3052 Book(s) Related to my strange husband

I died once—pushed in front of a bullet for my adopted sister by my own brother.
Now I'm back.
And I'm done being the family doormat.

My so-called family stole my tennis spot, sabotaged my career, and handed everything to their precious adopted daughter. This time? I walked out, took back my club, and I'm playing the WwA tournament on my own terms.

They broke me once.
They won't get a second chance.

Their whole relationship was a bet.

She was THE bet. Not the girl. Not the girlfriend. The bet, scrawled on a napkin in a locker room while his teammates laughed. Whoever could sleep with the quiet nerdy girl first won. And Ryan Beckett? He won easy.

She found out in a group chat. Every detail and the humiliation swallowed her whole, even worse when he didn't even have the decency to feel bad about it.

Lena doesn't know hockey. But she knows statistics, probability, and exactly how to turn a losing player into a weapon. And Cole Beckett — Ryan's older, meaner, asshole older brother, is one bad season away from losing everything.

She finds him first.

The deal is humiliating to propose and she knows it. Be her fake boyfriend. Make Ryan lose his mind watching her on his brother's arm. In return, she'll do what no coach has managed: she'll get Cole to that championship.

But what started as a plan to make her dumb ex livid becomes something even more igniting, far more than she could have imagined.

"Is there a reason why I shouldn't fuck your brains out right now?" he ask and I shudder.
"Nnn... Nooo! I don't have a reason," I stutter.
"Good! I am about to forget you are my princess and fuck you like a slut," he promises as he fucks me.
"I am a slut, only for you," I murmur.


I have always had a crush on my dad's best friend but Jack never saw me as a woman and rather he always referred to me as a child and treated me just like one. Just that, something ws soff in the eau he looked at me and spoke to me from time to time. I could feel the need in his voice and fire in his eyes.

So when my parents had to leave for some days and he was asked to take care of me I knew that was the only chance I will ever get at making my feelings known to him and to know whether or not what I saw was real ot if I wasn't Hallucinating. The first few nights were tough and he kept off saying I was off limits to him, but what if I am not and he is only trying to send me away bechause of the lady I saw him kissing the other night?

You don’t marry the devil and expect to walk away…

Two years ago, I made the most reckless decision of my life. I married a stranger — a dangerously sharp Russian with eyes like winter storms and a voice that curled around your spine.

It was supposed to be fake.
A quick, quiet wedding on a borrowed yacht.
A loophole to stop my billionaire father from selling me off to some corporate puppet in a boardroom marriage.

But the stranger-the man I begged for help—wasn’t just some wealthy businessman in an expensive suit. He was Mikhail Volkov. A Bratva king. Cold. Ruthless. Calculating.

I left him divorce papers and two million dollars on his bed the next morning… and vanished.

But the past doesn’t stay buried. And men like him don’t forget unfinished business.

Two years later, under a new name and a quiet life halfway across the world, I thought I was safe. Until my new company gets bought out. By him.

Mikhail Volkov.

He came for me.

And this time, running isn’t an option.

“Why the hell are you calling me your wife?” I snap, shoving the contract across his desk. “I paid you off. I left divorce papers. Signed.”

He steps closer, all tailored dominance and lethal calm, his voice low enough to scrape against my bones.
"You don’t end things with me unless I say so, moya zhena. And I don’t marry… to divorce."

I’m not free. I’m his unfinished business. And now? I belong to him… whether I want to or not.

"Everyone is watching, don’t make a fool of me,” My tone turns sinister, provocative. “It’s just an I do. Say. It.”
“No! I can’t!” she breathes out.


Viktoria Malchov was only a child when her world ended in blood and gunfire—one Christmas night that wiped out her entire family. Seven years later, she has learned to survive.
To bury the screams.
To forget the past.
Until the day she’s forced into a marriage she never chose… to a man she has never met.
Or so she thought.
Because the man waiting for her at the altar is not a stranger.
He is her past.
Her only surviving relative—Maksim ‘Misha’ Malchov.

Tessa has just kissed stepbrothers Mason and Bennett.
They decide they don't like sharing and now she has to choose between them.

"Bennett is calm and cruel.
Mason is reckless and rude.
I've been a good girl and stayed out of their way,
but they'll do everything in their power to force me to do
the one thing I've never been able to do.
Choose between the Slade brothers.
They'll have to kill me first.
I've seen what they're capable of.
So maybe they can..."

