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The Forgotten Girl

Nine: The forgotten Flame

Her voice floats in the dark—slow, distant, cracked at the edges. A memory unraveling itself in ruin. "Oh… and I just died again." A beat. "Didn’t even get the chance to scream this time. Just burned. Like always." "But it doesn’t matter. None of this is real. Not really. It’s just… something stuck on repeat. A scene that loops like it’s written in the marrow of my bones." She inhales. Smokes chokes even the thought. "I think I’ve been trapped here for so long, I started dreaming with my eyes open." "Don’t get confused. I wasn’t always like this. I was a god. A ruler. Born of stars and saltwater. Atlantis was mine to inherit. My name—my legacy—was etched into the stone of the sea before I ever took my first breath." "And then…" her voice tightens "Mortals." "They didn’t worship. They hunted. They slaughtered the gods—burned our temples, tore our wings, shattered our hearts." "And me? They didn’t kill me. They needed me alive. Needed me to scream." "You ever wondered what it feels like—melted gold poured on your skin? Not once. Not twice. A thousand times. They’d stop. Let me heal. Then start again. That’s how I lost my gift. That’s how I lost my healing. That’s how I lost time." "I was just a child when the first war came. Barely 200 years old—barely chosen. By 500, I was ready for the throne. Strong. Steady. Loved." "Then the massacre." "Atlantis died." "And I disappeared into shadow." "Ten thousand years they kept me. Caged. Bound. Tortured. Not enough to die. Just enough to wish I could." "And then I saw my chance. I ran. I fought. I clawed my way out—" "But they found me. Again." "They reversed my age—ripped me backward through time like I was nothing but a thread. Left me a child. A hundred years old again. Powerless." "Then came the final curse: They locked me inside an illusion." "My illusion." "The one I created as a child—the night my village burned. The night I screamed and no one came." "Now I live that night again." "And again." "And again." "I die. I wake. I die. I wake." "Every ending is a beginning wrapped in fire." "And I’m tired." "Tired of bleeding for gods who are gone. Tired of breaking for humans who only know how to destroy." A long pause. "They used me." "Wore me out like a story passed through too many mouths." Then her voice drops—low, steel in it now. A whisper with weight. "But I swear… the next time I rise…" "It won’t be to save them." "It’ll be to end them." "They wanted a hero out of me." "I’ll give them something else." "A god... with nothing left to lose." READER ADVISORY: Everything in this world is handcrafted — from currency to the most basic details. My characters are morally gray, and each one is forged through relentless trials, not born into greatness. If you're hypersensitive, this story isn't for you. This book is brutal, raw, and unapologetically different. But if you’re craving something bold, dark, and unlike anything you’ve read before — step in. Thanks for reading.
FA3zy · 6.4K Views

The Billionaire’s Forgotten Bride

What if the person you loved most in the world, the one who knew your every scar, secret, and soft place woke up one day and looked at you like a stranger? Billionaire tech mogul Kairo Lancaster was known for his brilliance, ruthlessness in the boardroom, and a private life so tightly locked that not even tabloids could scratch its surface. But what the world didn’t know, what even his closest aides didn’t suspect, was that during a rare moment of escape overseas, Kairo did something wildly uncharacteristic: he fell in love. Deeply, entirely, and quietly married the woman who changed him. Her name was Noelle Reyes, a compassionate, quietly resilient woman with a mysterious past and a strength that matched Kairo’s own. Their whirlwind romance unfolded under Moroccan lanterns, whispered vows made without witnesses or legal signatures. It was unorthodox, untraceable and unbreakable. Until the crash. A tragic private jet accident shattered everything. Kairo survived barely. He awoke two months later in a hospital in London, battered, scarred, and with no memory of his wife, their secret marriage, or the life they’d begun to build together. All he had was a hollow sense of grief without a name and flashes of warmth that didn’t belong to anyone he could recall. For Noelle, it was worse than death. Erased from his memory, and without any legal proof of their union, she couldn’t claim to be his wife. Not to the hospital, not to his advisors, not to the media. So she did the only thing she could do, she stayed close in the only way left to her: under an alias, posing as a volunteer and later, a temporary housekeeper at his estate. Every day she cleans the rooms he doesn’t remember sharing with her. Every night she writes in a journal addressed to the man who once called her his compass. She watches him search for something he can’t name, feeling helpless, hopeful, and torn between revealing the truth or letting love find its way back on its own. Meanwhile, Kairo is haunted by fragments: a woman’s laughter, the scent of citrus, the ghost of promises made in candlelight. Everyone tells him it’s his mind’s attempt to fill the blanks. But his heart disagrees, his soul remembers what his memory can’t. As his recovery progresses, he becomes increasingly obsessed with uncovering the identity of the woman he dreams about. And every time he looks at the quiet housekeeper with the too-familiar eyes, he feels like he’s almost home. But when memory returns, will it come gently or like a flood that exposes all the lies she was forced to tell? And will love once built in fire and sealed by a vow whispered under foreign stars be strong enough to survive being forgotten?
Oluwatosin_Akinola_6174 · 4.6K Views
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