Deeo Throat

HEED MY ADVICE, TO ALL WHO WILL LISTEN, THE FURY OF A WOMAN WHO LIVES ON REVENGE, EVEN IN THE FACE OF DEATH, IS A RECKONING THAT SPARES NO ONE. The Dukedom Heiress Luella Van-Rensselaer thought that by doing everything her family needed, she would have the beautiful and loving family she had always wanted. However, she ends up getting betrayed by her own twin sister and her fiancé. Having gotten fed up with her family and how badly they had put her through, Luella wishes for death, which her sister gives to her as she ends up dying in the hands of her sister and fiancé. Finally, finding the peace she had always wanted, she wakes up to when she was eighteen (18) years old as the funeral service of her father. And now filled with nothing but rage and memories of her past, she now aims to destroy the entire dukedom with its name. The Van-Rensselaer dukedom will end WITH her and BY her. ~+~ A MAN WHO LOVES HIS WOMAN WITH NO POWER OR WEALTH IS NOTHING BUT A DREAMER; BUT A MAN WHO LOVES HIS WOMAN WITH POWER AND WEALTH IS A PROTECTOR, WORTHY TO BE BY HER SIDE. And that was what Grand Duke Ozed Rhinelander was. A man who went to war for his woman, accumulated wealth for his woman, lives for his woman. And he would kill for his woman. When Luella decides to take revenge on her family, she goes to one person she fully trusts. ~+~ ~Fragment~ "Do you want this?" His voice was low, almost a growl, but there was a hint of something else beneath — something that made her heart skip a beat. She swallowed hard, her throat dry. The question hung in the air between them, heavy and tangible. "I… I don't know," She finally answered, her voice barely above a whisper. His lips curled into a smirk, a slow, dangerous smile that sent shivers down her spine. "Liar" he murmured, his voice a deep rumble that vibrated through her. "You want this. You want me." She opened her mouth to protest, to deny it, but he didn't give her a chance. His hand shot out, gripping her chin roughly, forcing her to look up at him. "Do you want me to prove it?" He asked, his voice dripping with challenge. ~+~ Tags: #Revenge #Strongfemalelead, #norape, #reincarnation, #Fakeidentity, #EdwardianEra, #VampireRomance #Smut #Supernaturalpowers #magic #darkfantasy #long-distance pining (The main characters are aware of each other's feelings but can't be physically be together yet. IN THE BEGINNING CHAPTERS). ~+~ Cover is mine. DO NOT USE ____ @AR

He grabbed my throat hard and pinned his gaze on me. I gasped, astounded, feeling as if my neck was impeded by chains. His very dim eyes intimidated me so bad I felt I could die. His chilly breath fanned my face. He was cold, his skin felt grossly cold but I felt more hurt from his grip on my neck. He was choking the life out of me, I couldn't even make a high sound as he had seemingly suppressed my vocal cords with his hold. ~~~ Princess Almira was captured into Sihasin after an enemy kingdom invaded into her home kingdom, Perston. Now a slave, she faced incredible sufferings but yet still became the fifty mistress of his royal highness, King Luther — A king so astute but yet so seemingly ruthless and sadistic. Love bloomed between them however, but with the strong need to escape and take back her father's kingdom which Luther had conquered, will she fight over her heart or let love take its lead? [NOTE: THIS IS A SLOW BURN ROMANCE BOOK (⁠◠⁠‿⁠◕⁠) COVER NOT MINE]

Ingrid Dolph, a lowly she-wolf happens to be in her ripe age of locating her mate. And it was during this time that the rumor about a dragon egg spread like wildfire and everyone was asked to hunt for it. Whoever finds it will have a greater share and unbelievable privileges. Excited for the hunt, Ingrid takes part in it with the motive of finding it and bargaining for its blood and scale. But as fate would have it, she didn't just find it but that same dragon turns out to be her mate. ***** ~{SNEAK PREVIEW}~ The closer I got, the more I realized it was a full grown naked man. What? A man? How was the dragon a man? Suddenly I growled and groaned as my body grew hot by just the sight of him. What was wrong with me? Could it be that my wolf side was affected by the dragon because of the smell of its blood? Disregarding the fact that he was naked, I approached him and my breathing became labored as my senses heightened to an intense level I never knew possible. “Who would dare do such a thing to him!” I angrily said aloud and that was when his eyes opened, causing my breath to get caught in my throat. He was breathtaking! His lashes were white and they shimmered while his iris were gray in color. “Ingrid,” he breathed out my name and my eyes widened in wonder at the fact that he knew my name.

