5448 Book(s) Related to my sister stole my mate and i let her

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.

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.

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."

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.

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.

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.

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, 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.

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.

In my previous life, I gave away all my resources to save people, but my godfather broke my legs and fed me to the zombies.
Reincarnated 30 days before the apocalypse, I borrowed millions to build a nuclear-proof bunker and bought twelve retired, violent, and rabid dogs.
Extreme cold descends. With nowhere else to turn and in a desperate attempt to survive, the priest forces a space-age ability user to pinpoint the coordinates of the area inside the bunker with the "highest concentration of heat," and then forcibly teleports to steal the bunker.
He landed laughing wildly, feeling the scorching heat wave hitting him, thinking he had taken over my generator room and greenhouse.
I sneered and remained silent through the bulletproof glass.
This idiot has no idea that the hottest place in my shelter... has never been the generator.

"Give birth to my child, then get out."

With those words, Sean’s kiss fell brutally, ripping Susan’s nightgown open.

His fingers pressed against her clitoris. Sean flipped her over, pinning her under him. His swollen, turgid member quickly found her secret path. He thrust in violently.

Susan broke into a cold sweat. Sean nipped her ear. "Does it feel good? Is this what you like? I’ll make you pregnant, but you can’t stay by my side—this position is reserved for Victoria."

——

Years ago, Susan saved Sean and earned the chance to marry him. But she was damaged in that accident and couldn't conceive. She took countless hormone injections, losing her figure and becoming ugly. Finally, she could get pregnant, only to catch Sean cheating with the young, hot Victoria.

"In that case," Susan said, "let’s divorce."

Susan was bloated and had been a housewife for three years with no skills. Yet, she chose to divorce, even though she couldn't take her own child with her...

Betrayed and killed by the wolf king in my past life, I came back from hell. On the wedding day, I turned down his proposal without hesitation. I made a blood pact with his greatest enemy—the vampire king. Together, we avenged my child and family, and built a new future in the dark.

At the scene of the car accident, my parents frantically scooped up my sister—who only had a scraped knee—then kicked me aside as I lay there dying.
"Don't be a burden to your sister. Just wait by the roadside and croak!"
They drove off without a second thought. In that moment, my heart turned to stone.
What they didn't know was that I didn't die. Instead, I got adopted by a top-tier professor and became a math prodigy worth tens of millions.
Two years later, when my birth parents went bankrupt and got on their knees begging me for a handout, I smiled coldly and played the recording of their attempted murder...

They say the best way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. They never said anything about his soul.

I was a culinary prodigy on the verge of global fame until my fiancé and my best friend murdered me with my own carving knife to steal my recipes. My last thought wasn’t of love, but of a burning vow: If I get a second chance, I will serve them their just deserts.

I got my wish.

I woke up not in a morgue, but in the body of an omega slave, Number 74, in the brutal, wolf-ruled kingdom of the Lunar Fang Pack. I was weak, worthless, and slated to die in the kitchens. But they didn’t know who they were dealing with. The soul of a master chef still burned within me.

When I poured my rage and my grief into a simple broth for a dying slave, I discovered a truth that would shatter this world: my emotions are ingredients. My cooking is magic. A stew made with spite can poison. A cake baked with defiance can empower.

Now, my unique gift has drawn the attention of the three most dangerous Alphas in the kingdom.

Emperor Kael, the cursed and ruthless Alpha King
ho woman, not just the weapon.

Commander Cassian, his stoic, lethal protector,

Prince Raze, the visiting rival Alpha

They think I’m a pawn in their game of thrones. A tool to be used and discarded.

They have no idea.

I was betrayed for my recipes once. I’ll be damned if I let a trio of Alphas do it again. My menu is set, and this time, the main course is revenge.

The only question is: which of these powerful wolves will be the first to take a bite?

When the apocalypse came, I became one of the military's failed experiments—defective, useless, a waste of space who only knew how to fix machines.
My so-called brother Kane used the camp leader access I got for him to trade away the comms gear I nearly died to secure for a bottle of whiskey. He drained my bone marrow dry to keep me in the dark, then dumped me out in the wasteland to die.
After that, he pinned every bit of luxury and waste on me—
while my little sister didn't even have the medicine she needed to stay alive.
That night, dragging my crippled body behind me, I reached into the substation.
Kane, do you remember what kind of genes were in those five hundred milliliters of bone marrow?

