Novel & Cerita So Spoke Zarathustra Pdf

Ever since her 18th birthday, Mona Lisa hasn’t been the same. What began as innocent curiosity with her college friends—experimenting with vibrators and watching forbidden taboo videos—had awakened something feral inside her. Scenes of powerful alphas claiming their own bloodline only fueled the fire. Now she craved c*ck with a hunger no toy could satisfy. Her wolf was awake, and it was shameless. Every time her strict, commanding Alpha stepfather spoke, her body betrayed her completely. The deep rumble of his voice sent slick heat flooding between her thighs. Her nipples hardened instantly. Her breath hitched, and instead of answering like a proper daughter of the pack, soft, needy whimpers escaped her lips. Her wolf whined inside her chest, tail tucked, begging to submit. She was consumed by one dark fantasy: becoming his secret, messy little breeding doll. She imagined him pinning her down and filling her womb with thick, potent Alpha seed while he growled “Mine” against her neck, marking her permanently. He was her stepfather. The Alpha of their pack. Her mother’s mate. Yet the fated bond thrummed between them, growing stronger with every full moon. Her scent had changed; the entire pack could smell her desperate, fertile need whenever he was near. Mona Lisa knew she faced an impossible choice: surrender to the overwhelming pleasure and let her Alpha stepfather ruin her—body, soul, and wolf—or fight the bond and slowly go mad. Either path would shatter the pack and burn her family. But when his golden eyes locked on hers, her pussy clenched and dripped with raw need. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could stop herself from dropping to her knees, baring her neck, and begging her stepdaddy to knot and breed her like the filthy little omega she truly was.

My Alpha series book 3 (Standalone) "You tried to fucking kill your own mate! What the hell's wrong with you?" he growled harshly, but I refused to cower as I spoke coldly, masking my fear of him and refusing to let him know how terrified of him I really am. "You killed my brother, brother trumps mate" "Your brother had it coming" he snarled. "That's what you want to believe? Fine. I guess that means I have it coming now too. Go ahead, tear out my heart, it's already dead anyway" I said genuinely, meaning every word because death's rather merciful compared to what he's capable of doing to me as punishment for trying to kill him. There're things a lot worse and scarier than death, believe me I'd know because I've already lived them and I do not wish on experiencing them again especially by him, my mate. My heart's dead but he's the only one capable of bringing it back to life only to obliterate it into pieces. "Oh no, I spent a fortune buying you even though you're not worth a dime. You owe me a lot of money, mate. I'm going to make that dead, cold heart of yours mine and I'm going to enjoy the hell out of shattering it while you're still alive" he promised darkly as his hand tightened around my neck. I couldn't say anything back, I saw the hellfire he plans to burn me in through his eyes and there was nothing I could do or say to save myself from it, from him. "You're my slave now, you do everything I ask you to do without objections or face the consequences of disobeying. Start praying slave, you're going to need it especially if you don't tame that smart mouth of yours"

Joanna Cross's fiance, who had supposedly died seven years ago, suddenly came back. When I went to find her, the two of them were discussing their wedding. Adrian Shaw pointed at me, standing at the very back of the crowd, and asked, "Jo, who is he?" Joanna answered without hesitation. "Our wedding officiant." I clutched my chest, faintly feeling my heart condition beginning to flare. Before I could question her, the bodyguards escorted me out of the living room. Inside, laughter filled the room. Outside, my hands and feet went cold, and the pain nearly tore me apart. Two hours later, Joanna came out with a smile still on her face. When she saw the state I was in, she panicked and immediately wrapped me tightly in her coat. But the words she spoke were colder than ice. "Adrian has forgotten everything except that I was his fiancee. "The doctors said any stimulation could make him try to kill himself. The wedding is fake. It is only to make him happy. The person I love has always been you." I could not hold on anymore and collapsed. Joanna hurriedly helped me into the car, her voice shaking. "Mason, don't be scared. The matching heart was prepared long ago. I won't let anything happen to you. "I will take you to the best hospital right now." But just as she helped me into the passenger seat, she ran into Adrian, whose eyes were full of tears. "Jo, are you abandoning me?" In a single second, Joanna made her choice. She peeled my fingers away from her one by one, then shut the car door. After that, Joanna never appeared again. Instead, she sent me a message. [Your surgery was successful. That's wonderful!] [Adrian cannot handle any stimulation. Can you disappear for three months? After that, we will spend the rest of our lives together.] Her promises were so vivid. But Joanna did not know the surgery had never succeeded. Three months was too long. I could not make it that far.

