Murmur

“You want me back now?” I laugh softly. “What changed? Realized the toy you threw away doesn’t crawl back?” “I f*cked up,” Drystan breathes, on his knees. “I’ll make it right. I swear—” I smile, cold and tired. “You should’ve begged sooner.” "Adeline, I..." Drystan has bare uttered a word when a strong arm wraps around me from behind. A man in a silver mask steps out from the shadows. “What a pity! The little wolf has an appointment with me tonight,” he murmurs seductively, his lips grazing my neck in a possessive touch. ... On her 18th birthday, Adeline Vale was meant to awaken her wolf and be claimed by the Alpha she loved. Instead, she was declared a traitor. Rejected. And thrown into the cursed forest to die. But death never came. A masked stranger did… He saved her and whispered a chilling promise: “I will haunt you forever.” Later, the Alpha dragged her back. He paraded another woman before her, and tore her heart apart as he vented his hatred on her. When Adeline lost all hopes, she did something nobody expected—She faked her death. And disappeared. Now, the Alpha has gone feral, tearing through packs in a desperate search for her. And the masked man? He’s still watching. Still waiting. And this time, he refuses to let anyone else touch what’s his. As old magic awakens and secrets resurface, Adeline finds herself caught between two ruthless men and an unavoidable destiny. One might be her fate. The other says fate be damned, she’ll be his anyway. They think they own her. But to survive their addiction, she’ll have to remind them: only she decides who gets to keep her.

Kamakura Metropolitan University practically worships its resident bad‑boy brood: Akuma Takashi and his hand‑picked trio—Tomo Aizawa, Reiho Tsukishima, Itsuki Moriyama, and Takumi Kisaragi. Handsome, untouchable, and forever bored, they survive on one intoxicating pastime: reckless bets. The whole campus swoons over them, yet something about the quartet feels… off—too polished, too predatory, almost supernatural. It’s a sun‑soaked Thursday when trouble finds them. Akuma lounges in the cafeteria, annotation pen hovering over a battered paperback, when Tomo drops into the seat opposite, eyes gleaming. “Bro,” he drawls, “bet you can’t make the very next person through that door fall hopelessly in love with you.” The glass doors hiss. In walks Kaito Ishikawa—hood up, earbuds in, radiating I‑dare‑you apathy. Once upon a freshman year, he was Reiho’s favorite target; lockers, insults, sucker punches—Kaito endured them all with a single bored blink and a muttered expletive. Reiho flinches at the memory. “Bad call, Tomo. The guy’s got ice water for blood and a tongue like barbed wire.” Itsuki arches a brow; Takumi gives a low whistle. Tomo just smirks wider. Akuma snaps his book shut, eyes tracking Kaito’s deliberate stride. A lazy, dangerous smile curls across his lips. “Challenge accepted,” he murmurs— and in that heartbeat, the game is on. Akuma Takashi is the very definition of breathtaking. With white marble hair that dances with the wind and ocean-blue eyes that could drown you without warning, he’s the kind of beauty that makes people stop mid-step—and girls quite literally beg for his attention. He’s tall—like, stupidly tall—standing at a striking 180 cm, and he knows how to use every inch of it. And then there’s Kaito Ishikawa—just 165 cm of pure, concentrated menace. A short, sharp-tempered little villain, armed with jet-black hair, deep brown eyes, and zero tolerance for bullshit. He’s either buried in a book or glued to his phone, rarely acknowledges class, and yet… he’s always topping the academic charts. How? No one knows. Why? No one dares to ask. Frankly, no one cares—because Kaito doesn’t give a single damn about being understood. He’s chaos in a quiet package. And Akuma? He might be the only one insane enough to unwrap it.

Melanie Collins was the perfect wife—caring, strong, and dependable. For the last few years, she had managed her husband’s messy family, and business alone while waiting for her husband to return from studying abroad. But when he finally came back, Melanie’s world fell apart—he wasn’t alone. Along with him was his 'best' friend. Broken and confused about the change in her husband, Melanie didn’t know where to turn. And then she stumbled into another cold reality. Everything she had believed was a lie. Seething with anger and humiliation, as she tried to come to terms with the betrayal, an unexpected person steps into the picture, intent on seducing her and conquering her. The only problem? The man was her ex brother in law... And against her better judgment, she is attracted to this bad boy... But as Melanie tried to make sense of the changes, she discovered there was more going on than she ever imagined. Had both brothers loved really fallen in love with her? Or was she just a pawn in a bigger game? excerpt Since he had already been leaning against the table, he simply slid onto it, and with one swift motion, he hooked his boot around the leg of her chair and pulled it—pulled her—closer.The sudden movement made her jolt slightly, and when she looked up or rather when she looked ahead, she found herself staring directly at the zipper of his jeans... She looked up then and met his gaze. He caught her chin," Would you like to check if I am only pretending, sweet melon?"Melanie stiffened. And then pushed back her chair suddenly, so that Adam almost lost his balance, as she stood up. Before he could balance himself, she placed her hand on his shoulder, her fingers brushing against his neck.  Adam stiffened, his eyes glittering as he waited to see what she would do next. And she, of course surprised him as her other hand, slowly settled on the inside of his thigh. And then, the hand on his shoulder started to move. Her fingers tracing the side of his neck before lifting as she shot a glance to the corner of his mouth. The little piece of metal glinting there. She flicked at it lightly, barely a touch, but Adam could feel the heat all over his body, as she leaned in close, her lips barely a few centimetres away...so that they could both feel each other's breaths… She smiled slowly then. "Careful, Adam," she murmured, her voice playful, but carrying the unmistakable edge of a challenge. "Keep pushing, and I just might call your bluff."

Leo se réveille dans un monde qu'il ne reconnaît pas, sans souvenir de qui il est ni pourquoi il est là. Tout ce qu'il sait, c'est que survivre n'est pas qu'une nécessité—c'est sa seule chance de découvrir la vérité. Jeté dans un test brutal pour les assassins sur une planète hostile et extraterrestre, Leo découvre rapidement un instinct extraordinaire pour le combat et l'évasion—des capacités qui semblent naturelles mais qui demeurent un mystère même pour lui. Mais à mesure que les épreuves sanglantes se déroulent, des murmures sur sa lignée commencent à faire surface. Dans un univers où les dieux sont éternels et invincibles, Leo porte le sang du seul être qui a défié cette règle : l'Assassin Intemporel, une légende crainte par les mortels et les divinités. Maintenant, chassé pour ce qu'il représente et accablé par un héritage qu'il ne peut encore comprendre, Leo doit tracer son chemin à travers un labyrinthe mortel d'ennemis, d'alliances et de conspirations cosmiques—tout en reconstituant les fragments de son passé oublié. Car dans les ombres de son identité fracturée se cache une vérité qui pourrait ébranler les cieux eux-mêmes.

