Silent Sanctuary Ikaw Lamang Lyrics

After years of running from her past, Lissa returns to the one place she never wanted to see again—her childhood home. The town hasn’t changed, but Lissa has. Now a mother, a wife, and a survivor, she’s trying to rebuild a life while standing on the crumbling foundation of her trauma. Just a few months. Just until she finds her footing. But the house doesn’t let go so easily. It smells of mildew and memory. Dust covers more than furniture—it coats every secret Lissa tried to bury. As she navigates motherhood, old friendships, and a strained relationship with her sister, Lissa discovers more than ghosts in the attic. A photograph violently scribbled out. A letter from someone she hoped was lost to time. And a journal that brings her back to the girl she used to be. Her husband, Colt, tries to be her anchor. Her son, Lucas, is her reason to fight. But a single name—just one letter, T—is all it takes to fracture her resolve. The past isn’t dead. It’s waiting in the basement. In a letter tucked behind old receipts. In the quiet corners of her memory where no one else can go. As the days pass, the house begins to feel like a trap.Lissa must decide if she’s strong enough to dig through the wreckage of her past… or if some secrets are better left buried. Told with raw emotion and atmospheric suspense, House of Quiet Screams is a story of trauma, resilience, and the silent strength it takes to confront what once felt un faceable. For Lissa, surviving was never the end of the story—facing what comes after might be the beginning.

All Seraph Hampton wanted was to dream beyond the orphanage walls. That dream finally becomes reality when she’s picked as the only intern among nine full-time workers. At first, she’s unhappy,until she discovers the company belongs to none other than Luca Zhao. Tech billionaire. National hotcake. And the man she’s secretly crushed on for years. But everything changes when Seraph is accidentally sent to the 60th floor… and walks in on a freshly-showered Luca, wrapped in nothing but a towel. Her impulsive fangirl instincts take over,she hugs him. Luca’s classy, bossy, and sharp-tongued assistant, Miss Harper, walks in and nearly fires her. But Luca redeems Seraph on the spot, promoting her from intern to personal assistant,sending Miss Harper into silent flames. Working beside Luca should’ve been a dream. Instead, it becomes a twisted game of secrets. A hidden photo album reveals the unthinkable: her late mother once married Fernandez—Luca’s father. Which makes him her stepbrother. And that’s only the beginning… The storm hits when a feared and powerful figure known only as The Don of Dawn arrives Seraph’s real father, who abandoned them. Just as Seraph tries to process this, Miss Harper,Luca’s manipulative assistant— calls this same man Dad. Secret half-sisters. Forbidden attraction. A forced engagement bound by legacy and blood. Now Seraph is caught between dangerous love and truths. As she hacks phones, sneaks through private doors, and digs into elite secrets, she’s torn between revenge… and the one man who might be innocent in it all—Luca Zhao. As kisses and intimate moments turn into confessions, and loyalty is tested on every side, one thing is clear: This isn’t just an internship. It’s a battlefield. And Seraph Hampton is the unknown weapon.

In the coastal quiet of Baler, a studio is born—not of architecture, but of intention.* Founded by Yam, a poet whose words cradle pain gently, and Franc, an artist who paints tenderness into walls, the studio becomes a refuge for those learning to stay—with grief, love, longing, and themselves. As visitors arrive, they leave behind more than footprints: a sigh recorded in bamboo, a poem tucked into the “Found Letters” shelf, a mural painted in crooked lines. Through zines, tea, silence, and sketchbooks, the studio teaches softness as revolution. Ren creates the *Window of Soft Returns*, an installation of anonymous voice recordings—each whisper forming a community of echoes. Drew builds the *Staircase With No Wrong Turns*, inviting people to walk through emotions without shame. Franc offers brushstrokes as brave work, and Yam curates writing circles that map healing in half sentences. Together, they host festivals that feel like hugs, and they begin traveling their archive, letting softness cross oceans. Even those who once left—like Miguel—return, discovering that some doors never truly close. Others, like Tala, capture the studio’s sound and turn it into a podcast of breath and becoming. Over seventy chapters, the studio transforms into something larger than itself: a mural of memory, a sanctuary for second chances, a place where return is sacred and voice is proof of survival. In the final bloom, the studio stands not as a monument—but as a reminder: > *“Staying isn’t easy. > But chosen together, > it becomes home.”*

