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A past generations’ wrongful case makes Julian mistake innocent Sienna for his foe’s daughter. Exploiting her crush, he ruins her Cambridge dream on graduation night, destroying her family. For five years, Sienna works in a sleazy club to fund her sick mother’s care.
Their unexpected reunion leaves Julian torn between disgust and secret affection. When the truth surfaces, consumed by regret, he cancels his wedding and spends all his wealth to atone. Yet Sienna’s love is long gone. After settling her family with his money, she leaves forever.

I catch my husband in bed with the live-in housekeeper.

He shoves her behind him. "She's only twenty. Barely out on her own, doesn't know any better. Can't you be the bigger person here?"

His mother points a finger in my face. "You're an orphan. If we hadn't taken you in, you'd still be out on the street begging."

"Be smart about this. Make room for Kaylee, so we can all live under one roof in peace."

They've both forgotten that back then he couldn't even make rent, and I worked three jobs to build his company for him.

Forgotten the year his company was going under, when I ran to three different banks across the city in a downpour chasing investors, passed out in the street, and lost the baby.

Four whole years of them looking down on me after that.

I say I want a divorce.

Preston just laughs at me. "You're a housewife. Walk out that door and you'll starve on the sidewalk by tomorrow."

I drag my suitcase onto the overnight bus and go home to a place I haven't set foot in for ten years.

It's the middle of the night when I get there. The streets are empty. Three men reeking of liquor block my way.

That hand is about to touch my face when a Harley roars up and stops right beside me.

The muscled guy on it has a cigarette in his mouth. He looks me over. "Need a hand?"

I’m Wren, hidden sole heir of Ravenwood Pack, living as a regular lone wolf at wolf academy. My roommate Brielle steals my exclusive pine pheromone, copies my relics, steals my elite quota and tricks my betrothed Alpha Kane with a fake royal identity. I challenge her to present the unforgeable Lunar Pearl at the ball. When my father, the pack Alpha, exposes her family’s theft, I reject the misled Kane and reclaim everything the imposter stole from me.

For three years, I paid so my sister could rebuild her life — her rent, her lawyers, her hospital bills, the shop she now runs in my name. Lucas, my fiance, always told me it was the right thing to do. I believed him, because believing him was easier than admitting how tired I was. I flew home two days early to surprise him. Instead, I opened my own front door and found my sister in his lap, wearing my robe, laughing in a voice I'd paid to keep happy for years. Ninety-nine empty perfume bottles stood along the wall — quiet witnesses to nights I never knew existed. Lucas didn't apologize. He asked me to be more understanding. My sister cried and called me cruel. I stood in the apartment I bought, surrounded by the people I built a home for, and realized I had never once been the one who got to be loved first.

With five days left before I was to leave the Black-Fig Pack and marry into the Pear Pack, I packed away everything Kael Thorne had ever left behind.
For five years, I had cherished his lost cufflinks, dried wildflowers he casually picked, and even a used handkerchief.
Now, they meant nothing to me.
I remembered every rejection and every scar he gave me, but I had completely lost the feeling of loving him. It was as if the Moon Goddess herself had severed the bond in my soul.
Kael thought I was just playing hard to get. He didn't know I had already chosen a new life—and that I would never return.

"Mom, I don't need a baby brother or sister. I already have a sister."
I happily pulled out a pair of baby shoes, only for my seven-year-old son to violently snatch them and slam them into the trash can.
It was in that exact moment I discovered that the Alpha leader I had deeply loved for eight years had built a lavish underground mansion long ago—housing his mistress and secret daughter!
And my "obedient" son had been joining his father there every single month, playing happy family with them!
When the shock caused me to hemorrhage, leaving me lying alone on a freezing operating table undergoing a miscarriage, my husband was off comforting his mistress and illegitimate daughter.
In that instant, my love shattered completely. I relinquished custody of my son, left a signed divorce agreement, and walked away without looking back.

