Enderman Face

I'm the female protagonist of a spicy novel. One day, the system tosses me into an innocuous novel to be reformed. What a joke! I turn to the male protagonist. "Hi there. Want to make out?" He has me thrown behind bars and accuses me of molesting him. Much later, he does even naughtier things than the male protagonists in spicy novels do.

I decided to die on my 28th birthday. It was not suicide but homicide... by my dear sister, Susan Bruno. I had always known that she would kill me. I told my older brother, Barry Bruno, and he said, "Charlotte, don't always think so badly of Susan." I told my fiancé, Calvin Simmon, and he said, "You're making up a story to draw attention again." Hence, I decided to give them the evidence they wanted most—a corpse. I installed seven cameras, set up an automatic sending program, and wrote a farewell letter. I left clues for the killer, bait for Susan, and a time bomb for my family. Today, Susan texted: [Charlotte, Dad has something for you at the safe house.] I replied: [Coming.] Before leaving, I checked my to-do list one last time. Everything was checked off, except for one thing: death. I would die. They would never know that the moment my heart stopped beating... the countdown to revenge had only just begun.

Eight years of loyalty—wiped out by three days of her batting her lashes. At the bonfire, I swore the Alpha would finally mark me. Instead, I watched him fasten a sparkly little pendant around her neck. When the fire broke out, he ditched me—flames snapping at my heels. Said I could "handle myself," then played hero carrying her out. She showed up at my herb shop all smug, called me a "mutt no one wants." Then he showed up—Alpha on his knees outside my door, begging for another shot. I nodded toward my shelves. "These heal every wolf in Stormborne... except the Alpha who couldn't see what was right in front of him."

Three years after our breakup, I ran into my ex-girlfriend, and she had her new boyfriend by her side. "Hey, isn't that Henry the expert?" Diego Stanley taunted with a smirk. "Three years post-breakup, and you're slumming it here playing with clay?" I furrowed my brow, ignored them, and carefully moved the Victorian-era porcelain musician figurine onto its preset base in the display case. When I wasn't biting, he reached out to grab the figurine from my arms. "What's this junk you're treating like gold? Let me take a look." Cynthia Wyatt frowned, her voice laced with that familiar arrogance. "Henry, I've given you three years to shape up, and you're still the same loser? Come on, hand over that clay doll to Diego. Don't kill the vibe. If you play nice, I might even reconsider our old engagement." As Diego's hand neared the figurine, I dodged quickly and barked, "Hands off! It's a historical artifact!" Diego got pissed off and shoved me hard. "Some flea market find, and you're acting all high and mighty?" In the ensuing scuffle, I lost my balance, and the figurine slipped from my grasp, crashing to the floor. That sealed their fate. This entitled pair was about to go bankrupt trying to fix it.

I've won a lottery hosted by the local bank that gives me an opportunity to experience a day as a rich person. Because of that, I'm given a temporary black card that has a credit limit of a billion dollars. Excited, I rush home to tell my wife, Lara Crawford, about it and plan on taking her to a fancy meal. Unexpectedly, Lara drugs me just so she can steal the black card. Then, she starts a livestream that's titled "Goodbye, Loser. Hello, Billionaire Life." with her male best friend, Adrian Schmitt. Lara can be seen buying a shopping mall with the black card on the livestream. Then, she mocks me for being an impoverished man who only deserves to eat the cheapest food available. What she doesn't know is that the purchase history of the black card is being live-streamed on the bank's channel at the same time. The title of that livestream is "A Test of Human Nature—When a Gold Digger Finds a Billion Dollars." Now, there are ten minutes left before the experience is over.

I'm seven months along with my second pregnancy when a truck almost hits me. My husband threatens the doctor like a maniac. "I'll make all of you retire prematurely if anything goes wrong with my wife!" Before I enter the operating theater, I can't help thinking he's being too anxious. The truck merely brushed past me and made me fall. He doesn't need to be so panicked. However, when I open my eyes again, I find that my belly is flat. I crawl out of bed in a panic and head to the door, where I overhear Lucian Jacobe talking to the doctor. "Mrs. Jacobe wasn't in a major accident, sir. The child could've been saved. Why did you insist on aborting it? It was a baby boy, too." "Jenny will cry if she finds out about me having children with another woman. How can I bear to see her upset? It's not my first time doing something like this, anyway."

