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Ruins Of Sea And Souls

Ruins Of The Glory

If you blame the victim, then you stand for the perpetrator. — "You say a word and I'll step back. Tell me not to touch you," Louis murmured, his own control slipping as he admitted to his profound yearning for her touch. "Get away from me," she managed to whisper. "Mean it, Verena," he persisted, the insistence in his voice urging her to make a definitive choice. His hand advanced, inching closer to her neck, his touch lingering there momentarily before retreating, a delicate dance of desire. For a second, silence hung heavy in the air, pregnant with unspoken tension. Then, as if her inner turmoil had reached its peak, the words spilled from her lips. "I fucking hate you," she spat out. Without further hesitation, Verena surged forward, her hand finding its way to the back of his neck. In an instant, her lips crashed against his. — Verena Bradbury's life took a treacherous turn after a fateful party. Little did she know that her innocent decision to enter a villa with five strangers would result in her becoming a criminal and spending four years behind bars. Upon her release, Verena was consumed by a burning desire for revenge against Arriana Vandeleur and her accomplices, who had framed her. Determined to tear them apart, she meticulously plans her revenge. However, in a cruel twist of fate, Verena suddenly found herself burdened with heavy responsibilities she never could have anticipated: she was forced to become the wife of Louis Heisenberng, the most handsome and youngest billionaire in their country. Louis, driven by his dark obsessions, kidnapped Verena and enforced their union by forging their marriage certificate without a trace of hesitation. In a chilling race against time, Verena fought against the shackles of her forced matrimony and plotted her daring escape. As Verena delved deeper into Louis's world of privilege and power, she unravelled a sinister web of secrets and deceit. With each shocking revelation, Verena's determination to bring down her captor intensifies, no matter the risks involved. In "Ruins Of The Glory," Verena Bradbury found herself trapped in a thrilling rollercoaster ride of lies, betrayal, and desperation. Will she be able to break free from her nightmarish entrapment and expose the truth, or will the shadows of her past continue to haunt her? -Author's Books- WILDBLOOD (ongoing) Ruins Of The Glory (ongoing) Thee Spark (coming soon)
ashk29 · 129.5K Views

Ruin Me Tender

"Hate was the only thing between us—until it wasn’t." -ISLA- Revenge is my birthright. Ever since the fire that claimed my brother and shattered my family, I’ve rebuilt the Moreau empire from the ashes. But every brick I’ve laid, every deal I’ve struck, has come with one goal in mind: uncovering the truth behind that night. Ciaran Valente is the man I’ve hated since I learned how to hate. Infuriating, cruel, and too clever for his own good, he thrives in darkness, just like I do. But when the ghosts of my past tie his family to my brother’s death, my hatred becomes the least dangerous thing between us. Because Ciaran doesn’t just step into my world—he consumes it. He sees through my armor, breaks down my defenses, and dares to turn my pain into something far more dangerous than vengeance: desire. But love doesn’t exist for people like us. Only power. Only lies. And when the masks come off, one truth will destroy us both. -CIARAN- Isla Moreau is my personal form of torment. Sharp-tongued, calculating, and as untouchable as ice. I’ve craved breaking her for years—not just to prove I could, but because there’s nothing more tempting than watching a queen fall. But Isla isn’t a game. She’s fire wrapped in steel, and she hides secrets even darker than my own. When the past collides with the present, revealing the cracks in our perfect façades, I discover something I didn’t think I was capable of: obsession. She consumes me—mind, body, and soul. But while I want to own her, she wants vengeance. While I crave her surrender, she wants the truth. And in the end, we’re not just enemies. We’re fated to ruin each other.
verenawrites01 · 3.5K Views

Song of the Gardener of Souls [BL]

