Novel & Cerita Fox Bloody Roar

"Do you really think someone like you is worthy of love?" he whispered in Eleanor's ear, making her body shudder in fear. "I... I don't know," she stuttered, her voice trembling, eyes fixed on the ground to avoid his piercing gaze. "I would never love a weak wolf like you, an aberration," he spat with disdain, his words filled with anger. "You shame our kind, Eleanor!" She slowly lifted her eyes to meet his intense gaze. "Do you hate me for this?" she asked, her voice faltering. "Hate?" He tilted his head, a cruel smile forming on his lower lip. "Hate is too soft a word. I feel repulsion towards you, disgust at being tied to such an insignificant being." Eleanor fought back tears as she heard his next words. "I, Asher Bennett, future Alpha of the Bloody Moon Pack, reject Eleanor Parker as my mate!" he growled angrily, turning away with contempt. "Never dare to say you're my mate again, You have a choice, Eleanor. You can bow down and accept your miserable fate... or you can fight, like the fool you are, thinking you have any chance." "A miserable fate for a wretched girl, what more could Eleanor Parker expect? After being brutally rejected by her mate and betrayed by her stepsister, sold like an animal by those who wished her dead, she rises from the ashes beside the great and supreme Alpha King Lynca, the cruelest of all werewolves capable of killing anyone who dares to disobey him. "I thought I signed my death sentence with the bloodthirsty Alpha King, responsible for hundreds of deaths. Yet, he became my rebirth, making me feel alive. Love drew me toward the abyss between us, where I could easily lose myself." Eleanor sighed, meeting his mesmerizing arctic blue eyes.

Ethan and I met at a soup kitchen in the slums. We were fighting over half a moldy bread roll. I only learned his story from other people later. His father was the head of Lorencio's largest crime family, killed in a bloody power struggle from within. His mother took a payout and vanished. My father was an accountant for another family. He was framed for cooking the books and shot dead. Same story, same wound. That was what brought us together. We clawed our way up from a crumbling slum to the marble halls of the Lorencio crime families, until finally Ethan took his seat as Don of the Valeria Family. Nine years of marriage. No church. No proposal. Not even a proper cake. Then one day, out of nowhere, Ethan said he wanted to get me a diamond ring. "We had no church and no priest when we got married. I've been meaning to do this properly for a long time. And there'll be more to come." I stared at the custom diamond in the display case, enormous and flawless, and felt something close to happiness. The sales associate smiled and complimented his taste, mentioning that another couple had just ordered a ring too. They'd walked out minutes ago, planning a proposal for tomorrow. "Nine years together and still this in love. That's everything." I reached for his hand. He stepped away, said he needed to take a call. I hadn't heard his phone ring. I followed. Down the hallway, I watched him press a woman against the wall, his mouth on hers. His voice was sharp with jealousy. "You actually agreed to let him propose to you?" "Break it off. I'll buy you the ring." I stood frozen. My chest caved in. Then a pair of hands pulled me into a fitting room alcove. A man's breath was close, warm in the dark. A low voice, almost amused: "Your husband's sleeping with my fiancée. Why don't we give it a try too?"

Before the drop tower started, my best friend gave a look, and my boyfriend, with perfect tacit understanding, suddenly unbuckled his safety harness and ran off with her. I was left completely stunned on the drop tower by myself. My boyfriend stood in the safety zone with a beaming smile. "Freya said you're a scaredy-cat and need to be frightened more to get braver, so you're riding alone." The drop tower started. Looking at my comical appearance when terrified, my best friend held her stomach, laughing uproariously as she took photos. My boyfriend opened his mouth to say something as he helplessly steadied the camera lens for her. I couldn't hear the words he said, but I guessed it must have been: "Once you've laughed enough, don't tease her again. It's bad enough Cleo's so shy." I'm a timid person. Growing up together for twenty years, this was always how they accompanied me to build my bravery. When we were little, my best friend intentionally threw pebbles to draw over stray dogs. Then, he carried her on his back to climb up a wall, leaving me to be chased by the dogs and run all over the courtyard. During high school, in the vaulting class, my best friend suddenly pulled away the mat. He laughed and kicked away the rolling foam pad, watching me receive two bloody gashes from the impact. In college, we went on a night hike together. My best friend intentionally shook me off, and he followed her into the bushes to make noises, leaving me in the dark, so terrified I couldn't catch my breath. Every single time I shook with fear, it was met with a bout of loud laughter from my best friend. And standing behind her, he was forever saying a single phrase: "Don't do it next time." However, each "next time" would turn into a new joke for her happiness. The drop tower climbed to twenty meters, and the sensation of weightlessness pushed right up to the back of my throat. Suddenly, though, I felt there was nothing left to be afraid of. The drop tower reached the ground, and two pairs of hands reached over to support me. I pushed them away. "From now on, I don't need you guys to help me build my courage anymore."