Thunder Rolls 3rd Verse Novels & Stories

…He caresses my check and I close my eyes and lean close so as to get more of his touch. "Catania, why is your pheromone doing this to me?" He asks calmly and this time around, I open my eyes. "Because… because you don't want to accept the…" my sentence is caught off by the feel of his lips colliding with mine. A thunder of emotions strike within me as he kisses me passionately, like he owns me, loves me. I return the kiss with all my might as I decide to forget everything that is going on and enjoy the moment. Without breaking the kiss, he gently pulls me into his big muscular arms and further intensifies the kiss. His lips are warm and soft. They are partly sighted, allowing my tongue to slip inside. Our bodies are pressed together heatedly as I our lips joined with each other's. I can taste our shared breath and feel the taste of our combined heartbeat. Warmth blossoms in my chest, igniting it as Alpha Nolan leans in close, with his lips brushing tentatively. This is my first kiss ever. The smell of his perfume is dizzying and it causes butterflies to dance in my stomach. My eyes are close and they seem to have gotten stuck. I want to open them, I want to get a better look at Alpha Nolan's dark brown eyes, I want to admire his crazy vampire hairline. I have the feeling this is never going to happen again and that this might even ruin what is left in my life, so I want to open my eyes and bear some witness but I can't, because I am so tired and his mouth is so soft… He cannot ignore the connection even if he wanted to…

“Now take your bastard daughter and get out of my sight! If you ever step foot into this mansion again, you will die!” Elsa Boseman’s thunderous voice sounded all over the room. Her lips quivered as the tears streamed down her cheek freely. “No..mother in-law, please! I’m innocent!” She cried from the floor where she was kneeling before Elsa Boseman. “Leave, you slut! Take this bastard and get out of this place!” She heard Mrs Taiwo’s voice and her tears increased. “Guards! Guards! Take her out!” Dotun's provoking voice sounded all over the room. “No..I’m innocent, please don’t throw me out! Mother in-law!” She cried as she rushed over to Elsa Boseman. “No.. mother, I have nowhere to go!” She cried as she knelt before the two women. She was pulled up by the guards along with her daughter who was still crying uncontrollably. As she struggled with the men, she took a glance at Daren who was sitting dejectedly on the long couch with his head bowed. “My love, I'm innocent! Please don’t let them throw me out! Daren!” She shouted with her full strength but he remained silent and didn’t look in her direction. ** The rumbling of thunder could be heard as the rain continued to pour down mercilessly. Her lips continued to quiver and her body trembled as she wrapped her one year old daughter in her bosom. She thought of everything happening in her life at the moment. She had been accused, betrayed and rejected by the family she had worshiped all through the years. She looked at her daughter who was now sleeping peacefully in her arms and she sighed. “I will make them pay,” she said as flashes of lightning appeared in the sky.

Years after graduation, someone suddenly tags me in the class group chat. "Mr. Warren is gravely ill, Mira. Aren't you going to do anything? You really are heartless!" I only realize what's going on when I click on the fundraising link in the chat. Our high school homeroom teacher, Joseph Warren, has late-stage cancer. Thus, Lyra Fairfield, the class belle, is leading a fundraiser and patient-donor matching process. "I'll donate ten thousand dollars. My husband is the director of Waverly General Hospital, and I've already asked him to arrange a VIP ward for Mr. Warren." Right after I send that message, the group pounces on me. "Mira, you contracted an STD back then and tried to pin it on Lyra. She didn't even hold it against you, and now you're trying to steal her thunder? You're unbelievable!" "I can't believe you're still lying through your teeth during such a serious situation. You never change, do you?" Lyra immediately defuses the tension. "Mira, I don't blame you for what happened in the past, but you really shouldn't impersonate the director's wife. I've already arranged the ward and surgery, and I'm donating another 100 thousand dollars to Mr. Warren!" I'm this close to laughing out of sheer anger. She's the one who scratched her name off the diagnosis report and framed me for having an STD all those years ago. I never even confronted her about it, and now she's playing the victim? Lyra soon posts a photo in the group chat, showing off her husband's car. Yet, when I see the man in the passenger seat, I guffaw. Isn't that my husband's driver? When did he start running a hospital?

I was born broken. My Alpha mother was the one who branded me. She said emotion was a sin. A weakness. Especially for a werewolf. Especially for an Alpha’s heir. The day we were born, she clamped emotion-suppressing collars around our necks. Mine and my twin sister's. The slightest flicker of emotion, and the collar flashed red. My mother would then push the button, injecting me with a diluted "silver solution" to suppress my feelings. But my sister Cassia's collar? Always a calm, steady blue. Even when she shattered Mom's precious moonstone, it just pulsed gently. And me? I’d just whisper, "Mom, the thunder scares me," and my collar would erupt in a violent red. Then came the sting of silver poison burning through my blood.. I used to argue. But Mom always said the same thing. "The data doesn't lie. Pain is a teacher. This is for your own good." After thousands of these injections, I started to believe it, too. That I was born out of control. The night of the alliance's Moon Goddess Festival, Mom was taking my sister to the rooftop party. Something scared me during the day. The collar flashed red, and my mother started the punishment. But this time, the collar malfunctioned. It shot a dose a thousand times stronger into my neck. I collapsed on the carpet, begging, "Mother, the collar... it hurts so much... help me." My collar was flashing a frantic red. My mother just looked down at me, drenched in a cold sweat, and pressed the button for the maximum dose. "You'd lose control like this just for attention? You're a lost cause." She turned, took my sister, and slammed the door. I couldn't help but think, Mom must be right. The collar is red. It doesn't really hurt. I'm just being dramatic, looking for pity again. I'm sorry, Mom. In my next life, I'll be the perfect daughter you always wanted.

