Novel & Cerita Marill #204

The photos inside made Lily’s blood run cold. She lunged, screaming, but Marah easily stepped back out of reach. “Be good,” Marah said coolly. “If you behave, you’ll get your money, and I’ll delete the photos.” Lily glared at her, trembling with rage. “Haven’t you done enough? Why are you still tormenting me?” Marah crouched again and flicked to another image. This one hit Lily even harder—it was of Adela in the hospital with an unfamiliar man. The angle, the timing—it looked as if they were kissing.

She’s wearing my t-shirt, her hair is packed just like mine: my favorite and quickest way of packing my hair. Shoving the blanket all the way down, Marielle slowly slides out of bed. Her movements are not as stiff as when she was compelled, but still off somehow. When she gets to her feet and takes a stumbling step toward me, I realize she’s not only wearing one of my shirts, she’s also wearing my panties. Sniffing the air, I can smell Dargo on her, thick and musky. What the fuck has he been doing? “I want to go home,” Marielle says, slurring a little. “Will you take me home, Ca-Carmen?”

Amara’s breath caught. She stepped forward, her reflection emerging in the gilded mirror. Dark hair, deep brown eyes, skin the color of twilight. The real her. The quiet one. The one who read Machiavelli for fun and could recite entire sonnets from memory. The one no one ever saw. And now, they wanted her to burn it all away. Marcella placed the bottle in her hand. Cold. Heavy. “You have twenty-four hours,” she said, and left. The door clicked shut.

There was something deeply satisfying about watching the great Alpha Tyrant of Ironblood squirm under his gaze. ******* Duskwatch Village: Kaelithra had just finished tattooing a male fairy's back, some intricate wing design he'd wanted to impress his mate, when Marl came bursting through the door of her shop like his ass was on fire. She looked up from where she was sitting, wiping down her tools, and even through her disguise she could see his stupid grin. Marl was one of the few people who looked at her ugly hunchback face and smiled like he was genuinely happy to see her. It was annoying. And also kind of nice. But mostly annoying.

Clara sent them away with it. Sadly, before she finished that, Ivy had already been stung badly. Her oval face was covered in soreness, reddened and rough to look at. "How the hell did this happen?" Kayla asked, patting Ivy's shoulder gently. She found a handwritten note in the box, picked it up and it said thus, "Fuck you, pretender! The next one is going to be disastrous if you do not allow Dillon to get married to Mirabel. Fear and cold overwhelmed Ivy's body as she listened to the content of the note. The present was from one of Mirabel's die-hard fans.

Mariella’s Pov “Allow me…” Leonardo reached under my dress and my heartbeat thumped faster. My whole body was vibrating so much that I was panting. He kissed my neck and his hand moved in between my legs, gently spreading them apart. ‘I couldn't do this…I don't want to…’ “Stop!” I pushed him away at arms length, he seemed stunned. “I can't.” “Mariella…I know you want me.” His eyes gleamed, so confidently that he held my chin up and leaned closer to my face.

Marcel grabs her, Dan looking at her confused. “Why is she so quiet and not fighting?” He looks at her confused, then back to Marcel. “Why fight when I can’t win? Just know that once you do this, I’m killing you both.” Willow stares at him. Marcel’s laugh booms around the room. “Sure thing, sugar.” Willow simply nods, her eyes closing again. “Make sure you stop just before she dies, please. Too late and she’s dead; too soon and it won’t work.” Marcel glances to Dan, nodding Dan steps forward, his mouth wrapping around her neck as he bites down. Willow screams, feeling light-headed as he feeds, her body becoming tired and worn out. It could be hours later, or minutes, when the faint sound of

“Coffee’s fresh. Decaf I think you’re dilating, by the way.” Aurora’s hand slid to her belly on reflex “wait can she read me too” she thought to herself, Something in there rolled, slow and deliberate, like it was already checking the locks around the walls of the belle,Lila raised the Glock up. “Start talking, ghost.”she said pointing the gun to Mara's face,Mara didn’t take a second look at the gun as just walked across the room, with this ownership aura,she opened a roll-top desk that probably cost more than Lila’s car, and pulled out a Polaroid 2003. A sticky-faced toddler with Aurora’s gold-flecked eyes. Behind her, younger Mara grinning like a lunatic, holding up a brain in a jar with

“What did I just do?” Across from her, Alden Rowe seemed thinner now, his outline blurring at the edges like fog dissolving in morning light. “You accepted the watch,” he said. “The light answers to the one who chooses it.” “I didn’t choose anything!” she shot back. “You said the town—” “And you stayed.” Another tremor rippled through the cliff, but weaker this time. Below, the massive shape sank slowly into darker water. Not gone. Just deeper. Waiting. Mara forced herself to look at the lens. It was no longer cracked and dusty. The glass shimmered, polished and whole, casting a beam far across the ocean. Symbols faintly glowed along the brass frame—spirals and wave-like markings she had nev