8251 Book(s) Related to bound by the moon s betrayal

Clara Vale lost her award, her career, and her dignity on the same red carpet.

The world thought she ran to hide.

They were wrong.

She ran to the only place that had ever made her feel clean: a mountain town above the snowline, where a quiet rescue captain named Elias Roan had lived in her secret account, her unfinished letters, and her heart for three years.

But shame follows fast. So does the man who ruined her.

And when Clara's past climbs the mountain to destroy her one last time, Elias may be the only person willing to stand between her and the crowd.

For three years, Mara Ellis raised twins for a dead man.

Then the comments appeared in the air.

They said Caleb Ward was alive.

They said he was about to marry another woman.

They said Mara was only the abandoned side character who would show up too late.

Mara folded one more tiny shirt, looked at her sleeping children, and decided the story had never met a mother with overdue bills.

I and my twin elf sister married at the same day.
She was to marry the the Light Falcon Lord of the Holy Light Kingdom, and I the vicious Lord of the Black Scale Wyrms.
All elves envied her fortunate match.
But on our wedding night, the Falcon Lord left to fight a battle, and sacrificed himself for the realms.
The Serpent Lord later ascended to godhood, his glory outshining the Holy Light Kingdom.
Left widowed in the light court, my sister betrayed her vows with a knight.
The King stripped her elven power and banished her to the cell.
When I visited her, she tricked me into drinking corrosive spring water, erasing my soul entirely.
But I woke to find we had both reborn on the day our betrothals were declared.
This time, my sister fought hard to marry the Lord of Black Scale Wyrms.
I smiled quietly.
How could she cast aside a blessed life revered by all realms for a hollow dark divinity?

After the catastrophic war between the four great races ended in ceasefire, the Supernatural Council established an ironclad law—the Pact of Heirs.
Every hundred years, a Mating Season would open, where eligible heirs would compete to determine who would rule the world for the next century.
In my previous life, I chose to marry the wolf prince Darius, desperate to escape my status as a black-feathered orphan in the eagle clan.
The wolf clan's rule was brutally simple: whoever bore the first child carrying the matrilineal eagle-eye bloodline would claim dominion over all. I gave Darius that child. My son secured his throne and granted him absolute power.
My sister Cecily—the chieftain's true daughter—had set her sights on the vampire heir, drawn by their ancient nobility and dark allure. She married into their clan willingly.
But vampire bonds were cold as death itself. Her human-adjacent body couldn't sustain their offspring. She lost her fertility and became a cautionary tale whispered at every gathering.
Twisted by jealousy and shame, she decided I was to blame for her failures. She drugged my wine at a feast, then hurled me off Storm Cliff while I was too weak to spread my wings.
As I plummeted toward the rocks, someone tried to catch me—Kade, the exiled wingless dragon, his dark-scaled hand reaching desperately from a ledge.
But above us, Cecily stood at the cliff's edge, smiling as she cut through the safety rope he'd thrown. I hit the stones and everything went black.
When I opened my eyes again, I could still feel the phantom warmth of Kade's hand and the venom in Cecily's smile.
But somehow, impossibly, I was back—returned to the very day the Mating Season began.
Through the one-way scrying glass at the Observation Altar, I looked down at the moonlit sacrificial platform below. Cecily was already there. And she wasn't alone.
She'd been reborn too. I was certain of it.
But she didn't know what I knew—that Darius was a monster to his lovers.
During the full moon, when the wolf took over completely, he'd killed more than one partner in his bed.

In my previous life, on the night of our wedding anniversary, my husband Bryan brought his pregnant mistress, Victoria, into our home. Driven to the edge, I slashed my wrists to force him to kick her out.
No one could have predicted her blood sugar would suddenly crash in the freezing storm outside. She collapsed into a flooded ditch and froze to death before anyone found her.
Everyone ruled it a tragic accident, but Bryan decided her blood was on my hands.
Months later, when I went into labor, he abused his position as my doctor to deliberately delay my care. He left me to writhe through dozens of hours of agonizing contractions and severe hemorrhaging until I bled out.
When, with hands slick with my own blood, I begged him to save our baby, he calmly peeled off his soiled surgical gloves. The look in his eyes was merciless.
"Heartbroken?" he sneered. "Good. Take the brat down to hell with you to keep Victoria company."
An icy, suffocating darkness swallowed me whole.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the exact night of our anniversary—the very moment Bryan, bringing the freezing rain in with him, protectively guided Victoria through my front door.

