Rum Knuckles

Transported to a medieval world, I became Field—a disgraced noble. I learned women here could awaken as "Chosen Maidens"—beautiful and powerful. But before I could celebrate, my cheap father and glamorous stepmother exiled me to a monster-infested wasteland! Worse? This entire empire—no, this entire world—is rotten to the core. Cruel aristocrats, cultists worshipping horrors, unspeakable monstrosities, and conspiracies lurking everywhere... all gunning for me. *Fine. You wanna play dirty?* *I quit being human!* Sister got a fiefdom a hundred times richer? **Loot it!** Brother tending sheep peacefully? **Loot him dry!** Tribes so poor they’ve only got rags? **Straight up snatch their beauties!** Elven Queen: "Where’d my World Tree go?!" Human Emperor: "Beats me!" Demon King: *Muffled sobbing* "My succubi... all gone..." Field: *Cracks knuckles* "What a miserable world. Time to clear this godsforsaken game."

꧁༺ £¥$ ༻꧂ "Yes, I've struck gold!" Richard, a middle-aged World Bank analyst turned hobo, encounters a genie—an ancient myth in the modern world. Fallen from glory, he wishes for wealth. Long past his prime, he wishes to regress in time; To the peak of his youth To be armed with knowledge of the future. Cunning, he even wishes the genie free, hoping to gain its favor. Yet the genie grins maniacally as it grants his wish. "F*ck, I've been tricked," he snarls, knuckles bleeding as he realizes where he is. Mundus—a parallel world to Earth, where countless dimensional gates bring both danger and opportunity. A modern-fantasy hybrid world where "Raiders" awaken supernatural abilities to combat threats from these gates. In a world where power outweighs wealth, Richard is rich... but powerless. Endowed with riches as vast as a nation's treasury, he forges his own path—buying what should have been impossible: the power of an Awakened. Here, his wealth becomes his magic as he awakens a unique class: Moneymancer. It seems he has everything figured out. His boundless fortune is enough to challenge fate itself. Yet the genie still grins—an eerie glint in his eyes—as he watches the pawn move across a universal chessboard…

Kenji Tanaka is the new transfer student at Seiryu High, a school ruled by fists and fear. With his average looks and quiet demeanor, everyone dismisses him as another sheep for the slaughter. They see a loser. A nobody. A twig that will snap under the iron boot of the school's hierarchy. They are wrong. Raised in brutal, solitary isolation in the mountains by a mysterious grandfather, Kenji's 'training' was a hellish regimen of survival. He doesn't understand society, girls, or why people flinch when he cracks his knuckles. He also doesn't understand that his 'normal' strength is enough to shatter bone, his 'basic' endurance can outlast a beast, and his very presence carries an aura that makes apex predators tremble. He believes he is weak, a novice who has barely scratched the surface of his grandfather's teachings. But when the wolves of Seiryu High come for the innocent girl in the desk next to him, they don't awaken a sheep. They awaken a monster. A god of combat. A King. This is not a story of a hero. This is the story of a Thug, his rise to absolute power, and the loyal followers and adoring women who are drawn to his terrifying, untamed might. In a world of delinquents, gangsters, and underground fighters, there is only one rule: Don't mess with the quiet kid. Because this King's fists don't know mercy.

"I don’t remember who I was before stepping onto that pirate ship... And maybe I never want to remember." Raised among torn sails and the salty scent of the sea, I found in a pirate crew the only family I ever knew. Years passed, and my hardened heart believed that adventures and battles were all I needed... until he appeared. A mysterious nobleman, with eyes that seemed to hold all the secrets I had forgotten. His scent was different — it didn’t smell of rum and sweat, but of memories I insisted on burying. “Where have you been all this time?” he asked, as if he knew me better than I knew myself. Torn between the instinctive call of my omega body and the need to keep my secrets buried, I have to decide: face a past I’ve always run from... or keep sailing without looking back.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he murmured, brushing a knuckle over her lower lip. “I’ll forget we’re pretending to be civil and fuck you on this table with your enemies still in the room.” He killed her brother. She married him anyway. Nadya Vasiliev made a deal with the devil—for protection, for power, for her niece’s future. To get close enough to destroy Alexei Romanov—the man who tore her family apart—she created a contract and became his wife. A marriage of revenge, nothing more.  But Alexei is no ordinary enemy. He’s powerful. Controlled. Wickedly seductive. And he knows she’s lying. Nadya is playing the long game—seduction, manipulation, revenge. But the deeper she gets, the more dangerous the game becomes. Her heart wasn’t supposed to be in this. Her body wasn’t supposed to burn for his touch. Everyone knows once you dance with the devil… You either bring him down or fall to your knees. The smut will be smutting. I’m exploring how freaky my brain can get. Gimme ideas and gifts lovelies.

