9773 Book(s) Related to the alpha my sister threw away

"Where was the baby you had three years ago?" The question dropped like a bombshell to Liz's ear with his deep baritone voice that sends creep down her toes. That voice alone is enough to warn her that he needed nothing but the truth. A baby? What did he mean by a baby she had three years ago? She'd never had a baby in her lifetime.

All Liza ever thought of was sitting close to her laptop and penning down her imaginations into novels, but life turn around for when when she got kidnapped one day and was demanded for a baby she never knew existed.

​"Welcome to Blackwood Academy: Here, you’re either the hunter or the prey."
​For Elara Vance, the only way to survive this savage hierarchy was to remain invisible. The bitter potions she consumed for years didn’t just seal her cursed wolf—they marked her as a target, masking her true nature with the scent of "rot."
​But hiding became impossible the moment the school’s ruthless heir, Alpha Kael Draven, locked his eyes on her.
​To everyone else, her scent was repulsive. To Kael, it wasn’t disgust—it was a dark obsession waiting to be unraveled. He had caught the scent of the dangerous truth buried beneath Elara’s "rotten" mask: A Lie.
​As fate plays its cruelest hand, Elara is caught between two fires:
On one side, Asher, the school's Golden Boy and her fated mate, who rejected her in revulsion...
On the other, the obsessive Alpha Kael, who shadows her every move, whispering, "You are my disaster."
​With blackmail messages from an unknown number backing her into a corner, time is running out. When the potion fades and the silver-leafed ivy reveals the truth, Blackwood Academy will be shaken to its core.

“Let me go!” I screamed, thrashing. “You turned me! You hated me so much you couldn’t even let me have peace? You had to turn me into a vampire so you could torture me forever?!”

Dahlia was supposed to be dead. She was the commander of the human troops, fighting for her people in the war against vampires till she fell. She thought that was the end, now she wakes up in the bed of none other than the Vampire King.

Cassian couldn't let his mate die so instead he took her and turned her even though he knew she wouldn't be happy. He just wanted her to feel the mate bond as well, since she couldn't as a human.

Now as a vampire, Dahlia has to accept her new reality in a castle she can't escape from. She wants to hate Cassian but the bond keeps pulling her closer. With enemies closer than friends and a curse that could end Cassian looming over them, Dahlia has to decide if her loyalty lies with her mate or with the very forces that want him gone.

"Rule number five, don't ever question any of my actions! You are my property, and I choose the way I treat things that belong to me!" He scowled at me.
I bowed immediately. "Get up!" He ordered, and I managed to stand up.
He moved closer to me, his face looming in front of me, he bent down and bit my neck.
"Ahh!" I cried out, the pain was unbearable, it felt as though a hot knife had just passed between my soul.
After he was done, he licked it once again, and I could even smell his saliva, and the smell was…....
I took a step back, my eyes widened, and my face was covered in disbelief.
Who is this man? And how is he able to bite human flesh?* It suddenly dawned on me! This man might not be a human! What if he is a human eater? A demon? A beast? Oh no! It is true, he is the devil's son!

Nyksina Zharyn is just a healer’s daughter, but she harbors a dangerous secret: forbidden magic. Betrayed by the one she trusted most, branded a witch, and sentenced to death, her world collapses in flames.

Then, in the shadows of the abyss, she is pulled into the presence of Azmiel, the fabled Demon King of Ithyka. She frees him from his hundreds of years of slumber and accidentally binds herself to him. Tall, terrifying, and impossibly powerful, he offers her a choice: embrace certain death on the pyre, or step into the unknown under his gaze.

But surviving the Demon King may be only the beginning… for in his realm, every secret has a price, and every bond is a battle of power, trust, and desire.

Will Nyksina succumb to fate, or will she claim her own destiny?

"If your twin wasn't in your world, maybe she's inside our world," said Thiltran.

Adhara eyes widened. "Absolutely! That's what I am thinking! You can help me, right?"

Thiltran nodded in response. "In one condition."

"Anything! I can do everything you want!"

The wolf with emerald eyes grinned and said, "Use your body to satisfy me."

