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The Alpha's Beloved Little Mate

The Alpha's Beloved Little Mate

(Book 1.5 of the Mate’s Series) "W-why are you doing this?" Her voice is like the sweetest song in my ears. "I-I'm not good enough to be your mate... l-let alone the Luna. S-so why... why are you accepting me? I-I don't understand..." I take her hands carefully and look into her eyes, which shimmer like violet gemstones in the moonlight. "I've always known you're my mate, Ebony. I'd never reject you. You're too lovely and adorable." As Ebony's pale face turns a soft pink, I lean forward and kiss her cheek. "B-but I'll do a terrible job. I... I... I'm not strong enough... I won't be any good to anyone..." As tears brim in her eyes, I pull her into a hug. "I love you, always and forever. So please... don't turn your back on me. But most of all... never put yourself down." I hold her close. "Didn't I tell you before? You'd be the one to give me the best birthday present of my life. So please... don't push me away, Ebony." ~~~~~~ From the moment Skylar saw Ebony, he knew she was the one for him. Everyone thought it was merely love at first sight—a simple crush that would fade away—but that couldn't be further from the truth. Being the son of a true Luna, he was born with his wolf, Jaden, already awakened and could tell who his mate was immediately. With Ebony by his side, nothing could stop him as he learns to become Crimson Moon Pack's next alpha, but an unwanted guest soon appears, breaking his blissful honeymoon phase. As he and his mate are tested, will they be able to work as a perfect team? Or will inner conflicts make it impossible?
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The Don's Hidden Heiress: Last Week Alive

The Don's Hidden Heiress: Last Week Alive

When I drink the amber-colored poisonous wine, I can hear the joyful melody of a toast song coming from the manor. The wedding between Emanuela Romano and my ex-fiance, Benedetto Martini, is being held there right now. The elderly butler, Vincenzo Romano, puts away the wine glass with a blank expression. The way he speaks is as somber as one sounds when they give a speech at a funeral. "You know the Don's will very well, Ms. Andreotti. Five years are officially up, yet neither Mr. Andreotti, Mr. Martini, nor Dr. Foscari is willing to pledge their loyalty to you via the blood vow. According to the rules, you must take your own life within seven days. "The Don had left the Ashwine to you as a means of protecting… what little pride you have." Scorching pain begins spreading from my throat. I just smile at Vincenzo in return. Pride? Does a bastard spawn of a loose Iernian woman deserve to retain pride of any sort in the cruel Andreotti family? I begin making my way toward the banquet hall, which is brightly lit. As I walk past the shimmering waters of the pond in the family garden, I can tell that the waters are insanely cold. Then again, nothing is as cold as my icy heart right now. After taking a deep breath, I fall face-first into the pond… only to feel an iron-clad grip wrenching me backward. As such, I collapse onto the lawn heavily. My older brother, Alessandro Andreotti, has bits of grass covering his expensive suit. Disgust is written all over his handsome face. "Eva!" he grits out through his teeth, his voice lowered. "Must you spoil the mood on Emanuela's big day?" He then scoots closer to me, his alcohol-tinged breath fanning over my face. "You want to die, huh? Go ahead and do that, but can you die somewhere further? Don't stain the Andreotti land!" Alessandro turns to walk in the direction of the radiant lights, leaving me on the lawn, completely covered in mud. I can feel the countdown of my lifespan burning my insides. Seven days… I only have seven days to live. Meanwhile, my very own brother wants me to die somewhere further away.
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The Secret Behind the Exam

The Secret Behind the Exam

I have always had an almost pathological sense of paranoia. Ever since I was a child, I was convinced that the people around me were out to get me. Back in elementary school, when everyone was lining up for their student ID photos, I flatly refused to have mine taken. I insisted that the district office was going to use my picture for identity theft. The situation escalated so badly that the principal had to personally sit me down and spend half an hour trying to convince me otherwise. Then, there was the fingerprint registration system in middle school. The school required every student to submit their fingerprints to access the campus buildings. I was so terrified that someone would steal my biometric data that I literally rubbed the skin off all ten fingertips to make them unreadable. Even when my fingers were bleeding, I kept shouting that they were trying to steal my identity. I would rather climb over the school fence every day than cooperate. Every relative I had called me crazy. My parents were so fed up that they seriously considered having me admitted to a psychiatric hospital. I did not care. I guarded my privacy with obsessive determination, gritting my teeth and holding my ground all the way up to the eve of the final exams. Then came the day before the exam. That afternoon, our homeroom teacher, Tracy Collins, walked into the classroom carrying a metal lockbox. A warm, motherly smile spread across her face as she set it down on the desk. "Everyone," she said, "to make sure nobody forgets their documents tomorrow, I'd like you to hand over your IDs and exam admission slips for safekeeping tonight." She patted the lockbox reassuringly. "Tomorrow morning, I'll personally return them to each of you outside the testing center. This way, there's absolutely nothing that can go wrong." The class was deeply moved by her thoughtfulness. Some students even looked close to tears as they eagerly pulled out their documents and lined up to hand them over. Everyone except me. My hand clamped down over my pocket so tightly that my knuckles turned white. Cold sweat poured down my back. A sharp alarm bell was ringing in my head. Trying not to attract attention, I fished out a spare flip phone from my bag, ducked beneath my desk, and dialed emergency services. As soon as the call connected, I lowered my voice and spoke into the receiver. "Hello. I'd like to report a crime. My name is Charles. "I believe a teacher at St. Alden High is working with an identity-fraud ring and is planning a large-scale operation tonight involving examination fraud and identity theft."
216 viewsCompletedAdded to Library 5 Times as bell song daffodil
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