Xu Nuan, died brutally at the tender age of 20. She was extremely resentful of her death. That b**tard killed her unjustly after her value was drained. She sacrificed her whole life for that person and the results??!!! "Hah, Do you think you can escape?? I will take your very existence to the hell with me" She smirked and with the petrified face of that person she blasted the whole building. When Xu Nuan opened her eyes, she was confused, 'Didn't she die??' But to her surprise she actually transmigrated into novel she read recently. She became an cannon fodder whose space became golden figure for female lead. "Heh, now that I am here let's see how she dares to take this space away" said Xu Nuan as her eyes darkened. So, with the space and system in her hands let's see how Xu Nuan became overpowered boss in last days. ***** Little Theatre ****** Xu Nuan : AHHH, Let me go brother, I am killing this b**tard today!! *Infuriated* Nuan's Brother : *Hands her gun* Here go-ahead sister I am here to back you. *Smirks* Han Chen : F**k, Xu Cheng!! *Cursed at Nuan's Brother* *Looks at Nuan with pleading eyes and tenderly* Baby, Forgive me okay?? I was wrong, I was wrong. Xu Nuan : *Cracks her knuckles* *Throws gun aside* *Smashes her fist towards Han Chen* Han Chen : Damn, that hurts *Cursed under his breath yet holds her in arms* Okay, I am sorry. Forgive me my little ancestor. said in gentle yet helpless tone. Xu Nuan : *Snorts* Humph! Today I forgive if you dare to mock me, you are dead!! Xie Cheng : *Eyes dimmed* What a pity. Han Chen : *Glares at Xu Cheng* ******** Protagonist: Xu Nuan , Han Chen

Reiji Kazama, a 17-year-old delinquent with bruised knuckles and a shattered heart, is known across Mishiro High for his short temper and constant brawls. He doesn’t trust adults, doesn’t care for grades, and his motto is: “The world hits first, so I hit back harder.” But one rainy afternoon, after another fight gone sideways, a woman offers him her umbrella and gently wipes the blood from his cheek. Her kindness is like a foreign language to him. He doesn’t realize she’s his new substitute homeroom teacher—Asuka Minazuki, 26, warm as sunlight, with a soft laugh and a five-year-old daughter named Yume who calls Reiji “Punch-kun.” Thrown into unexpected class dynamics, childish mischief, and late-night heart-to-hearts, Reiji finds himself falling for a woman who’s everything he isn’t—gentle, patient, and full of light. But Sensei has scars of her own. And loving someone like Reiji may bring more pain than peace. Can a boy who only knows how to fight… learn to protect what he loves?

When Earth was suddenly wrapped by a colossal root known as the World Tree, humanity discovered a brutal fantasy realm hidden inside—complete quests, stats and deadly trials. Few failed and returned back to earth. Fewer survived it and proceeded. Ahrie Von Creed, One of the strongest trainees in terms of combat ability ever recorded in history, enters the World Tree ready to blaze through his trial… Unfortunately, his assigned Ent was out on a coffee break. By the time the Ent returns, the trial is nearly over—Ahrie is casually patching himself up with first aid. The Ent blinked at the scene. “Ohhh, a healer!” the Ent said, marking it down without a second thought. Class Assigned: Healer Skill Unlocked: [P.A.I.N.] – Physical Aid Initiated by Neutralization A high-impact healing skill. The stronger the hit, the faster you recover. “You're a healer?” “Yup.” Ahrie cracked his knuckles. “Stay still.” “WAIT, WHA—” “Activating [P.A.I.N.] — Physical Aid Initiated by Neutralization.” “...That doesn't sound like healing—” SMACK! “...HUH?!” “I—I’m healed?!” He’s not holy He’s not gentle. But he will keep you alive— If you can survive the treatment.

Lorenzo est réincarner dans le monde de marvel avec un système multipliant par 1Milliard la quantité ou la qualité de ce qu'il touche ou reçoit. Suivez la montée vers la toutes puissances de Lorenzo lorsque chacun s'efforce à devenir plus fort en s'entraînant, en inventant ou autre lui devient plus fort grâce aux objets qu'il reçoit Bracelet en or et diamants multiplié par 1M lingot d'or multiplié par 1M Sérum capitaine america multiplié par 1M Armure d'Iron man multiplié par 1M Pistolet Laser Extraterrestre multiplié par 1M pierre de l'infinie multiplié par 1M

"The water choked him, the cold seeping into his bones. His mind, usually so sharp, fractured into a thousand desperate thoughts. He saw her face above him, contorted by a primal rage, and in his final, suffocating gasp, he knew. Not just an opponent. A predator. He tried to speak, to beg, to curse, but only a gurgle escaped as darkness claimed him. His last thought, a chilling realization: She was more monster than detective." In the rain-slicked streets of Owerri, I live a double life. By day, I'm Detective Elise Blackwood, bound by the law, navigating a system that often fails the innocent. By night, I become a ghost, a weapon forged by a mother's murder, hunting the powerful Network – the city's corrupt elite who operate above all law. They stole my past; I'm here to tear down their future. Every stolen ledger, every breached server, drags me deeper into their deadly game, transforming me from hunter to the hunted. My knuckles ached, the water cold as ice, as I forced him under. This wasn't just justice. This was survival. And a promise kept. I've walked through fire, made impossible choices, and faced betrayal from every angle. Now, as I close in on their elusive financial architect, Pierce M., the man whose secrets can finally bring their empire crashing down, the true cost of my war reveals itself. The truth about Pierce is far more devastating, far more personal, than any nightmare I could have imagined. My pursuit of dark justice is about to collide with a betrayal that will redefine everything I am.