"You drive me crazy, Lilith. Just one night... I’ll give you whatever you want. Please let me taste you," my billionaire CEO whimpered, pinning me against the wall, his hot breath brushing my ear.

He is obsessed with my new face, my body, and my ruthless attitude. He is willing to abandon everything just to get into my bed.

If only he knew that the flawless skin he’s kissing right now used to be covered in the acid his mistress poured on me.
If only he knew that I am his dead, naive wife—the one he threw into an ice cellar to die along with our unborn child, just to steal my family's inheritance.

"Anything I want?" I trace his jawline, smiling sweetly as my nail digs into his skin. "Then give me your empire, William. And your life."

I rose from the ashes with a new face and a hidden will. He wants to ruin my lipstick, but I came back to ruin his life.

My mother stared at my body, fused to the sofa, and waited forty minutes before calling 911.
She cheerfully told my father the news, deciding they should celebrate with a nice dinner.
Of course.
After all, they could finally be rid of the burden I’d become—no more tormenting me, no more keeping me locked away.
They could go back to being the respectable parents everyone thought they were.
But—
Someone was bound to see the truth.

My fiancé, Liam Miller, slapped me more than a dozen times in front of everyone over his childhood sweetheart.
Then he shoved me down a spiral staircase.
Both my legs were shattered. My skull cracked open. I spent an entire month in the ICU.
He never came to see me.
Not once.
He was too busy staying by Sophia’s side, planning her birthday party, and getting down on one knee in front of everyone to propose to her.
As for me, I couldn’t even get through the doors of his headquarters anymore. My access had been revoked. My position had been taken. Every trace of my place in his world had been erased.
Nine years.
From nineteen to twenty-eight, I gave him the best years of my life.
In the end, I had given them to the wrong man.
On the day I was discharged, I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream. I didn’t cling to him and beg for answers.
I simply called my mother.
“Mom,” I said calmly, “that overseas mafia empire you wanted me to inherit? I’m ready to take it.”
There was a brief silence on the other end.
Then my mother said, “I’ve waited ten years for this day.”
The night before my flight, Liam’s messages flooded my phone.
“Emma, I was wrong. Don’t go.”
What do you think?
Would I ever look back?

For eighteen months, I loved Asher in secret, betting all my pride and heart on our hidden affair. He took my tenderness while prioritizing his rich fiancée, mocking my love and sacrificing my future for his family’s marriage deal. Shamed online, shunned at school and tormented, I made no fuss. I repaid every dollar he gave me, cut all ties, transferred schools and rebuilt myself. He broke off his engagement, lost his pride and begged me to come back—yet all I offered was a final goodbye.

Ice slammed through my veins.
My throat locked up, crushed by an invisible fist. My body convulsed violently, mouth gaping open and shut, but no air came.
Through blurring vision, I saw my polished stepbrother Damien standing there, watching his watch—counting down the seconds I had left.
And Sophie—that scholarship kid who used to sob over dead ants—stood holding the empty syringe, her smile twisted and ugly. "Don't worry, Charlotte. I'll take real good care of your Ivy spot and your boyfriend."
The darkness swallowed me whole.

47 deaths.
48 iterations.
He sold his brother a death trap and called it a farm.
When the dead rose, the experiment began—and the only way out was through.

"If I didn't have to bring you home, Chloe wouldn't have died. Eve... I regret everything."

Those were my fiancé Lucas's final words as we lay dying beneath the crushed concrete.

I blinked, and suddenly my lungs were full of air.

I had returned to the exact day my billionaire biological family came to claim me.

I stared at their forced, plastic smiles.
I watched the imposter daughter eyeing me like a threat.
Without a second thought, I ripped the paternity test in half.

I didn't want their money.
Instead, I walked away and joined the FBI's deadliest bomb squad.

If I was your biggest regret, fine.
This time around, I'll make sure I'm completely erased from your world.

But when a blast finally reduced me to ash in a blinding flash of fire...

