10000 Book(s) Related to you may kiss the bride

Three months ago, my life changed for the worst. I caught my boyfriend in bed with another woman and Instead of apologising, he told me I won't find another man better than him.

I took it personally and decided to make him choke on that.

So I made a deal with the one man guaranteed to prove him wrong~ His hockey captain, his idol, and the most dangerously confident man I've ever met.

Reid Williams.

The last man I should be making deals with.

He'll pretend to be mine to make my ex regret everything...

In return, I'll help him fix the reputation that's one bad headline away from destroying his entire career.

It's supposed to be simple, controlled, fake.

But Reid doesn't leave things halfway.

Nothing about the way he looks at me seems fake, nothing about the way his hand settles on my waist like it's a claim, nothing about the way his lips linger after a kiss.

And everytime I remember this is just a deal... He gives me a reason to forget.

My life took a turn for the worse when I married an arrogant billionaire who made me pregnant. Little did I know that this was just the beginning of my misery. However, a sudden and unexpected tragedy completely transformed my life, igniting a burning rage and deep contempt for him.

Believed to be dead by everyone, I have spent the past four years plotting my revenge. Returning now, my sole purpose is to make my billionaire ex-husband pay for what he did. With my own wealth, I will inflict torment upon his already debt-ridden existence.

The man I despise the most, Mr. Diego Alfonzo, is the target of my vengeance. I have vowed to myself that I will seek retribution against him.

My crave for revenge is insatiable; I yearn to witness his suffering.

Melisa returns to her hometown of Greenville and reunites with her childhood friend, Jack Louis.

Jack is one of the most terrifying legends whose life story has become an urban legend in the Appalachian Mountains region. He was the sole survivor of a tragic massacre perpetrated by his uncle that killed his aunt and his two cousins.

Melisa falls in love with Jack who is quiet, cold, mysterious and expressionless. In order to try to get Jack's attention and love, she is willing to take terrible risks that could threaten her life due to the terrible power that Jack Louis has.

Rubby Sandwood, a 20-year-old orphan, lost her parents at a young age and was taken by her by Alex Manchester, a werewolf slave driver. Alex was not kind to Rubby and maltreated her. Chelse, a blind and sensitive girl, saved Rubby twice and they began looking out for each other.

What happened when Silver Airstong, a powerful Alpha, come to Ruby’s rescue only to neglect her in his pack because she was a mare Omega

With silvers twin brother hot on his tale willing to capture Rubby to use as a leverage against him, will Silver finally put his mate above everything else?…

She was supposed to be powerless.

Everyone told her so: her family, her pack, and society itself.
Ravenna Vale was the mistake, the outcast, the shadow they were all ashamed to acknowledge.

But when her hidden power awakened, everything changed.

The Alpha wants her obedience.
The Council wants her compliance.
Her family wants her silence.

And Ravenna?
She wants none of it.

When a hidden Lycan discovers that she's not only powerful, but also unstoppable, she refuses to bow to anyone.
Not her family. Not the Pack. Not destiny.

She will rewrite the rules of their world.

This is the story of the woman who chose to become the feared Alpha, not the one they wanted her to be.

Welcome to HER reckoning.

His military medals from three hundred years ago are the last mark of his human identity; now hidden in a junkyard, he is forced to tear off the disguise of the progenitor of the night due to a forced marriage. With powerful figures pressing in, vampires besieging him, and the Holy See approaching, he, in his mortal body, protects the orphan of his benefactor and faces the destined battle.

For ten years, Aria believed her mate bond with Alpha Declan was sacred. Then he began spending every night in her adopted sister's nursery, and each visit sent agony through Aria's wolf. Pregnant, publicly condemned, and threatened with exile, Aria does the one thing no one expects: she demands that the bond be broken.

Declan thinks rank, family, and the pack's worship will silence her. He has no idea she is carrying proof that can strip him of everything.

I once believed becoming Empress would prove I was worthy.
Instead, the crown cost me my sister, my children, my freedom, and finally my life.
Reborn before my marriage was decided, I refused to repeat the same mistake. I stepped aside for my sister and accepted an engagement to Prince Rui—the empire’s charming, notoriously unambitious second prince.
He promised we could remain husband and wife in name only.
Then he fought my brother for hurting me, stayed beside me through a deadly fever, and offered to set me free when he thought I loved someone else.
For the first time, losing the crown felt like winning my life.

I was a wolfless Omega, and Ethan was the only home I had ever known.

So when his fertility report came back, I changed it and let his pack blame me for five barren years.

Then he moved his pregnant cousin into our house, and his mother forced a mate-severing potion into my hand.

