Marble

Prologue: The Boy Who Refused to Stop Thinking In a world where power meant everything, Cian Archdemon had nothing. No family. No friends. No protection. Only his mind — sharp, cold, relentless — was his weapon. The polished marble floors of Blackthorn International Academy glistened beneath the morning light, but no one noticed the beauty. Not when the stench of privilege, cruelty, and blood stained the halls. They hated him. A boy with no parents — dead in a car crash. A boy with no lineage — an outsider among the elite. A boy with sharp features, ghost-like skin, and eyes too cold, too calculating for a child. A boy… too curious. They cornered him. They bit him. They broke him. And as their fists crashed into his frail body… as blood pooled beneath him… Cian didn’t cry. Didn’t scream. Didn’t feel. He only thought. “Pain receptors… neural override… interesting… I wonder how long the body can survive on thought alone…” Even as his body collapsed onto the floor — his vision darkening, his chest refusing to rise — Cian's mind refused to die. And when the world around him finally faded… something else pulled him in. --- Elsewhere… across realms… In a grand palace filled with ancient magic and roaring beasts, a desperate kingdom cried out to the heavens. Their prince — their future — his soul shattered. His body empty. They summoned salvation. But fate… delivered something far more dangerous. --- Cian's fragmented soul… still whispering scientific theories… answered the call. His blood-stained consciousness was torn from death… Fused into a foreign body… Bound by ancient magic… And resurrected… Not as the boy they expected… but as the anomaly they could never control. Beast blood pumping through unfamiliar veins. A Curiosity System mutating within his soul. A mind… still overthinking. Still dissecting. Still unkillable. And as his eyes slowly opened in this new world… The only thing Cian felt was quiet, maddening excitement. “New environment detected… Variables unknown… Hypothesis: This world… will be my greatest experiment.” --- The boy who died thinking… was not gone. He had only just begun. --- Cian Archdemon: Beast of Curiosity The experiment begins now…

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

Every hero starts with power. He started with dust. One moment, the classroom buzzed with teenage chatter. The next, silence fell. Students blinked—and opened their eyes in an ancient hall carved from gold and marble. The air shimmered with divine magic. And at its center stood a goddess—flawless, proud, unbelievably beautiful and wrapped in flowing white. It was a divine summoning performed by a divine goddess. Among them was Vritra… and his stunningly beautiful mother. While others received blessings, powerful physiques and grand titles, Vritra was given a skill so pathetic it made even the goddess wrinkle her nose. An ability—so pitifully weak that it drew laughter, scorn, and even disgust. But that wasn't the worst part. Betrayed and cornered inside the labyrinth, Vritra had two choices: die… or fall into the death trap. A death canopy with no exit and no chance of survival, the only option was to slaughter the demons endlessly for months. Finally!! He forced his dormant skill to awaken, after killing thousands and hundreds of thousands demons and devouring them, becoming a broken ability. A dragon? A demon? What am I exactly? ****** White robes. Cold arrogance A sinful revenge. White robes can stain. And in the dark, even divinity can moan. And then there was his mo— guilt in her breath, shame in her eyes, whispering apologies between gasps in her son's ear, doing what had to be done… for both their sakes, giving birth to a morally wrong relation. ________________ Absolutely no NTR, none at all!!! Extra chapters based on response I receive, that's all for now, peace out!!

[Ding!] [Cashback System Activation Requirement Met!] [System Binding In Progress...!] [System Successfully Linked!] [Spent $1,000. 10x Critical Hit. Earned $10,000. The money has been transferred to account XXX-XXX-XXX] [Spent at least $1,000 on a beautiful lady. Received 1 lottery ticket. Do you want to use it?] [YES][NO] Kyle was a man that has never had any luck in life and he was on the verge of ending it all after being fired from his minimum wage job due to a customer's complaint which turned out to be a lie but due to the customer being an attractive lady, no one believed Kyle. To make matters worse, he had to pay for the damages that was caused by the customer. Beautiful people, they had it easy, didn't they? This was his last step and he knew that he wouldn't see tomorrow as he searched for a river to throw himself in. He thought his mind finally broke as there was no explanation for the Cyan Screen that popped up as he clicked the [YES] button. [You have drawn Charm!] [Charm: There is nothing the user can't charm his way out of or into! The universe has blessed you with charisma!] "Hahaha! I must have lost my marbles..." Kyle muttered to himself but his phone soon rang out to show that he had a notification. And to his surprise, he saw $10,000 sitting in his account and his jaw dropped. "THIS IS FOR REAL!!!"

