Atla Water

The hairs on the back of my neck stood as his lips brushed against mine. The warmth in his eyes made butterflies swarm in my stomach, and I pushed myself up on the balls of my feet to close the distance between us. I knew he must feel the same way I did, that the feelings between us ran deeper than either of us had admitted to. "Ember?”A man's voice made me pull back, and I turned to meet Tristan's eyes…my mate's eyes. They were full of hurt and betrayal. As if he hadn't rejected me when he found out I, a lowly Omega, was his mate. I told myself to never look back, and I won't let him bring me down again, so I averted my eyes. "Ember is no longer your concern. Get lost.” Dex growled, arm around me in a possessive way. His Alpha command making Tristan grit his jaw before the wolf beside him grabbed his arm and pulled him away to prevent him from causing a scene. I pushed down the churning in my stomach and smiled up at Dex, wanting to pick up where we left off, to show him how much he meant to me… how good we could be together, but I froze as he spoke. "No one is looking now. You can take your hands off me." His words washed over me like a bucket of ice water, though they were just low enough that no one else would hear, saving me from public humiliation. Dex pulled himself from my touch, turned, and walked away. Right, I shouldn't have wanted more. I was just his fake mate and needed to remember my place.

“I'd do it,”   a voice interrupted. “I'd kiss her.”   Laughter cut short like a needle across a vinyl. Heads turned. Eyes widened. There he was— leaning against the auditorium doorway, dressed in all leather black, clutching a helmet, exuding that dangerous calm was— Killian Lancaster— The school bad boy— The school rebel. The dream boy of every female. Boys wanted to be like him, girls wanted him as a boyfriend, teachers saw him as a nuisance who's hardly in school or attended classes but somehow aced all his classes. He's freaking hot with his tall lean intimidating height, coupled with his pretty face and his long jet black hair hanging on his shoulders to round off the ensemble. His water glass eyes that melted both boys and girls fixated on me. —- Brielle Everly has spent her life in the shadows—overweight, shy, and constantly mocked for her body. She’s invisible to the world, an outcast in her own school. But everything changes when she’s tricked into the lead role of the school play. And the worst part? She has to practice kissing scenes with him—Killian Lancaster, the untouchable bad boy wrapped in leather and mystery. But Killian isn’t just a rebel on a motorcycle. Beneath the smirks and defiance lies a secret the school knows nothing about—a truth darker than anyone could imagine. As their worlds collide, an undeniable pull draws him to Brielle—one he can’t explain, control, or resist. But when she discovers who—or what—he really is, will she be his salvation… or his downfall? Because in the end, Brielle isn’t just a girl he can’t ignore. She’s the key to breaking the curse that haunts him and his kind. The only question is… will she save him, or doom them all?

Celeste knew both happiness and sadness, but she had never lost hope, until the time when she lost her dad and her world came crashing down. What was the point of hoping and wishing, when everything she wished for would slip away right from her hands, like water running down her fingers? Pain and depression in itself are unbearable, but what would happen to a person if they have to deal with financial stress too? Celeste had to juggle not only schoolwork but also juggle three different jobs. With great difficulty, she was able to finish her bachelor's, and now she was finally able to get into her dream university for her master's. All this while she thought being far away from home would somehow take her troubles away too, but that wasn't the case. She had a looming 1-year student loan and was barely getting by with a full-time degree. And that's when she was forced to do something that she didn't really think she would have to do. She found herself browsing through what it would take to be a sugar baby and was mortified that it required the sugar baby to have consensual sex and her graysexual ass could never. She was saved from the nightmare when she met a mysterious rich boy/man who was willing to act as her sugar daddy, well not really. Gabrielle a boy of just 23, and an owner of a multi-millionaire company. He had money and everything nice right at his feet. But just like Celeste, he was a broken boy too, craving for a family that was already 6 feet under the ground. And who knew that both of them would find each other and maybe just maybe they would find what they lost all hope for.

