Cry Or Better Yet Beg Novels & Stories

especially because she is herself (Authors note: that last line is confusing but I hope you get it 😂😂) "It doesn't matter if you trust me or not" instantly she was done begging "you can't lie, you've be hurt and abused, abandoned and alone. You can't keep living like this, and I won't let you take your life either. At least, before you die he should suffer what you suffered, he needs to pay back every drop of tears and shred even more blood than you did"

“How about you get on your knees and beg out loud?” Without arguing, I got down on my knees. “Please return the contract to me. I am begging you!" I exclaimed, using my mouth. Our foolishness grabbed the attention of many passersby, who shot some mixed looks our way. Becky tapped her foot. “Something is still missing. How about you put your head on the ground and give us the ultimate begging position?” I looked around the busy road. “Becky, people already think we are lunatics, so let’s put a halt here.”

When I noticed several people still staring at me with sympathy and concern, I glared at them. "What are you looking at?" I snapped. They quickly dispersed, scattering like cockroaches when someone flipped on a kitchen light. Once they were gone, I wiped away the remaining tears and allowed a slow smile to spread across my face. Oh, James. All it takes is a few tears and you fall right back under my control. I picked up my phone and dialed another number. The call connected quickly. "I need you to prepare something for me," I said calmly. "Something very powerful. Something that will teach a certain someone a lesson they will never forget."

Desperation. She was begging, not for herself but for another man. And that truth sliced deeper than he was prepared to admit. ‘Why can’t you treat me like that?’ a bitter voice whispered inside him. ‘Why couldn’t you ever look at me the way you’re looking at him now?’ He clenched his fist. “If you’re going to beg,” Bradley said slowly, forcing his voice steady, “do it properly. Loudly.” Eva shook her head violently, sobbing. “Please… stop…”

“How dare you speak to us like that when even a lowly servant has more value than you cursed rogue!?” My head buzzed with dizziness, a stinging pain burning my cheek. I shut my eyes, bearing with it. “Next time, you'll know not to let your filthy mouth run loose.” Beatrice landed another heavy slap. “But there won't be next time, because by evening your corpse will be rotting in the dark forest where rogues are buried!”

I fell to the ground in front of Ethan. He frowned and crouched down, gripping my chin. His eyes were a storm—rage and something else buried deep. "I gave you enough money when we broke off our mate bond," he said, low and cold. "And yet you're out here selling yourself? You enjoy this? Joy, name your price. Whatever you want—just say it, and I'll pay." My heart bled. But I smiled through the pain, eyes full of tears. "Ethan," I said. "I'd rather earn my money dirty than ever beg you again."

Beggar "Beauty look at me please." I spin around and stare at his sullen face, "What do you want Zero?” I sigh, “My name is Beggar, it's not beauty, it's Beggar, okay, I said it was good. We good, we said what we had to say, don't worry about it. How many times are you gonna keep apologizing?" His face crumbles, and I feel that tug as my resolve slides a fraction. "Until I stop feeling like shit."

Then he looked up into my silver eyes, his jaw set like carved obsidian. "You do not need to fight, and you do not need to prove anything to my court," he said, each word spoken with the solemn weight of an eternal oath. "Let them whisper. Let Riverfang celebrate their petty little victory in the mud. While they feast on stolen scraps, you will rest. You will eat, you will grow strong, and you will heal." He leaned closer, his brow gently resting against mine in the quiet dark of the room, his breath warm against my cheek.

Growing up, I always knew my parents' love had limits. As the Alpha and Luna of the Crescent Ridge pack, they were always incredibly busy. At home, my twin brothers, Jaxon and Wyatt, were constantly fighting and competing, desperate to outdo each other. My parents poured every ounce of their energy into them. As for me, whenever I tried to grasp even a sliver of their attention, they would sigh impatiently, "Harper, can't you just be a little more mature?" I used to think that if I were just mature enough, they would love me a little more. Until one dinner, when Mom prepared Jaxon's favorite steak and Wyatt's favorite soup, even serving them on their own personalized tableware. When i

Why are we even here? "Because my friend is having a baby and I'm buying gifts and you said you'd come with me." "I said I'd drive you. That's not the same as shopping." "Well, you're here now, so you might as well help. What do you think, yellow or white?" "I don't care." "Darryn—" "I don't care, Hera. Pick whichever one. They're both fine. They're all fine. It's all—" he stopped. Then Hera's voice, quieter now. "All what?"