Novel & Cerita Snape Lily

Kyra Hopkins doesn’t believe in marriage and long term relationships. She co-manages her dream job with her two best friends Lily and Bipasha. With the two worried about her no-dating state, they hit a club with plans to GET KYRA LAID. In a White tiny dress they leave her in a bar nurturing a glass of water and pondering what exactly her newest client’s birthday party theme should be. Horses or cars. That’s what she voices out to the sinfully hot man who took the seat beside hers. And he’s got Kyra’s feet feeling like they were lit on fire. Worst of all, she got what it meant to have butterflies flutter in your stomach walls. Best of all, the man knows what she wants and he wants it too and more. Kyra got in for the ride of her life, planned for a weekend because remember? Kyra doesn’t do long term. But then, neither is Nicholai Damien Ivanov or Sin as he’s more popularly known as into long term relationships. One night stands or at a stretch a weekend fling. Why does the angel in white getting stuck in his head and refusing to leave? Why couldn’t his PI track her from the little information she dropped about herself. The questions haunted his nights and refused to leave until he caught sight of his Angel in a black dress on another man’s arm, then his sister hugged her referring to her as Kyra while his Angel introduced herself to him as April. Sin got his answer and meant to show her how much they weren’t over yet. In fact they hadn’t even begun. It was just the beginning of Nicholai Ivanov’s obsession with his one-night stand.

They were already married for three years when Alpha Damian Zeus’s long-lost first love, Lily, returned bringing along a five-year-old pup. Luna Ariana Volkstane slid the formal rejection request across the table. "Let's end this bond. It's better for you, me, and your first love." He just smirked. "You want me to reject you? You think you can break our bond that easily?" So she did. Ariana cut ties with him completely, poured herself into her career, and rose to global fame as a legendary healer, her knowledge of rare herbs, wolf anatomy, and ancient magic sought after across continents. The powerful suitors lined up. The Alpha of an overseas empire whispered, "Ariana, hurry up and perform the severing ritual. I can't wait to claim you." A powerful pack leader vowed, "I'll be there with you the day you break the bond." A legendary wolf attorney promised, "I'll handle your rejection case with the pack council myself." Ariana just rubbed her temples. It's not that she didn't want the split, she wanted it more than anything, it's just that the Alpha she was mated to refused to let go. Finally, she announced, "Whoever can officially get me rejected, I'll put you at the head table of my bond-breaking celebration." Not long after, Alpha Damian was served the official rejection request right in the middle of an emergency pack council meeting. That same afternoon, he was attacked by rogues at the gates of his own territory. When Ariana showed up at the pack infirmary with healing herbs, she repeated calmly, "Let's sever the mate bond. It's better for you, me, and everyone else." But the cold, untouchable Alpha pulled her into his arms, his eyes blood-red with fury. "You want me to reject you? Over my dead body."

I was born with an extraordinary talent for being slow. In elementary school, my classmates laughed in my face for being an orphan. I proudly said, "That's right. I'm the only orphan in the whole school. That makes me the coolest!" The principal happened to pass by and thought I had been bullied so badly I had snapped. Furious, he called their parents and they gave them a beating when they got home. During my freshman year of high school, a boy tried to prank me by confessing to me with a bouquet of white lilies. I accepted them with a smile. "Thank you. How did you know lilies were my favorite?" After that, every time I saw him at school, I would smile and say, "I really liked the white lilies you gave me." For the next three years, everyone called him Lily instead. Later, my wealthy biological parents found me and brought me home. On my first day there, the fake heiress set me up by pretending I had pushed her down, then cried, "I made a mistake. Please don't hurt me!" My parents and older brother rushed over in a panic, but before they could accuse me of anything, realization struck. "You're practicing acting, right? I haven't even done my part yet! Let's do it again!" With that, I pulled her up and shoved her hard to the floor again. When my family saw how calm I was, they nodded in relief. Later, the whole family went to Harbor City for a banquet for the rich, and the fake heiress pushed me into a dark room. In front of me stood Harbor City's ruthless ruler. On the floor lay a man covered in blood, barely alive. I covered my mouth in surprise. The man narrowed his eyes dangerously and walked toward me. I said excitedly, "This is my first time seeing a movie set. Can I be in it too?"

