The Descent Of The Demonic

She glared at the stormy skies, her gaze tired and accusing because she was so sure that somewhere out there in the clouds, way up high in Mount Olympus... there was a certain goddess of love laughing while watching Proserpina's current dilemma. This is the story of that one time the underworld's heir meets one stubborn werewolf who just won't leave her alone or also known as that awful moment of meeting the right person at the wrong time.

Disowned by her cold and unloving father, Raven is banished from high society and forced to work as a humble cleaner in her father’s company. However, in the shadows of the office building, she encounters Damon, a ruthless yet alluring mafia boss. When Damon makes her a tantalizing offer, Raven agrees, unknowingly embarking on a path that will thrust her into the center of a perilous game of love, betrayal, and power.

The useless, untalented, plain-looking, and spoiled Fourth Prince of the Imperial family is the black sheep of the imperial family especially compared to his respected and talented siblings. But when tragedy strikes the Imperial family he is forced to take upon danger in assisting and leading the remains of the Forbidden army to rejoin its General his Second Brother with his identity concealed. All the while secretly practicing Demonic Cultivation in secret to avoid being disowned. Also nursing his unrequited love for the cold God Of War, the revered General Fan. His Trials and Tribulation has begun.

She wanted to be free, but did that mean surrendering everything to Damien and his whims? Tired of her domineering husband, Valerie Tanner decides it's time to start a new life somewhere else. However, when she moves to Live Oak, her brother's friends show her a life of total abandon where someone else calls the shots, and she has no choice but to obey. Once she gives in, Valerie descends into a dark morass of exploits that leaves her reeling and craving more, even though she fights each order she's given. Her mind screams at her that it's wrong, but her body pleads for her to continue. The question now is: how far will she fall before she loses herself? Or, is this the path to show her who she truly is?

A dark and gloomy villa stood in the middle of the barren landscape, hidden from sight by a perched hedge. It was phenomenal and spectacular, but it makes it appear to have succumbed to a sullen and ominous atmosphere, both inside and out. A lanky hedge and gnarled shrubs give off the impression that the house has indeed been overlooked. The rainstorm seeping from the sewer pipes made the place appear miserable and dispirited. Needless to say, the house appeared razed to the ground and devoid of life. The house was made of rune stone that had been smeared darker in spots by downpours, sending it an insidious demeanor even during the day. The window frames were all padlocked and bricked up in steel frames and woods, as if what was inside would have been too grotesque to see, trying to give the impression that someone must have attempted to prevent something horrible from escaping. People have claimed that the residence was plagued by the witch who died there, but there has been no tangible evidence to substantiate their claims. It was even widely speculated that the villa was venomous and mowed down the leaves of trees that come into direct contact with its concrete pillars. People also construed a terrifying presumption that whoever tries to enter the house will never make it out alive because there is something inside that you would never dare to see with your very own eyes. Whatever was real or not, it was unmistakably foreshadowing, exponentially cold and savage at a hundredth of a thousand glances. A breathtaking doll sat competently on a rocking chair inside the house. Waiting complacently for someone brave and heroic enough to unravel the abominable and ghoulish mystery and paradox behind her enchanting, spine-chilling smile.

ในวันครบรอบงานวิวาห์ปีที่เจ็ดของเรา ฉันกำลังนั่งตักลูเซียนสามีมาเฟียของฉัน และจูบเขาอย่างดูดดื่ม นิ้วมือควานหาผลตรวจการตั้งครรภ์ที่ซ่อนอยู่ในกระเป๋าชุดราตรีผ้าไหมแสนแพง ฉันอยากจะเก็บข่าวเรื่องการตั้งครรภ์ที่มาอย่างไม่คาดฝันนี้ไว้จนกว่าจะถึงช่วงท้ายของค่ำคืนนี้ มาร์โกลูกน้องมือขวาของลูเซียนเอ่ยถามเป็นภาษาอิตาลีพร้อมรอยยิ้มแฝงเลศนัย “นายท่าน โซเฟีย นกน้อยตัวใหม่ของท่าน เด็ดไหมครับ?” เสียงหัวเราะแกมเย้ยหยันของลูเซียนแล่นผ่านทรวงอก ทำให้ฉันรู้สึกเย็นยะเยือกถึงกระดูกดำ เขาตอบกลับเป็นภาษาอิตาลี “เหมือนลูกพีชดิบที่เพิ่งเด็ดจากต้น ทั้งสดทั้งนุ่มนวลดีนะ” มือคู่นั้นลูบไล้ไปตามเอวของฉัน แต่สายตาของลูเซียนกลับไร้ซึ่งอารมณ์ “ปิดปากเอาไว้ให้สนิท ถ้านายหญิงของฉันรู้เข้า ฉันตายแน่” บรรดาลูกน้องหัวเราะคิกคักอย่างรู้ทัน พร้อมยกแก้วขึ้นสาบานว่าจะเงียบปากเอาไว้ เลือดอุ่นในกายของฉันค่อย ๆ กลายเป็นน้ำแข็งทีละนิด สิ่งหนึ่งที่คนเหล่านี้ไม่รู้เลยคือ คุณย่าของฉันมาจากเกาะซิซิลี ดังนั้นฉันจึงเข้าใจทุกคำที่พวกเขาพูดกัน ฉันพยายามคุมสติตนเองให้สงบ พร้อมกับปั้นรอยยิ้มไร้ที่ติในฐานะนายหญิงไม่ให้คลาย แต่มือข้างที่ถือแก้วแชมเปญกลับสั่นเทาไม่หยุด แทนที่จะสร้างเรื่องราวอะไร แต่ฉันกลับกดเปิดโทรศัพท์มือถือและเลื่อนหาจดหมายเชิญเรื่องโครงการวิจัยทางการแพทย์ระหว่างประเทศแบบรายบุคคลที่ได้รับมาเมื่อสองสามวันก่อน และกด “ยอมรับ” ภายในสามวัน ฉันจะหายไปจากโลกของลูเซียนแบบไม่ให้เขาตามหาได้อีก

