1966 Book(s) Related to daisy darker: a novel book review

A natural born female Alpha is unheard of in the werewolf world. It's always the first born male that's the Alpha. However, at least one exists. Faelyn was sold to another pack at the age of eight under a false name and rank after being ripped away from her parents and brother who disappeared without a trace. She spent ten years being mistreated and abused in the Red Moon pack as Alyce Lilly, Omega to the Pack Manor. She also spent ten years plotting revenge on the man responsible for taking everything away from her, including her pack and her family. She has plans to leave Red Moon and seems the stars are aligning for her do so successfully. Fate, however, has other plans for her when she discovers her mate and rejects him without hesitation. With her best friend by her side she presses forward with her plans, only for another to throw her off again. Will she succeed in getting back her rightful pack while keeping her secrets safe until she does? Will she find the answers she seeks, the family she secretly yearns for?

“I prefer to be in the arms of other men who would treat me right than be with you anymore” she breathed out.
“How dare you” he yelled at her face while she stood her ground to him.
“What are you...”
Before she could finish her sentence, he pinned her to the wall and kissed her fiercely. He wrapped her legs around his waist leaving her back pinned to the wall as he deepened the kiss.
He pulled away from the kiss slowly kissing her neck in turn as his hand slid into her panties. His fingers fondled with her wet folds giving her shimmers of pleasure she had never felt.


Elaine, a beautiful young lady who had everything just found out that she had cancer and had about a year to live. Shattered by the news, she hid it from her family that maltreated only for them to realize the truth and cuss her out breaking her heart.In a bid to enjoy her life to the fullest, she had a one night stand with a man but to her greatest surprise, it turned out to be her husband.

"What have you done to me, Alicia?" I closed my eyes, feeling her warmth on my hands as I caressed her cheeks, sliding my fingers through her hair and sniffing her vanilla fragrance until it filled my whole body. My eyes turned red as I looked at her sexy collarbone to her neck.

"Hmm…" She moved her head sideways, still inside the dream I created for us. "Aki…hmm…ohhh…"

My heart stole a beat when I heard her say my name. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. When I opened my eyes, she was still moaning about my name.

I found myself sniffing her hair until my mouth reached for her neck. I licked it…positioning my fangs…

Akihiro is a pureblood vampire who has been living for a hundred years. He is the next in line to be the King of the Vampires so through the years he focused on being the greatest of all pureblood vampires and trained himself. His family has been ruling an Old Town in the countryside where they built a day class and night class, dividing the vampires and humans.

Alicia is a normal university student, top of her class, soon to be doctor, and a part of the drama club where Akihiro formed it. Her family moved to the Old Town when she was in high school due to some personal reasons she isn’t aware of. But, soon she will find out that it is all connected to Akihiro, the man she hates.

Falling in love with a human is forbidden especially when he is the next king of the pureblood vampire. Well, if that was the case, Akihiro is willing to let go of his throne. However, Alicia is no ordinary human. She is the daughter of the strongest vampire hunter clan who had been their family's rival for a thousand years. Will their love with each other win or is it still their blood against their beating heart?

He undressed right in front of me, his whole body coming into view


“Am I to do all the work, beautiful?” he teased me.

“Brendon,” I panted.

Brendon grabbed my hands, placing them on his stomach and sliding them down, and I grew instantly wet between my legs.

Then he undressed right in front of me, his whole body coming into view, and his cock… Goddess! I had been taken that inside me. I must have. We were mates, and we had had sex, right? Why couldn’t I remember anything?


Celeste thought her life was perfect. Her pack was small, but she had the love of her life by her side, yet little by little her life starts to crumble. First, her alpha throws his attention on a new she-wolf, next her pack turns on her, and in the end, she looses her life. Yet never had she expected to be given a second chance, and who stands by her side? The last person she would ever ask for help: Her old childhood bully.

I closed my eyes and announced, "I am not Anna!"
He said calmly, "Well, I knew about it already."
My eyes flared open in shock, "How - How did you know?"
He looked deeply into my eyes and replied, "I met Anna at a ball but didn't feel anything. But when I saw you for the first time in the carriage, I felt the bond between us."
Sweat beads covered my forehead as I tried to process his words. Did it mean…?
The man knew what was going on in my head and replied, "Yes, you are right! You are my mate."
————————————————
Licia’s world collapsed when her father, the previous maniac Alpha King, was killed and then she lost her identity as a prince. Yes, a prince, not a princess! She was born a girl, but her mother sealed her identity and raised her like a boy.

Until the day, her father and mother died...she was not a big person anymore.
She turned into a nobody but finally lived like a girl.

While Licia’s life was not easy, she was forced to be a substitute bride for an Alpha’s daughter and marry Enrique Collins, Alpha of the Ravenwood pack, he is the current king's right-hand man, and he was known to be cool, powerful and ruthless.

But one thing Licia didn’t know is Alpha Enrique loves his wife more than anything.

Her daughter lay dying—her only chance at survival resting in a bone marrow transplant from her biological father.
That man, the one Stella Johnson had once loved with all her heart, was nowhere to be found.
While Stella made call after call, hands trembling with desperation, Charles Hart was busy building a crystal castle for the daughter of his beloved white moonlight—lighting up the entire city with fireworks in her honor.
All Stella got in return was a cold, clipped response:
"I'm busy."
And then… silence.
She waited.
And waited.
Until the warmth left her daughter's tiny hand.
He never came.
Cradling the small urn, Stella stepped into the streets—only to be greeted by a cruel spectacle.
Every digital screen on the bustling boulevard played the same scene:
Charles, his white moonlight, and their daughter, smiling under the fireworks as they sang "Happy Birthday," basking in a future built on someone else's grave.
The love Stella once held for Charles didn't just die that night—it was burned to ash.
And from those ashes, something far stronger rose:
Hatred. Cold. Sharp. Unforgiving.

