Introduction
At least, that is what everyone believes.
I staged my death to escape a powerful family, a violent past, and the secrets that nearly destroyed me. Since then, I have lived quietly beneath a stolen name, careful never to give anyone a reason to look too closely.
Then my boss calls me into his office and places a photograph of my funeral on the desk.
He knows who I am.
Worse, he has known for years.
Instead of exposing me, he offers me a deal: pretend to be his fiancée, step back into the world I escaped, and help him uncover the person hunting everyone connected to my past.
I should refuse.
Especially because he belongs to the family I have spent six years blaming for my father’s murder.
But when bodies begin appearing, someone breaks into my home, and secrets from my childhood resurface, I realise hiding will not save me anymore.
Then we open my grave.
It was supposed to be empty.
It isn’t.
Someone was buried in my place.
And whoever put her there is finally coming back for me.
Chapter 1
POV: Mara Lane
The first thing I learned after dying was how easy it was to become invisible.
People imagine disappearing requires money, connections, fake passports, and a genius capable of erasing every digital footprint you have ever left behind.
It doesn’t.
Mostly, it requires discipline.
Don’t make friends who ask too many questions.
Don’t drink enough to accidentally tell someone where you grew up.
Don’t post photographs.
Don’t celebrate your birthday.
Don’t fall in love.
And, most importantly, never look over your shoulder.
Because eventually, someone will notice you are afraid of what is behind you.
For six years, I had followed those rules perfectly.
Until Monday morning.
I was walking toward the glass doors of Blackwell & Co. when I saw the car.
Black Mercedes.
Tinted windows.
Parked across the street.
There was nothing unusual about an expensive car sitting in the financial district. Half the men who worked in my building drove vehicles worth more than the apartment I rented.
But I had seen this one before.
Friday night.
Outside my apartment.
I stopped.
Only for a second.
A normal person might have stared.
A normal person might have checked whether someone was sitting inside.
A normal person might have pulled out their phone and taken a photograph of the licence plate.
But I hadn’t survived six years by behaving like a normal person.
I adjusted the strap of my handbag and kept walking.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
My pulse hammered harder with each step.
The revolving doors swallowed me into the lobby.
I didn’t look back.
“Morning, Mara.”
I nearly jumped.
The security guard behind the desk smiled at me.
“Morning, Frank.”
“You okay?”
“Monday.”
He laughed.
I smiled.
That was the trick.
Always smile.
People didn’t question women who smiled.
I tapped my security card against the elevator reader and stepped inside.
Thirty-eight floors.
My reflection stared back at me from the mirrored wall.
Brown hair twisted into a neat low bun. Cream blouse. Black pencil skirt. Small gold earrings.
Nothing memorable.
That had been intentional.
Six years ago, my hair had fallen nearly to my waist.
Six years ago, I wore red lipstick.
Diamonds.
Designer dresses.
Six years ago, photographers had followed my family to restaurants.
People knew my name.
Then I died.
And Mara Lane was born.
The elevator doors opened.
“Morning!” Sophie called from reception.
“Morning.”
I moved toward my desk, forcing myself not to glance toward the windows overlooking the street.
The Mercedes didn’t matter.
Cars looked alike.
Cities were crowded.
Coincidences happened.
That was what I told myself while switching on my computer.
That was what I told myself while typing my password incorrectly twice.
That was what I told myself when my hands started trembling.
“Mara?”
I looked up.
Sophie stood beside my desk holding a coffee.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I almost laughed.
Instead, I smiled.
“Didn’t sleep well.”
She handed me the coffee.
“You need this more than I do.”
“Thanks.”
“Don’t thank me yet. I expect you to save me from the Henderson report.”
“Consider this payment.”
“Exactly.”
She wandered back toward reception.
I wrapped both hands around the cup.
Warm.
Solid.
Real.
I breathed.
I was Mara Lane.
Twenty-eight years old.
Born in Perth.
Parents deceased.
No siblings.
Moved to the city five years ago.
Worked at Blackwell & Co. for three years.
Liked black coffee and Thai food.
Hated reality television.
Had never been engaged.
Had never owned a horse.
Had never watched my father bleed to death on white marble flooring.
My throat tightened.
Stop.
