Devotion Mga Nobela at Kwento

For three years, Eleanor Newton believed she had found her happily ever after. When she rejected an arranged mating and abandoned her powerful birthright, she did it for love. She chose Alpha Owen Belmont over the future her family had planned for her. She believed love would be enough. She was wrong. As Luna of the Belmont Pack, Eleanor slowly finds herself becoming an outsider in her own marriage. Everywhere she turns stands Susana Howell—Owen's lifelong female best friend. Susana attends private meetings. Susana accompanies them on trips. Susana has access to Owen at all hours. Susana always seems to come first. Every time Eleanor voices her concerns, she is made to feel unreasonable. But unknown to Eleanor, Owen's devotion to Susana stems Years ago, Susana's mother died protecting him during a rogue attack. The guilt never left him. Since that day, Owen has dedicated himself to protecting Susana, believing it is a debt he can never repay. What begins as loyalty slowly evolves into a toxic dependency that neither Owen nor Susana is willing to acknowledge. Over the years, Eleanor becomes trapped in a marriage where she is constantly competing with a ghost and a promise. Then everything changes. After years of humiliation, she catches Owen and Susana in a compromising situation that destroys the last remnants of trust between them. For the first time, Eleanor stops fighting for her marriage. Instead, she walks away. She returns to the powerful family she once abandoned and accepts the arranged mating she fled years ago. On the night Eleanor had fled her ancestral home to escape the arranged mating, Thaneus Del Caspian, Alpha of the feared Del Caspian pack, had watched her with inscrutable eyes. "Ellie," he had promised, his voice low and dangerous, "someday you'll return to my side willingly."

"What am I to you? A trash picker?" I asked him sarcastically, looking at him from head to toe in disdain. "Lauren." he growled, clenching his fists tightly, glaring at me in disbelief. "Yeah, I know this is my name. You don't need to remind me, and please don't pop up in front of me like an unwanted ad in the middle of an interesting scene. You irritate me the most in this way." I scolded him, still with an ugly expression in disgust on my face. "So, now I disgust you, huh? Why didn't you disgust before when I." "Because I was a fool back then. I assumed a filthy rock as a gem and paid a heavy price for that." Before he could complete his sentence, I interrupted him, scolding him in a loud voice. His already widened angry eyes widened more in shock this time. I took a step forward while locking my gaze with him. "A scum like you who used me when he needed me and then slapped the divorce paper doesn't deserve even a glance from me, Gabriel. Never bother me again, or else what I will do to you, you can't even think about that." "Hey, babe. Why are you here?" I beamed when I heard his magnetic voice calling me from behind. I immediately moved towards him when Gabriel held my wrist. "You are making a mistake, Lauren," he warned me in a stiff voice. I yanked my hand from his grip and threw a disgusting gaze on him before walking towards the boy who treated me like a treasure. Gabriel’s devotion to his first love made me realize that loving myself is the only thing that can make me happy forever. I grabbed Vincent's arm with a beaming smile.

The day my husband, Stellan Montclair, was killed in battle, my cousin, Daphne Langford, wept and declared she would follow him in death. No one asked for my opinion. By the time I arrived, they had already decided everything. In seven days, Daphne would be laid to rest alongside my husband in the Montclair family crypt, bearing the title of his lawful wife. When I stepped into the chapel, I found Daphne reclining on a cushioned chair with a damp cloth pressed to her forehead while my mother-in-law, Vivienne Prescott, personally spoon-fed her warm broth. Meanwhile, my son, Ansel Montclair, had been kneeling before the coffin for six hours straight, both legs so swollen that they were trembling. No one told him to get up. No one offered him a cushion to kneel on. Vivienne glanced up at me. "You're back. Daphne's being interred in the Montclair crypt as the lawful wife in seven days. See to the arrangements." In my previous life, I did not dare disobey. The entire capital praised Daphne for the depth of her devotion. Vivienne called her a woman of honor. The moment I so much as furrowed my brow, countless mouths stood ready to call me petty and small-hearted. Yet seven days later, Stellan came back from the dead. Only then did I learn that he had taken a death-feigning potion so that he could openly and rightfully marry Daphne. I was cast from wife to concubine and spent the rest of my life crushed under Daphne's thumb. My son was stripped of his status as the legitimate heir, barred from the family title, and left to scrape by among commoners for the rest of his days. This time, though, I was living it all over again. I crouched down and lifted Ansel from the cold stone floor. Then, I looked at Vivienne. "If her devotion runs that deep, let her be buried with him today."

Everyone knew Elio Carbone, Don of the Carbone family, was a cold-hearted womanizer. He had one rule: never sleep with the same woman twice. But for me, he broke it. The first day after our breakup, he stood outside the old Bianchi estate for a day and a night, his entire security detail in tow, just to win me back. The second day, he flew to Sicily and bought the deed to my family's ancestral estate at auction for triple its value, and had it delivered to me. The third day, he tattooed my favorite flower, the lily, over his heart. The tattoo artist said he refused any anesthetic and didn't make a sound. Later, at a banquet for the Five Families, in front of all the other Dons, he sliced his palm and made a blood oath. He swore loyalty only to Eleonora Bianchi for the rest of his life; if he broke his vow, he would pay with his life. After a year of his relentless pursuit, his devotion finally wore me down, and I agreed to take him back. I truly believed him then. That Elio truly loved me. Until one night. He took me to an underground racetrack to broker a deal with an ally. But in the roaring crowd, I saw a girl, trembling and crying, her clothes in tatters. Ava was shoved to the starting line. She was the wager for the death race. One look was all it took for Elio's face to darken. The next second, he dropped his hand from my waist and, without a word, walked toward the track entrance. I stood frozen, watching his back as he disappeared into the driver's seat of a modified sports car. I used to wake up crying, terrified he would lose his life in one of these reckless races. He had smashed his trophies, burned his marker for the illegal track, and sworn to God he would never again enter such a life-or-death gamble. My hand drifted to my stomach, covering the secret I hadn't yet had the chance to share. His blood oath was broken. And so was I.