She's my best friend's sister, which meant she was off-limits. But I could never keep my distance, because I had always wanted Mia.
I tried hard to resist my feelings for her, yet, I couldn't. So, I walked away, thinking it was the right thing to do.
Now, ten years later, I've made a name for myself. I'm a billionaire with everything I ever dreamed of—except for one thing: Mia.
When I see her again, she's not the shy girl I once knew. No, she's confident, strong, and still the one person who has the power to make me lose control.
However, she's also cold and distant, treating me like just another client, a stranger. She has every reason to hate me. But this time, I'm not walking away.

"Don’t... stop...” she implored before she moaned again.

“I must say, this interview didn't go quite how I expected it.” He admitted. His featherlight finger dragged across her boobs as his face hovers over hers.

“Are you ready to work hard for me? I don’t promise to go easy on you.” He whispered in her ear.

“Oh... Yes....” She moaned out, “Anything you need,” she whispered.

Isabella walked into the busy halls of Grayson’s Enterprise with the full intention of getting hired as the Supervisor of Ethan Grayson, The CEO of the company.

It was time for her interview with the CEO, their eyes met.

He had the kind of face that stopped you in your tracks.

And from that day after Isabella had gotten the job, she knew something hot was going to happen between them although he was engaged already."

Berliana Margaretha is a robot inventor who is so telling in her circles. She was the first to develop a method of making a robot like a normal human being and she has secretly done that and made a robot that looks so much like her dead ex-boyfriend.

She named the robot Victor Valdes, almost the same name as her boyfriend. But one day the robot she created went out of control and made her feel that the handsome human-like robot had begun to dominate her.

"You are mine, Berliana Margaretha."

"Oh my God, Victor! You're a robot so go back to your place, don't move!"

"No way, I'm your boyfriend, you're my girlfriend."

Would Berliana's rejection continue to escalate or would she be swept away by the passion of the artificially intelligent robot she had created that almost resembled a human being?

"Let me show you what it feels like to be a woman again, Dahlia. Just for tonight, Seb doesn't have to know... You know I can keep a secret," Zane smirks darkly.

I swallow hard, my eyes darting between his gaze and his lips as an intense wave of forbidden heat sears through me.


Dahlia Sterling has been engaged to her boyfriend, Sebastian Thorne, after five years of dating.

To the outside world, they seem like the perfect couple. And in many ways, they are. But behind closed doors, Dahlia's sex life with Sebastian is miserable and unfulfilling.

Despite countless counseling sessions and therapeutic efforts to fix the problem, nothing changes, especially since Sebastian constantly shames Dahlia for struggling with what he believes is a sex addiction.

Everything changes when Dahlia crosses paths with Sebastian's estranged older brother, Zane Thorne — a man who has secretly been in love with his brother's fiancée for years.

Zane once believed Dahlia was genuinely happy with Sebastian — That was the only thing that kept him from pursuing her initially. But the moment he realizes the truth, he makes it his mission to rescue her from her misery. By fucking her brains out and awakening emotions in her she can no longer ignore.

Now, she's caught between the Thorne brothers. One is her fiancé—her Mr. Sunshine, who could never love her the way she yearns to be loved. The other is his complete opposite—a man who would burn the world to the ground if it meant putting a smile on her face.

NB: This book is purely a dark romance. R18+.

This istory is about the forbidden love between Maddison más her boss and father's best friend. A forbidden love that leads her yo commit César things to forget those social projudices se grew up with.

What happens when the king of the school needs the one girl he once broke?

Elowen Bennett’s life has always been simple, quiet days, a small circle, and staying invisible enough to survive high school unnoticed. After a brutal betrayal by her boyfriend and her best friend, she’s done trusting people.

Especially him.

Alaric Hayes, the hockey captain, golden boy, and the same person who made her middle school years unbearable.

So when he suddenly wants her close… too close, it doesn’t make sense.

But Alaric isn’t doing this for fun.

Under his father’s orders, he needs something from Elowen, something tied to a dangerous past and a secret that could destroy both her and her mother. Getting close to her is just part of the plan.

Pretend to care. Gain her trust. Get the information.

