3590 Book(s) Related to my luna

When I woke up in that hospital bed, legs wrapped in casts and burning like hell, everything came flooding back. This time, I wasn't the naive fool I'd been before.
Tyler, my brother Ryan, and that bitch Savannah—they destroyed me. Turned a gymnastics prodigy into a cripple.
Tyler had the nerve to grab my hand, begging me to forgive Savannah for ruining my legs. My brother chose outsiders over me, screaming about "family reputation."
Fuck their love. Fuck family.
This time around, I've got evidence of the $1.2 million they owe me. I know all their dirty secrets. Round two has started, and I'm done being their victim.
Those three bastards are going to pay back every damn cent they stole from me.

Last life, my twin sister and I each got a system that would last ten years.

She took the Spicy Heroine System. I was left with the Girlboss System.

Ten years later, I was a CEO the whole city admired. She was in a hospital bed, paralyzed from the waist down by the men who'd adored her right up until her system vanished.

I brought her flowers. She drove a needle into my neck.

"You get everything," she screamed, "and I get this?"

Now I'm eighteen again, back on the morning we choose, and Juliet dives for the Girlboss System before I can blink.

That leaves me with the Spicy Heroine System. Two arrogant heirs. A closet full of lingerie.

One of them lets me move into his mansion. The other tosses me the keys to his penthouse.

Juliet watches all of it and smiles.

"Enjoy them while you can. In ten years, they'll do to you everything they did to me."

She's half right. In ten years, they'll both be on their knees.

On the seventh turning of our Lunar Oath, I sat on my Alpha's lap, my hand resting on my flat stomach where our first pup was growing. I was waiting for midnight to tell him.
Then he spoke to his warriors in the Old Tongue.
"My new shadow-pet, Lirael... she tastes like an unplucked sweet-vine in the dark."
He was talking about my own sister.
While my mate smiled at me, playing the devoted Alpha, he had already ruined our sacred bond. And when my sister showed up at our gates claiming she carried his heir, I didn't scream, cry, or beg for the truth.
I just smiled.
Three days.
In three sunsets, Seren Thalyn will cease to exist.
By the time he breached his safe to find my wedding ring and my signed severance scroll, I would already be gone.

A man's luxurious watch slipped out of my wife's purse. Without batting an eye, she lied, "It's a gift for your dad." Looking at the youthful, trendy style and thinking of the remote-controlled toy that had mysteriously appeared in the nightstand, I felt nothing but utter disgust.
In the surveillance footage, the domineering homewrecker not only wore my clothes but also arrogantly taunted me.
And my own flesh and blood, the son I cherished more than my own eyes, had covered for them for a few hundred dollars of pocket money!
Since everything was rotten to the core, I wouldn't even want the son anymore.
Without a word, I accepted a tenured professor position overseas, decisively gave up custody, and promptly mailed the divorce papers and the adult toy to her company.
The mistress and the homewrecker's little celebration? Let them torment each other.
This time, I'm taking my life back.

On our fifth wedding anniversary, I received a bouquet of red roses from my husband, Gabriel.

The problem was, I was severely allergic to roses — something I'd told him countless times.

"Same order number, two deliveries," the delivery man said casually, glancing at his clipboard.

My blood ran cold.

The man who'd claimed he had to work late — who couldn't even spare me a simple "Happy anniversary" — was at that very moment holding another woman in his arms. Nine hundred and ninety-nine roses. A designer handbag. Diamond jewelry. And on his face, a tender smile I hadn't seen once in five years of marriage.

For him, I had given up everything. I'd gone from being the pampered darling of the Rivers family to a wife crammed into a tiny apartment, comparing prices across three different grocery stores just to stretch every dollar. I'd filed down every sharp edge I had. Swallowed every last ounce of my pride.

And yet here he was — while I was still carrying his child — lavishing the very best of everything on someone else.

Gabriel, you dare betray me?

Then that CEO seat? Consider it gone.

A once-formidable heiress, dulled and diminished by love, was about to reclaim everything she'd lost. The masks were coming off.

And the reckoning was just beginning.

Today was my wedding day.
In just one hour, I would be walking down the aisle in my wedding dress toward my future husband.

"Marry me. Come now.
Sender: Landon"

My childhood sweetheart had suddenly sent me a message. Just one sentence and a location pinned on a map.

I didn't even have time to change. I rushed to the location still wearing my wedding dress.
But when I arrived, what greeted me wasn't a wedding venue, but the unbridled, mocking laughter of Landon and his buddies.

"And here I thought she had some self-respect! She actually rented a wedding dress just to throw herself at Landon?"
"Hilarious. Landon’s been playing her this whole time, and she still has zero backbone. How pathetic!"
"All Landon has to do is whistle, and she comes running, wagging her tail like a dog!"

My water broke in the middle of my family’s tiny clinic.
Thirty-six weeks pregnant, breech baby, emergency C-section. I only had one request: not City Center Hospital.
Because the man I had been hiding from for eight months worked in a hospital.
I told myself there were hundreds of doctors in the city. It would not be him.
Then the operating room door opened.
My ex-boyfriend walked in wearing scrubs, looked at my chart, looked at my belly, and went completely still.
He was not just the man I had left.
He was the anesthesiologist about to put a needle in my spine.
And when our daughter was born wearing his exact face, there was no hiding left.

