8636 Book(s) Related to rebirth of the untamed goddess legacy of the untamed goddess 1

Eloise has been in love with her older brother's best friend, Nonso, since she was a little girl. She was twelve when he left for Kensington College to chase a boxing career. Heartbroken, she waited patiently for his return.
Six years later, Nonso is back—a college athlete champion now running a boxing scholarship program at her high school. Eloise is convinced the universe is finally bringing them together.
But Nonso doesn't see it that way. To him, she's still the little girl he used to carry to bed and kiss goodnight. Still Oliver's baby sister. Nothing more.
Eloise becomes deeply infatuated with making him see her as the young woman she is now. But what she doesn't know is that Nonso isn't the perfect man she idolises.
He's a man with an insatiable appetite for sex, not the soft, gentle soul she believes him to be. He doesn't love or get emotionally invested in the women he sleeps with.
Eloise refuses to give up. If Nonso wants to keep calling her Little Ruby, she'll just have to give him every reason to see the woman standing in front of him. She pushes every button he has, testing his patience and slowly cracking the resolve he's built around her. And the closer she gets, the more Nonso begins to question the boundary he never thought he'd have to defend—and the harder it becomes for him to hold on to the one thing he's always been certain of: That Eloise is nothing more than his best friend's little sister.
But how long can he keep telling himself that lie?

Three years ago, my twelve brothers died in the desert at night. A traitor stepped over my death notice and took the place that should have been mine. Three years later, I hide in a run-down convenience store, wiping shelves. I endure being spat on, having my beer stolen, and being called trash—I endured it all. Because I'm waiting. Waiting for someone to return, waiting for an answer. Some ask me: Is it worth it, for a bunch of dead men? I don't know if it's worth it. I only know that when they were alive, they called me Captain. Three years in seclusion, all for the day the God of War returns!

In high school, my ex only dated me because she needed a dependable errand boy.

I believed it. I tutored her, fixed her grades, rewrote her papers, and cleaned up every mess she made.

Then I overheard her telling her friend, “He’s good at studying. That’s it. Dating him is already me being generous.”

At graduation, she dumped me without hesitation.

Years later, I became the CEO of a public company.

Her company was collapsing—cooked numbers, broken cash flow, investors pulling out—and she needed one deal to survive.

She didn’t know who I was.

She scraped my car in the garage, then warned me not to cling to her, saying the CEO she came to meet was way out of my league.

Then the boardroom door opened. She looked up and saw me in the seat at the head of the table.

She thought I’d use this to get revenge.

I didn’t. I just opened her file and said, “You may begin.”

After 3 years of bloody battles, the War King returns, only to hear his fiancée Elena “fell to her death”. But he finds she’s alive, pregnant, and imprisoned. He swears to slaughter all enemies and protect his woman and unborn child.

The second the graduation ceremony ended, my parents took us all to the nicest restaurant in town.

They said they wanted to properly celebrate having "two graduates" in the family.

Pierce, my boyfriend of four years, showed up last with a huge bouquet of champagne roses in his arms.

I'd just gotten up from my chair when he walked right past me and handed the whole bouquet to my friend Brooke. "Happy graduation. No crying, okay?"

My mom was all smiles, going on about how thoughtful Pierce always was.

Then he caught my eye and hesitated. He tugged one rose free from the bunch and held it out to me. "You're not really into this kind of thing anyway, right?"

So that was my graduation gift from my boyfriend. One stem he'd pulled out of another girl's bouquet without a second thought.

Once we sat down, the conversation quickly turned to jobs.

Brooke looked miserable as she told us she hadn't heard back from a single place she'd applied to.

Pierce put down his fork and knife right away. "Come work at my family's hotel. Pick any job you want. I've got you."

My brother leaned in too. "My company's hiring right now. I can refer you. It's literally one phone call."

My dad gave her a sympathetic look. "Don't stress. You're so talented, good companies are going to be fighting over you."

The three of them crowded around her with ideas, each one trying harder than the last.

I'd just graduated too, but when it came to me, my dad barely gave it a thought. "Clara can just grab whatever job she can get. It's not like she can afford to be picky."

My mom nodded. "If anybody's willing to take you, just be grateful."

I stuck the rose in the water glass in front of me. The stem was too long and the glass was too shallow, so it slumped against the rim. No matter how I set it, it wouldn't stay up.

Just like me in this family. However hard I tried, I could never find my footing. Whether I was there or not, it made no difference to anyone.

Fine. Then I'd leave.

I'd go somewhere as far away from them as I could get, and this time I wasn't coming back.