As the only princess of the vampire race, many cast a doubtful look, regarded her with ridicule, and called her a fake. She wasn't bothered. In this world, nothing matter more than a power that came from oneself. Irene Hildegard came from a bloody place, with a power stronger than many races. She wanted to seek the truth of her mother's death, fight many battles, beat her presumptuous brothers, and in between, maybe take the responsibility of a certain powerful demonic lycan. *** They started as enemies. When the two met, sparks of fire would collide. Irene couldn't help but wonder, when did this lycan werewolf start getting possessive? His face was like a sculpture, without any blemishes. The masculine aura had a hint of evilness, carrying a poppy-like attraction. His deep voice was pleasing to the ears. "In this world, none would be more compatible with each other besides mates. It is not just for a lifetime, as long as a soul exists, the other would too. So, Rose, you know that the purpose of my existence is because of you."

After three years of marriage, William Harris’s first love, the woman he broke up with six years ago, returned from abroad. And she brought back a five-year-old son with her. Charlotte handed him the divorce papers with both hands. “Let’s end this. It’s better for you, for me, and for her.” William glanced at her and said dismissively, “Divorce? Can you afford to leave me?” Charlotte threw down the divorce papers and cut him out of her life for good. She severed every tie to the past and poured all her energy into her career, quickly rising to become an internationally renowned sleep disorder specialist. Powerful figures across the globe owed her favors and respected her work. The youngest heir of a foreign financial empire said, “Charlotte, just divorce him already. I can’t wait any longer.” The CEO of a multinational corporation said, “Charlotte, I’ll go with you when you file for divorce.” A world-famous attorney told her, “Charlotte, I’ll handle your divorce case myself.” Charlotte rubbed her temples. It wasn’t that she didn’t want the divorce. He was the one who refused to divorce her no matter what. Left with no other option, she made a public announcement. “Whoever can actually get this divorce finalized gets VIP seating at my divorce party.” Not long after, William received a divorce notice from her lawyer right in the middle of a shareholders meeting. Soon after that, a multi-billion-dollar project of his fell through. That same afternoon, he was nearly hit by a car right outside his own company. Later, Charlotte arrived at the hospital carrying a bouquet of flowers. “Let’s end this,” she said softly. “It’s better for everyone.” The cold and dignified William pulled her tightly into his arms, his eyes reddening. “You want a divorce? That’ll happen over my dead body.”

Angela Bailey spent six years believing her marriage was built on love, only to discover her devoted husband was nothing more than a polished illusion. When she filed for divorce and asked her daughter to leave with her, the little girl clung to another woman’s hand and called her “Mom.” Donald Turner, cold and entitled, told her, “As long as you apologize to Nina, you can still live your high-society life.” Angela scoffed. “You might not even stay in high society yourself.” She walked out of the Turner household with nothing, determined to rebuild her life from the ground up. With her own talent and grit, she joined a new company and went head-to-head with her ex. Just when Donald realized his mistake and wanted her back, another man stepped into Angela’s life—someone who protected her openly, supported her quietly, and cherished her without hesitation. Donald regretted everything and wanted her back. He appeared with their daughter, eyes red as he pleaded, “I’ll give you the entire Turner family. Please love me and our daughter again.” The man beside Angela laughed. “The Turner family? That means nothing. Angela doesn’t need it. And as for a daughter…” He looked at Angela, and together they said, “We already have one.”

From a campus romance to marriage, Dominic Fleming had always believed he led a perfect life. His wife, Isabella Sinclair, was dazzlingly beautiful. Their daughter, Lilith, was sweet and obedient. Dominic sometimes told himself he must have been a saint in a past life to deserve such happiness. Everything began to change the moment Isabella's so-called "sworn brother," Alexander Grant, entered their lives. Alex's name appeared more and more often, and it crept into every corner of their marriage. For Lilith's sake, Dominic endured the strain again and again until the day of the accident. As he lay on the operating table with his life hanging by a thread, Isabella was not at his side—she was with Alexander instead. That was the moment Dominic's heart finally turned cold. So why did Isabella regret it? She knelt with Alexander, who likewise barely clung to life, and wept as she begged Dominic for forgiveness. "Dom, I know I was wrong. Let's get married again. I will make him kneel and beg you for forgiveness," Isabella said. "Scram," Dominic replied. Isabella nodded eagerly. "Fine. I will throw him out right now!" "Get the fuck out too!" Dominic barked.