8648 Book(s) Related to the crown of night and magic

My labor pains flaring violently the same day my husband’s widowed sister-in-law, Nancy, went into labor.
Nancy tricked everyone into believing I carried a girl while she bore the heir son.
Obsessed with securing the inheritance for Nancy’s fake male child, Rowdy locked me inside a hospital morgue cold storage, transferring all doctors, blood reserves and emergency gear to her VIP ward.
I knelt on icy ground, begging him to spare our baby and swore to renounce all family wealth, yet he kicked me aside and called me a greedy schemer.
His adopted sister Gina sneaked down, beat me brutally and injected a high-dose labor suppressant straight into my womb to stall my delivery.
It was only after Nancy delivered her baby that Rowdy belatedly remembered I was also stuck in labor downstairs.
Before he could head down to the basement, his panicked subordinate rushed in and cried, “Boss, Awful!—your wife and your son are died!”

Every time Mason tried to force me to back down, he would slam the divorce agreement onto the table.
Every time my parents wanted me to yield, they threatened to sever all ties with me.
What they wanted was simple: for me to give everything to my twin sister.
I once resisted, cried, and questioned them over and over—why was I always the one left hurt?
Until the doctor slid my medical test results in front of me, and said to me in a tone full of pity:
"The pancreatic cancer cells have metastasized. You only have one month left to live, maybe even less."
I had nothing left to care about. I was doomed no matter what, so they could do whatever they wanted with me.

A blizzard night. My car broke down in the middle of nowhere, and my legs had already lost all feeling.

With purple, cracked fingers, I dialed my fiancé, Silas.

Through the phone came the cozy crackle of a fireplace, and the sweet giggles of the fake heiress, Stella.

"Silas... save me... Route 82..." I gasped, my voice fading.

"Harper, this jealousy game makes me sick," he snapped. "Stella only sat in your passenger seat, and you play disappear? Go freeze to death out there. Don't bother us!"

Beep.

He hung up. Followed by a ruthless block.

He didn't know it wasn't a stunt for attention. It was my last SOS in this world.

When my body was dug out of the snowdrifts, frozen stiff along with the cheap engagement ring he bought on a whim, that arrogant man dropped to his knees on the icy morgue floor, sobbing uncontrollably.

Too bad, I could never see it again.

Ever since the day Roman pressed a gun to my head and condemned me as his parents' murderer, I became the most lowly prisoner in this estate.
 
He didn't kill me. Instead, he kept me in line using my dying mother's medical bills and my adopted sister, Callie, as leverage.
 
For three years, he paraded various women into the master bedroom, leaving me to change their tangled sheets; he ground my dignity into the dirt in front of his men, and I swallowed the humiliation in silence.
 
Until the day he wrapped his arm around a pregnant Callie, flaunting her in my face.

I finally broke down, falling to my knees at his feet:
 
"My mother is dying, and Callie is the only family I have left. I'm begging you—direct all your cruelty at me. Just let her go."
 
Roman merely scoffed. Twisting his hand into my hair, he dragged me all the way into the great hall.
 
There, my "terminally ill" mother stood holding a glass of expensive red wine, her face flushed and glowing with health as she smilingly stroked Callie's slightly rounded belly.
 
"Look—it was all a lie." Roman stared at me like I was trash. "Who told you to be so stubborn and refuse to confess? I dropped some spare change, and your mother willingly faked her illness for three years. And your sweet little sister? She calls me her husband in my bed every single day."
 
A brutal chill pierced my bones. I couldn't believe that the very blood relatives I had sacrificed my life to protect were the leeches draining me dry.
 
Roman slammed a Divorce Agreement onto the coffee table. Under the asset division column was an utterly humiliating number: $1.
 
"Callie is pregnant with the family's first-born heir. Be a good girl and sign it—this one dollar is your severance pay."
 
He was so absolutely certain that I would go completely insane at the sight of this pathetic dollar.

He assumed that even with a gun to my head, I would bawl and cling desperately to my title as the Don's wife.
 
But after a brief, dead silence, I signed my name.
 
Then, I picked up that one-dollar coin.
 
"You're right. Our last ten years together are worth exactly one dollar."
 
From this moment on, whether it was my bloodsucking family or the man I had loved for a decade...
 
We were completely, entirely done.

The System told me to do good deeds during the apocalypse.

It also told me to change the world through love.

I've always been the cooperative type. So I raised my blade, brought it down, and carved through the scum of this world—one slash at a time.

The System lost its mind, shrieking inside my head at a deafening pitch:

"AHHH! Host! Why are you killing people?! This counts as evil! Points will be deducted!"

I flicked the blood off my blade and looked up at the ground littered with zombies I'd decapitated.

Then at the man who had just shoved a living person into a horde of zombies as feed—the same man I'd put my blade straight through the throat of.

My fingertip traced the character carved into the hilt: Love.

"What's the problem?"

I shot back. "I'm using my love to send them exactly where they belong. A physical deliverance counts as a good deed."