Helen settled in the living room, the silence heavy like an unwelcome weight. The only sound in the room, the soft ticking of the wall clock, reminded her that time was going—time she no longer wanted to count. Her mind a mist of thoughts, she subconsciously followed the edge of her coffee mug, her fingers fluttered slightly. None of the questions gnawed at her throughout the long, sleepless night could be answered. \n \n She had only arrived from the hospital early that morning. The doctor's words pulsed in her mind like an unusual symphony: *You're pregnant, Helen. Your baby is now. The child was not anybody's kid. This offspring was Jack's. She ought to have felt something, should have been elated, but she did not. No happiness came from the news. Not today at all. Not after everything that had turned out. For months now, Jack had withdrawn. At first there were minor indicators—forgotten anniversaries, the sudden late work hours, the missed phone calls. But everything changed when she discovered the lipstick on his shirt collar, the one that was not hers, the one she was sure didn belonged to anyone he worked with. He didn't even attempt to hide it. Though he was not one to be totally truthful either, Jack was not one to fib. \n \n The door banging wide open disrupted her thinking. \n \n Jack's fists clenched at his sides in the doorway, his face red with fury. Once warm and love for her, his eyes were now cold and free of any compassion. "Helen," he howled, his voice cutting, "I want a divorce." The words stung her as a slap to the face. The way she felt she knew everything came undone was as if the planet moved below her. Her stomach turned and her heart pained. Things were not meant to be like this. Her trust, her love, her dedication she had provided him. And still, here he was saying she is over. Jack waited not for an answer. His eyes on hers, he tore into the room. He appeared more furious than she had ever seen him. "I'm seeing Jane," he snapped out, as though he had just revealed a new line of sneakers. Your worst enemy. the one who really knows how to make me happy. Helen is better than you. She is more sensitive, finer, and more affectionate. She truly pays attention when I speak; not like you." \n \n Helen's throat clenched as she fought to consume the lump of bitterness rising inside her. Jane? The idea of it made her stomach turn with a combination of shock and treachery; this very same Jane with whom she had been loved for years? How might Jack accomplish this? How could he betray her with the one person she trusted most? Jane wasnuggested completed. "You at most can't give me a child," he went on venomously. "I maybe do not even know why I am still here. For years you have been infertile. I must not continue living like this. I need someone who can provide me the future—someone who can fulfill me. Helen blinked, his words piercing her heart like stings. She opened her mouth to talk, to justify herself, to describe how she had exhausted every means to conceive, but the words caught in her throat. It was pointless. Jack had his mind fixed. Already left, he would not change no matter what she said. \n \n Her lips released a cold, derisive laugh, a hushed sound that sounded like it echoed all over the otherwise quiet room. "You believe it is that simple?" she said, her voice full of feeling trembling. "You believe you can simply discard everything we have developed because you found someone else? Simply younger, simply prettier, simply someone who can give you children?" Jack's eyes stiffened, his jaw set, and he walked a step toward her. Absolutely. Whenever first person pronouns are used in sentences, I respond. I have had it with you, Helen. There is no need for me to justify myself. Simply sign the documents. It has come to an end.

It hurts, my hole body, my head. My hand went to my throat, there too equally hurt as much. And next came my air… it went fast, faster than I could even imagine, my lungs felt out of air, and it was only a matter of time, did I process to breath in. My awaken had been so peaceful I forgot to breath… My awaken? I looked up, and saw I had fallen right in front of a mirror, my hair covering my pained and distressed face, my heart pounding like before, and my hands digging into the carpet to my group. What happened? What happened? What happened? Nabie Reigns?! The door knob twisted, an old looking lady walking in, and her face hold the same distress mine did. Mother… “Nabie dear… your late for school.”

After meeting an unfortunate death on earth, Sigrid unwillingly transmigrated into a novel world becoming Lady Sigrid Thorin the unwanted wife of the crown prince. She resigned herself to her fate and set a goal to become the empress. But to become the future empress, she had to gain the heart of her husband_the foul tempered Prince Roland Maximus a man that loathed her and would sooner kill her than kiss her. While his heart was too thin for her to squeeze into, it was rather wide for the woman he brought home on returning from a three month expedition, a woman he had sworn to protect forever. The same woman Sigrid was on a mission to destroy, an irreconcilable enemy. With misunderstandings, scheming and jealousy, thus begun Sigrid's trials to win the heart of the man that had undeniably captivated her with his dazzling smile and her mission step over the fake female lead, be crowned empress and change her fate. Excerpt. "A knife to the throat of your husband that has just returned from war, what do you hope to accomplish crown princess?" Sigrid's eyes trailed down, to the silver blade pressed against her abdomen, she raised her head and laughed snidely. "A knife to the belly of your wife as soon as you return from war, other men start by saying, honey i am home. They also don't bring home unwanted canaries as presents for their wives." Roland leaned down with a part smug and part angry smoldering look in his eyes. It was if he wished to set her on fire, and not in the passionate way. "Honey i am home." he slowly said, dragging the words out. Sigrid trailed the knife slowly over his neck, almost as if she was caressing it with her fingers. "Welcome back, i hope you don't mind but i intend to kill that canary. If you want to bring me a gift next time, try gold and diamonds. I can also accept you, just wrap a ribbon around your bare chest."

Twenty-eight year old Delilah Sterling, has perfected the art of being a respectable realtor by day, and a professional gold digger by night. Delilah believes she has her double life under control. Her meticulously crafted life crumbles when she wakes up one morning with a wedding band on her finger, a marriage certificate on the table, and a sinfully gorgeous man claiming to be her husband. To make matters worse, he is broke and jobless, making her feel trapped in a surreal nightmare. Desperate for escape, Delilah demands a divorce, but the stranger—insisting he wants to stay married—thwarts every attempt. Frustration and confusion mount until Delilah hatches a new plan: she proposes they team up to con her next target, the elusive billionaire, Hunter Quinn. What Delilah doesn't realize is that her "broke husband" is actually Hunter Quinn himself. Billionaire CEO, Hunter Quinn, having discovered Delilah’s intentions to con him, had decided to outplay her at her own game. Hunter agrees to the partnership, and together they plunge into a high-stakes game of deceit. As they plot and scheme, the lines between pretense and reality blur. Their forced proximity ignites an unexpected chemistry, leading to moments of vulnerability and genuine connection neither anticipated. Caught in a whirlwind of deception, passion, and power plays, Delilah grapples with their growing feelings. As their con deepens, she must confront the ultimate question: Can she open her heart to love and trust again? ****Exerpt**** Delilah’s eyes darted to the marriage certificate again, the official seal glaring back at her. Her fingers itched to tear it apart, to make this nightmare disappear. But deep down, she knew that wouldn’t change anything. “I don’t remember,” she whispered, more to herself than to him. “I don’t remember any of it.” Blake nodded as if he had expected this reaction. “That is expected. You had a lot to drink last night.” he fished out a phone from the back pocket of his trousers, opened it. “Here, this is us celebrating, after we got married last night,” he said, showing her a picture. Delilah’s breath caught in her throat as she stared at the photo. It was indeed her. “How?” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I don’t remember any of this.” “It was a wild night,” he said softly. Perhaps she had married Blake because he was wealthy. That would be the only logical reason for her to make such a blunder. There was hope, she thought, as she clung to the possibility of salvaging something from this disaster. Turning to him, she forced a smile, “Is this your house? Are we in your house?” She asked, looking around the bedroom. Blake shook his head, “No. This is a hotel,” he said, and she nodded. “I see. It looks like quite an expensive hotel,” she observed, “What do you do for a living?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady as she searched his eyes for any hint of affluence. Blake hesitated, his confident demeanor faltering for the first time. He looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m... in between jobs,” he stuttered, avoiding her gaze. Delilah’s heart sank, disappointment crashing over her like a wave. “In between jobs?” she echoed, her voice tinged with disbelief. Blake seemed to sense her dismay. “I know it doesn’t sound great,” he said quickly, trying to reassure her. “But I’m working on a few things. I just need a little more time.” “You’re jobless,” she muttered to herself as reality sunk in. “How did you pay for this room? For the wedding bands?” She asked, and he winced. “I didn’t. You did,” he said, and she collapsed on the bed. (PS: Cover photo isn’t mine. Credit to the real owner)

