Novel & Cerita Is Destiny Real

Before our fifth mating anniversary, I was just about to tell my mate that I was about to inherit the pack my Alpha father left behind, when I saw him embracing and kissing the she-wolf who once bullied me. "This game has been going on for five years. It's time to end it." "Watching her come and go like a dog whenever called is really boring. What a fool. A fake mating certificate was enough to fool her completely. Did she really think an orphan like her could marry into the Shadowmoon Pack and become Luna? If she hadn't looked decent back then, I wouldn't have bothered with this charade." I felt like I'd fallen into an ice cave, sobbing uncontrollably. So the salvation that pulled me out of the bullying abyss was nothing but his amusing joke from beginning to end. If that's the case, I don't want this false love anymore.

Eden Blake never believed in fairy tales—especially not the kind that begin with a billionaire’s offer and end in a penthouse suite. But when a desperate night leads to a fake engagement with cold, ruthless CEO Cassian Wolfe, Eden signs on for one month of pretending, pretending she’s in love... and pretending she isn’t falling for him. The rules were simple. No touching. No real feelings. No strings attached. But in Cassian’s world of press scandals, public enemies, and hidden trauma, the line between fake and real quickly blurs. And when secrets come to light—and hearts get involved—Eden realizes the most dangerous thing about the deal… is that it might be real after all. In this steamy, emotional billionaire romance, hearts are currency, secrets are leverage, and love might be the most expensive risk of all.

When my older sister, Rhea Silverhilt, and I are given a chance to choose our marriage partners for the clan alliance, she rushes ahead and claims the noble fire dragon, Drakon Ragnarok. I am left to match with a brutish wolf, Flint Greyfang. Not long after the wedding, Drakon dies in an unexpected accident. Rhea loses her protector and is vulnerably subjected to scorn and abuse. Meanwhile, the sharp-minded and shrewd Flint reveals a surprising talent for business and swiftly amasses a fortune. Consumed by bitter hatred, Rhea corners me at the grand sacrificial rite and stabs me to death. When I open my eyes again, I am back on the day we are to choose marriage partners. This time, Rhea darts forward and holds Flint's hand. In that instant, I know that she's reborn, just as I am. What she doesn't know is that wolves are innately violent and abusive. They love settling disputes with fists.

One month before my wedding to my boyfriend, he announced he wanted to have a child with his "first love." I refused, but he brought it up every single day. Two weeks before the ceremony, I received a prenatal checkup report. That’s when I discovered his so-called "first love" was already nearly a month pregnant. It turned out he’d never intended to seek my consent at all. In that moment, years of affection evaporated like smoke. So, I canceled the wedding, destroyed every trace of our memories, and on what should have been our wedding day, I walked into a closed-off research lab. From then on, he meant nothing to me.

My family sold one of their properties to put me through school abroad. Nathan Kingsley and I had been together three years. Two of those were long-distance. Through those two years of me alone overseas, he never broke contact — airport pickups, long phone calls, every anniversary remembered. I'd never once doubted him. I thought distance hadn't beaten us. The day I flew home, he was waiting at Arrivals with a bouquet of flowers. He smiled and said, "Finally." We set the engagement date. We picked out the dress. We booked the reception. The day the wedding march began and I stood at the top of the aisle looking at him, I thought — these three years were worth every minute. Then the doors behind me opened. My sister walked into the chapel, in a white dress, and slid her arm through his. She smiled at me. "Sorry, sis. Those airport pickups? I'm the one who sent him. For the last three years, he's been mine the whole time."

"Everything was a lie; my name, my identity, my family, my life. Then what's the truth?" Follow Alisa Walker, an eighteen-year-old teenage girl, on her quest for discovering who she really is in a fictional world she never knew existed. As she proceeds, she realizes that nothing is what appears to be while struggling to make choices between love and life. Get on the wagon of ups and downs!

When my mother finally found the real heiress, she was on her knees selling shoes on the street. And to my surprise, I recognized her—she was none other than my fiancé's first love. Determined to oust me, the fake heiress, she played her part well, putting on a daily show to make me look bad. I was content to play along, enjoying our little game, until my fiancé’s offhand remark, “Was that really necessary?" shattered my composure. Fine, I thought, “You can keep this husband and family. I’ve got better things to do—like finding my real parents.”

Miaka Von Speltsper, the myth, the legend and the daughter of two Gods. Miaka, the Demon King and the head of the Dark Council is the most powerful demon ever known to mankind, but she has a secret. She’s a hybrid. And the world she lives in has hunted down and eliminated every single hybrid in all the dimensions. But now…someone knows her secret, someone who has the power to destroy her. However, the world is changing and one of those changes is Kaleb Takeshi, the man with extraordinary eyes who has stolen Miaka’s heart with just one glance. But there is something about Kaleb that Miaka can sense but can’t describe. And not only is he human, he’s an enemy who has decided to give his loyalty to her. In this world of lies, deceit and betrayal; can Miaka trust her heart or will she have to choose century’s old traditions to stay alive? Because if she dies, it will truly be the end of the world.

My husband, Malcolm Thorpe, has low sperm motility. After 33 rounds of IVF, I finally got pregnant. On delivery day, I start hemorrhaging, and the medical team calls for an emergency C-section. Malcolm signs the consent form, then rushes straight back to his childhood sweetheart's birthday party. But instead of starting the C-section, the surgeon says, "Ms. Jacobson, the electronic medical record lists you as single. This consent form isn't valid." I stop breathing for a beat. The happy marriage I believe in turns out to be a sham. Later, Mom and Dad rush in and sign the consent for me. But by then, the baby is gone. The asphyxia lasted too long. After surgery, I scrawl my name on the cremation consent with shaking hands, then dial a number without thinking. "Samuel, are you free now? Meet me in front of City Hall."

On the day my dad, the Don of the Capone family, comes to the orphanage to take me home, I show up in a tactical helmet and a bulletproof vest. "I'm not going home with you. You're definitely doing this to trick me into getting married to a perverted old geezer in a marriage alliance. I bet my adopted sister has made preparations to start fake-crying anytime by loading up on her eyedrops." My dad is amused, to say the least. "Why would any of that happen? Silvia is nothing but welcoming you to our home! Also, our family isn't a lowly organization that deals with human trafficking." But I refuse to believe my dad at all. On the way home, I keep typing something on my phone. My mom, the Donna, leans over curiously. "Are you writing a diary entry?" "Nope. I'm writing tips on 'How to Survive the Mafia.'" 1) My food will definitely be poisoned. 2) If I get close to a staircase, I'll definitely get pushed down the stairs. 3) I'll get framed for something that I've never done before. My parents swear to me that none of the things I've written will ever happen. They tell me that my adopted sister, Silvia Capone, has a great personality, and things are amicable in the family. However, everything changes when Silvia brings me a glass of juice before lunchtime and insists on watching me drink it. Instead, I dump the juice into a nearby vase of flowers. Just as my parents are about to scold me for wasting the juice, smoke begins drifting from the flowers inside the vase. Then, they start wilting rapidly. I calmly leave a bright red checkmark behind the "poison" tip. As my parents stare at the dead flowers, they can feel color draining from their faces. "You should send the juice to a chem lab for analysis."