No system. No shortcuts. Just memory, grit, and the will to burn brighter. When gods fall silent, only the stubborn rise. William Carter died quietly—a forgotten soul in a world that never gave him a chance. But death wasn’t the end. He awakens as William Denvers, infant heir to a noble house in Primera, a shattered world once shaped by goddesses and divine law. There’s no system prompt. No cheat skill. No divine blessing. Just memory, silence, and a single burning vow: “I want to live. I want to show the world… I am William Carter. And I am here.” As he learns to crawl through the marble halls of House Denvers, William begins the long, brutal path toward power—the hard way. Through books, blades, and bone-deep resolve, he must grow in a land where magic is legacy, war is memory, and children are molded into tools. But Primera is not a peaceful land. Whispers of vanished gods still haunt the wind. Cults of flame and shadow stir beneath sacred soil. And behind the grace of noble houses lie secrets that could tear the world apart once more. William Denvers is not chosen by fate. He chooses himself. To survive. To rise. To make this second life matter. And when the fires of war return to Primera, he will not run. He will remember the vow that brought him here—and ignite a world with it.

One elite school. One dead student. Two boys who can’t stand each other…and can’t stay away. Welcome to Blackwell Academy. A school where power isn’t earned…it’s inherited. Blackwell Academy is the most prestigious high school in the country…. But behind the ivy-covered walls and marble floors, nothing is innocent. Secrets are traded. Scandals are covered. And everyone is playing a role in the chain. At the top of the food chain is The Glass Circle….a powerful, group of six students born into wealth, influence, and power. They’re admired, feared, envied. Untouchable. One night, one of them, in the circle ends up dead. What happens when Ash Rivera….a quiet, artistic scholarship student from the slums of the city…witnesses the one thing he was never meant to see? He wasn’t supposed to be at the party. He wasn’t supposed to step into their world. He wasn’t suppose to see the body fall off the rooftop. He definitely wasn’t supposed to catch Dominic Vale’s attention. But one wrong night changes everything. He’s the only one who knows the truth…and the only one the killer didn’t plan for. “They said I didn’t belong in their world. They were right. Now I’m the secret no one saw coming.” And why does Dominic keep saying, "Ash Rivera is mine. No one touches him…no one…except me."

Genre: Billionaire Romance / Obsession / Corporate War / Emotional Drama 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 worn 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.”

At Houston University's elite campus in Mayfair City, two worlds collide through the lives of Gerald Martinez and Danny Blackwood. Gerald, a scholarship student from the wrong side of town, navigates the marble halls in his thrift store clothes while his dark curls frame a face hardened by necessity. His worn sneakers echo differently against the polished floors than the Italian leather of his classmates. Danny Blackwood represents everything Gerald isn't—trust fund privilege wrapped in designer suits, a Patek Philippe gleaming on his wrist as he slides into his Lamborghini. The heir to a financial empire, Danny moves through university life with the casual arrogance of someone who's never known want. The catalyst for their collision is Xavier Chen, Gerald's former girlfriend who traded love for luxury when she realized Gerald's potential couldn't match her appetite for Hermès bags and Christian Louboutin heels. Now draped on Danny's arm, she's everything Gerald lost and everything Danny effortlessly possesses. Caught between them stands Naomi Ashworth, the conglomerate heiress whose friendship with Gerald puzzles their social circle. While Alice Montgomery, the school's untouchable beauty goddess, watches from her pedestal alongside Danny's inner circle—Yuri and class president Blondie—Gerald finds support in his dormitory under Rick's guidance and his loyal friend Clinton. As tensions escalate between the dormitories—Rick's working-class fortress and Ivar's white-haired kingdom of privilege—the university becomes a battleground where relationships fracture along lines of wealth, loyalty, and ambition. In Mayfair City's first-class restaurants and boutiques, every interaction carries the weight of class warfare disguised as college drama.