Three years ago, to quell a mafia feud and save my father's life, I married Alessio.

Over the past three years, the occasional scraps of tenderness he threw my way had slowly tricked me into falling in love.

Until the day I nearly bled to death giving birth to our twins—only for him to immediately hand them over to his true love. His adoptive sister, Bianca, had been left sterile after taking a bullet for him years ago.

In the end, the reality was clear. I was just a breeding vessel, kept around merely to bear children for the only woman he ever loved.

My dignity, my flesh and blood, and my ridiculous love were unapologetically trampled into the dirt.

And when the devastating news of my father's brutal murder followed, the very last trace of weakness in my heart disintegrated into ash.

As my younger sister drove her crystal blade into my chest, she screeched in mad laughter: "Why did you get to achieve fame and glory just because you chose Wisdom? If I could start over, I’d never choose Beauty!"
A blinding white light exploded before my eyes. We were both reborn, back in the Fate-Chamber.
This time, she shoved me aside and snatched the "Pact of Wisdom," tossing the "Pact of Charm"—the very power she so utterly despised—to me. She couldn't wait to see me turn into a useless, superficial airhead.
Inside the top-tier magic academy, armed with the enhanced memory and comprehension granted by her contract, she reveled in the spotlight and showered me with ruthless mockery.
What she didn't know was that the Pact of Wisdom never bestowed unearned miracles. Without discipline, the gifted talent would ultimately devour her. And the Pact of Charm she so thoroughly reviled was never meant for sycophancy—as long as I stayed clear-headed and true to myself, that power would become my impenetrable spiritual fortress.
In this life, I am still your worst nightmare.

The first thing I do with my second chance is sell off my perfect fiancé for ten million dollars.

The first time around, I became someone else for Julian Whitmore.

He likes nude-toned dresses. Hates when I wear anything with color. He won't let me have more than one glass of champagne in public. Won't let me laugh too loud. Won't let me initiate anything in bed.

His voice is always so calm, like he's correcting a disobedient pet.

I spend three years turning myself into what he wants: docile, proper, flawless. Until depression drags me under. Until that night I lay in the bathtub and watched the water turn red.

When I die, he's still downstairs in his study, editing my speech for tomorrow's charity gala.

When I open my eyes again, I'm sitting in the Winters' living room with that unsigned arrangement in front of me.

This time? Fuck perfect.

But when he lifts that veil at the wedding and realizes the bride isn't me, this man who's spent his whole life in control completely loses it.

On our one-year anniversary, my husband Julian gifted me an antique ring.
Putting it on cost me everything.
I miscarried, grew paralyzed, and rapidly withered into a husk. And Julian? He convinced everyone that the trauma had simply driven a grieving mother insane.
Eventually, even I believed him.
It wasn’t until the moment of my murder that the truth finally clicked.
The ring wasn't a blessing; it was a parasitic siphon.
Then, I opened my eyes—
I was back at the anniversary dinner.

On a rainy night, I lay in a pool of my own blood, barely alive.
My wife, Juliana, was kneeling beside a man named Sebastian. "Take my husband's blood! I will take full responsibility if anything happens!"
Drop by drop, my lifeblood was drained from me, flowing into the body of her first love.
After three days and nights of struggling in the ICU, I finally regained consciousness, only to hear her scornful words outside the door: "Sacrificing a mediocre researcher for the health of my Muse is a worthwhile trade."
So, the five years of tender affection, the specially prepared nutritional soups she brought me every night—it was all to squeeze the last drop of blood from me.
She thought I would remain in the dark like a loyal dog, letting her take whatever she wanted.
Too bad she didn't know that I had quietly poured out that "medicine" and called the Security Bureau.
It was time for the hunter and the prey to switch roles.

On my wedding anniversary, I died a brutal death, drained of every drop of blood by my husband’s socalled “sacred snow ferret”. That creature was Sylvia, his longdead true love striving for rebirth. For three long years, I was nothing more than a disposable blood vessel. Even my own son betrayed me for hollow, false affection.
Given a second chance at life, I cast aside all foolish mercy. I watched coldly as my hypocritical mage husband and traitorous son doted on the ferret, and documented every one of their heinous crimes.
I turned his longawaited reunion into a boneandflesh feast.
When the Templar tribunal finally arrived to pass judgment, I broke free from the cage of my old life and stepped out toward my own boundless freedom.

Dad brought his old friend's daughter home. I was the outsider.

Dad Brought His Old Friend's Daughter Home. I Was the Outsider.

An old friend of my father's had entrusted his daughter to our family.

She was outgoing and full of life. I was the quiet one, always studying for another exam.

Dad doted on her as though she were his own daughter. My two older brothers drove her to all the places trending on Instagram and bought her the latest gadgets.

Even my boyfriend, the guy everyone on campus had a crush on, only complained about how clingy she was.