I opened my emails.
Eight forty-seven.
Client enquiries.
Reports.
Meeting notes.
Normal.
Normal was safety.
I had spent six years building normal.
At nine fifteen, Sophie appeared again.
This time she wasn’t smiling.
“Mara?”
Something cold crawled down my spine.
“Yes?”
“Mr. Blackwell wants to see you.”
My fingers stopped above the keyboard.
“Now?”
She nodded.
I glanced toward the hallway leading to the executive offices.
“Did he say why?”
“No.”
That didn’t make sense.
I worked in compliance.
Sebastian Blackwell owned the company.
There were approximately three hundred employees between us on the corporate food chain.
I had spoken to him four times in three years.
Five, if I counted the Christmas party when he had taken the champagne glass from my hand before I knocked it onto an investor’s wife.
I remembered that moment more clearly than I should have.
His fingers had brushed mine.
His eyes had held mine for half a second too long.
Dark.
Unreadable.
Dangerously observant.
I had avoided him ever since.
“When did he ask?” I said.
Sophie frowned.
“About thirty seconds ago.”
I looked toward Sebastian’s office.
Glass walls.
Closed door.
Blinds drawn.
My heartbeat changed.
Slow.
Heavy.
Wrong.
“Did I do something?”
“If you did, pretend you didn’t.”
“Helpful.”
“I try.”
I stood.
My knees felt strangely weak.
It was ridiculous.
This was work.
Maybe a report had an error.
Maybe a client had complained.
Maybe he wanted someone moved onto a new account.
There were dozens of ordinary reasons for Sebastian Blackwell to request a meeting.
I walked down the hallway repeating them in my head.
Report.
Client.
Promotion.
Audit.
Report.
Client.
Promotion.
Audit.
I knocked.
“Come in.”
His voice travelled through the door like velvet wrapped around steel.
I stepped inside.
Sebastian Blackwell sat behind his desk.
Every time I saw him, I was reminded that some men seemed born with the kind of face people trusted even when every instinct warned them not to.
He was thirty-three.
Maybe thirty-four.
I had never cared enough to check.
That was a lie.
I knew he was thirty-four.
I knew he had taken over Blackwell & Co. seven years ago after his father died.
I knew he rarely gave interviews.
I knew he lived somewhere outside the city behind gates tall enough to discourage curiosity.
I knew women watched him when he entered rooms.
I understood why.
Sebastian had dark hair that never seemed as carefully styled as the rest of him, strong features, broad shoulders, and eyes so dark they were almost black.
Today, his charcoal suit jacket was draped over the back of his chair.
White shirt.
Sleeves rolled to his forearms.
No tie.
Something about the casualness made him more intimidating.
“Close the door, Mara.”
My stomach dropped.
I closed it.
“Sit.”
“I’d rather stand.”
His eyebrow lifted.
The corner of his mouth shifted.
Almost amused.
“Do I make you nervous?”
“No.”
Another lie.
“You’re gripping your handbag like there’s a weapon inside it.”
My fingers loosened instantly.
There wasn’t a weapon inside it.
Not anymore.
“I have reports due.”
“They can wait.”
“Mr. Blackwell—”
“Sebastian.”
I stared at him.
He leaned back.
“Three years working for me and you still call me Mr. Blackwell.”
“You’re my employer.”
“Technically, your employer is Blackwell & Co.”
“You own Blackwell & Co.”
His gaze remained on mine.
“You always have an answer.”
“I’m in compliance.”
“That explains everything.”
Despite myself, I almost smiled.
Then I noticed the blinds.
Every one of them closed.
The glass walls usually made his office visible to half the floor.
Not today.
My instincts screamed.
I moved slightly toward the door.
Sebastian noticed.
Of course he did.
“What is this about?”
His expression changed.
The faint amusement disappeared.
He reached into his desk drawer.
My muscles tensed.
Then he placed an envelope on the desk.
Cream.
Old.
Not office stationery.
“What’s that?”
“Sit down.”
“I’m fine.”
“Mara.”
Something in his voice made me obey.
I sat.
Sebastian pushed the envelope across the desk.
I didn’t touch it.
“I need you to look at something.”
“If this is related to work—”
“It isn’t.”