The very family who once treated me like dirt tore through the police tape.
They were clawing desperately at the blazing ruins with bare, bleeding hands.
Screaming my name, begging my ashes to come back to life.

I met my future husband from thirty years later in a late-night diner. He knows every hidden habit and secret of mine. Mistaking the star quarterback for my destined love, I endured endless ambiguity and humiliation from him and his stepsister. But when he abandoned me in front of the whole school, I finally learned the truth — the man meant to love me for a lifetime was never him.

"$500,000 for her virginity."

That was the winning bid my fiancé just placed. The item? His female best friend.

"Don't be so petty, Sylvie," he laughed, pulling her close in front of the whole gala. "I'm just saving her from some old creep. We’re basically bros."

She giggled against his chest. "Yeah, don't be a buzzkill, honey."

I didn't scream. I didn't cry. I simply smiled and raised my glass. "I won't."

I let him think he got away with it. Over the next month, I secretly sold our marital home and took a one-way flight to Paris.

Everett didn't realize I was gone until our wedding day, standing alone at the altar, watching the video I sent him.

Oak Creek thinks my brother, Cole, is a saint. He saved the family legacy and adopted the orphaned daughter of a killer out of the goodness of his heart.
What they don’t know is the price of his halo: Me.
To keep his 'good guy' image, he sacrificed his real sister. He gave her my bed, my home, and my parents.
When I was driven out of town, sleeping in a vandalized trailer, he left me a note: Come home and apologize.
I did come back. But not to apologize.
I'm holding the microphone at the town's biggest festival, looking down at the two thousand people who threw trash at me.
I have a stack of receipts, an unedited tape, and the truth about how my parents really died.
Are you ready to meet the real Hale family?

My husband's body moved over Celeste's, driving into her with brutal force.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, moaning like she did for her three million followers—except this performance was just for him.
I was her assistant. Her best friend, supposedly. Which is how I knew her passcode.
Now I was wedged in the back of her bedroom closet, phone aimed through the gap in the slats, ready to catch the bastard in the act.
Then Celeste's moans ripped into a scream. The mattress lurched violently. Blood poured down the sheets in thick rivers.
Her head hit the floor. Rolled. Stopped right in front of the closet.
Those wide eyes met mine through the darkness.

The day after Lucian was titled Duke, he locked down the estate to find the woman who climbed into his bed.
In my first life, I claimed the honor. He grabbed my hand and sneered, "That woman has a scar."
I froze to death in the ice cellar.
In my second life, Martha slashed her own hand and stepped forward. He ripped her collar open. "She has a cross tattoo on her chest. Do you?"
His hounds tore her throat out in the snow.
Now we're in our third life. The Duke just issued a three-day ultimatum, dead certain that the woman is hiding in the Duchess's wing.
Martha and I stared at each other. We're the only two maids serving the Duchess.

Five years ago, on our wedding day, my fiancée Vivian was in the bridal suite fucking my best man.
Five years later, I returned to New York with my wife—the most powerful Mafia matriarch in Naples. At Atelier Milano, Brandon, the same "best man" who betrayed me, fawned over my custom-tailored suit, groveling to the staff about how desperately he wanted to meet the legendary Mr. Salvatore.
He had no idea...
The man he'd once written off as a pathetic loser was the very person he was now begging to impress.

In this house, there was an unspoken rule: every time my adopted sister, Sloane, fed her gambling addiction at the casino, I was the one who had to take the punishment.

When Sloane racked up five thousand dollars in gambling debt, I was locked inside a sub-zero freezer overnight.

When Sloane stole and sold the family jewelry, my parents pinned my shoulders down while my husband ruined my face with a red-hot branding iron.

They claimed that only by seeing me suffer would Sloane feel guilty enough to finally quit gambling.

Until, in a desperate attempt to teach Sloane one final lesson, they hired someone to stage a fake mobster debt collection.

What they didn't know was that the prop gun bought off the black market was loaded with a real bullet.

And as the bullet ripped through my heart, my husband simply kicked my twitching body, laughing as he complimented how realistic my blood pack looked.

Warm blood clogged my windpipe. I lay paralyzed on the floor, my consciousness fading away.

This time, the chip wagered on Sloane's behalf was my life.

