2312 Book(s) Related to i am not ok with this graphic novel

They said a perfect luna should be gentle, obedient, and tolerant of everything.
My husband, Alpha Cedric Blackwood, said that as his luna, I had to be virtuous and generous, and I had to take good care of his "little woloves."
If anyone was led astray, it meant I, as luna, had failed to set a proper example, and I had to be punished in their place.
And so, when his adopted sister, newly graduated from Crescent Moon Academy, ran off to party at a bar and stayed out all night, I was ordered to wash clothes for the entire pack in the bitter winter cold until my hands were covered in frostbite.
When his little lover chased thrills and went alone to the border, drawing rogues to her, I was punished for poor discipline with ninety-nine lashes from a silver whip, beaten so badly that my wolf fell into a deep sleep.
When the two of them grew bored with life, went traveling together, and even stole my unlimited black card, they had barely left before their wild spending drew the attention of an enemy pack and got them kidnapped.
The news that Cedric had spent fifty million to ransom the two women was exposed, turning the Blackwood family into a laughingstock across the werewolf world.
The elders were furious and demanded that the matter be dealt with severely.
Cedric's face darkened. Then he turned around and ordered someone to tie me up.
"You knew they were young, naive, and easy to deceive, yet you deliberately gave them the black card. Weren't you trying to attract the enemy pack's attention so they would get rid of the thorns in your side?"
"A vicious, jealous she-wolf like you deserves to taste what it feels like to be kidnapped and tortured!"
But he did not know that on the first night after I was taken away, I was tortured to death.

My name is Evelyn Blackwood. I am the only daughter of the Blackwood Pack and my mother Margaret's sole chosen heir.
The territory of Greyhaven, the family assets, and those deeply rooted ancient alliances—they would all fall onto my shoulders sooner or later.
To secure my future reign and shut the greedy mouths of our branch families, my mother brought back three boys from a rogue shelter.
She spent a fortune grooming them, all for the singular purpose of picking the strongest among them to be my future mate.
She even declared publicly at the pack gathering that as long as I nodded, whoever I chose would co-inherit everything in the Blackwood name.
But to Damien, Lucas, and Julian, those words sounded like a death sentence.
On the surface, they were obedient and respectful. Behind my back, they despised my unyielding nature. To them, I was a drawn blade, nothing like the submissive Luna they fantasized about.
The most absurd part? These three men, who had reaped endless benefits from my family, had unanimously fallen for a fragile Omega named Cecilia Ward.
"Don't think your Blackwood money can force us to marry you."
"The only one fit to be our mate is Cecilia."
"A cold-blooded, ruthless woman like you? You are nothing compared to her."
Those words were like silver chains lined with barbs, wrapping tightly around my heart.

The agony of dragonfire tearing through my flesh still seared my memory.
But I had been reborn.
I touched my reflection. No scorch marks. No melted skin. My eighteen-year-old face stared back.
The door burst open. Zephyra swept in, her dragonfire pendant gleaming.
"Megan, don't be nervous." Her voice dripped honey-sweet. "Even if you can't sense dragonfire, the Dragon God won't judge you harshly."
My father's legitimate daughter. Pure dragonblood. The family's pride.
And me? The bastard. A half-blood who couldn't even conjure a spark.
"The prophecy bond isn't set in stone." Her hand landed on my shoulder, grip too tight. "If Lord Roran feels overwhelming, bond with a lower-tier knight. I'll support whatever you choose."
Support me? The word tasted like ash.
Roran was the empire's youngest Dragon Knight Commander. In my past life, I'd believed her lies and married him.
I thought it was salvation. Instead, I became his shield while he slept with Zephyra.
At Zephyra's ascension ceremony, when a wyvern lunged for her, he shoved me into the beast's path.
The wyvern's claws tore into my abdomen. My unborn child died inside me.
Then came the dragonfire.
Roran unleashed it to save Zephyra. The flames swallowed everything: the beast, me, and the dragon egg I'd carried for months.
Through the agony, I watched him scoop Zephyra up. "Save Zephyra! The child—"
My child was already ash. He mourned hers.
"If I hadn't been pregnant, Megan wouldn't be so jealous..." Zephyra whispered.
"If there's a next life, I'll make this right." Roran's hollow guilt.
Next life?
Your dragonfire burned my child alive. You let me bleed out. And now you want redemption?
Not a chance.

On my birthday, my fiancé pushed me off a yacht to make another woman laugh.
Miles Hart was Boston's most notorious heir. I had loved him for three years. I had said yes when he proposed.
I nearly drowned as a child. And he knew I was terrified of deep water. I had told him I didn't want a birthday party at sea — he talked me into it anyway.
I had trusted him enough to step aboard. Even when I saw Lila Crossamong our friends, I told myself it was just Miles being Miles.
It never once crossed my mind that he would hurt me.
The push came without warning. One moment he was beside me; the next, the deck tilted and the water closed over my head.
I surfaced once, choking, and saw Lila at the rail in her white dress.
She covered her mouth, but I could see her smile. Miles laughed beside her.
"Nora! Come on," he called. "Lila's had her fun. You can stop pretending now."
I tried to tell him I couldn't swim. Water filled my mouth instead. I kicked toward the yacht, but it drifted farther away.
"Miles, I think she's really drowning!" someone shouted.
A life ring hit the water beyond my reach. Then the hull and the faces at the rail disappeared.
I remember hands hauling me over the rail, someone pressing on my chest, seawater in my throat, and then nothing.
I woke in a hospital bed with a pounding headache. The room smelled of disinfectant. Miles hurried to me and took my hand.
"Nora. Thank God. I thought you weren't going to wake up."
I pulled my hand free and stared at him.
"Who are you?"

