Rebirth of the Heavenly Empress - Chapter 797

[Female Lead: Little Princess of the Cat Demon Clan] “Get off of me,” the man's voice carried a hint of helplessness and restraint.“I won't,” the girl shook her head, her arms tightly holding onto the man beneath her.“Be good, I can't sleep like this.”“But I always slept on top of you before.”“That was different... you're a human now.”In Capital City, a decisive, cruel, and cold-blooded mysterious head of the household unexpectedly gets saved by a tiny kitten, hence turning into a devoted slave to the cat, shocking all his subordinates.However, when one day he woke up to find the kitten in his arms had turned into a lovely and soft young girl, the head of the household was dumbstruck.Ask what's going on? Of course, it's a nurture story~Ask what to do? Naturally, continue to spoil her, just in a different way~“Young Master, everyone outside is saying that you have some special fetish. Why else would you spoil a cat to such an outrageously lawless degree?”The head of the household declared, “You know nothing, that's my wife.”This book is free of stale tropes, with fresh material, and is clean in regards to relationships. [The new book “Mr. Lu Has Made the Blacklist Again” has been released]

The romance between young Ronan Silverback and his fated mate Lucien Clearwater ended before it had the chance to bloom. Since they were both in line to become Alphas of their packs and neither of them was willing to step back to be with each other, Ronan ended up rejecting Lucien and ending their fated mate connection.

Seven years later, Alpha Ronan Silverback happened to meet Lucien Clearwater again. The latter not only was not the Alpha of his pack, but he also ended up accepting the affection of the Alpha of Ronan’s rival pack.

“We have broken up,” Lucien reminded Ronan. “Seven years ago, if you recall.”

“You are mine, Lucien Clearwater,” Ronan declared with a husky voice. “In this life or any life, you can only be mine. I will not let anyone else touch you.”

Warning : Mature content, genre-typical violence and sexual content. There is a mention of miscarriage. A lot of drama. Naturally it will end in a Happy Ending.

With the revival of spiritual energy and the breakdown of the order of species, it is a difficult test whether human beings can still stand at the top of the biological chain.

(There is already an old book, The Strongest Descends in the City, you can read it.)

- Description from novelbuddy

“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.