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He was supposed to be my saviour.

Julian Blackwood was the golden boy of high society. The billionaire saint who pulled me out of debt.

I owed him my life.

Until he decided he actually wanted it.

He asked for three things.

A single signature.
Six months of submission.
A forced move into his penthouse to play the role of his perfect, devoted prize.

"Julian" thinks he cornered a helpless girl who will just smile and obey.

He is about to find out I bite back.

So I crossed his threshold with a plan: to tear an arrogant rich man apart.

But I was dead wrong.

The man waiting for me behind those closed doors is ruthless.

He is dangerously possessive.

And the saint I thought I signed my life over to is nothing but a brilliant illusion.

The ruthless Lycan king never anticipated the feelings for her.

He murdered her parents and kidnapped her—she was supposed to be a tool for his kingdom's empowerment. Now, he'll stop at nothing to protect her, even if it means spilling blood.


A figure waited in the shadows. He smirks upon hearing that a baby girl had been born of both a Kolana wolf and a Mattra wolf. He had in his mind to kidnap the baby and kill the parents, the whole pack, if necessary. He knew this baby could bring him more power than ever imaginable.

He drew his dagger out of its sheath on his hip and struck fast swiftly and quietly plunged the dagger into the Alpha's heart and turned his attention to the Luna.

He smiled and disappeared into the shadows with his prize.


He named the baby girl Symphony.

By the time that Symphony was quickly becoming an adventurous child. She had grown an attachment to Alexander over the past year and soon followed him everywhere. She loved to sit in his office while he was working.

He hated the fact that things had begun to change in his mind about her since she was growing up.

Knowing that he caused Symphony pain was more than he could stand. He really was starting to care for her more than just the need for power but as someone he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

He didn't understand these feelings. This felt stronger than that.

If Lycans could have mates, Alexander swore this is what it would feel like.


Symphony is a wolf who is the only one of her kind, a hybrid Kolana/Mattra wolf. She has special abilities that put her in the crosshairs of many who want to use her because of her powers.

Alexander is the king of the lycans who kidnapped Symphony as a baby, using her powers to make him the most powerful and feared king and rule the world.

I married a billionaire heir who could neither walk nor speak.
On our wedding night, he signed for "separate rooms." I turned and dismissed the staff: "My husband can't wait."
When we met his mother, he furiously signed to complain about my bossiness. I translated his gestures into romantic sweet nothings, coaxing her into giving me strings of family jewels.
At the country club with my girls, I showed off my ridiculously handsome husband. I even pushed his wheelchair right up to the goalpost and made him my goalkeeper.
He struggled, glaring at me, his eyes full of humiliation—but that broken look only made me more addicted. I was entirely captivated by his face, fully believing I had hit the jackpot.
Until one morning, tangled up in the sheets, I caught him firmly propping up his own body.
My blood ran cold. I rolled over and bolted.
A deep, raspy male voice echoed behind me.
In that instant, I realized the ruthless, commanding heir had returned...

I barely escaped the Valley of the Dread Dragon, my magic completely drained. A betrothal awaited me in Winterhold. But the moment I arrived, my fiancé Arthur refused to acknowledge who I was. He stood by and watched as his socalled true love Elena stole my wand, scarred my face, and swore to strip me bare and parade me through the streets. He thought he stood above me, blind to exactly whom he was defying — I held his entire family in my power. When my brother Damian arrived, he did not merely rescue me. He gave me the chance to pay back every wound and humiliation I had suffered, one by one.

A bored demon out for a good time came after me and my worst enemy, and locked us in a room with no door.

The rules are simple. We each have to confess three secrets the other one has no idea about, for his amusement, and only then do we get out.

Weston raises an eyebrow, that lazy, punchable smirk on his face.

"After ten years of being at each other's throats, what could you possibly still be hiding from me?"

He doesn't know I never actually hated him.

He doesn't know that three months ago, at that masquerade, the woman he slept with was me.

And he definitely doesn't know the baby I'm carrying is his.

On my birthday, I lost my pup from overwork, and at the same moment, a photo popped up on social media—my boyfriend kissing another woman under fireworks.

The caption read: "Found my lost mate."

I finally understood: I was nothing more than a replacement after Kathy left, a temporary harbor while he waited for his true love.

I quietly signed my resignation letter, burned eight years of memories, and turned to leave Stone Lake Pack.

Then, I met another Alpha.

Dangerous, captivating, untouchable—yet he dropped to one knee at our first meeting: "Marry me."

I nodded yes, but my ex lost his mind.