Lysa loved Damian for seven years, yet hypnotic manipulation warped his memories, leading him to brand her the killer of his parents. With his own hands, he cut her bones and implanted canine fur, transforming her into a deformed half-human beast and subjecting her to endless humiliation and torture. She watched her mother die a brutal death and was forced to swallow her mother’s cremated ashes. At the brink of death, her ancestral sea spirit pendant awakened, shedding her mangled hound form to birth a tyrannical deep-sea siren. Once the scheming fake heroine’s lies were laid bare, Damian descended into madness, drowning in desperate remorse. Wielding the immortal power of a siren, Lysa cast all her tormentors into an endless living hell—and she would never grant them forgiveness.

Ethan and I grew up together. We were supposed to exchange rings at the altar, make our vows. But on our wedding day, he left me standing there to go save his so-called suicidal ex. Almost killed my parents from the shame.

Four years later, I'm back in Portland with my husband. The city isn't that big, and of course fate decides to throw him in my path again.

He has the nerve to ask me to be his mistress.

I hold up my left hand, the ring catching the light. "Are you blind?"

I was once the adopted son of Eric Miller, the Don of the Miller Family.
My future was supposed to be simple—loyal to the Don, respected by the Family, destined to inherit power.
But I carried a secret that turned me into a freak in his eyes.
A forbidden love.
When Eric found the diary where I had hidden my feelings for him, I cried and apologized again and again.
It didn’t matter. The disgust in his eyes never changed.
He sent me away—exiled to a remote country under the watch of his men.
From there, I heard the news of his wedding.
I saw the way he looked at Julia—soft, full of love. And in a moment of madness, I spent every last dollar I had and flew to Thailand for gender reassignment surgery.
Nights after the surgery were filled with pain from the silicone implants pressing against my skin.
But even after becoming a woman, I still couldn't win Eric’s love.
Just when I finally let him go, he suddenly bought me a ticket back to America.
He said he wanted me to attend his fifth wedding anniversary with Julia.
And when he saw Lily in my arms, he froze.
“Your daughter?”

I was dying. To buy myself just a few more days, I had no choice but to sell my body for medicine money.
I never expected the man who bought me was Michael. My ex-husband.
He threw the cash in my face, humiliated me, forced me through every degradation he could think of.
All because he hated me for leaving when he was critically ill.
What he never knew was that, the heart beating in his chest…
Was mine.

Rumored to be a bloodthirsty monster, the Dark Moon Alpha terrified my twin sister into fleeing their arranged marriage to elope with a rogue.

In my past life, my parents forced me to take her place.

Instead of dying, I ended up in the Alpha's castle, showered in the pack's unimaginable wealth.

Starving on the run, my jealous sister conspired with our parents.

They drained my wolf bloodline and burned me alive in a pure silver mine, just so she could steal my face and the Alpha's favor.

Opening my eyes, I found myself back on the night of her escape.

Instead of begging, I willingly grabbed the wedding dress.

"Elope in peace, sister. I'll marry the monster for you."

She thought she was handing me a death sentence.

But she had no idea... the obsessive love of a top-tier Alpha, and the supreme throne of the Luna...

This time, they will all be mine!

I burn through eighty years of my life raising three dogs that turn around and tear into me.

My vampire husband, Damian, used to be an outcast covered in festering sores, cursed to fear the sun. I cut my wrist and gave up thirty years of my life so he could become the most powerful man among the bloodlines, in control of half the world's wealth. Cold and ruthless to everyone else, he only ever bares his fangs for me.

Knox, the werewolf boy I grew up with, was born with a genetic flaw that kept him from ever shifting. I gave up another twenty years so he could have the strongest bloodline of all. Wild and reckless, he used to swear he'd carry me on his back for the rest of his life.

Julian, my human brother, got burned beyond recognition saving me from a fire. I spent my last thirty years giving him back a face people would pay a fortune for. He used to send crates of his paintings to my room, the kind of work people would kill to own.

Then a woman named Daphne shows up, and all three of them lose their minds over her.

And somehow I become the jealous, vicious wife everyone wants gone.

She cries that I pushed her, so they drive blades of blood straight through my bones.

She says I'm cruel to the staff, so they break my legs in front of a crowd.

And when I'm dying, they drain my blood to keep her alive.

If you're all going to treat the life I gave you like trash, then I'm taking it back. The strength, the face, the life. All of it.

[God, I take it back. I want everything I gave them returned to me.]

When the screen lit up, my heart stopped beating.
The woman twisting on the bed, breathless and flushed, was Rachel. The innocent girl we grew up with. The adopted sister I had fiercely loved and protected for over a decade.

