9047 Book(s) Related to duskmoor i and the four ancient beings

Strap in for "Galactic Survival Games: Hucow U-Verse," where every week is a ruthless fight for survival on a cosmic scale. Our hucow heroine isn't just another contestant; she's bait in the galaxy's most vicious reality show, thrown into savage new worlds each week from dinosaur-ridden wastelands to treacherous alien oceans. Here, survival isn't guaranteed—it's stolen, fought for, and drenched in the blood and sweat of its contenders.

Amid the chaos, she finds a recurring connection with a man doomed to forget her as his memories are scrubbed clean after each harrowing ordeal by their sinister alien overlords, the Grays. Their twisted game is designed to entertain a galaxy that thirsts for desperation, despair, and an all-you-can-consume buffet of carnal pleasures.

But the game's endgame erupts when the Forgotten—a rogue faction her love interest belongs to—storms the stage in Week 52. As his memories flood back, revealing the bonds they forged in the crucible of alien landscapes, she faces the ultimate choice: remain in the relentless glare of the galaxy’s cruel spotlight or vanish with the Forgotten.

This series is not for the faint-hearted. It's raw, it’s gritty, and it slaps you with the harsh reality of love and memory in a universe that prizes spectacle overall. Readers can tune into "Galactic Survival Games" on Novel Snack and ride the razor's edge of passion and danger. Will she fade into obscurity, or rise as a legend among the stars? The cosmos is brutal, and so is this story. Witness it.

“I, Orion Henderson, reject you, Lyra Onyxvale, as my mate and the future Luna of the Crescent Pack. I also reject the bastard in your stomach you claim is my child. I wouldn’t touch you if you were the last woman on earth. And if I truly am the one who impregnated you, may the Moon Goddess strike me dead right here, right now.”

He announced it in front of the whole pack, holding the scarred cursed scroll in his arms.

I looked up, waiting for the thunder that should have struck him down for his lies. He was the father of my child, I knew it. But the Moon Goddess turned her back on me when I needed her most. Nothing happened. And that was enough to make everyone believe I was a whore, trying to pin my pregnancy on the Alpha.

“Since my innocence has been cleared, I hereby sentence you and your unborn child to death by stoning.”


After suffering seventeen years of bullying from her pack, Lyra thought her only salvation would come from finding her mate. But fate was cruel. Her mate turned out to be Orion, the Alpha of the Crescent Pack, and her younger sister’s boyfriend.

When Orion slept with her, she thought it meant the end of his affair. Instead, he abandoned her the next morning. Weeks later, when she discovered she was pregnant, he refused to claim the child. Worse, he framed her and sentenced her to death.

But fate had other plans. Lyra was given a second chance mate… two, in fact. The Valentino brothers. Damien, the ruthless Lycan King who kills for sport, and Damian, the brilliant tech genius with a dangerous past.

Would they be her salvation, or destroy what's left of her heart?

Rachel Wood is uprooted from her home and enters a new high school, in 10th grade, in an affluent suburb in Westchester, New York. She struggles with meeting new friends, finding a boyfriend, avoiding the cliques of mean girls, and meets a mysterious boy from her school, Benji, and knows he is different from everyone. As their romance deepens, will she give up everything to find out his secret?

In RISEN (Book #6 of the Vampire Legends), Rachel Wood embarks on a mission to find her grandmother in New Orleans, and to learn the secret of who she really is. Her travels take her deep into mysterious territory, as she searches for her roots, and for an explanation of all that is happening to her. Benji will not give up on her, even though she can’t remember who he is. He is still in love with her, and more determined than ever to find her and rescue her—before it is too late. Rachel’s brother struggles to keep from giving in to his dark side, as he grapples to come to terms with his new power. Her sister, Sarah, tries to come to grip with her new life at Syracuse, while learning what it means to be a vampire herself. Rob, driven by his love for Rachel, fights to shake off the influence of the dark coven. He will have to fight for Rachel’s love, hoping her loss of memory will also mean she has forgotten her love for Benji. It will be a race to save Rachel’s life as all these forces converge in an ancient cemetery in New Orleans. But there comes a shocking twist, and by then, it may all even be too late… Will Rachel finally remember her true love? And will she be willing to sacrifice it all for him? RISEN is book #6 of the Bestselling Vampire Legends series (following SWORN, TAKEN, BITTEN, CHOSEN and AWAKENED).

For Jayden, his first day at a new school should have been a chance to blend in and keep his head down. But when he crosses paths with Liam, the school’s ruthless prince and notorious bully he finds himself locked in a vicious game he can’t escape from, even though his great strength as a wolf.

Liam’s influential family has made him untouchable, but Jayden’s no ordinary student he could play around with. He’s a werewolf forced to live among humans, hiding his strength and primal instincts to keep his kind safe. When Liam’s antagonism goes too far, Jayden vows revenge, but beneath the hatred, an unexpected attraction ignites. Will Jayden tame the beast within, or will his growing desire for Liam spell disaster for them both?

He has dark hair with very beautiful blue eyes, a cold and charismatic person.

I often see his work which is very good and my favorite, a painting of a toddler girl in a pink dress.

I thought it was an ordinary painting, but not for people who claim to know his dark past.

They say, the toddler painting is a manifestation of his mental illness which has an affinity for young children.