"Run, little angel." His voice is smooth, edged with danger—soft enough to make her shiver, firm enough to make her obey. Ariel tries to move, to escape, but something unseen holds her in place. She fights against the invisible chains pressing into her skin. But he's already there. Behind her. In front of her. Inside her mind. "You can't leave. Not now. Not ever." His fingers brush over her trembling lips. Heat coils around her wrists—his magic, his control—binding her without a single chain. "Say my name, Ariel. Whisper it. Scream it. Curse it." His breath is hot against her throat. "But you will never forget it." She gasps, his words sinking into her, wrapping around her like a promise she never agreed to. Then, he smiles. "Good girl."

"You have no idea, Alliana, how long I've been waiting for this," Carlos said, grabbing my throat and pinning me against the wall. My exhalation became stuck in my throat as I felt his lips inches away from my neck. "You tested my patience the moment you walked inside my mansion and gave me that attitude. But now that I have you in close contact after spending weeks in prison," Carlos said before slipping a finger inside my panties, "you're mine." Carlos Andrés Romano is a powerful mafia lord in Rome, Italy. He gets his way whenever and wherever he wants. Unfortunately, he gets into legal trouble and requires immediate assistance. Alliana Mercedes is a fantastic lawyer in Ontario, Canada, who is determined to get her clients out of prison. After a difficult meeting and her refusal, Carlos orders his men to kidnap her in order for her to assist him. Alliana is reluctant at first, but she considers the money she will receive, but Carlos has other plans for when Alliana gets him out of there. What is Carlos' plan for her? This story contains plot twists, sexual chapters, and side problems!

Samantha never expected to find magic in her hometown, let alone in a dimly lit bar on a rainy Tuesday night. Yet here she was, perched on a barstool at the Black Swan, her world about to tilt on its axis. The air thrummed with an otherworldly energy she couldn't quite place. Ethereal dancers moved like smoke across the floor, their bodies fluid and mesmerizing. As Samantha nursed her drink, she felt the weight of curious stares prickling her skin. That's when she saw him. Marcus. A name she didn't know yet, but one that would soon be etched into her very soul. Their eyes locked across the crowded room, and Samantha's breath caught in her throat. He moved with predatory grace, all lean muscle and barely restrained power. Their first interaction was as intoxicating as it was bewildering. One moment, he was her gallant protector, rescuing her from an overly aggressive drunk. The next, his eyes hardened to chips of ice as he snarled, "Stupid girl," before melting into the shadows. Samantha's mind reeled, but her body hummed with an excitement she couldn't explain. Little did she know, this encounter was merely the first step into a world beyond her wildest fantasies – a realm where vampires ruled the night and pain blurred exquisitely with pleasure. As she delved deeper into this hidden society, Samantha found herself drawn to the intoxicating blend of power, submission, and supernatural allure. The crack of a whip, the whisper of leather, the exquisite sting of fangs – each sensation pushed her boundaries and ignited desires she never knew existed. But with every ecstatic high came the sobering reality of danger. Vampire politics were as deadly as they were intricate, and Samantha soon realized she was a pawn in a game where the stakes were life, death, and eternal servitude. As she left the Black Swan that night, Samantha couldn't shake the feeling that she stood on the precipice of something life-changing. She had no idea how right she was, or how deeply she would fall into a passionate, dangerous dance with forces beyond her imagination. The real question was: in this world where pleasure and peril intertwined so intimately, would she emerge empowered... or lose herself completely?

[Warning: Mature content, R-18, Sexually explicit content. You can also skip the prologue if you want to jump straight into R-18 chapters.] LISTEN UP, YOU THIRSTY DEGENERATES! YOU THINK YOU CAN HANDLE THIS SH*T? Forget all that watered-down, fairy-tale bullsht you’ve been spoon-fed. You still here? Well, guess what—you’re about to step into a world where the only rule is to fck sht up and survive. You got demons crawling out of hell and humans so degenerates, they’d trade their own mother for a shot at power. This ain’t no noble quest, it’s a f*cking bloodbath—and you better be ready to get drenched in it. Here’s what you’re about to dive into: • Demons so fine seductive they’ll make you forget what’s right or wrong—who cares when evil looks this damn sexy? • Humans? Hah! They’re more fcked up than the demons! You think they’re the good guys? Guess again, dipsh*t. They’re here to carve out their own slice of hell, and they don’t care whose throat they gotta slit to do it. • Battles so savage, you’ll be choking on blood—if you’re lucky. If you ain’t? You’ll be crawling through the mud, beggin’ for someone to finish you off. Spoiler: They won’t. • Lust? This ain’t romance, you dumb fck. This is raw, filthy, boner-breaking need. Warriors in the heat of battle, ready to fck or kill, sometimes both. And trust me, they don’t care if you watch. "Holy sh*t, I don’t know who’s worse—the demons or the humans!" — Some pervert who thought he was ready for this trash fire. THINK THAT’S IT? HELL NO, YOU DIRTY BASTARD! • Twists so fcking brutal they’ll rip your soul out and use it for target practice. • Choices so fcked up you’ll wish you never had to make ‘em—but guess what? Nobody cares what you wish for, bitch. • A world so black, so hopeless, even the demons are lookin’ for an exit—and there ain’t one, motherf*cker. FINAL WARNING: This ain’t a story for the weak, the clean, or the sane. We got gut-wrenching violence, straight-up vulgar dirty f*cking, and choices that’ll make you puke. If you ain’t down to get your soul violated, turn around and get the f*ck out. This is the point of no return. #DemonsWantBloodAndAss #WuxiaWithZeroF*cks #MoralityIsForTheDead #ThisIsYourNewHell Disclaimer: This story will ruin you. Side effects include sleepless nights, uncontrolled boners, and the overwhelming urge to f*ck, fight, and die all at once. Proceed if you got the balls for it—or not. Cover Art AI Generated.

