Novel & Cerita Onyx Leopard Bogg Bag

"I didn’t buy you to be my Queen, little wolf. You're nothing but a sacrifice" Aria is the "trash" Omega of the Silver Moon pack, a servant to her own family and a punching bag for her sister. When her Alpha sells her to the terrifying "Butcher King" Silas to pay off a war debt, she expects a quick death. She doesn't expect the Dragon King to scent her and go feral. Silas is a monster, a king cursed with a dragon-soul that is slowly eating his mind. He needs a blood donor to stay sane, but the moment his skin touches Aria’s, the impossible happens. The Fated Mate Mark burns into their flesh, linking a "weak" wolf to the most powerful dragon in existence. Enraged by the bond, Silas locks her in a tower, vowing to break her spirit before he ever calls her wife. But Aria is hiding a secret that could burn his kingdom to ash. She isn't an Omega. She isn't even a wolf. As assassins close in and ancient enemies rise, Aria’s true power begins to wake. Now, the King who bought her as a slave must decide: will he suppress her power to save his pride, or kneel before the only woman capable of saving his soul? He thought he was her master. He’s about to find out she can be both his life and his destruction.

For a $5 million research stipend, I agreed to let the System install an empathic link inside my body. "Subject. Are you sure you want to proceed? Once installed, the procedure cannot be reversed. This is a prototype. Side effects are not fully characterized." I looked at the sidewalk-stall clothes my girlfriend Cara Lake had bought herself, and the drugstore-grade makeup on her vanity. I nodded. That night, while she was out at her bar job. A current came up out of nowhere inside me. My whole body lit up with a sickening pleasure that did not belong to me. Seven times. A few days later I waited near the club where she worked. I overheard her with her friends. "Cara. You're something else. Pouring La Prairie into a plastic bag and using it like that? Faking poor like a champion. Doesn't Adam ever notice?" "Notice? He's stupid. He'll believe anything I say. His father got hit by a car, lay in bed without the money for treatment, died alone. I told Adam I couldn't help. He stayed up all night comforting me. I almost died laughing." The laughter went into me like a knife. I got out of there. The tears came on the walk home. I picked up the phone. "Professor. I'll go to the classified institute. I'll go now."

Amidst the dimly lit room, the tension was palpable as Clyde's vice-like grip closed around Isabella's neck. She struggled to gasp for air, her defiance clear in her eyes. "You are no one for me, do you understand?" Clyde hissed, his fingers digging into her skin. Isabella, her voice trembling but unwavering, met his intense gaze. "And you are the most darkly comedic and nightmarish chapter of my life." Clyde, cruel laughter in his eyes, flung her onto the bed with a brutal force that left her breathless. "Then let's make this chapter even more nightmarish," he taunted, a twisted grin dancing upon his lips. The story takes an electrifying turn when Isabella, longing for a peaceful visit to her grandmother, finds herself back in her home country. However, fate has other plans as Isabella's suitcase, filled with her belongings, gets exchanged with Clyde's bag - full of illicit weapons. Clyde, a dangerous figure entangled in the criminal underworld, cannot allow Isabella to simply walk away after discovering the dangerous secrets within the swapped bag. As the noose tightens, he's left with a limited choices: kill her or hold her captive, forever altering the course of both their lives. Amidst this high-stakes power struggle, a relentless battle for survival and freedom unfolds, painting the pages of this thrilling tale with suspense and danger.

My boyfriend's childhood friend declared herself the ultimate 'socialite fraud buster' the very first time we met. She would not stop lecturing me at the dinner table. "Women really shouldn't overdress. If Sean hadn't told me himself that you were his girlfriend, I would've written you off as just another one of those fake socialites I've exposed." My boyfriend nodded along eagerly. "You really do dress too flashy. Just listen to Gina and tone it down a little." I could not be bothered to engage, so I excused myself to the restroom, but I ended up overhearing Georgina Lawson's little 'fraud assessment' from right outside the door. "Sean, this woman's walk, the way she talks… All of it screams training. She's a classic case of a fake socialite. She's only with you for your money! That watch, the limited-edition bag, that sports car worth tens of millions... What doctor could possibly afford all that?" Fury burned through me, and I finally reached my limit. I turned around and called my father, the richest man in the city. "Dad, wire me 50 million dollars. I'm buying out a little fraud-busting studio that targets 'fake socialities' to teach her that rich people have children too!"

I had a best friend who was sweet as honey but only with her mouth. Behind my back, she was a demon. She stole my boyfriend, the underboss of the Chicago Outfit. Her excuse? She wanted to keep me away from the darkness and the blood, so she'd take the suffering in my place. She pawned her wedding ring and fed her husband some story about a limited edition bag for me. She skimmed from her husband's company accounts and pinned it on my male escort habit. She was pregnant and still wanted thrills. So she went to a full-blown orgy with her husband's uncle and a group of his associates. That's how she ended up hemorrhaging. But somehow it was my fault. I was the one who organized that kind of party, according to her. And her story? She tried to stop me, so I pushed her down and made her lose the baby. In the end, her husband sent me to a cartel hellhole in Mexico to atone for my sins. There, her lover sold me to the red-light district. First came the addiction. Then the streets. I served every man in their outfit, one after another. My body rotted. I died slow, sick, and alone. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the night my best friend miscarried because of her own filthy party.

