Brawl Stars Characters Names

At seven months pregnant, I overhear my Alpha mate, Christopher Scott, secretly planning to break tradition by promoting his secretary to a Beta and handing the Luna's duties over to her. His friend urges him to reconsider. "Luna is about to give birth. Isn't it inappropriate to throw a promotion banquet for Scarlett right now?" But Christopher dismisses his concerns. "What can I do? Scarlett is carrying my pup too. I can't just ignore her. "Besides, with Rebecca's temper, she'd definitely throw a huge fit if she found out beforehand. I might as well wait until she has delivered the pup and is too exhausted to interfere, and only then will I hold Scarlett's promotion ceremony. I say nothing. I pretend I know nothing at all and walk away. On the day I go into labor, Christopher holds Scarlett Lane's promotion ceremony at the pack's most sacred altar. While the entire pack is celebrating Scarlett's rise, the doors of the altar are suddenly kicked open. My father, the Alpha King, walks in. "Christopher Scott, is this how you treat my daughter?"

After my financial reports were replaced with blank pages, the company was thrown into a legal and financial crisis. As the accountant, I was accused of falsifying records. I was charged, convicted, and sent to prison. Three years later, I was finally released. My CEO husband and our son came to pick me up in person. Just when I was touched by their loyalty, believing they had stood by me through it all, I overheard their conversation. "Dad, Winona wanted that villa in the suburbs, so you used company funds to buy it. But Mom was the one who got blamed for the falsified accounts. She spent three years behind bars, shunned by everyone. Even I got teased by my friends because of her." Hank took our son's hand, his tone grave. "We agreed never to bring this up again. Back then, Winona needed a place to live. I had no choice but to use the company's money, and your mom had to take the fall." That was the moment I realized—my years in prison, the public disgrace, the humiliation… had all been part of a plan. A plan crafted by the very man I trusted with my life.

My husband, Matthew Glover, fabricates a scandal to help his childhood sweetheart, reporter Melanie Reed, boost her numbers. "Mrs. Glover Sleeps Around—Multiple Affairs Lead to Repeated Miscarriages." He uses it as a gimmick to grab attention. Next thing I know, my name's in the mud and the internet's tearing me to pieces. When I bring up divorce, Matthew says I'm blowing things out of proportion. "Melanie just started at the TV station. If she doesn't deliver, her coworkers will laugh at her. You're just doing her a favor. It's not like you're actually losing anything." I don't even bother arguing with him. I simply push the divorce agreement toward him. "If you want to help her, go ahead. But we're getting divorced!"

On my birthday, my fiancé used his supermarket points to get me a pair of dishwashing gloves. But at an auction, he bought a five-million-dollar gem for his first love. I was mad, confronting him, but he called me a gold digger. "I've been giving you money to spend. Isn't it only right that you take care of me? This was supposed to be my final test for you. If you passed, we'd get married. You've let me down big time." I broke up with him. He turned around and proposed to his first love. Five years later, we ran into each other on a private vacation island. Alex Thompson saw me in the workers' uniform picking up trash on the beach. He mocked me on the spot. "You turned your nose up at the gloves I got you, and here you are, scavenging garbage. Now, even if you begged me, I wouldn't give you a second glance." I ignored him. My son's social studies project was to clean up the backyard with a parent. His dad had expanded the yard all the way to the beach. Cleaning it up was exhausting.

I spent five years pursuing Jaden Montgomery with every ounce of my strength. After my 100th confession, he finally went from being my best friend's brother to my fiancé. On a night with a full moon, as I stood there in my dress, ready for our mating ceremony, I overheard his conversation with a friend. "Jaden, are you really going to hold a mating ceremony with Arabella?" "Of course. Lillian's a fragile Omega carrying my pup, and my Alpha father is quite displeased about this situation. Holding the ceremony with Arabella will put his mind at ease." Jaden laughed carelessly. "Aren't you worried that Arabella will find out and go after your precious Omega? She's the princess of the Northern Silver Wolf Pack, after all." "She won't. She loves me to death and would never harm my pup. Besides, she's gentle and obedient. Making her my future Luna will ensure my precious Omega stays safe." My mind went blank. In my desperate flight from the scene, I accidentally wandered into a patch of wolfsbane. When I woke up, I remembered every wolf except Jaden. So, when my parents called to tell me to return for the arranged mating, I immediately arranged to leave in five days.

