Titans Death Mga Nobela at Kwento

At the request of my sister, Wendy Moonveil, the whole family explored the outer woods, only to be attacked by rogues. My fated mate, Allen Sangre, scooped Wendy into his arms and broke through the aggressors. My parents, Terence and Camile Moonveil, dodged the attacks with agility before making a run back to the pack. Terence even found the time to keep the kitten bought recently for Wendy safe in his embrace. That night, they returned and shared their thrilling close call on social media, celebrating their lucky escape from the clutches of vicious rogues. One thing slipped their mind, though. Their delicate Omega was still surrounded by the rogues—alone and without help.

Just because I forget to bring my mate's lover back—leaving her alone in the wilderness for three hours—he flies into a rage and throws me into an abandoned well in the desolate countryside. "You need to experience the torment that Belinda was put through." The well is deep and narrow, forcing me to curl up in my wolf form. I struggle to breathe. I plead for mercy and beg for forgiveness. However, all he does is tell me off icily. "Stay there and repent for your sins. You'll only understand the dignity required of a Luna once you learn your lesson from this." He orders his men to seal the well with a large boulder. I let out anguished howls and roars as I claw my way upward. However, I only fall back down over and over again. The walls of the well are covered in my claw marks. I continue like this until I can't make a sound through my parched throat. … Half a month later, my mate's heart softens when he sees the birthday gift I've prepared in advance for him. He decides to end my punishment. Unbeknownst to him, worms and snakes have already gnawed my body beyond recognition at the bottom of the well.

In the third year after my death, my wife, a lawyer named Serena Collier, wants me to take the blame and go to prison for her first love, Declan Merritt, once again. She arrives at my hometown carrying a confession statement she prepared, only to discover the place has long since fallen into ruin. Feeling panicked, she has no choice but to ask the neighbors where I am. My neighbor says, "You're asking about Fletcher Whitmore? He's been dead for a long time! I hear that a victim's family hunted him down for revenge and beat him to death after he got out of prison." Serena refuses to believe it. She thinks that my neighbor is in cahoots with me to deceive her. With a disgusted expression, she lets out a cold snort. She sneers, "All I did was put him behind bars for a few years. Now, he even dares to lie to me! "Tell him this for me—if he doesn't show up in court that day, he can forget about me giving another cent to his mother in the mental hospital!" After saying that, she storms off angrily. Watching her stubborn figure disappear into the distance, my neighbor sighs heavily. "But his mother already starved to death in that mental hospital a long time ago…"

My fiancé's first love was taking photos on a cliff before the landslide. To save her, he actually left me behind on the crumbling edge. I pleaded with him to save me. "Lucy isn't physically strong—she can't handle this alone. You've always been resilient. I'll get Lucy to safety first, then come back for you." Their silhouettes vanished over the ridge. After a brief commotion, everything went silent. Including me, with my freshly sprained ankle. When he saw the news of my death, he completely fell apart.

Lucien sent me onto the transplant table with his own hands to save the foster sister he treasured most. “Elara, this is what you owe Sylvie.” “Give her your kidney, and I’ll let you remain the Luna of this pack.” He did not know that five years ago, when the northern wolf keep caught fire, the one who carried him out of the flames had never been Sylvie. It had been me. He knew even less that I had long since reached the final stage of soul-wolf collapse. I had only forty-eight hours left. This kidney was the last thing keeping me alive. On the day of the operation, he stood outside Sylvie’s healing chamber, speaking to her softly and refusing to leave her side. Meanwhile, in the transplant room next door, my heart stopped. When news of my death reached him, he only sneered and called it another one of my tricks. Not until much later did he unfold the blood-soaked rescue record from the northern fire and see the photograph attached to it. Mine. Alpha, your Luna left one final message before she died. “She says this life is returned to you.” “In the next one, may you never meet again.” So why are you losing your mind now, Lucien? Isn’t this exactly the ending you wanted?

When my body is sealed behind a wall, he's busy celebrating his true love's birthday. Everyone says Jayden Stone and I are a match made in heaven, but he hates me to the bone. When news of my death reaches him, he kicks over my corpse with a sneer. "Officer Austen, your revenge is complete…" Later, someone finally tells him that I was the one who saved his life. He shows up at my grave, his eyes swollen from crying. He begs like a madman for me to come back...