In my past life, I was shoved into oncoming traffic by my husband's widowed cousin, Isabella.
"Why do you get the perfect husband and the Romano fortune? Go to hell!"
I died, and my unborn child died with me. Up until my last breath, I thought she killed me out of purely manic, bitter jealousy.
When I opened my eyes, I was back at that exact crosswalk, rewound to the second she was about to push me.
Only this time, I stepped aside.
And I finally learned the truth. She wasn't just an envious widow—she was my husband's secret lover. And the one who paid the million-dollar bounty for my murder to steal my mafia empire was the "flawless" man sleeping in my bed.

In my first life, blinded by greed, I claimed to be that mysterious woman. Silas glanced at my left shoulder and said coldly, "No butterfly tattoo." His bodyguards dragged me to the backyard and shattered my ribs with a baseball bat.
In my second life, Cleo learned from my mistake. She got the butterfly tattoo at an underground parlor. But Silas lifted her skirt and sneered, "No birthmark on her inner thigh." We were thrown into the frozen lake behind the mountain.
"Find her. She's in the West Wing." Silas Brennan's cold command echoed through the Brennan Estate again. Cleo and I locked eyes, terror gripping us.
We were the only maids in the West Wing.

On the third day after my death, Massimo got the call.
His arm was around another woman. He didn't even flinch.
"Dead is dead," he said. "Burn her, then call me."
He came to the crematorium two hours late. He took my ashes, dropped them on the floor, and stepped on them like they were dirt.
"Tell Tess," he said, "if she's still alive, she can crawl back and beg. If she's really dead, I'll dig her up and flog the corpse myself."
I was right there, screaming without a voice.
Later, he pulled out his phone and called my number. It went straight to voicemail.
"Tess Reinhardt," he said, his jaw tight. "If you don't pick up, you're dead to me."
He still didn't know.
I was already dead.
And he was the only one who would never believe it.

Connor Mitchell and I are the golden couple of our industry. Everyone sees him as the devoted husband, always bringing me soup when I work late into the night.

On our fifth wedding anniversary, he gave me an expensive diamond necklace and posted something sweet on Instagram. The comments were all variations of the same thing: jealousy.

I used to believe it too.

Until I cut my trip to Europe short and got into that SUV. The passenger seat was set at the wrong angle, too far forward for my height. A contact lens case fell out of the sun visor, and neither of us wears contacts.

When I had my cousin pull the dashcam footage and saw him with his arm around some petite girl getting into the car, the truth hit me. My attentive husband, the one who called me every night I was away, had been using my connections and resources to play successful mentor to a twenty-two-year-old intern.

The irony is, he thinks he's gotten away with it. He has no idea I can see right through every move he makes.

Once rot sets into a perfect marriage, no amount of perfume can hide the stench.

Seven years. Seven bonding ceremonies. Seven times a pack of feral strays charged through the territory on the full moon and tore into me before the marking could take.
I thought the Moon Goddess had cursed us.
Then I woke up in the pack hospital and heard my Alpha whispering to her — the delicate white wolf he called his "sister."
"Next time you let them in, could you tell them to go easier? I'm scared she might actually die."
Seven years of attacks. Every single one orchestrated by the man I loved, designed to break me down until I gave up the Luna title and made room for her.
So I played the recording in front of his grandmother, looked him in the eye, and ended the engagement myself.
He thought that was the worst I could do.
He had no idea what those seven years had already cost me — what was already shutting down inside my body while he stood there worrying about her.
By the time he found out, it was far too late.

I was marrying Boone Ashcroft on a Saturday morning. Before I could step out of the truck, his mother walked up with a rope and pointed at the cattle chute behind the barn.
Her terms: hands and knees through six inches of mud and manure. A metal headgate clamped around my neck at the end. That was the price of walking through her front door.
I said no.
Then forty Ashcrofts surrounded the truck. My phone had zero signal. My family was blocked behind a hay baler a quarter mile back. And the man I'd spent three years with looked me in the eye and said: "You're going through that chute today. Crawling or walking — pick one."
They cornered my best friend. Threw hog blood on the windshield. Thought nobody was coming for me.
They didn't know about the CB radio under the console — or the ten cousins listening on the other end.

The day I presented as an omega, I caught my boyfriend cheating.
Then my first heat hit early.
With no suppressants left, I had only one person to ask for help: Adrian Holt—my infuriatingly perfect alpha roommate.
“Do you have a suppressant?”
Adrian glanced at my tear-streaked face.
“Actually,” he said slowly, “I’m out.”
Desperate, I made him an offer neither of us could take back.
“Then bite me. Just a temporary mark.”
What I didn’t know was that Adrian had plenty of suppressants.
And nothing about the way he wanted me was temporary.

As the old Don’s adopted daughter, I married the old Don’s son, Luciano.
Luciano also adopted a daughter, and after the old Don died, once he became the new Don, he declared he would marry her.
“When you adopted Sara, how old was she? Now she’s just come of age and you’ve already gotten her pregnant. All these years, was I raising your mistress for you?” My voice was trembling. “And more than that, you personally wiped out her entire family back then. Does she know?”
“Do you know why I spared Sara in the first place? Because she looked like someone. Emily, now that you’re old and no longer attractive, Sara just happens to satisfy my needs. Consider it compensation for her.”
I took our only daughter, Jenny, aborted the child I had just conceived for him, and planned to disappear from his world.

