روايات وقصص ضمن Strong Language

"You're a strong woman, Momma. You know what it means to be strong, especially in a man's world. No weakness. No doubt. Nothing but confidence and strength at all times." Momma sighed. "Nikanya, to be strong in a man's world does not mean that you are not also female. It means you must be more ruthless than they. Women excel at this. Be sneakier. Be cagier. Be better. But do not shut yourself away. That way leads to loneliness and bitterness. A perpetually broken heart that withers and dies."

I whispered. His eyes narrowed. “That’s bullshit. They’re one and the same.” “No. No, they aren’t.” I swallowed hard, holding that bond so gently, but so desperately. “Because power… power is about other people. Who you can order around. Who you can influence. But strength… strength is who you are. Cazz… You don’t lose it no matter how powerless you might be in the eyes of others. And you’re the strongest person I’ve ever met.”

I have to be strong. With one last roar, I charged again. As our bodies collided, I felt the sheer force of his strength pressing down on me. Every nerve in my body screamed in protest, the pain from my shoulder and side merging into a haze of agony. But I couldn’t give in. I wouldn’t. In a final, desperate move, I brought all my remaining strength into one last attack. I aimed for his throat, my teeth bared, fueled by the love for my family. This was it. Either I would win, or I would lose everything.

Not only did he not want to appear weak in front of his enemy, Hugh Fleshy also maintained his pride as a man who would never back down before he was completely unable to. "Crown Prince, don't think I underestimate you, that's just wrong," Bill said casually. Hugh raised his eyebrows, "Then what is your purpose?" "I don't like fighting weaklings. It won't be fun," Bill said so calmly. "What do you mean?" Hugh's eyes rounded again. "Beating a weakling doesn't make me anything. I'd rather fight someone strong," Bill replied. Andrew Reece, who was listening to the short conversation, just shook his head.

My voice cracked as I spoke. They advanced with silver eyes and sharp claws, watching me like I was prey. Just before they could get any closer, something shifted. The atmosphere changed. Tension surged through the air like invisible lightning. A hot gust of wind burst from the far end of the parking garage, slamming into the strange men and forcing them back a step by sheer force. Then came heavy, deliberate footsteps. Tap. Tap. Tap. “I warned you... stay away from her.” His voice rumbled like thunder held back by storm clouds. Cold. Flat. But powerful enough to press down on my chest and make my knees want to buckle.

She guessed J was facing an important turning point in life. She responded: [Those who stand on the peak must also face the valleys. 'Admiring the strong' means valuing the person for their strength. If one abandons someone merely because they are no longer strong and turns to another strong person, that's not admiration—it's opportunism and fickleness.] This time, J took a long time to reply. [Perhaps what one admires isn't the strong person themselves, but only the word 'strong'?] Sharon replied: [Strength is only one part of a person. If you admire someone simply because they are strong… would you love a merciless murderer, morally corrupt yet powerful, just because they're 'strong'?

It was everything we had gone through — the betrayals, the humiliation, the years of being pushed to the side — transformed into something larger than life, something with unstoppable force. “Strength isn’t enough,” I cried, my voice cleaving cleanly through the chaos like an edge of a blade. The clanging of swords came to a halt. Boots stilled. Everyone’s eyes were now on me, waiting. Watching. “Do you believe brute force will win this war? Is that anger alone going to sustain you?” My words weren’t soft. They weren’t meant to be. They were made of steel, designed to slice deep. "No. That’s what the weak think. That’s how they fight. And that’s how they die."

"That’s why you’ll never possess true strength, Luna." He moved closer, his presence suffocating. "Rule number two for being strong: When you desire something, you take it—at any cost. If you want to meet your father, you go meet him, regardless of the consequences. That’s how you obtain what you want. That’s how strength is achieved." I shook my head. "That isn’t strength, Steven. That’s a lack of compassion." He shrugged, apathetic. "To me, it’s the same."

I took a couple of steps back and looked at the strong man, who radiated power from every corner. "What the hell is going on here?"

Power radiates from them like a force of nature, making the room feel smaller just from their presence. And then— Three sets of widened eyes lock onto mine. Something shifts in the air, something clicks into place. The word leaves all of our mouths at the same time. "Mate." "Wait, what the hell?" Nova mutters beside me. I barely hear her. I can’t move my eyes away from the three men standing in front of me, from the sheer presence they command. One of them, the one who smells like honey and sunshine, tilts his head slightly, a slow, intrigued smile curling his lips. “Well… this changes everything.”