8979 Book(s) Related to the return of the king

For two years my mother told the whole town that my sister Zoe was in a hospital in Switzerland.
She shut the heat off in my room with a wrench, because Zoe's ward is kept at sixty-five degrees. My dinner was always cold, because Zoe can't keep solid food down. I never got a birthday cake, because Zoe hasn't had one since she was seventeen.
The day I won the state 1600, she pulled the medal off my neck in the parking lot and didn't say one word the whole drive home. Then she walked me down to the basement, dropped it on the floor, and ground it under her heel until the ribbon came apart. She took a picture of it lying there. I'll send this to your sister. So she knows her little sister is keeping her company.
She came back down that night with a pair of garden shears. I fought her. She got a fistful of my hair, put my head over her knee, and cut it all off, because chemo took Zoe's.
Then I found something down there my mother never meant me to see.
My sister isn't where she said. And she isn't sick.

Becky and I had been best friends since elementary school—inseparable until we both got into this top university and became roommates.
We used to lie in our dorm beds, staring at the ceiling, and swear an oath: when we got married, the gap between our weddings would never exceed one week.
I waited for Steven for four full years.
From freshman year to senior spring, I ghostwrote his papers, nursed his drunk stomach, and endured the rotating cast of girls who always seemed to need him.
Until the night Becky got proposed to—when the whole crowd egged Steven on to drop a knee too, he flung my hand away without a second thought, all because Claire, some sophomore, let out a shriek.
"Not now, Rachel. Claire's hurt. Can you not make this about you for once?"
That was all he left me with before he scooped her up and melted into the crowd.
What he didn't know was that there would never be a "not now" again.
In seven days, I'd be walking down the aisle in a wedding dress, just as promised.
Only the groom—wouldn't be him.

My beast companions are in the middle of my medicinal soak when a soft, dramatic little "ow" drifts in from outside.

Vex, my wolfkin companion, drops my leg. Brom, the bearkin, jerks his hand and a fortune's worth of elixir spills into the water.

They crash through the floor-to-ceiling window and bolt outside without a single glance back — all for some ordinary girl.

I'm still staring at the broken glass when a stream of glowing blue text pops up out of nowhere.

[The main character Ivy literally fake-tripped in the garden and these two idiots jumped out a window for her!]
[Honestly, the original side character Lillia had it so rough. Backstabbed by her own companions, dies a miserable death, and they end up in Ivy's entourage…]
[And she never even figures out what's happening. Just suffers through the whole thing without a clue.]

I read through all of it, and one thought slowly rises: seriously?

If my companions won't behave, just get new ones. Simple.

I go straight to my mom, and before I've even finished talking, she's already pulling me toward the door.

"Any beast that turns on its master isn't worth keeping. Come on, baby — let's go pick you out some new ones. Mom's paying, so make it the most expensive ones they've got."

On my wedding day, I ran, still in my wedding dress not because I wanted to, but because my mother had a car accident.
By the time I got to the hospital, Lucia Vitale, Finn’s mother, threw a five-million-dollar check at me and told me to leave her son.
Before I could even respond, the door was kicked open.
Finn stood in the doorway.
He raised his phone and played a forged recording.
“My mom needs the money… I know I’m not good enough for him… I’ll leave him…”
He didn’t listen to my explanation.
He dragged me out of the hospital room, shoved me into a car, and took me to the Vitale estate on Long Island.
The room he locked me in had bars on the windows.
There were listening devices hidden in the walls.
“You’re my wife,” he said coldly.
“What’s the difference between a wife and a prisoner?”
For six months, I endured his imprisonment and endured him bringing women to the room next to mine.
The women he brought home.
Every night, their moans echoed through the walls.
Meanwhile, Finn was on a private island, celebrating his mistress Isabella Moretti’s birthday.
A forty-million-dollar island.
A heart lit up in the sky by drones.
Isabella said,“he never loved you. You were just a mistake.”
I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hold on.
But I knew one thing: escape, or face death.

During routine rounds, I never gave Linus Crewe a second thought. Nineteen years old, diagnosed with persistent hallucinatory disorder, just another trust fund kid tossed into the psych ward like garbage by his own family.
But that day, he locked eyes with me and claimed that the moment his skin touched someone else's, he could see their deepest, darkest secrets.
I scoffed. As a female doctor who married into money, harbored a thirst for revenge, and kept a secret lover on the side, someone seeing through my facade was my ultimate nightmare.
I thought he was just playing mind games.
Until he recounted, word for word, things even my husband didn't know. He just smiled and said: Then tell me, Dr. Hollister... why is your heart racing when you look at me?

In this house, my son isn't allowed to call his father "Papa."