Five years ago, Leo, the overlord of the abyss who ruled the seven seas, went into hiding and worked as a cook in a dilapidated tavern to save his savior.
When his benefactor was captured by the empire and was about to be executed, the arrogant governor forced him to crawl between his legs in order to see him.
He did as instructed, but was then tricked.
That night, a bone conch shell resounded throughout the seven seas, thousands of ghost warships besieged the city, and the kings of the underworld knelt in unison.
The former "scale-scraping chef" broke through the palace gates, cut through his shackles with a single stroke, and embraced the beauty: "I'll take you home for grilled fish, it's on me."

By day, I was the ruthless Director of Finance working under mafia heir Silvan. By night, I was the secret lover he kept locked away in a guest room.
He gave me luxury cars, a mansion, and endless money, but never a title. I thought he was protecting me—until he packaged both the title of his official wife and my position as CFO, handing them over to Aurea Moretti, a prominent mafia heiress.
And that arrogant man? He casually tossed me a diamond ring like a handout to pacify me. "Titles are just an illusion. Even if I marry someone else, you’ll always be the woman I care about most."
He even had the audacity to offer me a seaside villa, thinking he could keep me forever as his underground mistress in another city.
Looking at his cold, entitled eyes, I finally smiled.
On the day of his engagement to the mafia heiress, I took off the ring and vanished from this city completely.

All because I was unaware that Sophia had followed me on the mission, leaving her stranded in the chaotic dockyard.
My husband, Dante, was furious. He ordered his bodyguards to throw me into a seafood transfer warehouse.
“Cool off in the cold storage. Maybe then you’ll understand how helpless Sophia felt trapped in that container.”
It was a refrigeration unit for seafood, kept at a constant zero degrees, the air thick with the smell of fish.
I pounded on the door, pleading for help, but only Dante’s icy voice came through the intercom:
“Stop the act. The temperature in there won’t kill you. Stay inside and reflect until you learn your lesson.”
He cut the internal communication.
The temperature in the cold room kept dropping—someone had switched on the deep-freeze mode!
Shivering uncontrollably, I beat against the door until my nails left bloody scratches on the wall.
In agony, I curled into a ball. My consciousness faded, and my body grew stiff.
On the third day, Dante finally remembered me while celebrating the takeover of new territory.
In a rare show of mercy, he decided to have someone let me out.
But what he didn’t know was that my heart had already stopped beating from hypothermia long before.

My name is Ethan, and it wasn't until the apocalypse arrived that I realized just how cruel fate could be.

Ability awakening became the new normal. Most survivors gained some kind of supernatural power, ranging from F-rank to the legendary S-rank.

F-rank abilities were barely better than being ordinary, while S-rank ability users possessed the power to face a hundred enemies alone.

My childhood friend Davis awakened a B-rank ability [Thermal Perception], allowing him to sense the heat distribution of all living beings within a hundred-meter radius.

And me? I got the F-rank ability that everyone mocked—[Refresh].

"Hahaha! Refresh? What can that do? Refresh your life?" People at the camp always laughed at me like that.

But I didn't care. I only wanted to protect my sister Leia.

Leia is eighteen this year, one of the few ordinary people in this camp who haven't awakened an ability.

I swore to protect her, no matter the cost.

That evening at dusk, Davis came to find me, but he had already betrayed me and become a lackey of the Gray Mark Gang.

My godfather father fell gravely ill and passed the position of Don ahead of time to my fiancé Chris, whom I had not seen for two years.
But he did not fulfill his promise to marry me once I returned home, claiming instead that he would marry my half-sister Lily.
“Sophie has lost sight in her right eye. She is no longer fit to be the Don’s wife.”
“With Sophie’s dull temperament, what does she have besides the surname Rossi? If it weren’t for that position—”
So the feelings of all these years, the eye I lost, the suffering I endured in Sicily—none of it meant anything.
I was nothing more than a stepping stone for him to become the new Don.

“The wedding will go on as planned.”
Darren sat in the dimly lit living room, his voice flat as if he were commenting on the weather. But the fabric of my dress was already wrinkled in my fists, my nails cutting crescents into my skin—because only hours ago, I had seen it with my own eyes.
The man with crippling OCD, who never let anyone touch his things, had casually lifted Paisley’s glass and taken a sip.
My wolf, Emily, snarled restlessly in my mind: “He’s betrayed us! Break the bond—call it off!”
But I clung to the last threads of hope, my gaze locked on the wedding ring at his finger—engraved with both our names. He once told me the ring was crafted with a strong magnet, which whenever we were near, they’d pull together. Proof, he said, of us being true Fate Mates.
Until the night of the Moon Ceremony.
I walked toward him in my white gown, only to catch the naked loathing in his eyes.
“The mate I longed for isn’t you. I regret this.”

She was declared dead. They just didn’t expect her to come back richer, colder, and hungry for blood. Lyra Calloway once had everything: a doting father, a rightful inheritance, and a fiancé she trusted with her life. Then her half-sister and fiancé conspired to steal it all, staging a car accident to bury her secrets along with her body. She survived. And for two years, in silence, she rebuilt herself into someone they won’t recognise and won’t survive. Her weapon of choice: Ethan Vance. Cold, ruthless, and the one man with enough power and enough hatred for her ex-fiancé to help her burn his empire to the ground. Lyra offers him a deal, a marriage in name only, insider access to destroy their mutual enemy in exchange. Ethan agrees. But he adds a condition of his own: if she’s going to wear his ring, she belongs to him completely in every boardroom, every bedroom, every heartbeat of the plan. What Lyra doesn’t know is that Ethan isn’t a stranger she recruited. He’s the one who has been circling her life for years, waiting for the exact moment she’d have nowhere left to turn but to him. As their fake marriage entangles them in real desire, real danger, and a revenge plot that runs deeper than either of them planned, Lyra will have to decide if she’s using Ethan, or if he’s always been the one pulling her strings.