They thought I had nowhere to go.

They didn’t know I wasn’t an orphan—I was the lost daughter of the Sterling royal line.

Nor did they know the pup his mistress carried could never have been his.

I left as Leah Carter, the Luna they threw away.

I returned as Princess Vivienne Sterling.

And the heir they celebrated?

A lie I was about to expose before the entire pack.

"911, what's your emergency?"
What came through wasn't words—it was raw, desperate sobbing.
In Oak Creek, a well-respected couple called to report their daughter had died. But when officers stepped through the door, what they found made a veteran sheriff drop to his knees and retch—
Their 36-year-old daughter had become part of the couch.
Her body had fused with decomposing foam, waste, and writhing maggots. Skin adhered to cracked leather. Her stomach contained couch padding and her own feces. She weighed 65 pounds.
Through tears, her parents explained: "She had severe autism... wouldn't let anyone touch her..."
But neighbors told a different story: Nobody had laid eyes on this girl in twelve years.
Then investigators found something beneath the couch—freshly used cleaning wipes.
Someone had crouched beside her decomposing body and methodically cleaned her. For days.
Then who stays that composed in hell?
Grief—or guilt?

I was once the most exquisite rose in New York's underworld.
Leander Castello's wife. The mafia godfather's treasured queen. The woman everyone envied.
I thought he would be my salvation, my forever.
Until he snapped me in half with his own hands and threw me into the filthiest pit like trash.
He said he needed to teach me what betrayal costs.
So I was handed over to the Mexican cartel boss, Carlos.
Six months later, when he kicked down that iron door, I was on my knees in a pool of blood, crawling toward his feet like a beaten dog.
I thought he was just another client.
I opened my mouth, revealing my shattered teeth, forcing sounds like grinding metal through vocal cords destroyed by industrial acid.
I mechanically unbuttoned my shirt, displaying the crisscrossing cigarette burns and brands covering my skin.
I knocked my forehead against his shoe, silently begging him not to use the hose on me today.
He stared at my mutilated right leg, at my vacant eyes, and finally understood—
That rose had rotted away on the cartel's operating table, along with our child.
What's left now is just a living corpse.

A month before my boyfriend Samuel and I were supposed to get married, he asked me to let another woman wear my wedding dress and move into my house.

It all started three months ago when his "old friend" Dahlia returned from overseas, supposedly with less than a year to live. A week ago, Samuel told me that Dahlia's dying wish was to become a bride before she passed away, and he was the chosen groom.

I kept saying no. But he brought it up every single day, insisting he had to help Dahlia because she had helped him when his company was in crisis three years ago, and he needed to fulfill her wish.

I was furious.

But in the end, I gave up the house and left him.

When my fiancé lets his new assistant put my name on the family purge list, he tells me it was only a joke. He expects me to apologize, come home, and keep standing beside him while everyone watches another woman take my place. So I let the order go through. I leave his family, his city, and the future he thought I would never dare abandon.

I broke the track record. My ex showed up with my best friend—his new fiancée—to humiliate me. Three years of betrayal, lies, and a career-ending crash that was never really an accident.
So I lied: told everyone I'm marrying Lorenzo Vitali, the man every driver fears and respects.
Problem? He heard everything. And he's not denying it.
Now my ex is spiraling, desperate to prove I'm still the broken girl he destroyed. My former best friend's perfect mask is cracking. And Lorenzo just stopped pretending this is fake.
They thought I'd crawl back. Instead, they're about to learn what happens when you push the wrong woman too far.

I took a submachine gun bullet for Mafia Don Vincenzo Lombardi. I drank poisoned wine for him and bore his heir. To the the entire syndicate, I was his loyal cleaner and lucky talisman.
But the moment he seized ultimate power, he brought her home—my "pure and fragile" adopted sister, Vanessa.
For her, Vincenzo shattered my knees, handed over my title as Donna, and turned my own son against me. He dismissed my broken heart, claiming I was being petty and that she was merely "joining the family."
Yet, the innocent Vanessa was a monster in disguise. She ruthlessly slit her own mother’s throat—the woman who raised me—and locked me in a sub-zero freezer.
When Vincenzo finally pried the heavy iron door open, there was no pity in his eyes. He only offered a cold command: crawl and beg his pregnant new Donna for forgiveness.
Wiping the bloody ice crystals from my lips, I looked at the man I had loved with my life, and rasped my final words: "Vincenzo... I'm dying."

My wolf was damaged the day I first shifted, when I was ten. I’ve healed slower than other wolves ever since, and a wolf like that can’t inherit a pack.

