Cherreads

Loving The Wrong Brother’s Touch

SukieWrites
"Why are you shy?" Charles's husky voice sounded after I quickly pulled on my robe. "It's not like I haven't seen you naked before." His breath was warm against my ear. I closed my eyes and tried to control my raging hormones. How could I tell him that I was shy because I was his brother's girlfriend? When did he get so close? "You should never be shy, Cara." His lips brushed my ear. "You should let me worship you." ******** I just wanted to play a little prank. Now I'm playing with fire. After an embarrassing fall, I wake up in the hospital with my boyfriend's brother by my side instead of my boyfriend. So I do what any sensible girl would do: I claim I've lost my memory. How was I supposed to know my boyfriend was waiting for an excuse to parade my best friend around as his true love? Now I'm stuck. I can't remember "my boyfriend," so I can't confront Edward. What is most baffling, is his older brother. My no-nonsense, Icy veined boss, Charles has decided to play along. He's acting as my boyfriend, and he's taking the role very seriously. Too seriously. His hands linger. His eyes follow me. Knowing what I know, why does his attention feel so good? Why am I starting to wish I actually lost my memory?
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Warcraft: The Light alone cannot save Azeroth

The Light alone cannot save Azeroth. No one can. They whisper these words like gospel, like inevitable truth carved into stone. WHO decided that? Who appointed fate as our master? Who crowned despair as our king? I was once a prince who believed in salvation through obedience. Through the Light. Through duty to crown and clergy. Through blind faith in powers greater than myself. And I learned a bitter lesson: the gods do not fight our wars. The heavens do not bleed for us. But I have shed that weakness like a serpent sheds its skin. Azeroth does not need saviors who kneel and pray. It does not need heroes who defer to prophecy and hope for divine intervention. It needs those willing to seize POWER—the power of conviction, of will, of absolute determination—and wield it without hesitation, without apology, without the paralyzing doubt of lesser men. I have seen what humanity is capable of when we stop asking permission. When we stop waiting for the Light to guide us. When we decide that OUR strength, OUR choice, OUR sacrifice will be enough. So I say this to every soul that hears me: We will not be saved by distant gods or ancient prophecies or the benevolence of forces we cannot control. We will be saved by OURSELVES. By conviction. By the refusal to accept defeat as destiny. By the recognition that WE are the authors of Azeroth's fate. The question is not whether we CAN save Azeroth. The question is whether we have the strength to decide that WE WILL, and to become the warriors, the leaders, the sacrifice that this world demands. That is the path of a true prince of Lordaeron. That is our burden. That is our glory. Of Humanity! This is not the same translation as my other one, New Dawn of Lordaeron. 魔兽:圣光救不了艾泽拉斯
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