"Your husband is cheating on you."
That one message shattered Mia's perfect life.
Her loving husband? A liar.
His sweet words and late nights? Cover-ups for a double betrayal.
The worst part? One of them is engaged—to another man.
Determined to uncover the truth, Mia teams up with Colin—the heartbroken fiancé of her husband's mistress. What starts as a cold alliance soon turns into something more, as they unravel betrayal, lies, and twisted desires.
Now, with cameras rolling, secrets exposed, and hearts breaking, Mia must choose: walk away with dignity… or fight fire with fire.
When love is lost and revenge tastes sweet—
What do you do when you catch them cheating?

Book 8.5: Mercerian Tales: Honour Thy Ancestors Driven from their ancestral home by the Humans, the Orcs are forced to eke out an existence until one hunter dares to defy tradition. They had one sacred rule. Never, under any circumstances, go into the mud hut  Unlike other young Orcs, Urgon sees it as a challenge, and he's prepared to risk everything to unlock its secrets. Shrouded in mystery, what's inside reveals a hidden past of his people, leading him to question all that he thought he knew.  Urgon's father sacrificed himself for the future of the tribe—will he now do the same?  Mercerian Tales: Honour Thy Ancestors delves into the rich history of the Orcs of the Black Arrow by following the rise to power of their greatest chieftain, Urgon. Although best read between books eight and nine of the Heir to the Crown series, this book can also be read as a stand-alone tale.   Reach into the past to discover the future as you begin Honour Thy Ancestors today!

Seven years ago, Cate Sullivan was presumed dead following a tragic fire while she was carrying twins. The man who loved her with all his heart, Dylan Carter, buried her himself… but he didn't recover.
Surprisingly, She survived. Devastated, psychologically damaged, and suffering from amnesia, she has been raising twins for the past seven years in poverty, unaware of the billionaire who lost her and is still looking for the woman he never stopped loving.
That changes on a snowy night when he finds a young boy stealing from Cate's grave… a boy who looks like him. Because contrary to what he thought all these years, his deceased lover has returned along with his twins.
But someone is determined to keep the truth buried forever. As old memories resurface and dangerous secrets unravel, Cate and Dylan are pulled back into a love story destroyed by betrayal, obsession, and seven years of heartbreaking separation.
Yet the closer they grow, the more deadly the past becomes. Because the woman who tried to erase Cate once before is prepared to do it again.
In a story filled with painful misunderstandings, hidden identities, emotional reunions, and a love powerful enough to survive death itself, one question remains: What happens when the man who buried you discovers even in poverty and memory loss you never stopped loving him?

Her hands slid up to his chest, palms flat, feeling the solid strength beneath his shirt. The fear didn’t vanish completely. But it quieted. Receded into the background. Logan’s thumb brushed her cheek, slow and grounding, as his other hand settled at her waist.

The kiss grew warmer. Slower. Logan felt it too, sharp and electric. His wolf stirred restlessly, recognizing something it shouldn’t, something it wanted to claim even as his mind warned him to stop. He broke the kiss first, breathing hard, forehead resting against hers.

“Emily,” he murmured, strained. “We should—” She didn’t let him finish. Her lips brushed his jaw, tentative, almost questioning. Her voice was barely a whisper. “Don’t send me away.”


After being betrayed forty-eight times by her mate, Oscar, Emily is drugged and offered to powerful wolves for his gain. Desperate and fleeing danger, she collapses into the arms of Lucas Walker, one of seven feared Alpha Brothers who rule the strongest pack. Drawn to her by an unstoppable pull, the brothers vow to protect her. But Emily’s past hides a darker secret, one that fate has bound to all of them.

“Does Mr. Howard Have an STD?”
With one sentence, Sienna tore apart her marriage to Ethan.
For three years of their secret marriage, she was his obedient wife, his silent assistant, and the woman he always overlooked.
Until she discovered that every business trip he took was spent living with his adopted sister.
While he was hospitalized after a car accident, she slipped divorce papers into his documents and tricked him into signing them.
She quit her job, moved out, and inherited a massive fortune.
The whole city mocked her, saying she was nothing without Ethan.
But she turned around and climbed back to the top of the industry, standing beside a man even more powerful than him.
Only then did Ethan realize what he had lost, kneeling before her and begging for another chance.
She leaned down slightly and smiled.
“Mr. Howard, when you cheated on me… did you ever think I could choose someone else too?”

