Through My Window Ares

“Where’s that bastard?” My eyes snapped toward the woman storming into the room like a hurricane. “I couldn’t stop her, Mr. Darian!” I waved the guy away and studied the woman whose hair looked like it had gone through war, clearly fighting her way up here. My brothers looked just as entertained as I did confused. “Which bastard?” “My bastard of a husband! Where is Darian Freeman?” My brothers burst out laughing like they’d just witnessed the world’s finest comedy show. I, however, failed to see the joke. She smoothed her wild hair, fixing those hazel eyes on me. “Tell me where he is. I swear I won’t kill him. I just want to shove these papers down his throat,” she said, waving the papers in my face. “There must be a mistake,” I said, still trying to piece this insanity together. “Oh stop feeding me fairy tales! Where is that son of a bitch?” “Are you insane? There’s clearly a mistake here! I am Darian Freeman and I am one hundred percent sure I am not your husband!”

After being sent back in time to relive my life, I stopped standing up for the popular girl who got caught stealing. When she returned to college for classes, I dropped out. When she came to my house looking for me, I moved. I did everything I could to cut off all contact with her. Before I died in my last life, I knew she married me only for my family’s money, yet I still handed her my heart like a fool. The jewelry I gave her was “tacky.” Trying to get close to her was “annoying.” I held on to a cold, empty marriage, thinking that as long as I waited, she would eventually turn back to me. However, for more than twenty years, all I got was her indifference. I didn’t even dare touch the doorknob to her room. Then came the fire, and I risked my life to push her out the window to safety. Right before I died, I saw my wife, completely unharmed, run straight into the arms of our college valedictorian. Crying, she said she was finally free from the marriage that had made her miserable for decades. If life could start over, she said, she hoped to walk hand in hand with the person she truly loved. In that moment, my heart went dead. I let the fire swallow whatever remained of my life. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the bar where the popular girl was working part-time and stealing money from a customer. This time, I chose to call the police.

At my lowest point that year, I took a job at a pet shop, where I was assigned to take care of a "gentle-tempered" silver-white Alaskan Malamute. Every time I went near him, he would lift his head and bury his nose against my chest, breathing in low, rough sounds that felt disturbingly like a grown man holding himself back. Especially when my hand brushed through his beautiful fur, his body would heat up, and his eyes would darken and burn with unmistakable possessiveness. Thinking he was sick, I rushed to find the shop owner. The owner gave me a long, meaningful glance. "He's not sick. But he only acts like this with you. "You need to bathe him, give him a full-body massage, and try giving him a little kiss. Otherwise, he might lose control." I had my doubts about the whole thing, but I didn't really have a choice. I went along with it anyway. Eventually, I told the friend who had gotten me this job everything that had been happening. After she heard me out, she went quiet for a second. Then, she looked at me strangely and said, "Have you ever thought that maybe you're not looking after a dog at all? What if he's actually a werewolf who can take human form, and he's in heat, using pheromones to mess with you because he wants to… You know, sleep with you?"

The old days are long gone. The modern generation has come to the fore. The once-forgotten story will be rewritten in history. I will be a sign in my resurrection. My lips were dripping with a red liquid. My quiet self has awakened After spending a long time in a dark bedroom, I'm going to rekindle our love. I will be her guide through the disaster caused by my daring love. "You are mine," after all. -Ambrogio Collins

In a dark world Aliyah stumbles on her mate in the midst of her troubled world and ex. He is a protector, mysterious and dangerous man. In the midst of unsettledness and wars Don Alessandro finds his mate. With the confusion and secrets it's extremely difficult for everything to work out as planned. Every danger makes them come out stronger or does it? Excerpt from story... As soon as Alessandro left my room, I devised a plan which I have to put into motion tonight. Around 10pm, I snuck out. I tried to sneak into Alessandro’s room. I was almost there when a bodyguard caught me of course. So I went for plan B. “Ooops.” I said dropping my coat and showing my see through nightee. “I will tell him you stared at my nakedness.” I said. “I am sorry.” He said shivering and scurried away. That was easy. Probably not the best idea but it worked. After a few minutes I kind of heard them talking about it. Seriously they should shut up. That guard went to tell his friends about it. How stupid. I thought they don’t talk. “You stared at who?” I heard Alessandro say angrily. Sorry to them no one asked them to gossip. This also means he will be coming soon… I have to find… Bingo! I can probably find something there. He thought keeping me away from his room will keep him safe. As soon as I put my hand in his jacket he called me. “Aliyah you don’t want to do that.” He said. Enemies in the mafia and pack can't wait to tear them to shreds. Danger always looms and in addition secrets cause distrust. Will the secrets break them or make them stronger.