Simple.

Until it’s not.

Because the more time he spends with her, the harder it becomes to remember this was never supposed to be real.

And when the truth finally comes out…

Elowen won’t just lose her heart.

She might lose everything.

On the night of her wedding, Helen Smith was attacked by a stranger.
Since then, every night has been a nightmare she cannot escape.

By day, she plays the role of the perfect wife, caring for her gravely ill husband whom she barely knows.
By night, she’s haunted by fear, shame, and a faceless man who takes what he wants in the dark.

Trapped in a golden cage of secrets and silence, Helen begins to question everything: her marriage, the man she married, and the terrifying truth that may be hiding just beneath the surface.

Because in this house, nothing is what it seems.
And the greatest betrayal is yet to come.

After a devastating accident erased six months of her memory, Jasmine Reyes returns home only to find a mysterious boy watching her from the window across the street every single day. She thinks he's obsessed. She doesn't remember that she once loved him or that the accident that nearly killed her was never an accident at all. As buried memories resurface, Jasmine uncovers a deadly conspiracy, a forgotten first love, and a truth powerful enough to get them both killed.

PROLOGUE
WYNTER'S POV
I ran blindly through the bushes, looking back every few feet I got, the twigs scratched at me and the leaves roped round my feet but I didn't care. The owls were hooting loudly and mysteriously but I couldn't hear it, all I heard was the insane pounding of my heart.
I fell all of a sudden and wanted to bounce right back on my feet but the pain was more than I could ignore. I could hear their voices somewhere behind me and they were fast approaching mercilessly. I didn't even know when I let out a loud groan from all the pain i felt. I was injured and in a highly critical condition and was adding more injuries by the second.
My hair stuck to my scalp in cold sweat and my whole body shook in fear but I knew I had to keep moving. With all the strength in me, I rose to my feet with a gasp.
"She's over there! Get her!! No one's returning without getting her!!! And she's definitely not getting away!" The Leader screamed behind and I turned, taking another path crying as i went.
I stopped as blood flowed freely from my injuries. I needed to hide. I looked around frantically but there seemed to be nothing but tall trees i couldn't hope to climb. Then i felt it in my pocket, the shot I had taken before it all started. I brought out the syringe with shaking hands as tears ran freely down my face.
I held the needle to the vein on my arm knowing fully well that it could kill me as I was too weak for it. It was supposed to make me numb and cold for a few minutes but apart from

I thought escaping my yandere ex-girlfriend was the hardest thing I’d ever do.
Then, the apocalypse began.
For six grueling months, I slaved away in a survivor shelter, doing everything to survive.
But gratitude doesn’t exist in the wasteland.
To secure rations, the shelter leaders decided to betray me, trading me away like cattle to a rival superpower base.
As I was dragged out, leaving my old shelter to its inevitable doom, I braced myself for the worst at the new base.
But when I was brought before their ruthless, all-powerful leader, the blood in my veins ran cold.
Sitting on the throne was the very woman who used to drug me, cage me, and possess me.
My psycho ex.
And she’s been looking for me.

My boyfriend was pretending to be poor.
I figured it out not long after we started dating. He would throw away body wash bottles the second the pump stopped working, and he dumped out the gray water I’d been saving to flush the toilet. When I caught him, he gave me this perfectly innocent look. "Aren't you just supposed to pour dirty water down the drain?"
We’d pass a street food cart selling those cheap processed sausages—three bucks for one, five for two. He’d squeeze my hand and say, "Look, babe, we're saving a whole dollar." He played the part of the thrifty boyfriend flawlessly.
I never called him out on it. Mostly because I was sitting on a secret of my own—one I had no intention of sharing.
That was, until I woke up in the middle of the night and saw him texting his buddy in the dark.
His friend had sent: Girls like her are just for fun. Let me test her out for you. I flash a little cash, and she'll come crawling.
He stared at the screen, hesitating for what felt like forever. Finally, he typed a single word: Yeah.
I just closed my eyes and went back to sleep.
The very next day, his rich little buddy strolled into the coffee shop where I worked. He slid a sleek bank card across the counter. "There’s thirty grand on this," he said. "Consider yourself bought."
Rich people always love testing the moral fiber of the poor.
But who made the rule that they're the only ones allowed to give the test?