I grew up mocked and bullied for being the weak one.

My sister, Seraphina, shifted on the same day and came through it perfectly. She became the Alpha heir, the prodigy my parents poured everything into.

I thought they loved her more because she could carry the pack and I couldn’t. I took a rabid bear’s claws for her at thirteen. I was her sparring partner by day and her tutor by night, and I learned not to argue.

When Seraphina was accepted to the Royal Wolf Academy, the whole estate celebrated. My parents were going to escort her there themselves in a bulletproof Cadillac. But nobody cared that I’d been accepted to a college a thousand miles from home.

And today was the day I was leaving for school, too.

When I asked whether I should leave for the airport, my father told me to figure it out myself. My mother told me to clean up after my sister's party first.

I was done waiting for them to care. I decided to let them be the perfect family of three.

I already had a one-way ticket on my phone. By tonight, I would be gone from their lives.

In a decaying city apartment building, law-clerk Maya Carter is drawn to the sealed door of 5B—an address that should not exist, yet keeps receiving late-night deliveries and whispering back from the dark. Behind the rumors of a haunted unit lies a battered woman in hiding, and a chilling hunt led by men who weaponize authority, gaslight women living alone, and turn silence into a trap. Tense, claustrophobic, and razor-sharp, the story moves through dim hallways, yellow light under a door, bruised wrists, broken locks, and the fierce urgency of survival.

I used to think I was the luckiest woman in the world.

Married to my first love, Matteo Rossi—mafia boss—with an adorable son.

Until that afternoon. Luca was running a fever, whining for cake from that shop across town—a four-hour round trip.

I hesitated.

Matteo immediately chimed in: "Go ahead, babe. Don't worry, I got him."

I grabbed the car keys and turned. Before leaving, I glanced back—he was kneeling beside Luca's bed, his large hand gently stroking our son's burning forehead.

What a perfect fucking picture.

Until I heard that GODDAMN surveillance recording.

When the debate is evenly matched, it's called discourse.
When you drag a socially anxious mess who can barely string together a coherent sentence onto the judgment platform of Ivy League elites—that's public execution.
My name is Scarlett Hayes. Ten minutes ago, if anyone had told me I'd be standing in a two-thousand-seat auditorium, pointing at Arthur—the nation's debate king—and shredding his logic to ribbons, I would've told them to see a shrink.
But right now, that sketchy pink energy shot I slammed down is surging through my bloodstream like molten adrenaline.
And that logic engine—the one that's been dead for twenty years, paralyzed by fear—just roared back to life.

To save my girlfriend, I crippled my right leg, reducing myself to the lowest scum in the shelter for anyone to trample on.

In return, I watched her nestle in the leader’s arms, using perfume in disgust to mask her nausea at my festering wound. To prove her loyalty to her new lover, she coldly looked down at me and pressed the release switch, plunging my broken body into a waste pit dozens of meters deep.

Waiting below were thousands of pale, starving skeletal claws.

They thought they had simply discarded an eyesore, free to continue their comfortable lives up in the high tower. Little did they know, the Dark-Gold tier virus dormant within my ruined leg finally awakened, triggered by the scent of fresh blood.

When the endless zombie horde fell to their knees at my feet, letting out whimpers of absolute submission, I knew—it was time for me to rewrite the rules of survival in this wasteland.

The five of us were dragged into a twisted nightmare.
The game rules were absolute: Kill the Boss. All members survive. Total escape.
Luckily, we each spawned into the game with a supernatural perk.
Relying on our powers and our bond, we spent six grueling hours tearing the massive, horrific beast apart.
All we had to do was step into the extraction portal to wake up in Oregon.
My friends were screaming in victory, already planning our celebration at Voodoo Doughnuts.
Instead, I was frozen. My heart wasn't racing with adrenaline anymore; it was cold. Absolute zero.
Because my real perk tracked the Boss status.
Floating in the center of my vision, cutting through the shadows, were two lines of text that only I could see:BOSS STATUS: ALIVE.DISGUISED. The monster wasn't dead. It was standing right here, wearing the face of one of my best friends!

Married for years, I caught my husband in bed with another woman.
He had nothing at all once; it was only after being with me that he became the CEO of a company and made his fortune.
I asked for a divorce, and he flew into a rage and locked me in a dog cage.
But what he never saw coming was that I had long been ready to take my revenge.

