Romans & histoires Female Doomslayer

Chloe, the maid I share a room with, is dead. I watched the head housekeeper and another maid pin her to the floor. I watched them as the housekeeper vomited up a slimy, black web of fungus and forced it down Chloe's throat. I should have screamed. I wanted to. But my selective mutism took over, trapping the sound in my throat. It probably saved my life. The next day, Chloe was alive again. She walked into the young miss’s room to brush her hair, just like always. I was so scared I dropped the water basin I was holding. As I stood there, frozen, the young miss leaned in close, her voice a whisper only I could hear. "You've noticed it too, haven't you? They're not themselves anymore."

After my best friend Lily Warren was assaulted, she took her own life. I was the only person who knew who had done it. And I was the one who helped cover for him. When Lily's mother knelt at my feet, begging me to tell the truth, I turned away with a cold face. When the people in town called me heartless and smashed my door, I let my dog, Buddy, attack them without hesitation. Ten years later, I was dying. My long-lost best friend, Claire Sutton, returned as the wealthiest woman in the country. The first thing she did was drag me onto the memory-trial platform normally reserved for death-row prisoners. "Rachel Vale, you disgusting animal. You protected a rapist. Lily and I were blind to ever call you our friend! "Lily has been dead for ten years, and you let her attacker walk free for ten years! "Today, I'm going to use the memory extractor I developed to see exactly who you've been protecting!" But when the real culprit appeared before everyone, Claire Sutton collapsed on the spot. She could barely stay on her knees.

As soon as I get off the surgical table after my miscarriage, my husband, Presley Quinn, sends me a text message. "You were ten cents short when you paid your share of the power bill this month. Transfer the money to me immediately." I can only sit on the cold bench in the hospital on my own. The anesthesia has yet to wear out, but my belly is already hurting so much that I can practically feel it constricting on itself. The next thing I know, a new post appears on my social media homepage. It's a post made by Vivienne Ashford, the intern Presley is in charge of tutoring. In the photo, Vivienne can be seen holding a bouquet of flowers folded from money bills. A bright and radiant smile blooms on her face. The four-leaf clover necklace adorning her neck is the same necklace I've seen in Presley's purchase history two days ago. The caption of the photo writes, "I don't want a lot of money. I want a ton of love instead." Only then do I remember that today is Valentine's Day as well as my fifth-year anniversary with Presley. Over the past five years, Presley and I have been splitting every single bill, down to two decimal places. If I take a shower for more than 20 minutes, Presley demands that I pay extra for the water heater's power bill. When I cook myself some supper in the middle of the night, Presley wants me to split the gas bill generated by the stove. Even when my mom is hospitalized due to kidney failure and is waiting for her surgical bills to be settled, Presley refuses to lend me a single cent. Instead, he sends me a few links leading to web loans. As I stare at the social media feed, I chuckle all of a sudden. It turns out that Presley does know how to spend money. It's just that he doesn't have the heart to spend it on me. I smile once again as I leave a like on the post. Then, I transfer the ten cents to Presley. From now on, I don't owe him any single penny.

When I was five, I was kidnapped, and the people behind it memorized my face. To protect me, my older sister, Julianne, said, "Maddie, you need to stay out of sight for your own safety." From then on, she took my place whenever I was supposed to appear with my fiance, Adrian Moretti. At the grand opening of his casino, she said the crowd would be too dangerous, so she wore my dress and cut the ribbon beside him. At the Conti family's victory gala, she claimed our enemies might be lying in wait, so she took my invitation and danced with Adrian. After every event, she would pat my head and say: "Once the two of you are married, I can finally stop worrying." I always believed she was doing it for my sake. Then, before my wedding to Adrian, she put on my wedding gown and publicly stood in for me at the rehearsal. She posted pictures on her social media page. Wearing the gown that was supposed to be mine, she stood at the end of the aisle with her arm linked through Adrian's. The caption read: [I tested everything for Maddie first. It was all perfect.] The first comment underneath was from Adrian. [That dress suits you.] I stared at those words for a long time as my heart slowly turned cold. It was time to end this game of replacing me in the name of protecting me.

On the morning of my eighteenth birthday, I collapsed in the pack clinic after my ninety-ninth blood donation to my twin sister, Maeve. She'd been cursed since birth—a curse that could only be sustained by my blood. Our shared bond from the womb was the only thing keeping the dark magic at bay. When I woke up, the healer told me I had developed Aplastic anemia—a rare condition where my bone marrow was failing. Years of constant donations had finally broken my body down, and my wolf, Aurora, was too weak to fight it. I rushed to tell my family, hoping that this time would be different, only to find them at the bakery ordering a custom birthday cake with only Maeve's name on it. They'd forgotten my birthday entirely, even though we were twins born five minutes apart. At first, my sacrifice was met with love and praise. Now, it was nothing more than an obligation everyone expected. My family had chosen Maeve over me countless times before. This time, I decided to choose myself. I had two weeks before I would slip away from this pack house and their lives. Two weeks to prepare everything in silence while they remained oblivious. They would think I'd finally learned my place as Maeve's blood supply. But they would never realize I was counting down the days until I disappeared from their lives forever. By then, it would be too late.

