Zuxian

The three ladies (his daughter, maid and lover) want a half of him, but seriously, who divides a half into three? * * * Athena has given her words to her father that Vulcan, the mortal is better than every god, Zeus, her father formed and proposed that she marry. Because of that, she can't return to her father with shame and regret. She stands her ground, she will fight for who she loves. The Nymph will not back down, because all her life, she had only been a puppet to Athena's will, and taking her man will be the best comeback. Prium will not let Vulcan off her hook because she had left every thing she was and had back in the village because of him. Returning to the village is a 'NO'. And Vulcan? He holds them all in same regard because all of them have been useful in one way or the other. But deep down, the memories he has shared sexually and emotionally with Athena back in fantasy keeps reminding him of his love for her.

Lailah, a beautiful Nymph, was spat out by the sea after angering the great Poseidon. Luckily, she was rescued by the cunning Ja Lia, who of course, immediately felt a strong sexual attraction to her. He made advances, and she submitted, wanting to repay him for his kindness. But she liked the sex a little much. Transforming into an insatiable seductress, she proceeded to test will of other men, who unknown to her were Ja Lia's siblings. Angered by this betrayal, Ja Lia sets sail on the open sea but met with new fate. Poseidon would recruit him against Lailah, who already carries his child.

He was hunted by some Centuars and Satyrs after he'd breached the orders of the underworld. Then they pursued him till he lost them to a forest. He was found by some of the creatures who he killed. He stayed in the forest for a while till a lady came to the forest. He was surprised to realize that other creatures existed and stole after her till he found a voluptuous village. He returned to his stead (the trunk of a tree) and would go to steal the babies of the inhabitants of the village. He kept on this and travelled to other parts of sewn villages whenever there was no baby to steal anymore. Nemesis caught up with him when it was time for him to be stolen. Ah! He who steal will be stolen.

The sensation of falling wasn't like flying; it was heavy, violent, and smelled of burning flesh. Above us, on the crumbling balcony of the Sears manor, Duke Cato Sears turned his back, shielding his cousin Bianca from the smoke as he walked away, leaving my sister Blossom and me to drop into the abyss. As the darkness slammed shut like an iron door, I realized my entire life had been a cruel script written by the people I called family. In my first life, I was the sacrificial lamb of the Dawson manor, sold to a man who eventually watched me die without blinking. My sister Blossom had pushed me into Cato's arms to avoid his rumors, only to laugh when the fire finally consumed us both. My father had measured my value like a piece of livestock, and my step-grandmother didn't even acknowledge my existence while I was being led to the slaughter. I died in that fire, feeling the heat scorch my skin and the weight of a hatred so potent it tasted like bile. I spent twenty years being the weak, manipulated shadow of a girl, only to end up as nothing more than a phantom scorch mark on a "hero's" estate. I couldn't understand why my own blood treated my life like a game they could discard. The injustice of it all burned hotter than the flames that took my last breath. Then, I sat up, sucking in air that tasted of lavender and air conditioning, not smoke. I was back in my bedroom, three days before the engagement ball that ruined my life. Blossom stood at the door, her "sweet" mask slipping as she tried to manipulate me into the Duke's path again. She thought she was the only one who had come back, but she didn't realize that this time, I was going to let her have exactly what she wanted: the Duke, the bankruptcy, and the living hell that awaited her in that house.

Once the cherished heiress of the Douglas family, she lost everything when her parents were brutally murdered and she was framed by her own blood. Labeled a criminal, she was cast into prison with no one to trust and nothing to her name. Six years later, she returns-not as a broken woman, but as the Scarlet Valkyrie, the deadliest warrior in all of Juzora. Her aim is flawless, her signature weapon Manjusaka strikes without mercy, and her name alone sends tremors through the underworld. With one hand, she saves her ailing grandmother with the precision of a master healer. With the other, she takes down Draco City's most ruthless criminals. But her true purpose is vengeance. Every debt owed, every wound inflicted, every lie told-she will settle them all, with interest. The war goddess has returned. And the ones who wronged her are about to learn what it means to face the wrath of a legend.