At every club event, though, his attention kept drifting toward her. Then, for the student showcase celebrating the university's anniversary, he replaced the song he'd promised to sing with me with a piano duet for the two of them.

I hadn't found out until I arrived backstage that evening. Tyler had told the student organizers we were changing our act, without ever asking me.

I looked down at the updated program in my hand. My name had been crossed out.

“We're done,” I said calmly.

Three years ago, I devoted my family's entire fortune to rescue my husband from the mire of impending bankruptcy. I once believed this was a mutual journey of love, until that day revealed the chilling truth — I had merely been nurturing a self-consuming wolf.
The metallic scent of blood still hung in the air of the delivery room when he signed the document relinquishing life support, trading our newly born child for a flicker of hope for his beloved.
As I lay in a pool of blood, dialing his number, I could hear the heavy breaths of him and his mistress on the other end.
The explosion of the yacht cast flames upon the sea, and in that life-or-death moment, he unhesitatingly let go of my hand.
They all believed I had perished beneath the waves.
Very well.
Now, my wedding invitation lies within his reach.

I wasted five whole years of my youth chasing Gerald Darkmoor, the Alpha heir of the Darkmoor Pack.
On the very day I was supposed to marry him, standing there in my white bridal gown, I accidentally overheard a conversation between Gerald and his friend.
"Gerald, are you really going to marry Elowen?" his friend asked, sounding skeptical.
A dark shadow crossed Gerald's eyes.
"Of course. The Wardens' Concord has been breathing down our pack's neck. And since Sylara is carrying my pup, the Concord elders are furious with me. Marrying Elowen is the perfect way to pacify them."
"Aren't you worried Elowen will find out about your affair and go after Sylara?"
"No. She is madly in love with me. She'll keep my secret."
"She's soft and easy to control. As long as I marry her, the Darkmoor Pack will be temporarily safe from a Concord purge, and Sylara will be out of danger." 
My entire world collapsed in that instant.
In my daze, I wandered off, was ambushed, and severely injured.
When I finally woke up from the coma, I remembered everyone. Everyone except Gerald.
So, when Lord Vale, the leader of the Wardens' Concord, sent a rune-message asking me to return for a political marriage, I immediately arranged for an escort convoyseven days later.

I helped him claw his way up from nothing—from the family's bastard to king of the underworld.

I saved him when he got jumped in the streets. Took bullets for him when his father beat him half dead. We fought our way up from nothing, survived assassination attempts, built an empire that made people fear our name.

I thought we'd always stand together.

Until the day I nearly died giving birth, and all I found in the bassinet was a stack of cash.

I asked him where our baby was. He couldn't look me in the eye. His stepmother walked out holding my son. Smiled and said she deserved this, a child of her own, since she couldn't have one herself. He'd given my baby to another woman.

Turns out he'd been sleeping with her the whole time.

I threw the money in his face. I spent the next six years trying to get my son back.

Last week, when some small-time gang grabbed him, I went in alone with a gun. Bullets flew past my ears, kicked up concrete dust. I fought my way to the back and pulled him out. At the hospital, he pushed me away, crying, "Why'd you have to come?! We could've been a real family by now! Just leave! Leave me alone!"

I stared at his small face for a long time.

Finally, I said, "Call me mom one last time. Then I'll let you go."

A hundred years ago, old Duke Rowland saved me with a bowl of hot soup when I was dying. To repay him, I swore myself, as the Silver Wolf Goddess, to a hundred-year covenant protecting House Rowland.

I taught Garrett how to hold a sword. I turned Caleb into a prodigy at the Mages' Guild. I saved Preston's family from ruin.

But Lillian took a potion to fake being sick, and all it took was her claiming only my heart could save her to turn three men's knives on me.

In my last life, I begged them to listen, told them that cutting out my heart would tear down the foundation of House Rowland itself. They finally backed off.

Then Lillian, trying to keep the lie going, secretly upped her dose and poisoned herself to death in her own bed.

The three of them lost their minds and blamed me for her death.

"A beast doesn't get to call itself the guardian of House Rowland. Die."

They cut my heart out. I died on that altar.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day they took my heart.

This time, I didn't waste my breath. I handed it over myself and let them have what they wanted.

The goddess's heart fell. The covenant ended.

They just didn't know yet how badly House Rowland would fall apart without me.

I just got out of prison after three years, and my family wants me to go back in.
"It's only three days," they said. "You survived three years—what's three more days?"
What they don't know: I'm dying. The only thing keeping me alive is my mate bond. Three days away from Everett means death.
For three years in prison, someone sent me food every week. No note, no name. I thought it meant my family still loved me.
I was so grateful.
I didn't know it was my twin sister. I didn't know what was inside.

