Burned

Two pink lines on a pregnancy test. I was going to surprise my husband, Vince, the Moretti family heir. Instead, the surprise was on me. A pair of black lace panties—not mine—left in his car. The air reeked of cheap perfume and betrayal. I stormed his casino, demanding answers. But I found her in his private suite. Sophia. She smirked, looking me up and down. “You must be the wife. I’ve seen your picture on the nightstand. Vince says you’re a boring little nun. Says he can’t even get hard looking at you.” I snapped. My hand shaking, I hurled a glass of red wine in her face. She shrieked, stumbled back, and crashed into a glass cabinet. Blood bloomed across the carpet. Vince burst in and slapped me so hard I hit the floor. "Are you insane?! She's carrying my heir!" My heart shattered. As I fell, a darker pool of blood spread beneath me. Our baby. I was miscarrying. And when forced to choose between his wife and his whore, Vince chose her. He forgot who put him on his throne. I’m not some trophy wife he can discard. I am a DeLuca. A princess of the underworld. So for revenge, I married his worst enemy, Dante Costello. And when we burned his empire to the ground, Vince finally broke. He got on his knees and begged me to come back.

In Death of Vampires, (Book 2 of Blood of The Chosen One) and a sequel to Resurrection of Vampires, Amber Willow travels back in time while on her death bed, revisiting her past life as Kyra Blackburn and living in that moment. There, she is just a five-year-old daughter of Caitlin Blackburn, the daughter of the lineage of the Blackburn Coven. Caitlin Blackburn; a great warrior chooses to cut off her lineage and lay low in a small peaceful town, Cinderville, all because she wants to protect her daughter as she has been Chosen. But even as she tries to live and blend with the townspeople, they won’t stop at nothing to make her and her daughter look bad in the eyes of other people whenever they see them, and on a fateful day, they pronounced her a witch and burned her in the eyes of all the townspeople. Kneeling amongst her mother’s scattered ashes, Kyra vowed to avenge her mother’s death and the once peaceful town soon became a living hell for the people. That was before she later found out about other covens and how they were all after her life because she is the one sent to bring an end to their immortality in order to save humanity. Now, she was caught between saving the kind who killed her mother and giving redemption to her kind to live amongst humans and be like them. NOTE: Please read the first book (Blood of The Chosen One: Ressurection of Vampires) to better understand the book. Or you can start from this second book since it is starting from the beginning but make sure to read the first one after.

In my past life, I was a rare treasure: the only she-wolf capable of bearing a pureblood werewolf heir. That singular gift made me a prize, claimed by Leon, the Alpha of the formidable Silvermoon Pack in North America. Leon's ambition burned with the desire for a child. A pureblood heir, he believed, would secure his ascension to President Alpha—the supreme leader of all North American Lycan packs. But fate, as it often does, twisted his expectations. After ten long months, I birthed a pup with gray fur and gray eyes which was different to the golden-marked purebloods. By all standards, a low-ranking wolf. Simultaneously, my sister Eve, wedded to the rival Seurin Pack, delivered a golden-furred, golden-eyed pureblood. Leon's dream of becoming President Alpha shattered in an instant. From that moment, he harbored a strong hatred for me and my pup. He forced wolfsbane down our throats and ended our lives with a silver blade in a cold merciless way. Only in my dying breath did the horrifying truth reveal itself: my own sister had stolen my gift—the ability to bear purebloods—using dark magic, claiming it as her own. Now, I am reborn. I find myself reliving the day Leon and Seurin arrived to propose marriage. Just as before, Leon chose my sister Eve without hesitation. I saw it in his eyes—he remembers everything. He, too, has been reborn. But this time, I possess the knowledge. Without me, he will never father a pup—not pureblood, not even half-blood. Not even a mutt.