The boy, George Larson, whom I once saved as a child, when he was struggling with asthma, repaid my kindness by imprisoning me for seven long years. "Luna, you're my everything. I won’t let you out of my sight," he said, his voice filled with obsession. He tied my hands and feet, keeping me bound to the bed like a helpless doll, but I did not love him; I wanted to escape. In his madness, he set fire to my family’s ancestral home. The last traces of the Sachs burned to ashes, disappearing into the wind. He said that since my home was gone, I could just live with him and that it would be my new home. However, because I refused to let him touch me, he found someone else—a girl with a beauty mark under her eye, just like mine. The girl, drunk on his affection, thought I was trying to imitate her by faking the same tear-shaped mark. In a fit of jealousy, she gouged out my eyes. My face was covered with tiny, bleeding holes, blood streaming down my body. When George came home, the girl gleefully stuffed me into a trash bag, proud of her handiwork. “George, look! I caught some trash that broke into the house!” George did not even glance at me. He just loosened his tie, his voice calm and detached. “Just toss it where trash belongs.”

As the son of Isabella and Elijah, Isaiah takes his legacy as the King of werewolves seriously! He is a just and fair King, but something is missing inside him. His mate. Although he is still young, he longs for that true love that all of his family have. Everyone else except for him has found their mates. He is happy for them. But also kind of jealous. Ivy was born between two strong parents, but there was a problem. She was forbidden. A love child born of a werewolf father and fae mother. She is a hybrid. Something that has been forbidden from the Goddesses since before anyone living can remember. When her mother dies, her father remarry his mistress and Ivy is finally kicked all the way out of the family. She is a Princess by right, but treated as the family's personal punching bag and slave. What happens when Isaiah finds his mate in the most unlikely of places? Will he accept her, despite her status as a hybrid, or will he reject her because of her heritage? Can the world survive with a hybrid as their Queen? Will they accept her? Follow the story of Isaiah and Ivy, who both are looking for their rightful place in a world on the brink of a civil interspecies war. Can the young people change the fatal outcome of bloodshed and hatred? Will hybrids once again be allowed and accepted? The Alpha King's Forbidden Mate is the sequel to Her Second Chance Alpha.

"They called me a defect from the day I was born. No wolf, no scent, no future." That was the lie the Crescent Moon pack fed me my entire life. I was the dirt beneath their paws. The pack’s punching bag, an empty vessel, kept around only to scrub their floors. All I ever wanted was to survive my eighteenth birthday and vanish into the human world. But the Moon Goddess has a sick, twisted sense of humor. At the brutal Alpha Summit, the kind that happens once every decade, the scent hit me. It wasn't just one intoxicating wave of mate-pull. It was two. One smelled of pine and dark magic. The other smelled of blood and winter fire. Kael, Alpha of the Bloodhound Pack; ruthless, heavily scarred, and the most feared executioner on the continent. Ryker, Alpha of the Silvermane Pack; arrogant, indomitably powerful, and Kael’s sworn, centuries-old blood enemy. When both men roared "MINE" across the summit hall, the fragile peace treaty didn’t just break. It shattered. They don't want to share. They want to conquer. Now, the invisible nobody is the ultimate prize in a territorial war that will tear the shifter world apart. I am physically bound to two men who would rather burn the world to ash than let the other touch me. If I reject one, the mate-bond will kill him. If I choose both, the packs will riot. I just wanted to survive. But to stay alive, I might have to become the most dangerous Luna of them all.

I took my parents-in-law, Edmund and Macy Hale, out to a restaurant. When it was time to pay, we ran into my husband’s female assistant, Vera Rhodes. Seeing Mrs. Hale packing up the leftover bouillabaisse she had been drinking, Vera marched over and slapped the takeaway bag out of her hands. The soup splashed all over Mrs. Hale in an instant. "If you can’t afford to eat here, then don’t come," she sneered. "Look at you, reeking of poverty. How do people like you deserve to be Mr. Orion Hale’s in-laws? Don’t embarrass him." I asked the restaurant to prepare a fresh portion of fish soup to go. Before anyone could respond, Vera slapped me to the ground. "This is a members-only restaurant. You’re using Mr. Hale’s card, aren’t you?" she mocked. "Can’t you earn your own money? You need his money to support your hillbilly parents?" Mr. Hale was so enraged that he was rushed to the hospital. I called Orion and asked him to come sign the surgery consent form. He laughed coldly. "Vera already told me everything. Your dad even needs to trick me into paying medical bills now? Has your whole family gone insane from poverty? "If you’re going to die, then hurry up and die. Just don’t die in front of me. It’s bad luck."

I ditched a shot at studying abroad to help my boyfriend, Gavin Censori, launch his startup. Stuck it out with him through seven brutal years. Then boom—success hit, and so did the ghosting. On Valentine's Day, he hit me with the classic "work's crazy" excuse. Instead of showing up, he had some random delivery dude drop off a box of cosmetic samples. Samples. Later that night, his secretary Rebecca popped up on my feed, flexing hard. Caption: [With a boss like this, why go home early?] Pic: A box of high-end makeup. Same brand. Hers weren't samples. I dropped a comment: [You're doing great at your sidechick job. Gold star.] Gavin called instantly, losing it. "What's your problem? She's just an employee! I bust my ass making money for you, and you're always jealous!" I laughed. Didn't even yell. Just dumped him. Seven years, and I'd never touched a dime of his. Joke's on him—his precious startup? Secretly bankrolled by me. Fast-forward three years. Business summit. He rolled in wearing a tailored suit. The second he spotted me with a bag of bottles, his smirk kicked in. "Didn't like those cosmetics I gave you, huh? Now look at you—reduced to bottle collecting?"