Angel Of Death Manga Ending

My husband is a haute couture designer. When his true love goes blind in her right eye, he goes to his mother's ward and asks her for help in getting me to sign an organ donation agreement. What he doesn't know is that I'm already dead.

In the midst of a bustling metropolis, Sumire, a diligent and determined orphan with an insatiable thirst for knowledge, is engrossed in her studies while seated on a park bench under the radiant rays of the summer sun. It is here that she met a five-year-old boy, who unbeknownst to her, will change the course of her destiny. Mort, her fated mate, is an enigmatic vampire whose heart is captured at the very first glimpse of Sumire. Little does she realize that a world of supernatural beings surrounds her, as Mort's obssesion and desire for her sets into motion a series of events that will forever alter her life's trajectory. Their initial meeting serves as the threshold to an unknown realm, one inhabited by lurking monsters whose predatory instincts unveil a perilous threat. On a fateful night, beneath the crimson shroud of intimacy, that Mort awakens Sumire's dormant memories and primal thirst for blood. This awakening occurs whilst their enemies lurk menacingly outside their bedroom door, launching an unsuspecting assault on the bounty placed upon her head. How will Sumire navigate this newfound reality, where the tales of mere mortals pale in comparison? Will she be able to unravel the enigma of her own existence before it engulfs her?

My family is the oldest healing bloodline in the Frostmoon Pack, and I am the most promising talent to become the pack's Chief Healer. My destined mate, who promised to mark me on my 20th birthday, instead chose my stepsister Eliza on the very day that was meant to be mine. Then Alaric Blackwood, the legendarily powerful and cold Alpha of the Blackwood pack, openly pursued me after I was abandoned. For five years after becoming his mate, he treated me with tender care and bone-deep devotion. He told me not to work so hard as a healer and to focus on being his Luna. Until I accidentally overheard a conversation between him and his loyal Beta. "Alpha, Eliza has already become Chief Healer. How long will you continue pretending to love Amara?" "It doesn't matter since I can't be Eliza's mate anyway. Besides, as long as I'm with Amara, she won't interfere with Eliza's happiness." Every night, he prayed to the Moon Goddess, and every word was filled with longing and love for Eliza. "May the Moon Goddess bless Eliza. May she find peace in body and spirit." "May the Moon Goddess grant Eliza all she desires, and protect all that she loves." ... "Eliza, we're not destined for each other in this life. I only pray we become fated mates in the next." Only then did I realize that my mate—his body belonged to me, but his heart belonged deeply to my stepsister. I've prepared a fake identity and planned a staged death at the hands of rogue wolves. From now on, we will never meet again, in this life or any other.

After being reincarnated as the villain in a story where everyone doted on the heroine, the system appeared. It told me that if I could win over any one of the male leads, I would regain a healthy body and return to my original world. But I failed to win over any of them. There was my adoptive brother, the fake heir, who grew up with me. My rebellious high school deskmate, the real heir, who became a boxer. And my childhood sweetheart, the genius surgeon. Even my own son, whom I carried for ten months. Without exception, they all fell in love with that cold, stubborn damsel while growing to deeply despise me. The system sighed and told me that if I could die at the hands of any one of the male leads, I would be able to see my parents in the original world. In the end, I used every method possible and was finally killed by them, with their own hands. But why did they all go mad afterward?

My roommate sets me up. She deliberately forces me into a death-trap survival game. As I shut my eyes and wait for death to take me, I realize that the game's bosses can read my mind. "Look at the blood spurting from this baby doll's neck. It's like a fountain of pee." The baby doll is baffled. It's about to launch its ultimate move, but it falters. "Man, look at how this guy is still sweeping the streets when he's so old. Does he not have a pension?" The old man is about to swallow me whole, but he suddenly gets a heart attack. An ambulance takes him away. "Oh, so this is the amusement park's owner. Oh, dear god, he's handsome, albeit a little skinny. I can send him flying with a kick!" The handsome owner's expression darkens. He instantly takes off his shirt to reveal his washboard abs. "Do you still think I'm skinny?"