The demon’s roar was a monstrous sound, shaking the rain-soaked streets like an earthquake. Its form twisted and writhing, a grotesque fusion of jagged horns, sinewy muscles, and eyes that burned with ancient hatred. It moved with terrifying speed despite its size, each step cracking the ground beneath like thunderclaps. Kaito felt the familiar rush of adrenaline as the air around him thickened, charged with his wind magic. His grip tightened on his sword, the blade shimmering as swirling gusts danced along its edge. The air whispered to him, bending to his will. “Stay close!” he barked to the others, eyes locking on the demon’s glowing core. That’s the weak spot, he thought. If we hit it, maybe we can end this quickly. Ren laughed—a manic, fierce sound that echoed over the storm. “End it quickly? Where’s the fun in that? Let me add a little fireworks to the party.” His pistols flared, flames licking out like twin dragons unleashed. Haru’s pale eyes flickered as he calculated the demon’s patterns. “Its movements are irregular—unstable. But it’s anticipating our attacks.” He stepped forward, hands weaving through the air, as if pulling invisible strings. “We’ll need to synchronize our strikes.” Daiki’s deep voice rumbled like the earth itself. “Then let’s bring the mountain down on it.” He slammed his fists to the ground, and the earth trembled. Cracks spiderwebbed across the cobblestones, rocks levitating with slow, deliberate power around his knuckles.

Galaxy Ascendant In a far-future utopia where brilliance—not birthright—opens every door, nineteen-year-old Alex Novar is quietly certain of only two things: his photographic memory and his restless desire to do something that matters. When an elite aptitude test reveals he’s a one-in-a-trillion prodigy with latent psychic potential, Alex is drafted into a dazzling academy that forges the galaxy’s future leaders. Under the watchful mind of Celeste—an AI companion installed directly in his thoughts—Alex hurtles through zero-gravity duels, neural-VR crisis drills and white-knuckle hyperspace jumps, all while learning the hardest lesson of all: power means nothing without purpose. But as he masters telepathic focus and multi-tier navigation, a rogue intellect lurks in the network’s shadows, hijacking nanotech systems and sowing chaos across the stars. Tasked with unmasking the threat, Alex must leap from top cadet to frontline guardian, teaming with a rival-turned-ally, a shy tech savant and his steadfast AI to confront a bitter genius determined to shatter the very meritocracy that discarded him. The showdown will test the limits of Alex’s newly awakened abilities—and his belief that hard work and hope can still light the darkest reaches of space. Blending pulse-pounding action with Sloan-style optimism, Galaxy Ascendant rockets from first-day jitters to interstellar intrigue, leaving readers breathless for the next horizon beyond the final page.

With a bottle of rum pressed to my lips, I take a big drink letting the burn relax me. My eyes are bloodshot, and my heart is broken. My time without Zare is full of pain and misery, not knowing what she is doing with AB's vampire clan. This is a short story told from Chetan's point of view. It falls between the first and second books.

“What is it?” Sylteena crooked her head as she watched the tall beast before her slowly look away. “Nevermind…” “Nevermind?” She blinked twice. “You are clearly in a bad mood. You have been like this since yesterday evening because of something, how can I not mind—” “I want to do it.” “Do it? Do what?” Sylteena was far too confused about the beast who obviously was acting off throughout the whole day, carrying a somewhat pouty expression. Again, he responded with the long silence he had been snubbing her with since morning. Sylteena was losing patience. “What exactly do you want to do?—” “To make you make those sounds… The ones we heard yesterday at the bar restroom...” Sylteena’s eyes widened. The breeze and trees seemed to have stilled to eavesdrop of their conversation. Sylteena then uttered in disbelief. “Y- You want to make me… M- Moan?…” The beast shielded the side of his face with his large palm. “Do not be so loud about it…” • • • “W- What are you wearing?!” Anthony exclaimed. “A dress, Your Highness,” Sylteena curtsied. Anthony’s eyes skimmed across the deep wide neckline of the silk dress that clung to her figure. His eyelids forgetting how to blink. Did she add weight?… His gaze failed to bear shame as he outlined her figure, thinking to himself… In those specifics places? How come he never noticed... “You can not wear that abomination to the Ball!” His voice was curt and unapologetic. “But, Your Highness, why not—” “No.” He‘d be damned if he let her step out into their Royal carriage in that. Anthony gulped, knowing fully well she might not make it to the Ball with a piece of clothing on by the time the carriage reaches there… His knuckles turn white. • • • In the Sorcerer Kingdom, where magic is the normal way of life and living, Sylteena Benedict, the supposed “Cursed one”, said to be the origin of the kingdoms catastrophes, has her misery of a life takes an abrupt shift when she is selected to marry the crown Prince by divine powers. Unfortunately, her marriage is to the enigmatic Prince Anthony — One who bears a dark secret that is the root of his ruthlessness. As she navigates the treacherous landscape of court politics and family feud, Sylteena discovers a beast in the forest who challenges everything she thought she knew about love and loyalty. Torn between the ruthless prince and the mysterious creature, Sylteena must choose her path and confront the true nature of her heart's desire. - "Where humanity and beasthood blur, love becomes a perilous puzzle."

