Lacey Trial Pokemon Novels & Stories

“You can play Priest for as long as you like,” he spat, ignoring my protests, “but you will never find salvation.” His words struck like a curse, but that wasn’t the reason my chest heaved, goosebumps littered my skin, and definitely not the reason I felt hot despite the chilling dip from the lake. Ezreal’s eyes widened momentarily, noticing. I winced as his hand shifted, pressing against the stiff betrayal straining against my soaked robes. He stilled for only a second, then a wicked grin overtook his features. “Well, well,” Ezreal drawled, his voice taunting “Look who’s getting excited,” “Stop,” I gasped, squeezing my eyes shut as the humiliation dug deep. “Please….” He leaned forward, his breath hot as his lips ghosted over the shell of my ear. “I will taint you so bad,” he whispered, his hand tightening against my crotch. “So bad you won’t have the courage to stand on the altar you abandoned me for.” ****** At sixteen, Ezreal Vossell took the fall for a murder to protect the only boy he ever loved—Baron Lander, the timid son of the town’s high priest. A known delinquent, the bastard child of the mayor, but the only one who saw him for his true self was Baron. Ezreal made the ultimate sacrifice, and all he wanted in return was Baron’s support. But alas, on the day of the trial, Baron betrayed him, casting him aside to please his father. Ezreal was sentenced to life in prison, his heart shattered beyond repair. Fifteen years later, he was released, but gone was the naive sixteen-year-old. He’s returned as the ruthless leader of a mafia syndicate, and with all the power and wealth at his fingertips, he yearned for one thing alone. Revenge.

This is my first time meeting my partner's family as their future daughter-in-law. A few minutes after taking my seat, my future mother-in-law, Joana Carrell, suddenly speaks up. "I've conducted a premarital test on you, but you've only scored 30 points. You have no right to marry into my family!" I never expect that I'll be tested, to begin with. The results leave me feeling shell-shocked. But Joana continues prattling on and on. "When you walked through the front door, the stool at the doorway was crooked, but you never readjusted it. You got ten points deducted for that. "The trash can in the living room was full, but you ignored it and never took the initiative to empty it. That'll be 20 points deducted. "When you washed the fruits in the kitchen, you saw a pile of dishes in the sink, and yet you didn't wash them. That's 40 points lost! "Altogether, you scored 30 points, which means you've failed the test. Hence, you aren't worthy of becoming a daughter-in-law of the Yarrow family!" I turn to look at my boyfriend, Anthony Yarrow, subconsciously, hoping that he'll defend me. But he keeps his head lowered and pretends to not hear anything. His reaction catches me off guard. But soon, my temper starts flaring. It turns out that the Yarrows have already plotted to put me through a trial that tests my submissiveness as soon as I walk through the front door. That's why Joana has been assessing me like I'm their future maid. Since they care about points that much, then I suppose they can kiss the million-dollar wedding gifts, the marital home located in the city center, as well as the businesses under my family goodbye.

Juliette gave up on her dream of ever gaining Michael's notice the day the senator's daughter, Aria, came into the picture. She'd do anything for the ruthless and sometimes cruel Michael. Even three years later, when he hires her to plan his wedding to Aria. Aria has always been jealous of and hated Juliette. When things start going wrong with the wedding plans, it's Juliette who gets blamed for Aria's tampering. Juliette foolishly allowed Michael to create the contract for the event. When Aria skips out on the wedding. Juliette is forced to be the bride because of a clause in the contract. A five-year contract marriage to the man of her dreams becomes a nightmare when he promises to make her pay for destroying his wedding and reputation. Never mind that Aria ran away on her own or canceled all of Juliette's arrangements. It's Juliette who loses her business and becomes trapped in a loveless marriage. On her third wedding anniversary, the only present Michael ever gave her was divorce papers. Now what will she do when she finds Aria has taken her place? Michael learned early in life, women want money and not the men behind the money. He’s always got an alternate plan, and a five year plan for his future. Blind by anger and the need to lash out, he uses Juliette as a backup bride to pin her down and unleash his revenge upon. It’s only for five years after all. It’s a trial run marriage. Who the bride is doesn’t matter. Will Michael finally learn from his mistakes? Is it too late? What about Leon, Michael's best friend, and who stole Aria from Michael? Can they sort this out before it's too late? Cover by Graziana (@gm_bookcover_design)

