Despair Symbol

Claudia Hepburn had seduced his fiancé, Arthur Maxwell, ninety-nine times. However, he was still into her sister, Fione Hepburn. Not only was he nowhere to be seen on the day of the wedding, but he even went ahead and registered his wedding with Fione instead. Claudia was turned into a laughingstock after that. While she was drowning in despair, Arthur’s brother, Brett Maxwell, showed up and took her into his arms. He confessed that he had been secretly in love with her for ages and beckoned her to turn to him. Enchanted by his devotion, she decided to marry him instead. Even after five years of marriage, Brett still doted on her endlessly. That was until a shipwreck took him away. On the day of the funeral, she was so heartbroken that she felt the urge to smash her head against his coffin to end it all right there. It was only when she found she was pregnant that she gave up on the idea of ending it all. She decided she would live on and grieve her late husband for the rest of her life. Just when she was expecting the rest of her life to play out that way, she happened to eavesdrop on a conversation between her ex-fiancé and his friends. “Brett, your brother was the one who died in that shipwreck, but here you are pretending to be him. Did you do it so you could be together with his wife? Aren’t you worried about someone finding out about this?” “I can't be bothered to worry about all that now, I’ve loved Fione from the beginning. I had to endure so much humiliation and marry Claudia just so I could prevent her from ruining Fione’s happiness. Now that God has given me such a perfect chance, I will not sell myself short anymore!”

As my due date approached, a massive discrepancy surfaced in the Galante family's arms accounts. The leadership made a swift decision. They sent me, Sophia Vitale, the Don's wife, the woman everyone claimed had nothing better to do, to personally inspect the armory and verify the inventory. I believed it was a routine check. I never imagined my husband's godsister, Monica Leone, would use it as cover to blow up the entire armory. The explosion was deafening. Fire ripped through the sky. Concrete collapsed around me, crushing my body as a searing pain tore through my abdomen. I did not call my husband on his highest-priority private line. Instead, I sent a distress signal to my father. In my previous life, the moment the explosion occurred, I had used that same priority channel to call my husband. The child had survived. Monica had been obliterated in the blast. My husband had claimed he did not blame me. He had said Monica was an outsider and that an heir mattered more. He had spared no expense, hiring elite obstetric specialists to monitor me day and night. He had told me to stay calm and wait for delivery. Then, on the day I went into labor, he personally locked me and the baby inside an abandoned warehouse drenched in gasoline and burned us alive. "If you hadn't deliberately delayed, she wouldn't have died. Do you really think playing the innocent victim could fool me? Dream on," he said. "You like playing with fire so much? Fine. I'll let you experience her despair yourself." When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the armory, at the exact moment of the explosion.

After my best friend, Penny Hallmark, found herself a wealthy man, she suddenly became a different person. I had done nothing more than glance at her husband, Martin Rembrandt, yet she slapped me hard across the face. “I treated you as my closest friend, but you dared seduce Martin right in front of me. He’s Chris’s brother! Have you no shame at all?” Her accusation brought tears to my eyes, but Penny resorted to locking me inside a reservoir. “What are you playing at anyway? Fine. Let me give you something to really cry about!” I nearly drowned, and she uploaded photos of me soaked to the skin, claiming online that I was behaving indecently. I became the target of cyberbullying, my boyfriend, Christopher Rembrandt, proposed a breakup, and in utter despair, I decided to end my life. Yet my best friend mocked me coldly. “Do you really think I don’t know your little tricks? You’re just pretending to be pitiful to gain sympathy, aren’t you? “That won’t do at all, Rose. Let me give you a hand!” She pulled out my breathing tube, and only when my life completely slipped away did she smile in satisfaction. “Good. Now I can enjoy both Chris and Martin’s affection.” When I opened my eyes again, I had transmigrated into the body of Chris’s mother, who had just passed away. Given a second chance at life, I was determined to make Penny pay. After all, the man she loved most was nothing more than a hopeless mama’s boy.

“Paint me.” She said and immediately he looked up, his pupils dilated and he froze. “W..what.. you.” he stuttered, stumbling over his words despite his bear sized build and rough looks. “Why professor? You said you needed a muse, you didn't say you needed a dressed one.” She muttered, her lips curving into a smirk and then as his eyes raked over her naked body, she began to trace the contours of her shape. Slowly, her hand slid downwards massaging, caressing and working her body and then it finally stopped right between her legs. As she made to speak, the door slammed open and she watched two other hulking figures saunter in, their shoulders trembling. In their eyes, she saw anger, possessiveness and lust that made her both hot and scared at the same time. *** Christiana is in no way what one would call a saint. She was the brattiest and craziest firecracker. So when one of the features of her fantasy makes an appearance, you cannot expect that she would not want to live out her fantasies. Especially when suddenly she has to live in the same house as the man of her fantasies. Christiana had three problems. One, her parents were suddenly involved in an accident, leaving her in both despair and debt. Two, Her father's closest friend suddenly asked her to move in with him. Three, Her father's best friend is in fact none other than the star in her fantasies. As if that's not enough, she also has to tackle two hockey brothers who would do anything to claim her as theirs. Maybe, her problem is more than three. Fuck that, three is the right number. Three hot men who make her body burn like never before. What will Christiana do?