I was cruising leisurely down a desert highway when three Harley motorcycles pulled up behind me, claiming one of their crew was injured.

I pulled over to help — and they stole my truck.

I called the police — and the cops arrested me as an accomplice.

The Hales found me twenty years too late and announced I was their real daughter.

Everyone expected me to tear apart the girl who'd lived my life.

Instead, I asked if she could cook. She could, so I claimed her as my big sister on the spot.

My biological brother didn't take it well. At dinner, he raised his hand to hit me.

Then the shy, shaking fake heiress stepped in front of me. "Don't hit her!"

“I am Ivan, a meteorologist. In my past life, I was tied up in the snow and froze to death by my wife’s family. After being reborn, I personally bought up all the inferior supplies they needed. When a blizzard of minus fifty degrees Celsius came down, and when the gangsters kicked down his door, I was sitting in a safe house two kilometers away, holding a whiskey, watching the surveillance footage—this is my revenge.”

My wife said she had an important client meeting, so I attended our daughter’s awards ceremony alone.
Then a neighbor sent me a photo.
Rachel was sitting in another school’s auditorium beside her college boyfriend—smiling as his hand rested on her waist.
Before I could process what I was seeing, our fifteen-year-old daughter stepped up to the microphone.
“For fifteen years, my dad has been the one holding our home together,” Lily said.
Then she looked straight at me.
“My mother left us a long time ago.”
Three hundred people thought my wife was dead.
But Lily knew the truth.
And before the night was over, she would force me to face the betrayal I had spent years pretending not to see.

In my previous life, I was cruelly exploited by my wicked stepmother.
Not only was I drained of my military discharge money, but I was also driven into a subterranean warehouse that could collapse at any moment.
In darkness and despair, I was frozen to death by a cold wave that dropped surface temperatures to minus 60 degrees.
The moment I opened my eyes again, I had reincarnated back to three days before the outbreak of the cataclysm!
Staring at my stepmother's face, which was filled with greed and harshness, I wasted no words, threw on my heavy coat, and marched straight toward the underground warehouse.
For I knew that with sufficient supplies and energy, this nuclear-grade subterranean warehouse would become the ark of the apocalypse!

Damien thought he could balance loyalty to his childhood friend and love for his angel fiancée. He had no idea he was dragging me into a living nightmare. Four years of false heavenly missions turned into endless torment upon the altar. The lies crumbled the moment my angelheart was torn out of my chest. After uncovering Chloe’s deception and his own heinous crimes, Damien meted out brutal justice, gave away all his ducal fortune as atonement, and leaped into hell, hoping to be reunited with me. From the divine realm, I watched him perish with cold detachment. Love that arrives only after everything has been destroyed deserves not an ounce of mercy.

Aston Whitmore thought I loved him. Truth is, his mother bought a year of my life for a million dollars.
He thought those 3 AM study sessions were about redemption and romance across class lines. He didn't know I was never watching his pretty face—I was watching the countdown to my mother's kidney transplant payment.
I froze this trust fund prince's credit cards, cut his internet, and nailed him to that desk until his eyes went bloodshot cramming calculus.
When he turned into a guard dog in front of the whole cafeteria, publicly staking his claim on me, all I was calculating was the date that final payment would clear.
Today, he burst through the mansion door clutching his Yale acceptance letter, ready to give me some grand confession.
I was already thirty thousand feet up on a flight to Zurich, staring at that million-dollar deposit notification, face blank as I pulled out the SIM card, snapped it in half, and tossed it in the trash.
No note. No goodbye.
Just one notarized Service Completion Certificate sitting on that empty desk. Terms fulfilled. Transaction closed.

Eight years after Lucan Altieri left Chicago, he finally came home as the new Don—and to get married.
That same day, I received my final verdict. After eight years of endless dialysis and a rejected kidney, my doctor took my mother aside and told her there was nothing left to try. All the hospital could do now was buy me a little more time.
Mom was helping me out of a cab and into my wheelchair when a black car pulled up next door. Lucan stepped out with his fiancée.
He stopped when he saw me. His gaze dropped to the wheelchair, and his mouth curled into a smirk.
"Well, Quinlan. Eight years, and this is what you're reduced to?"
I tugged my sleeve down over the bruised, ruined veins of my dialysis fistula. "I broke my leg on the ice."
He laughed and pulled his fiancée closer. "Perfect timing, then. I'm getting married. You should be a bridesmaid."
I smiled back at him. "I can't. I won't be here to see it."
Then I patted my mother's hand. Without a word, she turned my wheelchair and pushed me inside.

irectly in front of me.
Only the night before, she’d been curled up in my arms, her warm fingertips brushing my collarbone, our bodies tangled in tender, loving intimacy.
Yet the toe tag fastened around her ankle was etched with cold, unflinching words: Su Wan, Female, 22. Cause of death: fatal fall from height. Time in morgue custody: 365 days.
She had been dead for an entire year.
Just what in the hell was the woman who’d gasped beneath me night after night, who’d lived beside me day in and day out for six whole months—the woman I’d called my girlfriend?