Vincenzo Marchesi is a mafia Don. He doesn't do fatherhood. He didn't even look at Leo the day he was born, simply because he never wanted us. He forces the boy to exclusively call him "Sir."

But tonight, Vincenzo broke his own rules. He stumbled through the door, chuckled, and scooped Leo into the air. "Mama, look!" Leo gasped, his eyes lighting up. "Why is Sir so happy?"

I walked close enough to smell the whiskey. But beneath it was the sickeningly sweet scent of vanilla perfume. Isabella's perfume.

His first love—the woman he actually wanted to marry—was back.

I pulled Leo out of Vincenzo's arms. Vincenzo didn't even try to stop me. He just rubbed his temples and walked past us to his bedroom.

"Sir is happy because a very special woman came back to town today," I said, putting both hands on my son's shoulders. "He finally got what he wanted. We have to pack, Leo."

Leo furiously wiped his tears away with his sleeve. He stood perfectly still before looking up. "Mama, can I give Sir three more chances before we run away?"

"Yes," I answered.

I will let Vincenzo have his three chances. But once my son's heart is completely broken, we will walk out the door.

This was the most miserable Christmas I had ever experienced.
On Christmas Eve night, my husband brought his mistress home and demanded that I, his pregnant wife, leave with nothing.
On this day, I lost my husband and also lost the child in my womb...

They pulled my husband Beckett’s car out of the Avery River at four in the morning.
I was sitting in the reception area of the Ardenvale police station, having waited all night. Everyone thought I was just the pathetic wife—the one who had been humiliated at her mother-in-law’s birthday banquet, went home early, and panicked when her husband never returned.
No one knew that from the moment I dialed 911, this was exactly the news I had been waiting for.
He was dead. And I was the one who made it happen.

On the night my grandmother died, my husband Kael came home trailing blood.
His leather motorcycle jacket was soaked dark red, yet he flashed a savage grin: "I wiped the floor with those bastards tonight!"
For three years, he had treated our home as nothing more than a pit stop between reckless street races.
I’d finally had enough. "After the funeral, we're getting a divorce."
Before the words fully left my mouth, my phone rang. It was his riding partner, Lunn, his voice choking with sobs: "Sera... Kael drove off the cliff tonight. They only recovered bloody pieces of his helmet!"
But the "dead man" was standing right in front of me...

I am a princess of the deep sea. For love, I abandoned my crown and used ocean magic to help him rise from a penniless sailor to a duke of immense wealth.

On our tenth wedding anniversary, he slapped me in front of all the guests, tore the Ocean Crown from my head to place it on his mistress, and ripped away my reverse scales: "I'm sick of this freakish marriage to a monster!" Blood flowed down the coral cuts, and my unborn child miscarried in the humiliation.

The moment the first reverse scale fell from my chest, I forgot our first kiss. At the same time, his three gold-laden ships mysteriously sank on the windless sea.

The Abyssal Pact has been activated: seven reverse scales correspond to seven memories. With each scale that falls, I forget him a little more, while he loses all the wealth he gained through me.

My husband often made me suffer for the sake of my younger sister, even divorcing me because of her.
My parents gave all their love to my sister and neglected me.
My husband and parents even had my sister perform surgery on me.
But they didn't know that my sister had no idea how to perform surgery.
It didn't matter though, because I no longer cared.
On Christmas Day, when they were celebrating, they finally remembered me.
But I was already dead.

For a hundred years, I used my blood to suppress Grant’s Dragon Frenzy, helping him rise to become Head of the Gold Dragon Clan.

The day of his Ascension Ceremony was also supposed to be the day of our Bonding Ceremony.

Instead, in front of guests from every supernatural race, he named Lacey, a Light Fae, as his Consort. He said I could stay at his side, but only as his Personal Guard, without so much as a title.

I swallowed my pride and begged him to reconsider.

In return, the dragon army razed the wolves’ territory and slaughtered nearly my entire pack.

As the final drops of blood drained from my body, I saw Lacey nestled in Grant’s arms, laughing without a care in the world.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of Grant’s Ascension Ceremony.

This time, I wanted to see how long he could keep his throne without me.

For five years, I had turned Preston Tanner from a broke kid who could barely afford tuition into one of Silicon Valley's hottest young founders.
I thought we would do exactly what we had promised back in that garage—take our AI healthcare startup public, ring the opening bell together, and get married.
Until today.
At the product launch that would determine whether we landed our Series A, Preston stood before the press and credited the core algorithm patent I had spent seventy-two sleepless hours developing to a girl who couldn't even write Python.
"Sloane, you're already my fiancée," he said. "Willow needs this patent to strengthen her green-card application."
Staring at his utterly self-righteous face, I felt sick.
I didn't know when it had happened, but somewhere along the way, he had rotted from the inside out.
And if he was rotten, it was time to throw him away.