My husband, Roman, has a bad heart. Five years ago they cut his chest open, and after that I quit my job and stayed home to keep him alive.
That day I got to his office ten minutes early with his lunch.
Through the glass door I watched Brielle Nash, his assistant, pick up his pill box. Twenty-eight compartments. I fill it every Sunday night.
She flipped open Wednesday evening, tipped the pills into her palm, and dropped them in the trash.
"That's the one that makes you feel eighty."
Roman laughed. He didn't stop her.
Then she handed him the can she'd been drinking from, and he took a sip out of her hand.
"That's living," she said. "Don't tell the boss lady, though. She'd have me fired."
He reached over and ruffled her hair. "I'll lock it in my drawer."
My lunchbox was sitting by his elbow. He hadn't opened it.
Later I found the flask in that drawer. Supplement bottles. A keycard for a boxing gym.
And a key I hadn't seen in five years.
I didn't do anything.
I went home and opened the safe and went through fifteen years of marriage one thing at a time.
Then I started working out what would be mine when he died.

I'd been out of Coldwater for two weeks when my family asked me to go back behind silver.

"It's three nights," Mom said. "You did three years. Three nights won't kill you."

They had no idea it would. I'm dying. The only thing still holding my body together is my mate bond, and three nights away from Silas is all it will take.

For three years in Coldwater, a parcel came for me every month. A blanket, a sweater—something that smelled like home. I slept wrapped in them every night, sure it meant my family hadn't given up on me.

It was my twin sister who sent them.

I didn't know what she'd soaked them in.

After three years of agonizing IVF, I was forced into three abortions. The reason? My mafia in-laws’ pet bird stared at my belly and shrieked, "End it."
Even when I was carrying healthy twins, my own parents held me down and forced abortion pills down my throat. My husband—the man I once took a bullet for—watched coldly. "Listen to the bird. Abort."
Lying in a pool of blood, I finally discovered the horrific truth. There was no "sacred bird." My marriage, my ruined womb, and all the IVF tortures were actually part of a terrifying conspiracy.
On my fourth pregnancy, the bird finally decreed, "Keep it!"
As the whole family treated me like a queen and rejoiced to welcome their precious heir, I quietly walked into the operating room.
Armed with lethal evidence, I crashed their grand succession ceremony.
You want an heir? I’ll send you all to hell instead.

I wanted a second round in bed with my mate. He turned me down. He said he was tired.

A moment later, I heard what he told his best friend.

"I don't know why, but Tilly's gotten so... dull. It's all duty and routine with her."

"She's only getting older and duller. Honestly? My wolf doesn't even stir around her anymore."

Then he went behind my back and found himself a young girl.

Fresh. Bright.

He thought he'd hidden it perfectly. But before he knew it, I was sliding a Severance Pact across the table.

"Here's the thing about getting older, Cass. It buys you money, time, and the nerve to play, and to lose."

I died on the night of my eighteenth graduation party, pushed off a rooftop by the two people I trusted most.

In my past life, I was the ultimate fool.

When my two childhood friends—both heirs to top elite families—decided to throw away their futures, I panicked.

They actually wanted to reject their admission offers from Harvard and Yale.

All to follow Lily, a charity case from the slums, to a literal no-name trade school called Sunny Valley Vocational Academy.

I begged them to stop.

I even used my family's connections to try and get Lily into a legitimate university.

But Lily wept in front of them, claiming my money insulted her dignity, and that I was just jealous of their "pure love."

Liam and Noah completely lost their minds.

That night, they cornered me on the roof.

"Vivian, you killed Lily. Go to hell!"

As it turned out, Lily went to that trash school alone and committed suicide.

They blamed me entirely for her death, nursing that grudge until they finally pushed me into the abyss.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the exact day we were supposed to lock in our college choices.

This time, count me out.

When my husband's eight-year-old "nephew" Noah was diagnosed with acute leukemia, the whole family begged for my help.

They needed my six-year-old daughter, Molly—the only perfect match.

Against my instincts as a head nurse, I agreed.

