Boots On The Ground Synonym

My husband’s first love and I were kidnapped at the same time. As a professional negotiator, my husband rushed to the scene as soon as possible to save us. When the kidnappers agreed to release one hostage, he chose to let them keep me to protect her. I knelt on the ground, desperately begging him to save me first, but his face was expressionless. “Tammy is still a virgin. If she’s raped, she won’t be able to handle it.” “You’re different. You’re already married to me. Even if something happens to you, I won’t hold it against you.” He shoved me toward the kidnappers. He probably didn’t know I was three months pregnant, and he was about to become a father.

Young Autumn Wilde was a happy she-wolf along with her twin, Summer Wilde, and her big brother, Luke Wilde. It was all she ever wanted. To be close with her family and played with pack members since she is the daughter of the Alpha of Red Moon pack. But, when she's 17, she ran away from the pack's house. She ran from one pack to another pack just to search for the most precious matter for her. By that, she lives in the woods, sleeps on the ground covered with leaves. But that's not the worst thing yet. The worst thing happened after the best sleep she ever had since she ran away from home. Why? Maybe you want to find out yourself......

The lab blew, and my girlfriend—Beatrice Whitmore—didn't even glance my way. She bolted straight for Joseph, wrapping herself around him. When the dust settled, she climbed into the ambulance with him. I was still on the ground, bleeding out, and she didn't spare me a look. Eighteen years raising him, and apparently, that was all the space her heart had left. My coworkers dragged me to the hospital. ICU, barely breathing. When I finally clawed my way out, throat raw, I called my advisor. "Prof. Beaumont, I'm in. I'll go. Even if it means disappearing for five years, I don't care." That was supposed to be my wedding month. Not anymore.

Avery Monroe walks away from the ashes of her marriage with nothing but her pride and a plan after her husband, Nathaniel Sterling filed for divorce to be with his first love. Years later, she returns as a woman reborn, cloaked in success and vengeance. Her designs now rule the fashion world, but the past refuses to stay buried. When she crosses paths with Wyatt Kane, the enigmatic man who offers her everything she once lost, she finds herself torn between revenge and the dangerous pull of desire. What Avery doesn’t know is that Wyatt carries secrets of his own, ones that could destroy them both. In a story of love born from ruin, two hearts must decide whether to heal… or burn everything to the ground?

I can feel the damp ground as I try to lift myself out of the large hole I find myself currently in. I thought he was perfect, I thought he could be the one. I never imagined I'd be where I am now. I would of never Imagined he could or would do what he has done to me. Sashsa Daniels thought she had found the right man in a city full of guys who thought to highly of themselves even though the city they lived in wasn't more then a place tourist came to taste new foods and see the sights even though there wasn't really much to see. Sasha thought she had found a good man only for her dreams to die as she did.

Anita has always wanted a mate, one that will save her from all the pain and torment she receives in her pack. But finds out on her 21st birthday that the alpha of her pack, the cause of all her pain and torture, the murderer or her parent, was her mate. Not only did he reject her, but he sold her away as a gift to the most feared lycan. Rumours whispered that Orion was cursed by the moon goddess, having lost two previous mates in brutal and mysterious circumstances. Everyone expected Anita to meet the same fate, lasting no more than two weeks in his pack. But Anita defied the odds, surviving over two weeks under Orion's rule. And then, something unexpected happened. Orion, the feared and ruthless lycan, began to worship the ground Anita walked on.

My company had arranged a wilderness survival retreat deep in the heart of Moonshadow Forest—a place where even seasoned wolves tread cautiously. That night, a sudden downpour ripped through the campsite, drenching the earth and filling the air with the thick scent of damp moss and shifting soil. I woke abruptly, the cold seeping into my bones. Instinctively, I reached out to the space beside me, seeking the warmth of my mate. Empty. A sharp pang of unease clawed at my chest. My wolf, dulled by the suppressant herbs I had taken to blend into human society, stirred restlessly. Fumbling in the darkness, I grabbed my phone and dialed Nigel. The line barely had time to connect before he emerged from the undergrowth—disheveled, breathless. His grip was iron-tight as he seized my wrist, pulling me downhill. His scent was sharp with adrenaline, but beneath it—something foreign, something wrong. We ran, my boots sinking into the mud. My keen vision caught glimpses of his rumpled clothing, the way his collar was misaligned—and the faint imprint of lips on his jaw. My pulse pounded in my ears. Betrayal. I wrenched my arm from his grasp, my claws itching to unsheathe despite the human form I forced myself to maintain. "Where were you?" My voice came out low, edged with the danger of a wolf barely leashed. The suppressants in my bloodstream faltered under the weight of my fury. The storm had driven everyone into their tents, leaving the clearing eerily silent as we reached the base of the mountain. But she was there. A woman stood beneath the flickering glow of the emergency lanterns, her hair tousled, her fingers gripping Nigel’s jacket as if it belonged to her. I knew her. The new intern. Her face held an unsettling resemblance to mine, as if the Moon Goddess herself had carved her from the shadows of my reflection. The realization struck like a silver dagger to my chest. Even the mate who had once sworn to fight the world for me had given in to betr

