Arti Amour Sans Fin

I carried my fated mate’s pup. Alpha Seth’s pup. But for twelve years, he refused to claim me. I was his secret. His personal healer. Nothing more. He never even let our son, Leo, call him “Dad.” All because he hated that fate chose an “impure” mate like me. He claimed I drugged him, that I trapped him with a child. He ditched our son's First Howl for another woman. A powerful Beta named Sarah. That was the last straw. I rejected him. I took our son and ran. They say the proud Alpha lost his mind. That the pain of rejection tore him apart, and he hunted us like a madman. But there’s no going back. There is no forgiveness.

Leah, Logan’s adopted sister, threw a tantrum at our first engagement party, an episode of her pup dependency anxiety. But after that night, I gave him an ultimatum: if he couldn’t bond me before I turned thirty, he’d have to choose—me or Leah. Logan believed I’d never walk away. After all, I was bonded by my dying mother’s last wish: to be bonded with the werewolf warrior who’d loved me for ten years. Ten years together. Twelve promises that he’d keep Leah in line. And then came my twenty-ninth birthday—our thirteenth engagement party. Leah locked me in a restroom, stole my gown, and stood beside Logan in my place. She was smiling, glowing, claiming everything that was mine. When I finally stepped out, my gown was tattered. I confronted Logan, but he only said, “Alison, forgive her. I promise, this is the last time.” I looked at the torn gown my mother had sewn through sickness and pain… and I laughed. Logan sighed in relief, thinking I’d let it slide again. But I didn’t. I turned and walked away without a word. After a decade together, he thought I belonged to him. Well, he was wrong. He didn’t know that there was someone else who could give me happiness and fulfill my mother’s wish.

As a martial arts genius, can he be despised, even his own wife can't protect? You can rest assured, I am a martial arts person, creating magic with one hand, bringing you to the peak of life. As long as you're by my side, no matter what you do, the sky will fall down, I'll let you up.

La saga à plus de 2 millions de lectures sur WattpadSurvivante, voilà ce qui la caractérise aujourd’hui. Après avoir échappé à une mort certaine, le constat est lourd. Evalina doit faire face à la perte de sa famille dans des circonstances épouvantables.Mystérieux, est l’avenir qui s’ouvre à elle. Sauvée miraculeusement des flammes par le Leader énigmatique des Surnaturels, ce dernier la transporte dans un monde dont elle ignore l’improbable existence. Combattante, elle devra le devenir. Evaline va se voir confier la tâche de sauver un monde qu’elle ne connaît pas. Mais lorsque l'esprit de la jeune fille est hanté par un Surnaturel qu'elle aimerait détester, que sa profonde nature explose au grand jour et qu'elle se découvre un goût pour le chaos, la tâche devient encore plus complexe qu'elle ne l'était déjà.Dans ce monde, rien n'est ce qu'il semble paraître. Qui est la Démone, et quels secrets dissimule-t-elle ? Que renferme la création du royaume ?...

Andrea Reeves, the new hire in finance, is all looks and no brains. On payday, she mistypes my wages in the payroll system, sending only one cent to my account. Because of that, my payment fails when I try to buy Mom's life-saving medication, and she dies full of regret. Before I can confront Andrea, she bursts into tears, smudging her mascara and makeup. "Ms. Walton, I'm so sorry. I accidentally sent your pay to the janitor you fired. The one who's a single mom. Can't you just think of her as your other mom?" Norman Halt, the finance director—and my husband—immediately shields her behind him. "Don't blame Andrea. If you didn't have enough money saved up, why are you pretending to be the dutiful daughter now?" I nearly faint from crying so hard. Wracked with guilt, Andrea shows up at the funeral with an entire marching band in tow. The mourning hall turns festive and lively, leaving my family and friends stunned. I lose it and yell at her to leave, but she looks completely hurt. "It's already so tragic that she dies from an illness. I just want to give her a joyful send-off!" Furious, the asthma I've managed for years flares so abruptly that my hands shake as I take out my inhaler. She slaps it away and screams, "How could you use such illegal substances? That's against the law!" Blue-lipped and gasping, I crumple to the ground. In my final moments, I hear Andrea's tearful voice. "This is all my fault. I'm an idiot… I didn't realize it's just medicine…" Norman covers for her. "It's not your fault. Spread the word that Ms. Walton died of grief over her mother's passing." That night, my body is cremated. My death goes silent and unnoticed. When I open my eyes again, it's payday all over again.

Mystère. Lutte. Trahison. Trois mots qui rythment le quotidien d’Evalina. Tandis que sa sœur est toujours portée disparue, que l’Optimiste s’est vue brutalement mutilée à jamais et que la Démone devient de plus en plus imprévisible, de nouveaux ennemis sortent de l’ombre.Quel est leur but ? Pourquoi leur chef semble-t-il si intéressé par la Gémone ?Entre secret et embûches, les Surnaturels vont devoir apprendre à rester soudés pour avoir une chance de sauver Réturis. Seulement le combat sera rude et le temps leur est compté.