When Jeremiah Jenner, an academician from a research lab, has bombs strapped to him by a malicious criminal, I know that I can save his life by cutting the right wire. But my husband, Callum Johnson, keeps pinning my hand down with all his might. He tells me that I should wait for his crush, Shirley Gibson, to arrive so that she can save the day for once. This was what happened in my previous life. Thanks to Shirley's mistakes, the timer's countdown decreased from ten minutes all the way down to ten seconds. I was the one who had to shove her away and cut the triggering wire based on my experience. That was how I saved Jeremiah's life. Shirley, on the other hand, was so frightened that she passed out on the spot. She became the laughingstock of the entire squad, which led to her leaving the squad due to depression. Callum didn't say a single word. Instead, he dispatched me to the border as a spy. On the day my mission was supposed to be wrapped up, Callum got in contact with me via a secretive channel. Then, he leaked my coordinates to my enemies on purpose. "Couldn't you just let Shirley play the hero for once? Since you like showing off that much, then you might as well stay as a heroine forever in this place!" The next thing I knew, I felt a bullet piercing through my chest. My enemies had me surrounded immediately before burning me alive, resulting in my death. As I breathed my last breath, I saw Callum embracing Shirley while watching me being licked hungrily by the flames from a long distance away. There was nothing but satisfaction in his eyes. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the scene where the bombs are set to be removed. Slowly, I put down the pliers in my hand. Fine. I won't steal Shirley's thunder this time. I'd like to see how the golden couple can maintain their bombastic, passionate relationship in a place that's about to be blown apart.

"You think you can play with my feelings, kitty?!" I could feel the intensity of his voice. I stepped back, feeling the wall behind me. "Who said I am playing with your feel~" I was cut off by his strong fist that landed beside my head, making me gasp in horror. "You, sitting on the lap of that bastard! Dakota Weasly, you just dug your boy toy's grave!" his voice boomed like thunder, deafening my ears. "He's not my boy toy, Martin. He's my boyfriend, and I like h~" Again, I was cut off, but not by his fist this time. His kiss ravished my mouth like I was his last meal. Before I could say something, my hands, like they had minds on their own, were slowly wrapping around his head. My tongue slid inside of his mouth while a moan escaped from me, making him deepen our kiss. When we stopped, we both gasped for air. "Do you like him?" he asked, his eyes fixed on mine. "Martin, I..." I suddenly lost my tongue. "I'll count till three. You must answer well, or I'll tell Luke to shoot him now!" "What?!" I asked, shocked. "Martin, what did you do to him?" I pleaded with my eyes, which became watery, but he just sneered. "Worried, huh?!" as he was about to call someone, I grabbed the phone and shouted... . Dakota Weasly was an easy-going, independent fashion designer from New York. She was strong-headed, who never stopped till she got what she wanted. This charming young lady accidentally bumped into the notorious mafia leader, Martin Marcini. The leader of Scared-faced Gang, one of the scariest mafia in Italy. . What could happen when an easy-go-lucky young lady played the heart of the scariest, gorgeous young man in the state?

On the week before Valentine's Day, I want to buy my husband, Grayson Strickland, who works as a university professor, an electronic toothbrush as a gift. That's when I see a review with over ten thousand likes on a particular online store. "I recommend buying from this store! This store's electronic toothbrush is super durable! I've never had to charge this toothbrush for half a year!" Three days later, an additional response is made to that comment. "I'm sorry for misleading everyone. It turns out that my husband has been charging this toothbrush this whole time. It's my fault for being such a doofus! I even pestered him for a long time before I finally found out that he has done a lot for me! "I never have to add toilet rolls to the bathroom. All I thought is that the same toilet roll is extremely thick. The membership that I have on the TV app is often paid for and extended, and yet I thought there was a bug in the app software somehow. Some time ago, the peeling dry skin on my lips miraculously healed. It turns out he was the one who kept applying lip balm onto my lip at night. "He's a university professor, you see. In the past, I often blamed him for not knowing what being romantic was like. But now, I finally realize that those who love you will have a way of showing you how it's done." The rest of the comment section is filled with wailing complaints. They all complain that Valentine's Day isn't even here, and yet they are already sick of the lovey-dovey atmosphere. Amid the Internet users' constant requests, the poster finally uploads the handsome side profile of her husband. Feeling rather envious, I tap on the photo, only for my smile to freeze on my face. That photo actually features Grayson! As I stare at my mother-in-law, who has been paralyzed in bed for the past six years, I recall the fact that Grayson lives on the university campus all around the year. That's when uneasiness begins plaguing me. As expected, when I bring my marriage certificate to the County Clerk’s office and ask about it, the clerk points at the stamp and says, "Your marriage certificate is fake. Mr. Grayson Strickland's spouse is another woman named Callista Whitman." My fingers go slack subconsciously, causing the fake marriage certificate to fall to the floor. A chuckle of despair escapes my lips. Everyone knows that Callista is Grayson's student. She's his most prized student as well as the person who knows him the best. As for me… I'm just a free caretaker whom he has "hired".