Sensen Bone Setting

The night my in-laws were rushed to the hospital after a car accident, I hurried over to handle the situation. At the payment counter, I swiped my card—only to find that the joint account I shared with my husband had a mere two dollars left. I called my husband, Zarrick Thompson, over and over again. But he never picked up. It wasn't until later that I learned the truth—he had taken our money to celebrate his first love's birthday. Desperate, I borrowed seventy thousand from a friend to save my in-laws. But after they recovered, they flat-out denied everything. My husband, meanwhile, made no attempt to hide his relationship with her. He wanted me gone. To force me into a divorce, he went as far as setting me up—staging an affair, taking photos of me being humiliated. Then he used them to threaten me. Either I walked away with nothing, shouldering all our debts, or he would ruin me completely. I worked endlessly, day and night, to pay it all off. Until, one winter, I collapsed in a frozen alley and never got up again. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the accident.

In the two years after Bradley Vaughn's so-called "memory loss," we divorced seven times—all to keep his childhood crush Vivian Monroe happy. Number eight? Because she got pregnant. "You can't have kids anyway. Once Vivian has the baby, we'll get back together. You can raise the kid." That was his usual ice-cold line as he slid the papers across the table. That night, he kicked me out—said Vivian got nauseous just seeing me. I moved into another house. Alone. In the rain. Even after I landed in the ER from a near assault, he didn't bother asking if I was okay. Then one day, I spotted him at a clinic with Vivian. He rubbed her belly and laughed, "So what if she finds out I faked the amnesia? She can't live without me. Toss her a bone, she'll come crawling." I looked away, steady. Then my phone buzzed. [How did your checkup go?]

His lap is my throne and my body is his salvation. Orphaned and enslaved, I was sold to Prince Erwin's palace to serve as his sex slave. They said the prince drinks blood daily and has a taste for killing people. That only blood, violence, and screams can arouse his sexual desire. His favourite colour was reddish blood, and my hair was red. Perhaps that's why he fell in love with me, made love with me almost every night, but sometimes his demonic side took over and he raped me me brutally. But deep in my heart, I know he loved me. He adorned me with the jewels, burned his own king-father alive, for me. He still chose me even though he was married to a beautiful noblewoman. And I loved him as well. He is the king of my body, my heart, and my soul. The prophecy says that I will die by his hand, and before that happens, I must free him from the curse he was born with. He is the beast, and I am the beauty. Can the beauty heal the beast? **** This story contains some adult concepts such as: - Slavery, Harem, and reverse harem (since the setting is in the 16th. I opposed slavery) - Graphic sexual and violent scenes (stay away if you are under 18) - Bloody vengeance (may be distressing to some readers. If you are easily triggered, it may be best to avoid this book) - Gods, Goddesses vs Demons (Based on Greek mythology, not suitable if you are too religious) This story is a work of fiction, intended to satisfy readers' wildest smut and romantic fantasies. Please do not read this book if you dislike the above topics. You have been warned.

On the day my husband married my younger sister, I once again heard the divine message from the Astral Sanctuary: if I sever all ties to the mortal world within three days, I can reclaim the astral power I relinquished and return to the Astral Sanctuary. On the first day, I publicly cut my hair to symbolize the severing of love and signed the separation letter, ending my three-year marriage to the man I once loved. Holding my sister in his arms, he looked at me with disdain. His words dripped with mockery as he called me petty and jealous, claiming that sparing me the title of an equal wife had been his greatest act of kindness. On the second day, I drove a blade into myself six times, severing my bond with my cherished elder brother. He stood by, cold and unfeeling, sneering that I was nothing more than a desperate fool, resorting to theatrics to compete for his affection—a devotion he reserved entirely for my sister. On the third day, I clenched my teeth and carved through my own flesh and bone, severing my connection to the parents who had given me life. Enraged, they called me ungrateful and declared I was unworthy—not just of being their daughter, but even of being compared to my perfect sister. In the end, I succumbed to exhaustion and blood loss. My spirit ascended to the Astral Sanctuary, where I reclaimed my true identity as an Astral Maiden. When my family discovered my lifeless body left behind in the mortal realm, they all descended into madness.