A festive day, a week have the kingdom of Polestin celebrated for their victory with the crimson general leading their army. The soldiers who served have been guaranteed a spot inside a local bar of the capital city. Clank! "The Crimson General despite being a woman is a talented warrior! Three cheers for the general!" "That woman saved me when I needed it! All hail the general!" "She's like a sister to all the soldier! All hail our general!" Every warrior kept on drinking as the news reached them that the war with their neighboring kingdom was over, the ruler raised their white flag as they asked for mercy- being beneath the crimson general. "General! Come drink with us!" "..." The Crimson General, for how she got her name is because of her crimson hair that became the trademark of her legendary name already spreading across the many kingdoms. "I don't drink." she denies the invitation her comrades and just sat down on the table watching the others enjoy themselves. "Enjoy, general! You might even find a man here that suits to your liking! You know... your type I think...! The general would love a soft-spoken man!" "...No." "Hah! That's a shame! In any case I heard that you'll be receiving a reward for helping win the war!" "A reward... I wonder what could it be." ... The reward: "You can choose any of my children to marry you. I have the finest royal princes for you to choose. That is my reward." The King motions to his left side showing his sons who smiles, sitting in their throne meeting her gaze.. "Eh?" "My liege, forgive me but this is..." "Are my children not good enough for you? General, I applaud your accomplishment. Isn't marrying into the royal family a good enough reward for the general?" The King asked the general who swallowed the lump in her throat looking at the princes in display. "I choose-!" Everyone stopped and waiting for the girl to continue. "I choose the princess instead!"

Being the only human in a school full of supernatural beings is hard. But being fated to the son of the Alpha your father killed? That’s a death sentence. ******** Carnemore Academy was never meant for someone like Claire: the daughter of a head hunter who used to kill supernaturals in the past. But when the peace treaty between hunters and supernaturals start to crack, she’s sent straight to the heart of danger— a school where everyone hates her and wants her dead. No one despises her more than Zane Wolfe Ravenscroft, her mate and the son of the Alpha her father murdered. And then there’s Caius Valerius, a vampire prince who should hate her just as much, only he doesn’t. And Lorien Feyrune, the Fae prince with a shattered heart and dangerous obsession. As Claire navigates the dangers of Carnemore and her complex relationships, more secrets about her father is revealed. Now, she must choose. Duty or desire? Family or fate? Love or survival? Because in Carnemore, secrets are deadlier than silver bullets. And some bonds were never meant to be broken. ************* Claire barely had time to catch her breath before Zane was in front of her, his golden eyes locked onto hers like a predator closing in on its prey. “Why are you all over the place with Caius?” He asked. Claire crossed her arms, forcing herself to hold his gaze. “Because he’s my friend,” she said, though the moment the words left her lips, she saw the way Zane’s jaw tensed. “Friend?” He took a step closer, the space between them shrinking to nothing. She swallowed. “Why do you care?” His lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “You can’t have friends.” Claire’s breath hitched. “Why?” Zane leaned in, his voice a whisper against her skin. “Because you’re mine.” Her stomach flipped, her nails digging into her palms. “You rejected me,” she reminded him, her throat tightening around the words. “You didn’t want me, remember?” “That doesn’t change anything.” Her heart pounded. “It changes everything.” He reached up, brushing his fingers against her jaw, tilting her chin so she couldn’t look away. “You don’t get it, do you?” His voice was softer now, but no less dangerous. “You’re my toy, Claire.” His thumb grazed her bottom lip, sending a shiver down her spine. “And I’m the only one who gets to play with you.” ************ This book is rated 18+. Fantasy Romance Morally Grey ML Smut Bullying Violence No Reverse Harem

"Young people often fall for the wrong people, and I guess my wrong person was you." Morana, a young lady, who was treated cruely by her family, unwanted by the society, was assassinated by her husband and her supposed step-sister. "Even if I had to crawl out of the depths of hell, I would return. I would make them pay for every lie, every betrayal, every moment of agony they had inflicted on me. And when I did, they would know the full weight of my wrath." Those were her last words before she succumbed to darkeness. But she never expected to be given a second chance at life. "Three hundred and sixty-five days. That is the time you have to carry out your revenge. If you succeed, your soul will be free to move on. But if you fail..." My throat tightened. "If I fail?" The being’s glow darkened, and its voice echoed with finality. "You will cease to exist. Your soul will turn to dust and vanish, leaving no trace of you in any realm." What happens after she exhaust one year, even if she succeed in seeking revenge?

