Is Superman Immortal Novels & Stories

It was a taboo… An attraction that should have been forbidden from the start. But he was gorgeous, sinfully attractive and insanely seductive. How was she supposed to resist him when those eyes made her skin burn? How was she supposed to walk away when his presence intoxicated her like a drug? Silver-streaked hair, full sleeve tattoos, piercings above those slashed brows and those mesmerizing seafoam eyes that made her whimper with every glance, Roman was her biggest fantasy. A forbidden fruit she couldn't even look at, unless… He offered her a taste. Even at that, there were so many ways this could go wrong… especially when he was married to another.

In my past life, I was a rare treasure: the only she-wolf capable of bearing a pureblood werewolf heir. That singular gift made me a prize, claimed by Leon, the Alpha of the formidable Silvermoon Pack in North America. Leon's ambition burned with the desire for a child. A pureblood heir, he believed, would secure his ascension to President Alpha—the supreme leader of all North American Lycan packs. But fate, as it often does, twisted his expectations. After ten long months, I birthed a pup with gray fur and gray eyes which was different to the golden-marked purebloods. By all standards, a low-ranking wolf. Simultaneously, my sister Eve, wedded to the rival Seurin Pack, delivered a golden-furred, golden-eyed pureblood. Leon's dream of becoming President Alpha shattered in an instant. From that moment, he harbored a strong hatred for me and my pup. He forced wolfsbane down our throats and ended our lives with a silver blade in a cold merciless way. Only in my dying breath did the horrifying truth reveal itself: my own sister had stolen my gift—the ability to bear purebloods—using dark magic, claiming it as her own. Now, I am reborn. I find myself reliving the day Leon and Seurin arrived to propose marriage. Just as before, Leon chose my sister Eve without hesitation. I saw it in his eyes—he remembers everything. He, too, has been reborn. But this time, I possess the knowledge. Without me, he will never father a pup—not pureblood, not even half-blood. Not even a mutt.

For three years, Evelyn lived a lie wrapped in luxury. Her marriage to the cold and powerful Lucian Blackwood was supposed to be a mere business arrangement—a thirty-six-month contract to save her family from ruin. But as the days turned into years, the lines between duty and desire blurred. Evelyn fell for the man who remembered her favorite meals, protected her from the cold, and ensured her medicine was always at hand. She believed that beneath his obsidian gaze, a real heart had begun to beat for her. The illusion shatters on the night of their third anniversary at the Blackwood Estate. With the stroke of midnight and the smell of acrid smoke, Lucian presents her with the Decree of Divorce. The crushing truth is revealed: every gesture of affection, every moment of "domestic bliss," was never about Evelyn. It was a lingering habit from his past with Sarah, his first love who has finally returned to the city. Evelyn wasn't a wife; she was a rehearsal.

On their engagement day, her fiancé cheated with her sister, and pushed her down the stairs even though she was pregnant!Five years later, Charmine Jiang made an impactful return, rooted with a deep hatred for scumbags. She was cold-hearted, ready to fight for the family money, eyed to become a supermodel. She was ready to stun the world.Although she was determined to make her own money for revenge, hordes of men still insisted on helping her, spoiling her.“Who offended my lady? Get the gears ready!”“AK999 ready, I’ve got the scumbags! Dad, Mom, please bring me a little sister!”

"Is that pussy still aching for me?" Roman breathed, his thumb tracing dangerously close without landing. "Two years of being ignored and one touch from me has you soaking through your pretty little underwear." "I hate you," I whispered, even as my hips chased his hand. "No you don't." His eyes locked on mine, dark and certain. "You hate that your husband never once made you feel this way. You hate that it's his brother who knows exactly how to ruin you." He was right and I hated him for it. ********** It shouldn't have been Roman touching me, consuming me and making me scream things I couldn't take back. He was reckless, unapologetic and completely wrong for me. He was also my husband's brother. Yet one look from him dismantled two years of careful composure. One touch and every reason to stop dissolved into nothing. I should have walked away the night he found me on that couch. Instead I said yes. And Roman Clarke never stopped collecting on that answer. This is not your normal spicy, I am here to remind you that some cravings are worth every consequence.

“When we grow up, you should fall in love with me, woo me, propose to me, marry me, and love and cherish me for the rest of your life. You must treat me like a Queen.” Lil told the brooding, handsome boy. “But these are all the things I should do. What will you do?” Nat asked the chirpy little girl in front of him. “I will grow up to be an outstanding lady and give you a happy family so you can smile every day,” She replied matter-of-factly. Thirteen years later, on the day of their marriage, he whispered to her, “Did you think you could be my wife because you schemed and trapped me into this? You can enjoy the vacant position of Mrs. Smith that you covet so much. But you will never have a place in my heart and life.” She disappeared the day after their marriage. What will happen when they cross paths seven years later as spouses turned strangers turned business partners? He has already forgotten he was even married. But she could never forget him, try as she may. But she has her secrets to protect and can’t tell him who he is to her as he tries to navigate his feelings.