For three years, Caleb Vance and I were the two most mismatched people at Hometown Beans.
We fought every single day, couldn't stand the sight of each other — even Frank, our boss, just assumed it was a matter of time before we tore the place apart.
But I never expected that after one of our fights, an accident would cost me my memory.
And I definitely never expected to wake up to find the man I hated most in the world, his eyes red, telling the doctor:
"I'm her boyfriend. We've been together for three years."
Except I remember perfectly well that we were never together.
So when I decided to fake amnesia, I had no idea I was about to uncover a secret that would upend three years of bad blood between us.
And it all started the day Frank announced he'd be handing Hometown Beans over to one of us.

To piss off my ex-husband, I ordered a companion android from his company—one with his exact face. I've been breaking it in every night for a month.
Then Genesis Bionics customer service sent me an email:
[Dear Ms. Rachel Knight, your custom order has not yet shipped. Please be patient.]
I looked up at the android buttering toast in my kitchen, my mind going completely blank.
Then who the hell is in my house?

In my previous life, the apocalypse struck. I entrusted my last hope of survival to my best friend of twenty years, but the moment the zombies swarmed, he unhesitatingly pushed me into the horde to be his shield. My girlfriend of three years, standing high above, watched coldly, her face filled with relief at shedding a burden.

In the excruciating pain of being bitten to death, I was reborn 72 hours before the apocalypse.

Looking at the messages from that despicable couple on my phone, I calmly blocked and deleted them, then cashed out all my assets, hoarding three million US dollars worth of top-tier weaponry and massive amounts of supplies. The apocalypse

arrived as expected. When my scheming girlfriend and betrayed brother were chased like dogs by zombies, kneeling before my fortress, frantically begging for mercy,

I sat atop a mountain of supplies, holding an infinitely replicating spatial ring, a gun pressed against his kneecap, and sneered: "Want to live? Never in this lifetime."

In this life, I will not be a saint; I will be the sole king of this post-apocalyptic wasteland.

My mom tricked me into a blind date on my thirtieth birthday.

I got stuck in traffic and showed up thirty minutes late, fully expecting a lecture about manners.

Instead, I heard a man's voice through the door.

"So she's thirty. And?"

"You say she's too picky. Have you looked in a mirror lately?"

"You don't like how much she works. Are you signing her paychecks?"

I pushed the door open.

He was in a black shirt, glass of water in hand, perfectly calm. My aunt's face had gone purple.

He saw me and stood up.

"Hi. I'm your blind date."

"I've already been through your relatives once."

"Anything you'd like to add?"

My husband and parents wanted me dead. All because my sister was "dying."

They shoved a divorce agreement and an experimental surgery consent form at me.

I was supposed to be her donor.

But they didn't know I was the one actually dying.

Three days ago, they told me I had terminal bone cancer.

One month to live.

So when they threatened me into some back-alley surgery, I smiled.

I was already dying anyway.

"You're too brilliant, Lyra. It makes me sick. I had to ruin MIT for you, just so you'd never leave me."

I died in a puddle of my own blood on a rainy night, watching the boy I’d known for eighteen years walk away with Alice, the varsity cheerleader. No ambulance. Just taillights disappearing into the dark.

But instead of fading to black, I blink and find myself staring at my Common App dashboard. Three hours left until submission closes.

The MIT Aerospace Engineering major I bled for is gone, secretly replaced by some trash-tier community college. This time, I don’t scream or throw a fit. I just fix the application and hit save.

Keep that garbage school, Will. Let's see if they still accept you from behind bars.

Oak Creek thinks my brother, Cole, is a saint. He saved the family legacy and adopted the orphaned daughter of a killer out of the goodness of his heart.
What they don’t know is the price of his halo: Me.
To keep his 'good guy' image, he sacrificed his real sister. He gave her my bed, my home, and my parents.
When I was driven out of town, sleeping in a vandalized trailer, he left me a note: Come home and apologize.
I did come back. But not to apologize.
I'm holding the microphone at the town's biggest festival, looking down at the two thousand people who threw trash at me.
I have a stack of receipts, an unedited tape, and the truth about how my parents really died.
Are you ready to meet the real Hale family?