On the day my fiancé, Nicholas, was supposed to marry me, he married his childhood sweetheart instead.

Vanessa was pregnant with another man's child. Without a husband's name to shield her, she would be cast out of the Russo family's protection.

"It's only until the baby is born," he told me. "It's a signature on paper. I won't even put a ring on her. You've waited seven years, Isabel. Can't you wait a few more months?"

…

Three years later, I returned as the Don's wife, pregnant with our second child.

At the airport, Nicholas stood holding a sign that read "Mrs. Crane."

…

"Come back, and we can have the wedding we always planned. I'm willing to give you a child."

Before I could answer, the Don walked in with our son in his arms. "Mommy!"

Seven years of deep affection, expectations with a pregnant belly, and all I got was his betrayal in marriage and false promises. I gambled my youth and sincerity, only to end up with an absurd scam. After waking up, we owe each other nothing and will have no more ties.

Four years ago, Giovanni dumped me in front of everyone at an upscale restaurant. Two weeks later, he was engaged to Rosanna. I made a fool of myself begging on his doorstep, became the laughingstock of Ferro City.
Four years later, he runs into me at Casa Valentino, assumes I'm destitute, and offers me a job as a cleaner for him.
What he doesn't know is that the plainly dressed woman standing before him is the wife of Don Alessandro Valentino—the man the entire underworld bows to.

For eight years, I loved the boy next door. When my parents died, his family took me in. And on my twenty-first birthday, Grayson Hale finally kissed me.
That same night, I heard him laughing with his frat brothers.
“Easiest five hundred bucks I’ve ever made.”
I was just a bet.
When his ex came back, he took her side and humiliated me in front of everyone. So while he got ready to propose to her, I packed two suitcases and got on a plane to New York.
Now he’s followed me across the country, begging me to come home.
But this girl next door is done waiting.
This time, I walk away. And someone better is already waiting for me.

Since I was ten, he told me to call him brother. But brothers don't look at you like that.
My life had only Daniel Wilson in it. He was my guardian, my savior, my world.
"Call me brother," he said, but he forbade me from dating anyone else. He kept me in his manor like a bird in a gilded cage. He promised that when I turned twenty-one, the title of "sister" would change to "wife."
I waited. I obeyed. I loved him with a devotion that bordered on obsession.
But on my twenty-first birthday, he brought her home.
"Julie, meet Lena. She's... special to me."
He introduced his childhood crush to me, his "sister," while holding her hand. The way he looked at her was soft, gentle—the way he used to look at me before she arrived.
"You're just a foster sister," he reminded me coldly when I cried. "Don't cross the line."
The line? He blurred the lines for twelve years! He made me dependent on him, made me believe we were destined, only to discard me when the "real" owner of his heart returned.
Fine. If I'm just a sister, then I'll leave.
But why is he chasing me now, begging me to come back, saying he can't sleep without me in the house?
"I'm not your sister anymore, Daniel. And I'm certainly not your wife."

Carlisle said that he would marry me when he became the godfather.
Gritting my teeth through the pain, I dug the bullet out of my arm and bandaged the wound out of habit. By the time I finished the whole process, I was already drenched in cold sweat from the agony.
The last candidate had been secretly taken care of by me ten minutes ago.
I returned to the dessert shop and hid the ring I had spent over a month designing inside a strawberry mousse cake.
Carlisle loves the cakes I make by hand the most. Tonight, I’m going to propose to him—I can’t wait for him to marry me anymore.
"Boss, one strawberry mousse cake, please make it quick."
I looked up at the customer who had just walked in and immediately lowered my head, afraid she might recognize me.
It was my stepsister, Karina.
"We’re closed. No cakes today."
Karina pointed at the cake I had just packed. "Isn’t there one right here? I’ll take this one. I’ll pay double."
I was about to refuse when Karina’s phone rang. "Sweetheart, why aren’t you back yet? Our son is getting impatient."
Karina put the money on the counter, grabbed the cake, and walked away. I didn’t stop her.
Because I saw the person on her video call—it was my fiancé, Carlisle.

"I, Dominic Thorne, hereby reject you as my fated mate." Those words shattered my soul in front of the entire pack. Eighteen years old, and I still couldn't complete a full shift—the "defective reject" everyone loved to mock. But what nobody knew was the monster sleeping inside me. When a stranger with golden eyes found me bleeding in the forest and whispered, "You're not broken. You're something the world hasn't seen in a thousand years," I realized my rejection was only the beginning. Something ancient is waking up inside me. And it's hungry.

For 300 days, Wendy Bailey believed she was building a family. An orphan who finally found love, she swallowed her husband's "pregnancy vitamins" like sacred vows—until she overheard the truth.

