Seconds Minutes

"I Alpha Kai of the Lycan pack reject you as my mate" Karen unexpectedly heard those words of rejection shattering down her soul, breaking her heart into pieces, Worst of all was the hatred his eyes bore as he peered straightly into hers and said those words of rejection. She stood there in her own agony as she watched the handsome young man that she had been attracted to few minutes ago turned his shoulder on her and Walked away. Why was life this cruel to her? Rejected and always maltreated by her own father who was an Alpha of the Cresent pack, she had always looked forward to her Mate loving her, and now a second rejection? *** Alpha Kai, the alpha of the Lyca pack felt no absolute regret as he spat out those words. How could he feel regret for a murderer's daughter? Alpha Kai had waited so long for this moment, for her to mark her eighteenth birthday. He had it all planned( kidnapping her and using her as a slave) and couldn't wait for her to be his slave in order to carry out a revenge mission he had for so long plotted. She maybe innocent, but using her as a slave in order to pay for her father's heinous crime was the only way he had thought he would gain his desired revenge. What happens when love struck and then he found out about her past, would his cold hearted heart open up and learn to love her? A love no one saw coming A rejection that only made them bonded more A love that arose from pure hatred.

I was sitting in City Hall, about to sign that damn mate bond certificate with Logan—Alpha of the Eastside Moonclaws—when his phone buzzed. One glance. Then he stood up like this was all just another errand. Didn’t even flinch when he said: “Something came up. Let’s push the bond signing to another day, yeah?” And just like that, he was gone. Left me sitting alone, surrounded by bonded pairs, all glowing with that sickly sweet “forever” vibe. Why? Because Emma, his darling little childhood packmate, twisted her ankle during pack-speed training—trying to keep up with the advanced wolves when she barely passed the basic shifts. Ten minutes later, I get a text: “Emma’s injury’s kinda serious. I gotta stay with her. Let’s move the wedding, okay?” Just another time—maybe the last—Logan picked her over me. But this time? No tears. No begging. No rage. The clerk gave me a quiet look, like she already knew how the story ended. “Ma’am... do you still want to proceed?” I pulled out my phone.Didn’t wait for him to change his mind. The clerk gave me that soft, pitying look. “Ma’am... do you still want to proceed?” I shook my head, and dialed home. The moment my Beta sister picked up. “Tell Alpha Dad I’m coming back to the Ridge. Today.” A pause. “You sure?” “Yeah,” I said, standing up, my voice steady. “I’m done here.” And just like that, I walked out. Not just from the building—but from him.

Before the contract was even signed, the client's representative casually said he was craving pancakes with maple syrup. I didn't hesitate. I texted my fiancé, Nigel Cross, and asked him to stand in line and grab some. He came back with the box, all proud of himself. The client took one bite, and within seconds, his face went red. Hives bloomed across his neck. He shot to his feet, furious, and called the whole deal off on the spot. Then he turned around and handed the million-dollar order to Olivia Field, the intern who had rushed to grab him allergy meds. Three months of grinding work were gone just like that. I stood there, my throat tight, trying not to fall apart. Nigel squeezed my shoulder, his voice soft as he said, "It was just bad luck. Don't beat yourself up." I nodded weakly, drained of energy. But the second I stepped away, I heard him laughing in the break room with his friend. "That guy's seriously allergic to mango. Good thing I added mango syrup to the pancakes. Olivia's about to score a huge year-end bonus. Enough for a down payment on her new apartment." His friend hesitated. "Melissa hasn't slept in a month over that deal. She was working while she was sick. She needed that money for her mom's surgery—" Nigel waved him off, already annoyed. "She has me. Isn't that enough? Olivia earned this." My hands curled into fists so tightly that my nails dug into my palms. Bad luck? Yeah, right. Nigel had planned every second of it. And now, he thought he could smooth it over by marrying me someday, toss me a few cheap words, and I would just swallow it. I was done with that disgusting man.

