Casually Synonym

"Tell me, Barbie…" Dante’s voice was a dark caress, low and sinful as he caged me against the wall. His fingers trailed down my neck, slow and teasing, making my breath hitch. "Are you trying to run from us… or are you waiting for one of us to catch you?" I hated how my body reacted, how warmth curled between my thighs despite the warning bells in my mind. "You’re trembling," Dante murmured, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of my neck. Knox chuckled, his grip tightening. "You’re so soft, Little Moon. So easy to tease. Tell me…" His voice dipped lower, "Are you shaking because you’re afraid… or because you’re turned on?" A small gasp escaped before I could stop it. Adonis’s gaze darkened, his thumb dragging over my bottom lip. "We should punish her for trying to leave," he mused. Dante’s smirk was pure sin. "Oh, I have so many ideas." "We could tie her up," Knox added casually, fingers tracing slow, lazy circles against my hip. "Make her beg for mercy." Three ruthless Alphas. Her step-uncles. Her fated mates. In her past life, Adonis, Knox, and Dante Logan hated her—tormented her, rejected her, and cast her aside. She died knowing they had never loved her. But fate has given her a second chance. Now, she’s running before they realize the truth—that she is their mate. Because once the Logan Brothers find out? They’ll never let her go.

My brother Raymond hated me for seven years. After a bitter fight on a freezing winter night, I stormed out and drove away. I never expected a blizzard to fall so suddenly. It blinded my vision. I was attacked by a rogue, injected with a poison that could erase memories and sever blood bonds. My memories became fragmented. When I woke up in the pack’s infirmary, Raymond stood there with a cold expression and casually pointed at a gravely ill male werewolf lying in bed. “He’s your brother. Stop bothering me.” I was stunned. The male werewolf pushed himself up and took my freezing hand, his eyes gentle.
“Come on. I’ll take you home.” After that, I no longer saw Raymond as my brother—just as he wished. So why was he suddenly begging for my acknowledgement after casting me aside so eagerly?

"No matter the price," I said calmly to the witch across from me, "I will buy the scroll that severs a mate bond." I am Jean Thompson, Luna of the Crescent Pack in name only, and mate—also in name only—to Alpha Felix Frost. In the five years I carried this title, I endured Felix's indifference, my in-laws' scorn, and the pack's cold neglect. All because I loved Felix. I believed, with a devotion that consumed me, that one day my sincerity would move his heart. But on the very day of our fifth anniversary—when I discovered I was carrying twins—I stumbled upon him leading the entire pack of warriors to the airport… to welcome his childhood sweetheart, Mary Lockwood. That moment shattered the last of my hope. When he returned, I hid the bond-severing scroll among a stack of business documents and set it in front of him. "What's this? If it's important, give it to me later—" Before he could finish, Mary's syrup-sweet voice slipped in between us, "Alpha, our reservation is about to begin." Felix didn't even bother to look. He pressed his handprint casually on the scroll, ending five years of our bond. Just like that, our mate bond was severed. But I walked away with more than freedom. I carried with me a secret that could shake the entire pack—two lives growing inside me. Twins, foretold to become kings of the werewolves: the Alpha heirs. Later, in a place far beyond his reach, I gained everything I had once longed for—respect, trust, and love. But Felix came back like a storm I could not escape. His eyes were bloodshot, his body trembling with fury as he trapped me against the wall. "I never agreed to sever our bond," he growled. "Where do you think you're going with my pups?"

