kakashi thousand years of death

From Alpha’s daughter to slave. Even the mighty must fall, but Ivy isn’t the type to cower. No, she is the type you never see coming. With Enzo at her side and her tenacious heart, Ivy is thrust into a world that wasn’t meant for her. Enzo worries it’s all too much for Ivy, but there is a storm brewing in Ivy’s heart. One that is fueled by rage and vengeance as they grow closer to their prey.  Ivy will stop at nothing to finish her mission, including seducing the Alpha of the Silvermoon pack. Much to Enzo’s dismay, Ivy enslaves herself to the pack and catches the attention of the Alpha, but he isn’t what he seems and suddenly Ivy is battling on more than one front. One for her heart and one for her vengeance-seeking soul. But what happens when the lines begin to blur and even Enzo can’t pull her out?

At the end of the day, my colleague, Melody Christie, came to find me. She wanted me to cover her night shift. I turned her down because I had commitments after work. That night, she was caught abandoning her shift and she got fired. Melody blamed me for it. Just when I was almost going into labor, she pushed me down the stairs. "Do you know how hard I worked to get this job? If it was not for you, I wouldn't have been fired! If I'm going down, I'm taking you down with me!" I died, and my baby did not survive either. When I opened my eyes once more, I was back to the same day when Melody asked me to cover her shift. Only this time, I knew the truth. Turns out, she had left her shift for a rendezvous with my husband.

[Rebirth, writing, slag abuse, one-on-one, no abuse!] She was the king of mercenaries who made the world's big men talk, holding a piece of ancient jade in her hand, repairing the truth, medical skills... all proficient. Unexpectedly reborn, she turned into an upper - class joke, school people see the evil school slag girl? The king of talented mercenaries, who used to deter the entire mercenary community, said, "Don't make trouble. Waste incompetence? How do you feel about being twisted off by a piece of waste? The last? Come on, let your sister tell you how to write the word "genius!" She doesn't have the talent to do business, financial, managerial half - sister? Well, do you know that the present king of commerce cried and begged her to accept him? Father unknown? As soon as her father's name comes out, the world will shake! A magical ancient doctor, she is the god of heaven in the eyes of countless patients. Sweeping the army, she is no one on the road dare provoke. Beauty coexists with acting. She is the goddess of the circle. A rebirth, a new life, she is still alive, accidentally become a national citizen who no one dares to provoke! Life and death on one hand and fate on the other. The misogynist should play face-to-face, play the rich, play the entertainment circle, and conquer someone by the way. * * * [Little Theater] Old man: It's almost midnight. Are you still busy? Man: No. Then you go out so late? Man: The family is strict. The Lord

Love is hard. It's even harder when you're a plus size girl. It's even harder still when the only person you've ever truly loved just uses you. Being loved when it's convenient destroys you. What makes it the hardest though is when your soul mate is a harbinger of death. Letitia didn't have the most supportive mother growing up and her ex fiance Mark had no problem hurting her left and right. But when Letitia falls for Aiden things get complicated. She's forced to chose between his world and hers.

After being in love with Dylan for seven years, I planned to propose to him at his birthday party. But then I overheard him speaking to his friend in Italian: "You like Lydia? I'll give her to you. I'm tired of her anyway. Sarah is better—she's a dancer, young and sexy." He thought I couldn’t understand, but he didn’t know that I had learned Italian for him. I threw away the ring I had designed for him, tore apart the wedding suit I had sewn and left. Our friends were all speculating how long it would take before I came back. Dylan sneered with disdain, "She’s just an orphan with no family. Where could she go without me? Three days at most." But to his surprise, I never returned and found a new home.

Nisha is a normal nineteen-year-old college girl and lives ordinary. But things started to take a turn for the worse when her classmate, Max Stuart, suicide in a gloomy room Everything shows that he killed himself but she knew is impossible. Most surprising, Max showed up in Nisha’s room as a spirit and she’s the only one who can see him and hear from him. Nisha has no choice but to help him. However, in the process of searching for the truth, their feelings gradually warm up, but the closer to the truth is more close to parting, where will they go eventually?

The boy, George Larson, whom I once saved as a child, when he was struggling with asthma, repaid my kindness by imprisoning me for seven long years. "Luna, you're my everything. I won’t let you out of my sight," he said, his voice filled with obsession. He tied my hands and feet, keeping me bound to the bed like a helpless doll, but I did not love him; I wanted to escape. In his madness, he set fire to my family’s ancestral home. The last traces of the Sachs burned to ashes, disappearing into the wind. He said that since my home was gone, I could just live with him and that it would be my new home. However, because I refused to let him touch me, he found someone else—a girl with a beauty mark under her eye, just like mine. The girl, drunk on his affection, thought I was trying to imitate her by faking the same tear-shaped mark. In a fit of jealousy, she gouged out my eyes. My face was covered with tiny, bleeding holes, blood streaming down my body. When George came home, the girl gleefully stuffed me into a trash bag, proud of her handiwork. “George, look! I caught some trash that broke into the house!” George did not even glance at me. He just loosened his tie, his voice calm and detached. “Just toss it where trash belongs.”

Seven years ago, I ignored my girlfriend's heart-wrenching pleas and ruthlessly severed our relationship. Now, after seven long years, she had risen to the top—and she was back, ready for her wedding. She didn't come home for mere celebration, though. She came for revenge. She obliterated the company my father had spent his entire life building and did not stop until she shattered his leg, forcing him to endure unimaginable pain. It was all so I'd be forced to go to her wedding and beg for forgiveness. But that wasn't enough. She wanted more. She hissed, brandishing a blade, "If Matthew's not here in ten minutes, I'll slice off a finger for every minute he's late." My autistic brother's fingers, the only way he could create art, became a bargaining chip in her sadistic game. Dad's anguished cries filled the air as he pleaded for mercy, but she was not done. She wanted to tear my family apart piece by piece. My mom, fragile and trapped in the haze of Alzheimer's, was next. Her mind, already slipping, crumbled under the relentless torment. She cracked, completely lost to the madness. With tears streaming down his face, Dad said, "My son died the day you left for abroad."

I die in the basement after being burned by acid. My family doesn't recognize me, and they don't call the cops. My mother picks up the scalpel that hasn't been used in years and debones me. My father excitedly mixes my skeleton with concrete and turns me into an exquisite statue. My sister uses the sculpture she's made out of my flesh and portrays herself as a genius sculptor whom everyone admires. Later, the sculpture is shattered, revealing half a broken finger inside. That's when everyone panics.

Nikita's curse wasn't something that could simply be fixed, like a broken chair or a shattered vase. It was an immutable part of her, woven into the very fibres of her being. Accepting this truth had been a necessary act of survival, one she had embraced long ago, and she knew that the sooner others accepted it, the better. Cursed at a tender age due to her father's unkindness, Nikita was fated to bring death to anything she touched. This curse was a punishment meant to ensure that her father’s bloodline ended with her. The gravity of her curse revealed its brutality when, at just six years old, she accidentally killed her own mother with a simple touch. As years went by, her father's harsh reign eventually met its end, and Nikita inherited his throne, becoming the leader of her pack. However, at her father's funeral, destiny intervened in the form of Rykor, the son of a man who had so cruelly cursed her. Intrigued by the dark and cold Nikita, Rykor saw more than just the curse that shadowed her existence.