The world of magic and piracy Twenty-two-year-old Adina Storm was a mighty soldier from the King of Layora’s army, strong, determined, she was right where she wanted to be. Until the king’s brother had been killed. Now a suspect, Adina flees from the kingdom with no other choices before her. To make her life even more complicated, she stows away on a pirate ship who later found her amongst their stash of rum. She bargained her case with their captain, who was intrigued by her determination and granted her a chance to prove herself. However, twenty-three-year-old Jay Arkul, the first mate, opposed the idea. With a target on her head and a burning glare in the back of her skull, will she manage to clear her name and go back to her old life as a soldier, or does fate have other plans for her? Only time at sea will tell her all she needs to know.

***“Drakon—” “Say it again,” I growled, biting the lobe of her ear. Her real name for me, the one she’d whispered the night we'd spent together in New Orleans—not “Dragon,” but the Creole curse that meant storm-bringer. She gasped, her hips grinding against me. “Asshole—” I groaned, capturing her mouth once more. The kiss was a match to kerosene, igniting a fire that threatened to consume us both. Her hands fisted in my hair, lips parting with a gasp I swallowed whole, a taste of lemongrass and rebellion. She tasted like rage and every bad decision I’d ever craved—and Dios mío (My God), I was drowning in her. *** --- In the swamp-rotted heart of Alabama, Drucilla Drakes survives by two rules: stay silent, stay scarred, and never let Louise—her Bible-thumping, belt-wielding captor—catch her hoping for more. But when a schoolyard ambush leaves her bleeding under a stranger’s leather jacket, invisibility becomes a death sentence. Enter Dragon Morales, New Orleans’ most notorious runaway—a cartel prince turned outlaw mechanic with gasoline-stained knuckles and a bounty on his head. He doesn’t do heroics; he does survival. But when he finds Dru in a ditch, her back lashed raw and eyes blazing hellfire, he sees a mirror of his own damned soul. And he can’t look away. Their bond is a lit fuse. Dragon’s father—Colombia’s cartel kingpin—wants Dru dead. Louise, armed with voodoo rituals and the wrath of Marinette, the loa who feasts on chaos, wants her broken. The only allies? The Lou Nwa, a bayou biker gang trading in bullets and black magic, and Papa Legba, the crossroads spirit who offers Dru a deal: “Her soul or yours.” But the bayou’s traps are relentless: - Dragon’s father hunts his son with a price on his head. - Big Danni, Dru’s estranged uncle and Lou Nwa leader, demands loyalty as his gang fractures. - Marinette’s magic twists allies into puppets, their strings slick with swamp rot. And then there’s Dragon—hands that mend engines and break bones, lips that taste like whiskey and run. He swears he’s too ruined to love her. Dru knows she’s too shattered to let him. But in the swamp’s choking heat, where bullets sing and loas whisper, desire is a grenade neither one can dodge. As they blaze through the Deep South’s underbelly—cursed bayous, cartel blood feuds, and safehouses reeking of betrayal—they’ll face more than bullets. Dark magic seeps into old wounds. Family secrets unravel like nooses. And the line between protector and predator shatters. Dru doesn’t need saving. She needs fire. And Dragon? He’s got a lighter, a death wish, and a heart that won’t quit beating for her. **Warning:** This is not a fairytale. It’s bayou smoke and switchblade kisses, saints and sinners colliding where the road meets the ruin. Contains graphic violence, explosive passion, and a love story that burns hotter than a Molotov in a meth lab. Will they raze the South to ashes? Or become the sacrifice the crossroads demands?

Shiro isn’t here to save the world. He’s here for coin, rum, and maybe revenge. After a one-night stand leaves him robbed blind, he sets off on a mission. Not just for his money, but for something deeper: a chance to flip the middle finger to the world that spat him out. But when strength meets circumstance, and rules start to bend, Shiro is dragged into a game he didn’t ask to play… and he’s about to play it on his own damn terms.

