Sapphyra
9.5 / 10.0
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Sapphyra used to have it all: a super-genius husband, a superhero career, and a dragon side she actually got along with.
Then everything went to hell.
When the world faced a threat she couldn't punch, Sapphyra tried to sacrifice herself so everyone she loved could escape. But Wyatt, her husband with backup plans for his backup plans, refused to let her die. He trapped her inside a digital coma, planning to wake her when the world settled down.
That was 100 years ago.
Now Sapphyra has ripped herself free and woken to a ruined city, a broken world, and a body she barely recognizes. Her powers are locked away. Her dragon side is caged. And the Class System controlling it all? Wyatt put it inside her.
Because of course he did.
It only gets messier. Guy, the charming golden retriever-energy hero she met inside the coma, is real-and so are his feelings for her. Meanwhile, Wyatt separated his mind from his body, so now his consciousness follows Sapphyra around like a brilliant, possessive bad hangover.
And then there's Rupert Domingo, the madman who escaped her digital nightmare and now rules the ruined city like his personal kingdom. He knows what happened while Sapphyra slept, and he'll give her answers...
If she survives his game first.
To win, Sapphyra has to rebuild her city, untangle her powers, face Wyatt's sins, and decide what scares her more: losing herself to grief, or becoming the dragon Rupert is desperate to wake up.
Sapphyra Chapter 1
The ground quaked twice, once with a step and the second with a thud.
Guy Dynamo had done it again.
One more giant monster slain under his belt as he floated above them triumphantly. What was it this time, a building-sized armadillo with crystal skin? A massive snail with acid-like slime?
It didn't matter to me; I had to clean them up all the same. Still, as I waded amongst the crowd of onlookers circling around him–i wondered.
What must it be like to be a superhero every day? And I do mean every day. I couldn't remember the last time the news hadn't covered Guy Dynamo saving the day.
I waved at him, catching his attention.
"Ah! Cleanup Girl! It's good to see you again." He smiled at me, teeth so white that he's actually blinded people before.
"Hey Guy. And I told you-" I pointed at my name badge," you can call me Sapphyra."
He waved his meaty palm, dismissing me.
"Nonsense. We're professionals, aren't we? It's not good to be too casual, you know."
"Guy! Can we have your autograph?" A pair of nosy teens wormed their way in. If you couldn't tell they were fans from his face being on their shirts, then something was wrong with you.
You'll never hear me admit it out loud, but I used to be one of those fangirls. I still have one of his signed comics in a box at my mom's place.
"Haha! Of course, ladies, anything for my loyal fans." He said with an air of bravado so thick you could spread it on toast.
I rolled my eyes and chuckled, grabbing my cleaning supplies. I moved somberly, stepping through the crowd to the part no one wanted to pay attention to.
The leftovers. Rubble and debris littered the asphalt before me, some pieces bigger than my body.
And at 7ft 5 inches tall, I was not a small woman.
This place used to be an apartment complex full of retirees. Now? It might as well be a graveyard. Guy Dynamo, for all his amazing abilities–like super speed–only got out a couple of kids. The rest of the older adults were too fragile to move.
But the media wasn't covering that; they never did.
It made my head hurt to think about it, so I chose not to...at least I tried not to.
One quick look around to make sure no one was paying attention to me, and I went to work.
"Vacuum!" I quietly called out, condensing the pressure in the air and pulling into me.
My mouth opened ever so slightly–just enough for a whistle. Air swirled into a vortex, sliding each leftover piece of trash and rubble into me. That handled all the small pieces, anything bigger than half my height had to be broken down first.
Something caught my attention nearby. A soft whimper followed by a sniffle. My clock said 3:30 pm and my job ends at 4:00pm–a stark reminder that I needed to work quickly. In the great metropolis of The City, overtime wasn't an option in my class.
Another whimper? No. A sob. I sighed and wiped my hands on my pants, leaving the pink and black jumpsuit dirtier than when I started.
I should leave it alone. The last time I tried to help anyone I–
The words wouldn't come. Flashes of blood and fire filled my vision, bringing me to my knees. This wasn't the first time my mind rebelled against the notion. Something was there, something in my past tried to stay buried. Blood started dribbling from my nose.
Just my body's reminder to stay in my own world.
"Damn it..." I headed towards the noise, keeping my eye out for any stray monsters. It was rare but sometimes there were followup monsters, smaller and easier to hide but just as deadly as their main counterparts.
Each step into the crumpled ruins of the city made me...ache. I'm not sure with what though. I passed through a park, overgrown with vines and rusted playground equipment. The sob I'd heard earlier was louder now.
"Hello? Does anyone need help?" I called out between cupped hands.
