Why Does The Little Worshiper Want To Know Why In The Novel?

“You’re pretty, but I don’t like ungrateful little boys, bébé.” He informed, clicking his tongue, and pinching my nipple. A moan escaped my lips before I could stop it. What is wrong with me? “So you do love my touch, Ivan.” He teased in satisfaction, his eye’s darkened in lust. My body trembled from his intense stare on my body. Pretty, Bébé, and the stares. He wasn’t straight. “You’re…into men.” I stuttered in realization. He shook his head in response, spinning me around. “No, Ivan. I like naive little boys like you.” He admitted, his eyes lowering to my groin. “How about you?” His eyes were fixed on my groin, “You don’t look that straight to me.” Cristiano Vito is known for his ruthlessness in the underworld, but there was one secret they didn’t know—He’s not straight. What happens when he is being forced to marry a woman against his wish? He detests the idea, and fights against it, but Ivan Hernandez—his fiancée brother changes his mind. Cristiano is determined to have him as his new toy, and agrees to marrying Mia to get closer to Ivan. But the problem? Ivan wasn’t into men or was he?

“But I have lifted my voice in pain to pray to you too. Am I irrelevant? I have done that since I was born. Do I not matter? Do the gods segregate as well?” “Feisty…” he replied, but before he could continue, I glanced at the edge of the cliff for a second, then turned back to him and smiled. “I refuse to be useful to these people you love so much. Even in my death,” I said as I jumped off the cliff. It was the beginning of my complicated fate with the gods and the end of my suffering with werewolves.

I was an ordinary mortal girl who lived at the foot of Mount Olympus. Caelum, King of the Gods, descended from the heavens for me once, transforming himself into a shower of gold. He took me to the peak of Olympus over every other god’s objection. He built a shrine on the mountain that belonged to me alone, every god on Olympus knew the same truth: I was the only mortal love of Caelum’s endless life. Then I gave birth to our daughter, Nia. The Fates declared her a cursed child whose existence would bring disaster to the gods, and Nia and I were sent back down to the small cottage at the foot of the mountain. Seraphina, Goddess of Flame, said she could help cleanse Nia of the curse, and with Caelum’s quiet consent she came every month and burned my daughter with divine fire. Nia screamed under that fire, sobbing for me . I ran into the temple to beg Caelum to stop it, and I found him in bed with Seraphina. The pure, holy Goddess of Flame was moaning beneath him. They threw me into the depths of Tartarus, where Seraphina handed me over to the Erinyes to be torn apart day after day. When Nia turned five, they finally let me out, but by then my Nia had been burned to ash. The day I was gathering her ashes, the message stone in my room suddenly lit up, and a projection flickered out of it: Caelum, as he had been five years ago. His eyes were full of joy and anticipation, and his voice was so gentle it almost made me believe time had folded back on itself. “Sweetheart, is it a boy or a girl? Did our child inherit my power?” In the projection his expression shifted, and the smile froze on his face. That was when the door of my room was pushed open, and the present-day Caelum, five years older than the man in the stone, strode inside. I turned the message stone around so the Caelum from five years ago could see Nia’s urn with his own eyes. “It’s a girl,” I said. “But she didn’t live long enough to inherit your power. She was burned to ash.”

I had always been obedient and compliant. I never dared to disobey others' instructions. The day my wealthy biological parents brought me home, my adoptive brother leaned close to my ear and sneered arrogantly, "The position of the Spencer family's heir belongs to me. If you know what's good for you, get lost on your own." I nodded obediently. Then I turned around and threw myself straight into rush-hour traffic on the highway. My parents nearly lost their minds. Panicked and trembling, they dragged me back into the car, their faces drained white with terror. My sister's expression darkened as she warned me coldly in my ear, "If you pull another stunt for attention, believe me, I'll throw you right back into the doghouse you came from." I obediently listened. That very night, I locked myself inside a dog crate. My sister froze in complete shock. Gritting her teeth, she yanked me out, staring at me like she'd seen a ghost. Later, when my adoptive brother pretended to be sick, my sister forced me to donate blood for him. I obediently took the knife. Without the slightest hesitation, I slashed straight through the artery in my wrist. By the time my parents rushed over, blood had just begun spraying out. They screamed in horror and lunged forward to press against my wound. "Somebody call 911! Now!!!" My sister had gone just as pale. After a long moment of stunned silence, she finally stammered, "Mom, Dad… I only told him to donate a little blood to Eric. I never told him to slit his wrist…" I blinked. My sister wasn't lying. She really hadn't taught me that. It was something the traffickers taught me during the five years my family personally handed me over to them—to "learn obedience."

He died killing the Demon King. He woke up sixty years too early. Now the monster is a young man. And he is running out of reasons to stay away. --- Lysan Dusk was the hero who saved humanity. He killed the Demon King, ended the war, and delivered the world from suffering, and his reward was betrayal. He wakes up in a young student's body in a dormitory room of a magical academy, and the calender shows that the date sixty years before he was born. The world outside hasn't broken yet. The war hasn't happened. Lysan's plan is to keep it that way by staying completely out of it. Fail his combat exams, spend whatever borrowed time he has left, living a quiet life, where nothing requires him to be a hero. The man who will become the Demon King, the most feared monster in history is still young and beautiful, with pale grey eyes that find Lysan across every crowded room like he is the only person worth seeing. Lysan knows what those eyes will become. He has looked into them across battlefields, spent a lifetime seeing them in nightmares. He never expected it to feel like this up close. Roman is everything Lysan was warned about — magnetic, dangerous, impossible to ignore. Everyone except Lysan, refuses to be charmed, refuses to feel anything at all. But now, he is failing spectacularly at them because Roman keeps finding him. Keeps watching him and making Lysan's carefully rebuilt walls feel like paper. Lysan knows the ending. But for the first time in two lifetimes, he is wondering if the ending can change. If the monster can be loved instead of killed. If staying is braver than running.

There are a lot of supernatural beings around us that we didn't know they're actually living or true. Once they are just a myth, a fantasy, a mere story, but then one day, you didn't realize it was standing right in front of you now. Avis Clove, just like a normal people, we have a lot of questions about the existence of gods or deities. And sometimes those questions don't meet their answers. She grew up knowing the stories of her grandmother about a two gods and one girl who's in between of the gods, and she believes it was just fantasy story that is just made up by her grandma. But, then she met the characters in that story, and the questions in her mind starting to find its answers. In this novel, about the three people who is fated to meet each other, but leads to the most unwanted happenings of their life. What will they do? What will Avis Clove choose? Will the love wins? Who will be the end game?