Post Timeskip Robin

A Spin-off to Rejected Mythical Luna —Julian X Robin Story They say destiny determines how our lives play out, that the Moon Goddess shapes our paths. But if that’s true, then she did a terrible job with mine. Because as I’m being dragged away, all eyes on me and tears burning down my cheeks, I finally understand how cruel destiny can be. After surviving the war with my Alpha and the Luna, a new battle begins, one I didn’t choose but must finish. Revenge? Justice? Maybe that’s what I should live for. Maybe that’s what should keep me fighting, to hunt down the Men of Shadows who destroyed everything I loved. But as I run through that field with the people I now dare to call friends, none of that seems to matter anymore. All I want is my life back. My family. My pack. Him. And if that means killing again, I’ll do it, only this time, I knew better than to do it alone. “Did you really think leaving me behind was the best choice?” he asked, his breath hot against my skin. “I came to you twice, Julian,” he says, his grip firm, his voice trembling with something between pain and love. “You pushed me away both times. This time, I won’t let you fight alone.” Then his lips crashed against mine, and a single tear slipped free. Was this the retribution I’d been seeking… or just the beginning of a curse written by fate.

I was on a business trip out of town when I got a text from my neighbor. [Can you and your husband keep it down? Also, one of your undies fell onto my balcony.] Shocked, I opened the photo she had sent. The underwear wasn't even my style, but it matched the one I'd seen in my husband's online shopping cart. He'd told me it was a gift for me, but I remember noticing the size—it was one size larger than mine. When confronted with the neighbor's message, my husband swore that the house must've been broken into and claimed the intruder left the item behind. But something about his story didn't sit right, so I decided to dig further. That was when I stumbled upon his social media. His latest post was just three words. [I bought this.] It was paired with a photo of a lingerie gift set. Beneath it, there was a comment. [I'm wearing it.] Attached was a picture of a woman's legs—and the unmistakable background of my living room. The evidence was undeniable. I packed up the underwear and brought it straight to the police. "My husband says our house was broken into. This was left behind by the intruder, and it might have DNA on it."

On the day the privileged heiress, Olivia Cruz, and I register our marriage, she leaves me and Mom stranded on a deserted road before running off to her childhood sweetheart, Brad McCoy. Rage triggers Mom's cardiac arrest, so I call Olivia in anxiety, begging her to come back and save Mom. But she just says a cold line before ending the call, "Not this again. Every time I have to step away, your mom suddenly has heart pain. Your family sure knows how to put on a show, huh?" With that, Mom misses her chance at rescue and dies. That night, a mutual friend posts online. "Growing up together is a whole different kind of bond!" The post shows Olivia perched on Brad's lap with his hand resting on her waist. It's the perfect picture of intimacy that leaves little to the imagination. I expressionlessly tap on the like button before typing my comment. "Is this what you meant by 'something important'?" The friend sneers. "Relax, it's just a game of Truth or Dare. I can't believe you're taking it so seriously." Olivia doesn't even bother to explain, but when I walk away without a word, she finally panics.

Even though this is my eighth time proposing to Beverly Galvan, she still coldly turns me down again. She says that she isn't ready yet and that she needs more time. Since that's the case, I tell myself I will wait as long as it takes. That's when I see it—her and my brother's marriage certificate, posted for everyone to see on her social media. When I question her about it, she merely says in a calm voice, "Timothy's unwell. He can't get too upset, so you'd better not start anything!" They are wearing wedding rings in that photo, and there is a barely visible bump on her belly. In that moment, the storm within me dissipates. Hitting the like button on the post, I type out a comment. "I wish you both a lifetime of joy. May the two of you grow old together!" A year later, a desperate-looking Beverly shows up in front of me, begging that we get back together. Unfortunately for her, her best friend, who was clearly pregnant, steps in with a smile and pushes her aside. "Give it a rest, will you? My husband already has a wife. We can have kids of our own. There's no need for him to be someone's fallback guy."

Before my wedding to Sophie Bennett, the impoverished student I've been sponsoring for ten years posts a photo on social media. "Successfully moved into the new apartment. Soph prepared such a big, soft bed for me!" In the photo, Zachary Wells lies sprawled on the wedding bed I bought for Sophie and my new home, taking a smug selfie with his hand waving at the camera. He's even wearing my wedding ring on his ring finger. Zachary also comments on his own post, "Just thinking about how I'm the first man to lie on this bed fills me with overwhelming happiness!" I reply with a question mark under his comment. The next second, Sophie's call comes through. "I'm just letting Zach experience the warmth of home. Why are you being so passive-aggressive?" In the background, I hear Zachary softly trying to calm her down. "Soph, he's not worth getting angry over." Hearing that, Sophie laughs and banters with him, then abruptly hangs up on me. The two of us have been together for ten years, from ages 18 to 28, and we've finally made it to our wedding day. But now, I no longer intend to go through with it.

