Mohawk Invincible Death

My husband forces me to donate my remaining kidney to his true love. He wants to save her from death by uremia. I try to tell him that I have kidney failure—I'll die if I donate my kidney. However, he roars, "Stop playing your jealous games when Shawna is so gravely ill! Don't you have a heart?" Under his forcefulness, I'm taken to the hospital to get my kidney removed. Ultimately, I die in a corner of the hospital.

The Luther Pack believed that the mate bond between twin sisters and twin Alphas was the greatest blessing from the Moon Goddess. Up until I was seven months pregnant, I never doubted that belief. Everything changed when I was kidnapped by the Cassa Pack, the Luther Pack’s sworn enemy. Meanwhile, my mate was busy performing a blessing ritual for the pup of his puphood sweetheart. He ignored my eighth attempt at mindlinking him and severed the connection entirely by the ninth. Kaden’s actions enraged the Cassa Pack’s Alpha, who fired rounds of silver-coated bullets into my belly. My wolf howled in agony while my unborn pup was killed instantly. The silver poison destroyed my ability to heal, and the loss of my pup drained me of all will to live. At the brink of death, my sister, Lucia, found me. In a desperate bid to save me, she crashed into my abductors and perished with them in the resulting explosion. I had no time to grieve, nor did I reach out to our mates. Silently, I erased all traces of our existence within the pack and built a grave for Lucia and me in the Dark Forest. I was dying. Once I completed this final task, I could join my sister. Even after my death, our mates assumed we were merely acting out of jealousy. They had no idea that their mates and pup were already six feet underground.

On the day my body gets blasted into pieces, Amanda Stone, my wife and a police captain, is busy riding the merry-go-round with her childhood sweetheart, Mark Horton, and his son, Keith Horton. Three days later, she finally remembers our son, Evan Johnson, and me. "It's been three days! Is he still mad that I used him and Evan to exchange for Mark and Keith? He's even trying to get the entire police squad to play along with this fake disappearing act of his, huh?" "Captain Stone, Caleb has died in the line of duty. Evan was also injur—" "That's impossible! What I did was only a temporary measure. I set up three layers of defense. There was no way anything would've happened to Evan or him!" Lara Chase, Amanda's colleague, turns away. She can no longer bear to look at Amanda. "Mark did it. He lied about the situation and used your authorization to move everyone away. We've already identified the kidnappers. They're the remnants of MW Syndicate. This was all part of their attempt to get revenge against you. "We also found out that, when you were trapped at the border three years ago, it was Caleb who led the rescue attempt and risked his life to bring you to safety, not Mark's deceased wife…"

My family has always considered me a harbinger of misfortune. It's all because I can see a countdown to my relatives' deaths. I tell them when my grandfather, father, and mother will die. It all comes true due to various accidents. My three brothers hate me to the core because they think I cursed my parents and grandfather. My mother actually dies after giving birth to my younger sister, but my brothers dote on her to no end. They say she's their lucky star because everything goes well for the family after she's born. But didn't Mom die while giving birth to her? On my 18th birthday, I see my death countdown when I look at myself in the mirror. I buy an urn I like and prepare a meal. I want to have one last meal with my brothers, but none of them show up even when the timer hits zero…

My sister was the golden child, the pride of our family, but she had a rare blood disorder that required treatments costing thousands every month. To keep her alive, I became her personal blood donor, working nonstop to pay for her care and delivering food all day and night. But one day, she nearly died from hemorrhaging after trying to abort a pregnancy. That’s when I learned the child she was carrying belonged to my boyfriend. When I confronted him, he didn’t even flinch. Instead, he dragged me to the operating table himself. “You were born to be her blood bank. Dying for her? It’s the best thing you’ll ever do.” I was left there, bleeding out, my life slipping away with every drop. But as death closed in, something changed. The people who once hoped I’d disappear—the ones who used me, betrayed me—they all began to unravel, losing their insanity.