The poor girl my family funded is known as a "clumsy sweetheart."
Before the CIF Volleyball Finals, she spiked my drink with banned stimulants.
I was reported for doping, stripped of my UCLA scholarship, permanently banned, and expelled in disgrace.
When I confronted her, she cried innocent tears:
"Scarlett, I just wanted you to have enough energy to win... I didn't know it was banned."
My boyfriend Jake wrapped his arms around her, glaring at me: "She was just trying to help! Why are you always so mean to her?"
Ruined and depressed, they came to "apologize" with bottles of hard liquor.
She fed me lethal meds when I was drunk, watching me bleed to death on the floor.
Her excuse? "I'm so silly, I mixed up the pill bottles..."
And my boyfriend testified to the police that I committed suicide out of shame.
Then, I open my eyes. I'm back to the day before the finals.

This was the thirty-third time I caught Vance and my stepsister stark naked in a hotel room.
 
He smashed a liquor bottle and drove the jagged glass toward his own groin.
 
Flying shards of glass sliced across my cheek.
 
He stared at me like I was a totally unreasonable lunatic. "Could you just let me go?"
 
Watching the blood instantly soak the bedsheets red, I felt a sudden, disorienting wave of blankness.
 
After all, during our most vicious standoff, I had floored the gas pedal and driven toward a cliff with my stepsister in the passenger seat just to force him to come home. His response? He dragged my mother in front of the car, standing right beside her, and sneered, asking if I still wanted him home.
 
Vance and I were like two beasts trapped in a colosseum, proving our existence by tearing each other apart. Neither of us would back down. Neither of us would let go.
 
But now, shielding my stepsister behind him, his eyes held nothing but profound exhaustion. "Don't hurt Lorna. I'm tired. Just let me go."
 
He was conceding. For my stepsister.
 
This tragic, belated surrender reduced my last five years of paranoia and obsession into an absolute joke.
 
My hand had been hidden inside my coat pocket the whole time. Now, my fingertips slowly relaxed their death grip on the crumpled ultrasound slip.
 
Staring at the blood-soaked bed and the way he protectively shielded her, an overwhelming exhaustion washed over me.
 
I truly didn't have the strength to play this game with him anymore. It was time to end it.

To save my dying brother, I signed a million-dollar contract: sleep with a comatose billionaire to secure an heir. My boyfriend swore it was just a harmless formality. One night. One permanently locked door. But as I nervously approached the mattress, the paralyzed heir suddenly opened his eyes. And he whispered a terrifying warning...

The floodwaters rushed into the basement, trapping my sister Isabella and me in the surging currents.

My brother, a former Navy SEAL, smashed through the window. Without a second of hesitation, he secured the rescue rope around Isabella.

"You're a good swimmer, figure your own way up! Isabella can't take the cold, I have to get her out first!"

He abandoned me and turned to hoist the rope, accidentally kicking away the only wooden crate keeping me afloat.

Once Isabella was pulled up, she reached down and slid the outer latch, deadlocking the only vent grate.

The floodwaters instantly swallowed me whole. Mud and debris violently surged into my mouth and nose. I was drowned alive.

My mom ran an exclusive underground fertility clinic. Her dark red serum smelled like rotting blood, yet the rich still lined up with massive checks for her "perfect designer embryos."
I’d watch her lock desperate young surrogates into a soundproof room. A few minutes later, the whole floor would shake.
Strangely, when the girls stumbled back out—looking entirely drained and aged by years—they would weep and kiss my mom’s hands in gratitude.
It never made sense to me.
Until the day I saw a pitch-black mass frantically clawing just beneath a surrogate's flat stomach.
I finally knew what kind of "embryos" my mom was actually planting inside them.

I gave him seventeen chances to marry me, yet he eagerly toasts with his new flame, showers her with gifts, and retreats to hotels with her.
He has forgotten that I do not have pierced ears, presenting me annually with earrings I can never wear; he has overlooked our seven-year anniversary but vividly remembers the one-year anniversary of his new lover's employment.
Seventeen promises of marriage, each one an empty promise; seven years of devoted affection, ultimately reduced to a mere laughingstock.
So I flew straight to his worst nightmare—Mexico.
And let him burn in the regret he never earned.

I died on my birthday.

While kidnappers shattered my limbs and violated me to death, my family was throwing a grand party for my sister Chloe—yes, we shared the same birthday, but only hers was worth celebrating.

I called my father for help. He sneered and hung up: "Stop using this pathetic kidnapping stunt to ruin Chloe's birthday."

I called my fiancé Mark. He said with disgust: "If you're going to die, do it somewhere far away."

In the final second before the flames consumed me, I finally understood—

I was never loved in this family.

And now that I'm truly dead, now that they've discovered Chloe hired those men to kill me, now that the truth has been exposed to the world...

Will they regret it?

