Re Zero Regulus Novels & Stories

Welcome to the anthology that will leave you soaked, shaking, and begging to be next. Twisted women who thought they could walk away untouched. Possessive, unhinged men who made sure they never would. These men come for you in the dark corners of your life. These men don’t ask. They take. They take you until your thighs shake and your voice breaks. They edge you with filthy touches until you’re begging for the penetration they withhold just to watch you break. And the women? They’re not sweet innocents anymore. They’re bad girls who teased too hard, virgins who secretly ached to be wrecked, heartbroken sluts who spread for revenge, secretaries who sabotage just to feel the whip of punishment, students who hack grades to earn a professor’s cruel cock. They fight. They curse. They hate how much they crave it. Then they shatter—screaming, dripping, marked, owned. Every story drips with taboo heat: Men that don’t share unless they decide you’re worth passing around. Women that don’t escape, but beg to be ruined again. Warning: If you like romance with feelings and fade-to-black, run now. If you want to be left soaked, aching, and haunted by possessive daddies who wreck you senseless and call you their filthy little slut… Open the book. Spread your legs. Let them ruin you. One touch. One bite. One night… and you’re ruined for anyone else. One page in, and you’ll be touching yourself like the desperate slvt you were born to be. EXTREME CONTENT WARNING!!! This anthology is pure, unfiltered dark erotica. If you are triggered by any of the following, STOP READING Dubious/non-consensual consent Age gaps Voyeurism Step-family/taboo Daddy kink & heavy degradation Public sex Gangbangs, double/triple penetration, reverse harems BDSM

My husband, Matthew Glover, fabricates a scandal to help his childhood sweetheart, reporter Melanie Reed, boost her numbers. "Mrs. Glover Sleeps Around—Multiple Affairs Lead to Repeated Miscarriages." He uses it as a gimmick to grab attention. Next thing I know, my name's in the mud and the internet's tearing me to pieces. When I bring up divorce, Matthew says I'm blowing things out of proportion. "Melanie just started at the TV station. If she doesn't deliver, her coworkers will laugh at her. You're just doing her a favor. It's not like you're actually losing anything." I don't even bother arguing with him. I simply push the divorce agreement toward him. "If you want to help her, go ahead. But we're getting divorced!"

Triplet Alphas and one Omega, the fun is about to begin. Rainee is an Omega and her life is a sudden mess as she is being accused of stealing from her company, she loses her job, her house and now she's dead broke. She has no other option than to go to her step brothers for help. she's dreading the very idea of living with them under one roof because of how they had bullied her for years, but now they're different, now they're hot and attractive young men, now they're Alpha Kings...now all they want to do is unclothe her and show her what real pleasure is. Unknown to her, she is fated to be their mate. Before her arrival they came together with a plan on how to torture her but now she's here in their arms, all they want is to fuck her without scaring her away. NOT FOR ANYONE UNDER 18

Do you think you're worthy of me?" Maverick spat out ruthlessly, "You're just a weak human, and you're not worthy of being my future Luna. You should just go and die!" —- Jolene had always been eager for her chosen mate until she discovered that her mate was Maverick, the alpha's son. He rejected her because she was a weak human, unlike the other strong females. As if that wasn't enough, Jolene also discovered that her parents weren't her real parents. Discovering that everything about her life was a lie, Jolene decided to commit suicide. Maybe if she died she would find comfort, but what if there was a new turn of fate after she opened her eyes? Why are they calling her princess? Did they just reveal to her that she'd be the next Lycan King?

I had poured my heart into planning the perfect wedding—for my female client. Then I turned a corner and saw her kissing my boyfriend at the stairwell. He chuckled softly. "No wonder you're my wife. You're stunning." She let out a soft laugh. "Your little secret girlfriend still does not know you're marrying me. She actually wished me happiness—can you believe it? So… when are you planning to tell her?" He tilted her chin and said, "Didn't we agree? Once we're married, we each live our own lives. Teresa is the love of my life. I hope you'll keep your mouth shut." She gave a snort of laughter and yanked playfully on his tie. "Relax, babe. As long as you keep treating me right, I won't stir up trouble." I felt like I had plunged into an ice bath. Face pale, hands trembling, I picked up my phone and texted my mentor: [I'm ready to take the transfer to Luminous City.] The reply came not long after: [Three days from now. We'll go together.]