Betrayed to death by my own brother, I was reborn before the apocalypse descended.
He rushed to seize the god-tier [Copy] talent first, leaving the trash [Purification] talent for me.
He thought that with this talent, he'd have no worries and reign supreme in the apocalypse.
Meanwhile, I quietly closed the last door of my fortress.
He didn't know that his prized copying ability had a fatal flaw.

For Joey, I shouldered the blame for a commercial crime and survived five years behind bars—alone, even through a miscarriage.

With only five days left on my sentence, his secretary flaunted a “bonus” transfer from him—521,314—and when I left one mild comment, she blocked me.

I got released early on Christmas, wanting to surprise my husband. Instead, I pushed open our bedroom door and found Joey and Betty in our marital bed, deep in their sick little games.

And then I overheard a phone call that shattered everything: my little sister, Sansa, hadn’t died from a surgical “accident” at all. Joey had bribed the surgeon and had her heart cut out—so his mistress could gain a werewolf’s healing ability and keep having some perverted sex on bed.

He lied to me, used me, murdered my sister—and still mocked me for I was nothing without him.

What he doesn’t know is that I’m the daughter of an Alpha. I cut my family off for him once. Now I’m taking everything back—divorce,

Sebastion Drakos has been a selfish man all his life. For so long he put his needs above all those who he protects as the Alpha of The Redwood Pack. All for the love of an unworthy woman. Now with her gone, it leaves Sebastion to raise the son she gave him. For Jace, he will do anything.

Irina Belova is a slave. Vicktor is her master and a monster. Irina's daughter is her master's pawn. He uses her child to keep her in line. Vicktor is sending her on a mission. Irina is to spy on Sebastion, then trap him. Vicktor wants the mighty Alpha for his collection.

Fate may have plans for these two. They have children that they will do anything for. Each has a past they want to atone for. Can they survive the storm that is coming? Will Sebastion find his redemption? Will Irina find her freedom? Or will the forces working against all supernatural creatures keep them from achieving what they both want?

Mature Content Warning
18+ Readers
Drama Series

The cover of this book was made by fellow writer KeyKirita
The title of this book was the help of fellow writer Marii Solaria
Both writers have helped me greatly

Gathering Shadows Novels:
Book 1: Her Returned Mate
Book 2: His Redemption

For three years, Carol Bright was Edward Dawson's secretary and stepsister by day, and his secret lover by night. To him, she was just a game—disposable, forgettable, never meant to be loved.

When Edward announces his engagement to someone else, he expects drama. Instead, Carol disappears from his life without a word.

Now, she's no longer his. She's the heiress of the powerful Bright family—admired, untouchable, and far beyond his reach.

Then he sees her with another man. She slips behind closed doors. The lights go out—and she never returns.

That's when Edward realizes he's made the biggest mistake of his life.

The woman he once thought he owned is now the one he can never have again.

TRIGGER WARNING!!! This is rated 18+. Alpha Parthe is as dark as described. If you are not into dark romance, please, in the name of everything holy...

Excerpt

"My breath just made you quiver," He leaned closer so that I could almost taste his breath, "...Then imagine what my tongue would do."

"I warned you not to play with fire if you are afraid of flames," He added, his voice hoarse with need.

My plump lips parted in response, "I am not afraid to burn for what I love." I had just stirred something in him that had lay dormant all his life.

"Then so be it... Princess."


She was an angel craving chaos. He was a demon craving peace. She knew he was hell, yet she chose to burn with him.

It takes a special kind of woman to handle his darkness and tame his demons.

Alpha Parthe comes from a bloodline of cursed Alphas. They are endlessly consumed by the need to track and kill prey and offenders, constantly plagued by the scent of blood.

The more they kill, the more they want to kill. It only gets worse on every full moon.

What happens when there is no prey to kill? They become a threat to their loved ones. No one mated to an Alpha from the Wild Wolf pack ever lived more than two years. And every Alpha from that lineage dies at thirty-three due to the curse.

Parthe, determined to let the curse end in his own lifetime, vowed never to have a mate nor bear a son. But these vows crumble the moment he crosses paths with a girl he considers 'little and insignificant.'

The fate of poor Luxuria of the Ash Mountain pack, who was set to marry the love of her life, Beta Kahel, takes a drastic turn when she finds out she was mated to this cursed Alpha, whom she dreaded with all her life.

What happens when his curse gradually begins to seep into Luxuria, the one woman who was meant to be his remedy?

