Tragédie

The operation had just gone dark when the chatter started in the comms. “Easy, Zane. Don’t burn through another mattress.” A low laugh came through the headset. Relaxed. Careless. “I’ve been deployed for six months. I needed the release. And don’t let my wife hear that.” More laughter. “Right. Take care of the little mistress first, then call home and play devoted husband?” My phone rang. His voice when I answered was warm. Intimate. Soft in a way it never was on the field. He said he missed me. Said he counted the days until he could come home. I watched the live drone feed while he said it. What he didn’t know was that three months ago, I had quietly transferred into the family’s Strategic Intelligence division. Every operation his crew ran, I was the one behind the monitors—tracking shipments, rerouting safehouses, intercepting rival signals, listening to every word spoken over secured lines. The first night he slept with her, I logged the timestamp. 00:43 hours. When the call ended, I dialed another number—encrypted, family internal. “I’ll accept your offer,” I said calmly. “After this job, I’m stepping away.” The voice on the other end was steady. Controlled. Powerful. “You’ll leave after the Palermo Capture,” he replied. “I’ll personally see to your relocation.” A pause. “Three days.”

When the news of my death on the battlefield, pinned to the pack's watchtower by silver arrows, reached my pack, my Alpha mate, Killian, simply laughed. He thought I was just jealous he was going to claim the Rogue, that I was faking my own death just to get his attention. "I was just trying to bring Valerie into the pack, and this is how she threatens me? With her own death?" "I left her with my most elite warriors. How could she possibly be dead!" "Tell her to get back here. I will claim Valerie, but after that, the title of Luna is still hers." Seven days later, he appeared before my family's home, carrying the ceremonial Luna circlet. He saw me in my white ceremonial dress, resting quietly beneath the white birch tree in the garden, and he breathed a sigh of relief. "I knew it. You were just giving me the silent treatment again." But in the next second, a pack elder's voice thundered: "Prepare the funeral pyre. Let us pay our final respects to our fallen warrior, Sloane!"

Vous trouvez 2020 compliqué ? Essayez de vivre avec un démon à l'intérieur de votre corps dans un monde où ils sont nos plus grands ennemis. Afin de trouver ma place dans ce monde, j'ai décidé de rejoindre la garde en espérant fuir ma famille et peut-être en savoir plus sur l'origine de ma naissance. Ma vie n'a jamais été facile mais je n'avais vraiment pas besoin d'un crétin égocentrique de se mêler à l'équation.

It had been ten years, and Ethan—my mate—and I still didn’t have a pup. One day, he suggested we adopt one from the Werewolf Orphan Charity Agency. “My mate,” he said gently, “pregnancy is too hard for you. You’d have to go through so many checkups and herbs. Your wolf shouldn’t have to suffer like that.” When others heard this, they all said Ethan loved me deeply—that he couldn’t bear to see me in pain. But I saw the truth with my own eyes. He took an infant pup from another she-wolf. “Luckily, Mia isn’t pregnant,” he said. “That way, the excuse of adopting an infant works—and the pup can have a legitimate status in my clan.” I knew that she-wolf well. The same one Ethan used to call a “stupid omega.” Swallowing the bitterness in my heart, I called my mentor at the Werewolf Research Academy. “I want to devote myself to herb research,” I said calmly. Three days from now, during the pup’s first New Moon blessing, I’ll fake my death in a fire. No one will be able to stop me.

Begitu mulai makan, suamiku langsung tidak dapat mengendalikan mulutnya. Pengalaman tragisku saat masih sekolah pun menjadi “obrolan” dia dan teman-temannya. “Dulu, dia ditelanjangi di kamar mandi. Habis itu, dia dipukul sampai merangkak di lantai, tapi tetap nggak berani bersuara. Kalau bukan karena aku baik hati ....” Kesabaranku akhirnya sudah habis. Aku pun mengajukan cerai. Namun, dia tidak peduli. “Ini cuma candaan kok. Lagian, kejadian itu sudah berlalu begitu lama. Kok kamu kecil hati banget! Kami cuma mau senang-senang kok!” Mau senang-senang? Memangnya hanya aku sendiri yang punya masa lalu? Kenapa dia tidak mengungkit tentang skandal teman semasa kecilnya? Baiklah. Hanya “mau senang-senang”, ‘kan? Aku harap teman semasa kecilnya itu juga berpikiran sama!

