Chill Oc

"Just act like you’re my Luna,” he murmured, his silver-gray eyes piercing through my guarded resolve as he leaned closer, invading my space. “In return, I’ll make the ones who hurt you bend until they break.” His words sent a chill down my spine, their promise as intoxicating as it was terrifying. “What makes you think I’d take help from my worst enemy?” I blurted, forcing myself to meet his gaze despite his towering, domineering presence. Lucian’s lips curved into a smirk, but his voice dropped, dead cold. “Because, girl, we both know revenge doesn’t come from weakness. And you’re far too strong to die in their shadow.” I couldn’t help but chuckle, bitterness lacing the sound. “Whatever you say, Alpha Lucian. I’d be the biggest fool to trust the devil.” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Alina’s world crumbled the day she caught her fated mate, the man she had sacrificed everything for, wrapped in the arms of her cousin. His rejection didn’t just shatter her heart; it destroyed her reputation, leaving her devastated and banished from the pack she once called home. When she was killed, she thought she had lost it all but it was far from it when she woke up to see her savior. Her old enemy –Alpha Lucian Blackwood. Lucian offers her a deal: pretend to be his Luna, and he’ll help her make those who wronged her pay. Desperate for justice, Alina agrees, but as they delve deeper into their dangerous arrangement, the lines between revenge and desire begin to blur. When her former mate begins seeking redemption, can she give up her first love, or will Lucian let her go? What happens when she gets hit with dark truths?

“Ma’am, there’s no marriage record between you and Mr. Mark Henderson in the system.” My fingers tightened around the pregnancy report as my legs nearly gave out beneath me. Five years ago, Mark was recruited by a top law firm abroad with a high-paying offer. Without hesitation, I followed him across the ocean. He had told me, “Once I’m settled, I’ll take care of your status.” However, five years had passed, and my lawful permanent residence was still “in process.” Meanwhile, his assistant, Tonya Irving, who followed him abroad, had secured hers under his sponsorship. Back then, I made a scene, insisting on a divorce so I could return home. For the first time, the ever-composed Mark, an attorney, lost his calm. He grabbed my hand and said, “Tonya’s all alone out here, and it hasn’t been easy for her. Helping her is just the right thing to do. You’re my wife. Your status is only a matter of time. My work is sensitive right now, and I need to avoid any complications. You understand, don’t you?” But I had understood him for five whole years. My phone suddenly rang. Mark’s voice came through, light with laughter. “Tonya’s permanent residence was approved today. We’re celebrating tonight. I need you to get home early and cook up a feast.” I stared at the marriage license in my hand—now nothing more than a worthless piece of paper. A cold chill spread down my spine. As it turned out, I was never his legal wife. I had no legal status and no protection, much less rights secured for the child I was carrying. After hanging up, I scheduled an abortion and booked the earliest flight home. This time, I wouldn’t look back.

Her silky hair was a mess. Her makeup, ruined. Her dress wrinkled like she slept on it. She was there, but her mind, elsewhere. Her eyes went to me. Her lips curled into a lazy smile. In every step she gave, my heart sank thinking she would fall. “What happened to you? Are you okay?” I rushed towards her. Her face twisted with disgust. “Oh, perfect Bella. The golden girl. Always correct. Always the best.” “What…” “Perfect Bella. Has the best grades. She doesn't have to fight to get into college, colleges fight over her.” “Emma, you are drunk.” “Perfect Bella doesn't drink. She is as pure as water. Saint Bella.” Her eyes glinted. “Perfect Bella doesn't sleep with her best friend's husband.” My body froze as a wave of chill ran through my spine. “What… what are you talking about?” She leaned in, her breath thick with alcohol, “Where do you think Marcus is? Why do you think I can barely walk straight? Is it hard to believe he took me and not you to that bad that was supposed to be yours?” My heart clenched. Tears started forming in my eyes. It didn't take long till they gave up to gravity. He… he didn't. We'd promised this morning. He couldn't. “He wouldn't.” ***** It's been a year, but the scars are still there. My past echoing in my head reminding me of everything that happened since that day. Every time I open my eyes in the morning to see... nothing. “You only get hurt by the ones you love the most.” “You only get betrayed by the ones you trust the most.” What happens when these two misbeliefs collide? ***** I hope I wrote this book good enough to make you feel it. Obrigada.☺️

