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... > ~Snow’s POV~

Golden God’s blue eyes flickered with something unreadable as he strode further into my office. His expression was uncharacteristically serious, lacking his usual arrogance.

"The witches are moving," he repeated, his voice heavy with urgency.

My body tensed. "Where?"

Golden God exhaled, folding his arms across his chest. "I had a recent sighting of the aftermath of an attack—one of the smaller packs on the outskirts of the werewolf ...

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Life from birth has been nothing but hell. I lost my parents to some stupid aristocrats whom they offended. Executed for no good reason.

My relatives abandoned me and pushed me aside. They feared for their lives and left me and my sister to starve and wander the streets alone!

No, this is worse than hell!

I watched my sister die of starvation. Her lips were dry and her feet bloody. Her nails were broken and her fingers riddled with cuts. She struggled in my hands and after a few seconds of struggle she passed away. She seemed joyful in death so I prayed mine will come just as swift and merciful as hers.

So I stayed in the alleyway, alone with her rotten corpse awaiting my fate for God knows how long. I could see it already. The darkness encroaching from all sides

Everyone said death is scary but I say it’s the end! Who needs life after death? What is the need for reincarnation?

Who would want to return to this crazy world?

“It’s not yet time for you to go… You have one more task to accomplish as my host” A voice called out to me.

I could barely see or speak but how can I miss such a beautiful face? It was an extremely handsome man who gazed at me with tender eyes.

.....

“Haven’t I suffered enough? Can’t I just rest?” I cried out. Why would I want to stay back in such a cruel world?

“Don’t you want to avenge the death of your parents? Don’t you want to become something greater? I can make that happen!” The beautiful man said with an alluring voice.

“You… Who are you?” I asked with an anxious heart.

My parents always said God is the only one who cares about me! Maybe in my final hours, he has come to save me.

“Call me Death…”

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The world is diverse and flourishing. Humanity has changed, and with it, brought in a new era of prosperity. Males and females still exist, but the spectrum from which humanity is cast has broadened. With the introduction of alpha, omega, and beta, humanity has evolved even further.In such a word, Dr. Andrew Knox, known environmental researcher, is happy being a beta male. It has made his life easier by being middle ground, and as much as some wish he was one way or the other, he’s happy being who he is. Thriving even.He works in a world renowned research facility. He makes friends easily, and his projects are always funded. He even found someone who he thinks he could end up marrying if things continue in the right direction.That, and the vacant house next to his apartment building gets bought by a new neighbour. A cute, but cautious omega who relies on Andrew as a beta for help. Andrew couldn’t be happier. He loves being a helper, and loves when people rely on him.All in all, Andrew really thinks he has everything made.That is, until a research project with shoddy data is thrown back into his face that he has no recollection of working on, and all of his reputation disintegrates in between one heartbeat and the next.Heartbroken, it isn’t until Andrew wakes up, chained to a wall that everything becomes clear. He becomes a test subject to one of the scientists that he trusted. That he expected would never harm him.The life he had known, where he was a respected researcher was ripped out from underneath him. His identity and everything he’s ever known is stolen from him from a crazed researcher who he had trusted, maybe even loved.He has to relearn who he is, what he is, from scratch.Thankfully, he has one person in his corner. He just never expected to have to rely on someone whose shoulders were so small.This is an a/b/o story, and will have those tropes associated with it. I hope you enjoy :)

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It was understood that this was a capitalist country, where the possession of the greatest amount of capital determined to whom the nation effectively belonged.The smile that had been resting on William Sheffield’s face was abruptly erased as his expression turned cold. In a tone laced with determination, it was demanded by him that the police be contacted immediately so that they could crush those who stood in their way. The reasoning behind his words seemed clear: if such actions had been taken before by someone like Rockefeller, then why should it not also be possible for Sheffield?A sense of irony hung in the air as the sentiment was expressed—this was America, where each day seemed to unfold as though it were part of an ongoing shootout, with battles fought not just with guns but with power, influence, and wealth.