The Vanished Birds

The uprising killed the royal Cardinal family. The Cardinals were magic wielders and had ruled for over five hundred years with an iron fist. Eventually, the humans waged war against wielders and shifters. They overthrew the crown, branding all non-human beings as Unnaturals and leaving them to fend for themselves in a broken world. Ida has spent those last ten years since the uprising sold from one household to another, never able to repay her indenture. The situation, although not ideal, has offered her a second chance at life. A life in hiding was better than no life at all, and she did not wish to suffer the same fate as others of her kind. Sold into the services of Duke Kestrel, she meets a seductive yet mysterious Lord Alexander. Already in his thirties, Xander cares very little for his title and responsibilities. He should have been married years ago, but no woman appears to please him. Many assume he is simply difficult, but not all is what it seems. Xander carries the weight of being a shifter, unable to find his mate in this new kingdom. After a chance meeting between them, Ida becomes overwhelmed by Alexander's mixed signals. She dares not succumb to her inner feelings. Letting Xander in would mean opening up about what she truly is, and she is determined to keep her past hidden. Xander, however, has other plans. He intends to get his mate by whatever means necessary. When both their lives intertwine by fate, a new quest emerges fraught with danger as they encounter all walks of life trying to tear them apart. Can their love survive, or is there a more sinister plot afoot?

My parents were killed by witches when I was just a child. I was forced into hiding for 10 years before I finally got the nerve to come out. What world awaits me and why were my parents killed? Will I ever be safe from the forces that are following me?

Absconded depicts the story of a man that was framed for the death of his kids,he escaped from prison when an unknown person tried to kill him.He decided to keep hiding until he has proved his innocence.Will he be able to keep promise?.Find out!!!.

While packing Ethan's flight bag, I found a custom solo wings pin. The engraving on the back read: For Lark, to celebrate your first solo. Beneath the box sat the receipt for Skyler's flight school tuition, paid in full by Ethan, along with a photograph. In the photo, she was sitting in the pilot's seat. Ethan's gloved hand rested over hers on the control yoke. Seven years ago, I had sat in that same seat. Back then, I was one step away from my first solo flight, but Ethan talked me out of it again and again, always claiming it was "for my own good." He said flying was dangerous, that someone had to stay home and take care of things. I put down my logbook, pressed the wrinkles out of every one of his captain's uniforms, and spent seven years living by his flight schedule. Only now did I finally understand. It wasn't that he didn't want to take anyone flying. He just didn't want to take me. What made it even more absurd was that the night Skyler first flew through the clouds, I was alone in a hospital, losing our baby. I called him over a dozen times. At three in the morning, he finally called back, his voice flat and indifferent. "I just took Lark through the clouds. Next time something comes up, give me a heads-up." I put the wings pin back exactly where I found it, then pulled the crumpled ultrasound printout from the bottom of the drawer and tucked it inside the logbook that had been gathering dust for seven years. This time, I wasn't going to wait for him to look back. He convinced me to leave the pilot's seat, then turned around and put another woman in the sky. So I would leave him and take back the sky that had always been mine.

THE ABANDONED WIFE Today is our third wedding anniversary. Dinner is ready… but he never came home. Our union was never built on love—just a misunderstanding. Three years, no child, a mother-in-law who never accepted me, a distant husband, and yet… I still love him. Three days ago, I found out I was pregnant. Tonight, I was hoping to tell him the news. But a notification shattered everything: a photo of him, kissing my sister. I recognized the place. I grabbed my keys. I came back alone. I spent the night crying. In the next room, they made love. And I, curled up on a sofa, hit rock bottom. In the morning, his mother woke me with a bucket of ice water. She screamed that I was no longer her daughter-in-law, that I had no place here anymore. So I left soaked, humiliated, shattered. But in my pocket, there is a crumpled piece of paper. A stranger's first name. A gaze that fell on me, last night. The only one that truly saw me. Maybe this is where it all begins.

After the Ferguson family went bankrupt, I gave up everything I had and followed Ethan Ferguson to Stormbay. Five years later, he had fought his way back into the top three on the Forbes rich list. He rebuilt the empire everyone believed he had lost for good. He never mentioned marriage, no matter how much we had been through together. I did not understand the reason until the night before Memorial Day. I woke after midnight and saw Ethan standing alone on the terrace of our beachfront house. The cold ocean wind swept through the darkness while he lit three white candles one by one. Their flames flickered softly against the night. He faced the distant horizon across the sea and lowered his voice. “Mom, Dad… I’m sorry I couldn’t come see you again this year.” He paused, and his expression softened. “However, please keep watching over Vivi. Keep her healthy… and bless the two of us with a long, happy life together.” Warmth spread through my chest as I listened. My health had never been good, and every year near Memorial Day, Ethan refused to let me exhaust myself with the long trip home. He always went alone to visit his parents’ graves while I stayed behind in Stormbay. This year, when I saw the homesickness in his eyes, I decided to surprise him. I wanted to make the trip in his place. I never expected my entire world to collapse the moment I arrived at the cemetery. Ethan’s name was carved into the headstone. Beside it was the name of another woman. Olivia Ferguson. My gaze drifted lower. A framed family photograph sat at the foot of the headstone. Its edges had curled from the ocean wind. In the picture, Ethan held a little blond-haired boy in his arms. The child looked no older than three. Olivia stood beside him, smiling softly at the camera. A sharp pain cut through my chest. Only then did I understand the truth. The “Vivi” Ethan prayed for was never Vivian. It had been Olivia all along.