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A boy in uniform purred as he stared at another young girl in a similar school uniform as his.

He was almost drooling as he stared and expressed his infatuation with the student of the opposite gender.

The person he was talking to, called Drax, did not pay him any attention.

Instead, Drax yawned and mouthed as he scratched his black hair, barely keeping his eyes open.

From the subtle darkening underneath his eyelids, one could easily tell that Drax was lacking ...

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Meredith Carter was once the pride of her pack—until the Lunar Curse marked her as wolfless, unwanted, and a disgrace. Humiliated, abandoned, and rejected by her fated mate, she thought the Moon Goddess had forsaken her.But her curse came with a cruel side effect—wild, uncontrollable pheromones that drove men insane with desire and disgust. A scent so intoxicating, it made her a target.The night she was cast aside when her pheromones spiralled beyond control, Alpha Draven Oatrun—the most feared and untouchable Alpha in the kingdom—claimed her instead.But Draven doesn’t want love. He doesn’t even want her. His reasons for marrying her have nothing to do with fate.Thrust into a world of ruthless politics, deadly enemies, and a mate who sees her as nothing more than a pawn, Meredith must fight to survive, reclaim her dignity, and uncover the secrets behind her curse.Because something is awakening inside her. Something powerful. Something… ancient.And when the truth is revealed, not even Alpha Draven will be able to resist what she becomes.Rejected. Cursed. Desired. Chosen.Will Meredith break free from her fate?Above all, what is this mystical force pushing her to start a war?—Excerpt:“You may have claimed me,” Meredith whispered, her violet eyes burning with defiance, “but you will never own me.”Draven exhaled a low, dangerous laugh. His golden eyes gleamed as he caged her in, his presence suffocating.“Own you?” His voice was velvet and steel. “Little wolf, I don’t need to own you.”He brushed a strand of silver-white hair behind her ear—a touch so light, yet it sent shivers down her spine.“Because whether you like it or not…” His breath ghosted against her skin. “Your body already responds to me.”Meredith clenched her jaw, ignoring the traitorous warmth pooling deep inside her. It was the pheromones. It had to be.“I hate you,” she forced out.“Good,” Draven smirked. Because hate was just another form of obsession.

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“Coming live to you, from Cerou Street, this is MBP News, and we have an unfolding situation to report. Late last night, at approximately 3:00 AM, an explosive-like sound reverberated through this area, disrupting the sleep of residents and instilling fear in their hearts,” the news anchor, a striking figure, delivered the report with poise, standing before the camera amidst a bustling scene.

In the background, the blaring horns of ambulances and police vehicles disturbed the serenity of the beautiful morning light. Two individuals wearing protective suits, presumably forensic experts, held a stretcher carrying a charred body.

The news anchor, who had been reporting earlier, placed a hand on her ear, fitted with an earpiece, and looked visibly surprised. Her voice filled with urgency as she continued, “We have just received an update from our headquarters regarding the sole fatality in this unexpected incident. The victim of this tragic event is none other than Norman, the famous gigolo of Night palace.”

“My colleague, who was set to cover an event today at Nightplace, obtained this information firsthand from Countess Maria, who held a special place for Norman in her heart. Our focus this morning is on this breaking news,” the female news reporter continued amidst the chaotic scene, while Norman's charred body lay alone in the ambulance.

Meanwhile, in a different world, a young boy lay fast asleep with his head on the table. The sun, seemingly displeased with the boy's carefree slumber, cast its rays directly onto his face. Annoyed by the intrusion, the boy shifted his head in another direction, unwilling to be roused from his deep sleep.

*ZZZr Zzrz Zzrzzr* However, an additional source disturbed his sleep, filling the room with a buzzing sound. The boy furrowed his brows in annoyance, his eyes still closed. He searched his surroundings and discovered a glass-like slab. With closed eyes, he slid his finger across it and placed it near his ear.

“Hello...” he mumbled in his drowsy voice, which carried a hint of depth.

“Hey, Pissed-up Prat, where are you?” a voice laced with disdain emanated from the slab.

The boy, referred to as the “Pissed-up Prat” by the irritating female voice, recognized it as a voice he heard frequently but couldn't recall its owner. With his eyes still closed, he inquired, “Who is this?”

“What do you mean, 'who is this'? Wake up, come home, or eat shit for breakfast if you prefer!” the voice behind the transparent slab retorted before falling silent.

The boy, still not fully awakened, gazed at the half-opened glass slab with a mixture of confusion and surprise. As his eyes darted around the room, he became increasingly shocked.

As he recollected the fragmented memories from the night before he lost consciousness, his gaze fell upon the entrance of the shop. Once old and damp, it now bore a different appearance. While not transformed into a luxurious space, it had undergone improvements compared to its previously dilapidated state.

The shop took on a rectangular shape, with one longer side adorned with wooden shelves intricately patterned. Rows of empty glass jars lined these shelves. On the opposite side, there was another wooden shelf, also displaying empty jars. Towards the beginning of the counter, where the boy had been sleeping, there stood a peculiar machine.

Confusion etched across his face, he murmured to himself, “Whose shop is this?”

In response to his question, a mechanical voice resonated in his mind.

[The Omnistore belongs to you, host.]

……………………………………………………………

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