At nine months pregnant, I suffered an unexpected miscarriage. My husband, Graham Pearson, fought back his own grief as he comforted me. He would whisper to me every day, trying to soothe my shattered heart, "Whitney, we will have children again someday. Our little angel was here for a while, and next time, we'll make sure we hold onto them..." Under Graham's careful care, I slowly began to pull myself out of the numb fog I'd been trapped in. But then, a month later, I overheard him talking to one of his friends. "If Whitney finds out the baby didn't actually die and that you've let Cassidy raise him, don't you think she'll flip out? You've worked so hard to get where you are; you can't let this mess it all up." Graham casually flicked his cigarette, his voice almost detached as he waved a hand dismissively. "Cassidy can't have kids, but she loves children. If this baby brings her joy, it's a blessing for the child, too. "I might never get the chance to be with Cassidy, but letting her raise my son, in some way, feels like a kind of fulfillment..." The truth hit me like a frozen wave, paralyzing me in place. It turned out this whole ordeal had been part of Graham's plan from the start.

Madam Pratt, my mother-in-law, was in critical condition after a car accident, desperately needing surgery. However, as the lead surgeon, I—Lilianne Davis—stood by, casually scrolling through short videos on my phone. My best friend, Tiffany Owens, who was also a doctor, was far more anxious than I was. She grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the operating room. “Lily, why are you still stalling? Hurry up and save her!” I took a step back, clutching my stomach in pain as her face twisted in shock. “I have cramps so bad I can’t even stand. You do it.” In my last life, the moment I heard about Madam Pratt’s accident, I had swallowed a painkiller and rushed into surgery, working for hours to stabilize her. I had barely stepped away from the operating table when alarms blared. “Lilianne, what have you done? The patient is experiencing acute hemolysis!” “Call the family now!” Gareth Pratt stormed in, his face twisted with rage. He slapped me hard in the face. “Lil, you’re a professional surgeon, yet you gave my mother the wrong blood transfusion?!” I froze, reaching for Madam Pratt’s medical report to explain, only to find that the A-type blood I had seen before had somehow changed to B-type. The medical board arrived, and a blood test revealed traces of hallucinogens in my system. “Unbelievable! Taking illegal substances before surgery? That’s a cardinal sin for a doctor!” In the chaos, Emma Pratt, Gareth’s teenage sister, grabbed a scalpel and stabbed me multiple times. Blood gushed from my arteries, and I collapsed in a pool of crimson. As my vision faded, I couldn’t understand what had happened. I had never taken illegal drugs. Besides, I was absolutely certain of Madam Pratt’s blood type. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the moment right before stepping into the operating room.

After having a crush on someone for 10 years, out of love, my father drugged his friend and placed him on my bed. When he woke at dawn the next morning, his eyes were ice-cold. But he still accept our engagement. However, life after marriage wasn’t as good as I thought. Mike Ashton would frequently fly abroad and stay there for a long time. I gave birth to our daughter on my own as I waited for him to return home. After four years, when I heard that he was returning home, I postponed everything and went to the airport expectantly with our daughter in my arms. Our daughter reached out her little hand and was hoping for a hug from him. He just looked at me indifferently and said in a cold voice, “I’m sorry, but I’m a neat freak.” From then on, my daughter and I would wash our hands at least three times every day and the house would be spotless. However, he still rarely came home and never gave our daughter a warm hug. That was until when I accidentally saw a video with Mike in it. “Mike, what do you think is the happiest thing in the world?” He answered casually, “I think it’s when I tucked Oliver into bed and dragged Jennifer into the bathroom when I was abroad last week.” The people around him all laughed, but my heart felt ice-cold. Jennifer Bundred was Mike’s ex-girlfriend who he still had an entanglement with and Oliver was her son. It seemed that he had been living with them during the time that he was abroad for the past four years. This fact finally made me give up all illusions. I left a divorce agreement for him, gave up my and our daughter’s identities, and went abroad to start a new life.