To annul the engagement, the aloof heiress of a wealthy family spent three years planning thirteen accidents to try and kill me.
Car accident, falling object, poisoning... I survived covered in blood, only to be met with her disgusted question: "How come you're still alive?"
She let her scheming childhood sweetheart crush my father's ashes, and even personally drained my last remaining blood to save me, all for her sweetheart's self-inflicted injury.
She thought I would be like a dog, clinging to her side forever without any boundaries.
Until that day, I calmly handed over the annulment agreement, clutching the diagnosis of late-stage brain cancer, and completely disappeared from her world.
Later, when she finally found out the truth, she searched the world frantically, only to find my emaciated, cold corpse.
That arrogant and haughty young lady has completely collapsed.
She personally sent her childhood sweetheart to hell, knelt before my body wearing a veil, and desperately raised a gun:
“Ivan, walk slowly on your way to the underworld... I’m giving my life for you.”

My boyfriend pulled off a drone-sky proposal that lit up the entire city.
Crowds cheered, “Congratulations to Mr. Gunson and Mrs. Gunson—at last, true lovers become family.”
But the woman curled in his arms was his secretary.
The “me” in their mouths had long since turned to white bones beneath a mound of earth.

Princess Penelope would rather die than marry the feared Crimson Dragon King.

On the night before the wedding, she throws herself to her death.

At that exact moment, in another world, Joseline Hernandez falls from the rooftop of her school building after someone pushes her. Betrayed and exhausted from a life spent being blamed for her father's death, she dies with only one thought : revenge.

But death was not the end.

Joseline wakes up inside the body of Princess Penelope, the very princess who was supposed to become the bride of the terrifying Crimson Dragon King, Drakarys.

Desperate to return home and uncover who murdered her, Joseline searches for a way back to her world. Yet the deeper she enters the dragon kingdom, the more she realizes something is wrong. The dragons are hiding secrets. The royal court is dangerous and the Crimson King himself is nothing like the monster humans claim him to be.

When no path home appears, Joseline makes a choice :

If she must live as Penelope, then she will survive as the Crimson Dragon King's bride even if it means falling in love with the King she meant to fear.

In a world of werewolf packs and ancient magic, a forbidden love ignites between a vulnerable omega, Amelia, and the ruthless Lycan king, Talon. Forced into a breeder's life, Amelia endures unimaginable suffering until Talon's unexpected interest sparks a dangerous romance. But was happens when Amelia flees with her twin pups?Would he be able to find them and bring them back to their rightfully home?Will Amelia be willing to go back to a place she vowed to never return to? Follow this thrilling story for more.

She was born cursed and silenced. He was born cursed and destined to lose everything.

Vanessa, the mute runt of a cursed litter, has only ever known cruelty and abuse. Her voice stolen by a witch’s spell, her freedom crushed by a brutal father, she’s been promised to a monster she doesn’t want. But fate intervenes when she’s left for dead—bleeding, broken, and bound—only to be rescued by Alpha Alfred of the Shadow Pack.
Alfred, fighting against a generational curse that has doomed his brothers to remain wolves forever, never expected his fated mate to be a fragile girl on the brink of death. But the moment he breathes in her scent, everything changes.
Together, they must confront the past, survive betrayal, and uncover the true key to breaking the curses that bind them. Will their bond be strong enough to save them both?

Dear readers, I'd like to recommend another novel of the same genre: Wedding Night, He Called My Sister’s Name

For five years, I was Sebastian's mistress.
In the end, he chose to publicly marry my own sister.
He coldly told me: "Get out!"
I no longer held onto this relationship and met new, exceptional men.
When I was dating another man, Sebastian became crazy with jealousy.
He pinned me against the wall, crushed his lips to mine, and took me with a fierce, brutal urgency.​​
Right before my climax, he stopped.
'Break up with him, baby, " he breathed, his voice hoarse and tempting, 'and I'll let you come."

In the embrace of a werewolf's warmth, Sheina's life took an unexpected turn.

Sheina Charlotte, burdened by a rare cold allergy and mourning her father's death, stumbled upon the enigmatic Kenneth Immanuel one fateful night in a bar. A chance encounter that would defy the laws of nature.