“I-I was in the shower then I got horny while thinking of you and started fingering myself until I came,” I said.  “I think I have become a nymphomaniac because of you, Donovan.” “Do you know what that is?” He chuckled, to which I nodded eagerly. “You are cute. Well, if you must know, buttercup,” He began, stroking my cheek. “I wasn't entirely pulling your legs that day. I want to fuck you, Emily. Ever since I got those pictures, I haven't stopped picturing you taking my cock in various positions.” “Really?” I croaked, arousal evident in my voice as I splayed my hands on his chest. + On their third anniversary, Emily Wright’s boyfriend coldly ends things between them. Heartbroken, she goes home, gets drunk, and takes lewd pictures of herself to feel better. By accident, she sends the pictures to the CEO of her company, Donovan Coleman. On discovering her mistake, she’s appalled but decides to put on a brave face. However, she’s further horrified to discover that Donovan is her ex’s brother, who unknown to her, was intrigued by her at first sight. An heated encounter with Donovan stirs up illicit desire within Emily that both confuses and excites her. A week later at a charity gala, they end up spending the night together. Throwing caution to the wind, Emily continues fooling around with Donovan. What happens when she falls in love with him? Will she end things before they spiral out of control, or will she choose pleasure over letting go?

I was reborn. Opening my eyes on the sofa, the television flickered before me, broadcasting another financial news segment about my husband, Jasper Brolin. The Alpha of the Moonblood pack, a man who had sat at the top of the billionaire list for years, was speaking with his usual cool authority. Broad-shouldered and sharp-featured, he carried an air of cold command that made him untouchable. Whenever he stepped into the public eye, the crowd surged with screams and breathless admiration. My marriage to him was the envy of our entire circle, and every woman wished to step into my shoes. As I watched the screen, memories of my tragic death in my last life came rushing back, sending a quiet ache through my chest. My wolf rumbled low in my chest. "So we're back. Now what?" "Break the bond," I whispered. "I'm leaving him." "He'll never agree to that." "That's why I need her help," I replied, thinking of the woman I had always disliked—Halle. Halle walked into the café, a smug smirk was plastered on her face. Having grown up alongside Jasper, she was regarded as his inner circle, and people never failed to give her the highest courtesy. I slid a mate-bond dissolution document across the table. "I need your help, Halle. And of course, there's something in it for you too." She glanced through the papers, suspicion flashing in her eyes. "Are you leaving him?" she asked. My voice was calm, "Maybe you're the one he really wants by his side." In my last life, I was the perfect Mrs. Brolin, envied by all, yet never the one he held closest. This time, I would take my unborn pup and leave quietly.

Failing my audition, I gave up on the dream of singing and was at the lowest point of my whole existence. At that time an angel came to me, giving me confidence... After three months, returning to normality, I started getting ahead in my life, leaving everything of my past behind. Never in my senses did I expect that my job will be to assist the person who saved me. Wow… Seems like an angelic romance book right? No, nothing is like the way you see it. The angel I had expected to be good was a lion in a sheep's form. He was the worst person I could see in my entire life. ************* The first time I met him, he was the light to my darkness. But the second time, he was the darkness himself? What the hell?

My husband, Joaquin Landon, is a renowned wax sculptor. He hangs up on me when I call him to save my life so he can focus on the wax sculpture his cousin wants. Amphetamine is injected into my system, so my mind is clear as I watch my nails get removed one by one. Every inch of my skin is covered in burning hot wax. My hair and lashes are plucked off, and my organs are ground. Steel pipes are inserted into my legs, and I'm turned into a wax sculpture. Joaquin sees me during an exhibition. His colleague tells him that the wax sculpture he sees looks eerily like me, but he merely looks disgusted. "All she does is cause trouble and act unreasonably. She's better off dead." What he doesn't know is that I already am. Joaquin doesn't recognize that I'm the wax sculpture before him.

[MATURE CONTENT] Warning: Skip of you are not a fan of mature romance. Faced with a choice between blaming my stepfather Jason or stepbrother Ethan for the life growing inside me, I felt the weight of Jason's ominous threats—stay silent or risk my mom's life. “Chelsea,who is responsible for this pregnancy?” my Mom asked. I stood there, tears welling in my eyes, torn between the truth and the suffocating weight of shame. "Mom, I'm really sorry," I whispered, my voice cracking, as tears streamed down my cheeks. Unable to endure the guilt, I ran away from home, leaving my mother to search for me, only to tragically meet with an accident in her pursuit. HAPPY READING