rabb
19 Published Stories
rabb's Books and Stories
Redeeming The Hearts Of My Beasts
Fantasy I died on an apocalyptic battlefield, only to wake up pinned down by a lead-lined blanket of my own fat.
A violent download of memories hit me. I had transmigrated into the body of an exiled, sadistic noblewoman who was three million coins in debt.
The original owner was an absolute monster. She had purchased beastman guards just to torture them for fun. In the corner of the filthy room, a golden retriever boy cowered, his back shredded by her barbed whip. In the basement, a snake guard was frozen and scarred from constant electro-shocks. When the white tiger guard returned from hard labor, he looked at me with pure, murderous hatred, ready to tear me apart to protect the others. Even the local elites kicked down my door to mock my pathetic life and try to steal my men.
I was a decorated commander who bled for humanity. Why was I trapped in this ruined vessel, bearing the sins of a degenerate abuser?
It was all a setup by her sweet-faced cousin, Debera, who stole her royal life and sent her to this outer-rim hellhole to rot.
I gritted my teeth and plunged a military-grade gene repair serum into my arm, letting the agony burn away the black filth and weakness.
"The crazy woman you knew before is dead."
I tossed a medical kit to the trembling guards, loaded my old electromagnetic pistol, and headed for the deadly Demon Hunting Zone to start my revenge. Reborn From Ashes: The King's Ruthless Queen
Fantasy The house was a living inferno, the heat devouring the air in my lungs as I clutched my five-year-old daughter to my chest. Emily was dead weight, her skin already cooling even as the room turned into a furnace of orange and black.
Through the stinging smoke, I saw my husband, Kenney, crawling toward the door with a wet handkerchief pressed to his face. He didn't look back at the crib, and he didn't call my name; he was simply leaving us to burn.
I lunged forward and grabbed his ankle, my nightgown catching fire, but he didn't reach down to save me. He recoiled in horror at the sight of my burning hair and our dead child, kicking me back with a panicked shriek.
"Let go!" he shrieked.
I died as a massive, flaming timber snapped from the ceiling and crushed us both into silence. I couldn't believe that the man I loved would leave his family to die just to save his own skin, but the rage I felt was colder than the death that followed.
But then the burning stopped instantly, replaced by a cold so sharp it made my teeth ache. I gasped, jerking upright in my bed to find the velvet duvet cool under my palms and the nursery quiet, with Emily still breathing softly in her crib.
I had returned to the winter morning two years before the fire, the exact day Kenney finalized the deal to sell me to the King for a promotion. As Kenney stepped into the room with a practiced mask of concern, I realized I was no longer the victim of this story.
"A nightmare, my love?" he asked, reaching out to touch my shoulder.
I flinched away, my eyes burning with a hatred he couldn't yet understand. Tonight was the Winter Masquerade, the night he planned to offer me to the King as a prize, but this time, I was going to turn his social ladder into a gallows. Addicted To My Genius Assassin Wife
Mafia My entire family was slaughtered three years ago by Alistair Kirkland, the usurper who stole the underworld throne.
I was the only survivor. Smuggled out of New York as a child, I was trained in the shadows to become a flawless weapon. Now, at sixteen, I returned to the city that was supposed to be my graveyard.
But the New York I returned to was a suffocating cage. Kirkland didn't just wipe out the Valenzuela bloodline; he branded my few surviving loyalists as traitors. He paraded my men down the streets in heavy iron chains, letting the very people we once protected hurl rocks at them. He bought the doctors, ensuring my wounded soldiers would bleed out in the dark. Even worse, the mother of my only ally—Julian Morgan—secretly sold us out to a Chicago warlord just to keep her archaic grip on power.
I stood in the shadows, watching an eleven-year-old boy get his head smashed with a jagged stone just for defending his father's honor. How could the city my grandfather built cheer for our extermination? Why did the old guard prefer to cower and die in the dark rather than fight the monster who stole our home?
"Ghosts don't knock on my door, Athena. What do you want?" Julian asked me.
I tossed a blood-stained ledger of Kirkland's deepest secrets onto his desk.
"I'm here to help you take back what's yours, and burn Alistair Kirkland's empire to the ground." Too Late To Beg: The Don's Regret
Mafia I was still bleeding into the mesh underwear the hospital gave me when the photos hit the internet: my husband, the Don, forcing his tongue down his mistress's throat.