‘Touch her. Claim her. She is ours. Claim her!’ His wolf, Varn, thundered through his mind. Then— “I reject you, Servant number 16, as my mate.” Prince Lucien smirked, “The moon goddess must be indeed out of her mind to mate me with a lowlife like you. I command you to accept this rejection!” “I accept.” As a nameless slave in the Moonrage Pack, Nyssa knew her place—silent and invisible until the night of the prince’s engagement when fate dared to whisper that she was more than a nameless slave but his. Prince Lucien’s mate Instead of claiming her, he rejects her to protect his crown and image. Rejected and ordered to be killed, Nyssa was left to die. Or so they thought. Resurrected by the moon goddess, the nameless slave was given a name and a purpose. A new life with the same face, she wasn’t servant number 16 anymore, she was now Nyssa Wales, the messenger of the moon goddess, sent on a mission back to earth. When Nyssa steps back into his world, she was no longer the nameless slave he once knew. She has come for vengeance. Now she’s the woman who could destroy him… or save him. "You own me, Nyssa. Every part of me belongs to you" "I'm yours. Completely" What happens when the mate you thought you lost forever comes back stronger, angrier, and no longer yours?

She has never spoken a word. Not because she chose silence— But because life chose it for her. Aradhya Mishra, mute since childhood and walking with a painful limp in one leg, has lived in the background of the world. Quiet, observant, and emotionally scarred, she’s learned to express her thoughts through gestures, eyes that speak volumes, and a heart that still dares to dream. She's fragile on the outside—but only fools mistake her silence for weakness. He was born to dominate. Avyaan Singh Rathore—aka MADVIPER—is the brutal, cold-blooded mafia king. Ruthless, feared, and untouchable, he rules the underworld as the head of the secretive gang THE VEYRIX. His name alone silences rooms. He doesn't believe in love. Doesn't care for innocence. Until he's forced to marry her. A girl who cannot speak. A man who doesn't listen. Tied in a bond neither wanted— And for a reason neither knows. What begins as a mistake turns into something much more twisted. A war of silent stares, guarded hearts, and slow-burning emotions. She's the calm to his storm. The quiet to his rage. And perhaps—the only voice his soul can still hear. But love doesn’t bloom easily in a world soaked with blood and secrets. When two broken souls collide under a lie, Can truth set them free— Or will it destroy them both?

Tate flirts with danger the same way he flirts with men. Recklessly. So when his father’s debts land him in the hands of Enzo Moretti, a cold-blooded mafia boss with a smile as sharp as his threats, Tate should be terrified. Instead, he flirts harder, hiding sharp eyes behind thick glasses like he doesn’t see the monster watching him. But he does. He always did. Enzo is no ordinary criminal. He’s a werewolf with a body built to break, a past soaked in blood, and a temper barely kept in check. Tate is supposed to be collateral—silent, obedient, forgotten. But Tate? He’s loud, shameless, stubborn enough to make Enzo feel. For months, they circle each other—clashing, teasing, burning. Enzo should’ve killed him, but instead, he steals him. Holds him. Breaks him open until their craving for each other twists between punishment and pleasure, until need feels like worship, and pain starts to taste like love. Then, when Tate thinks he’s escaped, when he thinks he’s free—Enzo lets him go. When someone else tries to take what’s already his, Enzo doesn’t hesitate. He drags Tate back, and now the boy wears his name, carries his ring, and sleeps in his bed. Maybe Tate should hate him. But he doesn’t. Because he never wanted gentle. He never wanted safe. He wanted this—blinding, consuming desire. And Enzo? He doesn’t let go. Not when he’s tasted him. Marked him. Owned him. Because monsters like him don’t share. Not even with their own blood.