“Nice to meet you, Raine,” I said with a forced smile. As soon as she turned her back, I muttered under my breath, “Bitch.” I wasn’t lying—she was practically spilling out of that dress. Seriously? That’s Aiden’s type now? I turned to Arden and whispered, “Babe, I need to use the restroom.” He nodded, and I made my way across the hallway. Unfortunately, the restroom was just past the entertainment room—where Aiden and Raine were glued to each other. Ugh, just my luck. I didn’t even look their way, but from the corner of my eye, I could see them. Aiden had his arm around her, and—what the hell?—his hand was inside her dress. Inside. What a maniac! Doesn’t he care that our parents could walk in? And Raine… really? Already letting him feel her up like that? Where’s her shame? I rushed to the restroom and splashed cold water on my face, trying to wash the frustration off. But the moment I looked up, I froze. Aiden was in the doorway. I turned to leave, but he blocked me and pushed me back inside. “What now?” I snapped, slapping his chest. “Can’t you just leave me alone?” My voice trembled, barely above a whisper. Someone could hear us. “Move! I said I’m leaving!” But Aiden didn’t budge. Instead, he grabbed my wrists and spun me around. My back hit the door with a soft thud, and suddenly, his body was pressed against mine. “Aiden, stop it! What are you doing?” I hissed, but he didn’t answer. He just smirked, lowered his head, and crushed his lips against mine. Damn it… not again.

I received a pornographic video. "Do you like this?" The man speaking in the video is my husband, Mark, whom I haven't seen for several months. He is naked, his shirt and pants scattered on the ground, thrusting forcefully on a woman whose face I can't see, her plump and round breasts bouncing vigorously. I can clearly hear the slapping sounds in the video, mixed with lustful moans and grunts. "Yes, yes, fuck me hard, baby," the woman screams ecstatically in response. "You naughty girl!" Mark stands up and flips her over, slapping her buttocks as he speaks. "Stick your ass up!" The woman giggles, turns around, sways her buttocks, and kneels on the bed. I feel like someone has poured a bucket of ice water on my head. It's bad enough that my husband is having an affair, but what's worse is that the other woman is my own sister, Bella. *** “I want to get a divorce, Mark,” I repeated myself in case he didn't hear me the first time—even though I knew he'd heard me clearly. He stared at me with a frown before answering coldly, "It's not up to you! I'm very busy, don't waste my time with such boring topics, or try to attract my attention!" The last thing I was going to do was argue or bicker with him. "I will have the lawyer send you the divorce agreement," was all I said, as calmly as I could muster. He didn't even say another word after that and just went through the door he'd been standing in front of, slamming it harshly behind him. My eyes lingered on the knob of the door a bit absentmindedly before I pulled the wedding ring off my finger and placed it on the table.

After reuniting with my birth family, my wealthy biological father tossed me a black card and laid down one rule: I could spend as much as I wanted, but I was never to call him Dad—that title belonged only to his adoptive daughter. Clutching the black card, I cautiously bought myself a two-dollar-fifty ice cream cone. Just as I was happily licking the sweet ice cream, the adoptive daughter dropped to her knees before me. "Alice, are you mocking me because I can't even afford something that costs two-fifty in the future?" My brother immediately slapped me twice. "You have money now, but you can't split love. Natalie is my one and only sister!" Then my father splashed boiling water onto my face. "No disgraceful wretch deserves to be a Gervais." To punish me, they sent me off to Rimala, forced to work as a child laborer in the mines. Ten years later, I walked into a grand banquet hall with an ice cream in hand and came face-to-face with my brother, Ansel Gervais, dressed in a hand-tailored suit. "All these years and you're still a disgrace," he sneered, but I couldn't be bothered to argue. "Let go. My dad's waiting for me—and if I'm any later, the ice cream's going to melt." He looked down at me with contempt. "Dad? Who gave you permission to call him that? Natalie will forever be the only Gervais girl—no one can take that away from her!" I rolled my eyes. Who said I was talking about that cheap excuse for a father? I was talking about my adoptive father—the oil tycoon with an incurable sweet tooth. I was in a hurry to let him taste some ice cream.

Kyra Hopkins doesn’t believe in marriage and long term relationships. She co-manages her dream job with her two best friends Lily and Bipasha. With the two worried about her no-dating state, they hit a club with plans to GET KYRA LAID. In a White tiny dress they leave her in a bar nurturing a glass of water and pondering what exactly her newest client’s birthday party theme should be. Horses or cars. That’s what she voices out to the sinfully hot man who took the seat beside hers. And he’s got Kyra’s feet feeling like they were lit on fire. Worst of all, she got what it meant to have butterflies flutter in your stomach walls. Best of all, the man knows what she wants and he wants it too and more. Kyra got in for the ride of her life, planned for a weekend because remember? Kyra doesn’t do long term. But then, neither is Nicholai Damien Ivanov or Sin as he’s more popularly known as into long term relationships. One night stands or at a stretch a weekend fling. Why does the angel in white getting stuck in his head and refusing to leave? Why couldn’t his PI track her from the little information she dropped about herself. The questions haunted his nights and refused to leave until he caught sight of his Angel in a black dress on another man’s arm, then his sister hugged her referring to her as Kyra while his Angel introduced herself to him as April. Sin got his answer and meant to show her how much they weren’t over yet. In fact they hadn’t even begun. It was just the beginning of Nicholai Ivanov’s obsession with his one-night stand.