Kenneth, a powerful alpha werewolf with a thriving business empire, was used to controlling his world. But when Sheina's chilling ailment threatened to consume her, it was his heart that he struggled to rein in.

Amidst a brewing conflict with the vengeful vampire George Geraldo, Sheina and Kenneth's worlds collided. From an unexpected rescue to a reluctant partnership, their journey would push the boundaries of love, trust, and the supernatural.

As winter's cold grip tightened, Sheina's affection for Kenneth grew, unaware of his hidden secret. The revelation of his true nature would test their love beyond measure.

Will their love withstand the chilling truth, or will it crumble like fragile ice under the weight of destiny?

In my past life, I squandered all my wealth to support my fiancée's family, but when the extreme heat of the apocalypse arrived, she and her lover broke my legs, brutally drained my marrow, and devoured me alive.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back in the seven days before the apocalypse.

This time, I will never repeat the same mistake.

I decisively kicked away these cold-blooded parasites, canceled all my credit cards, and, with the true love who died to save me in my past life, built an indestructible, top-tier temperature-controlled fortress.

As global temperatures soared, Los Angeles became a scorching inferno, and the fiancée's family couldn't even get a sip of dirty water, ultimately being forced to resort to cannibalism and killing each other.

And I, sitting in a 22-degree air-conditioned room eating chilled watermelon, coldly watch this bloody live broadcast of dogs fighting each other.

The fires of hell have been lit, and your judgment has only just begun.

For two years I was Easton's secret girlfriend. I paid his tuition. I took a beating from the guys who came for him. I gave up my MIT interview so he could chase what he wanted.
Then I heard him behind a half-open door, kissing my best friend.
"Last life she clung to me like a lunatic. This life I'm not making that mistake again."
Last life. They'd both been reborn—come back with every memory of a life I don't even remember living—and somewhere in it, they'd decided I was the desperate girl who ruined everything.
Fine.
I went back to my desk, pulled the MIT acceptance I'd been about to turn down, and signed it.
Easton, I'll let you have her.
He spent two lifetimes sure he was the smart one. He's about to find out which of us was holding back.

Twenty-one-year-old Adrian Blood had nothing — no parents, no money, he was just a scholarship and a girlfriend he thought was worth saving for. Valentine's night stripped even that away. Teresa chose his bully. Ricardo's men put him in the garbage, literally.

Then a voice activated in his head.

The Chosen Heir System doesn't do sympathy — it does missions. Its first order: save the sister of the man who just destroyed him. Adrian ran through the rain, bleeding, and did it anyway.

One mission. One million dollars.

Ricardo Rodriguez has no idea what he just created. And the system is only getting started.

There are too many ways of taking revenge on a woman. But he chose marriage. In the past three years, he acted like a ruthless husband, treating her coldly, and even more worse, humiliating her. Even when she was pregnant, he tried to force her to give it up, to retire from film field, to expel her from her country.

Married for seven years, I lived my life like an absolute joke.
For the sake of my brother, my wife personally uprooted the roses I had so painstakingly cultivated. To please her uncle, my daughter pointed at my nose and called me a "bad daddy."
The entire family even held a vote to force me to donate my bone marrow. My wife, Elena, raised her hand without a second thought: "You'll just lose a little bone marrow. Liam will die without you."
In that moment, my heart died.
The surgery was a success.
As the anesthesia wore off, Elena was holding my hand tightly. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her voice trembled with remorse: "Aaron, I was a jerk before. As long as you were willing to save Liam, I will love only you for the rest of my life."
She thought I would be as pathetically grateful as a dog, begging for her affection and humbly forgiving her.
But I merely frowned in disgust and pulled my hand back as if shaking off garbage.
In the dead silence, I looked at this tearful woman before me and asked, politely yet confused:
"Excuse me, ma'am... who are you?"

