Pokémon Fanfiction Ash Starter Beldum Novels & Stories

She was never supposed to be his. When Aliyana Hastings’ fragile sister flees an arranged marriage to the ruthless Alpha Nolan Greyson, Aliyana is forced to take her place. She swore her heart belonged to another, until Nolan slaughtered the man she loved right in front of her. Now she’s his bride. His prisoner. His obsession. Nolan is no savior. He is the monster every whispered warning spoke of, cold, merciless, and unyielding. But when Aliyana vows vengeance, she sparks a dangerous game between predator and prey. He wants to claim her. She wants to destroy him. Only one of them will break. And in Nolan’s world, saints die… but monsters survive.

Her soul was meant for magic--his born of fire. Aria Blackthrone, heir of the Moonveil Coven, was raised to believe demons were monsters- creatures of temptation and ruin. But on the night of her Awakening, fate brands her with an impossible mark: the bond of a mate. Her mate is no witch. No human. No wolf. He is Kael, a demon bound in chains, feared even in the underworld for his power. To love him is to betray her sisters. To reject him is to lose her soul. But as shadows gather and enemies rise, Aria discoves the greatest danger may not be Kael's darkness... but the fire he awakens in her own heart. A fobidden bond. A dangerous desire. A love strong enough to defy hell itself.

This is the ninth year Dante and I have honored the Month of No Masters. The Corinni family's heir apparent believes this will make our relationship last longer. For one month after our dating anniversary each year, he is free, and we stay out of each other's lives. If either of us finds someone more suitable, we are to wish them well. If not, we go back to the way things were after a month. Around me, the men of the family are spraying champagne with abandon. "To another year of freedom! Congratulations to our Underboss on reclaiming his bachelor status!" "The family betting pool is open! Place your bets on the left if you think they'll still get married, and on the right if you think it's over for good!" Through the hazy cigar smoke, I sat on the corner of a leather sofa, a cold observer, as if this whole farce had nothing to do with me. Dante's hand was curled around Scarlett's waist as he brushed past me, whispering, "Don't get any ideas. You'll always be my only Donna." "I'm a kite. No matter how far I fly, the string is always in your hand." I pressed my cold fingers against the gentle swell of my belly, my expression a blank mask. Dante, this time at the family's betting table, I'm putting my money on "the end." I'm going to vanish from your world completely. That kite string you're so proud of? Tonight, I'm cutting it myself.

At the afterparty, my daughter, Mia Volpe, suffers from a sudden asthma attack. She collapses to the carpeted floor and goes through a seizure on the spot. But my Capo husband, Lorenzo Volpe, wraps an arm around his secretary, Sophia Bianchi, while watching Mia suffer before his eyes. Sophia had once shown him a forged paternity test of Mia and him. As such, he firmly believes that Mia is the bastard child of me and a Soldato. When Mia tries to reach out for Lorenzo, her complexion already bluish-purple from suffocation, he merely averts his gaze with a disgusted look on his face. "Daddy… S-Save… me…" I look everywhere for Mia's inhaler like a madwoman, only to realize that it's already empty. Sophia covers her mouth while tittering softly. "Dear me, Mia sure has an affinity for acting! Elena, I can't believe you and your daughter are willing to go to such lengths just to get Lorenzo to pay attention to you! "Since Mia likes acting that much, she might as well make the performance perfect." She lifts a high-heeled foot before crushing Mia's fingers, which were attempting to curl around Lorenzo's pant leg. Poor Mia was in so much pain, yet she couldn't let out a single sound. All she could do was scream silently into the void with her mouth wide open. I kneeled on the floor, my forehead already bleeding from smashing it against the floor repeatedly. "Lorenzo Volpe, Mia is your flesh and blood! Please, I'm begging you! Give me some medicine or call a doctor!" But Lorenzo just looks at me coldly, as though he's looking at trash. "A bastard like her is better off dead. Elena Corleone, stop using such underhanded methods to spoil everyone's mood." At that moment, what little love I still harbor for this man completely dissipates as I feel Mia's heartbeat gradually weaken. I no longer beg him for help. With trembling hands, I press the button on the emergency transmitter that I've sworn I'd never touch. That transmitter is the direct line to the highest authority in Smeraldia—my father, Don Vito Corleone.

On my wedding day, my fiance's first love appeared at the wedding ceremony wearing the exact same haute couture gown as mine. I watched them stand together at the entrance, greeting the guests as if they were the bride and groom. Maintaining a calm expression, I complimented them, saying they looked like the perfect couple—beauty and brains, a match made in heaven. She burst into tears and fled the scene. He, however, didn't hesitate to humiliate me in front of everyone, accusing me of being petty and narrow-minded. When the wedding banquet was over, he left for what was supposed to be our honeymoon—with her by his side. I didn't argue or cause a scene. Instead, I quietly booked an appointment for an abortion.

