Welcome To My Filthy Little World

~Lily~

Okay, listen to me. I know I sound crazy, but I swear I’ve officially lost every ounce of self-control I ever had. Like completely, tragically, erotically gone.

If there’s a special kind of werewolf hell for girls who moan their best friend’s dad’s name while fingering themselves in hotel beds, then I’m already seated in the front row. VIP. Permanent reservation. No chance of redemption. I’m going straight there, soaked and smiling.

I don’t even care anymore. I’ve judged myself so many times I’ve run out of shame to spiral in. I already did the whole “Oh my God, I’m such a dirty b***h, I’m going to burn in hell” thing—three times, actually.

Do you know when? Right after each orgasm. Because yes, I’ve been lying here for over an hour now. Legs open. Tank top rolled up. My fingers are shiny.

My voice is wrecked. My thighs are sticky. I’m panting like an unclaimed Omega in heat, and all of it—all the moaning, the trembling, the insane whimpers that sound like I’m being exorcised—has been for one man.

Connor Blackwood.

Not just any man. My best friend’s father. Her Alpha dad. Her six-foot-something, silver-eyed, veiny-handed, gravel-voiced, emotionally unavailable, broad-shouldered, grumpy-as-f**k daddy whose scent alone makes my c**t throb.

The kind of man who makes my stomach flip and my cunt ache just by existing near me. He is dangerous in ways my body doesn’t want to survive.

He is temptation wrapped in muscle and dominance. And if I could choose anyone in the entire world to take my virginity, ruin my innocence, and f**k the soul right out of my body with nothing but his knot and his hands on my hips—it would be him.

No protection. No mercy. Just full Alpha madness. I want to be split open. I want to be marked and filled and pinned and broken.

I want his voice in my ear saying “You’re mine now” while I scream into the pillow and beg him not to stop. I want to belong to someone so completely that I forget my own name and start worshipping his.

And yes, I am eighteen. I’ve said it once, but I’ll say it again because it matters. I am legal. I am grown. I keep repeating it like some unholy prayer because I still don’t feel grown when I’m soaked through my panties and thinking about the way his mouth looked around the edge of a beer bottle.

I don’t feel grown when I remember him getting out of the pool last summer, water dripping down his chest, dark hair slicked back, Alpha scent rolling off him so thick I almost passed out. I stood there frozen, thighs clenched, face red, n*****s hard, and every cell in my body screaming to be claimed.

And now here I am. Three orgasms later. Still soaking. Still desperate. Still trembling. I feel like something wild has snapped inside me and now all that’s left is hunger. I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anything, and the worst part is—I haven’t even gotten on the yacht yet.

Yes. That’s right. I am going on a luxury private cruise in less than twenty-four hours. A yacht. Eight passengers. Expensive food. Ridiculously rich people. And one dangerously horny little Omega—me—who is one strong Alpha scent away from collapsing into a full-blown, body-breaking, heat-fueled meltdown.

And guess who invited me?

Bella. My best friend. The girl who has absolutely no idea that her sweet, smiley, innocent bestie has been soaking through her sheets for two years now imagining what it would feel like to choke on her daddy’s knot.

I know I should have said no. I should have been mature and responsible and respectful. I should have said I was busy this summer. I should have said my grandma died again. I should have said I have a yacht allergy.

But instead, I said yes. I said yes so fast I nearly screamed. Then I went home and packed every single slutty little thing I own. The red panties. The lace ones. The sheer ones. The crotchless ones I bought in secret even though I’ve never even kissed a guy before.

I packed them all for him.

Because I want him to see me. I want him to look at me and forget I was ever a little girl. I want his eyes to drop.

I want him to smell the shift in my scent. I want him to freeze. I want his c**k to twitch. I want his inner Alpha to growl and snap awake. I want him to lose control.

I stand in front of the mirror now, staring at myself as I close my eyes, I see it—the dock, the burning Spanish sun, the glint of the yacht, Bella squealing and running. And then I turn around.

And there he is.

Connor Blackwood.