Sold. Betrayed. Unleashed. Selene Vitale has spent her life as a shadow in her own home the neglected twin the unwanted daughter, the mafia princess no one respected. While her sister Livia basked in their father’s love and the promise of power, Selene endured bruises, hunger, and the whispers of servants. But when a deal with the infamous Black Crescent goes wrong, her father offers her as payment to settle his debt. To four ruthless Dons who rule the underworld. To four monsters with a secret. They are werewolves. Dante, the cold and calculating Prime Alpha. Rafe, the brutal enforcer with a hair-trigger temper. Nikolai, the sadistic spy master who plays with minds. Kael, the silent warden of the underground. They expect a broken human girl to torment. They get a storm. As Selene fights back, she uncovers the truth: her father has been drugging her for years to suppress what she truly is a rare female Alpha, a Luna born to rule. But awakening her power comes at a price. Livia, consumed by jealousy, sells her out to a rival pack. The Dons, who once saw her as prey, now burn the city to get her back. And when Selene finally embraces her birthright, she faces a choice destroy the Dons who owned her… or claim them as hers.

Lilienne Winslow "I'm a mess of warm chaos but I won't let you see it in my eyes, I smile every time but I won't let you see the sadness behind them ,it's pathetic" Rowan Sinclair "Your chaos doesn't frighten me; it draws me in. you wear a smile that dances like sunlight through shadows, but know this, my love: I see beyond the facade. Behind those shimmering eyes lies a world of storms, and it's not pathetic, it's beautifully human. Let me be your anchor in this tempest; let me cradle your sadness and transform it into something radiant. Even when you feel lost, I'll be right here, holding you tight." Neither of them ever wished for the union of marriage, not the weight of a promise, that felt more like chains. two souls adrift, untamed, untouched by love's hand.Yet fate, with silent steps, wove them into one, In a bond neither sought, but neither could withstand. He, a man of steel, a man of few words and of unshaken resolve, She, a spirit of grace, a woman of quiet strength,carrying wounds, no one cared to see. In the quiet vows exchanged, hearts kept their guard,But in the silence between them, emotions sparked, unbarred. In his silence, she found a space to breathe. In her fragility, he found something worth protecting.

Two brothers. One forbidden girl. A dangerous craving no one wants to admit. When Sienna Cruz moves in with her new family, she never expects her quiet life to unravel in the hands of her drop-dead gorgeous stepbrothers—Simon and Soren Rivera. Simon is her silent protector. Cold to the world, but warm to her. He’s always there—watching, caring, saving—but never touching. Because to him, she’s off-limits. A craving he refuses to give in to. He has a girlfriend, a reputation, and walls too high to climb. Soren, his twin, is the opposite—bold, magnetic, and unashamed about wanting her. And he doesn't care if it ruins everything. Sienna is caught between Simon’s tortured restraint and Soren’s reckless desire. But the longer she stays, the harder it gets to tell love from lust, protection from possession. She was supposed to be their sister. But one wants her heart. The other wants her body. And she might not survive either.

Roseline's stomach turned and her fist clenched tightly around the handle of the big travel box beside her. She heard the clanging sound of the metallic head of Thompson's belt meeting the ground. Next, quite footsteps. Then, Thompson appeared in her view, like a ghost she didn't believe existed. He was completely bare, with his hairy chest rising and falling slowly, his cock shooting out in front like a gun ready to be fired, his balls bloated from desire, swinging from side to side as he walked closer to bed. Roseline's feet stuck to the ground and her eyes refused to blink as they looked on. "That's it, my boy. Hmm! I like what I see", the red hair gasped, rolling her eyes longingly at Thompson. As Thompson climbed unto the bed, his eyes totally locked in hers, she drew her breasts closer him, then, proceeded to rock the big pumpkins against the flushed skin of his face. "You like them?", she asked, moaning lightly. Thompson paused. Then, in a defiant move of uncontrollable desire, dug his chin into her breasts, burying his entire face in them. "Ouch", she gasped, then broke into a weak laugh, pushing his head more into her chest. "The damn bra", she spoke again, twisting uncomfortably as she threw her hands behind her to unhook the material. But Thompson caught her hands. Without words, his head still hidden in her cleavage, he slowly returned her hands to his head. Obliging to his silent command, she cackled loudly, pressing her chest even more into his face and then, with her tongue, glided across his neck and ears hungrily. Roseline froze. She wanted to scream but in that moment, she forgot how to.