Sorry, I'm Just a Weak Little Vampire
Genevieve already died once. A silver stake. A half-blood's betrayal. Never again.
She wakes up three years before the prophecy. Her power is intact. Her knowledge is complete. She could destroy everyone who wronged her.
But that sounds like effort.
So instead, she plays weak. She trips. She cries. She hides under desks. She tells everyone: "Sorry, I'm just a weak little vampire."
Let Rosalie and her cheat system think they're winning. Let them steal the glory. Genevieve just wants to nap and eat blood pudding.
Too bad no one believes her.
Now the students are torn between mocking her and idolizing her. Rosalie's system is crashing. And Genevieve's "useless" act is accidentally building a legend she never wanted.
She just wanted to be trash.
Why won't anyone let her?
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Chapter 1
The phantom pain of a silver stake tearing through Genevieve's chest made her knees buckle.
She stood on the freezing marble floor of the Crimson Court's top-floor council chamber, her vision swimming with black spots. A violent headache split her skull. The metallic taste of her own blood-a memory from a future that hadn't happened yet-coated her tongue. Her lungs seized. She couldn't drag in a single breath.
"Are you even listening to me, Genevieve?"
Lord Marcus's low, authoritative voice echoed off the vaulted gothic ceiling. The sound hit her like a physical blow, snapping her out of the death vision.
Genevieve forced her chin up. She met Lord Marcus's crimson eyes. They were hard, cold, and filled with absolute disappointment. Her stomach dropped to the floor. Her heart, still trapped in the panic of the prophecy, hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird.
Rosalie cowered behind Lord Marcus's broad, custom-tailored suit. The half-blood girl gripped the edge of his jacket, her small shoulders shaking. But Genevieve caught it. Just for a fraction of a second, Rosalie's eyes darted toward her, flashing with a sharp, calculated provocation.
Lord Marcus pointed a long, pale finger at the torn blood-servant contract scattered on the floor.
"Explain to me why you insist on targeting a fragile half-blood," Lord Marcus demanded, his voice vibrating with raw power. "She just awakened. She cannot even withstand the sunlight yet, and you treat her like dirt."
Genevieve opened her mouth. The old Genevieve-the arrogant, pureblood prodigy-wanted to scream back. She wanted to rip Rosalie's fake innocence to shreds.
But her throat closed up. The phantom shadow of the silver stake pressed against her windpipe.
A glaring red warning flashed in her mind. The prophecy was clear. If she released her pureblood pressure right now, if she acted like the villain they expected, the countdown to her gruesome death would begin.
Genevieve sucked in a sharp breath. She pressed her thumb hard into the side of her index finger, digging her nail into the bone to suppress the ancient, chaotic magic boiling in her veins. She lowered her eyelashes. She stared at her own pale fingertips, forcing her face into a blank, deadpan mask.
Her sudden, unnatural silence hung in the air.
Lord Marcus twisted his custom cufflink, misinterpreting her silence as stubborn rebellion. His jaw ticked. He slammed his fist down on the heavy blackwood table.
The impact rattled the wood. A heavy, solid silver candlestick toppled off the edge.
It hit the marble with a sharp clang and rolled directly to Genevieve's feet.
A faint, holy aura radiated from the silver. To an Antediluvian pureblood like Genevieve, it was as harmless as a gentle breeze. But she stared at the silver metal, and a brilliant idea sparked in her panicked brain.
Genevieve gasped loudly. She clutched her chest with both hands.
She let out a weak, pathetic whimper. Her knees gave out completely. She collapsed onto the freezing marble floor, curling her body inward as if the mere scent of the silver was burning her flesh. She forced her breathing to become shallow and erratic.
Lord Marcus froze. His hand, still raised to scold her, stopped in mid-air. The anger in his red eyes fractured, replaced by a sudden flash of shock and hesitation.
Rosalie peeked out from behind Lord Marcus. She bit her lower lip, her signature move of innocence.
"Genevieve... sister?" Rosalie asked, her voice dripping with fake tears. "Are you feeling unwell?"
Genevieve didn't miss a beat. She stole Rosalie's exact playbook.
She forced her eyes to widen. She blinked rapidly until her eyes turned red.