She wasn't a wife. She was a womb.

Aaron Hill's real plan: extract his heir, then bury her in a mental institution—clearing the throne of Mrs. Hill for his precious first love, Aria.

"Once she's on the delivery table, she dies after giving birth."

He wanted a son. He wanted her gone.

But Wendy already dialed the clinic. The abortion is scheduled.

Now the bleeding orphan he treats like a dog is about to teach the Hill dynasty a lesson: a vessel can shatter—and take everything down with it.

How much will it cost Aaron when he realizes he destroyed the only woman who ever truly loved him?

Revenge is coming. And it's wearing his ring.

For three years, the man I met online has called me Mistress. I've never seen his face.

Tonight, a bullet tears through my shoulder at my mafia family's welcome dinner. I hide in a linen closet, but the hitman follows me. A silver tag slips from under his shirt: Vee's Good Boy. I gave it to him. He doesn't know the woman behind the door is the one he's been begging to meet.

I text him an order. His gun vanishes from the doorway. Then his footsteps come back.

Elroy has severe OCD. In the ten years we've been together, he's never allowed me to eat in his car.
On our tenth anniversary, we made plans to watch the stars together.
But just as I reached the mountaintop, my phone rang—it was him.
"Something came up at work. I can't make it tonight. You go ahead and enjoy the view."
The moment he hung up, I saw his female classmate's post about returning to the country.
Catalina was sitting in his passenger seat, holding a half-eaten piece of cake in her hands.
【Someone was afraid I'd get hungry coming back so late, so he specially brought me this little cake～】
Another picture showed Catalina's shoes—still on—planted firmly on the passenger seat.
【He says I'm the only exception to his OCD～ I can do whatever I want in his car, hehe.】
I looked up at the twinkling stars above me, a bitter smile tugging at my lips.
This was the tenth time he'd abandoned me.
Every single anniversary without fail, this "female classmate" of his would show up.
I once tried to gently tell him: "I don't want to be interrupted like this every time."
Elroy looked at me with displeasure. "Interrupted? Catalina is my friend. Can you not be so petty?"
The cold wind howled across the mountaintop. Catalina's words stuck in my heart like a thorn, stinging until my eyes grew wet.
After ten years, I'm done with this relationship.

I would often find myself staring into my son Leon's eyes, lost in thought.
One, a deep azure blue, was inherited from his father. The other, however, was amber.
I couldn't understand it. While Leon's lineage is indeed mixed, his other eye should have been silver—the mark of my bloodline, the symbol of the royal werewolf lineage.
Yet it wasn't. This question had haunted me for five years.
Then, by chance, I came across an ancient book in my husband Carlisle's study. It detailed the hereditary rules of eye color for the royal werewolf line:
Regardless of which race they intermarry with, the direct descendants of the royal werewolves will always inherit at least one distinctive eye.
This meant that a son I bore would definitely have silver pupils.
My hands began to tremble uncontrollably. I shared my fear—that we might have brought home the wrong child—with Carlisle.
He flew into a rage, snatched the book from my hands, and threw it into the fireplace.
"Selene, are you doubting my fidelity? Or suspecting that our son isn't your own? If Leon knew you doubted him, his heart would be shattered."
Carlisle stormed out, slamming the door behind him. Watching his retreating figure, my heart grew cold, piece by piece.
His reaction confirmed my worst fear, the one I desperately wanted to deny.
With the full moon just seven days away, I decided to abandon the plan of taking Leon back to the royal werewolf clan.

“End the ceremony,” Prince Kael ordered, his cloak wrapped around another woman’s shoulders.

Our six-year-old son stood beneath the moon glass, wings trembling, the royal binding already burning under his skin. If the ritual stopped now, Rowan could be scarred for life.

Kael did not even look at him.

So I picked up the sacred blade and pressed it to the bond mark in my palm.

“You wanted freedom,” I said. “Take it.”

"Stay in the apartment," he said, straightening his tie as I fixed his collar. "I'll be back tonight." Then he walked out the door — straight to his wedding. What he didn't know was that my flight was already booked.
For three years I was his canary: locked in a penthouse, the only woman he let close when he bled, forgotten the moment another woman entered the room. I watched him let her wipe the blood from his face. I lost our child alone on a cold floor. I apologized to the woman who destroyed my mother's watch.
I was done waiting.
When the bells of Saint Patrick's rang out across Manhattan, he was welcoming his bride — and I finally flew out of my cage.

"Brielle, I need money... My bone cancer is worse. Without treatment, I won't make it past next month."

For Cole's words, I gave up everything—my billionaire father, my inheritance, my name. I became a crime scene cleaner, the most degrading job in New York.