ADHARA has no choice but to grant the desire of the wolf who can help her find her twin. She became a slave for the wolf desire and use her body to satisfy the lust of Thiltran. If that is the only way to find her twin, she will do everything.

She wanted to take revenge on the lycans who killed her parents. She wanted to see her twin and reunite as one.

And yes, she agrees to howl and moan like a wolf everytime she uses her body to satisfy the craves of the wolf with emerald's eyes.

Excerpt
I fixed my gaze on his crimson red lips, dying to have a taste of them, my mind overwhelmed with lust as I watched water droplets drip from his sexy black locks of hair, down to his pale face. His wet shirt hugged his body in all the right places highlighting his abs and biceps.
Frustrated, I stood on my tiptoes and brought my lips to his, refusing to deny the feelings I harbored for Carlisle anymore. Just as our lips were about to crash, he placed his index finger on my lips.
"You shouldn't..." He said, killing the mood.
"But why?"
"You don't know what you're getting into with me Peyton, you don't know me or what I'm capable of." He turned to leave, but I followed, determined to get an answer.
"Then show me." I stood in front of him, too involved to back out now.

“I love you”

“It’s too late for that. You’re saying this because you don’t want to lose me”

“Yes, I can’t bear to lose you. I realize how stupid I’ve been and I’m very sorry. Please don’t leave me”

One week into her marriage, Mira longs to spend a passionate night with her husband, Tyler—
only to come face-to-face with her fated mate instead: Valen Montclair, the Lycan King.
All Mira wants is to stay by Tyler’s side.
But fate has other plans, dragging her into Valen’s world against her will.
When love and destiny stand on opposite sides…
Will Mira choose her husband—or the fated mate she was never meant to meet?
Her answer will change everything.

Four years ago, Lena Hartley made the most embarrassing mistake of her life. On a stupid dare from her friends, she tries to seduce Adrian Cole—the sexy teaching assistant every girl at the university had a crush on.

Lena discovered, far too late, that Adrian wasn’t alone. His girlfriend was there. And Lena was standing in front of them… naked.

Now Lena works quietly at a coffee shop, keeping her life simple and drama-free, until the bell above the café door rings and Adrian Cole walks in.

Dr. Mara Venn had survived twelve years in trauma medicine by trusting what she could prove: blood pressure, pupil response, scan results, time of death.

Then blue letters appeared in the air outside Mercy Gate Medical Center, warning her not to enter an operating room.

The patient was already dead.

The surgery was a trap.

And if Mara went back inside, a powerful hospital family would bury a man's death under her name.

Three years ago, I took off the ring and became a mechanic, just to keep a promise to my brother — to protect his widow and daughter.

Three years later, Connor from Brooklyn tried to force my brother's daughter into marriage, blacklisted me from every job, and had the hospital turn away my sister-in-law.

They thought I was just some grease monkey.

They didn't know the ring had a lion carved on it.

When I put it back on...

The entire underworld of New York would tremble.

I died betrayed on my wedding altar.
The silver blade in my sister's hand felt colder than our shared childhood. My "fated mate" Kaelen held me down as she carved out my heart—a sacrifice for his ambition.
In my final breath, I saw him: Fenrir, the half-blood guard I'd scorned, breaking through a wall of spears to reach me. Silver arrows pierced his chest mid-leap, but his dying eyes held no blame—only a loyalty that followed me into darkness.
The Moon Goddess heard my dying vow.
Now I'm back, standing where it all began—the mate choosing ceremony. Kaelen expects me to declare him again. My sister waits to play her victim.
But this time, I walk past the golden Alpha and kneel before the broken slave.
"Rise," I whisper, lifting his chin. "The real Luna has come home."
And when they laugh at my choice, they don't see what I do: the ancient power stirring beneath his skin, the king waiting to be awakened.
Let them call him monster. Let them call me mad.
We'll show them what happens when a betrayed Luna and a fallen king unite.
The altar awaits its true sacrifice—and it won't be me this time.

She saved her husband with scorched flesh, raised her son with dying breath, yet was abandoned, insulted, and left to freeze in the snow. When she vanished into the deep sea, all the liars finally got their cruel karma.