The Ashford family opposed my relationship with Everett Ashford. To separate us, they drugged him, and his fiancée ended up pregnant with twins. Everett threatened suicide if I left him. He begged me to stay, swearing he would never see them again. He even told me the pregnancy had been terminated. Three years later, I spotted him at a parent-teacher conference. Enraged, I kept the twins after school and, on their way home, they were kidnapped. Everett blamed me for everything. To force me to reveal where the twins were, he strapped my mother onto a high tower ride. However, my mother had a heart condition. I sobbed that I did not know anything. Everett screamed at me. "I've been good enough to you! Why the hell would you go after those kids? Tell me where they are right now or I swear I'll push your mother off this thing!" He shoved her toward the platform's edge. The safety harness hung loose on her frail body. I had no idea where the twins were. Everett shoved my mother off anyway. Just then, someone found the twins. Everett walked away without looking back, leaving my mother dying of a heart attack. While he rushed to pick up his children, I stood in a hospital room pulling a white sheet over my mother's face. That was the moment I finally stopped loving him.

The night before our wedding, Edward Fowler's friends gather for a celebration. A full set of sex toys lies in the gift box from his tomboy bestie, Winnie Spencer. I freeze, and Winnie shouts boisterously, "Don't you dare go easy on him, Sarah. That pup might look like someone who's abstaining, but he's actually pretty wild in the sheets. "During the start of the year, he only used three of these, yet he landed me straight in the hospital with injuries that took me half a month to heal!" She then hooks an arm around Edward's neck. "Let me give you a piece of advice as your buddy—you need to learn how to be gentle once you're married. "Sarah looks so delicate, so you'd better not pull the same stunt as last time. I was just recovering, yet you dragged me into it for two whole days. I almost died in bed!" My face darkens. Winnie covers her mouth in exaggerated shock. "It's just us buddies messing around. You're not mad, are you, Sarah?" Everyone is anticipating for me to snap. But instead, I let out a soft chuckle before replying, "Why would I be? I should be thanking you for being a free tutor instead. After all, someone who's in your line of work would charge at least three hundred dollars per night just for the same lesson."

After my physical examination, I'm about to leave the pack infirmary located in my cousin's territory when a heavily made-up healer suddenly grabs my arm. She hisses, "Stop right there! You think you can break something in the infirmary and just run away? No way!" I look at her unfamiliar face and blink, feeling utterly confused. "What did I break?" She points to the crystal potion bottles on the shelves and wrinkles her nose exaggeratedly. "You reek, and your stench has contaminated all the potions, making them unusable! Alpha Xander bought these at a high cost, and all of it is worth 500 thousand dollars. There's also compensation for causing me emotional distress—that's another 200 thousand. "Altogether, that's 700 thousand dollars. Will you pay by cash or card?" My scent is a mix of violet and amber. It's noble and cool, like a winter dusk. Of course, not everyone loves this scent, but "contamination"? Please! I can't fathom why the infirmary in Xander's territory is operating like a scam. I laugh out of anger and say, "I'm Alpha Xander's cousin. I don't pay a single cent in his territory. If anyone has a problem with that, have Xander come say it to my face." But the healer only rolls her eyes. "You bitch, trying to use such lowly tricks to get my Alpha's attention? You wish! If you don't pay up today, I'll strip you naked and throw you onto the street so that everyone can smell how foul you are!" She has no idea who she's threatening. I take a deep breath and quickly contact my Beta. "Tell Xander—either banish this healer from the pack, or I'll banish him."

TRIGGER WARNING 🔞 This novel contains mature themes intended for ADULT READERS ONLY. Future chapters will include explicit sexual content, graphic erotic scenes, and explicit dialogue that may not be suitable for all audiences. Lights off. Masks on. Rules carved in stone. In a world where love is nothing two broken souls make a pact of pleasure only. No love allowed. Purple Hearts has learned the hard way that love destroys everything it touches. Echo Reid knows love is a lie. Scarred by a past he can’t outrun, For him, intimacy is just a game—a way to numb the pain that never truly fades. “Spread your legs, my sweet Purple,” he groans against her skin, his voice dark “Please…” she begs, her nails digging into his back as pride dissolving “Please what?” he teases, dark and dangerous. “I want you inside me,” she rasps, sweat beading on her forehead as she surrenders to the stranger who makes her feel more alive. His lips trace paths of fire across her body, sending jolts of unfamiliar ecstasy through her veins. But when her hands fly to his face, almost tearing away the mask that hides him from her, he pulls back—cold, sharp, unforgiving. “Sweet Purple,” he says, a smile playing at his lips, “remember the rules.” Before she can apologize, he’s gone—vanishing into the shadows as if he was never there at all, leaving her alone in the silence. “Until we meet again.” But what happens when the masks start to slip? When the lines between pleasure and pain blur? When two people who swore they’d never love again find themselves craving more than just a moment in the dark? Is love truly a tragedy… or could it be the only thing that can save them both?