Twenty hours a day, I scrubbed blood and rotting flesh off apartment floors. I even sold my own blood. All to save the man I loved.

One million dollars. Finally, I had it.

I rushed to the five-star hotel, clutching the warm check in my trembling hands. Pushed open the presidential suite door.

And froze.

Cole—healthy, glowing, dressed in an expensive suit—knelt before Delilah, New York's newest socialite. A diamond ring glittered between his fingers.

"Babe, that corpse-smelling idiot sent more money today," he laughed. "That bag you wanted? Let's go buy it right now."

The check fell from my hands.

Something inside me shattered.

And something darker took its place.

Following Aunt Helen’s sudden death and the exhausting funeral arrangements, strange things began happening at home.
A lingering warmth on an empty sofa. Faint footsteps echoing in the hallway late at night.
I couldn't shake the creeping certainty that a third person was hiding in the house with my husband and me.
My husband brushed it off, insisting it was nothing more than grief and severe insomnia playing tricks on my mind, and told me not to overthink it.
Then, one morning, he walked through the front door, briefcase in hand, his eyes heavy from an obvious all-nighter. "The institute's data was a total disaster," he explained with a tired sigh. "I was stuck at the lab all night."
I froze, completely at a loss.
"But you came home last night," I stared at him, my voice trembling. "We were in bed, making love for half the night."
He frowned, looking at me with the cold, clinical detachment of a doctor examining a patient. "Maeve, I didn't set foot in this house last night. You need to stop imagining things..."

Terminal. One month, maybe less.
I folded the report and put it in my bag. The doctor asked if there was family I could call. I told him there wasn't.
My husband rang while I was crouched against the hospital wall, waiting for the pain to pass. I could hear waves behind his voice. He didn't ask what the doctor said. He wanted to know why his money hadn't come through yet. His first love needed it for her art show.
So I sent him all of it. My savings, and the last of what my mother left me. Ten years, settled in one transfer.
Then my legs went, and a pair of freezing hands caught me before I hit the ground.
The pain stopped the second he touched me.
"Your kind calls us reapers. Give me your soul, and I'll keep the pain off you until the end."
Weston took one look at him and decided I'd hired an actor to make him jealous.
He thinks I'm trying to win him back.

The last thing I did before I died was lick dew off a rusted pipe.
Ninety days earlier, my fiancé Bastien promised he'd come back for me. He said three months in the Sahara would teach me not to be jealous of Posey—the girl I'd pulled from a refugee camp and raised as my own sister.
He didn't know the water ran out in the first week. He didn't know bandits broke my bones. He didn't care enough to find out.
While I lay dying on a rotting bed with a shattered leg, he was in Manhattan, sliding a pink diamond onto Posey's finger.
I died alone. But I didn't stay gone.
My soul followed a stolen necklace across the ocean, right back to his penthouse—just in time for the engagement party, the champagne toast, and the moment my body arrived at the door.

My name is Charles Cole, a blind lactation therapist.
Of course, apart from pretending to be blind, all my skills are genuine.
Ophelia sat on the bed and slowly took off her top right in front of me, her beautiful figure revealing its spring allure under the golden warm sunlight.
“Mr. Cole, let's begin!”
I nodded, reaching forward with both hands, yet I didn't dare show the slightest unusual expression on my face.
The reason was simple: Ophelia's husband, Russell, was standing coldly right behind me at that moment.

In her past life, she gave everything to her brothers, but all they saw was the fake heiress. They even went as far as turning her life into a living hell for the sake of that imposter, leaving her to die in agony.

Reborn and unyielding, she cut all ties with her family and set her sights on revenge.

Want her to return to the family?

Not a chance! She’s already had a whirlwind marriage and transferred her name to a disabled tycoon’s registry!

Want her to call them "brother"?

As if!

Let them cry, let them regret, let them beg for forgiveness—she’d just laugh in their faces!

Let them suffer, let them kneel, let their world fall apart—she’d be front row, popcorn in hand.

I once believed that my inability to bear children was my original sin.
So I endured my Alpha husband Ethan’s excessive favoritism toward our“old friend,” Lyra,
and swallowed the growing hatred of our adopted son, Lucas.

Until our eighth marking anniversary, when I obtained irrefutable proof—
Confirmed: Lyra is the biological mother of Lucas.

That very night, Lyra sent me a “family portrait” of the three of them.

Letter by letter, I typed my reply:
May the Moon Goddess bless you.

Ethan kicked the door open in fury.
Lucas called me a “bad mom.”

In that moment, my heart died—and with it came a strange calm.

I took out the long-sealed mate bond termination agreement and placed it on the table.

“I’ve already signed the last page,” I said evenly. “If you have any questions, my lawyer will contact you.”