After a forbidden night, maid Elara conceives twins for ruthless mafia Don Asher. To shield her from deadly power struggles, he fakes cruelty and puts a bounty on her head. Trapped in the murderous manor, she hides her pregnancy to survive. Cornered and hunted, she leaps into the frozen river to save her babies. After narrowly surviving childbirth, she becomes Asher’s lifelong obsession. The cold-blooded king burns all enemies, drops every pride, and kneels to atone for his sins forever.

For twenty years, Belle Sloan believed she had the perfect life, a loving husband, a devoted son, and a powerful business empire. But one shocking revelation shatters everything. The son she raised isn't hers. Her husband and stepsister have secretly loved each other for years. And the family she sacrificed everything for was nothing more than a carefully crafted lie.

The year Caleb loved me more than anything, he cut all ties with the entire Donovan mafia family, gave up his heir title, and ran away from New York with me to live on the lam out of state.
But one day, after hauling contraband and working three side jobs till his heart flared up and he coughed up blood, I took the six-million-dollar check his mom handed me and watched as his family’s guards dragged him onto a private helicopter.
He clung tight to the cabin frame, begging me not to leave like a man losing his mind.
I tossed every last dollar he’d scraped and saved for me right into the freezing pool, sneering that the tiny amount he’d managed to earn would never buy me a Steinway grand—not in a million years.
A dead-broke wreck like him had no right to talk about a future together.
Five years later, we crossed paths at an upscale charity gala.
I swallowed every ounce of my pride and begged him to lend me a sum of cash.
He said yes—on one condition. I’d be the private pianist for his engagement party, forced to sit there and watch him live out his perfect engagement for everyone to see.
I agreed without a second thought.
He’d never have the slightest clue why I was desperate for that money.
It was all to save a little girl.
A little girl who shared his blood.

Five years ago, I pulled a dying man from the depths of the ocean.
His name was Silas. When he woke up, he looked me in the eye and swore he'd marry me, that he'd protect me for the rest of his life.
I believed him.
I hid it from my clan, shed my tail, and followed him to land. I bore him a daughter—Winnie. I kept myself locked away in a villa, out of sight from the world. No wedding. No ring. Even the mermaid scales on Winnie's legs had to be covered up with layers and layers of concealer.
Until that night at the banquet. Zoe and her goons pinned us both to the tile by the pool, scraping the scales off Winnie's legs with a knife, sneering that this "filth" was such an eyesore.
I stroked her mangled calf, desperate for Silas to come save us. But Zoe said Silas was her fiancé.
Silas? Her fiancé?
Then what the hell am I?

I died once—betrayed and devoured by my fiancée and the townspeople I had protected. I used my ice powers to shield them from the scorching apocalypse, yet they believed the rumor that consuming me would grant them the same abilities, and brutally ate me alive.

Reborn fifteen days before the apocalypse, when 70-degree heat turns Texas into a wasteland, my ice powers will become the only oasis. In this life, the police station basement will no longer shelter refugees—it will only store my supplies, and the corpses of those who dare to trespass.

I spent five years living as a benevolent saint and healer, beloved and praised across the realm. But a sudden summons from the Rose Duke pulled me into the cruel, scheming world of the nobility. Plagued by my fake sister’s malice, ridiculed by arrogant nobles, and exploited by the royal family, my peaceful pretense finally shattered. The moment my mentor’s seal broke, my dormant, demonic curse powers awakened at last. Holiness is only my mask; curses are my deadliest secret. Standing side by side with the forbearing, hidden cursed prince, I tore apart the royal family’s hypocritical lies and taught every soul who dared to underestimate me: the gentlest saint can wield the darkest, most unforgiving power.

Before I died, I married mob boss Dante in my sister's place.

Five years of marriage, and I was nothing but her replacement. He hated me for stealing her spot. My parents were ashamed I couldn't make him love me. Everyone just waited for her to come back.

Christmas Eve—fire tore through the mountain estate. Dante's first move? Sprint straight to my sister, fresh off the plane. My parents escaped right behind him. Nobody remembered the pregnant wife locked in the dressing room. Smoke and flames took me and my baby while they held each other outside, celebrating they'd made it out alive.

