Cradled Pronunciation

My twin sister died on her 18th birthday. She died of respiratory failure in a dark corner of a hotel after being raped. Her dearest friend, Joanne Lowe, whom she always cared for and supported, turned around and anonymously spread photos of my sister being raped. I then slowly ruined the face which had so badly wanted to replace my sister with a knife. With blood everywhere, I cradled Joanne's face as if it were a piece of art and said, "My beloved sister is gone, and you people who harmed her won't be let off so easily."

To retrieve the engagement ring my wife shared with her first love, she actually sent our five-year-old daughter into a haunted house alone. Terrified by the bloodstains inside, our daughter accidentally fell down the stairs. A steel rod pierced her stomach, and even in her final moments, she clung tightly to the ring, refusing to let go. I cradled her lifeless body, crying uncontrollably, and called my wife countless times. When she finally answered, she impatiently warned me, "Robert’s daughter is about to undergo heart transplant surgery. Stop causing trouble!" Devastated, I made another call. "Hello, this is Lily's father. I'm sorry, but we can no longer agree to the heart donation." If they were responsible for my daughter's death, they could forget about taking her heart!

I was Brandon Sandler’s most cherished canary—pampered, sheltered, and utterly his for five years. Then came the news of his engagement to another woman. Only then did I realize his affection had been a carefully crafted revenge. He trapped me by his side, flaunting his love for another while subjecting me to relentless humiliation. Eventually, I stopped caring. But the ruthless business tycoon, who once held himself above all, clutched me with red-rimmed eyes, begging me to come home. He said he regretted everything. My hand instinctively cradled my stomach as I glanced at the man behind him. “Darling,” I murmured, “this man is scaring our baby.”

A flash flood swept down from the mountains, causing me to become caught in a car crash. As five steel bars pierced through me, I could feel my blood pouring out in torrents as my life hung by a thread. My husband rushed to the scene. Instead of coming to me, he cradled his true love from the passenger seat and walked away. He didn't even glance in my direction. I was in and out of the ICU three times, clinging to life. Not once did he visit me. His attention was wholly fixed on the girl, who only had a mild concussion. After nearly ten years of deceiving myself, I couldn't keep playing the fool any longer. The day I was discharged, I asked my husband, Dominic Davis, for a divorce. I had survived by sheer luck, and I wasn't about to waste any more time with a husband who didn't love me.

After my elder sister lost her sanity, her engagement with the Crawfords was passed on to me. I joyfully married my long-time sweetheart, only to spend the wedding night alone. Because of this, I became the laughingstock of the capital. Later on, I uncovered my sister’s secret, so she ran me over with her car and dumped my body in the woods. When I opened my eyes again, I realized I had returned to the day when the engagement was swapped. William Crawford cradled my deranged sister in his arms and kissed her fingers affectionately. “No matter what happens to you, you’ll always be my love, Whitney.” This time, I turned and agreed to the marriage proposal of Jonathan Gray, the infamous tycoon with a violent temper and who’s rumored to be impotent. While he asked for my hand in marriage, William cried for me to return to his side.

In my past life, my best friend and I married twins at the same time. We shared secrets, complained about our husbands, and teamed up to outsmart our overbearing mother-in-law—it was truly enjoyable. Until the day I nearly died giving birth to twins. As I lay on the brink of death, my best friend cradled my newborns and revealed the cruel truth. “Thank you, Bianca, for giving me such adorable twins. You had no idea, did you? The twins only ever loved me. If I had the ability to give birth, we wouldn't have used you as a tool to have kids. "You’re poor and have never been loved, so it was far too easy to manipulate you. Even the way your husband loved you? It was all my idea—I planned every move he made. “Oh, and every time you two were intimate, I was watching through the cameras—every single time!" When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day I met my best friend.

Losing her best friend in a fire felt like the worst thing that could happen to Anastasia, but that was before Kasper proposed a marriage. Harboring rage and resentment that seems to grow more than it lessens, makes Kasper cold and unfair to Anastasia, enough to make her tremble in fear whenever he's nearby. Their relationship is so far from normal, and holds so little of the feelings it should that even speaking about it aloud is forbidden. When Anastasia starts to get glimpses of the man that Kasper can be, she falls a little harder. But would it be enough to erase all of the hurt he has dealt her overtime? What happens when Kasper starts to see her in a new light, as the woman she is and deserving of all he is too afraid to give? Would his feelings for each other push aside the bitterness he's cradled for so long or would the bitterness override the best thing he's ever felt?

"With the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife." A tear slid down my cheek on hearing the pronunciation, my life was getting ruined in front of me and there was absolutely nothing that I could do to stop it. "You would regret what you are doing to me, you heartless beast." My eyesight was blurry with the tears that threatened to fall. He cocked his brow to the left, a scoff escaped his lips "Who do you think would regret it the more? Me or you?" I sniffled in the tears, wiping off the tears with the back of my palm. "I would make you experience hell for ruining my life, you monster." All of a sudden, he took me by the chin, jerking my head upright to face him as we both glared at each other "You want to make me experience hell? But you don't even know you are in hell already." "Dear wife, welcome to hell." ******************* In a world where humans and werewolves are enemies, the moon goddess unites two products of vows together. She mates Iris to the remaining white wolf, Dylan. Iris and Dylan develops immense hatred towards each other after they are forced to get married to each other. To the moon goddess, Iris was a sacrifice and she was Dylan's punishment. She was the atonement for his sins, she was his pain and his antidote. What would happen when Dylan finds out that Iris was more than he thought she was? What would happen when Iris holds the cure to his cold-heartedness? What would happen when their hatred develops into love?

Under the Moon Goddess, I was once the happiest Luna of the Black Pack. Alpha Mike cherished me, cradled me in his palms, and bestowed upon me a name and glory. But on that day— I lay on the operating table as he slit open my abdomen himself, offering my liver to his white moonlight, Lina. My husband held Lina’s hand, whispering tenderly in her ear: "Don’t be afraid. Anna’s life is worthless—yours is the one that matters." As the anesthesia wore off, agony seared through me. The doctor gasped: "She’s in her differentiation phase! Forcing the surgery will cripple her for life!" Yet Mike didn’t even glance back, leaving with Lina in his arms: "Just an Omega. Saving you is her privilege." Later, I knelt before the witch Jery, trading all my memories for freedom. When Mike stormed into the shop, roaring at my amnesiac, bubble-blowing self— I shrank into the witch’s arms, trembling: "Sister… who is this madman?" His eyes burned crimson as he tore our contract to shreds.

On the night of our mating ceremony, my mate, Damon, marked another she-wolf right in front of me. He said that if I wanted to be his Luna, I had to accept him having us both. In my past life, I screamed at him, accusing him of defying the Moon Goddess. Pressured by the Elders, he was forced to banish Lyla. She was run down by rogues and fell from a cliff to her death. After that, Damon refused to ever mark me. He even framed me, luring me into the forbidden lands as a pretext to banish me. Then, he hunted me down and killed me himself. I remember my body being picked apart by birds, the agony of it all. But now, I just stared at Damon's cold face, and at the Omega, Lyla, cradled in his arms. Then, I calmly reached up and removed the sacred symbol of our fated bond. "I refuse." And with that, under the shocked gazes of the entire pack, I walked away, heading for the frozen lands of the North. This time, I will make every single wolf who hurt me pay.