a pregnancy test. Cassandra flashes her wedding ring and laughs softly. "Surprised, Mr. Freeman?" Tristan, once known for being sharp and vicious, blinks back tears, then presses a trembling kiss to the faded mark on her ring finger. "Cassie, when you were 22, I wanted to say..." "Say what?" He leans in, his voice hoarse as he whispers, "The cake was really sweet."
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