I opened my eyes on the day they cornered me with divorce papers.

My parents threw the documents at me. My sister stood there smirking, ready to slide into my place. This time? I didn't cry. Didn't beg. I picked up the pen and signed.

They wanted me gone? Done.

The apocalypse has arrived, but I am merely the villainous master in a doomsday novel.

The mission given to me by the system is to humiliate my kind-hearted fiancée, Avery.

Looking at the only dry rations left before us, I stomped them into pieces right in front of all the wasteland refugees, grinding them into the muddy ice and snow with the sole of my shoe, and commanded condescendingly:

"Bitch, lick it clean."

Instead of running away, she trembled and knelt before me submissively, lifting her head with a look of near-morbid attachment burning in her eyes.

Wait a minute, didn't the original script say she would become my mortal enemy?

Why is she kissing me?

For five years, my crime boss husband made me take off my wedding ring nine times—all for his precious damsel in distress.
When we first married, he promised me: "From now on, you're my queen, the queen of New Orleans."
But whenever Odette came crying for help, he'd change his tune: "Mr. Laurent saved my life, Cordelia. I owe his family everything."
And like a fool, I believed him eight times.
Eight times I watched from the shadows as he took another woman to our favorite restaurants.
Eight times I explained to the crew that our "separation" was just giving each other space.
Eight times I watched her move into my bedroom, use my dishes, sleep in my bed.
All for a man who kept making me slip off my ring, then slide it back on, over and over again.
Until the ninth time, when he said he needed to provide sperm for her fertility treatment, and I offered to leave.
He still thinks this is just another temporary break, expecting me to come crawling back in a month like always.
He'll never know I've already booked my ticket out of here.

Twenty-five years of being overlooked.
My husband Steven prefers my best friend Liliana, and my son Terry and grandson Roy treat me like a maid.
I thought I could endure this life forever, but when Steven gave my dream trip to Liliana, I couldn't take it anymore.
I decided to leave and stop wanting their love.

The day I won the competition, my sister's heart "failed," and she could never stand again.

From that moment, she claimed all the favoritism.

Looking at my wall of honors, she sat in her wheelchair, heartbroken: "Chloe is so amazing, unlike me—just a burden who could die any moment."

My brother's heart ached for her. He grabbed a baseball bat and smashed all my trophies to pieces, defending her honor.

When I was selected as dance troupe captain, tears streamed down her face: "If I hadn't gotten sick, could I have shined on the Lincoln Center stage too?"

My parents turned to scold me for showing off, drugging me before the audition and ruining my chances.

Later, she had a breakdown and went live on Instagram, swallowing pills while sobbing that she didn't deserve love.

My childhood sweetheart, my fiancé, rushed to her side immediately. He dropped to one knee and slipped my diamond engagement ring onto her finger.

Later, I was killed by an armed robber. As I lay dying, I made one last desperate call for help.

He hung up impatiently:

"Mia needs me to hold her hand during her IV treatment. Stop being so fucking unreasonable!"

When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day my sister's heart "failed."

Caspian kept me locked in the basement as a living blood bank.
This mafia don was also my husband. Ever since he discovered I could heal instantly, I became nothing more than a consumable—kept alive to sustain another woman.
That woman in the hospital bed was his stepmother in name, his forbidden obsession in reality—the desire he could never speak aloud.
Unable to claim her, he went mad. He tried to fill her dying body with my life.
When she was poisoned, he forced toxins down my throat to test antidotes, watching coldly as I convulsed on the floor, vomiting black blood.
When assassins came for her, he yanked me in front as a human shield, letting bullets turn my body into a sieve.
Covered in blood, I clutched his pant leg, begging through tears for him to just kill me.
But to protect his precious stepmother, he kicked me away without hesitation, his voice utterly cold: "Stop playing dead, Aria. You're a monster. You can't die anyway."
What he didn't know was that every time a mermaid heals, she burns through her soul's essence.
Through each shattering and mending, he was draining my very source of life.
Today, he strapped me to the operating table again, ready to drain more blood for his forbidden love.
He had no idea this would be the last time.

