The Savior is just a 3-Year-Old - Chapter 691 - : Letting out blood (1)

Waking up from a coma was the least of Serena’s worries when she finds out she’s married!She can’t remember who she is. Her parents are plotting to kill her. What does a young woman do in such a situation? She traps her handsome rich husband ofcourse! Serena will not let him go until she uncovers the truth.Aiden Hawk married for convenience. Blackmailed by his grandmother, he came up with the perfect plan. Marry a woman on her deathbed and play the role of her grieving lover. When she passes away, he would be free to do as he pleased!But to everyone's surprise, she came back alive!What’s more, she’s sticking to him like glue!Will their accidental marriage work out or will they be separared for ever?*Picture credits: QueenfriezaSnippet:Her eyes widened in shock when he walked over to lock the hospital room door with a click.“What are you doing?” she asked shakily. She did not like the look on his face.He raised a brow and smirked, raising the corner of his mouth. “What do you think I'm doing?”“Why… why did you lock the door?”“My wife...You've woken up after so long. Of course, I have to spend some time with you undisturbed...”Serena watched him as he walked towards her, his presence seemingly filling the room. Her heart almost threatened to leap out of her chest...She wanted to jump off the bed but her legs were useless and she had no strength...

The clock struck midnight when Ruelle heard the echo of footsteps. She tensed, the fine hairs on the back of her neck standing on end in the cool night air.“You shouldn't be here,” Ruelle whispered, her voice a breathless murmur. The silhouette finally came to stand under the moonlight, his dark red eyes watching her and his inky black hair ruffling.“Shouldn't I?” His voice was a dark caress, and she stood there captivated by the danger he exuded like perfume.“I haven’t seen you for the last two days,” his tone low. His hand reached out, fingers brushing against the silk of her nightgown, tracing the trembling outline of her collarbone. “Tell me, were you avoiding me, or perhaps... entertaining other offers?”Ruelle’s heart raced, her breaths shallow. She declared, “I don't belong to anyone.”“A bold claim,“ he murmured, his breath a tantalising chill against her skin as he leaned in. ”Yet here you are, pulse racing, your body tensed as if in anticipation of my touch.”His fingers gripped her chin, tilting her face towards his. The moonlight caught his eyes, revealing a glint of predatory intent. “Or must I remind you whose touch you truly crave?”

Lucy Gray was a tech genius—until a stranger smiled, pulled the trigger, and ended his life.But death wasn’t the end. It was a recruitment.Dragged before a pantheon of ancient gods, Lucy learns his soul has been drafted into the Holy War—an eternal bloodbath in which Gods fight across shattered realms. Out of thousands, he was soul #4,000, chosen by Seraphine, the Goddess of Rebirth and Suffering.Now reborn in a dying world of Ogres, Giants, Beastkin, Dragonkin, and Elves, Lucy is a human among legends—a species exiled and nearly forgotten, for reasons that make him hated.Armed with nothing but defiance, sarcasm, and a bizarre ability to steal and master the powers of others, Lucy has one job: survive the impossible.The gods wanted a pawn.They got the wrong dead man.

Tang Qiu was a substitute bride–forced to take her half-sister’s place and marry the young master of the Jiang family, a deformed cripple with less than 6 months left to live.

“Who would have thought that even a sickly whelp like Jiang Shaocheng would find himself a bride?”

“I hear that he’s practically on his deathbed and he’s only marrying the Fengs’ daughter to improve his lifespan.”

Tang Qiu ignored the whispers around her and focused on her husband-to-be, who coughed violently in his wheelchair. At the altar, after they had said their vows, she lifted her veil and knelt in front of Jiang Shaocheng, pressing a hesitant kiss to his lips.

The marriage contract was signed. No matter his physical deformities, he was now her husband.

She wasn’t afraid of the scars that marked his face, nor was she repulsed by him being confined to a wheelchair. Every morning, she made him breakfast, attended to his needs, and thought of little else beyond her duties as a wife.

“Young Master Jiang is a cripple who can’t get it up,” her best friend argued. “When he dies, you’ll still be untouched. You should set your sights higher.”

“A sickly invalid like Jiang Shaocheng can’t give you happiness,” her ex-boyfriend insisted. “I’ll wait for you.”

But Young Master Jiang only scoffed. “I have plenty of time left to be with her.”

Later in their marriage, Jiang Shaocheng wanted to enjoy his little wife in all ways–the press of her lips against his, the brush of skin on skin; the way a husband and wife were supposed to. But Tang Qiu refused him, blushing. “No, we can’t. The doctor says you can’t exert yourself.”

Jiang Shaocheng’s desire was surging through him, a heat in his core that demanded to be satiated. He cursed, I should have gotten rid of that doctor and the wheelchair long ago.

But he yearned to make love to his little wife, and so he revealed his true identity. In the blink of an eye, the deformed cripple transformed into a powerful businessman–tall, dark, and handsome. He quieted Tang Qiu’s protests, his body positioned over hers, his arms caging her as she lay on the bed. His voice was low when he asked, “What about now?”