Novel & Cerita How Long Was Sirius Black In Azkaban

Everyone in Moonveil Pack knew our Alpha, Eric, worshiped his Mate. When he loved, he went feral. To keep me—an infertile she-wolf—on the Luna throne, he once painted the Elder Council in blood. Stood in front of the whole pack and swore he hated pups. Said he'd end his own bloodline before he let me hurt. Yeah. That was his version of forever. Until my body changed. Then one day he walked into our territory holding a young she-wolf's hand—Velda—and built her a little love nest right next to our home. I asked for an explanation. "My pack needs an heir. You can't give me one." Velda smiled all sweet. The second he looked away, she flipped me off. "Zara, you're fat as a pig. What makes you think you can compete with me?" I looked at her young, perfect face and finally got it. Those vows? Not love. Just lust in a crown. I didn't cry. Didn't cause a scene. I called the witch through mind link. "Do it. Forcefully sever my mate bond with him." If he hated this body so much, then the thousandfold pain I'd held back for five years? Yeah. It was time to give it back.

Those were the initial days of her university when she saw him for the first time. She fell for him without talking to him even once. He was her 2 years senior. She clearly knows that he likes her too. She waits for him and 2 years passed. He graduates. She felt like she have to make a first move. But then she saw him with another girl. Her world was ripped apart and she made a decision. Loving him is a mistake and she closes her heart clearly knowing that there is no path in which they will again intervene each others' life. But she was wrong.

I was a wedding planner, and I personally designed my husband's wedding to his mistress. I had been with Victor for five years. Three of those years were swallowed by the pandemic. The remaining two were spent married, pregnant, and raising a child. The wedding I had always dreamed of existed only as "next time" whenever it came out of his mouth, until the day I received a new wedding planning request. The client was a young woman, her eyes curved with laughter, her smile bright and full of hope. "This is the venue my boyfriend chose himself," she said softly. "He insisted the wedding had to be held here." I took the file from her, and my gaze stopped on the venue name. The church in Clairmont. The very church I had mentioned to my husband countless times, the place I had dreamed of more than anything else. I was just about to smile and marvel at how someone in this world shared my taste so perfectly when the groom's name leapt into view. Victor Langford. My fingers froze on the page. Across from me, the girl was still wrapped in her happiness. She added gently, "We've only been together for two months, but he said he wants to give me the best wedding possible." I curved my lips into a smile and fixed my eyes on that familiar face—the man I had lived with for five years. After all this time, the day I planned Victor's wedding had finally arrived. Too bad the bride wasn't me.

Five years ago, Carla left her soul mate in their rumpled bed in a rented house in Mykonos, convinced she doesn’t deserve him, and he comes back to her life the secret lover of her best friend. Carla’s childhood friend Thera is visiting Greece after ten years, bringing Jake Winters with her, her boss whom she has been a long time secretly in love with. But Jake turns out to be Tom Sawyer, the pseudonym he used as a male escort five years ago – and he is still hotter than sin. It did not take long to see that the passion that drove them that blissful whole week together drives them still. He remains the only man who makes her feel that happiness is possible, but giving in to him means betraying her best friend, even though it’s evident that they aren’t lovers. That Thera made it all up. Billionaire programmer Jake Winters took over a gigolo trip for a friend once five years ago and that changed his whole life. But the culprit in doing so left him without a goodbye. When he finally finds Carla again, she turns out to be the childhood friend of his sweet secretary. As fierce as she is in bed, she is as loyal to people she cares about and he has to clear the air between him and Thera because the only thing he’s thinking about is becoming Carla’s gigolo again. For life. And as soon as possible. Like yesterday.

A premeditated scheme of exploitation stripped me of everything I had. An unforeseen encounter plunged me headlong into a swirling vortex of chaos. Betrayal, contracts, endless entanglements… As the gears of fate clicked into motion, a single sheet of agreement threw me back into the orbit of that person—yet he seemed to have erased every trace of me from his memory… Meanwhile, my ex’s relentless, suffocating pestering and life’s unyielding, brutal trials kept closing in, one after another.

