Magma Bloom Hello Kitty Novels & Stories

After I voluntarily gave up my position as the team's starting carry to my boyfriend's first love, he was pleased by how obedient I had been. As a reward, he moved our wedding date forward. But on the day of the ceremony, his precious first love, consumed by jealousy, pressed a dagger against herself and begged through tears, "Ethan, please don't marry her. Please." Ethan, who had always been cold and composed, instantly panicked. He pleaded with me over and over, begging me to save her life. Every guest at the wedding was waiting to see me make a fool of myself. Instead, I stayed calm and quietly handed over my place as the bride. Seeing how understanding I was, just as I had always been, Ethan's eyes reddened. "I promise this is the last time I'll let you suffer. As soon as the wedding is over, we'll get our marriage license and make it official." But he had forgotten something. This was the ninety-sixth time he had hurt me. And I had no intention of spending the rest of my life with him. I was only waiting for three more promises. Once I had repaid the debt I owed him for saving my grandmother's life all those years ago, I would walk away for good. From that day on, our paths would never cross again.

When I married mafia don Paul Garcia, I was twenty-two, and he was thirty-two. By day, he was the cold, dangerous king of the underworld. By night, he was my daddy. Everyone in New Haven knew how much he loved me. I casually mentioned I disliked the ballerina competing with me for the principal role. The next day, she “accidentally” broke her leg and never returned to the stage. One night, I craved pasta from a specific restaurant. Without a word, he led his men into the kitchen, pressed a gun to the chef’s head, and forced him to recreate the dish overnight. I once joked about wanting to sleep among the clouds. He turned around, had the building of a rival family blown up, then bought the tallest one in the city and engraved my name on the top floor. However, in bed, he would exhaust me completely and refuse to let me go. Even when the doctor warned that I was in early pregnancy and needed restraint, he ignored my cries, tied my wrists with his tie, and went on until dawn. The next day, I started bleeding. I called him ninety-nine times, yet he rejected every single call. In my panic, I suddenly received a video from my best friend. “Emily, your don is pinning a woman down and kissing her at the bar of the Four Seasons in Moscovia.” When I opened the video, my heart stopped. The man was Paul, and the woman was my aunt. In that case, I’ll give him two gifts when he comes back: an abortion report and a divorce agreement.

When Ethan was at his poorest, he came home drunk after negotiating a deal with a client. He could not even stand straight when he reached home, but he desperately pulled out two pieces of melting chocolate from his pocket. “Honey, for you! Your favorite!” During those endless days of arguments that followed, I always thought back to those two pieces of chocolate. They were the reason I compromised with him, fell pregnant for him, even miscarried for him. It all ended just now, when he forgot to log out of his WhatsApp on his computer. His friend messaged him. [Hey, your wife doesn’t know Anna joined your company yet, does she?] [Back when she was about to leave the country, you searched the whole city for her favorite chocolate, but you still couldn’t convince her to stay. After that, you got dead drunk and cried the entire way home.] [That was when I knew you would never get over her.]

Six years after my younger brother and my fiancée passed away, I picked out a grave for myself. Before my final visit to their graves, my mother suddenly said, “Miles, you don’t have to go this year. The truth is that they never died.” I was startled for a moment before the two of them walked right out of my brother’s room. My brother, Sean, put on a teasing smile as he draped an arm around the woman beside him. “I won the bet! I told you my brother would never figure it out. “Who’s going to be on top tonight, huh, Vera?” My so-called late fiancée, who used to cry whenever she saw me suffer even the slightest grievance, looked at me with open disdain. “He’s just too stupid. We’ve been living next door this entire time, yet he never noticed.” It was only then that I realized my mother forbad me from entering Sean's room, not because it would make her grieve her son again, but because it was directly connected to the house next door. I was truly too foolish. Right up until a month before my death, I was still thinking about visiting their graves.