On the execution platform, my noble and beautiful wife used her dagger to carve open my chest.
My nominal adopted son pressed a red-hot iron into my skin, branding me with the "F"-class mark of the lowest outcast, draining my transcendent bloodline dry.
"The Storm Kingdom has no use for a cripple with zero beast-spirit affinity. You belong rotting in the abyss!"
They cut the chains and kicked me into the Black Abyss—a place from which no one returns—then turned to carve up my throne.
They thought I was as good as dead.
They had no idea that the deepest darkness of that abyss harbored the most terrifying ancient demon in existence.
Two weeks later, as they raised their glasses to toast the new king's coronation, I kicked down the castle gates, wielding the ember-fire of annihilation and a tide of ten thousand beasts.
Looking down at the woman who once stood so high above me, now groveling in the mud and begging for mercy, I tossed the bloodstained broken blade onto the hem of her dress:
"Remember this forever—it was you who took a nobody you crushed beneath your feet and turned him into a king you'll kneel before and never win back. Now, hand over your lives."

In my previous life, my wife was addicted to black market gambling on football, which caused us to lose everything.
To make matters worse, a zombie horde then broke out.
We had no shelter and were quickly torn apart by a horde of frenzied zombies.
After being reborn, she planned to run off with all the money, then dump me and elope with her lover.
What she didn't know was that I had awakened the ability to read minds and knew all her plans.

My wife is the city's renowned "Community Angel." She donates every single cent of her high salary to the poor, all to buy herself a saintly reputation.
Meanwhile, as her husband, I spend my days rolling beneath cars in a factory, covered in grease, juggling four credit cards just to keep our large family afloat.
My parents-in-law survive on the expensive, imported life-saving meds I pay for, yet they constantly mock me for being a powerless nobody;
My own children attend private schools on my dime, only to look at me with disgust and call me an embarrassment;
And my wife? Dressed in her high-end couture, she looks down at me and condescendingly urges, "For the sake of the poor children, why don't you get another part-time job and just endure it a little longer?"
Looking at this den of parasites sucking the life out of me, a sudden, overwhelming wave of disgust washed over me.
I didn't argue. I silently put away my overdue bills, packed my bags, and completely vanished from this twisted household.
Later, at the highly anticipated Annual Charity Gala, in front of the entire city, I presented her with an ultimate "gift"—

In my previous life, on the night of our wedding anniversary, my husband Bryan brought his pregnant mistress, Victoria, into our home. Driven to the edge, I slashed my wrists to force him to kick her out.
No one could have predicted her blood sugar would suddenly crash in the freezing storm outside. She collapsed into a flooded ditch and froze to death before anyone found her.
Everyone ruled it a tragic accident, but Bryan decided her blood was on my hands.
Months later, when I went into labor, he abused his position as my doctor to deliberately delay my care. He left me to writhe through dozens of hours of agonizing contractions and severe hemorrhaging until I bled out.
When, with hands slick with my own blood, I begged him to save our baby, he calmly peeled off his soiled surgical gloves. The look in his eyes was merciless.
"Heartbroken?" he sneered. "Good. Take the brat down to hell with you to keep Victoria company."
An icy, suffocating darkness swallowed me whole.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the exact night of our anniversary—the very moment Bryan, bringing the freezing rain in with him, protectively guided Victoria through my front door.

She was never the daughter anyone expected to be sent up that mountain.

For a hundred years, Ironhold has paid the Dragon King a strange yearly tribute, one daughter of the royal house, sent to serve at his court. Everyone assumed it would be Bryn's beautiful older sister. Instead, to save her, Bryn puts on her sister's cloak, packs her own forge tools, and rides into the mountain herself.

She expects a monster. She finds a king who has spent a century turning himself into one on purpose, guarding a burned wing of his castle that no one is allowed to enter, and a grief he's never let anyone near.

But the treaty that brought her to him was never goodwill. It was payment for something her own family has hidden for generations, and the truth, once it surfaces, could burn down everything they've built.

Seven days before the doomsday outbreak, the wild weeds by the road spoke to me: The zombies are coming.
I rushed home, intending to take my fiancée and flee for our lives.
But outside the door, I overheard her plotting with her boss on the sofa, scheming to drain all my wealth.
"He’s just an orphan with no family or connections. No one would care even if he dies."
I didn’t push the door open.
Instead, I quietly cashed out all my assets overnight and built an impenetrable island fortress without delay.
Seven days later, the zombie hordes surrounded the city.
She and her entire family were chased by the monsters, covered in blood and mangled.
They knelt frantically kowtowing and begging for help right outside my explosion-proof gate.
I coldly locked the door tight.
"You were right," I said. "No one really cares if you die. Just go in peace."