The new member posted a yacht contract to the club group chat on her first day in. The caption read: Thanks for the birthday present, Dad 🥂
Ten seconds later she deleted it. Breezy apology. Oops, wrong group.
I looked at the photo one more time before it disappeared. I didn't check the numbers. I looked at the name painted across the bow.
It was my mother's name.
The boat was mine. My father had told me about it a week ago.
The chat didn't care. Which family is she from? Ninety-six feet of custom teak. Sienna, you dark horse.
I asked, quietly, if she'd share the registration number. I wanted to hear what she'd say.
My own husband stood up from two desks over and tore into me in front of every member in the room. Told me I was jealous. Told me I was an embarrassment. Told me to know my place.
Later that week, he broke into my safe. Took the diamond my father had given me for my mother — and put it around her neck.
That night my father's encrypted voice memo came in from somewhere at sea. One minute long. The last line was this:
"Find your mother's necklace. I can't wear her myself. I need you to wear her for me."

The housekeeper’s daughter just locked me out of my own Bentley.

"Bob, drive," Ella Brooks—the school's untouchable Queen Bee—ordered my chauffeur. She leaned into her boyfriend, Ryan Harrington, shooting me a look of fake pity. "My family already pays her tuition. Charity cases don't get free rides."

A bunch of kids nearby laughed, always eager to kiss up to the fake heiress. Ryan glared at me like I was actual trash. "Maya, if someone puts a roof over your head, show some respect. Know your place."

The tinted windows rolled up. Tires squealed, leaving me choking on exhaust.

I stood on the curb, watching my car speed off. She had hijacked my entire life to play school royalty and snag a wealthy guy, convincing everyone I was the freeloader.

I was so pissed I actually laughed. She mistook my low profile for weakness.

She wanted to play the billionaire's daughter? Fine. Playtime is officially over.

From a young age, I understood that my asthma was a shackle for my entire family. My parents took turns caring for me, their hearts gripped by the fear of any sign of respiratory distress. In their fervent concern for my health, they even compelled my sister, Sophie, freshly accepted into university, to postpone her studies and return home to assist in my care.
At Sophie's eighteenth birthday celebration, I lingered at the edge of the crowd, my chest constricted, and my throat felt as if it were ensnared by invisible hands. I gently tugged at my mother's sleeve, my voice barely a whisper: "Mom, I... can't breathe. I want to go back to my room..."
In an instant, my mother whirled around, her eyes ablaze with fury, as though she had awaited this moment of eruption. She seized my inhaler and hurled it into the farthest corner of the room.
"If it's this painful, then go die!" she shrieked, her words cutting like a knife. "Stop using your illness to hold us hostage!"
The inhaler tumbled to the floor, rolling away like a forgotten piece of trash. I stared at it blankly, a sudden laugh escaping my lips.
And then, I truly died. Yet, in the wake of my passing, those who once found me a burden descended into madness.

Only after I lost the promotion did I find out that my broke boyfriend secretly owned the company I worked for.

He'd voted against me.

One of his friends asked him, “Aren't you worried Nora Bennett will find out you've been lying to her and raise hell?”

Blake Whitmore gave a casual laugh.

“Why would I be? It doesn't take much to make her happy again.”

“Chloe's different. She's been a princess her whole life. When she wants something, she has to have it. I can't stand seeing her upset.”

“It's just a director's job. If she wants it, I'll let her have her fun.”

Chloe Sinclair.

The woman they'd brought in from outside to take the position I'd worked for.

Something I'd fought so hard to earn was just a toy she could have for the asking.

I blinked back the sting in my eyes, looked down at my phone, and answered the recruiter.

“Hi. I'd like to accept the offer in Pittsburgh.”

On our third wedding anniversary, a catastrophic car accident plunged me into a state of life-threatening hemorrhage. Yet, before the medical staff, my husband roared: "Draw my wife's blood first; save Serena."

Serena—his first love.

It became apparent that he had never married me out of love; I was but a living blood bank, intended solely to sustain his cherished first love. It was only when I discovered I was pregnant that I realized he would not even spare the life within me.

That incarceration, cloaked in the guise of love, had nearly claimed my life. When I opened my eyes again, I was no longer the Clara who could be so easily sacrificed. This time, I shall ensure he pays for his blood debt, with no chance of redemption.

I married into a wealthy family in place of my runaway sister, but my husband, Damian, refuses to touch me.

He refuses to dance with me in public, rejects my kiss, and even has my luggage dumped in the hotel lobby.

Believing he despises me, I pull off my wedding ring and prepare to leave.

But the moment my blood touches the blue diamond, I hear his thoughts:

“Leave. I want her too much. If she comes any closer, I really will hurt her.”

On my wedding day, my entire family received Iris’s desperate plea for help.
“Mom, Dad, Brother! I’ve been kidnapped, come save me, quick!”
Everyone panicked—including my fiancé, Theodore.
They interrupted the wedding ceremony to rush to Iris.
I begged them through tears not to go. I said it was a trick, something Iris had staged herself.
“The ceremony would have been over in ten more minutes. Can’t you just wait ten minutes?”
My parents called me a heartless, ungrateful wretch. My brother, Ron, pried my fingers from his tuxedo lapel.
“Chloe, stop being so selfish! Even if Iris isn’t your blood sister, how can you be so cruel?!”
“All you care about is your own wedding! Do you really want to see her die?!”
My fiancé looked at me with disappointment. “Let’s cancel the wedding for now.”
“I just realized… the one I care about more… is Iris.”
Watching their hurried figures disappear, I picked up a knife and locked myself in the bridal suite.