Levi William Stanley or Adam Joseph McCartney, a sadistic killer who had the heart to brutally murder his parents when he was 12 years old.

However, I couldn't believe the rumors. How could someone as handsome and great as him is a murderer?

People say, don't look at a book by its cover. But, is it true that my favorite lecturer is a murderer?

Phoebe is a young beautiful girl with a whore mother and an ex-convict father after they leave their children, Phoebe is left with two of her siblings to care for, she also had to clear her father's gambling debts after his disappearance, Phoebe would go any length to make sure they are happy even with her health condition, the man who caused her pain years ago is back in her life but now her life is more complicated with indispensable responsibilities as she was involved in a contract, will she be able to get back with him?

To the rest of the world, I was just a blue-collar "oil rig worker" battling the sun and storms at sea year-round.

But my true service record is locked deep in the Pentagon’s top-secret archives. Codename: "Ghost"—a specialist handling the military's deadliest black ops overseas.

The day my final mission ended, I pushed open my front door filled with anticipation, only to be greeted by a floor pooled with blood and smashed furniture.

An untouchable syndicate had beaten my wife black and blue and abducted my seven-year-old son, threatening to harvest him for the black-market organ trade.

Right now, safely holed up in a subterranean fortress, the arrogant syndicate boss is hiding behind multi-ton blast doors and dozens of hired guns, scoffing at the "cowardly" husband who only knew how to cry to the cops.

What they don't know is that, just a few minutes ago, I permanently shredded that disguise.

Let the hunt begin...

Several days after being locked in the dungeon, my wife married my own identical twin brother.
Rose petals rained from the sky; the entire city celebrated the new marriage of the crime family's matriarch.
She thought I would weep in despair in the dark dungeon, admitting my mistakes to her.
Little did she know, I was currently being held in the arms of another, even more powerful figure whom she herself feared, watching this farce with cold eyes.
In my past life, I gave her my heart, only to be betrayed and abandoned in return.
Living a second time, I will not serve her anymore.
She thought she could tame me using my brother's injury as an excuse, not knowing I had already tricked her into signing our divorce agreement days ago.
When she finally checked the surveillance and learned the truth, kicking down the dungeon door in a frantic plea for my forgiveness, all that remained was a pool of my blood...

As the undisputed queen of the CS department, my world used to consist of nothing but the absolute rationality of zeros and ones.
Until Corbin Hawke, hockey captain with his star-athlete entitlement, bulldozed past my firewall with his Academy Award-worthy act and a "love algorithm" he supposedly pulled all-nighters to write.
I naively believed it was the upgrade I'd been waiting for.
Until this moment.
The shower ran in the bathroom, his carefree humming drifting out, while my iPad lit up beside me. Thirsty texts from some cheerleader flashed across the screen, followed by him running his mouth in the team group chat:
"Easy, fellas. Dumping this frigid nerd at the championship party tomorrow and collecting that five-hundred-dollar bet. That script I copied off Stack Overflow for 200 bucks? She ate that shit up."
Staring at those vile messages, whatever naive warmth I'd stupidly let myself feel got deleted from my system in one clean swipe, leaving nothing but cold, pure logic.
Pissing off a top-tier hacker would be the most catastrophic mistake he'd ever executed.

To escape the absurd arranged marriage with the Duke of Hawthorne—a ruthless billionaire who demanded absolute physical perfection around him and was rumored to fire servants just for being plain—I spent years painting on hideous freckles and a sickly yellow complexion.
I hid my true face beneath outdated tweed suits until Earl Julian Sutton knelt in my rose garden.
"Georgina, I don't care about your looks. It's your gentle soul I love," he vowed.
I believed him. I fought my greedy father and defied the terrifying Duke just to be with him.
Yet, on our wedding day, right before exchanging rings, Julian dropped my hand and rushed to his crying mistress—a C-list model with a mass-produced plastic face.
"She's too fragile, Georgina. You're strong..." he said shamelessly in front of hundreds of guests.
The high society crowd gasped, throwing me pitiful glances.
So this was the price of testing a man's heart.
Suddenly, the heavy doors swung open. The Duke of Hawthorne strode in, flanked by bodyguards.
He walked straight to me, gently touched my clean, flawless cheek, and sighed.
"You made me play along with this 'ugly duckling' game for so long, my future Duchess... Are you finally done testing these fools?"

With a 28.6-second prediction ability, Kane Voss hides as an ordinary shop owner. His cold lawyer wife holds a buried family crime secret. Assets wars, deadly ambushes, and underworld battles break out. He unfolds his god of war aura, crushes all enemies, and tears down every hidden dark truth.

Three years ago, Marco Ferraro stepped over the corpses of the Vancetti family to claim his throne, delivering my sentence with cold indifference: "Don't take it personally, Noelle. It's just business."
Three years later, he is the untouchable new Godfather of New York, while I am nothing but a ghost in a threadbare coat.
His classless fiancée didn’t just buy my mother’s legacy—she took that rare pink diamond and dropped it, right in front of everyone, into a glass of whiskey thick with spit.
"Thirsty, fallen princess?"
She kicked the backs of my knees hard, forcing me onto the glass-strewn floor. Her sharp stiletto heel ground into my knuckles. "Drink it, or die."
Marco stood to the side, lighting a cigar, his eyes filled with nothing but boredom.
I tightened my grip on the shard of glass hidden in my palm, ready to drag us all down to hell.
But before I could strike, the deafening roar of rotor blades tore through the dome of the auction house. A pitch-black military helicopter hovered just outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the violent rotor wash instantly shattering every champagne tower in the room.
A voice that made the entire underworld tremble boomed through the speakers:
"Which one of you suicidal bastards touched my woman?"
A dozen crimson laser dots instantly painted a target on Marco’s forehead.
Rafael, "The Phantom," had arrived.
Tonight, no one makes it out of here alive—except me.

