Release That Witch Fanfiction Novels & Stories

Dark soul, damage by his past mated to a lost cause forced to be his mistress. The moon goddess Aliana looked at the only Lycanthroph left in existence. “You, the only son of Lord Trevinor, will only be able to escape the pain and loneliness when you find your mate”. Despite being the ruler of the werewolves clan, nobody was willing to marry the vicious Lycan king with excess bloodlust. But no one knew about the prophesy. Alpha Monroe's eldest daughter who was nothing but a waste was given to the supreme Lycan as his arranged bride. This waste of a daughter not only can't shift into her wolf form. But was just a beauty without brain, who acts arrogantly and self willed. Suddenly, on the day she was to get married, she died, causing a different soul to take over her body. When she opened her eyes, she was no longer the waste but a powerful witch, and the entertainment goddess Myra Monroe, who was poisoned by her best friend and fiancé. With her powers she's able to begin her revenge. Kyra: bring hell on earth to those who hurt me. Klein: spare more time to Pamper her.

An awkward and unattractive girl Maria Priscilla Bantoc came across an old woman named Helia Baal who owned a mysterious garden at the crag to the north and west of the craggy hill. She also had encountered a strange black riding apparition which first appeared once fateful stormy night when Maria was born. Things had been turning out difficult for the awkward and unattractive Maria, especially after the marriage of Celeste and the betrothal of Petunia, Maria's two sisters. The old witch named Helia Baal had trapped a powerful storm spirit named Elohim Hefasto, the mysterious black riding apparition. Maria had to save Elohim from Helia's entrapment and also save the people living at the craggy hill. However, at the end, Elohim had to choose to become a mortal or return to his home, the spirit world called Mundu.

On my birthday, the dining table was loaded with all my favorites. My mom had been cooking and baking the entire afternoon, insisting everything be perfect for when Mike got home from work so we could celebrate together. But then, he called and said his first love had been drugged at a bar, and he had to go help her. I stopped him and begged him not to go. Mike snapped at me. "Jesus, Em, don’t pull this jealous wife crap. She’s alone, defenseless, and unconscious—I can't let some random dude take advantage of her!" My mother heard those words and was so enraged that she had a heart attack. She died on the spot. Just like that, my mom died on my birthday. I called Mike, asking him to attend my mom's funeral. But before he could reply, I saw Cathy Miller's latest Instagram post, captioned: [Mikey… after all these years, it was always you.] Mike had liked it. My thumb moved before my brain caught up, typing out the only words that mattered: [A homewrecker and a lying bastard. Hope you rot together.]

She is a well-accomplished woman, one who has received the greatest respect among her friends, family, and colleagues. She almost has everything, the only regret she had was getting a one-night stand with someone named Juan. He is an average man who's contented with anything he has. A playful man where "commitment" is not in his vocabulary. His proudest decision was running away from the mistake he made one hot night in room 4201. This is a story about a faithful encounter between two people with completely opposite personalities. Watch how our Theressa Cruz catch our cunning Juanjo Manolo --- WARNING: This is story not suitable for children. The story will include appropriate words and scenes not recommended for kids. You have been warned. Thank you!

During the mandatory freshman orientation camp, my skin had flared up with a severe allergic reaction, so I didn't use the plastic washbasin the school handed out. Instead, I opened my suitcase and took out the custom silver basin I had brought from home. My roommate, Louisa Carter, immediately made a snide remark, drawling, "You're really something, huh? Kids from broke families like us are lucky to have any basin at all." I didn't bother responding. I simply pulled out my facial essence to do a cold compress, but she immediately rushed over, slapped the bottle out of my hand, and jabbed a finger at my face. "Bet you get tens of thousands a month for living expenses. You have a sugar daddy, don't you? Don't you feel guilty making your folks work their fingers to the bone back on the farm? People like you don't deserve to be at our school. I'm reporting you to the student counselor." I laughed in disbelief and slapped her. … The next morning, the family photo I'd left on my desk had been slashed to ribbons. Across the back, carved in ink, were the words: 'Daughter of a homewrecker. Go to hell.' I went straight to the police. While officers pulled the dorm security footage, our student counselor and the university president rushed in. The moment the president saw the man whose face had been cut apart in my photo, his legs nearly buckled. He almost dropped to his knees.

The freshman welcome party was loud—music blasting, people screaming over it. Then the external pacemaker on my chest started shrieking. 10 percent battery. Cold sweat hit fast. I always carried a backup. Always. I yanked open my backpack. No heavy medical battery pack. Just a flimsy power bank. One blinking bar.

When Elara Whitmore discovered her husband in bed with the one woman she was never supposed to compete with—his adopted sister—her world shattered in a single night. But betrayal wasn’t the worst part. They wanted her gone. Pregnant and alone, Elara overhears the sister’s plan to eliminate both her and the unborn child standing in the way of their twisted future. Instead of fighting back, she does something far more dangerous. She pretends to lose. With forged medical records claiming her baby is dead and divorce papers served without a word of protest, Elara disappears from their lives forever. Or so they believe. A chance encounter with a dying billionaire changes everything. Months later, Elara rises from the ashes as the sole heiress to a global empire worth billions. While her ex-husband’s world collapses under the manipulations of the very woman he chose over her, a silent observer begins pulling strings from the shadows. A brilliant young boy. A boy with her eyes. A boy with his blood. Years later, when the truth finally surfaces, the man who once discarded his wife will face the cruelest revelation of all— The child who destroyed his empire… is the son he tried to erase. And this time, there will be no forgiveness

Who knew a single lie could ruin a life this much? Natalie Rossi, a scholarship student from a poor background pretends to be rich to survive among Italy's elites. But when she names Leonardo Moretti as her boyfriend during a party game, the lie escalates into something more dangerous. Because Leonardo is real, and isn't a man whose name can be used easily without consequences. Overnight, Natalie becomes a target meant to be cleared off. Hunted, shamed and stripped of everything she has worked for, Natalie watches her world crumble until an unseen hand begins to shield her from chaos. Will Natalie pay the full price of her lies, or accept the hand reaching for her… and everything that comes with it?

After being reborn, the first thing I did was forge a medical report diagnosing chronic kidney disease. In my previous life, my nephew had been diagnosed with kidney failure, and he needed a transplant to survive. I rushed to get a matching test and donated one of my kidneys to him. But over time, my health deteriorated. At twenty, my body felt like it belonged to someone eighty. Even simple chores like sweeping the floor left me exhausted. I couldn't go out to work or earn a living, yet my brother and sister-in-law scolded me for "pretending to be sick." "It's just a kidney." my sister-in-law snapped. "Do you expect to leech off our family forever?" She even went so far as to buy a pair of fresh pig kidneys and smash them in my face. "Since we took one of yours, here's a new pair. Happy now?" Because I had lost a kidney, I died before the age of thirty, alone in a rented apartment. The next time I opened my eyes, I was back—before my nephew's diagnosis even came in.

On New Year's Eve, I prepare a feast. The clock strikes twelve, but my husband, Vincent Porter, still isn't home. My daughter, Lorelei Porter, tugs at my sleeve and holds up my phone. "Look Mommy, Daddy is at this lady's house!" Vincent has posted an update on Twitter. He is with Christine Snow, his childhood sweetheart. They are smiling at the camera, with a boy who looks about ten standing between them. In front of them sits a swan-shaped cake. The caption reads, "The most special day for the most special you." My heart sinks into my stomach. A marriage that came later in life can never compete with a pair of childhood sweethearts. I accept defeat.