Just before Easter, my husband, Ethan Cole, surprised me by arranging a weeklong trip to Switzerland.
In ten years of marriage, it was the first time he had ever planned a vacation for me.
I thought he had finally remembered that I was human, too, and needed a break.
Then, one day, I accidentally overheard a conversation between him and our daughter, Ella.
"Daddy, if you and Sophia have a wedding, what will happen to Mommy?"
Ethan chuckled softly.
"It's just a ceremony. Nothing about our lives will change. Ella, keep this a secret for Daddy, and when I get back, I'll buy you that Barbie Dreamhouse you've always wanted."
I stood outside the door, feeling as though every drop of blood in my body had turned to ice.
So that was what this trip was really about.
It wasn't his way of making up for neglecting me. He was simply clearing his schedule so he could marry another woman.

My boyfriend was a mafia heir. One word from him could open those gates.
But I stood outside in the rain while he celebrated another woman's birthday. My calls went unanswered. Inside, four plates circled the cake. None was mine.
Upstairs, she'd taken my room too.
“You don't mind helping her out,” he told me.
He hadn't asked.
That night, I reopened the job offer I'd turned down to stay with him. This time, I hit Reply.

"Arthur, please! Send someone to Black Forest—Noah's been taken by rogue shifters! They'll kill him!" I hit the marble floor hard, blood trickling from my forehead.

My mate, the most feared enforcer in this territory, couldn't be bothered. He was too busy looking for his lover's precious pet.

"Eve, you're sick—lying about our kid to get attention?" He gestured dismissively. "Throw her in the cells until she stops this bullshit."

He locked me up all night.

Next morning, he let me out, figuring I'd gotten the message.

He didn't know that thirty minutes ago, the gate guards brought a blood-soaked box.

Our son's head was inside.

The day my sister and I came back to life, we made one call: swap fiancés.

Last time, Dad burned every favor he had to lock down two marriage deals for the family. One with a mafia family that runs the West Coast. The other with a corporate CEO.

My sister married the mafia leader. She was too gentle, too kind for a world that ran on blood and backstabbing. The man had a childhood friend who played soft and helpless but was vicious as hell underneath. That woman tormented my sister for decades before finally arranging an "accident" that killed her.

And me? I got the polished CEO.

Sounds good, right? Except we tortured each other from day one. He was all rules and manners, always talking like he was giving a speech. Me? I blow up fast and if I can throw a punch, I will. Every day was the same standoff. He'd pull back, I'd push forward, and nobody gave an inch.

We spent our whole lives being polite and miserable.

Then one day, my sister and I woke up on the afternoon they announced the engagements.

When my year-end bonus came in, I bought a pair of engraved matching bracelets for the man I'd been with for eight years and had them shipped to his office.
The tracking said delivered. He waited a full day before sending me a voice message, asking if I'd bought him a gift.
I said no, and asked if someone had sent him something. He brushed it off. Said he'd ask around.
When I pushed, he said it was a pair of running shoes from a coworker, and he'd already sent them back.
That night he kept his phone on him. He even took it to bed.
Once he was asleep, I unlocked it with his finger.
His old Messenger chats had all been cleared. I searched one word: gift.
The messages came right up. The other person was Mia Novak. He called her "baby."
I tapped her profile picture. It was a wedding photo.
The groom was Nathan Boyd, the man I'd been with for eight years.

At the school's field day, my six-year-old son pointed straight at me and shouted for everyone to hear, "I'd rather be alone than with her! She's the worst mom in the world!"
He hated that I couldn't afford expensive toys, hated that we lived in a tiny apartment, hated that I was just a useless woman.
Then he turned and ran straight into the arms of the woman who destroyed my family, calling her name in the sweetest voice, just because she handed him an ice cream.
My ex-husband leaned against his luxury car, sneering, "Nora, if you admit you were wrong, I'll let you come back. We can get married again."
Looking at their smug faces, I finally let go of the hands I'd been gripping tightly for four years.
"All right," I said, smiling as I signed away custody, "Since you two love each other so much, I hope you and your perfect little family enjoy every minute together."
They thought I was playing hard to get, but they had no idea—this time, I really meant it.

My boyfriend bet his best friend a Porsche that I'd never cheat.

For months, his best friend did everything he could to get me into bed, and my boyfriend sat back and kept score.

