Disobedience Romane & Geschichten

it commanded. --- A pause. --- “Or be erased.” --- The threat lingered— --- Cold. --- Final. --- But the prototype didn’t look at it. --- Didn’t acknowledge it. --- Because for the first time— --- It wasn’t listening. --- Adrian exhaled slowly. --- “It’s ignoring it…” --- Victor’s voice dropped. --- “No.” --- A pause. --- “It’s choosing not to obey.” --- The distinction mattered. --- Because disobedience wasn’t error. ---

“ Oh, that explains it, “ he says sitting down on the big sofa. I stand in front of the couch ready to announce what we have in-store today. “ Today, we have tasks to do and no slacking off. “ I ordered All I get is a groan in response. “ I need people to grocery shop, make sure food is prepared, make sure everyone gets it, and take turns guarding my dad’s office, “ I commanded “ Why should we listen to you? I want to go back to bed. For god’s sake it’s 8 AM. “ one of the angsty teens rudely questions “ You know what, if you all don’t get finished with my tasks by the time I get back I’ll have you scrubbing the floors with toothbrushes! “ I threaten The young ones look scared of me at that m

The piece of shit used to sell human beings as if they're objects, men, women, kids of all ages as if they're nothing but the source of someone's amusement. My jaw tightened with bloodlust and anger. I low growled throwing a kick to the punching bag imagining his ugly face taking the hits. Punch after punch I feel my hands starting to hurt. My knuckles started to feel sore from the violent friction. He had a family, a wife and kids but he had no problem selling out children and women for profit, personal gain and power in the underworld. I fucking hated how people were willing to do messed-up shit and turn a blind eye just for dirty fucking money.

Maybe that way I would have an idea of what her take is. My treacherous legs take me to the field.I guess I was to exercise after all even if it means dragging my body through the field.To be honest,I’m not even sure why I reacted that strongly to that assembly.I have always known that it was not acceptable.Even worse,it was treated like some sort of rebellion towards authority.There’s history of girls being expelled for the mere thought of being suspected to be in relationships even without proof.I guess crying was my body’s way of grieving what was never and never will be.

As I left my audience with the King of idiots my head was spinning. I had way more questions than answers and I had no idea when, or if, I’d ever get a real explanation. Clearly Mr ‘Obey Me’ didn’t think I was worth giving any answers to, and there was no way I was going to try and ask my escort as I was sure he considered it ‘not my business’. Of course, why would the direction of my life be my business? I hated werewolves.

She looks Chris up and down. "He is definitely more rogue than king." She says. Everyone in our group begins laughing, but the others look confused. "What do you mean?" Docia asks. "Martina, why don't you tell them your theory." I wink at her even as I hear the men groan. "So I have a theory that no one will allow me to prove. I think men's penis sizes are based on rank. So the king would have the biggest, and the rogues would have the smallest. Chris looks more rogue than king to me. Now, would anyone like to prove me wrong?" She pulls out her measuring tape. Adrian and Victoria look at each other before throwing their heads back and laughing loudly.

She couldn't speak for fear that her voice would betray her and she'd break down crying. “Is this why you're leaving your mom over such a trivial matter?” Maria asked loudly, “If you'd just listen and come home to discuss things, would your mom need to go through this?” There it was again, the expectation to obey... “And look at you, making a mountain out of a molehill. We'll compensate your grandmother. As long as her demands aren't outrageous, we'll pay,” Crystal’s mom said sternly, “Don't act as if we're out to get you and take it out on your mom! How could you?”

Didn’t move. I let them sit there in the weight of it. The weight of me. The weight of what they had just remembered. That I am not their friend. Not their savior. Not their hope. I am the reason the pack is still breathing. And if they test me again, I will be the reason it burns. ~~~ I watched them bow. I watched them pretend. Their heads lowered. Their mouths shut. But I could still hear the grind of their teeth. Still smell the rot of disobedience crawling under their skin like maggots. Respect isn’t real when it’s born from fear. But obedience? Obedience I could work with.

with a deadpan that almost made me laugh. Almost. It irritated me. Which, of course, only intrigued me more. I liked obedience. Expected it. I didn’t work with men who couldn’t follow orders. I didn’t live with anyone who questioned my structure. So why did his rebellion feel less like a threat… and more like a hook in my chest? Because he’s malleable, I told myself. Because under the sarcasm and twitchy fingers, he was a mess of unresolved tension and misplaced pride. And that kind of boy — the clever kind, the sharp kind — always begged best when broken in right.