Wearing white linen pants. A dark shirt half unbuttoned. Sunglasses pushed up in his hair. Arms crossed. That mouth in a straight, unreadable line. That scent. That power. That him. Maybe he’ll glance at me. Maybe he’ll say my name. Maybe he’ll say “Lily.”

And I’ll smile. I’ll act like I’m not soaking wet underneath this dress. Like I haven’t been dreaming about this moment with my fingers stuffed between my legs since I was sixteen.

~~~

I was still standing in front of the mirror like a psycho, one hand on my hip, the other flailing dramatically as I practiced how I’d bend over without making it look like I was begging to get f****d.

I kept tilting my hips, arching my back, tilting my head just right like, Oops, I dropped my drink, guess I’ll just bend down in front of your c**k and pretend it’s not intentional. That kind of thing. My t**s bounced. My ass looked f*****g perfect. My n*****s were poking through my tank top like they were screaming pick me.

And listen, don’t you dare judge me. I know for a fact I’m not the only girl who’s ever done this. I know you’ve arched your back in front of your crush like you just happened to need a stretch. I know you’ve “accidentally” dropped something just to see if his eyes would follow.

So don’t even look at me sideways right now. I’m just being honest. I’m just brave enough to say out loud what your slick little cunt already knows — we’re all dirty when the right man walks in.

I was mid-squat, practicing how I’d moan a fake “oops” while pretending to pick up a lip gloss, when my phone buzzed on the bed.

Bella.

Oh. f**k.

I swiped to answer.

“Hello?” I tried to sound normal, but my voice came out breathy.

“Where the hell are you?” Bella shouted over the wind and the sound of water slapping the dock. I could hear seagulls, someone popping champagne, and a yacht horn blaring like it was laughing at me. “Lily, the captain’s literally about to untie the ropes! If you miss this cruise because you’re curling your lashes—”

“I’m on my way!” I spun in a panicked circle, like that would somehow teleport me closer. “I’m five minutes out. Like, literally.”

“That didn’t sound convincing.”

“Eight! Okay, maybe ten. But a really fast ten. Like a horny ten.”

Bella groaned, but she was laughing. “You better move your slutty little ass. This is going to be the summer that changes everything. Spain. France. Italy. Greece. Do you know how many hot guys are already on this boat?”

I tried to laugh. It came out as a dying whimper. “Oh, I’m so ready.”

She giggled. “Good. Champagne’s already flowing, nobody brought rules, and my dad’s the only adult on board. But he’s so boring he doesn’t count. He’s probably already in a corner somewhere glaring at the ocean with a whiskey in one hand and a trauma in the other.”

My whole body went still.

Her dad.

Connor.

And then she said it.

“I think Rose put you in the suite next to his. So maybe try not to moan too loud when you’re playing with yourself, yeah?”

My stomach dropped. My legs buckled. My p***y clenched so hard I gasped. Her dad’s room is next to mine?

I could actually die. Or combust. Or just melt into a puddle of slick and sinful thoughts and slide under his door like some heat-struck ghost begging to be touched.

“Lily?” Bella’s voice dragged me back. “You okay?”

“Y-yeah,” I said, breathless. “Just…processing.”

She cackled. “Don’t overthink it. Just get here. This yacht is ridiculous. It has levels. Like, actual upstairs-downstairs levels. King beds. Showers that could fit six people. Mood lighting. This whole thing feels like it was made for sex.”

I was already grabbing my bag, shoving my feet into sandals, yanking my damp panties back into place with trembling fingers. “I’m leaving right now.”

“Good,” she said. “Let’s make some sins we’ll never forget.”

She hung up.

And I just stood there, staring at myself in the mirror again, shaking from the inside out.. This was it. The beginning of everything. The summer that would destroy me in the best possible way.

Okay wait before I open this door, before I see him again, before I do the dumbest, filthiest thing I’ve ever done in my life—I need to say something.

To you.

Yeah, you. The one reading this with your thighs tight and your lip bitten so hard it’s basically bruised. Don’t even pretend you’re not already wet, because I know you are. You wouldn’t be here otherwise.

Welcome to my disaster.

No, scratch that.

Welcome to my dirty, unholy, p***y-throbbing descent into madness.

Because what’s coming? Is not cute. It’s not slow-burn. It’s not romance. It’s something you haven’t read before.