"Help me! Please help me!" A tiny voice called out to my far right. I was there in three quick strides, no longer holding back my size. An apartment held together with a few shaky pillars had started crumbling, leaving a small hole big enough for a tiny person to get through.
Or a child.
"Where are you?"
"I'm here! I can't move my leg! It's stuck!" A small arm, brown and grimy, reached out of the hole.
I frowned, disgruntled with the situation presented before me.
"Ya got a name kid?"
"Penny...Penny Dunbar." She sniffled.
"Hi Penny." I squat down, gently pulling away pieces of the wall with my bare hands. "My name is Sapphyra. I'm the cleaner assigned to this section of the city. Stay still, I'll do my best to get you out, okay?"
"O...okay." She softly responded, holding in sobs.
I wish I was better at comforting people. Wyatt was the comforter. He could heal a drowning man with a glass of water. No, shit, don't go down memory lane now..
Another chunk gone, I could see her there. A massive piece of wall was pinning her leg down beneath the broken ceiling. It was almost poetic, the sun shining down on a child near a park.
"Hey Penny, I can see you! I've got you, any second now."
"Okay." The tears softly fell from her sunken eyes. The poor thing looked like she hadn't eaten in days.
Her eyes widened when she saw me-a giant black lady with pink cotton candy hair and ocean blue eyes-not exactly subtle. It's not the first time I've gotten that reaction.
My mom told me stories about the old days. Kids used to play in parks freely. There were monsters but only those of human design, men parading around in ice cream trucks and candy vans.
Wyatt and I once talked about starting a–fuck! There I go again. What is wrong with me today?
Now we have actual monsters, anything from vampire tigers to zombie wooly mammoths on a daily basis. And after the attacks? People like Penny, those in the poorer districts get left behind. Souls left behind that have to pick up the pieces and move on while the city forgets and cheers for its heroes. They shouldn't have to.
Things like that are why I took this job.
I rip off the chunk holding her down with ease. I tried to give her a reassuring smile, a reminder that she wasn't alone in this.
Gray dust fell onto my nose–the only warning that the ceiling was about to come down.
Muscles tensing–my body moved on its own, arms spread wide to cover Penny.
"Shit-"
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Sapphyra of Contents
New Release Novels
7.8
Alayna was working a grueling catering shift in worn-out heels to support her broke college boyfriend, Caiden, who claimed to be studying at the library.
But through the crack of a VIP suite door, she saw him wearing a bespoke suit and a Patek Philippe watch, sipping expensive liquor.
"It's a little poverty role-play. Keeps things interesting."
He was laughing with his rich friends, mocking her as his clueless "charity case."
To make matters worse, she was forced into a humiliating mascot costume just in time to watch him passionately kiss his wealthy ex-girlfriend.
That same night, Alayna's mother collapsed with gastric cancer, requiring a half-million-dollar surgery.
When a desperate Alayna begged Caiden for help, he refused.
"Why don't you just apply for Medicaid? That's the path for people like you."
For two years, she had starved herself to buy his textbooks, his tickets, and his shoes.
He had stolen her sweat and her sacrifices, all for a cruel game.
The sheer audacity of his betrayal made her blood run cold.
When a billionaire stranger stepped in to pay her mother's medical bills in exchange for a one-year fake marriage, Alayna didn't hesitate to sign the contract.
She slipped the flawless diamond ring onto her finger, opened a spreadsheet, and sent Caiden an invoice for every single cent.
This time, she was going to dismantle his entire life.
9.4
I thought the Burch family gave me a loving home when they took me out of the orphanage.
But when the global deep freeze apocalypse hit, my adoptive parents mercilessly kicked me out of the bunker to freeze to death.
As I lay dying in the snow, covered in horrific purple frostbite, my adoptive sister Kendal walked past me in a pristine designer jacket.
Around her neck was my only childhood possession—an antique gold necklace my adoptive mother had ripped off my neck to give to her.
Kendal gloated, bragging that my pendant held a magical space with infinite supplies and fresh food while the rest of the world starved.
I realized I had spent years emptying my life savings to fund their luxury cars and fake medical emergencies.
They had drained my bank accounts, stolen my bloodline's heirloom, and used my magical lifeline to live like royalty while leaving me to die.
I took my last ragged breath in that blinding blizzard, consumed by a toxic hatred.
Why was I so hopelessly weak? Why did I let them take everything from me?
Opening my eyes again, the painful frostbite scars were gone. My skin was warm.
I grabbed my phone. The screen lit up: November 12.
It was exactly three days before the world ended.
When my adoptive mother called, faking a tearful emergency to demand another thirty thousand dollars, I smiled coldly.
"Just tell me where to send the money, Mom."
This time, I'm taking my space back, and I'm going to drain them dry.
7.6
When the Pollard family kicked Alyssa out into the freezing rain, Walter threw a ten-thousand-dollar check into a dirty puddle.