I married a rapist.
After the wedding, I played the perfect wife. I always took off my makeup after he fell asleep, and reapplied it before he woke up.
My husband loved showing off on his livestream, bragging that women should know their place.
One viewer sent a warning in the chat:
[Run, man. Only vengeful spirits do their makeup in the middle of the night—when their resentment is strongest, the makeup lasts longer!]
I covered my face and grinned wickedly.
Oops, forgot concealer. My corpse marks are showing.

I ripped out half my heart for him.

Literally.

Six years ago, Draco—the Black Dragon Lord—was dying on the battlefield, enemy claws buried in his chest. So I tore myself open and shoved half my witch's heart into his body to save his life.

After that, I lived with constant pain, my magic drained to nothing. I fought his wars, nearly died a dozen times, all while waiting for him to keep his promise—that he'd make me his queen after the coronation.

But on coronation day, Draco brought back the half-elf Ivy and told me to give up my crown.

Why? Ivy stayed with him in the Abyss for three years. And now she was pregnant with his child.

It destroyed me. So I drank the Oblivion Potion—the one thing that could strip away every ounce of love I had for him.

And in three days, I'm leaving for the polar regions to marry into the Silver Wolf Clan.

The adoptive brother I'd been secretly in love with for a decade took my virginity on the night of my twentieth birthday, fueled by alcohol.

I thought I had finally found love.

Until I stood outside his half-open apartment door and heard his teammates mocking me.

"Damn, Dax, you actually slept with Elara? That boring good girl?"

My hand froze mid-air above the doorknob.

Dax's tone was dripping with contempt. "Look closely at her face. It's exactly like Cassandra's, isn't it?"

"It's no big deal. She revolves around me every single day. All it took was crooking a finger."

"With Cassandra gone, she's the perfect stand-in to kill time."

The room instantly erupted into a fit of unbridled, mocking laughter.

I dug my nails fiercely into my palms, opened my phone, and found the email I had deliberately ignored for a month.

[Florence Academy of Fine Arts — Exchange Program Confirmation]

My parents ruined my wedding six times.

Every single time, right at the moment the ring was about to slip onto my finger—the first time, Mom knocked over the champagne tower. The second time, Dad drove his pickup truck straight through the floral arch... Either the groom wasn't good enough, or the wedding was too cheap. Each time was more batshit crazy than the last. The sixth time, Mom even held a knife to her own throat, threatening me not to put on the ring.

It made no sense to me—why push me to get married while doing everything to stop me from wearing that ring?

So for the seventh wedding, I chose a small chapel in a remote mountain area, went completely off-grid, dead certain they'd never track me down.

Just as Ethan was about to slide the ring onto my finger—

The chapel doors burst open.

Two figures stumbled in, gasping for air, faces streaked with tears.

My parents.

On our seventh anniversary, Jeffrey brought his mistress home for dinner.

Calla wore my dead mother's necklace and called me a "boring housewife" while I cooked for them. Jeffrey laughed, saying I was lucky he kept me around since I'd never contributed anything to our marriage.

What he didn't know? I'd given up my six-figure tech career to nurse him back from his car accident. Sacrificed everything while he treated me like his personal servant.

For seven years, I endured his cheating and cruelty, thinking love meant sacrifice.

I was wrong.

When I left him the divorce papers, Jeffrey screamed that I'd come crawling back within a week.

But when I never came back, he was the one who lost his mind.

In my last life, Natalie insisted on stepping out of the car to feed a wild grizzly.

I tried to stop her. Daniel shoved me into the bear's path instead — to save her.

The grizzly's teeth tore through my throat. My blood sprayed hot across the snow.

And there was Daniel, my boyfriend of three years, holding Natalie close. Not a scratch on her.

He even raised his phone to film me being ripped apart, then posted it on TikTok with the caption: "She gave her life to protect us." The donations poured in for weeks.

Now my eyes are open again. Natalie's pushing the car door open, sandwich in hand, ready to hand-feed the cubs.

This time, I don't scream. I don't stop her.

I just watch her lean halfway out the door — and lock it behind her.

