Novel & Cerita X's And O's They Haunt Me Lyrics

My boyfriend, Victor Pearson, was ranked number one in the world in horror games. Meanwhile, I was secretly working part-time as a monster NPC inside one of those dungeons. Every dungeon he cleared was SSS rank, whereas the one I worked in was the beginner level. We were never supposed to run into each other… until he nearly wiped out all the monsters in an SSS dungeon. The system pulled me in at the last second as emergency backup. When I tried to scare players with my awful acting, the live chat tore me apart. [Hahaha, since when did the monsters in this dungeon get so cowardly? She’s supposed to scare us, but we actually scared her instead.] [This is next-level dumb. Getting lost in a dungeon is embarrassing. Is this monster here for comic relief?] [Poor thing. She'd better hide. Anyone else might let her go, but if she runs into Big V, she's dead before she knows it.] [Come on. Big V only hunts the nastiest bosses. He wouldn’t even bother with trash like that. She would probably scare herself to death first.] I did everything I could to avoid Victor, to keep him from realizing I was the monster working there. But somehow, I stumbled right into him anyway. The chat exploded, waiting for my instant death. After all, he was a legend on the leaderboards, a god among players. But instead of killing me, he bent down and gently pinched my cheek. "Hey, babe. How many players do you wanna take out? I'll help you." The people in the chat lost their minds. [What the hell?!]

"Velda Griffin is suspected to have allied with the rogues to harm Sienna Armstrong, the Luna-to-be. Today, she shall be sentenced to a memory trial." The huge memory crystal glints coldly on the tribunal. My ex-fiance, Alpha Lorcan Cillian of the Moonshadow pack, maintains an arrogant expression. There's nothing but disgust in his eyes. "All of the vile things that you've done shall be reflected on the memory crystal. Let the entire pack witness your true colors, you filthy bitch!" Sienna reclines against Lorcan's body, a smug smile etched on her face. She thinks my reputation will be completely tarnished. Although my limbs are bound with silver chains, a faint, relieved smile has appeared on my pale face. "Are you sure you want to see my memories, Lorcan? Once you start… there's no turning back."

As my due date approaches, my husband's precious mistress falls into the water at a banquet. After being rescued, she immediately accuses me of pushing her. To "avenge" her, he throws me into a modified stainless steel water tank. I beg him, pleading for the sake of our unborn children. But he only sneers. "Don't try to use the babies to guilt me! You've still got a week before you're due. I know exactly how vicious you are—any child of yours would be just as rotten. Stay in there and reflect on your behavior. I'll let you out when you finally admit you're wrong!" Five days later, my husband returns home from a night out with his mistress, calling for me to come downstairs and serve them, as always. He doesn't know that my babies and I have already rotted beyond recognition.

“I, Riccardo Saviano, future Alpha of the Grey Shadow Moon Pack, reject you, Artemisia Guerrieri, Daughter of Alpha Franco of the Blood Moon Pack, as my mate and future Luna.” One single sentence. One stupid single sentence was all it took to disintegrate my life. And the day of my birthday, on which this sentence was audaciously uttered to me, I lost the love of my life, my future mate, and my wolf, all at once. As I’m still assembling the pieces of my shattered heart years later, there they come. Like lightning out of a crystal blue sky. My Mates. But wait… If I am mated to triplets, how come I’m about to be mated to 5 gorgeous men? *** TW: explicit and foul language; spicy content; explicit sex scenes *** Book 1 : When They Touch Me - Completed Book 2 : Their Burning Touch on my Skin (Sequel) - Ongoing

My name is Lena, and until last week, my biggest worry was the late return fees at the library where I work. I was ordinary, invisible, and I liked it that way. Then a pack of rogue werewolves attacked me in a dark alley, and two monsters saved my life—or so I thought. The first was Caspian, a vampire prince carved from ice and centuries of solitude. His gaze held no warmth, yet when he looked at me, something ancient and hungry flickered in his eyes. The second was Kael, the Alpha of the Northern pack, all burning muscles and wild possessiveness. He took one sniff of my skin and declared me his “mate” without a second thought. Now I’m caught between a cold, opulent castle and a warm, chaotic pack territory. Caspian’s touch sends shivers down my spine, while Kael’s fierce protection makes me feel safe for the first time in years. They are sworn enemies, bound by a blood feud older than any city, yet both refuse to let me go. But the real danger isn’t their rivalry. Strange things are happening to my body—I can hear thoughts, heal faster, and the full moon sings to my blood. I’m not just a human caught between two worlds. I am the last of the Hybrid Blood, a forgotten lineage that could either unite the species or destroy them all. And the one who controls me, controls the night.

