Novel & Cerita Forsaken Noob Fanart

The cut-off sleeves exposed her shoulders, framing her delicate, heart-shaped face and emphasizing the striking beauty of her features. Haven's makeup, though still dark, had been transformed into a masterpiece of elegance and sophistication. The shimmery hues danced across her skin, lending an air of mystique to her already enigmatic presence. But it was the tattoos on her forearms that truly caught my attention. The intricate patterns depicted the four elements. Earth, Air, Fire, and Water, in perfect harmony, as if the very essence of nature had been distilled into these delicate, swirling designs. The elements were intertwined in vines, a symbol of the balance and unity that the Forsaken

he said coldly before walking away. I stared at his back as he walked away from me before sniffling into the handkerchief and it had his scent on it. It was calming but it couldn't take away the hurt in my heart. I trudged home, tears streaming down my face. As a Forsaken, I was no stranger to heartache. Our kind was abandoned by the Moon goddess, left to suffer in silence and be mistreated. We forsaken were the least in the pack and often referred to as low grade. Forsakens were a breed of omegas that didn't go through heat, but I was probably the only exception, except that I had kept it a secret.

The housemaids got rid of yesterday's flowers replacing them with fresh ones from Momma's garden. I love flowers, cherished them and always enjoyed their fresh scent. Every morning after bath I would get my nose close to the flowers in my vase just to get the sweet aroma. By nine o'clock, Angy, my bridal makeup artist, had arrived with her team. As some of Angy's assistants took care of my mother and bridesmaids team, I sat by my dressing table, waiting for Angy to start working on my face.

“Neither did I.” Before Aiden could respond, James returned, holding an old, tattered book. “I found something,” he said, his voice urgent. “There’s a section here about the ‘sacred marks.’ It says they appear when an ancient bond is disturbed, usually a bond that was never meant to be broken.” “What does that mean?” I asked, my heart pounding in my chest. James’s eyes darted between Aiden and me, his expression grim. “It means the rejection didn’t sever the bond. It only made it stronger.”

She glanced at me like it hurt to do so,and at that point it seemed her upper lip was always perpetually curled up–her nose wrinkled–whenever she stared at me. “Scorpion tattoos,” she said, no longer looking at me but at an empty space between us. “They seemed familiar,” Harris muttered. “Thank goodness I was able to bring one of them home with us.” I bolted up from my seat before I could stop myself, immediately feeling the judgemental stares of the family as they watched me curiously. “Um…I wanna see him,” I gave a shaky smile. “Is he in the house?” The alpha was the only one who nodded in response. “He is, we're going to get more answers from.”

"My daughter suffered humiliation in that savage tribe for five years! I'll wipe Blackrock off the map!" "There's no need." I stood up, my silver hair shimmering in the moonlight. "It's all over." But the spiritual link I’d severed with my secret arts would only last seven days. It was already the sixth. That night, I knelt in the deepest part of the Moon Goddess temple. "Great Moon Goddess, I beg you, completely sever this fated bond." The moonlight suddenly blazed, and a majestic voice echoed, "A fated bond cannot be severed. It is an imprint on your very souls."

It wasn’t until nearing the end that the quality of the items started to climb again. "Next up is the debut work of the contemporary famous painter Rebecca—‘The Stars Don’t Fall,’ starting at one million!" When the host announced this, the previously dull venue stirred instantly. Many socialite daughters craned their necks in anticipation. Rebecca, the artist, was a mysteriously low-key figure. At sixteen, she painted The Stars Don’t Fall, capturing the joys and sorrows of being human. The masterpiece cleverly uses the starry sky to express a yearning for family and the loneliness that has no outlet, encapsulating the complex emotions of adolescence.

I clicked the lighter, and a flame flared to life. The name "Ryan Hurst" twisted in the fire until it curled into ash. The last edge singed my fingertip before I let it go and watched the page drop into the trash bin. Arthur came to my side and wrapped a warm arm around my shoulders. I looked at Emily, fast asleep on the couch. For the first time, I felt truly at peace. The past was dead to me now. From now on, only happiness lay ahead.

There he was. Ronan. Alpha of the Ashfang pack. Towering. Wet. Dripping. A towel slung low on his hips like it belonged there, casually disrespecting every ounce of self-control I had left. His abs were carved from stone. His waist? Unfair. A tattoo curled around his arm and crept slightly over his chest, like it had a story it was dying to whisper. I didn’t even want to think about how good he looked soaked and glistening like a forbidden rain god. “I—I—I saw nothing!” I yelped, clamping my eyes shut like that could erase what had just burned itself into my memory.

"This is Marcus Reeves. He's... well, he's complicated." "I'm the closest thing Pinehaven has to an Alpha," Marcus said, his voice rough with years of smoking. "Which means I'm the one who has to deal with the mess when people ignore very simple warnings." His eyes dropped to my throat, where the collar had shifted, revealing the edge of the pendant. "Fuck. She actually bonded with him." "Language," I said automatically, glancing at Ezra. The café did indeed have a play area—a corner filled with toys and books and a TV playing cartoons. Ezra made a beeline for it, and I watched him go with the irrational fear that something might snatch him the moment I looked away.