Chloe Hudson gave up everything—including her health—for a man who never loved her. Married to Hank Collins only in name, she's endured a year of cold rejection while he lavished his love on another: her own half-sister, Irene. Just when Chloe decides to walk away, a twist of fate changes everything—she's pregnant. But instead of joy, her news is met with cruelty. Hank demands she abort the child, claiming only the woman he loves deserves his baby.
Heartbroken but not broken, Chloe chooses to fight—for her child, her dignity, and a future beyond betrayal. As secrets unravel and loyalties are tested, a familiar figure from her past steps in: Ryan Cooper, a man who once loved her and never stopped.
Will Chloe finally find the love she deserves? Or will her past drag her down before she can rise?

I touch my necklace. Nothing is known about my biological parents. I only have this necklace as an heirloom. The pendant is shaped into a crescent moon with a star on the tip where a diamond lays in the center. Engraved on it is some writing I can't read. Just like my pendant, I also have a crescent-shaped birthmark with a star on my hip. My mom said it might go away in time like most birthmarks do. Mine seems to have become more prominent over the years. I sometimes imagine it sparkles.

The wind picks up suddenly, swirling around me and I smell it. The scent of fresh cut grass and wood shavings. Two of my favorite things.

"Do you smell that, my child? Follow it," says a woman's voice.

I sat there thinking against it. The first time I heard voices, I freaked out my mom. She wanted me to see a psychiatrist because hearing voices isn't a good sign. I explained they were guiding me to do things. My mom said, "Ok, but before you do whatever these voices tell you to do, sit down and think before you do. AND, if it becomes too much to handle, tell me so we can go see an expert." So far, whatever I hear, hasn't gotten me into trouble. So why not follow that scent? As the wind picks up again, I jump off the fence and follow the scent.

What will Hope find? Is she ready to learn the truth?

In the future, the world is ruled by colossal algorithm corporations, where reality and the virtual realm have merged into one. "Kaelan Ardent" lives for revenge after his father's company was stolen by his closest friend, a betrayal that led to his father's death and drove his mother into madness.

Kaelan grows into an elite player, determined to win the "Eternal Nexus Championship", a global tournament that serves as his ticket to destroying his enemy from within. But one week before the competition, he is framed for spreading the "Mana Virus," a digital plague that transforms humans into data.

Branded an international fugitive and discovering that his younger sister is in danger, Kaelan takes a desperate gamble and activates a mysterious chip left behind by his father: the 'White Dragon System". This evolved ancient AI can steal "skills", breach "dungeons', and even rewrite reality itself.

Now, Kaelan must fight to survive, conquer the digital world, and level up his system to uncover the conspiracy behind the virus while becoming the ultimate predator to those who destroyed his life.

Eilidh MacLeod thought she had escaped. Seven years after walking away from a cold marriage and a ruthless man, she has built a life of quiet stability with her son, Finlay.
But ghosts don’t stay buried forever. When Ruaridh MacKinnon—her powerful ex-husband—suddenly steps back into her world, her worst nightmare comes true. As the new owner of her company, he is now in control of her professional fate. And if he looks too closely, he may uncover the one secret she swore to protect.

At the celebration party, everyone was egging them on.
To kiss ass with the so-called "investor's daughter," James, started playing some flirty card game with Vivian right in front of me, feeding her chips and making out.
I stood in the corner holding his jacket like some pathetic coat-check girl.
When I confronted him, James looked pissed. "Sophie, it's just an act! Vivian's got the company by the balls—don't be so damn difficult!"
I laughed.
He had no idea that the "Vivian" he was desperately sucking up to was nothing but a fraud riding someone else's coattails.
And the real person holding his fate, the one who'd greenlit his precious S-tier project? That was me—the wife he called "completely useless."
The day after our divorce, I pulled the plug on all of James's funding.
He went ballistic trying to meet with the mysterious investor. When the doors opened, I was sitting at the head of the table. Right in front of him, I fed that S-tier project proposal into the shredder:
"James, this deal? I'm out."

What if your husband lived a double life and you are the fake wife?