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 Brianna came crying for help, he'd change his tune: "Mr. Parker saved my life, Claire. 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.

On the day the apocalyptic flood swallowed the city, I died on a fractured overpass.

The man who crushed my fingers under his boot was my brother-in-law, the very man I had sacrificed everything to support. And standing safely out of reach, watching coldly as the muddy torrent swallowed me whole, was my supposedly sweet and devoted fiancée. In her arms, she fiercely clutched her "son"—who was hoarding the last of my survival rations.

In the very last second of my life, she nestled into the arms of her ex-boyfriend and left me with a single, contemptuous sneer: "Let's go. Forget about this useless trash."

It turned out that working my fingers to the bone and emptying my life savings had all been a pathetic joke—a long con orchestrated by a pack of bloodsucking parasites.

But when I opened my eyes again, I had returned to exactly one year before the apocalypse began.

My fiancée was standing there, holding a cup of hot coffee and sweetly begging me to invest another million into her brother's business.

I just smiled, gently pushed her hand away, and turned around to liquidate every single asset to my name. With that money, I secretly constructed a state-of-the-art, deep-sea underground fortress.

Later, when the monstrous floodwaters inevitably tore the city apart, they stood on the balcony of their doomed mansion, desperately falling to their knees and begging my icebreaker for salvation.

Sitting inside my perfectly secure command cabin, I took a leisurely sip of hot coffee and softly gave the order:

"Open fire. Don't let this trash dirty my deck."

My daughter begged me, tears in her eyes, to take her to gymnastics camp—just the two of us.

I thought it was her way of proving she loved me.

I was wrong.

In that hotel room in Toronto, I overheard my husband's voice—with another woman.

“Don't worry, Sophia will find a way to stay a few more days. I promised her that blue limited-edition leotard.”

“Her body now… after giving birth, it's ruined.”

In that moment, my world collapsed.

I thought I'd only been betrayed by my husband.
But the daughter I raised with everything I had—she was his accomplice.

The child I nurtured with my own hands kept clearing the path: so that woman could sleep in my bed, wear the lingerie I could no longer fit into, sneer in front of the mirror at every single mark my body earned from bringing life into this world.

I once believed that giving up my career would be enough to hold my family together.

But they joined hands to tell me: my sacrifice was never honored. It was a joke.

When a woman who has given everything to her family finally wakes up—

Her revenge will make every single one of them remember exactly what they did.

Five years into our marriage, we were finally about to have our delayed tenth wedding ceremony.
 
Just moments before exchanging our vows, my husband, Declan, received a text from his childhood best friend—she had just called off her wedding.
 
Without a second of hesitation, Declan declared, "Let's do the wedding another day. Sloane is having an emotional breakdown. I can't let her face it alone."
 
This was the tenth time he had canceled our wedding for the exact same woman.
 
And when our five-year-old son, Leo, suddenly spiked a high fever and threw up stomach acid on the floor, Declan simply dropped the line, "Leo, you're a big boy. Be strong," and walked away without a single backward glance.
 
He was entirely convinced that I would do what I had done the previous nine times: gracefully placate the guests on his behalf, take our sick child home, and wait for him.
 
But he forgot one crucial detail: no one stands in the exact same spot waiting forever.

The best deal I ever made in my life was selling my blood to a vampire.

I was a broke, permanently starving werewolf who needed ten times the food a normal person did just to feel full.

Evan was a vampire heir with a blood allergy, the kind where the smell alone made him sick and dizzy. Somehow his life was worse than mine.

Except my blood didn't trigger it. He never reacted to me.

So he pulled out his card. "I'll keep you fed. You let me feed off you."

This wasn't a vampire. This was a walking meal ticket.

For the next three years, he was the perfect meal buddy. Five meals a day, and he never once complained. Once I finished and let out a satisfied burp, it was his turn, just a small sip, nothing more.

Then, the year we graduated, he got a call from his family. He had to fly back to Europe that same night.

Before he left, I figured I'd thank him for three years of generosity. I pulled my collar aside.

"Go ahead, take more this time. Consider it a going-away present."

He hesitated, then leaned in.

But this time, once his teeth were in, he couldn't stop.

