The Physicist Wife Who Overturned The World - Chapter 1187 - Under My Protection

“Haunted by the Curse's relentless pursuit, one seeks solace in the arms of darkness...”-- -- --Hael Winterlock, the youngest and most beloved prince of the Winterlock dynasty, lived the typical luxurious prince life within the dynasty, with the thought of being just an ordinary rich royal member in the future.But when he awakened the never-before-seen Nine Magical Arcana Runes petals, the law of the Kingdom automatically dictates him as the next ruler of the throne, something that goes against his predetermined fate.And from thereon, life came crashing down for Hael, who had his father killed by his throne-obsessed brothers, and then he himself burnt to coal and flung into the icy depths to drown to death.Just when life seemed over, Hael found a portal and a moon fragment, a rumored source of controllable power at the depth of the sea, and the moon fragment fused with him as he disappeared into the strange portal.There was a new advanced world, a world where an ongoing war between humans who grew with cybernetic fusions, and the Eldritches, creatures of dark magic, raged on.Once more, he was given a chance to change things, a new chance at life.One day, he swore to return to back to Winterfall Dynasty to take what was rightfully his. But only if his dreams could be reality. The Forgotten Realms had another name:The Abyssal Realm of Ruins, a Place of No Return!

In her past life Gu Wei Wei’s heart was dug out by the man she loved, and transplanted into her best friend’s body. However, after rebirth she become Hua country’s number one conglomerate, Fu Han Zheng’s little girlfriend. She is being careful trying to take revenge against the people that hurt her. He protects her everywhere, pamper her to the extreme. Everyone said that Fu Han Zheng is cold and without emotion. That perfect husband that everyday tease her until she blushes and her heart beat, pamper her regardless anything, is it a fake husband?

war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”

Three rejections. Three shattered dreams. That was Layla’s reality, all because she was different—a half-shifter in a world obsessed with purity. Ostracized, shunned, and finally sold off like a pawn to the most feared ruler alive—the Lycan King. He was ruthless, a king with a graveyard of brides, each one a ghostly reminder of a fate worse than death.Layla loathed him. Hated the way his gaze cold and fathomless, held no warmth for her. Hated how his touch, both thrilling and terrifying, sent an uninvited chill down her spine.---“I hate you!” I screamed, hands clenched so tight my knuckles ached.He sighed, a smirk curling at the edge of his lips, his tone mocking as he closed his book with a deliberate snap. “Stressed, are we?” he asked, strolling toward me, each step reminding me exactly who held the power here.“Lucky for you,” he drawled, rolling up his sleeves as he stopped just inches away, “I know exactly 70 ways to ease those nerves.” His fingers brushed my cheek, a touch that seemed to burn into my skin. “The first… a hug.” His voice dropped to a rough whisper as he leaned in, breath hot against my ear. “And the rest... well, that's 69? what do you say about that?”I swallowed hard, my heart thudding wildly as he tilted his head, waiting for me to react, that insufferable smirk still in place.“What’s the matter, darling?” he murmured, a taunt lingering in his gaze.---A Dangerous ObsessionCan she resist the pull, or will she dance into the flames of her own destruction?A dark dive into obsession, raw need, and the razor’s edge between desire and devastation.---LYCAN KING CASSIANI will tear her apart piece by piece, feeding the wildfire that grips her with each shuddered breath. Like air to flame, I’ll claim every inch, drawing heat from her skin until it sinks into her bones.Her pulse will race under my hands, her breaths shallow, pleading. Her eyes may scream, but her lips will still murmur my name. That first taste of fear will only feed something deeper—a need that burns through her veins, molten and fierce.And just when she’s too far gone to turn back, I’ll twist the knife, giving her the pain she’s learned to crave.She’ll be the moth to my flame, helpless against the very thing that will consume her.