Delia's life was a cruel reality: the neglected and abused illegitimate daughter of a noble family, the Ellington family, she yearned for the love of her stepmother, Baroness Augusta, and younger sister, Lady Anne, who relentlessly mistreated her. Her world crumbled when she discovered a double betrayal: her beloved husband, Lord George had secretly pined for Anne, marrying Delia only to be near her sister. Simultaneously, her step mother framed her for a crime Anne committed. Overwhelmed and heartbroken, Delia's attempt to escape a death sentence led to a fatal carriage accident. But death was not the end. Delia awoke one year in the past, finding herself still engaged to George. This was her second chance, and the naive girl was gone, replaced by a woman consumed by a burning desire for revenge. Her first target: Duke Eric Carson, the powerful and wealthy man her sister Anne desperately pursued. Delia boldly approached Eric with a proposition for a contract marriage. To her surprise, Eric agreed, but with a condition: their fake marriage would become real and they can go their separate way after a year, hiding his own secret agenda. Now, armed with Eric's unexpected devotion and his willingness to lay down his life for her, Delia meticulously begins to dismantle her family's world. With Eric's help, she exposes the secrets they hide, manipulates their desires, and turns them against each other, orchestrating George’s demotion, Anne's downfall and seizing everything her sister coveted, including Duke Eric love and obsession. Will Delia and Eric be able to conquer all odds to get what they want? What happens when Eric doesn’t want their contract marriage to end? What happens when the last petal that indicates her second chance falls? ——————— EXCPRET “I can’t return your feelings, your grace,” Delia whispered, her back against the cool wall. “But I can,” Eric murmured, stepping closer. Delia’s voice trembled. “It’s not the same.” She choked out. “ No one can love me without hurting me.” “Then teach me,” he said, his breath warm on her cheek. “Teach me how to love you the way you deserve to be loved. I’m a quick study.” When she stayed silent, he sighed contentedly, a soft smile playing on his lips. “It’s alright. Just… use me. Anything you need. if you want money, ask the treasury, take as much money that’s needed. if you want power, use my name. if you want security and love, use my body.” His breath warmed her skin, his chest rose and fell with hers. "As long as it's from you, I'm happy."

"Let me take a look." The handsome professor, with his broad shoulders and powerful muscles, lifted me effortlessly and placed me on the desk. His strong hands gently lowered the strap of my uniform to examine the bruise from training. "Helanie! Why do you always end up hurt?" His voice grew husky, sending a shiver down my spine as I struggled to catch my breath. I had to remind myself that he’s my professor... and my stepbrother. I shouldn’t be seduced by his touch. "If anyone bullies you again, come to my office and I will deal with them," he murmured, his beautiful eyes locking onto mine. Despite knowing he’s forbidden, I couldn’t help but wonder—should I tell him about the mate bond I felt the night he was drunk? .. When her parents rejected each other, Helanie went from being her daddy's angel to a neglected and forgotten child. But on her eighteenth birthday, things took a dark turn. When her body went into heat, she attracted a group of alphas. Instead of rescuing her, her secret alpha boyfriend ran away. That night changed Helanie’s life forever. Accused of consenting to the attack, she was sentenced to execution by her own pack. Desperate, she fled, determined to find her mother. What she didn’t expect was to find her mother preparing to marry a rogue king with four dangerously handsome and beastly sons. Things turn even darker when she felt a mate bond with her bully stepbrothers, will she be able to escape their claws or their seduction will ruin her life to next extremes? .. Facebook - Alexis Dee

Melanie Collins era a esposa perfeita—carinhosa, forte e confiável. Nos últimos anos, ela havia administrado sozinha a família e os negócios caóticos do marido, enquanto esperava que ele voltasse de seus estudos no exterior. Mas quando ele finalmente retornou, o mundo de Melanie desmoronou—ele não estava sozinho. Junto com ele estava seu 'melhor' amigo. Destruída e confusa com a mudança em seu marido, Melanie não sabia para onde se virar. E então ela tropeçou em outra dura realidade. Tudo em que ela acreditava era uma mentira. Fervendo de raiva e humilhação, enquanto tentava aceitar a traição, uma pessoa inesperada entra em cena, determinada a seduzi-la e conquistá-la. O único problema? O homem era seu ex-cunhado... E contra seu bom senso, ela se sente atraída por esse bad boy... Mas enquanto Melanie tentava entender as mudanças, ela descobriu que havia muito mais acontecendo do que jamais imaginara. Será que os dois irmãos realmente se apaixonaram por ela? Ou ela era apenas um peão em um jogo maior? trecho Como ele já estava apoiado na mesa, simplesmente deslizou sobre ela e, com um movimento rápido, enganchou sua bota ao redor da perna da cadeira dela e puxou—puxou ela—para mais perto. O movimento repentino a fez estremecer levemente, e quando ela olhou para cima ou melhor, quando olhou para frente, se viu encarando diretamente o zíper da calça jeans dele... Ela então olhou para cima e encontrou seu olhar. Ele segurou o queixo dela, "Gostaria de verificar se estou apenas fingindo, melãozinho?" Melanie enrijeceu. E então empurrou sua cadeira para trás repentinamente, fazendo com que Adam quase perdesse o equilíbrio, enquanto ela se levantava. Antes que ele pudesse se equilibrar, ela colocou a mão no ombro dele, seus dedos roçando contra seu pescoço. Adam enrijeceu, seus olhos brilhando enquanto esperava para ver o que ela faria em seguida. E ela, é claro, o surpreendeu quando sua outra mão pousou lentamente na parte interna da coxa dele. E então, a mão em seu ombro começou a se mover. Seus dedos traçando o lado do pescoço dele antes de se erguerem enquanto ela lançava um olhar para o canto da boca dele. O pequeno pedaço de metal brilhando ali. Ela o tocou levemente, mal um toque, mas Adam podia sentir o calor por todo seu corpo, enquanto ela se inclinava para perto, seus lábios a apenas alguns centímetros de distância... para que ambos pudessem sentir a respiração um do outro... Ela sorriu lentamente então. "Cuidado, Adam," ela murmurou, sua voz brincalhona, mas carregando a inconfundível ponta de um desafio. "Continue provocando, e eu posso acabar aceitando seu blefe."