I hate Beckett Hayes.
I hate his stupidly perfect face.
I hate the arrogant smirk that has sold millions of jerseys.
I hate that half of Chicago seems to worship the ground his skates touch.
But mostly? I hate what he did to my brother.
Eight years ago, Beckett Hayes destroyed my family. I haven't spoken to him since.
So naturally, on the first morning of my dream job with Chicago's hottest professional hockey team, I find him leaning against my office door.
Older. Bigger. Hotter. And wearing the same infuriating smile I remember.
My new job should have nothing to do with Beck. Until another one of the captain's scandals lands him in trouble and management decides I'm exactly the person he needs.
Now I'm traveling with him. Managing him. Arguing with him. Trying very hard not to notice what years of professional hockey have done to his body.
Then a photograph of us nearly kissing goes viral.
Suddenly everyone wants Beckett Hayes and Sloane Mercer together. The team. The sponsors. The fans. Everyone except me.
Because I know exactly who Beck is. At least, I thought I did.
But the closer I get to him, the more the story I've believed for eight years starts falling apart.
Beck didn't destroy my brother. He protected him.
And the man I've spent almost a decade hating? He's spent every one of those years wanting me.

She knelt in the pouring rain, pounding on my glass door, covered in mud, her voice hoarse from shouting. I stood inside, holding Lily's hand. She called my name, over and over, like calling a dead person. I lowered my head and said to Lily, "Come on, Daddy will take you to dinner." Then I turned and closed the door. From beginning to end, I didn't look at her once. Not because I still hated her. It was because she meant nothing to me anymore. And that woman didn't know—three years ago, when she threw me away like trash, I had already learned not to cling to trash.

The luxury cruise ship in the high seas had become a floating steel coffin for the beautiful CEO and me.
Just a door away, the corridor was teeming with slithering, tentacled Mimics. The wet, crunching sounds of them chewing on raw flesh were enough to make anyone’s scalp go numb.
Inside the pitch-black storage cabin—measuring barely three square meters—the usually aloof and untouchable Ice Queen of the corporate world was so terrified she had her flawless body pressed desperately against my chest.
In this extreme claustrophobia, her scalding body heat generated a fierce friction against me in the face of absolute despair.
"Keep me alive. Everything I have... is yours."

My ex and I used to live inside a romance movie.

She was the heroine’s best friend. I was the hero’s loyal sidekick. When the leads got their happy ending, we—the two “extras”—ended up together like an afterthought.

Then the credits rolled, and real life didn’t. The heroine died in a car crash, the hero fell apart, and my girlfriend chose that moment to leave me.

She said she was done being a supporting role. She wanted the spotlight—she wanted the heroine’s place.

I didn’t beg. I left the city alone and started over from nothing.

Five years later, I returned with my own company group—and ran into her again at a charity gala.

She still looked flawless, moving through the room of power and money, keeping up the image of success. She assumed I was still the same guy trailing behind someone else, and she spoke to me with that familiar, pitying superiority—offering to “help” me back into the circle.

Until the lights dimmed, and the host read my name with respectful clarity, inviting me to the stage.

That was when she realized the gala’s biggest sponsor was me—and the “sidekick” she thought she’d left behind was now someone she could never reach again.

His mouth left her mouth to her neck, which he kissed and sucked. He fiddled with her clothes, loosening it to free her chest. His mouth left her neck to her breasts where his tongue found her nipple, nibbling at it at first before sucking it.
Isabella  moaned, her hand squeezing his hair.
James bent down and devoured her breasts. Oh, how he’s been wanting to do this.
His dick was rock solid, almost tearing his pants. He wanted to devour Isabella  completely.


In a city that never sleeps, temptation lurks in the shadows…

When Isabella starts college, she envisions a life filled with new friendships, thrilling experiences, and a future with Alex, her devoted, loving boyfriend. Together, they share a bond built on trust and years of unwavering companionship. But beneath the surface of their perfect love, a quiet restlessness brews within her, a craving for something more… something dangerous.

Then she meets him.

Professor James is enigmatic, confident, and intoxicating, a man whose very presence sends a shiver down Isabella’s spine. What begins as a fleeting fascination soon ignites into an illicit affair, one that consumes her with a passion she never knew she was capable of feeling. With every stolen glance, every whispered secret, she spirals deeper into a forbidden world, where desire eclipses reason and every choice carries consequences.

Torn between the comforting love of Alex and the electrifying pull of James, Isabella teeters on the edge of ruin. But in a game where hearts and reputations are at stake, can she truly have it all… or will she lose everything?

“Strip...” I looked at him, not believing what he just said. “I said strip.” His voice held authority not to ignore his order. I started discarding my clothes one by one, shivering in fear. His gaze pierces my skin from head to toe, while disgust was loud and clear on his face. “You don't interest me anymore. Get out.”

Jonathan cheated death five years ago. Since then, he started seeing ghosts.

But he was a total scaredy-cat, and he couldn't stand the sight of them. And then, there

was this ghost who was obsessed with him. She said she needed help. But the

annoying ghost wants to take over his body! Too bad for him, there's no turning back

now. He already made a deal with the ghost.