My name is Elena, and I died at twenty-two. My parents forced me to take my foster sister’s place and traded me for a territorial alliance. My mate was the most volatile heir of the wolf packs. Beaten bloody and fading fast, I made my eighth call for help. At my adopted sister Seraphina’s birthday party, she played the recording of my final, groveling plea—and laughed. My parents listened to those desperate calls with nothing but irritation, dismissing each one as theatrics, an inconvenience unworthy of their time. My brother snarled over the phone, “Then just die already!” So I did. In the end, it was my three-year-old daughter who made the final call—using her smartwatch to video my mother, live-streaming the freezer where my severed head lay. Now, my spirit watches from above as they all, one by one, begin to unravel.

An earthquake struck suddenly during our honeymoon. I suggested that we flee immediately. My husband’s former lover mocked me for being cowardly and paranoid. So, my husband dismissed my fears. I had no choice but to continue sightseeing with them. A fractured steel frame crashed down with an earsplitting clang and smashed into his former lover. She clung to me desperately as the rebars drove into my ribs one by one. Before I could cry out, my husband kicked me down when he saw his former lover in danger. “You wretch! If you hadn’t suggested this honeymoon spot, Lena wouldn’t have gotten hurt! “You knew there’d be an earthquake today. You did this on purpose!” The rebars pierced deeper into my ribs and made every breath I took excruciatingly painful. My husband pushed me aside, lifted his former lover into his arms, and stormed off without glancing back. “Before the aftershock hits, I’m taking Lena to the hospital! Then, I’ll call for rescue. “Stay here and reflect on your actions. This is your punishment for scheming against Lena!” I waited all night. He did not know that the torrential rains of the monsoon season had flooded the area. What awaited him was the bloated corpse of a pregnant woman.

Après la disparition de son père et le suicide de son frère, le Dieu de la guerre est retourné avec le chant de victoire, jurant de venger sa famille...

Blood is thicker than water, but loyalty matters. What happens when two people who despise each other at their core embrace each other's flaws, share a deep desire, and understand each other's needs? To make matters worse, they must also reconcile their families' long-standing grudges, where hidden secrets threaten their relationship. The journey ahead will be challenging as both clans have enemies who wish for their disappearance. This indicates that a happy ending is unlikely. Should they fight to survive with love as their weapon or abandon everyone and flee? Rated 18 All rights reserved to the author. Do not plagiarize. In follows inside the story -Sweet Redemption -The Lost Billionaire(MBBC#9) -The Billionaire Secret Wife (MBBC#10) -Everett's Downfall (MBBC#11)

I've died on my wedding day. When I'm in the middle of getting cruelly tortured by the thugs, my parents, older brother, and my fiance are all comforting my younger adopted sister, Arianna Capuano, who's bawling her eyes out. Before I die, I've called them for help. But Diego Atzori, my fiance who's the next Don of the Atzori family, sounds extremely angry at me when he picks up the call. "Carlotta Capuano, Arianna's life is more important than our marriage! Stop putting on an act just to attract attention!" The call goes dead. My life is also entering its countdown. I can only lie in my own puddle of blood, my body broken and mutilated, until I stop breathing entirely. No one can find me at home. They think I'm just throwing a tantrum because the wedding has gotten canceled. Perhaps I've chosen to run away from the altar just so I can attract their attention. What they don't know is the fact that I've never left home. In fact, I've died in the basement of my own house. I died right beneath their feet.