She was small, too small and too slender too. Her hair, blood red, formed a halo around her body, softly grazing her back. He had noticed specks of dirt on her body but they failed to hide the loveliness and tenderness of her skin, which he could bet would shine once it was cleaned. To put it simply, she was lovely, far more beautiful than any of the other brides, despite the injury on her forehead, which had reduced in size significantly, but still angered him. He couldn't get a glimpse of her eyes because her head was turned from his but its image was already stuck to his head, a soft violet, which he assumed would gleam if she smiled. She wasn't smiling though, hadn't smiled since he met her and he had assumed that she hardly ever did. A similarity they probably both shared. He,again, remembered the swelling on her forehead which got his blood heated. What made the people of this town hate her so vehemently? What could the lovely, innocent looking girl have probably done to have deserved being thrust upon him? ........................................ 18 year old Leila has had a difficult life. Having lost her parents at the young age of 10, she has had to battle to survive, weaving her way through predators, rapists and murderers along the way. However, nothing could have possibly prepared her for the beast of a man whom she was suddenly bound to as wife... ....................................... 31 year old Voloukh, leader of men torn from their homes at a young age to act as slave warriors for the Kingdom of Ultar, has been brutally carved to be a killing machine. His features are enough to bestow fear upon the hearts of anyone who dare to gaze upon him. The Beast of the Woods, as he is referred to is hence, shocked when a girl with the most beautiful violet eyes he has ever seen, which however, gaze upon him with trepidation and horror, is given to him to wed...

A forced marriage. A cursed dragon king. And a love that could destroy them both." To stop a centuries-old war, Princess Evelynn is forced to marry King Darius, the ruthless Dragon Lord. But she is no ordinary bride-she is a sacrifice. A prophecy warns that if Darius loves her, he will burn the world to ashes. Evelynn plans to escape, but when she learns the dark secret behind his curse, she must make an impossible choice: her freedom or his soul. But can she love a man whose very touch could destroy her? 🔥 Perfect for fans of forbidden romance, dangerous secrets, and powerful dragon kings. 📖 Read now and enter a world of magic, fate, and love that defies destiny.

They call Marcus Chen a god-killer. A thief. An abomination. The truth? He's the only mortal who survived when Ares died on top of him, bleeding divinity into his veins. Now every pantheon in Chicago wants him dead before he finishes transforming into something that shouldn't exist, a god born from human flesh. Marcus has three days before execution. Three days to control the power that's burning him alive. Three days to expose the real conspiracy behind Ares's murder. The old gods ruled for millennia. Marcus Chen might be the last god they ever fear.

Betrayed by the two people she trusted most - her husband and her foster sister-turned-best friend - Lilith dies with regrets. But fate has other plans. Granted a second chance by a mysterious system, she wakes up in the past. This time... She won't be naive. This time, she'll rewrite her destiny. On the first day of her rebirth, she crosses paths with Dean: a disarmingly gorgeous, silver-haired man who proposes a fake engagement to help her. But the more time they spend together, the harder it becomes to draw the line between real and pretend. With the past betrayal still fresh in her mind, Lilith must decide- Will she risk her heart again... or keep her eyes on the prize?

The sound of the front door opening was a nightmare come true-my younger sister, Emily, stood there, not alone, but holding a baby in a cheap pink blanket. "Surprise! Meet Leo. He' s the newest addition to the Miller family legacy," she announced, her voice sickeningly carefree, echoing the very words that had derailed my life in a past I' d already lived. My blood ran cold; this exact moment, this casual act of irresponsibility, had led directly to my death before. My parents, blinded by affection, embraced the child and Emily' s monstrous lie, turning their backs on my desperate pleas for reason. Consumed by a terrible sense of déjà vu, I remembered the blinding pain, the darkness that consumed me when Emily, armed with one of my own sculptures, ended my previous life for simply asking her to be responsible. But this time, I wouldn't be the martyr-this time, the cycle would break, and Emily would pay.'

