What Happens At The End Of Cress Watercress?

I’m Tessa Dean, the true heiress of the wealthiest family in United States! This time around, I’m gonna make both of you pieces of shit pay the price! On my wedding anniversary, I walked into my home carrying groceries and hope. Minutes later, a photograph destroyed my marriage. “You’ll seduce my brother whenever I’m away on business, right?” Curtis spat, his fingers tightening around my throat. “You’re such a whore!” I was pregnant. I was trembling. And I was innocent. But in the Deveraux family, truth means nothing—status means everything. Lauren, the woman who was meant to marry my husband, stepped forward with that calm, polished smile. “I’ll give you one day to divorce Curtis and leave Deveraux Manor.” Before I could defend myself, I was pushed. I hit the table. Blood spread across the tiles. At the hospital, I begged, “Please save my child.” My baby died. At the cemetery, Curtis looked at me with hatred in his eyes. “Who’s the father of this bastard?” When he poured my son’s ashes over my kneeling body, something inside me broke. But not completely. I’ll return and make them pieces of shit crawl on their knees and beg for mercy!

For five years, the entire vampire world knew that Caelan Vale only drank my blood. Not because I was special. Simply because he chose me, and everyone assumed that made me the Vampire Prince’s only blood source. His only exception. Until tonight. The man who never allowed anyone to touch him lowered his head and drank from another woman’s hand. Isolde Voss. Caelan’s real fiancée. “Claire, you didn’t actually think a human could become a Prince's consort, did you?” I stood there without moving. Humans could only ever remain human. I thought I was the exception. In the end, I never even qualified to be one. I placed the blood bond release papers in front of him and told him they were travel documents. Caelan didn’t even lower his eyes. The black fountain pen slid across the page as he signed his name with careless ease, just like everything he had done to me over the past five years. He had no idea that what he was personally letting go of was not just me. Beneath my cloak, I was already carrying his only half-blood heir. Later, everyone searched for the runaway human. But by then, I had already erased my scent. This time, even the high and mighty Vampire Prince would not find me so easily. Once, I was the one begging for his love. Now, it was his turn.

Leyanne Cruden is a very old yet powerful witch in present day who is dissatisfied with the world as we know it. An immortal who stopped ageing in her late twenties. She has lived through so much and lost so many that it has jaded her personality and she no longer knows if she is good or bad. A vision leads her on a purpose to find an awakening hunter who threatens the existence of all supernatural beings. Like her he's young, immortal and everything that can destroy her. His creation was purely for the purpose of wiping the earth free of supernaturals. To prevent this tragedy she must assemble a coven of mixed creatures and figure out how to avert the destruction of magic before it's too late. They do say that sometimes the one thing which is the worst for you is the one thing you want the most - Dante Torres, a hunter with the ability to end her life. She will need to let people in if she has a hope of succeeding, as even a witch as powerful as her can not do it alone. With a collection of supernatural characters, love and heartbreak.

The wolfsbane had reached my bones, and I decided to stop treatment. Once, Ethan Anderson, the pack's Alpha, was the only light in my life. He promised we would travel the continent together, chasing the northern lights across frozen plains and exploring ancient ruins. But while I lay dying from wolfsbane poisoning, he took Murphy Blake, my best friend and the person I trusted most, to every place I had dreamed of seeing. My dreams became the story of how they fell in love. I was ready to let go. I wanted only to see the final place on my list. Then the antidote shattered, my ticket was soaked in blood, and Ethan abandoned me alone in the frozen wilderness. My life entered its final countdown. And there, at the edge of death, I discovered a secret that would change the fate of every werewolf. Ten years later, when the wolfsbane curse that had plagued werewolves for a thousand years was finally broken and everyone called me their savior, Ethan finally understood: He hadn't merely lost a mate who loved him. He had lost the one person who once would have spent her last breath waiting for him to turn back. But by then, I no longer needed his love.

I have once spent three whole years winning over the untouchable Keith Reed. I have also paid the price by sacrificing my whole career just so I can become the envied Mrs. Reed of my own will. But on our fifth wedding anniversary, I have decided to file for divorce. My best friend, Hailey Walker, is my lawyer. She repeatedly asks me, "Are you sure? You turned down an offer from a world-renowned fashion magazine just to get married to him, but now, you're telling me you want to file for divorce?" Suppressing the bitterness in my heart, I say, "Please help me draft a divorce agreement. The sooner it's done, the better." She sounds bewildered. "But why?" Looking at the extravagant bouquet of black datura on the dining table, I give my final answer. "It all began with a bouquet."

The day high school seniors across Cedarhaven received their college decisions, my own graduation ceremony had just ended. Adrian Hawthorne came to meet me outside the campus with Celeste Monroe, his newly divorced former sister-in-law. He had barely offered me the sunflowers in his hand when Celeste brushed them aside with a laugh. "Sunflowers? You could try harder if you're courting a young woman." Adrian smiled and handed the bouquet to her. "Then you choose. Clara will like whatever you pick." I stood beside them without finding a place in the conversation. Celeste patted his shoulder. "Your tie is crooked. There are too many people here for you to embarrass me." Adrian lowered his head and let her straighten it. After the graduation photographs, he drew Celeste close and told me, "You're good with a camera. Take a few more pictures of us." For three years, every movie meant for two came with a third ticket, and every anniversary dinner had been chosen around another woman's restrictions. I had protested before, but whenever the argument ended, I was always the one Adrian set aside. Then Celeste accidentally left her phone in my purse, and I saw the photograph on her lock screen. Across the image were the words: July 2 - finally free. The same date was engraved beneath Adrian's watch. He called impatiently, "Clara, hurry. Celeste can't wait all day." I stared at the screen for several seconds and deleted the photograph. Everyone online was discussing how to choose the right college, and I finally understood something too. When the first choice is wrong, you withdraw before it is too late. There was no reason to keep a photograph of Adrian and me either.