Novel & Cerita Feather Tattoo On Ankle

Three days before my marking ceremony, someone set fire to the bridal shop while I was inside trying on my ceremonial dress. Alpha Marcus threw the arsonist into the pack prison, sentencing them to the harshest punishment our laws allowed. I lay in the hospital bed, my body covered in third-degree burns, refusing to wake fully as the reality of my disfigurement sank in. In my semi-conscious state, I heard Marcus speaking with the pack's healing witch. "Alpha, we can still heal her completely with the ancient magic. If we wait any longer, Sarah will bear these scars for life! You just want Miss Rachel to be your Luna at the marking ceremony. This is cruel beyond measure!" "Let her keep the scars. I'll provide for her for the rest of her life, but if she's healed, she'll definitely cause trouble at the marking ceremony." "I promised Rachel that her pup would be welcomed into the pack with full honors. Only when Sarah is completely disfigured will she be grateful enough to raise Rachel's child as her own. The scars are necessary - at least this way, she won't dare mistreat the pup." In the corner of the room, where no one was watching, a tear slid down my burned cheek. So this was the truth. The marking ceremony I'd dreamed of was nothing but a lie. The mate bond I longed for would be my death sentence. If that's how it had to be, I would give him what he wanted.

Elena had once believed that silence could mean safety. That a gentle hand and a warm cup of tea placed quietly on her desk every morning could be a form of love. Lucien was never cruel—not in the obvious ways. He remembered how she liked her eggs, noticed when she swapped her perfume, and sent flowers on days he knew she wouldn’t expect them. He raised her like one would raise a pet—softly, without question. And Elena, foolish in the way only the very lonely can be, mistook his quiet affection for devotion. She told herself he was reserved. Mysterious. That love didn’t always wear its heart on its sleeve. But when the old flame returned—the one who spoke his language without needing to try—Elena saw it. The difference. He looked at her like a man who had found his lost religion. And Elena? She had simply been convenient. No tears, no scene. Just papers on the breakfast table, beside the eggs he cooked perfectly. She didn’t accuse or beg. She only asked for freedom. He didn’t sign. He chuckled. A soft, dismissive sound. “A cat raised indoors doesn’t know how to survive on the street, Elena. You’ll come back." But she didn’t. She disappeared, like smoke—except she didn’t vanish, not really. She lived. She wore colour again. Laughed at bad jokes. Let strange men hand her coffee and ask for her number. Lucien? He watched. He watched her become someone without him. And it drove him mad. The night he cornered her outside the gallery, rain in his hair and desperation in his eyes, he looked like a man undone. "Elena," he breathed, "please. Look at me. Just once." She did. Calm as ever, and her love already gone.

A week before my death, my Alpha mate's childhood sweetheart Sarah returned to our pack. That night, he didn't come home. The next day, I received his mind-link. "I've purchased a mate-bond severing potion from the pack witch. Come home now so we can break our bond." In our pack, the Moon Goddess was very serious about mate bonds. Once two wolves chose to form a mate, the mate bond could not be severed, unless the witch's potion was used. This potion was very expensive, costing up to $500,000 per bottle. I smiled bitterly. He was very generous to sever the bond with me. I coughed twice before answering, "I'm in the healing center." His voice turned ice cold. "I don't care where you are. Even if you're about to die, you need to come back." I calmly replied, "Fine." He didn't know that I really was dying. Three years ago, during a rogue wolf attack, I blocked the silver dagger for him to protect him while he was unconscious. I was poisoned by silver and became weaker and weaker over the past three years. I only had one week left to live. On the day of my funeral, my mate was busy holding his marking ceremony with Sarah. Later, he knelt before my grave in pristine white ceremonial clothes, clutching my headstone and whispering through tears. "If there's another life after this one, I still want to marry you." That day was his marking ceremony with his childhood sweetheart. It was also my funeral.

“Heidi, call me a monster. Call me a beast. Fuck, call me the Devil. It does not change the way I feel about you.” “How about the way ‘I’ feel about you?” I whisper. “This hatred—built from love, passion… trust.” Hunter gently takes my hand and interlocks it with his before placing both on his chest. He then leans down to bump his forehead on mine, making me close my eyes and sigh as it drives in me sensations that cause me to crumble. “I love you, Heidi…” he whispers—doesn’t do good for my eyes bleeding more tears. “…and I will let the world burn for you.” ~ H E I D I I’ve lived twenty-two years but never seen a man like Hunter. He has killed everyone I know and is bound to do more, which is why I’m determined to stop him, if only I wouldn’t have to deal with these emotions—old feelings clashing with new ones; love and hate—that make me want to squash his heart one moment, then piece it up the next. But I know I can’t hang between these feelings forever. I have to choose, and quickly. H U N T E R I am told she is dangerous, a being forbidden from existence. Yet, I find myself protecting her. I shouldn’t, but I do. Then I realize she isn’t the threat. Where danger lies is with my feelings—ones that I must not have, that will be my downfall. To be that creature feared by all, I need to be the man with nothing to lose. But now I have so much to lose. Even nature has fated our Love to be doomed and will see to its vow that one of us is destroyed.