But the second Molly's stem cells were harvested, their gratitude vanished.

To avoid paying for my daughter’s mandatory sterile recovery room, Noah's mother live-streamed a crying fit in my lobby, accusing me of medical extortion. My husband, Grant, stood by in utter silence.

Without the isolation bed, my baby girl contracted a severe infection and died. My mother-in-law simply sneered outside the ICU, "Dead is dead. Better than wasting more money."

Three months later, Noah relapses.

Now, my phone is blowing up. The same people who watched my daughter suffocate in her own fluids are desperately begging me to use my hospital registry access to save him again.

Standing by Molly’s tiny headstone, I look down at the confidential DNA report I pulled from the hospital database.

They think I don’t know Noah is actually Grant's illegitimate son. They think I'll just hang up and cry.

Instead, I swipe to answer the call. It's time to make them pay.

To protect my older sister's piano championship, my own brother crushed all ten of my fingers.
To win my sister's favor, my fiancé hired someone to kick the baby out of me.
After surviving a fire that nearly killed me, I finally woke up.
And when I returned, I blasted the hard proof of their affair and their schemes all over the internet. As I watched them lose their minds, lose everything, and drop to their knees begging for mercy, I let out a cold laugh, turned around, and claimed the top of the world!

I had the gift of beast-speech, and beasts never lied to me.
When my sister, Valora, brought me a wild berry tart, a forest finch shrieked, "Poison!" In my past life, I believed it. I flipped the tray, cursed her, and was thrown into the dungeon like a madwoman. In this life, I did the opposite. I ate it. I vomited blood, and my spirit wolf died instantly.
When it was time to marry, a raven warned me that my Alpha fiancé was a "disfigured madman." In my past life, I broke the engagement and married a Beta, only to be tortured to death by him and his mistress. In this life, I insisted on marrying the Alpha. But on my wedding night, a blood-soaked, disfigured monster was waiting for me.
When my mother-in-law, Liora, coughed up blood in front of everyone, a nightingale cried, "Give her White Dittany for the poison!" In my past life, I force-fed her the herb, and she bled from her eyes and died. In this life, I stopped anyone from giving her the herb. But that night, she died anyway.
Listen to them, and I die. Ignore them, and I still die.
Then, I opened my eyes. I had been reborn, back to the exact moment everything went wrong...

For three years I played the perfect fiancée to the most dangerous Alpha in the city.
I walked on tiptoe because he hated noise. I taught myself to cook meat the way wolves like it. I messaged him every night he didn't come home, and most nights he didn't.
I did it because the Sacred Spring said I was his fated mate, and a human with no magic doesn't survive here without one.
Then the Temple sent me a notice. The old reading was an error. Our true match rating is zero. The bond is void as of today, and they wish me all the best.
Honestly? I was relieved. I dumped his dinner in the trash, dragged my suitcase out from under the bed, and wrote him an IOU for three years of rent.
Then Kael came home early.
He looked at the empty plate. He looked at the suitcase. And the coldest Alpha in the city stepped into the doorway so I couldn't get past him.
"Who told you our match rating was zero?"
"And who told you that you were free to walk out on me?"

On our wedding day, Declan sent me out to Long Island. We'd been together seven years.

He said he'd left his grandmother's lucky cufflinks at the family house.

But when my car died in the storm, I opened my bridesmaid's Instagram live.

Declan was sliding my custom diamond ring onto Phoebe's finger—my adopted sister, the one with the bad heart.

My own parents were crying in the front row. My bridesmaids were cheering.

They'd turned my wedding into a dying wish ceremony for Phoebe.

Hours later, alone in the ER, I called forty-seven times.

No one picked up.

Not until after I lost the baby and disappeared from Manhattan.

That's when Declan finally came apart.