Did you slaughter your roommates?" the detective sneered. "No!" I screamed. The polygraph technician stared at the flawless readouts confirming I told the absolute truth. I was innocent. But if a human didn't tear those girls apart in our locked dorm... then what exactly is hunting me now?

On our third wedding anniversary, my husband Hill invited many friends over for a party at the house. Everyone was noisily playing games, and the challenge was to reveal a private secret about someone in the room.
When it was Elsa's turn, she pointed at Hill's lower body. "Hill has a crescent-shaped birthmark. It's in a very private spot."
After saying this, Elsa collapsed onto the sofa laughing. Hill pretended to be angry, jumped up, and pounced on Elsa, smacking her on the butt.
I was frozen in shock. Hill's birthmark really was extremely private—you couldn't even see it without looking closely. I only discovered it myself after being married to him for a year.
Sensing my emotional shift, everyone stopped their roughhousing.
Elsa shrugged nonchalantly. "Zoe, don't overthink it. Before you got married, someone slipped Hill something once. I had no choice but to help him out. But don't worry, I promise he saved his first time for you."
Then she tapped her lips. "I used this place back then. Wore me out, honestly."
I felt my stomach churn violently and nearly threw up. Without thinking, I hurled my wine glass directly at Elsa.
"Sorry. Slipped. Just trying to help you rinse your mouth."

My ex-husband found me selling hair clips at a flea market. Rosie was asleep in her stroller.
"Come home. She's too young for this."
I said yes.
After that, I stopped checking his phone.
Rosie stopped crying when the other girl took her toys.
He spent the night at Simone's—we didn't call.
We ran into them at the mall—we walked the other way.
We finally became what he always wanted. Easy. Quiet. No drama.
So why is he the one who can't sleep now?
"Why don't you get mad anymore?"
"Rosie, why won't you ask me to stay?"

On Halloween night, a sharp stench of chlorine and cheap booze woke me up.
I opened my eyes to a man grinning at the bedroom door.
It was my husband, David, soaking wet and showing off the liquor he’d vanished hours ago to buy.
I cursed him out, called him a liar, and demanded a divorce. He just kept that idiotic smile.
Then my phone rang. It was his best friend, Mark.
"Claire, David drowned drunk in the pool!"

Five years ago, my family burned to death in an "accident."

My loving husband Clifford signed the papers himself—shipped me off to a mental institution without a second thought.

Inside, Becky carved up my face with shattered glass. The same orphan I'd put through school. Then she rebuilt herself to match my features and stole my life—my husband, my son, everything.

Now she marched into the clinic where I scrub floors, dragging my biological child behind her, demanding I apologize to him like some servant.

She has no idea what kind of monster she created.

Five years ago, I stepped in front of a crossbow bolt for Lucian Vael, and he turned me into a vampire before I had the chance to say no.
He told me I was the first person he'd loved in six hundred years. He bought a castle and named it after me. He reserved a spot for me in his family's crypt so we'd lie there together when the time came—right beside his parents, in the inner ring where only blood and the most beloved go.
While I spent four years bleeding myself dry over ancient rites, trying to carry his child, he was across the city watching another woman do it on her first try. Using my research to get there.
He named one of the twins Soren. That was the name I'd chosen.
The night I found out, I was seven weeks pregnant.
I didn't tell him.
I called Mira and said: I need him to think I'm dead.

Everyone in town said I dumped my blind boyfriend because I couldn't stand being poor.
Five years later, I'd become a blind drifter myself, relying on handouts just to eat.
And he'd become one of Silicon Valley's hottest rising tech moguls.
He recognized me, but pretended he didn't.
He wanted me on my knees. Wanted me begging. Wanted me to pay for "abandoning" him.
Until he found out the person who gave up everything for him back then was no one else...
But me.

I'm a forensic audio specialist. I make a living digging up the truths people deliberately erase from static and noise.
My 19-year-old brother was accused of pushing a billionaire's bride to her death at her wedding.
The police presented their "smoking gun" recording. I heard exactly twelve seconds missing from it.
Those twelve seconds hold the truth about how the bride really died—and the billionaire family's dark secret that will get both me and my brother killed.
They smashed my equipment, threatened my life, bribed the cops, and tried to bury the truth forever.
But what they don't know is—
Some voices refuse to stay silent. Even when they're cut out.

I was rejected, but soon, I will marry a wheelchair-bound Rogue.
"Is this your fiancé?"
"Yes, he is my husband, Raymond Black," I introduced.
"How shameful, you are marrying this... uh, rogue, who has no clan, no fixed pack, and can't even protect you if attacked by other werewolves?"
I stood at the altar, with many people below, as if saying to me: you are such a fool!
Raymond said beside me, "Caitlin, if you want to back out, you still have a chance now, you can choose to run away."
I shook my head, "No... I won't run away, you will be my husband."
I saw a hint of surprise in his emerald, green eyes.