A week before my bonding ceremony, my younger sister traveled from a distant pack to be my maid of honor. While she was trying on her dress, the phone she had left outside suddenly rang. “Florence, can you answer that for me? I can’t get it right now.” I picked it up, and a male werewolf’s voice came through the line. “Baby, I bought you a gorgeous lingerie set. Tonight is going to be amazing.” I didn’t make a sound. A cold chill sliced straight through me. That voice belonged to none other than my mate-to-be, Dylan Conner.

At the pack's festival, a witch hands me a crystal orb that reveals the truth. When I ask "why," she says she was entrusted to deliver it and reminds me only to use it when I am alone. As the image in the orb grows clearer, and my mate appears, I forget how to breathe. "Jared Hamilton, do you love me?" a woman asks in her sweetest voice, curling her arms around his neck. "I do. Of course, I do. You're the only one I'll love for the rest of my life, Luciana." My hand slips. Even after the crystal orb hits the floor, I can still hear them talking. "I swear before the sacred Moon Goddess that I'll be with you, Luciana Rose, until my very last breath. If I ever break this oath, may I never know joy again." I feel suffocated. All I can do is stare in disbelief. The woman he vows to love for life is none other than my very best friend.

Maynard Hansen planned a luxury birthday cruise for Darlene Thompson, but the cruise ship capsized when a violent storm swept in without warning. Without hesitation, Maynard gave the last seat on the lifeboat to Darlene. As I struggled in the water, my son, Waldo Hansen—whom I carried for nine months and gave birth to—cried out, "Don't let Mom up! She'll push Ms. Thompson off." Clutching nothing but a broken plank, I somehow made it to shore. By the time I collapsed on the sand, I was frozen, exhausted, and done. I had never felt so alone. Shortly after, I found myself clutching a diagnosis of severe depression in my hand. I was ready to bring this wretched life to a quiet end. But when my husband and son realized I truly didn't want to live anymore, they collapsed into tears. They wrapped their arms around me as they sobbed, "Please don't leave us. We really can't live without you."

I know that I don't have much time left after getting poisoned by wolfsbane. I don't want to have any regrets, so I travel to the Sacred Crystal Lake, a place I have always wanted to visit. I don't tell anyone that I plan to end my life there. I didn't expect to run into my ex-mate there. We haven't seen each other in ten years. He has become the Alpha that he has always wanted to be, and he's wearing a ring that has another she-wolf's name engraved on it. As for me, I've already thrown away our token of love and erased him from my heart. We're exchanging pleasantries when he suddenly asks, "Do you still hate me, Giselle?" I shake my head. My life is about to end, after all. I don't need to hold on to anything anymore. In the last moments of my life, I just want to see the sea of irises that the Moon Goddess has blessed.

During a company team-building event, I collapse from a seafood allergy. Yet my fiance, Frederick Scott, rushes Beatrice Sutton, who only twisted her ankle, to the hospital. I come close to dying because I don't get treatment in time. Later, Frederick explains, "Beatrice is my best friend's sister. He's seriously ill now, and I promised him I'd take care of his sister. I swear I'll keep my distance from her from now on." This isn't the first time I've heard an excuse like that. On our fifth anniversary, Beatrice accidentally deleted a work file and burst into tears out of worry. When Frederick heard about it, he left me stranded on a mountain and drove back to the office himself. I spent a whole day and night walking home through the rain. On Christmas, Beatrice's house lost power. Frederick was worried that she might be scared of being alone, and he rushed over to her place without even telling me, leaving me out in the snow waiting for him until dawn. These kinds of things have happened countless times. Afterward, he always brushes them off with the same excuse. I've long since lost all faith in him and no longer believe a single word he says. I pick up my phone and call the company that keeps reaching out to me. "I've decided to accept your offer from last time. I'll bring the core technology with me."