Five years ago, my biological parents brought me back from the orphanage to the Blue Moon Pack, and suddenly, I was the so-called true Alpha heir.
But my return ruined everything for the fake Alpha heir, Yolanda.
She teamed up with some rogue wolves to kidnap me, then ran me down with her own car, crushing my legs. I went from being the pack’s golden girl to a cripple stuck in a wheelchair.
I thought my parents would get justice for me. I thought my fated mate, Joseph, actually loved me.
But five years later, I found out the truth: Yolanda never died.
My biological parents hid her away, and she's been living a rich, easy life. Joseph already had pups with her, and the only reason he married me was to get me to sign a letter forgiving Yolanda.
Even my treatment for the past five years? A total setup.
They never wanted me to heal. They never wanted me to walk again. They just wanted me helpless, someone they could control forever.

When Alpha Asher’s first love, Daphne, started putting on a show again, I wasn’t surprised.
Instead, I quietly sat beside his best friend, Alpha Lycan.
When they weren’t around, Alpha Lycan and I ended up sleeping together.
As I sank into waves of heated pain, I couldn’t help but think—no wonder people love affairs.
Because of a party game, Alpha Asher was forced to post on Instagram: “I’ll only ever love Daphne.”
I told him I wanted to break the bond.
“All because of a silly post?”
“Yes. Hurry up—I’m getting married to someone else. Don’t waste my time.”

Scott grabbed Vivian's arm as she turned away from him. “Don’t you ever walk out on me like that again!” he said angrily.

Vivian let her eyes settle on his hand for a few seconds before she yanked her arm away from his grip. Noticing that she missed his touch, she shook the thought away. “The only time you have the right to tell me what to do is during working hours, and the last time I checked…. No one is working right now."

His eyebrow lifted, as if calling her bluff." Really?" he asked. One side of his lips curled up in a smirk.

Vivian didn't care. She was finding it very hard to keep her mouth sealed tonight, and she didn't even try to stop herself." Yes. I am not your employee right now so I can do exactly as I please!”

“That's funny?” He said, but there was nothing funny about the look in his eyes. His mouth hardened with lust. “Well, since we're going with that, it also means that I can do the same, right?”

Without giving her a chance to respond, he grabbed her waist and he pulled her right up against him—so close that she could feel every hard muscle in his body. His body heat warmed her, and his palm settled at the base of her spine. She couldn't think straight… Not when he bent and nipped at her bottom lip, then sucked it, soothing and enhancing the sting before returning to devour her mouth. As if she was something he knew he shouldn’t have but couldn’t resist.

“Let's stop playing games,” he said, "We both want each other…. Why don't you come up with me so we can get this thing… whatever it is… over with?"

SYNOPSIS

Arabella never asked for the life she had now.

Arabella Montclair is a 24 year old girl who is struggling to put a roof over her head and protect her younger sisters. Losing her job was the last thing she needed until a desperate situation leads her to an unexpected arrangement;becoming roommates with two dangerously irresistible men.

Nikolai Sterling, a 26 year old Billonaire CEO,who built his entire empire by keeping people at distance. Relationships seemed like distractions to him and he has no room or intention of making room for anyone until Arabella moves in and awakens an obsession he can’t control.

Lucien Cross who is Nikolai’s best friend and protective bodyguard knows Arabella is off limits but unfortunately every instincts in him is telling him to protect her, posses her and keep her close.

Two powerful young men and one irresistible young woman.

As attraction turn into something deeper and far more dangerous, Arabella must decide whether to run from the two men who want her or surrender to the connection between all three of them

Because sometimes,the greatest temptation is the one you were never suppose to want

Lena Harper has always been invisible, a nobody from the wrong side of town struggling to survive her mother's string of bad decisions. But when her mother marries a mysterious billionaire, Lena's life takes a dramatic turn. Suddenly, she's thrust into the gilded halls of Crescent Ridge Academy, a school for the elite... and the dangerously untamed.

What Lena doesn’t know is that Crescent Ridge is a sanctuary for pure-blood werewolves, where ancient rivalries and primal instincts dictate everything. On her first day, she crosses paths with Ethan Wolfe, the cold and untouchable heir to the most powerful pack; Liam Blackwood, his wickedly charming second-in-command; and her stepbrother, Caleb Rivers, who hides secrets as dark as the forest surrounding the academy.

What begins as heated animosity between Lena and the three alphas takes a sinister turn when her long-suppressed visions resurface, revealing a bond that ties her to all of them, a bond older than time itself. Her scent is intoxicating, her presence inescapable, and her gift as a seer marks her as both their salvation and their curse.

