The Backyardigans Match On Mt Olympus Novels & Stories

Sweaty and calloused hands, heavy breaths, and bruises of the pasts has been what Calithea Amara Noval trying to either dodge or manage to turn down. Hindi niya pinangarap lumaban para mabuhay, pero hindi rin niya pinagsisisihan na lumalaban siya para sa buhay. The tranquil she couldn't recognize at any bumps and holes of her life she has been trying to revamp isn't like the black-and-blue-mark on her skin, but shades darker she couldn't conceal. The roars of beast outside the match ring put a pause on as she saw Theon North Ledesma inside. She didn't welcome him at all, but he happened to found his way inside her. Sa bawat pagpasok ni Theon sa sistema niya ay siya'ng paglabas ng katotohanan sa pagkatao niya. Winning the Conquest has been her thirst to get out of the Underground, para sa ranggo, para sa pribadong pagkatao habang nagbabanat ng buto. Pero ang katotohanan na ang yumao niya'ng ama ay isang dating manlalaro kapalit ng buhay at si Theon na sa kanya'y pumatay ay hindi niya matakbuhan, sinubukan pero hindi mabitawan. Caving in for a peaceful life on the south, she managed to do a living, and brought out a living. Pero sa pagtakbo, kahit anong tulin ay mayroong mas matulin. Kailangan niya'ng mabalikan ang ina, kailangan niyang makuha ang posisyon ni Theon sa Mafia para masira ito. Pero sa bawat hakbang paakyat, unti-unting nabubutas ang kan'yang nilalakaran kasabay nang pag-angat ng mga rebelasyon, kung ano siya, at sino siya. Sapat na nga ba ang posisyon ni Theon para makuha niya ang inaasam na panalo? o hindi na niya kailangang kunin ito? Pumasok siya sa isang laro, at tatapusin niya ito sa isa pang laro. Ang sipa at suntok na para nga ba kay Theon o sa iba na humahatak sa kaniya?

There were two famous deadweights in Kingsgate's high society. One was me, Millie Tanner, the pampered little princess whose only talents were shopping and throwing parties. The other was my childhood friend, Iver Langford, the fragile young heir born with autism and congenital heart failure. However, my older brother was the most feared name in the underworld, and my second brother was the richest man in the country. Iver's older sister was the undefeated queen of the courtroom, and his second sister was a surgeon whose hands could bring back the dead. One day, the four of them were chatting over a game of poker. "Raising one hopeless case takes the same effort as two. Might as well pair them off." Just like that, Iver and I signed the marriage papers. Our married life consisted of maxing out my second brother's credit cards, raiding my older brother's dinner table, and waiting for his sisters to show up with care packages. That was the routine, until my older brother sent us to attend a banquet at the Crestport tycoon's estate in his place. At the banquet, the tycoon's daughter, Portia Beaumont, waved around a blurry photo taken from behind and insisted I was the other woman who had stolen her boyfriend. I kept my temper. "You have the wrong person. I'm married, and this is my husband." Portia lost it on the spot and swung at me. "Married and still out here throwing yourself at men?" Iver stepped in front of me on instinct and took the slap meant for me. Blood seeped from the corner of his mouth. She sneered, "Oh, is he slow? His wife's out cheating and he can't even tell, but he still jumps in to protect her? One's a tramp, and the other's an idiot. The perfect match!" She flicked her wrist, and several bodyguards lunged toward us. "Get them both." My heart ached as I looked at Iver, and I dialed my older brother's number. "Someone's picking on me." These people had no idea. Crossing the four terrors of Kingsgate and living to tell about it was one thing. Messing with the two of us was something else entirely.

On the day I was supposed to get matching tattoos with Zach Cross, I waited at the studio from sunrise until nightfall. The tattoo artist glanced at me nervously. “Miss Annie, is the Godfather still coming? Maybe we should reschedule.” I lowered my eyes and forced a smile. “He promised he’d be here. I’ll wait a little longer.” Two hours later, Zach finally arrived. He was not alone. Julie Williams walked in behind him. She was carrying his jacket. When she saw me sitting in the tattoo chair, she offered an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Annie. I had no idea you two had a tattoo appointment today. Otherwise, I would’ve never asked Zach to pick me up from the airport.” Zach walked right past me. He glanced around the empty studio and said, “Let's begin.” Before I could say a word, he pointed at the tattoo chair and turned to Julie. “You first.” Julie froze for a second. She glanced at me, then reluctantly took the seat. The tattoo artist turned to look at me. Standing off to the side, I overheard Zach’s men whispering among themselves. “After all these years, Miss Julie is still the perfect match for the Godfather.” “Yeah. It’s a shame things didn’t work out back then.” I looked at Zach. I knew he had heard every word. However, instead of denying it, he turned to me and said coldly, “Julie’s here today. Watch your attitude. Don’t embarrass me.” My gaze drifted to his left hand’s ring finger. It was still bare. He once told me he would hide my name inside the petals of a rose tattoo—a secret only the two of us would ever know about. I worked with the tattoo artist through seven different revisions to get the design just right. When he proposed, he held my hand and said, “The most painful mark I’ll ever wear will belong to you alone.” I put on a bitter smile. Unfortunately, none of the marks he carried had ever truly belonged to me.

