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For centuries, witches have fallen victim to the cruel tradition of witch-hunting. Baila is their only hope at salvation but she destroys all chances the witches have to gain power and freedom by repeating the horrible mistake that started the witch hunt. Hunted and ashamed, Baila dives into more trouble by trespassing into werewolf territory where the ruthless lycan king reigns. When she faces him, she realises that stories of his brutality may just be stories and not the truth. Time is running out and thousands of witches are being slaughtered because of her mistake but Baila's plan to use the lycan king to save her people gets complicated when she finds herself falling. Will the lycan king catch her? If he does, all hell will break loose and every dying flame and hatred against lycans and werewolves will be kindled.

Elena Halloway. Perfect by all means, be it in looks, virtues and talent. Unrivalled by all, she was happy. She had accomplished her dream, stood at the top of the entertainment world and was loved by all. But soon, that all came crashing down. "Why...? Did I do something wrong? Am I the reason for all of this?" Driven by despair, she couldn't help but sink to the floor. "Why? Did I ask for any of this? Why me of all people?" "Why? That's a question you should ask yourself." And with that, he left. That was the very moment she realised, the world put on a facade. Deceiving themselves and her as well. In the face of the accident, she was left with nothing but trauma and pain. Thrown away like a broken doll, she was left to be played with by fate. Twisting and contorting her limbs, hung on a string. She was powerless. They were all slave to fate. But when fate decided to give her a saving grace, she decided to make the best of it. After all, who could've imagined that she would be able to achieve redemption?

“Heidi, call me a monster. Call me a beast. Fuck, call me the Devil. It does not change the way I feel about you.” “How about the way ‘I’ feel about you?” I whisper. “This hatred—built from love, passion… trust.” Hunter gently takes my hand and interlocks it with his before placing both on his chest. He then leans down to bump his forehead on mine, making me close my eyes and sigh as it drives in me sensations that cause me to crumble. “I love you, Heidi…” he whispers—doesn’t do good for my eyes bleeding more tears. “…and I will let the world burn for you.” ~ H E I D I I’ve lived twenty-two years but never seen a man like Hunter. He has killed everyone I know and is bound to do more, which is why I’m determined to stop him, if only I wouldn’t have to deal with these emotions—old feelings clashing with new ones; love and hate—that make me want to squash his heart one moment, then piece it up the next. But I know I can’t hang between these feelings forever. I have to choose, and quickly. H U N T E R I am told she is dangerous, a being forbidden from existence. Yet, I find myself protecting her. I shouldn’t, but I do. Then I realize she isn’t the threat. Where danger lies is with my feelings—ones that I must not have, that will be my downfall. To be that creature feared by all, I need to be the man with nothing to lose. But now I have so much to lose. Even nature has fated our Love to be doomed and will see to its vow that one of us is destroyed.

My cousin, Isabelle Cox, dies of cancer. However, my adoptive parents, who have always loved her the most, don't shed a single tear. Instead, they go on an overseas trip with my adoptive brother, Cedric Cox. After they return, they give me an exquisite doll and ask me to put it right next to my bed every night. My adoptive mother, Vivian Mason, looks at my swollen eyes and smiles tenderly. "Why, you're such a grateful and sentimental kid. This is such a pretty doll. Let it stay by your side and accompany you like it's your sister, alright?" I agree. Later, my body becomes increasingly weak, and I sleep all day. One day, when I wake up, I am horrified to find that I am trapped inside the doll and can't move at all. My deceased cousin, Isabelle, became "me"! Beaming widely, she cuts my hair and also my limbs one by one. Then, she throws my mutilated body into the fire. As the flames engulf me, I see my adoptive family standing behind her. On their faces, they show happy and relieved expressions. When I open my eyes again, I am back to the day when they give me the doll.

Elena had once believed that silence could mean safety. That a gentle hand and a warm cup of tea placed quietly on her desk every morning could be a form of love. Lucien was never cruel—not in the obvious ways. He remembered how she liked her eggs, noticed when she swapped her perfume, and sent flowers on days he knew she wouldn’t expect them. He raised her like one would raise a pet—softly, without question. And Elena, foolish in the way only the very lonely can be, mistook his quiet affection for devotion. She told herself he was reserved. Mysterious. That love didn’t always wear its heart on its sleeve. But when the old flame returned—the one who spoke his language without needing to try—Elena saw it. The difference. He looked at her like a man who had found his lost religion. And Elena? She had simply been convenient. No tears, no scene. Just papers on the breakfast table, beside the eggs he cooked perfectly. She didn’t accuse or beg. She only asked for freedom. He didn’t sign. He chuckled. A soft, dismissive sound. “A cat raised indoors doesn’t know how to survive on the street, Elena. You’ll come back." But she didn’t. She disappeared, like smoke—except she didn’t vanish, not really. She lived. She wore colour again. Laughed at bad jokes. Let strange men hand her coffee and ask for her number. Lucien? He watched. He watched her become someone without him. And it drove him mad. The night he cornered her outside the gallery, rain in his hair and desperation in his eyes, he looked like a man undone. "Elena," he breathed, "please. Look at me. Just once." She did. Calm as ever, and her love already gone.

I am the biggest female drug lord in Riverdale, who gets shot in the head during a crackdown operation. As soon as the news breaks, the entire internet celebrates. People even crowdfund to take over a giant screen in the city square to display my obituary photo. They say I filled Riverdale with drugs and single-handedly destroyed countless families. They accuse me of leaking operation routes, causing the deaths of my ex-husband's 13 anti-drug force teammates. Hundreds of thousands sign a petition demanding my ashes be crushed and turned into tiles for public restrooms. To calm the overwhelming public anger, my ex-husband, Tyler Lowell, who is now captain of the anti-drug force, decides to launch a public hearing across the internet to livestream my entire life of alleged crimes. On the day of the trial, people thronged the city square. "A woman like her deserves to be cut up into a thousand pieces! How many families are destroyed because of the drugs she sells?" "I hear she is ruthless. She would even stoop to making a three-year-old do her bidding. She is inhumane!" "She got so many anti-drug officers killed. I want to see her end up in hell!" Tyler presses the start button with a blank expression. The crowd's furious curses come crashing down like waves. It is as if they want to tear me apart and condemn me forever. But in the next second, what appears on the giant screen is me in a uniform, standing under the national flag and taking a solemn oath. In that instant, the entire square falls silent.