Farewell Message

I, Ginny Tremaine, have a written agreement in my mate contract with Tyler Kingsley, the chairman of the Werewolf Council. As long as I proposed to him 99 times first, he promised to personally show up at the Office of Werewolf Mate Affairs on the 100th time and complete our marking ceremony. However, Tyler doesn't show up on the promised day and instead appears on the main stage of the Silvernight Music Festival with his lover, Vivian Lowe. In the livestream watched by the entire pack, he leans down and kisses her so intimately that it's practically a declaration of ownership. The social media networks instantly erupt with excitement. "#ChairmanOfTheWerewolfCouncilOfficiallyRevealsMate." "Chairman of the Werewolf Council caught kissing his lover and showing PDA." At the same time, I become a trending search for standing in front of the Mate Affairs office for the 100th time. Everyone speculates about the identity of the mystery man who never showed up and wonders if I will try for a 101st proposal. Tyler, likely feeling guilty, promises me the next day, "Next time, I promise I'll be there on time." He arrives in a crisp suit with papers in hand, standing outside the Mate Affairs office. But all he receives is a short message from me, saying, "Alpha Tyler, there won't be a 101st proposal. We're truly over."

On the tenth day after I perished in the avalanche, my husband finally remembered me. His first love was suffering from aplastic anemia and urgently needed a bone marrow transplant—one that only I could provide. He came home holding a donation consent form, ready for me to sign, only to find the house empty. Kelly leaned weakly against him. "Vanessa must really hate me. She doesn't want to donate her bone marrow, so she ran away on purpose, didn't she?" "Maybe we should just forget it," she sighed. "I can hold on a little longer." Caden gently comforted her, his heart aching. "I won't let anything happen to you." "It's just a bone marrow donation. It's not like she'll die from it." Then he pulled out his phone and sent me a message: [No matter where you are, come back immediately and sign the donation consent form.] [Don't be so selfish! Kelly is seriously ill. If she doesn't get a transplant soon, she'll die. It's just bone marrow—I'm not asking for your life!] [If you keep refusing, I'll stop paying for your mother's medical bills!] Caden… I died the moment you walked away from the ski resort with Kelly. The avalanche buried me and our unborn child beneath the snow. My mother, in her desperate attempt to save me, was torn apart by wild wolves. How could you not know?

“Wendy, are you absolutely sure you want to sign this document?” The Elder’s voice rang in my ears—cold, distant. “Once your bond with Alpha John is dissolved, you’ll lose everything tied to the Blackthorn Pack.” I gripped the pen so hard my knuckles turned white. “Yes. I’m sure.” But just as the tip touched the paper— BANG! The door was kicked open with a violent crash. Alpha John stormed in, eyes bloodshot, and wrapped his hand around my throat. “You dare?!” Blood slipped from the corner of my lips… but I laughed. Because I knew—he would never discover the truth. That his dear uncle, Alpha Vincent, was hiding in my closet at this very moment. And the fresh bite mark on my lower belly… still burned from last night. As if fate was mocking me, my sweet little sister Penny sent a message right then: “Sis, wanna know a secret? That miscarriage you had? John planned it. He made it happen.” Then the TV flickered to life with a breaking live broadcast— There she was, Penny, gently stroking her swollen belly as she smiled into the camera. “John and I are expecting our baby next month,” she announced proudly to the entire Pack. And Alpha John—my “husband”—stood beside her, lovingly kissing her forehead. Like I never existed. Like I wasn’t the Luna written in law. “Miranda,” my wolf snarled in my head, “Rip those traitors apart—now!” But I didn’t. I wiped the blood from my mouth, and dialed the number I hadn’t called in five long years. “Vincent,” I said calmly, “Come get me.”

It was something that Lissa had wanted ever she laid eyes on their newly appointed supervisor over the small but continuously growing company that she works for. He's gorgeous as hell. And everybody wants him. Sometimes, Lissa even thinks about whenever she 'plays' with herself. But of course, everything that she fantasies will remain as a fantasy. That supervisor of hers is bisexual and prefers to do the deed with men. But that's until she hears a little something from a little birdie in the table next to her. "Karma is a bitch, and revenge is best served cold --- bitter and kicking." As the messed up relationship between Anthony and Lissa grows passionately everyday, a text message from an unknown number will disrupt their lives. The text message contained a few sentences, something vague and Anthony thought it was only a scam for there are so many opportunistic folks in the world. However, the next day when he turned up for work with Lissa holding his hand, a certain woman wearing a Burgundy lipstick rattled him to the core. It was Tessa. Armed with vengeance and a story that could potentially destroy the empire Anthony's father has built. "So... what's your plan now, Mr. Lee?" Tessa leaned closer, whispering words laced with venom to his ear. "Will you cave in, or... would you like the world to know what kind of twisted son a of a bitch you really are." Anthony swallowed, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. His head was spinning and his world was crashing and burning and breaking in different places. And so it's true, Karma comes after everyone eventually. And this is his. "What do you want?" Tessa licked her lips then smirked. "Isn't it obvious?" She chuckled, her fingers traveling down his pants. "You."