After I transmigrate into a Gary Stu novel as the evil male supporting lead, a system appears in my mind. It tells me that as long as I can conquer one of the female leads, I will be able to return to my original world with a healthy body. But I've failed in my conquest. There are a few female leads in this novel. There's the fake heiress, Leslie Jackman, who I have grown up with and have viewed as my older sister. The true heiress, Miranda Suller, is a boxer who happens to be seatmates with me during our high school times. My childhood sweetheart, Catherine Langdon, who's also a genius surgeon, happens to be one of the female leads too. Heck, even my own daughter, Natalie Jackman… my own flesh and blood… All of them are quick to fall for Gabriel Linner, the poor yet strong-willed young man who's also known as the Gary Stu of this novel. Because of that, they hate me deeply. The system sighs before telling me that as long as I can die in the hands of any of the female leads, it will let me return to my original world. Later on, I use all of the tricks up my sleeve and succeed in getting killed by the female leads. But why is it that they've lost their minds after I die?

The aloof CEO and his childhood sweetheart bring the tragic novel's female lead to an orphanage to adopt a child. All the children pounce on the childhood sweetheart, saying, "Mommy, pick me! Pick me!" The viewers' comments come flooding in. "She can't birth her own child, and now even the orphans don't want her. The tragic female lead is truly pitiful, humiliated by both her husband and his childhood sweetheart!" "The childhood sweetheart keeps winning—spoiled by the CEO, and the orphans scramble to call her 'Mom.' The female lead is nothing but a piece of decor." "It's not tragic enough! Make her even more miserable! It's even better if she cries on the spot so that later, when the CEO recalls this scene, he'll have to work double time to win his wife back!" I glare at the comments, feeling so mad that my short legs push me forward, landing me right in front of the ignored female lead. I tug at her sleeve. "Missy, can you make stew?" The female lead freezes up. "I… I can." My eyes light up with joy. "That's it then! That's exactly what I love. I'll go with you!"

I'm wrong, Xavier is wrong. I should have killed him, and he should have been the end of me, therefore we shouldn't have been together. With murder and blood, we began. We began with games and sexual gratification. What we have is a complete catastrophe. However, we can't stop. Either I will destroy my mate, or he will destroy me. I was raised as an assassin, dressed as a man with a male wolf, and sent on a mission to kill Xavier the Alpha with a female wolf. However, the moon goddess pulled a prank on me when I was mated to the Alpha, whom I must kill in order to gain my freedom. What will transpire once Xavier understands that Hazel is not who he thought she was. As he realizes that the one person he trusted is out for his life, would he try to accept the mate bond or destroy her?

“I-I Denise Soleil Shadowstone, r-reject you as my mate,” she uttered candidly, lowering her head. Cole’s eyes widened in disbelief, “Repeat! Say it again!” Gentle clasps turn into possessive ones, waking up the dominant Alpha in him. “How dare y—” “I reject you,” she firmly said. Facing him with a full decision and denial of their mate bond makes Cole rage furiously in anger. Grasping tightly on her shoulders, he pinned her to a tree. During their staring contest, Denise saw how Cole’s eyes turned red. Then out of a sudden, her eyelids closed like its intentionally shut down by him. The last she felt was her own body collapsing, held by those cold arms of his. Denise Soleil Shadowstone, with her ambition of becoming the first female alpha, would take the risk. Independent woman that swears to never ever be needing a man in her life. For the war they must win, will she learn to accept their mate bond? Can love change her principle? In a war of truth and deceptions, unexpected twists and turns, would you step in?

“Who are you?” She stopped just when her hand made contact with the door knob. “Alpha Isabel Martinez” she replied in a voice that wasn’t hers. Dylan Dwight, the second son of the Alpha of the Greenwood pack couldn’t find a mate on his eighteenth birthday like every other male werewolf of his pack. Even after three years he still is mateless. This resulted in him having a fallout with his dad, and being scorned by members of his pack. Not able to do anything about his predicament, Dylan resigned himself to accept his fate, but he didn’t have enough time to do that as he was kidnapped by his own mate. What happens when he discovers he isn’t mated to just anyone, but an alpha. Not only is his mate an alpha but the very first female alpha in the history of werewolves. To make matters worse, Dylan’s mate is the Alpha of the Pride pack, the most feared pack in the world and Greenwood’s rival pack. Will Dylan refuse to betray his people and return to his pack or will he give in to the mate bond?