Dante and I have been married for three years. But he never knew my real name. We’d had countless arguments over the past three years—over the petty details of everyday life. I can no longer tolerate such a ridiculous life like a puppet today. Calliope, that’s what he called me, but it was actually my twin sister’s name. My husband may never know that the woman who married him three years ago was a substitute bride. Three years ago, my sister abandoned us and left before the wedding with her lover. To prevent the anger of the Laurent’s, my family had no choice but to let me marry Dante instead of my sister. My phone rang again and again, I finally picked it up. "Throwing another tantrum, are you? Calliope, tell me what you are capable to do if you can not even be merely a housewife?" I knew Calliope could always get her way through her sweet voice and innocent smiles. She can be an obedient and perfect wife—something I could never manage. "Dante. I’m not joking.” I didn't know if my voice sounded a little sad. "You can’t be serious—" For the first time, I heard a tremor in the man's words. He doesn't love me. He likes to be in control. When he realized that his puppet was losing control, he began to panic. It's time for this farce to end. I clenched my phone and spoke to the man on the other end in the calmest voice of my life. "Dante, let's get a divorce." But what shocked me more than hearing Dante's answer was the person who suddenly appeared in front of me. Calliope, my twin sister, who disappeared for the whole three years. “Are you crazy? Why on earth would you want a divorce? That's Dante Laurent, a billionaire heir, every woman's dream！” “Calliope? Our parents and I all thought you would never show up again. I entered this wrong marriage because of your escape. Dante... he’s not that a husband out of your dreams.” “Seraphina, put away your ridiculous niceness and compassion. I have returned this time to take back what is MINE and my place.” She lifted my hand with a sneer and removed the wedding ring from my finger.

On the night of my eighteenth birthday, the Lycan King came to me in a dream. He proclaimed me his fated mate and vowed to make me his queen when I turned twenty-two. Terrified, my father tried to help me escape this fate. Before he died, he entrusted me to his closest allies, a family with three powerful, wealthy sons who became my adoptive brothers. They once fought for my attention, each vying to be the one who would marry me. But that all stopped when they brought home Daisy, an orphan girl they found on the streets. They never spoke of marrying me again. Before I knew it, my twenty-second birthday arrived. A blood moon hung in the sky, and I trembled with fear, crying as I begged my eldest brother, Liam, to marry me. He had once had a million-dollar couture wedding gown designed just for me, swearing he would protect me for the rest of his life. But just before the wedding, he heard Daisy had a migraine. He abandoned me without a second thought, rushing her to a private doctor. Tears blurring my vision, I dragged the long train of my gown to find my second brother, Noah. The hot-headed brother who used to fight anyone who upset me now did not even spare me a glance. "Don't bother me," he snapped impatiently. "I'm busy preparing Daisy's medication." As the night deepened, my panic grew, and I ran to find my third brother, Caleb. He was holding Daisy, soothing her gently. "Evie, sweetie, stop playing the victim," he said with a gentle smile that didn't reach his eyes. "There was no Lycan King in your dream." "Your father was just afraid you were so spoiled that no one would ever want you, so he made up that ridiculous lie." "Once Daisy has fully recovered, we'll draw straws or something to decide which of us will marry you." My fingertips went cold as tears streamed down my face. So this is how they saw it. Marrying me was a burden. I stopped pleading. I turned, walked back to my room, and quietly waited for the Lycan King to claim me.

The day my brother, Chester Rodney, came to the orphanage to take me home, my boyfriend Dominic Huxley looked at me coldly and said, "If you choose to acknowledge your birth family, we're over." I knew he had his pride—he could never accept the difference in our social standing. So, for him, I turned my back on the family I had yearned for my whole life. In the decades that followed, I toiled without complaint, saving every cent to help him rise to success. By the time I was not yet fifty, overwork had worn me down. Lying on my deathbed, my breathing shallow and weak, I watched Dominic on television. He was now an acclaimed scientist, just awarded the nation's highest research honor. Tears welled in his eyes as he thanked another woman. "All these years," he said, "I never felt worthy of Alicia. But now, maybe I can use this award as the prologue to a love I've owed her for decades." The "Alicia" he spoke of was the woman mistakenly switched with me at birth—the false heiress the Rodney family raised as their own. The camera zoomed out. Alicia Rodney stood radiant, graceful, and perfectly preserved by years of luxury, blushing as she accepted the trophy. "I waited for you for decades," she said sweetly, "but marriage is still something I'll need to ask my brother about." Chester, who had long taken over the family, looked at her with an indulgent tenderness tinged with something unspoken. "I was adopted by our uncle back then for one reason—to protect Alicia. Making the only princess of the Rodney family happy has always been my life's mission." Only then did I realize—everything I thought I had chosen freely, every sacrifice I made without regret, was nothing but a trap, carefully woven by two men, all for Alicia. The betrayal pierced my heart. I died without peace. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day Chester came to take me home from the orphanage. I glanced past the two men eyeing me with subtle disdain. Without hesitation, I stepped into the car. "Take me home," I said. This time, I'd send whoever stole my life back to the gutter they slithered from.