By the time he pulled back, horrified at himself, I already had a hand pressed to my neck, and everything went dark.

"Sloane, where there's smoke, there's fire. If you're really clean, why is it only burning you?"
In my last life, when those fabricated hotel records went viral on the company Slack, I scrambled to explain. I cried. I begged.
What I got was a suspension, a blacklist, and a foster mother who died on a hospital bed because I could no longer pay for her meds.
The person who started it all? Walked right over my corpse into a partnership.
Then I opened my eyes—and I was back. Three days before the promotion list dropped.
I stared at the pixelated "explicit screenshot" on my screen, and I didn't cry. Didn't rage.
I just smiled and hit screen record.
This time, I'm not proving I'm clean.
I'm proving they're guilty.

For six years, I sold my body to underground clinics as a human lab rat to cure my son's heart failure and pay off my husband's debts.

Today, my biological brother kicked away the medicine I bought with half my life.

"Lucas was never sick. We faked the medical records to teach you a lesson for upsetting Virginia."

My husband coldly chimed in:

"I never went bankrupt either."

Even the son I bled to birth stabbed my arm, screaming, "A bloody monster like you doesn't deserve to be my mom!"

I finally realized my entire life was a meticulously crafted scam.

With my organs rapidly failing and only ten days left to live, I stepped onto the edge of the balcony.

"You're right," I smiled at my husband and brother, watching the color completely drain from their faces. "Six years of my life isn't enough to apologize to her."

"So I'll pay you with my corpse."

"Riccardo, please! I beg you!"
My water broke ten minutes ago. Warm liquid streamed down my legs and slowly froze into ice on the ground beneath me.
He stood on the other side of the bulletproof glass. In his eyes, there was not a trace left of the man I had once loved with all my heart.
In the Bellanona Mafia family, bloodline surpasses everything, and the hierarchy of age is an unyielding iron rule: the firstborn son shall inherit the entire underworld empire.
My sister-in-law Sofia and I were both pregnant, our due dates merely one day apart.
To make sure his elder brother’s child seized the succession right first, my husband coldly chose to sacrifice our own flesh and blood.
"My brother’s child must be born first." Riccardo’s voice came over the intercom, colder and more piercing than bitter winter wind. "This is what you owe them."
He had not only locked me inside this icy cellar. Just moments ago, his men pinned me down ruthlessly and injected a dose of medicine into my vein, solely to forcefully halt my labor.
Writhing in agony, I hugged my heavily pregnant belly tightly with both arms.
I could distinctly feel the little life inside me, once kicking and struggling relentlessly, growing fainter and fainter.
I’m sorry, my baby… Mommy is so sorry for you.

Dorian, my boyfriend of three years, was a partner at a top-tier Boston law firm. He was gentle, refined, and absolutely flawless.
A week ago, he buried his face in my neck late at night, whispering that the city was suffocating him. He wanted to take me back to his hometown to meet Octavia, the grandmother who had single-handedly raised him.
I agreed without hesitation.
But on Crane Island, every night Dorian would slip out of our bed, using Octavia's gout as an excuse.
Until that night. I crept barefoot to Octavia’s door and pressed my ear against the wood.
What I heard wasn’t a sick old woman. It was Dorian’s heavy panting, mixed with the shameless, breathy moans of a young woman...

I'd been dating a mafia heir online for six months when I learned he'd meant to pursue my roommate.

He'd been given the wrong account.

I'd refused his money and returned his gifts. Grant Whitmore took that as proof I was hopelessly in love with him.

Then an anonymous number sent me his messages with a friend.

“Keep it quiet. I've got her roommate's number. I'll decide when I've figured things out.”

“Decide what? Date the roommate. This one will still be waiting when you're done.”

So he started dating her and muted my messages.

Including the one where I'd already dumped him.

But when I went three days without texting the heir to another crime family, he messaged first.

“No hubby today?”

In my last life, my younger brother made a contract with an S-rank ghost, but it turned out to be completely useless, while I contracted a B-rank ghost, the Starving Ghost, which could not only devour monsters but also consume other awakened humans' ghost servants to evolve.
Under my protection, my family went from scavenging for scraps to living in a luxury mansion inside the government safe zone.
But on the eve of a ghost tide attack, I was prepared to stay behind and defend the base while sending my parents, my sister, and my younger brother away first.
Instead, they killed me, all to take my Starving Ghost so they could have an easier time surviving on the road.
After I died, they didn't even have time to tame the Starving Ghost before it devoured every one of them.
When I opened my eyes again, I had somehow returned to the day we formed our ghost contracts, and this time, my younger brother chose the Starving Ghost.

