Elden Ring Unable To Summon Novels & Stories

Before the mate ceremony, my Alpha mate, Corbin Wren, promised to take me to the Maldives. But when we got to the airport, I realized— My ticket said Switzerland, while his and his childhood sweetheart Vera Marsh's were booked for the Maldives. Vera blinked tearfully and explained, "It was my fault—I mixed up the booking info and accidentally swapped Sera's and my details." Corbin, who'd been holding my hand, let go and gently soothed her. "It's fine. We can rebook. Sera and I won't hold it against you." I watched the two of them, so perfectly in sync, and thought back to all the times Corbin had brushed me aside because of Vera. And suddenly, it hit me—they were the ones who belonged together. So be it. Let them go enjoy their vacation. This Alpha? I'm done.

My adopted sister, an Omega who has always seemed delicate, harmless, and wolf-less, vanishes the night before full moon. Everyone, including my parents and my mate—the Alpha who's supposed to protect me—blames me for driving her away. They drag me to the Memory Offering altar, bind my wolf in silver chains, and demand the truth from my memories. Little do they know that my body has been laced with 99 silver needles, buried deep under my skin, each one driven in by the hand of the innocent girl they adore the most. The silverbane has seeped through my blood, eating away at my bones and my wolf spirit. I don't have long. So, I seize control. I invoke the oldest rite in the pack, the Memory Offering, to let them see the truth with their own eyes. For three years, I've been the one who was framed, humiliated, and tortured. Meanwhile, my so-called gentle sister is the real monster behind it all. By the time the truth is revealed, the silverbane has devoured my soul. Bathed in the blinding white light of the rite, I die on that cold, stone altar, with a pain that cuts to the bone and a peace that feels almost like freedom.

On the day we decided to get a divorce, I saw Miranda’s account book while I was packing up my stuff. Aside from our daily expenses, Miranda had also set up a scoring sheet for me. Miranda had taken notes of all the things I had done ever since we started dating. Some of them were such miniscule things that even I had forgotten. She took note of them all with a red pen, and she scored them by either awarding me points or deducting them. However, the further down the sheet, the more points were deducted. In the end, I saw Miranda add one line in black ink. [He’s no longer the Henry Jones who used to love me: -100]

Contract marriage. (No string attached) Setting_ Los Angeles. Modern billionaire Romance. Proloque. Aryan Mahir, the CEO of A&M investment company who's produce the best quality brands in the whole Los Angeles, he can be describe to be cold hearted, grumpy, proud and egocentric. In order to maintain his status in the business world, he was to get married immediately, in order to get the biggest contract his rival companies are eyeing. He was set to find a wife as soon as possible. * Mia Johnson, a pity poor lady who suffered to make ends meet, she goes above and beyond just to send her only surviving brother to school, she lost her parents in a car accident, she grew up having almost everything in life, she lived a comfortable life until the world crashed around her and her parents was involved in a car accident that took thier lives, her uncle snatched away everything her parents owned leaving them with no money, and not even a shelter to live in. Everything gets worse when her brother fall very ill and needed an urgent brain tumor surgery, having no money, she tried to begged her uncle to at least help her brother but he threw her out of his house. Wandering around the lonely Street of Los Angeles, she bumped into a billionaire who happened to change her life forever. What happened when Aryan Mahir asked Mia to marry him for four months. For her to save her brother, she had to agree to the contract marriage, loveless marriage to a complete arrogant jerk. Will they love each other or their marriage will end immediately after the contract expires. *

After three grueling years of studying, I finally made it into the city agency. Then at a family banquet, I found out that my cousin, Gina Forrest—the one I'd seen at a hometown reunion—had also landed a job in the exact same unit. During the family dinner, right in front of our uncle, who happens to be a senior official, my cousin shoved a doctored confidential document into my hands. She suddenly shrieked, collapsed to the floor, and scattered the papers everywhere. "Clara! That's classified agency material! How could you sneak it out to show an outsider? Just for some lousy commission?" Our uncle slammed the table in rage, declaring he would uphold justice over family ties—have me fired on the spot and report me up the chain. Then, right in front of me, a line of on-screen text floated by. [Gina has really lost her mind. Doesn't she know the main character is the undercover inspection team leader sent specifically to investigate her?] [And look at the uncle still putting on his act. The team's car will be pulling up outside any minute.] Reading the on-screen text, I took a slow sip of tea and said to Gina, who was falling all over herself to prove her loyalty, "This document is classified, all right. But you changed the wrong part." Then I turned to my uncle and said, "And you just said you would uphold justice over family ties? Perfect. You can come back with me to the team and explain all those hiring violations over the past few years." Gina was stunned. The government system she had been killing herself to get into—I was the one in charge of evaluating her.

