There was only darkness. Rozelyn chose to shut her eyes than bear to look at the black-clothed people’s dismayed faces. This was worse than dying. Rozelyn reprimanded herself for failing the expectations of her stepmom and the only man her heart chose to beat for. Open your eyes, Rozelyn. A masculine voice beseeched her. She was debating if her mind was just making up things or she had gone into absolute madness. Open your eyes and witness your powers’ miracles. It was the voice of Cyrill Clarke. Rozelyn’s heart beats faster and heavier. She cannot bear to be ashamed again—not for the second time around. I know I’ve been a bitch all my life…but please don’t let me be the reason for this family’s downfall. I’ve been gradually transitioning to a much more independent woman. I know I’ve been self-centered because I’m always afraid to be shamed. I’m self-centered because I want people

The sun’s blinding rays are the only thing that awoke Rozelyn.She’s quite upset because neither Romaine nor Cyrill have woken her up in this English-style manor.She grasped the hems of the bloody red curtains and swiftly split it open while still in her lavender silk nightgown.Rozelyn peered outside as her chamber was facing the rear part of this wide and a hundred-hectare private state.‘The coven and the pack are indeed super wealthy, considering the minimum price tag of this place is no less than a million euros.’She murmured softly. So soft that perhaps even the robin by the oak tree in front of her window cannot even hear what she mumbled.She was

Romaine was at the edge of his blade. Dorrien’s ten-inch flesh blade has been repetitively stabbing her on the inside. But it was not pain that was flooding her. It was pleasure—intense pleasure. This has been the primary reason why she always loves every year’s Housewarming Ceremony. Whether there is a new addition to be welcomed or not, the coven and the pack have strictly been observing the sacred ceremony for two reasons: for camaraderie and fo

The room was dark; only the clamouring of chains reverberated in walls of the abandoned warehouse. Hemera couldn’t believe it. Someone in Shamrock has the deadly Black Peruvian Rose. Avril punched the man tied in the chair once more. Blood gushed out from the man’s nose like water flowing down the river. The man, who’s drenched in his own blood and tears, begged soundly even when his mouth was tied shut with a calico. “Finish him,” Hemera commanded Vesta. In a heartbeat, the man’s brown skin turned utterly pale. Blood was now dripping from Vesta’s fangs. She savoured it jovially as if a kid drinking strawberry juice. She gave a handful of blood-filled glass to the grand vampire. Candice Churchill, who refused the share of the man’s remnants due to her just devouring a fawn an hour ago, glared at Hemera unyieldin

Ludwig was still frozen in his seat. The Blood Mistress has told him to find the Amalgam—an entity who is a half vampire and a half werewolf. He is no fucking Amalgam or werewolf detector. But, the bitch has threatened his life and his family if he’s not going to comply. Dusk already beckons him to go home, to where his adoptive daughter Vivien is having a bed rest. Ludwig has no choice but to follow the order or else he’ll be the one to be served in the Blood Mistress’ table as an order.