A betrayed politician’s wife.
A rebel alpha with nothing to lose.
A town crawling with secrets.
And a war waiting to ignite between blood and fang.
Calla Hart thought the worst thing her husband could do was cheat.
She was wrong.
After catching Senator Blake Hart in bed with a vampire, and learning he’s part of the Crimson Order, a vampire mafia that wants her blood.
Calla runs. Not for love, but for survival.
Because what’s in her veins isn’t normal.
She hides in Ravenridge, a decaying supernatural border town where monsters walk like men and shadows bite back.
A place where the veil between worlds is wearing thin.
There, she crashes -literally-into Axel Cain, the 20-year-old Alpha of the Vanguard Pack, a feral biker gang that patrols Ravenridge like outlaw wolves. Axel doesn’t do politics. Doesn’t do mates.
And definitely doesn’t do soft, wealthy women from the city.
But something in Calla’s scent sets his wolf on fire.
And when he learns who she’s running from-and what she really is-he makes a choice that will cost him everything:
Keep her close. Claim her.
And start a war that could burn the veil between their worlds.
Extra Note for Readers
This is a slow-burn paranormal romance with steamy heat, deep emotions, and an age-gap dynamic.
She’s older, hunted, and secretly powerful.
He’s younger, dominant, and doesn’t play nice.
Together, they might save the town… or destroy it.

“Sia, this is my son, Kai. The King of Lycans.”

The introduction hit me like a physical blow, freezing the blood in my veins. The man standing before me—tall, with unruly dark hair and stormy gray eyes—wasn’t a stranger.

He was Vape. The man I met in a shady hotel room at the black market. The man whose scent of smoke and cedar still haunted my dreams. The man who took my virginity during my heat and left a bite mark on my neck.

And now, he was my future stepson.

I clutched my stomach instinctively. Inside me, a tiny life was growing—his life.

Kai’s jaw clenched as his gaze swept over me, lingering on the spot where he had marked me. His wolf flashed dangerously in his eyes, a mix of desire and fury. Lucas, my older fiancé and Kai’s father, stood beside me, oblivious, his hand resting possessively on my waist.

“Kai, meet your future mother-in-law,” Lucas said proudly.

The air in the room vanished. Kai didn’t say a word. He just stared at me with that cold, predatory look, as if he wanted to tear me apart right there. Later that night, he cornered me in the garden, his body pressing me against the cold stone wall.

“You have bigger problems than keeping your secret,” he whispered, his voice a dangerous growl against my ear. “Because I know what you’re hiding.”


Sia, a mute and abused omega, is brutally rejected by her fated mate, Rio, and sold off to a rogue pack by her own sister. Just as she thinks her life is over, she encounters a mysterious stranger during her heat in a black market hotel—a night of passion that leaves her pregnant.
But fate isn't done with her. She is bought by Alpha Lucas, a powerful leader who takes her as his mate. Sia must navigate a dangerous web of lies: pretending to be mute, hiding her pregnancy, and dealing with the jealousy of the pack. The twist? The stranger who fathered her child is none other than Kai, the Lycan King—and Lucas's son.

On a rainy evening, Ophelia Taylor caught her husband Benjamin White cheating, shattering their marriage and her happy illusions completely. Plunged into despair, she found solace in Benjamin’s younger brother, William. Gentle and steady, William silently guarded her—bringing warm milk on sleepless nights, defending her from Benjamin’s coldness—slowly melting her broken heart. Unknowingly, both fell for each other, a forbidden affection blooming amid betrayal. Torn between her unfaithful husband and her off-limits brother-in-law, Ophelia stood at an emotional crossroads. Her reason screamed it was wrong, but her heart clung to William’s warmth. This tangled struggle of love and guilt had just begun.

I almost died giving birth to my daughter. The doctors gave me a thirty percent chance of survival — and I took it, because I thought a child might finally make my husband choose home over her.

I was wrong.

I stood in the hallway and listened to Kael tell his mother that I was "more resilient" — that the risks of childbirth were too serious for the woman he truly loved, so it had to be me. I was not his wife. I was a vessel.

Then my daughter, the child I had bled for, looked me in the eyes and said she wished Ivy were her mother instead.

That was the night I stopped waiting.

I filed for divorce. I walked out. I reclaimed the research career I had abandoned for a man who never saw me. And I told myself I was done.

What I didn't expect was the little boy I pulled back from the edge of suffocation — a child with no parents, a face I couldn't stop feeling I recognized, and a medical robot I had designed with my own hands tucked inside his coat.

Who is he? And why does finding him feel like the beginning of something I'm not ready for?

Amelia's life took an unexpected turn when she learned that she was diagnosed with a terminal illness that left her only six months to live.

Heartbroken and devastated, the last thing she had expected was to be offered a divorce agreement by her husband, Adrian, when she got back home.