My younger sister and I were born twins, yet from the very beginning, our parents had zero fondness for me. My sister was the family's good-luck charm, while I was hailed as the harbinger of misfortune. I was blamed for every calamity, while she got all the credit for every blessing. Even after my death, I heard them say, "If we had abandoned her at birth, or even ended her life then, none of this would have happened." I had once tried desperately to win their approval, only to be met with cold indifference. When I finally secured a coveted civil service post, they celebrated me for the first time in my life. I naively believed that I had been acknowledged at last. But then, they said, "Give your job to your sister. She needs it more." At that moment, something inside me completely died. I tried so hard to cling to the hard-won proof that I was not the family's misfortune, yet even that slipped through my grasp. In the end, I lost everything, even the life they had never once cherished.

On the fourth day after my son's death, I decided to secretly dissolve my military marriage with my husband. Before that, I had three days to settle everything for my son. On the first day, I tricked my husband into signing the cremation papers. On the second day, I went to the school and collected the textbooks my son would never get to use. On the third day, I cooked a table full of dishes and begged my husband to celebrate our son's last birthday. He agreed, but soon after claimed he had a mission. Instead, he spent the entire night setting off fireworks with his childhood sweetheart. That night, I cooked. Then, I sat alone before my son's photo and ate all my son's favorite foods. The next day, my husband returned, guilt flickering in his eyes as he handed me a brand-new backpack. He said it was a gift for our child's first day of school. But he didn't know—our child would never have a first day of school.

Azar Khaled, 29 ans, est l’attaquant-star de l’Olympique de Marseille. Icône du football français, capitaine adulé et machine à buts, il incarne la ville sur les terrains du Vélodrome comme dans les campagnes de pub de luxe. Il est beau, riche, puissant. Entouré de gardes du corps, de sponsors et de femmes sublimes, il vit dans une villa ultramoderne sur les hauteurs, loin du bruit, loin du réel. Mais Azar s’ennuie. Derrière les flashs et les trophées, il étouffe. Tout le monde l’admire, mais plus personne ne l’atteint. Jusqu’à elle. Leyna Dias, 20 ans, vit à l’opposé de ce monde. Une cité bétonnée du 13e arrondissement. Une mère malade, deux petits frères à charge. Serveuse dans un bar à chicha, elle enchaîne les petits boulots pour survivre. Elle rêve en cachette d’un autre avenir mais elle a appris à ne rien attendre. Surtout pas d’un homme comme lui. Ils n’auraient jamais dû se croiser. Mais une nuit, Leyna est engagée comme hôtesse lors d’une soirée privée organisée pour les partenaires de l’OM, dans une villa de luxe sur la Corniche. Robe louée. Badge provisoire. Interdiction de parler aux invités. Elle le voit. Et lui, il la repère immédiatement. Pas pour son physique il a vu défiler toutes les formes de beauté. Mais pour ce qu’elle refuse de donner. Son regard, calme et fiévreux. Sa façon d’être là sans chercher à séduire. Elle ne joue pas. Elle ne ment pas. Il ne sait pas pourquoi, mais il la veut.

Dans la France du XIXe siècle, Élise, fille d’un noble ruiné, est promise à un riche industriel pour sauver l’honneur de sa famille. Mais son cœur bat pour Armand , un jeune ouvrier , engagé dans les luttes sociales de l’époque. Leur amour naît dans le secret, entre les murs d’une vieille bibliothèque abandonnée où ils partagent leur passion pour les mots et la liberté. Tiraillés entre devoir et désir, classe et religion, ils bravent les interdits d’une société corsetée, au risque de tout perdre. Leur histoire devient une lutte silencieuse contre l’ordre établi, une quête d’absolu dans un monde où aimer peut condamner. Lorsque la révolution gronde, leur amour devient flamme et sacrifice.

Three years after my death, my wife’s first love was hanging onto life by a thread, and only my system could save him. To force me to show up, she cut off my father’s medical payments. My sick mother was forced to beg her out in the summer heat until she collapsed. She even threw my beloved little sister into a bonfire to be eaten up by the flames. As she waited for me to show up, apologize to her, and use the system to save her first love, my sister finally stopped hiding the truth. “He died three years ago! Three years ago, he traded his life so you would survive that car crash!”