Three days ago, that very mistress had shoved me off a yacht.
I lost the baby. I lost my uterus. I was left completely barren.
Yet, when my husband finally called, it wasn't to ask if I was alive.
"The press is eating us alive," Dante barked through the phone. "Send a gift basket to Sofia. Fix this mess."
To make matters worse, his grandmother stood at the foot of my bed, holding the hand of the daughter they had stolen from me at birth.
"Mommy looks like a ghost," my daughter said, her voice devoid of love.
That was the moment the last ember of affection died. I realized I wasn't a wife to them; I was just a broken vessel.
So, when they sneered that I was useless, I didn't cry.
I pulled a black USB drive from under my pillow and threw it on the bed.
"Divorce papers," I said calmly. "And the complete security blueprints of the Moretti Fortress. Every blind spot. Every tunnel I designed."
"Sign the papers and let me go, or I sell this drive to your enemies for one dollar."
I left the country with nothing but the clothes on my back, vanishing into a freezing attic in Paris.
I thought I was finally free.
But three weeks later, Dante kicked down my door, looking at my poverty with horror.
"Come home," he begged, tossing a box of diamonds onto my drafting table. "We can be a family."
I looked at the man who had destroyed me and opened the window.
"You're looking for the girl who loved you," I whispered, throwing the diamonds into the trash alley below.
"But you killed her." Runaway Mistress: The Mafia Boss Begs On His Knees
Mafia The heavy steel door of the industrial meat locker slammed shut, sealing me in at four degrees below zero.
Ten minutes ago, I was the woman Dante Moretti promised to burn the world for.
Now, I was the rat accused of poisoning his heir.
Dante didn’t just lock me in. He looked at me with eyes devoid of warmth and said, "Evidence says otherwise."
He chose the lie of his arranged wife, Sofia, over my truth.
For months, I endured the price of loving the Underboss.
I watched him marry Sofia in a grand ceremony to secure a family alliance.
I let him force me onto a table to drain my blood to save her life when she was injured.
I took twenty lashes from his family’s enforcers, all while he stood by and watched, claiming it was necessary to "protect" me.
He told me to wait. He told me the marriage was a sham.
But when I finally escaped and he came chasing after me, revealing that Sofia was a fraud and he wanted me back, I didn't feel relief.
I felt nothing.
Even after he threw his body over mine to save me from a collapsing building, taking a jagged shard of timber through his chest, I couldn't forgive him.
In the hospital, his mother handed me his journal.
It was filled with entries about his undying love for me, written on the very same days he allowed me to be tortured.
"Tell him the debt is paid," I told his mother as I handed the book back.
"He saved my life. I saved his child. We are even."
I turned my back on the ICU and walked out into the rain.
Dante Moretti might have been willing to die for me, but he never knew how to live for me. The Mafia King's Unwanted Wife Shines
Mafia My husband ordered me to turn around and face the altar. He unbuckled his heavy leather belt, his eyes cold and devoid of mercy.
"You need to learn respect," Dante spat.
He whipped me in the family chapel until my back was a bloody mess. All because his mistress, Sofia, had framed me for breaking his grandfather's urn.
He didn't ask for the truth. He didn't hesitate. He just wanted to punish the wife he considered a burden.
As the belt tore into my skin, I didn't scream. I just counted the memories dying.
He didn't know I was the one who dove into the frozen lake to save him in high school.
He didn't know I was the one who took a knife for him during the ambush.
He believed Sofia's lies that she was his savior.
I had loved him for ten years. I had bled for him. And in return, he scarred me permanently for a crime I didn't commit.
That night, I didn't tend to my wounds. I packed my bags, signed the divorce papers, and swore on the Code of Omertà to never love him again.
Three years later, Dante found my old diary hidden under the floorboards. He read the truth about who really saved him, and realized he had tortured his guardian angel.
He found me in Paris, fell to his knees in a crowded hotel lobby, and begged for forgiveness with tears in his eyes.
I looked at the man who broke me and smiled.
"Lie down and die, Dante," I said softly. "Because I have a life to live." His Apathy, Her Freedom's Dawn
Modern I thought my arranged marriage to the ruthless tycoon Axel Flynn was a love story when he risked his life to save mine.
But when his fragile childhood friend, Alicia, arrived, I saw the truth. He would panic if she got a paper cut, but he didn't bat an eye when I jumped out of planes.