As Mia drove through the bustling city streets, her heart began to race—not from the traffic, but from the chilling knowledge that a bomb had been planted in her car. The news had come through a frantic message on her phone, a warning from an anonymous source that sent her spiraling into a state of panic. She gripped the steering wheel tightly, her knuckles turning white as she fought to maintain control. With every red light, her dread deepened. She knew that the moment she stopped the car, the bomb would detonate. The thought of leaving her Lysander behind filled her with a profound sense of sorrow. They had so many plans, dreams of a future together that now felt impossibly distant. With trembling hands, she picked up her phone and dialed Lysander’s number. “Mi Amore?” Lysander’s voice came through, laced with concern. “What’s wrong?” Mia smiled sadly, he could always tell when something was bothering her and yet she was going to leave him. “Lysander , I need you to listen to me,” she said, her voice quivering. “ You’re a very great person. I never thought I would find this type of love. I only thought love like this was just a fairytale. But you….you….” Mia paused taking in a deep breath. “Anna? What’s happening? Is something wrong? You’re scaring me.” Tears rolled down her cheeks as she turned her head towards the backseat where the bomb sat. How could she tell this to Lysander? She was going to die and leave him. She was going to leave him alone with the thoughts and dreams they shared. Silence hung heavy on the line, and Anna could almost hear the rapid beating of her heart. “I just found out…… I… I don’t have much time,” she choked out, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry, love. I won’t be able to see you again.” “Don’t say that! We’ll figure this out! Just tell me what’s happening? ” he urged, desperation creeping into his tone. “No, please, just listen. It’s too late now. I love you so much, and I want you to remember that. You’ve made my life so beautiful. I wish I could hold you one last time.” Her voice broke as she fought to keep her composure. “Anna, don’t—” “I have to go, Lysander . Just know that I’m always with you.” With that, she hung up, her heart shattering into a million pieces. She looked at the cliff ahead of her and stepped on the gas, the car racing towards the cliff. ************* In the heart of a bustling college town, twenty-year-old Anna Mia Harper is juggling classes, bills, and a growing sense of despair as an orphan navigating life on her own. Desperate for cash, she stumbles upon a peculiar job listing: a grave cleaner and companion for the dead at the local cemetery, promising a month’s rent for just one night of work. Excited by the prospect, Anna Mia arrives under the eerie glow of the moon, ready to face whatever the night may bring. But when she encounters a mysterious man lounging atop a tombstone—one who bears a striking resemblance to a deceased local legend—her heart races. Is he a ghost, a trick of the light, or something more sinister?

Reborn as the Ultimate Tycoon Genre: Urban, System, Revenge, Harem, Slice-of-Life Jack wakes up in his old apartment, the dingy, cramped space that he once called home a decade ago. The familiar musty scent fills the air, and the thin, worn-out mattress creaks beneath him. His heart pounds as he struggles to make sense of what he’s seeing. "This... this is my old apartment?" Jack mutters, running a trembling hand through his unkempt hair. He touches the cold wall, the peeling paint flaking off at his fingertips. His eyes scan the room, landing on the outdated flip phone resting on the small bedside table. "No way..." he whispers. With shaky hands, he flips it open. The date reads April 15th, 2025. "I was killed in 2035. How the hell am I back here?" Memories of his brutal death flood his mind. The betrayal of his wife, the smug grin of Derek as he delivered the final blow, and the cold sensation of his life slipping away. "Derek... Lisa... You bastards!" Jack clenches his fists, his knuckles white with rage. But amidst the fury, a sudden, mechanical voice echoes in his mind. [System Activated: Welcome to the Ultimate Tycoon System v2.0.] Jack’s eyes widen. "System?" [Initializing...] A translucent screen materializes before his eyes, filled with lines of data and digital text. [Mission Activated: Secure a valuable asset that can generate income within 7 days.] [Reward: Beginner’s Business Insight skill.]

Ken was nobody. A kid with bruised knuckles, a cracked smile, and dreams too big for his small hands. But fate has a wicked sense of humor. When a forgotten blade of ink and soul awakens in his grasp, Ken is thrust into a storm of blood, brotherhood, betrayal — and a darkness desperate for a new vessel.

When the seventh toll of midnight shuddered through the air, Adam’s knuckles cracked with a sickening pop. He clenched a blood-soaked leather glove between his teeth, watching his irises bleed from amber to feral green in the grimy mirror. This marked his 109th full moon in this alien world—a world where the lycanthropic curse clung to his bones like a parasite, yet still, against all odds, had not devoured the last shreds of his humanity. Three years ago, Adam had been nothing more than a corporate drone in a cubicle, debugging code under fluorescent lights. Everything changed when a subway explosion hurled him through a vortex of flames. He still remembered the surreal moment his hand phased through molten steel, plunging him into a void streaked with violet auroras. When he awoke, he was curled in an iron cage etched with glowing runes, the verdict of his trial echoing in an unfamiliar tongue: “Otherworldly beast—banished to the Evernight Citadel.” The Citadel—a gargantuan fortress suspended above an ocean of clouds—was humanity’s final bulwark against the abyssal horrors below, and a prison for all non-human races. Adam learned to hide the silver wolven markings snaking up his neck beneath scarves, surviving as a black-market peddler in the slums, trading salvaged electronics from his old world. Every full moon, he retreated to a derelict altar in the catacombs’ third layer, chaining himself to a stone sarcophagus. Amid the searing pain of claws rending flesh, visions haunted him: a crown of burning cogs floating at the heart of the cosmos, like a deity’s discarded relic. “That’s the Soul Crown,” rasped One-Eyed Maggie, the fortune-teller, her cigarette smoke curling around Adam’s sketch of the vision. “Legends say it can tear reality itself… but the Grand Inquisitor shattered it into seven fragments three centuries ago. They’re hidden—” Her words died as steam-powered airships roared overhead, searchlights from the Citadel’s enforcers flooding the alley. The first corpse appeared the night Adam infiltrated the Central Library disguised as a janitor. The victim hung from the bronze statue of the God of Knowledge, a dagger of volcanic glass embedded where his heart should have been—a ritual execution reserved for lycanthrope traitors. By dawn, the Evernight Gazette blared headlines: “Wolfkin Terror Attack—Citywide Curfew Enacted.” The true nightmare began on the third full moon. Adam awoke in the catacombs to snapped chains glistening with another’s blood, his fist clutching a shred of fabric stamped with the Inquisition’s sigil. Worse, fractured memories surfaced: a masked man in a rain-lashed clocktower, pressing a shard of light into his chest. “Your veins hum with the Crown’s resonance,” hissed a nocturnal elf assassin materializing from shadows, her cloak embroidered with wisteria patterns that mirrored the auroras of Adam’s transit. “The Inquisition is dissecting every wolfkin alive—and you’re their prime specimen. Unless we claim the other fragments first.”

