Novelas y relatos de Female Cultivators Are After Me

I had to go see a gynecologist. My period was late again. I booked a specialist whose name sounded very feminine, Jessie Lloyd. Jessie seemed pretty popular. I was number 35. On the day of the appointment, I sat in the waiting area, scrolling my phone screen now and then, occasionally glancing up to check the queue. Then, I noticed something strange. Why did every woman coming out of the consultation room look so radiant, no matter her age? Jessie had to be insanely good. That was what I thought.

she purred into my ear. “Maybe later. I want to keep dancing.” I replied. I had no plans of going home with anybody. The sooner I started training Atalanta, the sooner I could go back to my regular schedule. The woman grabbed my crotch—a move that was too aggressive, even for me.

he informs me as I scan through the list of Alphas and their Lunas around for the festival. "Tch!" I click my tongue. Vida is human, there's no doubt they want to see her so they can mock me, just look at their numbers. I had expected this much turn up since I'm the one holding the festival ball this year. They would want any opportunity to meet with me to discuss one thing or two to favour them and most likely want to see who Vida is so they can weigh her worth.

She could even have the male lead's child be born via a cannon fodder. [Oh, you don't know. The cannon fodder existed just to be a breeding machine.] 'Breeding machine?' I wondered as I tugged at the corner of my mouth and touched my belly that still seemed to be in ripping pain from the previous life. Cheryl leaned closer to me and waved her hand in front of my face. "Lena! What's on your mind?" I snapped out of my daze, lowered my gaze, and replied faintly, "Nothing." All of a sudden, the chicken soup was pushed to my lips. Cheryl's voice had a flirtatious tone. "Lena, drink it up quickly."

Alex. The garden was a riot of color and life, a stark contrast to the sleek, modern lines of the house. I followed the winding stone path, the sound of childish laughter and splashing water growing louder with each step. As I rounded a corner, I spotted them. Ava, kneeling by the edge of a small, ornate fountain. And Emilia, her dark curls damp and clinging to her cheeks, her little hands plunged into the water as she giggled and played. For a moment, I just watched them, something warm and unfamiliar stirring in my chest. Ava's face was soft, unguarded in a way I'd never seen before. She was smiling, her eyes crinkled at the corners as she watched her daughter play.

After all, he practically stripped naked just to teach me. But learning to raise parasites wasn’t going to solve my immediate crisis. Seven days later, Carol took my blood for testing. The moment she discovered I wasn’t pregnant, she ordered the bodyguards to beat me viciously. “If you’re still not pregnant after another seven days, I really will break your legs!” For the first time in my life, I finally understood what being beaten half to death felt like. Lying pitifully on the bed, I asked Blake if he could lend me the Deathfeign Parasite for a while.

Her eyes scanned the females as they fought their fear. “We’re all gonna die,” the girl beside her hummed, licking her parched lip. “How do you know that?” Isolde blurted, managing to hold herself from freaking out. “We’re headed to Abbator in Bloomington, the land where females are used as procreators,” the girl answered. “Procreators?” Sure, Isolde didn’t understand that. “Yes. From what I heard, Bloomington lacked female species. They need females that would help in procreation. But not just to the people…”

Perfect. But something in me does not settle. Not completely. “I think it looks better than before, my lady,” Fiona says softly behind me. I nod. “It does.” But beauty does not erase memory. I walk further inside, letting my fingers brush lightly against the surfaces. Then my thoughts drift elsewhere. The garden. “I want to plant edible plants,” I say. “Vegetables. Fruits.” Fiona smiles. “That would be wonderful.” I nod again. Something simple. Something that belongs to me.

KANE I stood in the shadows, watching as Catherine sat with my mother. I watched how her delicate fingers scribbled something on parchment. They were outside in the garden, surrounded by vibrant flowers. My mate was here, just within reach, yet something gnawed at me. A primal need to claim her, to keep her close, warred with the fear that I could destroy her. I clenched my fists, willing myself to stay calm. My mother’s voice floated over to me, cheerful and full of excitement as she guided Catherine through the process of sending invitations to dignitaries across the realm. Invitations for a mating ceremony she really wanted to happen.

"Looks like they are all here. Let's begin!" The first six women entered the stage and took their spot by their Kings. All men looked at their woman standing in front of them with a drink in their hands. Briva stood in front of Adrian in a black, short dress. A woman in black underwear stood in front of Micah and Samael was looking at his woman, a tall lady with red lace underwear. "Touching is allowed! Ladies, you have the opportunity now to seduce your king and do with them whatever you want to! The seed of a particular plant has been put next to each throne. The biggest grower is through to the next round." Yroul explained again.