We're New At This Manga

To seize more territory, the ancestors of the Black Moon Pack desecrated the Moon Goddess's altar. For their crime, a deadly curse was woven into their bloodline: no male wolf of their pack lives past the full moon of his thirtieth year. The only cure is to mark a she-wolf with the blood of the Moon Goddess, using her song to suppress the rage that boils in their blood. In my last life, I was that cure. I was married to their Alpha, Corbin. He marked me before the entire pack, binding us as mates. But once the threat of death was gone, he had me thrown into an asylum. "I never believed in that Moon Goddess blood crap. If the pack hadn't forced me to marry you, Faye never would have run off and married that Beta from the neighboring pack. Now she's broken mate bond, and I'm going to make her my Luna, no matter what. As for you, go to hell." Then he shattered our bond, whispered to the guards, and walked away. I was locked in a silver cage, tortured day after day with injections of silver poison. On the day of Corbin and Faye's mating ceremony, the guards gave me a fatal dose. A fiery agony tore through me. My body convulsed, and then… endless darkness. When I opened my eyes again, I was back. Back at my own marking ceremony. This time, I'm going to watch. And I'm going to see if Corbin can survive his thirtieth birthday without my blood.

Felicia Lawson thought college would be her escape but nothing prepared her for Ian, her sister’s husband or for Jake, the charming upperclassman who made her believe in something real again. While Felicia battles guilt and longing, her roommate Zara hides secrets darker than love, a mafia lineage that’s about to pull her into a marriage with a dangerous don. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “You’re going to marry me, little sunflower.” Zara’s eyes snap open, the water sloshes as she jerks against my grip, but the chain on her ankle rattles like a laugh. She can’t go far. She can’t go anywhere. “Fuck you,” she spits, voice raw from screaming at the ceiling all night. “I’d rather die.” I smile, It’s small but polite, the kind I used to give people who betrayed me right before I buried them in the ground. “That can be arranged but first..” I curl my fingers inside her, “ you’re going to come on my hand, then you’re going to say yes.”

Elise Thatcher took care of Kayden Anderson, a rich Billionaire who was in coma for three years. To make things easy for Elise to take care of Kayden, his grandma let them marry. Elise endured the harsh treatment from her in-laws for the sake of love, thinking she could melt his frozen heart. She hid her identity and healed Kayden until he could walk again. But when he recovered, he demanded a divorce coldly, bringing home his first love. Elise had enough. She forced him to sign the divorce papers and returned to claim her throne, becoming the most sought after Queen in the business world. Elise flung the papers at Kayden's face. Kayden glared at her in surprised. The people around them gasped in shock. How could Elise do this to Kayden, a multibillionaire and her husband?! "I've signed it. Don't worry. Jessie doesn't need to leave. I'll leave," Elise mocked as she walked pass them. However, Kayden grabbed ahold of her arm and pulled her back, his grip bruising and punishing. "Where do you think you're going? Kneel and apologize to Jessie!" "Apologize to her? For what?" Elise blinked her eyes innocently. She fought back a wince. Kayden was increasing his grip on her arm as if he wanted to break it. "For scaring her. You should treat her with respect," Elise burst out laughing, catching everyone off guard. Her heart felt like it was hit by a sledgehammer over and over again. "You want me, your legal wife to apologize to your mistress? Kayden, do you know what you're saying?"

After a full week of night shifts, I make a fatal mistake—injecting my son, Ricky Lambert, with phenobarbital, mistaking it for an antibiotic. The injection stops his breathing instantly, and the hospital soon declares him brain-dead. My husband, Terence Lambert, completely falls apart when he hears the news. The only thing that calms him is holding his nephew, Ryan Lambert, who looks so much like Ricky. So, I give up my transfer to Harborstone to Wendy Larson, my brother-in-law's wife. I even agree to adopt her son. Because of that mistake, I work hard and endure Terence's coldness day after day without a word of complaint. Ten years later, when Wendy returns home a success, that's when I accidentally overhear her speaking with Terence. "Back then, to help me get residency at Harborstone, you swapped the medicine and killed your own son. Do you really not regret it?" Terence sneers. "Of course not. I promised I'd help you rise above the rest. And I know Rosalie too well. If she knows there is a chance to go back to Harborstone, she'll fight you for it to the bitter end. "I have to use Ricky's death to trap her for good. It also gives me the perfect excuse to make her raise our son, so you can focus on your career without any burden." I can't believe what I'm hearing. I run out the door and accidentally fall into a raging river. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the very day the hospital declares Ricky dead.