What is fate? Waking up three days after you rejected your fated mates in front of the entire school, with the memories of your husband's betrayal still burning in your chest? Or finding out that the only way to save your empire is to compete for love on national television—against the man who murdered you?

Make your pick.

Odessa Montgomery died at thirty—cheated on, poisoned, and blown to pieces by the husband she trusted. Then she opened her eyes at twenty-one, three days after the mating gala where she publicly rejected the De Luca triplets. The rejection is still fresh. The whole school is still talking. And Damien Gracias, her charming hockey-star boyfriend, has no idea she remembers every lie he ever told her.

She dumps him. Publicly. Brutally. But freedom comes at a cost. Her grandfather's will is clear: find a mate or lose the Montgomery empire. With Damien out and the De Luca triplets—her humiliated fated mates—lurking in her past, her options are nothing.

Then comes Moonlit Bonds, a televised competition where unmated shifters compete for love and a life-changing prize. Win, and her inheritance is hers. Lose, and lose everything.

There's just one problem. Damien and his true mate, Sarah, have joined the show, hoping to legitimize their bond on camera. And the De Luca triplets are also contestants—three alphas she rejected, two who bullied her, and one who has never stopped watching.

Now Odessa is trapped in a villa with cameras in every corner, a public audience that votes on her fate, and enemies who want her dead.

She came to win.

She might just find revenge.

But falling for the enemy? That was never part of the plan.

In our third year of surviving the wasteland, my companions and I finally realized it was all a reality show.

The elites and billionaires on the outside had built a massive dome, tossing us into this irradiated hellhole to be tortured. They broadcasted it globally, watching us drink toxic wastewater and eat mutated meat, treating us like monkeys in a zoo.

The mole in our team knelt in the mud, sobbing, begging me to understand that it was all a script—that as long as I played along, I could live.

Without a second thought, I swung my blade. Right in front of ten million VIP viewers, I chopped off his leg.

"Crappy script," I sneered, kicking aside the severed limbs and blood on the floor. Gripping my machete, I walked toward the real world beyond the heavy gates.

To those who used our lives for entertainment: I'm coming for yours.

"I absolutely love your huge, thick cock, James. Just let me ride it tonight, and I'll pay you to be my secret whore," my wife's sister-in-law purred, climbing into my bed completely naked, her wet, dripping pussy grinding against my thigh.

I threw her naked body onto the floor like trash. For three years, I played the pathetic, submissive househusband to my arrogant wife, Emily. I endured their endless humiliation, hiding the fact that I was the billionaire heir and lethal ex-special forces agent keeping their pathetic family alive.

But today, the three-year contract hit zero.

When a rival mafia boss kicked down our door, threatening to massacre everyone, my wife's sister Rhea desperately ripped her dress open, exposing her heavy, bare breasts, begging the boss to fuck her raw right there on the floor if he spared her life.

I’d had enough.

I stepped forward, snapping the necks and shattering the bones of a dozen armed guards, leaving them choking on their own blood. As my fleet of twenty armored Rolls-Royces surrounded the villa, my true identity was finally revealed.

Seeing my unimaginable power, Rhea crawled to my feet, shoving her massive tits against my leg, begging to suck my cock and share my bed with my wife.

I slapped her across her slutty face, tore up the marriage contract, and walked out.

Behind me, Emily collapsed, sobbing hysterically. "If I had just spread my legs for him... if I had just let him breed me and fill my womb with his heir, I would be the queen of the world..."

She's begging for my seed now, but should I lock her in my basement and make her pay for the last three years?

At the company's annual client appreciation dinner, I was the one in charge of booking the venue.
To save the company money, I picked my aunt's upscale restaurant with a skyline view. Since we were family, she only charged us at cost. When I posted the details in our Slack channel to confirm with the team, no one had any objections—except for the intern, who slowly tagged me in the chat:
[Arthur, I don't mean anything by it.]
[I just want to ask—how big a kickback did you get for booking your family's restaurant?]
[After all, the money for this dinner is coming out of our bonus pool.]
[So you should return that money to the rest of us, right?]
The other coworkers started liking the message and chiming in to support him.
So I dropped the whole thing on the spot and handed the task over to that intern, who loved talking about "fixing workplace injustice."
Then the night of the dinner came.
From the CEO all the way down to the investors, everyone was pinned on the deck and searched by armed Coast Guard officers.
The most important client contact collapsed from a heart attack on the spot and was airlifted by helicopter straight to the ICU, costing the company a multimillion-dollar enterprise cybersecurity contract.

"Hey, Sasha, stay away from her! Don't you know? She is cursed!"
“Don’t you know to stay away from children? God knows what kind of evil you possess,”
"Don’t forget you are the cursed one."
The whispers started again, and I walked towards the forest with my strained smile.

These were the same whispers, the same words that I have been listening to since I grew up.
I don't know if people will ever treat me normally and not as an outcast or if I will always remain a monster in their eyes.

My name is Valerie Katya. I am the daughter of the beta of the pack.
Usually, any girl of my rank would've enjoyed all the luxuries, but things were different for me.
I was different from others, or should I say, they described me differently from themselves.

According to folks, I am cursed.

So the beta's daughter, who was supposed to live her life training and serving the pack, was now the biggest outcast. Though my sister enjoys all those benefits of being a beta's daughter. Everyone has high hopes for her, including me.

Beatrice is nothing like me. She is smart and beautiful. If she were born a human, I am sure she would've broken many hearts with her otherworldly appearance. She is like the dream girl of most boys here.
It’s funny how we belong to the same family and bloodline but have different destinies.