Olympia was sold during the Annual Omega Bidding to the powerful and arrogant Alpha King, Alpha Fabian, who owns a five-star night club. Every year, he recruits Omegas to serve as strippers in the club. Others, to serve his top clients in the bedroom.
Most sold off by their relatives.
Once recruited here, chances of escaping and getting a fated mate are slim as the Omegas are considered used.
He’s the most powerful Alpha King in the world, no one can question him.
Leaving her family behind and worse, being sold off by her stepdad haunted her.
Upon arrival at the palace, she got into an issue with one of the task masters overseeing the royal maids.
At the verge of punishment, she’s rescued by a cool, charming gentleman when everyone else watches. Olympia fell for him at first sight, only to discover they are quadruplets.
Alpha Fabian, upon discovering her first day rebellion, as punishment, handed her over to his ruthless quadruplet sons as their personal callgirl.
Alpha Elliott, Asher and Ryder soon realize she’s their mate and are more than eager to tame her, not only physically but in bed but she hates them. They are Enigma Alphas, too dangerous for an Omega like her.
But she loves only one.
Alpha Cassius. The Alpha who saved her.
But what will be her fate as Alpha Cassius is an Enigma. He's an exorcist, regarded as consecrated mate of the moon goddess yet he's the only one among the Alpha princes she wants most, her wolf desires, her body arches for.
What will become of this intense forbidden passion between an Omega slave and the charming exorcist who is trying hard to fight demons and his feral desires at the same time?

Born a Lycan princess, she was stolen from the castle by a witch.

Sybil was raised knowing exactly who she was… and exactly what she had been bred for.

A womb. A crown. Her bloodline’s legacy.

But Sybil was never meant to be a broodmare queen.

She grew up human with the strength and senses of a shewolf and the magic of the witches.

She’s strong, intelligent, disciplined, and lethal. An MMA champion. A combat instructor for a private military contractor. A woman who learned to fight before she ever learned to howl.

The werewolf King finally tracks them down, Sybil is summoned back to a kingdom that remembers her only as its missing heir.

Betrayed by her hybrid fiancé, who abandoned her to marry the princess of their kingdom, Sybil made a decision that will shake three kingdoms.

She returned. Not for love. Not for duty. For revenge…

But the throne comes with chains.

Instead of marrying one Alpha, she is fated to four Alpha Guardians of Lupenreich.

Sybil cannot feel her wolf, for it was caged deep within her soul. She cannot smell her mates. She is a Lycan princess trapped in a wolfless body.

While her four Alphas believe they are claiming their future Luna and Queen, Sybil is already planning something far more dangerous.

She will not stand beside a king.

She will not be used to breed to secure bloodlines.

And she certainly will not be ruled.

If the kingdom wants a queen… They’re about to kneel to a rebel queen.

Because Sybil von Rosen is not an ordinary Luna.

She is the last Lycan heir. The forbidden daughter of witches. The mate of four Alpha Guardians.

And she intends to take the throne for herself and will bow to no one.

They told me my daughter drowned. Too much to drink, a slick deck, a terrible accident.

Then they put a number on her, slid the check across the table, and asked me to sign away the right to ever ask how she died.

I signed.

They didn't ask what I'd do after.

I changed my name. I spent three years earning a desk in their building, close enough to hear the man who buried her joke about the father who "made some noise, took the money, and went away."

He doesn't know my face. None of them do.

They thought the money bought my silence.

They have no idea what it bought.

I’m a retired Special Forces soldier. After I got out, I handled problems people didn’t want on paper, and I’ve seen enough dirty work to last a lifetime.

When I finally retired for real, I wanted a normal life.

So I came back to the orphanage where I grew up, planning to adopt a quiet seven-year-old boy I’d kept in touch with for years.

But the moment I arrived, I was told he’d already been “adopted.”

I called the family to make sure he was safe. On the line he said, “I’m fine.”
Then I heard it—fingernails tapping in a pattern: three short, three long, three short.

The distress signal I had taught him.

I stormed into the director’s office and forced the truth out: the adoption papers were fake. He wasn’t taken into a home. He was sold.

They think I’m just a returning orphanage worker.
They have no idea what I’ve done out there—and no idea I’m very good at cleaning up this kind of mess.

An epic cold snap struck, causing temperatures to plummet to minus eighty degrees Celsius.
My fiancée and best friend occupied my hillside villa, laughing hysterically as they watched a video of me nearly freezing to death.
In their eyes, once I turned into a solid block of ice, they could rightfully inherit my vast fortune and live in this warm, doomsday Noah's Ark.
But what they didn't know was that the video was n't real at all .
I stood in the temperature-controlled bunker twenty meters below them and cut off their main power.
The hunt was about to begin.

My wife was a fearsome Mafia queen in Chicago.
On the anniversary of our daughter's death, she didn't show up.
When I arrived, the male college student she was keeping was trampling on my daughter's black-and-white portrait.
Instead of scolding him, my wife shielded him in her arms: "Marco was just a child, why are you arguing with him?"
She thought I would be like a dog, forever subservient to her for wealth and power, enduring her betrayal.
Until I discovered the true cause of my daughter's tragic death—
I simply pulled out a gun and pressed the muzzle against her forehead.

