The Story Of The Rabbit And The Turtle

In a world full of craving wolves, she couldn't roam around like an innocent rabbit in the den's of her predator because she knows it too well, that a certain big bad wolf is preying on her. Waiting to devour every inch of her body. But instead of devouring her in a torturous way, her predator devours her in a more pleasurable and sensual manner. And she's the prey that is a willing victim. She's a prey bewitching her predator with her innocence, making her predator, the big bad wolf, breaking the rules.

“Can—Can you say that again?” I plead, assuming that I misheard his original verdict. “Six months, if you’re lucky,” he says, flipping through his clipboard of papers. “This pregnancy has accelerated your hepatocirrhosis, which will likely only leave you with less than half a year of life expectancy.” Bad mate could destroy you and tear your soul apart. 5 years ago, Harold was a new alpha with his manipulative soon-to-be luna girlfriend Alicia. Harold was wounded fighting in the war. His mate Olivia followed the scent, then appeared and saved him. She gave him blood transfusion when he was in extreme need of blood, which almost killed her. But Harold was too unconscious to know who had saved him. When Harold was taken back to pack, who was still in a coma but out of danger. The doctor judged that he was very likely to lose the ability to move his legs. After knowing this, Alicia abandoned him and left his pack immediately, to find another luna position. Olivia took care of this man in coma for waiting her mate to wake up. But when Harold woke up, Alicia was back again. This evil girl trapped him and ruined Olivia, filled all this alpha's head with lies. Not only Alicia took marriage and luna title away from Olivia, but also her pups and life. But fortunately, Moon Goddess has her own plan. Olivia has the very rare second chance at life. She came back as another woman, the Luna Queen. But at that very moment, the Luna Queen was going to divorce her Alpha King! And the story begins ——！

In a world full of craving wolves she couldn't roam around like an innocent rabbit in the den's of her predator because she knows it too well, that there is a certain big bad wolf preying on her. Waiting to devour every inch of her body. But instead of devouring her in a torturous way, her predator devour her in a more pleasurable and sensual manner. And she's the prey that is a willing victim. She's a prey bewitching her predator with her innocence, making her predator, the big bad wolf, breaking the rules. [English Book Version of Breaking Rules by Gothic Grace]

My three-year-old daughter was playing in the room, and she suddenly fell from the window of the room and died. In my past life, I held her lifeless body after learning the news, crying so hard I thought I would never stop. But when my husband rushed back, he slapped me across the face without a second thought. "How could you be so cruel? You actually threw her out of the window—she was only three!" I was too stunned to react. Later, my husband and my best friend teamed up and testified that I had thrown my daughter from the window because I had an argument with my husband. I was cyberbullied and labeled the "evil mom". Amid the public hatred and the pain of losing my daughter, I jumped to prove my innocence. Even in death, I still didn't understand. My daughter had been fine playing in the room—how did she fall out of the window? When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day she fell.

On the fifth year of their marriage, finding the vitamin C her husband bought tasted too bitter, Jeanne Dotson went to the hospital with the bottle. The doctor took one look and frowned. "This isn't vitamin C." "I-I'm sorry, Doctor?" "I could say it a dozen times and it'd still be the same," the doctor replied, pointing at the bottle. "This is Mifepristone. Taking too much of it doesn't just cause infertility—it can do serious harm to your body." Jeanne felt a lump stuck in her throat, and her fingers turned pale from clenching the bottle. "That's impossible. My husband got this for me. His name is Darren Walsh—he's a doctor here too." The doctor looked up at her, his expression turning strange, tinged with something she couldn't quite read. After a pause, he gave a small smile. "Miss, you might want to visit the psych ward instead. We all know Dr. Walsh's wife—she gave birth just two months ago. Don't let your imagination run wild, all right? There's no point."

Because of the poem he accidentally read, Satsuto's sexual orientation turns upside down. And when he realize that the boy he hates the most was actually he's in love to, what would he do? Can he even melt the cold-as-ice heart of that sanguinarian Snow? “I'll give you your fill and you'll give me a head, how about that?” Read how Satsuto Fuentes will fall deep into the homosexuality rabbit hole as he pursue Snow Benesisto.

While preparing for the SATs at the library, my brother is accidentally shot and injured, causing him to bleed profusely. I pass by this scene but turn a blind eye and quicken my pace to leave. This is because in my previous life, when I saw him, I rushed him to the hospital in a panic. He had intracranial hemorrhaging, and he urgently needed surgery. I quickly called my mom, the top neurosurgeon in the city, begging her to come to the hospital as soon as possible. However, she thought I was jealous that she had taken my adopted sister to the beach instead of spending time with me. She also believed I had fabricated the story about my brother's injury, and thus refused to return. By the time my dad and the rest of the family hurried to the hospital, it was too late for rescue efforts—my brother had passed away. The whole family blamed me for his death. They were convinced that I had deliberately misled my mom and delayed his critical treatment. When my mom returned from out of town, she lost her composure and pushed me down the stairs, watching coldly as I bled to death. After opening my eyes again, I had returned to the day my brother was shot at the library.

25 years ago, a maternity nurse secretly switched me out for her daughter. Unfortunately for her, my six-year-old brother saw this and secretly switched me back. 25 years later, the maternity nurse comes knocking with her actual daughter by her side. She accuses me, the heiress of Crawford Group, of being an impostor. The company's janitor starts insulting me and insinuates that my lipstick is a cheap imitation. Even my boyfriend humiliates me with her. "And here I thought you were the heiress of the Crawford family. You can't even compare to a hair on Pammy's head!" When the DNA test results are out, everyone is stunned. "That wretch bewitched me, Lori! Please forgive me—give me another chance!" my boyfriend cries. I look at him icily. "Another chance to do what? To clean the toilets?"

In front of the orphanage gates, Rebecca Schwartz, the impoverished student I had been sponsoring, stood glaring at me with a face full of disdain. "If you don't let Freddie come along, I'm not going to your house either," she declared, her tone sharp and unyielding. In the past, blinded by love and hopelessly infatuated, I would have caved to her demands, humbling myself just to keep the peace. But things were different now—I had been reborn. Staring at this despicable pair, who had once caused my tragic demise, a tidal wave of fury surged within me. Yet, it settled into nothing more than a faint, icy smile on my lips. "Then stay here," I said, my voice cold and steady. "Rot in this place alongside your precious Freddie. After all, trash like you belong in the garbage heap."

For five years, I thought our marriage was solid. Then, my husband, Lionel Franco’s first love, Sandra Howard, posted a photo of a property deed on her social media. The caption read: [Thank you, Lionel, for transferring the house to me.] I stared in disbelief and left a single comment: [WTF?] Lionel called within minutes. “She’s a struggling single mother. Transferring the house to her makes it easier for her son to get into school. It doesn’t affect where we live,” he snapped. “How can you be so lacking in compassion?” In the background, I heard her muffled sobs. Half an hour later, she tagged me in another post.  This time, she flaunted her Mercedes worth over a million dollars, with the caption: [Paid in full. As the saying goes, ‘Where a man spends his money, that's where his heart is’.] I knew he bought it to soothe her temper. But this time, I had enough. I decided to divorce him.