The Mind-Reading Mate: Why Is the Lycan King So Obsessed With Me?! - Chapter 93: Harsh Lesson

Anita White gave up everything for love.Her family. Her power. Her legacy.Eight years ago, she found David. He was poor, brilliant, naive, and loyal. Or so she believed. She built his empire from the ground up, turning a nobody into a billionaire.But when betrayal came, it was more than infidelity. David Blackwood shattered her body, her mind, and her soul—infecting her with disease, killing her child, and freezing her out of the very world she created.But Anita is a White. And now, she’s coming home.Back in the arms of the most ruthless family in the country, Anita must navigate corporate warfare, mafia politics, and deadly alliances.To take down David—whose saintly public image masks darker secrets than she ever imagined—Anita turns to the one man she vowed never to see again: Maverick Ravenswood, a mafia kingpin with questionable loyalty and a dangerous obsession.And then there’s Killian Wellington. The childhood fiancé whose life was destroyed, and who may want revenge... or something far more complicated.As secrets unravel and past sins come to light, Anita realizes the betrayal goes deeper than one man. She was never the queen... she was just a pawn in someone else’s game.But now?She’s about to burn the board with Maverick on her right, Killian on her left, and her father, Reginald White behind her.#Slowburn

When a fantasy kingdom needs heroes, they skip the high schoolers and summon hardened Delta Force operators.Lieutenant Cole Mercer and his team are no strangers to sacrifice. After all, what are four men compared to millions of lives saved from a nuclear disaster? But as they make their last stand against insurgents, they’re unexpectedly pulled into another world—one on the brink of a demonic incursion.Thrust into Tenria's realm of magic and steam engines, Cole discovers a power beyond anything he'd imagined: magic—a way to finally win without sacrifice, a power fantasy made real by ancient mana and perfected by modern science.But his new world might not be so different from the old one, and the stakes remain the same: there are people who depend on him more than ever; people he might not be able to save. Cole and his team are but men, facing unimaginable odds. Even so, they may yet prove history's truth: that, at their core, the greatest heroes are always just human.

Hikari played an MMO as a healer girl, reaching the pinnacle of players. However, she never expected to become her player character. Moreover, she was supposed to be a “normal” elf race, so why does her status say “Goddess?” How come this 2D dragon servant became a voluptuous vixen?Acting like a Goddess? Screw that! I would rather hide under a rock! But everywhere I go, I can't help but be revered! What is this!?

“Villains aren’t born, they’re made...blah...blah...”Cute quote. Stick it on your Tumblr header next to your anime pfp.You boys love your villain stories, don’t you?You want carnage. Chaos. Control. You want a dark throne, a cold smirk, and a woman kneeling at your feet begging for mercy.But you?You don’t want to lift a damn finger.You’ll cheer for the villain as he kills a god, but cry when he gets betrayed.You call it “plot armor” when the hero survives—but call it “art” when the villain does the impossible.You’re not fans of villains.You’re fetishists.You want the violence, but not the silence after it.You want domination, but not the burden of being hated.You want power, but only if the story forgives you for it.You don’t read these stories to understand evil.You read them because you think you're too good to win the normal way.“Villains don’t play fair.”Exactly. That’s why you love them.Because you wouldn’t last a day in a world where strength mattered and excuses didn’t.You don’t want a villain’s life.You want his results.You want to watch him burn the world for a woman.But you’d cry if a girl left you on read.So tell me—What exactly are you rooting for?At least unlike you, I support heroes—the ones with boobs.You know the type.Tits squeezed into latex, thighs tight in spandex, preaching virtue with cum-drunk eyes the moment they fall into my arms but always end up screaming my name instead.She flies above cities, saving lives like it’s her job.But at night? She crashes into my arms, trembling, moaning, clawing at my back like I’m the only real thing she’s ever touched.Her cape drops before her guard does.But I don't need to tear it off.She hands it over herself—bit by bit, kiss by kiss, lie by beautiful lie.You ever felt a heroine's breath hitch in your ear as she begs you to stop pretending you're the bad guy?Ever watched the symbol of hope ride you like you're the last man left after the world ended?That's not conquest.That’s devotion, baby.Unfiltered. Undeniable.And the irony?They fall the hardest.Because no villain ever tried to understand them. No hero ever dared to see past the shine and into the ache beneath.But I do.I whisper into the cracks of their perfection.I plant kisses where they hide their pain.I fuck them where they forget to wear their strength.And when they break—when their moans turn to prayers, when their strength melts into submission—That’s when I rise.I’m not just some brooding misfit out for revenge, or a misunderstood loner sitting around hoping for a shot at redemption.I’m not a villain.I’m the SUPERVILLAIN—the kind your heroines moan for when the cameras are off and the capes are crumpled on my floor.