You better have your toy charged. The real one. The one that doesn’t stop until you’re crying and breathless. Because this story?

It’s not for the soft-hearted. It’s for the ones who love filth.

So be a good little slut.

Flip the page.

And don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Moan a name on our Claiming night, and my Lycan King throws me off the bed like I'm nothing.I could barely stand. My wolf was whimpering inside me, aching from his coldness. I dragged myself to his den every day, begging to see him. His guards turned me away each time.

He didn't send me back to the Vale Pack. Didn't take my title. He just stopped looking at me. Wouldn't even let my scent touch his.

I walked around wearing the crown of a Luna, but every wolf in the kingdom knew I was a fake. An imposter. A hostage Omega he'd plucked from a border pack and dressed up like a queen.

Then, just when I thought my wolf would die from the loneliness, he threw me a birthday feast. All the wolves in the kingdom came. The hall was packed with wolves howling and drinking.

And for one stupid, desperate moment, I thought maybe—maybe he was calling me back.

But he sat through the feast like a stone. Didn't speak to me. Didn't meet my eyes. Didn't even acknowledge my scent. Then he got up and disappeared into the night.

I searched every corner of the royal grounds for him. Every trail, every den, every shadow. Nothing.

When I finally pushed open the door to my room, I caught their scents .

Raven's familiar pine and honey smell—the she-wolf who'd been my sister since we were pups—laced with something else. Something intimate. Then his. Damian's scent hit me next—all smoked leather and amber and the sharp bite of a Lycan on the hunt. All over my bed. All over her.

I stood in the doorway, frozen, as severe abdominal pain struck me and the sounds hit me. Soft moans. Breathless whispers. The creak of my mattress.

I didn't leave. I just stood there and listened. Listened to him claim another she-wolf where I used to sleep. I waited until their breathing slowed, until the last whisper faded.

Then Raven's nose twitched. Her head turned toward the door. Our eyes met in the dark.

Raven gasped. She scrambled off the bed, grabbing for her clothe，sher dark hair spilling over her bare shoulders. Her hands were shaking.

“Selene… it's not what you think!”

She ran to me and grabbed my wrists. Her palms were hot. And her skin still carried his scent—that deep, smoky smell of the Lycan King. It made my wolf whimper inside me.

"I rode back from the border today," she said, her voice cracking. "I brought you gifts from the northern packs. I wanted to surprise you for your birthday. But I couldn't find you anywhere. They said you were at the hall."

Her eyes were red. She was crying, stumbling over her words.

"I was about to leave when he showed up. He was drunk. He grabbed me and wouldn't let go. And then…"

She couldn't finish.

But I knew better.

Damian didn't get drunk. Damian didn't get drunk. He'd survived too much as a king to ever let his guard down.

Tonight he'd had two glasses of wine.

He wasn't drunk. He wanted this.

"Enough, Raven. Stop explaining."

Damian sat up slowly. He pulled on his shirt but didn't bother to tie it. His chest was still bare, marked with old battle scars.

He walked over and pulled her behind him, like I was the threat.

"I forced her," he said. "And since you saw it, Selene, I'm done pretending."

Pretending what?

I waited. My heart was already ripping in half.

"When I was young, the only she-wolf I ever wanted was Raven."

His voice was calm. Each word cut me open.

"Before she left for the border war, she begged me to protect you. Said you wouldn't survive in this pack without me. That your wolf was too weak, too broken. So I took you in. I made you my Luna. Not because I loved you. Because she asked me to."

His lips kept moving, and more words came out.

"Three years. Every kiss, every promise, every night I spent in your bed—it was all for her. Now she's back, and I can't keep lying to myself. Blame me. Not her."

I thought he'd lifted me up—a hostage Omega from the Vale Pack, a nobody, and made me his Luna because he'd fallen for me. Because the Moon Goddess had chosen me for him.

Three years. Three years of waking up next to him, and I never saw the cracks.

Turns out my best friend just asked him to take care of me.

Raven was sobbing into her hands. Damian wrapped his arms around her, shielding her. Like I was the one who had done something wrong.

My chest felt like it was caving in.

Who was I supposed to hate?

Damian? He was cruel. But he was cruel because he loved someone else.