In that luxury cruise ship fire that shocked the world, my husband Gordon Mercer—the ship's captain—pried open my bloodied fingers and fastened the last intact life vest onto his first love.
In my past life, he locked me inside the blazing cabin. First, the flames devoured me. Then, as the ship broke apart, the icy ocean swallowed me whole. I drowned in the depths.
When I opened my eyes again, I'd returned to that life-or-death moment—the ship about to sink, alarms tearing through the night.
Watching Gordon clutch that trembling woman in his arms, I didn't break down sobbing like before. I didn't beg.
Instead, I laughed coldly and threw the life vest at their feet.
"Since you two are so desperate to die together, go right ahead."

Five years ago, on my wedding day, my fiancé Vincent fucked my best friend in the bridal suite.

Five years later, I returned to New York with my husband—the most powerful Mafia boss in Naples. At Atelier Milano, my former best friend Bianca circled my custom gown like a vulture, pestering the staff about meeting the legendary Mrs. Salvatore.

She had no idea the woman she pitied as a pathetic nobody was the very person she was dying to impress.

I saved a dying mobster three years ago. Vincent Ricci—New York's most feared Godfather.

He decided I was his. Private jets, five-million-dollar proposals, the whole nine yards. I fell for it.

The night before our wedding, his enemies took me. Three days of torture left me blind. Everyone said he'd never marry damaged goods. He married me anyway and spent three years treating me like a queen.

Yesterday I fell down the stairs and my sight came back.

But that's when I found out about my perfect husband's dirty secret.

The loan sharks who kidnapped us wanted payment for my twin sister's gambling debts—in blood.

When my FBI negotiator father showed up with his tactical team, he found Lily with a paper cut, crying her heart out. I was dying from a gunshot wound in a basement below.

I called him with my dying breath: "Dad, please send help. I'm bleeding out."

"Are you kidding me right now, Emily? Your sister just went through hell, and you're pulling this pathetic stunt for attention? How sick are you?"

He hung up. I died alone, dismissed as a liar.

Three days later, they found my body. And the truth that came with it burned their perfect world to ash.

I thought I was marrying the New York Godfather out of love. I didn't know I was just a walking blood bank for his fake 'savior'—my illegitimate half-sister.

My father, my brother, my husband... they bled me dry, framed me, and even demanded my unborn baby's cord blood to keep a murderer alive.

When I finally learned the truth, I didn't cry. I didn't scream.
I simply locked the doors, scheduled the emails that would shatter their reality, and left them a charred corpse in a towering sea of fire.

They thought they watched me burn. I let them descent into absolute madness.

"Stop—Daniel, the fk are you doing! I came here to learn to swim, not get fked!"
In the pool, because my kicks were all wrong, Daniel—my husband's cousin—told me to wrap my legs around his waist to "feel the rhythm."
Except I was wearing that scarlet bikini Vincent shoved me into—practically nothing. Even worse, Daniel's rk-hard ck in those thin trunks was jammed right up against my py.
Every time he kicked, that thing dragged right over my ct, like it was about to shove straight inside.

"You sure dispatch called this... natural causes?" I gripped the steering wheel, staring at the perfect suburban house.
"That's what they said," Gates muttered. The victim's father, Arthur, stood at the door in pressed khakis, weeping.
He swore his daughter, Grace, died in her sleep last night after eating vanilla pudding.
But the moment we stepped inside, a suffocating cocktail of cheap lavender spray and rotting meat punched me in the sinuses.
In the living room, SpongeBob SquarePants was blasting at maximum volume. Grace was slumped in a recliner. When Gates gently pinched her wrist to lift her arm, a sickeningly soft, tearing rip echoed in the room.
Her grayish skin completely degloved, fused to the leather armrest. Beneath the liquefied muscle tissue, frantic rows of tiny white maggots wriggled into the exposed bone.
A body that died "last night" doesn't breed maggots.

"Whoever left that wild strawberry scent on my bed is dead," the severely germaphobic captain posted.
I froze. It was me.
Now, my idiot brother just locked me in Ronan's room to pay off a debt. Ronan ignored my boyish disguise. Leaning in, his nose brushed my hood.
"Wild strawberry," he whispered, a dangerous smirk forming. "It WAS you."