With his blessing, she stole my company, my life' s work. At my own birthday party, he announced her as the new director.
When I screamed the truth, he had me drugged. He threw me into a dark isolation room in the basement for three days, with no food or water, because Alicia claimed I was "unstable."
He dragged me out, weak and broken, and demanded I get on my knees to apologize to the woman who had destroyed me.
I finally understood. His "love" was never love. It was apathy. He simply didn't care if I lived or died.
So, after he believed her final, vicious lie and left me for dead, I took the divorce papers he'd carelessly signed and walked away. This time, for good. Divorce Following Pregnancy
Modern In the third year of their marriage, Liam became infatuated with his new secretary, Lindsay Price.
She was open and bold. Her personal motto was "Fortune favors the bold."
In bed, she knew countless different positions, and outside of it, she accompanied Liam in various thrilling activities.
While he went out with Lindsay, he maintained the facade of a devoted husband by fabricating where he had been to Lillian Walsh.
"I'm not coming home tonight. I was drunk, so I'm sleeping at the office."
Lindsay chuckled beside him. She said with a hint of teasing provocation, "When are you going to divorce that boring old woman?"
The call ended abruptly.
Unbeknownst to them, Lillian was sitting in the Obstetrics and Gynecology department and staring at the pregnancy report at her fingertips. She had been pregnant for six weeks.
After she left the hospital, she called her brother, Ricky Walsh, who was a lawyer. "Ricky, I need you to make a divorce agreement for me."
Ricky paused briefly and then asked, "Are you sure about this?"
Lillian replied calmly, "Yes. I'm pregnant. I plan to keep the baby myself." After Amnesia, I Became Forever Out of His Reach
Romance After a week in a coma caused by a car accident, Grace Miller's boyfriend, Leonard Stone, suddenly regained his memory.
He remembered the girl he longed for but could never have.
So, the first thing Leonard did upon waking was to break up with Grace. "Anything that happened during my memory loss wasn't really my choice. From today, let's go our separate ways. Our relationship doesn't hold anymore."
Grace didn't try to hold him back.
Coincidentally, the new drug research in the lab had just succeeded, and Grace volunteered to participate in the trial.
"Once you take this pill, these memories will be permanently erased. Grace, are you sure about your decision?" I Became Someone Else's Luna
Werewolf I stayed with Ethan Hudson for seven years. He grew bored of me.
He found a younger werewolf girl in the clan.
I didn't plead for him to stay this time.
I discarded the mate-bond stone, burned the protection bracelet I crafted, and left the clan that night.
His friends ridiculed me, wagering how soon I'd beg for reconciliation.
Ethan, arm around his new girl, laughed and said, "Three days tops. She'll come back crying."
Three days passed, then another three, and I never returned.
Ethan couldn't wait any longer and contacted me first. "Sylvie, enough with the tantrum..."
Victor Wilson, his rival, cut in on the phone. "Ethan, you've got to move fast to win someone back. Too late, and a good girl's gone."
Ethan's howl nearly broke the receiver. "Get Sylvie on the phone!"
Victor kissed me softly and said, "She can't. She's worn out from last night and just fell asleep." From His Rejected Omega to the Alpha King's Queen
Werewolf My fated mate, Richard, and I were preparing for our sacred Mating Ceremony, a vow before the Moon Goddess meant to bind our souls for eternity.
But a psychic message slammed into my mind—a weaponized memory sent by his adopted sister, Eva. In it, she was wrapped in Richard's arms while his parents, the Alpha and Luna, beamed with approval.
For the next two weeks, I was forced to play the part of the adoring Omega bride. He would lie about "pack emergencies" to run to her, leaving me alone in a gown shop while she sent me visions of their trysts.
His parents stripped me of the project I had poured my soul into for two years, handing it to Eva as a gift. They called me a weak-blooded Omega, unworthy of their son.
Meanwhile, Eva sent me an audio clip of Richard promising her she would be the one to carry his strong heir, not me.
They all thought I was a pathetic, disposable pawn in their twisted game. They were waiting for me to break.
They had no idea I was secretly the heir to the most powerful pack on the continent. And I had already arranged for our Mating Ceremony to be broadcast globally, turning their sacred day into the stage for their ultimate humiliation. The Unshackled: A Hacker's Retribution
Modern On the night of her twenty-sixth birthday, Eliana Walker pushed her wheelchair through bar after bar, scouring every club in sight.