Three years ago, in that deadly barrier, I carved out half my progenitor heart and dragged Theron back from death's door. The wound on my back has never healed.
I thought it was a soul blood pact—bound in life and death. Then Samaela appeared, that fragile human with barely a century to live, and it all became a joke.
He believed her lies. Swallowed every word about how I'd murdered her parents in cold blood.
For that pathetic creature who couldn't even bear sunlight, my carefully groomed blood vassal sawed off my pureblooded wings, ripped out my progenitor fangs with his bare hands, and threw me into the Silver Cathedral.
Three years. Nailed to a cross with pure silver chains, I endured concentrated UV rays and holy water burning through me day and night.
Everyone waited for me to go mad, to beg, or turn to ash. I didn't.
Listening to their wedding bells toll outside, I simply watched—in the silence of my flesh charring and regenerating—as the silver light on my chains fractured inch by inch.
Then I tore out the silver spikes embedded in my rotting flesh, dragged my bleeding wreck of a body forward, and kicked open the doors to the Crimson Blood Moon Gala's hall.
Theron had forgotten one forbidden clause in the blood pact: The oathbreaker's life belongs not to the gods, but to me.

The day the butler of Sterling family came to claim me, the folks back in my dusty hometown lined the streets with tears in their eyes, waving goodbye like I was headed somewhere better.
The moment I stepped into that mansion, armed guards pinned me down in the first-floor medical suite, demanding I donate bone marrow to their precious adopted daughter, Celeste.
I responded by ripping out Celeste's dialysis machine.
My biological parents, Richard and Eleanor, went ballistic. They locked me in the attic storage room to "reflect on my behavior."
That night, while the house slept, I crept down to the basement and twisted open the main gas line valve.
I was halfway through rigging a candle delay fuse when the thermal imaging system caught me. Armed security tackled me before I could finish the job.
They'd had enough. They blindfolded me, tossed me onto a private jet like garbage, and flew me overnight to the most notorious hellhole in America—Deadwater, Texas.
The car had barely stopped in front of the bullet-riddled town sign when Richard leaned in with a cold warning:
"Listen to me. These people don't show mercy. An ungrateful brat like you? Three days, tops, before they pick your bones clean."
Eleanor stood beside him, dripping with fake concern:
"Willa, just agree to donate your marrow to Celeste, and you'll still be a Sterling. Stay here in this godforsaken wasteland, and you're dead."
I spat blood at her shoes. Eleanor's mask shattered. She ripped off my hood and shoved me hard into the dust.
I pushed myself up slightly, staring coldly at the yellow sand beneath my hands, and shook my head.
I squinted up at the familiar landscape—the rusted water tower, the butcher shop with skinned hogs hanging in the window, the faint smell of gunpowder in the air.
Funny. Nobody ever told me that the place I'd spent twenty years calling home was what rich people called "Deadwater."
Well. Since I'm here anyway.
Nobody's leaving this town alive today.

They all thought I was just a rogue soldier who had crawled back from the border, covered in gunpowder and looking for revenge for my family's old debts.
Everyone was guessing which building I would blow up next. Julian, as I expected, panicked.
He recalled all his elite personnel to the Vientiane Building, activated top-level security, practically turning the entire office building into an impenetrable fortress, and sealed off assets globally to prevent my "illegal theft."
But he made a mistake.
When he personally pressed the reset lock, attempting to regain control of the system through manual verification, he didn't hear the prompt of command execution, but rather the hydraulic hum emanating from the building's load-bearing walls—it was the "self-destruct program" he had personally signed, running as scheduled under the guise of my privileges.

We were ambushed by rogue wolves and chased all the way to the cliff's edge.
Caleb—my mate, Alpha of Ravenrock Pack—was covered in blood, barely strong enough to carry one person across the chasm.
Forced by the alliance marriage between our packs, he ultimately chose me.
Laura was left behind. The feral rogues tore her apart, piece by piece. They didn't even leave a body.
Three days later, Caleb acted as if nothing had happened and completed our mating ceremony on schedule.
After the wedding, he stripped me of every dignity of my position as Luna. He treated me like a prisoner, a punching bag for his rage, making me pay for Laura's brutal death.
When I learned that my entire pack had been slaughtered, I was locked in a freezing dungeon, wanting nothing more than release.
I used the last of my strength to rip apart our mate bond. But Caleb, driven completely mad, tore me to pieces with his own hands.
When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day of the rogue attack.
This time, I chose to step back and give the one he truly loved a chance to survive.

