Curt Nod

Elena wanted to cry her heart out to whoever would listen, but her heart was dry. She couldn't even find it in her to do anything other than smile, nod politely and recieve the insults and abuse dished out to her. Afterall, she believed that there was nothing she could do. She was above the age of mating and she was still unmated. Each blood moon came and went and the moon goddess in some sort of joke or irony refused to grant her a mate. It wasn't just her lack of a mate, she also couldn't wolf out. No matter how much she tried, it just didn't work. What came to every werewolf so easily ran away from her. Elena felt tired and defeated. Even if she wanted to fight her uncle how would she do it? Physically she was almost the weakest in the pack. Malnutrition had told on her leaving her with extremely pale skin and a skinny body. Sometimes to herself she wondered how she was still alive.

"I'm your first kiss, right?" Damien smirked pinching my chin. "I'm the first to make you moan, right?" David grinned while kissing me. "I'm the first to have your virginity, right?" Dylan traced his hand from my shoulder to the waist. Pulling me away from the three of them, he hugged me tightly with darkened eyes, "I'm your first love, right?" Dominic roared making me nod involuntarily. When did it all start? That one night I wanted to escape from the fate of becoming a breeder but I became a toy to serve in their bed and a spy to survive in their web of deceit, the more I'm closer to them, the more dangers surrounding me but I've no other option, with them or without them, my life is at risk, so why don't I use them to shield me? I knew I'm nothing but a plaything to them, I'm aware that I'll be discarded one day, but I need them, not to survive but for revenge, I waited for them to be bored of me, but rather they're obsessed with me, and strangely, I'm craving for more, will I ever manage to escape from their clutches? Where will this forbidden relationship lead to?

Right after Ethan and I announced our mating ceremony, his childhood sweetheart from the pack, Sophia, came rushing back. And she flat-out demanded I go through a "bloodline trial." "Someone like you, a wolf outcast, you're definitely up to no good. You have to pass this month-long bloodline trial before our pack will accept your mating!" With Ethan basically giving them the nod, Sophia and her pack betas put me through hell. They deliberately messed with my moonlight alchemy circle, almost tore my mind apart. The backlash from the moon energy tortured me until I almost broke. My body felt like it was being ripped to shreds. They contaminated my sacred water potions. The choking fumes nearly suffocated me. The betas were cruel and vicious. "She's just a lone wolf anyway. If she dies, no pack will back her up." Then, Sophia stole the Moon Goddess sacred artifact my grandma left me—the Moon Alchemy Cauldron. She taunted me, all cocky. "If you've got the guts, try summoning the Moon Goddess's power on the blood moon night to take it back! Otherwise, I'll use your family's crappy old cauldron as a chamber pot!" I’ve had enough. I’m so sick of these ‘trials,’ and there’s no way in hell I’m mating with Ethan.

"Please teach me to become a better writer!" "Oh?" Joaquin got his glass sipped his whiskey as he looked at me in a condescending manner. "I need something in return," he teased as he put his glass down on the table, making me nod excitingly. "Yes, yes! I would do anything you ask for!" Hearing her feedback, he stood up from his chair then walked towards me, chuckling. "Erm..." I stepped away from him, now bumping my back on the wall behind me. Surprised, I gasped as he did a breathtakingly hot "kabe-don". He then spoke near my ear, sending shivers down my spine. "What if I ask... for a collaboration?" --- Haven Thorne, a young woman who is eager to become a great writer, secretly attended a party that was hosted by a popular and rich top author, Joaquin Greyson. Wanting to learn from the great writer, Haven gathered her courage and visited his home for consecutive days even after the constant rejections. Irritated, Joaquin entertained the persistent woman to stop her. Seeing her determination however, piqued his interest and had agreed to her request—even asking for a collaboration! Will the top author really be willing to teach the newbie, or will he lose his patience? Will she able to meet the demands of her experienced mentor, or will she disappoint him? With that in mind, what will their pen and passion teach them? Love, hate… or something more?