On my 18th birthday, I found my mate, but he rejected me and slept with our sister.

Ambrose Kendrick came into my life when I was disappointed in everything. He is the strongest wolf in the world leading the strongest and biggest pack in the world. According to rumors, He is lethal, scary, heartless and void of any emotions.

Book 1
Amethyst prayed for her childhood best friend to be her mate. Everyone stares, they tease, they bully her for being an orphan but Mason was different. He protected her, he defended her. The Alpha's son loved her since they were pups.
But you can't be kids forever. Everything turned sour when Mason began training to take over the Stone Heart Pack. He turned on her just like everyone else, Mason made her the target of his ruthless antics and when they turned of age - it got worse.
Mason doesn't want an orphan for a mate. She has no power, no status and he wants someone with wealth to carry the Luna title.
Amethyst isn't it.
Everything crashes down, the humiliation and rejection too much to bare, turning Rogue was her only option. She couldn't submit any longer to the torture and living in the woods for a couple years before death seemed less painful.
Until a man arrives.
Claiming that Amethyst isn't an orphan.
That she belongs to one of the five founding families.
Amethyst thought that rejection was where her life ended.
Wait till she finds out that it's only the beginning and neither her heart or life are safe.


Book 2
Maverick's past is a secret for a reason, there are rumors spread that he made deals with ancient witches to get the power every member longs for.
But it's just a rumor....or is it?
There is a reason why his mind and heart are always at war because if he claims Sage as his, hell would rip her from this earth. The best option is to stay away from her, to not have contact with her.
What can he do when she shows up at his territory? Desperate to escape her grief.
The problem is, Maverick made promises and with Sage in the picture - he can't keep them.
There is a reason why Maverick is the Forbidden Alpha.. and Sage is about to find out what being a Fated Mate truly means.


Book 3
Jasmine Ravenstone gave up everything for a man who couldn't speak.
Renouncing her Alpha title and fleeing with Kyson Zero, she has no idea of the past he carries or the Fated Mate curse she will endure.
Being born from the first witch in existence, Kyson and Kier had to go through lifetimes to kill their father and never succeeded in their destiny. Now, the seal has been broken and they are down to their last life. If they don't kill their father then the supernatural world will cease to exist.
Kyson didn't realize the ramifications of his actions. Stealing a Fated comes with consequences, a sirebond that ties Jasmine to him.
He didn't expect a curse that will cause damnation.


Book 4
Kier Zero returns to his life as Alpha, after ultimately killing his first tormentor. But that was only his first demon, there is a second one that haunts him.
Marked by Olivia Aspen, he wants as much distance away from her as possible.
Until she arrives, with a mysterious power that everyone seems to want and a debt to a deadly vampire. She has no one to consult, stranded and lost in a world without a pack or home.
Olivia chooses to repay her debt, but that comes with strings attached when the charming vampire has more to offer than she ever could have imagined.

In the year 2333, humanity has fallen and ruled by werewolves. Bellatrix Sinclair, an 18-year-old weapons prodigy that despises werewolves for destroying her family has been secretly planning to join the human rebellion.
However, she is forced into the Mate Selection Process and matched with Lazarus De Loughrey, the ruthless Werewolf King obsessed with claiming her.
He shouldn't want her and she should hate him but they cannot resist each other. It's a twisted connection, entirely physical because all I am is his slave.
My heart should belong to my best friend Emmett, a human. Atleast the guilt of betrayal wouldn't be eating away at my insides.


“Yes please.” She begs.
“Then fucking let me in.” I growled, this fury exploding with vengeance. I wanted to destroy her pussy.
It was maddening, it was sickening, it was barbaric.
But I never claimed to be saint.
“Here that baby, that’s the sound of your greedy pussy sucking on my cock. Give me more, drench me.”
“Lazarus.” She moans painfully, “Please let me come.”
I’m doused in gasoline and set alight, sweat coats my skin as I pound into her faster and harder. I’m definitely hurting her, “Wanna come?” I rasped, “Not until I say so.”
Pressing my lips onto hers, pushing my tongue into her mouth until I feel the sweetness of hers. The kiss is sloppy and filthy. She cries as I drive my cock into her, the intensity too much to handle, sweet tears sliding onto her cheeks.
“Fuck yes.” I smile sadistically, licking her tears. “Cry for me Ma Cherie.”
“Please, please let me come My King.” She pleads.
“Say it again.” Lightening shooting down my spine as she begged, “My King, please let me come. I’ll be good.”
I chuckled, “Try your luck to kill me Ma Cherie, I dare you.”

"Are you afraid of me?" He said, dropping his hand from my arm and wrapping it around my waist.

"I-I d-don't, I-I c-can't." I struggled to speak but I couldn't get any words out.

He let go of me and raked his hand through his hair.

"What is it about you?" He asked and grazed my cheeks with his fingers lightly. "Sorry birdie but I can't stop myself anymore. I'm going to kiss you now.”


Emily Chesterfield is a shy and innocent nerd. Her life changes drastically when she begins her junior year. She attracts the attention of the school's bad boy and billionaire's son, Ace Hilton. However, that is not all as she also attracts the attention of a criminal syndicate. What happens when she falls for the bad boy who is trying to keep her safe from the criminal syndicate?