Or will they, as always, continue to favor Chloe and blame everything on me—the dead one?

I found a black lace panty under my husband's car. Black lace. Definitely not mine.
Three months. That's how long he'd been telling everyone he was done with herm, telling his mom, telling our friends, telling me. I actually believed him. I thought we were finally okay.
Then I found the dash cam footage from the night before, and I heard him tell his buddy he'd never once felt anything real with me. Not in ten years. Not once.
So yeah. He came home. He just never really left her.
I didn't scream. I didn't confront him. Found her address off his phone.Brought a cake and a bottle of wine like I actually gave a damn.
Had my assistant livestream the whole thing.
The second that door opened, half a million people watched me hand him that cake.
"Surprise. Bet you weren't expecting this."

On the night of Reeve’s birthday, I drove to his family’s coastal estate with a premium ribeye and a bottle of Pinot Noir, ready to give him a romantic surprise.
But the rug was shifted three inches, and a single drop of dark blood hid in the floorboards. Before I could run, a gun barrel pressed against the back of my head.
The man was impeccably dressed and terrifyingly calm. Upstairs in my bathtub lay the corpse of his pregnant wife.
He ordered me to help him dispose of the body and cover up the crime. My only thought was to stall until my husband got home.
That is, until he spoke—and revealed the root of this massacre. Everything was my husband's fault.

My world fell apart the day I got scratched by my best friend Coralie’s cat, and she handed me that "miracle" ointment.
Rosalind, the mentor I had respected for years, suddenly turned on me, cutting all ties in a fit of rage that landed her in the hospital.
My mother, Adrienne, transformed overnight, screaming abuse and kicking me out of her house.
And Dorian, my fiancé, publicly humiliated me at our engagement party, viciously calling off the wedding.
Driven to despair, I wandered into the street and was nearly killed by a car. In the shocking clarity of that near-death moment, I finally realized the twisted truth behind everyone’s sudden, violent disgust for me...

I died in an abandoned cabin in the pack's old lumberyard.
Wolfsbane burned through my veins. Pure silver chains bit into my wrists, charring the flesh down to the bone.
The news alarmed my husband, Alistair, the Alpha of the Riven Pack. Standing over my corpse, he couldn't fathom who would torture a woman so ruthlessly on his territory. Enraged, he swore to slaughter the killer himself.
He didn't know it was me.
I had been missing for seven days. Even with everyone telling him I was gone and something wasn't right, he insisted I was just throwing a fit.
That was until his mistress, Sylvie, ran to him in tears, clutching her cheek. She claimed I had publicly slapped her and thrown my late mother's necklace in her face.
Furious, he pulled out his phone to call me, demanding I crawl back and apologize immediately.
Instead, his Beta's trembling voice came through the speaker: "Alpha, we found this phone... in the abandoned cabin at the old lumberyard."

I'm a blind girl, and I've always been close with the old lady living next door.
One day, I caught the smell of blood coming from her apartment.
Worried something had happened to her, I pushed her door open—and instantly realized my mistake.
I had walked right into a murder scene.
The killer was still there.
I had to take a chance.
Betting that my pale, sightless eyes could fool those blood-crazed ones.
I stepped into the blood-soaked room, smiled toward where the body lay, and called out,
"Ma'am, the store has oranges on sale—I brought some over for you..."

I was accused by my beloved Alpha, Kael, of "spiritual mark plagiarism," and he even added the "soul-burning curse" to the blazing fire. He whispered, "This is all for our future."

Before I jumped off the cliff, I finally understood — this was all just to awaken my bloodline power.

After the fall, the blood moon cracked open, and black light enveloped me. To my shock, I was reborn seven days before the trial, with the Shadow Queen bloodline awakening within me.

Upon my return, I found Kael still making “spirit herb soup” for me every day. I secretly poured the soup into a flowerpot, and the flower instantly withered. The doubts in my heart grew clearer.

At the Moonlight Spring, I caught him and Lyra in an intimate moment. When I confronted him, Kael said, "I got close to her for you." He said it so casually, yet my heart was shattered like glass.

In this entangled web of love and betrayal, can I succeed in my revenge?

The day I was reborn, I finally saw the truth about my so-called “savior.”
He wasn’t my Fate Mate. He was a nightmare wearing a smile.
In my last life, he reached out a gentle hand to “rescue” me—only to chain me down as a breeding tool and a free maid. In the end, even our own son despised me, sneering that I was worthless because I couldn’t hand over one million. I died alone on the streets, abandoned and humiliated.
This time, at the same crossroads, I ran into him again. His voice was as soft as ever:
“Miss, you look weak. Let me help you.”
But the moment I heard it, my blood turned to ice. My wolf roared inside me—Don’t let him touch you!
“Don’t touch me!” I stumbled back, trembling but unyielding.
He only smiled, but in his eyes shadows stirred.
“Darling, don’t push yourself. Being late for work won’t kill you.”
But I knew better. If I let him close, if I let him chain me again—my fate would replay in the same nightmare loop.
Not this time.
In this life, I’ll rip away the mask.

