Sugar and Spice: The CEO's Feisty Wife - Chapter 132: Write, "Dear Sir…"

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.

Transmigration? A Chong Xi Marriage? Sickly husband? How worse can this get?

Mo Qian Xue now lives in a soddy, destitute, small house with broken furnitures. The grass had grown wild and unruly from lack of proper care. The rice pot in the kitchen, it’s left empty. Well, this mess seemed quite manageable, however, why is it they only have one quilt in the house?

Not only does she serve her husband food and refreshments during the day, does she need to make sure he’s well “fed” at night too?

“It’s getting late now… we should go to bed. Said the sickly husband. She simply closed the door, turned off the lights, and went straight to sleep.

“If you dare move, I’ll kick you out of the bed!” She threatened.

In the end, the man still managed to wrap himself around her no matter how she resisted. The sickly husband wasn’t as weak as he appeared to be!

Mo Qian Xue worked hard to become rich. She built workshops, opened factories, one aided by her sickly husband towards prosperity. Fortunately, she could live a peaceful life far from bickering relatives, but then, much to her dismay, she still had to deal with the villagers knocking on her door.

So they want her money? They want her position as a wife? Since when was she, Mo Xian Que easy to bully?! They want to make her lose face? Alright, let them come a little closer then… give them a…. slap!

- Description from Novelupdates

A ritual gone wrong gave him the world's deadliest Class—now all he wants is blood.Zeth stole the most powerful ritual magic in the world from a mad cultist. A Class that's fueled by the blood of his enemies and human sacrifice. One that's illegal to use, punishable by gruesome death. And now that he has it, he's faced with a choice: hide away for the rest of his life from those who would hunt him down, or embrace the power, becoming the hunter to get revenge on the murderer that stole his friends' lives.For Zeth, that's no choice at all.His enemies have to die. And he plans to use every drop of blood, eldritch ritual, and demonic summoning he can to kill them.

Somebody once told a joke.A man ran in place all his life. He worked a job he didn't love for people he couldn't stand. But at the end of the day, the number in his bank account went up.That man got a second chance at life. He woke up in another world, full of adventures and romances and monsters and gods. And floating above his head he saw the number “1”. So what did he say?“Gosh I better make the number go up.”Not today. Not for this old soul. Reborn as a beast of battle meant to live a short life and die screaming, Garek refuses. He puts the madness of skills and levels behind him and sets out to found a little farmstead. He grows crops. Maybe someday he'll get a pig, and have bacon.It's a shame the world won't let him be. It's a shame that the warmongers and level-grinders hate nothing more than a soul at peace.He put down his sword for a plowshare, but when trouble comes calling, he'll pick it up again.