|| To all the readers who are grieving over Caelestis Lanister’s death. I deeply apologize but this character always deserved death in my eyes of justice. Although he was a good leader, a good friend, probably a good son, yet he was never a good friend or boyfriend to Stella. Even after going through all his sins, if you still sympathize with him. I have an offer for you. Would you like to change the destiny of Caelestis Lanister? Yes/No|| A translucent blue window appeared in front of Eleanore, who had just opened her eyes in a strange white place, after meeting her end in a Traffic accident. Eleanore finds herself in a new world, with a mission to change the destiny of her favorite character from a book she had recently read, "Revenge is her only desire." Tired from her daily struggles, she was ready to venture into a new life of the rich, but to her dismay. She finds herself in the body of the villainess that dies in the first chapter of the novel, who shares the same name as hers, Eleanore Sinclair. Moreover, the day she enters into her body is the day she gets killed by Caelestis for harming his lover, Stella. Eleanore binded by the system that guided her through in her mission of changing Caelestis’ fate, realizes that the system favoured Stella over her. She struggles to keep herself alive, while working on Caelestis and Stella's relationship. As she tries to save Stella from the obsessive grasps of Caelestis, she finds herself getting entangled with the notorious villain. As tension and hatred between them rises, a love blooms between them which gives nothing but pain in return. The male lead being her own brother, will she be able to save Caelestis which is no longer her mission but her love? _______ “Lies!” he spat again, his voice rising. “I will kill you, Eleanore. If you ever try to do that to her again, I will kill you.” His words cut through her, burning with hatred and fear. Anger surged within her as she fought against him. She had never intended to hurt Stella, not once. The blame lay with the original owner of the body, not her. Why must she listen to these accusations? “I have no such intentions!” she shouted at his face, gasping to find breath. “Let me go!” Her foot lashed out, kicking him in the thigh, but he quickly pinned it down as well. Exhausted from her useless struggles, Eleanore realized she had to gather her strength and then perhaps bite off some skin from his handsome face. “You are just an obsessed man,” she snarled. “You don’t know how to treat a woman. You’re killing her!” Before she could finish, Caelestis silenced her with a violent grip around her throat. His hand tightened around her neck, cutting off her breath. Her wrists were free, but now her neck was caught, and every breath became a struggle. Panic surged through her as she struggled to find, her nails digged deep into at his arm in a desperate attempt to free herself. Caelestis’ true nature had finally appeared in front of Eleanore, and it scared her. She had already been afraid of him, but now the fear felt like it was gripping her very soul. Note: This is a dark fantasy romance novel. A war between Love and Obsession.

They call him Ling A’Xian, a hostage prince, a pawn in a war he never asked for. But that is not his name. Not truly. Han Ziyao-- a name whispered in the void, a past too distant to grasp… and a love that refuses to fade. In a world where fate is rewritten with every life he steps into, Han Ziyao has long abandoned the illusion of control. He transmigrates without warning, wakes in unfamiliar bodies, and plays whatever role the universe demands of him. But amidst shifting identities and fractured timelines, one thing remains constant—him. And the man who always finds him. Tonight, that man is the Crown Prince. And Ling A’Xian is pressed against a glazed partition, his breath unsteady as gloved fingers trace the curve of his jaw. “Running again, A’Xian?” The prince’s voice is velvet and steel, his golden eyes unreadable in the candlelight. “I’m beginning to think you enjoy being caught.” A’Xian exhales sharply, forcing a smirk despite the way heat surges within his stomach. “And I’m beginning to think you enjoy the chase.” The prince hums, his grip tightening just enough to make A’Xian’s pulse stutter. “Perhaps. But tell me…” He leans in, the warmth of his breath ghosting over A’Xian’s lips. “What will you do when there’s nowhere left to run?” A’Xian doesn’t answer. He can’t. Not when the prince’s gloved hand is slipping lower, not when the space between them is vanishing, not when he’s dangerously close to forgetting that this isn’t love—it’s obsession. And yet, as soft lips brush against his throat in a mythical promise, he wonders if, in this life, he’ll be the one to break first. Because some bonds, no matter how many lifetimes pass, are never meant to be severed.

Arakawa Hajime, a world-renowned detective infamous for his impeccable record of solving the most complex murders, abruptly announces his retirement. In his final press conference, he promises a sensational autobiography — one that would only be published after his death. The next day, Arakawa is found dead in his study, his throat slit from ear to ear, his own fingerprints on the murder weapon. The day after his death, his publisher reveals the autobiography's chilling title: "How I Committed Murder and Framed the Innocent."

As acid rain corrodes the skyscrapers of New York City, Luna, a convenience store clerk in Kansas, finds herself a post-apocalyptic “savior” with the last 5,000 cans of beans in the state stacked in her underground warehouse. The sociopathic, blood-sick, cockroach-shy 24-year-old is forced to establish the rules of her new world with tin cans and expired candy: Want food? Trade secrets. But when marauders point guns at her glass door, a swarm of mutant voles gnaws at the shelves, and survivors begin to question “why the Savior is a dumbass who's never even been in love,” Luna finally raises the crowbar to her betrayer's throat: “Now, get down on your knees and call me God. ”

I am your Prince!" "And I am THE Princess!" She said with fire in her eyes, anger fuelling her words. She had promised herself to remain civil with him but his words had pushed her over the edge once again. "You are not my prince. We share a title, we will share a throne but that's as far as it gets. I do not care if you're a man, I do not care for your stupid ideas and I do not care for your stupid army. The next time you cross me, I will not hesitate to slit your throat." He took a menacing step closer to her after she finished. "Is that a threat?" He said trying to coax her. She smiled and took a step closer until he could feel her breath on his face. "No. It's a promise." Twenty-two year old Analeigh Dafidi found herself world changing for the better when she got chosen as the rightful heir to the throne, despite her less than ideal background. Due to the kingdom's unique situation, she has to marry a man from the rival house, as they are to share the throne to keep the kingdom's continuous prosperity. Her new fiance seems to hate her guts, most of her family members are against her ascension and she still has to prove herself to the royal court. Her journey, as a ruler and as a spouse, is filled with mystery, betrayal and sizzling tension that makes her feel like she's being held down in a stream of constantly flowing, torrid waters. She pushes ahead of each setback with determination fitting for a queen, little does she know, there's more treachery lying in wait for her.

James was a hustler who'd succeeded in retiring early, only for the pandemic to ruin all of his plans. He spent two years locked up inside playing video games and watching movies, only to be spiritually abducted just as the situation started improving. Now his name is Jin and he's a part of the Illusion Room Sect. A cultivation sect that creates scenarios for combat-focused cultivators to hone their skills. In other words, fully immersive video games. Will the gaming knowledge of his past life help him succeed in such a cut-throat world? Will he manage to break his two-year pandemic induced dry-spell? And most importantly, will he ever manage to surpass the rank of cannon fodder?

