A Family of Hopeless Romantics, Except for the Evil Little Junior Brother - Chapter 70: Bear-Hearted and Sinister

The girl submerged in the bottom of the lake suddenly opens her eyes. The noble ChuChao Gongzhu [Princess] becomes an abandoned daughter and woman. No problem. This type of slag father is not worth mentioning. By virtue of her exquisite medical skills, she becomes famous in the world. Slag father wants to reunite? Close the door, let out the dogs! Shizi [Heir of a noble title] wants to ask for marriage? Let him wait in line! The Regent has a chronic illness? Perfect. Godly doctor becomes a poison doctor. Let him neither live nor die and taste the pain of his evil deeds. She exacts bloody vengeance. Appointed Wuguo Gongzhu, she returns to her noble life. Slag father regrets, sister envies, stepmother hates!

“And if someday you see me, remember to forget my name, or karma will bow.”****For Awuor’s power, her people had done the unthinkable, in the history of werewolves.Her beta and brother, Dom, murdered their mother, the Sicario luna and blamed it on Awuor. In his grief, her father didn't bother to try and find out the truth, instead, for murdering her mother, he gave his daughter the worst punishment any alpha could ever get.He banished her from home, but Awuor’s wasn’t the usual banishment. Her father neither stripped her of the alpha title, nor did he make her a rogue. Instead, Alpha Sicario forced Awuor to be an exiled alpha, a woman so powerful, but with no one to rule over.Her mate, Jer, a power-hungry bastard, stepped up to rule the Sicario pack, since Awuor, the reigning alpha, was away, and Jer never once sought her out. Just like everyone else, he had betrayed her when he claimed a different woman, without rejecting Awuor.As the gates of Sicario closed on her, as her people watched her in disgust and disappointment, the daughter of Sicario had just one thought.A PROMISE of destruction & vengeance; she would ruin them all.***[EXCERPT]“Either you're from the Dawson pack, the Bluemoon pack, or the Sicario pack, because you're definitely not from our Greyson pack. You must have done something really stupid for your alphas to banish you, even though you have no scent of the ferals.“So that could mean you're not a feral, but you're certainly not that important to your people. You seem to have an attitude and reek of power, that's why you don't appreciate anyone talking to you like a regular wolf.“But all of that doesn't matter right now, because you are the unwanted little wolf. The girl without a home, the rejected wolf who can't be claimed by anyone else. You're dressed in banana leaves because you have no clue how to make proper clothing on your own.“— or even check the feral cloth reservoir on the west of this forest. The fact that you have stayed so close to the other three packs is because you don't want to be away from home and are somehow hoping that they'd want you back.“Allow me to spell it out for you and make it easier for your probably useless brain to understand, little wolf, no one wants you. I'm only taking you to my alpha because your presence here is a nuisance to us, and for some reason, the alpha is interested in you.“And before you get any ideas about mates and whatnot, our alpha is already mated. So will you get up on your own, or do we have to take you stripped? Because I for one have no problem doing that. We could just treat you like the rogue that you're not,” Adolf said to Awuor who still had her angry smirk on.

A fourth chance at life. The last chance.Zarek remembered when he first experienced the Godsfall Apocalypse. Those tears of red and sparkling rouge that split the skies, opening up one dangerous realm after another.That feeling of helplessness had been palpable, heavy... suffocating. It hung above his head like a guillotine, an edge graced by death's kiss...He grinned at it.One last ride, no Talents left on his stat screen, and nothing but a dull machete and his girl by his side. What was a better thrill than that?How could he possibly fail a fourth time?Unfortunately, there were others. Other Rebirthers. Some that might have been on their last attempt just like him, or some that still had more to give to this cruel world.None of it mattered, though. He had planned everything out meticulously, each life playing its own role.He would come out on top this time. How could he not?He was Zarek Ashborn.

All I ever wanted was for famous detectives like Sherlock Holmes or Arsène Lupin to appear in my dreams and share their wisdom. But instead, why am I hearing the voices of notorious serial killers in my head, guiding me to solve a string of mysterious cases?