It wasn't until she received a call from the police station that her search for Lucien Lane came to an end.
"Is this Ms. Walker? Mr. Lane got drunk and started a fight. We need you to come down here."
After hanging up, Eliana rubbed warmth into her stiff fingers, unsure whether to feel relief or sorrow.
Before dawn, she finally reached the police station, just in time to see Lucien erupting in fury, "Who the hell told you to call her? Sure, she saved my life-but those useless crippled legs have shackled me for ten damn years! If she weren't Ethan's sister, I would've thrown a few million at her to be done with it long ago!"
Shards from the shattered bottle sprayed through the air, one slashing across Eliana's face.
Her face was slick with wetness-she couldn't tell if it was blood or tears.
With trembling hands, Eliana dialed a number.
She drew in a deep breath, her voice resolute, "Send out the message worldwide, the Anonymous hacker alliance will no longer offer any support to Lucien Lane's company. If any hackers want to test the strength of Lane Corporation's firewall, be my guest." His Regret, My Freedom
Romance The call came on a sunny Tuesday, a day promising peace, as I reviewed blueprints in my home office.
Then, my phone vibrated with his name: Ethan Carter, my husband.
"Chloe," he said, his voice cold and distant, "We need to get a divorce."
He wanted to give "her" legitimate status; he' d met someone.
I simply leaned back, my voice flat, "Okay. Then we should do that."
He hung up, without a proper goodbye, after arranging for his lawyer to draft the generous settlement papers.
My best friend, Maya, on the other hand, exploded, "That son of a bitch! After everything you' ve done for him!"
Her fury was a storm I couldn't feel, my own emotions a placid lake.
"He wants to give 'the other woman' legitimate status," I recited, the words foreign on my tongue.
Maya vowed to burn his suits and sue him for every penny, insisting I was in shock.
"It' s okay," I told her, a tired smile touching my lips. "I also had an affair."
A different kind of silence fell.
"And another thing," I added, looking at my perfect blueprints, "His affair? I arranged it." My Father's Daughter: Unstoppable
Fantasy The acrid smell of burning plastic filled my lungs, a scent that brought back chilling memories.
I was trapped, a massive server rack crushing my leg, as sparks flew and a hellish glow illuminated the terrified face of Tiffany, my boyfriend Liam's "friend."
This was it, the moment everything went wrong. Again.
Just like in my last life, Liam burst in, scanned the chaotic scene, and without hesitation, rushed to Tiffany, who was barely coughing, leaving me shattered and bleeding under the rack.
He looked back, his eyes cold, muttering that Tiffany's family were key investors, and saving her was "for the greater good." He dismissed my crushed leg, promising to come back, then turned his back and vanished with Tiffany, leaving me for dead in a room about to explode.
I stared at the man who had murdered me in my previous life, making the exact same choice, offering the exact same excuse.
But this time, I wouldn't beg. This time, I was alive, miraculously saved by my brave friend, Maya. And this time, I was done. Dead bodies don' t get a second chance at revenge-but I did. No Second Chances for Treachery
Modern I poured my life, my inheritance, and my soul into Redwood Creek Brewery. As a gesture of love and trust, I made Olivia, my fiancée of seven years, CEO, gifting her 51% of the shares. Or so I thought.
Then the news hit: Olivia was pregnant. With Mark' s baby. Mark, her college ex, who I'd just hired as COO. Suddenly, my fiancée was marrying my COO, and I was just the guy who made the beer.
They turned my office into a humiliating nursery. Olivia demoted me to Mark' s assistant. They gleefully watched as Mark 'accidentally' ruined a crucial hops contract I' d just secured. Olivia's condescending calls about me "keeping the money flowing for them" felt like a constant knife twist. They even used company funds-my company' s funds!-to buy my childhood home, only to trash it immediately.
Every humiliation, every snide remark, fueled a cold, silent rage within me. They thought I was shattered, easy to discard. They believed I was just the pathetic founder no one remembered, too weak to fight back.
But they had no idea. Absolutely no idea what was coming. For months, I' d held a secret: a notarized share transfer agreement, signed by Olivia herself, making me the 91% owner. They thought it was a formality for a phony loan. I called it their eviction notice. Next Monday, I walked in, not as the loyal Head Brewer, but as the indisputable owner. Their nightmare began. When The Dead Speak: Sarah's Journal
Fantasy I hovered, a restless spirit, above the opulent ballroom of the Fairmont Copley Plaza.