The day the Gryphon army marched home in victory, my sister's husband came back safe. My husband, Tobias, died on the ice.

Everyone pitied me, and I believed them. I mourned him for years, handed over every resource the Elven Realm had to offer to Crown Prince Nathaniel, and helped him lock down his claim to the throne.

It took me years to find out the man who came back wasn't Nathaniel at all. It was my "dead" husband, Tobias.

He killed his own brother, stole his face with forbidden magic, all so he could marry my sister Sabrina and make her his queen, official and out in the open.

"Sabrina and I are the real thing. Pretending to be my brother, that was for the good of the kingdom."

They framed me for treason and threw me into the Pit of Judgment. As I burned, I watched the two of them hold each other while the kingdom cheered.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day the army came home.

My sister begged me to stop grieving, tears in her eyes. "Nathaniel" swore he'd give me a life of luxury. The old king stood in front of everyone and promised to grant me anything I wanted.

This time, I didn't cry. I chose to remarry without a second thought.

Tobias thought wearing his brother's face was all it took to sit on that throne. What he didn't know was that without me, he never stood a chance of getting there at all.

My husband's first love was in trouble.
When the news came, I was lying on the operating table.
Dr. Miller put down his scalpel and said to Dr. Johnson, "I'll leave my wife's surgery to you."

"If I don’t go now, I might regret it for the rest of my life."

With that, he turned and walked away.
Watching my husband's retreating figure, I couldn't hold back—tears fell.
The next second, the cold blade of a scalpel touched my skin.

Dr. Johnson spoke calmly, "Why the tears? With me here, you'll be fine."

On our graduation trip, my boyfriend and I ran into three killers in the middle of nowhere.

I stripped for them. I played nice. I told them whatever they wanted to hear.

That gave my boyfriend the chance to run. He came back with the sheriff’s deputies, and they saved me.

But when we got back to campus, word got out that three men had taken turns with me.

Every single day, strangers tore into me online:

【Three guys at once. Be honest, she liked it.】

【A real woman would’ve fought to the death to keep herself clean. Why’d she throw herself at them like that? No shame at all.】

【If that were me, I’d have deleted myself.】

My boyfriend got colder with me by the day.

Then, right after he got his slot at the state police academy, he broke up with me. His reason:

“I’m sorry.

“Every time I look at you, I can’t stop picturing all those guys on you, and I just…

“You’re dirty.”

Those last two words were the straw that broke me.

In my despair, I walked off the edge of a cliff.

And when I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day we ran into the killers.

The moment I gave up wasn't when I found out my husband was cheating. It was when I heard my ten-year-old daughter laugh into the phone and say, "Mom's so clueless. She has no idea about Dad and Summer."

Ten years ago, I was a top biomedical researcher, making six figures. I gave it all up for his promotion and our newborn daughter. Ten years later, the perfect marriage I traded my career and youth for turned out to be nothing but an elaborate lie.

He called me his safe haven, then got in our bed with his mistress and discussed how to keep me in the dark.

This time, I'm not going to cry or make a scene. I'm going to quietly gather my evidence and call the lab director I've turned down seven times.

My fiancée's father called me a stray dog, worse than trash.
My rival forced me to crawl between his legs and trampled me into the mud.
They all thought I was just a piece of trash to be trampled on at will.
But they didn't know that I endured humiliation and hardship for a shocking secret order.

When the apocalypse arrived, my girlfriend, driven by vanity, exposed my unlimited resource space and incited starving people to kill me and feed me to the zombies, while she herself stepped on my flesh and blood to become the "savior goddess".
But she didn't know that I mutated amidst the pile of corpses and awakened into the only zombie tyrant.
I corrupted the space, cut off food supplies, led a horde of tens of thousands of zombies to besiege the city, and threw a bounty at the starving mob: "Use her flesh and blood to exchange for a bite to eat."
Watching the once-lofty Mother Teresa torn to pieces, kneeling at my feet weeping and begging for mercy, I laughed. Moral blackmail? Sorry, I'm the Zombie King now.

For ten years, Elena Rossi built Don Nico De Luca’s empire from blood, bullets, and broken promises. She was his shield, his strategist, his most loyal woman, until he gave another girl the tenderness he had always denied her. When Elena finally walks away, Nico thinks she can be replaced. But without her, his throne begins to crack, and the woman he took for granted rises into a future that no longer has room for him.

I was once the daughter of the Alpha of Dawn Pack.
After my parents were killed and I was kicked out of the Pack, I was left with nothing.
I was brought back to William’s Pack and became the one he treasured in the palm of his hand.
When the car accident happened, he shielded me with his body, saying he couldn’t live without me.

