sakura wall

Zephyr stood with her head bent low and her hands clasped in front of her. His dark aura made cold sweat roll down her spine, and she felt herself trembling. She felt his ethereal dark gray eyes fall upon her, intensifying the urge to scurry away as he closed the distance between them. She tried to move backward, but her back pressed further into the wall, reminding her she had no place to run to. His larger frame towered over her as he placed one hand beside her head. Zephyr had seen many men, and she could confidently say none held a candle to Alpha Damon Alaric. Damon was handsome in every way, and if she didn't know better, she might have mistaken him for the devil. Zephyr shivered when his fingers grasped her chin and tilted it up to meet his dark gaze. "Zephyr…" Alpha Damon trailed off, a sinister smirk playing on his lips. Her heart raced as his thumb gently caressed her lips. "Didn't I tell you you're mine? How dare you let another man touch you?" His voice remained calm, but his eyes spoke volumes. Zephyr's heart skipped a beat when his hands moved to her bottom, gently caressing the soft flesh and stirring sinful desires within her. "Or do you want me to take you to my bed and remind you to whom you belong?" Zephyr Cyrus was the lowest of all kinds; even the Omegas easily trampled her because she was a slave. She had accepted her fate, knowing that denying it would only lead to death. However, everything began to change when the Alpha's shrewd eyes fell on her.

During a competition, my wife's childhood friend switches my climbing chalk out for flour. When I'm about to win the competition, my hands slip, and I fall from a rock climbing wall that's several feet high. I'm covered in blood. My wife doesn't care about my survival, though. She tells the doctor to prioritize her childhood friend, who's feigned a fainting spell from the blood. Later, I discover that my wife condoned her childhood friend in switching out the chalk. Why did she do it? Because she was worried that her childhood friend, who was never good at physical activities, would be sad if I were to win. Yet, when I lose hope in her and ask for a divorce, she cries and tells me I'm the one she loves.

On the one thousand and ninety-fourth day of being Mrs. Harris, I asked James Harris for a divorce. His face showed a hint of confusion, but it quickly shifted to his usual, composed expression. "As you wish," he said, his tone as flat as if we were discussing whether to replace the milk on the breakfast table. He did not even bother to ask why. On the one thousand and ninety-fifth day, I gently saw him and the children off, acting as if nothing had happened, and then completely left the Harris family behind.

Savannah Elise Hart is perfect on paper—polished, untouchable, and desperate to keep it that way. Cassian Rhys Blackwood is chaos in his black leather jacket, with a smirk that could undo her world. When a rumor threatens Savannah’s future and a false accusation jeopardizes Cassian’s freedom, their fake dating deal seems simple—until stolen kisses in the dark and whispered confessions ignite something dangerously real. He pins her against the studio wall, paint smeared on her cheek as his lips hover over hers. “Tell me this doesn’t feel real.” In a game where rules shatter and hearts are on the line, pretending has never been so tempting—or so risky.