At Nico's funeral, the screen of the phone in my hand suddenly lit up, and I accidentally answered a FaceTime call from the Dario Falcone of three years ago.
On the screen, he was still wearing that faded leather jacket, the scar above his brow left from protecting me.
He was still a penniless bodyguard, clutching my ultrasound report with barely contained excitement, his eyes shining:
"Vittoria, isn't our baby adorable?"
"Do you think it's a strong little boy or a beautiful little girl?"
"No matter who he takes after, I'll protect him with my life."
I knelt on the cold floor, staring silently at him.
The Dario from three years ago sensed that something was wrong. The smile slowly froze on his face.
The next second, the heavy church doors were kicked open.
The priest's prayer came to an abrupt stop.
The Dario of three years later, the terrifying Mafia Don, strode inside.
His tailored suit was immaculate, while the bodyguards behind him roughly knocked over the wreaths lining the aisle.
He stopped in front of me, his voice cold and utterly emotionless.
"Vittoria, you actually staged a fake funeral for your own son just to get revenge on Colette. You really are sick."
I didn't look up or acknowledge his fury. I simply stared at the bodyguard on the screen from three years ago, the one who looked utterly bewildered.
Then, numb, I turned the phone around and pointed it at the tiny white coffin in the center of the hall.
Looking at the screen, I answered the man's question from three years ago.
"A boy. He was adorable, and he had eyes just like yours."
"But he's already dead."

I was an orphan, and a rare heart condition ate away at me for twenty years. The night I died in that cold hospital room, a reaper in a black robe came for me.

He told me if I crossed into a world of werewolves, into the Moonheart Pack, and made Estelle's family genuinely love me — Estelle being the real daughter who'd died a horrible death there — and if I rewrote the ending where they all went mad and tore each other apart, I'd get my health back for good. A second life.

For twenty years in that body, I loved every single one of them with everything I had.

My husband Rhett was the youngest Alpha the pack had ever had. I mentioned once that I wanted Alaskan wild berries, and he drove a thousand miles overnight to get them. My mother Sylvia, the pack's head healer, made me tonics herself every single day. My father Everett and my brother Callum spoiled me so much the whole pack envied me for it.

I thought I'd actually rewritten my fate. I thought I was the happiest person alive.

Until that night.

I'm carrying a berry pie I baked myself toward the council hall when I hear my mother's voice, flat and cold.

"Estelle's heart is finally in perfect condition. Now's the best time to take it."

"Her heart buys Lila's life. She should be grateful for it." Rhett says it like it's nothing. "Once we take the heart, I'll dissolve the mate bond myself."

So this is it. All that kindness was just to grow a healthy heart for their adopted girl.

Three years. I've spent three years trying to love them, to thaw them out, to change things.

Then let it end here.

Five years ago, my fiancée and a chaebol heir broke my ribs and threw me into the sewer like trash.

Five years later, they implanted a neurotoxin bomb into the back of my sister's neck, forcing me on all fours to crawl between the security guards' legs into their engagement banquet at a Manhattan penthouse hotel.

My ex-fiancée poured champagne over my wounds, while the chaebol heir ground caviar into the muddy water with his leather shoes, forcing me to lick it clean like a dog.

The room full of Wall Street elites laughed at my humiliation, thinking I was still the same bottom-tier temp worker from back then.

They had no idea that through my micro-earpiece, a heavy armored division was already on standby under the cover of night.

When the confirmation came that the bomb had been defused, I slowly stood up straight.

Outside the window, engines roared. Ten heavy Black Hawk helicopters tore through the curtain of rain, their heavy machine guns instantly shattering the banquet hall's reinforced glass.

Looking down at the chaebol heir who was now slumped in the muddy water, I drew my sidearm: "The debt from five years ago—today, I'm collecting it with your family's lives."

I was Ethan Blake's perfect mistress for five years, adhering faithfully to his rules of secrecy and obedience.

I knew his coffee preferences, his pre-meeting anxieties, yet it wasn't until his arranged-marriage partner returned that I understood I was merely a replaceable 'item' in his life plan.

When my mother passed and the pressure of medical bills vanished, I realized for the first time — that contract with its monthly transfers had bought not just my time, but my very right to say 'no' to him.

And now, when I no longer need his money...

This transaction, forged in the name of bondage, will be terminated by me.

Lana Moore wakes up from an accident that changed her life with memories that are full of holes and the name of a stranger on her lips. Adrian.
It's cold. Strong and untouchable.
And somehow connected to everything she can't remember.

Lana is taken to Paris under the pretense of safety, but she has to live next to a man whose eyes show both rage and desire. Adrian Blackwood is a billionaire with secrets that go deeper than the Seine and feelings he won't talk about. Lana finds old letters, hidden pictures, and a kiss from the past that she can't deny anymore, and their fragile truce is broken.

Lana starts to see the truth as rumours of betrayal spread and new enemies close in:

Adrian might have loved her at one time.
He might still love her now.
But he could also be the one who wanted her to leave.

Lana has to find out the truth about the man who protects and hurts her on the glittering streets of Paris, where there are rooftop confessions, masked desires, and storms that break both the sky and the heart.

Is he the love of her life?
Or the reason her life fell apart?

Danger comes back when memory comes back.
And the truth could destroy them both.