But after I was diagnosed with terminal stomach cancer, all I wanted was to quietly leave and not burden him.
However, after I tried to escape from the wedding, he captured me and imprisoned me.
Refusing to eat and losing weight, it was just the toll of my illness.
But he thought I was intentionally torturing him.

When his "resurrected" ex-wife, Jessica, returned,
At the celebration banquet, I merely gagged once while eating.
He flipped the table, shoved garbage into my mouth, and screamed for me to die.
I hid in the bathroom, wrapped in his clothes, vomiting blood, and no medicine could stop the cold shivers.
For the first time, I called him and begged him to let me go.
But all I received was his scolding and the merciless hang-up.

"I gave Julian Sterling everything: my love, my loyalty, and the child I carried in my womb. In return, he watched my best friend push me down a flight of stairs and did nothing as I lost my baby.

Now, my brother is behind bars for a crime he didn’t commit, and my husband is demanding I sign a lie to protect the woman who shattered my life. He thinks I’m a broken bird with clipped wings. He thinks I have nowhere left to turn.
He’s wrong.

Julian forgot one thing about the woman he married.

I’ve called my father. I’ve set the clock. I have seven days to play the grieving wife before I strip Julian of his fortune, his name, and his freedom.

The countdown to his ruin starts now.

My sister climbed out her window the night before her wedding. So my family pinned her veil over my face and sent me in her place.
I'd been her stand-in my whole life — same face, same hair, the daughter they could afford to lose. Nobody looks twice at a bride behind a veil.
The Falcones figured out I was a fake before the vows. They broke my hand for the insult. And the don himself — the man this whole city only says quietly — took one look at the mess they'd made of me and told them to throw me out with the trash.
Then his eyes dropped to the locket my dead mother left me, lying on his marble floor.
And the most feared man in the city went very, very still.
He had no business knowing my mother's name. So why did he say it like a prayer?

I thought eight years of devotion could warm a frozen heart, but it turned out to be nothing more than a nightmare of being someone’s stand-in.
Jazzy’s poisoned chocolate, the scalding hot water, and Azrael’s gaze that never strayed from his dead wife—each one a blade carving into my soul.
They said I stole her dresses, wore her necklace.
But who saw the nights I stayed awake for the pack, the dangers I took on for Jazzy?
It wasn’t until I was cast out of the territory that I realized—there was never a place for me here.
Then the ruby ring burned against my skin, and the Silverfang wolves came for me.
Only then did I learn the truth my father had hidden all along—
I was never anyone’s shadow.
I am the heir of royal blood.
And those who once hurt me will one day watch as I rise from the ashes—reborn.

Dad was in critical condition and had just been wheeled into the operating room.
My husband—also Dad’s attending surgeon—was nowhere to be found.
I stood in the corridor in my pajamas until past midnight, hands shaking as I kept calling Jason.
When the call finally connected, a sweet, girlish voice spilled through the speaker:
"I’m watching the Eiffel Tower lights with Jason!"
A male voice followed, impatient and familiar—Jason’s:
"Is it her again? Ava, tell her to stop calling. The lights are about to go out. Can she stop making a scene?"
A chill sliced through me. Before I could speak, the line went dead.

EXCERPT:

"Rayne stood looking at her reflection in the mirror. Her a pale green ballgown clung to her curves and left little to the imagination. Her jet-black curls are swept up and pinned to her head, leaving her neck exposed. Tonight was the night that most of the unmated wolves in all the North American packs would hopefully find their mates. She was sure all of them were just oozing with excitement.

She was not.

She didn’t want a mate. She didn’t need a mate...."

“...but the sudden scent of jasmine and vanilla hit her nose from somewhere close. That meant only one thing. Her mate was near..."


Rayne met her mate at the Moonlight Ball when she was eighteen, her mate that she never wanted to find, that she never wanted in her life. He showed up out of nowhere. His actions that night unknowingly set her free. She took the freedom he gave her, ran away, and never once looked back.

Now five years later he shows back up in her life after rejecting her five years ago, demanding that she take up her rightful place by his side. He walked away from her after calling her weak. No way was she going to just let him back into her life as if he belonged there. Rayne never wanted a mate, would he being here now change that? Her body and soul beg for him to claim her, yet her heart belongs to another.

Can her mate convince her to give him a chance? Will her lover convince her to stay with him? The Moon Goddess paired her with someone not of her choice, all Rayne has ever wanted was the chance to choose for herself. Who will win? Rayne or the fate that the moon set for her?