[Warning: Mature Content R18+] “By the gods, you’re not what I expected.” The words cut clean through my mind, link, sudden, and unmistakable, and I froze. The man standing before me was more than wreckage washed ashore. Caelan was the outcast, born a Witch-Fae, and they termed him the wild one. Born of both courts and claimed by neither, he was a creature of untamed magic and impossible legend. And now, he stood before me at the edge of the Pearl Castle, salt water curling around his ankles, cloak clinging to his frame like shadows and silk. “Up close, you’re even more handsome, Morkai,” he said aloud, voice rough but laced with a mocking edge, and he grinned like someone who’d just won a very long game. My pulse kicked hard beneath my ribs, and I realized that I’d known him before this moment. Not his face, not his form, but his voice and his presence. That voice had pierced my thoughts through the link days ago, waking something I thought long dead. “You’re Caelen,” I said quietly, reverently. He winked and stepped closer, unconcerned by the power thrumming between us. “Didn’t think you’d recognize me so fast, your Majesty.” “Your voice is imprinted in my mind,” I replied, the truth spilling out before I could stop it. Caelen tilted his head slightly, the wet strands of his dark hair catching in the breeze. His green eyes, bright and impossibly deep, caught mine and held them. “Then I suppose meeting you here was inevitable,” he said, softer now. I stepped forward. I heard the way his breath hitched, and I knew then he was as affected by me as I was by him. “You are truly a sight to behold. Is this magic or witchery?” I murmured, and a flicker passed through his expression, like he’d been waiting for those words. “Oh,” he said, voice dipping low as he moved closer, close enough for our magic to stir the air between us, and he raised his chin, stared up into my eyes, and spoke with quiet fire, “What about you, your Majesty?” He paused. “You’re not just handsome, you're the kind of beautiful that unsettles every part of my body, since the first time I set my eyes on you." My breath caught, and for the first time in a century, the sea went silent around me. *************************************************************************************** Beneath the waves, destiny awakens. On the shore, something ancient stirs. Morkai Vaelan, the Abyssal Sovereign, was once a prince, now a legend, drowned in time. Bound to the sea by a forgotten curse, he reigns in solitude from his spectral Pearl Castle, feared by sailors and forsaken by the gods. His heart, like the ocean, hides storms no one dares to weather. Caelen Thorne is a Witch-Fae with no home to call his own. Too wild for witches and too human for Fae, he is haunted by a prophecy that marks him as both a harbinger and a key. His magic is dangerous. His past is a mystery. And his future? Drenched in blood and saltwater. When a rupture in the ocean's heart threatens to destroy both land and sea, Morkai and Caelen are bound by a force older than time and drawn into a love that defies every law of gods and men. But as desire deepens and secrets surface, they must face the greatest danger of all: each other. Dark, romantic, and sweeping as the tide, The Drowned Prince and the Outcast is a tale of ancient magic, forbidden love, and the storm that comes when two broken souls refuse to let go.

The moonlight spilled through the canopy of the dark forest, casting an eerie glow on the man lounging against an ancient tree. Morris was impossibly handsome—too handsome to be real. His sharp jawline, framed by tousled black hair, was shadowed by the flicker of firelight in his golden eyes. He swirled a goblet of wine lazily in his hand, his lips curved into a devilish smirk. Elowen froze, captivated. He looked like a prince from a forbidden story, but something in the air warned her he was no mortal. “Lost, little lamb?” His voice was velvet, dark and smooth, wrapping around her like a spell. “I was...just—” she stammered, but he stood in one fluid motion, closing the distance between them. “Just wandering into my domain,” he interrupted, his tone teasing yet dangerous. “How bold of you.” His gaze raked over her, and her heart pounded under the weight of his attention. “You shouldn’t be here,” he murmured, stepping closer until she could feel the heat radiating from him. “Do you know who I am?” She shook her head, her throat dry. “I am Morris,” he said, his voice dropping to a low, seductive growl. “The devil. The one your kingdom fears, the one your priests curse. And now,” he leaned in, his golden eyes glowing like embers, “you’ve wandered straight into my hands.” The shadows around him seemed to ripple with his amusement as a smirk played on his lips. He extended a hand, his voice both a command and an invitation. “Come closer, Elowen. Let me show you what happens when innocence meets the devil.”

He was the feral Alpha King buried beneath the mountain. She was the cursed girl they offered to him as sacrifice to end the famine plaguing their lands. Ruvan, the first Alpha. Imprisoned, driven to utter madness, and starved of power. Solenne, the packless she-wolf rumored to be cursed and bring misfortune to all who cross paths with her. With the power of cursed speech, she is able to kill and bend the world to her will with only one word. To avoid hurting others, she hasn't spoken a single syllable since she was a child. Feared and rejected by her own people, she is given to the mountain in a forbidden ritual-sacrifice... and her scent stirs the beast that slumbers beneath it. His mate. Ruvan will stop at nothing to claim what's his, even if that means storming the heavens and finding the cure to her curse just to hear her speak his name. ---- She saw stars behind her eyes and felt constellations carved into her skin with every lingering touch and each press of his mouth. He painted the night sky onto her body, not with a brush, but with his lips, hands, and his insatiable hunger—until her lungs were empty and her heart soared so high it must’ve kissed the moon. “Solenne,” Ruvan murmured, voice low and reverent, like a prayer. She shivered; the sound of her name on his lips felt like heaven. Ruvan pressed his palm to her stomach, anchoring her as he leaned in, mouth brushing the hollow of her throat. His hand rose, slow and shaking, tracing the shape of her jaw like it was a sight made only for him. His thumb brushed the corner of her mouth and his eyes burned as he studied her. “You feel like the stars,” he whispered, “Mesmerizing and bright... something that I want to capture and keep to myself." And then he kissed her; it was a deep, aching vow he couldn’t speak aloud. A promise made only in breath, heat, and need. When they parted, he gently pressed his forehead against hers. His voice dipped lower… uncertain, maybe even afraid: “Say my name?” -- R18, werewolves, fated love, weak to strong... I hope you enjoy my second entry for 2025 WSA. :) give it a shot~

The forest pulsed with life, the scent of rain clinging thick in the air. The moon hung heavy overhead, a silver eye watching—waiting. Beneath it, the alpha stood at the clearing’s edge, broad shoulders tense, golden eyes locked on the lone figure before him.The omega was smaller, leaner, his dark curls damp from the mist. His chest rose and fell with measured breaths, but there was no fear in him. No submission. Just something wild, something defiant.The alpha’s wolf stirred, restless. Wrong. Omegas were supposed to lower their gaze, bare their throats, yield. This one? He met the alpha’s stare head-on, lips curling at the edges like he knew exactly how much that would piss him off.“You shouldn’t be here.” The alpha’s voice was a low growl, his instincts warring between warning and… something else.The omega tilted his head, sharp amusement flashing in his dark eyes. “And yet, here I am.”A challenge.Something in the alpha snapped. In a blur, he closed the distance, caging the omega against the nearest tree. Heat crackled between them, the scent of pine and something dangerous filling the air. The omega didn’t flinch, didn’t shrink back. Instead, he dragged his tongue over his bottom lip, slow and deliberate, like he was tasting the tension between them.“You’ve got a death wish,” the alpha murmured, his breath ghosting over the omega’s skin.The omega smirked. “Maybe. Or maybe I just like watching you lose control.”The alpha’s hands curled into fists against the bark. This omega is going to be the death of me