This grand wedding, shimmering with laughter and clinking champagne flutes, celebrated Ethan Astor and Olivia Miller.
It should have been my wedding to Ethan.
But I was dead, reduced to a convenient scandal weeks ago, my tragic "overdose" a footnote in their perfect lives.
Below, society whispered, calling me "difficult" and "ungrateful," while my adoptive parents, the Millers, who once tossed my few possessions like trash, warmly embraced their "true" daughter.
They believed Ethan' s carefully doctored photos and the lies that framed my fall from grace.
No one among these glittering guests knew about the Lupus eating me alive, the relentless pain, or the crushing exhaustion that ultimately consumed me.
They simply saw Sarah, the troubled heiress, a messy problem conveniently gone.
The injustice, the quiet suffering they willfully ignored, burned colder than my ghostly form.
Then, during what should have been Ethan' s charming speech, Olivia, the new bride, stood.
She held up a small, sleek USB drive, her eyes firm.
"I have something to share," she announced, her voice echoing.
"A final message. From Sarah."
My breath, if I had one, would have hitched.
My most private journal, my very words, were about to silence their celebration, with the police already waiting outside. The Thanksgiving Takedown
Modern My parents' murder left me an empty shell, and my fiancée's abandonment poured salt on the wound. I was drowning.
Then, at their funeral, a lifeline appeared: my ex-fiancée's sister, Detective Sarah Davis, publicly proposed, vowing to bring their killers to justice. I said yes, desperately clutching onto her promise.
Five years passed. The case grew cold. My world crumbled again when I overheard Sarah, my wife, deliberately stonewalling leads.
The killer? Michael Vance, my ex's new husband.
My blood ran cold as I heard Sarah pledge to do "anything to protect him," revealing a sickening loyalty that twisted my insides.
The truth hit me like a physical blow: my marriage was a calculated performance, every comforting word a lie. She wasn't just covering up; she was protecting my parents' killer, actively erasing me from their family's narrative. How could the woman I trusted betray me so utterly for the man who destroyed my life?
After she physically attacked me to shield Michael during a Thanksgiving blow-up – publicly choosing him over me – I knew what I had to do.
I systematically gathered irrefutable evidence of their conspiracy, faked my own death, and set the wheels of justice in motion from the shadows. Now, 'Ethan Miller' is dead, but the man he was lives to see justice served, on his own terms. You might like
After Rebirth, The Strongest Beasts Are Obsessed With Me
Alibi Elena died on the operating table, betrayed by her husband, her unborn child already gone.
But death? Just her intermission.
She woke up in a whole new world-a beastmen's world, where females are rarer than diamonds and the strongest males go mad without a woman's mark to calm them down.
And her?
Labelled the weakest female alive. An F-rank body with a joke of a status.
But hidden inside? Unlimited mental power.
Just as she's figuring out this mess, a system pops up with one hell of an offer:
Complete the missions. Bond with assigned males. Save this world.
Do all that, and you get a one-way ticket back home. for revenge.
Sounds simple? Think again.
A Wolf General, colder than a blizzard, who should have ended her-ended up letting her mark him.
A Fox Prince, all charming smiles and secret schemes, who started playing games only to lose his own heart.
A golden Dragon, sunshine-bright and fiercely possessive, who declares her his destined treasure.
A shadowy Serpent, too patient and too dangerous, watching her every move from the dark.
A Phoenix King, whose love burns so hot he'd reduce empires to cinders for her.
They all need her mark. They all want her.
And sharing? Not in their vocabulary.
Too bad for them-
She's not here for love stories.
She's here to survive.
To climb.
To turn their legendary power into her own stepping stones.
And one day.
To go back and make her betrayers wish they were never born. The Villain's Savior: My Spectacular Comeback
REGINA HUTCHINSON Brandi Ratcliff was the most dedicated core disciple of Silver Peak Academy.
But the moment Seraphina's magic core showed signs of weakness, the Dean and Brandi's trusted peers cornered her.
They demanded she hand over her life-bound Azure Lotus Artifact.
"Give it to her, Brandi. It is for the greater good of the academy."
In her past life, Brandi naively gave in to their pressure.
The result was a brutal betrayal. They forcefully drained her magic circuits dry to transfer the artifact, causing her veins to collapse.
