Lift Thor Hammer

“You’re useless.” I lift my head, wrists aching where the rope bites into skin already numb from the cold. My father stands over me, his shadow long and sharp in the firelight spilling from the clearing behind him. I can hear the celebration. My sister’s laughter. The pack chanting her name. “I tried,” I say. My voice cracks, and I hate it for that alone. “I did everything you asked.” He scoffs. “Everything?” His gaze drags over me like I’m something rotten. “If you’d done anything right, your mother would still be alive.” My chest burns, each breath a knife. “She chose—” “She died because of you,” he snaps. “Because you were too weak to protect yourself. Too weak to be worth the trouble.” I swallow, tasting blood. “I’m your daughter.” “No,” he says coldly. “You’re a reminder of my failure.” He turns away, already done with me. “Be grateful I’m hiding you instead of killing you. An Alpha can’t afford dead weight.” The rope tightens as he knots it higher, out of reach. He doesn’t look back. Behind him, the pack howls in celebration. I lower my head and let the tears fall silently into the dirt because crying is the only thing they haven’t taken from me yet. But as the night deepens and the forest breathes around me, something else stirs—slow and patient. They call me useless. One day, they’ll choke on that word.

Brielle Davenport tells me to test out rat poison on her childhood sweetheart, Trevor Whitlock's live stream, just so the popularity can be boosted. "All you lose is a life, you know. Meanwhile, Trev has always dreamed of becoming a popular streamer." Then, Brielle hands the rat poison to me. I don't turn her down. Instead, I lift the rat poison to my lips and drink it right in front of the camera. Naturally, my actions boost Trevor to the top spot of the platform, making him the most popular male streamer. The delighted Brielle is quick to throw him an afterparty to celebrate his success. The next day, when Brielle opens the door to the studio, she notices my stiff figure on the floor, my lips still bluish-purple from the poison. She has always been cold and aloof, and yet, she crumbles from anxiety on the spot. I used to come back to life within two hours after my death. Yet, this time, I show no signs of life. Brielle keeps calling out my name. Later on, she can only listen in disbelief as the doctor pronounces my death. Meanwhile, I've already stirred awake in my original world and started my life anew. The truth is, I've transmigrated into this book eight times in a row. In the first seven times, Brielle had saved me seven times, but she also hurt me that many times. In the eighth attempt, I return seven lives to her. Finally, I'm able to leave this world once and for all.

"Listen here old friend, I'm buying this lady and you're selling her over to me. You know better than to waste my time, Helen.” He turned to face the old-lady using the tip of his gun to lift her chin up. My eyes widened at his words, tears cascaded down my face. I felt the uneasiness flow in my veins. Just when I thought being sold died along with Michael. "Get.Up." he seethed. I remained immobile, freezing from his intimidating but sexy voice tone. "You sure don't want me to repeat myself, Rainfall." he gritted out. "M-Mia Rivers, that's my name." I replied stuttering, though a bit afraid. "Mia Rivers, you are now mine." * * * Mia Rivers gets sold to Alpha Corey Lee Denvers at an auction. She's completely oblivious to the werewolves’ community growing up in an orphanage. Alpha Corey being able to catch the scent of a strong wolf in his mate takes her to his Pack, White Fangs to be his Luna. Mia gets confused on how strange and odd the pack house seem to look. Alpha Corey tells the truth to her leaving her devastated. The bond between Mia and Alpha Corey becomes stronger, but is soon crushed when Corey receives threats warning him for his mate. When the worse happens? Would she be willing to forgive people that hurt her? How about people after her wolf powers? Seems like they might need intervention and the Moon Goddess' mercy on their love fate.

At my lowest point that year, I took a job at a pet shop, where I was assigned to take care of a "gentle-tempered" silver-white Alaskan Malamute. Every time I went near him, he would lift his head and bury his nose against my chest, breathing in low, rough sounds that felt disturbingly like a grown man holding himself back. Especially when my hand brushed through his beautiful fur, his body would heat up, and his eyes would darken and burn with unmistakable possessiveness. Thinking he was sick, I rushed to find the shop owner. The owner gave me a long, meaningful glance. "He's not sick. But he only acts like this with you. "You need to bathe him, give him a full-body massage, and try giving him a little kiss. Otherwise, he might lose control." I had my doubts about the whole thing, but I didn't really have a choice. I went along with it anyway. Eventually, I told the friend who had gotten me this job everything that had been happening. After she heard me out, she went quiet for a second. Then, she looked at me strangely and said, "Have you ever thought that maybe you're not looking after a dog at all? What if he's actually a werewolf who can take human form, and he's in heat, using pheromones to mess with you because he wants to… You know, sleep with you?"

Catalina Ramirez has always been the subject of gossip on campus—labeled a playgirl not for what she did, but because of what people think they saw. When her long-distance boyfriend left for the Philippines, rumors flew that she cheated with her boy best friend, Aiden. What no one knew was that Aiden was simply protective of her, always by her side, never crossing the line. But to others, closeness easily looked like something more. With striking blue eyes as calm and deep as the ocean, Catalina doesn’t need to lift a finger to catch anyone’s attention. Her beauty is effortless, her voice captivating. As a member of a rising campus band, she sings with a passion that defies the quiet disapproval of her mother. Who has always tried to pull her away from music. Catalina feels it deep in her bones: her mother is hiding something from her, something about her past, something she’s not ready to confront. Then came Logan Axel Tyndall. At first, Catalina thought it was nothing but a harmless crush, an infatuation she’d get over in a week or two. She tried to laugh it off, but soon found herself stalking him, chasing after the way he walked, talked, and carried the world like he knew more than he let on. Before she knew it, she wasn’t just falling... she was drowning in him. But Logan wasn’t just another boy. He held the missing pieces of a puzzle she never knew she was trying to solve. Through him, secrets begin to unravel. Questions long buried rise to the surface.