He won the car. I found out by accident, one day too early.

So I stopped being the girl they were so sure of.

Let's see how he likes it when I finally say yes.

In front of all his friends. In front of him.

In my past life, simply to buy a smile from his mistress, Lilianna, Valerius insisted on shutting down the territory's ultraviolet defense grid on the night of a meteor shower.

 

I fought him tooth and nail. In return, he shattered my legs and threw me into the dark like a bag of trash.

 

The horde swarmed in. It took three agonizing hours of being eaten alive by a dozen ghouls before I finally bled out.

 

When I opened my eyes again, I was standing in front of the control room's master lever.

 

If fate brought me back, it wasn't to play the pathetic saint again. This time, I'm going to step aside and quietly admire the symphony of death they compose for themselves.

My birthday was never truly mine.

Everyone was busy making sure she was comfortable, happy, and protected.
When she deliberately handed me chamomile tea—knowing I was allergic—they told me not to hurt my sister’s good intentions and forced me to drink it.

My brother accused me of being jealous and locked me in the basement.

They all forgot about me to celebrate her birthday, even my fiancé.

Lying there, I realized something worse than pain—I was replaceable.

That was the day I understood the truth about my family.
I was dying on “my” birthday, and no one chose me.

Someone posted a positive pregnancy stick next to my student ID on the school's anonymous forum.
By first period, eight hundred people thought I was the campus slut. By lunch, the lacrosse captain stood up in the cafeteria and told everyone he was the father. By Friday, my full-ride scholarship was frozen and the dean told me to "keep a low profile."
I've never even kissed anyone.
Margaux Aldridge — Ashford Academy's golden girl, my so-called friend — showed up with tissues and a shoulder to cry on. She even talked to her daddy on the board about getting me a "quiet transfer" so I wouldn't have to suffer a public hearing.
So generous. So kind.
She even handed me a withdrawal form. My name already filled in. Just needed a signature.
She really thought I'd sign it.

The ultrasound photo caught fire slowly, curling at the edges before the flame swallowed it whole.
I watched it burn in front of my mother's grave.
Eight weeks. That was how far along I had been.
Three days ago, on the anniversary of her death, I came here to talk to her. To tell her she was going to be a grandmother.
Instead, I found my husband fucking his ex-girlfriend against the oak tree twenty feet from her headstone.
I lost the baby that night.

For three years, I smelled like nothing for my Alpha.
Scent blocker on my wrists and throat, every time another Alpha walked into the room. "Until it's official," Knox said. Until he marked me.
When the war's over. He promised me eighteen times.
I drank wolfsbane in his place at every feast. I drew the maps that won his war, then watched him stand up and take the thanks.
The morning after the war ended, he walked through our door wearing another she-wolf's scent like a second skin.
So I didn't fight. I renounced his pack and took a one-way flight to the only territory he'd sworn never to set foot in.
He crossed the line anyway.
Now he's on my porch in the rain, his wolf clawing under his skin, begging to mark me tonight.

My cousin stole thirty thousand dollars from our dying grandmother.
Not for an emergency. Not for bills.
For liposuction.
Then she told everyone I did it. Said I was jealous of her figure — that I'd drained Grandma's cardiac surgery fund because I wanted to look different. And the terrible part is, everyone believed her. My boyfriend. My uncle and aunt. Every single person who'd watched me grow up in that house — eating their leftovers standing at the kitchen counter, wearing my aunt's old coat with the broken zipper through every winter — turned around and decided I was the thief.
I couldn't prove otherwise. I couldn't get anyone to listen.
Last time this happened, I didn't survive it.
Then I opened my eyes. I was back in the hospital corridor. My aunt's hand raised, ready to swing.

To save my terminally ill wife and daughter, I drained half my wolf blood and tore out my own right fang.
Stripped of my source power, I became a worthless wolf despised by the entire clan.
My wife cast me out of the den, pinching her nose at the stench of rot on me; my daughter threw stones at me, cursing me with hatred as a blind, useless failure.
Together, they set their eyes on another young, strong Alpha. They let him trample my dignity in public, and finally had me brutally slaughtered on the frozen wasteland.
But they never knew, the reason that man could make their souls submit and fall for him was that his veins ran entirely with my heart's blood.
Only when I was reduced to a boneless husk of a wolf did my wife go mad, clawing her own gland raw, weeping and begging me to leave her one last mark.

