Thors Hammer Pendant

J'ai découvert que j'étais enceinte en même temps que Rosa, l'amour de jeunesse de mon mari mafieux. Pour protéger son bébé de l'avortement que ses parents souhaitaient, mon mari a revendiqué l'enfant de Rosa comme étant le sien. Quant au mien ? Il m'a manipulée, me disant qu'il ne réclamerait le mien qu'après la naissance de celui de Rosa. Je l'ai confronté, exigeant de savoir pourquoi il m'avait fait ça. Sa réponse a été froide et implacable : « Revendiquer son bébé comme le mien était le seul moyen de les protéger tous les deux. Je ne laisserai rien leur arriver, ni à elle ni à l'enfant. » À cet instant, en regardant l'homme que j'avais aimé pendant dix ans, j'ai réalisé que mon amour pour lui était mort. Peu de temps après, ma famille m'a condamnée, me traitant de s*lope pour avoir eu un enfant sans père et m'a mise sous pression pour avorter. Pendant ce temps, mon mari était dans une autre ville, avec sa bien-aimée, à l'aider à travers sa grossesse. Lorsqu'il est revenu, j'étais déjà partie.

Il la voulait juste pour une nuit et pas pour toujours. Le jour de son anniversaire, ivre et imprudent, le futur Alpha, Harry Blackridge prend ce qu’il avait toujours voulu pendant des années, son corps et au matin il réalise l’erreur que le destin avait faite. Elle est son âme sœur. « Oublie ce qui s’est passé, » lui dit-il, froid et distant, et elle le fait, ou essaie de le faire, jusqu’à ce qu’une attaque de rogue la mette à l’hôpital de la meute, saignant et appelant son nom, encore et encore, pendant qu’il reste dans une autre pièce tenant la main d’une autre femme. Cela la brise complètement, tout devient encore pire quand elle découvre même qu’elle est enceinte aussi. La loi de la meute ne laisse aucun choix. Un an, un contrat et un mariage sans promesses et sans amour. La nuit, il la touche comme si elle lui appartenait, son corps sûr même quand son cœur ne l’est pas, et elle le laisse faire, mais ne lui donne jamais plus. Maintenant il veut tout mais elle n’est pas sûre de le vouloir encore.

« J'ai besoin de votre aide pour simuler un crash de jet privé, » ai-je dit calmement. « C'est le seul moyen pour moi de quitter Lucas Moreau. » Les gens disaient qu'il avait renoncé au trône de la Mafia pour moi. Ils l'appelaient l'homme qui avait troqué le pouvoir contre l'amour, l'héritier qui avait abandonné le sang et l'or pour épouser une serveuse des bas-fonds. Pendant des années, il a fait croire au monde en notre histoire. Il a bâti des empires à mon nom. Il m'envoyait des roses tous les lundis. Il a déclaré à la presse que j'étais son salut. Mais l'amour ne signifie pas toujours la loyauté. Pendant que je croyais encore à l'éternité, il construisait une seconde maison dans mon dos – une maison remplie de rires, de jouets, et des fils jumeaux qui ont hérité de ses yeux. La nuit où j'ai disparu, son empire a brûlé. Il a ravagé des villes, corrompu des gouvernements, et enterré des hommes vivants pour me retrouver. Mais au moment où il y est parvenu, j'étais déjà partie. Et la femme pour laquelle il était autrefois prêt à mourir ne l'aimait plus assez pour rester en vie.

Jade est en maison de repos, elle a perdu sa famille dans un accident de voiture pendant lequel elle était derrière le volant, depuis des mois maintenant elle se sent vide, presque comme morte et se bat pour s'en sortir. Nora est musicienne et rend visite à sa mère dans la maison de repos, sa musique apaise la brune et son sourire lui redonne un peu vie. Elle est sa lueur d'espoir. . Attention. Mention de dépression, de traumatisme, et de souffrances physiques et psychologiques.