Given that their contract has expired and his ex-girlfriend, who was also Amelia's stepsister, has returned, Adrian wanted Amelia to make way for her. But the last thing he had expected was what she requested as compensation for the divorce.

What did Amelia really request as compensation for the divorce?

What happens when Adrian finds out that the reason why he has been keeping his feelings from Amelia was all lies and that who he wants to leave Amelia for isn't who she really is?

What happens when Adrian tries to win back the woman who he has neglected and sometimes mistreated for no reason only to find out that she's diagnosed with a terminal illness and that she has only a month remaining to live?

Six years ago, Evelyn White caught her husband Arthur Collins cheating, then left his mansion—pregnant and unseen. Now she’s back as Eve, a top artist, with two genius twins. At her exhibition, the kids yell “Mommy”… and Arthur’s world breaks. He’s obsessed with dragging her (and the kids he never knew) back. She just wants to paint and protect her family. But as their past’s lies unravel, escaping him means fighting for more than just freedom.

“You don’t love me, do you?” Luke whispered, pinning my wrists above my head.

His body pressed mine into the bed, hot, heavy, inescapable. His mouth brushed my ear, gentle enough to feel like a kiss, cruel enough to feel like punishment.

“It’s okay,” he murmured.“Your body is mine.”

I left Luke Morrison unconscious in an ICU eight years ago and rebuilt myself in London—elite auctioneer, an ocean between me and the past.

Then my brother's condition crashed. I'm back in Pennsylvania, standing behind an auction podium at his company's charity gala.

A little boy runs through the crowd and wraps his arms around me: "Mama, you came back."

"Daddy shows me pictures every day," Asher says.

Every. Single. Day. How long has this been going on?

Luke's watching with ice-cold eyes. The bullied boy I left behind? Gone. Replaced by a tech billionaire who makes predators look soft.

"Get in," he says. Not a request.

Then he takes me back to his home.

His penthouse is frozen in time—the art I chose, the books I organized. Our past preserved like he's been waiting.

"You owe me eight years, Mia," he says, showing me the scar. "The girl who watched them destroy me and did nothing. This time, you don't run."

When he fucks me, it's worship and punishment. Making me pay for every day I was gone.

"I've waited eight years for this. Every breath you take belongs to me."

He's not just possessive. He's broken. And Asher is the perfect weapon to keep me trapped.

RIEKA
She was a naive,chubby,wolfless werewolf,maltreated by her mate to the point where she loses her sanity and womb,her crime was being chubby and less attractive than her peers.
GABRIEL
He was a handsome,strong willed womanizer,who happens to a hybrid ALPHA prince,the person he loves the most is his kid brother RALPH.
He has searched high and low for a mate he could never find.
What will happen when he finds out that his beloved brother's ex wife,happens to be his long awaited mate,who was maltreated and is currently mentally unstable?
Will he forgive his brother for hurting his mate?or will blood flow?

After years of bloodshed and power, Alpha Marcel leaves the ruthless world of werewolves behind to build a quiet life with his beloved wife, Ella, and their innocent daughter, Evelyn. In a remote town, they find fleeting peace—until whispers turn to accusations. Locals call Marcel the devil and brand Evelyn as his cursed offspring. As fear spreads, violence brews, forcing Marcel to flee with his family to protect what matters most.
But peace is short-lived.
Just when they think they’ve outrun the hate, a shadow from Marcel’s past resurfaces—an enemy cloaked in vengeance, determined to destroy everything Marcel holds dear. With his family in the crosshairs, Marcel must embrace the beast within once more. Because this time, survival isn't just about running. It's about fighting back.
Can a former Alpha escape the past—or will it come for his blood and his daughter's soul?
Note: This is book 2 of the Series, Sold To The Notorious Mafia Alpha- His Pleasure Thing

Calista was deceived by someone she thought was her "boyfriend," losing all her savings and getting kicked out by her landlord.
Now homeless in a city far from home with no one to turn to, she unexpectedly finds shelter in a shared apartment with three men- Zane, Cedric, and Draven. Not only do they offer Calista a fresh start, but they also bring her into a web of temptation and mystery.
Calista's journey is an emotional rollercoaster as she navigates the complexities of her new living situation while struggling to overcome the pain of betrayal. As she attempts to rebuild her life, she finds herself drawn to the lives of her roommates, each offering a different kind of allure.
Zane: "You're a sweet girl, Calista."
Cedric: "You're making me more intrigued, Calista."
Draven: "You're the first person who made me smile, Calista."
Amid the chaos of her new reality, Calista can't shake the feeling that she's a pawn in a game she doesn't fully understand. Has she stepped from one deceit into another? Can she trust the men she now calls her roommates?

When Annika is taken from her city and her parents and brother by a minion of the King of all Vampires, she expects that death awaits her and stills her mind in preparation.

So when she's chosen as the Vampire king's new human bride, Annika is given no time to prepare before she has to marry the King of all Vampires.

