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Announced as Vice President
Last Updated:
2023-06-03 00:29:22
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The Wealthy Divorcee His Story
The jungle had swallowed their screams. The Bone King’s blade still seemed to glint behind Jenna’s eyes as David dragged them through the storm-soaked undergrowth. And as the drums faded behind them and the night pressed close, the truth settled into Jenna’s bones with icy finality—this was not freedom. This was only survival.Rain still dripped from the canopy in slow, heavy beads as David led Jenna and Steeve deeper into the jungle. The storm had weakened, reduced to a distant murmur of rolling thunder, but the fear it had carved into their bones remained sharp and alive.Jenna stumbled over a root, catching herself against a moss‑slick tree. Her muscles screamed, her wrists still raw from hours of being bound.Steeve wheezed behind her, every breat
The Wealthy Divorcee Escape in the Chaos
The spear flew.Lightning illuminated its arc—white, sharp, inevitable.Jenna didn’t have time to scream.David tackled her sideways. The spear tore through the space where her throat had been just a heartbeat earlier, burying itself deep into a tree trunk with a brutal thunk.Jenna hit the ground hard, breath knocked from her lungs. Mud splashed around them, the taste of soil hitting her tongue. Steeve stumbled beside her, crashing to his knees.Behind them, the Bone King roared—angry, wounded pride echoing like thunder.
The Wealthy Divorcee David Branson Appears
The night split open with a scream.Not from a survivor. Not from a tribesman.But from the darkness itself.The storm had swallowed half the sky, leaving the jungle drenched and trembling. Jenna hung from the ropes binding her to the wooden post, rainwater soaking through her hair and dripping into her eyes. Every breath hurt. Every heartbeat felt like it might be her last.The tribe danced in a widening frenzy, chanting toward the sky as if begging their gods to witness the slaughter.**"Vorah ka'ren! Vorah ka'ren!" (Blood of dawn! Blood of dawn!)Steeve was barely conscious beside her, shivering violently.
The Wealthy Divorcee Night of Dread
The ropes bit into Jenna’s wrists as the warriors dragged her across the dirt, the ritual ash still burning on her skin. The storm overhead thickened, clouds rumbling like distant war drums. She barely kept her footing as they tied her to one of the wooden posts lining the sacrificial grounds—thick beams made of weathered trunks, stained with old, dark streaks she didn’t want to identify.Steeve was bound to the post on her right, trembling uncontrollably. Lucia and the two remaining male survivors were tied to the others, forming a crooked semicircle facing the massive bonfire at the center of the village. The flames raged high, spitting sparks that drifted like fireflies.The tribe bustled around them, preparing for the night’s ritual. Warriors sharpened obsidian blades against stones. Torches were planted in a wide ring, crea
The Wealthy Divorcee Jenna’s Fight
The creature—no, the man—that stepped into the torchlight looked as though he had been carved out of night itself. Taller than any warrior in the village, his shoulders were broad enough to eclipse the fires behind him, casting the survivors’ cage in deep shadow.Bones crowned his head—long, curved horns wrapped in sinew and painted black. His chest was streaked with white ash symbols, each one pulsing in the firelight like the marks of some ancient rite. He carried a spear twice Jenna’s height, its tip shaped from obsidian and something disturbingly pale.The villagers bowed.“Vor’kai… (Bone King)
The Wealthy Divorcee Ritual Preparation
Chapter 143 – Ritual PreparationThe moment the chieftain’s bone staff singled Jenna out, the atmosphere in the village shifted—like the jungle itself leaned closer to listen. The chanting died down into excited whispers, then rose again in feverish waves. Warriors pounded their chests. Women began preparing fires, dragging out carved stone bowls, ropes, and baskets woven from sinew.The ritual was beginning.Jenna forced her back straight, though pain pulsed through her ribs with every breath. Her wrists throbbed where the restraints had rubbed skin raw. But she refused to shrink back from the bars.Fear would not keep her alive.Her mind would.
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