My husband locked our fouryearold son in a 20°C wine cellar for his mistress. Our boy froze to death.
Lawyers silenced me. I was cast aside.
Three years later, I returned.
At a glittering New York gala, I tore apart every lie Liam and Mia had built. Liam begged for my forgiveness—but I had a solid anchor by my side, and I would never forgive him.

At my seventh wedding, they replaced me.

The Oracle pointed at me and screamed one word: "CURSED."

Father's hand cracked across my face. Mother tore the wedding dress off my body and shoved my cousin Seraphine into it.

"She'll marry him instead," Father said. "You'll destroy us all."

What they didn't know? A thousand years ago, our family made a blood pact with the Shadow Lord himself: if the eldest Ashford daughter remained unmarried on her twenty-sixth birthday, she belonged to HIM.

Today was my twenty-sixth birthday.

I begged Julian to run. "Please. We have until sunset."

He laughed. "The Shadow Lord's a fairy tale, Anna. Seraphine's just going through the motions. You're being dramatic."

Then he told my parents everything.

They locked me in the tower.

But the Shadow High Priest's warning was clear—at sunset, the Shadow Lord would come. And when he did, I'd drink the Potion of Forgetting and lose everything.

My memories. My name. My soul.

The clock struck five.

He was coming.

My fiancé was going to humiliate me at our own wedding.

I know because I heard him think it.

I'm Isabella Rossi — mafia heiress, future bride to Lorenzo Falcone, the golden boy of New York's underworld. Our marriage was supposed to unite two empires.

I also have a secret. I can read minds. But only when people want to use me, hurt me, or destroy me.

Lorenzo's thoughts had been silent for three years. I thought that meant he loved me.

The night before the wedding, I finally heard him. The mistress he'd planted in the crowd. The fake pregnancy reveal. The plan to humiliate me at the altar so he could play the victim — and steal my family's power in the chaos.

Landon Rhodes and I grew up together, both dreaming of becoming top chefs. But I knew he was the one with a palate kissed by God.

So when Rowan Stone, this street-rat punk, got her claws into him, I took the drinks, the smoke, the slaps for him. When he wanted to skip the National Young Chefs Competition to stay with her drunk ass, I dragged him back to the culinary lab.

He won the championship, got recruited by a three-star Michelin restaurant, graduated and made millions. I became the most invisible prep cook in his kitchen.

Until Rowan wrapped her car around a pole during one of her episodes, and he lured me into a basement.

"This is all your fault! If you'd minded your own damn business, she'd still be alive!"

His foot came down on my right hand. Bones cracking. My fingers ground to pulp.

All those 5 AM trips to the fish market for him. All those nights watching stock simmer for forty-eight hours straight. All the praise he soaked up at final practicals. My sacrifices, and all I got in return was his hatred.

"These worthless hands that can only cut vegetables deserve to rot in the ground with her."

The pain swallowed me whole.

When I wake up again, I'm back to that afternoon when he said he was going to the bar to find her.

This time, I won't stop him.

At seven years old, he pulled me from the rapids—and for the eleven years that followed, I loved this man I called "Uncle."

Then Sophia appeared. She accused me of pushing her down the stairs, and Michael didn't spare me so much as a glance before throwing me out into the storm. I knocked until my hands were raw and bleeding. He never opened the door.

Three years later, he showed up at my workplace, demanding I "come home" with him. His pregnant girlfriend flaunted a twelve-week ultrasound, cooing about how the baby already "looked just like him"—then staged yet another fall, told yet another lie, let out yet another shriek, casting me once more as the heartless monster.

But this time, I won't beg.

This time, I know secrets they don't.

Because that miscarriage three years ago? That baby? That ultrasound?

None of it was real.

The question is—how much has Michael already lost, and can he see the truth before the one person who ever truly loved him is gone for good?

That was supposed to be one of the most anticipated days of my life—the wedding of my best friend, Sarah.
But when I put on my bridesmaid dress, she called me a bitch.
"Get out." Sarah looked at me like I was trash.
"I don't want to see you at my wedding."
I stood frozen in place, staring down at the broken Cartier bracelet she had given me, now lying scattered on the floor.