I am Mandy Langley, 42 years old, CEO of Sterling International. In Manhattan's cutthroat business world, I'd earned the name "Ice Queen."
Five years divorced, my ex-husband's parting words still stung—he'd called me cold as stone, said I was nothing but a dictator even in bed.
He had no idea my frost was a facade, hiding an emptiness and a craving no one could touch.
I controlled billions in assets, yet I lay awake every night, consumed by a single thought: I wanted a man to make me let go, to force me to surrender completely.
That man walked into my office three years ago, and I'd been drowning ever since.
Allen Thorne, my chief assistant, 28 years old—too young, shamefully young, and yet I couldn't resist him.
A year ago, I discovered the truth: he was the CEO of Vortex Capital, my rival, planted here to destroy me.
I should've fired him on the spot. Instead, I kept him close, pretending it was to watch him, when really, I just couldn't let him go.
Dangerous, magnetic, ruthlessly in control—he was everything I shouldn't want. I never exposed him. I fell harder instead.
I buried this forbidden desire, but every day he was there, right in front of me, taunting me.
What was I supposed to do? Cut him loose—or let him claim me?

At 2:17 AM, six weeks postpartum, new mom Harper thought she was just responding to her baby's crying. Instead, she discovered her husband Kieran and their live-in nanny Anya in the most intimate embrace—right beside her daughter's crib.
In her most vulnerable moment, in what should have been the safest space in her home, the two people she trusted most were betraying everything sacred about motherhood and marriage. Worse yet, they thought she was just another "baby-brained" mom who would never catch on.

They seriously underestimated what a mother is capable of.

When Harper finds that mysterious $300 Victoria's Secret charge on their shared account, when she discovers Kieran's handwritten love notes hidden in Anya's room, when she overhears them mocking her "annoying" middle-of-the-night feedings—she realizes it's time to show them what a real "burning sensation" feels like.

So the next time they tried to sneak around, Harper secretly swapped out their lube for her own special blend.

If you want to play with fire, let me show you what burning really feels like.

In my past life, just one day before the national evaluation camp that would make or break his career, my hockey-prodigy best friend faked an illness. He was ready to throw away his entire future just to go party in Chicago with a cheerleader.

Thinking I was doing him a favor, I stepped in. I tipped off his coach, saved his career.

Years later, he became a multimillion-dollar superstar. His way of thanking me? Framing me with doctored charity records and sending me to federal prison. He even smiled as he delivered the final, crushing blow:

"I planned that crash on the icy road, Kassia. Your parents' lives were just the price you had to pay for sticking your nose where it didn't belong."

Now, my eyes snap open to the deafening cheers of our high school hockey arena.

Sitting right next to me, that same cheerleader is eagerly plotting how to corner him after the game.

Growing up, my parents and brother favored only me, treating my sister Della like a burden. They locked her in the basement and fled overnight with me to Aldermere.
Twenty years later, for the sake of my upcoming wedding, they brought me back to that old house to erase the last traces of her existence.
But none of us expected that Della wasn't dead. Decades had passed, yet she still looked exactly as she did back then. She even followed us to our new home—and right now, she’s sitting quietly on our living room sofa, slowly turning her head to smile at us...

We’ve been married for almost a month, yet my Alpha keeps hiding in the study to avoid me.
He would rather give me a cheap vial of synthetic bonding pheromones than bare his fangs at me.
I thought I was just the unwanted substitute for my runaway sister, that he felt absolutely nothing for me.
I slammed the door and left, heading to the Moon Well to confide. But the moment my blood dripped in, the Alpha's voice echoed:
"I finally married her... but I was born with a curse. How do I mark her without hurting her the moment I bite down..."

The night I was reborn, my adoptive brother—Viktor Konstantin, the Don of the Chicago Outfit—was poisoned during a negotiation.

In my past life, I loved him desperately. So when the aphrodisiac took hold and he gasped for me to call Liliya, I made a selfish choice. I stayed. I gave myself to him.

She arrived too late. When she saw us together, she ran. Her plane crashed over the Atlantic that same night.

Viktor married me without a word of blame. Until a turf war when our enemies captured me—seven months pregnant, chained up, beaten bloody. I called him, begging for help through my tears.

His answer shattered me: "You want to live? After killing Liliya? You and that bastard don't deserve to breathe. Go to hell, Eve."

I died in that cell. Our daughter died with me.

Now I'm staring into those same drugged eyes again.

This time, I'm making the call.

The bite mark on the silver chain can never be copied, and it’s the only proof separating truth from fraud. My roommate leaked my secret to her boyfriend, who wore a counterfeit chain to play my long-lost savior. They nearly drained all my money before an anonymous text alerted me to their scheme. I exposed their fraud in public, and finally reunited with the real boy who hid beside me all along.

After being reborn, my cousin and I swapped mates.
Last life, she married Kaelen Thornfield — the coldest Alpha in the West. Fifty years together and he never marked her. Not once. His childhood "friend," an Omega with a PhD in crying on command, made sure of that. My cousin faded into nothing. Unmarked. Unloved. Invisible.
Me? I married a man who couldn't stand the sound of my voice. Eleven months. Done.
This time, I took the western contract. Drove three days across the country in a beat-up truck, blew a radiator in the middle of nowhere, and rolled into his pack's territory covered in engine grease and smelling like a gas station.
His little Omega took one look at me and wrinkled her nose.
She has no idea what's coming.
I don't do tears. I don't do subtle. And when some girl sobbed at my mating ceremony about how jealous she was of me — I grabbed my Alpha by the collar and sank my teeth into his neck.
In front of the entire pack.
Without asking.