Corinne Baxter's father was an accountant. Quiet, careful, the kind of man who alphabetized the spice rack. Then someone puts a bullet in him and calls it a robbery. The only thing he leaves her is a claim ticket for a safety deposit box registered under a name she's never heard: Sorrentino.
To open that box, she needs Griffin Sorrentino, heir to the family half the city is afraid of, and the man everyone says ordered the hit. Griffin agrees to help her. He also refuses to explain why. Every answer he gives creates two more questions, and every night she spends inside his house convinces her a little more that the danger isn't coming from him.
It's coming from the one person she trusted enough to call for help.

When that dealer tortured me, my dad, a narcotics cop, and my mom, the city’s chief medical examiner, were busy celebrating my sister’s win in the volleyball semifinals. To get back at my dad for destroying his drug network three years earlier, that man cut my throat. Right before I died, I called my dad. Before I hung up, he said, “Cut it out. Serena’s game is what mattered most right now.”

My organs are failing, rotting from years of toxic lab work.
My only life-saving antidote was stolen by my husband and biased parents, given to adopted sister, Ivy.
I gave up any chance to live, injecting strong painkillers to endure crippling agony.
The price I paid: only three days until my organs shut down completely.
During those three days, I surrendered everything I owned:
I handed over the Ghost formula that monopolized the black market, and my mafia parents looked utterly relieved;
Marcus laid divorce papers before me. I signed without a second thought, and said I’d finally become sensible;
The day before my death, I spent the whole day out with my son, yet he only wanted Ivy for his mother;
I gifted Aphrodite, the beauty serum, as my husband and Ivy‘s wedding present, and every single one praised me for finally being meek and mild.
I thought myself:
When I’m dead, will they feel remorse for the things they’ve done to me?

"That man hurt you, and I have avenged you."
The moment the dark knight tossed the severed head of her rapist at her feet, Celene's fate was sealed.
Once the beloved princess of Andreia, she lost everything when her father died—betrayed by her murderous stepmother, conquered by the tyrant King Japhet, and brutalized by royal guards.
Left for dead in a secret cell, she is saved only by a mysterious knight who offers her vengeance… in exchange for her loyalty.
Framed for regicide and condemned to the Forest of the Damned, a cursed realm of monsters and magic, Celene faces a choice no princess should ever have to make: die a traitor, or pledge herself to a dark power that will remake her body, her blood, and her destiny.
Now, hunted by armies, haunted by a goddess's bargain, and torn between the knight who saved her and the prince who wants her destroyed, Celene must decide.
Will she unleash the wrath of a cursed princess to burn her enemies to ash… or embrace the power within to stop a war that will consume both worlds?

Hate.

Oh yes, I fucking hate Chase Hartley. I mean he's... cocky, a college hockey star, and to top it all, he's my soon-to-be stepbrother. Because my dad decided to get married and have me trapped under the same roof with him for the entire summer.

But everything changed the day we kissed.

Everything turned forbidden.

WARNING: THIS NOVEL IS SPICY. LESS HOCKEY. MUCH SEX

She saved his life. Now he’ll stop at nothing to claim hers.

Isla Monroe never expected to become entangled with the most feared man in Valmont City. As a struggling medical student haunted by her past, she only wanted to help when she saw a man drowning in a frozen lake. But the moment she pulled him from the icy depths, her fate was sealed.

That man was Lorenzo De Luca—billionaire, mafia boss, and a man who had given up on life. When he wakes in Isla’s tiny apartment, his first instinct is suspicion, not gratitude. In his world, kindness is a weakness, and trust is a death sentence. But Isla isn’t afraid of him, and that makes her dangerous.

Lorenzo disappears, but Isla isn’t free of him. A year later, he storms back into her life—not to thank her, but to claim her. His enemies have learned about the woman who saved him, and now she’s a target. The only way to keep her safe is to pull her into his dangerous world.

Saving him was just the beginning. Loving him might be her downfall.

In my past life, I stopped my brother from donating a kidney to save his high school lover.
Lily didn't receive a transplant in time and died soon after.
Caleb kept his kidney. He passed the rookie draft physical, signed a max contract with a top team, and became the darling of the basketball world.
But he hated me for the rest of his life.

My parents called me cold and heartless. They said I killed Lily and destroyed Caleb's one true love.
Later, when Caleb hit a low point and needed someone to blame, my parents held me down while Arthur shattered my right hand.
They destroyed my career, drained my bank account, and left me to die of a raging fever in a rundown apartment.

Now, I open my eyes.
And I will never be their scapegoat again.

On our first wedding anniversary, I walked into my husband's office and found him having sex with my best friend.

He didn't even apologize. Instead, claiming he was disgusted that I hadn't produced an heir in a year of marriage, he threw divorce papers in my face.

Five years later, I returned to New York with my new husband—Cassian Vitiello, the Godfather of the North American underworld.

Vincent ran into me at the docks. He handed me a business card, offering me a job as a nanny for his mistress's son.

What he didn't know was that the woman he was mocking was now the Donna—the woman the entire East Coast underground feared.

My wife was forced to don a wedding dress to marry my sworn enemy, while my three-year-old daughter was locked in an iron cage suspended above the raging sea.

