Three Years Hollow Mga Nobela at Kwento

Ever since my mom gave birth to her second child, everything in the household is tied to drawing lots. Everyone has to draw lots in order to decide whose favorite food will be served for each meal. We have to draw lots to see who among us gets a hug from our parents. Every time, I end up drawing the short end of the stick, so everyone automatically assumes that my younger sister, Anabelle Madden, gets the better lot. She easily reaps my parents' love without having to do anything at all. Whenever I feel like crying because of the injustice, Mom will scold me instantly. "I bought the lottery box because I was worried that you might feel upset about this. I'm doing this just to be fair to both of you. "If you want something, you have to be the one deciding who gets what. Your father and I won't interfere with your decision at all. Since you can't draw the better lot, that just means you have bad luck." Hence, I keep practicing my lot-drawing skills every day, hoping that I can eventually draw the better lot in order to obtain my parents' love. But for ten years, I never get to draw the better lot. Not even once. On my birthday, Anabelle wants to go to the amusement park, so Mom tells us to draw lots once again. I secretly glue two short lots together before giving it to Mom in an attempt to get her to stay with me. Instead, she slaps me and berates me for being a disobedient child who cheats in lot-drawing. Then, she leaves the house with Anabelle. When I fall to the floor, I feel the short sticks piercing through my neck.

I used to be so happy with my husband, Ian Shaw, until his first love got too drunk one day and was taken away by five strange men for an entire night. To protect her reputation, he told everyone that I was the one who was kidnapped that night. Everyone criticized me, calling the baby in my belly a child of shame. I questioned Ian hysterically, but he said nonchalantly, "Ruby isn’t married yet. People will laugh at her if the news spreads." I looked icily at the man I had loved for six years, shock taking over as I realized he had probably never loved me back.

I thought I'd inherited a quiet little farm. What I found was three mysterious men, a land bound by ancient magic, and a destiny I can't escape. From the moment I set foot on Hucow Hollow, nothing feels normal. The air hums with energy. The mist seems alive, whispering secrets and pulling me deeper into its fold. Something inside me changes. Power stirs in my blood, molding me in ways I can't explain—and the Hollow responds to my every heartbeat. Then they appear: Darius, the Herd King—commanding, magnetic, bound to the land by ancient right Vastian, his protector—strong, unyielding, with eyes that see straight through me Khael, his shadow—quiet, watchful, a mystery wrapped in darkness They tell me I was chosen. That the Hollow called me here. That its curse—and its awakening—are somehow tied to me. I didn't ask for this power, or for the bond that grows between us. But the deeper I fall into the Hollow's enchantment, the harder it becomes to deny what pulls us together. The Hollow doesn't just want balance—it wants its queen. And it won't rest until I claim my throne. * Belle’s books contain: reverse harem, bulls and hucow (human / cow play), high heat, milking, breeding, transformation, HEA / HFN, no cheating, primal / pet play, possessive dominant MMCs, submissive FMCs, NO noncon / dubcon The term hucow is a cross between human and cow involving elements related to lactation, breeding, bull and cow-like behavior, and incorporates domination (bull) and submission (cow) dynamics.

After the real son, Asher Vale, was brought back, everything in our house became tied to drawing lots. The chef of the day, who would have to cook a particular person's preferred dishes, had to be decided by drawing lots. Even our parents' kisses and hugs were chosen the same way. I always drew the short stick. The long stick, by default, belonged to Asher. He never had to do anything to receive our parents' love. Whenever I felt it was unfair and wanted to cry, Mom would scold me sharply, "I bought the lot-drawing box because I was afraid you'd feel hurt. I wanted to be fair to both of you. If you want something, decide it yourselves. Your father and I won't interfere. If you can't draw the long stick, you can only blame your bad luck." So I began practicing every day, shaking the box diligently, over and over, in hopes that one day, it would help me earn my parents' love. Unfortunately, for ten years, I never once drew the long stick. Until my birthday. Asher wanted to go to the amusement park, and Mom once again told us to decide by drawing lots. I secretly glued the two short sticks together and handed them to Mom, hoping to keep her with me. She slapped me hard across the face, screaming that I was cheating and disobedient. Then she stormed out of the house with Asher. When I fell to the ground, the short stick stabbed deep into my neck. 'I'm sorry, Mom. Next time, I'll work harder. Next time, I'll definitely draw the long stick.'

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."

"Chels, you're turned on too, aren't you?" During a visit to the haunted house with my best friend, Chelsea Higgins, and her boyfriend, Ivan Benton, Ivan has mistaken me for Chelsea and has embraced me from behind. I can feel his warm palm slowly sliding up the hem of my skirt in the pitch-black darkness. At the same time, his hot breath keeps splaying over my nape and my earlobe. The most embarrassing thing is, I'm starting to get turned on by Ivan's actions for real.

My son is dying. That is the only truth that matters. Not that I am a half-blood with no pack standing. Not that my Crosser's Permit expired six months ago, and every night I fall asleep wondering if tonight is the night they come for us. Not that I mop floors and scrub blood off marble tiles in a hotel that belongs to the most dangerous wolf family in Silver Hollow, a city that does not officially exist, hidden inside Las Vegas like a knife inside a smile. My name is Tara De Leon. I was once a healer good enough to have been recruited by three different pack academies. Now I am invisible. A cleaning woman. A ghost in a uniform. I became invisible on purpose. Because invisible women survive. And survival is all I have left to give my son. Kai is seven years old. He has his father's jaw and my mother's eyes and a laugh that sounds like something the moon herself invented. He also has Fade Sickness, a supernatural disease that is slowly, quietly, methodically dissolving his wolf-soul from the inside out. Without the Blood Resonance Treatment, available only in Silver Hollow, available only to those with pack connections and pack money, he has maybe eight months. Maybe less. I would burn down every pack in this city to buy him one more day. I just never thought I would have to.

While I'm off taking a mascot job at the mall just to make a quick buck, my wife, Marissa Osbourne, is accompanying her first love, Dominic Finch, on a shopping trip to buy him a suit. She even goes as far as to buy him five suits in one go just to show how generous she is. The thing is, those suits cost three months of my salary. When Marissa approaches me, she doesn't recognize me in the mascot suit. Instead, she starts jeering at me. "To think that a grown man is still dressed up as a mascot in a mall just to earn money! What a pathetic loser!" She doesn't know that I've given up on my inheritance of hundreds of millions of dollars' worth of assets. As I watch Marissa leave while tittering, I suddenly realize that the marriage that I've been maintaining for so many years is hollow all along.

Years after Iris betrayed her husband, Triston, the couple remains together only to maintain the appearance of a marriage that has long since crumbled. Living under the same roof as strangers, they navigate a hollow partnership built on old wounds, lost love, and the quiet ache of what once was.

“I don't want to go back there…” I shuffled back on my feet, my leg catching against a root making me stumble and fall while the three men loomed over me, something akin to interest in their eyes. “Be calm. We do not seek to harm you. Let us help you. You are a member of Silver hollow pack, right? We'll get you back in and in return…” One of them paused, crouching down to my level, a smirk on his handsome face. “You can help us princess”