Kitty Neilson is a wolf less werewolf so she is considered the lowest of the low. Her parents have always treated her with contempt. The only people to ever show her love were her brothers when they were younger before their wolves came out and her grandmother. After a devastating event Kitty left the only home she's ever known to start a new life. However her past won't stop haunting her.

On the engagement night of Kitty with the boyfriend she loved for years, she ran into him a girl, and later she realized that losing her love was far from the worst of that night...

The Crescent moon pack has been isolated from the world for nearly three years after an internal coup. No one has heard anything since the border’s shut. The Werewolf King has had enough and ordered his Alpha to find out the pack's secrets. Alpha Cyrus, nephew to the King and next in line for the throne is becoming increasingly frustrated. The King insists on choosing a mate so Cyrus can take the throne. Cyrus knows the King won’t give up the power that easily. Cyrus dutifully travels to the Crescent Moon pack expecting a routine audit. He soon realises his trip will change everything. Walking into the border, he meets none other than his mate, but she doesn’t seem to realise it and is too close with a different Alpha. The more time Cyrus spends on the pack the more it’s dark past comes to light. Will his mate feel the bond? Will old debts rip the pack apart? Who is this Alpha Fin that isolated the pack? And why is the King so determined the pack opens their borders again?

On the day I successfully conceived through IVF, my CEO boyfriend—the sole heir to a nine-generation business empire—finally agreed to marry me. Yet, after a flight of more than ten hours, I landed only to be greeted by a public announcement of his marriage to his secretary, with journalists watching from every angle. The secretary eagerly showed off the marriage certificate, fresh off the press. "Don't worry, everyone. From now on, I'll personally supervise Mr. Lane for the rest of our lives." When the journalists spotted me, they all focused on me, hoping I'd cause a scene. However, I merely smiled and congratulated the couple. "You and Mr. Lane are perfect for each other, Ms. Quinn. I wish you both a long and happy marriage." Everyone was shocked. No one had expected such generosity from me—Harold's girlfriend of nine years. As I turned to leave, Harold darted over to defend himself with a scowl. "Leila worked day and night with me on this international project. She refused every bonus and only asked to experience the fairy-tale romance of marrying a CEO. We already agreed to divorce once the project is over. I'll make it up to you with an even bigger, better wedding." Then, his voice softened. "For the sake of our baby, don't cause trouble, okay?" With a bright smile, I slapped his hand away. "Who told you the baby's yours?"

I used to be the most promising composer of my generation. But while I was working on my latest piece, my husband Charles Lambert's childhood friend destroyed everything I had. She slashed my face, stole my compositions, and set fire to my house—leaving me to burn alive alongside the kitten I'd just adopted. Then, as if my death were just a spark for her success, she posted my compositions online, claiming I'd plagiarized her. And people believed her. Everyone did. Strangers on the internet sneered and spat my name, and my own husband, Charles, chose to believe her over me. Even the International Musical Society rescinded my award and handed it to her without a second thought. My students, who once followed me loyally, were now fawning over her. I became the laughingstock of the entire internet—mocked, discredited, erased. It wasn't until a week later, when someone stumbled upon the charred remains of my lakeside studio, that they found what was left of me.

I've raised my son, Caleb Bennett, for nine years, but today I found out he was never mine. Claire Bennett, my wife, shamelessly tells me to leave with nothing. She says Caleb's real father is Lincoln Lancaster, heir to the most powerful family in Berglaton. The Lancaster family has few direct heirs left, so if Lincoln acknowledges Caleb as his son, Lincoln can easily surpass his frail uncle and become the rightful successor. Caleb says, "You think you deserve to be my dad? My real father could crush your whole family with a snap of his fingers!" Margaret Quigley, Claire's mother, adds, "If Claire hadn't gotten pregnant with Lincoln's child back then, do you really think we'd have let someone like you marry into our family?" I don't fight back. I just sign the divorce papers in silence. After that, I take out my phone and call my father, James Lancaster, who has been waiting for me in Berglaton all these years. "Come pick me up on Christmas Eve," I say. "I'm ready to go home and take over the family."