I was a scholarship student with thirty extra pounds. Del Ashford had two hundred thousand followers and her family's supplement brand on every wall of the athletic center. First week of school, she decided we were going to be best friends.
She said she wanted to help me get in shape. What that actually looked like: I carried her product shipments up three flights of stairs, drafted her emails, and picked up her lunch from the place across campus that didn't deliver.
My roommates started calling me her errand girl behind my back. I let them.
She also introduced me to Beckett Hale. After that, things went the way they went.
She knocked my protein shake over and said I'd burned her. She planted her limited-edition earphones in my bag and told everyone I'd stolen them. The school opened a conduct review. My roommates stopped talking to me.

Beckett said I was the kind of girl who got a little attention and started thinking she deserved more of it.
I couldn't prove any of it. By spring, I was gone.
Some people just aren't built for this, Wren. You know that, right?
Del hadn't even been looking at me when she said it.
Then I opened my eyes and I was back at the party. The night she introduced me to Beckett.

I was once “The BOSS’ wife” of the Moscato family of the Paris Mafia, the one everyone addressed with fear as Donna. Until that night, when iron lamps roared in the warehouse and scalding oil rolled—my own younger brother was hung over a vat of boiling oil, and my husband, the cold-faced Don Lydon, pushed me into hell with one sentence: “Have you learned your lesson?”
More absurd still, the two sons I had raised with my own hands stood by, helping his first love, Agnes, testify against me. In that instant I understood: my marriage, my family affection, my kindness—they had stomped all of it into the oil and fried it to shreds.
I was suppressed when I called the police, refused when I begged for a doctor, mocked when I sought a divorce—yet I still slapped the divorce certificate down on his coffee table: I’m leaving. I don’t want any of you.

For seven years, I was the Luna who stood by my Alpha. Until the night I discovered he had bonded with another.
On a full moon, I slipped into the Silver Moon Pack’s camp, hoping to surprise my beloved Ethan. Instead, I stumbled upon his bonding ceremony with Beta Olivia.
Hidden in the shadows, I heard his voice: “If I don’t marry her, she’ll be forced to the old Alpha. I want to protect her. As for my fated mate—she’s been with me seven years. She won’t ever leave.”
So that’s all I was to him. Not love—just a habit.
After that, he missed promise after promise. Even the dagger he once swore on for me was carved with Olivia’s name.
That night I let go. I agreed to become the Frost Moon Pack’s Luna, to bond with Lucas.
When the ceremony began, Ethan stormed in, bloodied and desperate, begging me not to leave him. But I only said, “Your love never reached me. I am already Lucas’s Luna.”

The day I died, my sister wore the wedding dress I had always dreamed of, and married my boyfriend.
My family felt no sorrow over my disappearance.
My brother suspected I deliberately avoided blessing my sister.
My silent father believed I was malicious, unwilling to see my sister surpass me.
My mother called me ungrateful and demanded I apologize to my sister.
They didn't care if I was alive.
They were only worried that my absence would sadden my sister by denying her my blessing.

In my past life, I died in a freezing, damp basement.
The person who destroyed me was Evelina, the daughter of my father’s mistress. She set a trap at a charity gala, dragged my reputation through the mud, and forced me into a hellish marriage—all so she could strip away everything that rightfully belonged to me.
When I opened my eyes again, I was twenty-two. The gala that sealed my fate was happening tonight.
Before the banquet officially began, I seamlessly swapped two champagne flutes, handing her meticulously woven trap right back to her. When the scandal detonated, sending shockwaves through the ballroom, my eyes landed on Killian—the Vance family's notoriously cold-blooded illegitimate son.
The trust fund my mother left me was still firmly under my control. I walked straight up to him and laid my chips on the table.
My enemies had retreated to the shadows, waiting to strike back. But I was going to use their own conspiracies as stepping stones, clawing back everything I owned, one piece at a time.

I have everything in my life all figured out. My job in a Manhattan empire is perfect, allowing me to maintain a quiet and organized existence. After a childhood filled with painful memories, abuse, and a useless mother, this sense of security is a necessity for me. But along with it comes a problem that could disrupt everything I thought I needed.

My promotion places me in close proximity to Jacob Carrero, a young, incredibly attractive, and playboy billionaire with a notorious reputation. I now find myself stuck as his right-hand man, spending every waking moment with him. It doesn't take long for me to realize that he's exactly the type of person who could drive me crazy, and not in a good way. We're like chalk and cheese. He's impulsive, confident, laid-back, dominant, and enjoys casual sex and dating without much thought. I, on the other hand, am compulsive, reserved, and cautious.

