Fiber In Tagalog

Caroline just wanted to make it home for Christmas. Instead, she spun off the road in the ice-silent realm of the mountains and nearly died in the blizzard. When she opens her eyes, the first thing she sees is a tall, muscular man with jet-black hair, emerald-green eyes, and an intensity so visceral it steals her breath away. Rowan Blackthorn. The man who saved her and who looks at her as if he wants to drive her away and devour her all at once. Rowan is cold, arrogant, ruthless. He doesn’t ask, he doesn’t explain: he only commands. Every movement he makes is tense, dominant, dangerously masculine, and Caroline’s skin tingles at his every touch, as if her body recognizes some forbidden truth. The man clings to her with fury, yet desperately tries to keep her at a distance. But when Caroline simply walks past him, Rowan’s gaze rakes over her as if he could strip her bare with a single look. The tension between them is almost tactile, hotter than the fireplace flames in the mountain cabin where they are trapped by the storm. And while Rowan denies this desire with every fiber of his being, something dark and ancient stirs in the forest, reacting to Caroline’s presence. As if her arrival were more than a mere accident. As if she herself were the winter-bound secret that upends everything. Rowan says she brought danger with her. Caroline only feels one thing: the true danger is Rowan himself, and the fire his body ignites within her. One thing is certain: This holiday won't be about peace and joy. It will be about survival, the power of craving, and the fact that sometimes the most dangerous man is the one you most want to run from.

As I ran through the dense woods, I heard footsteps coming from behind. "Chase her!" "Don't let her escape!" A voice commanded, sending a surge of adrenaline through my veins. I ran with all my might, every fiber of my being focused on survival. Even as my knees were weak, I refused to stop. The injuries on my body throbbed with each step and tears welled up in my eyes from both physical and emotional pain. "Why's this happening to me?" I cried out in frustration. "Can't I just be a happy warewolf?" "You're quite the fast one," a man remarked, his grip on my chin rough. "Don't you look familiar?" he muttered, forcing me to meet his gaze. Unable to bear his scrutiny, I averted my eyes, consumed by fear. I wasn't ready to die. There was still so much life ahead of me! "Haha! It's the werewolf that overheard us!" the scarred man exclaimed, as he recalled where he saw me. Forcing me to my knees, he continued his tirade, "You idiot, you've brought death upon your own kind!" His words were accompanied by a brutal strike, causing fresh blood to spill from my wounds. I was tired of everything life was throwing at me. Maybe the Moon Goddess is calling me home to rest. "Kill me if you must!" I growled as I glared at him. Refusing to cower in the face of my captors. A young girl whose entire pack was cleared in front of her. Taken as a captive by another pack, Lilian was subjected to torture from the leader of a notorious group. what happens when she discovers her true identity? what if love for her comes with a sacrifice despite the war going on in the warewolf world?

Irene Harvey’s life comes crumbling when her mate rejects her on their wedding day and her father is arrested by her sworn enemy, Alpha Devon. This takes her back to square one, stripping her of every power she had as an Alpha daughter and turning into an Omega over night. To wash down the misery of being ruined by a man that not only arrested her father but had also killed her brother, she decided to go for a party. In that party, she meets a mysterious man in which she is attracted to. He takes her to his private cabin and they share a hot, steamy night. Irene Harvey’s life comes crumbling the second time when she learnt that the man she shared a steamy night with was Alpha Devon, the man she had always detested and the new Alpha of her Pack. —- “What do you want?” Irene spat, not bothering to flip the light on. His scent that she loathed with every fiber of her being announced him before his lips did. “You,” he replied softly, as if he hadn’t just snapped an innocent man’s neck for merely speaking to her. “You need to leave me alone, Devon.” Her voice crackled with frustration and fury. “You know that’s not possible,” he said, voice smooth as silk. “Stop this madness! What more do you need from me? You took my family, stripped me of my title, forced me into an Omega’s life. You took everything. Just leave. Me. Alone. Please.” In a blink he was inches from her, breath hot on her neck. “You don’t understand what you’ve gotten yourself into. This is do‑or‑die. Either I have you… or I kill every man who even breathes near you.”

Ava had her back at Drex, and for the past month, her life had turned from bad to worse. at that moment when she had fallen deeply in love with the ruthless assassin who contributed to making her life miserable, the world began to look beautiful again, she thought things would turn out for the best, only for her to find out that Drex was not protecting her because he loved her. "I hate you with every fiber in me," Ava screamed in tears. Even when she utters those words, her heart still beats for him, She wished he had killed her that night, she wished he had never met him. She wished she had never fallen for him, how can she love someone who wouldn't miss the slightest opportunity to end her life? "if I disappear out of your life, will that make you happy?" Drex asked. "You are a total jerk!" She yell. With rage, Ava stormed toward him and slapped him across his face, she made to slap him again but Drex held her tightly and draw her into his embrace. Her anger dissipated immediately, she melt away in his embrace. She love his smell, his cologne which she was now familiar with give her nothing but comfort. "I love this side of you, so feisty!" he said. ******** Don Drex Mason is well-known to the outer world as a dropped-dead handsome bachelor and a businessman but in the underworld, he was the most feared ruthless mafia assassin. Ava Anderson, a small-time introverted nosy newspaper journalist, the two personalities crossed paths on an unfortunate rainy night, she was his target and a threat to his client, she's to be eliminated at all costs. but their fate was already sealed by lightning which made them share one soul.