I jolt awake to splash of ice cold water making contact with my warm skin and ripping me from my dreams. Looking up I see my perpetrator and best friend Bailey giggling, and holding a now half-emptied bucket. “Wake up loser! Last day on the beach and you choose to sleep?” I roll my eyes in annoyance at her bubbly enthusiasm. “Alright I’ll get in for a bit but I’m not going to stay long,” I state with a huff. We each grab a floatie and make our way waist deep before hopping on and linking arms to keep from drifting apart. “Are you excited to be heading back tomorrow? I know I am!” Bailey quipped. Honestly I’d been avoiding that thought the whole trip. Returning to our pack was the last thing I wanted to think about. This week at the beach had been the calm environment I desperately needed after senior year. Returning would mean I would have to finally confront the drama that has become my life the last three months. All through high school I kept my head down, focusing on my team and training. Despite keeping to myself there was always one person stirring sh*t up, my ex, Austin. His father, the Alpha to our pack, gave his life in one of the pack battles last year. Leaving his Luna to raise Austin and his sister on her own. Austin would now be eligible for the Alpha title which worried me. Up until we left he had shown blatant disrespect to my father, Beta to our pack. Not to mention he still had his eyes and ears on me. Returning was the last thing I had on my mind, knowing sh*t is about to hit the fan.

My name is Akira Sy, or rather, Akira Sy Montenegro—18 years old. Yes, I’m married to the man I love most, Kyle Xavier Montenegro. He’s a businessman—handsome, incredibly successful, and has everything. I fell in love with him when I was 16, always dreaming that one day we’d be together, and yes, my dreams came true. The next morning, I woke up to a cold sensation on my face. I opened my eyes and realized it was water, soaking my entire face. I looked up and was met with Kyle’s dark, piercing gaze. I immediately felt a wave of anxiety. “K-Kyle,” I stammered, my voice trembling. He closed his eyes tightly, as if burdened by a huge problem. “Stand up, wh*re. I’m hungry. Cook for me, NOW!” he ordered with authority, making me scramble to get up without even bothering to wipe my face or change clothes. No, we don’t sleep in the same room. He’s in the master bedroom while I stay in the guest room because he finds me disgusting. It hurts so much when those words come from him. He’s always like that. I rushed down the stairs, tying my robe as I went, heading straight to the kitchen to prepare his breakfast. Yes, I’m his secret wife. No one knows except our parents and a few friends. Since we got married, there hasn’t been a day when he didn’t remind me that he doesn’t love me. Not a day goes by without him hurting me, but it’s okay because, like I said, I love him so much that I’m willing to do anything just for him to love me back.

It was our sixth wedding anniversary. Lord Tom didn't pledge his vows to me, but instead gave me his family's crest—a dim, unstable mark, the mark of a blood slave. That very night, while solemn hymns echoed through the hall, he performed a blood oath ceremony with his pure-blood first love, Lady Mia. I refused the mark. He let out a cold, humorless laugh. "Love is a luxury only immortals can afford, Rowling," he said. "My union with Mia is a political necessity—to maintain the purity of the bloodline." His gaze turned icy. "You are a mortal. You should be content with my protection. Few receive such a blessing." I didn't speak.I left before dawn. Six years later, we met again at a banquet hosted by the Vampire High Council. Tom walked in with Mia, her silk dress shimmering silver in the moonlight. Under his rule, his family was about to gain a seat in the Senate. His gaze found me. I stood in the hotel's decorative fountain, the water up to my ankles, soaking wet, sand clinging to my dress. A familiar look of contempt flickered across his face. "Rowling," he said coldly. "You refused my protection, mocked my generosity. Now you're rummaging through a public fountain like a beggar." The corners of his mouth curled slightly. "Do you really think any vampire would take in a mortal without a protector?" I didn't look up. I was searching for my son's tourmaline that had fallen into the water. But to my son, it was a seal—an ancient restraint, suppressing a power that shouldn't awaken so early. I could already feel it weakening. If the seal cannot be repaired in time, the power erupting within him will destroy the entire building.