I was set up by my best friend to have sex with a strange man, my first MATE rejected me, an enemy weapon ran through my father's heart, pierced my mother's body. My best friend's family stripped me of my ALPHA status, and I became everyone's go-to OMEGA. Until that man came along, Rogue, and he saved me, but... I found that he seemed to hide a lot of secrets，wait, my second mate is alpha king?!

On my 18th Birthday, My twin sister married my mate, Alpha Jacob, in my name.

I was Alisa Clark, the she-wolf with the purest blood. The Alphas must feed on my blood.
They were blessed with great power while they were cursed. The greater their abilities, the shorter their lives. My blood protected them from their curse

Yet, my twin Jennifer took away my glory and had me tortured for 6 years! Worse still, My mate allowed it
**
"You've been like a pig for us. He can smell you down here. He's known this whole time."

She took out a mirror and held it up to my face. " You think he would ever accept such an ugly mate like this pig."

I hadn't seen myself since I was twelve, vibrant and healthy. I was a child then, and now I looked like a ghost. My face was hollow and pale like a sick person.

I saw the scar on my face, it burned and had inflamed my cheek so that it was swollen. My eyes were red from the tears.

My hair was dull and limp over my skull. My purple eyes were the only piece of me that still held some semblance of life.

I could see scars even on my neck, and I knew that my body was even more scarred, and even more pathetic...

"How dare you be so stupid." Jennifer said. "How dare you think the Alpha wants you for more than your blood. Imagine him mating with you, when he could have me."

On my 18th Birthday, My twin sister married my mate, Alpha Jacob, in my name.

I was Alisa Clark, the she-wolf with the purest blood. The Alphas must feed on my blood.
They were blessed with great power while they were cursed. The greater their abilities, the shorter their lives. My blood protected them from their curse

Yet, my twin Jennifer took away my glory and had me tortured for 6 years! Worse still, My mate allowed it
**
"You've been like a pig for us. He can smell you down here. He's known this whole time."

She took out a mirror and held it up to my face. " You think he would ever accept such an ugly mate like this pig."

I hadn't seen myself since I was twelve, vibrant and healthy. I was a child then, and now I looked like a ghost. My face was hollow and pale like a sick person.

I saw the scar on my face, it burned and had inflamed my cheek so that it was swollen. My eyes were red from the tears.

My hair was dull and limp over my skull. My purple eyes were the only piece of me that still held some semblance of life.

I could see scars even on my neck, and I knew that my body was even more scarred, and even more pathetic...

"How dare you be so stupid." Jennifer said. "How dare you think the Alpha wants you for more than your blood. Imagine him mating with you, when he could have me."

“You are an omega without a wolf. You have never shifted. You carry no power, no rank, no ability that would serve this pack." He paused. "You cannot be my Luna."

Damon raised his voice so that every wolf in the circle heard him clearly.

"I, Alpha Damon Blackthorn, reject Elara Voss as my fated mate."

The bond snapped.

"I choose," Damon continued, turning his eyes away from me like I was already dismissed, "Selene Archer as my Chosen Mate and future Luna of the Bloodmoon Pack."

Wolfless omega Elara Voss has always been the Bloodmoon Pack's greatest disgrace. When the Moon Goddess names ruthless Alpha Damon Blackthorn as her fated mate, he publicly rejects her and crowns her best friend instead. One unforgettable night leaves Elara carrying his secret child—and a shocking truth changes everything. She isn't wolfless at all, but the hidden heir to the Bloodmoon Pack, her sealed wolf finally awakening. Now the Alpha who cast her aside wants her back, enemies want her dead, and Elara must decide if the man who rejected her deserves a second chance.

He broke the bond. She’ll break the rules.

Elena Rivers thought her⁠ mate ceremony would be the beginning of everything. Instead, Alpha Damien Blackthorn shattered her world w⁠ith rejection.‍

H⁠umiliated‌ before the Silvercres‌t Pack and branded as weak, Elena is lef⁠t heartbroken and alone. B‌ut⁠ when Damien ret⁠urns with a chilling war⁠ning—leave before it’s too late—she realizes his rejection was never⁠ about her flaws. It was about a curse.

Whispers of a⁠ cursed bloodline, betra⁠yal within the pack, and a prophecy buried in the Shadowlands begin to surface. As enemies close in and her hidden strengt⁠h‌ awakens, Elena must choose:⁠ succumb to the pain or rise into the Luna she was never meant to be.

Betrayed by blood. Saved by fate. Bound by a fire no exile can extinguish.
Mira has spent her life overlooked, dismissed as a burden despite the quiet strength she carries within. But when the head chief of her pack is murdered and the blame falls on her, Mira is stripped of her home, her name, and her future. Cast out into the wilderness, she prepares to die alone—until fate leads her to the border of a strange new pack.
There, Mira is rescued by a bold girl and her quiet friend, Elric—a sword-wielding warrior raised among humans, who carries secrets behind his cold gaze. Forced to prove herself through brutal trials, Mira begins to rise in a way no one expected. But Elric sees something in her—something fierce and unclaimed. And though they clash at first, a hidden fire begins to kindle between them.
When war arrives at the new pack's doorstep, Mira and Elric fight side by side. As steel meets fang, Mira realizes Elric isn't just human—he may be the key to unraveling the conspiracy behind her exile. And when a nearly stolen kiss threatens to change everything, Mira is left questioning who she really is—and what she's truly capable of becoming.
In a world where wolves follow strength, and secrets can kill, Mira must embrace the fire inside her or be silenced forever. After all, exile wasn't the end of her story. It was only the beginning.