The moment I saw my name on that wedding invitation, I was already dead.

On Highway 23, a steel rebar had pierced straight through my chest. I was two months pregnant.

I called my fiancé Michael seventeen times. The first sixteen, he hung up without a word. On the seventeenth, his voice dripped with impatience: "Marrying Sophia is just for show. Stop making a scene."

The man who once knelt outside my family's estate for three days and nights, swearing to love me for a lifetime—he wouldn't spare me a single second more.

With my last breath, I dialed the funeral home. "I'm calling... for myself."

Flames consumed my body. My soul drifted toward the engagement banquet that should have been mine. When the killer's phone lit up, the name on the screen was Sophia...

When he destroyed my entire family, he never once thought of me.

So now, let me watch with my own eyes as this wedding becomes their funeral.

I died once.

Spent seventy years as a housewife the first time around. Biggest regret? Never felt my heart race.

Met her in this life, and that's when I learned what being alive actually meant. In this world where assassins pay in gold coins and seek sanctuary at Continental hotels, we became a duo called "Swans," hunting down the man who destroyed her family. Every single day, dancing on a razor's edge.

Two years ago, the explosion killed Raven Hayes right in front of me.

To survive, I married a naive tech heir, slipped into silk dresses and started doing the charity gala circuit, tried to convince myself this was the peace I wanted.

Until that enemy became a High Table member and announced a hundred-million-dollar bounty on me to the world.

I used to be scared. Used to run. Used to ask why it had to be me.

But sitting at my vanity, staring at this stranger's face in the mirror, all done up like some socialite, I suddenly realized none of it mattered anymore.

I'm going to die eventually anyway. Might as well die looking like myself.

When my roommate Sutton woke up from a wet dream, she was literally glowing. She claimed it was the most mind-blowing romantic experience of her life—the man’s silhouette, his scent, his body heat felt impossibly real.
Even crazier? When she checked her phone, there was a strange new number saved in her contacts. It belonged to the man from her dream.
While the rest of us shrieked about destiny, our moody roommate Jessamine just stared at the screen and dropped a chilling warning: "Things that come looking for you in dreams should stay buried."
We all wrote her off as a jealous freak.
That is, until I started noticing Sutton’s face growing more haggard by the day—and the fact that her "perfect boyfriend" refused to speak a single word to her.

Sophia and I fought over who would wear that emerald ring to change our fate.
In my first life, I claimed the emerald ring, thinking I would become a billionaire heiress.
That was until late at night, when I accidentally opened that underground iron door and he strangled me to death with a piano wire: "Your pathetic wailing isn't her at all."
Given a second chance, I backed away and let Sophia take it.
A few days later, she died in the ice cellar with her tongue severed. Right before she died, she let out a blood-curdling whimper: "A true devil is hiding behind that door!"
Waking up for the third time, we trembled in sheer terror as the ring was offered to us once again.
Just who exactly is the daughter he is looking for?

I chose the cheapest flowers in the shop because I thought my boyfriend was drowning in debt.
Hours later, I discovered he had sent his fiancée roses worth one hundred times more.
Julian Hart wasn't a struggling intern. He was the heir to Hart Group—and our entire relationship had been an experiment designed to test whether I was worthy of his fortune.
He expected me to forgive the lies.
He expected me to accept the career he destroyed.
He even expected me to come back after he refused to help save my grandmother.
Instead, I boarded a plane with another man and disappeared from his life.
Years later, the billionaire who once tested my love came begging for a second chance.

After my miscarriage, my psychiatrist husband offered to erase the painful memories to help me forget them.

During the three months I was dumped in a rehab facility, he took our daughter and his cousin on a European vacation.

Now that they're back, he assumes I’ll go right back to being that meticulous, perfect wife.

But I didn't.

He deliberately provokes me, thinking my coldness is just me playing hard to get.

He has no idea that the brainwashing procedure didn't just wash away my pain—it completely severed my love for him.

Here is the translation, adapted into the explosive, high-stakes style of a bestselling American domestic thriller. The pacing is sharp, and the emotional transition from shock to cold vengeance is deeply amplified:

For five years, I honestly believed I was the happiest woman alive.

Until today. The day I came home early and stood frozen just outside the balcony, listening to his phone call.

"What? Shuying, you're pregnant?" Tingshen's voice was laced with a raw, unbridled euphoria I had never once heard before. "I knew getting rid of Jiang Wan's baby back then was the right move."

My knuckles turned stark white as I death-gripped the ultrasound report in my hand.

Qin Shuying. My absolute worst rival. They had been sleeping together.

"Tingshen, are you sure she won't find out?" Shuying's sickeningly sweet voice drifted through the phone's speaker, piercing my eardrums. "If Jiang Wan ever realizes you were the one who killed her baby, she's going to raise hell."

"Relax." Tingshen laughed, his tone dripping with the kind of casual contempt reserved for swatting a fly. "She's so clueless. She honestly believes it was her own failing body. The stupid bitch even cried and apologized to me. She'd never in a million years suspect I drugged her."

My nails drove so brutally into my palms that they broke the skin.

"Besides, I finally got my hands on her core design drafts. Consider them a welcome gift for our baby. As for her shares in the company..." He paused, savoring his own smugness. "She's about to sign them all over to me anyway. So what if her old man built an empire? It's all dropping right into my lap."

