BStallion

Arcane Lachtara was my name after I woke up in an unfamiliar world that was divided into kingdoms where Kings and queens ruled the world. I was an adoptive princess from Ridavell, on my way to Ohearia to form a marriage alliance between the two countries. Actually I knew what was going to happen next, I was about to be played with and then killed… you ask why? Because the place I woke up in is a novel where I am the minor villainess. 
There were three ML’s in the story, A psychopath prince, a War hero Duke and last but not least the two faced mage. She is to die with the hands of the ML’s after she hurts the FL but… “why are you killing me even when I haven’t done anything to the FL?” Arcane cried as the Duke and Mage were always trying to cut off her neck. 
But something is wrong with the cursed Prince,He keeps on calling me his little sister and coax me whenever I am sad.
“Whoever dares to hurt my sister will have to suffer.” He said in a deep monotonous voice, while losing at the FL with a Hostile look in his eyes.

A story of how Arcane lived through the crisis…

Your Highness! I Would Like To Live

As a harsh wind howled through the forest, the trees swayed and trembled, clinging desperately to their leaves as they braced against the onslaught. Suddenly, a gust of wind coalesced into a swirling vortex before dissipating, revealing a tall figure standing in its wake. The man's soft silver hair flowed gracefully in the gentle breeze that followed the violent gust. 


The man, Symon, surveyed his surroundings with a cold, calculating gaze. "It should be here," he muttered in a monotonous tone before taking a step forward. "This time when I catch you, I will make sure you lose that neck of yours," he hissed, his thoughts consumed with thoughts of revenge against Arcane, the one who had dared to steal from him. 


Calling out to his companion, a leopard named Soul, Symon commanded, "Track the necklace down! And I will allow you to feast on her as a reward." Soul responded with a fierce roar before beginning to sniff around the area, his senses honed in on the scent of his quarry. 


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