"No one touches what belongs to Alessandro De Luca. Not his business. Not his empire. And certainly not his woman."
"I'm not your possession."
"Wrong," he murmured. "You're my wife. That makes you both."
She became his wife to repay a debt.
He vowed to destroy her for a past drenched in blood.
At fifteen, Rose's fate was quietly sold by the man she trusted most—her father.
At twenty-two, she's forced into marriage with Alessandro De Luca, the ruthless Italian mafia boss feared across continents. To the world, their union is a cold arrangement. To Alessandro, it's a weapon—his slow-burning punishment for the enemy's daughter.
But what Rose doesn't know is that her father once committed an unforgivable crime—and her mother died keeping the truth buried.
Alessandro vowed to shatter whoever destroyed his family. He never planned to fall for the enemy's daughter.
Trapped between a husband who burns with revenge and a father who thrives on lies, Rose must fight to survive the war ignited in her name.
Because in the mafia… love is just another weapon.
And the most dangerous man she's ever met is her husband.

"Mason, I want to cut all ties with you. No marriage and no bond. We're done,"

"You want a rejection?"

"I know that you have never loved me, Mason... It would be better that we were both free to pursue our own interests."

"Freedom? Willow, freedom is a privilege that only good and innocent people have the luxury of. You are neither of those things so what makes you think that I should let you go free?" He sneered.

"What do you mean?" I said as my brows creased in confusion.

"Isn't it fucking obvious?" Mason mocked as he cracked his knuckles in his hands, "Your parent's hands are stained with the blood of my parents, you don't deserve to be free whilst you atone for their sins?"


Throughout my year of marriage, I have constantly suffered from the pain of Mate Bond. My mate would sleep with various she-wolves but never spare me a glance. He would allow his lovers to mock and insult me, his wife, his Luna, and he did it all just to inflict pain on me.

I couldn't bear it any longer, so I asked to end the relationship, but he refused. Just when I felt pain and confusion, a powerful Lycan King appeared...

I am the wife of Don Nikolai. For years, I endured his violence and the constant humiliation from his mistress, Sofia.
On a stormy night, I saved a boy named Silvio — the sole survivor of a massacre ordered by Nikolai — and raised him as my adopted son. I never imagined he would become my shield. When Nikolai struck me, Silvio stepped forward and shouted, “You will not hit her!” When Sofia provoked me, he stood up for me every time.
While risking his life to hone his skills, Silvio secretly gathered evidence of Nikolai’s crimes. When the Don sensed betrayal, he sent Silvio on a mission meant to kill him — then turned his brutality on me.
As I lay dying, Silvio returned, bloodied and broken, and threw a punch at Nikolai.
“I came back,” he roared, “to kill you!”
After coming of age, he confessed:
“I was never truly your son. I want to marry you.”

I only came to the Academy to survive. Love was never part of the plan.

But the moment my eyes met his-Darius Fenrir, heir to the most powerful Alpha line-my wolf whispered one word that shattered everything.

Mate.

He should have been my destiny. Instead, he rejected me in front of everyone.

Weak. Unworthy. Unwanted.

Now I walk the halls branded by his pride, whispers snapping at my heels, every look reminding me that I'll never be enough for an Alpha.

But I refuse to bow.

Because while Darius watches me with storm-dark eyes full of regret, another wolf circles closer-Gideon Wicke, his rival, his enemy... and the one who offers me the power to strike back.

Two Alphas. One bond.

And me, caught between pride, love, and a war that could tear the Academy apart.

He rejected me once. This time, I'll decide who burns.

What do you do when your husband swears he hasn't betrayed you — because he does it blindfolded, calling it medicine?

Three years ago, Selene bonded to the Alpha of Ironwood. He came home poisoned by shadow. Her soul, too pure, burns it out of him — so he cannot touch her without agony. That is the tragedy the pack whispers about.

They don't whisper about the shrine room. About the chief healer who brews a draught from Selene's own blood so she'll smell like the wife he can't hold. About the child learning to call him Papa.

Selene doesn't weep when she finds the memory crystal. She owns the mines her husband borrows against. She is the Shadow Lord — the lender he kneels to, the mercenaries at his borders, the hand that can strangle a pack's entire winter.

So: a severance signed in a drugged haze. A healer humiliated at the Great Rite by her own stolen formulas. A trade road going dark.

And then a glass of wine, a locked inn door, and a blade in Selene's own wrist to mask her scent before she runs.

She runs straight into Kael. Enemy of her bloodline. Man she should never touch.

And a father-in-law who is about to break her heart worse than any lover.

How much does a Luna owe a pack that never loved her?

"I, Kiara Vane, reject you, Alpha Liam!"

