My Twin Is a Void Lord? I Still Pinched Him Into Submission
I was the supreme architect of reality. Now I'm trapped in a womb with my twin brother Jaden, and he's already trying to kill me.
Born with a Void Lord core, Jaden is a gluttonous black hole that started draining my life force before I even had eyelids. Unfortunately for him, my ancient soul came with me. I crushed his consciousness, chained his dark power, and established the only rule that matters: Sister is God.
Three years later, he's a whimpering, chocolate-donut-obsessed mess who cries when I threaten to cancel snack time. I've got a demonic shadow bird enforcing my orders and a mother who has no idea her adorable daughter is secretly terrifying.
But when assassins hunting my family corner us in the forest, I have to stop playing cute. They see a toddler in pink overalls. I show them what an architect of reality looks like.
My twin is a Void Lord destined to consume worlds. He still flinches when I raise an eyebrow. Some hierarchies are eternal.
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Chapter 2
Emerson pushed her awareness against the uterine wall. She focused her newly gathered Aether into her developing auditory nerves. The muffled sounds outside sharpened into brutal clarity.
A low, frantic chanting vibrated through the floorboards. The stench of sulfur and rotting blood hit Kamala, causing a violent wave of nausea. The sudden spike of intense, suffocating terror flooded her bloodstream with stress hormones, chilling the amniotic fluid.
"Josue, what are you doing?" Kamala's voice trembled. "What is this circle?"
The chanting stopped.
"Sacrifices must be made, Kamala," Josue said. His voice was dead, devoid of any human warmth. "If I am to reach Ascension, I need fuel."
Kamala's heartbeat skyrocketed. The frantic thumping echoed like war drums in Emerson's ears.
"I am your wife!" Kamala screamed. "I am carrying our children!"
"The bloodline of a high-born heiress," Josue mocked, his boots stepping closer. "Combined with the pure, unborn souls of twins. It is the perfect catalyst."
A wave of pure terror crashed through Kamala's bloodstream. The temperature of the womb plummeted.
A sickening, freezing mass of Shadow Aether locked onto Kamala's stomach.
Emerson reacted instantly. She drained her tiny Mana Core, throwing up a razor-thin shield of magic around herself and her brother.
Shhhk.
The wet, heavy sound of a blade tearing through flesh and muscle echoed in the dark.
Kamala let out a blood-curdling shriek. Her entire body convulsed. The violent spasm crushed Emerson against the uterine wall.
Life force began pouring out of Kamala, draining away like water down a cracked sink. The sacrificial circle on the floor below them pulled like a magnet, trying to rip Emerson's soul straight out of her chest.
Beside her, Jaden's chaotic energy flared again, provoked by the dark magic. He was about to explode.
Emerson slammed her soul pressure down on him. Do not move. You will tear her apart.
Outside, Kamala's maternal instinct overrode her agony. Her bloody hands clamped down on Josue's wrist, her fingernails digging into his skin.
"You will not touch them!" Kamala roared. The love in her voice was gone. Only raw, bleeding hatred remained.
Kamala shoved her free hand into her pocket. Her fingers crushed a silver Rune Stone.
A blinding, explosive light detonated in the basement.
A massive spatial shockwave slammed into Josue, throwing him backward. His spine cracked against the stone wall. The sacrificial pull snapped.
Kamala clamped both hands over the gaping wound in her abdomen. She stumbled forward, her boots slipping on her own blood, and kicked the iron door open.
Freezing rain and howling wind slapped against her face. She threw herself into the pitch-black pine forest.
Her boots sank into the thick mud. She fell hard to her knees, the impact jarring the babies inside her. She forced herself back up, gasping for air, her lungs wheezing.
Inside, Emerson pushed tiny pulses of Aether toward the wound, trying to clot the severed blood vessels. But Josue's Shadow Aether coated the blade's entry point. It ate through Emerson's healing magic like acid.
"You cannot run, Kamala!" Josue's furious roar echoed through the trees behind them. "The perimeter is sealed!"
Kamala ground her teeth together. She leaned her shoulder against a rough pine trunk and dragged her feet forward.
Emerson felt the mother's heart rate slowing. The blood loss was too severe. Kamala had less than ten minutes before her organs failed.
If Kamala died, they all died.
Emerson made her choice. She sank her consciousness to the absolute bottom of her Noetic Space. She reached for the heavy, forbidden iron doors of her past life's power.
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9.5
Alina was the eldest daughter of the prestigious Padilla family, but everyone mocked her as a defective dud who couldn't cast a single spell.
The moment she woke up, her father and younger sister Karina barged into her room, demanding she sign a transfer agreement to the Aethelgard Order-the most brutal faction on the continent.
It wasn't just a transfer; it was a legal disownment. In her past life, Alina didn't realize Karina was also reborn. She had dropped to her knees and begged to stay. Her reward? Her magic was violently drained from her veins by her own family. Her fiancé drove a blade through her chest, and her sister stood over her bleeding body, smiling. She had ruined her hands making potions for them, only to be discarded like trash.
The phantom pain of her chest being ripped open still burned behind her ribs. Looking at the hypocritical family waiting for her tears, she felt nothing but exhausting disgust. Why should she ever be their stepping stone again?
"For the honor of the family, you leave today."
Her father sneered as she calmly bit her thumb and pressed her bloody fingerprint onto the contract. This time, Alina didn't cry. She packed a single bag and walked out the door, heading straight for the deadly Aethelgard Order to show them what a true monster looked like.