"We can't," I gasped, even as my body arched into his. "Finnegan, we—"
"Shut up," he growled against my skin, recapturing my lips. This kiss was slower, deeper, weighted with all the words we couldn't say.
When we finally broke apart, we were both breathing heavily. My lips were swollen, and my usually immaculate hair was disheveled. I was trapped between his body and the desk as I knew he was unwilling to let this moment end just yet.
"This changes nothing," I whispered, but my voice lacked conviction.
He smiled against my temple, a cold, knowing smile. "It changes everything, Ophelia. You just don't know it yet."

Ophelia tried every way to keep her distance from her boss as well as her ex-boyfriend while keeping her daughter a secret from him. Finnegan Shaw, being Ophelia's mysterious husband, had fallen in love again with Ophelia while refusing to let her off so easily after her betrayal six years ago.

When they face their true feelings, how would they choose? What awaits them is a wonderful yet unknown journey back to love.

Pedro Hernandez spent seven years away from Los Angeles and after the death of his father, Maxwell Hernandez, he can finally return home. With Max's death, Pedro feels relief and freedom, after living a lonely life, trapped in Madrid, a city he hated, far from the people he loved. However, everything he knew is completely different and now he must adapt to the city again while taking on the responsibility of being the CEO of his father's company, something Max considered "The Hernandez Empire". His reunion with old acquaintances after so many years may bring back memories. Pedro faces a reality check when he meets Adrielle, his old girlfriend, someone he was forced to leave behind, married to Leonard Williams, a mysterious man who could threaten the stable life of the Hernandez family. Torn apart by anger, resentment and hurt feelings, Pedro is burdened with yet another conflict: Leonard is not only his love rival, but also the heir to the estate left by Max. The tension and anger grow with each passing moment, as Pedro tries to deal with Leonard, take over the company and make up for the years stolen from him. Pedro is no longer the same man who left Los Angeles seven years ago, there is resentment and anger surrounding his heart. With Max's death, he has a second chance to live alongside the people he loves, but he still wants answers to all the evil caused by his father. Is Pedro really willing to discover all of Max's secrets? How many tears can love endure?

For a whole year, Aurora waited for a cornea transplant. Her husband, Oliver, stole it at the last second for his mistress, Claire. Twelve unanswered calls later, Aurora caught him at the hospital, tenderly accompanying Claire to her prenatal checkup.

Aurora begged him to stay, however, Oliver merely threw the divorce papers right into her face. She signed in ten seconds flat and walked away. When her toxic sister-in-law came to mock her, Aurora ripped her to shreds.

Everyone expected Aurora to crawl back crying. Instead, she listed her wedding ring on a pawn site, packed her bags, and vanished.

She left without a backward glance. So why is the man who signed those papers in a furious rage suddenly turning back?

A bully, a bad boy, and the person she hated most. ONCE AJERK__ALWAYS A JERK? "Marry me. This is the only way you can survive in this world."" He could marry anyone but all he wanted was her, a married woman. Scared but she didn't want him to save her. ""I'd choose de... death rather than be.. being your wife."" She said in a trembling voice. ""Then how about me giving you the sweetest death possible?"" He walked towards her, making her step backwards. ""What?"" Suddenly he kissed her in front of everybody out of nowhere. In the spotlight, he pronounced in front of everyone that she belonged to him but why?
Two years passed, but he did not change at all. How about her? Why did he come back to her life again? After everything that she went through because of him, was not it enough for him? Why did he show up when she was happy and he offered her a contract? She knew that Preston Adam Collymore never had any interest in her then why...

I take a deep breath as I step out of the car, and Kyle's sandalwood scent hits me like a ton of bricks.

My wolf growls in my mind, "Mate."

Kyle strides toward me with his arms outstretched, but before he can reach me, Atticus gets out of the car behind me. A low growl rumbles in Atticus's chest, serving as a reminder that I belong to him. 

I clear my throat awkwardly, "Alpha Kyle, this is Alpha Atticus of the Warrior Pack."  


Eryn's life was going according to plan. She had the man of her dreams and received a prestigious invitation to the Warrior Academy. What she didn't plan on was the immediate betrayal from Kyle as soon as she left the Twilight Pack. 

