Chester Bennington Quotes Novels & Stories

"Ava, you don't have to do this. Come back to the pack." Hayes spoke, catching up to me. He's right. Why am I doing this? I'm his Luna, so why am I fleeing? Tears burning at the back of my eyes, I stare straight into his eyes. "I, Ava Chester, reject you, Hayes Reid, Alpha of Nightshade Pack as my Mate." Immediately the words left my lips, I felt something snap—my heart feeling torn—and my wolf winced. "I—I won't accept this rejection, Ava." He managed to say, amidst deep gasps. Wasn't he the same person who hated me from the very first day he saw me?! I saw pain—and something else I couldn't quite figure out—flash through his features as he bored his eyes into me, as if only realising now how much pain he had caused me. If anyone had told me two months ago that I would one day reject Hayes as my mate, I'd have had the person executed and his head put on a stake. •~. .~• Ava, betrothed to Hayes, is in love with him and has wanted nothing more than finally meeting him. But her fantasies of him had been nothing but that—mere fantasies, as she realises that Hayes wasn't who she had thought him to be. After loosing his mate, and brother to a rogue attack, Hayes is left as the new alpha of the pack without a chance to properly mourn his loss. With the sudden death of his mate, he decides to enclose his heart. As the new alpha, Hayes is faced with the duty of getting a Luna, especially as his betrothed has now reached marriageable age, despite him not wanting it. While still mourning the loss of his first mate, how, then, was he to crown another his Luna?

I had spent my whole life living in the shadow of my sister, Juliana, the woman everyone in the mafia's heir circle adored and protected. She had no idea that I had been reborn. Just like in my previous life, she smiled sweetly and gently, insisting that I pick my fiancé first, pretending to be thoughtful and gracious. However, this time, I refused. In my previous life, I naïvely believed she meant well. I married the man she recommended, Chester Kane, an heir who was said to have been paralyzed after an ambush. I gave up my right to inherit the family, becoming his caretaker, his crutch, the medicine he used to fight loneliness. However, no matter how much warmth I gave him, his heart remained frozen. The truth only came out during my sister's pregnancy celebration. When an assassin from a rival family raised his gun toward her belly, the man who had not stood in years suddenly rose to his feet. He shoved me toward the muzzle of the gun. All seven bullets tore into my womb. As I collapsed, I saw him pull my sister into his arms, shielding her with his own body and taking the final shot for her. Only then did I understand. He had never been paralyzed. His family had never abandoned him. He pretended to be sick because Juliana's heart belonged to another man, and he refused to be tied to me. "I'm sorry, Tania," he said. "I lied to you. However, I couldn't let Juliana lose the heir she's carrying. I'll repay what I owe you in our next life." When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my father asked us to choose our marriage partners. This time, I chose no one. Yet back then, they were the ones who begged for my love.

My father died of esophageal cancer. For the final two years of his life, he could barely swallow anything. By the time he passed, he was nothing but skin and bones. The first New Year after his death, he came to my mother in a dream. "I'm starving," he said. "I just want to taste the thick-cut steak you used to make." My mother believed it without question. That very day, she pan-seared a large platter of steak and carried it to his grave. The next morning, she suffered a sudden heart attack and died on the spot. Devastated, I handled my mother's funeral together with my husband. That same night, my husband dreamed of my father as well. "Chester," he said, "I haven't eaten in so long. I want your pâté, served with some strong liquor." When my husband woke up, he bought the finest liver pâté, opened a bottle of single-malt whiskey, and went straight to the grave. However, not long after returning home, he collapsed from acute liver failure. He was rushed to the ICU and died three days later. I was on the brink of collapse myself. I left my daughter in the care of a close friend while I tried to handle the endless wave of tragedy. That evening, my daughter never came home from school. I searched everywhere, and finally, on the road to the cemetery, I found her. She was clutching a bowl of spicy stew, several grilled sausages floating in the broth. "Mom," she said, "Grandpa and I used to eat this all the time. I dreamed he said he was hungry." I finally lost it. I knocked the bowl from her hands and carried her home. That night, my father appeared in my dream once more. "I suffered so much while alive," he said. "Have some pity on me. "New Year's is coming. I want to come home for a meal. Make sure you cook fish." I woke in terror. Holding my daughter, I sat before the three framed portraits for two full days without eating or drinking. On New Year's morning, I realized she was no longer breathing. Clutched tightly in her hand was a packet of spicy dried salmon. I could not believe it. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my mother, her eyes red with worry, said she was going out to buy steak.