"Where did he go?" I murmured, realizing I was alone. My heart sank as I scanned the room for any sign of him. But It was just me, an empty wine bottle on the floor, and memories of the night before. I pushed myself up, feeling the dull ache in my body. The alcohol still lingered in my system, and I had no idea how many times we had... well, how many times we had done it. But despite everything, I couldn't deny I had enjoyed it. "You're such an idiot Kim!" I scolded myself, running a hand through my messy hair. "You didn't even ask for his name." I sighed, embarrassed at my recklessness. How could I let myself go low with a stranger like that? I glanced down, realizing I was completely naked. "Oh my gosh!" I yelped, grabbing my dress off the floor and quickly slipping it on... ★★ Humiliated and betrayed, Kimberly Fray's life as a powerful Alpha's daughter of the Moon Stone Pack crumbles when Alpha Derrick of the Night Walkers Pack rejects her. But as she uncovers her true identity, Kimberly finds herself caught between two powerful Alphas who desire her. Torn between Alpha Derrick, who begins to see her worth too late, and calculative Alpha Theo, Kimberly's strength and courage are tested like never before. In a world where love, revenge, and power collide, Kimberly must decide who she truly is, and who she's meant to be with between the two Alphas chosen by the Moon Goddess!

Qiao Nian a vécu dans la maison de la famille Qiao pendant 18 ans avant que ses parents biologiques ne la retrouvent. Soudainement, toutes les familles riches de la ville savaient que la famille Qiao avait une fausse fille ! Une vraie fille de famille aisée serait douée, douce et gentille. Une fausse fille ne serait pas capable d’acquérir des compétences et n’accomplirait rien. Tout le monde voulait voir à quel point elle serait misérable lorsqu'elle retournerait dans son ravin après avoir été expulsée d'une famille riche ! Qiao Nian pensait aussi que ses parents biologiques étaient de pauvres professeurs du comté de Luohe. Qui aurait cru que son frère conduisait une Phaeton d'une valeur de trois cent mille yuans ! Son père biologique était aussi un professeur qui enseignait à l'Université de Tsinghua ! Le gros bonnet de la famille de canailles est devenu un lèche-bottes et s'est incliné devant son grand-père… Qiao Nian était sidérée. Euh… cela ne revenait pas au même que dire oui ! Après avoir été libérée de la famille de canailles, Qiao Nian a pu être elle-même. Elle était la première étudiante à l'examen d'entrée à l'université, une star des diffusions en direct et l'héritière d'un patrimoine culturel inestimable… Ses identités ont été révélées et lorsqu'elle a commencé à apparaître dans les recherches populaires de la ville, la famille de canailles est devenue verte. Les anti-fans se moquaient : À quoi ça sert d'essayer de feindre une image ? Tu ne fais que coller à mon frère tous les jours, n'est-ce pas ? Qiao Nian a répondu : Je suis désolée mais j'ai déjà trouvé chaussure à mon pied. Frère Aîné : @Qiao Nian. Permettez-moi de vous la présenter. Voici ma sœur. Grand-père fortuné : Ma chère petite-fille, pourquoi travailles-tu si dur ? Si tu veux un vélo, grand-père te l'achètera ! Les riches et puissants de Pékin colportaient une rumeur selon laquelle Maître Wang cachait une épouse dans sa maison luxueuse. Peu importe combien de personnes ont essayé de le convaincre, il ne l'a jamais emmenée rencontrer quelqu'un. S'il était interrogé, il répondrait la même phrase. « Ma femme vient de la campagne et elle est timide. » Jusqu'au jour où quelqu'un a vu le noble et froid Maître Wang tenir la taille svelte d'une fille tout en se cachant dans un coin de mur et en murmurant les yeux rouges. « Chérie, quand me donneras-tu un titre ? » [Fausse fille qui vient en réalité d'une famille véritablement riche] + [Deux gros bonnets]

I’m a proud NEET who’s devoured every romance novel, manga, webtoon, and otome game out there. Just when I thought I’d conquered it all, a black bunny appeared in my dream. “Congrats! You’ve been chosen to help villains win across multiple worlds!” “Like a game?” “Uh . . . sure.” “Great, I’m in!” And just like that, I became an agent of the Villain System. Time to rewrite some happily-ever-afters—villain style. **[NOTE!]** This novel features multiple short arcs, each exploring different tropes such as ancient China, the modern world, beasts, werewolves, vampires, fantasy, school romance, idol groups—you name it! The twist? Each arc focuses on our MC making the villain (male) triumph over the male and female leads. The story is written primarily in 2nd and 3rd person POV for a dynamic and immersive experience. || Excerpt || [WARNING! MATURE Content Ahead!] “Then serve me . . . properly.” The command was both sensual and authoritative, and Xue Li’s pulse quickened under his intense gaze. The air between them grew heavy, her trembling hands faltering as she began to run the sponge across his chest, her touch featherlight against his scars. “Y-yes your majesty.” Han Feng leaned back slightly, watching her through half-lidded eyes, his expression unreadable. “Slower,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that made her pulse skip. “You’re trembling,” he said, his voice velvet smooth, making her flinch. “I-It’s the steam, Your Majesty,” she stammered, though she knew it was a poor excuse. Han Feng chuckled softly, the sound deep and rich. “Hmm . . . Is that so? Then you have no problem cleaning my cock right?” Xue Li's eyes trembled, on the verge of tears, which seemed to please Han Feng. His smile grew wider as he urged her on. "Go on. You're going to serve me properly, aren't you?"

{MATURE} {SLOW BURN} "I was scared!" she cried, interrupting him. "You're a married man, you have a wife now, and I didn't want to ruin that. I didn't know how you'd react. And I didn't want my children… our children… to be caught in the middle of more pain." He looked at her in shock, breath caught in his throat. "You just said… our daughter earlier," he said slowly. Yes," she answered. "Jasmine and Hanith. They're yours." Aaron's breath hitched, stumbled back a step, staring at her like he was seeing her for the first time again. "You told me they weren't mine," he whispered. "I lied," she admitted. "Because I was scared. I wanted to protect them. I thought if you knew, you'd take them away. And I also thought you wouldn't want them because you are married now." "Five years," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "I had children... and never knew." He clenched his jaw, struggling to process everything. "They are your children," she said softly. "And now your daughter needs you." ~**~ A single mother, Katherine Prescott was the perfect definition of a B3 classy lady—beautiful, brainy, and brave. She worked her ass off to ensure her children never lacked, building a name for herself while running from the unwanted attachment of the past. But when the past she thought she'd left behind the day she fled with her babies came crashing against the walls she'd built—six years later—everything she buried resurfaced. What if the forgotten spark and desires kept pulling her back into the very past she wanted to forget? What if her babies wouldn't stop asking about their father? Can she really give him a second chance at love… and risk losing herself to passion again? Aaron Knight was a celebrity. He never believed he'd see her again. But there she was—still breathtaking, still beautiful as ever. He wasn't letting her go this time. He would get her back, by hook or by crook. Two problems: he was married… and she was already a mother. #secondchance #billionaire #chasingherback #romance #adultromance #contemporarylit #singlemother

