Echoed In Tagalog

"I, Grant Dixon, soon to be Alpha of the Rivermoon Pack, reject you, Astraia, as my mate." The words that shattered Astraia’s world, spoken with cold finality by the man she had loved her entire life, echoed through her heart like a death knell. Far from the pain of rejection, she takes refuge at Stellar University, a neutral zone where both werewolves and humans coexist. But fate has other plans. Astraia’s world collides with Carson, the broody, guarded Alpha of High Crest Pack—the most powerful pack, second only to the royal family. He carries the same scars as she does, a broken past marked by rejection. Will their shared pain draw them together, or will the past continue to haunt them? Astraia must decide if she will embrace her future or let her past control her. And Carson—will he continue to hide from the future that fate has in store, or will he finally allow himself to heal?

"Ashley, look at me!" The deep growl of his voice echoed through the forest as he clutched her with his sharp claws. Slowly, she raised her gaze, meeting the intense stare of his red, glowing eyes that seemed to pierce into her very soul. "You are mine, and only mine," he declared with possessiveness. ************************************************************* Ashley was a young woman, beautiful yet self-centered, with an unshakable confidence. Fearless, she embraced the human lifestyle, resenting her werewolf heritage, even though she had not yet experienced the transformation. From the time before she was born, Ashley had been destined to be the future mate of the Lycan prince, a betrothal she only learned about when she came of age, and it did not sit well with her. What will happen if Ashley refuses to accept this betrothal? Will she ever experience the transformation into a werewolf, and what awaits her when she discovers the truth about her real identity?

“Andronikos, stop,” I said, not meaning it one bit. “Stop?” he echoed, his breath hot against my skin, eyes like molten silver. “Tell me to stop again, Adira. Say the word, and I’ll walk away.” Silence. Neither of us moved. Neither of us spoke. Then I broke. He was supposed to ruin her. She was supposed to hate him. But when blood, secrets, and obsession collide, Andronikos Karas finds himself torn between vengeance and the woman who’s slowly setting his world on fire. Adira Abara knows she should run. He’s dangerous, unhinged, and he's a literal warning sign. But when desire turns lethal and the truth threatens to destroy them both, can she resist the man who was never meant to love her? One thing is certain: Andronikos will stop at nothing to claim both his justice... and the woman who’s become his greatest weakness.

WARNING] This story is not the typical childhood tale where the princess will be saved by her prince, and they will live happily ever after. This tale is about the princess who made her happily ever after- and to do that, she needed to be wicked like her stepmother. ------ "Run!" Snow doesn't have the choice but to follow prince Arthur. She closed her eyes and ran into the dark and dense forest. "Awoo..." Snow's quick run was stopped when a loud howl echoed through the forest. "What should I do? I can't go back...the queen soldier is all over the place and this is the only place they won't dare to go..." she uttered. Although her whole body was trembling, Snow continued her walk but she made a full stop. "Grr..." Snow's eyes widened as the cold sweat broke out on her forehead. " It looks like I can't escape death tonight..."

⚠️ Warning: Abuse, descriptive sexual acts, please refrain from reading this if you're below 18, forbidden love, BDSM, sex control, manipulation. "Take off your dress,” he ordered, his voice quiet but commanding. One guard hesitated and tried to speak, “But, sir—” Damian’s cold stare silenced him immediately. “I said take it off,” he repeated, this time with no room for argument. The guards exchanged nervous looks and then left the room, closing the door with a chilling finality. Aurora was now alone with this man, the one who had bought her like an object. Her dress felt heavy, her heels like chains. Taking a shaky step toward him, her breathing echoed in the silence. “Please,” Aurora whispered, dropping to her knees. “I’m only eighteen. Don’t do this.” Her voice was small, trembling, but she knew he held all the power.

“That’s not my baby.” His voice echoed through the room, sharp and cold, slicing through the warm, celebratory atmosphere we’d carefully set up. Everyone went still, and I felt my heart lurch, every beat heavy with disbelief. I stared at him with wide eyes, hoping I’d misheard. “What?” The word barely escaped my lips, a fragile whisper. He didn’t even flinch. “That is not my baby,” he repeated, louder, as if to make sure everyone—his family, all gathered here—would hear. *** Darla was rejected by her fiance three months before her wedding claiming that she was sleeping with other men. She was humiliated and kicked out by his family despite her pregnancy, returning home, she was met with the tragic accident of her whole family. Not only did she lose her family and fiance in one night but she was also found out that her fiance was getting married to his claimed cousin. She vowed to take revenge on them and win back everything that belongs to her.

"This is our first night together. You are now my Luna. So, you better take off your clothes or I'll make you." The voice of Alpha Aragon echoed in her ears. She attempted suicide and fled on her wedding day, but nothing worked out. No matter how hard she tried to flee her alpha, he always tracked her down to his castle, his room, and his bed. “I… I….” She stuttered, her gaze drawn away from his. Her heart was with her fiance, who she desired to mate with, until she met that cruel alpha. Her life has been turned upside down since then. "Strip now or I'll..." he growled, threateningly. "Or what?" she wondered aloud, raising her brow. "Are you going to rape me?" "No, I will tie your fours to the bed and fuck you roughly until the sunrise," he said, shaking his head and grumbling.

Everyone knew—Jessica Conway had always adored Jack Murray. They were high school lovers, and everyone just assumed they would get married eventually and live happily ever after. But then, there was Abby Conway, Jessica's elder sister who was "gravely ill." On the eve of Jessica and Jack's wedding, he said, "Jess, your sister's really really sick. Let's give her a chance to be the bride for now, alright? You know you're the one I love." Abby echoed, "Jess, promise me you'll come to the wedding, okay?" Jessica clutched the stomach cancer diagnosis in her hands and said nothing. On the wedding day, she never showed up. Jack, realizing her absence, abandoned the ceremony and rushed home—only to find the house empty. The only thing left behind was a single sheet of paper: her final diagnosis. For three days and three nights, Jack knelt before Jessica, begging for a second chance. But she never forgave him. Not even in death.

The day my mother-in-law discovered she had uterine cancer, she packed up and moved in to our home. “I don’t have much time left. I’m all out of hope!” she choked out. “You’d be cruel to kick me out. Show me some mercy!” I looked at my speechless husband, then at my beloved son I had raised with so much love and care. I asked them, "What do you guys think?" My husband silently made a grim expression and grabbed my arm. “How long are you going to hold on to that little incident that happened after Everett was born? Mom's already so sick." My son echoed his sentiment, “Grandma doesn't have much time left. Of course we have to take good care of her!" I smiled at them and said, “Alright. You guys can take care of her if you love her so much."

I was with a fishmonger for seven years. Every night, he pinned me beneath him, reckless and wild. Until one day, he took off his bloodstained apron and came clean–he was getting engaged to Sophia, the Bilotti heiress. Only then did I learn that he was the Don of the Colleo family. “Hahaha! You fooled around with Ms. Mancini for seven years, only to take another delicate young lady’s hand in marriage. Surely, she’s going to come at you.” “Don Colleo, you should keep things sweet with her.” His men’s laughter echoed in my ears. “What’s the rush? I’ve broken her well enough these past seven years. If you don’t mind, you can have her for a couple of days. Evelyn… flexible.” On the day of Vincent’s engagement party, I handed the evidence of his crimes to the police. As the sirens ripped open the city night, someone called out my name. I smiled and leaped from the eighteenth floor.