The world tilted violently on its axis.

I was carrying his child again.

Just five minutes ago, before I overheard this monstrous phone call, I had been acting like a giddy fool, planning the perfect way to surprise him with the news.

My trembling hand drifted down to my lower stomach. My chest cracked open, a visceral, violent tearing of my own heart. The baby I had desperately longed for and mourned... chemically aborted by their own father, all to keep his mistress happy.

My sweet babies, I thought, the devastating sorrow rapidly freezing into sheer, icy rage. Mommy is going to make them pay for every drop of blood.

The club is dragging everyone out to a tomb Blair Whitmore's family dug up in Egypt, and nobody asked if this was a good idea.

She even brings some so-called expert along. Everyone crowds around the dark opening, practically shaking with excitement.

I'm the only one who tries to stop it.

"There's a mechanism in there. It's dangerous. We shouldn't go in. We need to report it to the antiquities authority first."

They just laugh at me.

"God, Blair, you're unbelievable. Untouched site like this and you just land it."

"Right, and some people never say two words all semester and now they want in on the action."

My palms are sweating. They don't know I come from a family of manuscript conservators. I grew up surrounded by dead languages and schematics for ancient mechanisms. What nobody else can read, I read clearly.

The stele at the entrance is carved with Egyptian hieroglyphs, and the warning is not subtle:

Whoever enters here will lose their soul to the void, and their bones will turn to dust.

The day I closed another major deal, my fiancé, the CEO, smiles and tells me the credit and the bonus are going to the new intern.

I watch him lean in close to her, laughing, and something in me just stops caring enough to fight for it.

I sign the transfer request and ship myself off to the most useless department in the company.

What I don't expect is that a few days later, the same man who never looked twice at anyone beneath him is going to be on his knees begging me to come back.

I accompanied my husband, Kieran, down to the Antarctic station’s underground quarantine zone to rescue an ice-bacteria sample at negative forty degrees. Halfway there, he asked me to fetch some data. I was gone for exactly three minutes. When I came back, he had vanished.
The institute staff told me I had gone insane, wandering the halls searching for a husband who had been dead for three years.
They called Kieran’s mentor, Dr. Reiner. Through the phone, the old man wept, swearing that Kieran had fallen into the deepest ice rift in Antarctica three years ago. Not even his bones were recovered.
Branded a lunatic, I was thrown into a sealed bio-containment pod twenty miles away. I became a human guinea pig. Under endless rounds of experimental drugs, my organs failed one by one until I died on that cold metal table.
Then, I blinked. Kieran was standing right in front of me, rushing me to the lab...

Thirty-two times.
That was how many times Tristan had "tested" me during our three years together.
When I met Tristan Bennett, we were both hiding our true identities. He never mentioned he was the Bennett family heir, and I never brought up the surname Torrente. We were just ordinary college sweethearts in Ashborne City. He said he loved me, and I believed him.
The seventeenth time: driving across town late at night to deliver documents for him, I was run off the road and crashed into a guardrail, earning nine stitches in my forehead. His first words at the hospital were, "Can't you even drive properly? You delayed my business."
The twenty-sixth time: he owed money at an underground casino. He sent me to negotiate. A gun was drawn, and a bullet grazed my arm, soaking my sleeve in blood. The scar is still there. He never asked if I was in pain; he only cared if his debt was cleared.
The thirtieth time: he asked for my entire life savings for an "emergency." He turned around and used that money to buy someone else a new car.
I thought if I endured it all, we would eventually have a future.
Until he announced he was opening a casino and demanded ten million dollars. "The ultimate test," he called it. If I passed, he’d marry me.
I refused.
He immediately bought Aurelia Gallom a twenty-million-dollar mansion. Waving the property deed in my face, he said, "Vesna, I was just testing you. It's a shame you failed. We're done."
I didn't cry, and I didn't beg. The moment I walked away, I had never felt so free. He didn't know I was a Torrente, or that my father, Dario, owned the criminal underworld of this city. And he certainly never imagined that I would later marry Silvio Marchesi—the most powerful Mafia Boss in Ashborne City—and become the Donna of the Marchesi syndicate.

When my fiancée’s medical exam revealed kidney failure, I prepared to sell our home—and even give her one of my kidneys.
Before sacrificing everything, I tested her with one lie.
I told her the dying patient was me.
She canceled our wedding in seconds, refused to return my money, and planned to keep our apartment after my death.
Then she picked up the report and saw the patient’s name.
It wasn’t mine.
It was hers.

I used to think I was the one he’d fight to the death to protect.
Three years ago, I changed my name, erased my past, and slipped away from a brutal family power struggle. I lived like a shadow, working at a tiny company by the docks.
Then came the accident—the gunshots, the chaos. I saved Noah, the coldest heir of the Miller Family. And he went insane over me. He put me on a pedestal: bought an entire sugar factory just to make “sweetness for me alone,” chartered a jet for a meteor shower, even walked into a kidnapping trap by himself to trade his life for mine. Everyone said he was ruthless—yet he was impossibly gentle with me.
Then I learned the truth.
Those three days every month when he “disappeared to be punished” was never for me. He was back at the old estate, playing husband to his wife… and father to their twins.
The day I caught it, I thought I’d break. I thought I’d scream, demand answers, rip everything apart.