Heartbroken from the betrayal, she turns to Atticus, the gruff Alpha of the Warrior Pack and the head professor. As she finds comfort in Atticus's unwavering support, an unexpected bond forms between them. 

However, when the three- Eryn, Kyle, and Atticus- are brought together, emotions run high, and things become even more complicated. While Kyle fights to win back Eryn, Atticus fights to keep her. 

Who will Eryn finally choose? Her Brother's Best Friend or Her Alpha Professor?

"You feel so f*king good." a deep voice, one I knew all too well, grunted.
I watched my husband Daniel and my assistant Esme banging each other right on my table. My hands flew to my mouth as realization dawned on me, the shock from seeing and hearing them made me shift back, stumbling against the table, and I pushed the chair backward.
"Did you hear that?"
I quickly dodged and stepped back from the glass view.
"What?" Daniel hissed impatiently.
"I think I heard-" Esme trailed off, "Never mind, just hurry up already."
"No need to rush, there is still time before the btch lands." His statement was like a slap to my face, my ears were ringing.
"Really?"
"Yes, baby, a few more rounds for us."
"Once she's back, I can't have you."
"I know, but it's just for a while, you know it's you I love, it's her money that's keeping me."
Their mixed chuckle ran across the room, traveled up my nerves, and made my heart sink to my stomach.


When Elsie uncovers the affair between her husband and her trusted assistant, her world shatters. The dual betrayal by the man she loved for years and the assistant she relied on leave her devastated and nearly hopeless.
But after the initial shock, Elsie regains her strength. She contacts a lawyer to prepare for divorce and makes a bold move- switching jobs and joining the company of her longtime rival, Albie.

What starts as a search for solace turns into something much more dangerous. Albie's relentless pursuit leaves Elsie feeling increasingly drawn to him, despite her resolve. Will she lose herself in a passion she never expected, or find a new path to healing?

“See? Mom warned you a long time ago—Rehn is a venomous snake to the bone.”
When a monster tore my right arm apart, and I watched my so-called best brother scoop up all the rations and run without looking back, my mother’s voice suddenly sounded inside my head.
But she’d died five years ago.
Mom told me my “good brother” hadn’t gone far at all.
He was hiding nearby, waiting for the monster to leave so he could come back and play the hero.
He would stash the ammunition, swap out my antibiotics, and in the end use me as the perfect meat shield—kicking me straight into a dead end.
To stay alive, I swallowed my blood-soaked humiliation and played along with him for a full one hundred and twenty minutes of brotherly devotion.
Until he finally tore off the mask and shoved me toward the most horrifying mutant.
I sneered and tossed away my self-defense knife.
Brother, you want to be a god of the wasteland?
Sorry. I’m going to be that god.

The day I found out Quinn Prescott had pulled strings to give away my Ivy League recommendation to some transfer student, I packed up everything he'd ever given me and dumped it on his doorstep.
The next day, I found that same box in the dumpster outside my building.
Quinn's face was twisted with irritation.
"Drop it. So what if we don't go to the same college? You can get a full ride anywhere on your own, but Paula can't even afford tuition without that recommendation letter."
He let out a cold laugh. "And if this actually blows up, I promise you—it won't be me walking away with regrets."
I pressed the UCL acceptance letter tighter against my back, looking at him one last time with perfect calm.
He looked exactly like he always did when he knew he'd already won—like the outcome wasn't even a question.
But Quinn, I don't need you either.
My one-way ticket to London was already booked. We never had to see each other again.

The alliance between the Human Empire and the Wolf Empire has stood for centuries. The treaty requires the Human Empire to send a princess to the Wolf Empire every so often, to become the Wolf King's mate and strengthen the bond between our kingdoms. Now, it's time to honor that pact again.

Father is old now, ready to step down. My sister and I have to choose.

In my past life, Adelaide chose the throne. She thought power meant she could do whatever she wanted. Within three years, the Human Empire crumbled in her hands. At home, she bled the people dry, filling her own coffers while they starved. Abroad, her arrogance drove away our allies. The Dwarven Empire, the Serpent Empire, they all cut ties. In the end, the surrounding kingdoms banded together and attacked. The Human Empire fell in the war. Our parents died by enemy blades, and Adelaide had to flee.

And me? I went to the Wolf Empire, just like the treaty said.

On the surface, I was the Wolf Queen, worshipped by every wolf, living in the grand Wolf Court, attending state banquets. In reality, I was his prisoner. Forced to run as prey in the hunting ritual, slapped to the ground in front of the council, shoved forward as a hostage when conflicts arose.