Rowan sees beauty in death. The Order he has sworn to obey only sees defilement. As the reviled Caretaker of the Order, Rowan has accepted his role as a dutiful outcast because he believes it is the only way to prove his worth to the man who holds his sisters’ souls as collateral. With his magic and his voice, Rowan can absorb death and transform it, but only in ways the Order deems acceptable to maintain the stability of the reality it claims to protect Order must subdue Disorder. Reality must triumph over illusion. He is tainted and always will be. Rowan has never questioned those lessons, but that changes the night he harvests a crimson soul that is more than human and chooses to keep it a secret. When Rowan’s song transforms that soul into a beautiful and mysterious man he names Wren, he is forced to accept that sometimes duty is a lie and illusion is the only thing you can trust. As the fabric of the Order begins to unwind and a new kind of Disorder takes hold, Rowan will need to choose again, stand with the Order that held him down, or forge a new path with Wren at his side. He may be the only one who can restore balance to the worlds, but only if he can find balance within himself first. ************************************* Updates 3-4 times per week. Note: This story focuses on relationships. I promise an epic romance, lots of swoon-worthy moments, and a healthy amount of fluff. When it does get steamy…you might get burned. Fair warning for explicit content. I don’t shy away from my spice. There are lots of side characters and couples to fall in love with, in addition to the main couple. If you love the idea of found family, you will be happy. This book is set in a non-heteronormative world, so you will see various gender identities/expressions and types of love. ************************************* Excerpt (if you want the full steamy version, you will have to read the book!): Still reeling from the new magic that coursed under his skin and unsure of how to react to the desire that threatened to take control of him, Rowan froze. Wren's hot breath against his mouth sent a jolt of pleasure through his body, and he choked back a groan. A different kind of panic flared in Rowan's chest, burning him as if he were the one on fire. This was what he wanted, what he'd thought about every night since Wren left. But wanting more was one thing. Acting on it was another. He'd spent so much of his life hiding, he didn't know how to do anything else. One corner of Wren's mouth twitched as Rowan pulled away. When he attempted to free himself from Wren's grasp, Wren just hauled him closer. Rowan liked that he didn't have to think about what to do next. His bare chest thudded against Wren's torso, and the heat from Wren's body merged with Rowan's skin, melting him from the inside out. "What did you just do to me?" Wren's deep voice vibrated against Rowan's chest. "The Disorder of your illusion was holding you captive. I…I absorbed it." "Oh? Where did you learn to do that? Have I been gone that long?" Wren's grip loosened slightly on Rowan's wrists as if he was satisfied now that Rowan was practically sitting on top him. Rowan stared at Wren's lips. He opened his mouth to protest, but immediately closed it again. "I know you aren't going to say that I shouldn't touch you." Wren's free hand splayed over the small of Rowan's back. "Not when you started it." Rowan's breath hitched. "No. I'm not going to say that anymore. Not to you." "I thought you were afraid to be touched." Wren's fingers traced a circle over the curve of Rowan's spine as if testing for a reaction. "I know that I'm not afraid of you." Rowan waited for the panic to set in, but all he felt was desire. "With you, I want…" "You want what?" "I want more." Triumph flared in Wren's gaze before he narrowed his eyes. "Really? Then why are you still trying to get away from me?"
LivChanin · 1M Views

To Sleep In The Sea Of Time

This is a story of a guy who loses everything, and then gets it back. Same old new world story, just a different kind of story teller. *** They took away our hunter tags. They had us grow our hair. They gave us a new brand, when we were over there. They staged us out of Dragur, East of the Olim Horn. I guess they call us Slaves, but no one calls us much anymore. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. Karn brought Sorrow. Pookie brought Fear. Milk brought the fly boys. They did work in Undia. I worked mostly clandestine. Some Legends I should not say. We played with better wands. I could use the extra pay. Did Mara give the order? Did venom pay the way? They said we were slaying demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. This was before HALO, and Codex was king. Hej atop the rider, he never felt a thing. When our rider caught a spell, and both the mages killed. It pitched us over sideways on some cold Sylph hill. My back felt like it was broken, my legs I could not feel. I kept on slaying demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. I never did heal up right from injuries sustained Officially in Torin, unofficially we train. I remember all their faces. They dream about me still. I guess I'm slaying demons, but it's kind of hard to tell. There no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. I speak the cold logistic, that old boys speak so well. Veni, Vedi, Vici. I'll see you in Hel. Maybe it's bravado, or an unspeakable guilt. That village, they were demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't wanna to do it anymore. I've done plenty. What is one more? -Corb Lund *** Come guess me this riddle. What beats shire leaves and fiddle? What is hotter than pleasures touch, and whiter than cream? What best wets his whistle? What is clearer than crystal? What is sweeter than honey and stronger than steam? What will make the lame walk? What will make the dumb talk? What is the elixir of life and philosopher's stone? And what helped Pookie-Baba dig up a tunnel, that runs from Shalamanda to West-Torin? When you are digging a crater, It is the best thing in nature, for sinking your sorrows and raising your joys. Sometimes I wonder, if lightning and thunder, is made out of the plunder, of the reddest hiski and oils. *** If you can keep your head when all about you, are losing theirs and blaming it on you. If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, but make allowance for their doubting too. If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, or being lied about, don’t deal in lies, or being hated, don’t give way to hating, And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise. If you can dream, and not make dreams your master. If you can think, and not make thoughts your aim. If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster, and treat those two impostors just the same. If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken, twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, and stoop and build them up with worn-out tools. If you can make one heap of all your winnings, and risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss and lose, and start again at your beginnings, and never breathe a word about your loss. If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew, to serve your turn long after they are gone, and so hold on when there is nothing in you; Except the Will which says to them ‘Hold on!’ If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, nor walk with Kings, nor lose the common touch. If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you. If all men count with you, but none too much. If you can fill the unforgiving minute, with sixty seconds worth of distance, run. Yours is the World and everything that’s in it, and which is more you’ll be a Man, my son. - Rudyard Kipling
man_of_culture3030 · 703.1K Views
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