Kerbeus Beyblade Burst

We had been married for three years, yet my husband, Richard Thornton, who suffered from touch deprivation syndrome, still refused to consummate our marriage. Every time his condition flared up, he would only press his forehead tightly against the curve of my neck. I assumed he was saving himself for his first love, the woman who had left years ago. Then, I overheard him talking to his friends. "Stop teasing her next time. It makes her tense up every time." "Got it, Richard. But if you care about Valeria so much, why won't you touch her? It's been three years. Aren't you worried she'll leave you for someone else?" Richard shook his head. "You don't understand. The longer we're together, the harder it is to control myself around her. She's so delicate. I'm terrified I'll hurt her. As long as she's mine, I wouldn't care even if she slept with someone else first." His friends burst out laughing. "Richard, you're all talk. If you could really handle her being with another man, you wouldn't keep running to the hospital. You think we don't know what you're up to?" The next day, I found Richard's medical records. Visit after visit, he kept asking the same question, "How can I be gentler in bed? I don't want to hurt the woman I love."

For three hundreds under vampire rule, the Blood Prince has drawn a new bride from his realms every fifty years. In my previous life, Seraphina was chosen,Lucian’s childhood sweetheart. The night before our bonding ceremony, she burst into our chamber, tears streaming. “Lucian, I’ve been chosen as the Blood Prince’s seventh bride!” she sobbed. “They say he loses control on his wedding night, drains every drop of blood from his bride. None of the first six lived to see dawn. I don’t want to die—please, claim me as your mate!” But Lucian had already claimed me. And by wolf law, an Alpha may bind only one mate at a time. So I step forward, and refused her. The next day, at the altar, Seraphina slit her throat with a silver dagger. Lucian didn’t flinch. He ordered the blood scrubbed from the stones—and proceeded with our ceremony as nothing had happened. However,on our honeymoon, he pushed me into starving wolves. His eyes burned crimson as he snarled, “If you hadn’t tricked me into marking you earlier, Seraphina would be alive. You killed her.” Over a dozen of wolves with gleaming eyes swarmed me in, tore me limb from limb. Then I woke, back on the day the mate-hunger hex seized Lucian. This time, I dragged Seraph-the girl Lucian cherished as most precious jewel,from her house myself, and shoved her into Lucian’s chamber. “Be his cure, and I’ll take your place as the Blood Prince’s bride instead.

On the night of our ninth wedding anniversary, my husband—Damian Grant, the man who ruled the mafia by day and once ruled my heart by night—did not bring me roses. He gave the bouquet that should have been mine to Serena Lane, his personal assistant. Beneath the chandelier where we once danced on our wedding night, he turned to me with that same cold charm he once used to whisper sweet nothings in my ear. “She's pregnant.” Finally, everything fell into place. “She's a picky eater. From today onward, you’ll cook three meals a day for her. And no repeats. “She’s sensitive and hates sleeping alone, so you’ll need to move your things into the guest room.” The room fell silent. I did not raise my voice, nor did I shed a single tear. I simply picked up my packed suitcase and walked to the door. The butler tried to stop me, but Damian did not even blink. “She’ll come back.” He lazily swirled the wine in his glass. “She’ll come back crying and begging within three days.” Our guests burst out laughing. They placed a million-dollar bet right in front of me. They were betting on whether I would be back before the night was over, begging Damian to let me back in like a pathetic stray dog with my tail between my legs. However, they did not know I had already received the family heirloom from my real father. I booked my flight to get far, far away from everyone I used to know. This time, I really left.

My fated mate, Sebastian Grant, was the most brilliant healer on the continent. Specializing in treating wolfsbane, he had saved countless of our kind. To everyone else, he was a miracle walking among us. But he had a childhood friend and fellow apprentice, Sabrina Jordan. If Sebastian was famous for curing poison, then Sabrina was infamous for creating it. For years, she studied toxins while he developed antidotes. They worked so closely together that the pack slowly stopped distinguishing danger from jokes. That was until the day she tested a new kind of wolfsbane on me and I almost died. When I woke up, Sebastian was sitting beside my bed, writing a prescription for me. "Christina, don't blame Sabrina. My mentor and I have spoiled her. She knew I'd be able to cure you, so she was just messing around. She never meant to hurt you." He said it so casually, as if I had caught a cold. Not as if my organs had been failing and I had been a breath away from death. Before I could respond, someone burst into the room shouting that Sabrina had poisoned herself. Sebastian stood up and rushed out at once, his steps hurried and almost frantic. He never noticed that my prescription was missing a key herb. Just like that, the antidote that was supposed to save me became a poison that quietly sped up my death. That was when the Moon Goddess spoke inside my mind. [You can only return to the human world if you die at the hands of your fated mate. But are you sure you want this?] I lowered my gaze to the prescription in my hand, the ink still fresh. Sebastian himself had written it. The same hands that saved countless lives had just written the final prescription that would end mine. "I'm sure," I whispered.