Madam Pratt, my mother-in-law, was in critical condition after a car accident, desperately needing surgery. However, as the lead surgeon, I—Lilianne Davis—stood by, casually scrolling through short videos on my phone. My best friend, Tiffany Owens, who was also a doctor, was far more anxious than I was. She grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the operating room. “Lily, why are you still stalling? Hurry up and save her!” I took a step back, clutching my stomach in pain as her face twisted in shock. “I have cramps so bad I can’t even stand. You do it.” In my last life, the moment I heard about Madam Pratt’s accident, I had swallowed a painkiller and rushed into surgery, working for hours to stabilize her. I had barely stepped away from the operating table when alarms blared. “Lilianne, what have you done? The patient is experiencing acute hemolysis!” “Call the family now!” Gareth Pratt stormed in, his face twisted with rage. He slapped me hard in the face. “Lil, you’re a professional surgeon, yet you gave my mother the wrong blood transfusion?!” I froze, reaching for Madam Pratt’s medical report to explain, only to find that the A-type blood I had seen before had somehow changed to B-type. The medical board arrived, and a blood test revealed traces of hallucinogens in my system. “Unbelievable! Taking illegal substances before surgery? That’s a cardinal sin for a doctor!” In the chaos, Emma Pratt, Gareth’s teenage sister, grabbed a scalpel and stabbed me multiple times. Blood gushed from my arteries, and I collapsed in a pool of crimson. As my vision faded, I couldn’t understand what had happened. I had never taken illegal drugs. Besides, I was absolutely certain of Madam Pratt’s blood type. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the moment right before stepping into the operating room.

Everyone knew Elio Carbone, Don of the Carbone family, was a cold-hearted womanizer. He had one rule: never sleep with the same woman twice. But for me, he broke it. The first day after our breakup, he stood outside the old Bianchi estate for a day and a night, his entire security detail in tow, just to win me back. The second day, he flew to Sicily and bought the deed to my family's ancestral estate at auction for triple its value, and had it delivered to me. The third day, he tattooed my favorite flower, the lily, over his heart. The tattoo artist said he refused any anesthetic and didn't make a sound. Later, at a banquet for the Five Families, in front of all the other Dons, he sliced his palm and made a blood oath. He swore loyalty only to Eleonora Bianchi for the rest of his life; if he broke his vow, he would pay with his life. After a year of his relentless pursuit, his devotion finally wore me down, and I agreed to take him back. I truly believed him then. That Elio truly loved me. Until one night. He took me to an underground racetrack to broker a deal with an ally. But in the roaring crowd, I saw a girl, trembling and crying, her clothes in tatters. Ava was shoved to the starting line. She was the wager for the death race. One look was all it took for Elio's face to darken. The next second, he dropped his hand from my waist and, without a word, walked toward the track entrance. I stood frozen, watching his back as he disappeared into the driver's seat of a modified sports car. I used to wake up crying, terrified he would lose his life in one of these reckless races. He had smashed his trophies, burned his marker for the illegal track, and sworn to God he would never again enter such a life-or-death gamble. My hand drifted to my stomach, covering the secret I hadn't yet had the chance to share. His blood oath was broken. And so was I.

The Clan Healer told me that without the vial of Progenitor's Blood, the Blood Blight afflicting me meant I had only seventy-two hours to live. But my husband, Miles, the new Duke of our world, gave the only vial of the precious cure to my adopted sister, Vivienne, the woman I had turned three years ago. "She's in agony from the rejection, Isolde. It's a pain you can't possibly understand." His tone was self-righteous, devoid of any concern for the patch of skin on my collarbone already turning to stone. I nodded, watching as the life-saving, dark red liquid slid down another woman's throat. I accomplished a great deal in the time I had left. As I signed the documents, the lawyer's hand trembled. "Are you certain you want to transfer everything, Your Grace? The territorial rights of a thousand-year-old clan..." I didn't hesitate. "Yes. To Vivienne." My adopted daughter, Lily, the girl I had risked everything to save, who was now forever frozen at the age of eight, cowered in Vivienne's arms, pointing at me and screaming, "Aunt Vivienne is my real mommy! You're the witch who turned us into monsters!" I offered no defense. "Yes, that's right. Be a good girl and listen to your new mother now." The Progenitor's Ring, the symbol of the clan's supreme authority, now rested on Vivienne's hand. "Oh, sister, you're too kind," she sobbed, her sobs a practiced performance. "I'll be sure to protect the family in your stead." I nodded. "You'll run things better than I ever did." I even signed away my control over the Elder Council, a council sustained by my own blood. For the first time in a century, a shadow of complex emotion crossed Miles's face. He stared at me,"Isolde, stop fighting. It's better this way. You need to rest." Yes. On my deathbed, I had finally become the perfect, submissive Isolde they always wanted. An Isolde who was about to turn to dust. The seventy-two-hour countdown had begun. I wondered, when I finally turned to ash,