It was the tenth year of the Mechanical Civilization. My girlfriend, who always spoiled her brother to an unreasonable extent, orchestrated my death. Luckily, I was reborn seven days before the arrival of the machines. I bought a heavy-duty truck and evolved the strongest mecha. Close-combat mecha, long-range mecha, weapons, shields, funnels, modules… This time, I wanted the best of everything. My name is Victor Wild. Born to be a victor, born to be wild.

… Her pack had betrayed him and she needed to pay. She was going to pay! He let go of her hair and grabbed the back on her neck, his eyes trailed down to her exposed neck and collar bone. The princess dress she had on showed a lot of that caused him to gulp nervously. His twitched in his trousers, the butterflies in his stomach rose. He buried his face in her neck and inhaled her sweet pheromone. Reign quivered in fear. Electric sparks exploded in her body when she felt his lips brush against her collarbone, down to her that was exposed. “Please…” she cried, but he didn’t stop. He raised his hand and placed them on her firm , causing her to jolt in fear. He squeezed the left and circled her hidden in the fabric of the dress with his rough fingers. Pain seared through her as he kept squeezing her and trailing hot down her . Reign could only cry and wish that it would and soon. “Hermione Reign Angelis.” He called her full names as he backed away from her, his voice void of any emotions. Reign crawled backwards on her , trying to get away from the tyrant, but stopped when her back hit a hard surface behind her. It was the wall. There was definitely no running away from her oppressor. “Your parents orchestrated the assassination of my beloved mother and even after that, they have the audacity to deny it to my face…”. She is his mate turned slave… will he able to look past his hatred for her and see who the true enemy is?

Serene’s heart raced as she stood in Nicholas’s dimly lit study, the scent of leather and whiskey heavy in the air. She’d been dusting the bookshelves when he entered, his presence filling the room like a storm. Now, he stood inches away, his black suit hugging his broad shoulders, his dark mullet framing a gaze that burned with intent. “You missed a spot,” he murmured, his voice a low growl, pointing to a shelf she’d already cleaned. Her cheeks flushed as she turned, the hem of her maid uniform riding up her thighs. “I-I’ll get it, Mr. Volkov,” she stammered, reaching up, but his hand caught her wrist, firm yet gentle. “No,” he said, stepping closer, his breath warm against her ear. “Let me show you.” His fingers slid down her arm, leaving a trail of heat, before guiding her hand to the shelf. His chest pressed against her back, and she gasped at the hardness of his body, the evidence of his arousal unmistakable. “You’re trembling, little maid,” he whispered, his lips brushing her neck, sending shivers down her spine. “Do I scare you… or do I excite you?” Her breath hitched as his free hand trailed up her thigh, slipping beneath the lace of her uniform. “Mr. Volkov…” she whimpered, but her protest melted into a moan as his fingers found her, teasing her through the thin fabric of her panties. “ Nicholas,” he corrected, his voice rough with desire, his touch growing bolder, circling her most sensitive spot until her knees buckled. “Say it,” he demanded, nipping her earlobe. “N-Nicholas,” she gasped, her body arching into him, surrendering to the fire he’d ignited. In that moment, the billionaire and his naive maid were bound by a hunger neither could deny.

The most powerful Godfather in the mafia underworld—Dante Costello—had an expensive diamond signet ring custom-made to fit my finger perfectly and sent straight to our home. He said that whoever could wear the ring would become the lady of his family. The Monroe family had long since fallen from grace. All that remained were four women. On ordinary days, we fought endlessly, tearing each other apart. Every single one of us wanted to marry Dante because marrying him meant preserving a life of dignity and comfort. In the first life, the fake heiress, Blair, secretly had the ring resized smaller and married into the family. Dante took one look at her, then had her thrown into the river to drown. “Not her.” In the second life, my cousin, Chloe, underwent plastic surgery to alter her fingers and force the ring on. Dante gifted her a staged car accident. “Still not her.” In the third life, my stepmother, Catherine, clenched her teeth and forced the ring onto her finger. Her blood hadn’t even dried when she married Dante. He coldly slashed her face, then locked her in the basement, where she slowly wasted away until death. By the fourth life, all three of them were terrified. None of them dared to marry him anymore, so they hurriedly pushed me forward instead. I put on the ring. This time, the size was perfect. Just when I thought my good days had finally begun, Dante stabbed me to death on our wedding night, his eyes burning red with madness. After my rebirth, the consigliere of the Dante family delivered the ring once again. This time, all four of us avoided it like the plague.