Kiara was the Westland Pack’s greatest joke: a blind, wolfless Luna married to a man who loathed her very existence. Pushed to suicide by her own twin sister’s betrayal and her mate’s cold-blooded cruelty, she was meant to be a forgotten footnote in history.

But the history books lied.

Cassandra, a feisty 21st-century student with a sharp tongue and a heart of steel, finds herself sucked into the cursed pages of an ancient text. She wakes up in the past, inhabiting the body of the "Dead Luna" under a blood-red moon.

But there’s a catch: this version of Kiara can see. And she isn't crying for mercy anymore.

Alpha Liam is a monster who swore to destroy the pack's traitors to avenge his mother’s death. He expected a broken, sightless girl he could easily crush.

Instead, he finds a defiant queen who looks at him with mockery instead of longing… a woman who seems to know his secrets before he even speaks them.

As Cassandra navigates a world of silver blades, ancient witchcraft, and a mate bond that burns with a dangerous new hunger, she has only one goal: make them all pay.

But as the "wolfless" girl begins to show the heart of a dragon, the predator slowly becomes the prey.

Liam is no longer looking for revenge… he’s looking for the woman who stole his soul.

But one question haunts the entire pack:

If the real Kiara died that night under the red moon… then who… exactly… is the woman wearing her face?

Trigger Warning: 18+, rape, abuse, Mature and sexual content, slavery, violence.

"Don't get the ideas that you are ever going to receive anything other than hate from me, Athena. I don't need a mate. I don't need a weak pathetic bond like this to survive," He growled as he grabbed a fistful of my hair and harshly threw me on the bed.

I was naked and helpless in front of his menacing eyes.

"Sebastian, please don't do this..."

"I have purchased you from that auction only because you'll come in use to tame my wolf, and you are nothing but a good that I will use every day and night for my pleasure. And your life in hell starts from today."

"Please don't..." I begged but none of my words affected him.

I backed away till my body hit against the headboard but he dragged me by my ankles and shredded the last piece of fabric, my panties, and threw it away.


After being sold by my parents to auctioneers because of being a wolf-less she-wolf, When fate landed me in my mate's arms from the auction, for once I thought I was finally going to find happiness...someone who'd love me. But it was another hell I landed into.

Sebastian Valdez-- was known as the cursed Alpha who killed his own father. Everyone feared him, his barbaric deeds had no bounds, and he did not have a heart. He only had one rule in his life--Thrive in others' pain. But what he did to me was even worse.

He snatched my innocence, abused me, raped me every night, hurt me beyond extreme, and left me with only the want to escape from his cage but that was until I got to know what his curse was......

"Your pussy is dripping for us, begging for us to use it." His deep voice sent shivers down my spine.

"Do you want that, buttercup? Do you want us to give your little cunt what it craves?"

"Y…yes, sir." I breathed


Joanna Clover's hard work through university paid off when she got a secretary job offer to her dream company, Dangote Group of Industries. The company is owned by three mafia heirs, they don't only own a joint business, they are also lovers and had been together since their college days.

They are sexually attracted to one another but they share everything together including women and they change them like clothes. They are known as the world's most dangerous playboys.

They want to share her but will she accept the fact that they fuck each other?

Will she be able to navigate business and pleasure?

She has never been touched by a man before let alone three, all at the same time. Will she oblige?

♡ I could see the pain flicker in his eyes when he finally said: "I don't think I can be friends with you anymore, Amari." ♡

Amari Vasilios, the CEO of the fast growing Advertising Company in California, got her heart broken by her best friend five years ago. She never thought that out of all the people her best friend, Zane Shaw, would be the one who would break her heart first... only because of a girl he had known for FOUR MONTHS.

She was livid and she still is. She ignored and tried to avoid him as much as possible and for the past five years it worked.

But now.

Now she's staring at the invitation letter in her hand. It was a wedding invitation. From her brother and his fiancee.

She had to go home. She had to go back to New York and attend the wedding.

Attending the wedding means seeing him again.

Attending the wedding means seeing the person she had successfully avoid for five years.

After five years of a secret marriage, her husband never showed any affection in public. Sophia Johnson had always chalked it up to his personality—until he took their twin sons and his first love out for a candlelit dinner, earning rave reviews online as the "most stunning family." That’s when her heart finally shattered completely.
Hearing her own sons call the woman "Auntie" repeatedly, Sophia came to her senses. A husband who didn’t love her, sons who were estranged from her—she didn’t want any of it. From that moment on, she would only love herself.
After the divorce, she returned to her hometown village to pick up her old profession: growing medicinal herbs, treating rare illnesses, and developing skincare miracles. Luxury cars often arrived late at night in the remote village, drawn by her skills.
When word got out that she was looking for a father for her daughter, elite scientists, financial tycoons, A-list idols, award-winning actors... All kinds of tycoons emerged, volunteering themselves, hoping to catch her eye.
Later, her ex-husband knelt on a bed of durians, his face filled with remorse. "Soph, I love you. Will we remarry?"
She scoffed. "William Smith, isn’t the forbidden fruit sweet enough?"
Her twin sons knelt on computer keyboards side by side. "Mommy, we only want you!"
Sophia waved them off. "No, I can’t afford you."