For mature readers 18+
Warning for abusive past trauma
Her Returned Mate is Book 1 in the Gathering Shadows Series. Book 2 His Redemption is also available for reading now on Anystories.

In the glittering world of high society and cutthroat ambition, a single sentence shatters a marriage: "Let's get a divorce."

For three years, Claire Thompson has lived in exile, her marriage to the powerful Nelson Cooper a hollow shell existing only on paper. Shipped abroad on her wedding day and utterly forgotten, she returns only to be handed divorce papers. But Claire is no longer the timid, heartbroken girl she once was. Behind her quiet facade lies a woman transformed, secretly rejoicing at her newfound freedom.

However, freedom comes with a price. As Claire signs the papers with relief, a chilling phone call reveals a dark truth: the threats she faced overseas were no accident, and the trail leads shockingly close to home—to the family that raised her and the husband who discarded her.

Just as she prepares to sever all ties, a twist of fate pulls her back into the gilded cage. Nelson, for reasons unknown, suddenly stalls the divorce. Meanwhile, the family that disowned her and the fragile, manipulative sister who stole her life are determined to ruin her reputation and drive her out for good.

But Claire is playing a different game now. With a mysterious new identity, powerful allies, and secrets of her own, she is no one's pawn. As hidden truths unravel and loyalties are tested, a stunning question emerges: In this high-stakes battle of love, betrayal, and revenge, who is truly trapping whom?

In my past life, I spent everything loving Ronald Wright, only to watch him chase after his first love and marry her in the end. I died alone and sick in a hospital, forgotten.

After being reborn, I gave up. On our wedding anniversary, I asked for a divorce. I walked away from being a full-time housewife and became the youngest rising star in the design world.

But something changed. The husband who once ignored me suddenly cared. He came home every day, afraid I might cheat on him.
I sneered, “One day, you’ll be the one begging for a divorce.” He laughed, “Keep dreaming.”

I waited for him to realize, just like in the past, that he still loved the other woman and would force me to leave, giving me millions in return.

But this time, he pulled me into his arms and said, “What’s money after a divorce? I’m worth billions. It’s all yours. But you—you’re mine.”

"Sign it. Save her, and I'll give you anything."
For four years, I was Damian Wright's "invisible wife".
While I played the pauper, he poured his soul into his dying first love. Desperate, he blindly signed a stack of papers to buy the "Gifted Doctor's" time.
He didn't read the fine print. Buried inside was our Divorce Decree.
"Congratulations, Damian," I said, stripping off my surgical mask to reveal the wife he never truly knew. "You're free."
The submissive Amelia is dead.
The legendary "Ghost Surgeon"? That's me.
The blindfolded racing queen "Raven"? Also me.
The shadow behind the global intelligence network? Still me.
I was ready to vanish, but Lucas Sullivan—the titan who makes the Wrights look like peasants—blocked my path.
When Damian tried to reclaim me, Lucas didn't just stop him; he brought an empire to its knees.
"They don't deserve to look at you," Lucas whispered, his touch a lethal mix of protection and obsession. "But if you crave the world, Amelia, I'll burn it down just to hear you say my name."

SOPHIE HUNTSBERGER found her way to a new life and new family when she ran from the physical and sexual abuse at the hands of her father. She has blossomed and healed in ways she never imagined she would or could be within the safe arms of her adoptive family.
ARRICK CARRERO has been her rock, her best friend, and her protector for years, but even he cannot get to the root of her growing emptiness.
Sophie is lost.
And she's reaching out for anything to fill the void and cure whatever ails her.
When Sophie realizes the answer has been within arms reach all along, she’s unable to prepare herself for Arrick’s spiraling emotions.
What was once innocent now comes into question - and life does not always let the heart prevail.
Characters that will break your heart, as well as each other.
Contains some mature, adult content and language.

“Sign the contract. Be my incubator. And I will let you live.”
That was the deal I made with the tyrant named Damon Lexton.
I was his medicine. His prisoner. He did not love me—only the rare blood in my veins that kept him alive. When I died in the fire, he did not mourn his wife. He mourned the loss of his cure.
Five years later, I returned from the dead with a new face and a heart of stone, ready to watch him suffer.
Then my five-year-old son walked into his office.
“Hey, Old Man. Are you the one who made my mom cry?”
Damon stared at the child—the son he once called a bastard. For the first time, the tyrant fell to his knees.
He cornered me against the wall, his eyes burning with madness and obsession.
“You can run, Anna. But you and our son belong to me. I used to need your blood to live. Now I need your heartbeat to breathe.”