My crippled sister, Monica Porter, jumped from the roof of the classroom building. The day before she died, she had just been fitted with the custom prosthetic legs I had paid for with ten years of savings. She was glowing, excited to finally stand up on her own. But my wife's best friend, a guy she said was just like a brother to her, locked Monica inside an empty art room. He smashed her new legs, forced her to crawl on the floor and lick paint clean to retrieve the broken parts, and recorded everything on video. And my wife, a judge, ultimately ruled that the case could not stand. "The video cannot confirm the time it was recorded and may represent consensual performance art between both parties," she said. Sandra Pauley's final judgment was simple. "The deceased had a history of depression. The school and the defendant bear no responsibility." I smiled and cooked her a full table of food. The next day, I hung the bully, Eric Hoyles, from the school's flagpole and livestreamed it to the entire internet. "Honey, remember how you said Monica had such pretty legs?" I raised a claw hammer and brought it down on his ankle. "If you don't hand over the video evidence right now, I'll hook out his Achilles tendon one strand at a time and let him learn what it feels like to crawl!" The wind passed through. His screaming broke apart in the air, mixing with the strained creaking of the flagpole until it sounded almost like music. The live chat went insane. Meanwhile, I laughed until my eyes filled with tears.

Tazaana Gwydion, 24, was raised by her grandmother after her parents had an accident. Her parents had a car accident and have not been found since. But police confirmed they died. Before her parents had an accident, her father dropped his necklace while about to leave the house. She is interested in wearing the necklace left by her parents. On the pendant of the necklace, there is written a spell. She recites the spell, and she goes to a different place, not on the earth anymore, but to another realm. Tazaana is in a realm inhabited by vampires and mages. Since she recited the spell, her life has changed. She meets a man, the man she meets is no ordinary person, and the mystery behind Tazaana’s life will be revealed once she experiences the things she went through.

In the third year of my relationship with Aden, he died in a war between werewolf packs. His beta twin brother, James, brought back the obsidian pendant that Aden had dropped on the battlefield. He told me in a choked voice, “Emily, Aden isn’t coming home.” I fainted on the spot. After waking up, I went mad and tried to go to the battlefield to die with Aden. However, James held me back. Later on, I attempted suicide multiple times, only to be saved by James and his mother, Louise. All the werewolves in Moon Forest Pack said that Aden and I were deeply bonded. It was not until the third month after Aden’s death that I finally discovered the one who died wasn’t him at all.

Nora Ainsley didn’t sign up to play hero. As a rogue-born tracker for hire, she works solo, stays broke, and minds her business. But when a missing pendant leads her into the heart of a conspiracy tied to the murder of the Silver Ash Pack’s Luna, she gets dragged into something way bigger than she ever wanted. Now she’s a suspect, a target, and holding a magical artifact every side wants to kill for. Worse, the only person offering help is Roman Vale—a masked stranger who’s got his own twisted ties to the very pack that wants Nora dead. She didn’t ask for this war, but if she doesn’t fight back, she won’t survive it.

"I’m here for you, always, Leora." That was the promise Theron made before he stole her kiss. But promises can be broken. And in Crestwood, betrayal is deadlier than love. The Moon Pendant marked Leora as the rightful Luna before she could even walk. Hidden in the human world all her life, she is dragged back to claim her throne—only to discover that the crown comes with chains. To unlock her wolf, Leora must choose a mate. Every wolf wants her. Every elder demands it. But her heart keeps pulling toward the one man she cannot have—the warrior sworn to protect her. When her love awakens her long-buried power, enemies close in and Leora realizes the harsh truth. The man she loves most is the one fated to destroy her.

As the news broadcast reported a random serial killing near my residential complex, I knew—I had been reborn once again. In my first life, my husband insisted on going out in the middle of a snowstorm to buy weapons for self-defense. I locked every door and window, waiting at home, anxiety clawing at my chest. I never imagined the killer could pick locks. Before I could even react, a blade plunged into me, and I died on the couch. In my second life, I didn't hesitate. I hid in a concealed storage room, holding my breath. But the door was still pulled open. A man wearing a rabbit mask stared straight at me. "Found you," he said. In my third life, I ran to the police station. I rushed inside and told the officer on duty that the killings weren't random—that the murderer was coming for me. They looked at me like I'd lost my mind. Then my husband arrived in a hurry and took me away. But the moment we reached our front door, a heavy hammer smashed into the back of my head. Through the blinding pain, I forced my eyes open, but I never saw who killed me. Now, staring at the grave expression on the news anchor's face, agony surged through every inch of my body. Rebirth isn't a reset. The damage accumulates—and sooner or later, it will torture me to death. Without hesitation, I walked into the kitchen and set a pot of oil to heat. And I waited… for the moment the lock began to turn.