Terribly Meaning

"Behold!" The Priestess yelled above the noise of the crowd. It became deathly silent. She could feel the malevolent eyes of the crowd on her and she didn't know why. "The Fox!" Cassidy let out a yip of horror that echoed in the silent village. A Fox Shifter. Cassidy was a Fox. Terror coursed through her smaller body. In all her pleading with the Moon Goddess, she had never thought she would be so terribly cursed. She would be torn limb from limb by the crowd. Shifting to the Fox was a death sentence. Neither prey nor an apex predator, the Fox was an outlier in Shifter society. The crowd roared as one as the High Priestess lifted her. "Run Cassidy, no-clan, and know that pain is only temporary." She whispered softly, before tossing Cassidy into the waiting crowd. All Cassidy had ever wanted was to survive her first Shift. If she didn't end up as prey, all the better. As the illegitimate child of the aging Alpha, and daughter of a rabbit shifter drudge, Cassidy knew the world was an unfair place for those who were not born predator. No one expected Cassidy to be a fox, least of all her. Reviled and feared by predator and prey alike, fox shifters were cast out from home and clan, into the wilderness. If they were lucky. And Cassidy had never been all that acquainted with luck. Rejected by her clan, beaten and broken, left for dead...Cassidy welcomed the darkness. But death will have to wait for her just a little longer. The Lycan King has need of a new assassin, and Cassidy is forced into his world of intrigue, politics, and romance.

I am a vampire, and that is the truth. But the modern meaning of the word vampire, the stories that have been told about creatures such as I, are not precisely true. I do not turn to ash in the sun, nor do I cringe when I see a crucifix. I wear a tiny gold cross now around my neck, but only because I like it. I cannot command a pack of wolves to attack or fly through the air. Nor can I make another of my kind simply by having him drink my blood. Wolves do like me, though, as do most predators, and I can jump so high that one might imagine I can fly. As to blood--ah, blood, the whole subject fascinates me. I do like that as well, warm and dripping, when I am thirsty. And I am often thirsty.

During a long holiday, my husband booked flights for a family vacation. On the way to the airport, I suddenly saw numbers appearing on everyone’s head. The numbers on my husband’s head indicated sixty years, but my parents and I had only six hours indicated on our heads. While I was puzzled over the meaning of those numbers, I noticed that the driver next to us only had six seconds indicated over his head through the car window. Five… Four… Three… Two… One. When the number turned zero, a massive truck immediately rammed into the car next to us. I saw flickers of fire, flesh and blood exploding before my eyes. People were screaming for help, but I could not hear anything. I trembled as cold sweat drenched my entire body. It was because my flight would be taking off in six hours.

Four days after my death, my four-year-old daughter finally sensed that something was terribly wrong. The fridge door slammed into her forehead when she tried to get a snack. Normally, I would've been there in a heartbeat—arms open, kisses ready, whispering, "You're okay, sweetheart, Mommy's here." But this time, I just lay on the bed, cold and still.​ She didn't understand. She thought the sweet treat would make me respond. So she held the final piece of chocolate up to my mouth. "Here, Mommy. Have some chocolate..." But I didn't even blink. She climbed into my arms, clutching my clothes tightly. "Mommy... Mommy, wake up..." She waited for me to stroke her hair, to tell her that everything was going to be fine. There was only silence.​ Completely lost and scared, she found my phone. "Daddy, why is Mommy still sleeping?" she asked, her voice filled with desperation.​ In response, Oliver sent a photo of himself having Christmas Eve dinner with his childhood sweetheart. His voice was icy cold when he replied, "She's just sleeping, not dead. It's Christmas Eve, and I'm busy. Tell her to stop playing games and come apologize when she's done sulking." Then he hung up.​ But when the truth finally hit Oliver—when the coroner's report came, when the police knocked on his door right in the middle of his laughter, when he realized I'd been lying dead for four days while he toasted—he broke.

