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... d with the ambition of overthrowing the empire.

But as time passed, so did the purpose of the society change naturally.

Now, Abyss was moving for a greater ambition than toppling the empire.

The descent of a god who would look down on the world.

A grand undertaking that was more superior and noble than ruling a mere nation.

That was their goal.

The dark mages of Abyss were looking forward to the reaction of the lowly humans when the holy celestial ...

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After Song Juyao died and emerged from the virtual world, she learned that her entire life had just been a reality show which was led and controlled by others.

One billion viewers watched this live broadcast, all of them pointing fingers at her and ridiculing her life whilst the director team thought up every possible method to design setbacks for her, pulling her into the mud over and over again.

Then, Song Juyao was reborn. This time, her memory was not suppressed.

This was a crazy world. People were discontent and bored of their lives. They had also lost their enthusiasm for various kinds of entertainment, falling to the point of seeking all sorts of thrills in order to arouse their emotions.

Later, they found a precious treasure. She was perfect. They held her in the palm of their hands and went wild for her. They even regarded her as a God and worshipped her fanatically.

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After a night of indulgence, An Ge became pregnant with the powerful and influential Mr. Huo's child.During the pregnancy, the powerful man frequently drew her blood.In order to save her life and protect the child in her womb, she shocked everyone by saying, “Mr. Huo, I'm carrying your child!”The man sneered, “Are you trying to blackmail me or do you wish to die? If so, I'll grant your wish!”Disheartened, she faked her death and fled with the child.Later, that man, who was always cold and harsh to her, knelt before her grave for three days and nights.Later still, word somehow got out that she faked her death, and he became enraged, locking down the globe in a frenzy to find her.Finally, one day, he cornered her at a wedding, furiously roaring, “You can't marry him, I'm the real father of the child!”An Ge squinted and smiled slightly, “Sorry, who are you?”In the time that followed, he humbled himself into the dust, every night kneeling in front of her bed, begging, “Miss An, please marry me.”

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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.