And just when she thinks that's all she will have to deal with, Annika realizes that she has to give an heir to the throne of Noctharys in two years. Her husband is supposed to be the most cruel king who murders humans and drinks their blood without regard, so why did he respect her wish to not consummate their marriage on the wedding night?

As Annika is thrust into the thick of Vampire court politics, she has to navigate the treacherous waters but she is not without friends or allies, and Annika is sassy, smart and just intelligent enough to always conquer her foes and every tribulation thrust in her path.

More so, her husband is starting to pay attention to her, and before she knows it, Noctharys changes from a placed she's trapped in to her home.

The King of all Vampires and His Bride is a fantasy, slice of life book full of friendship, intrigue and a slow budding love between a man who has only known darkness for centuries, and the woman who brings light into his heart.

Slowly stroing her again he leaned down placing a kiss, tender almost imperceptible on her hand. Daisy is so delicated and pure, the perfect mate of his madness dreams.
“Just trust on me, I won´t hurt you”
He extended a hand using it to wipe the lipstick on her lips and wet cheeks. She was supposed to be writhing in pleasure not crying in pain. But She was so afraid of becoming into a werewolf. The Alpha ing smiles and whisper to her:
“Do you know you look more beautiful than the moon when you smile?”
Daissy nodded holding into him for dear life. She never wanted to be far away of him, ever again will let him go. “Thank you”
“Just trust on me. Spread your legs wider for me”.
• *
*

Daisy always thought her life would change for the better if She accepted to be the woman of the Alpha´s ing, with other two Lycan lovers interests on her. She is the future Alpha Queen Moon, She has foreseen his mate was the only one like no other, a wolfman that would love away her everything, and the one who will take her dancing every night. She choice an Alpha King, Ryan, that would see only her, breathe only her.

However, When She found herself into a reverse hare, mated to another Lycan, Benjamin, her life long crush, the Alpha King and the man who made her a werewolf just dissapears. Now Deisy nows the one who will fight for her, as the future Alpha King, reining next to her, has to kill Benjamin. Otherwise her dreams of being a Queen Moon Dancer remained just that, a dream of being with Ryan.

When Mafia King Dante Valeri steals Elena Hayes from her quiet life, it isn’t for ransom…
It’s because she’s the only woman he has ever wanted—and the one he should never touch.

With every day in his gilded prison, Elena discovers the monster the world fears may be the only man capable of protecting her.
But Dante’s obsession burns too hot…
And the enemies closing in want her dead.

Will she escape the king who stole her life—or surrender to his forbidden desire?

To save her dying mother, nightclub hostess Emilia Hart is willing to do anything — even seduce the cold and powerful CEO, Dominic Hayes. Rumored to be incapable of desire, Dominic shocks everyone by taking her away in the middle of a party.

But Emilia has a secret — a drug meant to protect herself, not to trap him.

When her plan backfires, Dominic pins her down with ice in his eyes and fury in his heart.
"You want to play dirty? Fine. I’ll show you I don’t need pills to break you."

Money. Power. Lust. And a deal that will ruin them both…

I fell in love with my stepbrother.

He chose someone else.

So I did what any smart wolf would do—I disappeared into the most brutal academy in the North, where weakness means death and emotions are a luxury I couldn't afford.

Four years later, he's on his knees outside my door, begging me to come back.

"Sia, please. I made a mistake. I need you—"

But before I can answer, a hand fists in my hair from behind. The new Alpha pins me against the wall, his cock already hard against my ass.

"You're not going anywhere," Kaelan growls, his fingers sliding between my thighs. "This pussy belongs to me now."

Cain's still begging outside.

And I'm coming apart under Kaelan's hands, realizing too late—

I never escaped anything. I just traded one obsession for another.

That December night, his first love and I were both rushed to the ER.
Two pregnant women. One operating room.
My doctor husband took three seconds to decide.
"She's an athlete. She can handle it," he told the nurse, then wheeled Sienna into surgery.
Leaving me—eight months pregnant with his baby—bleeding alone in the hallway.
When the nurse called begging him to come back, he said: "I'm at the pharmacy getting supplies for Sienna. Twenty minutes."
Twenty minutes later, I'm still alive.
He wishes I wasn't.

On the eve of our Blood Pact ceremony, Caius suddenly postponed our binding ritual—all for his human sweetheart.

He unilaterally cut off the blood supply and froze all assets to the entire Vance family.

When my father went to confront him, Caius had him detained on the spot.

Desperate to save my father, I went to beg him. He gripped my jaw so hard it ached, his thumb roughly wiping away the tears forced out by the pain.

"Sera, delaying the ceremony is just a little lesson for you," he said, his tone gentle yet dripping with arrogance.

"As long as you agree to let Elara move into the manor after the wedding, and promise not to hurt her, everything stays the same."

