Owari No Seraph Of The End

On the day of my birthday, my cousin, who does ballet, falls and injures her leg. My father smacks my leg with a club in a fit of rage. I cry out in pain, but he doesn't care. He sneers and says, "Now, you know how it feels! Why didn't you stop to think how much pain your cousin would be in when you pushed her and made her fall down the stairs?" He hits me with all his might until I can't make any more sounds. To drive the lesson home, he shoves me into the basement, uncaring that I'm on the brink of death. "I'll let you out of there once you stop thinking these dirty thoughts, Yvonne!" But when he opens the door to the basement once more, all he sees is my decomposing corpse.

เพราะการดูดวงบ้าๆ ของครอบครัวตัวเอง ทำให้ฉันจะต้องมาแต่งงานโดยไม่รู้ตัว เพราะครอบครัวกลัวจะล้มละลาย เลยจับฉันแต่งงานกับผู้ชายที่ไหนก็ไม่รู้ ฉันเลยรับบินมาจากอังกฤษมาดูว่าที่สามีตัวเอง พอฉันเห็นสามีของตัวเองครั้งแรก ฉันก็ตกลงปลงใจแต่งงานกับเขาทันที!!

A year after my divorce, my ex-husband, Harvey Fisher, pings me in a group chat. "This cold war has gone on for long enough. Come home—let's remarry." I reply, "Have you lost your mind?" Everyone in the group chat tries to convince me to take Harvey back. Meanwhile, he asks, "What have you been doing without me in your life?" I turn to look at my current husband, who's putting our child to sleep. I reply, "Recovering after having a child." The group chat members are initially excited, but they instantly fall silent at my words. Harvey angrily calls me countless times, but I ignore him. His mind is not the only thing he's lost—he's also lost the young woman who once loved him more than life itself.

A few weeks before our wedding, Rodney Luther's stepmother, Jessica Flaine, posts a photo on her social media. In the photo, she's wearing the wedding dress I picked out, holding a bouquet of red roses, and shyly leaning toward Rodney, asking for a kiss. The caption reads—"Dreams fulfilled." I don't call Rodney in tears or throw a fit like I used to. I simply like the post and leave a comment. "Screenshot sent to Rodney's father." Not long after, Jessica deletes the post, and Rodney's phone call follows immediately. "Ivana, you're being so petty! The rest of my days belong to you. It's only today that I'm fulfilling a small dream of Jessica's. Hurry up and explain things to my dad! "Come on, be good. I've got a gift for you." A scoff escapes me. "Rodney, do you hear me clearly? Go explain it to your father yourself!"

A long lost daughter. An Alpha. A tragic past. Forbidden Love. Aurelia Fuerte is imminent to suffer from unfathomable loss and grief. Her fate has already been engraved before her birth to the ruthless world. Thus, it only takes one thing to untie her from being slave of this misery. Is she strong enough to discover her power and control it? Will love be enough to stop the pain and mend the heart which has been aching for justice? How will she be able to discover the truth behind these mysteries if she will be caged inside the valley of death? Secrets are waiting to be unraveled. Blood will shed. Pangs to pangs. War after war. And in the end, who will be found dead?

Rejected by her fated Alpha on the night she was to become Luna, Saelaith Night is cast out from the only home she’s ever known. But this is no ordinary exile. Hidden within her veins flows a forgotten bloodline tied to the Moon Goddess herself; a power that could shake the foundations of the entire werewolf world. Now hunted, betrayed, and armed with ancient secrets, Saelaith must rise from the ashes as the rogue Luna; stronger, fiercer, and more determined than ever. But Alpha Vaeron Stone, the cold and ruthless leader who rejected her, is not done with her yet. Their broken bond harbors dark magic, deadly enemies, and a love neither can forget. In a world where packs vie for power, secrets breed betrayal, and the Moon’s prophecy spells doom or salvation, Saelaith faces a choice: surrender or claim the throne by any means necessary. Will she become the Luna of no one; or the goddess they all fear?

I chase my six-year-old daughter out of the house on a cold winter day. I cut her new clothes to pieces and dirty her dainty little face with mud. Then, I give her all my savings. She looks at me tearfully and reaches out for me, wanting me to hold her. However, I harden my heart and push her away, saying, "Leave! Go to Bowen Group and look for their CEO, Logan Bowen. Show him my death certificate and your DNA test—he'll take you in." She sobs while looking at me. "Don't you want me anymore, Mommy? Let's go look for Daddy together." After a brief silence, I say, "I can't go with you. I lied to him back then to have you." Yes, I'm a liar. I orchestrated everything from meeting Logan, dating him, to ultimately leaving him with his child in my womb. Even the death certificate I've given my daughter is fake. From beginning to end, I've lied to him about everything except our daughter.

Despite a decade of marriage, Simon never once shared my bed, claiming that he had pledged himself to ascetic practices and that it was beneath him. I thought that he suffered from some shameful ailment and guarded his secret like a devoted fool, until my birthday, when I came home to find him entangled with a brothel worker before the floor-length mirror. When I lunged forward in rage, he drove a shard of that broken mirror straight through my heart. When I awoke, I was gripping my phone, its screen illuminating a message Simon had just sent: [I’ll still give you a lavish wedding, but the marriage certificate? That belongs to her.]

Through tear-blurred vision, she saw a figure emerge—a man walking toward her, the fire parting in his wake. His eyes and claws gleamed gold in the firelight, and black and gilded scales covered his face and body, reminiscent of a serpent. But something more specific hovered at the tip of her tongue. His beastly form slowly faded, leaving a beautiful man with warm skin and firm flesh behind. “Help me,” she croaked. “I don't remember…” “Anything?” the stranger asked, his voice deep and ominous. “Only my name. Araheen,” she whispered, her lips trembling.“What happened to me? What is this place?” “You fell behind the Mad End's Wall.” A shadow of a smile crossed the stranger's lips, though it was far from reassuring. Before she could dwell on it, he slid his powerful arms beneath her, lifting her effortlessly as though she weighed nothing at all. “Who are you?” she asked, feeling small in his grasp. He studied her with an enigmatic gaze before replying, I'm Gildeon.” A pause.“Your husband.”

When I saw Vincent Carson again, he was now the formidable head of the Carson Corporation with a net worth of tens of millions. By his side was a young, promising screenwriter. Meanwhile, I dragged myself out of the basement, crippled and in a pitiful state. With a condescending tone, Vincent asked, "Three years ago, you sabotaged Irene's chance to win that award. Do you regret it now? If you wish to remain my wife, you must apologize to Irene first." At the same time, the system's voice sounded in my mind, 'Host, are you ready to go home?' I nodded silently. A look of satisfaction washed over Vincent's face as he stepped forward to embrace me. However, in the blink of an eye, I began to vanish right before his eyes. Subsequently, I heard he lost his sanity.