At the edge of Elmspire Valley, nestled within towering spires and marble halls, lies Hillstead University—a place known for prestige, secrecy, and power older than history itself. At Hillstead University, nothing is ever as it seems. Beneath the ancient stone and silver halls lies a power long forgotten… waiting to awaken. Five strangers arrive from different worlds—each carrying secrets, scars, and no idea what binds them together. Until the arc calls to them. An elemental force, older than them. A legacy buried beneath silence. And a destiny none of them asked for. As strange events unfold and danger closes in, they begin to change—each touched by a different force of nature. But power never comes without a cost. Enemies lurk in shadows. The past begins to stir. And if they don’t unite in time, the arc may tear them apart. This is the rise of something ancient. This is Arcbound.

In the heart of the ethereal realm, there was a hidden kingdom named Lún Jiāng, where the moonlight kissed the rivers and shadows danced along marble halls. The kingdom was ruled by a wise queen and her twin daughters — Princess Mò Yáo and Princess Yín Shū. They were born during a celestial anomaly — a lunar eclipse followed by a rain of ink-colored petals. Prophecies foretold that twins of shadow and moonlight would either unite the fractured realms or tear the veil between life and dream. Though beloved by the queen, the court whispered behind veils — “One is too dark, the other too bright. Together, they are too dangerous.”

Moren Ravenheart was born into wealth, privilege — and chains. Behind the marble halls of Stormhaven, she is nothing more than a pawn: a prize daughter meant to be married off for political power. But Moren is no ordinary heiress. She’s a fighter, a dreamer, and a young woman determined to forge her own path — even if it means burning every bridge behind her. When a mysterious Archfey answers her desperate pleas, Moren is offered a pact of power and freedom — but at a cost. As the gilded cage of her family closes tighter, and the shadow of an unwanted betrothal looms, Moren must risk everything to escape before her destiny is sealed forever. With blades sharpened, spells awakening, and a small band of unlikely allies, Moren will rise from the ashes of her old life to seize the one thing she’s never been given: her future.

[AUTHOR NOTE, REFRESH YOUR READING LIST, CHAPTER 45 TO 53 UPDATED AND FIXED] [Author Note: Vol 2 has started, NTR, CUCKOLD AND TABOO] All fictional characters are above 18 [WARNING THIS NOVEL IS A SEX NOVEL WHICH INCLUDES SEX CONTENT] Arthur's head hurt like crazy as he woke up. He kept his eyes closed, rubbing his temples and feeling a super comfy bed under him - definitely not his cheap mattress back home. "What the hell...?" he mumbled as he finally looked around. He was in some rich person's bedroom with a fancy four-poster bed and red silk sheets. Sunlight came through pretty stained glass windows, making red patterns on the marble floor. Everything screamed royalty - fancy mirrors, portraits of hunting scenes, and even a painting of a barely-dressed goddess that seemed to be watching him. "How did I get here?" Arthur wondered, getting out of bed. "I definitely drank too much at Mark's party last night" The last thing he remembered was almost getting hit by a car while crossing the street. Looking in a mirror, he got another shock. He didn't look like himself at all! Instead of being skinny with acne scars, he now had muscles, clear skin with just one cool scar on his jaw, with a reddish brown hair, and green eyes. "Damn, I'm hot," he said, touching the scar. For a moment, he remembered his old life. He pushed up his glasses. Kids made fun of him. Jessica laughed at him when he asked her out. "Like I'd be with a loser like you," she told him. Suddenly Arthur realized what was happening. "I've been transported to another world! Just like in those stories online!" He spun around excitedly. "I must be someone important here. This is gonna be so cool! Watch out, fantasy world, your new hero has arrived!" Right then, blue text appeared floating in front of him: [System Starting Up...] [Host Found: Prince Arthur Lionheart] [Soul Check: Person from Another World] [Magic Type: Incubus Powers Activated] "Incubus?" Arthur asked in shock. "Like, those demons that seduce people?" [That's right. Your family's magic has changed because of your Earth soul's hidden desires. Congrats on finding your true potential.] "Can I change it? I want to be a cool battle wizard or something!" [Not possible. Your soul has permanently connected to the Incubus powers. Accept it - your charm is your weapon, attraction is your shield.] "Fuck," Arthur groaned. [Exactly. The more sexual intimacy you have, the stronger you'll become.] Arthur's eye twitched. "Very funny. Just... tell me what I can actually do."

