5461 Book(s) Related to my mate is alpha asher

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.

On the live gala broadcast, everyone called Vanessa Hart “Mrs. Caldwell.” And the real Mrs. Caldwell — me — sat at home, watching him let it all happen.
I have loved Ethan for more than a decade, only to get a marriage built on a deal. He married me to save my family. He kept me around because I was still useful. What he never realized was that I had a heart, and it could break beyond repair.
When I finally turned and walked away, he discovered the woman who had always waited for him was gone.
Now he drowns in regret. But will I ever go back to him?

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.

I awaited my seven-year-old son's birthday, yearning for my husband’s return, only to stumble upon him celebrating at a bar, tenderly kissing his childhood sweetheart.
I initially believed this to be yet another instance of his favoritism, until I overheard a devastating conversation and realized the truth: the precious son I had nurtured for seven years was not mine, but a product of his union with his childhood friend.
The marriage I had fought so hard to preserve was, from the very beginning, a deceitful scheme orchestrated against me.

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.

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.

I lost my heart to Vincent the moment I stepped into the Johnson family.
A Don thirty years older than me.
I knew this love was forbidden. Twisted. Ridiculous.
But I still chose to risk everything for it.
I deliberately got close to his son, Leon—the spoiled, reckless golden boy he treasured most. I tempted him, led him on, and step by step, just as I had planned, I married my way into the Johnson family as Leon’s wife.
On my wedding night, I climbed into Vincent’s bed.
In this scheme disguised as love, Vincent fell just as hard as I did.
And inside me, his child quietly began to grow.
A scorching, warped affair took root in the Johnson estate and spread like wildfire.

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 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.”

Soft hot lips find the shell of my ear and he whispers, "You think I don't want you?" He pushes his hips forward, grinding into the back of my ass and I groan. "Really?" He chuckles.

"Let me go," I whimper, my body trembling with need. "I don't want you touching me."

I fall forward onto the bed then turn around to stare at him. The dark tattoos of Domonic's chiseled shoulders, quiver and and expand with the heave of his chest. His deep dimpled smile is full of arrogance as he reaches behind himself to lock the door.

Biting his lip, he stalks toward me, his hand going to the seam of his pants and the thickening bulge there.

"Are you sure you don't want me to touch you?" He whispers, untying the knot and slipping a hand inside. "Because I swear to God, that is all I have been wanting to do. Every single day from the moment you stepped in our bar and I smelled your perfect flavor from across the room."


New to the world of shifters, Draven is human on the run. A beautiful girl who no one could protect. Domonic is the cold Alpha of the Red Wolf Pack. A brotherhood of twelve wolves that live by twelve rules. Rules which they vowed could NEVER be broken.

Especially - Rule Number One - No Mates

When Draven meets Domonic, he knows that she is his mate, but Draven has no idea what a mate is, only that she has fallen in love with a shifter. An Alpha that will break her heart to make her leave. Promising herself, she will never forgive him, she disappears.

But she doesn’t know about the child she’s carrying or that the moment she left, Domonic decided rules were made to be broken - and now will he ever find her again? Will she forgive him?

[Where is Bryce?] I signed.

Serena's lips curled into a cruel smile. "Looking for your husband?" She tilted the phone away from her face, panning across the rumpled sheets until the camera revealed Bryce.
 
He was naked, sprawled across the king-sized bed, fast asleep. One arm stretched beneath Serena's neck, the other hand rested possessively on her bare breast.

"He's exhausted," Serena whispered, the camera returning to her smirking face. "We've been at it for hours. Did you know he calls my name when he comes? Has he ever done that with you?"

Evelyn lost her voice due to an accident in her childhood, which made her the mute wife when married to Bryce Finch. After three years of marriage, her husband ignored her, her mother-in-law despised her, and her husband's lover humiliated her. On her birthday, Evelyn recorded the evidence of her husband's infidelity and decided to leave this marriage. Just then, she discovered that she was pregnant. What’s more, she found that there were still many secrets about herself that remained unsolved... Thus, she began her counterattack.

She was meant to live in silence. To serve. To sacrifice.