Raven? She was just trying to keep me alive in this place. She didn't know any better. She thought she was helping.

I couldn't hate either of them.

I hated myself. For being so stupid. For getting in the way of their perfect love story.

"I… understand," I whispered.

"Good. The Luna's quarters are closest to my den. Raven should have it. Your new quarters aren't ready yet. Take the guest room tonight. Move tomorrow."

"Yes."

I said it quietly. I held myself together until the door closed behind me.

Then I fell apart. The tears came, and I couldn't stop them.

"That was too cruel!" I heard Raven's muffled cry from inside. "If her parents, Alpha Aldric and Luna Isolde—ever find out how you've treated her…"

Damian's cold laugh cut through the wood.

"She's nothing. Her pack is a border village with no warriors. They sent her here to survive. If I killed her tonight, they'd just send another daughter. What could they do?"

A sharp pain ripped through my wolf. I swallowed the whimper.

The next morning, Damian issued an Alpha decree to the whole Darkmoon Pack.

Raven was now his Chosen one. The highest rank below a True Luna.

And I became nothing. Less than nothing.

chapter2

The servants in this kingdom have the sharpest tongues. The moment I fell from favor, they turned on me like a pack of starving coyotes.

"Look at her now. She's lower than a stray dog."

""Did you see the Lycan King? He gave Raven the moonstone. Every treasure in the pack lands at her feet.And Selene? They say she doesn't even have enough firewood to keep warm."

"That worthless Omega from the Vale Pack. She actually thought she deserved to warm the King's bed for three years? Please. From now on, she gets the scraps， whatever we feel like throwing at her. Let's see how long that weak little wolf lasts before she crawls back to her border pack."

They're right. I don't even have the right to be angry anymore.

Then I hear it—a crack of bone, followed by screams.

I push open the door. Raven is standing there, her fist still raised. The servants who were just talking are on their knees, bleeding from their mouths, begging. One of them has his arm bent the wrong way.

Her eyes are blazing. She's furious.

"Your Luna moved out of her quarters, but she's still the King's chosen," she snarls. "And you worthless mutts dare to insult her? Drag them to the dungeon. Break their legs. Now."

Same old Raven. Always fighting my battles.

"Selene, I'm so sorry." She turns to me, her face softening. "I didn't know they were treating you like this. I won't let anyone hurt you. I promise."

That afternoon, the servants are dead. Damian ordered them beaten to death in the pack dungeon.

He didn't kill them for me. He killed them for her. To show her that anyone who upsets her dies.

Raven is stubborn. She feels guilty, so she's determined to get me back in Damian's favor. She doesn't mind sharing him. She actually thinks we can be like sisters again, like when we were pups.

She drags me everywhere with them.

When Damian takes her to the training grounds, she insists I come along.

When they go to the lake, she practically pulls me into the boat.

But every time, it's like a knife in my chest.

A wildcat springs from the trees. Damian doesn't think—he just throws himself over Raven, wrapping her so tight in his cloak she can barely breathe.

I get knocked to the ground. My palms bleed on the broken stones.

The boat rocks on the water. His hand shoots out—and grabs Raven's wrist. Not mine.

I just stand there like a ghost, watching them stare into each other's eyes after every near miss. Watching them love each other like it's the most natural thing in the world.

And the more I watch, the more I remember.

When I was locked in that dark cell, burning with fever, I thought I was going to die. Damian kicked the door open. He carried me out in his arms.

He stayed by my bed for three days straight, barely sleeping, feeding me medicine with his own hands and wiping the sweat off my face.

The day he became Lycan King, he chose me. He told everyone I was his Luna. Back then, I thought it was love. Now I know it was just part of the act.

He looked at me and said, "Selene, from now on, I'm your home."

I thought I was special.

Now I know. He was just doing his job. Raven's job.

Every single time, he looks right through me like I'm not even there, then reaches for her instead. He always chooses her.

And finally, I understand. He never loved me. Not once.

A thousand nights in his bed. A thousand mornings waking up next to him. I gave him everything. And it never made him feel even a flicker of what he feels for her.