In my last life, my mother-in-law locked me in the attic, and my wife openly cheated on me with the neighbor. Even when I was dying of terminal cancer, they bled me dry until my very last breath! Now that I've been reborn, the extreme-heat apocalypse is just around the corner. In this life, I'm living for myself. I spend every last cent of my savings stockpiling three years' worth of supplies and building a heat-proof survival villa! Now I can sit back and watch my mother-in-law's family struggle to survive in the deadly heat. Beg on their knees for my forgiveness? No! I will never forgive them!

All I wanted was a quiet place to live. I drained my savings and paid eighty thousand extra for the one unit on the row with a private backyard.
On my very first day, I found my neighbor's son beating my new hydrangeas with a stick while his mother stood there filming him and laughing.
Bianca says the yard belongs to everybody. Her husband is vice president of the HOA board, so around here, whatever he says is the law.
I showed them my deed. I called the police. I sent a certified letter. Every single time the answer came back the same. This is a civil matter, ma'am. Maybe try being a better neighbor.
Then her son put a rock through my living room window, and the HOA fined me two hundred and fifty dollars for putting a lock on my own gate.
Fine. They want that gate open? It stays open.
I just made one phone call. A truck is already on its way.

On my birthday, I was dragged up to the attic and assaulted by several men.
I called my parents, brother, and boyfriend for help, but they all thought I was seeking attention and ruining my sister Sophie's celebration.
"Mia, stop it. We're busy preparing for Sophie's party. If you want attention, find another way."
This was the hundredth time they'd let me down.
But there won't be a hundred and first.
Because I'm already dead.

I had been Lucan Ferretti's wife for five years. I had also been the woman who took a bullet meant for him.
Four years of fertility treatments. Four years of empty rooms where a nursery should have been. Then, the day I finally get a positive test, I find something else: two secret sons, funded by my husband's money, waiting in a house I was never supposed to find.
Their names? The ones Lucan and I picked out together, years ago, in a hospital parking lot.
That night, I sat alone with the positive test still in my hand, memorizing the names he'd already given to someone else's sons.
I could have confronted him. I could have screamed, thrown things, demanded a divorce.
Instead, I find a text message. His mistress has already ordered a hit — on me, timed for our anniversary, dressed up to look like enemy retaliation.
She wants me dead before I can tell anyone I'm carrying his child.
Fine.
She can have exactly what she asked for.

Two years ago, my best friend Maddie knelt in front of me, crying as she borrowed $50,000.
The very next day, she vanished off the face of the earth. No explanation, no apology, not even a single text message.
I was left carrying her toxic debt. I lost my fiancé, and I lost my ability to trust anyone.
Until one late night, a call came in from an unknown number originating in an abandoned mining district in West Virginia.
On the other end of the line, Maddie said she was getting married. She had the money ready—every last cent.
The wedding venue was a ruined church deep in the mountains, abandoned for a decade. The time: Friday, midnight.

My downstairs neighbor tagged me in the building group chat at ten p.m.
His wife just had a pup, he said. Pups need moonlight, he said. So starting tonight, my private moon terrace belongs to his family.
He'd even pay me rent. Ten dollars a month.
For the terrace of a three-million-dollar penthouse.
When I said no, he reminded me he wasn't just my neighbor. He's my supervisor at the Calloway Group, and my probation review sits in his hands. Hand over the door code, or I'd never survive at that company.
He kept saying it. I can crush you at the Calloway Group.
Funny.
My mother owns the Calloway Group.
I was going to let him dig his own grave quietly. Then his family broke into my home, walked up to the one thing on that terrace worth half a million dollars—
And smashed it.

A hormonal condition pushed my weight to two hundred pounds, and for three years, this boarding school made sure I never forgot it.

The ringleader was the guy every girl worshipped.

And beside him stood his girlfriend, the one who always stepped in at my worst moments with a soft voice and a sympathetic look, like she was doing me a favor.

Everyone called her an angel. Only I knew the truth: every time she "helped," things got worse.

One day, she handed me a candy in front of everyone. "Here. Something sweet always helps."

I didn't feel like I had a choice.

That night, a demon showed up at the foot of my bed.