And the hands claiming her body?
They belonged to my childhood sweetheart, Sebastian. On his finger glinted the very wedding band I had lovingly slipped onto his hand.

"I missed you so much..."
"You drive me crazy, baby..."

His hoarse moans coming through the speaker were agonizingly familiar. Those exact sweet whispers, the ones that used to make my heart flutter, now completely destroyed me.

To the outside world, we were the ultimate power couple. I ran his empire, exhausted myself to build his perfect life, while he bathed in everyone's envy. But who knew my flawless marriage was nothing but a sick, twisted lie?

Tears blurred my vision, but as the video ended, my sorrow morphed into something cold and lethal.

Sebastian thinks he is a master manipulator. He thinks he can have my loyalty while drowning in my sister’s bed.

Well, since he loves acting so much... I think it’s time I gave him a taste of my own performance.

Playtime is over. I am going to tear down his 'perfect husband' facade piece by piece, and I won't stop until I witness his total ruin.

For six years, I had worked as a contract killer to pay for my brother's leukemia treatment.
Today, I had finally saved enough money to cover his surgery.
But he casually rejected the operation.
"Actually, I'm not sick. And Mom and Dad aren't dead, either. I planned that car accident six years ago."
My husband, Damian Blackwood, followed his confession with one of his own.
"I never went bankrupt, either. Every time I told you I had to work overtime, I was actually staying at our mansion because I couldn't stand squeezing into that filthy basement apartment with you."
"I originally planned to make you suffer for another three years, but the stench of blood and gunpowder on you has become unbearable."
My hand froze as I was about to swipe my card to pay the medical bills.
My brother snatched the bank card from my hand and tossed it into the trash.
"There's no money left on it. I gave away everything you earned from those assassination contracts to beggars. Money earned by taking lives is cursed. We don't want anything to do with it."
My blood ran cold.
Why were they doing this to me?
It wasn't until I saw my parents standing before me that I completely broke down.
They stood at a distance, their faces twisted with disgust, as though I were something contagious.
"If you promise never to bully Vivian again, you can still be our daughter. Otherwise, we'll cut all ties with you!"
Just as despair consumed me, a familiar mechanical voice sounded inside my head.
[Would you like to abandon this mission and leave this world?]

My mother was dying, and I—the fallen heiress of the Sterling family—had no choice but to ask my husband for the $200,000 stipulated in our prenuptial agreement, less than a week after our wedding.

He transferred the money without a word.

But that night, the way he looked at me changed.

"So the Sterling family is drowning in fraud scandals. I guess greed really does run in the blood."

From that day on, Theodore never looked me in the eye again.

He started openly parading other women at social events, letting everyone mock me as a gold-digger who only married him for money.

Today is my birthday. I'm sitting in the emergency room with unbearable stomach pain.

Meanwhile, Theodore is throwing a party for his new girlfriend.

Clutching the $185 emergency room bill, I call him.

"Theodore, let's get a divorce."

"Here we go again. How much are you trying to extort from me this time?"

My husband, Victor Falcone, was a mafia godfather whose very name makes the entire underworld tremble.
A year ago, he barely survived an assassination attempt. The trauma gave him severe amnesia, completely wiping out the three months we spent keeping each other alive in the slums.
When he woke up, he was a different man—cold and ruthless. He treated my stepsister like his untouchable first love, spoiling her rotten.
And me, his legal wife? In his eyes, I was just a greedy, desperate woman who wouldn't take a hint.
"Drop the cheap pity act," he’d sneer. "You’re not worth a single hair on Lilia’s head."
Even so, I chose to stay by his side, desperate to spark his memory.
Until today. A rival cartel tied me and his precious "angel" to iron pillars on an abandoned pier.
Beneath our feet is a raging, pitch-black ocean. A thug has the ice-cold barrel of a gun pressed hard against my temple.
Which one of us will he choose?

I saved Theron’s life, and in return, he lined up his eight grandsons before me. Whoever I chose would be the next Alpha of the Frostvale Pack. My wolf instantly recognized Rhysand—my fated mate. I chose him without hesitation.
On our wedding night, the moment I touched him, he broke out in hives and gasped for air. The doctor said he was allergic to me. Overnight, I became the city's laughingstock. For three years, I walked on eggshells, terrified to even step near my own husband.
Until he was dosed with a lethal aphrodisiac. If not cured within two hours, he would die. I threw caution to the wind and climbed into his bed. Through an entire night of skin-to-skin contact, there were no hives, no suffocation. His "allergy" had miraculously vanished.
But at dawn, his ex-girlfriend Linnea walked in. Rhysand looked at me like I was garbage. "If Linnea hadn't saved me last night, I'd be dead."
Two weeks later, I found out I was pregnant. But before I could even share the news, a raging fire buried that unspoken hope—along with my unborn child—in the ashes forever.
I finally understood. He was never allergic to me.
He just never loved me.

My husband and I couldn’t get pregnant after we got married, and we really wanted a baby of our own,

We tried IVF, and after three failed rounds I finally got pregnant,

But then my husband and my parents suddenly started pressuring me to get an abortion...