The despair is eating me alive.

Raven is at the front of the boat, pointing at something in the water. Damian is smiling at her like she's the moon and the stars.

I'm standing behind them. The world starts spinning.

My body can't take any more.

I fall into the cold water.

As I sink, I hear him scream my name.

Just let me die. Maybe then I can go home.

chapter3

But I didn't die.

I woke up to the familiar ceiling of my room. The same cracks in the wood, the same stale air.

Raven was the only one by my bed again. She'd been crying，her eyes were still swollen. The moment she saw me wake up, she reached for a bowl of medicine.

“You're awake,” she breathed. “The healer said your wolf is exhausted, and your heart is broken. That's why you passed out and fell into the lake.”

She blew on the spoon carefully, like I was a pup.

“Drink this. I watched the pack kitchen brew it for two hours.”

I'd heard that line so many times before.

Back when I first came to the kingdom,I was the daughter of the Vale Pack's alpha and Luna, spoiled and loud and bright, a she-wolf who laughed too much and never backed down from a fight.

When the servants here mocked me or tried to push me around, I gave it right back. I even threw punches.

Raven's father was a Beta, one of the pack's top generals. She'd been training to fight with her bare hands since she could walk.She hated bullies, and she stepped in every time, chasing off those cowards with nothing but her bare hands and her sharp tongue.

We used to share stolen sweets in the corner of the kingdom and swear we'd be sisters forever by the moon lake.

But then I grew up. And I finally understood what it meant to be a hostage.

I could never go home. My life and my parents' lives, depended on the Lycan King's mood.

So I stopped fighting. I swallowed my anger. I made myself small. And slowly, all that swallowed poison ate away at my body until I was always sick.

Raven, though. She never dimmed. She went north with her father, learning to fight in her wolf form across the open plains.

I never blamed her for giving Damian to me. She didn't understand how cruel this pack could be. She thought if she left me with the most powerful wolf in the entire werewolf world, I'd be safe. She was trying to help.

But that help turned into a blade in my chest.

In this three-way story, I was the one who didn't belong.

And I couldn't hate anyone for it.

I couldn't hate Damian for lying, because I was the one who fell for it.

I couldn't hate Raven for giving him to me, because she was never anything but honest.

“I'm fine,” I said. “Just tired.”

I turned my back to her and pretended to sleep. The pillow got wet under my cheek.

After that day, I started avoiding them both. When Raven came to see me, I said I was sick. When Damian sent gifts, I stacked them in the corner and never touched them.

I dragged a cushion to the Moon Goddess shrine and spent my days there on my knees, tracing runes onto old stones and begging the Goddess to cut the feelings out of my chest and keep my birth pack safe.

That was where I kept running into Elder Elara.

The first time I met her, she was still the Luna of the old King. She hated me from the start. I thought it was because I was a hostage from a weak border pack.

But lately, her looks had changed. Complicated. Almost sad.

One day, I was kneeling in the shrine, carving the same prayer over and over. My hands were shaking from hunger and exhaustion. I hadn't eaten in days.

Elder Elara walked up to me. For the first time ever, she didn't scold me for making a mess of the shrine. She just stood there and spoke.

" Stella."

She used my real name. The one from my birth pack.

"You can't keep doing this to yourself. You're wasting away."

She paused, then added, "Love too deep, and your spirit will weep. Hold too tight, and you'll lose the fight. Some things were never meant to be yours."

I looked up, confused. Was she warning me not to fight Raven for Damian? But I'd already backed down to nothing.

I still didn't understand why she'd changed toward me. Just like I never understood why she hated me in the first place.

The shrine smelled of old incense and cold stone. I tried to stand and bow to her, but the world tipped sideways.

“Elder—”

For the first time, I saw fear in her eyes. She caught me before I hit the ground and pulled me into her arms.

It was warm. Almost like being held by my own mother.

chapter4

“You're two months pregnant,” Elder Elara says when I woke up, her voice flat.

My hand goes to my stomach.

There's a pup inside me?

Damian's pup.

I should be happy.