My mother was asking me and my sister to choose the man we wanted to marry. My sister, surprisingly, did not choose the gloomy STEM student she spent four years pursuing. Instead, she went for the rich but infamous playboy. Shock colored my mother's face. "I know he's rich, Joan, but what if you get all known and unknown STDs? I thought you loved Gil. Are you sure you're making the right choice?" That did not sway my sister's mind. That alone told me what I had been suspecting all along. Like me, my sister was reincarnated. In our previous lives, she happily married Gilbert Terrason, but he left her on read for ten long years. His cold treatment drove her a little gaga. That playboy, however, stopped his philandering lifestyle for me and loved me like his life depended on it. He gave me all his riches, and we became the model couple everyone wouldn't stop talking about. Then, it happened during the ball. On my tenth wedding anniversary, my sister, consumed by rage, burned us into cinders. Here we were, on our second chance in life. This time, I took Gilbert's hand. "No takebacks, Joan. Don't try to do a third take." My sister snickered. "As to you. This time, all the love in the world is coming to me." Ah, yes, love. Joan still did not get it. Love was the most unreliable element in any marriage.

The day I went into labor with the twins, I bribed the family doctor to shoot me up with every heavy-duty suppressant he could get his hands on. Anything to stall the birth. Why? Because in my last life, Vincent—my husband, the Don—claimed to have a low sperm count. To guarantee an heir, he lined up ten mistresses and told the whole house: whoever popped out a son first, her kid would be the next Corleone Don. He promised if I delivered first, he'd ditch the others. Said our baby would inherit the throne. I bought every word. When I found out I was carrying twins, I couldn't stop shaking—I thought I'd won. But after I gave birth, he tossed me and the babies into the freezing wine cellar and locked the place down. "Lucy came from nothing. I just wanted to give her kid a name. You started rumors, pushed her into despair, and now she's dead—her and the baby. You're vile. Not fit to be the Don's wife. Think about what you've done. I'll open the door in three days." Then he had the butler seal it shut. What he didn't know? That night, the cellar caught fire. Me and my babies? Burned alive. When I opened my eyes again, I was back—right before labor. This time, I'm not staying. Soon as I deliver and get back on my feet, I'm taking my kids and disappearing for good.

Three days before my wedding, I found out that Shane Dawson had changed the venue from Grandma Mae’s home in the South to Castillo de Sol, the Spanish castle that Tania Collins, his childhood sweetheart, adored. I confronted him, only to overhear him complaining to his friend, "Thank God Tania has taste. Otherwise, I’d be laughed at for life." His friend reminded him, "Didn’t you promise her you’d hold the ceremony at her grandmother’s house? Aren’t you afraid she’ll get angry and refuse to marry you?" Shane just laughed, sharp and dismissive. "The Quinns are on the verge of bankruptcy. Marrying me is her only way out. She can’t afford to gamble. I’ve already asked the planner to call her. She’s probably scrambling to change her flight right now." Anger and humiliation burned in my chest. I bit down on my lip and, in the end, turned away. Three days later, the castle wedding went on as scheduled, but I didn’t reschedule my flight. I didn’t show up. Instead, I stood in Grandma Mae’s old courtyard and exchanged rings with another man. To this day, Shane doesn’t understand. I never married him for some so-called escape route. I married him for a love that lasted ten years. However, once the dream was over, it was time for me to choose a different path.

To take care of my paralyzed mother-in-law, I quit my job and spent three years as a full-time househusband. That day, after cleaning up her waste, I hid in the bathroom with a cigarette between my fingers and came across a post on my wife’s boss’ Instagram. [You’re meant to be with me in the end. Since that freeloader can’t give you happiness, let me take you to the paradise of Maldev.] Above the caption were two plane tickets. Someone commented below. [That homemaker husband of hers is definitely clinging onto her. After all, she’s his meal ticket.] The boss replied. [Don’t worry. Tonight she’ll go home and come clean. She’ll say the company was caught falsifying accounts and is facing massive fines, and that she might need to serve jail time. [To keep that guy from getting dragged into it, the only option is divorce. He’s as timid as a mouse and will take any chance to flee.] I stared at the screen, stunned, until the cigarette burned my fingers. Ten minutes later, my wife rushed home, panic written all over her face. She dropped her bag on the floor. “Honey, something’s gone wrong with the company’s finances. They’re accusing us of falsifying accounts. I was solely responsible for the accounts. I might need to serve 10 years in prison, plus fines of more than ten thousand dollars. “We need to sign the papers before they seize our house. I don’t want to drag you and mom into this.”