DO ADD "Llaellen's Updates" BOOK IN YOUR LIBRARY TO GET THE LATEST UPDATES ABOUT MY PLANS FROM HERE ON OUT 'The famous mister truck strikes again.' A joke in her mind turned to reality. She thought that the famous mister truck would remain on those novels and anime's she had read and watched. But when it was her turn to have the chance in going back in time, she made a vow to mister truck. 'Okay mister truck, since you gave me a second chance I will make sure that this time I will succeed.' ***** This is the typical story of her being hated by the male lead. She was hated because he and his love couldn't be together for the fact that she and he ended up getting drunk one night and woke up beside each other the next day, NAKED. Indeed, cliché... It was only later that she found out that it was actually a plot of his mother who didn't like his lover for being poor and believes that she was a heiress. Once again a cliché route... But alas she was not, she was disowned by her family and had lived on her own for long. Don't get her wrong, she wasn't a villainess. She was simply trying to fulfill a promise. Now that she has the chance, she still chose to continue trying to fulfill her promise in this second life. What can she do? She was a stubborn person. But this time she has no plans on failing. She will... SAVE HIM... A cliché route? Nope not at all... Because she was not the cliché female lead either... ***** "Yes, yes, I am already tired of that as well. Don't worry I am stopping now, mama's boy." There was mock in her tone and he couldn't help but to turn red in anger. The phone in his hand was gripped tighter, his knuckles turning white. "You-" "Good bye, mama's boy." *BEEP BEEP* This was the very first time he became furiously speechless towards her. ***** When she opened her eyes, she saw him towering over her. "Hmmm isn't it that sleeping beauty will see the seven dwarves once she opens her eyes? Why am I seeing a giant?" He frowned at her words. At the same time she did. "Were there any dwarves in sleeping beauty?" ***** "It's the wicked witch, here to bully cinderella?" Then she muttered, "Oh no, I think that does not match. Was there a witch in cinderella?" The mother was gritting her teeth in anger while she contemplated on the story of cinderella if there was a witch in it. ***** "Do it." A gun was pointed at her temple but her eyes focused on his. She said only two words but her eyes were saying more. 'Trust yourself for you can do it.' She even tilted her head a little to the side without the gunman noticing. Now with only a space with the size of a pingpong ball, he aimed his gun. If he shoot that pingpong ball sized space perfectly, the man will die. If he don't then she will die. When he wavered and turned to look at her eyes, she was actually smiling and mouthed, 'You will be able to save me.' *BANG* *UPDATES DAILY* Do read my other stories: SHE'S THAT KNIGHT KNOWN AS ZERO (COMPLETED) VENGEANCE TO THE ROYAL ONES (COMPLETED) COMING FOR THE LAST FOURTEENTH (COMPLETED) RESTARTING CHAPTER BOOK FINALE (COMPLETED) VERACITY OF THE PAST (REUPLOADED ON ETSY - JUST LOOK FOR "Llaellen") CHAINS LIFTED: HER SECOND ACT (ONGOING) LLAELLEN'S UPDATES (NEVER ENDING) Disclaimer: Cover photo not mine... Please message me if I needed to change it...