"Arise, my Luna." His voice rang in the air and sent shivers down my spine. I looked down at the ground, slowly rising to my feet while holding my breath.  "My name is Clair, Alpha Aeon." I answered respectfully, but I refused to look at him. Frustration rolled off of his aura before it changed into anger. I swallowed hard as bile threatened to rise from my throat.  "Have I done anything to despise you?" His hand snaked around my nape as he took one step closer. "My wolf is so close to marking you, Clair. I can assure you, it'll be painful. I'm the only one standing in the way. Submit, and we'll make it less painful." He moved his hand to my jaw, forcing me to look at him. "Look at me. You'll be mine! And I will make sure all others before me are forgotten." I closed my eyes, and the tears fell from my eyes. I was already losing this battle. I took a deep breath, ready to nod my head, when a ferocious growl marred the air, shaking the ground where I stood.  "I dare you to touch what's mine!" I snapped my eyes open, turning in the direction of the threat. He's here.  He came for me.  My Alpha came for me.  ¤¤¤¤¤ ALPHA JACOB GALHART of the Black Shadow Pack never wanted a mate. He has led his pack for years without a Luna and was content to remain that way. But it was time to produce an heir. Not wanting to find his mate, he set his eyes on this one female, Clair Montrell.  He thought he had everything planned out until she turned out to be the fated mate he never wanted. But would he be able to let her go?

Crimson Bloomed: Ascend Post - Apocalyptic Horror | Action | Yuri Harem | Coming - of - Age | Rated R | Mature Content | Slow Burn The city looked like it had been devoured — chewed up by fire, time, and whatever came after — then spit back out in jagged pieces. Dead drones dangled from power lines like rusted ornaments. Neon signs flickered above fractured pavement, their broken scripts glitching into gibberish. Down the block, a half - melted smartcar burned slow, casting warped shadows across the skeletal remains of a coffee bar. Behind a crumpled tram car, someone crouched low, breath tight in her lungs. The shrieking hadn’t stopped. It came again — sharp, bone-deep, the kind of sound that latched onto your spine and refused to let go. She checked the signal jammer at her hip. Still blinking. Still active. Not for long. They were tracking her. She moved fast — boots silent over broken glass, slipping through the breach in an old laundromat’s wall. Her body moved from muscle memory now: slide through, duck left, over the washer, don’t look at the corpse slumped by the dryer. Out the back. Up the fire escape. On the rooftop, she halted. Not alone. Someone was already there — silhouetted against the bleeding sunset. Combat jacket. Short - cropped hair. Pulse rifle slung casually over one shoulder like it weighed nothing. Like this was just another rooftop, just another war. “Don’t move,” the voice snapped. She lifted her hands slowly. “I’m clean.” “Everyone says that.” “Scan me.” beat. Then the girl stepped forward, rifle still raised but gaze locked in. Dark eyes, sharp, searching — not just for weapons, but tells. Fear. Lies. She lowered the rifle half an inch. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” That wasn’t the line she expected.

I stepped closer. Close enough to smell his cologne—cedarwood, leather, and power. My hand moved. Smooth, practiced. The pistol slide from under the apron into my palm. I raised it fast. But before I could pull the trigger— BANG. Not my shot. A scream tore through the restaurant as another man launched himself toward Romano’s table, blade flashing. Another assassin. What the hell— Romano didn’t flinch. He shoved the table forward, knocking the attacker off balance. The blade scraped across wood, not skin. I ducked instinctively as the room erupted into chaos. Gunfire cracked. Glass exploded. People screamed and dove for cover. “Get him out—NOW!” one of the guards barked. I aimed for the second attacker. Didn’t even hesitate. One shot—head. Gone. The guard saw me. Confusion flashed in his eyes. Then rage. I ran. I weaved between overturned chairs, plates, and screaming bodies. The smell of blood was real now, thick in the air. One of the guards grabbed me. I slammed my elbow into his ribs, twisted, and brought the butt of my gun down on his skull. He dropped like a sack of bricks. Out. I had to get out. My boots pounded the floor as I tore through the narrow hallway. But then— “Elisa.” His voice stopped me cold. I turned. Antonio Romano stood in the middle of the carnage, suit untouched, blood spattered behind him like art. His eyes were on me. And he was smiling. It was darker. Slower. Like a hunter seeing something worth chasing. Somehow, he knew who I was. “Interesting,” he said softly, tilting his head. “They sent you.” I didn’t answer. I ran. But that voice followed me. He knew my name. And he let me go. This wasn’t over. It had just begun.