On Swift Horses

"Interested in having a date with me? Hurry up and get over here!" Elliot Coleman sends me a photo of a venue that's decorated romantically. It's followed by that sentence and an address. He and his friends laugh hysterically when I arrive in a carefully selected dress. "I told you, right? She'd come running with just a single sentence! Trust me, she'll do whatever I want her to do!" Elliot ignores my embarrassment and publicly confesses his feelings for Isabelle Stevens. He even falsely accuses me of refusing to leave him alone and tries to chase me off. Then, he turns pale when my newlywed husband arrives and shields me.

"บนระเบียงที่สูงเสียดฟ้า ท่ามกลางแสงไฟของเมือง เธอเฝ้ามองโลกเบื้องล่าง ราวกับกำลังถามหาสักที่ ที่หัวใจได้พักพิง ท่ามกลางความวุ่นวายที่ไม่มีวันจบสิ้น เธอโหยหาความสงบและรักแท้มาเติมเต็มช่องว่างในหัวใจ"

In Lunular Island where the tides rise with the moon, Crisel stands as the most feared and revered Raksha — the alpha bloodline’s protector. But Crisel carries a dangerous secret that no one suspects… she is Alrael’s luna. For fifteen years, she has lived with this secret and kept it even from Alrael himself. The former alpha, Aphael, insisted on this deception, fearing that the same betrayal which murdered Alrael’s mother and sister during the Great Extermination would happen again. Now, Crisel walks beside Alrael as he leads the moonlight wolves by day. But at night, Alrael becomes Black Justice, a vigilante who’s hunting for answers to his family’s slaughter, and Crisel fights by his side as they inch closer to uncovering the conspiracy that threatens the very essence of moonlight wolves. Yet, every moment of closeness is a reminder of what Crisel can never tell him… that she is his Luna, his mate — she can only allow her love to burn in secret. The burden of Crisel’s hidden identity even grows unbearable especially when Alrael is pressured by the village heads to marry and secure the alpha lineage. They believed that the luna is long dead and have arranged his marriage to Giana, a genius from Crescent Village. Now, the wedding day approaches and the weight of the past, the fear of betrayal, and her love for Alrael all collide in that moment. Time… is running out for Crisel. But with the vows spoken, and the preacher having said, “Speak now, or forever hold your peace", Crisel has to make a choice. Will she allow her alpha marry the wrong girl or…. will she speak now? Will she be risking everything and be rudely barging in on the alpha’s white-veil occasion?

I am the daughter of the Alpha of the Blood Moon Pack, my parents are very rich, but I have nothing. When black magic was eating away at me with a month to live, I asked to borrow ten dollars and they said I was "not worthy." I dragged my sickly body to buy the cheapest herbal medicine, but I saw them spending billions of dollars to celebrate my foster sister Vivian's 18th birthday. Tears streamed down my face, I just wanted to spend ten dollars on a piece of fabric and make my own ceremonial robe, even though I wouldn't live to be eighteen.

It's my first time visiting my girlfriend, Jennifer Hayes' family for the holidays. At the dining table, her childhood friend, Duncan Foley, suddenly slams his cutlery down. "How could you bring a prostitute client home for dinner, Jenny?" The atmosphere becomes awkward immediately. Everyone initially thinks that Duncan is running his mouth because he's had too much to drink, but he continues to ramble in a matter-of-fact tone. "My buddy is a part of the anti-prostitution task force! As if I can get the person he's personally arrested wrong!" As he speaks, he tosses a copy of the public security administrative penalty notice onto the table. My name is displayed on it. The sight leaves me stunned. It's true that the anti-prostitution task force arrested dozens of offenders in the city last month. But I'm the one who gave the signature of approval as the newly promoted chief commissioner…

"Huh? Innocent and pure male god?" Albrey Hamilton's cold thin lips brushed Oakley's cheeks gently, his hand gripping the person's pale and smooth chin. "Very funny, isn't it?" Albrey Hamilton's hand ruffled Oakley’s hair, tousling it. "Aren't you just a plaything?" Albrey Hamilton sneered coldly and domineeringly captured the lips of the person beneath him. Immediately, Albrey pinned down the person's waist and thrust into the person fiercely creating a loud papapa noise that resounded in the low-key luxurious room Oakley's eyes and face reddened which wasn't known if it was due to pleasure, fury or embarrassment. Oakley's eyes pooled with tears that slipped past his cheeks rapidly yet he only bit his lower lip, a stubborn and defying expression on his face. He refused to part his lips, speak or acknowledge the cruel words of the person hovering over him. "Naive." Albrey's thin lips curved in a cynical disparage. "How do you think your fans will react when they discover their pure idol sold his body to me to become famous?" Albrey sneered coldly, his eyes darkening with coldness at Oakley's silence. Oakley stiffened after hearing the ridiculing word that emitted from Albrey's lips.