I can't breathe. Every touch, every kiss from Tristan set my body on fire, drowning me in a sensation I shouldn't have wanted—especially not that night.
"You're like a sister to me."
Those were the actual words that broke the camel's back.
Not after what just happened. Not after the hot, breathless, soul-shaking night we spent tangled in each other's arms.
I knew from the beginning that Tristan Hayes was a line I shouldn't cross.
He wasn't just anyone, he was my brother's best friend. The man I spent years secretly wanting.
But that night... we were broken. We had just buried our parents. And the grief was too heavy, too real...so I begged him to touch me.
To make me forget. To fill the silence that death left behind.
And he did. He held me like I was something fragile.
Kissed me like I was the only thing he needed to breathe.
Then left me bleeding with six words that burned deeper than rejection ever could.
So, I ran. Away from everything that cost me pain.
Now, five years later, I'm back.
Fresh from rejecting the mate who abused me. Still carrying the scars of a pup I never got to hold.
And the man waiting for me at the airport isn't my brother.
It's Tristan.
And he's not the guy I left behind.
He's a biker.
An Alpha.
And when he looked at me, I knew there was no where else to run to.

Another fight with my boyfriend made me agree to my best friend's crazy idea to party at a nightclub. But then, she spiked my drink and I ended up in the arms of a terrifyingly handsome stranger, Michelangelo.

We spent the night together underneath his sheets, as he took me through wild realms of pleasure. But the next morning, he was gone.

And then I caught my boyfriend with my best friend so my life utterly shattered from that day.

Weeks later, I realized that I was pregnant, and I also got hit by the news of my boyfriend's wedding to my best friend.

Devastated, I moved to a Pack in New York City to start anew with my unborn child, and then three years later, guess who I bumped into? The one and only Michelangelo, the real father of my son.

But then, he lied that night. He didn't give me his full name or his real identity. He didn't tell me that he was the formidable Nico 'Michelangelo' Ferrari, a Mafian Alpha and an insane force to reckon with.

Realizing who he is sends me into a panic attack, but for some reason, he won't stop chasing after me, trying to convince me that he loves me, that he's my fated mate and that he wants to be with me and our son.

What the heck do I do?!

Carter Anderson is part of the top Fortune 500 and runs a publishing company focused on vintage printing. He is struggling with his past and with the immense pressure that is put on him. When his new administrator, Ariana Adams, walks in to meet him for the first time, they are both awestruck by one another. Once she learns about what he's into, she can't get enough. That is until the media begins to put pressure on them. She eventually begins to wonder whether they can work or not and even though they stumble, they keep coming back together. No matter how difficult it is.

Warnings: Sexual Content, Cursing, BDSM, D/s

Age Suggestion: 18+

The Secretary Series: A CEO and Secretary Steamy Romance is created by Minette Enfers, an eGlobal Creative Publishing signed author.

"Give birth to my child, then get out."

With those words, Sean’s kiss fell brutally, ripping Susan’s nightgown open.

His fingers pressed against her clitoris. Sean flipped her over, pinning her under him. His swollen, turgid member quickly found her secret path. He thrust in violently.

Susan broke into a cold sweat. Sean nipped her ear. "Does it feel good? Is this what you like? I’ll make you pregnant, but you can’t stay by my side—this position is reserved for Victoria."

——

Years ago, Susan saved Sean and earned the chance to marry him. But she was damaged in that accident and couldn't conceive. She took countless hormone injections, losing her figure and becoming ugly. Finally, she could get pregnant, only to catch Sean cheating with the young, hot Victoria.

"In that case," Susan said, "let’s divorce."

Susan was bloated and had been a housewife for three years with no skills. Yet, she chose to divorce, even though she couldn't take her own child with her...

After a tragic misstep leads to her best friend's death, Bella is exiled from the Rune pack by her alpha father.
Her new life with her mother and stepfather, the Alpha of Frost pack is fraught with challenges, not least of which is sharing a room at Howlstone with her stepbrother, Ryder, the Alpha prince, and his twin best friends, Kai and Finn, who are also her biggest bullies. As Bella grapples with her new reality, she discovers that these three are her destined mates who can't seem to recognize her.
When they finally do, it is too late, because they have hurt her beyond repair.

After a tragic misstep leads to her best friend's death, Bella is exiled from the Rune pack by her alpha father.
Her new life with her mother and stepfather, the Alpha of Frost pack is fraught with challenges, not least of which is sharing a room at Howlstone with her stepbrother, Ryder, the Alpha prince, and his twin best friends, Kai and Finn, who are also her biggest bullies. As Bella grapples with her new reality, she discovers that these three are her destined mates who can't seem to recognize her.
When they finally do, it is too late, because they have hurt her beyond repair.