Emily wakes up one morning, trapped inside a Wattpad book she had read the previous night. She receives a message from the author informing her that it is her curse to relive everything in the story as one of the side characters because she criticized the book. Emily has to survive the story and put up with all the nonsense of the main character. The original book is a typical blueprint Wattpad werewolf story. Emily is thrown into this world as the main character's best friend, Catherine/Kate. There are many challenges and new changes to the story that makes thing significantly more difficult for Kate. Discover this world alongside Kate and see things from a different perspective. TW: Mentions of Abuse If you are a big fan of the typical "the unassuming girl is the mate of the alpha and so everything in the book resolves around that" book, this book is not for you. This is more centered around the best friend who is forgotten during the book because the main character forgets about her best friend due to her infatuation with the alpha boy.

When Mizuko slipped into the other world, she landed in the arms of a mischievous demon prince, Kenshi. New to the world, she didn't know he was a demon as he looked to her like he was a decent person. Because Kenshi helped her first, Mizuko decided to ask him for help in finding a way home while she fulfills the dead mage's request in relaying the message to the King. But no demon in Souzou helps unless they get something in exchange. A promise, it is what Kenshi wants the most.

J’étais en couple avec Éric Simonot depuis trois ans, mais il n’a jamais voulu me demander en mariage. Ou plutôt, il refusait de le faire. Puis, il a eu un coup de foudre pour ma demi-sœur, Stéphane Cousteau, et s’est mis à la courtiser ouvertement, sans aucune retenue. Cette fois, je n’ai ni pleuré ni attendu patiemment qu’il revienne vers moi une fois qu’il aurait fini de s’amuser, comme je l’avais fait dans le passé. J’ai rassemblé tous les cadeaux qu’il m’avait offerts et je les ai jetés. J’ai aussi découpé en morceaux la robe de mariée que j’avais achetée en secret. Le jour de son anniversaire, j’ai décidé de quitter Paris, seule. Juste avant d’embarquer dans l’avion, Éric m’a envoyé un message : « T’es où ? Tout le monde t’attend. » J’ai esquissé un sourire et j’ai bloqué toutes ses coordonnées. Il ne savait pas qu’il y a deux semaines, j’avais accepté de me marier avec Clovis Lavanchy, un ancien camarade d’université. À l’atterrissage dans ma nouvelle ville, Clovis et moi allions nous marier.

My boyfriend and his godsister were caught by the vice squad at a scandalous party. When I went to the police station to bail him out, he was disheveled, his exposed skin marked with dried candle wax and whiplash scars. His godsister, Sonia, clung to him, sobbing into his arms. “The light in Sonia’s house was broken. It was too dark, so I went to accompany her,” he said. I couldn’t help but wonder, Did he accompany her all the way to the police station too? In the past, I would’ve demanded an explanation, but I was too tired now—too drained to argue. Without a word, I signed the papers. The vice squad officer looked at me and asked, “Are you Anthony Leeman’s family?” I shook my head. “No, I’m not familiar with him. Just a colleague.” Lowering my gaze, I typed out a message to my father: [I agree to get married. Give me three days, and I’ll marry him.]

Three days after the healer told me I was terminally ill, Keith Bradford—the alpha's heir—finally completed his training and returned to the pack. Rumor had it, he was back for his future mate. The alpha had chosen a perfect match for him—a well-bred, talented girl, two years younger than Keith. Sweet, gentle, never even had a boyfriend. The complete opposite of me, with exes as countless as the stars. It was not until a week after Keith returned that I finally saw him, outside the treatment room. He had not changed much—sharp features, high nose bridge, deep, defined eyes. Just as impossibly handsome as he was the first time we kissed. Almost as if sensing my gaze, Keith looked up, sharp and alert. Our eyes met—and for a second, it felt like the air froze. Everyone thought I would recklessly ruin Keith’s engagement, just like the wild girl I used to be. But what they didn’t realize was… my time was running out. I stepped forward, calm and composed, a faint smile on my lips. "It's been a while… my dear brother." I could not help but whisper in my heart, "These few days will be our final farewell, Keith."

I was on a business trip out of town when I got a text from my neighbor. [Can you and your husband keep it down? Also, one of your undies fell onto my balcony.] Shocked, I opened the photo she had sent. The underwear wasn't even my style, but it matched the one I'd seen in my husband's online shopping cart. He'd told me it was a gift for me, but I remember noticing the size—it was one size larger than mine. When confronted with the neighbor's message, my husband swore that the house must've been broken into and claimed the intruder left the item behind. But something about his story didn't sit right, so I decided to dig further. That was when I stumbled upon his social media. His latest post was just three words. [I bought this.] It was paired with a photo of a lingerie gift set. Beneath it, there was a comment. [I'm wearing it.] Attached was a picture of a woman's legs—and the unmistakable background of my living room. The evidence was undeniable. I packed up the underwear and brought it straight to the police. "My husband says our house was broken into. This was left behind by the intruder, and it might have DNA on it."