“She died betrayed, broken, and with nothing left… then woke up with a second chance.” Natasha Berlin once gave up everything for love, only to be destroyed by the man she trusted most. Betrayed by her husband, abandoned by those around her, and stripped of the future she fought for, her life ended in regret. But fate gives her what no one else can—a second chance. Reborn to the days before her downfall, Natasha is determined to rewrite her destiny. This time, she will not beg for love. She will not lose herself for a man. And she will claim the powerful Berlin empire that should have been hers. There is only one problem. To inherit the company, Natasha must be married. Enter Sebastian Laurent—cold, powerful, dangerously unreadable, and carrying secrets of his own. His solution is simple: a contract marriage that benefits them both. But revenge is easy. Falling for the wrong man again could destroy everything. In a world of wealth, betrayal, family power, and dangerous desire, Natasha must decide: Will she use her second chance to win… or lose her heart all over again?

My Mafia husband, Alessio, was sleeping with his stepsister, Sophia. In the car, the study, the bathroom, even on the dining table, they left evidence of their affair everywhere. "Sophia, don't worry. Once I solidify my position in the family, I'll give you everything." "Blair… she's just a tool to secure my position." In our eight years of marriage, he had whispered the sweetest words in the world to me. Now, his devotion was worthless. I didn't cry or cause a scene. Instead, I made a deal on the black market. In two weeks, Blair Greco would disappear from this world for good.

Elena had once believed that silence could mean safety. That a gentle hand and a warm cup of tea placed quietly on her desk every morning could be a form of love. Lucien was never cruel—not in the obvious ways. He remembered how she liked her eggs, noticed when she swapped her perfume, and sent flowers on days he knew she wouldn’t expect them. He raised her like one would raise a pet—softly, without question. And Elena, foolish in the way only the very lonely can be, mistook his quiet affection for devotion. She told herself he was reserved. Mysterious. That love didn’t always wear its heart on its sleeve. But when the old flame returned—the one who spoke his language without needing to try—Elena saw it. The difference. He looked at her like a man who had found his lost religion. And Elena? She had simply been convenient. No tears, no scene. Just papers on the breakfast table, beside the eggs he cooked perfectly. She didn’t accuse or beg. She only asked for freedom. He didn’t sign. He chuckled. A soft, dismissive sound. “A cat raised indoors doesn’t know how to survive on the street, Elena. You’ll come back." But she didn’t. She disappeared, like smoke—except she didn’t vanish, not really. She lived. She wore colour again. Laughed at bad jokes. Let strange men hand her coffee and ask for her number. Lucien? He watched. He watched her become someone without him. And it drove him mad. The night he cornered her outside the gallery, rain in his hair and desperation in his eyes, he looked like a man undone. "Elena," he breathed, "please. Look at me. Just once." She did. Calm as ever, and her love already gone.

As I head to see my boyfriend, Howard Schultz, who is working late, I get into a car accident. I call him dozens of times for help, but he doesn't answer a single one. Staring at his brightly lit office building not far away, I sink into despair. When I wake up in the hospital, I see a post from his subordinate. It's a picture showing the reflection of the two of them in the glass door, standing far closer than they should, with the caption, "What do I do when my boss is scolding me late at night?" Unwilling to believe it, I call him again. This time, he finally answers. My voice trembles. "Howard, I got into a car accident…" "Celine, I'm still working. I'll send my assistant to take care of it, okay? Be good. I'll see you after I come back from my business trip." I try to say more, but his angry shout suddenly cuts through the line. "Crystal Jennings! You're only allowed to bring one suitcase for this trip. Why do you have three? Do you think we're going on vacation?" Crystal Jennings—the new intern Howard just hired. I stare at the disconnected call, tears drying on my cheeks. I then call my parents instead. "I agree to the engagement you arranged."

I was the Alpha's lost bloodline, raised far from home. I was thin, pale, and covered in ugly scars no one wanted to look at. Lucia Abbott was the pack's jewel, carefully raised and fiercely protected. She was beautiful, powerful, and loved by everyone. Before she fell from the cliff, her soul scream tore through the entire pack. "Lyla joined the enemy! She tried to kill me!" No one questioned it. After all, who would believe a filthy lone wolf over someone as pure as moonlight? My fiancé chained me to the ritual altar. My father lit the Moonfire Trial fire with his own hands. The flames burned through my wolf spirit, ripping my memories apart and forcing them into the sky for everyone to witness. It was a public execution offered to the entire pack. But the truth was worse than death. It was slow destruction, carved piece by piece.