Prologue – The First Light Long before the name “Eldoria” was etched in song or stone, before demon kings cast shadows across the land, before moonlight kissed marble temples—there was only the Light. It was not sunlight, nor any star’s glimmer, but something deeper—an ancient pulse that breathed life into the world. This Light was essence, harmony, and the echo of the world’s first rhythm. From it arose the Guardians: vast elemental spirits shaped from mist, stone, tide, and wind. They guided the lands, balanced the skies, and stirred the heart of all living things. But balance is fragile. Time passed. The Guardians fell silent—some forgotten, others betrayed. The Light waned, retreating into memory, and in its absence, a new force took hold. From the void left behind, Malakar emerged—neither born nor created, but conjured from imbalance. Eyes like molten silver. Words like poison. He spread discord through roots and rivers, twisted men into beasts, and turned cities into echoes of what they once were. Where unity had ruled, he sowed conquest. Where meaning had existed, he left only hunger. Yet even in despair, the old Light stirred. A vision came to the Moon Priestesses: a figure cloaked in grief, marked by loss, who would carry sorrow not as a burden—but as a key. A child of ashes. A soul tempered by pain. His name was Kael Draven. The boy who had watched his village collapse under claw and shadow now walks a different path. Vengeance sharpened his steps. But in the gathering dusk, others joined him: a cursed mage seeking redemption, a priestess guided by visions, a warrior whose honor survived exile, a wild whisperer of beasts, and rebels who still believed in tomorrow. Together, they found something long hidden—the Artifact of Hope, a relic older than any kingdom. But its light demanded a price: memory, belief, even pieces of the self. Now, the world stands on the threshold. Malakar watches. The ancient forces stir. And the question remains: Will this light be enough to mend what was broken—or will the darkness swallow all that remains? Read the novel with picture depiction: https://bit.ly/4mYrNjd

In the city of Anuko, where filth and ruin fester like open wounds, the beast-blooded are left to rot — nameless, hunted, forgotten. Among them is a girl with sapphire hair and golden eyes, her soul soaked in cold mud and silence. She has no name, no past worth keeping, and no future worth hoping for. Until he appears. A priest clad in sunlight and silk descends into the filth to lift her from the gutter. His name is Father Calvere, and he offers her not pity, but purpose. A name: Asheniel. A sanctuary: The Thousand-Petaled Temple. A promise: that she is not a mistake, but a miracle yet to bloom. But the temple is not what it seems. Behind its marble steps and golden domes lies a pulsing mystery — one soaked in blood, faith, and something far older than gods. As Asheniel takes her first steps into holiness, she begins to unravel secrets buried beneath scripture and shadow. Why did the priest find her? What stirs within the temple’s sacred heart? And what is the true cost of being chosen? A gothic fantasy of rebirth and rot,

“Everyone warned me about him. No one warned him about me.” In the cold marble halls of Saint Nerezza Asylum, where the world buries minds too dangerous to exist, Dr. Kaelith Nyraen moves like a shadow in silk. A forensic psychiatrist with a razor-sharp mind and a history sealed behind scars, she heals monsters with detached elegance. Until she meets Patient 77. He doesn't scream. Doesn't speak. He watches. Saevus Caelum, a former cult leader once worshipped as The Mouth of Divinity. Caged in silence now, docile in appearance—but the moment Kaelith enters his cell, he comes alive. Their sessions are meant for therapy. But they unfold like seduction. And war. Saevus doesn't want healing. He wants her—her control, her pain, her buried truths. And Kaelith? She's built walls taller than this asylum’s walls. Until he starts speaking her nightmares out loud. Until he reminds her of a name she doesn’t remember—because it wasn’t given to her. It was taken. Saevus doesn’t want to escape. He wants her to stay locked inside with him. Because he never surrendered power. He handed it over—so she’d never see what he was stealing.