"Legs, clamped so tight?"
In the darkness, the man's scorching body pressed against me like a branding iron, his biting kisses forcing my teeth apart, his cock grinding and thrusting into the deepest part of me.
I couldn’t catch my breath, murmuring softly, "Slow down… I can’t take it anymore."
But he acted as if he hadn’t heard, gripping my tense hips and thrusting upward like a madman.
Amid the sticky, wet sounds, the rhythm of flesh colliding grew faster and more urgent…

After the Smith family fell into debt, Scarlett became Richard Gray’s fiancée, only to unexpectedly have a one-night stand with his nephew, Alexander. Their tangled relationships turned her into a pawn in their power struggle. But Scarlett’s true identity was far more complex than it seemed. When she eventually took the head position in the Gray family while pregnant, Alexander, with bloodshot eyes and a smile that stretched to breaking point, asked: "So this was your purpose all along?" Scarlett smiled, taking his hand and pressing it to her abdomen, saying, "Be good. From now on, the game is mine to control!"
Updates in progress, 8 chapters released daily

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

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

But the history books lied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But one question haunts the entire pack:

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

"We must stop!" She breathed out and removed her wrists from his hold. She straightened her dress and began to walk away.
"How long do you think you'll be able to run away from me? I'll catch up to you eventually." He replied.

There was an ominous demonic glare in her angelic eyes. They said she was nothing but the darkness, a living embodiment of terror. She was the assassin, roaming across centuries, killing and hiding. She had known blood and death her entire life, but what she didn't know was that the biggest battle awaited her, one with her soul and her mate.

Lycan Prince Aiden, heir to the Kingdom of Werewolves, the fated Alpha King. Everything would change after he found her, his moon-blessed Luna. Would he be ready for the storm and darkness brought along with her? Meant to bend himself to her will and desires, both of their fates will be twisted into unexpected accord.

"Onyx, remove your hand. If you continue to touch, you will lose." He chuckled as she exhaled "The condition was to not give in and fuck, Ophelia. I'm merely touching!"
As his fingers returned to their former position, she forced herself to relax. She cursed herself in her head for setting the bar at fuck.
When his fingers worked circles around her clit, she nearly died on the spot. As the moist fabric glided over her sensitive area, her release became more urgent, and she regulated her breathing as he quickened his speed.

His gaze never left hers, as he watched the ecstasy wash over her face, she was growing desperate for release at this point and could just beg. "You simply have to ask, Ophelia, and I'll give you the release you want!" As her name flowed off his tongue, she shivered. "No!" Her voice was clipped, strained even. "Are you certain? Imagine how splendid it would feel when you cum all over my finger here under this table and when I fill your pussy after dinner. Raw and hard, just how you like it."

Onyx Reighs is perhaps one of the finest Chief executives in town. He was respected by his subordinates and desired by females since he possessed every excellent precision a man should have as a leader. But by the end of the night, he was the most notorious player. To him, the purpose of life was to work hard and enjoy life to the fullest. No woman could ever resist his enchantments, and he hadn't expected to know the word "rejected" until she came to fly his bird. What will happened when the lady who rejected him turned out to be his soulmate?

"What do you want? Ask me." I whisper against her cheek, kissing the warm skin there. I feel my cock pushing through my pants with wild desire, my body begging, pleading, but I take a deep breath, controlling myself.

"I want you to take me somewhere..."

"What else?" I feel her soft hands slide down my arms to my wrists, she moans softly and I restrain myself at the surreptitious way she's giving herself away.

"I don't want you to stop touching me like this, I want you to feel it and praise me for being so wet right now."

At the age of 22, Dakota's life had already gone through so many ups and downs that she took a drastic step that cost her family and her dreams. Now in New York, sharing an apartment with her best friend, she finds the remnants of her anguish still alive. Thoughts of uncertainty and the feeling that she is missing out on her best period torment her every night.

On one of these nights, fate gives her a hot experience with a mysterious, much older man who will not leave Dakota's thoughts for a long time... The future is a mystery, but her new job in a multinational company will manage to shake up her life with new responsibilities and a new pair of blue eyes. Dakota thinks it would be a good idea to dive into them, after all, the man behind the black hair and tall stature is popular, a good and communicative company. Still, the man doesn't seem to be enough, he lacks his father's gray eyes, mystery, seriousness and maturity. Doubt is immoral, her feelings are too dangerous. Perhaps Dakota's biggest mistake is to hold on to something her heart and body are pushing her so hard to do. Maybe she is different because she is truly sure of what she wants, contrary to what she believes. Could they keep her most secret desires at bay?

All my life, whenever I wished for something, my younger stepsister got twice as much. One doll for me meant two for Chloe. One bedroom meant she got a bigger room plus a study. Even my own mother seemed to love her twice as much.   Then a strange interface appeared on my phone and confirmed the rule.   So I stopped wishing for good things.   I wished for a twenty-six-year-old boyfriend. Chloe got a fifty-two-year-old stranger at our front door. I wished to lose ten pounds. She dropped twenty so fast she landed in the ICU. When my stepfather begged me to stop, I made one more wish.   I wished to lose six hours of sleep every night.   And Chloe got double.

The moment Alexander lost his memory, I chose to lie: "I'm your girlfriend."

I maintained that lie for seven whole years.

For seven years, I lived like a shadow by his side, watching the disgust in his eyes after his memory returned, enduring every humiliation he gave me for Charlotte's sake. Until I held our dead child and swallowed that bottle of sleeping pills.

When I was reborn and opened my eyes, facing the same amnesiac Alexander, this time I said: "I'm just your friend."

Then I turned around and married his brother Daniel.