When my husband told me to go bungee jumping, I did not scream. I did not cause a scene. I just nodded and said, "Okay." Keep in mind, I was eight months pregnant. I only agreed because I had already lived through this nightmare once before. In my past life, his precious childhood best friend, Lily Lane, had been feeling down. My husband, desperate to be her hero, told her he would make her one wish come true. Her wish? She wanted a partner to go bungee jumping with. My husband was terrified of heights, so he could not do it himself. Instead, he volunteered me. I refused on the spot, obviously. I told them I was not going to strap a harness over a baby bump and jump off a bridge. Lily got upset because I would not go. She went to a bar to drown her sorrows, and things went terribly wrong. Someone spiked her drink, and she was assaulted. She could not handle the trauma. She left a suicide note for my husband that read: "If I hadn't gone to the bar that night, would everything be different?" When my husband read that note, he snapped. He wrapped his hands around my throat. "Why didn't you just go with her?" he screamed, squeezing tighter. "Would it have killed you to just say yes?" He strangled me until everything went black. My unborn baby died with me. However, then, my eyes snapped open. I was back. I was standing right there in the moment my husband was asking me to jump.

Zoya Ironwood was nothing significant. Just a star fighter at Shadow Rings. She didn't have to be significant to survive. Zoya hid her identity as an omega for years. She was mated to Alpha Xander. Everything was fine. Until her whole world collided with Ragnar Throne, the cold immortal Lycan, or in simpler terms, pure evil and destruction. In one day, everything she struggles to build comes crashing down. She is left rejected and alone. She is forced to do his bidding and endure his manipulate ways if she wants to survive. It's almost bearable... But doesn't he know the meaning of personal space? Zoya can't imagine why he is coming close to her. But if she wants her freedom, then she must study her enemy very closely. Playing a dangerous game of love is the only way to end him. But whoever falls first looses.

Sophia. Meaning: wisdom. Sophia Syde, a young, nineteen-year-old who grew up in the shadow of her elder siblings now has to step into the world that provides her an experience out of her comfort zone. With initial hesitation and doubts, Sophia finds her new life fascinating to the point where she takes extreme measures to contain the position in the company. The company that is run by her older brother that is too sensitive about her wellbeing. Sophia has to take decisions, ones that shifts her life to an undiscovered territory of not only living but also personality. A personality she moulds herself into for adaptation in her newfound, chosen life. A life where she has to hurt someone, and trust other. Where she gets hurt by a foe but also adored by a lover. A life where family matters, but they're also the one to hurt her. Welcome to Sophia's happening life.

She was known as ‘Manslayer’ a ruthless woman who kills someone for money, she's fearless that knows no boundary. She's merciless and love seeing someone begged on their knees. She is Addison Mackenzie who killed her own emotions. Not until she met a man who changes her. He shows kindness, he just walks through her wall fuck her life, everything about her. Unknowingly, he freed her heart from where it belongs. He’s a damn thief who stoles a piece of her and now, she has got nothing but uncertainty. He showed love, a fucking love that she doesn’t even know the meaning and what can it does. Unfortunately, because of a mission she gave him rage, and everything was ruined. Will love conquers it all? Will she listen to his lullaby? Or she will just walk away as she did over and over again?

BOOK ONE OF A SERIES Diana Rivera didn't just witness the man she loved stabbing her father to death but was also framed for it, fleeing her birthplace in the process. When she realized that she was pregnant with his child, she knew she was going to be a single mum but five years later, viral news was able to bring her information about her father's murderer and she finally saw the dreadful face of the man she now loathed with the intention of killing him and fleeing his palace alive. But what if it turns out that this was only a minor misunderstanding, and her existence had a lot more meaning than mere revenge, especially when the Alpha King is not only the father of her child but also her fated Mate? Will they be able to put their differences aside and give the five-year-old child the answer to the question she always asked anytime she saw the Alpha King on TV, "Mummy, who is that man?"

Sent miles from home as part of an Alliance Contract to Thunderwolf Pack, the most powerful pack in the world. Promised mate to the Alpha's son? Fated mate to the Dragon-blood Fae Leader's son? Aria finds herself in the path of two formidably powerful entities as she struggles with her own identity as a werewolf Omega, daughter to an Alpha in the small country of New Zealand, she possesses a rare Alpha-positive gene that guarantees Alpha progeny. In this modern time of low birthrates and failing magic she holds the key to the survival of both races. But will she get to pick the one she loves or will she be forced to be a breeder guaranteeing Alphas where so far none have been born for twenty four years, worldwide. To save werewolves from a fate worse than death - chaos and madness from having no Alpha to control them. No one knowing the true meaning behind her Alpha+ genes - a destiny steeped in ancient fae scripture.