At one banquet, Adelaide appeared in front of me, gripping a dagger, madness burning in her eyes. "This is your fault! If you hadn't been so useless in the Wolf Empire, we wouldn't have lost everything!"

The blade sank into my chest. I collapsed in a pool of blood.

When I open my eyes again, I'm back in the throne room with Father watching us.

Adelaide barely hesitates before speaking up. "I'll go to the Wolf Empire. Let Brynn take the throne."

I smile.

Foolish Adelaide. She has no idea that beneath the Queen's crown lies nothing but chains and blood.

Married to Declan Hargrove for three years, I kept my past locked away tight. I let no one near Greybell, and I never, ever mentioned the name Calloway.
Until Piper excitedly dug up the "incest scandal" between me and my own brother. The Hargrove family booked their flights that very night, vowing to fly to Greybell and tear my "white-trash" parents to shreds.
I knelt on the carpet, shaking and sobbing.
But hiding behind the curtain of my long hair, no one saw the truth. I wasn’t begging for my own life.
I was begging for theirs.
Because my brother, Reid, had already gotten the news. He was in Greybell right now, preparing an unforgettable "feast" for our arrogant guests.

At my mother's funeral, my fiancé held my frail Omega servant tightly in his arms.
And my father—the Alpha of the Crescent pack—struck me across the face in front of everyone, all for the sake of the woman who had gotten my mother killed.
"Your mother brought this on herself. Lilith is just a poor, helpless girl!"
That was the moment I heard my faith in this family shatter.
Later, to force me to bow to Lilith, they smashed the one relic my mother had left behind, right in front of my eyes.
I looked at them and smiled coldly. Then I turned and stepped off the edge into the abyss.

That wedding in Rome was the last time I ever saw him as his “stepsister.”
I was the Roxie family’s only daughter. After my father remarried, my mother and I moved into the Corleone estate, and from that day on, Elias became my stepbrother—also the one obsession I should never have touched.
Out in public, he was always calm and controlled. At home, though, one line from him “Don’t call me brother” made my heart race.
Until the day he held Sophia’s hand in front of a priest and announced he was going to marry her.
I was outside the venue, bending down to pick up empty bottles because I needed dialysis money. He crushed them under his shoe in front of everyone, humiliated me, and forced me to trade my dignity for cash, like he was nailing the word “step-siblings” onto a pillar of shame.
He hated me. He said I’d “gotten back at him” in the filthiest way. I just smiled and never explained.
Because he would never know the truth: back then, the reason I shoved him away with everything I had was only because I wanted him to live a little cleaner.
That night, he locked me in a pitch-dark storage room. Outside the door was wedding music. Inside was my blood and the suffocating despair.
When he finally opened the door… I was already dead.

I waited twenty years for my wolf.
She never came. No first shift at sixteen. No stirring at eighteen. Nothing. My parents crossed the continent chasing rare awakening herbs—moonpetal, silverroot, anything with a rumor attached.
None of it worked.
I died without ever hearing her voice. Throat torn open in my own bed by Brennan Falk, the son of my live-in caretaker.
That's when I finally learned why she never woke.
The "awakening blend" Dorene brewed me every night was laced with wolfsbane. Enough to keep my wolf buried forever. Enough to keep me weak, wolfless, and easy to kill.
And the awakening chamber my parents built for me—the one I was too heartbroken to ever set foot in—had been housing her entire family. Five rogues, living under my floor for over a year, eating my food, selling my herbs, waiting for the right moment.
After I died, they forged my exile papers. My parents flew home from an herb auction in Ashmoor to an empty house and a letter. They believed their daughter had given up and left the pack.
Then I opened my eyes. Three days before Brennan's fangs.
The first thing I did was text a witch about the awakening chamber.

Dirt buried my broken body inch by inch, suffocating me.

"Don't blame me for being heartless, Olivia. Blame your own naivety!" Samantha White’s voice hissed above me like a viper.

Then came her smug confession. She was the one who swapped my father’s emergency medicine. She drove my mother to jump to her death with fake photos of an affair. Even my brother’s fatal racing accident was her handiwork. Rage consumed me; I wanted to tear her limb from limb, but her next words killed my spirit entirely.

"Your fiancé, John, used the money from your sold kidney to buy my engagement ring. We've been together all along."

The cold earth fell, and my world went dark.

Then, I woke up. I was back at my nineteenth birthday gala. John was right there, cornering me, demanding I apologize for pushing Catherine into the pool. This time, I didn't back down. The schemes and the hatred of my past life—I’m going to make you pay it all back, with interest.