After I dropped out of school, my parents didn't pressure me to do anything. But Nicole Hicks kept calling nonstop. She was my boyfriend's childhood friend who had established a reputation as a genius. I was too busy helping out in the fields, growing vegetables, and splashing around in the creek, living my best carefree life. Writing code wasn't even on my mind. In my past life, she had turned in a project just one day before I did. Her codes were exactly the same as mine. Everyone called me a fraud and said I had stolen it. I tried to explain, but no one believed me. Later, she even did a livestream, accusing me online of being a school bully. People went wild. They didn't just come for me—they went after my whole family. Some obsessed troll chased my parents in a car, and they died in a crash. I couldn't take it anymore. I jumped off a high-rise, my eyes still wide open, refusing to accept the way it all ended. Even in my last moment, I couldn't figure it out. That code was mine. My hard work. So how did she manage to post it before me? When I opened my eyes again, I was back, right before everything fell apart.

"When Zack Wallace’s uncle offered him the chance to fulfill his dreams with a job flying for his Alaska charter service, no way was Bailey George going to hold him back. Flying was Zack’s life. Which is why she never told him about the unexpected, unplanned pregnancy. Or answered his letters or returned his calls. Instead, she moved away, got her law degree, and raised her son with the help of her family and friends. When Bailey is charged with running a retreat for her law partners at Casa Blanca Resort and Spa at Barefoot Bay, the last person she expects to run into is Zack. But any chance of a future comes to a shrieking halt when Bailey’s son, the image of Zack, shows up at Barefoot Bay. Part TwoIt was bad luck that had Robin Hanna working late the night her boss, already in trouble with the feds, had two late visitors. Worse luck for him when they shot him dead. In less than twenty-four hours the FBI whisks her out of town and off to the Casa Blanca Resort and Spa in Barefoot Bay, Florida. If she has to hide a way, she gives thanks for the hiding place they picked…a luxury resort. Trey DeMarcus. He had his life all mapped out: a beautiful wife, a career in JAG, and then retirement to Montana, a state where he’s always wanted to live. Neither his wife nor the law practice worked out and now he’s at the Casa Blanca Resort and Spa, trying to figure out his life. When these two meet up, they have nothing in common except lives in chaos. Sunstroke is created by Desiree Holt, an EGlobal Creative Publishing signed author."

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."

My father, a lone werewolf, had come all the way from the Obsidian Pack while battling an illness, to attend my union ceremony with Dean Willows, Alpha of the Moonstone pack and CEO of Willows Industries. It was my father's last wish to see me get married before he died. He was elated that his dreams were finally coming alive. Unknown to him, I had arranged a fake marriage with Alpha Dean. I had knelt outside the Willows mansion for many hours with my father's medical records in hand, begging him profusely before he finally agreed to play along in this wedding charade. But when the full moon rose high in the sky, Dean abandoned me, leaving me to face the pack's judgment alone. My father's heart gave out the moment he saw me standing there, all alone without my so-called mate. While taking his final breath at the hospital, he whispered to me in warning: "Arianna , beware of the Moonstone Pack..." and gave up the ghost. My heart was heavy with grief. I then saw Dean's childhood sweetheart, Vivien Cross, post on social media: "Only the unloved one is the third wheel." That was the last straw. I sent Dean a breakup message, severing our union. He responded by bringing the she-wolf, Vivien to our apartment, flaunting his new alliance.

Le jour où j’ai appris que Robert avait laissé tomber tout ce qu’il faisait pour apporter des médicaments à sa petite assistante enrhumée, alors même que j’étais coincée dans un ascenseur, en proie à une violente crise de claustrophobie, j’ai pris ma décision : demander le divorce. Robert a signé les papiers sans la moindre hésitation, puis a plaisanté devant ses amis : « Elle fait juste un petit caprice. Ses parents sont morts, elle n’a personne d’autre que moi. Elle ne pourra jamais divorcer. » « Et puis, il y a bien un délai de réflexion de trente jours, non ? Si elle change d’avis, je serai magnanime et je la laisserai revenir. » Le lendemain, il a posté une photo de couple avec sa petite assistante sur les réseaux sociaux, avec une légende pleine de suffisance : « Capturer chacun de tes moments précieux. » De mon côté, je comptais les jours en silence. Calmement, j’ai rangé mes affaires et composé un numéro. « Tonton, peux-tu m’acheter un billet pour ville N ? »