My pulse stumbled.
“Then I don’t understand why I’m here.”
“You will.”
He opened the envelope himself.
Pulled out a photograph.
Placed it face down.
My breathing became shallow.
There was no reason.
No reason at all.
But suddenly I knew.
Not what was on the photograph.
Only that whatever happened next was going to destroy the life I had built.
Sebastian’s fingers rested against the edge of the picture.
“Before I show you this,” he said, “I need you to understand something.”
I stared at him.
“I’m not going to the police.”
Ice slid through my veins.
“What?”
“The police aren’t involved.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know.”
“You know what?”
He studied me.
Not Mara Lane.
Me.
The woman beneath her.
I stood abruptly.
“I have work to do.”
He flipped the photograph.
My body stopped.
Everything stopped.
My breath.
My thoughts.
My heart.
It was a funeral.
Rain fell over a cemetery crowded with black umbrellas.
Flowers surrounded a polished mahogany coffin.
White roses.
Hundreds of them.
I remembered those roses.
My mother loved white roses.
She had insisted they cover the coffin because they represented purity.
A sick joke, considering the family we came from.
I stared at the photograph.
Six years disappeared.
I smelled rain.
Wet earth.
Lilies.
I heard church bells.
Except I hadn’t been there.
I had watched the funeral from a motel room two hundred kilometres away while the news broadcast showed my mother collapsing beside my coffin.
My empty coffin.
My fingers went numb.
No.
No, no, no.
I looked closer.
There were people surrounding the grave.
My mother.
My uncle.
Men I recognised.
Men I had spent six years trying to forget.
But that wasn’t what Sebastian wanted me to see.
Near the back stood a man without an umbrella.
Tall.
Black suit.
Rain soaking his hair.
His face was younger, but unmistakable.
Sebastian.
My gaze snapped to him.
He was watching me.
Not surprised.
Not confused.
Waiting.
I swallowed.
“What is this?”
“You recognise it.”
“No.”
“You do.”
“It looks like a funeral.”
“It was.”
I forced myself to laugh.
The sound came out wrong.
“You called me up here to show me a photograph of a funeral?”
“Your funeral.”
My stomach turned.
“I think you have me confused with someone else.”
“No.”
“My name is Mara Lane.”
“I know what your name is now.”
“Now?”
Sebastian rose.
Slowly.
He came around the desk.
I backed away.
“Stay away from me.”
He stopped.
His eyes dropped briefly to my hands.
They were shaking.
Damn it.
“Mara—”
“Whatever you think you know, you’re wrong.”
“I’m not.”
“You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know more than you think.”
“Then you’re insane.”
“Possibly.”
I reached for the door.
His next words stopped me.
“Don’t go home tonight.”
My hand froze on the handle.
I looked at him.
“What?”
“Someone was outside your apartment on Friday.”
The room tilted.
Black Mercedes.
My mouth went dry.
“How do you know where I live?”
“Because this didn’t start this morning.”
“What didn’t?”
He stepped closer.
I hated the way my body registered him even while fear crawled through me.
His height.
The heat of him.
The faint scent of cedar and expensive cologne.
Danger shouldn’t have been attractive.
Sebastian Blackwell made it difficult to remember that.
“I need you to listen to me carefully,” he said.
“You have thirty seconds before I call security.”
“You won’t.”
“You seem very sure.”
“Because security works for me.”
My heart slammed against my ribs.
“You’re threatening me?”
“No.”
His gaze held mine.
“I’m trying to keep you alive.”
I laughed again.
“Very funny.”
His expression didn’t change.
“You saw the Mercedes.”
Every drop of blood drained from my face.
He knew.
Sebastian reached into his pocket.
For one insane second, I thought he might touch me.
Instead, he removed his phone.
He unlocked it.
Turned the screen toward me.
A photograph filled it.
My apartment building.
Friday night.
The black Mercedes parked across the road.
My skin prickled.
He swiped.
Another photograph.
Me leaving my apartment yesterday morning.
Another.
Me buying groceries.
Another.
Me standing on my balcony.
Taken from somewhere across the street.
I couldn’t breathe.
“Where did you get these?”
“They were delivered to me.”
“By who?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why would someone send photographs of me to you?”