THIS TIME SERIES : BOOK 1 It was then she knew a bullet pierced her heart. When she looked, it was Francis; the one who killed her was the man of her dreams. Kianna, who came back to time for some reason, decided to never give her love to anyone this time. Especially him-- but fate seems to be playing her life. Why did he suddenly give motives to Kianna? Will she ever forget him and give him what he deserves?

Dating a soon-to-be-a NFL player and an Alpha billionaire that every girl on campus would drop their panties for sounds like a dream come true, right? But I can assure you it's not! Alpha Weston told me he would never date a girl who wasn't fit the first time we met. He also said I must be a virgin since no man would want to stick it in me. Yet, despite this, we end up fake-dating each other. The reason? We both have something to gain from it...now we just have to survive this game of hearts we are playing.

At the celebration where Lorenzo Alvarez is crowned the new mafia boss, his men arrange a few performances. A dancer in a backless top and short skirt twists around the pole under the lights. "Don't look," he murmurs, covering my eyes with his hand. "This kind of cheap entertainment isn't worthy of you." His men jump in immediately. "Lorenzo still spoils Ms. Valenti after all these years. That kind of devotion is rare. We're so jealous." "A man as loyal and single-minded as Lorenzo is hard to find." I rest a hand on my belly, planning to tell him tonight that I am pregnant. But when I return from the restroom, I see the same man who had just held me in his arms leaning back in his chair while the dancer straddles his lap. Lorenzo slips his business card and a thick fold of cash into the waistband of her skirt. He laughs, relaxed and unbothered. "Isabella is wonderful, sure, but life needs a little passion. This ragazza is just something new. A bit of fun. "Keep your mouths shut. Don't go running to Isabella and upset her. Otherwise, you'll have a problem." Cold rushes through me. I do not approach or confront Lorenzo. I simply take out my phone and answer the email I have been avoiding for days. "I agree to participate in the confidential experiment."

My roommate won first prize in the national lottery, a full 100 million dollars. She quit her job on the spot, blocked her boss, and said to me, "Amanda, from now on, we'll live in Luxuria Heights, eating the best food and living it up." We went on shopping sprees at Hermès and treated Michelin restaurants like our daily canteen. On moving day, she told me to go ahead to the top-floor luxury apartment and wait for her. She said she needed to pick up a package. Excited, I entered the password she had given me. "Beep. Incorrect password." I was just about to try again. Then, the door opened. The person who came out was not my roommate but a stranger in a suit. He looked at me and frowned. "Who are you? Why do you have the password to my home?" I was stunned. "This is Lydia Zaydn's apartment. Who are you?" The man's expression turned strange. "Lydia Zaydn? I've lived here for five years. I've never heard of that name."

At the company's annual banquet, my wife, Amelia Sanford, publicly announces that she is gifting her assistant, Zayden Craig, a private jet worth 20 million dollars. Zayden wraps his arm around her waist gleefully. "Thank you, Ms. Sanford. I will definitely repay your kindness." I do not argue or make a scene. I simply turn and leave. But Amelia comes after me to give me a scolding. "Why are you jealous? What is wrong with me giving my top assistant a plane? You are incapable of doing anything right, and you still have the nerve to make a fuss?" I smile bitterly and don't bother to explain. I am the one doing all the work, but all the credit goes to Zayden while she pretends not to see it. It is time to walk away from this rotten relationship.

After the evening study session, I was just about to return to the dorm when my first boyfriend, the school's valedictorian and undisputed top student, suddenly tore across the courtyard toward me. Before I could react, he grabbed my wrist and, in full view of a crowd of stunned students, dragged me into a frantic run toward the front gates. I exclaimed, "Julian, have you lost your mind? Graduation's six months away. Are you really trying to run off with me now?" I struggled the whole way, twisting and pulling against him, but his grip never loosened. "Autumn, don't ask any questions. Just come with me. Hurry!" he said, his voice trembling with panic. We fled the school, jumped into a taxi in the middle of the night, and rushed to another city, where we checked into a rundown budget motel. Arms folded and brow furrowed, I glared at him. "So you hauled me out of school like a lunatic just to hole up in a cheap motel?" His cheeks turned bright red. He flailed his hands in frantic denial, then thrust a phone into my hands. I barely had time to unlock the phone and start dialing my parents before a breaking news alert flashed across the screen. My eyes locked on the screen, and I went rigid with shock. The headline reported, 'Mass Death at Blackwood High: All 5,000 students and faculty found dead last night after experiencing catastrophic bleeding. Only two students who skipped the study session survived.' I looked up at Julian in horror. He was staring at the screen too, his face white as paper, cold sweat running down his forehead. "You knew, didn't you?" I asked. "What the hell is going on?"