Joonwoo stood there, frozen in despair, as the King of North India dragged his daughter away from him. he saw the tears streaming down her face, and he felt his own eyes welling up with tears. As he watched, helpless, the King of North India grasped his daughter's arm and pulled her away, his face twisted in anger. The Princess of North India stumbled, her feet struggling to keep up with her father's pace. he felt a surge of rage and desperation. he wanted to rush forward, to grab the Princess of North India and pull her back into his arms. But he was frozen in place, unable to move or speak. As the King of North India dragged his daughter away, he felt a sob rise up in my throat. he tried to hold it back, but it was no use. The sob burst forth, and he felt tears streaming down my face. he stood there, crying like a child, as the Princess of North India disappeared from view. he felt like his heart was being ripped from my chest, like he was losing the only person he had ever truly loved. His father's voice was distant, a vague echo in his mind. "Joonwoo , come," he said, his father's hand on his shoulder. "We must leave." But he couldn't move. he was rooted to the spot, his eyes fixed on the empty space where the Princess of North India had last stood. he felt like he was drowning in a sea of despair, like he would never find my way back to the surface. Jun Joonwoo( king of half of the korea , Bukhan to Deagu )

[Trigger Warning: Mature Content] They say the Silvermoonlight Masquerade changes fates. It did for Lydia Ashford too, but she lost more than she gained. In a world where strength defines worth, she was wolfless, but she refused to be weak. With beauty that shimmered like stardust in the midnight sky and a mind as sharp as a dagger, Lydia was a name spoken with both awe and envy. But admiration was never enough. She forged her own path, honing her combat skills, proving her intelligence, and standing beside Theodore Sinclair, the Alpha’s son, through every challenge. If she could not shift, she would rise in every other way. The Masquerade should have been another step toward securing her future. Yet fate had other plans. One sip of wine. One moment of weakness. One stranger’s touch. And everything she built turned to ash. The man she trusted turned his back on her. The pack that once praised her cast her aside. And the child growing inside her became her only reason to survive. Banished. Forgotten. A name only whispered in shame. Yet, Lydia did not break, she endured. Five years later, she returns—not as the girl they discarded, but as a woman ready to reclaim her life. But fate is not done with her. Because the man who marked her as his? The one who unknowingly fathered her child? He’s standing right in front of her. And this time, he’s not letting her go. ...... The glass hovered near her lips.  "Drink," Nickolas commanded, his voice rough with hunger.  Lydia obeyed, parting her lips as the rich, red liquid flowed onto her tongue. But before she could swallow, his mouth was on hers—hot, demanding, merciless.  The wine spilled between them, sliding over her lips, down her chin. But he didn’t stop. He deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping inside, stealing the taste straight from her mouth, devouring every shaky breath she tried to take.  By the time he pulled away, she was trembling.  His fingers tilted the glass. A slow trickle of wine spilled onto her collarbone, rolling between her breasts, gliding down her stomach.  The moment the first drop touched her skin, his mouth followed.  His lips grazed the delicate curve of her neck before he dragged his tongue along the slick trail of wine, chasing every drop as it slipped between her breasts. His teeth scraped her skin, and before she could react, he latched onto her, sucking deep, his tongue flicking and teasing before his mouth sealed around her hardened peak.  Lydia arched beneath him, her hands fisting into the sheets as heat coiled low in her stomach.  "Nickolas," she gasped, her voice breathless, desperate.  He groaned against her skin, his grip tightening on her waist as he sucked harder, the wet heat of his mouth sending pleasure pulsing through her veins. He alternated between sharp, aching nips and long, slow strokes of his tongue, drawing soft moans from her lips. "Messy," he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction as he pulled back just enough to watch her squirm beneath him. His fingers traced the path the wine had taken, slow, possessive.  Then his lips brushed lower, over her navel, his breath a sinful caress against her heated skin.  He smirked against her. "I thought your laughter was the most beautiful sound to my ears…" His fingers slid between her thighs, teasing, coaxing, pushing her to the edge without giving her what she needed.  Then, with a slow, deliberate bite against her inner thigh, he whispered, "Until I heard your moans."  A sharp gasp escaped her lips as he kissed her again, his hands gripping her hips, holding her right where he wanted.  "Nickolas," she whimpered.  He chuckled darkly, his lips trailing back up her body, lingering at her throat before he spoke against her ear. "I could get drunk off you."  Lydia swallowed, her body burning, her thoughts unraveling.  But deep down, she already knew—she was the one drowning. 

“You’ve been researching for years with nothing to show for it. Why not try something else?” Samia’s tone was sharp, but there was a thread of concern beneath it as she leaned against the doorframe. The room smelled faintly of sterilizing agents, and the rhythmic clicking of keys filled the silence. Dr. Elias didn’t respond immediately. Dressed in his lab coat, he stared at the screen with unwavering focus, his fingers flying over the keyboard. When he finally turned to her, a slow, almost unsettling smile spread across his face. For a moment, he looked like any other scientist lost in his work—until he blinked. The motion was unnatural, his eyelids sliding horizontally across his eyes like a lizard’s. “Samia,” he said, his voice calm but electric with excitement, “I’ve figured it out. This time, it will work.” She opened her mouth to respond, but he was already on his feet, moving past her with an urgency that demanded she follow. They made their way through the sterile corridors of the facility, the fluorescent lights overhead casting a cold glow on the walls. The reinforced chamber was a stark contrast to the rest of the building. Thick steel doors hissed as they opened, and the hum of machinery grew louder as they stepped inside. In the center of the room stood a massive contraption—a web of wires, tubes, and blinking monitors surrounding a sleek, cylindrical core. “What is it this time?” Samia asked, her arms crossed tightly against her chest. Dr. Elias didn’t answer. Instead, he moved with practiced precision, attaching cables and adjusting dials. The air felt heavier here, charged with the anticipation of something monumental—or catastrophic. “Get your goggles,” he said at last, stepping behind the protective glass. He tapped the side of his goggles, the lenses catching the faint blue glow of the machine. Samia hesitated. She had seen him fail before. Years of promises and miscalculations had made her wary, but there was something different in his demeanor this time—something unsettlingly confident. Reluctantly, she turned and jogged back to the lab to retrieve her goggles. The first explosion hit when she was halfway down the hall. The floor bucked beneath her, and she stumbled, her heart leaping into her throat. A deep, resonating boom echoed through the building, followed by a blaring alarm. “Dr. Elias!” she shouted, spinning around. Smoke and dust billowed toward her, and the acrid scent of burning wires filled the air. Part of the ceiling had collapsed, cutting off her path back to the reinforced chamber. And then she saw it. Through the swirling haze, a glowing orb hovered in the wreckage, pulsating with a light that seemed alive. It started small, no bigger than her fist, but it was growing—expanding with an eerie, deliberate rhythm. The hum it emitted was low and bone-deep, vibrating through the air and into her chest. “No, no, no,” she muttered, backing away. Every instinct screamed at her to run. She turned and bolted for the exit, her shoes skidding on the slick floor as she raced against the inevitable. She had barely reached the stairwell when a second explosion ripped through the building. The force of it threw her forward, and she hit the ground hard. Her vision blurred as heat and light engulfed her. Somewhere in the distance, she heard the structure groan as it gave way entirely. Then, everything went black.

