Outlander Does Claire Die

This book is for viewers above the age of 18. It may contain explicit and violent scenes not suitable for all viewers. If you're not into dark romance you might find this disturbing. Her body hit the wall, her breath trembling as her eyes darted across my face. I knew that look — the one that screams lust. It made my mouth water instantly. “Stay back,” she gasped, her voice unsteady. But I did the opposite. As our bodies pressed together, I felt her tremble beneath me. “I just want you and that… that—” she faltered, the words dying as my hands found her hips. “That what, Mrs. Claire?” I murmured. She swallowed hard. Mrs. Claire — the woman who lets desire consume her. The woman I can’t get out of my head. --- Mrs. Claire: How did I find myself in this mess? I only wanted them to leave my family alone. But now… here I am, caught in a scandal of my own. What happens when your husband's mistress boyfriend becomes your Dom.

Princess Claire is the most beautiful, elegant and respected princess among all the seven princesses of Aither kingdom being the king's favourite earn her a lot of hatred but she couldn't care less as she dominate the palace. Falling into a trap one night she suddenly became fiancé to Prince Michael her 'Hansome Savior' but having to move to another Kingdom where she's the last and powerless among the other princesses, Princess Claire fought her way to the top trampling on her opponents and dominating her husband Kingdom. Prince Michael is the last prince of his kingdom with no interest in the throne unlike his three brothers he chose the business world but after an incident he became engaged to Princess Claire, they both have lot of misunderstanding especially about prince Michael first love who he can't seems to get over. He tried to change his fiancee thought about things and ended falling in love with her.

When Serena finds herself mated to her oppressor, she knew she was one of the few wolves that the moon goddess hated. She has resolve, bring down her old mate and make sure everybody pays for what they have done to her. Lycan king Ardan has to find his mate before he turns thirty and time is running out. He feels betrayed when his mate turns out to be a lowlife omega who was rejected by her first mate for infidelity. Ardan would rather die than go within an inch of Serena but mate bonds have a way of bringing even he strongest of men to their knees, and Ardan will not be an exception.

I was Claire Vitale, the lost daughter they forgot, the bride my lover betrayed—and the dying girl they failed to notice. For five long years, I lived like a stranger in my own home. The Vitale mansion was a beautiful prison, where every kind word hid a lie, every promise was false, and even Lawrence, the man I was supposed to marry, cared more for Vanessa than for me. None of them saw how my body weakened each day, how the pain grew sharper. They were too busy watching their precious Vanessa. Vanessa—the perfect adopted daughter, was the girl my parents loved more than me. She came into our family when I was lost, and when I returned, I found my place already taken—by her. Just as the illness was quietly taking my future. Now she was gone, and they all pointed fingers at me, convinced I was behind her disappearance. The machine they strapped to my head would pull memories straight from my mind. "Where is she?" my father roared. My mother sobbed in the corner. Lawrence, my fiancé, stood silent—his accusing eyes louder than any shout. But I knew the truth would shock them—how Vanessa hurt me, how she faked accidents, how she made sure no one ever believed me. The machine would show them everything. As the machine began its work, I trembled—from fear and exhaustion. After all these years of being unheard, would they finally see?

On my birthday, my husband, Adrian Grant, suddenly showed up with my adoptive younger sister, Bella Reed, and her child, Tia Reed. When it was time to head out, he naturally arranged for Bella to sit in the front passenger seat. Then he turned to me and said calmly, "Tia gets carsick easily. The back seat is full of stuff. Since you're healthy, just take the bus." Our friends immediately chimed in, one after another, "You're the older sister. Taking care of your niece is only right." Four cars were heading out, yet not one seat was left for me, the supposed main character of the day. I sat on the bus, swallowing my grievance, and saw Adrian and Bella interacting ambiguously in the group chat. They were even talking about topics I knew nothing about. When I opened the newly sent video, nothing except leftovers remained on the table prepared for me. Adrian even treated the birthday cake I had carefully prepared as dessert, spoon-feeding it to Bella and her daughter. Someone finally couldn’t stand it anymore and asked whether this was appropriate. Adrian, who was carefully wiping Bella’s mouth, didn’t even look up. "We’re all family. Julia won’t be angry." At that point, our seven-year marriage came to its end.

In the VIP lounge of an underground casino, Maeve, the Falcone family's princess, had been plied with too much hard liquor. Fueled by alcohol, someone goaded her into revealing the most shameless thing she'd ever done to win over the Don. She swirled her glass, pointed at me dealing cards behind the table, and threw her head back with a laugh. "Seven years ago, when Declan was in a coma after a shootout, I took his private phone. And I deleted the distress message that bitch sent him. Every last trace of it. Then I replied in his name: You're a burden. Go die." "You'll never guess what happened next. That idiot stood outside the safe house all night in a downpour, like a stray dog. I almost died laughing…" The room erupted in crude laughter. Only the man enthroned at the head of the table remained silent. The crystal whiskey glass in his hand shattered with a sharp crack. Blood mixed with the amber liquor, trickling over the veins on the back of his hand before dripping onto the carpet. His murderous, bloodshot eyes were locked on me. I calmly dealt the last hole card in front of him and offered a clean, white silk handkerchief. "Don Declan, you should wipe your hand. Blood on the felt is bad luck." After all, some stains never wash out.