Novel & Cerita When Was Dumbledore Replaced

For seven years in a row, the Moon Goddess chose me to serve as the Saintess of the Silver Moon Pack. And every year, my mate-to-be, Alpha Kael Ashborne, handed the title to my adopted sister, Rosalie. "Rosalie is an Omega. She needs the position if she is ever going to earn the pack's respect." "I promise, Elara. Next year, the title will be yours." My mother baked Rosalie a cake to celebrate and dressed her in a one-of-a-kind gown sewn with moonstones. My father watched me as though he expected trouble, then let out a weary sigh. "Elara, could you try being generous for once and stop making a scene?" A bitter smile tugged at my lips. They had no idea why I had fought so hard for the Saintess title for seven years. I had Wolf Soul Decay Syndrome, and only the Silver Spring water reserved for the Saintess could save me. And now, I had only one month left to live. I no longer cried or argued. I simply nodded and agreed to everything they asked. They thought I had finally grown up. They thought I had learned to put Rosalie first. What they did not know was that I would soon be gone for good.

I was the top engineer at the National Deep-Sea Research Center, and the only person in the world with experience in deep-sea rescue. When my sister’s submarine malfunctioned and was stranded ten thousand meters below the surface, I hung up on her distress call. Then I calmly walked into a police station and turned myself in for leaking classified research. A few minutes later, my father called. His voice was frantic and furious. “Your sister is missing. Where the hell are you? I’m ordering you to get to the site immediately and save her, or you won’t see a cent of the family inheritance!” I calmly pulled the blanket over my head and said into the phone, “I don’t have time, and you’re interrupting my sleep.”

I know that I don't have much time left after getting poisoned by wolfsbane. I don't want to have any regrets, so I travel to the Sacred Crystal Lake, a place I have always wanted to visit. I don't tell anyone that I plan to end my life there. I didn't expect to run into my ex-mate there. We haven't seen each other in ten years. He has become the Alpha that he has always wanted to be, and he's wearing a ring that has another she-wolf's name engraved on it. As for me, I've already thrown away our token of love and erased him from my heart. We're exchanging pleasantries when he suddenly asks, "Do you still hate me, Giselle?" I shake my head. My life is about to end, after all. I don't need to hold on to anything anymore. In the last moments of my life, I just want to see the sea of irises that the Moon Goddess has blessed.

Arianna Reynolds, second year med school student of King's University attracts the hottest player to ever exsist in the city of London, Damon King, who practices his internal training for cardiology. She was betwichingly gorgeous, and alluringly innocent. A perfect angel with good grades and a little devil who loves chaos. Damon King, the most arrogant badboy and the most cruel heartbreaker. His world toppled when she entered all in her glory as his junior. She excited him, and challenged him when she acted blind to his charms. His excitement turned to anger when she punched him. He was evrything she hated in a guy. Nonetheless, she found him slowly changing for her. Her brown orbs always seemed to tempt his heart with whirlpool of exotic emotions and he was sucked into it when ever she locked his gaze with him. ------------- "You are mine Ria," he yelled slamming her onto the nearby locker. "No," she deadpanned with annoyance. "I love you," he confessed nearning her petite figure, invading her personal space. Her breath clogged for a second as she was stunned with his confession. Her eyes hardened again when she said," No, you wanna play with me." Pushing him back lightly she looked away. "I need you Ria, trust me. It's no sick game of mine. I am had over heels for you. Please, just give me a chance," he begged her with moist eyes, closing the distance again. Her stance grew guarded as the cruel heart breaker was confessing with vehement emotions stirring in his eyes. "Prove that your intentions are true," she said pushing him back from her personal space. Leaving him drown in her thoughts, she walked away from him. "You are mine Ria. I will prove myself worthy of your love. You belong only to me," he promised to himself watching her retreating figure.

The first of a twin is always created to protect and guide the second, but no one said anything about them giving up their identity to fulfill the destiny of their younger sibling. London Elrod had no ambition in life, unlike her sister, who had her head in the cloud. One incident and a thing of joy becomes a river of sorrow, and London takes on the identity of her sister. She now has to answer a name that wasn't hers and carry a cross she knew nothing about. There's a light at the end of the tunnel, but would she be able to survive till she gets there?