But the happiness doesn't even get a chance. Panic hits first.

This pup picked the worst possible time to show up.

What would it even be? A bargaining chip to win him back? A thorn in the middle of his perfect love story with Raven?

If Damian finds out, would he be excited? Or would he just see it as a problem?

I'm not willing to find out.

“Elder Elara,” I whisper. “Please. Don't tell anyone. Keep this secret.”

She stops turning the runestones over in her fingers. Her old eyes lock on mine. A long pause. Then she sighs.

“I raised pup of my own too.”

Another pause.

“Fine. Stay here in my quarters. I'll take care of you.”

However, I never thought I'd run into Raven here.

I'm walking to give Elder Elara some carved runes when I hear that laugh. That familiar laugh.

“Here, try one,” Raven says. “I made 'em. Selene used to love these. She acts like she's all claws and fangs, but underneath she's just soft fur. She just learned to growl first and never show her belly. And now she's got no one. So… maybe go easy on her, yeah?”

Elder Elara chuckles. “You're the King's favourate now. Instead of hanging around him, you're here begging me to be nice to her?”

I freeze in the doorway. The runes in my hands feel like they're bending.

So that's why the Elder started being nice to me. It wasn't a change of heart. It was Raven. Working behind my back. Again.

Why does she have to be this good to me? So good that I can't even feel jealous.

The Elder likes her. Damian loves her. Someday she'll be the real queen of this kingdom.

I never wanted to compete with her.

But this，being saved by her kindness without asking for it，it twists something in my chest. It hurts.

“Selene? Why are you just standing there?”

Raven sees me. She runs over and grabs my hand.

“You look terrible. Stop carving runes. The healer said you need to move around. Come on, I'll show you the back rooms of the Elder's lodge. There's all kinds of old stuff back there.”

Elder Elara waves us off with a smile.

Raven knows this place better than I do. She pulls me through the old stone hallways, deeper into the lodge, until we reach a small room at the very end.

She goes straight to a wooden chest in the corner and opens it.

“These are all Damian's things from when he was little,” she says. “The Elder kept everything.”

She digs through the chest, pulling stuff out like a kid showing off treasures.

“Look, he made this carving when he was seven. It's so ugly. And this one…”

I listen in silence. Most of Damian's past, I wasn't part of. His childhood seems to belong only to Raven.

I glance into the chest without really caring—and then I stop.

A rolled-up painting, half open.

It shows a pup running across an open field, laughing. His eyes are warm, his face soft. He looks exactly like the pup who sneaked past the border guards to bring me firewood and found his way into my room at night just to make me smile.

The name signed at the bottom: Dae.

Dae. That's the nickname Damian told me to call him when we were younger.

“He used to be so happy before he was declared king.,” I hear myself say.“What happened to him? Why did he get so merciless?”

Raven leans over to look at the painting. Her smile disappears. She shakes her head.

“Selene, that's not Damian.”

I blink. “What?”

“That's his younger brother. Darius. He died years ago.”

I stare at her. “But the name. Dae. That's Damian's nickname, isn't it?”

Raven frowns like I just said something crazy. “No. Damian's nickname is Dee. It's always been Dee. Are you okay?”

My blood runs cold.

Dee.

Not Dae.

Suddenly, I remember that night.

Damian was wild in bed, out of control. I was half-conscious, moaning his name. And in a daze, I whispered, “Dae.”

He went completely still. His eyes filled with something I couldn't read—fear? Rage?

Then he shoved me off the bed. Hard. I hit the floor, and he walked out without looking back.

After that, he started sleeping somewhere else. And when Raven came back to the kingdom, he cut me off completely.

I thought it was just his temper.

Now I know. He wasn't angry that I said the wrong name.

He was terrified that I'd finally figured out the truth.

“How did his brother die?” I grab Raven's sleeve. My hands are shaking.

“You're hurting me,” she says, pulling back. But she answers. “It was during the autumn pack run, years ago. He went over the cliffs. They never found his body.”

The pack run . The same year Damian was named the next Lycan King.

A terrible thought sinks into my chest, and I shove past Raven, sprinting out of the room.

“Luna Selene, you can’t go in there. The King is in a meeting.”