“Next, we have the most noble recipient of the Order of the Garter, the Grand Cross of Saint Michael and Saint George, the Grand Cross of the Bath, the Victoria Cross and the lower grades of Knighthood, the leader of the anti-colonial movement, the bell-ringer of the East India Company, the hero of the Crimean War, a Fellow of the Royal Society, a lifelong dear friend of literary giants such as Dickens and Great Dumas, a steadfast supporter of scientific luminaries like Faraday and Darwin, having served as assistant under-secretary, deputy under-secretary, and permanent under-secretary in departments of the Home Office and the Navy Department of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, the inaugural Cabinet Secretary and head of the civil service, the first graduate and most distinguished alumnus of our school. Please welcome Sir Arthur Hastings to deliver a speech on the occasion of the fiftieth anniversary of the founding of the University of London.” Arthur's gaze swept across the crowd before him, looking at the young faces and murmured, “Agares, what do you think I should say?” The Red Devil's wraith hovered behind him, saliva almost dribbling from the corner of his mouth, “Look at these ignorant souls; they still worship you as a hero. Why not say something they'd like to hear?” Arthur took a deep breath and let out a deafening roar, “Oxford is a bunch of whores' bastards!” “Oh!!!!” The audience erupted into thunderous applause. “Cambridge is the same!” he added immediately. The applause grew even more fervent... (The protagonist, possessed by a devil, travels through 19th-century Britain in a world without magic)

At dawn. The light of dawn lingered, hesitant to arrive, while the remnants of the setting sun had long faded into darkness. Within the city shrouded in thin mist, the hidden churches in the shadows, veins clinging to the cracks in walls, the gnawing sounds echoing from the sewers, and the murmuring shadows... A lantern bearer strolled forward.

Genre: Billionaire Romance / Obsession / Corporate War / Emotional Drama *** A sharp-tongued small-town girl falls into the dangerous love of the most powerful oil mogul in Mexico. But when she becomes the target of his enemies—and his obsession—she must decide if love is worth losing herself… or if he’s worth betraying. *** Joseph León was the most feared name in oil — Mexico’s oil tycoon with empires that stretched across oceans. His name opened doors in Dubai, whispered in Geneva, and commanded boardrooms in Texas. But in the private sanctum of his glass-walled penthouse above Mexico City, the only thing that brought him to his knees… was Green. Green Ariza. The sharp-tongued, warm-eyed girl from the southeast — who didn’t care for oil, power, or the billions in his offshore accounts. And that terrified Joseph more than any corporate war. She stormed into his office, her heels clicking furiously against the Italian marble. Her designer leather bag slammed onto the chair with finality. “I want to talk to you, Joseph!” she snapped. Behind his desk, Joseph was mid-call with a venture capitalist from Qatar, trying to lock in a deal worth $1.3 billion. He held up one finger without looking up — only for a second — then paused. His eyes met hers. Sharp. Furious. Tired of something. He ended the call. “I’ll speak to you later,” he said calmly, before the voice on the other line could protest. “Yes, I know it’s urgent.” He hung up, removed his glasses, and leaned back in his chair. His gaze softened. “What does my love want that has her so upset?” he asked, like the storm in her eyes didn’t scare him. “A Maserati? Givenchy? My black card is right there—just whisper what you want, and it’s yours.” Green exhaled, shaking her head. “I’m not here for gifts, Joseph.” “I know.” “No, you don’t. You always think money can fix things.” “I absolutely don’t think that.” “You bought the company I worked for because I said I was scared of getting fired—how is that not thinking money fixes things?” “I bought it,” he said quietly, “because it was the only way I could keep seeing you. You were avoiding me. Saying you couldn’t risk your job. So I made it yours. You’re head of creative strategy now. With triple your old salary. And you only work when you want.” She turned away, rubbing her forehead. “Green,” he said, his voice a low murmur now. “Can I touch you?” She blinked at him. “Are you asking permission to touch me?” “You usually get angry when I touch you during a fight,” he said honestly, standing slowly. “You say I use it to make you forget why you’re mad.” “…Because you do.” “And you let me.” She turned to face him, and for a moment, neither said a word. He reached out, gently, his hand grazing her elbow. “So tell me, why are you really angry?” She looked away. “Is it because of the girl at the gala?” he asked. Her head snapped back toward him. “She’s like a sister. My father’s goddaughter.” “She was holding your hand.” “She’s grieving. Her brother was assassinated in Bogotá.” Green stepped back, arms folded. “You don’t even see how many women throw themselves at you. My mother tells me I’m stupid for staying. That I should leave you and marry someone safer. Someone like Don Frederick.” Joseph’s jaw tightened. “Don Frederick is a snake with a fake smile and a poisoned chalice. He’s not safe, he’s subtle. That’s worse.” “My mother doesn’t care,” Green said bitterly. “She only sees headlines. And dollar signs.” “What do you see?” he asked, stepping closer. “When you look at me. What do you see?” She didn’t answer. He touched her cheek, gently. “Do you think I’d let myself love anyone but you? I’d burn down every oil well I own before I lose you.” She blinked. “Don’t say things like that.” “Why? Because you believe me?” “No,” she whispered. “Because I do.”