On the day of our engagement, my Alpha mate Kane mistakenly thought that my mom had seduced his dad and almost killed his mom. He canceled our ceremony and forced me, who was eight months pregnant, to jump into the silver pit. Kane hated me for three years, and threatened me with my child to be the most humble slave in his pack, watching him and other women make love. "Aria, you destroyed my family! I will never let you go in this life!" Finally, I accepted my fate and stopped resisting, letting the guards throw me into the silver pit. However, when Kane found out that those things had nothing to do with me, he went completely crazy looking at the pool of blood in the silver pit.

This is no ordinary werewolf tale. Romance and fantasy collide with a curse spun from prophecy and obsession. This is a story of torment and resilience. Of wolves and gods. Of a woman broken again and again, only to rise stronger each time. And at the heart of it all… is a love fated by the Moon. If you’re the kind of reader who thrives on slow-burning tension, this tale will consume you. But tread carefully: the deeper you go, the darker it gets. -------------- Alinta Ull, a bookish, headstrong, and haunted werewolf. Since her eighteenth birthday, tragedy has stalked her in a cruel pattern. Every three years, it brings death, rejection, or abandonment. She believes the Moon has cursed her, and… maybe it has. Desperate to escape her fate, she and her fierce wolf, Angela, travel to the rumoured resting place of the Rogue Deity, a mythical werewolf prophesied to rise beneath the eighth crimson moon. Coincidentally, on Alinta’s thirtieth birthday. But fate is a cruel thing. Something, or someone is watching. A wolf obsessed. A monster in disguise. One who has waited years to possess her, and now has no intention of letting go. In a world where devotion becomes delusion, and love becomes a weapon, one truth remains: Some mates are chosen by the Moon. Others are stolen by monsters. -------------- Content Warning: This novel contains dark and mature themes, including sexual assault, emotional and psychological abuse, trauma, captivity, and manipulation. While it ultimately becomes a tale of hope, rebirth, and true love, the road is long, raw, and often tragic. Reader discretion is strongly advised.

After recovering from breast cancer, my fiancé started making excuses to stay out all night. On my birthday, I finally tracked him down on a yacht where he was joking with his friends. "I figured once she died, the engagement would be off the table. Who knew she'd be so hard to die.” "But I've got a brilliant plan—I'll fake my death at the wedding. We can livestream it and watch how this woman who worships me to the core breaks down in tears." I couldn't help but smile to myself. If Travis Luther could play dead, so could I. In the end, he was the one who broke down sobbing, begging me not to walk away.

This book is authored by Dripping Creativity. “Stay away, stay away from me, stay away,” she shouted, over and over. She kept shouting even though it seemed she had run out of things to throw. Zane was more than a little interested in knowing exactly what was going on. But he couldn’t focus with the woman making a ruckus. “Will you shut the fuck up!” he roared at her. She fell silent and he saw tears start to fill her eyes, her lips trembled. Oh fuck, he thought. Like most men, a crying woman scared him shitless. He would rather have a gunfight with a hundred of his worst enemies than have to deal with one crying woman. “And your name is?” he asked. “Ava,” she told him in a thin voice. “Ava Cobler?” he wanted to know. Her name had never sounded so beautiful before, it surprised her. She almost forgot to nod. “My name is Zane Velky,” he introduced himself, holding out a hand. Ava’s eyes grew bigger as he heard the name. Oh no, not that, anything but that, she thought. “You have heard of me,” he smiled, he sounded satisfied. Ava nodded. Everyone who lived in the city knew the name Velky, it was the largest mafia group in the state with its centre in the city. And Zane Velky was the head of the family, the don, the big boss, the huge honcho, the Al Capone of the modern world. Ava felt her panicked brain spin out of control. Trigger warnings: Talk about SA Body image issues Light BDSM Descriptive descriptions of assaults Self harm Harsh language

"Why are you acting all mean and rude? I'm just trying to be nice here" he snapped making me stop and turned to glare at him. "I never told you to be nice! Why don't you go back to your little world and forget that I exist like you used to do?" I sneered. "Why the sudden interest!" I yelled in frustration and walked away from him. The bad Boy was simply infuriating. I was stopped. I flew in his chest as he gripped on my wrist and pulled me to him. My back was pressed against his chest and I could feel him breathing next to my ear. "Once I aim for someone, I always get her" he whispered huskily.