Tanjiro Eyes Bleeding

I sponsored Emily Fagan from an underprivileged background just to help her get through school. She was good-looking but wasn't exactly the brightest. Despite my warning not to tamper with my things, she slipped stimulants into my water bottle. Thanks to her, I was accused of cheating in the swimming competition. Our team's score was nullified. As for me, I was banned from competing for life and kicked out of college. When I confronted her, she cried pitifully, "Julie, I just wanted you to win. I didn't know that'd happen." My boyfriend, Elijah Strauss, held her and comforted her. He even snapped at me, claiming, "Em had good intentions. Why are you giving her a hard time?" Crushed, I shut myself in at home. Feeling sorry, she and Elijah visited me and brought along some vodka as an apology. After I took ten shots, I asked her to buy some over-the-counter pain relievers for my splitting headache. Little did I know that she'd make me take a dangerous dose of Ibuprofen mixed with alcohol. The bleeding in my stomach was what killed me. Emily looked pitifully remorseful at the hospital. "I'm so sorry. I couldn't even tell what I shouldn't have given her…" During the police interrogation, my boyfriend gave false testimony to protect her. He accused me of taking my own life by mixing Ibuprofen and alcohol because I couldn't handle the mental stress from cheating in the competition. When I reopened my eyes, I found out that I was transported to the day before the competition.

Perfection was the curse. I was born into wealth, beauty, influence, and a family empire that stretched across continents. People envied my life, not knowing it was nothing more than a gilded prison. The only thing that ever felt real was ballet, the passion my parents forbade because it brought them no power, no profit, no leverage. My parents; greedy, ambitious, unfillable, hid their cruelty beneath luxury. And on my eighteenth birthday, they revealed the ultimate betrayal. I was engaged to a powerful man twice. . . no, three times my age. A man feared across Europe. A man whose hands were stained with secrets the world pretended not to see. They sold me to strengthen an alliance. So I ran. Barefoot, shaking, heartbroken. I stole one of our visitor's chopper and fled to Sicily, thinking distance could save me. I thought I escaped the monsters who owned my life. But I only ran into a darker one. Because Sicily is his territory; Aldrick Moretti, the shadow king of the Italian underworld. Cold. Untouchable. Beautiful in the most devastating way. The man people whisper about as if speaking his name is a sin. A man with eyes that see through lies. . . including mine. And the moment he found me trespassing on his land, bleeding, terrified, and wearing the remnants of a runaway bride. . . He didn’t return me. He didn’t free me. He claimed me. Not as a business deal. Not as an alliance. But as something far more dangerous. He became my captor, my protector, my obsession, and the forbidden flame I should never have touched. Because in his world, love is not tender. It’s a weapon. And I am the sacrifice wrapped in a veil he refuses to let go.

On the night of her 18th birthday, under a blood-red moon, Elara Voss feels the mate bond snap into place—straight to Damon Blackthorn, the golden Alpha of Silver Moon Pack. The entire pack watches in breathless silence… until Damon turns cold eyes on her, his chosen Luna—Valentina Reyes, Elara’s cruelest bully—smirking at his side. “I, Damon Blackthorn, reject you, Elara Voss, as my mate and future Luna. You are weak. Unworthy. Forgotten.” The words shatter her. Val’s laughter echoes. Humiliated, heartbroken, and bleeding from the fresh rejection mark on her neck, Elara flees into the forbidden wilds… straight into the jaws of the most dangerous wolf alive. Lucian Draven. Scarred. Cursed. Ruthless Alpha of Nightshade Pack. His wolf has torn through enemies and lovers alike, leaving only fear in its wake—until he scents her. The bond ignites like wildfire. His massive hand clamps around her wrist, voice a low, dangerous growl: “You ran from one Alpha… but you just ran straight into mine.” Elara wants nothing to do with another bond that could break her. Lucian wants her—body, soul, and every defiant inch of her—more than he’s ever wanted anything. But when Damon realizes the “weak” girl he discarded is now claimed by his greatest enemy… regret burns hotter than any mate bond. He’ll beg. He’ll fight. He’ll bleed. Too late. Some bonds are rejected. Some are reclaimed. And some… are forged in fire and fangs.

Jayden Lazaro’s life changed when a guy named Johnson Dawson, who was running for his life, accidentally entered his house while bleeding to death that night. Johnson’s evil stepbrother wanted to kill him and their Grandfather who was in the far province of Belio Ricio. Out of kindness, Jayden let Johnson stay in his house for a couple of days. But Jayden knew that his life was in danger too when he decided to let Johnson stay and when the bad guys who were after Johnson saw his face. The moment he knew that he doesn’t have a choice, he made the biggest decision in his life to go with Johnson on his journey to save his Grandfather in Belio Ricio, for his safety and in the name of love.