I'm the Alpha King's daughter. When I was 16, my father chose four werewolves as my future mate candidates. They are from the affiliate packs and have Alpha blood running through them. When Dad was gravely injured, he asked me who among them I wanted to be my mate. After giving it much thought, I chose Leo Martinez, the werewolf with whom I was the closest, to be my lifelong mate. However, three months into our bonding, strange wounds would emerge on my body. On the other hand, my cousin, Sylvia Campbell, who sought shelter at my house, became prettier. Thereafter, I encountered various hurdles. I even failed my pack trial, for which I prepared with so much effort. But Sylvia, with skills below par, managed to join the elite Silvermoon Strike Force alongside Leo. I stayed back in the Dark Hunters pack, licking my wound. Half a year later, I encountered an ambush while on a hunt and died on the spot. After I died, my soul refused to disperse. I saw Sylvia and Leo pull out a Moon Goddess statue wrapped with thorny vines from under my bed. They laughed wickedly at my dead body. "Sylvia, thanks to your trick, we managed to cancel the Moon's blessing with the witch's curse and switched your and Elena's fates. Now, no one stands in our way. The pack is in our hands." Never would I have thought my gentle, obedient cousin and my mate whom I grew up with, would team up to harm me. When I reopen my eyes, I've returned to the day Dad asks me to choose my mate. I dig out the statue beneath my bed and thrust it into the beast enclosure. Since Sylvia loves controlling others' fate, she shall face the consequences for doing so.

The notorious Alpha of the Black Wolf pack, Kellen Blackwood, is feared throughout the entire pack for his violent temper. Yet, everyone knows he adores his mate, Lilith Hayes. I am only an Omega, the lowest rank among werewolves, and I haven't awakened my wolf by the age of 18. Even though I became a laughingstock in the Black Wolf pack, Kellen still treats me as the love of his life. He always says I am as pure as moonlight, and he's willing to bow his head and surrender his pride for me. I believe him. Despite my family's objections, I become his mate. For five years, we have been together. He cherishes me like a priceless treasure. The Alpha Kellen, who shows no mercy outside, cooks meals for me and takes care of our home with his own hands. The fearsome leader, who never bows to anyone, gently lowers his head and shows deference to me. When my brother, Rex Hayes, breaks werewolf law, Kellen is the one who accompanies me to find someone who will testify for him. But on the day of the trial, the only person who can prove Rex's innocence, Ella Foster, is nowhere to be found. Rex is convicted of assault instead of being cleared for self-defense. The moment Rex is found guilty, Kellen is the first to stand and applaud in agreement. I lose control and run to confront Ella, demanding to know why she turned her back on us at the last moment. Ella clutches her stomach, tears rolling down her face, her voice trembling as she says, "Rex really is at fault. I can't just stand by and let my father be blamed for something he didn't do!" I stand there in shock, and then Kellen appears behind me. "Lilith, Ella is pregnant with my pup. I can't let anything happen to the pup she's carrying. Rex's punishment is exile to the Frozen Wastes. Compared to everything Ella has lost, that's already merciful."

In the fifth year after my death, Oliver Rypien, leader of the huge smuggling ring that has a notorious reputation domestically and internationally, finally gets arrested by the police. At the public trial court, Oliver can be seen wearing an inmate uniform, though his murderous look is etched on his scarred face. He even has the guts to hum a whimsical tune tauntingly, completely unrepentant. After hearing the prosecutor accusing him of killing 129 victims, Oliver suddenly snorts in laughter. "You're wrong. You're missing one more victim. The police officer named Victor Patton who came from the Customs Enforcement Unit? Yeah, he died at my hands as well." Everyone gasps in shock. A reporter is quick to rebuke Oliver. "Hang on, Victor is a mole working for your organization! After a bounty on him was posted, he had nowhere to run to, so he embezzled over hundreds of millions of dollars' worth of national assets before fleeing overseas! Even now, he's still living his life scotfree abroad!" Oliver shook his head before letting out a cold chuckle. "Victor was a stubborn one. Even though I crippled him, he still managed to kill five of my men. How is it possible for him to be our mole? "After crippling him, I threw him into the concrete foundation of Joy Bridge. If you don't believe me, go ahead and dig through the foundation." Suddenly, Oliver lowers his tone. His smile becomes more malicious. "Speaking of which, we did have a mole who worked with us to kill ten police officers. But now, he's successfully washed his hands off his crimes and became a certain someone's husband. "Why don't you take a guess as to who that brainless, idiotic woman is?" Three minutes later, my ex-wife, Gabriella Campbell, also known as the Chief Commissioner of Police in Gakoli, receives a phone call from the court outside the office of a well-known OBGYN department. "Chief Campbell, please come to the court immediately. The defendant has something crucial to tell you in person."