I'm born with a curse, so I never speak another word since I'm old enough to be understanding. Since my six-year-old daughter, Jada Westfield, accidentally knocks over my sick older brother, Cain Westfield, my wife, Serena Harlow, sends her to a dog-training facility immediately. Jada has gotten bitten by dogs in the past, so she's extremely terrified of them. I do everything I can to stop Serena from sending Jada there—even resorting to groveling in front of her, my forehead sticky with blood—yet Serena never spares a glance in my direction. Instead, she helps Cain up to his feet and gently pats the dust off his pants. But the moment she speaks up, her voice is glacial and ruthless. "Don't think I can't tell that Jada did this because you've been secretly grooming her to do so. You're an extremely manipulative mute, after all. Your dirty blood courses through Jada's veins as well. If I don't start teaching her a lesson at an early age, she will eventually grow up as a pathetic loser. "I'm sending her to the facility so that she can learn the rules of this world. She will learn that seniority takes precedence over everything. This also serves as a lesson for you to never harm the person you aren't supposed to engage with!" I finally find Jada, who has gotten trapped in a cage filled with a dozen rabid mutts. Her body has already been torn into pieces. I suppress the pain in my heart as I put pieces of Jada together like a jigsaw puzzle. After more than 20 years, I finally utter my first sentence. "Serena Harlow, I want you to pay the price with your blood, and I want you to lose everything you have in life."

They said I was beautiful — but not real. That my smile was perfect — but my past made me broken. I spent years trying to prove I was more than the girl who changed her face to survive the world’s cruelty. I married Julian Vale, believing love would finally see me. I called Serena Blake my sister, trusting her more than my own reflection. And when my world collapsed under secrets, silence, and the weight of never being enough — I disappeared. Then I opened my eyes… Ten years earlier. Before the surgery. Before the vows. Before I forgot who I was beneath the makeup and the mask of confidence. This time, I don’t need to be fixed. This time, I don’t need to be forgiven. I remember every lie. Every betrayal. Every time I silenced my voice to keep the peace. So I’m not here to win back love. I’m not here to punish the past. I’m here to become the woman I was always meant to be — unedited, unafraid, and finally, completely seen. I was more than pretty. This time, I’ll live like I believe it.

Eight years ago, she sent the most dangerous man in New York to prison. Eight years later, he sat in a Cadillac parked by the Brooklyn Bridge, a cold smile on his face as he said, “A woman like you deserves to be alone.” No one knew she was sick with Alzheimer’s. It had gotten so bad that she could not even remember the way home. Yet, she remembered his face. She remembered every word he had ever said to her. She even remembered the star named “Christine.” On the first page of her diary, the same sentence was written over and over again. “Vincent Medici is the most important person in this world. No matter who I forget, I must never forget Vincent Medici.” She waited for him for eight years, but in the end, what she got was his indifference, news of his wedding, and him saying to her that someone like her did not deserve to be loved. She didn’t argue. Instead, on the last page of her diary, she quietly wrote, “That’s okay. I’m going to be with my mom now.” Amidst the five thousand streets in New York, he never found her again after that.

They buried her with lies... They mourned her with guilt... But Alira was never truly gone. When Alira discovers the affair between her sister and her husband,the man she once built her entire world around..confrontation turns to tragedy. Her life is stolen in a single, cruel moment but fate gives her what death denied: a second chance. Reborn in the past, before she ever said yes to his proposal, before she gave him her loyalty, her love... her power, Alira is no longer the devoted wife... She's the architect of vengeance. With every calculated step, she weaves a web of betrayal, seduction, and secrets. This time, she'll wear the dress not of a bride, but of a widow-to-be. And when the final match is lit, no one will be safe from the fire she’s come to unleash. In the ashes of the life they stole, she will build a funeral of flames.

Melissa Jones, the so-called 'fake' heiress, lost her memory trying to save me. Her memory was stuck at the time she was 18, back when our lives had not yet been set right. Everyone told me to be the bigger person. In the new family portrait, I was the only one missing. My biological mother tried to comfort me, "Shirley, be reasonable. It's just a photo. We will make it up to you later." I applied for the vice president position year after year, only to be rejected five times in a row. Then, when Melissa said she wanted to learn the business, my brother, Maverick Jones, approved it immediately. Afterward, he turned to me and said, "You should give way to Melissa. You're the reason she lost her memory. I'm helping you make up for it." When I went into labor and needed my husband, Charles Smith, to sign the consent for a C-section, he was one floor above me, accompanying Melissa to a follow-up appointment. I called him seven times. He declined every call. In the end, my seven-month-old baby suffocated. Even in a wheelchair, I went to demand an explanation. However, outside the hospital room, I heard Melissa crying. "Back then, you all agreed I should pretend to have amnesia. I'll never randomly decline calls for Charles again. I just want to stay by your side for three more months." There was a moment of silence. Then, Charles and the others agreed. At that moment, I was not angry. I just felt something inside me turn completely empty. I turned around and accepted my adoptive parents' request to return to Nebula City. This time, I would give these people what they wanted.