"HER SECRET IS A KEY FOR HIM." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ She's hiding her identity, and he's finding his parents. She's a spy, and he's a business tycoon. How did they meet? What happened to them after their first meeting? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Ann is alive, Granny!" John exclaimed, embracing his grandmother with a surge of joy that filled the room with warmth. John squeezed Granny Ria tightly, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing around him. Tears glistened in her eyes as she clung to him, grappling with the weight of a truth she could scarcely bear to share. 'How can I possibly tell you, John?' Granny Ria worried silently. As John released his grandmother, his gaze darted to the living room, where two faces he recognized yet barely recognized stared back at him. A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he contemplated the tension in the air. Memories flooded back—joyful teenage years brimming with laughter and love from his parents. But now, the happiness he once knew was eclipsed by a tightly clenched fist, his knuckles pale and tense. He turned sharply to Granny Ria, a fierce determination in his eyes. "Why are they here? I told you, Granny, I don’t want to see them!" he demanded, his voice echoing with unresolved pain. Granny Ria raised a hand, yearning to comfort her grandson, but he recoiled, knowing her allegiance would tilt towards her son and his wife. "Why the hell have you come back? You always show up right as I find my happiness! Just leave me alone!" John shouted, anger seeping from every word. His mother's eyes glistened with unspoken sorrow as she longed to reach out to him, to embrace him before he could push her away again, fearing he would reject her for the fact she sat in a wheelchair. With a heavy step, John’s father rose from the sofa and approached his son, who had shut his eyes tightly, emotion crashing over him like a wave. In a moment that evoked both fear and tenderness, John’s father enveloped him in a fierce hug. John, overwhelmed by the tidal wave of emotion, broke down, sobs pouring out like the rush of a storm. For the first time in years, he cried like a child, his father’s hand soothingly rubbing his back, a faint hope kindling in their shared moment. The day stretched endlessly for the Evans family, heavy with unspoken words and fractured bonds. After what felt like an eternity of tears, John blinked away the remnants of his grief and turned to his father, desperation in his voice. “Ann?” His father met his gaze, flooded with helplessness and compassion. Frozen in place, John surveyed the people who surrounded him—his father, mother, and beloved grandmother. Words escaped him as he turned and walked away, each step echoing the weight of his heart. The air hung thick with unspoken truths, and the night was just beginning. Stay tuned to know what happens next. ~~~~~~~~~~~•••••••••••••~~~~~~~~~~~~ MY OTHER BOOKS:- ~ Loving You With Everything I Have ~ Queen Of Darkness ~~~~~~~~~~~•••••••••••••~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three days before the engagement, Richard Vanderwoodsen abandoned Windsor Luna and flew to Paris, merely to comfort his "depressed" mistress. That night, the proudest rose of Manhattan got drunk at a top - notch bar. She stopped a passing financial tycoon and said, "Mr. Black, how about getting engaged to me?" The entire upper - class society in New York knew that Richard was the Achilles' heel of Miss Windsor. When everyone was waiting for this socialite to bow her head and admit her mistake, she quietly signed a prenuptial agreement and became Leonardo Black's legal wife. When they met again, the once arrogant young master Vanderwoodsen had lost his family inheritance rights. He cornered Luna on the terrace of a charity dinner, his voice hoarse. "I regret it. Give me another..." Before he could finish, a hand with distinct knuckles had already wrapped around Luna's waist. Leonardo swirled the champagne glass in his hand, his ice - blue eyes glinting with cold light. "Sorry, my wife is allergic to cheap perfume - especially the kind stained with someone else's tears."

In the corridors of Bellmare High, chaos is a way of life. Beneath the polished facade of academics and clubs lies an undercurrent of power struggles, secret alliances, and bitter rivalries. This is where Miguel Reyes, a sharp-witted, street-smart teenager, steps into the spotlight-a boy with a troubled past and fists that speak louder than words. Known for his devil-may-care attitude and unmatched fighting prowess, Miguel thought he had seen it all. That is, until she walked into his life. Meet Alessandra "Andi" Moretti-a girl with a face too angelic to be true and a lineage that strikes fear into the hearts of the bravest. The only daughter of a feared mafia boss, Andi arrives at Bellmare High with a mission of her own, and she's determined to keep everyone at arm's length. But destiny has other plans, and Miguel-Bellmare's most infamous troublemaker-becomes the one person who refuses to play by her rules. As tensions rise, Miguel and Andi find themselves caught in a whirlwind of fights both on and off the school grounds. From rival gangs waging turf wars to secretive groups vying for dominance within the school's underground fight club, every battle brings them closer together-and closer to unraveling dangerous secrets that threaten to upend their lives. But this isn't your typical romance. For every stolen glance, there's an enemy lurking in the shadows; for every laugh, there's a bruised knuckle. Miguel and Andi must navigate a labyrinth of trust, betrayal, and unspoken truths, all while grappling with a connection that feels as explosive as it is forbidden. Bellmare High is not for the faint of heart. It's a battleground where love clashes with survival, and loyalty is a weapon. *"Battle Grounds of the Heart"* is a high-octane rollercoaster of emotions-a story where humor, heartbreak, and action collide, leaving you breathless and craving more with every chapter.