I have spent ten years fighting against the fake heiress, Cynthia Powell, to secure the Powell family's inheritance. Eventually, we both set our sights on the eldest son of the wealthy Wright family, Robin Wright. In my first life, I secure the marriage, but on the very night the shares are transferred to my name, I die a gruesome death. Blood seeps from my eyes and mouth as I collapse. As I lie there dying, Robin calmly wipes the poisonous powder from his fingertips and smiles at me. "My apologies, Kathy Powell. You have to die for the sake of the woman I truly love." I repeatedly curse Cynthia in my heart. In my second life, I am determined to avoid being murdered by Cynthia and her lover. So, I pass the marriage opportunity over to Cynthia. On their wedding day, I'm relaxing at home with a face mask when the police burst through my door and handcuff me. "Cynthia's car was firebombed on the way to the wedding ceremony, and she was burned to a crisp. We found your fingerprints on the fuel tank. You're under arrest for arson and murder. Please come with us," the police orders. The news shocks me. I'm sentenced to death, all thanks to Robin's manipulation. When I wake up, I'm in my third life. After seeing the Wright family's marriage proposal on the table, Cynthia and I take a step back. A chill runs down both our spines. Robin is a curse. How is it that whoever marries him ends up dead?

“ Do you think it's weird that my body yearns for you? ” Natalia whispered out in a trance, her lips only inches apart from Romeo's plump ones. “ You killed my father, married my mother, and took away my pack. Wanting you should be disgusting for me. ” She smiled sadly as her body burned with the desire to touch him, be near him, to feel the sparks only he was capable of making her feel. “ Before everything, we are mates. You will never be able to deny the connection. If you want, reject me and die with me, Rabbit. ” He slurred and smirked at Natalia lazily, knowing that she would never be able to reject him. The rejection meant death for both of them and the separation meant yearning. "Let the desires win, Natalia." He purred huskily and all she could do was give in to him. "Yearning and desire collide in this forbidden love story between Natalia and Romeo, the Alpha of the Regal Pack. With a troubled past and a thirst for revenge, Natalia sets out to take down the man who killed her father and married her mother. But as she gets closer to him, she realizes that their connection is stronger than she could have ever imagined. Despite the obstacles in their way, including Romeo's reputation as a ruthless and dangerous Alpha, Natalia and Romeo are drawn to each other like moths to a flame. With the stakes high and the consequences dire, Natalia must decide if giving in to her desires is worth the risk. Will they succumb to their fate as true ill-fated mates or will they be torn apart by the forces against them?"

I spent five years taking the blame for a truth that could have destroyed my Alpha. In Blackthorn Pack, everyone mocked me as the wolfless Omega who couldn’t bear an heir. They said I was unfit to be Luna. They said Adrian Hale should cast me aside for a stronger woman. What none of them knew was that Adrian was the infertile one. I burned the report myself and let the whole pack shame me for his weakness. I gave up my studies, my pride, and everything I loved to protect him. Then his mistress got pregnant. And I heard the truth with my own ears. “She has no wolf, no pack, no one to stand up for her. Even if she makes a scene, the Elders’ Council won’t take her side.” That was the moment I understood. For power, for bloodline, for status, Adrian had already chosen Lydia Ashcroft, the Alpha’s daughter carrying a child he couldn’t possibly have fathered. So I severed our mate bond. I took nothing from him except the look on his face when he opened the medical report I left behind. Patient: Adrian Hale. Diagnosis: congenital azoospermia. Infertile. What Adrian never knew was that I was never wolfless. I was the lost daughter of a Lycan King. And in my bloodline, a wolf does not awaken until her family calls her home. The one who could never have children was never me. It was the man who begged the world to believe otherwise.