"Otherwise, you can just go marry Alaric, that powerless tyrant of the Dark Realm. Be smart. Choose the path that keeps you alive."

I stared at him dead in the eye, not saying a word.

Thinking I had resigned myself to my fate, a satisfied smirk curled on his lips.

"Be a good girl. Wait for me to pick you up on the day of the Blood Pact."

What he didn't know was that on the day of the Blood Pact, I would step directly into the car Alaric sent, brushing right past his wedding convoy at the intersection.

Eventually, Caius would drop to his knees outside the gates of the night manor like a stray dog, begging for my forgiveness.

I spent five years loving Beckett Calloway.
When his ex-girlfriend died saving his life, I held him through every nightmare. When he said he "wasn't ready" for marriage, I waited. When he whispered "soon," I believed him.
Then her sister showed up. Crying about some terminal illness. Begging him to take care of her.
He let her move onto our private island—the one he promised would only ever belong to us.
He introduced her at the gala where he was supposed to announce our engagement.
He got her pregnant.
And when I told him she was lying about everything, he looked at me like I was the monster.
Then came our wedding rehearsal. She walked down the aisle in my dress. He slid his ring onto her finger. The chapel caught fire. I collapsed, bleeding.
He scooped her up and ran. Didn't even glance back.
So I burned my vows, deleted every trace of myself, and vanished.
This time, I wasn't coming back.

The night before graduation, a confession post blew up the school forum:
“Daphne, I’m gonna rip up my Harvard offer onstage during commencement to confess to you—my whole college future as my love token.”
The OP bragged nonstop in the comments that he’d locked down the state’s only full-ride Harvard scholarship, his admission was a done deal, and graduation was nothing but a meaningless formality anyway.
The attached photo showed their interlaced hands. That old burn scar on his forearm—the one he’d claimed he got saving me—stared back like a chain that’s trapped me for ten years straight.
I poured every cent, every spare hour and all my academic resource just to get him into Harvard. I even voluntarily stepped down from the scholarship race and passed the spot to him.
This childhood sweetheart who’d sworn we’d go to Harvard together only hours ago threw every promise out the window for a rich transfer student, willing to gamble both our futures just for a dramatic grand gesture.
I shut the forum tab, pulled up my email to the scholarship committee.
I’m formally taking back the scholarship spot I gave up！

They found my husband locked inside his mistress.

Not metaphorically. Literally locked—a medical phenomenon called vaginal spasm, triggered when their sports car crashed mid-affair on a mountain road. The doctors said separating them required a high-risk spinal injection. Without it, he'd lose everything below the waist. Possibly his life.

They needed my signature. The wife's consent.

I looked at the consent form. Then at my phone—47 missed calls from three nights ago, when our four-year-old son stopped breathing.

Adrian never picked up. He was too busy.

Now he was begging me to sign.

I wiped away my tears, picked up the pen.

Now it was his turn to die.

A hundred years ago, that curse was meant for him. I'm the one who threw myself in front of it.
It cost me my elven heart, shattered on the spot—and a name I could never wash off. Traitor.
I never argued. Because the moment I speak the truth, the curse goes straight back to him.
So I stayed. I became his blood servant and let him drain me, one bottle at a time, to feed the woman he'd waited a century for. I told myself that if I endured long enough, someday he'd see my heart for what it was.
Then the healer told me my heart had thirty days left.
And he walked in, knife in hand, to say his beloved needed more of my blood.
This time, I'm not enduring anything.
I'm going to give him back this heart—at the exact moment he's most sure he's won.

To avenge his beloved, my husband locked me—pregnant—in a dog cage and sank it into the icy lake outside our house.
"Wendy spent ten minutes in the water. You'll stay in there for two days."
I screamed and pleaded, "I'm not lying! I really am pregnant! Please!"
But he towered over me, his eyes full of disgust. "You'll say anything to avoid punishment—even a lie like this?"
As the iron cage sank, the freezing water swallowed me—and took the unborn child with it.
Two days later, he had the cage hauled up, waiting for me to beg Wendy for forgiveness.
But all that was left inside was a curled, lifeless body, my dress soaked in vivid red.
I hovered above, watching coldly as he clung to my corpse, howling like a madman.
Eric, why are you crying?
Isn't this what you wanted?

My daughter died on her fifth birthday.
Her first real wish—the first one she was old enough to make herself—was to go to the beach with Daddy.
Gideon promised he would take her.
She waited for him all day. She was still asking for him when she took her last breath.
He never came.
I brought her ashes to the beach she'd always dreamed of. Let her finally see the ocean.
That's when I heard it—a woman's moan, low and breathy, coming from behind the rocks.
Then his voice. Then his name on her lips.
"Between me and Lily, who do you love more?"
"You. Obviously."
He was fucking his mistress on our daughter's dream beach—while I stood there holding her ashes.
When I finally confronted them, I didn't get an apology. I got a slap across the face.
And when his mistress caught my eye and smiled, I realized something.
She knew exactly when my daughter would die.

