1558 Book(s) Related to as calvin reads a science fiction novel

A baby who never cried — not even once, was abandoned at the borders of Aquila Pack, surrounded by seven ravens. She was named Raven, raised as a cursed slave, dangerously beautiful yet wolfless and despised by all.
When the dying Alpha King of the powerful Novark Pack can only be healed by a single drop of her tears, she is dragged from her life of silent suffering into the royal palace.
The king's obsession with her becomes its own kind of prison — and his rebellious, hate-filled son, Prince Cyrus, who came home hoping to bury his father, finds his fated mate is the very girl who saved the man he despises.
He wants nothing to do with her. Yet he may be the only one who can see the truth of what she really is.

I never believed in fate, but that is the only way the four of us could have ever found each other. Adam Westmont, Adrian Volkov, and Anthony Davis were the golden boys of high society in our city. They were born with everything they could ever want at their finger tips, while I was not. Life wasn't as easy for me as it was for them, and maybe that was how is meant to be. Until fate brought them into my life one by one. Then tragedy hit us all. In the span of one week we all lost our family in suspicious deaths. When we are nearly taken out by someone trying to silence me for good, the guys basically kidnap me to find out what I know. The more we talk the more we start to realize that the deaths of our parents might have more in common than it seems.
The police are too scared to go near this case, so it's up to us to find out the truth. But the truth could either bring us together once and for all or destroy everything we have built.
Fate may have brought us together but it won't save us when the truth comes out. Nothing can stop the storm that's coming.

Loanshark Frank Powers lives by two simple philosophies:Loyalty to friends.You sign, you’re mine.Go back on your word, and Frank pays you a visit. If he likes you, and if he believes you, the brass syringe stays in his pocket.Now Frank must become a savior instead of a shylock. Many lives now depend on his strength and old skills shaken free of mothballs.Gangsters, guns, girls, and greed. Agonist rides a rollercoaster through the dips and dives of rage and redemption.

I am a mermaid.

To walk toward him, I swallowed a dark potion, shedding my tail for a pair of legs.
Every step felt like treading on sharp blades, yet I endured it all willingly.
He took me in, promising to protect me for the rest of my life.

Then, his ex-lover returned.

She orchestrated one accident after another to frame me—a slashed costume, a staged fall down the stairs... And every single time, convenient "eyewitnesses" immediately pointed their fingers at me.

He believed them all.

Until a falling stage light crushed her legs.
He pinned me to the operating table, personally severed my legs, and transplanted them onto that woman.

What he didn't know was that anyone who walked on these legs would have to suffer the excruciating agony of stepping on knives.
He simply told me coldly: "You ruined her ability to dance, so you will pay with your legs."

That night, alone and broken, I wheeled myself to the beach.
Using only my bare hands, I crawled across the coarse sand, into the crashing waves, and returned to my true home.

——Leaving him to stare at the security monitors, watching helplessly as I sank into the dark sea, never to surface again.

The system made me an outcast live-in husband in a werewolf clan for three years. The mission reward: 80 billion dollars. Now there's only half a day left until retirement settlement.

The arrogant pure-blood Alpha wants to force me into a deadly full moon execution array, roaring for me to kneel and die.

I don't even lift an eyelid. Right at quitting time, I directly withdraw my soul, leaving the body to the original owner "Ancestor Wolf Emperor" to handle, while I return to my Manhattan penthouse, sink into the leather sofa, and start a holographic livestream.

"Enjoy your night shift, everyone." I take a light sip of hot coffee, coldly watching the screen as the Wolf Emperor crushes that pure-blood Alpha's spine into mush with one foot, shocking my mission wife and mother-in-law into idiots.

In their eyes, my wife Emma—an Ivy League tenured professor in biological sciences—is ruthless, rational, and obsessively clean.
For seven years, even when she washed her hands, she would only ever touch the right-side sink—hers.
Until that night at 3 a.m., when I pulled a strand of sandy-golden short curl—hair that belonged to neither of us—out of my men’s shower loofah.
And around the neck of a pre-med student named Lucas, I saw the antique silver cross my dying father left in my hands.
When I confronted her, my always-icy wife protected the little homewrecker, slapped me across the face, and called me a jealous, controlling chauvinist.
She thought I’d swallow it like a coward.
But she forgot: as a top cardiothoracic chief, the thing I do best is cutting out tumors.

After I retired, I was willing to do the dirtiest work at a small auto repair shop—just to give my sick daughter an ordinary childhood.
I endured my mother’s insults, my eldest brother’s wage cuts, my younger brother’s extortion.
But they actually joined forces to steal my daughter’s life-saving money for gambling, then sold me into an illegal mine to pay off their debts.
When the iron chain locked around my wrist, when my daughter cried in despair, the killing intent that had slept in my blood for three years finally woke up completely.
They had no idea I was once the iron-blooded God of War—commander of a million troops, the name that made enemy nations tremble.

My fiancée, with whom I've been in a relationship for three years, has threatened to break off our engagement for the hundredth time, forcing me to donate a kidney to her adopted brother, who's faking illness and acting like a hypocrite.

My biological parents even threatened to sever ties with me: "You have a healthy body. Ian has nothing but us. You can't even bear to part with a kidney. You're so selfish and cold-blooded!"

They don't know that my hands, which I used to play the piano, had already been crushed by gangsters while cleaning up their mess; they also don't know that at this moment, I have a critical illness notice for late-stage bone cancer in my pocket.

Seeing the undisguised disgust and indifference in my fiancée's eyes, I swallowed the taste of blood in my throat and calmly signed the consent form for the live organ removal.

"Okay, I'll donate. I'll give you back my life along with it."

Later, I died like a dog on the rusty operating table of a shady clinic, my bones and marrow completely drained.

But when I was truly reduced to dust and left without even a complete corpse... the truth about my vicious foster brother faking illness was exposed.

The aloof and arrogant female CEO who once treated me like trash went completely mad overnight.

She knelt desperately before my nameless grave, plunged a sharp knife into her abdomen, and collapsed in a pool of blood, pleading for me to see her one more time.