Tears Of My Enemies นิยาย & เรื่องราว

Rosa met James in a restaurant that he owned and because she was dressed in a shaggy clothing he thought she was an employee in one of his lowest restaurants. They had an argument and they resented each other after that day. James thought Rosa was a lowlife and also arrogant and Rosa thought James was just a rich jerk. They cross paths again in the most unbelievable way possible. Curious about their story? Find out in My Enemy is My Lover.

For Linda. I got up to my feet and wipe away the tears with my hands. I'm sure I look like a wreck right now. My eyes felt puffy and my clothes were dirty from the ground. Linda's blood was on me as well. I shook when I see it and when my eyes look back at the pool of blood.

I was no longer on top of my mate, but the spot he’d pleasured so well was a sore reminder of what we’d done last night. I smiled to myself, turning to look at my still-sleeping mate. As I turned to look at his face, though, my breath hitched as panic wrapped its cold fingers around my stomach. This was Marcus Hayes, my father’s worst enemy. The man who’d torn apart my father’s brother and left his mutilated body on our borders. The man who’d sworn that he’d mount my father and anyone from his line’s heads on spikes around his pack’s palace. This man – this monster – he would kill me if he saw me in his bed!

E L A R A Julian Hartmann. The name alone would make my father's jaw clench. Our families had been enemies for as long as I could remember, something about my grandfather and his, a business deal that collapsed and a friendship that never recovered. I don't know. The details are fuzzy, but the hatred was very clear. If I wanted someone Father couldn't control, someone powerful enough to protect me, someone Father would hate... I know it's insane. Completely insane.

It was finally over. I couldn’t believe it. It was finally over!! All around me, our enemies were being captured even after they submitted and the ones who got away were quickly brought back to face the music. I felt tears threatening to fall, but I swallowed hard to keep them at bay. I hoped we would win this fight. I prayed we would, but that little bit of doubt always niggled at the back of my mind.

I cry for them. The warm golden glow begins to grow out of Trev as more of my tears fall on him. And it dawns on me. My tears, they can heal. My body, my mind, my soul, can harm and kill in an instant. But, my tears, can save the wounded, mend the broken. My empathy can be the salvation. I can just as easily kill as I can cure. So, I cry some more. The more I cry, the faster his wounds stitch back together. Color returns to his face and his eyes open to look at me as if I am an angel. Trev reaches a hand up and holds my face as my tears keep streaming down.

The emergency lights turned on seconds later. A deep crimson glow flooded the archive. Then came a voice. Female. Calm. Distorted through the speaker system. "Hello there, Adrian." Every muscle in his body stiffened. The woman laughed softly. Not kindly. Not warmly. Like someone greeting an old enemy. "I was beginning to wonder if you'd ever discover the truth." The entire archive fell silent. Nobody dared moved. The air went still. Adrian stared upward. "Who are you?" The woman ignored the question.

Too alive. I leaned down beside her ear while my men secured the exits. "You should stop fighting," I murmured. "Or what?" My hand tightened around her waist. "Or I'll start enjoying this too much." She froze for exactly one second. Only one. But I felt it. The tension. I know she also felt it, because she stopped fighting. The fear mixed with something dangerously close to curiosity. And that was when I realized revenge had already become something worse. Because standing in the middle of blood, death, and screaming guests, all I could think about was how perfect my enemy felt in my hands.

Their single eyes rarely shed tears, but when they did, those tears held emotions that were both beautiful and devastating. The world around me blurred, my vision clouded by tears that streamed down my face. Bonbon, my friend, collapsed before me. His tiny form struggled, his small hand reaching out in desperation to touch mine. I rushed forward, my steps heavy with grief, tears blinding me as I stumbled towards him. The pain in my chest intensified, a crushing weight that threatened to suffocate me. Agony surged through me like a relentless tide. Seeing an ally wounded was excruciating, but watching a friend's life slip away was a torment beyond measure. "Bon—bon! B—Bonbon! Our journey isn'