I had a mild hearing impairment, which left me mostly deaf in my right ear. Growing up, Tristan Lockhart always made it a point to stand on my right side. "That way, if anyone tries to talk behind your back, I'll be the first to hear it," he used to tell me. Eventually, we got engaged, and the wedding invitations were already printed and ready to go. Everyone around us kept saying how incredibly blessed I was to have a childhood sweetheart who had spent over a decade shielding me from the world. That was until Sunny Pierce joined Tristan’s company. She was stunning, vibrant, and always spoke with a radiant smile plastered across her face. The very first time she met me, she stared intently at my hearing aid for a long moment before turning to Tristan with a playful laugh. "With her like that, can she even hear you whisper sweet nothings in her ear at night?" My face drained of all color, but Tristan merely furrowed his brow slightly. "Sunny just speaks before she thinks. Don't take it to heart." On the day of our wedding rehearsal. I stood right outside the heavy chapel doors, listening to Sunny mockingly read my vows aloud. "Thank you for tolerating me as your constant complication for over a decade. I promise to be your comfort, your constant shadow, and your favorite complication for the rest of my life." The entire room erupted into a chorus of laughter, and Tristan let out a soft chuckle along with them. "Stop messing around," he said, his voice carrying a light laugh. "If she overhears you changing the words, she's going to get upset again." Sunny paused, her tone turning playful. "Are you seriously still going to marry her, then?" Tristan fell completely silent for two long seconds. "The invitations have already been sent out," he finally replied, his voice flat. "What else am I supposed to do at this point?" I stood frozen at the very end of the corridor. The umbrella he had once gifted me was still dripping rainwater onto the tile floor. But suddenly, I had absolutely no desire to walk through those doors.

My father and brother had preferred my sister over me since we were kids. In fact, they hated me. When I was bullied at a party, it was a mafia boss, Edwin Carlson, who stepped in. He saved me and announced right there in front of everyone that I was the woman he loved. He warned that anyone who dared mess with me again would have to deal with him. Edwin bought a castle deep in the forest just for me. He filled the garden with my favorite tulips and held a grand wedding there that made headlines across the country. For a while, I became the woman everyone envied. Seven months pregnant, I attended my father's birthday party. But that night, a sudden fire broke out. My biased father and brother only cared about saving my sister, Kelsey Grant. They rushed her out while I was left behind to die in the flames. In the end, it was Edwin who carried me out. But when I woke up in the hospital, I saw something that shattered my heart. "What the hell were you thinking, starting that fire?" Edwin's face was dark with rage. "Stephanie's only seven months pregnant! Are you trying to force her into early labor? Were you trying to kill her and the baby?" My father and brother spoke in hushed voices, trying to explain. "Kelsey has leukemia. The doctors said we can't wait anymore—she needs surgery soon. And she needs the baby's bone marrow..." "I care about Kelsey's life more than you do. Why else would I have married Stephanie? But you can't hurt her. I have my own plan!" Edwin warned coldly. "Saving Kelsey is the goal, yes—but if you try to save her at the cost of Stephanie's life, I won't allow it!" After hearing that, I fled the hospital room in a panic. So that was why he married me. Not because he loved me, but to save Kelsey. Everything he did for me—his kindness, his care—was all for her. Just like my father and brother, he loved Kelsey. Not me. If no one loved me, then I figured I might as well just disappear.

I have always had an almost pathological sense of paranoia. Ever since I was a child, I was convinced that the people around me were out to get me. Back in elementary school, when everyone was lining up for their student ID photos, I flatly refused to have mine taken. I insisted that the district office was going to use my picture for identity theft. The situation escalated so badly that the principal had to personally sit me down and spend half an hour trying to convince me otherwise. Then, there was the fingerprint registration system in middle school. The school required every student to submit their fingerprints to access the campus buildings. I was so terrified that someone would steal my biometric data that I literally rubbed the skin off all ten fingertips to make them unreadable. Even when my fingers were bleeding, I kept shouting that they were trying to steal my identity. I would rather climb over the school fence every day than cooperate. Every relative I had called me crazy. My parents were so fed up that they seriously considered having me admitted to a psychiatric hospital. I did not care. I guarded my privacy with obsessive determination, gritting my teeth and holding my ground all the way up to the eve of the final exams. Then came the day before the exam. That afternoon, our homeroom teacher, Tracy Collins, walked into the classroom carrying a metal lockbox. A warm, motherly smile spread across her face as she set it down on the desk. "Everyone," she said, "to make sure nobody forgets their documents tomorrow, I'd like you to hand over your IDs and exam admission slips for safekeeping tonight." She patted the lockbox reassuringly. "Tomorrow morning, I'll personally return them to each of you outside the testing center. This way, there's absolutely nothing that can go wrong." The class was deeply moved by her thoughtfulness. Some students even looked close to tears as they eagerly pulled out their documents and lined up to hand them over. Everyone except me. My hand clamped down over my pocket so tightly that my knuckles turned white. Cold sweat poured down my back. A sharp alarm bell was ringing in my head. Trying not to attract attention, I fished out a spare flip phone from my bag, ducked beneath my desk, and dialed emergency services. As soon as the call connected, I lowered my voice and spoke into the receiver. "Hello. I'd like to report a crime. My name is Charles. "I believe a teacher at St. Alden High is working with an identity-fraud ring and is planning a large-scale operation tonight involving examination fraud and identity theft."