Selene's whole world ended the day she walked in on her husband and the man she gave up everything for, cheating with not just anyone but his own step sister. Filled with anger and pain, she decides to drop her usual good girl act and drown her sorrows. What she doesn't expect is that her attempt to forget leads her straight into the clutches of Aries Dimitriou, a reclusive and crazily wealthy man whose eyes were so cold, it sent goosebumps all over her skin. Before she can take a breath, he suddenly proposes a deal. Live in his home, cook and care for his three troubled children and earn a fortune. At first, she wants nothing of such a shoddy deal but the moment she finds that he is the fiancee of none other than the same woman who ruined her life, she accepts it without any hesitation. Now, trapped in a mansion so ridiculously large it seems like a maze, while also surrounded by mean little brats out for her life and an emotionless man whose gaze both scares and makes her body burn, Selene is starting to think that her little petty revenge plot might not be as easy as she thought. As if she doesn't have enough to worry about, she still has to deal with the Dimitriou crazy family members who think their all that just because they are rolling in wealth.

“Where’s your fight now, wife?” Dominic's breath ghosted across my bare skin. “Let me go. I’m warning you,” I hissed, struggling against his wrist that held both my hands above my head. “Funny... Your upper and lower lips seem to be contradicting each other. I don’t know which to trust… maybe I should kiss both, see which one’s lying.” “Fuck you!” I spat—only it came out more like a moan I couldn’t control. “Yeah…” His hand tightened, holding me just enough to make my pulse pound. “Yeah… you will. You’ll beg for it.” “You'll scream it out to the world. Tell them who you belong to,” And it should’ve been a joke. A sick one. Because Dominic Cantrell wasn’t someone girls like me belonged to. He was the billionaire’s heir with a reputation that could ruin cities and rebuild them. I was a mere cleaner with a brother in debt. But when a series of mistakes; one fight, one night, one kiss; pulls us into a contract that binds me to him for 365 days, survival becomes something I have to earn… under him. The devil thinks I’m a pawn. He thinks he can own me, bend me, break me. He’s so wrong. Because I'm not one of his bimbos. I'm his Kryptonite. And one day? I’ll make the devil kneel. WARNING: Contains high R-rated explicit scenes.

I woke up naked beside a man I hadn’t seen in eight years. Before noon, the scandal was everywhere. By noon, I’d lost my position as CEO, my name, and my marriage. But the worst betrayal wasn’t the headlines. It wasn’t walking in on my husband and my best friend planning my downfall and mocking me. It was finding out the man I loved, my sweetheart of five years, made me a surrogate without my knowledge. The twins I'd been carrying for seven months weren't mine. But it failed to break me. It only made me stronger. After all, I wasn't just a mother—I was a CEO.

"Go to hell, Richard." Karen Andrews thought those would be the last words she ever spoke to the man who destroyed her. The husband who called their unborn child "that thing" and threw her out like yesterday's trash. But three years later, she's no longer the broke housewife he discarded. She's Karen Andrews. CEO. Millionaire. A mother. And she just stole the biggest contract of Richard Palmer's career right from under his nose. Now Richard wants her back. He's seen their daughter. He knows what he lost. But Karen has rebuilt her life with Jason, a man who loves Sophie as his own and treats Karen like she deserves. She's finally found peace. Then Lena strikes. Richard's mistress-turned-obsession won't let Karen have her happy ending. Lena will burn down everything Karen built just to keep Richard's attention on the past instead of moving forward. When Karen's company teeters on the edge of collapse and her engagement falls apart under the pressure, she must decide: does she fight back with the same ruthless tactics that nearly destroyed her, or does she prove she's better than everyone who underestimated her? Because this time, it's not just about revenge. It's about protecting her daughter, saving her company, and proving that the woman Richard Palmer threw away was the best thing that ever happened to him.

On my birthday, Connor Simpson's first love jumped off a building due to depression. She died on the spot. Connor blamed everything on me. I never celebrated my birthday again after she died. After the murderer electrocuted me for more than ten hours, they forced me to call Connor. "Connor, it's my 25th birthday today. Can you come over and spend time with me?" However, Connor did not notice anything unusual. His voice was laced with venomous iciness. "Clarisse Winter, Audrey wouldn't have died if it weren't for you. How dare you ask me to celebrate your birthday? If only you were the one who died." I heard him coaxing a woman on the other end just before he hung up on me. That low and gentle tone was what I loved to hear the most in the past. That night, the murderer cut my body into countless pieces, packed them in bags, and threw them in front of the police station. Connor was summoned back overnight. He spent two days and two nights piecing together the body parts, but he did not realize that the dead person was the wife that he hated the most.

During a critical heart transplant, my doctor husband insisted his intern assist despite her garish nail art compromising the sterile field. When I called her out, he abandoned the patient mid-surgery to comfort her. I begged him to return, but he snapped, "Giselle is upset. Can't you wait? This is nothing compared to her feelings." 40 minutes later, the patient bled out and died. Later, they discovered that he was our highly respected mayor and placed the blame on me. "If it weren't for you causing a scene and kicking us out of the operating room, the mayor wouldn't have bled to death. This is all your fault!" Defenseless, I was sentenced to life in prison, tortured, and died in agony. My husband and his intern walked down the aisle, enjoying their happy life. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of that fateful surgery.