She bled out on the cold stone floor, listening to the very people she trusted praise Seraphina's recovery while stepping over her dying body.
They dismissed her as a necessary, disposable sacrifice.
Until her dying breath, Brandi didn't understand.
Why was her absolute loyalty rewarded with a gruesome death?
Why did she have to be the sacrificial lamb on their altar just because Seraphina knew how to fake a few tears?
Opening her eyes again, the stale, incense-heavy air of the Dean's office filled her lungs.
She was back at the exact moment they demanded her artifact.
Looking at their hypocritical, greedy faces, Brandi didn't defend herself like the desperate girl she once was.
She gripped the lotus and violently severed the soul contract herself, tossing the dead metal onto the desk like garbage.
She threw down her elite silver badge right next to it.
"I am officially withdrawing from Silver Peak Academy."
In this life, she absolutely refused to be their stepping stone. Beast World: They Hated Me, Then I Cooked Them Dinner
Culp Waking up with a cold, scaly hand wrapped around my throat wasn't the worst part.
The worst part was realizing I'd transmigrated into the body of Terra Mason—the most despised woman in the entire Enclave. She drugged high-level beast-men and forced them into life-binding bio-contracts. She locked an aquatic warrior in a dry basement until his organs failed. She treated the most lethal males in the city like broken toys.
Zev, the Level 6 serpent who's currently choking me, would rather blow up his own heart than spend another day as my slave. His affection metric? Negative ninety. His trust? Zero.
Then my system activates: the Kore AI. It gives me exactly 500 credits, a medical nano-gel, and a recipe for neutralizing the radioactive poison in mutant meat. Real food. In this world, that's worth more than gold.
I save Rhys, the dying aquatic male everyone left for dead. I season a slab of purple mutant steak until Sam, a battle-scarred grizzly shifter, groans at the taste—and his trust points finally tick above zero. When my backstabbing ex-best friend tries to steal my males and destroy me, I don't scream or throw a tantrum like the old Terra. I dismantle her with the truth.
But earning their trust means more than grilling meat. A scorpion swarm ambushes us at midnight. Sam throws himself between me and a stinger the size of my arm. As he stands over the corpse, fur receding from his claws, he stares at me and whispers, "You were testing me."
Yes. I was. Because in this world, the weak don't survive. And I refuse to be weak again.
Four beast-men. Four contracts. One system. And a whole lot of steak. Let this dystopian wasteland know—I'm not the monster they remember. I'm worse. I'm the one who's going to feed them until they'd kill for me. Dual Rebirth: Vengeance of the Discarded Daughter
Marnie Nomura Alina was the eldest daughter of the prestigious Padilla family, but everyone mocked her as a defective dud who couldn't cast a single spell.
The moment she woke up, her father and younger sister Karina barged into her room, demanding she sign a transfer agreement to the Aethelgard Order-the most brutal faction on the continent.
It wasn't just a transfer; it was a legal disownment. In her past life, Alina didn't realize Karina was also reborn. She had dropped to her knees and begged to stay. Her reward? Her magic was violently drained from her veins by her own family. Her fiancé drove a blade through her chest, and her sister stood over her bleeding body, smiling. She had ruined her hands making potions for them, only to be discarded like trash.
The phantom pain of her chest being ripped open still burned behind her ribs. Looking at the hypocritical family waiting for her tears, she felt nothing but exhausting disgust. Why should she ever be their stepping stone again?
"For the honor of the family, you leave today."
Her father sneered as she calmly bit her thumb and pressed her bloody fingerprint onto the contract. This time, Alina didn't cry. She packed a single bag and walked out the door, heading straight for the deadly Aethelgard Order to show them what a true monster looked like. Reborn To Swap Husbands With My Sister
Culprit 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. The Vampire Kings And Their Little Mate
Liz Barnet Being stimulated by three overly attractive vampires was the last thing I had ever imagined.
"Oh Jasmine, this is a sight to behold," Archer murmured,landing kisses all along my inner thighs.
Lucien broke the kiss, I could see the lust in his eyes.
Micheal took the turn to kiss me once I caught my breath and Lucien's fingers moved to spread my labia only for me to feel the unexpected lick of Archer's tongue on my clit.
My eyes rolled to the back of my head.
"Feel it..." Lucien growled into my ear, biting my earlobe, "Feel it how we pleasure you, little mate."