BREE LEV. I thought it stands for something simple until I heard his deep soulful voice. A single hello was all it take for him to have my undivided attention. Akala ko hulog siya ng langit. Isang anghel na magsasalba sa akin. I was all wrong. He's a fallen angel with dark blue eyes and cold leather-covered hands. A man mantled with power and veiled with sin. We're opposites. I'm weird and a social butterfly. He's terrifying and brooding. A lone wolf. I love pinks and swirls. He prefers pointed knives and black guns. Darkness seems to be his fave companion and death his pastime. I, on the other hand, will always choose life. He told me to stay away from him. Guess, you know by now, that I did the exact opposite, right? I stayed 'cause I want him so bad, it hurts. I, Bree De Veyra, daughter of one of the families of The Council, lay my life to the head of the Foedus Corp– Lev Petrov. My father's sworn enemy. The master manipulator and my protector. Or my destroyer? LEV Three years ago, one phone call, two minutes. I swore I will kill her. Four weeks before her 16th birthday, I did the unthinkable. I destroyed her trust and left her. Broken and beyond repair. Twenty-four hours before her 18th birthday, nagbalik ako para bawiin s'ya. Twelve hours after I abduct her, we exchange I dos. Eight seconds after our first kiss, I know I will protect her with my gun and with my life. I, Lev Petrov, Heir to a fallen empire, vows to avenge Bree from all of the people that wronged her. It will be my life's mission until the last drop of my sinful blood...I will never let them rest in peace.

Excerpt; Mate!” I placed a shocked hand over my mouth. I hadn't intended to blurt that out, but it had just happened. My wolf had just growled that out. Aaron was my mate? So he had not been lying when he’d said I was his mate? This was the strangest thing to have ever happened to me. I had no idea how to respond, I sat still, watching him. “Finally, you agree too.” His face was blanketed in some emotions that had something within my chest moving funny. “I…I…” I swallowed, my gaze transfixed on him, in his eyes, unable to look anywhere else. His sterling grey eyes staring as though they could see through my soul. He drew nearer, I felt my body leaning towards him too. And in seconds our lips had locked on each other’s. Fire exploded in my mouth down to the other parts of my body. I wound my arm around his neck, taking the kiss deeper. Even within the confines of the car where body contact was limited, I was still feeling the flame of attraction burning me up greedily, eating away at my resistance and rationality. His thumb trailed over my breast, the moan that escaped my lips was involuntary and the liquid pull below my stomach grew intense. Abruptly, he broke off the kiss, our lips were a swollen evidence of what had happened. “Let me take you inside.” Humiliated for almost all her life and then thrown out of the pack she had grown to call home, she didn't expect that fate could ever smile at her. Once a taunted girl, now an Alpha's stepdaughter. What more does fate have in stall for her? "Hey mate! Wanna play?"

"I, Zade Matthews, Alpha of the High-claw pack, reject you, Sierra Whitmore, to be my mate and Luna to my pack. You are to work here and obey every command and to accept my rejection" Nobody wants to hear the word rejection. Especially when you're not even strong enough to handle the aftermath of it. At 18, I had just got my wolf, Mina. I was not supposed to mate with an Alpha. I'm an Omega living an Omega life. But the moon-goddess had other ideas, and I was mated to the cruellest of Alphas there is. I'm what they would call a slave to the pack. In other words. I was dispensable if they didn't want or need me. So, when I was invited for breakfast with the Alpha, my mate, I should have taken that as my first red flag. I have never eaten with them. Even when my parents were alive. 6 Years later, just after my 24th birthday, the mate-less Gala was just around the corner once again, and I was tired. Emotionally and physically tired. I had nothing to live for. I had nothing to hope for. Every Omega knows they don't get a second chance at love and every omega had to accept that. That was simply our fate. So, being assigned to accommodate Alpha Nikolai's room was not one of my top things to enjoy, but here I was. Five minutes was all I wanted to have to myself when cleaning the room on the very top floor for the Alpha of all Alphas, so I stopped and sat down to rest my aching body. And cried. Only...the scent of all scents hits me. His scent. Alpha Nikolai Anderson. He doesn't know me, but he chooses to love me. He chooses me.

Dark Mafia Scene “Who laid a hand on you? Dallion's voice was low, cold, and dangerous. His dark gaze bore into her, daring her to stay silent. When she didn’t respond, the tension snapped like a whip, his voice booming through the room, “Who?” The butler, standing rigid against the wall, swallowed hard before stammering out the words, “It... it was Mr. Rivers, sir.” The atmosphere turned deadly as Dallion's jaw clenched, fury igniting in his eyes. “Bring him to me.” The butler’s eyes widened in fear. “N-now, sir? It’s... it’s late.” Dallion's hand, once braced against the wall near her head, slowly curled into a fist. His eyes never left her face, his possessiveness was palpable. Without looking at the butler, his voice dropped to a lethal calm, “Do you need a better time? Or shall I break your legs to teach you urgency?” The butler didn’t need any more encouragement. He fled the room, returning twenty minutes later with a trembling Mr. Rivers. “Dallion, my friend, what’s all this about?” Rivers began, his voice casual as if nothing was amiss. But Dallion wasn't’t here for pleasantries. His eyes slid to the knife stabbed into the apple on the table, and in one fluid motion, he yanked it free, the blade glinting in the dim light. Without a word, Dallion grabbed Rivers outstretched hand, slamming it onto the table. The sharp scream that followed echoed in the room as Dallion, with one swift movement, sliced through the man’s fingers. Blood splattered across the polished wood as Rivers screamed in agony, clutching his mutilated hand. “No one touches what belongs to me,” Dallion's voice was eerily calm, his expression devoid of any sympathy.