To afford train tickets home for New Year's Eve, I searched for a part-time job and stumbled into a livestream that was practically throwing money at the chat. A young woman in a silk robe rested her chin on her hand. Behind her, a villa glowed under expensive lighting that reflected off polished marble floors. "Being kept in here is suffocating," she said in a voice that mixed boredom with sweetness. "My sponsor gives me more money than I can spend. Help me out. Take some off my hands." Cash drops flashed across the screen one after another. I tapped as fast as I could, my heart hammering. A few large ones landed in my account. I was close. One more would cover both my ticket and my boyfriend's. The streamer leaned closer to the camera. "He keeps saying my tear mole looks like his girlfriend's," she said, her mouth twisting with disgust. "So unlucky. Of all things, I had to match with some broke girl." My finger slipped. I had a tear mole under my eye in the same spot. The live chat flooded with questions. [How is the sponsor's girlfriend broke?] The streamer gave a short snort and reapplied her lipstick, as if correcting a minor flaw. "He's just messing around. He tricked her into 200,000 dollars in debt. She's so stupid she works multiple jobs to help him pay it off." A chill settled in my chest. My boyfriend also owed 200,000 dollars. She continued, her tone light, "The funniest part? He slept with me for three days. When he left, I asked if he was giving her a taste of honey." She smiled cruelly. "He said all he has to do is claim he's going to work a construction site hauling rebar. The idiot will feel guilty and deliver food all night. So he won't need to please her." Another large cash drop flashed across the screen. The total reached the exact amount I needed. My phone rang. Benjamin's name lit up the display. When I answered, his voice sounded worn down, as if it had scraped against concrete. "Via, we still don't have enough for the tickets," he said. "I hauled rebar and made a little over 40 dollars. I'm heading home now."

The second day after I was transferred back to Los Angeles, I ran into someone I used to know on a street corner. She stepped right in front of me, eyes going wide. “Mia? Mia Rossi? Why would you come back now? Dante's marrying Camille at the cathedral in a week.” Dante was my first love, and also the youngest heir to a mafia dynasty on this side of the Atlantic. He'd made me a promise once: that he'd make the entire Moretti family kneel and welcome me in. We had a deal: the day he officially took over as Don would be the day he married me. But his family had other plans. They arranged a match for him: Camille, a princess from one of Sicily's five great families. Pure bloodline, the genuine article. At first, Dante swore up and down she meant nothing to him. Less than nothing. Then I started noticing how he looked at her. Softer every time. Like he was falling. One night, riding home after a shift at the bar, Camille's car came out of nowhere and took me down. The gas tank caught, and half the block reeked of burning rubber and scorched metal. I was pinned under the wreckage, blood seeping from the back of my skull down my neck, warm at first, then cold. Dante was the first one there. He beat the ambulance. The first thing he did was walk past me. He crouched down, lifted Camille out of the passenger seat, and didn't look at me once, just dropped a few words over his shoulder: “I already called an ambulance. Hang tight. Camille's had too much to drink. I need to get her home.” That was the moment I was done with him. Completely, finally done. While he was gone, I discharged myself. I bought the farthest plane ticket I could find that same night and left without looking back. Five years passed. “Mia, you have no idea.” The woman grabbed my wrist, dropping her voice. “Dante spent years turning half of Europe upside down looking for you. You came back at the right time. He still keeps a seat for you every month on his birthday. Camille's too proud for a lot of things,

I paid Curtis Robinett 200 thousand dollars a month to be a standby blood donor. My fiancée, Eden May, thought it was a waste of money. So she reassigned him to work part-time as her personal assistant instead. When Curtis accidentally submitted my marriage license appointment as a divorce filing for the 99th time, I kicked open Eden's office door. She didn't even look up. "We're in no rush to get married anyway," she said calmly. "Curtis is just careless. That's how he's always been." Later, in the emergency room, I called Eden while doctors rushed around me, my throat shredded from yelling. "Where's my emergency medical kit?" I rasped. "What did you do with it?" Curtis answered instead, his voice warm and smug. "You mean the expensive leather bag you kept in the cabinet? I swapped it out for a large party snack box. It holds everything just fine, and honestly, it looks a lot more cheerful. "Ms. May's brother and sister-in-law are both career soldiers. Your bag didn't really match that image, so I thought this would be more appropriate." My vision dimmed. My hands shook as I told Curtis to come donate blood. Eden laughed softly and cut in, "Stop pretending you're anemic just to get attention. If you're actually sick, deal with it. You're at the hospital; I think the doctors are fully capable of keeping you alive. Curtis is afraid of needles. He's not coming." Then, she hung up. She didn't appear until the surgical lights finally went dark. "Curtis had me bring you chocolate milk," she said. "It's good for recovery. It's not that he didn't want to help. He just faints at the sight of blood." She placed a settlement waiver on my bed. "I was the one who told him not to come. That 200-thousand-dollar monthly salary is his pay as my assistant. It has nothing to do with you. You didn't have to call the police for that. Sign this, and I'll go get the marriage license with you." I thought of what I had just seen in the operating room. Eden's brother, Harvey May, was bleeding out on the operating table, waiting for a lifesaving drug that never came. In the final moments of surgery, he could do nothing but lie there and die. I looked at her and said evenly, "You're the immediate family. It's not my place to sign that."