Kuga bares the sign of the panther. The tootheless sign, a mouth with eight missing insiscors. Kuga is a Sagittarius Earth-Dragon. He met all three requirements, it means his life essence can subvert the curse of the Makilla. Les, all the panther maidens at the age of 23 lose their humanity to panther beastiality for the rest of their life's, like their mothers before them. However, something happened to Kuga, when his mate claimed him. He wasn't supposed to die from the bite of his mate. Yes, he died from the bite, marking the birth of different kind of beast, a Hybrid. Lord to the panther-maidens who were on the verge of turning to panther for all time. First of his kind, an Alpha. Kuga is back with only, one mission; Vengeance! Doom to his Nemesis, the monster that made him! *****†****†****†****** Slow bend, but steaming and bursting with life experienced through the world of a Maverick protagonist. This book is worth your time!... Consistent Updates, absolutely guaranteed. *******************†*****†***************** #Mates#twistedlove#romance#blood and trauma# Sensuality# sexual cultivation# guns and hard knuckles# maybe something to laugh about..... Kudus to readers, authors and wednovel. *****************†********†**************** NOTICE: Vol 1; although, the story is in 1st POV, these Maverick, cunning, mischievous characters in their covetous habitats are fictitious. Vol 2; Marks the death of Kuga and his Metamorphosis to a panther. This transition, shift the 1st POV to 3rd Person Point of View. Hop in let's have fun on this ride together.

The elevator stank of burnt wiring and adrenal sweat. Lucas Hayes came to consciousness with his cheek pressed against cold steel, the floor vibrating with the machine's perpetual ascent. A cracked display panel flickered: DAY 9 | SAFETY DURATION 00:03:44. Three warped tones echoed as the system imprinted directly onto his retinas: [Precognitive Matrix Activated] [Sector Transition Imminent] His vision fractured into augmented reality overlays. Bloodshot eyes darted between floating diagnostics: [Destination: Floor 248] Threat Classification: Standard Biohazards (Homo corruptus) x20 Recommended Arsenal: Bladed weapons (76% efficacy) Reward Manifest: Silver Cache (Full eradication required) Lucas gripped the shock-baton strapped to his thigh, its ceramic surface still smeared with luminescent fungal spores from yesterday's skirmish. The elevator's speakers emitted a decaying piano chord as new text scrolled through static: [Destination: Floor 249] Containment Unit: Obsidian Reliquary (SCP-XXXX Variant) Threat Level: White (Placid) His boot tapped rhythm against the floor where Natalie Evans had bled out seven cycles ago. The memory played in crystal clarity - her screams syncing perfectly with the elevator's current pitch-shifted rendition of Clair de Lune. [Destination: Floor 250] Entity Designation: Noctis lamia (Cognitive Hazard Class C)* Survival Probability: 41.2±18% The control panel erupted in fractal patterns as reality glitched. Lucas glimpsed William Carter's skeleton key lodged in the emergency brake slot - the same key that had melted through three layers of Kevlar when its owner died. "Beta protocol. Always beta." He smashed blood-crusted knuckles against the floor selector. The elevator screamed in harmonic resonance as it deviated from its programmed path.

In his previous life, Lucian Sinclair had pursued the truth behind his fiancé Malcolm Fitzgerald's fatal car accident with relentless determination - only to meet the same grim fate beneath the twisted metal of his Bentley on a rain-lashed M25 motorway. When consciousness returned, the industrialist found himself thrust back to his 24-year-old self, the digital clock on his Mayfair bedside table blinking December 16th, 2016. Malcolm's Alpine skiing accident had already occurred three days prior. He promptly took legal guardianship of the brooding 15-year-old left in the wreckage - Finn Fitzgerald, Malcolm's half-brother through their father's second marriage. The boy Lucian remembered from charity galas had grown feral-eyed, all scraped knuckles and boarding school blazers gone threadbare at the elbows. This time, Lucian vowed, the boy would receive proper upbringing. Not out of affection, but as penance for never deciphering Malcolm's last encrypted text: "Tell Luce the Range Rover's brakes—" Finn initially regarded his guardian with wary deference, this icy aristocrat who wore his brother's signet ring on a platinum chain. "Malcolm said you collect Renaissance maps," the teen offered during tense dinners, pushing peas across Wedgwood china. "Malcolm told me you hate tulips." Each invocation of the dead man's name hung between them like altar smoke. Yet gradually, the dynamic shifted. Lucian caught Finn glaring when he traced the Fitzgerald jawline they shared. The boy began arriving late from Eton weekends, reeking of stolen whiskey and defiance. During one particularly vicious row over a shredded Oxford acceptance letter, Finn slammed Lucian's wheelchair against the study wall. "Why must I be his ghost?" The teen's breath fogged the cold glass of Malcolm's portrait. "You look at me like I'm some...some flawed taxidermy of your perfect banker boy!" Lucian's cane clattered to the hardwood. Perfect? Malcolm had been laundering funds through their engagement - a truth he'd discovered two lifetimes too late. Now this living, breathing Fitzgerald heir stood before him, all cracked leather satchel and mismatched socks, demanding to be seen. Outside, the Thames glittered with secrets. In the cellar vault, a dossier gathered dust - crime scene photos, offshore account records, and the Range Rover's brake lines sliced clean through. Lucian's fingers twitched toward the whisky decanter. Let the dead keep their mysteries. This Fitzgerald needed saving more.

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