“That is one of the questions I intend to answer.”
I stared at the screen.
The final photograph appeared.
My front door.
Close enough that whoever had taken it had been standing in the hallway outside my apartment.
There was something taped to the door.
A small white card.
I enlarged the image.
Two words.
FOUND YOU.
My knees nearly gave way.
Sebastian caught my arm.
I ripped away from him.
“Don’t touch me.”
His jaw tightened.
“I’m not your enemy.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“No.”
He slipped his phone back into his pocket.
“I expect you to survive long enough to decide for yourself.”
I stared at him.
Six years.
Six years of fake documents.
Fake history.
Fake memories.
Six years without saying my mother’s name aloud.
Without visiting my father’s grave.
Without letting anyone close enough to realise Mara Lane hadn’t existed before twenty-two.
And Sebastian Blackwell had just destroyed all of it in less than ten minutes.
My gaze returned to the funeral photograph.
Something bothered me.
I stepped closer.
Sebastian watched silently.
I picked up the picture.
Rain.
Coffin.
Flowers.
My family.
Sebastian.
I turned it over.
There was handwriting on the back.
Black ink.
Fresh.
One sentence.
She should have stayed dead.
My fingers released the photograph.
It fell onto the desk.
“What do you want from me?”
Sebastian’s gaze lowered to the photograph before returning to my face.
“Right now?”
“Yes.”
“I want you to stop pretending.”
My chest tightened.
“I’m not pretending anything.”
“You’ve been pretending for six years.”
I moved toward the door again.
He didn’t stop me.
That frightened me more.
My fingers closed around the handle.
Then Sebastian spoke.
Quietly.
Almost gently.
“Go home if you want.”
I looked over my shoulder.
“But before you do, you should know that whoever took those photographs knows Mara Lane is a lie.”
The room felt colder.
“And you?”
His gaze met mine.
For the first time since I entered, I saw something beneath the control.
Recognition.
Something darker.
Something personal.
Sebastian reached down, picked up the photograph of my funeral, and tapped one finger against the coffin.
“So,” he said softly, “should I call you Mara…”
My heart stopped.
“…or Elena?”
My real name sounded like a gunshot.
I couldn’t move.
Couldn’t speak.
Nobody had called me Elena Caruso in six years.
Nobody living was supposed to know where Elena Caruso had gone.
Sebastian leaned against the edge of his desk, his eyes never leaving mine.
Then he delivered the words that shattered what remained of my carefully constructed life.
“Personally, I think the name engraved on your tombstone suits you better.”
Last Chapters
#27 Chapter 27 The Missing Page
Last Updated: 8/16/2026#26 Chapter 26 The First Dance
Last Updated: 8/16/2026#25 Chapter 25 Blood in the Ballroom
Last Updated: 8/16/2026#24 Chapter 24 Luca's Confession
Last Updated: 8/15/2026#23 Chapter 23 The Blackwell Crypt
Last Updated: 8/15/2026#22 Chapter 22 A Father's Shadow
Last Updated: 8/15/2026#21 Chapter 21 A Dead Man's Orders
Last Updated: 8/15/2026#20 Chapter 20 The Man Behind The Glass
Last Updated: 8/15/2026#19 Chapter 19 The Ledger Code
Last Updated: 8/15/2026#18 Chapter 18 What We Started
Last Updated: 8/15/2026
You Might Like 😍
Survival Island
Zane, a powerful vampire and the island's owner, has spent centuries unable to feel desire for any woman. But when he notices Zara's intelligence, resilience, and determination to survive, she awakens something in him that no one ever has. For the first time in his vampire life, he is interested in a female, and his member is also starting to come to life. Who is this woman and why does he suddenly crave her and not just for her blood?
The mafia princess return
A PRINCESS IN DISGUISE; BOUND TO THE ENEMY KING
I fell to my knees, the cold marble digging into my skin. I had studied for years in the flickering candlelight, memorizing every herb and poison to pass the healer's exam. I wanted freedom. I wanted to save my mother from the servant's quarters. I placed second. I thought I had won my life back.
But the King didn't give me a badge of honor. He gave me a death sentence.