I'm the youngest lead surgeon in our hospital's cardiothoracic department. My fiancé, Adrian Wexford, runs the whole department.

His first love, Bella Hartley, is a mediocre surgeon, but she wants to take over the surgery that should be mine before her promotion review.

In my last life, I fought for it. I told them she didn't have the skill to handle it alone, that it was gambling with a patient's life. I threatened to quit and saved the patient.

But Bella couldn't handle the gossip going around the department. She got depressed and jumped off the hospital roof.

Adrian never said a word about it. He kept treating me the same, picked out wedding rings with me, smiled and told me we'd go on our honeymoon right after the wedding.

I thought he'd let it go.

Then on our wedding day, one glass of wine in, I woke up in a freezing basement, strapped down to an operating table.

He held a scalpel and cut into me, inch by inch, his eyes bloodshot.

"If you hadn't fought so hard for that surgery, Bella wouldn't have jumped. You owe her. Pay with your life."

When I opened my eyes again, I was back in the afternoon he first suggested giving Bella the surgery.

This time, I didn't argue. I just smiled. "Sure. Let Bella take the lead on this one."

They have no idea that next Tuesday, the Chief of Surgery is bringing the board and a visiting specialist to observe, unannounced.

We'll see how they explain this one.

After two years of marriage, I finally got pregnant. I rushed to my husband's office with lunch to share the news, but his assistant mistook me for a sugar baby trying to trap the CEO. She dragged me into a back room and dumped scalding coffee on my head. When I tried to explain I was the wife, she laughed and called security. They stripped my clothes, kicked my stomach repeatedly, and destroyed my ultrasound photo. I begged them to call my husband, but they smashed my phone instead. By the time he found me, our baby was gone.

In my previous life, my assistant—whom I treated like a little sister—personally handed me a cup of poisoned honey lemon water that destroyed my career.

The man I loved with all my heart ran off with every penny I had.

I died like a stray dog on the streets, with no one to claim my body.

Meanwhile, those two backstabbers took my money, sang my songs, and basked in the spotlight while thousands of fans cheered them on.

I died with so much resentment in my heart.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back at that exact moment—when my assistant was handing me that poisoned honey lemon water.

This time, I was determined to make them pay the price!

I was driving my dad's luxury car to pick up a friend when his secretary stopped me on the spot.
She mistook me for the lover who had sex with my dad in his office.
So she used car theft as an excuse to drag me into the basement, beat me up, and took nude photos of me.
When my dad found out, he asked me to apologize to her.
That's when I realized that in his eyes, his reputation mattered more than his own daughter.
If that's the case, he doesn't need to be the figurehead CEO anymore.

Do all men lose interest in their wives after marriage?

We’ve been married for five years, and he never touched me.

At first he said he wasn’t well, so I was understanding. Later he recovered, but still kept me far away.

On our fifth wedding anniversary, my sister came in for a check-up, clearly pregnant with his child.

The truth hit me hard: he wasn’t incapable. He was just incapable with me.

I drew up the divorce papers, ready to end this empty marriage.

On the reason for divorce, I wrote with my own hand:

“Male sexual dysfunction; no marital relations in five years.”

He only smiled coldly when he saw it.

A week later, in the urology clinic.

I put on my medical gloves, looked at him, and said calmly:

“Sir, will you undress yourself, or shall I help you?”

His disapproval didn’t take away my confidence.

I still embraced better things in my career and love life!

But his life started to be filled with one accident after another.

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 wife and in-laws have been acting strange lately.

They've always hated the Texas farm, but now they suddenly care about me and the ranch.

My wife, who used to complain about me spending money on the "doomsday bunker" farmhouse project, is now actually encouraging me to complete it.

They even say I've been working too hard and bought me a plane ticket to Mexico.

Just as I'm about to take the ticket, a barrage comment appears before my eyes—

【Don't go! Your wife has been reborn from the apocalypse—she wants you to die out there!】

Kayla Faye has spent years waiting for the right moment to tell her childhood best friend how she truly feels. She waited through tenth grade when he started avoiding her. She waited through eleventh grade when he left for college without saying goodbye. She even waited until the day before her graduation, convincing herself she was finally ready.

What she wasn't ready for was finding out Zayn Ponteris had been dead the entire time.

The grief shatters something inside her. And before anyone can stop it, Kayla does something no sorceress should be able to do—she travels back in time.

Suddenly she's fifteen again, standing at their end of year formal, with Zayn alive and right in front of her, completely unaware that in another timeline she watched his parents mourn him.

This time, Kayla is determined to save him. Except nothing goes according to plan.

Zayn has a girlfriend. And the closer Kayla gets to changing his fate, the more she realizes her powers are bigger and more dangerous than she ever imagined.

The supernatural world is closing in. The clock is running out. And the one person standing between Kayla and everything hunting her is the same boy she keeps bending time to protect.

Kayla has no idea what's in store for her.

Because when you bend time, fate bends back.

In a world where magic demands perfection, Elara Voss has always been the forbidden flame, her wild, untamed power a dangerous secret that no coven rule can contain.