As the High Priestess of the Crescent Moon pack, Layla White had endured years of abuse and isolation, forced to devote her life to the Moon Goddess. Her destiny was written from birth: remain mateless, be the bridge between her pack and the goddess, and never know love.

Until he arrived.

The Lycan King's arrival changes everything. He's meant to marry her spoilt step-sister Isabella. But the Moon Goddess had played a dangerous game— Layla bound to be mateless finds out the Lycan King is her mate and the only one that can set her free.

Now Layla must choose: honor her sacred duty and watch her mate marry another, or defy her duties and risk everything for a chance at love. But breaking divine law comes with a price, and the consequences of choosing her heart could destroy everything she's sworn to protect.

Some destinies deserve to be broken, but at what cost?

Can Layla forge her own destiny or will she end up destroying herself and her pack?

Find out in the gripping twist ahead!!

Declan Voss has one semester to prove he belongs at Hartwell Arts Academy before the program drops him. Wren Calloway is the most followed student creator in the school's history and the last person who would ever give him the time of day. When a photo of them leaving the same party at the same time goes viral overnight, their school's online community explodes. Their drama teacher sees gold. So does the school's media club. Suddenly, Declan and Wren are the campus couple everyone is watching, performing staged livestreams, paired school segments, and very fake, almost-kisses for an audience of thousands. The problem is that Wren's mom just married Declan's dad. They are living in the same house. And performing a love story for the camera is a lot harder when the boy you are supposed to be faking it with is sleeping two doors down the hall and making you feel things the script never planned for.

My parents and twin sister faked their own deaths so she could steal my college acceptance.

I believed it. Sobbed until I couldn't breathe when the cops showed me photos of the burnt yacht. Thought my words—"I hope you all die"—had somehow made it happen.

Two weeks later, I found my sister's backup Instagram: "Finally ditched the boring sister! Bahamas is paradise 🏖"

Something inside me snapped.

Wanna play dead? Stay dead.

I took their death certificates. Canceled their social security numbers. Drained every joint account—every last cent. Sold the house to John, the kind of guy even cops don't mess with.

One month later, they came home tanned and loaded with designer bags, expecting to find me broken on the streets.

What greeted them instead were cold gun barrels pointed at their heads.

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

“You want me,” Ace said with a smirk, his fingers grazing Spades’ cheek.

“I see it in your eyes, in the way your body responds to mine. You want me just as much as I want you. So why fight it, Spades? Why fight me?” he murmured, pressing their bodies together.

Spades stood frozen, torn between desire and dread, his heart hammering. Rage flickered in his voice.

“You’re married to my stepsister. You’re the heir to the Bratva. Do I need to list more reasons why this is a terrible idea? Why will this never work? You chose her, Ace. You married her. Think. Let me go.”

Ace’s eyes turned stormy.

“Never,” he growled—and then he kissed him.

Karlin “Ace” Marakov is the heir to the Bratva, the ruthless Russian Mafia. Arrogant, violent, and dangerously reckless, Ace destroys everything he touches. Tired of his self-destruction, his father—the Pakhan—forces him into marriage with Nina Ivanov, the daughter of his closest ally.

But Ace never wanted Nina.

He wanted her stepbrother.

Spades Ivanov grew up with nothing. Every meal was earned, every step forward fought for. Adopted by Lee Ivanov, he’s fiercely loyal—loyal enough to follow any order, no matter the cost.

When Ace and Spades crash into each other, it’s volatile, electric, and impossible to ignore. The tension becomes unbearable. Ace wants him—and he'll burn their entire world to the ground to have him.

Because in Ace’s mind, Spades is his.