[Main Plot Completed] A love doomed from the start, a lost cause, a losing battle—and yet, neither hearts are willing to let go until the very end. ----- Arlan Cromwell, the epitome of the perfect Crown Prince. All he wants is to live a normal life of a human but the life of a dragon is anything but normal. He has but one goal—to find his runaway betrothed and behead her. What happens when he discovers that the woman who has snagged his heart is the one he vowed to kill? Oriana, a Black Witch, disguising herself as a man, has spent her entire life on the run without knowing what she is running away from. When the mysteries of her past slowly catch up to her, she has no one to turn to…except Arlan. But when she learns that the man she has given her heart to is the same man who wants to kill her, how can she accept the cruel card life dealt her? Two people with secrets to keep, identities to hide, and answers to find. When the certain darkness threatens to take Oriana away, will the Dragon be able to protect his mate? ----- Excerpt- “If I knew you were my betrothed, I would have killed you the very first moment we met." Arlan's gaze darkened with hatred. “If I knew I was betrothed to you, I would have killed myself before you even killed me!” Oriana mirrored the same emotions as him. He pulled out a dagger and offered it to her. “It’s not too late. Just slit your throat with this and you'll bleed out painlessly.” She accepted the knife, her fingers clutching its handle tightly. The next moment, he was pressed against the wall and the knife was on the right side of his neck. “How about I try it on you first, my betrothed?” “Feel free to try. But when you fail, this knife will first taste your grandpa's blood, then yours.” Anger rose in her eyes, and the next moment, blood was flowing through the right side of his neck. She cut deep enough to severe an important blood vessel. “You should not have challenged me,” she sneered and stepped back, waiting for him to collapse. He simply smirked and brushed his finger along the deep wound on his neck. “Seems like you failed.” She watched the wound on his neck heal on its own and felt shocked to her bones. “You.. what are you?” “Guess?” ----- Instagram- mynovel.20 Facebook- Author mynoveltwenty

A man desperate for salvation. A woman desperate for freedom. For as long as Althea could remember, she had been nothing more than a shadow in her father’s house—unwanted, unloved, and barely acknowledged. As the illegitimate daughter of Count Thornwell, she endured a life of cruelty, neglected by her father, tormented by her stepmother, and overshadowed by her perfect half-sister. But fate was not entirely unkind. One day, she discovered a gift hidden within her blood—the power to heal. For the first time, she had something that was truly hers. Something no one could take away. Then, she meets Duke Eldric Caelum—a man feared across the empire for his overwhelming elemental power. A man who, despite his terrifying strength, suffers in silence as his abilities slowly tear him apart. The first time she touched him, she felt his pain. The first time she healed him, he felt relief for the first time in years. And when the emperor commanded him to take a wife, Eldric didn’t choose anyone but Althea. Faced with a choice between a lifetime of suffering or a marriage to a ruthless but powerful duke, Althea made the only decision that could save her. She said yes. But she never expected that the man she married—the one she thought would be cold and distant—would hold her like she was precious, touch her like she was fragile, and look at her like she was the only thing that mattered. She never expected that amid duty, danger, and the weight of their pasts, she might find something else entirely. A place to belong. A heart that beat only for her. A love that even fate couldn’t take away… …Or could it? — "Why… why do you look at me like that?" Althea whispered, her voice barely audible over the crackling fire. Eldric reached out, his rough, calloused fingers brushing against her cheek with agonizing gentleness. "Like what?" "Like I’m something precious." He exhaled softly, as if the very idea of her doubting it pained him. "Because you are. You are my salvation, Althea." Althea’s breath caught in her throat. "Eldric…" His forehead rested against hers, his voice a mere whisper now. "Stay with me. No matter what happens, stay."

To make me take the blame for Lin Jiaojiao, my parents pushed all the crimes onto me in front of everyone. My brother poisoned my throat, rendering me mute so I couldn’t defend myself. My fiancé broke my arms and legs, ensuring I had no chance to escape. I was sent to prison for five years. And all they said was— "This is the price you pay for taking twenty years of Jiaojiao’s life."