When she collides with Cael Draven, a devastatingly handsome human scholar whose very presence should shatter magic, everything changes. Instead of chaos, his touch awakens a breathtaking harmony: her power stabilizes into radiant beauty, glowing threads of fate binding them in ways no ancient law can explain.

As a dangerous coven hunt forces them into hiding, Elara and Cael discover they are far more than outcasts, they are the missing pieces of an ancient, passionate destiny. In moonlit glades and enchanted ruins, their slow-burning connection ignites into something fierce and undeniable: stolen kisses that spark starlight, protective embraces that make the world tremble, and nights where their bodies and magic entwine as one.

But the deeper their forbidden love grows, the more powerful forces rise against them. With jealous rivals, ancestral spirits, and a ruthless coven closing in, Elara must decide: cling to the world that rejected her, or surrender to the man who makes her feel truly whole and risk everything for a love written in the stars.

In a tale of fated mates, sensual magic, and heart-pounding adventure, one wild heart and one steady soul will rewrite the rules of their world... if their passion doesn’t consume it first.

She cursed the Demon King. He has spent centuries hunting her.
Maeve has no memory of the life that made her the most wanted witch in the Lore. She only knows she has never stayed in one place for long and that monsters seem to find her wherever she runs. Then a stranger walks into her shop. He was cold and beautiful and very very dangerous. The Demon King.
One kiss is enough for King Eldon to realize the impossible. His greatest enemy has returned. She is the witch who cursed him in another lifetime. The woman who stole his future, shattered his kingdom and vanished before he could make her pay.
She remembers nothing. But demons only recognize their true mate after the bond is tested and every instinct tells Eldon she might be the one fate has denied him for centuries. He swore he would never forgive her. She swore she would never belong to a demon.
Now the only woman who can save his kingdom may also be the one destined to destroy it again.

BOOK 2 in Mated to my Ruin series. Can be read as standalone.
BOOK 1–Mated to my Ruin: A Dragon’s Debt

I’m in love with my sworn enemy.
My touch tames his inner beast.
… Until I find another woman’s bite mark on his neck.

As a holy witch, I shouldn't be sneaking out for Zuri—a cursed shape-shifter from a rival clan.
But our forbidden heat is intoxicating.
When his monstrous Primal breaks free, slaughtering everything in its path, even his fiercest warriors cower.
I don't.
I walk straight to the blood-soaked beast, press my body against his, and tame him with a single, desperate embrace.

There’s just one problem: his clan betrothed him to a Shaman’s daughter.

I tell myself it's purely political. I tell myself his heart is mine.
Until tonight.
He sneaks into the woods for me. We share a deep, hungry kiss under the moonlight.
But as I pull back, my blood runs cold.
Right there, on the neck of the man I just risked my soul to save...
Is a fresh, undeniable bite mark.

"I came here to kill him. Now I’m the only one who can save him."

Cressida Ashcroft is the last witch alive. For eleven years, she's hidden her magic, suppressed her power, and trained for one purpose: infiltrate Blackfrost Academy and destroy the werewolf heir whose family slaughtered hers. But when a near-fatal accident puts her in the arms of Lucian Thorneval, the enemy she swore to hate becomes the only one who makes her feel alive.

One thing keeps them together; ice hockey and biking.
Bound by a forbidden magic neither of them understands, hunted by his betrothed, a princess who killed her own sister to claim him. Cressida must choose: the revenge that has kept her breathing, or the boy who is slowly dying for his family's sins.

Some bonds are written in blood. This one will be written in fire.

Rosalie Bellrose has always believed there are worse things than being a witch. Being a terrible one, for example.

Her magic never answers to spells or potions. It slips into her baking instead: happiness in honey cakes, forgotten memories in cinnamon rolls, longing in strawberry tarts. So Rosalie runs her strange little bakery, sells enchanted pastries to those who can afford them, and keeps her magic to herself.

She never imagined her secret would end up on a king's plate.

Kael Edevane is the ruthless king of the kingdom, and when something goes terribly wrong after he eats one of Rosalie's creations, her quiet life comes crashing down. By morning, her bakery is shut down and soldiers are at her door.

But that's only the beginning.

For the first time in years, Kael can feel again. Her warmth. Her loneliness. Her anger. And worst of all, her desire.

Then Rosalie discovers her grandmother's death was not what she was told. Whatever her grandmother was hiding, someone is willing to kill for it.

And the closer Kael gets to Rosalie, the more dangerous their attraction becomes. Because there are secrets surrounding her that neither of them can afford to uncover.

If Rosalie cannot find the truth before they find her first, she may lose more than the bakery her grandmother left behind.

Three years in a loveless marriage with Leo Cox, Mona thought she could win his heart with her unwavering devotion, but Leo showed no love or concern towards her. Eventually she got tired, filed for divorce and left after founding out Leo was cheating on her— but she was already pregnant for him.

Leo assumed Mona was merely playing hard to get-after all, he bet she'd be back, begging for reconciliation. But no one saw it coming; after the divorce, Mona transformed into a confident woman and Leo is stunned by her transformation.

Now, Leo is drowning in regret, desperately chasing after Mona-but by this time, it was already too late.

He started contemplating every day, wondering if breaking a leg or going bankrupt would be enough to capture her attention.