THREE NIGHTS WITH THE LYCAN PRINCE
Prince Logan Odell, A Lycan. He was birthed by a woman who was discarded by her own pack and enslaved by the Alpha of Mystic Shadows Fortress where she had him. He was born into a life of torture and slavery despite his royal identity. As a result of this, he grew up hard and cold hearted. He vowed never to be weak like his mother. He deprived himself a chance to feel loved or ever love anyone. Until he met a certain green eyed girl who became his undoing.
Jovy Finlay, a beautiful latent wolf. She was maltreated, neglected and hated on by her family because of what they considered to be a deficiency; Being a latent wolf. Pains was evident in her existence.
Deciding to have fun a little after heeding the advice of her best friend, Jovy attended a free access frat party and from there she went on a three-day sex spree with a total stranger. He made her feel different. She fell in love with him.
Unfortunately, Jovy’s life took an abrupt turn when the whole pack decided to marry her off as a gift to a ruthless alpha just to gain his favor.
What happens when Logan finds himself fighting between his refusal to love and accept to love?
What will be Jovy’s next move after finding out that she has fallen in love with the most feared Lycan in their world?

!! Beware,this book contains mature content !!
"Welcome to Sin City"
Those were the words of Athena to Jason,one of the newbies at LA associates. Jason was a hotshot in the company that Legit Alpha ran. But with the arrival of Jason,some bizarre things start happening like the near assassination of the mayor and a threat on the president. Another employee, Marla,also wants a piece of Jason.
What no one really knows is the reason why Jason is in Sin City apart from Alpha. Driven by the lust for revenge, Jason is willing to go to any lengths to accomplish his goals. He is willing to lay waste to anyone and everything in his path because everytime he closed his eyes, his past haunted him. Secretly known by the alias Ghost of Europe,the most feared man in Europe and all over the world wants blood. Especially,the blood of a homicidal serial killer from his past branded the name Serbian Slayer
Follow Jason West in his quest for redemption and get to know what can drive a man to such lengths.
Will love dominate and overshadow revenge? What happens when Jason finally gets his hands on the killer from his past? Who will he choose between Marla and Athena? But most importantly, what happens when a man without anything to loose knows no limits?

Love lost, love chased, and love reborn—this collection of werewolf short stories weaves together tales of passion, heartbreak, and redemption.

From powerful Alphas who regret letting their fated mates slip away to strong-willed heroines who rise above betrayal, each story explores the raw emotions of second chances and self-discovery. Some wolves fight to reclaim what they've lost, while others learn that true strength lies in walking away.

As the moon guides them through pain and healing, they must decide: cling to the past or embrace the future?

In "Fated Mates Torn by Hate", experience stories of chasing love, finding self-worth, and letting go of old wounds to step into the light of a new dawn.

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

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

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

And now, he was my future stepson.

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

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

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

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

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


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

My coworker, Sloane, had a knack for turning brutal physical contact into her way of greeting.

She branded this as "American warmth" and an "outgoing personality."

At first, for the sake of office harmony, I assumed she was just clumsy and gritted my teeth to endure it.

That was until the incident in the breakroom. I had finally mustered the courage to discuss a design proposal with Liam, an engineer I had been secretly crushing on.

Out of nowhere, Sloane threw me into a chokehold masked as a bear hug, simultaneously driving her knee hard into the back of my legs.

Caught completely off guard, I lost my balance and lunged forward directly into Liam, practically ripping the buttons right off his dress shirt as I fell.

Instead of helping me up, Sloane gasped:

"Oh my god, Maeve! Look, I know you told me yesterday you dreamt of ripping Liam's shirt open, but you don't have to be so desperate in the office!"

Liam looked mortified.

Burning with humiliation, I scrambled to my feet, "Could you please keep your hands to yourself?!"

She jumped back, shouting even louder than I had. "Oh, come on! I was just trying to help you break the ice! Don't take it out on me just because you ruined it."

Heads turned across the entire bullpen. She doubled down, playing the victim with absolute righteous indignation:

"We are all adults here. If you can't even take a joke, who's ever going to want to work with you?"

I was rushing to perform an emergency surgery when a woman and her mother charged at me, slapping me to the ground. They accused me of being a corrupt, crooked doctor who prescribed fake drugs for kickbacks.
I begged for mercy, pleading that I needed to go perform surgery on my mother, but they beat me black and blue.
"A quack like you deserves to perform surgery?"
When my husband finally arrived, I thought he would stand up for me. To my absolute horror, he was already having an affair with that woman. He called me an embarrassment and sneered, "If your mother dies, it’s exactly what she deserves!"
I froze.
But, darling... the person dying on the operating table right now is your mother.