My mother-in-law, Dorothy, sneered that I dressed like a janitor. My husband, Adrian, called my design sketches "a waste of fabric." Even the son I carried for nine months called me an embarrassment, saying he wished his dad’s secretary, Madison, was his mother.
For eight long years, I was nothing but an unpaid maid in this house.
Until today, when the doctor told me severe exhaustion was causing my heart to fail. And my eight-year-old son just pointed at the bag of medicine in my hand, shrieking, "You just have a headache! Why are you wasting money on medicine?"
I didn't argue. I didn't cry. I went home, opened the bottom drawer of Adrian’s desk, and signed the divorce papers he had been secretly preparing.
In their wildest dreams, they could never imagine that the sole trigger condition for my late mother's $50 million trust fund was for me to leave this man.

My husband suffered a massive heart attack mid-thrust inside my best friend.

Now, the ER doctors are clutching his surgical consent forms, waiting for me—the legal wife—to sign.

Over the phone, my mother-in-law shrieked in absolute despair while my best friend sobbed in terror.

I turned a deaf ear to them, taking my time to admire my makeup in the mirror.

There was absolutely no rush. Waiting until I changed into this pitch-black mourning dress to slowly watch his countdown to death wouldn't be too late.

After all, when my parents and my son, Noah, were lying in the morgue, I survived a dead-silent night exactly like this one, shedding tears until my eyes literally bled dry.

Now, it is finally my husband's turn to go to hell and atone for my family.

When my parents forced me to donate my organs to my sister, I didn't refuse or run away. I just quietly signed the surgical consent forms, willingly giving my kidney to Vivienne, their beloved daughter.

A few months ago, my sister was hospitalized with kidney failure. The doctor said she needed a transplant. My family's first thought was me—the backup daughter they'd kept around all these years.

When my husband Allen took my hand with tears in his eyes and said, "Only you can save her," I agreed without hesitation.

When the doctor explained the surgical risks and potential complications, I smiled and nodded my understanding.

My parents said I'd finally learned what sisterly love meant.

Even Allen, who'd always been cold to me, held my hand gently and said, "The surgery's safe. You're so healthy, nothing will go wrong. When you recover, I'll take you to Hawaii."

But they don't know that no matter how the surgery goes, I won't be around to celebrate.

Because I just got my own test results—I have terminal brain cancer. I'm going to die anyway.

To marry Vincent Romano, I survived twenty-eight near-death experiences over five years.
The first: city hall's foundation collapsed — three broken ribs. The second: a truck rollover — my right leg nearly amputated. The twenty-seventh: a chandelier in the bridal shop, three days unconscious.
All of Seren City laughed at me. Romano's most cursed bride-to-be. Yet I loved him still.
Until the twenty-eighth time.
When the bomb detonated outside city hall, I threw myself over Vincent on instinct. The blast shifted my organs and shredded my back. The day my stitches came out, I felt no relief at having survived.
Because I stood outside the study and heard his voice.
"Her organs were badly damaged. She almost actually died." Antonio's horror was audible. "Vincent, you used to treat her so well—"
"People change." A pause, then quieter: "I did want to marry her once. But before Amelia, I had no idea what it meant to truly want someone. I acknowledge the debt — I just can't spend my life repaying it." Another pause. "Father won't agree, and she won't let go easily."
"So." His voice turned to ice. "The only clean way out is to make her give up on her own. As long as Cassandra refuses to break the engagement, the accidents must continue. Until she walks away."

I bought my five-year-old son a Captain America shield for his birthday.

But when I landed in New York, the hospital called.

"Your son died during the medical procedure your husband authorized."

Marcus had signed Axel up as a living donor. For his mistress's kid.

While our baby bled out on the operating table, Marcus was cutting birthday cake with his new family.

Even used Axel's favorite Superman pillow as decoration.

I stared at my child's mutilated corpse and made a promise.

You fed my baby to wolves for a whore's smile. Time to return the favor, Marcus.