His sinful hands traveled to her waist as she looked at him; her breath hitched as he traced her belly button “You are so vulnerable right now,” his gaze landed on the gunshot wound on her chest, just between her breasts. The fact that she was not wearing a bra right now was very distracting. Even with the scar she was so beautiful. “So are you,” he whispered keeping the gun in her hands. The heat of their graze did not help with the hot atmosphere of the room; this was deadly. “We can’t deceive both agencies,” her murmur was soft, unlike the sound of his harsh breathing. “We can, we will,” He looked straight into her eyes as her lips trembled. So unlikely of the girl she was. “It's a matter of two countries,” she whispered, her last straw against him, she knew she would give up if he had an answer to this. That she would let go of the lust suffocating her insides after this. “It's a matter of two hearts,” her eyes snapped to his immediately. “I can't seem to forget the little girl who took a bullet for me,” He said as her lips parted in shock. “You… knew?” she could not form more words. He could not find himself to answer anything else than a nod, he was deceiving her in the name of love. ‘Ya Allah, why do I have to do this?’ she asked her god taking her eyes away from him for a second. “It's the matter of two hearts, two bodies, two souls…” and two deceivers, the word they both so wanted to add but couldn’t. “Have me,” He whispered. “Take me,” she obliged In which she deceived him before he could deceive her

Dad attends a banquet with his ex-girlfriend, and they make headlines. Everyone mocks Mom for this, saying that she hasn't gotten anything out of her relationship with Dad. They make fun of her for giving up her successful career for his sake to end up with nothing—she can't even tell a homewrecker off. Mom looks at me tiredly after bawling her eyes out. "He let me down first, so I don't want him anymore. Do you want to leave with me, Rosie?" Just then, my phone pings. I've received a text from my boyfriend of seven years. "I'm just going through the motions and registering my marriage with someone else, Rosalie. You'll still be my girlfriend!" After a brief silence, I nod and tell Mom I'll leave with her. On the day of the double weddings, Mom and I disappear after a fire at our villa.

"Do you remember saying my woman is very lucky?" I nod, unable to find my voice. What is he getting at? He trails a finger down the side of my face, grips my hair and lands a kiss on my lips. "Good. You are the lucky woman. You'll bear my heir, and we'll be a happy couple. Capisce?" "No, Evren. I'll give you your child, take my money, and leave. That was and is the plan." He chuckles. "Will you, baby? Will you?" Liora Wilder made a deal with the devil. Carry his heir, take the money, and walk away. No attachments. No emotions. No illusions. But Evren Valesca doesn't play by anyone's rules but his own. He doesn't negotiate. He doesn't let go. And now that he's claimed her, he has no intention of ever setting her free. Liora refuses to be controlled, but resisting a man like Evren is dangerous. He's ruthless, possessive, and completely unstoppable. Because nobody says no to a Valesca.

I knock on the door, heart pounding like it always does when I’m about to see him. “Come in,” Justin’s voice calls—cool, smooth, and frustratingly calm. I take a deep breath and walk in, holding the folder tightly. “Here’s the report you requested, sir.” He doesn’t even glance at me. Just keeps typing, his expression unreadable. “You’re late,” he says without missing a beat. I clench my jaw. “There was a delay at the printer—” “No excuses, Joanna. Just do better next time.” Ouch. Professional and cold. As always. I nod, ignoring the sting in my chest. “Yes, sir.” I turn to leave, gripping the doorknob—just one more second and I’ll be out of this weird tension-filled office— “Wait.” I freeze. I turn around slowly. “Yes?” Justin stands now, walking toward me. In his hand, a familiar brown paper bag. He holds it out. “You didn’t have lunch.” I blink. “I’m fine.” “You skipped breakfast too. Eat.” I hesitate. “What is it?” “Chicken pesto. No onions.” My breath catches. He still remembers? “Why are you doing this?” I ask quietly. He shrugs, not meeting my eyes. “I just… remember things.” My fingers brush his as I take the bag. Warmth. Stupid warmth that shouldn’t still feel this familiar. Then, he looks at me—really looks at me. “You shouldn’t skip meals… wife.” Silence. My chest tightens. “Don’t call me that.” But my voice is too soft to sound convincing. I walk out before I say something I’ll regret. His words echo in my mind like a dangerous lullaby. Cold one second. Kilig the next. God… he’s still him. And that’s exactly the problem.