When Alexander knelt in the rain crying and begging for my forgiveness, when he desperately rescued Daniel from the rubble, when he was finally found breathless in his room— I no longer wanted to look back.

When I was injured and hospitalized, my husband, Adrian Hale, was still giving me the silent treatment over his ex-girlfriend.
 
During our worst fight, he told me, "If Vanessa and I wanted to be together, you never would have become Mrs. Hale."
 
After that, I became the kind of wife he'd always claimed to want. I stopped asking questions. I stopped checking when he would be home. I stopped arguing when Vanessa called.
 
Yet, that was when Adrian began reporting every detail of his day, avoiding Vanessa, and trying to come home early. On my birthday, he canceled a trip to Europe and flew back overnight to surprise me.
 
I should have been moved.
 
Instead, I hid in the kitchen and whispered to my best friend, "We're getting divorced. Why is he going to all this trouble?"
 
She laughed. "Adrian Hale is rich, gorgeous, and finally acting like a husband. Are you sure you won't regret leaving him?"
 
I thought about it.
 
"No," I said. "I think I'll finally be able to breathe."
 
Something dropped to the floor behind me.
 
I turned. Adrian was standing in the doorway, looking completely ashen.

Beneath the sprawling oaks of Bramblewood University, my parents hovered like proud paparazzi. In the center of their screens stood Liora, my childhood best friend, and Kael—my boyfriend of four years.

They stood pressed together, Liora's blonde curls brushing Kael's jawline. My parents shouted directions with absolute adoration. You'd think she was their flesh and blood, or the one wearing his promise ring.

I waited in the periphery for twenty minutes. Just one photo. That was all I asked. But my mother's eyes never left her glowing screen, completely blind to her real daughter suffocating in the shadows.

"I still haven't heard back from any firms," Liora sighed, slipping into a practiced pout.

Kael's focus instantly snapped to her. "Hey, don't stress. You can always work at my agency. I'll make sure you're taken care of."

"Send me your resume tonight, Leo," my dad chimed in eagerly. "Your first job sets the tone for your career. You absolutely cannot settle."

Before I could speak, my older brother, Joren, jogged across the lawn. He breezed right past me, zeroing in on Liora. "Don't panic about the job hunt," he promised. "My department is expanding next week. I'll personally fast-track your application to the top."

I was always a clingy girlfriend, something my online boyfriend seemed to eat right up. That is, until my brother's birthday dinner. I noticed his pretty-boy roommate's phone lit up the exact second I sent a text.

My brother chuckled. "She's been texting you non-stop all night. Doesn't it annoy you?"

The roommate barely looked at his screen. "Annoying," he muttered.

My thumbs froze over the keyboard.

I got dragged online by one of my lead devs.

He claimed my "Incubation Project" was a gilded cage—a trap to exploit the team and steal their personal IPs.

The truth?

I funded it out of my own pocket.

Selected candidates would get a $50,000 no-strings-attached seed fund, plus full Ivy League tuition reimbursement. It was 100% voluntary, with zero penalties for opting out.

Since the internet decided I was a toxic capitalist monopolizing their creativity, I gave him exactly what he wanted. I fired off a company-wide memo:

[To protect your creative freedom from capitalist exploitation, the $50,000 Incubation Fund is permanently abolished, effective immediately.]

[As an alternative, the monthly education allowance for all employees is now a $15 reimbursement for basic coding courses.]

The moment the memo dropped, the employees who were counting on that $50k to pay off student loans or change their lives completely lost it.

Now, they're swarming right outside my glass office door, eyes red, begging me to reinstate the program.

I was born with the purest Moon Goddess bloodline, destined to be the most revered princess of the Crescent Moon Pack.
 
Yet, in my past life, every drop of my wolf essence was drained from my veins while I was still breathing.
 
Right before I died, my father's adoptive sister, Ella, stood over me. Her smile was as sickeningly sweet as poison.
 
"Years ago, I swapped you for a stillborn with your dear mother, Valerie. Watching the high and mighty Luna cling to that dead baby, watching her slowly devolve into a raving lunatic until she had to surrender her throne to me like a pathetic dog... it was the best trade I ever made."
 
Taking advantage of my mother's shattered mind and the pack's growing disgust, Ella had effortlessly usurped the throne of the Luna.
 
By siphoning the power of my bloodline day after day, she purged the inherent weakness of her Omega genes and basked in the reverence of the entire pack.
 
Yet, after stealing all the glory, she bribed the pack's healer to declare my bloodline corrupted. She branded me a cursed beast, a harbinger of doom for the pack.
 
Chained to the walls of a damp, pitch-black dungeon, I was bled dry.
 
I closed my eyes with a heart full of blinding hatred. But when they snapped open again, the overwhelming stench of raw blood and amniotic fluid flooded my senses.

As the New Year's Eve bells were about to toll, my fiancé, Tristan, slid an annulment agreement in front of me.
 
"Blair's New Year's wish is to experience an engagement. Just play along. After tonight, we'll reinstate our engagement."
 
Wearing my custom engagement gown, Blair looked at me with red-rimmed eyes and a pout.
 
"Sienna, if you really mind, let's just forget it. With my failing health, who knows if I'll even live to see next year..."
 
Tristan immediately grasped her hand with heartache, then turned to glare at me. "Could you stop being so selfish for once?"
 
Throughout our three-year relationship, I had compromised time and time again, all because of his favorite excuse: "She's been sickly since childhood. As her childhood friend, I promised to grant her one New Year's wish every year."
 