After Ava lost her voice in a car crash, my brother fled the country overnight.
My parents begged me to take his place and honor the engagement.
For three years, I stayed by her side. I took care of her, helped her through rehab, and waited for the day she could finally speak again.
But at our wedding, my brother came back to stop it.
In front of everyone, my parents pressured me to step aside. "You were only filling in for Ethan in the first place. Now that he's back, it's time to give his fiancée back."
Ava stopped walking toward me and, without a second thought, ran straight into my brother's arms.
Later, she tried to smooth things over in private. She said it was only to test my brother's intentions, and promised that in the end, she would still marry me.
She thought I'd stay right where I was, like I had for the past three years, waiting for scraps.
What she didn't know was that I had already accepted the Godfather's secret appointment. That very night, I boarded a helicopter bound for the North District.
Now that the man she never got over was back, it was time for me to claim the underground empire that belonged to me.

I am just a simple florist making an honest living. Yet, somehow, the city's untouchable elites keep suffering horrific, freak accidents right after someone buys my flowers. The police know I'm involved, but they can't prove a thing. After all, how much damage can a few blooming petals really do?

I was Elara, a wingless half-sprite. The lowest of the low in the Obsidian Court. My job was to clean up the mess left by the dragons.
But right now, the biggest mess was inside my own stomach.
I was pregnant. With the Dragon King's child.
He didn't remember that night. He only remembered waking alone — and swearing to crush whoever had touched him into dust.
So I said nothing. I served him. I hid. And the three little voices only I could hear kept whispering the one thing I couldn't believe: that scary dragon is soft on you, girl.
Then my belly began to leak his golden aura, and his jealous betrothed smelled it first.
When the King learned the truth, he didn't rage. He looked at my stomach and said the child could not stay.
He never told me why.
So while he was away at war, I climbed onto the Sky Bridge over the endless Void — and I jumped. Better to fall than to let them take my baby.
I never expected something down there to catch me.

During a luxury cruise, Lydia is drugged, blacks out, and wakes in the hands of Ethan, a notorious arms dealer, the most feared name in the UK, and a whispered warning across Europe.

He catches her by the ribbon in her hair and turns her escape into a dead end, yet he never takes her life.

While everyone waits for the moment she breaks, Ethan clasps a bracelet around her wrist, a mark she never manages to remove.

"They say you'll redeem me," he murmurs, voice dangerously low as he tilts her chin up. "But I only want to lock you away forever."

He thinks he's playing a game of conquest. Instead, he's the one who surrenders. Until the day he kneels, blood on his hands, a ring held out like a confession.

"Good girl," he breathes. "Call me 'honey.' Stay with me, forever."

I'd sacrificed everything—my savings, my future—to rescue a memoryless man from the twisted wreckage of his car. Day by day, we developed feelings for each other. He slipped a simple silver ring onto my finger, calling me his sole comfort, the only light in his life.
However, the light was violently extinguished the day his true wife burst into the hospital. Her bodyguards slamming me against the wall was just the beginning. As the blows rained down, I learned his real identity: Ethan Vance, the heir of the richest family in the L City.
The most damning evidence was their marriage certificate, issued two years before we had met. The ultimate betrayal came as his wife deliberately snapped my fingers and stripped me of my last shred of dignity. He saw it all with icy detachment, then turned and pulled her close. "Lana doesn’t need to be reasonable. I’m the one backing her ".

Ryan Lee, is a hardworking, heartless and arrogant chairman. It had been rumoured for he to be a man who didn't wait on his father's business before becoming the chairman. He spend his entire life in the company he is managing, but behind that cold and hardworking man, there is a kind, handsome, carefree and kind hearted side he has. He is doing other things in a secret way. He is also going and eating in a not famous and fancy restaurant.
He is also going in an amusement park alone, having fun as as he could. He doesn't like getting involved in people's life except his brother's, but an unexpected circumstance led him to collide with an ex-seductress. Paige Williams is middle-classed beautiful waitress and a hardworking woman.

