Fanfiction North And South

Cecilia Laurent’s husband, Lyon Melville, was known across North Ameria’s underground circles as the biggest womanizer. As the current Don of the Melville family, the women who wanted to get close to him would line up from New Yorke to Rondon. He never turned anyone away from his bed. Cecilia had been married to Lyon for five years. The taunting messages and intimate photos from his mistresses were enough to fill the storage on three of her encrypted phones. Cecilia showed no mercy. After the photos of Lyon in the car with a model were made public, she had the sports car dismantled completely. When he went out to sea with an actress to watch fireworks, she had the yacht blown to nothing. She blacklisted every woman who tried to cling to him. She overturned tables at family banquets. She risked every bit of dignity she had as the Melville family’s Donna in the hope that he would come back to her. Lyon allowed it. He let the rumors spread without denying anything. For five years, Cecilia was the joke of the family and the entire underworld. When the New Year came around, Cecilia received her first “gift” of the year. It was an intimate photo of Lyon in bed with another woman. At nearly the same time, a headline broke across New Yorke’s social media and tabloids. [Don Melville Meets Superstar Gianna Moretti Late at Night.] Inside the banquet hall of the family estate, the band continued to play. The champagne tower reflected a cold light. Everyone was waiting for her to blow up. Her assistant expertly pulled up the PR department’s number and held the phone out to her. “Donna Melville, the PR team is waiting for your instructions. Do you want us to make this bigger, like last time?” Cecilia looked at the man in the photo. Ten minutes ago, he had held their daughter on the balcony and watched the fireworks together. She suddenly smiled. “Take it down,” she said. “I don’t want to see this on the front page in two hours.” Everyone in New Yorke knew that the Melville family’s Donna loved like a madwoman. She could lose her temper just as easily. But this time, she did not lose control. She wanted a divorce.

The werewolves launched a massive invasion of the Elf Forest had been burned, half my people were dead, and my parents were missing. The Elf Queen asked me to go to Damien Thorne and make him stop the war. Damien Thorne. Alpha King of the North, my True Mate, the boy I'd grown up with. His sister Sera was the youngest of the three of us, and my best friend. A year ago, Sera vanished after a secret meeting. I walked out of the forest alive. He didn't — and to him, that was proof enough. He went mad. He burned the sacred trees, slaughtered my people, turned every drop of his hate on me. But he still loved me. So I went. He locked me in his study and fucked me for nine days. Even when I slept,his eyes full of something I couldn't read — madness, and pain. On the tenth day, he kissed his way down my spine, so gentle I let myself think it wasn't too late. The next second, the dagger went into my shoulder blade, straight through the root of my light-wing. The pain detonated from my spine to the crown of my skull. "Shh. Don't scream." He pressed my face into the pillow. "These nine days were the warm-up. Tell me where Sera is." He locked me in the dungeon. He used my people's lives as a leash. He married another she-wolf. The cold-iron whip came down. Each welt sealed itself shut against the iron-poison's burn, then split open again. Every strike felt like a red-hot brand pressed into my skin and ground in. It would never heal. But every time I came close to dying, it was him who tipped the antidote down my throat himself. His fingers shook. His eyes carried a tenderness he hated himself for. The night he got drunk, he crushed me against his chest. "You think I love you, so you can do this to me. Tell me where Sera is, and I'll let you go." I couldn't say it.The moment I opened my mouth, it would burn to ash. I wouldn't have to keep this secret much longer. An elf away from the forest for one full year is dead. No exceptions. I had two days left.