As Crescent Ridge becomes a battlefield of desire and danger, Lena must navigate forbidden passions, ruthless power plays, and a destiny she never asked for. But with the wolves circling closer and her visions hinting at a catastrophic betrayal, she begins to wonder:

Can she survive being the heart of their obsession, or will the bond that draws them together be the very thing that tears her apart?

Freya was once a loving child until tragedy struck. Fate sealing her destiny. Her parents death is one she will never forget.
She not only lost her parents but the pack turned their back on her including her six once protective brothers.
Being abused a tortured finally took it's toll on the young Freya deciding that she had enough she ran away in hopes of a better life.
But what will acure when she crosses paths with the Rogue king?

Three super-rich, New York Royalty, powerful, and notorious with women. Three stories of how they take charge of a billion-dollar empire, fulfill their women’s dream, and find true love in unexpected ways.
The life of ambitious and notorious playboy CEO is shocked to the core when a woman in a death bed has him promised one thing—the very least he’s expected—or shall he say, even the hell freezes—to get married for 1095 days.
It’s the last thing he wants. Well, he has everything, literally, but who can resist the beauty of a town girl with big blue eyes staring at him? He starts fantasizing about her. But there’s something from his past that might link him to her, and that can change whatever they feel forever.
It’s always been her—the redhead, best friend is off-limits. Years later, he never expects that she becomes his assistant—the now gorgeous, smart, irresistible, and… cold. But something’s telling him that he’s willing to bend the rules if it means to have his best friend back and maybe… even more.

Lisa Winston, a beautiful and hardworking waitress in Pennsylvania, meets billionaire Williams O'Connell, who she mistakenly believes is poor after he can't pay for his meal due to a stolen phone. Touched by her kindness, Williams becomes interested in her. Lisa's mother needs a costly surgery, and despite her desperation, a lecherous billionaire named Mr. Kendrick tries to take advantage of her. Williams rescues Lisa, leading to an unplanned night together.

At 23, Aeryn is already making waves in the scientific community—fair, bold, and driven by a relentless passion for the unknown. As part of a multinational team, she's been dedicated to the pursuit of one of humanity’s greatest questions: are we alone in the universe? The answer seems to be within reach when they pick up signals from a distant planet, confirming the existence of alien life. But as the team prepares for the next step into a mission that requires sending a human to this otherworldly realm, they abandon Aeryn, leaving her behind just as the stakes reach their peak.

On the alien planet, Alex is as king,a being of immense strength and unparalleled powers. Yet, there’s a void, a missing piece that threatens not just his rule, but the survival of his entire kingdom. His powers are vast but insufficient until he gets coupled and consummates the bond with his chosen bride. Without this, his powers remain incomplete, and the very existence of his people teeters on the brink of extinction. The search for his queen becomes a race against time, with the fate of his kingdom hanging in the balance.

In my past life, I personally dug up two alien meteorites, handing the blue one that granted "Frost Mastery" to my childhood friend, Mike. He repaid me by sealing me inside an ice wall, cursing me to "die like a piece of trash" in the minus 70-degree blizzard.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the initial blast site.
This time, I didn't even spare him a glance; I stuffed both meteorites into my pocket.
I transformed a missile silo into a doomsday bunker, brought my parents inside, and stockpiled ten years' worth of supplies.
When Mike arrived with a gang of thugs to smash my door down, I stood in the warm command center, watching half his face rot with frostbite on the monitor.
I didn't open the door.
This time, I am sending back the despair of my past life tenfold.

Kaelani spent her life believing she was wolfless.
Cast out by her pack. Forgotten by the Lycans.
She lived among humans—quiet, invisible, tucked away in a town no one looked at twice.

But when her first heat comes without warning, everything changes.

Her body ignites. Her instincts scream. And something primal stirs beneath her skin—
summoning a big, bad Alpha who knows exactly how to quench her fire.

When he claims her, it’s ecstasy and ruin.

For the first time, she believes she’s been accepted.
Seen.
Chosen.

Until he leaves her the next morning—
like a secret never to be spoken.

But Kaelani is not what they thought.
Not wolfless. Not weak.
There is something ancient inside her. Something powerful. And it’s waking.

And when it does—
they’ll all remember the girl they tried to erase.

Especially him.

She’ll be the dream he keeps chasing… the one thing that ever made him feel alive.

Because secrets never stay buried.
And neither do dreams.

I'm proud to say that this is book 3 to the Judas series. It follows the story of how the Alpha's of the infamous pack known as The Black Jewel Pack find their second chance mate after waiting over nine years to see if they had another one out there.

And since Zachary killed their first chance at having true love with a mate, can Levi and Jordan get him to see that he too deserves to be just as happy with this new opportunity to show the Moon Goddess how sorry he was for killing his first mate?