A dozen years ago, when Sera was adopted by Reggie Blackwood—a wealthy ex-womanizer, she thought that was where her hard life would end. However, when Reggie reveals that he has four secret sons from different mothers, Sera knows it will lead to disaster. What's more, Reggie announces a will full of intrigue: whoever among the four men wins Sera's heart and marries her, will be the main heir to the Blackwood Group. Suddenly, Sera is caught up in an intoxicating game of love. Ace, the domineering ambitious lawyer; Beck, the romantic artist who sees her as a muse; Cal, the compassionate doctor who becomes her protector; and Damon, the mysterious man with a dark past. Tensions between them rise, blurring the line between true love and hidden ambitions. Amid rivalry, passion, and dark secrets, Sera must choose: give her heart to one of the Blackwood Brothers, or escape this dangerous game. But in a world where love and betrayal walk side by side, who can truly be trusted? *** “You're all acting like I'm a precious item that needs to be taken care of,” I protested, glaring at the four of them who probably just took my annoyance as a joke. Ace raised one eyebrow. “Wrong. You're a fire that needs to be tamed” “Or to be played with,” Damon interjected casually, his smile mocking. “Or to be celebrated.” Beck's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. “Or to be kept lit,” Cal finished, his voice low, without taking his eyes off the book he was reading. I clucked in annoyance. They were all incredibly frustrating.

The first thing the fake heiress did when she saw me was imitate me. I loved fishtail dresses. Hence, she immediately bought all the fishtail dresses in the city. I loved roses. Thus, she made the entire rose garden hers. I thought she was only jealous that my family had brought me home. Unexpectedly, my elder brother mistook her for me when he saw her from the back when she was wearing a fishtail dress. He gave me forty-nine lashes as punishment that night. She was carrying roses in her arms when my father saw her cheek and mistook her for me. Then, my father immediately drove me out of the house. Before I could investigate the matter, I died of acute renal failure. After my death, I saw her marry my fiance with my family’s blessing. She made a remark on the night of her wedding. “System, I’ve got to thank you for letting me change people’s memories. As long as others mistake me for her, I can casually change their memories.” Enlightenment gripped me, but it was too late. It did not occur to me that I would return to the moment when she had just purchased the fishtail dresses.

“No one touches what is mine and gets to live,” he replies firmly, sending a cold shiver down my spine. “Alessandro, I am not yours. I am not anyone’s property,” I argue. He laughs softly. “Okay,” he says casually, as if what I said doesn't matter. “I mean it; I will never be yours—not your property, not your plaything, and certainly not your mistress,” I've already made it clear that I won't be his mistress; I don’t know why he can’t seem to accept that. His jaw tightens, then he scoffs. “He threatened you, he touched you,” he says, his eyes narrowing. “It really didn’t matter if the device was his or not; he knew what was coming for him.” In search of her missing father, Renée, a 24 year old boudoir photographer, moves to a new country and makes a deal with the FBI. She helps them bring down the most feared Mafia Don in the country, and they help her find her father. All she has to do is seduce him and get him to lower his guard—easy. Alessandro has been married for three years to the perfect wife, the princess of the East Mafia dome. That kind of marriage makes Alessandro the leader of both the South and the East of the Mafia dome and untouchable, Ruthless. Then one night at a masquerade ball, he meets her, the seductive stranger with a different accent. She looks like the typical type of woman he would make his mistress. But is that enough? Will his world accept a woman like her? It has been a rule for as long as he can remember that certain races can't mix, at least not from where he stands. Plus, he is a married man. Everything about her is forbidden.

A week before the marking ceremony, my fiance, Alpha Mason Wallace, suddenly switches the venue to Firefly Grove. His friends tease him. "You changed the venue just because Serena wants to see fireflies? And you didn't even tell Cora? What if she shows up at an empty site? "Besides, Cora's the one who picked Moonlight Bay. Do you really think she'll go along with this?" Mason says casually, "She burned her skin saving me. She won't fight me over a venue change. Besides, she planned every detail herself. She'll notice the update." I stand outside the doorway, listening in silence. Then, I slip away without a word. When the day finally comes, Mason calls from Firefly Grove, panic in his voice. "The ceremony's about to start. Where are you?" I stare at the shimmer on Moonlight Bay and answer calmly, "I'm already here. My ceremony is about to start too."