I ripped his claws from my shoulders and pinned his arms above his head. He thrashed under me, his eyes flashing with something deeper than anger. That was when I sensed it. The sweet scent of cinnamon—the smell of a wolf’s arousal. We froze, our bodies pressed together, so close I could feel the tremors of his heart against mine. That wasn’t all….I felt his hardness, bulging and aching with need. “Don’t look at me.” He turned away, squeezing his eyes shut as his cheeks tinted pink with shame. “I give up, so just kill me already, I can’t take it anymore.” I swallowed hard, faltering yet again. But instead of recoiling, instead of mocking him, I crashed my lips against his. **** Darius Lane lost everything for the sake of love and freedom. Once a renowned Alpha betrothed to the princess of Fenrir, he was stripped of his title and dignity after he chose the man he loved over a Royal decree—the same man who betrayed and left him to bear the brunt of his actions. Out of despair, the young princess had taken her own life and Darius was condemned for murder, thrown at the mercy of Prince Kael, the ruthless tyrant who reduced him to less than a slave. But when Kael moves to end his life, the unthinkable happens. A mate bond sparks between them, turning the tides. The tyrant prince faltered for the first time in his life, unable to believe he was tied to his sister’s killer. And a man at that! It is a prison of desire for Darius, for he began to crave the cruel prince who takes pleasure in his suffering. Against their will, their wolves yearn for each other, and hatred soon blurs into obsession.

The day before my wedding, I went to our cathedral early to get familiar with the place. Instead, I found my fiancé and my stepsister, Isabella fucking on the altar. Our altar. I caught them. He didn't even apologize and just threw me out into the storm. I collapsed in the pouring rain. That’s when he found me. Alistair, the Vampire Prince. He moved like a god through the storm. He pulled me from the mud, and gave me a palace. He told the world I was his soulmate. The one he’d spent centuries searching for. His one and only. For five years, his devotion made me the envy of the supernatural world. I thought I was the one exception in his eternal life. Until I found his secret room. My fingers brushed against an ancient scroll. The script was written in blood. The first line was her name: Isabella. Beneath it, in Alistair's own hand: “Absolute priority. Above all else.” Underneath was a healer's log I’d never seen before. A vampire's healing log. The date was from the night I found out I was pregnant. The night I was attacked by werewolves. They brought me back to the castle, covered in blood. The healers never came for me. I woke up alone. The baby was gone. Our child. His blood, my blood—gone. And my clothes were soaked in what was left of it. I cleaned every trace of it. When he came home, I broke down in his arms. I never told him. I couldn’t bear for him to feel the pain I felt. Now I understood. That same night, Isabella was also being attacked by werewolves. And Alistair’s order to his council was: “Send every healer. Isabella is the priority.” My heart stopped. Despair was a poison in my veins. “If I was never the one... then you can keep your eternity. I want no part of it.”

The night my sister died during a failed emergency procedure, a gang of thugs stopped the car that was taking me to the funeral home. They desecrated her body right in front of me, then beat me until every bone in my body felt shattered and the tendons in my hands were severed. The next day, the news that my hands were ruined and I would never be able to operate again made the headlines. Because of that, my fiancée of eight years, Sandra Walker, broke off our engagement. The very next day, she left for an overseas medical conference with the man she had always loved. When I was on the verge of collapse, Sandra's aunt, Magnolia Walker, set off fireworks for me and announced our wedding to the entire city. "Kayden Foster, I've loved you for so long. Now, I can finally stand by your side. In this life, you're the only man I want to marry!" In that endless despair, I clung to her as my only lifeline. On our wedding day, after I came back from paying my respects to my sister, I accidentally overheard Magnolia talking to her assistant, Robin Myers. "Dr. Walker, for your niece Sandy to be able to marry Quinton Kerr, I arranged for an intern to operate on Kayden's sister, hired people to cripple him, and had his sister's body violated. The police are still investigating, and I'm starting to get a little nervous. Isn't this too cruel?" After a brief silence, Magnolia spoke in a tired voice. "What choice did I have? Kayden was too proud. If I hadn't removed the sister he depended on and ruined both his hands, how could I make him fall apart? How else could I have made him break things off with Sandy without anyone suspecting a thing? "Quin and I were never meant to be in this life. As long as he's happy, that's enough..."