In the second year after dropping out of school, I decide to cosplay as a dancer and stage a chance encounter with my husband, Don Vincenzo Rossi, in order to give him a surprise. However, I happen to run into my old classmates in the club. When they see me pole dancing in a skimpy outfit, they burst into laughter immediately. Tatiana Lazzari, the one who's throwing the party and was my former bully at school, mocks me for being a lowly, slutty bitch. My ex-boyfriend, Cristian Paleno, who had cheated on me with Tatiana back then, has his brows drawn into a tight frown. He seems to feel sorry for me. "If you didn't insist on breaking up with me back then, Aria, you wouldn't have gotten reduced to having to work as a stripper." In order to spice up the party, they drag me into their private room and force me to strip in front of them. When I reject them, they dump all sorts of alcohol and beverages onto my exposed skin and my thin, skimpy clothes. Then, they force me to kneel between Cristian's legs in submission. As Cristian leans in close to my ear, I can see the lust brimming in his eyes. "Come back to me, Aria. Otherwise, you can only remain as a horny bitch for the rest of your life." Out of sheer jealousy and rage, Tatiana kicks me in the gut right away. That's when Vincenzo hurries to my side and scoops me into his arms. By then, I'm in so much pain that I'm all curled up. He then glares at everyone else, whose faces have gone white from terror. "How dare you harm my wife and our unborn child! You can forget about leaving this room today!"

“I now pronounce you as a husband and wife. You may kiss the bride!” The priest announced and I froze. I knew I was cursed the moment this blood oath was taken which bound me to hell, the hell of this Sinner. My eyelids raised to see the ugly creation of god. My husband! Vladimir Sokolov! His rugged face carved with uncountable ugly marks stung my slow beating heart. His hazel green eyes held a satisfied dark shadow as He pulled me close, raised my chin and whispered coldly, “From this very moment, you share the crown of Bratva’s pakhan. Prepare yourself to bear its weight, Babochka. Because I own your existence now!” He slammed his cold lips on my trembling ones, punishing me with a brutal kiss. Tears pricked my eyes with disgust but I tolerated his touch for the sake of my family. My eyes followed the part of the audience, Russians, who burst into cheers while the other party, Italians, looked at me with remorse and pitiful gazes. Oh yes, how could I forget I was the sacrificed lamb thrusted into hell to get scorched for a lifetime. But No. I still had the last hope to save myself from this cursed fate, this cursed marriage. ………….. Born in a sin will definitely be called the Sinner. Without morality and mercy, Vladimir Sokolov the Bratva’s Pakhan ruled the city with an iron fist. Due to the influence of some political parties He had to marry the Daughter from La Camorra. Rose Barbieri! Marry her, have his heir and wear the title of family man, that's what He planned to do but what He didn’t imagine was that his innocent, submissive wife was someone who would burn the flames of his hell into ashes one day.

“I paid you! Why do you keep stalking me, then?” She burst out, while glancing at the door as if she was expecting someone to come in and save her. Not that she needed any saving though. I placed both hands on the table, and leaned down towards her. “We fucked.” My lips curled. Her face colored crimson. “It was a nightstand. Adults have one nightstands all the time. Moreover, I paid you-” “I’m not other people, Inez Raymond,” I said, cutting off her words. “Let’s make a deal.” Interest sparked within her eyes, yet she eyed me cautiously. “What deal?” “That you'll agree to be my wife for three months. If you don't fall in love with me during that period, I'll let you be.” She hesitated. “No sex?” I smirked. “I can't promise that. So, what do you say?” She took a deep breath. “Okay.” *** In her drunken and broken hearted haze, Inez Raymond has a one nightstand with a stranger. She pays him off the next morning, and part ways with him. But then, he starts stalking her. When he forces her into a deal with him, she agrees. What she doesn't know is that the stranger was connected with her in ways she could never imagine. Nor was she aware that she was the only heiress of the most powerful family in Europe, second only to the Celvins. While she's determined not to fall in love with him within three months, he's determined to make her fall in love with him, to find out who made her lose her memory years ago, while helping her get revenge on her ex-husband. Who will emerge champion, in their little game of chess?