The first time Ren saw Aoi, he was crouched beside the old vending machine outside the corner bookstore, sketching something into a tattered notebook. His blue hair shimmered faintly in the spring sun, like the sea had gifted him a crown. Ren almost walked past him. But the breeze carried a whisper of graphite on paper, the soft rustle of pages turning, and something made him stop. “You’re drawing?” Ren asked, unsure why he even said it. Aoi looked up, blinking once like he was waking from a dream. His eyes were a startling grey, like rain on glass. “…Yeah,” he said quietly. “You’re blocking my light.” Ren awkwardly stepped aside. “Sorry.” For a moment, they stared at each other. Then Aoi returned to his sketch, and Ren left, but something about that moment stayed with him — like a bookmark placed in a chapter he hadn't meant to read. Ren had moved to the seaside town of Hoshinawa after his mother passed away. He lived with his aunt above a quaint little flower shop, spent afternoons helping arrange lilies and writing poems he never let anyone read. The town was quiet, and Ren liked it that way — until he started seeing Aoi everywhere. At the bookstore. Near the cliffs. At the library where he sat in silence, scribbling in his notebook, always alone. They spoke rarely, but when they did, Aoi’s words were careful, like he measured every sentence before letting it out. He didn’t smile much — but when he did, it was faint, fragile, like a star peeking through a cloudy sky. One day, Ren found a sketch slipped into his poetry book at the library. It was a pencil drawing of the cherry tree that bloomed outside his flower shop — and beneath it, a figure that looked suspiciously like him. The next time he saw Aoi, he waited until they were both at the vending machine again. “You left this?” Ren asked, holding up the drawing. Aoi flushed, eyes darting. “Maybe.” Ren smiled. “I write poems about that tree.” “I know,” Aoi murmured. “I’ve read them. You leave the scraps behind.” A silence stretched between them — but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It felt… intimate. “I think,” Aoi said slowly, “your poems make me feel less alone.” Ren’s chest ached, soft and sudden. “I think your sketches do the same,” he whispered. And that was how it started. Over the weeks, they met more often. Exchanged words, drawings, half-written poems. They didn't need grand declarations. Their closeness grew in the quiet spaces — the brush of hands as they reached for the same book, the shared silence watching the sea, the way their shadows leaned into each other as the sun set. One day, under the blooming cherry tree, Ren turned to Aoi and said, “You make me want to write again.” Aoi looked at him, eyes gentler than ever. “Then write me something I can keep.” Ren leaned in, nervous but certain, and kissed him — soft, slow, like poetry in motion. And in that moment, the world wasn’t loud or broken. It was just them — beneath the cherry sky, finding something beautiful in each other.

Suddenly, the door burst open, flying a meter away from its position. A figure stood at the center of the doorway, his chest heaved heavily. His sharp claws glistened in the dim light. His raven black hair was ruffled, and his eyes were silvery grey. “Master…” I muttered, a small smile curved on my lips. ‘He came at last.’ The temperature dropped as his overbearing aura crept into every corner of the room. Damon didn’t charge or growl. He just walked forward slowly, calmly, as if he had all the time in the world. But something about him felt like the calm before a storm. “Close your eyes,” he said. His voice was so calm, as if everything was alright. Then came a sharp, horrifying sound like thick fabric tearing. A blood-chilling cry followed. “STOP! PLEASE! I didn’t touch her… I was wrong… please…!” Erik wailed. But another snap came, followed by a heavy thud against the ground.  “Touch what belongs to me…” Damon murmured. His voice was low, steady, and terrifying. “…And this is what you get.” A long silence followed. Then, slow footsteps echoed. “You’re safe now,” he said. He covered my body with his jacket and carried me out. The candle behind us flickered once more, casting one last glow on Erik’s bloodied remains… before it went out. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ When Ember opened her eyes, she was no longer the powerful, independent woman she once was. Instead, she woke up in the fragile, abused body of a lowly Omega, destined to be nothing but a breeder for the Alphas. Her escape attempt didn’t get her far. Instead, it led her straight into the path of Damon Blackthorn, the ruthless Lycan King feared by all. Sold like a slave by her own father, Ember becomes the property of a man with a frozen heart and a violent temper. But beneath her submissive mask lies something more: a cunning mind and a will that refuses to break. Now, in a world ruled by dominance, power, and ancient bloodlines, Ember must do more than just survive. She must outsmart a king. She must earn the loyalty of the very people who scorn her. And maybe, just maybe, she’ll bring the Alpha to his knees.

"You're dripping," he murmurs. "Just for me." "Please..." I moan. "Please what?" he smirks. "Please, please—I need more." Camille wanted a distraction—nothing more. After her boyfriend cheats on her with best friend, love is off the table. Niklaus Marchand is sinfully hot, emotionally unavailable, and known for never sleeping with the same girl twice. It was supposed to be one night. Him—a temporary escape. Her—just another hookup. But for the first time, he can’t stop craving a woman. And who says you need love to enjoy each other?

"Você me odeia," Lily murmurou com lábios trêmulos. Zayn se inclinou mais perto, sua voz baixa e amarga. "Não. Ódio é muito barato. Eu quero que você sinta o que eu senti. Cada grito. Cada perda." Ela não recuou. Estava cansada de implorar. Apenas o olhou com olhos cheios de dor silenciosa. Então por que parecia que seu coração estava se despedaçando? Lily Brightpaw nasceu filha de um Alfa, mas nunca viveu como uma. Muda desde a infância e incapaz de se transformar, ela foi tratada como uma maldição por sua família. Culpada pela morte de sua mãe e espancada até o silêncio, Lily cresceu sem amor e indesejada. Ela acreditava que a Deusa da Lua lhe enviaria um companheiro que a resgataria, mas estava errada. Na noite em que seu bando caiu, Lily foi arrastada de um casebre e jogada aos pés de seu novo Alfa, Zayn Knightmoon. Ele era o homem que sua família escravizou. Agora ele é o alfa que governa sobre ela e quer vingança. Zayn perdeu tudo. Seu pai. Sua companheira. Seu bando. Tudo pelas mãos da família de Lily. Quando percebeu que Lily é sua segunda chance de ter uma companheira, ele a rejeitou sem hesitação e jurou fazê-la sofrer. Mas quanto mais ele a punia, mais via a verdade: Lily não era nada como os monstros que a criaram. Ela também é uma vítima e está quebrada... como ele. Zayn se viu dividido entre a vingança e um vínculo que nunca pediu. Será que o sofrimento de Lily será suficiente para acalmar os fantasmas de seu passado ou a vingança destruirá os dois?

[¡Ding!] [¡Requisito de Activación del Sistema de Reembolso Cumplido!] [Vinculación del Sistema en Progreso...!] [¡Sistema Vinculado con Éxito!] [Gastó $1,000. Golpe crítico de 10x. Ganó $10,000. El dinero ha sido transferido a la cuenta XXX-XXX-XXX] [Gastó al menos $1,000 en una hermosa dama. Recibió 1 boleto de lotería. ¿Desea utilizarlo?] [SÍ][NO] Kyle era un hombre que nunca había tenido suerte en la vida y estaba a punto de acabar con todo después de ser despedido de su trabajo de salario mínimo debido a la queja de un cliente que resultó ser una mentira, pero debido a que el cliente era una dama atractiva, nadie le creyó a Kyle. Para empeorar las cosas, tuvo que pagar por los daños causados por el cliente. Las personas hermosas, lo tenían fácil, ¿no? Este era su último paso y sabía que no vería el mañana mientras buscaba un río para lanzarse. Pensó que su mente finalmente se había roto ya que no había explicación para la Pantalla Cyan que apareció cuando hizo clic en el botón [SÍ]. [¡Has obtenido Encanto!] [Encanto: ¡No hay nada de lo que el usuario no pueda salir o entrar con su encanto! ¡El universo te ha bendecido con carisma!] "¡Jajaja! Debo haber perdido la cabeza..." murmuró Kyle para sí mismo, pero pronto su teléfono sonó para mostrar que tenía una notificación. Y para su sorpresa, vio $10,000 en su cuenta y su mandíbula cayó. "¡¡¡ESTO ES REAL!!!"