"If staying in prison is too harsh, warming my bed should be better, right?" He whispered into my ears, his eyes burning and his tone husky. With a push, I landed on his bed, my body shaking violently under his burning gaze, "For a filthy whore, fucking you gently isn't a punishment so I've prepared some things for you," Xavier bent over, revealing his perfect set of abs and his strong abdominal muscles. He grabbed my chin and forced my head up, showing me sets of sex toys he had prepared for me. "Shout for me, slut!" "Scream, Whore," Slowly but steadily, I became Xavier's bed warmer and sex toy... But what could be more achy than forbidden love? I got pregnant for my brother! However, Liam entered and gave me a new chance. "I will love you, fight for you, and make him pay," This was his vow to me~

We had been married for five years, but Chuck Gorman spent more than half his time at the condo opposite the river. He claimed that his older brother, Calvin, had passed away at a young age, leaving behind his widow, who had no one to depend on, and that as Calvin's brother, he was responsible for taking care of both families. This was a Gorman family value of upholding loyalty and kinship. I had believed his words then. To help him uphold his loyalty and dignity, I tolerated it whenever he was absent during important holidays and said nothing when he split his time between his sister-in-law and me during Christmas dinner. I even had to hold back my tongue when others mocked me for being a weak woman who was willing to 'share her husband'. However, Chuck had always been gentle yet distant when he spoke to me. This continued until we were involved in an accident with several collisions. The car we were in was wrecked. As I shielded my heavily pregnant belly, I broke out in cold sweat from the pain. I kept hitting the window while shouting, "Chuck! Save the baby…" Chuck climbed out from the driver's seat and glanced at my bleeding body, only to turn away to pry open the car door of the back seat. He shielded Sandi Lemming tightly in his arms, holding her against his chest despite her suffering only minor scratches on the forehead. "Don't look, Sandi. It's okay. I'm right here." He patted her gently on the back while comforting her over and over to calm her nerves. As for me, I was stuck inside the car due to the dented car door. I realized that it was not loyalty and kinship he was practising. He was just unable to see Sandi come to harm at all.

I am the wife of Anthony Caster, don of the mafia family in New York. When I was nine months pregnant, he brought a woman named Evelyn Graves into the manor, claiming she’d saved his life. That was the day my nightmare began. She put something in my food. Next thing I knew, I was doubled over in pain. And she had the nerve to blame it on me—said I was being reckless with what I ate. She lost her footing and fell down the stairs, but she told everyone I was the one who shoved her. Every day, she’d cry in front of Anthony about how saving him had left her wounded and unable to bear children, how seeing a pregnant woman broke her heart. But the moment she turned to me, the tears were gone, replaced by a cold smile. “As long as I’m here,” she whispered, “your babies will never be born.” Anthony was convinced I was jealous of her. He locked me away in the abandoned attic of the manor and said, “Reflect on your actions and stop bullying Evelyn.” On the first day they shut me in, the contractions began. I screamed, I begged, I banged on the door. The butler heard me and went to inform Anthony. He said, “Amelia, your due date is three days away. Stop putting on an act. Three days in a snowstorm and you came out fine. This? You can handle this.” On the second day, my water broke. I screamed at the top of my lungs, my fingernails digging into the cracks of the wall, blood spilling all over the floor. The butler went to Anthony again. Evelyn said, “Anthony, she’s making all that noise because she wants you to feel sorry for her and let her out. If you give in now, she’ll only grow more reckless later.” He believed her. On the third day, I stopped screaming. Anthony thought I had finally learned my lesson, unaware that I had already died from the difficult labor. When he finally opened that door, all he would find was my rotting, putrid body.

“All I see,” he added, “is a horny Alpha trying to prove a point.” Then he looked down and pointed at me. “And you really do look like someone who hasn’t been fucked in a long time.” “You look terrified, Alpha.” Alpha Frederick should kill him for his insolence. Instead, his wolf roars inside his head: “DON’T YOU DARE HURT OUR MATE!” The omega is reckless, sharp-tongued, and completely immune to fear. Worse, he carries a secret almost unheard of among their kind. “He can bear children.” Alpha General Frederick Lawson has ruled the northern territories through fear, violence, and absolute control. Then a chained omega walks into his courtyard and ruins everything. Now Frederick is trapped between obsession and rage, torn apart by a bond he does not understand and a man he cannot dominate.

After the Ferguson family went bankrupt, I gave up everything I had and followed Ethan Ferguson to Stormbay. Five years later, he had fought his way back into the top three on the Forbes rich list. He rebuilt the empire everyone believed he had lost for good. He never mentioned marriage, no matter how much we had been through together. I did not understand the reason until the night before Memorial Day. I woke after midnight and saw Ethan standing alone on the terrace of our beachfront house. The cold ocean wind swept through the darkness while he lit three white candles one by one. Their flames flickered softly against the night. He faced the distant horizon across the sea and lowered his voice. “Mom, Dad… I’m sorry I couldn’t come see you again this year.” He paused, and his expression softened. “However, please keep watching over Vivi. Keep her healthy… and bless the two of us with a long, happy life together.” Warmth spread through my chest as I listened. My health had never been good, and every year near Memorial Day, Ethan refused to let me exhaust myself with the long trip home. He always went alone to visit his parents’ graves while I stayed behind in Stormbay. This year, when I saw the homesickness in his eyes, I decided to surprise him. I wanted to make the trip in his place. I never expected my entire world to collapse the moment I arrived at the cemetery. Ethan’s name was carved into the headstone. Beside it was the name of another woman. Olivia Ferguson. My gaze drifted lower. A framed family photograph sat at the foot of the headstone. Its edges had curled from the ocean wind. In the picture, Ethan held a little blond-haired boy in his arms. The child looked no older than three. Olivia stood beside him, smiling softly at the camera. A sharp pain cut through my chest. Only then did I understand the truth. The “Vivi” Ethan prayed for was never Vivian. It had been Olivia all along.