She was once a seductress who had escaped hell to live a better life in another country with her best friend. She had met Ryan and accidentally seduced the chairman Ryan after finding out the truth of he being the famous heir of the Lees. The two got caught in a forbidden romance no one knows about. Will the handsome chairman fall for a waitress?And will they have a happy ending?

“A powerful opener to a series [that] will produce a combination of feisty protagonists and challenging circumstances to thoroughly involve not just young adults, but adult fantasy fans who seek epic stories fueled by powerful friendships and adversaries.”--Midwest Book Review (Diane Donovan) (re A Throne for Sisters)“Morgan Rice's imagination is limitless!”--Books and Movie Reviews (re A Throne for Sisters)From #1 Bestselling fantasy author Morgan Rice comes a new series for middle grade readers—and adults, too! Fans of Harry Potter and Percy Jackson—look no further!THE MAGIC FACTORY: OLIVER BLUE AND THE SCHOOL FOR SEERS (BOOK ONE) tells the story of 11 year old Oliver Blue, a boy unloved by his hateful family. Oliver knows he is different, and senses that he holds powers that others do not. Obsessed with inventions, Oliver is determined to escape his horrible life and make his mark on the world.When Oliver is moved to yet another awful house he is put into in a new sixth grade, one even more terrifying than the last. He is bullied and excluded, and sees no way out. But when he stumbles across an abandoned invention factory, he wonders if his dreams might be about to come true.Who is the mysterious old inventor hiding in the factory? What is his secret invention?And will Oliver end up transported back in time, to 1944, to a magical school for kids with powers to rival his own?An uplifting fantasy, THE MAGIC FACTORY is book #1 in a riveting new series filled with magic, love, humor, heartbreak, tragedy, destiny, and a series of shocking twists. It will make you fall in love with Oliver Blue, and keep you turning pages late into the night.Book #2 in the series (THE ORB OF KANDRA) and Book #3 (THE OBSIDIANS) are now also available! “The beginnings of something remarkable are there.” --San Francisco Book Review (re A Quest of Heroes)

The day manager Gregg shoved me into the freight elevator shaft, the nuclear winter outside had only just begun. As he slammed the gate shut, he said, "No one will find you dead down there; the insurance payout is enough to cover the shortfall." I died in the darkness at thirty degrees below zero. Then, I woke up. I was back on the afternoon he threw the contract in my face. This time, I didn't sign. I shoved the contract into the paper shredder, snatched the brass key ring from Supervisor Miller, locked every exit of the warehouse, and re-routed the entire building's heating system into my own command bunker. As Gregg licked ice off the frozen floor on the security monitor, I was sitting in the guard room, heating up a can of pork. Outside, the first snowflake fell. And this time, the ones who would be freezing to death were them.

Getting pregnant by her boss after a one-night stand and suddenly leaving her job as stripper was the last thing Serena had hoped for, and to make matters worse he is the heir to the mafia.

Serena is calm while Christian is fearless and outspoken but somehow the two have to make it work. When Christian forces Serena to go through with a fake engagement she tries her hardest to fit in the family and the luxurious life the women live while Christian is fighting as hard as he can to keep his family safe, but everything takes a turn when the hidden truth about Serena and her birth parents comes out.

Their idea was to play pretend until the baby was born and the rule was to not fall in love, but plans don't always go as expected.

Will Christian be able to protect the mother of his unborn child?

And will they end up catching feelings for one another?

Play the BDSM game with the mafia triplets

"You were ours from the second we set eyes on you."

"I don't know how long it's going to take you to realize that you belong to us." One of the triplets said, yanking my head back to meet his intense eyes.

"You are ours to fúck, ours to love, ours to claim and use in any way we want. Isn't that right, darling?" The second one added.

"Y….yes, sir." I breathed.

"Now be a good girl and spread your legs, let's see what a needy little mess our words have made you." The third one added.


Camilla witnessed a murder made by masked men and luckily ran away. On her way to find her disappeared father, she crosses paths with the world's most dangerous mafia triplets who were the killers she met before. But she didn’t know it...

When the truth was revealed, she was taken to the triplets’ BDSM club. Camilla has no way to run, the mafia triplets would do anything to keep her as their little slut.

They are willing to share her but is she going to submit to the three of them?