The night before our Mating Ceremony, my fated mate, Alpha Ryker of the Howling Moon Pack, ordered me to give him the Moon Soul Crystal—the very thing that protected my pack, the Willow Creek Pack. He said he needed it to power up the Howling Moon Pack's Blood Moon Altar. He also promised he'd keep me and my people safe. But he didn't know that we, the healers of the Willow Creek Pack, can only create one Moon Soul Crystal in our entire lives. Making one takes a crazy amount of moon energy. It's the treasure that keeps our pack alive. My mother, worried about me using up my moon energy while I was pregnant, gave up her own Moon Soul Crystal instead. But just three months after Ryker and I were mated, she got sick, fast. She was dying. I knelt in front of Ryker, crying, begging him for the Silverleaf Herb from the Howling Moon's forbidden grounds. It was the only thing that could save my mom. But he just looked at me, his eyes full of disappointment, and kicked me away. "I asked for the Moon Soul Crystal to test you," he snarled. "And just as I thought, you married me for our pack's treasures! Your mother's not sick. You're making it all up!" "You don't deserve to be the Luna of the Howling Moon Pack!" It wasn't until after my mother died, when he was arguing with me, trying to kick me out of the pack, that my mother's things fell and scattered everywhere. Her Soul Stone, the symbol of a wolf's spirit, shattered. That's when he finally realized he was wrong. He fell to his knees, begging me not to leave, crying for me to forgive him.

When Caterina Mari Santelli--daughter of a Capo--was born, she became a living curse. It was against the Italian mob to fraternize with the Russian enemy. And when her father decided to marry her late Russian mother, their family was walking on a thread in the Mafia industry. So, here comes Lucas De Marchi--a Boss--pure Italian from the greatest and legendary bloodline. His goal is to marry Caterina for her to be stripped off from being a curse, for him to be, someday, head of both clans and another dark mission he has to fulfill. But Caterina isn't a damsel in distress. When she met Lucas and discovered the truth, she knew there was blood to be shed. Only she didn't know whose.

Pendant la journée familiale à la maternelle, mon mari, Guillaume Simon a refusé d’y aller sous prétexte d’une urgence au travail et a demandé à ma fille et à moi de ne pas y aller. Ma fille, Lilas, était très déçue, ça m’a fait de la peine et j’ai décidé d’y participer avec ma fille. Dès que nous sommes arrivées, j’ai vu que mon mari tenait un petit garçon dans ses bras et tenait la main de sa meilleure amie d'enfance, Sabrina Martin. Tous les trois, parlant et riant, étaient heureux, comme une famille. Quand Guillaume nous a vues, ma fille et moi, il a légèrement froncé les sourcils avant de lâcher la main de Sabrina. « Lola, ne te méprends pas, Sabrina élève seule son enfant, ce n’est pas facile pour elle. Aujourd’hui, c’est l’anniversaire de cinq ans de son enfant, elle voulait juste que son fils ressente l'amour d'un père. » Je lui ai jeté un coup d'œil avec un sourire énigmatique, puis je me suis accroupie et j'ai pris la main de ma fille : « Chérie, dis bonjour à l’oncle. »

A los siete años, papá llevó a casa a una mujer hermosa y fue ella quien me regaló una caja de mangos. Ese mismo día, mamá me vio comerlos con tanto gusto. Firmó los papeles del divorcio sin decir nada y, poco después, se lanzó del edificio. Desde entonces, el mango se convirtió en la pesadilla que me acompañaría toda la vida. Por eso, el día de mi boda le dije a mi esposo, Héctor Preciado, que si algún día quería divorciarse, solo tenía que regalarme un mango. Él me abrazó sin responder y, desde ese momento, el mango también se volvió su tabú. Cinco años después de casarnos, en Nochebuena, su amiga de la infancia dejó un mango sobre su escritorio. Ese día, Héctor anunció que cortaba toda relación con Violeta Sánchez y la despidió de la empresa. Y ahí sí creí, sin dudarlo, que él era el hombre indicado para mí. Hasta que, seis meses después, regresé del extranjero tras cerrar un trato de cien millones de dólares. En la cena de celebración, Héctor me pasó una bebida. Y, cuando ya me había tomado la mitad del vaso, Violeta, la mujer a la que había despedido de la empresa, apareció detrás de mí con una sonrisa provocadora y preguntó en tono despreocupado: —¿Está bueno el jugo de mango? Me giré para mirar a Héctor con incredulidad. Él apenas contenía la risa. —No te enojes —dijo—. Violeta insistió en que te hiciera esta broma. —No te di un mango, solo jugo de mango. Luego añadió, como si nada: —Pero, creo que Violeta tiene razón: que no comas mango es una manía tuya. —Mira lo feliz que estabas tomándolo hace un momento. Mi expresión se endureció. Levanté la mano, le arrojé el resto del jugo en el rostro y me di media vuelta para irme. Porque hay cosas con las que no se bromea. El mango no lo es. Y mi decisión de divorciarme, tampoco.