My son, Tim, was kidnapped by a group of rogues. My husband, Alpha Kieran, spared no effort, using every resource at his disposal to find him. Finally, he tracked him down to an pub training center nearby. But when Tim regained consciousness, he discovered that he was disabled. As the only son of Kieran, destined to inherit his father’s title, he couldn’t bear the reality of his condition. Despair consumed him, and in his grief, he attempted to take his own life by drowning himself in the lake within our territory. I arrived too late. By the time I pulled him from the water, my strength was nearly gone. Kieran rushed me to the pack hospital, holding me close as he whispered into my ear, "Please, Selene, stay with me. I cannot lose you too." But after my surgery, as I lay in bed, I overheard Kieran speaking to his Beta, Damon, in the hallway. "Alpha, sacrificing the rescue mission that could have saved Tim seemed… excessive. Finding another heart donor wouldn’t have been impossible. Using Tim’s—he was your only son with Luna Selene." "I allowed him to be born because I knew he could save my daughter. I’ve already raised him long enough. It’s only right that he gives me what I need now." "And the doctor said siblings have a better chance of surviving heart transplants. Ana is my most precious child—I won’t risk her suffering another heart attack." Kieran’s words shattered me. He was my fated mate, the love of my life. Yet he had sacrificed our son—our son—to save the bastard child he had with his mistress. The marriage I once cherished, the fated mate I once believed in, had now become my own personal hell.

After I became pregnant, my figure changed, and my face grew puffy. My fiancé began to treat me with a subtle, almost imperceptible sense of disdain. When the baby was five months along, it happened to be Valentine's Day. That day, he finally agreed to take our wedding photos, something I'd been hoping for. But just as we arrived at the bridal studio, his phone rang. "Mike, I just got back to the country. My friends are hosting a gathering, and everyone's bringing their boyfriends. Could you come and pretend to be mine?" It was a few short sentences, yet it completely altered the expression on his face. He turned abruptly, stepping out of the studio with a look of urgency. "Lucy's back. I have to go see her," he said. Hearing those words, a fire of rage ignited inside me, one I couldn't suppress. "For her? You're going to leave me here alone?" I demanded. "Do you even know how long I've been looking forward to today? It's Valentine's Day, and instead of staying with me, you're going to be with her?" His impatience flared visibly as I stood my ground. Without a word, his hand pushed me aside, and he strode out of the shop. "We can take wedding photos any day. I'm the only one Lucy has in this country. I have to go see her," he said. Then, gripping my wrist with alarming force, he shoved me, sending me sprawling to the floor. Without a backward glance, he got into his car and drove off. I felt a sudden, wet heat flowing from my lower abdomen. Pain surged through my stomach, sharp and unbearable, as my consciousness started to fade. A wave of despair and terror consumed me. Someone. Anyone. Please save my baby.

When Elowen learned that she had been switched at birth, that her life as a princess was nothing more than a mistake, she quietly accepted her fate. She accepted being treated as an error. Accepted being hurt so deeply that even crying had to be done in secret. She believed she would fade away like this — silently, unnoticed, forgotten. Until one day — when despair pushed her to the edge — she felt a faint chill, as if someone were standing behind her, protecting her without a word. From that moment on, Elowen knew she was no longer alone. — Adrian survived a horrific car accident. His body lay motionless in a hospital bed, while his soul became bound to a wounded girl he had never known. He couldn’t hold her. Couldn’t shield her from harm. Yet when she was starved, warm food appeared in her drawer. When she was bullied, her tormentors met with inexplicable accidents. When she curled up crying in the dead of night, an invisible hand gently rested on her forehead—so tender it hurt. Adrian was there. Quieter than any living person. He witnessed every wound, remembered every tear, every trembling breath she tried to suppress. Affection grew in silence—slowly, carefully—as if one careless step closer would cause the girl to shatter. One was alive, yet denied a life. One was dead, yet still learning how to protect someone. Some forms of protection need no light. Some kinds of love cannot be touched. — Then one day, Elowen spoke seriously to her “Ms. Ghost”: Elowen: “Ms. Ghost, if you’re lonely…” “Maybe you could bond with a male ghost.” “I’d give you my blessing.” Adrian: … Then the “Ms. Ghost” coldly placed a hand on her forehead. Adrian: “Call me Mr. Ghost.”