I’m the only princess of the Iron Claw Pack. My Alpha father chose three pure-blooded wolves from the Johnson family to grow up at my side. The man I choose won’t just be my mate—he’ll become the Pack’s next Alpha.
In my last life, I chose the younger twin, David, because he was always gentle and considerate.
But less than a year after our bonding ceremony, he died.
Only when our mate bond stirred again did I learn the truth: David had faked his death—because the one he loved was Emma.
When Rogues attacked, David threw away his life to save me, only to beg that if there were a next life, I would never choose him again.
When I opened my eyes, I was back on the day I had to choose my mate. This time, I grabbed a file at random.
It was David’s twin brother, Nate—my sworn enemy.

In her previous life, after her parents died in a car accident, her eldest brother took in the daughter of the driver who caused the crash just to save face. To keep up the pretense of fairness, her brothers drained Lily Roberts of all her resources, trampled on her dignity, and poured everything into supporting the driver’s daughter. Lily gave her all to her brothers, only to be kicked out of the house and die a miserable death.
Reborn, Lily Roberts cast aside all her tendencies to help others. No forgiveness, no reconciliation—let them cling together; she’d thrive alone.
Her brothers all thought she was just throwing a tantrum and would slink back within three days.
But three days turned into another three, and then another. Her brothers couldn’t sit still anymore.
Eldest brother: “Why has my health been so poor lately? Because Lily stopped sending me tonics.”
Second brother: “Why does the company’s firewall keep failing? Because Lily isn’t here to maintain it anymore.”
Third brother: “Why is the drug research and development progressing so slowly? Because Lily no longer volunteers as a test subject for the drugs.”
Fourth brother: “Why are these scripts so terrible? Because Lily stopped writing them.”
Fifth brother: “Why is this prosthetic limb so useless? Because Lily isn’t the one who custom-made it anymore.”
Sixth brother: “Why does the eSports team keep losing? Because Lily quit.”
Her brothers knelt on the ground, begging for forgiveness. “Lils, come back! We’re family—blood is thicker than water!”
Lily Roberts slammed the severance of kinship agreement in front of them, scoffing coldly. “Cars hit the wall and you finally know to swerve? Stocks soar and you rush to buy? Get sentenced for your mistakes and you suddenly regret it? Sorry, I don’t forgive.”

When her half-sister stole her fiancé, scarred her face, and threw her from a skyscraper, Amelia thought it was the end—until fate gave her a second chance.
Reborn with bitter clarity, she vowed not to repeat the same mistakes. In her past life, she had been kind to a fault; now, she would wear a mask of innocence to outmaneuver every snake in the grass.
One by one, she tore down their schemes—leaving her treacherous sister begging, her stepmother pleading, her worthless father groveling, and her ex-fiancé crawling back.
Her response was a cold smirk and two words: “Get lost.”
But the one thing she never anticipated was crossing paths with Damien Taylor—the most powerful and untouchable man in the capital—on the very first day of her new life.
They said he was ruthless, ice-cold, immune to any woman’s charm. Amelia believed it… until she learned the truth: the man was dangerously cunning.
“Miss Johnson, I saved you. How about dinner?”
“Miss Johnson, I helped you. Don’t you owe me a favor?”
Backed against the wall, Amelia felt his low voice vibrate through her:
“You owe me too much, Amelia. It’s time to pay up—starting with you.”
Only much later would she realize… she’d been owing him all along.

Soft hot lips find the shell of my ear and he whispers, "You think I don't want you?" He pushes his hips forward, grinding into the back of my ass and I groan. "Really?" He chuckles.

"Let me go," I whimper, my body trembling with need. "I don't want you touching me."

I fall forward onto the bed then turn around to stare at him. The dark tattoos of Domonic's chiseled shoulders, quiver and and expand with the heave of his chest. His deep dimpled smile is full of arrogance as he reaches behind himself to lock the door.

Biting his lip, he stalks toward me, his hand going to the seam of his pants and the thickening bulge there.

"Are you sure you don't want me to touch you?" He whispers, untying the knot and slipping a hand inside. "Because I swear to God, that is all I have been wanting to do. Every single day from the moment you stepped in our bar and I smelled your perfect flavor from across the room."


New to the world of shifters, Draven is human on the run. A beautiful girl who no one could protect. Domonic is the cold Alpha of the Red Wolf Pack. A brotherhood of twelve wolves that live by twelve rules. Rules which they vowed could NEVER be broken.

Especially - Rule Number One - No Mates

When Draven meets Domonic, he knows that she is his mate, but Draven has no idea what a mate is, only that she has fallen in love with a shifter. An Alpha that will break her heart to make her leave. Promising herself, she will never forgive him, she disappears.

But she doesn’t know about the child she’s carrying or that the moment she left, Domonic decided rules were made to be broken - and now will he ever find her again? Will she forgive him?

