The Summer Hikaru Died Chapter 27 Mga Nobela at Kwento

Lucien Dravon does not forgive. He built his pack from nothing after the Oakshade Packs burned everything he loved to the ground. Six years later, he is still waiting for the right moment to finish what they started. Then the High Council hands him a choice, take the enemy Alpha's daughter as his bonded mate, or watch everything he rebuilt fall apart. He chooses the alliance. He tells himself it is a strategy. He is wrong. Alira Vael has spent her whole life paying for her father's sins with her silence. She is not a fighter. She is not a schemer. But she walks into Ashveil carrying something far more dangerous than a weapon, and she has been waiting years for the right person to give it to. The moment their hands touch, fate makes a decision neither of them asked for. He wants to hate her. She already knows why. But the longer she stays, the more his walls crack. And the more his walls crack, the closer she gets to the secret that could either end the blood feud between their packs, or light it back on fire. He swore to destroy her family. She came to help him do it. So what happens when the enemy you were built to hate turns out to be the one person who was always on your side?

I was scrolling through reddit when I came across a post seeking advice. The poster said he had HIV but was hiding it from his fiancée. The post had tens of thousands of likes. Intrigued, I clicked to read more. As I went through the details, I realized—why did his description of the fiancée sound so much like me?

Timothy Holt was someone my family sponsored. He was extraordinarily gifted in mathematics, winning an international gold medal at just 17. Yet for the prom queen's sake, he was willing to give up his chance to further his studies abroad I couldn't bear to watch someone with such a brilliant future ruin his own prospects, so I handed the girl a check and sent her overseas. Later, Timothy achieved both fame and fortune. However, when my family fell into hardship, he kicked us while we were down. An accident followed, and we both died. Before his death, he said to me: if he could start over, he hoped I would show mercy and stop interfering in his life. Thus, just as he wished, in this lifetime, I chose to stay out of his business.

Before the holidays, my old house was demolished by the government, so I received a settlement of almost five million dollars. The next morning, Lawrence Gellar, one of my buddies who hailed from the same village, invited me to a game of poker. Unexpectedly, not only did I lose five million dollars overnight, but I had also written an IOU note to Lawrence, claiming that I still owed him more than a million dollars. Dad rushed all the way from home just to deliver the money that was meant for his treatment. But he relapsed into his sickly condition due to exhaustion, which resulted in his death. Later on, Lawrence kept splashing red paint onto my home and caused a ruckus at my workplace every day. I couldn't handle his harassment at all, so I chose to commit suicide. When I open my eyes again, I see Lawrence sitting right in front of me while yelling, "Why did I lose again? Since you're on a lucky streak, you have to play a few more rounds!"

My best friend loved playing 'jokes.' On my birthday, she projected my worst photos in front of everyone, saying she just wanted to 'liven up the mood.' When I was on my period, she deliberately gave me a defective pad. Even when she saw the stain on my clothes, she said nothing–claiming she was helping me 'get more attention.' After I started dating, she edited my photos into suggestive images and spread them across social media groups, pricing them like a product. When I finally snapped and confronted her, she just laughed. "I'm just helping you test your boyfriend," she said. "If he doubts you, then he doesn't really love you. How can you blame me?" Later, a man used the information from those posts to track me down and harm me. I did not survive what followed. However, when I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day she first shared those images.

I'm the most sought-after makeup artist in horror games. Before each round begins, the bare-faced NPCs sit obediently in a row, waiting for me to work my magic. With my makeup skills, they're twice as intimidating to players, and their performance soars. Even the Demon Boss seeks me out. As I face the Demon Boss with all 16 heads and 32 eyes staring at me, the corner of my mouth twitches. "Sure, I can do your makeup, but it'll cost extra."

After returning home from abroad, I took a job as a driver to broaden my horizons. However, I got hired to drive a car with my dad’s car plate, and the location I was sent to was the city’s largest nightclub. I was suspicious about the location where I would pick up the car and the client. When I arrived, I found a bunch of people buttering up the poor student my family used to sponsor. “Have you had fun today, Mr. Morgan?” they asked. “If you’re unhappy with the ladies tonight, we’ll make sure there are better ones tomorrow night!” It was only when he called me that I realized he was my client. I went and questioned him about why he was driving my dad’s car, but he kicked me to the ground. “How dare a mere driver try to scam me? Get down on your knees and kiss my feet!” Then, he ordered his bodyguards to hold me down. They made me do as he asked. He went so far as to press cigarettes into my face, burning me. I withstood the pain and sent a photo of my dad’s car to my family’s group chat. [Dad, why are you going to Dreamscape behind Mom’s back and hiring girls for a night out?]

I went to the hospital to pick up prenatal vitamins for my pregnant girlfriend, Nina Pringle, but I saw her in a room instead. She was staring at her ex, Shane Miller, guilt all over her face. "I'm sorry. I really didn't expect to get pregnant. "I told you, I'm with Felix just to see whether you still care about me..." Shane didn't hold back. "So when are you finally breaking up with him?" She shook her head, something cold flashing in her eyes. "He's been messing things up between us for too long. I'll make him feel guilty—get him to give me whatever I want... whatever we need. Don't worry. I don't love him."

My boyfriend tells me he's a monster in a game, but I think he's lying. What monster would have washboard abs and defined obliques? And what monster would keep asking me for hugs and kisses? Everything changes when I end up in a survival game one day. I'm stuck in a dark, cold ocean when the main boss of the game, a scary tentacled monster, entangles me in its grasp. When it speaks, the voice is gentle and familiar. "Kiss me, Ara."

On our seventh wedding anniversary, my husband's childhood sweetheart called, claiming a burst pipe at her home. Without a second thought, he ditched our celebration to play handyman. Moments later, Vivian Duffy's social media lit up with a smug post. [No matter when or where, my Superman arrives at one call. How should I reward him?] Accompanying the post was a photo of scattered condoms and torn clothing on the floor. I forced a smile, picked up my phone, and dialed a number. "My pipe is broken. Care to fix it?"