Despite his carefree attitude, Jacob is the only one who can break through my composed exterior. He's not phased by my closed-off demeanor and cool manners. But as much as I may want to, letting him into my heart is another thing entirely. My painful past has made me wary of men, and I have no desire to let anyone get close enough to hurt me again.

However, Jacob Carrero is not someone who takes no for an answer. He wants to be more than just another person seeing my façade, who is learning how to break through my defenses.

What should I do?

"Do it! Rape me!" She screamed, from the top of her lungs, challenging the beast in him.

He laughed, genuinely, loudly.
"You have no idea what you're doing to me, right, kitten?" he asked, reaching for his belt.

"That little biting your lip thingy, you do, whenever you check me out- it's driving me crazy.

The shivers traveling over your body, when I spanked you- turned me on so bad, I had to restrain myself from pinning your body against the wall, and fucking you in the hall.

And now, your scent, it's literally inviting me. I could smell your arousal from miles away, the scent making my mouth water and beast go crazy.

And your body- holy Moon Goddess- that body of yours is divine. Without a doubt, I could praise and savour it day after day, and never get tired."

***Evangeline is a simple human girl, born and raised in shifter dominated town. One day she is captured by a group of shifters and almost get raped, but she is saved by a masked man.

Doubts about the stranger's identity and fear of shifter remain in her mind until the night of human mating games when she's captured by her savior. The man who never took off the mask, a powerful shifter-Eros.

***PLEASE NOTE: This is a complete series collection for The Unwanted Alpha Series by  K. K. Winter. This includes and . Seperate books from the series are available on the author page.

“What happened?” I ask hoarsely.
“Jane, you’ve had a shock.” The doctor said gently. “You fainted.”
A sense of foreboding slices straight through me.
The physician is smiling now. “You fainted because you’re pregnant.”
WHAT!! I just have been divorced for like one month!?


My husband never gives me pleasure. He hasn’t for years now. He seeks nothing but to claim me as roughly and thoroughly as he possibly can - and remind me of my proper place.
This is what I have to look forward to: a lifetime of pain… unless I finally do what I’ve been planning over the last few months, and ask Ethan for a divorce.I didn’t even know it was possible for an omega to leave an Alpha until recently. Legally, we have almost no rights, but I could request a divorce. Now it is the time.


Ethan and Jane were childhood sweethearts. However, he is alpha and she is omega. It was almost impossible for them to be fated mate. Ethan did not give up but chose Jane to be his wife and luna. But Fate sure knows how to run with a bit. This young couple messes up their first marriage by lack of trust. Divorce is easy. But what about finding out you were pregnant
after divorce?What if you had quadruplets?

After a one night stand, I opened my eyes and found a naked handsome man lying next to me. He was the last Lycan.

According to the rumors, the last Lycan went crazy every full moon. He could only be tamed by having sex with a virgin werewolf.

Every pack sent virgins to sacrifice to the last Lycan, and I was the chosen one.

Before he woke up, I escaped quietly.

But it's strange how my wolf became more powerful!

Could sex with a Lycan make me stronger?!

The Lycan was a wall of masculine muscle behind me. His body heat scorched me even through my wedding dress; his breath seared the shell of my ear as he leaned closer and whispered, "Mate..."

If the last Lycan was the Devil, I thought I might want to go to hell.

When I rescued the last Lycan from his cage, I never thought that one day, I would be put into a cage by him.

"I found my mate, Avy."
"How long have you been hiding her?"
"A month."
"A month? and you didn't even care to inform me!"
"I felt you wouldn't like my idea. I knew you would kick against it but I couldn't hide her any longer. She has nowhere to go or stay, so I have to protect her from any harm."

Avyanna Windsor is the Luna of Wales. when her husband brought his True mate Jessica to the pack house, she fought against it but nothing worked. In one year she was stripped of her title, rejected, abandoned by her husband, pack mates and Finally killed by Jessica after Jessica got pregnant with the alpha's baby.
Avyanna is given a second chance at life by the Moon goddess, after she loses her life, her kingdom. Avyanna Knew one thing that she had to change her fate and save the life of her dear ones and her own self of course.