Or will he stand by his rejection and pretend she don't exist, and that he isn't envious of both his brothers for having what he craves more than life itself. The love of a woman.

But what will happen when he finally gives in and something happens to her? What happens when his old nemesis comes back to remind him why he can't ever be happy?

The man who was married to his first mate when he killed her before his eyes, the leader of thr Hunter's Rebellion against all Werewolves and Lycans alike.

Can the boys save her before it's too late? Or will they have to call in back up from people they didn't think he would need to call?

Follow the story to find out how Zachary, Lei and Jordan fare in this twister of a story.

Sex has always been fine. Rachel Turner is 29, and she's done with being fine.
When her cousin lets slip a whispered story about three masked men, an invite code and a form that asks what you really want, Rachel does the reckless thing. She tells the truth, all 14 pages of it. Every craving she's never said out loud. Every hard limit. One stop word: lighthouse.
Jimmy, Ricky and Hank are ex-army security men with a very private side venture. They're invited only and vetted to the bone, and they turn down 9 out of 10 forms. They give a woman four days to be watched, hunted and taken exactly the way she asked. They have one rule they've never broken: when the window closes, they leave.
Then they read Rachel's form.
From 12:01 a.m. Tuesday to midnight Friday, she belongs to North, East and South. They find her in her own bed, then on a mirrored floor in a canal house on the Isle of Capri. They chase her through a twilight market, 20 metres behind her, always there. Every limit is honoured, and every yes is pushed further than she dreamed. The more of herself Rachel hands them, the harder it gets for three men who swore they'd never stay.
But someone else has been watching. A man inside their own company knows exactly what they've been doing after dark, and he wants a cut.
Four days. Three masks. One woman who finally asked for everything.
The window always closes. This time, nobody wants to leave.
When They Come is an explicit, high-heat why-choose-romance set on the Gold Coast. It has consensual non-consent, masked men, stalking play and fierce aftercare, and it builds to a happily ever after for all four of them. 18+ only.

Broken and ready for a new adventure, Anna runs from the city, runs from soon to be Alpha, Jake, he vowed to force her next to him whether or not she found her mate. Before Jake leaves her alone, he drugs her and marks her leaving her in heat, when her mate Micah finds her, he is torn about what he should do. When she becomes pregnant, a mark appears on her neck, but it's not her mates. Jake comes to collect her saying the baby is his, he forces her next to him. Threatening her unborn baby and true mate. She obeys only to keep them safe. Micah brings Jake to his knees before he rips his heart out, saving Anna and their unborn pup.

What is the happiest day of any woman, her wedding day, right? But it wasn't the case with Pamela Grayson. She sobbed before, during, and after the wedding.
It is difficult for her to comprehend why her parents would force her into a marriage with a man who is in a coma, that doesn't have the slightest probability of ever coming out of it.
But what can she do than accept it? After all her sister had seduced her fiance and was pregnant with his child. Her dowry was going to be used to sponsor an elaborate wedding for her sister and her supposed fiance.
But the man she got married to was even more ruthless and cruel to her than her family when he came out of the coma. Forced to terminate her surrogate babies, he divorced her and sever every tie with her.
But fate brought them to cross paths again. Now a princess, a heiress, and the CEO of the largest cooperation in the continent:
What does the future hold for them both, and their quadruplets which Louis Hayden thought had been flushed away?
A story of fate, a second chance, karma, and revenge!!!

“Let’s get a divorce.”
After three years of marriage, my husband’s first love came back. With his own lips, he ended our three-year mating bond.
Just like that, I was thrown away and became the pack’s favorite joke—the unmarked, unacknowledged “temporary mate.”
I hid the fact that I was already carrying his pup and disappeared from his world completely. I thought that as long as I stepped aside, he and his fated mate would finally get the happiness they wanted.
I never imagined that when we met again, his eyes would be bloodshot as he demanded:
“Whose child is this?”
It was only later that I found out: from the moment I vanished, that aloof, untouchable Alpha went completely off the rails, tearing through every pack’s territory, searching for me like a madman.

Last time, the world ended.

My fallen comrade left me the fortress he spent his life building. I hesitated, let his niece’s boyfriend inside, and that mercy killed everyone. They took the warehouse, cut the power, and put a knife in my gut. I crawled into the underground control room and triggered the self-destruct protocol he’d hidden for the worst day. The entire fortress went up in flames.

Then I opened my eyes—one month before disaster.

The gate was still closed. They were still outside. Everything could still be fixed.

This time, I set one rule at the door: anyone who opens it without approval is a traitor.

She cried like before, begged me to let her boyfriend in, called him the man she loved—and when I refused, she reached for the controls anyway.

So I grabbed her wrist and threw her out with them.