And I, the dignified Commander-in-Chief of the Blackwater Fleet, was forced to wear a dog collar, kneeling on broken glass and licking up red wine like a crippled stray dog.
All because embedded in their necks were biological bombs, the detonator held in the hands of my enemy.

The elites of the entire island ruthlessly mocked my cowardice, trampling me underfoot in ultimate humiliation.

That was until the climax of the maritime wedding, when my enemy smugly pressed the detonator, only for the collars to flash a safe green light—the full-frequency signal decryption was complete.
Amidst the dead silence of the crowd, I snapped the forged steel chains binding me and slowly stood tall.

The next second, ten nuclear-powered submarines violently breached the ocean surface, and tens of thousands of heavily armored death squads descended from the sky.

Looking at my enemy, now terrified to the point of incontinence and shattering his own knees to frantically kowtow and beg for mercy, I picked up that very dog chain and slipped it around his neck.

I was frozen for 100 years due to illness.
One hundred years later, the whole world was ravaged by strange phenomena, and humanity was huddled together in a few small places to survive.
I was awakened from my slumber by the investigation team. I thought I would be killed by the monster as soon as I woke up, but I found that the monster here was my good brother from college.
Besides him, the eerie owner of the barbecue restaurant, the matchmaking ghost who likes to harm people through blind dates, the S-class monstrous ghost in the cemetery... they are all my old friends...
The world a hundred years from now feels strangely familiar...

To save my cousin from a car accident, my mother, a medical luminary, used me as a "human guinea pig" for twelve years.
When I was twelve, she made me inject myself with three injections of unproven new drugs every week;
when I was fourteen, she directly shoved toxic compounds into my mouth.
When my organs were irreversibly failing and I was vomiting blood in the ICU, she coldly tossed me a payment order:
"Stop pretending to be dead. Immediately kowtow and apologize to your brother, or no hospital will admit you."
As she wished, I was forced to leave the hospital and died at her glamorous new drug launch.
Later, that high-and-mighty mother, obsessed with fame and fortune, knelt for an entire night in a snow-covered fir forest, holding my crudely made urn.
Sadly, I will never forgive her.

In my previous life, an extreme cold apocalypse descended.

I risked my life nine times over to evolve into a high-tier Ice Plains Wolf, and just to find a piece of meat to keep my fiancée alive, I frantically tore apart wild beasts in the snow. Yet I was betrayed by her and her lover—they cut out my heart with an ice blade!

When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn half a month before the apocalypse!

Time was running out. To awaken the highest tier of beast-human form, I needed an enormous amount of meat to provide energy.

Sports cars? Ocean-view villas? Billions in assets? I wanted none of it!

I immediately dumped my manipulative fiancée, liquidated all my assets into cash, bought a fully enclosed fortified meat processing plant, and frantically stockpiled hundreds of thousands of tons of high-calorie raw meat!

The extreme cold arrived as expected, turning the entire city into a frozen hellscape.

The scumbag pair who betrayed me in my previous life now knelt outside my impregnable airlock door, crying pitifully and begging me for scraps.

I stepped out of my fortress and looked down at them with claws sharp enough to tear through steel:

"Want meat? Go to hell and eat dirt!"

I was never supposed to exist in the Blood Moon Pack, low-born, no surname, no family to shield me.
Yet the Alpha chose me and called me “his one and only mate for this lifetime”.
He said he loved me.
So I endured. I stepped back. I forgave him again and again.
Until the day I was pushed down the stairs, dragged into the punishment grounds, strapped to an electric restraint bed, and heard them calmly discussing how far they should go this time; what kind of punishment would finally make the “real family” feel at ease?
That was when I understood in their world, I wasn’t a mate. I wasn’t family. I wasn’t even seen as a person. I was just a bargaining chip, but something disposable, something meant to be sacrificed when convenient.
So I learned to stay quiet, to remember everything, and to wait.
They thought I died in that fire.
But when I stepped back into the moonlight, I was no longer an Omega.

Seven years ago, I signed a mate contract as Luna.
For my mother’s dying wish and for the Pack’s stability, I personally pushed a man with nothing to his name onto the Alpha throne.
I held the Pack together for him, expanded our businesses, and handled the filthy negotiations and the deals no one wanted to see in the light.
Everyone said—
I was calm, I was formidable, I was qualified.
Just… not much like a “gentle mate.”
Until that day.
I stood in the bedroom and watched my Alpha husband lay his hand over my paralyzed stepsister’s slightly rounded belly.
They told me it was for the greater good of the Pack.
That child would be registered under my name.
He would call me Mother.
I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream.
I just waited for the seven-year term to hit its end and activated the trust clause my mother left behind.
Accounts frozen.
Capital withdrawn.
The wolf empire I built with my own hands collapsed overnight.

“You are a danger to my health, AVIANA, let me have you,” Duncan drawled, his hands on my waist, pulling me against his hard member.

“I…I… “ i stammered. Even though I knew n was getting myself into dangerous territory, I couldn't stop myself from wanting him. Ever part of my body was screaming for his touch and I could no longer deny his touch.

“Tell me yes, let me pleasure your body,” he whispered against my neck,”

I moaned out involuntarily and before I could stop myself, I yelled,
“Please, fuck me!”