"Take it and get out. Don't ever come back," he sneered.
Her adoptive mother and stepsister stood on the mansion's porch, mocking her as a worthless country girl who tarnished their wealthy name. They laughed, claiming she wouldn't even be able to afford community college and would be begging on the streets in a week.
They looked at her cheap clothes and worn backpack with absolute disgust.
They were completely unaware that for the past five years, Alyssa was the secret mastermind who had built their failing gallery into a multi-million-dollar investment empire.
Every key investment, every fortune they made, came from the anonymous notes she had slipped into their unread books. They genuinely believed they were business geniuses, while treating the true architect of their wealth like a stray dog.
Looking at their smug, arrogant faces, Alyssa didn't feel a shred of sadness, only a cold, sharp irony.
They actually believed they had raised her.
She stepped close, whispered the master code to Walter's most secret offshore account, and watched the blood completely drain from his face.
"I raised you," she said, turning her back on the mansion without hesitation.
Walking into the storm, she pulled out a heavily encrypted phone and gave a single, cold order.
"Initiate a full hostile takeover of the Pollard Group."
It was time to end this little game and step into her true life—as the world's most elusive medical genius, and the long-lost billionaire heiress of the Summers dynasty.
8.2
When our family empire crumbled, my sister and I were sold off as collateral to the Chicago Outfit.
My fierce sister Frankie was forced to marry Damien Moretti, the terrifying Don. I was shackled to his brother Leo, a notorious, degenerate playboy.
I thought my life was over, but the real nightmare began on our wedding night. A terrified maid handed me the wrong room key. Exhausted and numb, I crawled into a dark honeymoon suite, praying my new husband would be too drunk to find me.
Instead, the heavy door opened, and a man fueled by a drug-laced drink stepped in. He was ruthless, punishing, and entirely stripped away my dignity in the pitch black.
When the morning light finally broke, I turned my head, expecting to see Leo's boyish face. Instead, I saw a profile carved from ice.
Damien Moretti. The Don. My sister's husband.
The very man who had previously called me a "liability" and ruined my life. When he realized who I was, his eyes filled with absolute, chilling disgust. He dragged me out of the ruined sheets, threw me onto the floor of a freezing shower, and demanded to know why I had sneaked into his suite.
"You ruined me. How am I supposed to look at Frankie? You should have just killed me. Kill me now, Damien. It would be a mercy compared to this."
I sobbed, the freezing water mingling with my tears. He just stared down at me with cold, unreadable intent. I was now trapped in a house of monsters, carrying the Don's darkest secret, and I had to figure out how to survive without destroying my sister.
9.1
I drowned in freezing pool water, the mocking laughter of the elite Savage family echoing in my ears.
When I opened my eyes, I was an eight-year-old orphan again, right on the day those monsters came to adopt me.
Terrified of repeating my hellish past, I ran down the hallway and desperately grabbed the shirt of a random, dumpy IT guy, begging him to take me instead.
I thought I had chosen a weak, boring suburban dad to hide behind.
But I was completely wrong.
My new mom greeted me with a ceramic tactical knife hidden in her apron.
My clumsy dad sliced dinner ribs with the terrifying precision of a seasoned hitman.
My ten-year-old brother was a dead-eyed sociopath who immediately calculated my bone density.
They were a family of lethal underworld monsters, yet they frantically pretended to be a normal, pathetic household just for me.
7.4
I was freezing to death in an abandoned cabin, desperately waiting for my fiancé to save me.
Instead, my phone flickered with a video from my adopted sister.
She was smiling as she confessed that she and my fiancé had orchestrated my kidnapping, and my parents' fatal plane crash, just to steal my family's trust fund.
When I called him with my dying breath, he mocked me for faking a PR stunt and hung up.
I died in the sub-zero blizzard, consumed by absolute despair.
But as a ghost, I watched my greatest business rival, the ruthless billionaire Collins, kick down the doors of my mansion.
He didn't just mourn me.
He shot my fiancé, trapped my sister, and set the entire place on fire, choosing to burn alive in the inferno just to avenge me.
I couldn't understand why the man I had publicly despised for a decade loved me so fiercely, while the people I gave everything to wanted me dead.
Opening my eyes again, I was back backstage on the night I won my Oscar, four years ago.
My fiancé smiled, holding out his arms to hug me.
I pushed him away in disgust, marched straight into the crowded theater, and kissed my billionaire rival on live television.
"Let's get married tomorrow."
This time, I would use him to burn them all to the ground.
![[Dubbed Version]The Unspoken Regret](https://v.melolo.com/b1265344voduse1318177724/3ad602b95145403706034363383/f0LUTJ1nxC4A.webp!15491.webp!15491.webp)