Hazel Foster had been married with Rayan Kingston for three years. Even though Hazel knows that Rayan had only married her because her face looked like his dead girlfriend Evleyn Hamper, she still tried her best to maintain her marriage, because she loved him and believed that maybe one day he also fall in love with her.
However, one day Rayan's ex-girlfriend sister's Oliver Hamper kidnapped Hazel and she almost lost her life, but her so-called husband didn't even come to visit at hospital even once, but asked his assistant Simon to warn Hazel not to cause trouble for him.
Hearing assistant's words, Hazel heart turned cold. Just then her phone buzzed. Olivia had posted a new photo on Instagram.
In the picture, Rayan was carrying her upstairs in his arms—like a scene from some romantic movie. You couldn’t see his face, only his back, but Hazel knew that silhouette anywhere. After three years of marriage, she could recognize him by the way his shoulders moved. That was her husband. The man she’d once believed was hers.
The caption read:
“Twisted my ankle, and someone insisted on carrying me.”
Below, the comments flooded in:
“So sweet!”
“Couple goals!”
“Perfect together!”
Hazel’s hands trembled. Tears stung her eyes. While she’d been fighting for her life, her husband had been playing lover to another woman.
She wiped her tears away quickly. He wasn’t worth it. Not a single drop.
Without hesitation, she called her friend. She didn’t explain much—just asked her to prepare divorce papers. She realized that it was time for her to leave this so-called marriage.


At the courthouse.
Hazel held the divorce certificate and left with her held high. Rayan looked at her back, and sneered, thinking she will certainly regret it and come to him soon.
However, what he didn't know was that the one who was going to regret was not her, but him.

On my third anniversary, a stranger's text saved my life but shattered my perfect marriage. My husband is sleeping with my best friend, and my mother-in-law runs a criminal empire.
Trapped in a web of lies, I turn to a cold, powerful lawyer for revenge. I will fake a pregnancy, gather evidence, and destroy them all.
But who is the mysterious stranger guiding me? And what does the lawyer really want?

On the day of her grand engagement, she was betrayed by her fiancé and stepsister and died in a cruel setup. But fate gave her a second chance.

Reborn as a sharp, fearless woman, the once naïve heiress is back for revenge. Those who hurt her will pay—one by one.

Armed with financial brilliance and a ruthless heart, she rises to the top of the business world. But she catches the attention of a powerful CEO who is even more dangerous—cold, calculating, and determined to make her his wife.

Two masterminds collide in a fiery romance filled with schemes, passion, and payback. In this game of love and power, only they are worthy opponents—and perfect partners.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his body tightening as he released his load inside me, spurting, filling my cunt.I remained still, trembling from the aftershocks, he pulled away, leaving me cold and exposed. I watched as he stood, reaching for his clothes with a casual indifference that felt like a slap. “Where are you going?”“Don’t overthink it. It’s just sex, nothing more.”“But… you didn’t mark me.”“Mark you? Why would I do that?”“Dominic… we’re married,” I tried to remind him desperately.He laughed coldly, mocking. “Marriage is just a contract, Samantha. You’re nothing more than a Luna with no wolf, an obligation I’m bound to.”~~~Samantha married Alpha Dominic, the man she’d been hopelessly inlove with, but he couldn’t love her back. He was waiting for his fated mate, not knowing that it was her all along becasue the bond remained hidden, unable to reveal itself due to her wolfless state. And Samantha paid the price—suffering the pain of her husband’s affair with another woman. Broken and betrayed, she ran away from the Silver Crescent Pack, carrying a secret that would change everything: she was pregnant.Six years later, she’s returned, not as the fragile woman she once was but as a fierce mother and the powerful right-hand to Alpha Killian. Her secret? Two five-year-old twins—and a wolf that finally emerged the moment she gave birth.When she unexpectedly crosses paths with Dominic, the Alpha she once loved, her carefully built walls begin to crumble. He’s everything she remembers and more: handsome, dangerous, and shockingly more attractively than she ever thought, drawing her in an inexplicable pull. But Dominic was oblivious to the truth she’s been hiding—the secret of their children, the reason she fled, and the betrayal she still carries deep in her heart.As old sparks reignite and tensions rise, Samantha must keep her past hidden, even as questions about fate, love, and betrayal start to unravel. Will Dominic discover her secret, or will Samantha lose everything she fought so hard to protect?

On the eve of my wedding, I’m kidnapped alongside my stepsister. With a gun to my head, the kidnapper forces my fiancé to choose: her or me. He chooses my stepsister.
Abandoned by my family and stripped of everything, I’m left with nothing.
But then, Dominic Voss, the cold-blooded leader of a dark organization, saves me. “I fell for you at first sight,” he declares. “Be my woman, and I’ll help you get revenge.” With no other options, I agree.
Unexpectedly, Dominic treats me as his one and only, showering me with love and devotion. He confronts my family troubles, punishing my irresponsible father and wicked stepmother.
With his support, I rise from a struggling dancer to a world-renowned artist.
When my ex-fiancé tries to win me back, he’s met with a shocking sight: Dominic publicly proposes!
“Chloe, you’ve loved me for so long…” he begins. I ignoring him, kiss Dominic deeply and respond, “I was blind before, choosing the wrong man, but now I have my true love. Stay away; my husband might just kick your ass.”
Continuously updating, with 2 chapters added daily.

Shana‘s world turned up side down when she realized she was wolfless. However, when Shana got bullied as the wolfless transfer student in a new school, the hot hockey captain suddenly ran to her and lifted her in his arms.


"You were there for me when I needed you. Now, it's my turn to be there for you."
Blinking in astonishment, I found myself staring into the familiar face of Bear—
the chubby-cheeked, infectious-smiled, and brilliantly blue-eyed best friend I had thought I had lost.