******
My whole life I have known my identity as a human but everything changed once I took the job in the Kings' palace as their maid and their attention fell on me.
Black Vale Dynasty was ruled by three powerful Vampire kings. Respected, Obeyed and feared they were the most dangerous predators on the earth. But when my life unknowingly gets entangled with theirs, soon the unimaginable happened—On the night of the full moon, I turned out to be their mate and this puts my whole existence under question.
They did not want to leave me but a human couldn't be the destined mate of a vampire, let alone three.
However, fate pulled the strangest game on me, linking my life to the eliminated Vaidel-Dynasty which was once ruled by the strongest vampire of all time before the rogue attack…that destroyed everything.
Reborn As The Beastmen's Wicked Wife
Rabbit Isolde woke up in a freezing, ruined stone house with a splitting headache and only five percent of her life signs remaining.
Before she could even process the mechanical system voice in her head, a flood of violent memories slammed into her.
She had transmigrated into the body of a cruel noblewoman who mercilessly tortured her beastmen husbands with a barbed whip.
And right now, she was lying in a pool of her own blood, having been shoved against the stone floor by one of them.
Outside the rickety door, her husbands were coldly discussing her death.
"Just go in and finish her. One stab, and we're free."
"If she hit her head and died on her own, then it's an accident. We walk out of here as free males."
To test if she was faking her sudden amnesia, the snake beastman Dangelo even ground his heavy military boot into her injured hand, waiting for her to snap so he could legally end her.
She was poisoned, freezing, and entirely at the mercy of the men who deeply despised her.
She was bearing the deadly consequences of a monster she never was, with a red system warning of imminent death flashing in her mind.
But they didn't know the new Isolde had awakened a survival system and Life Magic.
She swore a blood oath to the Beast God to buy herself three months of time.
Then, she turned her sights to the dying wolf beastman chained in the shed, deciding to pull him back from hell to become her very first shield. Redeeming The Hearts Of My Beasts
rabb I died on an apocalyptic battlefield, only to wake up pinned down by a lead-lined blanket of my own fat.
A violent download of memories hit me. I had transmigrated into the body of an exiled, sadistic noblewoman who was three million coins in debt.
The original owner was an absolute monster. She had purchased beastman guards just to torture them for fun. In the corner of the filthy room, a golden retriever boy cowered, his back shredded by her barbed whip. In the basement, a snake guard was frozen and scarred from constant electro-shocks. When the white tiger guard returned from hard labor, he looked at me with pure, murderous hatred, ready to tear me apart to protect the others. Even the local elites kicked down my door to mock my pathetic life and try to steal my men.
I was a decorated commander who bled for humanity. Why was I trapped in this ruined vessel, bearing the sins of a degenerate abuser?
It was all a setup by her sweet-faced cousin, Debera, who stole her royal life and sent her to this outer-rim hellhole to rot.
I gritted my teeth and plunged a military-grade gene repair serum into my arm, letting the agony burn away the black filth and weakness.
"The crazy woman you knew before is dead."
I tossed a medical kit to the trembling guards, loaded my old electromagnetic pistol, and headed for the deadly Demon Hunting Zone to start my revenge. From Shattered Prodigy to Abyssal Vengeance
Westley Curlin Elara Vex had everything-a flawless ice core, the title of prodigy, and a place at the pinnacle of the High Tower. But in one brutal night, it was all ripped away. Her mentor tore the core from her chest. Her fiancé drove a sword through her back. Her own sister smiled as she bled out on the cold marble floor.
When Elara wakes, she's years in the past, mere hours before her core is scheduled to be stolen. This time, she won't be anyone's sacrificial lamb. She shatters her own core with forbidden blood magic and forges something far more terrifying in its place-a bottomless, ravenous Chaos Core that devours magic itself.
Now, branded a worthless cripple and cast into the deadly Abyss, Elara is pulled from the darkness by the outcasts of Elysium Academy-a school for heretics, psychopaths, and everything the Tower despises. Under the tutelage of a reclusive principal who knew her murdered mother, Elara will master her forbidden power and uncover the Tower's darkest secrets.
When the Five Academies Ranking Tournament arrives, Seraphina Vex stands in the arena, draped in white saintess robes, ready to claim ultimate glory. She doesn't know that a ghost from her past has clawed her way back from hell. She doesn't know that Elara is coming-and this time, the prodigal sister isn't asking for mercy. She's bringing chaos.
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