Natalie Brooke asked me to cook dumplings for her stepfather, Michael Sawyer. When the dumplings were knocked over and burned Michael's hand, she assumed that I was being disrespectful to an elder. So, she ordered the bodyguards to put me into a large pot, saying she would boil me until I was cooked as punishment. "Since you burned Michael, I will make you pay the price!" The water in the pot grew hotter, causing my whole body to be scalded red. All I could breathe was the scorching steam. I desperately pounded on the lid, but it had long been locked. I screamed in despair as I clawed the edges with all my strength. Blood overflowed from the pot and dripped onto the ground, but no one cared. Just before I succumbed to death, I summoned the system and yelled, "I want to go back! I refuse to save Natalie. I don't care if she becomes a vegetable!"

Three years ago, my childhood sweetheart, Eleanor Carter, left me at the altar to marry Dillan Perez—the adopted son of my family. The church erupted in whispers. I became the laughingstock in a single breath. Then Victoria Brown—the aloof, formidable CEO of the Brown Group—stepped forward. "I'll marry you, Lambert," she said, her voice cutting through the wreckage of my pride. I said yes. For three years, she was the perfect wife. Gentle. Attentive. She was my salvation. But there was one thing that always hung between us like a quiet ache—we never had a child. The doctors found nothing wrong with either of us. Victoria would just smile softly and say, "It will happen when the time is right." Today, I came home early. The door to our bedroom was slightly open. I heard her voice. She was on the phone with her best friend. I didn't mean to listen. But then I heard my name. "Lambert wants a child with me," she said. "But he doesn't know I've been on birth control the whole time. That's why we never got pregnant." My blood turned cold. "As long as he has no heir," she continued, "Dillan's place in the Clark family stays secure." I stood there, frozen. My hands went cold. My heart shattered into pieces. I was just a tool to protect the man she truly cared for. I didn’t confront her. Instead, I calmly planned my death—a quiet disappearance from her world.

My brother, Theo Sorento, died in a plane crash on his way back home just to celebrate my birthday. They never found his body—only wreckage. Ever since, my parents forced me to kneel in front of his grave every year on my birthday, demanding that I repent for surviving when he didn’t. Then came my eighteenth birthday. I realized someone was following me. Panicked, I sent a few messages asking for help. Just then, Mom called, not to check on me but to lash out. “I know exactly what you're doing. You’re just making up excuses so you don’t have to kneel in front of your brother’s grave! You’re a liar. Why wasn’t it you who died instead of him? You’re a walking curse!” Before my phone was smashed under a boot, the last thing I heard was the cold click of her hanging up. Then, I was cut up into pieces, and what was left of me was tossed across the city. My father, the lead forensic pathologist on my case, didn’t even recognize me. Later, Theo returned alive with his wife, whom he had eloped with eight years ago. When they found out the pile of rotting flesh was me, they all went insane.

It was at our engagement banquet that I finally learned the truth. I wasn't the true heiress of a noble human family. I wasn't the "fated bride" destined to bear a half-blood child for the vampires. I was just the wrong baby someone had brought home from the hospital. A fake. I'd thought that Alexander, the boy who'd risked his life to drag me out of a burning house, the boy I'd grown up beside, would love me the same as always. Instead, in front of everyone, he let go of my hand and looked down at me with cold eyes. "Without that bloodline, do you really think you deserve to stand beside me?" Then he reached out and slid the engagement ring off my finger himself. He turned, and led the true heiress up to the high platform. Everyone laughed at me. The fake heiress, delusional enough to think she could marry the vampire heir. I was thrown out of the only home I'd ever known. The only kindness left to me was Alexander's, a scrap of charity that let me stay at his side as the lowest thing a vampire could keep. A blood slave. And then, later, I died in an explosion. Saving him. Alexander knelt in the blood and lost his mind, screaming at everyone around him to save me. But there was something he didn't know. I hadn't died. Later still, at a vampire banquet, he saw me again at last. I walked past him on another man's arm, smiling. And this time, it was his turn to lose his mind begging me to look back at him.