Résumé : La Sirène et le Centaure Depuis des millénaires, un sang noir et salé coule entre les royaumes de la Terre et de la Mer. Les Centaures des plaines brûlent d'une haine viscérale pour les Sirènes des abysses, qu'ils tiennent pour responsables du grand Déluge qui engloutit leurs ancêtres. Une paix froide et fragile, tissée de mépris, est la seule loi qui prévaut. Éliane, princesse sirène promise au terrible Roi des Abysses, étouffe dans sa cage de corail et de devoir. Sa voix, capable d'apaiser les colères de l'océan, est son plus grand pouvoir et sa malédiction. Kaël, roi centaure et gardien des terres sacrées, porte le poids de sa couronne comme une entrave, son cœur de guerrier assoiffé d'une liberté qu'il ne connaît pas. Mais une prophétie ancienne, oubliée de la plupart, rôde : "L'union de l'Écume et du Sabot fera trembler le Trône des Cieux et précipitera les mondes dans le chaos." Leur amour est une étincelle au-dessus d'un baril de poudre. Lorsque leur secret est découvert, la fureur des dieux et de leurs peuples respectifs s'abat sans pitié. La mer se retire, laissant les royaumes sous-marins à sec. La terre se fissure, avalant forêts et troupeaux. Pour empêcher l'anéantissement total, un prix terrible est exigé : Éliane doit sacrifier sa voix magique, et Kaël sa liberté, acceptant des chaînes éternelles. À l'aube, sur une plage devenue le champ de bataille de leurs cœurs, ils se font face une dernière fois. Un baiser, à la fois doux et désespéré, scelle leur destin. Leur amour était-il une malédiction à éviter, ou la seule prophétie capable de sauver deux mondes qui ne savaient plus que se haïr ?

The Bloodfang Pack’s Alpha has declared a grand warrior match. A test of strength, cunning, and dominance. The werewolf who emerges victorious will not only earn the title of champion but will also claim his most beautiful daughter as a mate. But everyone knows this is just a formality. No matter who wins, I should be the one to marry Harken Shadowfang. He and I grew up together, our wolves intertwined by years of shared hunts and whispered promises beneath the full moon. He has always been my destined mate—or so I thought. The match begins, and Harken deliberately loses. I watch as he kneels in the dirt, breathing heavily, his sharp golden eyes flicking toward me with something cruel, something mocking. A chill runs down my spine. Why? Why would he do this? The victor stands tall, his fur still bristling from the heat of battle. Alaric Jaggedmane. A warrior through and through, his aura is heavy with the weight of a true Alpha—something Harken never had. Without hesitation, I step forward, lifting the warrior’s wreath. "Congratulations," I say, my voice steady. "You're now my husband." A furious snarl rips through the air. Harken storms toward me like a rabid beast, his fangs bared, his hands trembling as he snatches the wreath from my grasp. "Why didn't you pick me?" he demands, his voice bordering on madness. I meet his gaze without fear. Because in my past life, I did. I chose him. I thought he loved me. I thought we would be happy. But I was a fool. After my father’s death, Harken locked me away, keeping me weak with silver-laced drugs while he took his true mate, Ravyn Evermoon, to public events at his side. I was nothing but a tool. A stepping stone for his ambitions. A title to secure his rule. It was only then that I learned of his betrayal— of the three children he had already fathered with her. And so now, with this second chance granted to me by the Moon Goddess herself, I do not waver. I will not be Harken’s pawn again.

To afford train tickets home for New Year's Eve, I searched for a part-time job and stumbled into a livestream that was practically throwing money at the chat. A young woman in a silk robe rested her chin on her hand. Behind her, a villa glowed under expensive lighting that reflected off polished marble floors. "Being kept in here is suffocating," she said in a voice that mixed boredom with sweetness. "My sponsor gives me more money than I can spend. Help me out. Take some off my hands." Cash drops flashed across the screen one after another. I tapped as fast as I could, my heart hammering. A few large ones landed in my account. I was close. One more would cover both my ticket and my boyfriend's. The streamer leaned closer to the camera. "He keeps saying my tear mole looks like his girlfriend's," she said, her mouth twisting with disgust. "So unlucky. Of all things, I had to match with some broke girl." My finger slipped. I had a tear mole under my eye in the same spot. The live chat flooded with questions. [How is the sponsor's girlfriend broke?] The streamer gave a short snort and reapplied her lipstick, as if correcting a minor flaw. "He's just messing around. He tricked her into 200,000 dollars in debt. She's so stupid she works multiple jobs to help him pay it off." A chill settled in my chest. My boyfriend also owed 200,000 dollars. She continued, her tone light, "The funniest part? He slept with me for three days. When he left, I asked if he was giving her a taste of honey." She smiled cruelly. "He said all he has to do is claim he's going to work a construction site hauling rebar. The idiot will feel guilty and deliver food all night. So he won't need to please her." Another large cash drop flashed across the screen. The total reached the exact amount I needed. My phone rang. Benjamin's name lit up the display. When I answered, his voice sounded worn down, as if it had scraped against concrete. "Via, we still don't have enough for the tickets," he said. "I hauled rebar and made a little over 40 dollars. I'm heading home now."