Aviana Grey is not just another woman with a vendetta—she’s a sharp, relentless detective who spent nearly two decades chasing shadows, determined to uncover the truth about her mother’s murder at the hands of the Iron Vine Mafia. After years of preparation, she finally gains the opportunity to infiltrate the Mafia, but her plans take an unexpected turn when she meets Duncan, their ruthless leader and Alpha werewolf. As she delves deeper into their world, she discovers secrets that blur the line between human and monster—and finds herself irresistibly drawn to the one man she’s sworn to destroy.

The childhood love between “Kab Kluen” and “He Xing Yi” began with the close bond between their families, tied together by a promise that the two would one day marry.
But fate had other plans.
When Kab Kluen’s family had to return to Thailand permanently,
distance and time caused He Xing Yi to forget that childhood vow.
He found love with someone new and had no interest in marrying Kab Kluen anymore.
Yet fate intervened again.
On his deathbed, Kab Kluen’s father made one final request:
that He Xing Yi marry his son.
Though unwilling, He Xing Yi had no choice but to comply.
What followed were two long years of a marriage in name only.
Kab Kluen gave his all, hoping that one day, He Xing Yi would love him back.
But in return, he was met only with indifference… and heartbreak, again and again.
Where will this love—so painfully one-sided—ultimately lead?
Even Kab Kluen himself doesn’t know the answer…

I have been tormented by a strange illness for ten years, with blood draws and surgeries being commonplace.
My mother always encouraged me, saying, "Nian Nian, bear with it a little longer. The pain will be over soon. Mom and Dad are doing this to save your life."
Hoping to be cured as soon as possible, I gritted my teeth and endured ten years of painful treatments, even if it meant living like a lab subject.
That was until I accidentally overheard my parents’ cruel conversation:
“Increase the blood draw even more. It doesn’t matter if she dies—she was only picked up to save Ying Ying. As long as she has a breath left, she owes it to us.”
At that moment, I finally understood: I was never sick at all.
The decade of daily treatments were nothing but a way to use me to extend the life of their biological daughter.

In my past life, I drained my own dragon blood to help my husband, Flark, ascend into a dragon. I nearly sacrificed my life to bear him our dragon-beast son, Fris. Yet, all I received in return was ruthless betrayal.
Flark personally brought me a cup of deadly poison, sneering that my lowborn white snake blood had stained the noble dragon race.
Even Fris, the son I raised with my own hands, threw my true body to the giant eagles without a shred of mercy. He cold-bloodedly declared that only my half-sister, Bryn, was worthy of all the glory.
As my flesh was torn apart in agonizing despair, I died harboring endless hatred—only to be reborn on the day of the marriage selection.
This time, Flark got his wish. He publicly abandoned me, joyfully choosing to marry my half-sister Bryn, foolishly believing he could use her power to leap into dragonhood.
What he would never know was that I—the one he so trashily threw away—was the true possessor of the pure Dragon Bloodline.

Seven years ago I gave up my inheritance and went door to door with Nolan—a broke director shooting street documentaries—my belly out to here, begging investors to take a chance on him.

Everyone said I'd thrown my life away on him.

Seven years later he's a name everyone knows. And Emily, the first love who walked out when he had nothing, is back in Chicago with her daughter.

That afternoon I came home early and heard him pull five-year-old Ivy into his arms: "You can't ever tell Mom that Daddy and Emily are having a fake wedding."

"But Daddy, Mom will be so sad..."

"Say one word and Daddy won't love you anymore. Got it?"

Her little shoulders shook as she nodded, and nodded.

Out in the hallway, I couldn't even be bothered to cry.

I dialed the number I'd kept blocked for seven years. "Dad—can the family plane still come get me and Ivy?"

Nolan, what you lost wasn't a housewife you could push around. You threw away the only person who ever made you her whole world.

Once, I was the Golden Dragon Princess, loved by my family and cherished by the man I would have died for. Then one accusation shattered everything. My dragon core was sealed, and I was cast into the frozen abyss to repent for a crime I never committed. Three years later, I died alone beneath the endless snow—on the very day my fiancé was set to marry my sister, the one who framed me. He stared at my lifeless face, trembling. “Seraphina… please wake up.”

Beta Malcolm and I were at the Civil Affairs Bureau, ready to register our marriage. We were just waiting to take the final photo when he got a phone call and left.
He abandoned me right there at the marriage registration office, leaving me stuck in an impossible situation.
I called him—no answer.
I messaged him—no reply.
In the end, I had no choice but to call his childhood sweetheart’s number. Beta Malcolm answered.
“Rowena, can you stop being so annoying? Queenie twisted her ankle—I need to take care of her today. Stop calling and waking her up. We’ll reschedule the registration.”
I bit my lip and murmured into the phone,
“This makes it the seventh time we’ve rescheduled.”
“So what? The Civil Affairs Bureau isn’t going anywhere—it’s not like it’s going to disappear!”
My face was blank, but it felt like my heart was being carved open.
A staff member looked at me with pity and asked,
“Alpha Rowena, are we still doing this?”
I gave a small nod.
“Yes. Let’s go through with it.”