Fantasy Assassin in a modern world - Chapter 72

In a world where Lycans and werewolves are sworn enemies, Eve Valmont is a werewolf cursed by a prophecy and framed. Betrayed by her own pack and imprisoned for years, her fate takes a darker twist when she is offered to the Lycan King, Hades Stavros—a ruler feared for his ruthless conquests and deadly prowess. Bound by an ancient prophecy and haunted by the ghosts of her past, Eve is now at the mercy of the one being she should hate and fear the most—The Hand of Death himself.Hades, a king carved from blood and his own soul's decay, determined to avenge his family's slaughter and rid his people of the werewolves. He believes Eve is the key to his victory. To him, she is nothing but weapon foretold by prophecy, a tool he will wield to destroy the opposing forces threatening his pack. Yet, he finds himself craving this powerful yet broken woman. Leaving him questioning if she is truly his weapon or the one destined to unravel his carefully laid plans.***He stalked toward me, a predator closing in on its prey, his eyes dark and unreadable. “So, you laugh?” His voice was low, dangerously soft, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.I swallowed hard, suddenly aware of how difficult it had become to breathe. “Hades, I—”“But you only laugh at other men's jokes,” he interrupted, his gaze piercing, devoid of any humor. “Not your husband's.” The accusation in his tone was sharp, slicing through the air between us.A nervous chuckle escaped me. “You can't be serious... He’s your beta, for Goddess’ sake.”In an instant, he closed the distance between us, so fast it left me breathless. His hands gripped my waist, pulling me flush against his body, the heat of him making my skin tingle. I gasped, but before I could say a word, his lips crashed onto mine, claiming my mouth with a force that sent shockwaves through me. The kiss was punishing, hungry—I couldn't breathe, couldn't think.When he finally pulled back, I was trembling, my chest heaving as I struggled to regain my breath. His eyes, dark and stormy, searched mine with a possessive intensity. “You can’t laugh at my jokes...” he whispered, his voice a dangerous rasp as his fingers trailed lower, sending a shiver down my spine, “but you’ll come with my fingers.”I shivered, heat pooling low in my belly at his words, his touch. The world around us blurred, fading into nothing as his hand slipped lower, drawing a ragged gasp from my lips. The look in his eyes told me he knew exactly what he was doing to me, and there was no denying the primal connection between us in that moment.“I don’t need your laughter,” he murmured against my skin, his breath hot on my neck. “I’ll have every other part of you instead.”

Waking up, I discovered that I had become a cat with superpowers...

Have you ever wondered what lies beyond what you perceive as your reality?What lies beyond the “truth” that everyone around you tells you is “just the way it is”?Have you never pondered on what your limit is in this life of yours? “Can I go further? Can I do more?”And yet you end up settling when you think you have reached that “limit.” But why? Why should you settle? There is always going to be something further, something 'beyond'.This is a story about a boy named Azmond who was reincarnated from planet Earth into the Cultivation World of Asterion... A world where the strong rule and the weak are forced to kneel. If Azmond wishes to gain power in this new mysterious world then he must be willing to sacrifice more than anybody else, he who wants to know just how far he can go, a boy with the sole goal of attaining power above all else.Little does Azmond know, that there is a price to pay for everything and that price will be painful, so very excruciating that every fiber of his being will wish for death... but Azmond will continue. He will persevere until he can't anymore... For that is his will.

An Ning transmigrated to a parallel universe in the year 1780, initially hoping to use his understanding of history to remain neutral and become a wealthy landlord, seeking neither fame nor recognition in the troubled times.However, it seems that the course of events has somewhat spiraled out of his control.'Respected General, we acknowledge no one but you,' said the young Captain with the surname Bonaparte.