War God Supreme - Chapter 9

Vincent van Gogh, the painter who refused to be an accessory Of power and painted with his soul at the tip of a brush, was not understood by anyone and had to die like a madman, and he woke up in 21st century Korea.

Like a wheat field melted with gold, like a sunflower that swallowed the sun, a dazzling painter once again takes the brush.

“I DON'T WANT TO DIE A SECOND TIME!!!”___Ellen Summers' life turns upside down after a freak accident lands her in a strange world. She wakes up as Ellen Winters, the antagonist in an online novel she once read. No longer an orphan and poor, she now has a loving father and finds herself surrounded by wealth.But in the novel, Ellen Winters meets a tragic fate, dying at the end after being abandoned by her husband, Mason Coldwell, who still harbors feelings for his ex-girlfriend, Aubrey. Determined to escape this cruel destiny, Ellen decides to rewrite her story. She fights to keep Mason and Aubrey apart, knowing the heartbreaking consequences that await if they reunite.However, as she tries to change her fate, Ellen unexpectedly begins to fall for Mason. Just as she starts to believe in a future together, an unforeseen terror disrupts her plans. Ellen wonders if her attempts to alter the storyline have unleashed something darker.Can Ellen truly change the course of fate and find happiness with Mason, or will the shadows of the original story prove too powerful to overcome? And will they survive the terrors that threaten to engulf them?

The clock struck midnight when Ruelle heard the echo of footsteps. She tensed, the fine hairs on the back of her neck standing on end in the cool night air.“You shouldn't be here,” Ruelle whispered, her voice a breathless murmur. The silhouette finally came to stand under the moonlight, his dark red eyes watching her and his inky black hair ruffling.“Shouldn't I?” His voice was a dark caress, and she stood there captivated by the danger he exuded like perfume.“I haven’t seen you for the last two days,” his tone low. His hand reached out, fingers brushing against the silk of her nightgown, tracing the trembling outline of her collarbone. “Tell me, were you avoiding me, or perhaps... entertaining other offers?”Ruelle’s heart raced, her breaths shallow. She declared, “I don't belong to anyone.”“A bold claim,“ he murmured, his breath a tantalising chill against her skin as he leaned in. ”Yet here you are, pulse racing, your body tensed as if in anticipation of my touch.”His fingers gripped her chin, tilting her face towards his. The moonlight caught his eyes, revealing a glint of predatory intent. “Or must I remind you whose touch you truly crave?”