Puisi Untuk Bias นิยาย & เรื่องราว

On the day of the marking ceremony, Sabrina Carter returned to the pack. My fated mate and my childhood friend both abandoned me at the same time to welcome her. "Nicole, we can redo the ceremony another day." "Sabrina needs us more right now." After saying that, they turned and walked away without a single glance back. The two men who once swore they loved me turned my most anticipated wedding into a public joke. I stood there alone while everyone pointed, whispered, and laughed. Then, Sabrina posted a photo on Instagram, showing off how she was being doted on by both the pack Alpha and Beta. Every call I made to the two men was rejected again and again. In the photo, the ring that symbolized the Luna was on her finger. And Charlie Spencer had fastened the moonstone protection necklace, the one meant for me, around her neck instead. That was the moment something inside me finally broke for good. I bought a bond severing potion. I was done holding on. I was going to sever my mate bond with Joshua Ford.

I knew perfectly well that open flames were forbidden at a gas-leak scene, yet as a firefighter, I still backed my girlfriend's childhood friend when he insisted on lighting a cigarette "to calm his nerves." In my previous life, a sudden gas leak erupted during a gathering. Her childhood friend insisted on smoking to steady himself. I slapped the lighter out of his hand and yelled at him for trying to get us all killed. Humiliated, he ignored everyone's attempts to stop him and stormed outside—only to be crushed by an advertising board blown loose by the explosion's shockwave. Later, when I saved a child who had fallen from a building and was left hanging in midair myself, my girlfriend—my second-in-command—maliciously cut my safety rope. She stared at my corpse and said, "If you hadn't humiliated George in front of everyone, he wouldn't have died." When I opened my eyes again, I was back in that room thick with the stench of leaking gas.

Yvette Wilson had a crush on her brother’s friend. He was six years older, so she kept it to herself and stayed cautious. One night, she could not hold back anymore. In the dim light, she leaned in and stole a kiss while he was drunk. She had just turned to run when she saw his eyes snap open. He looked at her with a lazy expression. “You want me to teach you how to kiss? Too bad. I’m not into little girls.” Her face turned red, but she still found the courage to speak. “So you think I’m too young? That’s fine. I’ll grow up.”

The Ashford family opposed my relationship with Everett Ashford. To separate us, they drugged him, and his fiancée ended up pregnant with twins. Everett threatened suicide if I left him. He begged me to stay, swearing he would never see them again. He even told me the pregnancy had been terminated. Three years later, I spotted him at a parent-teacher conference. Enraged, I kept the twins after school and, on their way home, they were kidnapped. Everett blamed me for everything. To force me to reveal where the twins were, he strapped my mother onto a high tower ride. However, my mother had a heart condition. I sobbed that I did not know anything. Everett screamed at me. "I've been good enough to you! Why the hell would you go after those kids? Tell me where they are right now or I swear I'll push your mother off this thing!" He shoved her toward the platform's edge. The safety harness hung loose on her frail body. I had no idea where the twins were. Everett shoved my mother off anyway. Just then, someone found the twins. Everett walked away without looking back, leaving my mother dying of a heart attack. While he rushed to pick up his children, I stood in a hospital room pulling a white sheet over my mother's face. That was the moment I finally stopped loving him.

At my best friend's wedding, a girl lunged forward and caught the bouquet—only for it to slip from her hands and land squarely in my arms. My best friend, Lauren Walker, beamed at me. "Madison, looks like you're the next bride." The guests exchanged knowing glances and turned toward my boyfriend of eight years—Mason Ryder, the CEO of the Ryder Group. But he calmly plucked the bouquet from my hands and casually passed it to the girl standing beside me—his secretary, Natalie Carter. "She caught it first." He ruffled my hair, his voice gentle. "Be good. Give it back to Natalie for now. We'll wait for the next time." The spotlight—and the guests' attention—shifted with the bouquet, settling on Natalie. I looked at her startled yet shy expression, then rested a hand on my stomach and forced a bitter smile. Mason didn't know there wouldn't be a next time. Our eight-year promise had already come to an end, and we still hadn't taken the step into marriage. And I had already promised my parents, who were royalty, that next week, I would leave and return to Montelvia to inherit the family legacy.