The day I went to try on my wedding suit, a stranger stormed into the VIP fitting room and drove a knife into my gut. "Sleeping with my woman, and you dare wear a suit this expensive?" He ripped my shirt into ribbons with a wild grin and threw sulfuric acid straight at me. The knife was buried deep in my abdomen. Pain ripped through me as I collapsed. He yanked my hair, forcing my head up. "Susan Lefebvre is my wife. What the hell are you? Just some filthy side piece hiding in the shadows!" Blood dripped from my fingertips as the truth sank in. The fiancée I'd loved for seven years had been cheating on me all along. "What are you staring at?" He sneered. "Even if I kill you, no one can touch me. My wife runs this city!" Watching that arrogant face twist in triumph, I took out my phone with a trembling, blood-soaked hand and dialed my sister. "Allison," I said, my voice cold and calm. "Come pick me up at the bridal salon. And tell the Lefebvres that the engagement is off."

My marriage to Bryan wasn’t perfect, but it was never bad enough for me to want him dead. Yet when he was brutally murdered in a hotel room, every finger pointed at me. His family accused me. The world believed them I spent months behind bars for a crime I didn’t commit. My empire crumbled. My only child now sees me as a murderer. I was bullied, broken, and forgotten until Damon stepped back into my life. Damon, my ex-lover, is now fighting to clear my name. He has one goal: to set me free. But he has another theory, one more shocking than the accusation itself, My Husband could be faking his death to make me suffer and start a new life with his mistress . Freedom didn’t make life easier. Outside those prison walls, I’m paying for my husband’s mistakes while battling for custody of my son, his family took everything from me but what if i turned everything around in my favour? And the question haunting me remains: Or how long was my supposed dead husband going to keep hiding?

Harry Pate fails in his plan to secure a fortune from my family. He tries to drug me, hand me over to his friends, and even film it to control me. Luckily, a kind netizen overhears him plotting with his mistress at a restaurant. The netizen posts a missing person alert online. "Please share widely. Looking for Freya White. Her boyfriend is trying to drug and assault her." I see the post and quietly pour the drug into the pot they are about to drink from.

On the six-year anniversary of my relationship with my girlfriend, Sheila Loom, I buy some groceries with the intention to surprise her with a home-cooked meal. After I'm done, I head over to Sheila's place right away. That's when the reel I was watching automatically skips to the next one. It's a live stream where people call in to discuss legal matters. A familiar feminine voice drifts to my ears at that moment. "My boyfriend shelled out 500 thousand dollars to put me through school. I've already paid ten thousand back to him. "At first, I wanted to clear the debt before breaking up with him, but I don't want to wait any longer. If he insists on taking me to court after the breakup, can I still pay the debt off slowly?" Almost immediately, comments flood into the comments section, chewing her out and calling her a heartless wench. But the voice replies calmly, "If I truly were heartless, I wouldn't have paid him back to begin with. I no longer have feelings for him. Are you saying that I should sacrifice the rest of my life just so I can pay 500 thousand dollars back to him?" My heart skips a beat at that moment. It's true that I've spent 500 thousand dollars putting Sheila through school over the years. But I feel that I'm overthinking it, seeing as she's never brought up the matter of wanting to pay me back before. After I call Sheila repeatedly for half an hour, she finally answers my latest phone call. At the same time, the woman's phone call that's connected to the live stream is cut off. "It's my birthday today, Sheila—" "Have you secretly come looking for me again? Didn't we agree that we'll only meet up after you've successfully gotten into college?" I don't get to finish the rest of my sentence. Suddenly, I catch a glimpse of the notebook sitting on the corner of Sheila's table. The first page shows "debt repayment ledger". Some of the details are as shown. "The SAT study materials I bought for him: 188 dollars." "The Uber fees I've paid for him: 35 dollars." "The cologne I've gifted him on his birthday: 380 dollars." "Total: ten thousand dollars now paid."