I was born into a line of vampire hunters, but I was hopeless at it. I couldn't pass a single trial, couldn't make a single kill, so my family dumped me in the countryside and left me to rot. When they brought me back at eighteen, they packaged me up and handed me to the vampire noble Lucian von Karstein as his lowest blood-slave. I had already made my peace with being drained dry and tortured to death. He turned out to be nothing like what I expected. He built me a villa with good light. Every morning before dawn he went out to the garden and picked flowers still wet with dew, and left them by my pillow. When his family ordered him to kill me, he gave up five hundred years of glory for my sake. He surrendered his power, his title, his castle. He traded everything he had to keep me safe, and in the end he ran with me, away from the whole vampire world. But there was a curse in my blood. Every time I let myself feel something for him, it punished me, gnawing my heart to pieces one inch at a time. So all I could do was call him useless, force him to buy me jewelry, drive him away from my bed, and humiliate him every way I knew how. He ended up living in the garage, hauling cargo to survive, supporting a spoiled, vicious wife who treated him like dirt. One night I crept into his little partition and pulled back his collar. There was a burn the length of my hand, gotten from hauling freight day and night just to buy me a gift. I hid in the bathroom and ran the tap to cover the sound of crying. Dabbing ointment on the wound, sniffling, I asked the thing in my blood: "Curse. When is he finally going to hate me and leave?" The curse looked at the back of his hand, wet where my tears had fallen, then at the faint tremor of his lashes, and sighed. He's going to love you for the rest of his life.

My husband, Jaxon Murray, was a renowned medical expert and owned a big company. He was participating in a clinical drug trial when someone tampered with his medication. Under the influence, he ended up entangled with an intern—ninety-nine times, right there on the lab table. When he regained clarity, he rushed home, locked himself in the bathroom, and submerged himself in the tub without food or water as he waited for me to return from work. "Lauren," he said, "my medication was switched during the trial. I made a terrible mistake. But I paid her off and had her dismissed. She'll never appear before me again." I wept miserably, clutching my belly that had once again failed to carry life. And in the end, I chose to forgive him. Several months later, he crashed into a guardrail while answering a phone call, causing me to miscarry. The injury left me unable to conceive for life. He buried his face in the crook of my neck, his voice choked with remorse. "Darling, I don't deserve you. I'm so sorry… We don't need children. We have each other, isn't that enough?" One day, I went to bring him lunch, only to find him in the next hospital room, cradling and feeding the woman he swore he'd never see again. "She's too weak to eat by herself," he said. "She has early-stage stomach cancer. There's no one else to take care of her… she's all alone." I chose to believe him. Again. Until one day, a pair of twins appeared in our home. Sophie Dixon knelt before me, wearing the postpartum gown he had once lovingly picked out for me, clutching my hand with tears streaming down her face. "It's all my fault. Please don't blame Jaxon. If you say the word, I'll leave with the children immediately." Jaxon grabbed my other hand, desperation thick in his voice. "Lauren, you've always been the kindest person I know. The children are still so young. How could Sophie possibly raise them alone? You wouldn't be that cruel… would you?" I looked down at the hands gripping mine from both sides, and suddenly, I laughed. "Jaxon, let's get a divorce. I wish you both a lifetime of happiness."

My husband promised we would spend Thanksgiving with my parents this year. Right before we left, he looked down at his phone and frowned. "Damn it. I forgot to change the delivery address again. Your parents' gift basket went to Cassia's place." I stood in the entryway with my fingers frozen around my scarf. For three years of marriage, Roman DeLuca had never removed Cassia Vail's address from his shopping apps. Whenever I asked him why, he always said the same thing: "Cassia and I grew up together. She’s basically family." The Italian espresso machine I wanted went to her apartment. He said her old machine had broken anyway. The sapphire bracelet for our wedding anniversary was signed for by her. He said asking for it back after she opened it would look petty. The sunflowers and baby's breath he promised me on Valentine's Day ended up in her hands. He said she had already put them in a vase, and he couldn't give me secondhand flowers. This time, I had reminded him for two weeks. The Thanksgiving basket had a low-sugar pumpkin pie, nut-free cookies, and a custom low-sodium turkey roll for my father. I had chosen every item myself. It still went to Cassia. I kept my voice steady. "Drive over and get it back." Roman's face darkened. "She already signed for it. What do you want me to do? We'll pick up wine and pastries on the way. Same thing." "It isn't the same. Get it back." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Elena, can you stop turning every little thing into a family trial? No one makes things awkward like you do." Every time something meant for me ended up with his childhood sweetheart, I asked him to get it back. Every time, I got some version of the same answer. I stopped arguing and watched him slam the door behind him. A few minutes later, I wiped my tears and texted my attorney. [Happy Thanksgiving. Please draft a divorce agreement for me. Thank you.]