"Raven Thorne shall be wed to the King of Grok," he announced, his voice echoing in the silent hall. Princess Ellie, the woman who had tormented me for years, slapped her hands over her mouth to hide her cruel laughter. She was supposed to marry the Beast. Now, I was the lamb being sent to the slaughter in her place.
They say King Liam drinks the blood of his enemies. They say he is more monster than man. And now, I have to walk into his bedroom, wearing the Princess's silk gown, and pray he doesn't tear me apart.
I looked at the King, tears streaming down my face. "I'll do it," I whispered, my voice trembling. "But my mother must be safe."
I sold my body and soul to a monster to save her. But when the carriage door opened and I finally looked into the Beast's golden eyes, I realized the terrifying truth...
He wasn't a stranger. He was the man I met in the woods.
From Substitute To Queen
Heartbroken, Sable discovered Darrell having sex with his ex in their bed, while secretly transferring hundreds of thousands to support that woman.
Even worse was overhearing Darrell laugh to his friends: "She's useful—obedient, doesn't cause trouble, handles housework, and I can fuck her whenever I need relief. She's basically a live-in maid with benefits." He made crude thrusting gestures, sending his friends into laughter.
In despair, Sable left, reclaimed her true identity, and married her childhood neighbor—Lycan King Caelan, nine years her senior and her fated mate. Now Darrell desperately tries to win her back. How will her revenge unfold?
From substitute to queen—her revenge has just begun!
The Dark Witch & The Alpha Book 2
The vampire queen (Ambrosia) and Pythia will become close and discover the true origins of their pasts. They rely on each other when their mates are not around. New family is discovered and it is time they all come together to face one of the toughest moments in the dark witches history.
Accidentally Crossing the Tycoon
Four years ago, the Bailey family faced a devastating financial crisis.
Just when bankruptcy seemed inevitable, a mysterious benefactor emerged, offering salvation with one condition: a contract marriage.
Rumors swirled about this enigmatic man—whispers claimed he was hideously ugly and too ashamed to show his face, possibly harboring dark, twisted obsessions.
Without hesitation, the Baileys sacrificed me to protect their precious biological daughter, forcing me to take her place as a pawn in this cold, calculated arrangement.
Luckily, in those four years, the mysterious husband never asked to meet in person.
Now, in the final year of our arrangement, the husband I've never met is demanding we meet face to face.
But disaster struck the night before my return—drunk and disoriented, I stumbled into the wrong hotel room and ended up sleeping with the legendary financial mogul, Caspar Thornton.
What the hell am I supposed to do now?
Mated to Her Alpha Instructor
Weeks later, our new Alpha combat instructor walks in. Regis. The guy from the woods. His eyes lock on mine, and I know he recognizes me. Then the secret I've been hiding hits me like a punch: I'm pregnant.
He has an offer that binds us tighter than ever. Protection… or a cage? Whispers turn ugly, darkness closes in. Why am I the one without a wolf? Is he my salvation… or will he drag me to ruin?
The Alpha King's Human Mate
“I have waited nine years for you. That’s nearly a decade since I’ve felt this emptiness inside me. Part of me began to wonder if you didn’t exist or you’d already died. And then I found you, right inside my own home.”
He used one of his hands to stroke my cheek and tingles erupted everywhere.
“I’ve spent enough time without you and I will not let anything else keep us apart. Not other wolves, not my drunken father who’s barely holding himself together the past twenty years, not your family – and not even you.”
Clark Bellevue has spent her entire life as the only human in the wolf pack - literally. Eighteen years ago, Clark was the accidental result of a brief affair between one of the most powerful Alphas in the world and a human woman. Despite living with her father and her werewolf half-siblings, Clark has never felt like she really belonged in the werewolf world. But right as Clark plans to leave the werewolf world behind for good, her life gets flipped upside down by her mate: the next Alpha King, Griffin Bardot. Griffin has been waiting years for the chance to meet his mate, and he's not about to let her go anytime soon. It doesn't matter how far Clark tries to run from her destiny or her mate - Griffin intends to keep her, no matter what he has to do or who stands in his way.
Twin Prince Alphas Student Mate
As her 18th birthday approaches, her brothers warn her about the powerful pull she might feel toward dominant wolves. But it's not just any wolves they need to worry about—it's her teachers. Cameron and Samuel are more than just older, wiser, and off-limits; they might just be her fated mates.