In a shattered world where ancient dungeons emit magic energy, powerful warlords vie for dominance, and the air crackles with old curses, Xiaoya Feng walks a treacherous line between destruction and godhood. Orphaned at the age of twelve when mercenaries burned her village, Xiaoya holds on to two legacies from her dying mother: a jade pendant in the form of a crescent moon that reminds her to survive at all costs. . . . Xiaoya (age 15); "Mama, please get up! We have to run!" Her small hands shake as she presses on the wound in her mother's chest, the warm stickiness spreading through her fingers. The earth shakes; Another explosion? Mercenaries? Demons? She didn't look. Li Feng choked her blood. "Listen… Xiao-ya. The strong… they do not triumph. The clever do. You… survive. Promise me." A cough cuts into her words. Blood splatters across Xiaoya's cheeks. Xiaoya Feng Cried. "I-I'll carry you! There's a healer in the next valley—" "No." Li Feng's fingers wrap around Xiaoya's wrist, cold as winter steel. "Take the pendant. Hide it. Let them see you as weak… until you strike back." The jade glimmers in the firelight, its edges razor-sharp enough to draw blood. Xiaoya's tears dry upon contact with the burned earth. Li Feng whispered in a low voice. "Live. Not just… survive. Live. Find joy. Promise—" The hand goes slack as she dies. Far away, a man laughs which was like a deep, greasy sound as footsteps close in on the hut. Xiaoya Feng didn't not moved. She does not breathe. Her mother's eyes look past her, and flames dance in them like wicked spirits. 'Survive.' She threads the pendant's chain around her neck. It burns her skin. 'Live.' A shadow falls in the doorway: a mercenary captain, his armor shining with borrowed trinkets. Xiaoya does not beg or scream. She looks him in the eye and allows her voice to shake, becoming the frightened child she is meant to be. Xiaoya Feng whispered. "P-please… don't hurt me." The captain smiles broadly, sheathing his sword. "Aww, little rabbit. I'll make it qui-" Her fingers wrap around the dagger concealed in her mother's sash. Strike! Present Day (Whispered Memory): Xiaoya touches the pendant at her throat, its edge still sharp. Survive. Live. These orders war within her heart as she gazes into the emptiness of a dungeon, its darkness resonating with promises of power… and destruction. "Ordinary," she says as she readjusted her herb-gatherer's cloak. "Just an ordinary day." The lie burns like ashes. But lies, like daggers, cut the deepest when they go unnoticed. -- P.S - Romance? I don't think I will add this element but if I do then not much... Romance isn't my first priority.

Reborn into her 100th and final life, Ji Li Mei is trapped in hard mode within a cultivation system. But this time, she's unlocked the goddess route. Can she survive in a world of cut throat cultivators teeming with enemies old and new to reach ascension to godhood? Or will she meet another bloody end?

Clara's breath caught in her throat as Ethan loomed over her, his presence dominating the small space. She could smell his cologne, a heady blend of spice and masculinity that made her head spin. "Ethan," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "We shouldn't..."

At the Orphanage "I like you." Her eyes widened. "But I don’t—" He cut her off, his grin widening. "I LIKE YOU! I LIKE YOU AND..." He paused dramatically, locking eyes with her before leaning in once more. "And I like to irritate you." Yadhana’s glare could have burned through walls. Yuvaa chuckled. "And you look cute when you're angry." Before she could explode, he playfully pinched her cheeks. "Ugh! You're such a buffalo!" she snapped, turning away. Yuvaa, ever the troublemaker, called after her. "Well, if I’m a buffalo, then you’re the buffalo’s best friend!" She froze in her tracks, fists clenching. "I am NOT your friend!" "You are," he teased. "I AM NOT!!" "YOU ARE MY BESTEST FRIEND!" That was the final straw. Fueled by rage, Yadhana stormed toward him, eyes blazing. "I AM NOT! I AM NOT AND—" Before she could finish, Yuvaa suddenly leaned in and pressed a quick kiss on her cheek. "You are. Until our last breath, you’re mine." And with that, he bolted, knowing full well that if he stayed, he'd be dead meat. Fourteen Years Later A scream shattered the silence. "Please leave me alone! Please don’t do this to me… I beg you… please!!!" Yuvaa’s eyes shot open. That voice—he knew it instantly. "Yadhana." Heart pounding, he rushed toward her. She was curled up in the corner, trembling, tears streaming down her face. When he placed a hand on her shoulder, she recoiled violently. "Yadhana, what’s wrong?" he asked gently. "Please… don’t touch me… I beg you," she sobbed, her voice raw with terror. A lump formed in his throat. What happened to you, Yaad? "It’s me, Yuvaa," he whispered, tilting her chin to meet his gaze. But as soon as he said her name, her expression twisted in anguish. "Don’t call me that name!" she snapped. "Yaad—" "DON’T!!! CALL!!! ME!!! BY!!! THAT!!! NAME!!!" she screamed, her body shaking violently. Yuvaa flinched but nodded. "Alright… I won’t." She clung to him suddenly, sobbing into his chest. "Please don’t leave me with him, Pa… I’m scared… I don’t want to be with him… please don’t leave me…" Pain stabbed through his heart. He held her tighter. "I won’t leave you, Yadhana. I promise." But just as quickly, she shoved him away. "No… no… you’re lying! You’re going to leave me with him!" she cried, eyes darting around in panic. "Yaad, what are you—" "DON’T CALL ME BY THAT NAME!" she shrieked again, her voice hollow, broken. Yuvaa inhaled sharply. "Okay… okay… just breathe, Yadhana." She turned to him then, her gaze sharp and piercing. "Don’t come near me, Pa. I’m not the Yadhana you once knew. I’ve become a monster… I’m no longer the girl you remember." Without hesitation, he pulled her into his arms again. "None of that matters to me. You are not a monster, Yadhana. You’re an angel. No matter what you’ve been through, you’re still you." Tears glistened in her eyes. "You’re lying…" she whispered. He answered with a kiss. For the first time in years, she stilled. As sleep finally took over, Yuvaa gently laid her on the bed, brushing a few stray strands of hair from her face. He pulled a chair beside her, his fingers lightly running through her hair as he watched over her. His jaw tightened. Who hurt you, Yadhana? Why are you carrying this pain alone? Memories of the past flashed in his mind—the day her own sister slapped her, the silent suffering in her eyes, the wounds she never spoke of. He clenched his fists. If you won’t tell me… I swear, I’ll find out myself. And when I do, I won’t let them get away with it. Yuvaa exhaled sharply, his resolve hardening. "I don’t care who they are—family or not. No one will ever hurt you again. Not while I’m here." Leaning closer, he whispered softly, "I swear, my angel… I will protect you. Always."