Em um mundo onde Lycans e lobisomens são inimigos jurados, Eve Valmont é uma lobisomem amaldiçoada por uma profecia e incriminada. Traída por sua própria matilha e aprisionada por anos, seu destino toma um rumo mais sombrio quando ela é oferecida ao Rei Lycan, Hades Stavros - um governante temido por suas conquistas impiedosas e habilidade mortal. Presa por uma antiga profecia e assombrada pelos fantasmas de seu passado, Eve agora está à mercê do único ser que deveria odiar e temer mais - O próprio Punho da Morte. Hades, um rei moldado a partir do sangue e da decadência de sua própria alma, determinado a vingar o massacre de sua família e livrar seu povo dos lobisomens. Ele acredita que Eve é a chave para a sua vitória. Para ele, ela não é nada além de uma arma prevista pela profecia, uma ferramenta que ele usará para destruir as forças opostas que ameaçam sua matilha. No entanto, ele se vê desejando esta mulher poderosa, embora quebrada. Deixando-o questionar se ela é realmente sua arma ou aquela destinada a desvendar seus planos cuidadosamente traçados. Ele caminhou em minha direção, um predador se aproximando de sua presa, seus olhos escuros e indecifráveis. 'Então, você ri?' Sua voz era baixa, perigosamente suave, fazendo os pelos na nuca se arrepiarem. Engoli em seco, subitamente consciente de como se tornara difícil respirar. 'Hades, eu—' 'Mas você só ri das piadas de outros homens,' ele interrompeu, seu olhar penetrante, desprovido de qualquer humor. 'Não das piadas do seu marido.' A acusação em seu tom era cortante, atravessando o ar entre nós. Um riso nervoso escapou de mim. 'Você não pode estar falando sério ... Ele é seu beta, pela Deusa.' Num instante, ele diminuiu a distância entre nós, tão rápido que me deixou sem fôlego. Suas mãos agarraram minha cintura, me puxando contra o seu corpo, o calor dele fazendo minha pele formigar. Eu respirei fundo, mas antes que eu pudesse dizer uma palavra, seus lábios colidiram com os meus, reivindicando minha boca com uma força que enviou ondas de choque através de mim. O beijo era punitivo, faminto - eu não podia respirar, não podia pensar. Quando ele finalmente recuou, eu estava tremendo, o peito ofegante enquanto lutava para recuperar o fôlego. Seus olhos, escuros e tempestuosos, buscavam os meus com uma intensidade possessiva. 'Você não pode rir das minhas piadas...' ele sussurrou, sua voz um raspão perigoso enquanto seus dedos deslizavam para baixo, enviando um arrepio pela minha espinha, 'mas você vai gozar com os meus dedos.' Eu estremeci, calor se acumulando no fundo da minha barriga com suas palavras, seu toque. O mundo ao nosso redor se tornou um borrão, desaparecendo em nada enquanto a mão dele deslizava para baixo, arrancando de mim um suspiro rouco. O olhar em seus olhos me disse que ele sabia exatamente o que estava fazendo comigo, e não havia como negar a conexão primal entre nós naquele momento. 'Eu não preciso da sua risada,' ele murmurou contra minha pele, seu hálito quente no meu pescoço. 'Eu vou ter cada outra parte de você.'

"Have you heard of him?" A small boy tugged at a woman's skirt, his tiny finger pointing at the large portrait of a man clad in a minister’s robe. "Shhh! Don’t say its name!" The woman hushed him, glancing around anxiously. She knew the boy was only curious about the drawing, yet the inscription beside it spoke of someone else entirely. Still, the credit had been given to the man in the portrait. "Why?" "We just... don’t say it." "Are you talking about The Next General?" A man dressed as a scholar interjected, inserting himself into the conversation. "Everyone is talking about it. After a hundred years, it has returned. I can't decide whether that fills me with hope or dread." His words were meant to impress, to showcase his knowledge, but the woman only tightened her grip on the boy, scooped him up, and hurried away like a hunted animal sensing danger. The scholar let out a single sharp laugh. "A chaotic rhythm… and marvellously extraordinary times are upon us," he murmured, before turning and walking away. --- Disclaimer This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are either the product of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to real events is purely coincidental. The views and opinions expressed by the characters do not necessarily reflect those of the author. This book contains content that may not be suitable for all audiences. Reader discretion is advised. ------- Author-Sama is here with another one, been planning this for quite a while but laziness and procrastination keeps holding me down but now I am free. Here is another exciting historical novel, please enjoy.

Kael awakens in the outskirts of a broken world no past, no name, only whispers in the dark and power that should not be his. Branded by forces unknown and hunted by those who sense what he truly is, Kael struggles to survive in a realm where reality bends for the strong and the weak are forgotten. Veilborn,Whisperborn, and Fathomwalkers. The world classifies its Awakened but Kael doesn’t belong to any of them. Something ancient stirs in his blood. Something the world tried to erase. As ruins breathe secrets and dead gods begin to murmur once more, one truth echoes louder than the rest: He was never meant to exist. And yet… he does.

Five years ago, Anastasia Laurent broke his heart. To her, their college romance was just a careless game—toying with a love she never took seriously. To Dante Alexander Montgomery, it was the ultimate betrayal. Now, he’s back. No longer the lovesick senior she abandoned—but a ruthless billionaire who owns half the city. When Anastasia’s best friend begs her to go on a blind date in her place and ruin it, she agrees—after all, how bad could it be? Bad. Very bad. Because her date? Dante. And he’s not just here to rekindle old flames. He’s here to destroy her. Before she can run, Dante traps her in a deal she never saw coming: Marriage. Publicly, they’ll be the perfect billionaire power couple. Privately? He’ll make her regret the day she walked away. But as the lines between revenge and obsession blur, Anastasia realizes one thing— She thought she was done with Dante. But Dante was never done with her. --- Excerpt "You think you can run from me again, Anastasia?” Dante's voice was calm, but the storm in his eyes told another story. She backed into the wall, pulse racing as he stalked closer, his towering frame cutting off every escape route. “I-I’m not—” she stammered. His fingers tilted her chin, forcing her to meet his cold gaze. “You didn’t just break my heart,” he murmured darkly. “You shattered it. And now? Now, you’ll pay for it.” Her breath hitched. “Congratulations, Anastasia,” he whispered, leaning in until his lips brushed her ear. “You just became my wife.”