"I'm just... so weak," Genevieve whispered, her voice trembling perfectly. "Don't blame anyone. It's not your fault. I'm just useless."
The massive chamber went dead silent. The air turned into solid ice.
Those pathetic, white-lotus words coming from the mouth of the notoriously cold and ruthless pureblood genius felt completely wrong.
Lord Marcus's eyebrows pulled together into a deep, harsh line. He took a step forward, reaching out to check the flow of her magic.
Genevieve flinched violently. She scrambled backward like a terrified rabbit, dodging his hand.
She wrapped her arms around her shoulders. She looked up at the faint, artificial sunlight filtering through the stained-glass chandelier. She let out a choked sob and dragged her body backward, shrinking into the darkest shadow behind a thick stone pillar.
In Rosalie's perception, an invisible, parasitic connection tried to lock onto Genevieve, but it slipped away as if hitting a wall of cotton. The emotional feedback she expected completely failed to appear, leaving her prepared words stuck in her throat.
Rosalie bit her lip harder. She took a step toward the pillar, reaching her hand out to help Genevieve up. She needed physical contact to trigger her low-level luck-stealing skill.
Genevieve felt the shift in the air. She saw Rosalie's hand coming.
Without a single shred of aristocratic dignity, Genevieve threw herself sideways. She literally rolled across the dirty marble floor, tumbling deeper into the dusty corner, perfectly dodging Rosalie's touch.
Lord Marcus stared at her. His mouth parted slightly. The sight of a top-tier noble rolling on the floor like a street rat completely short-circuited his brain. His anger evaporated, replaced by a heavy, absurd sense of helplessness.
Genevieve curled into a tight ball in the shadows.
"Please, Lord Marcus," she begged, her voice cracking. "Please don't throw me out of the Court. I promise I'll just be a useless piece of trash. I won't see the sun. I'll just stay in the dark."
Lord Marcus rubbed his temples. He let out a long, exhausted sigh. He waved his hand at the low-level blood servants standing by the doors.
"Leave us," he ordered.
The servants scattered instantly. Lord Marcus walked over to the pillar. He looked down at the pureblood child who used to be his greatest pride, now reduced to a shivering puddle of mud. His eyes were a mess of conflicting emotions.
Genevieve stared hard at the intricate patterns carved into the floor. She bit the inside of her cheek until it bled to stop herself from bursting into hysterical laughter. She kept her shoulders shaking, playing the terrified newborn to perfection.
"Get up," Lord Marcus said, his voice losing its harsh edge. He thought his own pressure had broken her. "Go back to your room and rest."
Genevieve shook her head weakly.
"My legs," she whispered, looking up at him with wide, pitiful eyes. "I can't stand. Please... can someone bring a wheelchair?"
Lord Marcus's eye twitched violently. He looked like he wanted to throw her out the window. But he swallowed his frustration, walked over to the wall, and pressed the call button for his personal butler.
Ten minutes later, Genevieve sat slumped in a leather wheelchair, being pushed out of the grand doors.
Just as the doors began to close, she turned her head. She looked straight at Rosalie's confused, frustrated face.
Genevieve gave her a weak, entirely innocent smile.
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9.3
Content: (Warning! + 18 Sexual elements, Alpha Wolf, Witch, Cursed Love, Small Town, Young Wolf, War, Age Gap, Passion, Consensual Fantasy, Psychological Elements, Strong Female Lead, Drama, Romance)
Bound by blood, sealed by magic. You have finally come, Rose's daughter...
Eva Rose is the last and most powerful heir of a sacred witch bloodline.
Kael is a cursed Crimson Alpha King.
Centuries ago, on the night they discovered they were fated mates and were about to be married, their enemies attacked to destroy them both. To save Kael, Eva made a desperate choice , she trapped him in a magical sleep for 200 years. The price was her own life.
But their love was so powerful that Eva did not truly die , she was reborn. Through her own bloodline, she returned to the world as the same woman, with the same soul, the same heart.
Now, who is friend and who is enemy? And why does this man feel so strangely familiar? How can you escape someone who even visits your dreams?. 📌📚🔥
7.4
Shrouded in tales of pleasure and mystery, embark on a sensual adventure in a Cities of Sins, where the supernatural blends with the mundane in a city shrouded in fantastic tales and debauchery.