Warning: This book contains a large number of very hot adult scenes!
“Look at the state of you, my little she-wolf,” his voice was low and full of menace, like sandpaper scraping across my nerves. “You got this wet just from that?”
Then he pressed a hard kiss to my knuckles.
Fuck!
His rough tongue slid across my slender finger bones, tasting the salty sweat and fear on my skin.
A violent tremor shot through my whole body.
A moan I couldn’t suppress slipped from between my lips. “Ah… Sebastian…”
I felt my thighs rubbing together on their own, that damn traitorous movement making my pussy clench so tight I nearly came.
Yes, that’s it, you desperate little bitch.
I cursed myself in my mind.
He flipped my hand over, his thumb pressing hard—almost punishingly—into the sensitive skin on the inside of my wrist.
My pulse pounded there beneath his palm like it was going mad.
“This is beating so hard,” he whispered, his breath hot against my skin, “is it beating for me, Seraphina? Tell me.”
Then he took one of my fingers into his damn hot, wet mouth.
Oh God…
His rough tongue swirled, rubbed, scraped along the skin of my finger, warm saliva soaking every inch.
And his eyes never left me—fixing on me like a beast locking onto prey.
He sucked softly at first, then suddenly with force.
That rhythm…
Fuck, he was fucking my finger with his mouth.
“Are you using this to fuck my mouth, Seraphina?”
He let my finger go with a filthy pop, seeing straight through my thoughts.
“Imagine this is my cock. Does it feel good, you filthy little she-wolf?”
My back arched uncontrollably, like the lowest kind of whore silently inviting him.
A broken, shameful whimper escaped my throat.
“Good… so good…”
My scent thickened, wild floral heat and lust filling the air, swallowing the last of my reason.
I could feel the terrifying restraint in his body cracking apart.
He wanted to hear me moan his name as I came.
He wanted to bury himself inside my soaked, empty heat until I could feel nothing except his violent thrusts.
He moved to my middle finger, giving it the same obscene, thorough attention.
His tongue circled wickedly at the base, then pushed deep, sucking hard as if tasting the sweetest honey.
Fuck!
My hips jerked upward without control.
My other hand dug into the carpet, knuckles white, vision dissolving in the storm of desire swallowing me whole.
“I need you… to fill my pussy, Sebastian…”
——
I grew up as a human in a wolf pack, but ironically, I ended up becoming the mate of the pack’s Alpha. I thought I would fit perfectly into the wolves’ world—until the day I caught my Alpha mate tangled with another she-wolf in the back seat of a car.
With trembling hands, I tricked him into signing the divorce papers—silently swearing revenge. But they didn’t stop. His mother sent thugs to destroy me. His mistress tried to erase me. Even my coworkers wanted to use me.
That night, I nearly lost my life.
Until Alpha Sebastian found me—cold, ruthless, unmatched. He said he didn’t need a mate.
But he protected me like a mate. Touched me like a mate. Looked at me like a mate, as if I already belonged to him.
I tried to resist his approach. I didn’t want to make the same mistake twice. Wolves would never accept a human mate.
But whenever he came near me, whenever those scorching hands reached for me, I always hungered for him—wanted more—yet I was done with promises.
Until I discovered that my past was not simple at all—and Sebastian had his own reasons for approaching me—

I still remember the way the air felt when it left my lungs for the last time.

For five years, I was the Quiet Luna of the Blood Moon Pack. I was the wolf-less girl who wasn’t supposed to be there, the one the Omegas mocked and the elders ignored. I thought Nikolai Grey was the kind brother—the safe choice. I loved him through every cold look, and every night he left me alone because I couldn't give him a pup.

I was his wife, but to him, I was just a prophecy to be fulfilled. And when I didn't fit the mold? He didn't just discard me. He ended my life in front of everyone.

But the Moon Goddess gave me a second chance.

I woke up five years ago. The Knight family expects me to marry a Grey. They think I’m going to choose the charming, smiling Nikolai again.

They’re wrong.

I’m done being the victim. If I’m going to survive this life, I don’t need a husband; I need a weapon. I need the brother Nikolai is terrified of. The one they call a monster because he doesn't know how to pretend.

Alexander Grey. He’s ruthless. He’s cold. He’s the Alpha everyone avoids in the hallways. I walked right up to him, ignored the warning growl in his chest, and asked him to marry me.

Nikolai thinks he’s getting a submissive bride. He has no idea that this time, I’m bringing his worst nightmare home to dinner.

In a world where love is a dangerous game, Leila Castor finds herself charmed by the devil himself. Ben Maloney, with his alluring facade and sweet promises, hides an evil truth that threatens Leila's life. When he betrays her, leaving her to choke on her blood, Leila's thirst for revenge knows no bounds.

And luckily fate grants her a second chance, And discovers she has been taken back in time two months before her death! Will she rewrite the wrongs done to her or set out on a path of retribution against those who wronged her?

The female presidential candidate slipped a real-time tracker into my bag, then handed me the divorce papers.

She still thought I would coddle her like I had for the past five years and stay by her side.

"Fine." I signed the papers and left.