-- IMPORTANT NOTE!! As of April 2025, the author has given her (yes, she's a woman) life to God. She renounces any expressions documented in this novel. All humans are children of God, and although some may be gifted, it makes them no less or more important than another. Matthew 6:33 (KJV) But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and His righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you. Only God knows the future. Read the Bible. Pray. The end of times are here. -- The future of mankind rests in Noe's hands. Having faced brutal bullying throughout his life, Noe is sent to a boarding school where his luck takes a sudden turn for the fantastical. Planet Earth, 2075. Humanity is hanging by a thread after World War Three rendered the globe inhabitable. With the introduction of angels, demons and realms unknown, will Noe play a hand in saving humanity or let the humans that mistreated him burn beneath his flames? To destroy the World or save it? That is the question. Excerpt: Like a demon of destruction, Noe snaps. His vision blurs and dissipates, scattered like glass beads across cement. When he comes to, he is no longer watching the scene but is at its epicenter, soaking in a pool of purple blood, maroon cadavers strewn across the ground. Every centimeter of the hall is covered in gore - except for Mr. Henderson, whose eyes, wide-blown in astonishment... and horror, are captivated by Noe's neck. Looking down at himself, Noe sees thousands of black feathers have sprouted out from his own flesh. They tingle at the root and shudder as he breathes, as if leaves clinging to a tree in winter. Blood coats his every morsel. Springing his now grey fingertips onto his neck, Noe perceives what feels like the head of a purple hyacinth wrapped around it, its ribbon-like strands interlocking and jetting as if growing from his voice box. Touching his face, porcelain-smooth, painted by blood, marble skin appears unbreakable. It was all for first love. —- Discord: SEP1A#9769 Cover Art: raazu692 | Fiverr

Every girl has dreamed of that boy: crisp white shirts, eyes like frost-kissed glass. In the halls of Eldenwood Academy, sixteen-year-old Vivian Vaughn reigns as its velvet rebel—loud, defiant, and infamous. While the world calls her "Vivi," only Adrian Stone uses her full name, his voice a blade of ice: "Vivian Vaughn, end this childish game." She grins up at his Arctic gaze. "Make me. Be my boyfriend." "...Impossible." But Vivian learns nothing is impossible when you fight with your whole soul. He’s the ethereal genius who ignited her heart, worth every reckless leap. She’s Vivian Vaughn; he’s Adrian Stone. One day, she will be his most treasured gem. Years Later | 20 Years Old At an elite Manhattan restaurant, Eldenwood’s alumni gather. Time flips fortunes: once-timid girls now flaunt miniskirts and Louboutins, dissecting Ivy League glory. Their eyes dart to Vivian—the fallen heiress in faded jeans, exiled and broke. "Where do you work these days?" one smirks. Vivian’s reply dies as a tall figure parts the crowd. Adrian’s hand brushes hers, warm and claiming: "Darling, you forgot your phone." Silence. Someone gasps: "...Adrian?" Eldenwood’s unattainable star—now a visionary architect—has plunged into the "sewer" they scorn. Midnight | Penthouse Suite Adrian’s breath scorches Vivian’s neck. "Why not tell her you graduated from Yale before her? That you’re her senior?" His voice is gravel and velvet. She shivers, laughing into the pillow. "She was already green. Why twist the knife?" He growls, hands turning desperate— "Adrian—" "Say my name again." Vivian: She loves like a wildfire—all-consuming. Adrian: She’s his sun. His redemption.