While navigating complex relationships, academic pressures, and the normal trials of young adult life, an unexpected threat jeopardizes the academy. Explosions rock their world, forcing Lyla and her love interests into a chaotic swirl of heroism, heartbreak, and hard choices.
Will Lyla follow her heart and let destiny lead the way, or will the very rules that bind their world tear them apart? Amidst turmoil and taboo, Lyla must make choices that could forever change the course of her life and the lives of those she holds dear.
Discover a story where love isn't just complicated—it's forbidden, ageless, and defies all rules. In a world of supernatural beings and extraordinary stakes, will Lyla's love life be another casualty, or her saving grace?
A Queen Among Darkness (Book 4 in the Gods' Saga)
For centuries, she has been on the run, helping the supernatural community under the cloak of anonymity while she works to clear her name and save the very people after her from destruction.
Enemies are closing in, but an unexpected complication befalls her when she realises she’s been fated to someone who wants her species exterminated. After all, an evil chance seldom comes alone.
A Queen Among Darkness is the 4th book in the Queen Among Series/The Gods' Saga. This is an interconnected series. To see how it ends, I recommend reading the full series.
Books in the series in order:
A Queen Among Alphas - Book 1
Bite-Size Luna - A Queen Among Alphas Prequel (available under book 1)
A Queen Among Snakes - Book 2
A Queen Among Blood - Book 3
A Queen Among Darkness - Book 4
Whole Again - A Queen Among Alpha's spin-off (available under book 1)
A Queen Among Tides - Book 5
Valor, Virtue, and Verve - Tides Prequel Spin-off (will be available under book 5)
A Queen Among Gods - Book 6
Runaway Empress - A Queen Among Snakes Prequel (will be available under book 2)
A Queen Among Tempests - Book 7
Dark Vocation - Darkness spin-off (will be available under book 4)
A Court of Arcane Souls Anthology (side character short stories exclusive to Ream)
Royal Shadow Series (Next Generation Coming Soon)
Reborn: My Biased Brothers Beg Me To Come Back
She genuinely took in Regina, the butler's daughter, only to be constantly manipulated by this cunning and manipulative woman.
Regina gradually stole the love from her three brothers.
Arabella was forced to give Regina blood transfusions time and again, her weight plummeting to a mere eighty-eight pounds.
Ultimately, under the relentless pressure from her brothers, she jumped out of a window in despair and died. Her last words were,
"What about Regina's blood transfusions?"
When she opened her eyes again, Arabella found herself reborn three years earlier—the very day Regina appeared at her doorstep crying, begging for help.
Looking at the pitiful, tearful girl before her, Arabella smiled.
No more soft-heartedness.
No more groveling.
Instead, she "kindly" arranged for Regina to move into the servants' quarters, to earn her own living through honest labor.
Faced with her brothers who sided with her, she no longer bothered to please them.
And towards her former fiancé, Theodore, whom she had once fawned over, she remained cold, distant, and indifferent.
Moreover, in this life, they would discover that her identity was far more than just the eldest daughter of the Oberon family.
Where The Ice Gives Way
Blake Atlas scents his mate the moment Charlotte arrives. The bond hits hard and unmistakable, but Charlotte doesn’t recognise it. She doesn’t know why her chest keeps pulling toward the one boy she absolutely cannot afford to want. Blake is Charlie’s new hockey captain. Charlie’s chance at making something good. Charlie makes it clear; his sister is off-limits and Blake tries to do the right thing, but secrets don’t stay buried forever. Rogues prowl the edges of town. The ice cracks. The bond tightens. Then Charlotte’s rare white wolf awakens, the very thing that makes her powerful, also makes her a target.
Shanti needs Shakti. (Peace needs strength.)
Where the Ice Gives Way is a slow-burn YA paranormal romance filled with fated mates, protective alpha energy, fierce sibling loyalty, found family pack bonds, hurt/comfort, and quiet, aching tension. It’s a story about first belonging, learning to be cared for, and what happens when the girl who has always held everyone else up finally falls, and someone catches her.













