Suffer In Silence

My boyfriend's childhood sweetheart, Janine Swettenham, returned to the pack, alone and heavily pregnant. To protect her reputation, Aiden Monroe decided to mark her. I asked him in disbelief, "What about me? What about our baby?" He just shrugged and said, "Janine’s not like you. I’m the only family she has left. She can’t handle the gossip. Just wait for me. Once she has the baby, I’ll mark you." However, Aiden forgot that I don’t have any family either. While the entire pack mocked and slandered me for being pregnant out of wedlock, Aiden was by Janine’s side, holding her hand through every hospital visit. That’s when I finally understood that some favoritism didn’t need a reason. I left in fury. Then, the accident happened. I lost the baby. Broken and numb, I chose to walk away from it all. I left both him and the pack, vanishing from his world completely. Five years later, I returned, accompanying my mate on a business trip to the Silverglade Pack. Craving the taste of old memories, I went to the pack restaurant alone. I never expected to run into Aiden again. He looked at me with that same cold gaze and said, "You’ve caused enough trouble, haven’t you? The kid must be four by now. Bring him back. He can grow up alongside Janine’s child."

Born to meet. Fated to love. "Listen to the silence. And you shall find the answer to your heart." When Clover Hon sensed somebody turning on the black van she was hiding beside, she immediately slid in sneakily without giving it much a thought. The only thing she knew was that she gotta escape. She was never going to continue being a sex slave. Never! But whose van was it? Did she really escape from trouble?

In the tenth year of my diagnosis with selective mutism, my mother decided it was time to bring home a little brother for me from an orphanage. Her eyes immediately landed on a boy in the back row, but the head of the orphanage opposed without hesitation. "Ms. Lane, this kid has been nothing but trouble since he was small. Just two days ago, he made an old man on crutches play goalie. If you take him home, your life will never be peaceful!" I looked on without the slightest interest. My mother, however, was exhilarated. Pointing at the boy, she declared excitedly, "Then, he's exactly the one I want!" And suddenly, lines of bullet comments scrolled before me. 'The mom cracks me up. Her eyes practically sparkled like spotlights.' 'Our brooding female lead grew up friendless. Her mom's been worrying about that for years. Now she's found this rascal, there's no way she's letting go.' 'Honestly, fate is wild. The mom instantly picks her future son-in-law. In their past lives, the female lead died trying to save him. Now that they've both been reborn, maybe they'll finally get a second chance together.'

It had been seven years since I broke the mate bond with Dark Wood Pack's Alpha, Shane Lewis. I ran a floral boutique in the Neutral Zone. On an ordinary day, a little girl stood at the door and was staring at me in a daze. She looked about six or seven years old. She was very pretty. Something about the curve of her eyes and brows felt strangely familiar, especially those amber eyes. Our gazes met. In an instant, memories flooded my mind like a movie reel. They were memories that had once caused me unbearable pain. I quickly called out to her. "Hey there, kid. Do you want to try this candy? "It's made from primrose. It's very sweet." She accepted the candy and listened as I talked casually. I told her that I used to be the Luna of Silver Moon Pack. I once had a primrose estate. Unfortunately, someone took it from me. I told her I once had a daughter too. She should be about the same age as the girl now. The girl looked curious. "Do you hate the bad people who took your things?" she asked. I looked at her for a long time and smiled. "Not anymore," I said.

In a world slowly being erased, the quiet is the killer. Ethan Ashworth’s life ended the day the Silence touched him, leaving a smooth, numb patch on his skin and a ghost where his memories used to be. He is one of the Marked—doomed to be hollowed out, unless the hunters of Die Jägerfind him first. His only hope is the Library, a secret sanctuary for those the Silence hasn’t yet consumed. There, he meets Lorenzo Cavalli, a former soldier marked not by emptiness, but by a rage that refuses to be silenced. Their connection is immediate, volatile, and unwanted—a psychic bond forged in shared terror that screams against the quiet. It’s also the one thing the all-consuming Silence cannot stomach. Their bond isn't just a link; it’s a weapon. A wrong note in a world demanding perfect silence. On the run from relentless hunters and a creeping nothingness that eats sound, memory, and soul, Ethan and Lorenzo discover a terrible truth: the Silence isn't random. It's a hunger. And it’s gathering, preparing to swallow the world whole. Their only chance is to turn their unwanted connection into a blade, and walk into the heart of the consuming quiet. To kill a god of silence, you don’t fight with a shout. You fight with a scream that is also a love song.

Tahimik. Mahiwaga. Perpekto sa paningin ng lahat. Si Celestine “Celle” Alvarado ay lumaki sa mundo ng kapangyarihan at kontrol. Pero isang gabi ang tuluyang gumulo sa kanyang buhay — isang gabi ng takot, pagtakas, at isang aksidenteng hindi niya kailanman malilimutan. Pagkalipas ng ilang taon, sa isang wild na party sa BGC, nakilala niya si Lorenzo “Renzo” Navarro — isang successful at guwapong businessman na may hawak ding mabigat na nakaraan. May galit siya sa dibdib, at isang misyon: hanapin ang taong muntik nang pumatay sa kanyang kapatid. Hindi nila alam, sa pagitan ng mapusok na halik at mainit na gabi, nakatali na pala ang mga puso nila sa isang trahedyang pinagtagpo sila noon pa man. Sa pagitan ng kasalanan at pagnanasa… Sa pagitan ng katotohanan at pag-ibig… Pipiliin ba nilang lumaban o tuluyang lamunin ng mga alon sa katahimikan?