lunch went by pretty quickly, and we were back to classes soon enough. I'd like to forget to get a book out of my locker, so I went to go quickly and went to get it. I was leaning against the locker next to mine as I quickly scanned my schedule on my locker door. When warm air fanned the side of my face. "Move" being the excellent human being I am, I jumped out of fright, flinging the heavy calculus textbook in my hands backward. I hear a grunt and turn to find the person hunched over as they hold part of their face "Oh God! I'm so sorry!" I panicked. and then he looked up. the first thing I noticed was his short, dark hair. it looked so smooth, and 1 almost reached out to play with it. My eyes trailed down to his strong jaw line, down to his broad shoulders. I didn't even realize that I was biting my lip as I further inspected the Adonis before me. His arm flexed, bringing my attention to the amber eye he was now covering It was him. Six. He is the most popular and dangerous guy in school. And I'd managed to injure him with my calculus textbook.

I'm diagnosed with a rare, incurable disease. A wonder drug that is being auctioned off is my last chance at survival. However, upon winning the bid for the said drug, my parents hand it to my older cousin, Annie Harper, who is suffering from infertility instead. This time, I will not make a fuss. I will even purchase a variety of supplements for Annie. My fiance tells me that Annie deserves to be married off splendidly. He wants to give his wedding gifts, which were originally meant for me, to her instead. I consent willingly. On top of that, I transfer both the house and the car he purchased for me to Annie. My parents have relief and delight written on their faces. "You've finally grown up and understood that Annie needs this medication more than you do because she's getting married." My dad says, "Once I've attended the medical symposium for rare diseases and completed the dissection of a patient's cadaver, I will be able to develop a cure for you." Nonetheless, seven days later, I have become the cadaver meant to be cut open by my father. My primary physician calls my father out in public at the symposium, pointing him out as an unethical doctor who gave my life-saving medication to Annie. My parents and boyfriend are criticized by the audience for being murderers. Yet, they firmly believe that this is how I'm getting back at them. They intend to reveal my memories to the public so that everyone learns that I deserved to die.

After the plane crash, my body was never recovered. My soul drifted back to the home I hadn't stepped foot in for five years. They didn't know I was dead. They were still waiting for me to come home for Christmas. When my mom got the call from the airline, she froze for a long time, completely at a loss, before breaking down in tears. I followed them as they went to the memorial crash site. That was when I noticed something strange—I could see their levels of regret hovering above their heads. My brother's regret level read: 40%. My father's showed: 60%. Even my sister-in-law had 30% over her head. But my mother's regret level? It flashed a cold, unchanging 0%.

For my birthday, my husband, Don Damien, gave me his dead wife’s pearls. I wore them to the dinner party. My enraged stepson, Leo, doused me in red wine. I became the laughingstock of the party. “You whore,” he hissed. “You think wearing my mother’s jewelry makes you her?” He stared at me, his eyes cold as ice. Then he screamed. "Get out of my house." But his mother died when he was a baby. I raised him. Someone had whispered poison in his ear. They told him I was the one who killed his mother. Now he thinks I'm a scheming bitch who tricked his father. And his father? My husband? He never saw me. He only saw Krista’s ghost. My heart didn't break. It shattered. They didn't love me. They didn't even care. So I walked. Then why, after I was finally gone, did they come crawling back, begging me to return?

My brother Christopher owned a boutique on Fifth Avenue. I'd gone in, picked out a few pieces, grabbed a silk scarf on the way, and was heading for the door. The clerk behind the register stopped me. "Ma'am, we'll need you to settle this now." I looked up. Her name tag said Yvonne. Unfamiliar face. Probably new. I didn't think much of it. "Just put it on the owner's account," I said politely. "He knows who I am." She gave a little snort through her nose, eyes raking from my hair down to my shoes. "We don't run accounts here. You might have the wrong store." She pushed an itemized bill across the counter. Four hundred thousand dollars. I scanned the line items. Personal Style Consultation. Premium Fitting Service. VIP Client Private Service. Every single charge cost more than the clothes themselves. I let out a short laugh. "I'm a Whitfield. Christopher's my brother. Whatever this is, he can deal with it at home." Her smile got uglier. "Anyone can claim to be a Whitfield, sweetheart. Are you trying to skip out on the bill, or are you just trying to embarrass yourself?" I didn't bother arguing. I pulled out my phone and texted Christopher: [Fire the clerk named Yvonne in the next ten minutes, or I pull every dollar I have in this store.]