“Tell me you hate me,” Mikhail whispered, aggressively pressing the side of my face against his expensive wooden table. I inhaled sharply, fighting back the moan in my throat. “I…” I wanted to force the words out, because I did. I hated him with every fiber of my being, with every drop of the blood in my veins. At the same time, I didn't. I had never put a label on the other thing I felt for him. He would never feel the same, and he would scorn me. “Say it, Marlowe. Say you hate me.” He dared, thrusting hard into me and stealing my breath. “Oh my God,” I cried out, pushing my ass backwards to meet his thrusts despite myself. “You can't say it, can you?” He laughed scornfully. “I… hate you.” I managed, inhaling sharply. He tugged my hair, fucking me harder. “No, you don't.” I couldn't argue, because an earth shattering orgasm snuck up on me and blinded my thoughts. When I recovered, I realized he was not completely wrong. *** *** *** Marlowe had a simple, happy life up until her late teens when she was about to go to college. Her father was murdered in cold blood and her mother fell apart. She was left to take care of herself and her mother, and all her dreams were shattered. She is kidnapped and sold to someone she once knew and was in love with. Mikhail Romanov. He is an entirely different person now. But Marlowe is an angel and she can melt the hardest of hearts. They fall in love with each other, but with this romance comes a revelation of secrets that shatter Marlowe and all that's left of her is a woman that is filled with hatred and anger, and desperate for revenge.

Chloe never planned to fall for a stranger twice her age. It was supposed to be one reckless night. No promises. No consequences. Until two red lines on a pregnancy test strip changed her life forever. What she never saw coming was that Vasili Ivanov wasn’t just a stranger like she thought but her father’s best friend whom he had been trying to bring back into their lives. And worse. He was also her ex-boyfriend’s father. ***** “Don’t tell my Dad about what happened last night. I know you won’t and can’t but I just wanted to remind you,” I told him and he chuckled, stepping closer. “Who says I can’t? I am your godfather, remember I owe it to your Dad to tell him when his daughter is being… Naughty.” My pulse spiked as he brushed his thumb across my lower lip. I closed my eyes, savoring the touch and fighting the urge to kiss it. “You still can’t resist me and you want to get married to that boy?” He teased, his voice low and filled with amusement. “Stop. Doing that. Don’t come close to me, and don’t… Don’t touch me,” I said, stepping back even though every fiber in my body ached for him. He raised his hand in surrender, giving me space. I felt empty without him near, and I hated it. “I never seem to be able to keep anything from your Dad. He has that effect on me.,” He smiled slyly. “But I promise to stay silent… Under one condition.” ———- ⚠️ WARNING⚠️ This is an 18+ age-gap romance filled with forbidden attraction and extremely explicit sexual content, shocking revelations, and a love that could ruin them all. Readers discretion is strongly advised.

The day the Thorne family announced our engagement, the New York underworld let out a collective sigh of relief. Because I was set to marry Daemon, the most straitlaced Don in the city, which meant I could no longer be the wild rose who tore up the racetrack. But I resisted with every fiber of my being, finding creative ways to test his limits. During his ten-million-dollar card game with a rival family's Capo, my hand "slipped" and sent a bottle of 1945 Romanee-Conti spilling across the ancient map that outlined their territories, sabotaging the entire negotiation. Daemon, however, just slowly and deliberately wiped the wine from the back of his hand. He didn't even frown as he cleaned up my mess. Then I "accidentally" let my spirited Arabian stallion loose in his immaculately manicured courtyard. The beast went wild, trampling his prize-winning rose garden into mud. But he arrived with his private doctor in tow, crouching before me as his long fingers gently traced the scratch on my arm. "Did the beast hurt you?" Just that one question, and my heart melted completely. "Daemon, I can marry you. But before that, has there ever been another woman who owned your heart?" "I don't share my man. Not in any way." He pointed to his heart, his gaze unwavering as he met my eyes. "Before you, this was empty." After we married, the word on the street in New York's circles of power was this: If you angered Don Thorne, his Donna might plead your case. But if you angered the Donna, you were on your own. Even I began to believe that Daemon, that mountain of ice, would eventually melt for me. Until the day I went to find him, clutching a positive pregnancy test, bursting with joy. Only to hear the family's Consigliere ask him, from the top-floor study, what the best lie he'd ever told was. Daemon chuckled and said casually, "She asked me if anyone had my heart before her." "I told her no."