My fingers brushed against the ultrasound photo in my pocket—the pregnancy confirmation I hadn't yet had the chance to show him. Looking at the face of the man I had loved for three years, I felt like an absolute joke.
 
"Fine, you both have my blessing."
 
I took the pen and signed my name without a hint of hesitation.
 
The stolen dress, along with my fiancé—I didn't want either of them anymore.

I died on my 28th birthday.

My family was throwing a birthday party for my sister Stella—yes, we share the same birthday, but in this house, only hers was worth celebrating.

My corpse was slowly rotting in the storage room while laughter and birthday songs echoed from the living room. They thought I was just "throwing another tantrum," completely unaware of the torment I had endured before dying.

The irony was crushing: I had spent five years ghostwriting musical compositions for her, making her the "genius composer" everyone adored. Meanwhile, I—the real creator—was dismissed as nothing more than a jealous older sister.

By the time they finally discovered my body, guided by the stench of decay, it was far too late.

But death was only the beginning of my revenge.

Every single person who had hurt me would pay the price.

Including those I loved most.

When I was reborn, and my Alpha husband's ward clamped a muzzle around my neck as a joke...
I didn't shift into my wolf and tear her arm off like in my past life.
I ripped off the bloody muzzle and gave Roman a smile.
"If you think this is a joke, keep indulging her."
And I walked away without looking back.
Because my death in my previous life was too miserable.
After our fallout, Roman used his Alpha authority to freeze my accounts overnight.
Exiled, I was diagnosed with terminal silver poisoning.
Dying in agony, I swallowed my pride and crawled back to the Pack gates.
But he let Chloe force me to my knees and refused to open the doors.
In the end, my wolf spirit shattered, and I froze to death.
I only understand after dying: love and dignity are worthless.
Survival and money are all that matter.

When I opened my eyes once more and beheld the familiar glint of scheming in my sister's gaze, I knew—she had also been reborn.

In my past life, she shattered the souls of my child and me with a forbidden moonlight ritual, driven solely by envy of my perfect partner and healthy heir. In my dying moments, I saw no remorse in her eyes, only a twisted satisfaction.

In this life, she still seeks to seize everything from me—my fiancé, my child.

This time, I have chosen the one whom everyone scorns as the "exile."

They call him a monster, curse him, and claim that any woman who unites with him will bear only deformed beasts.

What they fail to comprehend is that as I lay on the brink of death, it was he whose golden eyes reflected the anguish of despair. What they know even less is the secret I harbor—one that even I scarcely believe.

My dear sister, do you desire the perfect heir? Do you yearn for supreme power?

Come, then.

Let us see how long your hypocritical facade can endure when the blood moon rises again, and all discover the true "monster."

Seven years ago, the yacht explosion I suggested took the lives of my husband and my best friend.   That same day, my premature baby's heart stopped beating in the incubator.   For seven years, I locked myself in a hell of guilt and self-destruction, attempting to end my life hundreds of times.   Until today. In the hospital, I ran into my "dead" husband gently protecting my best friend, holding a seven-year-old boy in his arms.   They weren't just alive; they had become a happy family of three.   More absurdly, my parents were standing right beside them, their faces full of affection.   It turned out that hell wasn't the afterlife. It was the world I was living in right now.

As the Guardian of the Sylvan Enclave's Sacred Vein, the centennial Fading Period was the one time I was utterly defenseless.

Yet, on this exact day, the four High Lord brothers I had protected for centuries decided to harvest my Vein—all because our adopted human sister whined about wanting to become an elf instantly.

Without the Vein, the Enclave would wither.

In my past life, I desperately fought them off. I begged them to reconsider, promising to manually infuse her with my magic to sustain her life.

They backed down, but Cassianne's greed didn't. She sneaked into the Forbidden forest seeking a shortcut to power and was devoured by beasts.

When news of her death hit, my brothers lost their minds.

They smashed my sanctuary and physically tore open my chest.

"If you hadn't been so selfish, hoarding your Vein, she wouldn't have been so desperate! Rot in hell, you monster!"

Blinded by rage, they shattered my limbs and hollowed me out, leaving me to suffocate in my own pooling blood.

Opening my eyes again, I realized I had been reborn.

This time, I decided to give them exactly what they wanted.

I accompanied my husband's grandmother, who had just undergone heart bypass surgery, to quietly recuperate on the top floor of a private club. However, we were invaded by a woman adorned in the ruby necklace I designed, wielding my husband's supplementary card. She publicly humiliated my grandmother and locked us in a freezing cold chamber at minus sixty degrees, declaring herself to be my husband's fiancée. In a desperate attempt to save my grandmother, I publicly slandered myself, but she then reneged on her words—just as the sound of my husband's footsteps echoed from the doorway…

I was but eighteen when I found myself captivated by my best friend’s brother.

At twenty-one, I mustered the courage to confess my feelings. He welcomed me into his bed but never once into his heart.

For three long years, I reassured myself: "Just a little while longer. He will see me in due time."

Then Stella returned—the girl he had always yearned for, even while his hands roamed my body in the shadows.

He greeted her return with champagne and candlelight, and then, locking his gaze upon me amidst a gathering, he coldly declared:

"You crawled into my bed and offered yourself. Don't you see how cheap and pitiable you appear?"

I raised my eyes, meeting his once more.

"I shall no longer trouble you."

I retrieved my phone, navigated to a contact I had seldom engaged—my betrothed by arrangement—and typed: "I consent to the marriage."