After I had helped our law firm win nine hundred and ninety-nine cases in a row, my husband, who had kept our marriage hidden for years, finally agreed to hold a wedding and make our relationship public. However, I waited until nightfall, and he never showed up. Instead, I saw a photo of him and his female assistant kissing in front of everyone at their wedding on Instagram. Her caption read, [I was just being mocked by my coworkers for being a bachelorette no one wants, and then my lawyer hero came to save me. From now on, I’ll be his perfect employee during the day, and he’ll be my loving husband at night.] In the photo, the wedding rings on their ring fingers were impossible to ignore. For a moment, everyone expected me to break down and make a scene. However, I simply smiled and left a comment under the post. [When are you two having a few kids? I’ll be sure to send over a big gift.] The very next second, my husband, who had been unreachable all day, finally called me. “Brit got pregnant out of wedlock, and the man who did it abandoned her,” he said coldly. “Her parents are extremely traditional. If this gets out, they’ll kill both her and the baby. As a lawyer, don’t you have any compassion for her at all? “Delete that comment right now. Apologize to her personally,” he continued. “Once she gives birth to the child and everything settles, I’ll hold another wedding with you.” I looked down at the divorce papers in my hand. Then, I let out a soft snicker. “No need,” I said. “Mr. Larson, just wait to receive our divorce case.”

The rules of the Lawson family prevented their heir from marrying women who were from an ordinary background. But the eldest son of the Lawson family, James Lawson, just had to fall in love with a woman named Laura Jackson, who was a fish seller. He gave up his right of inheritance just to be with her. He was punished by his family by being whipped 99 times. He was also forced to kneel for three whole days. His shirt was covered in blood, but he still said to Laura with a smile, "It's alright, Laura. I just want to be with you." In the end, the Lawson family finally allowed James and Laura to be together, but on one condition: James had to leave the Lawson family an heir. After that, what James said to Laura the most was, "Just give me a little more time." The first time he said that was when he wanted Laura to wait for him to get another woman pregnant.

Seven years ago, my father's adopted daughter, my adopted sister Sophia, caused a hit-and-run while drunk driving. My parents and even my own biological sister tried to persuade me to be her scapegoat. "Sophia's health is fragile. She can't survive prison. Could you take the fall for her?" I refused. However, one night, in the dead of darkness, they handed me over to the police themselves, personally escorting me into the back of a squad car. My fiancé, Salvatore Vitale, the most powerful mafia Don in all of Sicelia, had arranged everything. "Irene," he told me, his voice calm and absolute, "when you get out, I'll marry you. Just endure these seven years." Just like that, the people who were supposed to love me the most, my family and the man I was meant to marry, joined forces to abandon me. I became a criminal without ever committing a crime.

My SAT scores are out. It turns out that I'm the top scorer of my state. But I insist on applying to an obscure, third-rate private college in front of my friends and family. Everyone thinks that I've gone nuts. Mom even gets down on her knees and begs me not to destroy my future. "You can go to any top college you want! Why must you attend that trashy college instead?" I remain unmoved despite the fact that everyone keeps convincing me to change my mind. What they don't know is that if I don't go there, everyone will die in three days.

Three days ago, Damon Ashford marked me. The night he became Alpha, he sank his fangs into my neck under the moonlight. When his wolf blood mixed with mine, my wolf soul trembled violently. I thought the bond was taking root. I was too excited, too happy to tell the difference between real blood transfer and the simple sting of broken skin. This morning I went to City Hall without telling him. I wanted to pick up our certificate and frame it for our bedroom wall. I wanted to surprise him. The clerk checked the system, then looked up at me. "Whitmore, the mark on your neck is fake. There is no trace of wolf blood exchange." "Also, Ashford completed a formal registration with a woman named Clara Wellick two weeks ago." Under wolf law, a mark must be registered within seven days or it becomes invalid. I came to register, only to find I was never registered at all. I took off the scarf covering my neck and dropped it into the trash can outside City Hall. Standing on the steps, I sent my brother a message. Marcus, I’ll go with you for the closed medical research.