She started tracking me, driving away any women around me, showing up at my house in the middle of the night begging me to come back.

But... weren't you the one who wanted the divorce?

I’m a cleaner—the kind hired to make problems disappear: eliminate targets, wipe scenes, erase evidence.

Three years ago, I walked away. I took a desk job at a consulting firm, spending my days sorting files and filling spreadsheets.

To everyone else, I was an easy mark. The project lead mocked me in meetings, stole credit, and dumped every mistake on my head—always in public.

Then came the department banquet.

My enemies showed up.

The same lead who’d been riding me all year ignored my warning and blocked the hallway, drawing a crowd.

The next second, the bomb went off—and the banquet hall was sealed.

That’s when everyone finally understood who the quiet office clerk really was.

At a dinner party in a Long Island mansion, my wife, desperate to latch onto a newly minted venture-capital darling, let our five-year-old son smash the gift I’d brought in front of everyone—then waved the keys to a luxury car and made him call another man “Daddy.” With icy arrogance, she slapped a divorce agreement on the table, convinced that a bottom-tier nobody like me would be unable to even put food on the table once I was gone. I didn’t argue. I left only four words—“As you wish”—and walked out in silence.

What she didn’t know was that the business empire she was so proud of stood behind a moat I had built with my own hands, from the shadows. What she knew even less was that the Wall Street titan she tried to cling to in her moment of desperation… was the ex-husband she had always tried to avoid.

When the mirage finally collapsed—when debts buried her and she was dragged down into the mud—she went mad searching for me. In the midst of a blizzard, my ex-wife, dressed in rags, knelt in Times Square, sobbing and begging me to come home. I only raised the window of my Maybach, calm and expressionless, and drove off without looking back—toward a shore she would never reach. Love that comes too late is worth nothing.

I swear, I hate my husband.

At my birthday party, my husband whispered to his mistress in French that he missed her. His voice was low, but I heard it all—the black lingerie, the bit about how pregnancy makes you more sensitive. His French clients around us were laughing. He turned and put his arm around me, claiming he was just helping his clients come up with sweet nothings.

He doesn't know I understand every single word. Just like he doesn't know that inside my body, I'm carrying his other surprise. And his mistress—she's pregnant too. Two wombs, one secret.

Confrontation would be too cheap. Tears are worthless. I quietly started cataloging the hidden networks my father left behind, activating the Swiss accounts.

In seven days, Zoey Smith will cease to exist. And what will my husband's reaction be?

She was my best friend — until she used a soul-swapping potion to steal my body, my face, and my man.
In my past life, I was trapped inside her fat, ugly shell and drowned in the freezing depths of the sea.
Reborn on the day before the swap, I didn't expose her.
I smiled and drank the tea.
After she left, I picked up a knife and carved two deep gashes across my own face.
Then I threw myself from the second floor.
The next morning she woke up giddy with excitement. The moment she looked in the mirror, her screams echoed through the entire hospital.
Meanwhile, I opened my eyes in her Mafia Godfather father's estate — and walked straight into the family council.
She wanted my beauty? She could have it.
The power she was desperate to throw away? I'll take it.

Ethan said he loved me, yet he planned to get me pregnant, push me out of our company, and use our child and marriage to trap me at home.
He needed an obedient wife, a partner who would protect his company, and a woman who would never leave.
But the woman he truly wanted was the lover who had left him seven years ago.
So on his birthday, I brought both families to his door and delivered the “love of his life” right to him.
He expected me to break down and beg him to come back.
He had no idea I was walking away from far more than our marriage.

Ten o'clock on a Friday night. I'd just gotten my daughter down when my phone lit up.
A name I hadn't seen in three years: Preston Kane.
Sophie, it's been three years. You've had long enough to cool off. I land at Logan tomorrow night. Come pick me up, and bring your parents. Let's set a date.
Let's do the wedding on Isla Perla. You always talked about that place.
I stared at the screen. I sent back a single question mark. Then I added: We broke up three years ago.
A voice memo came back almost instantly. He sounded exactly the same. That same unshakable certainty.
"Broke up? Says who? I never said that. You haven't dated anyone in three years. You were waiting for me, obviously. Don't worry, I'm going to marry you. As for Nina, try to be the bigger person. She's the one who took care of me in London all this time. I'm sure you two will get along fine."
I turned my phone face down on the nightstand.

In my past life, I was cheated on.
My wife is having an affair with my fitness coach, and even our five-year-old daughter isn't my child.
I filed for divorce, and she left with nothing. I thought my life couldn't get any worse—but then the apocalypse came, and I was bitten to death by zombies.
In her last moments before she died, I saw her family of three nestled in her lover's secluded mountain cabin, with plenty of food and drink, passing away peacefully in their old age.
God gave me a second chance.
Back on the day we signed the divorce papers, I smiled and said to my ex-wife, "You can have the villa, but I want Julian's dilapidated cabin."

I had to claim Caleb tonight.

I had paid a six-figure premium to contract a high-level werewolf mate from the nation’s top "Fated Mates" agency. I had chosen him for his elite stats, the "absolute submission" guaranteed in his file, and most importantly, a face that could put any Hollywood A-lister to shame.