I have been engaged to my fiancé nine times, and each time, he has abandoned me on the wedding day for my sister.

The first time, I knelt in the church, pleading with him not to leave, while he gently cradled my sister, not even affording me a glance.

By the ninth time, as he once again postponed the wedding for her sake, I no longer cried or protested. Instead, I calmly removed my veil and said, "You may go; the wedding is canceled."

He believed this was merely a ploy of mine, filled with confidence as he promised, "Once Emma is better, we'll reschedule the ceremony."

Little did he know that the departure date on my plane ticket coincided with our wedding day. As he frantically searched for me, I had already become the fiancée of his worst enemy.

This time, even if he were to kneel and beg at my doorstep, I would never look back.

On the eve of the violin competition, I was dragged into the basement and tormented for three excruciating hours, my hands shattered by iron rods, rendering me incapable of ever playing again.

As I lay in the hospital awaiting emergency care, I discovered the truth: it was my own father who had hired the assassins to ruin me; it was my fiancé who deliberately delayed my surgery, aiming to leave me permanently disabled; and ultimately, it was my pampered sister, cherished by the entire family, who had set fire to gasoline with the intent to burn me alive.

Fifteen years ago, a sorcerer had proclaimed that my sister was the 'blessing' of the Winslow family, while I, through my very existence, was deemed a 'curse' that needed to be eradicated.

Due to this absurd prophecy, I became the target of my family's ambition to be rid of me.

They wished for my demise, yet I am determined to survive — to witness them pay the price for their choices today.

A madman attacked the concert hall. I threw myself over my son, taking every blow meant for him. My spine shattered in three places.

My husband Arthur subdued the attacker and rushed us to the hospital—the picture of a devoted, loving spouse.

It was only after hearing his conversation with the doctor that I finally saw his true colors.

My crippling injury was merely collateral damage. My son Ethan? Nothing but a living cornea donor for Mia—the cherished daughter he had with his first love.

He treated my child like spare parts, never knowing Mia isn't even his blood.

In this house, there was an unspoken rule: every time my adopted sister, Sloane, fed her gambling addiction at the casino, I was the one who had to take the punishment.

When Sloane racked up five thousand dollars in gambling debt, I was locked inside a sub-zero freezer overnight.

When Sloane stole and sold the family jewelry, my parents pinned my shoulders down while my husband ruined my face with a red-hot branding iron.

They claimed that only by seeing me suffer would Sloane feel guilty enough to finally quit gambling.

Until, in a desperate attempt to teach Sloane one final lesson, they hired someone to stage a fake mobster debt collection.

What they didn't know was that the prop gun bought off the black market was loaded with a real bullet.

And as the bullet ripped through my heart, my husband simply kicked my twitching body, laughing as he complimented how realistic my blood pack looked.

Warm blood clogged my windpipe. I lay paralyzed on the floor, my consciousness fading away.

This time, the chip wagered on Sloane's behalf was my life.

On our fifth anniversary, my Mafia Don husband kissed my cheek, then switched to Corsican to tell our adopted daughter how much he enjoyed getting her pregnant piece by piece.

He didn't know I spoke seven languages. Corsican included.

He didn't know that in three days, I would vanish — no body, no trail, no goodbye.

When I disappeared, he lost his mind.

Now it was my turn to teach him what losing someone really meant.

I had given my whole heart to my boyfriend Tristan, yet during a game of Truth or Dare at the party, when he lost, he kissed his childhood sweetheart Celeste without the slightest hesitation. When I confronted him in utter devastation, he merely regarded me with impatience, urging me not to be such a poor sport. At that moment, Tristan's perpetually silent twin brother suddenly stepped forward, seized the 'passionate kiss' dare card from the table, fixed his gaze intently upon my lips, and tilting his head with an air of innocent inquiry, asked: "Sister-in-law, if he can play, are you able to play as well?"

I knelt on the ground as my husband forcefully pried my fingers from his clothing, coldly uttering the words: "Get rid of this child."

This was my third child, a flesh and blood connection to him, yet for the sake of the white moonlight in a wheelchair, he plunged me into the depths of hell.

My in-laws remained indifferent, my husband betrayed me, and even my own parents cried out, “This child cannot be kept.”

I could not comprehend why a stranger confined to a wheelchair could dictate the fate of my child with a single phrase. Why did she, each time she entered that church, seal my child's fate?

It was not until the day she perished in a self-immolation within the church that I stepped inside and truly understood. Her confession, my loss, our collective suffering—all were intricately woven into a carefully orchestrated scheme spanning over a decade.

To please his mistress, Callum ordered me—pregnant—to dance barefoot in the black salt ice cellar.

When I stumbled back to the doorway to warm myself, the mistress covered her mouth and retched.

"I'm pregnant. I can't stand this death-stench of winter."

Only because I was a princess of the Winter Realm, born carrying frost in my veins.

Callum flew into a rage and had me locked inside a frost-crystal cage, sunk to the bottom of the ice well. No one was allowed to release me without his command.

"A princess of winter, afraid of the cold? What a joke!"

No matter how I struggled or begged, he couldn't have cared less. He and his mistress treated it as entertainment. And just like that, I froze to death at the bottom of that well.

What he didn't know was that although we winter-born are forged in bitter cold, when we carry a child, every drop of magic goes to protecting the baby. We have no defense left for ourselves. The very ice that shaped us becomes the thing that kills us.

Two days later, he was finally satisfied and ordered them to pull me up.

But I could never come back up again.