Thanks God Level Up Artinya

Extract Alpha Dominic’s gaze cut through me like ice. “I don’t know you,” he spat, his voice filled with disgust. “How dare you show up out of nowhere, claiming to be my mate, claiming to carry my child, when I have never laid eyes on you before?” “Um, I—” I opened my mouth to explain, to tell him everything, but he cut me off. “Are you here for money? Is that it?” Without waiting for an answer, he reached into his car and pulled out a bundle of cash, flinging it at my feet. “I don’t want to see your filthy face again. I won’t waste my energy rejecting you. We will never be together. The moon goddess must have been mistaken to think a lowlife like you could be my mate.” The money lay scattered on the ground as hot tears blurred my vision. “I’m not lying,” I sobbed. “I am carrying your child.” Wolfless and satisfied, all Odette ever wanted was to be promoted and to become a full-time teacher. But her world came crumbling down when her boss made sexual advances at her, saying it was the only way for her to keep her job. Brokenhearted, she ran from the school, and instead of going home to her family, she went to a hotel, got drunk, ended up in the bed of a stranger, and got pregnant afterwards. She was sent out of the house by her mother until she aborted the baby. Will she abort the baby? Or find the father of her child?

Even after being married for three years, my husband treats me like a stranger. When I throw up blood from pregnancy complications, he's in the prayer room chanting for his foster sister, Yvie Springton. He accuses me of being dramatic. If Yvie so much as gets a headache, he drops everything and flies overseas to be by her side. When his parents are in critical condition after a car crash, I beg him to go see them one last time. But what does he do? He claims I'm cursing Yvie. When I go into early labor and cling to life after giving birth to our son, he posts a photo of his international boarding pass on social media. At his parents' funeral, he returns to the country with Yvie and demands I leave the marriage with nothing. The day our divorce finalizes, he holds a wedding ceremony with her. I bury his parents alone. Then, at an exclusive auction, dead set on winning the famous painting for Yvie, he offered a staggering price. Even his accounts are frozen. That's when he finally realizes he's been disowned by the Springton family. His eyes are bloodshot, and he's furious as he demands answers. I simply gesture for my lawyer to step forward. He says, "Mr. Springton, take a look at this will."

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.

I am Seranda Williams the uwanted, born from a lineage of slaves, embedded with the mark of Zeranda cursed god of the souls of the dead. A plague waiting to be eradicated. a plague waiting to be destroyed, a celebration at my death, festivity at the sight of my blood. I stare from the open bars of my home, a crumbling place known to others as a dungeon, but I have called this place home for the last 18 years, today is that day, the long-awaited day of my death. I feel nothing, I have been groomed as a sacrificial lamb. am neither the first nor will I be the last, it will soon be time. Nothing is there to be felt, I was neither provided information on why I must die, nothing could break me. No, they can't…can they? Neglected separated front all. Groomed as a sacrificial lamb, what was there to hope for? I am not the first nor will I be the last, it will soon be time. I have lived off scraps of food for the longest time, not like I saw meaning to why I was fed. I was going to be killed either way. I got myself ready, but there wasn't much to be done, I washed my hair with the little water left from the previous day, I have been isolated from humans since my birth. I did not get the chance to be a child like every other kid out there. I was barely given enough to last me for 18 years. The door abruptly opens and hefty men rush in with chains and shackles. “Tie the slave”

“IKAW?” My eyes nearly popped out of my face when I saw him—the mysterious stranger from last night. Is it him? The same man? Parang gusto kong mahimatay. Wehh? Hindi pwede! Impossible! my inner voice screamed, pero ang katawan ko nanginginig na parang nakuryente. Hard f*ck na yata ng buhay ‘to. And suddenly, a memory crashed into me like a tidal wave. That night. That stupid, reckless night. The stolen kisses, the laughter between moans, the way he made me beg—“Wag kang titigil!”—like I’d lose myself if he stopped. I swore I’d never see him again. I swore it was just a one-night stand, a mistake I could bury. But now he’s standing right in front of me. Not just a man. Not just anyone. But the CEO. And worse… the ex-boyfriend who once shattered my heart. His smug grin sent shivers down my spine. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?” he said, like fate itself was mocking me. I froze, torn between rage, fear, and something I couldn’t even name. My mind screamed run, but my heart whispered, stay. My world was spinning, and suddenly, every choice felt heavier than ever. Will this be the start of something dangerous… or a responsibility I can’t escape?