I thought fifteen years of marriage was unbreakable—until my husband, Daniel, and his first love, Chloe, joined hands and killed my only sister, Mia.
And Lucas—the son I'd raised for fifteen years—stood on their side and called me a "crazy woman."
At Mia's funeral, Chloe curled up in Daniel's arms and posted on Instagram: "Survived the storm—thank God I had you."
Lucas liked it and commented: "Aunt Chloe, get well soon! You're the one who deserves to stand besides Dad."
That was when I finally woke up.
I signed the divorce papers, walked away with nothing, and disappeared to Paris.
After I vanished for good, Daniel finally realized every "truth" was a lie. He went mad looking for me and chased me all the way to Paris.
And I gave him just one sentence:
"I don't hate you. I just don't love you anymore."

Five years. Five years I gave everything to Paxton Sterling—my heart, my body, my wolf's soul. I built his empire as Chief Strategy Officer while wearing his mark like a badge of honor.

Then she came back.

Layla—my pure-blooded half-sister with her perfect smile and poison tongue. Within days of her return from Europe, Paxton was ready to throw me away like yesterday's news.

"I want to sever our bond, Freya. Lyra is my true mate."

Wrong move, Alpha.

He thinks I'm just another submissive mate who'll quietly disappear. He's forgotten I'm a mixed-blood Alpha who's been playing nice for far too long. While he's busy playing house with my backstabbing sister, Lucas Morgan—the most dangerous Alpha in the territory—is making me an offer I can't refuse.

Paxton wants to discard me? Fine.

But he's about to learn that some women don't just walk away—they burn everything down on their way out.

I'm done being the good girl. Done being the perfect mate. Done hiding what I really am.

Sage Bennett is invisible. A poor, bullied transfer student with glasses, braces, and secrets no one bothers to uncover. Until she walks into Wildfire Racing—and catches the eye of Zane Wilder.
Future Alpha of the Nightfall Pack. Ruthless. Arrogant. And her new boss.
He accuses her of sabotage. Vows to destroy her. Then fate plays its cruelest trick: on her eighteenth birthday, Sage learns Zane is her fated mate.
His rejection is public. Brutal. It shatters her wolf and leaves her shattering on the floor.
But Sage is not merely an Omega, and she was never born powerless.
She is the hidden heir of a murdered Silvermoon Alpha, carrying a power dangerous enough to start a war.
Now, Sage must survive:
✔ A mate who despises her
✔ A dark goddess who wants her power back
✔ A death race that could kill them both
✔ And a truth more dangerous than any enemy
The shadow isn't her curse.
It's her weapon.
And Zane Wilder will learn: you don't reject a queen.

Contract Marriage+Kickass Heroine+Hidden Identity+Regret
For two long years, Aria Smith devoted everything to Ethan Holt, convinced she was his beloved Luna and his fated mate.
Until a trip to replace her lost marriage certificate shattered every lie.
Ethan had never loved her. Her closest best friend Clara was his real destined mate. The adopted son Aria had raised with all her love for two years was actually their biological child.
Before she could process the brutal truth, a sudden call overturned her whole life. She was not a lonely, powerless human orphan as she had always believed. She was the sole legitimate heir to Vincent Smith's staggering cross-realm fortune, inheriting his massive business empire that dominated both human and werewolf worlds.
Her heart completely broken, Aria made her choice without hesitation.
"I am single. Legally, I have never been anyone's wife."
She cut off all ties with the Silver Creek Pack and stepped into her rightful identity as a billionaire heiress overnight.
Ethan and Clara mocked her relentlessly. They believed the helpless human orphan could never survive outside the pack, and she would soon come crawling back begging for forgiveness.
They never foresaw the day they met again.
When Aria returned, she was no longer the humble, gentle human Luna who lived for Ethan. She stood powerful, wealthy, and untouchable, holding unmatched commercial power that shook the entire werewolf realm.
And right by her side stood a dominant, peerless Alpha King—someone far more powerful than Ethan could ever dare to rival, ready to burn the whole world down for her revenge.