My mate, Jasper Morrison, says coldly, "Elena, I'm breaking our mate bond." We stand on the open ground at the edge of the Silvermoon pack's territory. The full moon hangs high overhead, and this should be the sweetest moment for fated mates. We've loved each other for ten years. And now, he's about to break the bond Moon Goddess has given us. "Why?" I ask in a shaky voice. "You're an orphaned wolf," he says, turning his face away. "You don't have the bloodline to match me. The pack Elders have already approved this." A tearing pain rips through my chest. Having the mate bond stripped from me feels like my soul is being torn apart. I collapse to my knees, gasping for air. "Serena's father is one of the strongest Alphas in the North," Jasper says, looking down at me without a trace of guilt. "She'll help me rise as the strongest Beta in the Silvermoon pack's history." "You said…" I clench my teeth, fighting the pain. "You said you'd spend your life with me." "I was young and foolish," Jasper replies, already turning away. "The bonding ceremony is in three days. I suggest you don't cause trouble." Moonlight glints off his retreating form. I watch him walk away, my fingers clutching the moonstone bracelet my mother left me. It's my only keepsake. A message from an unknown number appears. "Elena, this is Damon, your older brother. I've been looking for you for 20 years." "I've attached a black card with unlimited credit. The resources of the entire Blackwood pack are at your disposal. No matter what you're facing, I've got you." I stare at the screen. The Blackwood pack? The top wolf pack in North Anthica? Another message soon pops up. "I'll come get you in three days. Wait for me." My finger hovers over the delete button. It has to be a scam. I'm just an orphaned wolf. How could I possibly have a brother from the Blackwood pack? Just then, a voice message from Jasper arrives. "Elena, for old times' sake, I'll arrange a place for you in one of the pack's spare houses when the ceremony ends. You can stay as part of the pack. I'll take care of you." He wants me to watch him bond with another she-wolf and thank him for keeping me in the pack. I delete Jasper's contact, then rename the unknown number in my phone to "Damon". My fingers tremble as I type a single word. "Okay."

I am Ayna Radolf, the only White Wolf in Moonshadow Pack. Everyone says I grew up cherished by Carlson Moonclaw, the Alpha. When I was three, my father died in battle. Carlson held me in a pool of blood and swore to protect me for life. When I was five, I was bullied in the pack because of my unusual fur color. He announced to the entire pack that anyone who touched me was his enemy. For 15 years, I have lived under his protection, offering him my heart and my life without reservation. At 18, Carlson falls under the vampires' death curse. I willingly sacrifice half of my lifespan and beg a witch to use a forbidden spell to transfer the curse onto me. With that, I take on his certain death. On that same day, as I watch his unconscious form and tightly furrowed brows, I cannot help but kiss the corner of his lips. He wakes up. Unexpectedly, there isn't any tenderness or any trace of emotion—only overwhelming rage and disgust. He grips my chin with horror in his eyes, as if he is looking at a filthy maggot. "Ayna, I am your brother! How dare you have such disgusting thoughts?" From that day on, Carlson has avoided me like the plague. This goes on until Selena Fang, his so-called fated mate, returns. She cries and tells him that she is abused and abandoned by her former mate. Now, she is blind and covered in injuries. The healer declares that only my White Wolf's eyes are a perfect match for her. So my Alpha, the brother I loved for 15 years, comes to me. Carlson stands in front of me and says solemnly, "Ayna, I know this is unfair to you. But if Selena doesn't have eyes, she will live in darkness for the rest of her life. As long as you give her your eyes, I will do anything you ask—except give you my love." I snap back to reality and dig my fingers hard into my palm. The sharp pain clears my mind instantly. I am not dreaming. I am reborn and back to the day Carlson forces me to give up my eyes. In my previous life, I refused to the end. During the struggle, Serena "accidentally" fell off a cliff, and her body was never found. Carlson blamed me for everything. On my birthday, he gouged out my eyes and threw me into the dungeon where rogue wolves were imprisoned. There, I was assaulted endlessly. In the end, I died in the cold, damp darkness like a piece of discarded trash. The despair and pain from before my death still linger in my bones. I look at the man in front of me. The love that once filled my chest completely fizzles out into nothingness. I will give him these eyes as repayment for the 15 years he has protected and raised me. From now on, we will go our own ways, and we owe each other nothing.