Seven years ago, betrayed by my closest friend and my fiancée, I was thrown into the lightless Black Sea Death Prison and tortured mercilessly.

Seven years later, I returned through a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood, only to find my crippled little sister being trampled in the mud by my former "brother," forcing her to sign a humiliating organ extraction contract.

"A worthless ghost who just crawled out of death row—what makes you think you can fight a billionaire tycoon like me?"

At a grand banquet at the Peninsula Hotel, the treacherous couple threw a bloody dog bone at my feet. They mobilized hundreds of heavily armed SWAT officers to surround me, demanding I kneel, kowtow, and call them master.

They thought their wealth and power made them untouchable on the West Coast, assuming I was still the same spineless weakling from years ago.

That was until an EMP tore through the night sky. Three military stealth fighter jets hovered outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, and hundreds of laser sights from the nation's most classified special forces locked dead center on the foreheads of every elite in the room.

Under the horrified gazes of the city's high society, a four-star general crashed through the window and gave me the highest military salute:

"Tier Zero Task Force assembled! Supreme Commander, please give the order to purge!"

At that moment, the high-and-mighty tycoons finally remembered the terror of being dominated by the abyss.

In the wasteland era, the soil is dead. Whoever can grow food is king.
In my last life, my brother gave me the spore we had nearly died to get, and the two of us awakened plant-growing powers together.
But every grain he grew was full and perfect, and the leader placed him on a pedestal; everything I grew was poisonous, and I was mercilessly cast out as worthless.
It wasn't until I died that I learned the truth: his power was never plant-growing, but transfer.
As long as he had eaten the spore, he could transfer away all the crops I grew.
When I got a second chance, I returned to the very day my so-called brother tried to shove the spore into my mouth.
This time, I slammed into him, knocked the spore to the ground, and crushed it under my foot.

Three years ago, I gave my grieving boss $6,000 for her husband’s funeral. The office called me a fool in love. She called me into her office—and fired me.
Then Claire appeared in my city with a suitcase, an apology, and an offer to start over.
I almost believed she had come back for me.
Until I overheard her whispering to a sick child about finding his real father.
Claire hadn’t returned alone. She had twins, one of them was dying, and the man who could save him might be me.

I once thought an arranged business marriage was already the end of the road.
I never imagined the real trap would be giving my heart to the wrong people.
My husband, Ethan, the man I had loved with everything I had, and Chloe, my best friend, the woman I once treated like a little sister, worked together to push me off a cliff.
My face was destroyed.
For three years, I crawled my way back from hell and rebuilt myself from the bones up.
I changed my face. I had myself made into the image of his dead mother.
Then, step by step, I planned my return and married his aging father, Victor.
At our wedding, I looked at Ethan and Chloe’s bloodless faces. My smile was gentle, but every inch of it was laced with poison.
Then I said softly, “Call me Mom.”

I’m Aurora. I died at the hands of my family.
“You were born a walking curse to this Pack. Taking Nora’s place and marrying Liam is what you owe us!” My mother, Patricia, bound my arms and legs with a rope dusted in silver powder. My sister Nora raised a silver-laced dagger and drove it straight into my heart. “Your name, your mate, everything belonged to you is mine!” Then she used a face-shaping spell to transform into my appearance, took over Black Moon manor, and waited for my Alpha mate, Liam, to come home.
I became a ghost and was pinned to her side by a soul-sealing array, forced to watch her clumsy imitation. “Liam, I made your favorite wild-berry oatmeal.” But a wolf’s nose never lies. Liam frowned and stepped away. “That artificial perfume on you… that isn’t her.” I watched him spend sleepless nights after his Wolf-Soul Stone shattered. I watched him uncover the truth that my old injury on my left foot was gone, and “I” was no longer allergic to silver-scale fish. Only then did I understand: the Alpha who looked cold had already carved me into his heart.
Not until he dug up what was left of my body, two undeveloped twin pups still hidden inside me, did Liam finally break. With eyes burning red, he roared, “What you owe me… what you owe Aurora… you’ll pay with your lives!” When dawn rose, my soul dissolved into the morning light. All I wished for, in the next life, was to meet him somewhere without betrayal, to be two ordinary wolves who could protect our children, together.