"I, Owen Greystone, reject you, Ember Frost, as my future Luna and mate."
"Accept your rejection, you worthless human—and get lost."
Wolfless. Powerless. Unwanted.
Ember Frost had always known her place in the Moonshine Pack—at the very bottom. Taken in after being found in the woods as a child, she survived only through the love of her adoptive family.
On her twentieth birthday, everything should have changed. Owen Greystone, the future Alpha, turned out to be her fated mate—a bond meant to elevate her from insignificance.
But instead of acceptance, Ember received the ultimate humiliation. Before the entire pack, Owen rejected her with cruel contempt, crushing whatever fragile hope she had left.
Broken and desperate, Ember leapt from a cliff, believing her story had ended.
But fate wasn't done with her.
Rescued on the brink of death, Ember awakens to a truth that rewrites her entire existence: she is the long-lost daughter of the Lycan King, heir to the most powerful bloodline in the realm.
No longer the wolfless girl mocked by her pack, Ember begins her rebirth—training, rising, and claiming the strength that was always hers by birthright. And as she steps into her role as princess and future queen, she discovers a new kind of love—one she chooses for herself, not one dictated by destiny.
When Owen learns who she truly is, regret consumes him. Now he wants her back.
But Ember's heart belongs to someone else—and she is no longer the girl he once destroyed.
Owen will stop at nothing to reclaim her.
Ember will stop at nothing to protect her new world—even if it means facing the man who turned her life into ashes.
Because this time, Ember isn't the one who needs to "get lost."
This time, she's the one calling the shots.

Content Warning: Smut, Smut and Smut.

“Whose cock made you cry the loudest tonight?” Lucien’s voice was a low snarl as he gripped my jaw, forcing my mouth open.

“Yours,” I gasped, my voice wrecked from screaming. “Alpha, please—”

Silas’s fingers dug into my hips as he slammed back inside me, rough and unrelenting. “Liar,” he growled against my spine. “She sobbed on mine.”

“Should we make her prove it?” Claude said, his fangs grazing my throat. “Tie her up again. Let her beg with that pretty mouth until we decide she’s earned our knots.”

I was trembling, dripping, used—and all I could do was moan, “Yes, please. Use me again.”

And they did. Like they always do. Like they can’t help it. Like I belong to all three of them.


Lilith used to believe in loyalty. In love. In her pack.

But everything was torn away.

Her father—the late Beta of Fangspire died. Her mother, heartbroken, drank wolfsbane and never woke up.

And her boyfriend? He found his mate and left Lilith behind without a second glance.

Wolfless and alone, with hospital debt piling high, Lilith enters the Rite—a ritual where women offer their bodies to the cursed Alphas in exchange for gold.

Lucien. Silas. Claude.

Three ruthless Alphas, cursed by the Moon Goddess. If they don’t mark their mate before twenty-six, their wolves will destroy them.

Lilith was supposed to be a means to an end.

But something changed the moment they touched her.

Now they want her—marked, ruined, worshipped.
And the more they take, the more they crave.

Three Alphas.

One wolfless girl.

No fate. Just obsession.

And the more they taste her,

The harder she is to let go.

"I have to go," Casper gasps, covering his mouth the moment he hears Serene's name.
I reach for him, wrapping my hand around his wrist.
"If you walk away from this ceremony, I won't let you humiliate me again."
Casper brushes a stray strand of hair from my face. The familiar tingles from the mate bond spread across my skin, but instead of comfort, they feel like mockery.
"You're being dramatic, Lily."
"I mean it, Casper."
"I'll be right back. Wait for me here, and we can finish… this."
This. The word stings like a blade against my skin. Is this all that remains of our bond? Something inside me breaks into a thousand pieces, and I know it can't be put back together.


This is the THIRD time Casper has walked away for Serene.
Lilith swears she will never let anyone humiliate her again. Not her mate, not her Pack. She cuts her ties with the Pack to claim her own freedom.
She never expects to meet Kael, the heir to the Alpha King, a man who is willing to erase anyone who dares to stand in her way.


"I can make him disappear. Hell, I can get rid of anyone who bothers you. Just say the word."
I swallow hard at the seriousness in his gaze. "No. That won't be necessary."
Kael rises and presses a kiss to my forehead.
"Just say the word."