My husband, Chandler Goodwin, claims that he doesn't understand what the phrases "silent treatment" or "giving the cold shoulder" mean. Yet, in the three years we have been married, he has never once spoken to me sweetly. The first time we have a falling out, I remain proud and dignified. We end up ignoring each other for seven days straight. The seventh time we have a cold standoff, I start to panic a little. However, despite trying all sorts of methods, he doesn't back down. The 11th time it happens, I have already learned to work through my emotions myself. Chandler doesn't even need to say anything before I take the initiative to apologize first. I simply think that he's just a naturally indifferent person, that nobody can warm his stone-cold heart. Then, on the third year of our marriage, I accidentally ruin his dress shirt while ironing it. Chandler doesn't say a word, but that very night, he packs his things and moves into a hotel. On the third day of being blocked, I head to his company with a handwritten apology. While passing by his office, I spot him leaning over to shoot his angry assistant a doting smile. "I'm sorry for raising my voice at you just now and upsetting you. It's been 57 minutes since you started ignoring me. Please stop giving me the cold shoulder, alright?" I freeze on the spot, the apology letter in my hand practically burning my fingers. As it turns out, it's not that he doesn't know what the silent treatment means—it's just that I've never been the person he wants to coax.

It’s Monday and my first day of my new school. I drive my car around to where everyone else is parked, so I find myself a parking spot. Then I find the front office and go in and get my schedule. My first class is math, so I walk into the room and I’m the first one in there so I walk up to the teacher and hand him my paper to sign that I have to take back to the front office this afternoon. “Hello Miss. Billie Green I’m Mrs. Smart. It’s very nice to meet you.” The math teacher says, then sings the paper. You can go find yourself a set. I would try to find one in the front on the left-hand side. The kids pretty much already have the back full.” She tells me, and really it’s okay. I kinda like the front anyway. I make my way to a seat that looks vacant and sit down. Kids start piling in about five minutes later. And walking to their seats, there’s a tiny little girl that comes and seats down behind me. She introduces herself as Shaylee Apple. “Hello Shaylee Apple I’m Billie Green.” I tell her and hold my hand out to shake hers. I turn back around in my seat about the same time as a tall guy that has dirty blonde hair cut into spikes all over, ash gray eyes, so gray I can see the color all the way in my seat. He’s wearing a tight fitted gray shirt, and blue jeans. He has a very handsome face, but then he looks at me and instantly I see hatred in his eyes. What the heck, he doesn’t even know me. .

Mon petit ami était officier de police. Je me suis retrouvée menacée par des agresseurs et la bombe fixée à mon corps était sur le point d’exploser. Il ne me restait plus que dix minutes à vivre. L’un des agresseurs, dans son froideur calculée, m’a ordonné d’appeler mon petit ami. Mais lorsqu’il a pris l’appel, c’était un déluge de mots cruels qui m’a frappée de plein fouet : « Romy, tu es folle ou quoi ? Es-tu prête à tout sacrifier pour capter mon attention ? Tu sais, le chat de Sylvie est coincé dans un arbre depuis trois jours, et elle l’aime plus que tout, comme si sa vie en dépendait ! Si tu me fais encore perdre une seconde, sache que tu es une meurtrière ! » Dans le même instant, une voix claire et douce, celle d’une jeune fille, s’est glissée dans le combiné : « Merci, Liam, tu es vraiment incroyable. » Et cette femme n’était autre que l'amie de mon petit ami depuis leur enfance... Alors que la bombe menaçait de tout engloutir, dans un dernier geste désespéré, j’ai envoyé un message à Liam : « Adieu, je crois qu’il vaut mieux que nos chemins ne se croisent plus jamais, même dans une autre vie. »