Akashi was a boy so beautiful it seemed the gods had sculpted him with a touch of mischief and a dash of fragility. He wasn’t handsome in the rugged, masculine way of knights or warriors. No—his beauty was softer, captivating in its innocence. His frame was small, almost delicate, and his pale skin looked as if it had never known hardship, kissed only by the gentle sunlight of his village fields. With wide, striking black eyes that shimmered like obsidian under moonlight, and hair the color of a calm, endless ocean, Akashi possessed a charm that defied age, status, or reason. He didn’t know it, but his very existence pulled at the hearts of those who saw him—like an untouched gem waiting to be claimed. And yet, he had been untouched for a reason. Akashi had never known life beyond the boundaries of his village. He grew up surrounded by warm smiles and familiar voices. Every elder knew his name. Every child wanted to play by his side. His days were simple, his heart untouched by cruelty. But peace is a fragile thing. One night, it shattered. The sky turned crimson. Screams tore through the quiet air. Fires devoured homes. Demons—twisted beasts of shadow and rage—descended without warning. They killed with a hunger that could not be reasoned with. By morning, the village was gone. Ashes, corpses, and silence were all that remained. And Akashi… Akashi was alone. The last heartbeat in a graveyard of memories. He wandered for days, hollow and dazed, until rough hands seized him. Chains replaced freedom. Smiles were replaced by cold appraisals. And so, the boy once adored by all became something else—something to be sold. A slave. At the capital's grand auction house, he was stripped, washed, and displayed like merchandise. His beauty caused a stir. Whispers spread like wildfire. "Look at those eyes..." "That hair... Is it dyed? No, it’s real..." "So delicate... Is he even human?" To them, he was no longer a boy with a heart, but a prize to possess. A fantasy in fragile form. He stood on the stage, trembling slightly, barely able to process what was happening. The voices of the crowd blurred together—hungry, leering, filled with desire and greed. The auctioneer’s booming voice called out the bids as if Akashi were nothing more than a fine vase or a rare jewel. The numbers climbed quickly. Too quickly. Akashi’s knees weakened beneath the weight of invisible eyes drinking him in. He stared at the marble floor, trying not to cry. Then, suddenly, the room fell silent. A voice—deep, commanding, and heartbreakingly beautiful—cut through the air like silk over steel. “Fifteen thousand gold.” Time seemed to pause. Every head turned. At the back of the room, standing beneath the golden chandelier, was a woman unlike any other. She wore a flowing red gown that hugged her form like it was crafted by the gods themselves. Her long, golden hair shimmered like strands of sunlight, cascading over her shoulders with effortless grace. Her eyes, cold and blue as a glacier’s heart, stared ahead with quiet power. Even the nobles drew back. This was no ordinary bidder. It was one of the Princesses of the Three Great Kingdoms. Whispers erupted anew—but no one dared challenge her offer. Who would? She stood like royalty incarnate, a goddess who walked among mortals, and she had just claimed Akashi as her own. The boy raised his head slowly, unsure of whether to feel fear or relief. His eyes met hers—just for a second—and something in his chest shifted. She didn’t smile. She didn’t leer. Her gaze was unreadable. But it was powerful. Absolute. And it made his knees weak for an entirely new reason. He didn’t know her name. Not yet. But she had bought him. And somewhere deep inside, something told him—his life was never going to be the same.

Jin Mu-ryong, the disgraced heir of the Frozen Blade Sect, kneels before the Imperial Court—his hands bound in soul-severing chains, his once-proud robes reduced to bloodied rags. The Emperor, flanked by the very martial brothers Mu-ryong once called family, grins as he pronounces the sentence: "Execution for the traitor." Desperation turns to rage as Mu-ryong smashes his forehead against the floor—not in surrender, but in final defiance. The impact cracks the marble, and in that instant, a blinding summoning circle ignites beneath him, its intricate runes unlike any Murim formation. The Emperor's smirk vanishes as Mu-ryong dissolves into golden light, leaving behind only a whisper of qi and the echoing laughter of… someone else. He awakens naked and wounded in a grand cathedral, surrounded by foreign mages in flowing robes. Their language is gibberish, but their expressions are clear: awe and terror. For Mu-ryong has not been exiled—he has been summoned. The Kingdom of Luminar is losing its war against the Demon God’s hordes. Their last hope? A "Hero from Beyond the Heavens and a puppet they can control." But what they got was no hero, nor a beast to be tamed—they summoned a vengeful Murim monster.

The marble floor gleamed under Adunni’s heels as she walked deeper into the candlelit ballroom, each step cutting through murmurs and curiosity. In a room filled with silk, diamonds, and secrets, she moved like a storm in velvet. Luca DeLuca didn’t greet her right away. He stood at the edge of the balcony in a tuxedo so sharp it looked dangerous, one hand curled around a glass of wine the color of blood, the other shoved in his pocket. Those golden eyes locked on hers the moment she entered — dark, unblinking, predatory. “You came,” he said, voice a low scrape of gravel and silk. “I’m here for the artifact,” Adunni replied, her chin lifted. “Not the theatrics.” He chuckled, slow and deliberate, like he already knew she was lying. “And yet… your heartbeat’s telling me a different story.” Her pulse did skip — once. But she didn’t flinch. “Your ego’s bigger than your empire.” He stepped closer, closing the space like gravity, until she could feel his heat in the breath between them. “You know what I think, Adunni?” “I’m not interested in your thoughts.” “I think your body recognizes mine. On a level your mind hasn’t caught up to yet.” Her breath hitched, but she didn’t let it show. Instead, she held his gaze — fire to fire. “Be careful, DeLuca,” she murmured. “I bite back.” His eyes darkened, glowing faintly gold. Just for a second. Then he leaned in, not touching, just a whisper of heat against her jawline. “Good,” he said, his voice nothing but breath. “I like a woman with teeth.”