The first thing he takes from me is air. A hand crashes over my mouth, ripping me backward into a darkness so sudden my mind stutters. My scream dies against his palm. My feet leave the ground. My heartbeat slams against my ribs like it’s trying to escape. “Stop fighting,” he says, his voice a low, controlled threat against my ear. Not shouted. Not rushed. Certain. I claw at his arm anyway. It doesn’t matter. “This is day one,” he whispers. He forces me onto my knees, my breath splintering in sharp, humiliating bursts. His fingers hook under my jaw, lifting my face so I have to see him.. cold eyes, steady rage, a man carved from hatred with a purpose. “You were born into the wrong blood,” he says. “And now you’ll pay for every sin it spilled.” His thumb drags across my trembling lips, testing, measuring. A reminder he owns every choice I have left. “You’ll beg,” he promises. “Not for mercy. For the end.” And something inside me sinks, cold and final. From this moment on, nothing is mine. Not breath. Not choice. Not time. ⸻ Luna Vitiello is the silent daughter of a devil. To the world, a pampered princess. In truth, a girl who has bled in silence for nineteen years. But the man who takes her doesn’t care. To him, she isn’t a victim; she’s the enemy. A living vessel for her father’s sins, a debt meant to be paid in pain. He thinks he’s breaking a spoiled queen. He doesn’t realize he’s crushing a girl who was already broken.

Août 2018, sans s’annoncer, Éric s’arrête au Conssé, l’affaire de quelques minutes... Le Conssé ? Cela fait quinze ans, qu’il n’y a pas mis les pieds ! La vieille maison appartient à Clémentine de Boisin. À quatre-vingt-dix-huit ans, bon-pied, bon-œil, « Tante Clém » est l’âme de la demeure. L’été, elle y accueille sa famille. Le reste de l’année, elle y vit retirée au milieu des souvenirs. Une photo datée de 1942, retrouvée par accident, s’invite. Que vient faire ici, le mystérieux sourire figé sur pellicule, issu d’une époque troublée ? Face à Éric, la porte du grenier s’entrouvre... Emmanuel de Scorraille , diplômé de l’enseignement supérieur, est un romancier passionné d’histoire, de culture et de littérature. Le silence de la terre est une fiction historique, inspirée de l’actualité. « Que s’est-il passé le 27 novembre 2018 ? »

In the midst of the darkness of my soul, I have found Chiara Bianchi, a withered flower. I am Wolfgang Krüger, a cruel and heartless man. Seeking revenge, I kidnap Chiara, determined to make her suffer as her uncle has made my family suffer. But Chiara is much more than a defenseless victim. I discover that her beauty hides a deep pain, and her silence tells me stories I could never imagine. Chiara is mute, trapped in a world where words cannot escape her lips. The torture I had planned for her turns into a dangerous game, an internal struggle that I cannot control. Every day, I find myself watering her withered garden, wishing to bring life back to her face and challenging my own cruel instincts.

Ma demi-sœur m’a accusée à tort d’être responsable de ses allergies, et, dans un accès de rage, mes trois frères m’ont enfermée dans une cave exiguë, sans lumière ni air. Ils ont même enchaîné la porte. J’ai frappé la porte de la cave, suppliant de toutes mes forces qu’on me laisse sortir. Alors que le frère aîné, un homme d’affaires d’élite, s’apprêtait à partir, une froide colère se lisait sur son visage : « Tu as l’habitude de maltraiter Zoé dans de petites histoires, mais je n’ai pas l’intention de t’embêter pour ça. Cette fois, tu savais que Zoé était allergique aux fruits de mer, et malgré cela, tu l’as laissée en manger. N’est-ce pas là une malveillance délibérée ? Tu ferais bien de réfléchir à ce que tu as fait ! » Le deuxième frère, récemment couronné Roi des Chants, et le troisième, un peintre talentueux, ont grogné : « Une personne aussi perfide que toi, qui trouve toujours des excuses, tu vas rester là-dedans, et que cela te serve de leçon ! » Après avoir dit ces mots, ils ont pris ma demi-sœur, tremblante, dans leurs bras et se sont précipités à l’hôpital. Peu à peu, l’air dans la cave se raréfiait. Chaque respiration devenait un combat. La suffocation m’a envahie, et bientôt, tout ce que j’avais ressenti s’est transformé en un calme absolu. Je suis morte, seule, dans cet espace clos. Trois jours plus tard, lorsqu’ils sont revenus de l’hôpital avec ma demi-sœur, ils se sont souvenus enfin de moi. Mais ils ont ignoré que, dans l’obscurité de cette cave étouffante, j’avais déjà succombé au manque d’oxygène.