When my best friend died, his wife, Mia Lewis, was eight months pregnant. Mia said she didn't want her baby growing up without a father. I owed my best friend my life. He saved me, literally pulled me from death's door. So I stepped up, marrying Mia and raising their son as my own. Mia loved her career, so I quit mine. Traded my job for diapers and school runs. For seven whole years, I cooked, cleaned, folded laundry, and handled the housework. Rain or shine, sickness or health, I was there—every single day. Mia, though? She stayed cold, distant. Her warmth only surfaced in the bedroom—and even then, it was a flicker, never a flame. Just soft sighs and breathy murmurs, like she was playing a role she couldn't wait to finish. Afterward, she would quietly check the condom, as if she couldn't trust me. Then came New Year's Eve. A snap. A tear. A broken condom. Her fury struck like a thunderclap. She locked me out on the balcony, left me standing in the freezing rain, soaked to the bone as the wind howled like a wounded beast. Teeth chattering, I shivered as I watched the door like a dog, waiting to be let in. Then I saw him. Our boy, Ethan Bailey. Six years old. My son, at least in name. He came running with an umbrella in his hand. For a second, my heart leapt. 'Maybe, just maybe…' But he didn't even look at me. Just walked past in silence and handed the umbrella to the nanny heading out. Right then and there, something inside me cracked. I knew it was time to go.

My mind, my soul, my heart are all stone. Tears, pain and sorrow all dwell in me, inside one body. I'm numb, I'm brusied I'm a broken part. Fifteen years ago, I lost every reason to live. Fifteen years ago the bone crushing hands of the universe fell on my two shoulder. I lost everything!!! Dove...Dove Rivera, I was once a happy, child with my baby brother Kevin by my side. I knew all the happiness in the world. My dad, a prominent and honest politician and my mom a renowned lawyer. A family of four living the best life. But..it all came to a standstill in just one night...one cool night. "Dove!!!" Mom screamed. "Dove wake up" "My dear, the house is on fire" "Run!!!" Mom screamed tearily. Those were the only words , I remembered and she was the only and last person I saw that night. I managed to escape but they didn't. Even as a child...I knew that it was no ordinary fire, it was an attack. And all my nights, days, minutes, hours all I think of is revenge. It whisper in my head every minute "Revenge! Revenge!! Revenge!!!"

My wolf has a rare gift—she can detect lies and reveal the truth about what anyone tries to deceive. My Alpha—Theron Shadewound—loves me dearly. For as long as I've known him, he's never once lied to me. However, a month before our mating ceremony, my wolf catches a whisper of truth from his heart. He had thought, "I'm holding the mating ceremony with Mirelle next week, and Arynn must never find out." I freeze when I realize something. He'll be using the ballroom I spent two months meticulously setting up to host a mating ceremony next week with his childhood sweetheart, Mirelle Hollowmaw. As it turns out, my mating ceremony, scheduled a month later, is nothing but a joke. Quietly, I pack my belongings and book a ticket to leave the Nightcrest pack. On the day Theron and Mirelle pledge themselves to each other, I walk away without looking back.

Music brings joy,music calms the nerves but can a song bring led to death…… a music box with diabolical setting,words of the box,lyrics of the music,if you want to die listen to their rhythm. Victoria is seventeen-year-old that lives with her parents, being born in a family that loved her and cared for her, never had she felt left alone. But after the death of her father, her mom married again to a wealthy high-class man whose reputation is all that he cares about.

***Captivating Storm Book 1*** Orphaned by the unexpected attack of a rogue pack, Yusria gets adopted by the Beta of the Setting Dawn Pack. 18 years of living under the neglect and abuse of her adopted family leads her becoming the mate of the Alpha's son. Just when she thinks her life would take a turn for the better, she dies under the manipulation of her husband and adopted sister. Reborn and fueled with a desire to find her fated mate, Yusria sets out of the Setting Dawn Pack to embark on a journey that, unknowingly, sets in motion a prophecy long forgotten and buried under the passage of time. "Mate!" The strangled cry of the Emperor rendered the spectating Alphas and Lunas speechless. 'Mate? What mate...?' 'Must be Miss Eradani, right? The Emperor's Lover?' 'Of course! Otherwise, who did you expect? Heh...It's not like the Lykan Emperor can claim a true mate!' Disdainful scoffs and mocking sneers surfaced on the faces of the Eastern Empire's prominent alpha leaders. The barely audible cry of 'mate' from the Great Eastern Emperor Zeonen's mouth made them look at the latter with scorn. Mate? For all his power and wealth, in their eyes, he would forever remain beneath them for being born a Lykan, a creature infamously deprived of the greatest gift of the Moon Goddess. A true mate.

A human. My mate? No. That wasn't right. Humans were weak. They were servants at best—slaves at worst. They didn't belong with us. They weren't made for love. I turned suddenly and slammed my fist into the stone wall beside me. The sharp crack of bone against stone echoed through the room. The boy had been dragged away, out of my sight, and I still felt the burn of his presence in my chest. My claws had already pushed out, sharp and uncontrollable. My eyes burned, the edges of my vision tinted red. The beast within me was on the edge of taking over. "He's nothing!" I roared to no one in particular. "He can't be my mate!"