I had just arrived abroad for a legal conference when my best friend sent me a video.
An unfamiliar woman was chatting while pushing Dexter’s mother, Jenny, around the neighborhood, claiming to be Dexter’s wife.
My hand, holding the phone, froze.
If she’s Dexter’s wife… then who am I?
I immediately called my husband and asked,
“Did you change family doctors?”
He paused for a second, then replied with a laugh, “Yes. Mom didn’t like the old one, so we switched. I haven’t had a chance to tell you yet. Why do you ask?”
I forced a casual chuckle. “No reason. I just missed you.”
After hanging up, I rushed home overnight.

After Nicholas got engaged, his assistant handed me a plane ticket.

"Leave. Don’t ever show your face in Silverlight City again."

"Otherwise, Mr. Jackson has more than enough ways to ruin you."

All those years I spent by his side, I was admired by everyone, living in the spotlight.

Yet when I finally left, I was reduced to a pitiful, laughable sight.

I said, "Fine."

But that very night, the flight plunged from over thirty thousand feet in the air.

In my last life, my brother broke my legs and my adopted sister pushed me into the ocean. My father just stood there watching, mad about the blood on his shoes.
They gave her everything that was mine. My territory, my mother's necklace, even my bedroom. I was the real daughter, the real bloodline, and I still wasn't worth half of the stray my father dragged home.
I took it all. Every insult, every slap, every scrap of love that went to her instead of me. Because I thought maybe one day they'd see me.
They never did. They killed me instead.
Now I'm back. Same night, same banquet, same girl sitting across from me with fake tears, begging for my port.
This time I didn't hand it over. I smashed a wine bottle, slapped her face open, and told my father we're done.
He called his guards. My brother pulled a gun.
What they forgot is that my grandfather is the real power in this family. And I already sent him a message.

My husband had been traveling a lot lately. Intuition told me he was cheating.
I kept quiet. For his birthday, I gifted him AirPods—secretly linked to my backup Apple ID.
At 10:00 p.m., his "Find My" location wasn't heading to the airport. It had stopped at a decade-abandoned lumber yard.
I floored it, obsessed with catching them in bed.
But when I arrived, I only found a corpse.

I gave five years to my husband's ambition—and got betrayal in return.

Forty-three days without a break on the Imperial City project. I collapsed from exhaustion and woke up in the hospital. He never picked up the phone.

He was too busy celebrating his mistress's birthday.

The blonde hair wrapped around his jacket was like a slap to the face. I'd cut my own hair short years ago because he said long hair wasn't "professional." He just meant it wasn't professional on me.

He promised we'd move to Imperial City together once he succeeded. But he was always too busy—except when it came to touring my project sites with her.

I'd had enough.

I froze the accounts. Pulled the funding. Took back everything I'd built.

He tried to push me out of my own position, so I reclaimed the patents and withdrew my support.

He called a press conference to save face. I attended—as an executive at his largest competitor.

I watched him crumble.

For five years, I held him up. And for five years, he treated me like something disposable.

He forgot that the empire he thought he built was never his.

It was always mine.

once believed alpha Fernando was the true mate the Moon Goddess had chosen for me.
He held me tightly during the Blood Moon riots.
He stoked the fire as I brewed purification potions.
He even declared before the entire Blackthorn Pack, “Thalia is my light.”
Until the night before our engagement banquet, when the soulstone in my palm leapt from the gilded invitation—
He was bonding with his cousin Bianca.
That Beta girl who always sneered at me, saying, “A Gamma, touching an Alpha? Laughable.”
Her spirit mark was etched into the corner of the card.
Like a silver blade carved into my heart.
Then alpha Fernando’s voice bled through the soulstone, laced with frost I’d never heard before:
“She? Just a warm body in my bed.”
“She really thought I sent her to the Highland Summit because I valued her? I just needed space for Bianca.”
His laughter, mingled with clinking wineglasses in the background, pierced me like a dagger dipped in silver poison.

I went for a prenatal check-up, only to catch my beloved Alpha husband gently holding Omega Rosa’s hand through the crack in the door, whispering,
“Our pup looks perfect.”

He’s my husband.
She’s his childhood sweetheart.
And me? I’m the one they decided was expendable.

Later, he stood in the hallway and murmured,
“For the good of the family, I have to claim her pup—not yours.”

Rosa leaned in with a smile:
“Don’t be mad, Isabella. Once you give birth, we can raise your baby… as our adopted son.”

That was the moment I realized—being Luna meant nothing.
To them, I was just a pawn in a game of betrayal.

And the pup in my belly?
He was never meant to survive in a world this cruel.