Grand Ancestral Bloodlines

When Father asks me who I want to marry, I resolutely give up on Prince Maurice Swain. I choose to marry his uncle, Prince Gideon Swain. Father is confused. After all, everyone in the capital knows that I'm desperately in love with Maurice. I've said more than once that he's the only man I'll marry. I only have a bitter taste in my mouth. I married Maurice in my past life, and I gave my all in managing the household. Yet he never came home and even took a mistress behind my back. When I eventually became bedridden after wearing myself out, he brought Camilla Chapman back and threw her a grand wedding. The children they'd secretly had together came with her. It was only then that I realized the tonics Maurice had given me had rendered me infertile and weak. They slowly ate away at me from the inside. I watched as Maurice and Camilla lived a happy life with their children. I chose to let them have what they wanted. Now that I've been reborn, I'm going to stay away from Maurice and marry Gideon instead. Yet when Maurice finds out, he goes berserk. He stands before me with his eyes bloodshot as he forbids me from marrying Gideon.

"I, Alec Tawr of Lunar Crest pack, reject you, Elara Wildewood, of Lunar Crest pack," he utters, his voice cutting through the silence. The words sear into my soul, and my heart shatters, broken pieces scattering within me. The pain consumes me, wrapping its icy tendrils around my spirit. “Why?” I ask, letting out a painful cry as my knees give away and I collapse to the floor. Does he think that I agreed to marry Prince Magnus willingly? That I don’t wish to be with him? “Why?” I repeat. He blinks and I see him shiver as he clenches his jaw. “Just accept the rejection, El. Make it stop,” he says, his voice sharp and hard. I allow myself to cry, letting the tears cascade down my cheeks until I’m a sobbing mess. “I can’t. I want you.” He clutches his chest and I hate to see him hurting. “It’s not possible. Please accept the reception.” And so I do it. “I, Elara Wildewood of Lunar Crest pack, accept your rejection.” ---- Elara Wildewood knows her life is doomed when she is forced to step in as the substitute bride for Magnus Blackwell, the disabled and cruel Prince of Caelondor. After she is rejected by her mate, she has no choice but to accept her fate. However, after she's wed, she finds out that the truth is not as it seems and the grand palace of Caelondor holds a lot more intrigue and secrecy than she anticipated earlier. Trapped in a web or lies and deception, Elara decides to take control of her life and trains to become stronger. As she gains the admiration of her court, she also attracts the Prince attention's who will stop at nothing to keep her safe.

Alison, raised and educated in genetic mutation laboratories, is finally able to feel the long-awaited sensation of freedom when an accident occurs at Corfin's facilities. Upon being in the new world for the first time, Alison finds herself lost in society and does not mind being hostile to anyone who may refer her to danger and imprisonment. Freedom for her is not having someone to repress or command another, it is the right to do her will and desire, and when she sees that the new world does not suit her precepts, her wild side wakes up calling the attention of the authorities in the region. Alison Seventh-B.Corfin isn't going to hand herself over and be the meek wolf she was in her sector, she's going to destroy anyone who wants to imprison her again, not caring if the being smells amazingly like oranges and azaleas. x Patrick Bouvier has to prove to his people that he is capable and worthy of leading one of the two remaining ancestral packs, but he didn't know that the test for this would be dealing with the problems that his mate brought him. What can he do to save her from herself? And what will he have to do to save her from her kind, or vice versa? His partner is in danger and family dramas for both will erupt to further complicate things in the midst of a pre-collapse of the peace treaty. What will come out of it all?

My grandfather is a nationally renowned inheritor of an intangible cultural heritage. Today, I'm supposed to attend a grand ceremony as his rightful successor. However, when I arrive, I see my father's adoptive daughter already standing on the stage. She's dressed to the nines. She holds an award and is giving a thank-you speech, looking moved. In the past, I would've left without saying anything or speaking up for myself. Too bad for her that I'd been reborn. The discrepancy between our statuses is so large that we're basically from different worlds. Yet she has the nerve to claim to be my grandfather's successor and put on a show with what is supposed to be my family's.

After my 99th confession, my childhood best friend, Michael Leight, finally says yes. I am overjoyed, believing that my years of unrequited love have finally paid off. But when I walk past the pantry, I overhear him speaking tenderly to our family chef, Tahlia Duvey. "Once I take everything from the Kingstons, I'll kick that idiot Ariel to the curb and throw us a grand wedding. Everything here will be yours." My heart feels like a sword has been plunged into it. That night, I storm into Grandpa's study and point at a photo of the Gordon family's heir—Charles, known for always keeping his distance from women. "Grandpa! I want to marry him!" I announce.