The Lion-Runed Empire When U.S. Special-Forces veteran John Sullivan throws himself in front of a speeding truck, he expects a hero’s death—not a second life. He wakes amid marble pillars, wearing the robes—and bearing the scars—of Emperor Arslan Rûmî, ruler of Asterion, the fabled “City of Light.” The empire runs on shimmering ley-lines and cryptic runes, but its throne is cracked by intrigue, rebellion, and an assassin cult that strikes beneath the moon. Armed with battlefield instincts, a lion-pommel kilij that hums with sleeping power, and nothing but guesswork about the man he’s become, John must outwit scheming viziers, mend a broken arcane nexus, and win the loyalty of soldiers who remember a very different emperor. Each victory binds him deeper to a realm that isn’t his—and to the women of a forbidden harem who carry secrets sharper than blades. But mercy is a weapon, and runes answer to will. As rebels rise and foreign powers circle, the “Lion Emperor” will forge an empire lit by justice—or watch it burn under a dusk of daggers. Portal fantasy meets political intrigue in a sweeping tale of magic, reform, and second chances. Fans of Brandon Sanderson’s Mistborn and Miles Cameron’s The Red Knight will devour The Lion-Runed Empire.

In the shadow of power, trust is a weapon. When the South Korean President retreats to a private villa for a short vacation, the nation breathes easy—until three gunshots echo across the still air and the President vanishes without a trace. The nation is thrown into turmoil. Inside the Blue House, chaos simmers beneath polished marble floors. Intelligence agencies are on lockdown. Communication is restricted. And someone is lying. Assigned to the President's personal security detail, Han Tae Kyung, a disciplined and fiercely loyal Secret Service agent, finds himself at the center of the crisis. With his earpiece cut and his clearance mysteriously revoked, he realizes this disappearance is no accident—it’s a coordinated internal conspiracy. Over the next three days, Tae Kyung must go rogue, evading surveillance from within his own agency and deciphering encrypted files the President left behind. Clues lead him into the dark underworld of politics, espionage, and an unsanctioned mission known only by its codename: Project Phoenix. As bodies begin to drop and high-ranking officials move to cover their tracks, Tae Kyung must decide who he can trust—including a former flame turned intelligence analyst and a whistleblower deep within the National Intelligence Service. The clock is ticking. The Republic is watching. And the President’s life—if he’s still alive—hangs in the balance. But in a world where the truth is classified, can one man outmaneuver the machine designed to silence him?

Alfred's grandfather has passed away. He was the one who raised him, fed him, and was his father figure in life. He left him an unassuming marble, an orb that was going to change his life. Come and see as he learns about the power of one against all, of man against nation, of deities, spirits, ghosts and the darkness of man. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Cover is not mine, if requested to remove it please message me. Thank you.

The monsoon season of Nanyang carried a humid sensuality as Liao Qiao pushed open the hotel’s carved wooden doors, only to overhear Shang Lu’s mocking sneer: “Are you following me? Still not over me?” A sharp reprimand cut through the drama. “Show some respect to your sister-in-law!” The shadow of a black shirt swept over Liao Qiao’s shoulder. Shang Yu exhaled a plume of smoke, his gaze dropping to the crumpled figure on the floor. “Take him to the Dark Hall,” he ordered, his voice like glacial steel. Liao Qiao studied the man’s chiseled profile. This was Shang Yu, the ruthless tycoon of Nanyang. He stood at the rain-soaked veranda, cigarette smoke curling around him, the faint scent of snow pine lingering in the air—a blade sheathed in elegance. Their next meeting unfolded in the underground lounge of a nightclub. Liao Qiao sipped a Mojito, watching Shang Yu stub out his cigar with a snap. “Mr. Yan requests your presence.” Before the bodyguard could finish, she sauntered into the private room. Under crystal chandeliers, Shang Lu retched into a toilet bowl while Shang Yu tapped his fingers on the marble table. “Explain the annulment yourself.” Before the words echoed, Liao Qiao leaned against the doorframe, spinning a car key between her fingers. “I heard Mr. Shang owns a Maybach. Care to lend it for a spin?” On the manicured lawns of Nan Yang Manor, Shang Yu knelt to tend to a cut on her ankle. Liao Qiao traced the mole near his eye, laughter bubbling. “So anxious, Mr. Shang? Could it be…” His hands yanked her into an embrace, his palm pressing against her wounded back. “If it hurts, bite me.” The night Shang Lu’s yacht exploded, Liao Qiao stood by the manor’s floor-to-ceiling windows, watching Shang Yu’s silhouette rigid against the lightning-flashed horizon. Thunder cracked. For the first time, she understood why her father called her “Nanyang’s curse”—she had a knack for shattering and reshaping the trajectories of those around her without rhyme or reason. When Shang Yu returned from Palma, he pressed a platinum card into her palm. “Want to see where you were born?” Liao Qiao traced the intricate engravings, finally deciphering the truth in her father’s indulgent eyes—she was never just a heiress. She was the wildfire he’d always kept burning in his palm.