He took her body, her trust, and her heart-but tonight, she takes his life. "...making love to you when I will, which I will..." Alpha Gonzalo Kenyon's eyes danced wickedly, his voice threading with pride and a promise of power. The words slid under Liora's skin like poison, impossible to ignore, and impossible to forget. They can either walk a mile in her shoes and feel the pain they caused her, or they can sever their legs as they severed her heart. Only a fish can know how deep the ocean is. Only a bird can know how high the sky is. Only a polar bear can know how cold the Arctic is. Only the betrayed can know how much betrayal hurts. Slowly, Liora pressed the ceremonial dagger meant for Alpha blood into Gonzalo's chest, the blade sinking deep with chilling finality. Blood surged upward in thick, dark bursts, gushing across his bare skin and pooling around the altar where they had just made love. Gonzalo's eyes flew open, wild and disbelieving. A snarl twisted his lips, but no words came-only a strangled gasp as his lungs filled with blood. His hands grasped at her wrists, strength faltering, the power that once ruled pack and land draining with every beat of his dying heart. His bones cracked softly beneath his skin, shifting, as though the wolf inside him was fighting to rise one last time.

I was Chloe, a frontwoman of "Nightingale & Guitarist," a life I’d painstakingly built with Liam, the struggling musician I’d saved. For five years, I was his muse, his partner, his wife, having chosen him over my original, shattered reality. Then, Liam began his affair with Kendra, our ambitious tour assistant. For three unbearable years, I lived a grotesque parody of a marriage, enduring his blatant betrayals, his gaslighting, and Kendra’s open triumph, as if I had somehow deserved this calculated heartbreak. The final, crushing blow came on my birthday, backstage, when Kendra callously announced her pregnancy, a child she claimed was Liam's, right after he'd publicly blamed me for her distress. How could I have given up everything, every piece of my true self, Elara the cellist, only to be reduced to this, a discarded note in their discordant symphony? Why did I allow myself to be consumed by such a bitter, endless performance? But a lifeline appeared: The mysterious Dreamweaver system, which had first sent me to Liam, offered a way to finally go back. To my real life. To myself. For ten days, I methodically dismantled every trace of "Chloe," liquidating all the assets, severing every tie, until my final, quiet disappearance at midnight, as gracefully as a fading echo. Yet, even in my true world, peace was fleeting; Dreamweaver demanded I return, one last time, to quell Liam’s destructive grief, which threatened to unravel the very fabric of his reality. I had to finish what I started, to play the final, unburdened note.

My ex-fiancé, Andrew, and my sister's fiancé, Brian, were powerful men, state senator and chief of staff, constantly parading us, the last two Spirit Weavers of our tribe, as their exotic, sacred accessories. But when a corporate militia captured us in a desolate cannery, and the men we loved finally showed up, it wasn't to save us. Terrified for an ambitious intern, Molly Johns, Andrew and Brian screamed to save her, not us. Then, with cameras rolling, they participated in our brutal torture, nailing our hands to pillars, sawing off my sacred tribal tattoo, tearing my sister' s heirloom earring, and finally, spiking our feet to the ground, leaving us crippled and bleeding for our new captors. The pain was agonizing, but the betrayal cut deeper. How could the men who claimed to love us mutilate us so cruelly, casting us aside like trash for their political careers? Why did they choose that girl over us, over our ancestral land, over everything? Just as we were dragged toward a windowless van, a deafening roar filled the air: the Iron Totems MC, led by my childhood friend, Rufus, and my sister's, Caleb, crashed through the police barricade. They rescued us, but then revealed the truth: this entire nightmare was their calculated plot to expose Andrew and Brian, to free us from their poisonous control, and to finally allow us to reclaim our power.