I woke up to my husband celebrating our baby's death. He had poisoned me with abortion pills so he could marry Catherine Morrison-the rich woman he thinks is better than me and pregnant with what he thinks is his child.

I overheard him laughing; 'if she shows up somewhere demanding answers, I'll just say I've never seen her before in my life, Who are people going to believe? Me or some random girl from nowhere?'

David thought I had no evidence. He thought he had covered his tracks perfectly. He thought he was untouchable.

But when I'm done, he'll wish he never met me.

The first thing they took was my baby.

The second was my parents.

The third was my freedom, my eyes, and every reason to live.

My husband gave me to three men on our anniversary. He chained me in a doghouse while his mistress laughed. He fed me my own son’s remains and called it mercy.

He said I was dirty. He said I deserved it.

But the DNA test he trusted was a lie. The video was staged. And the woman he’s about to marry is the one who destroyed us all.

I tried to die. Four times.

Now I’m done trying.

They put a dead woman in the ground. They’re about to find out she brought hell back with her.

My neighbor Beck Morrow was the best high school point guard this state had seen in years.
The night before the state championship—three college scouts in the stands—he decided to stay home with his girlfriend instead. She wasn't feeling well.
I called his coach.
He played. He got the scholarship. He built a company worth eight figures before he turned thirty, and I spent five years writing every algorithm that company ran on.
He repaid me by throwing a ball at my head during a training session. Then his lawyers sent a letter explaining that I had no legal claim to any intellectual property developed under my employment contract, effective immediately, and that my position was being terminated.
Then I woke up. It was the first week of senior year again.

On the anniversary of my mother's death, Thomas promised he'd come pay his respects with me. I waited at the cemetery all day, only to see media reports of him vacationing with his first love.

Everyone assumed Thomas had a secret child with her. That they were about to get married.

And me? His actual wife?

I went home, left the divorce papers on the table, and burned our marriage certificate.

The mafia boss chose me as his decoy—a body double for the woman he loves.

Eight years. Three bullets, one car crash, one explosion. The doctor said ten more minutes and I would've died on that operating table when they took my kidney. I gave him a son. He let me play "the boss's wife" in public.

Until he cleared every obstacle for her and decided to marry her.

Her wedding photos replaced mine in the master bedroom. He has her initials tattooed on his arm. When I questioned him, he had his men slap me at a charity gala, forced me to admit "I'm just a stand-in." When I touched her, he took away my custody, declared she was "the true lady of this house."

The punishments got worse. When he threatened to cancel my mother's insurance, I finally learned to shut up.

He pulls me close, whispers in my ear: "She gave up everything for me. Not like you—you were born to take bullets for me."

"Deal with it. She's not replacing you. This is her house now."

Even my son took her side.

"Stop being dramatic! Natalie actually loves us! You're nothing!"

But their pure, innocent Natalie? She unplugged my mother's ventilator while I was locked in the basement. Let his enemies slip poison into my drink during the last job.

When Grayson found me, all he said was: "She's pregnant and emotional. Go rearrange the flowers at the wedding venue."

I wipe the black blood from my lips. Look at him quietly.

"I'm dying."

They called me a hellcat. A she-wolf tyrant. The Luna who made her Alpha husband obey.
I held him together when his father died. Built his dying pack into a powerhouse while he flirted with she-wolves.
Then he brought home his "fated mate."
Everyone waited for me to explode.
Instead, I smiled. "I'll help you prepare the ceremony."
That's when my wolf—dormant for years—began to wake.

Alexander Del Ryo is a poor man of 45 years, with a mediocre life, overweight, living apart from others, but everything changes the day of his death. Trying to save a girl ends up seriously injured, knowing that this was his end, he asks God for his life, but to his surprise this answers him and listening to his pleas gives Alexander another chance, returning him to the past in which he is 17 years old, but this time will be different because in his phone he has an application that he had never seen, an application called The King Legend System, an application that will change his life, involving him in a world of gangs where he will fight to be the king.

This is a book of shifter short stories. All of these stories came from readers asking me to write stories about animals they typically don't see as shifters.

The stories that will be included are -

Welcome to the Jungle,
Undercover,
The Storm,
Prize Fighter,
The Doe's Stallion
The Biker Bunnies
The Luna's Two Mates