Baron is a revered, and known-to-be ruthless king of the Lycans, who operates a pack of vigorous and almost indestructible creatures that reside within an impenetrable kingdom.

After hearing Avyanna’s request for a partnership, he obliges, and then begins a new story of Love, Hate, Passion, and Confusion, especially when he reveals to her a secret that plagues him.

"I'm sorry Avyanna I don't think I can let you go just like that."

"And why is that?"

"Because, Avyanna... You are my mate."

Being a lone wolf, Zezi decided to chose a mate for herself. She ended up with the Beta of her pack and they had a daughter. They were living happily until an Empire of Vampires who were believed to have been wiped out resurfaced and started attacking the werewolves massively.

Her Alpha, the King of all werewolves in Teeland, decided to fight them back but soon realized that the vampires couldn't be defeated. Left with no other choice, he decided to sign their King's Submission Deal.

Everything was going according to plan until, Zezi found herself sharing a reckless gaze with the Vampire King - The very King of Darkness.

His eyes are open, they are black. His wolf is out with him, there is lust in them. He looks straight at me.

He grabs me by the waist and slams his lips down hard on my mouth.

His tongue slips into my mouth without any trouble and is fucking my mouth with his tongue. He turns us, so we are heading towards something, he still slides his tongue in my mouth.

Fuck this feels so good.

I have wanted him since he came back home.

I am slammed against a tree, hard, he lifts me up by the waist. I wrap my legs around him. I am not wearing any underwear under this dress, I wanted to get fucked by him tonight and I am. He leaves my mouth and starts kissing down my neck, I can feel one hand going to my pussy, and he sticks his finger in. I am wet, he growls into me. He goes for his zipper, he pulls down his pants and boxers so they are on his thighs, and he keeps sucking and kissing my neck. I can feel his hard cock under me, he is really big and hard. He pulls back and lines his cock up with my soaking wet pussy. He rams himself hard.

Panther shifter Izzy has the power so rare that it magnifies with every emotion she has. However, she has been through so much in the last 10 years. She was abandoned by her werewolf father and had to deal with her mother’s death. Her auntie Kat then took her in and they had to move around a lot over the years after a tragic time. Now Kat wants Izzy to stay with her in the town that she left ten years ago. When she arrives, everything comes to light. Secrets and everything from the past comes at her all at once and she has to deal with her fated mate, the Alpha Blake.

“I'll give you one billion dollars, sign the papers and get out!" I left my home in disgrace, unaware that I was already pregnant. Six years later, I gave birth to quintuplets and became the most famous fitness trainer in town. Returning to my pack for work, I unexpectedly ran into my ex. He looked at the smaller versions of himself by my side, and shouted in anger, "How many of my kids did you steal?!”

-WARNING-This story may contain content that some may find disturbing.

“If you can’t satisfy me with your mouth, then you’ll have to satisfy me some other way.”

He ripped off her flimsy clothing and tossed the shredded fabric aside. Visenya panicked as she realized exactly what he was implying.

“Let me try again…with my mouth. I think I c...”

“Quiet!” His voice echoed off the walls of his bedchamber, silencing her on the spot.

This wasn’t the way she had imagined her first time would be. She pictured passionate kisses and gentle caresses from a man who loved and cherished her. Lucian wouldn’t be loving, and he certainly didn’t cherish her either. She had been cursed with a mate who was bent on revenge, wanting nothing more than to watch her suffer.


Ten years had passed since Dragons ruled over the world…since Visenya took her place as Lycan Queen. Vampires were forced into the shadows now that hunting and enslaving humans was punishable by death. The world was finally at peace…until Dragon Lord, Lucian woke from his induced sleep to discover that his entire race had been massacred by Visenya’s father. Visenya is stripped of her kingdom and forced to live out the rest of her days as Lucian’s slave. The cruelest joke of all is, Visenya learns that the mate she has been so faithfully waiting for all these years, is none other than the vengeful Dragon Lord himself.

Consumed by their hatred for each other, is it enough to fight the intense mate bond between them? Will Lucian push Visenya to her absolute limit, just to regret it all in the end?