Come and discover this city, its inhabitants, and its ancient stories, amidst a tale of pleasure, lust, and tales that reveal the mysterious teachers who hide their secrets.
The question is: Are they really human or vampires?
This is the world where the dead, vampires, and witch tales intertwine in this hidden city full of mysteries from the past, amidst a life full of pleasure and lust.
In the midst of a mundane beginning, the girl was betrayed. Instead of Samantha finding solitude and suffering, she discovered a world of luxury, with her saviors, her teachers of pleasure, fantastic tales, legends of passion, shrouded in the supernatural. They embark on a limitless adventure, with sex, pleasure, and passion, which are always shrouded in fantastic power, in the world of passion and debauchery.
Lovecraft is a city that never sleeps. Built upon ancient ruins and fueled by centuries of secrets, it is known as the City of Sins, where pleasure and danger walk hand in hand. Its narrow streets, illuminated by red lanterns and eternal shadows, are the stage for encounters that defy reason: reclusive vampires hiding in decaying mansions, werewolves roaming under the full moon, witches whispering spells in hidden cafes, and mobsters controlling the underworld with iron fists and passionate hearts.
At the heart of the city, the Lost Canvas-a secret gallery-holds living portraits of forbidden loves and blood pacts. Each painting is a story, each brushstroke a memory of encounters that have marked generations. It is there that the handsome vampire Adrian, reclusive and mysterious, observes the world without ever fully surrendering. His life is a mosaic of interrupted passions, of glances that never turned into words, of promises lost in the night. But Lovecraft doesn't allow anyone to remain invisible for long.
Between the luxurious salons of socialites, the secret clubs of businessmen, and the alleys where supernatural mafias seal their pacts, the city pulsates with stories of desire and magic. Each encounter is brief but intense: a stolen kiss on a Gothic staircase, a forbidden dance in a hall lit by black candles, a whispered conversation on a ghost train that crosses the city at three in the morning. Lovecraft is made of these instants-moments that seem small, but carry the weight of eternities.
The city's inhabitants coexist with the mundane and the supernatural as if they were part of the same fabric. Businessmen negotiate with vampires, artists are inspired by fairies and elves, mobsters share territories with werewolves. It's a metropolis where power is measured not only in money, but also in spells, secrets, and seduction. Terror is subtle, almost elegant, manifesting itself in lingering gazes, in silences that conceal more than they reveal, in pacts that are never written, but always fulfilled.
Is a collection of stories that reveal Lovecraft's strengths: his ability to transform the everyday into magic, to make love a danger, and sin a promise. It is a city of wonders and dreams, of obscure encounters and ardent desires, where every corner holds a story and every shadow is an invitation. Lovecraft is not just a setting-he is a character, a lover and accomplice of all who dare to live in his eternal night.
9.4
I was lying in a sterile hospital room, dying of cancer, with only a fake infertility report to keep me company.
Right before my heart monitor flatlined, a stranger walked in and handed me a medical file.
He told me that my fiancé, Garret, had zero sperm viability. The baby my adoptive sister, Beryl, was carrying wasn't his.
When Beryl got pregnant years ago, my adoptive parents forced me to break my engagement and take the blame for being barren.
I was discarded by Garret, mocked by Beryl's triumphant smiles, and kicked out of the house.
I was left to rot alone in a hospital bed while they lived the perfect life stolen from me.
My entire existence had been a cage built on a single, disgusting lie.
The anger burned away my despair. Why was I the only one who didn't know?
Why did I let them use me as a maid and a shield for their filthy secrets?
As the darkness swallowed me, I prayed for just one more chance.
I opened my eyes to the sound of my adoptive mother yelling my name.
The calendar on the wall read March 15, 2019—the exact day they forced me to give up Garret.
This time, I didn't cry or beg.
"You want Beryl to have Garret? Fine," I told my shocked adoptive parents. "But I want a cash buyout, and we are legally severing this adoption."
Then, I set my sights on Douglass Ward—the stranger from the hospital room.
7.2
Aria Nightshade spent her entire life waiting for one thing: the moment her fated mate would claim her, making her Luna. But on the night of her bonding ceremony, Liam Draven rejects her in front of the entire pack-publicly, brutally, without hesitation. He chooses another woman. Leaves her shattered.