Lia Martinez wasn't supposed to come back. Not to this mansion of marble floors and broken memories. Not to a kingdom where blood means everything-and loyalty means nothing. She's the heiress everyone's watching. The girl who fights when she should bow. A queen in her own right, even if the crown is cracked. Then there's Adriel Santos. Cold. Brilliant. Dangerous. A king born of tragedy, raised on power plays. His heart is locked behind light brown eyes-and a kingdom he'll do anything to protect. When fate throws them into the same storm-grief, betrayal, and a fight for the future-there's no turning back. Enemies will rise. Allies will fall. And somewhere between marble halls and rain-soaked promises, a queen and a king will either build an empire... or burn it all down.

Mc is Rahul Roi. His mother died in a act of killing. His father give him a marble and told him to ran away. He goes to city and one day awaken the power of gods. Trigger: Mental or verbal utterance of “ॐ” (Om) Form Change: Transforms from mortal to a divine warrior glowing with the cosmic aura of 18 deities Email: lucky.v.writer@gmail.com

Alexander Volkov, A man that was exceptionally proficient in several key areas in his life, Established his vast corporate empire. A man that was good at Leadership and Management. Dies and reincarnates in the past.. Will he be able to use his intellect to his advantage? Or will he fall like the others of his era.

The grand doors of Edelweiss Swordschool creaked open, revealing a vast courtyard surrounded by towering spires and the impressive silhouette of the castle. Lein stood at the entrance, his eyes wide with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty. He adjusted the cloak around him, feeling the warmth of the earring given to him by his father's old swordmaster. As he stepped forward, a hand clapped down on his shoulder, causing him to turn. A fellow student, a girl of his age with fiery red hair and a mischievous glint in her eyes, grinned at him. "Hey there, new kid! You must be Lein, right?" she said with a playful tone. Lein gave a nod, managing a small smile. "Yes, that's me. Lein von Hrunting." "I'm Elara. Welcome to Edelweiss!" She gestured to the sprawling campus. "Come on, I'll show you around and help you get settled." As they strolled through the courtyard, Elara pointed out the training grounds, the library, and the various towers where students attended classes. Lein couldn't help but marvel at the sheer scale of the school. "So, why did you come here?" Elara asked, glancing at him. Lein hesitated for a moment before replying, "My father believes I might have a talent for being a Spellblade, like him. He arranged for me to study here." "Ah, a Spellblade! That's impressive. You'll be training with the best of the best," she said with a grin. "That being said, you'll be expected to beat them if that is truly your goal." They reached the entrance of the castle, and Elara opened the door for Lein. The interior was just as imposing as the exterior, with polished marble floors and towering pillars. As they walked through the corridors, Lein couldn't shake the feeling that all eyes were on him. Elara led him to a room with a wooden door bearing the emblem of Edelweiss. "This is your room," she announced, pushing the door open. Inside, Lein found a neatly arranged space with a comfortable bed, a small desk, and a window that offered a view of the surrounding mountains. His luggage was already placed by the bed. "Your stuff arrived earlier. We've got a few hours before the welcoming ceremony, so take your time settling in. If you need anything, I'll be around." Elara said, giving him a friendly wave before heading out. Alone in his new room, Lein took a deep breath. This was the beginning of a new chapter in his life. As he unpacked his belongings, he couldn't help but wonder what challenges and adventures awaited him at Edelweiss Swordschool. Little did he know, the journey ahead would test not only his skills but also the mysterious power that lay dormant within him. The cloak of anonymity provided by the earring would prove to be both a blessing and a curse in the days to come.