Isabella was supposed to be sipping champagne at a luxury spa, not waking up in the middle of a forest. Worse, a SYSTEM had attached itself to her like some clingy ex, spouting nonsense about survival, quests, and—oh, hell no—manual labor. "System, I was NOT built for the wilderness! My ideal ‘roughing it’ experience involves a five-star hotel with bad WiFi!" Now, instead of lounging in silk robes, she’s being ordered to farm? To hunt? "A farming quest? You want me—a city girl—to grow food? System, I once killed a cactus by overwatering it. This is NOT my calling!" And don’t even get her started on the hygiene situation. "You want me to bathe in a cold river? Darling, I require warm water, scented oils, and an ambience! What do I look like—some barbarian?!" Unfortunately, the locals—big, muscular beastmen—don’t seem to understand the concept of self-care. The women? Neglecting their skin like it’s a crime to be radiant. The men? Walking hygiene disasters. "Ladies, if your man can smell you before he sees you, we have a problem." "You see this? This is lotion. It exists so you don’t look like a dried-up leaf. Use it." "A beard should be majestic, not tragic. Let me fix it." And the beastmen? They don’t just stare at her like she’s an oddity. No, they hover. They smirk. They lean in too close, fangs flashing with amusement. "Why do you keep looking at me like that?" she huffed, crossing her arms. The panther grinned, his tail flicking. "Because you’re fascinating when you’re annoyed." No, absolutely not. She was not here for this nonsense. "If you have time to stare, you have time to moisturize." She didn’t ask to be here. She didn’t ask to be their savior. But if she has to suffer through this world, she’s making everyone around her suffer less—through skincare, style, and some serious attitude. "If I hear one more ‘We don’t season our food here,’ I’m launching a war." "If you have time to gossip, you have time to do squats." "You want to impress a woman? Start with not smelling like the battlefield." Survival isn’t just about fighting monsters; it’s about looking good while doing it. So what if the System keeps throwing impossible quests her way? "What do you mean ‘you can’t skip quests’?! Since when?! Where is the skip button?! I demand a skip button!" But somewhere between dodging ridiculous quests and fixing these people’s tragic grooming habits, Isabella found herself in situations. Uncomfortable, heart-racing situations. Like being trapped against a tree by the red python, his red eyes half-lidded as he murmured, "You talk too much, little star. Should I silence you?" Like waking up with the lion lord’s fur-lined cloak draped over her shoulders, his deep voice gruff, "You shiver in your sleep. I’ll fix that." Like the phoenix watching her every move, his burning gaze searing into her skin as he mused, "You cause chaos wherever you go, but I find that I don’t mind." Oh, hell. No. She was not about to fall for four beastmen. She was too pretty for this much stress. "If you insult me again, I’ll make sure your soul needs a beauty upgrade." "I refuse to be disrespected by anyone who dresses like an unwashed tree branch." And yet, when a rival tribe came to challenge her, when danger lurked too close, those same beastmen stood beside her—smirking, taunting, fighting for her. "A beastman growled at me today. I growled back. He ran. I am the alpha now." Isabella isn’t just surviving. She’s thriving. And this world better keep up.

After dying a virgin, Elias Gray is given a second chance—reincarnated in a magical world with the "Lust System", a divine artifact that allows him to gain power by pleasuring women, fulfilling their desires, and growing a harem of elite lovers. From cold queens and fierce warrior women to shy beastgirls and seductive demons, Elias must dominate the world with charm, cunning—and unholy pleasure. But pleasure comes with a price, and not all lovers are loyal. Can he rise to the top without being devoured by lust or betrayal? Elias wandered through the bustling Travelers’ Hub, a sprawling nexus of portals and pathways where high-ranking voyagers crossed dimensions. The air hummed with the faint pulse of arcane energy, and the scent of ozone clung to the stone corridors. His boots echoed against the polished marble as he passed glowing sigils etched into the walls, each marking a gateway to another realm. He was no stranger to these halls, but tonight, a faint murmur from the inner chambers of the elite travelers piqued his curiosity. The voices were low, urgent, and laced with something primal that made his pulse quicken. Drawn toward a shadowed alcove, Elias noticed a heavy iron door, slightly ajar, its surface engraved with runes that pulsed faintly in the dim light. A cold draft slipped through the crack, carrying a whisper of sound—a soft, rhythmic moan that stirred the air. His breath caught, curiosity warring with caution, but the pull was too strong. He nudged the door open and stepped into a chamber cloaked in near-darkness, lit only by a single flickering torch that cast long, wavering shadows across the stone walls. In the center of the room, Lilith knelt on a plush velvet cushion, her silhouette unmistakable even in the gloom. Her dark hair cascaded over her bare shoulders, her skin glowing faintly as if kissed by moonlight. She was bent forward, her hands braced against the floor, her body arched in a way that spoke of surrender and desire. Beside her stood a man, his face marred with jagged scars that caught the torchlight, giving him a rugged, dangerous edge. His eyes burned with intensity as he gazed down at her, his presence commanding the room. The air grew thick as the man’s hand moved, deliberate and unhurried. He spat into his palm, the sound sharp in the quiet, and slid his fingers along Lilith’s exposed skin, tracing the curve of her thigh before slipping between her legs. A low, shuddering moan escaped her lips, her body trembling as she parted her thighs wider, inviting more. The man’s fingers worked with a slow, teasing rhythm, coaxing gasps from her that echoed softly off the stone walls. Her breaths grew ragged, her hips rocking against his hand, and then—a sharp cry as her body convulsed, a glistening rush of release spilling onto the floor beneath her. The man let out a deep, guttural groan, his own arousal evident in the tightening of his jaw. He shifted, freeing himself from his trousers, his erection thick and heavy in the flickering light. He pressed himself against her, sliding into her with a slow, deliberate thrust that drew a long, throaty moan from Lilith. Her fingers curled against the floor, nails scraping the stone as he moved, each thrust deep and measured, the sound of their bodies meeting filling the chamber. In and out, a steady rhythm that built with intensity, her gasps rising in pitch. Lilith’s eyes fluttered, her body quivering with pleasure as she pushed back against him, meeting each thrust with a hunger of her own. When he paused, drawing back slightly, she reached for him, her hand guiding him back inside with a desperate urgency. Her moans grew louder, unrestrained, as she surrendered fully to the sensation, her body trembling under the weight of her desire. The room seemed to pulse with their shared rhythm, the air heavy with the scent of sweat and heat, the torchlight casting their entwined shadows across the walls like a forbidden dance. R18 content

"Martial Arts World..." Death murmured, shocked by the turn of the events. How could he, primordial being of the afterlife, get tricked by a mere human? Not just a mere human, but also earthling, race that was weakest of the twenty realms. Death realized the extent of his mistake. An earthling had just jumped into the river of the reincarnation, where he definitely didn't belong. It was too late. The damage has been done. The matter was now out of his hands. "Kiernan Hunter..." ... Remake of the Martial Arts System, and while the concept stays the same, the story is completely different. A few names, etc, stays the same, but mostly whole new story. I've wanted to do this for a while, and now I had finally motivation to do it.