Novel & Cerita Villainess Hourglass

Like why I’d felt a mate-bond between myself and Genevieve, when it was clear she couldn’t feel it herself. Kiara lifted her hand, holding it out for me to inspect. A golden bracelet circled her wrist, set with a small hourglass. Sand trickled from one end to the other. A silent countdown to something big—something important, perhaps. In a flash of golden light the bracelet vanished, morphing into a slender cane. The hourglass was perched on top, a few sizes larger. Enough for me to see the individual granules of sand trickling away. “Three spins of this hourglass and I can manipulate the fate of every being in this room. Do you know the power a single grain possesses?”

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐚𝐥𝐭-𝐆𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐀𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐭 The liquid manifestation of the Heiress did not hold a stable shape. It rippled and tore like dark satin under a heavy wind, her amethyst-tinted visage stretched into jagged, geometric angles before snapping back into the cruel, youthful likeness of Helen Vance.

Every polished surface becomes her ally, every reflection a listening ear, and she wields prophecy like a jewelled dagger pressed to the throat of anyone who doubts her claim. Velarissa, Vampire Princess of Duskmoore — Pale as frost at dawn, with eyes the colour of dark wine spilled across snow, Velarissa radiates an unsettling hush. She rarely speaks above a murmur, yet rooms fall silent the instant she enters. Palace rumours insist she once reduced a rival to dust without baring a single fang—only a soft exhale of power, colder than midnight. Where Cassandra thrives on spectacle, Velarissa rules through dread.

THE AUCTION HOUSE BASEMENT VAULT PT 1 Cassandra’s heels clicked against the floor as she moved through the empty auction house. It was well past midnight and the grand halls were silent, the lights were dimmed. At thirty-four, Cassandra carried herself with the same precision she brought to every auction. Her alabaster skin looked even paler under the lights, her platinum hair pulled into a tight bun that left her long neck exposed. The charcoal silk blouse hugged her full breasts and narrow waist, while the matching pencil skirt clung to the curve of her lower body. Diamonds sparkled at her ears and throat.

Big enough to hold a center island, another vanity, lots of clothes, shoes, accessories, and more. I looked at myself with a deep expression, hardly recognizing the woman staring back. The strapless bodice clings to me like a second skin, its sweetheart neckline sculpting my shape, every inch of black lace and glittering embroidery pulling my waist into an hourglass I’d only dreamed of. Long crimson gloves hug my arms, the silk smooth against my skin, as if daring anyone to touch.

Miles away, bathed in the synthetic glare of a high-rise downtown luxury apartment, the morning light felt artificial and sterile. Victoria Morati stood before a towering, three-sided antique mirror. The smooth silk of her black evening gown whispered against her skin as she adjusted the diamond-encrusted straps over her shoulders. She looked like a predator draped in mourning silk—sleek, dangerous, and utterly unrepentant. Every stroke of her dark eyeliner was calculated; every sweep of her lipstick was a stroke of war paint.

a slow, wide, genuinely crazed smile stretches across my lips. It is an expression I usually keep buried deep inside my mind— a wrong, venomous smile of pure, unadulterated malice as I look at Willow's innocent face. She thinks she is safe. She thinks her subtle poisons and Asher's brute force are going to carry her through this trial. She has no idea that the trap is already set. Unbeknownst to everyone else, Regis Nightshade turns his head slightly. Standing just two feet away, his dark, midnight eyes catch the exact moment my submissive mask falls away, catching the sharp, crazed smile stretching across my face in the dim morning light. I don't care that he sees it. It is time for the cur

I would definitely remember a place as fancy as this. As the man grew closer, the girl on the floor quickly curled herself up more. I stared at her as I studied her reaction, but it was hard to pass off what I was seeing with any other explanation. She was very obviously trying to make herself appear smaller than she was. The kind of reaction you’d have to someone who hurt you. Someone who... trapped you... ...‘Scarlett’. ...... Scarlett... Scarlett... Scarlett... As in... Scarlett from the werewolf book I’d just read?

him, you are his enemy. As long as he sits on that throne, he will always be that paranoid, tyrannical monster. To win... There is only one way. I took a deep breath, my eyes turning colder than a wolf's. "System." [Online. Player Halen, please choose your identity.] I didn't look at the standard options. I used all my points to redeem a forbidden item that no one had ever bought before—[Hourglass of Time Reversal]. And a rusty, worn-out dagger.

Alexander Veylor – POV I laughed before I even spoke. They never learn. I leaned back in my chair with my wine glass in hand, watching the city lights outside my office window. My assistant stood a few steps away, holding a tablet, waiting. “They really thought they could steal from me and walk away,” I said. I took a sip of wine. Mark glanced at his screen. “Sir, Horizon Tech is all over the news right now.” I looked at him. “Read it.”