Black Flame Ritual Elden Ring

Who would have thought that Echi, an average man in a village would ever have anything to do with the mistake of an ancestor?Isiewu, a diviner and Chief priest of Umuolu, a ruthless man who pretends to be a saviour lures the village into a war they were not meant to partake in. In the end, we find the torn heart of a young boy as he begins his search for the truth. Will he find the truth? Will more difficulties face him? This 19th century masterpiece is set in a small Igbo village in present day Nigeria and features love, mistakes, disaster and most of all, mysterious events.

Araulla Jones was a seventeen-year-old who became wretched when her father was lost. Finding no peace at their home, she chose to run away. She had no one to lean on since her father left that molded her into becoming a tough and fearless woman to cover up the grief. That grief brought vengeance, and vengeance brought depth, leading to rebellion. It was when his uncle, William, took the opportunity of conspiring with Araulla about a job she had to take: she should return home and save their company her mother was about to destroy. Having a tough relationship with her didn't make Araulla hesitant of agreeing with the plan. It was up to her to make a move, as she dealt with more drama in her life. If she had to face the burden that weighed more than the world, where could invulnerability lead her?

Love and Obsession conflict in this thrilling novel, where age is just a number and love is a crime. Follow the lives of Grace Winters an 18 year old dreamer and Leonard Black a 33 year old Business man, and their conflicting love story or is it?. Can their love survive the secrets and discoveries they find along their journey or would it leave them shattered and broken beyond repair?

I am a fiery black wolf. And my name is Konstantin, because I'm a guy! Being a female but being born a man is hell in the modern world. Well, I had to get used to it, because I have a goal - to find my father's pack. To achieve it, I am ready to do anything, even a deal with a demon, because the only representative of my race is not going to help me. Fire wolf or snow demon, which one should you trust?

Three days before the wedding, the church called to inform me that my fiancé had changed the date. When I went to ask him why, I walked in on him throwing a bachelor party with his friends. "Samuel, this was the day Claire personally chose. Why would you suddenly change it?" someone asked. Samuel Gordon stubbed out his cigarette, looking utterly nonchalant. "Because that day happens to be Janet's birthday," he said. "I need to celebrate it with her." The room fell silent in shock. "Aren't you afraid Claire will find out and kill you? Have you forgotten what she did before?" At the mention of my name, Samuel gave an icy snort. "That was all in the past. Claire loves me to death now. She even took three bullets for me once, so how could she ever bring herself to hurt me?" I stood at the doorway, watching the snow fall behind me, and let out a long sigh. Five days later, he stood in an empty church, frantically calling my phone. "Did you forget? It's our wedding day!" "I didn't forget," I said. In another church, wearing a wedding gown, I was saying "I do" to another man.

“A black rose symbolises death and grief but new beginnings as well.” Rojean Cai has the most perfect life anyone could ever imagine. She has a stable job that pays her well, a fiance who loves her so much, and a family that will continue to support and care for her and she feels like life has just been really kind to her. Unbeknownst to her, when Krister Usoro approached her for a favour-- a favour in which she felt she couldn’t decline, her life had turned for the worse as it had never been. All hell breaks loose when the truth about a person she never thought she’d meet unveils, leaving her clinging to the thin thread of hope she has left.

"Men are only attracted to you either you are pretty or you have a nice body. Nobody cares about the heart. And I find these men nothing less than wolves."

It was our seventh anniversary. Christopher Quinton proposed to me with nothing but a ring pull. He got his true love a house. When I said no, he rebuked me like I was some sort of gold digger. "I thought my love for you was worth more than anything money could buy. I only got Rachel that house to pay her back for all she did for me. I can't believe you thought I still loved her. You disappoint me." I broke up with him and tossed the ring pull into the bin. Then, I walked off. The next day, Christopher took away my position as VP and told everyone he was getting engaged to Rachel. … Five years later, we ran into each other at a charity horserace. He was a successful businessman, and the woman beside him was Rachel, all dressed in custom-made clothes. I was dressed in janitor attire and stuffing plastic bottles into my woven bag. He mocked, "Look at you, Queenie Dean. Scavenging for a living. Bet you didn't see this coming when you ditched me, did you?" I ignored him. My son had run off, and I had to look for him. The boy noticed the plastic bottles that were strewn across the ground, and he insisted that we stay back to finish his social practice activity here.

Steal the CEO's Black Card or his cold heart? "Please... Please sir I'm begging you, I didn't steal the card. Please believe me" Belle hopelessly begged, tears welling her already messy face. "You deserve to be in prison...fraud!" the store manager exclaimed in pure disdain, glaring as he snickered. Belle was an orphan from a young age, struggling for her dream. A dream of becoming a great doctor. A dream she weaved together with her late parents. For several years, a tiny room in a dilapidated building served her humble home, living at the mercy of others. Most of the time she has empty pockets and an empty stomach. She endured the ridicule from wearing worn-out clothes and torn shoes for medical school. Life is a struggle for her but never did she think of stealing, especially the BLACK CARD of the famous and cold CEO, Ethan DelValle.

Despite a decade of marriage, Simon never once shared my bed, claiming that he had pledged himself to ascetic practices and that it was beneath him. I thought that he suffered from some shameful ailment and guarded his secret like a devoted fool, until my birthday, when I came home to find him entangled with a brothel worker before the floor-length mirror. When I lunged forward in rage, he drove a shard of that broken mirror straight through my heart. When I awoke, I was gripping my phone, its screen illuminating a message Simon had just sent: [I’ll still give you a lavish wedding, but the marriage certificate? That belongs to her.]