Author Of My Own Destiny Mga Nobela at Kwento

Covered in thick layers of dust is a brown leather book. Ever so carefully, I pull it out and wipe the dust off with my hand. It is hard to see the lettering, but I see the familiar “W.” With everything I had, I inhale and hold my breath before blowing across the beautiful leather material sitting in the palm of my tiny hands. “The World of the Unknown. I found you.”

I stand to leave and shake my head, “it’s a shame, I wish I could do more for him, but it seems he is the only person that can change his destiny and he keeps following the darkness, runs head first into it, without thought or reason.” “No, he had reason this time, and they call her Whisper.”

There was no fear in their eyes, only pride and an unspoken promise of unwavering support. As the night deepened, a solemn resolve settled within me. The path was treacherous, the stakes immeasurable, but the call of my destiny was clear. With each passing hour, the pieces of the prophecy coalesced within my mind, forging the map of a future that I, Eden Bentley, was born to shape.

“It’s not true. I’ve been tested over and over again. It’s not true! No matter what you say, it’s not true, and even if it was, I don’t care! I’d rather die!” My words echoed through the dream and I gasped as I realized what I said. She stared at me, eyes wide. I swallowed and shuddered again. “You really think you would choose death over your destiny?” Destiny. I looked at her. “You… keep saying destiny, but I didn’t choose any of this.” She scoffed. “Of course, you did—“ “I chose to be picked up by those people?” I asked. “I chose for them to sell me to that auction? I chose Matt and Tony to buy me and—and—“

The artist nodded. "And... any name?" He asked. "Just write a 'V'." Vishesh extended his hand lazily. "Only V?" The artist paused. "Hm." Raghu narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "...V? Ye 'V' kaun hai?" He asked. "Self-love gentleman." Vishesh nodded with complete confidence. Silence. "...What? My own initial." He grinned shamelessly. "If no one else appreciates me... I'll appreciate myself." He placed a dramatic hand over his chest.

It would be: “To live. To choose. To write your own story.” I closed my eyes, hand over Ronan’s, over our pup. “This time,” I whispered into the dark, more to myself than anyone else, “I’m not just surviving the story. I’m authoring it.” The little heartbeat under my palm kicked once more, like a period at the end of a sentence. Done.

“Father, I cannot just abandon…” “You are abandoning no one,” he said gently. “You are stepping into what you were born to do.” Born to. As if destiny had the right to decide who I loved. Who I fought beside. Who I lived with. Destiny. I had spent my entire life choking on the weight of it. First through whispered prophecies. Then in nightmares shaped by Lysandra’s cruelty. Then through magic that tore me between worlds.

"Check the other paper" she points out and I do so. I read it aloud again, God, I just had the dream. Daisy wants to claim power and as a loyal servent she wants me and Sofia to stand by her side, I would love to do it but my family would by shattered to pieces then. What will Justin do all alone. Michel says I should ignore the dream call. I know Daisy is capable of worse but I'm going to try my best to not abandon my family at this times of difficulty. Heaven help me make the right decision.

The man said as he open the door for Liam. " We'll wait here -! " Liam nodded and went inside. When the door closed Liam eyes dropped on the man infront of him. His eyes is focused on a thick book. He cleared his throat to get his attention. " Good Afternoon, Noah. I am-- " " Owen Liam. I know who you are, you don't need to introduce yourself. " The man said in a deep voice. Liam, it's not surprising that everyone knows him. Afterall, he's a famous businessman in this country.

I really did not want to pick it up because I knew the contents of it would be begging me to change my mind and I did not want to; however, my hands contrasted my resolution as they were itching to know whatever she had said, and I was right! “Babe’s you can’t be serious! You can’t just give up like this and stop using the house as an excuse! You know you can stay there for as long as you like. If you try, you could get another job and maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as the other, and I could ask my father if-” I halted reading the letter at that point. I did not want her helping anymore. She had already done enough for me. I did not want to be a beggar anymore because that was what I had been c