Where Did The Phrase 'Save Me An Orange' Originate?

Margot Keys was one of many she-wolves who were publicly claimed by their mate. For years, she was mated to a man who thought that women should do as they were told and their only value was to create an heir. In her first mate bond, she suffered horrible abuse, unable to escape the horrors of her mate. However, she refused to give him a child. She never wanted any child of hers to be raised by a man who didn’t value her as a mate, a Luna, or a woman. Ezra Hart is an Alpha who publicly claimed his first mate, as was expected for all ranked members. His mate, unable to live with the embarrassment of the public claim, killed herself and their unborn child, leaving Ezra alone and destitute. When Margot recognizes Ezra as her second chance mate, she is ready to reject him, unwilling to subject herself to another mate bond. But Ezra lost one mate and he isn’t willing to lose another. Thanks to his previous brother-in-law, Hunter, Ezra has seen that the public claimings are detrimental to all she-wolves. Now, the Moon Goddess has given him a second chance to make things right and be the kind of mate that he’s always wanted to be. However, when Margot killed her previous mate, willing to give her life in the process, Ezra does the only thing he can to save her. He marks her without her consent. When she wakes, Margot is furious but also surprised to find that Ezra isn’t forcing her to immediately accept him. Can Ezra convince Margot that he is different than her first mate? Can Margot let go of her past and find true love again?

While I was traveling overseas with my family, a sudden flood hit. My fiancé slung my sister Joan over his back because her legs were weak, and ran for safety. My parents didn't have time for me, but they still remembered to grab the parrot they had just bought for Joan. All of them flew home overnight and even posted in the family group chat about how lucky everyone was to survive. But… They forgot something. I was still trapped in the flood, alone and helpless. When I woke up, I called my mentor without hesitation. "Dr. Jackson, I've decided to go with you and join Doctors Without Borders. I'm never coming back."

At the year-end company meeting, I was announcing the bonuses when a new employee suddenly raised her hand. "Over at the other company, they handed out two boxes of imported cherries at their annual party," she said, shaking her phone. "And we only get performance bonuses?" The video, maliciously edited, went viral online and hit the trending list the very next day. I had the finance department cancel all the year-end bonus transfers. "If cherries are what really count as a gesture of goodwill," I said, "then this year's year-end benefit will be cherries—fifty boxes per person." When they saw the mountain of cherries piling up before them, the employees who had once joined in mocking me panicked instantly. One by one, they cried and apologized, begging me to reconsider.

Father is a seven-tailed white fox, and Mother is a five-tailed flame fox. By all logic, with those two rolling the genetic dice, the worst child they could get should be a six-tailed fox. But Mother has given birth nine times, and each baby is a single-tailed earth fox. The two of them think their cultivation simply isn't strong enough, so they train even harder. The truth is, every child Mother has given birth to is a nine-tailed fox. It's just that Father's subordinate, Oscar Brown, switches them at birth and strangles them to death. I'm the unlucky idiot who's died nine times. By the tenth time, I cry and scream that I'm done. The Heavenly Way is so sick of me kicking up a fuss that they say they'll help me solve the problem. I expect them to just strike Oscar and those fox cubs with divine lightning. Instead, they grant Father the ability to perfectly comprehend baby language. When I open my eyes again, Mother is crying to Father while holding a scrawny, dark-furred earth fox. "Darling, it's all my fault. Our child only has one tail again." Meanwhile, Oscar has hidden me in his sleeve. He's about to take me away to be disposed of. In my panic, I shout in my mind, [Father, save me! Your subordinate switched me! I'm in his sleeve!] Father, who is gently comforting Mother, freezes. He looks toward Oscar, who looks shifty, and says, "Stop right there. What's that in your sleeve?"

I have a habit. Whenever I eat, watch a movie, or ride the bus, I will always save an empty seat next to me. I believe that Cindy Newman will one day show up in my city and surprise me. But we've been in a long-distance relationship for three years, and not once has she ever visited me. In the end, I have no choice but to handle all the wedding preparations on my own. I try on countless suits to find the one. I look everywhere for the perfect venue. The exhaustion ultimately catches up to me. With trembling fingers, I text Cindy, "I'm running a 102-degree fever. No meds at home." It takes her 30 minutes to reply to me, "So? What do you want me to do? Learn how to fly and deliver you meds? I'm busy going over a proposal. Just order it online and have it delivered to your place." My high fever is so intense that I can barely lift a finger. Amid the haziness, I pass out. When I wake up, I see my best friend, Eugene Grant, by my side. He sighs and feeds me warm water and a tablet. "She's just taking advantage of the fact you're too kind to say anything. If I were you, I would've blown up already." Two weeks later, Eugene also comes down with a high fever. I've planned to rush over and take care of him, but I see his latest post online. The photo shows only a woman's hand holding a spoon. The caption reads, "The weather is getting colder, and I've unfortunately come down with a cold. Thank goodness for a superwoman who travels over 500 miles to deliver me soup." I know what I'm seeing. It's Cindy's hand. On Cindy's wrist is the bracelet I've spent six months saving up to buy for her. At long last, it dawns on me that the empty seat remains empty not because she can't make it, but because she simply doesn't want to. In that case, I'll stop saving a seat for a person who will never come.

"Who are you?" I ask, gawking at this ugly man who looks like the devil himself. "Your savior." savior? I may not remember anything from my past, but one thing is for sure, according to my judgment: this monster-lookalike can't be a savior. And from whom did he supposedly save me? "And if you are done ogling me, now, on your knees. Time to serve the purpose for which I saved you." I am snapped out of my thoughts by him tearing his shirt and walking closer in a pretty unnerving way. "Whi...ch is?" I whimper, trying to stand up from the bed and perhaps run for my dear life. Unfortunately, he grabs me viciously before I can take a step. A loud growl slips from my lips as he slams me back on the bed and hovers atop me. "To please me, little dove." He hoarses, embarking on his evil, dirty mission.