He asked for her body. Her loyalty. Her womb. And in return, he gave her a betrayal so cruel it broke something sacred. Nadia was never Greg’s love, just a placeholder for the woman he truly wanted. Used, discarded, and left bleeding in the woods like a broken toy. But fate wasn’t done with her yet. Varic, the cold-blooded Alpha with a vendetta of his own, finds her at her lowest and offers her everything: power, protection and revenge. In exchange, she becomes his Queen. What started as a fake alliance turns into something savage. Something possessive. Because Nadia isn’t just a forgotten omega anymore. She’s the spark of a bloodline long buried. She’s the mate he never wanted.

I was in a car accident while saving my brothers. However, instead of gratitude, they urged the doctors to amputate my legs. "Carol, we're sorry," they said through tears. "We're useless… but don't worry. Even if we have to sell our blood or our kidneys, we'll make sure you're taken care of." Right after surgery, they abandoned me in a shabby apartment. Blood seeped through the sheets as they looked at me with teary eyes—then left in a hurry, claiming they needed to earn money for my treatment. I did not want to drag them down anymore. Enduring the pain, I crawled to the rooftop of a tall building, planning to end my life. That's when I saw it—inside a luxury hotel, a grand celebration was taking place. My brothers were there doting on another girl. She was eating an extravagant cake I had never even dreamed of, wearing a designer princess gown worth a fortune, sparkling with jewels. Everyone called her the Smith family's one and only princess. They had even hired a world-class symphony orchestra to play Happy Birthday just for her. While I lay bleeding in a dingy apartment, they would not spend a few dollars on bandages for me. I watched as my eldest brother gently fed her cake, his eyes full of tenderness. "Jasmine, only you deserve to be our one and only little sister." The second brother placed a tiara on her head with care. "Even for the smallest birthday, we won't let you suffer a single moment of disappointment." The third knelt to help her into a pair of crystal shoes. "Jasmine, you're our most precious darling." Then, standing on the stage, Jasmine held up the black credit card they had gifted her and smiled sweetly. "Brothers," she said, "Carol lost her legs saving you. Maybe you should go see how she's doing?" My eldest brother let out a mocking laugh. "She's not worth it. Now that she's crippled, she'll never be able to compete with you again. She got what she deserved."

They tried to erase her. She survived. Raised in a place designed to break children, she grows up learning one rule above all else: endure quietly. Hunger is discipline. Pain is routine. Obedience is survival. She doesn’t know her real name, her family, or why certain men with clean shoes and cold eyes always seem to be watching. Until the night she runs. Bleeding, hunted, and half-dead, she escapes an institution that was never meant to let her live past usefulness. What she doesn’t know is that the symbol burned into her skin isn’t a punishment it’s a claim. A mark left by a powerful underground network that doesn’t lose what it owns. Her collapse brings her into the path of three brothers who rule the city’s shadows men whose wealth buys silence, whose violence is surgical, and whose loyalty to blood is absolute. At first, she’s just another wounded stranger pulled from the streets. Then one brother recognizes the mark. And everything changes. Because years ago, the brothers tried to dismantle a trafficking empire known only as The Circle. They thought it was gone. They were wrong. The girl they saved isn’t a random survivor she’s a missing investment. A living mistake The Circle intends to reclaim. As fragments of her past surface, a terrifying truth emerges: she wasn’t abandoned as a child. She was stolen. Trained. Conditioned. And when she escaped, she didn’t just save herself she reignited a war. Hunted by a network that erases people without a trace, and protected by men who don’t lose once they claim something as theirs, she must decide whether she’ll keep running… or turn and burn everything that tried to own her.

When my son was found after we lost him three years ago, he forgot all about me and hid behind another omega woman, calling her Mommy instead. To keep my son close, I let the omega stay in my pack, never expecting I’d caught her in my bed with my Alpha husband. Betrayed by my mate. Rejected by my son. Humiliated before my pack. I lost everything in a single day. When danger came, I still chose to save my son, but he chose to leave me in the woods, bleeding, abandoned and dying. I believed it was the end for me until a stranger lifted me into his arms and whispered: Fated mate.

The lab blew, and my girlfriend—Beatrice Whitmore—didn't even glance my way. She bolted straight for Joseph, wrapping herself around him. When the dust settled, she climbed into the ambulance with him. I was still on the ground, bleeding out, and she didn't spare me a look. Eighteen years raising him, and apparently, that was all the space her heart had left. My coworkers dragged me to the hospital. ICU, barely breathing. When I finally clawed my way out, throat raw, I called my advisor. "Prof. Beaumont, I'm in. I'll go. Even if it means disappearing for five years, I don't care." That was supposed to be my wedding month. Not anymore.

I was bleeding out in a corner after a hit from a rival family. My husband, Dante—the Torrino family’s underboss—was in his car, holding his best friend's little sister. He gave me one cold look and said, "Leave her. She's a nobody." Later, after someone else saved me, I walked home, soaked in my own blood. I found Dante cradling Seraphina, fussing over her. All she had was a scraped knee. The blood covering my clothes? He didn't even see it. I just watched. Said nothing. Then I pulled out my phone and called my mother. "Mom, I need to come home."