Sadie: Unrequited love is a b*tch, isn't it? I have been in love with Alec for as long as I can remember, but he never felt the same way. To him, I was just his sister's annoying best friend. I was sure he'd be my mate, but the moon goddess played a cruel joke on me because Alec found his mate, and it wasn't me. I thought nothing could be worse than seeing the man you're in love with happy with someone else. I was wrong. It took just one night for my life to change. Everyone turned against me. I was shamed, shunned, and tortured for a crime I didn't commit. As if that wasn't enough, Alec banished me, a fate that was worse than death. With a broken heart and soul, I left, vowing never to cross paths with him again. Alec: With a curse hanging over my pack and time running out, I had my hands full. I thought nothing could be more difficult than trying to lift a f*cking curse but I was wrong. It wasn't as hard as trying to convince a woman you hurt deeply to forgive you. Sadie despises me and wants nothing to do with me or my pack. Not after the sh*t we put her through. I want a chance at redemption, but will she ever forgive me? Will she ever let go of the pain I put her through? Turns out the woman I cruelly mistreated is not only my second chance mate but also the key to breaking the curse.

Victor and I were nothing more than a pair of sworn enemies married inside the camp. He hated me for handing over my frail sister to the research institute, all so they could extract the antiviral serum from her blood. And I hated him for never seeing anyone but her, even in the apocalypse, when she could barely lift a metal rod. For the ten years of the apocalypse, the words we said to each other most often were, "Die a miserable death." … However, when the zombie horde finally broke through the last line of defense, he chained me to the modified mech truck and went out alone to face it. "Live…" I watched as the tide of corpses swallowed him whole, the crack of breaking bones mixing with the sound of flesh being torn apart. On the edge of death, he pulled out my sister's faded photo and placed it over the one clean spot on his chest. "This life is yours. But if there's a next one, don't go near her again." … That night, when I returned, I blew up the camp. When I opened my eyes again, I went to the zombie king. His razor-sharp claws closed around my throat, and I smiled as I took hold of his hand. "Let's make a deal. Give humans five more years, and I'll willingly be your queen." Last time, he gave his life to save me. This time, I'll be the monster—so they can all get what they want.

"Lift your hand," I said looking at how he held onto his bicep with a tight grip. "Let me take a look at the bullet wound." "No tesoro. I can do this myself," Vittore grumbled and I gave him incredulous look. "Don't start that bullshit with me Vittore. Remove your arm and let me help you or..." I trailed off, not able to say more. I was still in shock but I could do this. "Just... just let me help." "No." I glared at Vittore. "Why are you being so damn egotistic?! Let me help you! Do you know what it was like to find you like... and to..." I couldn't even get all the words out. "Let me help you. Please." Begging wasn't something I'd ever do but I just needed him to let me help him. "No-" "Why?!" I suddenly exploded. "Why won't you just let me help you?!" "Because I don't know how to handle it ok?!" Vittore suddenly exploded, his dark eyes glaring at me. "I don't know how to handle these... feelings. Fuck tesoro you drive me crazy! Don't you see that? You make me question everything I've ever known and... I can't..." I watched Vittore as his expression turned determined. "Fuck it." He leaned forward and pressed his lips on mine.

Two years ago, as a graduate of Werewolf Medical School, I volunteered to go to the most remote and poorest pack, as it had always been my dream to help werewolf patients in need. I heard from my teacher that the werewolves in the Rogue Pack were the poorest and that their living conditions were the worst. Most of the werewolves there were old and weak, so I volunteered to go to that pack as soon as I graduated. After I arrived, I helped them build an infirmary and even set up a blood station. Every year, I led them in voluntary blood donations. But one time—right after I had taken a short break following a blood donation—they turned on me. They slandered me, calling me a selfish and heartless healer. Worse still, they accused me of faking illness, claiming I was lying comfortably in bed while patients were dying—refusing to lift a finger to save them. Not only that, they stormed into the infirmary, seized all my herbs and equipment, and completely trashed the place I had built for them with my own hands. Recalling the days I had spent day and night healing them—only to see my infirmary destroyed and my dream shattered—I let out a bitter smile. I picked up the phone and called the dean of my home pack. "I'm ready to return," I said. "I want to serve the patients in our own pack." Then, without a trace of regret, I left that place behind. However, after I gave up, the whole pack regretted it and begged me to return.

Over the Fourth of July weekend, I took my boyfriend's sister to his flashy new influencer hub. Fresh off brain surgery, Benedetta Griffin needed a break from her recovery, and I hoped the trip would lift her spirits. In the hub, a streamer was hawking a face cream like a carnival barker. "Listen, fam! The boss lady is slashing prices. Get this $3,800 cream for just $398 today!" Benedetta tugged my sleeve. "That cream is bad news." She'd interned at the FDA last summer and could spot a scam from a mile away. "It's packed with steroids. Long-term use will ruin your skin." Driven by her sense of justice, she marched up to the streamer. "You can't sell this unlicensed junk. The steroids exceed legal limits. Pull it from the shelves." Morgan Lamb froze, but then her fake smile twisted into a scowl. "Who the hell are you to trash my product?" Benedetta didn't back down. "You're scamming people, and you know it." Morgan planted her hands on her hips. "I'm the boss lady here. How dare you slander my brand? Nobody leaves until you cough up $500,000 for damages." "Boss lady?" My stomach churned. My boyfriend's sudden venture into the streaming industry now made sense. He was sinking money into this hub to bankroll his lover. I fumbled for my phone to call him, but Morgan was faster. "Babe, get to the hub. Two haters crashed the party, trying to tank our business."