After the car accident, I was gravely injured. I begged my wife, Susie Rogers, to take me to the hospital. Instead, her face darkened, and she ordered someone to lock me inside a sauna heated to 180 degrees. The reason was simple: her brother-in-law, Chester Tucker, was scheduled for an appendectomy that day. To make sure I would not undergo surgery at the same time as him, she had me injected with a hundred coagulant shots. No matter how desperately I pleaded for her to save me, she remained unmoved. Ninety-nine needles pierced my body, each one intensifying the agony of my already severe injuries. The hundredth injection, she administered herself. Looking down at me in my misery, she said calmly, "Chester has had a hard enough life since losing his wife. As his sister-in-law, I'm only looking out for him. You weren't satisfied with driving him overseas; now you even staged a car accident to get surgery before him? "It seems I've spoiled you too much. That's why you dare to pull something like this. "The doctor said that with the injections and the high heat, your pain and bleeding would be controlled. Once Chester's surgery is done, you can have yours." In that moment, my heart turned to ash. When Chester's operation succeeded, Susie burst into tears of relief and even set off celebratory fireworks to mark his 'new beginning.' Later, as she watched him leave the hospital fully recovered, she finally remembered me and ordered someone to take me there. However, before they could, her assistant called. "The hospital has asked you to come and claim Mr. Lynch's…body."

While enrolling my son in an elite school, the administrator suddenly tells me my marriage certificate is forged. "According to our records, your marital status is listed as single." "But I've been married to my husband, Chandler Leighton, for seven years!" Behind me, other parents waiting in line burst out laughing mockingly. "Did she just say Chandler Leighton? She must be dreaming." Amid their ridicule, I leave and head straight to the city hall for a confirmation. And as a wife of seven years, my marital status in the system is stated as "Single". A cold dread washes over me as I press. "Who is Chandler Leighton's legal wife?" The clerk flatly spats out a name, "Heather Hammington." It was that name again! I rush home, ready to confront Chandler, but pause just outside the door when I hear voices inside. "It's been seven years, Mr. Leighton. Do you still have no plans to grant Mrs. Leighton a legal status?" After a lengthy pause, Chandler finally answers, "Just wait a little longer. Heather lost both her parents… I'm the only one who can help her, so she needs this title." "What if Mrs. Leighton finds out?" "Danielle loves me too much to leave, even if she finds out. Once Heather has established her foothold in the business industry, I'll make it official with Danielle and give her a true marriage certificate." He sounds so certain, unaware that I'm standing just outside the door with tears streaming down my face. "You'll be disappointed, you liar." I take out my phone and dial a number I haven't called in years. "Mom, I accept the Atwoods' marriage arrangement."

His hand pressed flat against the door before I could pull it open, and the warmth of him behind me made my body go completely still. "You are the mother of my child and you belong to me, and every breath you take on this island exists because I allow it."His hand moved from the door to my jaw, tilting my face up toward his with a gentleness that made me gulp. "So tell me, my beautiful wife—where exactly do you think you're going?" I had no answer and a knowing smile pulled on his lips. *** Elsie Miller’s simple life unravels the moment she discovers she is pregnant with no memory of how it happened. In a small town where reputation is worth more than truth, her parents choose to erase the scandal the only way they know how—by selling her to a man old enough to be her grandfather. She had accepted her fate and was ready to endure the wedding, but before the vows could be spoken, the church doors burst open and Salvatore Vitale—the most feared Mafia Lord in the underworld, known only as The Saint strode in, put a bullet in her groom’s head without breaking his stride, and told the priest to continue the ceremony. Then his dark eyes found hers across the blood-soaked aisle, and he spoke the words that rewrote her entire future. "I’ve been searching for you. Mother of my child." Taken to Salvatore’s private island, Elsie is thrust into a brutal empire built on blood oaths and ruthless power. Surrounded by those who see her as unworthy and a discarded fiancée who will stop at nothing to reclaim what she believes is rightfully hers, Elsie quickly learns that mercy does not exist in Salvatore’s world.