Humiliated beyond repair, Aria prepares to disappear into whatever's left of her dignity.
Then the Alpha King intervenes.
Kael Draven-feared, untouchable, a man who answers to no one-steps between them and claims her himself. Not out of mercy. Not out of love. For reasons he refuses to explain, he binds her to him with magic older than the packs themselves, then hauls her to his fortress and locks her in a tower.
Aria should be terrified.
Instead, she's angry. Defiant. And increasingly aware that the man holding her captive isn't quite what he seems.
Kael is cold, calculated, and obsessed with understanding what she is-a wolf who shouldn't have survived a bond rupture, who shouldn't be standing, who shouldn't exist. As he slowly reveals the truth about her past and her bloodline, Aria discovers that her rejection was never about her worth. It was about her power. The kind of power that could reshape the entire werewolf hierarchy.
But Liam can't accept his loss. Kael's protection becomes possession. And Aria's slow transformation from broken girl to something far more dangerous forces her to choose: remain the victim they all rejected, or rise as the Luna that will make them all bow.
Even if it means destroying everything-and everyone-she once cared about.
9.7
I am the Luna of the Blackwood Pack, but my Alpha mate, Ryker, has spent the last six years treating me like a placeholder while publicly pining for his ex, Faye.
When Faye's friends cornered my wolfless daughter and called her a defective embarrassment, I finally used my Luna authority to kick them out.
But instead of defending our child, Ryker stormed in and used his Alpha Command on me.
He forced me to my knees with his raw power, ordering me to apologize to the bullies who had just humiliated our daughter.
When I fought his crushing command and refused, his retaliation was swift and brutal.
He and his mother stripped me of my family's sacred heritage, the Moonpetal Grove, and gifted it to Faye as a reward.
They even tried to force a quack doctor on my daughter, telling me to just accept that she was broken.
The entire pack watched me lose everything, mocking me as the useless, rejected mate.
I had endured his coldness for years, but watching him sacrifice our daughter's safety and my family's legacy for his mistress was the final straw.
How could the Moon Goddess tie me to a man who would so easily destroy his own flesh and blood?
Instead of crying, I pulled out my mother's ancient grimoire and drafted a formal rejection of our mate bond.
And when a terrifyingly powerful, cloaked stranger suddenly appeared to save my daughter's life, carrying a familiar scent of ancient power, I knew my fate was changing.
This time, I wouldn't just walk away. I was going to burn their world to the ground.
8.7
Elena spent her entire life carrying the weight of a name nobody cared to remember. As an orphaned Omega, she lived beneath the boots of her own pack, forced to endure mockery, orders, and endless humiliation while everyone around her treated her like she didn't belong among them.
Through every miserable year, she held on to one fragile belief. Once she turned eighteen, the Moon Goddess would finally lead her to her destined mate, and that bond would become her way out of the cruel life she had suffered through for so long.
Instead, fate tore her apart in the worst possible way.
The man tied to her soul turned out to be Alpha Caleb, the cold and merciless ruler of her pack. Unfortunately for Elena, his heart already belonged to Natalie, the vicious woman who strutted around the territory as though the Luna title already belonged to her.
Rather than accepting the sacred bond between them, Caleb cast Elena aside without hesitation. In front of the entire pack, he continued to shower Natalie with affection while treating Elena like a stain he wanted erased. Within a single moment, every dream Elena had treasured collapsed, leaving her trapped in a humiliation that followed her everywhere she went.
When it seemed like there was nothing left for her to lose, another Alpha entered her life.
Davis came from beyond the pack borders, carrying rumors dark enough to make even seasoned wolves uneasy. People whispered about the curse tied to his bloodline, and many feared the destruction that seemed to follow his family wherever they went. Yet beneath the mystery and danger surrounding him, Davis offered Elena something nobody else ever had.
While Caleb chose status, power, and appearances, Davis made her feel seen. For the first time in her life, Elena began to wonder if destiny had given her another path. Maybe he was the chance she needed to finally claim the love, freedom, and strength that had always been denied to her.
Will Elena continue chasing a mate who never wanted her? Or will she walk away from the pain of rejection and embrace the man who could help her rebuild the broken pieces of her life?