8.0
My husband, Jackson, the Alpha of the Dorsey Pack, was supposed to be my partner, my equal. I paid for everything, from his suits to our private jet. Today, the man I loved told me I wasn't flying with him to the Alpha Summit.
Instead, he declared his mistress, Amber, "fragile" and needing my jet, while I got an economy ticket. His mother, Cornelia, added my healing "aura" was too "intense" for Amber.
My heart shattered from the public humiliation. Jackson kissed Amber, a tenderness denied me for years, while the pack looked away. He even blocked our mind-link, the ultimate rejection.
A searing, cold rage erupted. For five years, I suppressed my royal White Wolf blood, enduring their disdain for a man who now cast me aside like trash.
As my jet lifted into the sky, something inside me unleashed. I pulled out my phone, fingers trembling with resolve. "Cancel the Gulfstream's flight. Ground them. Cut everything. The game is over."
8.0
For six years, I played the perfect, submissive wife to Wall Street titan Francis Castro. I suffocated my own ambitions to fit into his conservative world.
But while I waited alone at a Michelin restaurant, a news alert popped up. My husband had just dropped millions on an aquamarine diamond necklace for his "muse," Chanelle.
The real nightmare began when I rushed home to find our five-year-old son in severe anaphylactic shock. I frantically called Francis from the ambulance, but he manually rejected my calls. He couldn't leave the bidding war for Chanelle's PR launch.
When he finally arrived at the ER, Chanelle was right beside him, wearing that blinding multi-million-dollar necklace. He didn't ask about our dying son.
"Why weren't you watching him?" he demanded, his voice hard and accusing.
And when my son woke up, hazy from the drugs, he rejected my touch and reached for Chanelle instead. Francis just stood there, praising Chanelle for knowing exactly how to calm him down.
I stared at the three of them looking like a perfect, happy family. Six years of swallowing my pride, only to realize my husband would let our son choke to death just to buy another woman's smile.
The last thread of my heart snapped. I handed him the divorce papers, demanding zero alimony. Then, I drove to a hidden Brooklyn loft, cut off my hair, and unlocked my safe.
It was time to resurrect my true identity—the legendary fashion designer, Ember.J. I am going to burn her empire to the ground.
8.2
My son Leo had just died, and the silence in our cramped apartment felt like a physical weight crushing my chest.
Before I could even process the grief, my husband, Preston, kicked the door open and threw divorce papers onto the table.
Behind him stood Gloria, wearing a pristine cashmere coat and the diamond pendant Preston swore he had pawned to pay for Leo's hospital bills.
"Sign it," Preston said coldly. "You get nothing."
Gloria smirked, mocking me for failing to keep my sick child alive. When I tore up the papers in a blinding rage, Preston slapped me to the floor.
Then, my biological mother, Jerilyn, walked in. Instead of helping me, she pulled a serrated kitchen knife from her bag and plunged it deep into my stomach.
As I lay dying in a pool of my own blood, Jerilyn leaned in and whispered the devastating truth.
"I swapped you in the nursery. Gloria is my blood, and you belong in a Manhattan mansion. I can't let you ruin her life."
Until my lungs stopped working, I was consumed by a roaring, violent hatred. My own mother had traded my life of privilege for poverty, let my son die, and then murdered me to protect the fake.
Opening my eyes again, the dingy ceiling and the agonizing pain were gone.
I was sitting at a wooden desk, surrounded by the chatter of teenagers.
I was back in high school. And this time, I was going to make them pay.
8.0
"Don't you dare touch me. You bloody monster," Eric whispered glaring at me, which only turned me on the more.
A beautiful smile crossed my lips; luckily for us, his fake mother was so focused on Katherine, she did not know I was fucking her son before her eyes.
"So I am now a monster, huh? That was not what you said yesterday. Or have you forgotten about our hot night?" I asked as I traced my way to his lap again, approaching his groin area.
He swallowed hard, his eyes roaming around. "Damien. I am Katherine's fiancé. your niece" He reminded me as my hands reached his groan, caressing it through the layers of his trousers.
"Yesterday you were Mike's boyfriend, and what did I tell you? I don't give a fuck!," I whispered back. "Now be quiet and try to control yourself" .
Eric's life is thrown upside down when his brother is killed on his coronation day, and he now has to become the king. and he can't because he is gay and he has a boyfriend who he loves dearly, or so he thought until he met Damien Monetro, his fiancée's uncle and his former one-night stand
9.6
I endured years of humiliation and forced sedatives from my billionaire husband's family, hoping my quiet obedience would eventually win his heart. When I finally discovered I was pregnant, I thought the child would be our anchor.
But when I rushed to his office to tell him, I found his untouchable first love sitting in his chair, rubbing her own swollen belly.
She smiled and whispered that she was the one who orchestrated the car crash that left my adoptive mother in a vegetative state.
When I lunged at her in a blind rage, my husband shielded her and shoved me backward with brutal force. My spine slammed against a marble table, and blood pooled at my feet.
"Kingston, please! I'm pregnant too!" I sobbed, clutching my stomach.
He just looked down at me with profound disgust.
"I had a vasectomy five years ago," he hissed, condemning me as a cheating whore before ordering his men to lock me up and forcibly abort the child.
I had never touched another man. I couldn't understand how the man I loved could order the murder of his own flesh and blood without a second thought.
To save myself, I stole his prized Aston Martin and drove it off a bridge into the freezing Atlantic, letting his pathetic, obedient wife drown in the wreckage.
Five years later, I returned to New York as a powerful European executive, ready to burn his empire to the ground.