But over the last few months, things had completely derailed from my expectations.

He refused to let me touch him!

I have to figure out what's going on.

Every anniversary, my boyfriend pretends to propose to me—just because his adopted sister thinks it’s hilarious.
One year, the ring box held nothing but a "Dream on" note. Another, he dropped to one knee—just to tie his shoe. Last year, he finally slid a real ring onto my finger. The band was lined with silver. While I screamed, he and Myrtle laughed themselves breathless. In the ER that night, he held my bandaged hand and swore: Next year. For real.
So, on the eve of our seventh anniversary, when he called me out to the lake house I’d designed for our future, I curled my hair. I wore a new dress.
I opened the door, and a bucket of ice-cold mud crashed down over my head.
“Sorry, babe,” Hesper grinned. “I bet them you’d show. You did—so no proposal this year.”
I ripped off the moonstone pendant I’d worn for seven years.
“Then we’re done.”

Typically, brides swap bouquets for good luck when wedding motorcades cross paths.
But in Liam’s Southern hometown, they had a twisted tradition: they swapped brides.

When our limousines met bumper-to-bumper, Kinsley leaned right past me. She pressed a lingering kiss to my fiancé’s cheek.
"Hope you don't mind, Rachel," she purred with innocent malice. "I’m stealing your groom."
The groomsmen howled like it was a frat party.
"Might as well take his honeymoon suite key too!" one shouted. "Liam wouldn't survive the wedding night without his childhood sweetheart anyway!"
They roared with laughter.

I sat frozen, my gaze locked on Liam. Just tell them to stop, I prayed. Just choose me. Just this once.
Instead, Liam gave me that familiar, condescending smile and patted my trembling hand.
"Don't pout, Rachel. You're the mature one, remember?" he coaxed. "It's just a local tradition. We can't break customs today."
Something inside me finally snapped. There was no anger left—just a bone-deep exhaustion.
The old me would have screamed and demanded respect. But today, I simply slipped my hand out from under his.

Without a word, I stepped out of the car. Ignoring Liam's sudden look of confusion, I walked straight past the cheering groomsmen toward the other limo.
Kian Porter—Liam’s college roommate—leaned against the hood. I reached out and smoothly looped my arm through his.
The laughter choked to a dead halt. In the deafening silence, I looked up at Kian with a steady smile.
"Let's get out of here, fiancé."
If Liam wanted to play by their twisted traditions, fine. This time, I was giving him exactly what he asked for.

When my younger brother got into a top university, the whole family celebrated for him.
I, suffering from a terminal illness, clutched my chest and desperately cried for help, only to be met with a disgusted slap from my mother and the words, "You just can't stand to see your brother doing well!"
She thought I was a spoilsport, so she roughly dragged me back to the room and locked the door from the outside.
She didn't know that those were the last words I ever heard in my life.
The next morning, she opened the door with breakfast in hand, only to find my corpse.

In the Hall of Divine Selection, my younger sister stepped on me and declared that she was the only one worthy of becoming the Dragon Queen. Then she threw Kaelorn at me—a broken, half-blind dragon she had tortured until even his tail was severed—like he was nothing more than a worthless mate for a worthless bride.
In my last life, I was stripped to the bone and imprisoned by the Dragon God, while she lived free and untouched.
But this time, the moment she raised her hand to slap me, I had already made up my mind—
In this life, I'll be the one to drag her into hell.

For three years, I loved Alpha Damon enough to swallow every humiliation. Then he left me at the mating altar for his stepsister and expected me to understand. I walked away from him, from his pack, and from the fake Moon Goddess decree she used to destroy me. He thought I was only heartbroken. He did not know I was the hidden heir of Ravencrest, and the next time we met, I would return as his conqueror.

"Come see our wedding invitations!" I excitedly held up the document folder I'd grabbed from ,my fiancé, Lorenzo's study, showing it off to his men in his private safe house on the Upper East Side.

Lorenzo and I had been running ourselves ragged this month preparing for the wedding.

Lorenzo's guys raised their glasses, waiting to see our custom-designed invitations. I eagerly turned the folder upside down—

Marriage certificates, wedding photos, and a property transfer document came tumbling out onto the floor.

Dead silence.

"Oh, these aren't our invitations..." I was still grinning foolishly. "Must be the wrong folder."

"Let me see which lucky lady is about to become a happy bride."

I looked down at the wedding photo. A beautiful brunette woman in an elaborate white gown smiled from the center of the picture, looking so blissful, so content.

When my eyes shifted to the groom beside her, my world collapsed.

It was Lorenzo. He wore a perfect black tuxedo, but he was tenderly embracing a woman I'd never seen before.

When my fiancé left me to burn alive to save his "fragile" white lotus, I thought my story was over.

But death had other plans.

Reborn with memories intact, I watched him make the same fatal choice—abandoning me in the flames for her. This time, I smiled and said, "Go save her."

Because this time, the most powerful Alpha in North America was coming for me.

Derek thought he was discarding a burden. He had no idea he was throwing away his only lifeline.

Now, as I stand beside Lucas in his billion-dollar empire, watching my ex grovel in the gutter, I have just one message: karma is a bitch, and so am I.