Oubliez les "tout les oppose mais ils s'aiment", on part sur un gros "ils s'aiment et putain ça va faire mal" Axelle Lyce a 22 ans, elle habite seule à New-York et elle est dépressive. Toute sa vie elle a eu l'impression de n'être qu'une toute petite flamme, si minuscule qu'on pourrait l'éteindre d'un souffle, ballottée de droite à gauche et qui se force à briller de tout son éclat pour ne pas montrer à quel point elle est fragile. Une toute petite flamme qui va rencontrer l'essence. /!\ VULGARITE EXTRAIT *Mon pied part en direction de son ventre mais il le bloque avec une agilité déconcertante et le rejette, me faisant chanceler. Je commence à penser que je suis vraiment débile. Il balance son poing vers mon épaule. Je pare sans difficulté mais son autre main vient s'écraser violemment dans mes côtes. Aïe ! Je perds l'équilibre et manque de tomber. Contrairement à ce que je m'attendais, il n'en profite pas pour attaquer et se remet docilement en garde. Mon flanc me lance douloureusement. Je lui jette un regard noir. « T'en as déjà marre ? Me nargue-t-il. » Décidément, il a l'air de bien s'amuser. Cette fois, je n'ai plus envie de jouer. Je lui prépare un de mes coups favoris. D'abord, le poing au menton. Il esquive sans problème mais ne voit pas mon coude arriver dans sa mâchoire. Puis un grand coup de pied en plein torse pour le faire reculer. Il vacille et porte ses mains à son visage. Puis il me regarde de nouveau, surpris. Je ne résiste pas à l'envie de le provoquer un peu. « Et toi ? » Il ne tarde pas à retrouver son sourire.

I was growing up as the much-hated "fake heiress" in a wealthy family, and my life took a devastating turn after my death. My childhood friend who lived next door leaked my nudes online, branding me as manipulative and promiscuous. This ignited public outrage, with strangers celebrating my demise at my family's home. My parents, eager to sever any connection with me, destroyed our mansion that very night, even going so far as to feed my ashes to the dog. Everyone said I deserved it. On the day the true heiress married my childhood friend in a grand, live-streamed wedding, I gave them a unique wedding present from beyond the grave.

Zalaria Azuelo was bored when she accepted the offer of her father to be a proxy of her stepsister who was sick in exchange for five million. She got into the masquerade party with the fiancé of her stepsister— the hot and notorious billionaire not just inside but also outside of the country. The night was good. He was a gentleman. The night went deep and they both got drunk... Zalaria had a discreet night with the billionaire. She knew what they did was wrong and would cause ruckus to the Azuelo family, so she ran away right after knowing that she was pregnant. She raised her twins outside the country. However, she only got two years to live a normal life. She needed to leave her children to go back to the Philippines for her job. Alari, the baddass assassin is back and for her grand mission, she got three months to kill the head of the leading security company in different continents— Ruan Alanis Davion, the father of her children.  Would Zalaria succeed on her mission? Or she would get into a trap for an another discreet night with the billionaire?

Seven years ago, one night inside a hotel suite changed everything. Luna Herrera-an honor student struggling to survive college-never imagined that a single assignment at the Blackwell Grand Hotel would cost her everything. In one heartbreaking night, her innocence was stolen by a man too powerful to remember... and too untouchable to confront. Damon Blackwell-billionaire heir to the Blackwell Empire-is feared, admired, and dangerously controlled. But behind his cold success lies a night he cannot recall, and dreams that whisper of a woman he may have broken without knowing. Now a licensed psychologist and a single mother, Luna lives quietly with her six-year-old son, Callyx-his gray eyes the only link to a past she tried so hard to bury. Damon, on the other hand, is unraveling. Public breakdowns. Family pressure. And an ultimatum that forces him to seek therapy... under a false name. When fate brings them face to face-patient and doctor, unknowingly connected by a secret neither of them is ready to confront-can the truth stay buried? Or will six weeks after midnight come back to rewrite everything?

Quelque part dans Menel Ara, une jeune femme lève les yeux vers la Haute-Ville. Elle a vu les images de l’exécution publique, la veille. Elle a vu le visage irrité de Youri Komniev. Elle a vu aussi la tentative d’assassinat dont lui et les autres chefs de Grandes Familles ont fait l’objet.A côté d’elle, deux hommes discutent. Ils soutiennent les Martyrs et ont le sourire. C’est rare. Un peu plus loin, un groupe vêtu de robes vert et blanc se presse vers le Grand Ascenseur. Ce sont des Putras, et ils ont l’air inquiets. C’est perturbant.Prise d’un frisson, la jeune femme relève son col et reprend son chemin. Une tempête couve…