How Does Camellia'S Power Evolve In 'The Belles'?

For thousands of years, the tale of the Lycan beast who lurked the forbidden forest had been told. Every five hundred years, six females were allegedly sacrificed from the wolf village to the beast and it was rumoured that their bodies were left to rot at the entrance of the forest for all to see. Many times, this tale was retold to scare the young wolves from venturing into the forest and keep them in check, because no one wanted to be a scapegoat in the hands of the unforgiving and murderous beast. Nola Reynolds has always been a headstrong fiery pure blood who has always believed there was no Lycan beast and all the tales about him were just made up myths and fairy tales, aimed at scaring the younger ones. Little does she know that one night was all it was going to take to change her life forever. Things take an unsettling turn for Nola when she, alongside five other girls, are chosen on the night of the full moon. She is faced with the most shocking revelation of her life standing before her, in flesh and blood— The Lycan Beast. Is it her fate to run away and free herself from the hands of the predator, or does she have to give in to her sweet, twisted story of beauty and the beast?

Post - Apocalyptic Horror | Action | Yuri Harem | 18+ | Rated R | Mature Content | Slow Pace It started with a kiss I don’t remember giving. A rooftop. A moan. Someone’s fingers buried in my hair like they belonged there. A mouth on my throat that said I tasted like something they lost in another life. I wasn’t dreaming. The city was already cracking beneath me. Power grids flickering like dying stars. Tech failing. Screens static. The sky bruising in strange new colors. Everyone said it was coincidence. Collapse. Noise. But I knew better. The moment I felt her breath on my skin — even if I couldn’t see her — I knew the end had already arrived. And I had something to do with it. Ten butterflies followed me after that. Not literal ones. Not always. They shimmered in my periphery. Each the wrong color. Each too vivid. Each drawn to me like heat to blood. They touched me in dreams. They watched me when I undressed. They whispered without words. I could taste their want. Some called me cursed. Broken. Unstable. But the truth is simpler. I’m blooming again — and they all feel it. They don’t love me. They remember me. They remember what I used to be — what I still am, underneath the silence. One of them burned me with just a kiss. One broke my spine with kindness. One slid her hand under my shirt like it was always hers. One cries when she touches me. One never speaks, but her eyes dig. One wants to keep me. One wants to ruin me. And one just wants to finish what we started. They think I’m choosing. I’m not. My body already did. And now the bloom inside me is turning darker.

How do you explain when you don't have a choice in life and all you have is to follow your destiny to the one you love? After being locked up for centuries, you're eventually freed only to follow a destiny and then you're locked up again. This was what happened to Princess Bellamy. The first daughter and second child of the Queen. After being locked up for several years, she is eventually released. But what does the future hold for the young princess? Will she be able to achieve all she's ever wished for? Will she be able to fall in love ? Or will she follow her destiny? Will she carry the burden of her people? Will she save the ones who love her and those who don't from the evil ahead? What happens when the young princess eventually falls in love but discovers that love isn't always a bed of roses? What happens when she has to choose between love and power? Will she choose the one she loves or the one who would give her more power? You'll find out all about this young princess's trauma, tragedy and happiness in this book.

First Book of Ring Series. "Each flower is unique in its way. The eye of a gardener needs to appreciate its pleasantness and uniqueness. " In a nation called The Ring, where magic, power, vampires, werewolves, and any other magical creatures existed, was divided into four places- Seacrest, Cansona

A wolf in hunter's clothing. Belle is a rare and odd beauty among her pack. Unlike the lycans in her pack who can combine themselves with their wolves when they shift, she can only become a full wolf or a full human. She is different, but that does not mean that she is weak. With her being the newly appointed beta of the pack, the alpha assigned her a mission to watch over a human child. Belle did not like the idea of using a kid for their plans to take down the humans, so she helped the girl escape. Because of saving the child she was adopted by the humans, allowing her to enroll to their academy and learn their secrets to compensate to her pack for letting the child escape. But the more she learns, the more she realizes she is siding with the wrong people. Mysteries emerge as she learns that she is not the only lycan who can shift between human and wolf, or otherwise known as werewolves. Whenever she tries to learn about these creatures like her, she is always hampered by Ajax Finnegan, another hunter in training at the academy who is just as strong as she is. To Ajax, he feels like Belle is hiding something. He can sense that she's too different - too special, to be just an ordinary human. She's a beauty with the strength of a beast. Will Belle continue to side with the lycans, or will she continue her search for answers about these so called werewolves? Can Ajax figure out the beauty's secret?

Crimson Bloomed: Ascend Post - Apocalyptic Horror | Action | Yuri Harem | Coming - of - Age | Rated R | Mature Content | Slow Burn The city looked like it had been devoured — chewed up by fire, time, and whatever came after — then spit back out in jagged pieces. Dead drones dangled from power lines like rusted ornaments. Neon signs flickered above fractured pavement, their broken scripts glitching into gibberish. Down the block, a half - melted smartcar burned slow, casting warped shadows across the skeletal remains of a coffee bar. Behind a crumpled tram car, someone crouched low, breath tight in her lungs. The shrieking hadn’t stopped. It came again — sharp, bone-deep, the kind of sound that latched onto your spine and refused to let go. She checked the signal jammer at her hip. Still blinking. Still active. Not for long. They were tracking her. She moved fast — boots silent over broken glass, slipping through the breach in an old laundromat’s wall. Her body moved from muscle memory now: slide through, duck left, over the washer, don’t look at the corpse slumped by the dryer. Out the back. Up the fire escape. On the rooftop, she halted. Not alone. Someone was already there — silhouetted against the bleeding sunset. Combat jacket. Short - cropped hair. Pulse rifle slung casually over one shoulder like it weighed nothing. Like this was just another rooftop, just another war. “Don’t move,” the voice snapped. She lifted her hands slowly. “I’m clean.” “Everyone says that.” “Scan me.” beat. Then the girl stepped forward, rifle still raised but gaze locked in. Dark eyes, sharp, searching — not just for weapons, but tells. Fear. Lies. She lowered the rifle half an inch. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” That wasn’t the line she expected.