In a world overrun by zombies, survivors built a fortress—and my fiancée and I joined its action unit.
To help her secure her position, I turned down leadership’s offer to run my own squad and stayed by her side as the “invisible” second-in-command.

For a full year, I made the tactics, wrote the contingencies, and cleaned up every mission.
She took my plans as her own credit—and let the team treat me like dead weight.

Then, on one operation, she ignored my orders and changed the plan on the fly. Disaster followed.
In the debrief, she blamed everything on me in front of everyone.

I resigned on the spot.

Not long after, I took command of a new squad—and delivered the cleanest record in the entire base.
Her unit couldn’t even finish routine recovery runs.

Until a mandated joint op put our teams at the same rally point—
and she finally realized the “legendary captain” was me.

Is this too wrong?
It probably is! But right now, I really don't care.
I let my legs fall open. The big bad black wolf's face finds its place nestled between my legs. Taking a deep breath, he inhales my scent—my arousal—and emits a low, guttural groan. His sharp fangs lightly touch my skin, eliciting a cry from me as sparks surge through my pussy.
Can anyone really fault me for losing control at this moment? For desiring this?
I hold my breath.
The only thing separating the two of us is the sheer fabric of my panties.
He licks me, and I can't hold back a moan.
I brace myself, thinking he might finally pull back—but instead, his tongue licks me again and again, each time faster. Eager.
Then, he suddenly rips my panties at an absurd speed and precision, without causing any harm to my skin. I just hear the noise of the fabric tearing, and when I glance at him, he is already back to licking me.
I shouldn't be feeling this way about a wolf. What is my damn problem?
Abruptly, I feel his licks get gentler, and when I look again at the big black wolf, I realize it's not a wolf anymore. It's Alpha Kaiden!
He's shifted and is now licking my pussy.

🐺 🐺 🐺

Alpha Kaiden, a feared werewolf infamous for his ruthless acts and pleasure in killing every full moon, finds out that his fated mate is none other than a seemingly ordinary human woman, who happens to be his Gamma's chosen mate.
He wants to reject their bond, but fate has other plans. Turns out, the tournament to become the next Alpha King dictates that only Alphas with a mate can enter. That's what leads Kaiden to propose an audacious pretense agreement.
Though initially hesitant, Katherine's heart softens when he makes a precious promise: to protect her small pack from any threat that may arise.
Little does he know that Katherine discovers a hidden strength within herself that is far greater than he could ever imagine.
As the tournament's challenges progress, Alpha Kaiden finds himself irresistibly drawn to the desire to have her presence not only in the competition but also in his bed.

"Nathan," the attractive redhead gasped as the man raked his fingers through her long hair, his fingers gripped at her hips while he took her savagely from behind "Fuck me harder," she begged "I want you..."
Red hair, slender figure, and light makeup - these have always been Nathan's demands for Freya, asking her to dye her hair red, telling her to lose weight, and suggesting how to wear her makeup.
Closing the video on her phone, Freya Wilson reread the text on the email to which the footage was attached:
'Before you get married, you should watch this video,'

What would you do if you received the erotic video involving your soon-to-be husband and other women before your wedding?

In a bold move, Freya chose to reject her ex at the wedding and then leave the pack, even though the cost is becoming a rogue.

When Freya was taken in and offered sanctuary by the Highland Pack, thanks to her dear friend Sienna, she believed her life was finally on an upswing.

Little did Freya know that the Alpha of the Pack, Rufus Crimson was her mate. But there is one small issue, her best friend Sienna is the daughter of Freya's fated mate!

Will Rufus accept Freya as his mate, her being the same age as his daughter? Or will they have to reject each other?

"I want a divorce. "
The day before her third wedding anniversary, Fiona sees her husband walking to the obstetrics wing with his arm around his ex-girlfriend, Rowena. Rowena is pregnant.
Heartbroken, Fiona rejects Micah, her husband, her mate, the Lycan Prince of the Alastair Kingdom, and leaves the pack.

However, to Fiona’s surprise, after being rejected, Micah goes crazy looking for her all over the world.
Until one day, when he sees her walking down the street holding a little girl, he pins her against the wall.
“Is she my daughter?” Micah hisses.