Dionysus finds sanctuary in the human realm, stowing away from the heavenly gates of Olympus. He wears the scars of defeat, melancholy, and betrayal in his heart the moment he set foot on earth, vowing never to return until he has regained his pride and honor. However, at love's playful coincidences, The wine god alias Kim Yeojoon, secret CEO of Victoire Wine Company, dreams of an unfamiliar face that had not only awakened his cold heart, but has left him chasing for more answers. With a few pulls of power in his midst, he finally was able to put a name to that face. Behind that otherworldly beauty is Charon, a famous model under the name Han Sejin, the ferryman of Styx that guides the souls of the dead to the afterlife. Will the stirring of his heart's desire be a sign of a new beginning? or will it be the cause of his misery, with an unknowable prophecy looming over him?

After picking up an unconscious man on the street, I took him home and took care of him in the hope of earning some money as thanks from his family. However, this man lost his memory and did not know what his name was and where he came from. Seeing that he was quite handsome and healthy, I lied that I was his wife and forced him to work with me to make money. The happy life did not last long when I suddenly read an article about him and discovered that he was a famous cold and cruel billionaire. So, that night, I gathered all my clothes and money and ran away because I was afraid he would punish me for deceiving him.

Theirs was a love that was cursed. He was a God cast down and turned into a Lycan. She was his bride that was lost in time and was reborn as a werewolf. But, does finding her will lead to a happy ever after? A divinity to regain. A beloved to save. And a lineage to protect. Four Kingdoms. Four Elemental Wolves. One was in dire need of survival One was a damsel in distress The other was a demigod... And an Alpha Queen who has been raised to feel no emotion. Four rare creatures of the night were born of the elements. Who among them is the Bride of the Lycan God?

Eager to get rid of her crush on her psychopathic professor, nineteen-year-old Azira Sidorov tries to reel him in by getting into trouble to get his attention. But what she never expected was Professor Blaine's dark, depraved ways to consume her whole. — Professor Blaine is psychotic. It's there in the ruthless ways he punishes students. It's there in his eyes. In his movements. And years spent observing him has made Azira Sidorov develop a soft spot for the hot, intimidating professor. Tired of holding back, she tries to reel him in by causing trouble so she could be close to him. But Professor Blaine is anything but human. He's a cold-hearted beast. When Azira wakes up the beast, he won't leave her alone. And maybe, just maybe, she likes the thrill of his whips. The harshness of his palm on her skin. The burn of his chains on her wrists. She should quit him before she ends up broken beyond repair. But Professor Blaine is an addiction. And he will consume her whole. Warning: This is a purely sadistic book. If you can't handle deep depravity, please don't read.

When I woke up that morning and happened to glance at the mirror, a scream tore from my throat before I could stop it. Because on the face I had always taken such pride in, there was now a jagged, horrifying scar. As terror gripped me, a cool, detached female voice cut through the air beside me. "What are you shrieking about so early in the morning? Scared by your own ugly face?" I looked up in shock and realized the voice belonged to my girlfriend, Alicia. Only—she wasn't the same girl from yesterday. Gone was the youthful innocence I remembered. In its place, every movement, every glance radiated the allure of a mature woman. The words slipped out before I could hold them back. "Babe… you're gorgeous…" But Alicia's brows knit together, her gaze colder than ice. "Kurt, drop the act!" Act? I was at a loss. Why would she accuse me of pretending? "Don't call me the way you used to five years ago. It's disgusting." Five years ago? But… I'm still twenty-three… am I not?