“You were only ever a replacement for her.” Those words destroyed Serena Cole’s marriage long before the divorce papers ever arrive. When Serena agrees to marry billionaire Damian Cole, she knows she can never compete with the memory of the woman he truly loved. Still, Serena accepted the cold marriage because her family needed saving, and because somewhere along the way, she began falling in love with her husband. Their unexpected pregnancy changes everything. For a brief moment, Serena believes they finally have a chance at becoming a real family. Until Damian’s first love returns. Old feelings rise and doubts grow. The man Serena trusted slowly becomes cruel enough to break her completely. Abandoned during the darkest moment of her life, Serena leaves the marriage believing she lost both her husband and her baby forever. But years later, Damian comes face to face with a little boy who looks exactly like him. Now the woman who once chased after his love has stopped looking back and Damian realizes too late that he destroyed the only family he truly wanted.

Joseph Larkin, my husband, who has been missing for seven years, suddenly comes back. Not only does he bring another woman back, but he is also asking me for a divorce. Joseph says, "Mabel risked her life to save me. That's why I have to marry her to repay her. If you know what's good for you, you'll tell everyone we're already divorced." Looking at his haughty expression, I calmly say, "But I've already married someone else." Joseph laughs disdainfully. "Who are you trying to fool? Everyone knows you only have eyes for me."

Restaurateur and self-exiled heir Lucien Lenault's first look at the breathtaking young chef trainee for his trendy Chicago restaurant is a shock. She’s Elise Martin, daughter of a wealthy French fashion designer. She’s also the holder of a secret that could explode his carefully laid plans. Notorious for her flagrant exhibitionism, and for flouting the respectable façade of her aristocratic background, the coquine’s wild streak shocked most people. Not Lucien. He was tempted by it. It was a deliriously punishable offense as far as Lucien was concerned. But taking on Elise is more than a game. She’s a catastrophe waiting to happen, an inferno that’s burned many a lover. Lucien isn’t most men, however, and he won’t allow her to manipulate him. In order to control the defiant beauty—in order to see her submit—he’s going to have to willingly walk in the flames…

Three days before my blood oath ceremony, someone planted a silver crucifix in the bridal shop and set it ablaze while I was inside trying on my ceremonial gown. My fiancé — Vampire Lord Damien — had the arsonist thrown into the silver prison, sentencing them to the harshest punishment our laws allowed. I lay in the healing chamber, my body covered in severe burns, refusing to wake fully as the reality of my disfigurement sank in. In my semi-conscious state, I heard Damien speaking with the coven's apothecary. "My Lord, we can still heal her completely with the ancient blood rites. If we wait any longer, Serena will bear these scars for life! You just want Miss Vivienne to be your Consort at the blood oath ceremony. This is cruel beyond measure!" "Let her keep the scars. I'll provide for her for the rest of her life, but if she's healed, she'll definitely cause trouble at the ceremony." "I promised Vivienne that her child would be welcomed into the coven with full honors. Only when Serena is completely disfigured will she be grateful enough to raise Vivienne's child as her own. The scars are necessary - at least this way, she won't dare mistreat the boy." In the corner of the room, where no one was watching, a tear slid down my burned cheek. So this was the truth. The blood oath ceremony I'd dreamed of was nothing but a lie. The blood bond I longed for would be my death sentence. If that's how it had to be, I would give him what he wanted.

I had been married to Derek for six years, and we had a three-year-old son. He was poor, earning only $2,000 a month, but I had no complaints; I took care of everything at home for him. After getting dinner on the table for the whole family, I finally had a minute to check my phone. A video popped up on my feed: a twenty-two-year-old girl from a rural area whose hands, roughened by years of hard labor, looked like they belonged to a sixty-two-year-old woman. I looked down at my own hands, just as worn and scarred, and stared at them blankly before tapping into the comments. I expected people to feel bad for her. However, to my surprise, the comments section was flooded with a single sentiment: "Why would anyone marry a penniless loser?" One of the top-liked comments came from a couple; in their photo, they were pictured holding hands—fingers tightly intertwined—with the girl sporting a massive diamond ring. The accompanying caption read: "A man who truly loves you would never bear to let you suffer." I felt a pang of envy. Given the choice, who wouldn't want a glamorous life? As I was about to close the app, I accidentally tapped on the couple's photo, enlarging it. In the background, previously too blurry to make out, was a face I recognized. It looked exactly like my husband, Derek Sterling. I froze, and almost against my will, I tapped into the account's profile. Post after post of lavish photos of them together flooded my screen. And then I saw him clearly. The scar above his brow, the one he got when a shelf fell on him while protecting me, was still plainly visible. It was my husband. It was Derek.