What Does The Rinnegan Do

His name is Raive. The one who, 700 years ago, had lost. The necromancer who conquered half the world with an army of the undead, but then was buried alive under a terrible curse: never to die, never to be saved. He was so feared that all necromancy curses were buried with him, so that never again could such a dangerous magician arise. Angelina – a weak historian-necromancer whose only talent was a flawless grasp of the language of the dead. Fate willed it that she find a mysterious gravestone and break the seal holding the one who was never to be released: Raive – the King of the Dead! What will happen to them next? Will the Undead King help this unknown girl or will he use her mysterious blood to regain his own power and speed his way to the throne? What can they both do when passion begins to ruin all their plans, and dark desires call forth the worst poison?

My husband—one of the top elites of Raventon Street, cold and ruthless to his core—keeps a stray orphan girl he rescued from the slums hidden in an apartment. Rowena Fletcher is clean and fragile, like a newborn creature untouched by the world. And somehow, that innocence softens something in Micah Benson—a man who's spent years clawing his way through the brutal wilderness of capital. He thinks this secret game of his goes unnoticed, but I find out anyway. At the Benson family's charity gala, I smash his favorite antique vase in front of everyone. He doesn't even flinch as he simply signals the bodyguards to clean up the mess and then hands me a divorce agreement. "Sign it, Sabrina. The penthouse in Ashbourne City is yours." I burn the divorce agreement—and that's when he finally shows his true colors. He freezes all my accounts and launches a hostile takeover of my gallery. On the night the storm hits, I get a call from the hospital. My sister, Roberta Slater, has been in a car crash—she needs emergency surgery. In the security footage, he stood there, watching coldly. "Sign the papers, or start planning a funeral." I dropped to my knees and slammed my forehead against the floor, blood trailing down my face as I begged, "Micah, please… don't…" A long, flat beep echoed from the other end of the line, slicing through the sound of rain. Then a voice on the line says, "We did everything we could." However, I have gone back in time—to the day I first found out about Rowena. This time, I no longer cry. Instead, I plan my divorce on my own terms. I call Valebrook Bank that same night and begin preparing for a quiet disappearance. But the moment I truly vanish from his world, Micah loses his mind.

My wife, Lindsey Kelsey, suffers from an aversion to intimacy. For ten years of marriage, she pushed me away again and again. Then, on our anniversary, she abandoned me and, in front of the crowd, kissed another man with reckless passion before the two of them walked hand in hand into a luxury hotel. Afterward, Lindsey brazenly declared that a real man should be magnanimous, not petty. Magnanimous? Then I wish them both eternal bliss—may they be bound so tightly they can never break free from one another. Later, I handed Lindsey the divorce papers with a blank expression. I was determined to walk away from her. But Lindsey went mad when she realized she couldn't find me anymore.

I woke up to the morning sun shining dimly into my room, directly into my face. The feeling of a rough hand resting lightly on my stomach, I turn over and my eyes widen with shock. How the hell did my Chief end up in my bed? What did I do last night? I tried my hardest to remember what all went down at the mandatory command picnic… I remember going out to a bar outside of base. I remember dancing, after running into a friend from my previous command, that left a year after I got there, because she got transferred to a new command. I remember her buying me shots, to celebrate our reunion and working together again. But then everything went blank….

After dating for seven years, I proposed a hundred and one times to my boyfriend, Jason Brown. However, he always told me that he was not ready, rejecting my proposals. This continued to my 28th birthday. In his suit pocket, I found a ring box. Thinking he was about to propose to me, I was overjoyed. However, to my horror, I saw him going down on one knee to propose to his assistant, Marcella Hopkins. Right before my eyes, he placed the ring I had yearned for so long on her finger. When one of his buddies asked what he planned to do with me, Jason wrapped his arm around his new love and chuckled. "Dude, I don't think I can bring myself to marry a woman who wants to get married that badly. She's so needy. However, if I do get a second wife, I might consider her. After all, she is hopelessly in love with me." He was sure I would wait for him, and he even placed a bet with his friends that I would crash his wedding. However, on his wedding day, I never showed up. Moments before his wedding ceremony was about to start, he suddenly noticed me, fully dressed up in a wedding gown in a separate banquet hall. Seeing me about to marry someone else, he almost went crazy.

Edward Sterling is playing in his university's freshman basketball tournament when my parents banish me abroad. My biological sister and my fiancée are both on the sidelines, cheering for him. That spotlight should've been mine. The jersey he's wearing, with a star player's autograph on it, was supposed to be my 14th birthday gift. Edward and I have been rivals for most of our lives. It never matters whether I'm right or wrong—the moment he plays the victim, my parents rush to defend him and scold me without hesitation. But I am their biological son! It's not until I die alone and sick in a foreign country that I finally understand one thing. If I ever get a second chance, I'll never again fight Edward for love that was never mine to begin with.

My wife dies in an accident, leaving me and our son, who's just started kindergarten, behind. I barely make it through the funeral. However, when I get home, my in-laws come knocking with my wife's brother in tow. They want to take over my wife's fortune, including an old bungalow my parents left me for me in the city. I finally realize that my wife has changed me so much that her family has never seen me tearing people's throats out.

Cent, short for Maleficent, recently found out that she is the daughter of the great demon Beelzebub when she got a pair of horns on her eighteenth birthday instead of a pair of skating shoes. She finally got her answer why she never once felt that she belonged, turns out, she is not entirely human. When her estranged dad came knocking to take her away from her wretched foster life, Cent grabs the opportunity to be with her only ‘living’ family. But, he is called the great demon for a reason. After disturbing her life, he drops her like a sack of potatoes in front of the gloomy gates of Transylvania Academy. She realized that before her great demon dad can accept her, she still needs to prove herself worthy. Does she have what it takes to carry the privilege as an only child of a great demon? Does she have what it takes to be a monster?

At the party for our first wedding anniversary, I hit the floor—face-first on a red carpet, gasping like a fish out of water. Carlo Pipino, my husband, had his arm draped around Gianna Verde, his childhood flame, sipping champagne and laughing. Gianna knew I was allergic to nuts. So, obviously, she bathed everything in hazelnut dressing. One bite and boom—my throat locked, my lungs lit up, and hives popped like confetti. I reached for my allergy meds—came up with a fistful of melted M&Ms instead. Gianna laughed when she saw my face. "Surprise! Carlo swapped your meds. Seriously, Siena, one nut? Dramatic much?" I slid off my chair, wheezing, while the crowd placed bets on how long my "performance" would last. "Carlo... my meds..." I croaked. "Please. I'm gonna die." He sighed, annoyed. "God, you're so dramatic. Why do women always play dead for attention? You know I love you. Just stop this show already." Right then, my heart shattered faster than my lungs could. I stopped begging. Hit the distress signal. Called my real family.

On the third day after my death, Eliza Sutton received the call to claim my body. She was resting in another man's arms. She said nonchalantly, "He's dead, huh? Just cremate it and call me afterward." My body was fed to the flames and reduced to ashes. When the staff were done, they contacted Eliza again. Irritation flashed in her eyes as she snapped, "I heard you. I'm on my way."