When the half-mile sprint test is about to begin, Quiana Sullivan, the class president, and I have applied to be exempted from it. My own mother, who's the homeroom teacher of my class, approves Quiana's application with a smile. But she then throws mine to the floor. "You're having a chest pain, you say? I can't believe you're able to come up with such lies just to avoid the half-mile sprint! I'd have known if you had a heart condition! "Quiana is weak by nature, not to mention she's on her period right now, so she can't handle the agony. What about you, hmm? You've always been perfectly healthy, yet now you're telling me that you're suffering from heart pain? "Don't go around embarrassing me just because you want to slack off! I don't want others claiming that I'm being biased toward my own child! As long as you're still alive and kicking, you must finish the half-mile course no matter what!" Left without a choice, I can only return to the field. The cold wind makes me feel even dizzier now. My heart keeps contracting uncontrollably against my will. Suddenly, it just stops pumping. The next thing I know, I collapse onto the grassy field heavily. When my consciousness is about to flicker to darkness, my mom finally walks over to me. But she merely kicks my arm with a frown on her face, and her tone remains glacial. "Stop playing dead. Get up right now." She doesn't realize that I can never open my eyes ever again. Isn't this great, Mom? No one will ever claim that you're biased toward your own child. I've used my life to prove how fair and just you are. You must be happy now, right?

On the day of our daughter's full-month celebration, Harvey McKinzie walked onto the stage holding the hand of his widowed, heavily pregnant sister-in-law. "Honey, to be honest with you—my sister-in-law's baby is mine." His parents followed behind, looking completely unapologetic. "We're the ones who made it happen. We drugged them. Our oldest son may be gone, but the family can't be without an heir. "Harvey is taking on the responsibility of carrying on both family lines—it hasn't been easy for him. From now on, you need to take good care of Lydia and the child she's carrying." The sister-in-law, now eight months pregnant, glanced at me shyly. "Jennifer, we're sister-wives now." I stood there frozen, holding my daughter, my voice trembling. "Why are you doing this to me?" Harvey frowned and let out a long sigh. "You're always saying how hard Lydia has it, right? Isn't it better if I just take care of her openly and properly? "I promise—you'll be the first wife, and she'll be the second. On paper, you're still my only legal wife." In that moment, my blood ran cold. Then, for the first time in a long while, I heard the system's alert in my head. [Host emotional fluctuation detected. Would you like to use all remaining points to exit the current world?]

My sister had struggled with depression since childhood. The doctor warned that she could not tolerate any kind of stimulation. As a result, my entire life fell silent. To avoid upsetting her, I never dared to laugh at home. I never dared to cry. When I got hurt, I did not even have the right to say it hurt. My parents would hug me with apologetic expressions and say, "You're the good one. Your sister's illness requires the whole family to work together. You're healthy. You're strong. Let her have more, okay?" One day, I accidentally knocked over a cup. The crash sounded enormous in the quiet room, and my sister's emotions shattered at once. My father struck me for the first time. He roared, "Can't you be careful? Do you have to push her until she dies before you're satisfied?" He shoved me to the floor. The back of my head slammed against the corner of the table, and blood poured out. But my whole family rushed to my screaming sister. No one even glanced at me. I lay on the cold floor as my vision blurred and my consciousness began to fade. To them, my sister's feelings were the only emergency. My small injury could wait. They did not know that bleeding inside the skull does not wait.

My grandmother only knows how to draw one thing—infants. They're ugly, but people line up to buy the paintings. I watch as she takes those women into unlit rooms. Then, their bloodcurdling screams will ring out. Oddly enough, they always thank my grandmother when they're leaving. One day, I finally find out what exactly my grandmother paints. I discover the truth when I see an infant crawl out of one of the women's bellies—it looks just like the one my grandmother has painted.

"She needs me, Alyne. I've told you thousand times. Don't be selfish!" The boy's hand reached the girl's hand in front of him. "We're both struggling, Alyne," the boy continued, trying to soften his voice. The girl nodded harshly causing the tears that welled up in her eyes to fall. "Yeah, Herrin. We're both struggling." "I struggled desperately to beat my ego to maintain our relationship. And you ..." "You struggled desperately to win over your ego to end our relationship."