"Congratulations. You ate the pact candy. I'll grant you three wishes — money, beauty, lifespan. You name it, I'll make it happen."

My whole body shook. Three years of humiliation, and finally there was a way out. Wealth, beauty, revenge. All I had to do was ask.

Then the demon's expression shifted, eyes full of cruel amusement.

"There's a catch, though. The real pact-holder is someone else. Whatever you wish for, the one who gave you that candy gets double."

The words I was about to say died in my throat.

Then, slowly, I smiled.

Double?

That's way more interesting than three wishes.

My water broke in the basement where my mafia husband had locked me up. Upstairs, doctors were waiting on his brother's widow.

I begged him over the guard's phone to let me go to a hospital. He heard me crying. Then he told the guard to keep the door shut until her baby was born.

I pressed a hand against my belly. Our daughter was still moving.

When footsteps stopped outside the cell, I called for help again. The man at the door was carrying a medical bag. The guard didn't reach for the key. He told the man to keep me quiet.

The day before spring break, Cole Bennett asks me, red in the face, if he can borrow my empty place up in the hills for one night.

I figure he's planning a birthday party for me, so I don't think twice about handing over the code to the estate.

I've already decided that night is when I'll tell him who I really am.

Eight o'clock on my birthday, I push open the brass doors of the estate, worth millions by themselves.

Music blasts through the great room. The place is packed with people from school, all of them craning their necks, gushing about how gorgeous the house is.

I hold back a grin, ready to go find him and see what he's got planned.

Then I see her in the middle of the crowd, everyone crowding around her, glasses raised.

Sloane Bishop.

Five years in hell, my beloved and best friend joined hands to push me into the abyss. The savior I trusted was actually a deadly fraud. Reborn from despair, Vito came through the light. I tore apart the scumbag and the evil woman, settled all debts, broke free from the shadow, stepped into the light, and lived the rest of my life only for myself.

My husband's mistress sent me a video to rub it in, claiming she had just beaten my "pathetic, begging mother" bloody and kicked her down the stairs.
I froze, glancing up at my actual mother sitting right across from me, quietly sipping her coffee.
Bewildered, I zoomed in on the video.
When I made out the scar on the wrist of the woman lying in the pool of blood, a cold sweat broke out over my body. I frantically called my husband.
But he interrupted my plea with extreme impatience: "Shut up! Roxy was right to teach her a lesson. She was just taking out the trash for me!"
Since he insisted on indulging his precious mistress's death wish...
I wonder if he'll still be able to say she was right to teach her a lesson when he sees his own grandmother's corpse.

My dad made me a smoothie every morning for six months. I thought it was love.
It was a muscle relaxant.
He'd been slipping just enough into my drink to make my fingers tremble at full draw — just enough to cost me first place at every major competition. Not enough to kill me. Just enough to let Laurel beat me.
Laurel. His mistress's daughter. The girl he bought custom diamond jewelry while giving me clearance-rack gear for my birthday. The girl he wanted to drop into my family, my home, and my spot on the podium.
I found the proof. Stopped drinking his smoothies. Clawed my way back to number one.
Then, two days before the National Youth Archery Trials — the one competition that decides everything — he picked up a steel rod and swung it at my right arm.
My drawing arm.
The bone cracked. Doctors said three months minimum. My coach couldn't look me in the eye. Every scout, every scholarship, every dream I'd bled for over three years — gone in one swing from the man who was supposed to protect me.
Trials start tomorrow morning. And I can't hold a bow.

When I was six, my father and his mistress drove my mother to jump to her death. Suicide is a sin, and the Church said her soul could not enter Heaven. So I set out to save her the only way I could: with my Rh-null "golden blood," I worked ninety-nine miracles of life.

Then came the hundredth call. The hospital needed me to save my father's illegitimate son.

One of my employees went online and dragged me, claiming I'm making them sacrifice their health for a paycheck and forcing everyone to work over Thanksgiving.

Here's what actually happened. My company gives nine days off for Thanksgiving. Volunteer to work overtime, get triple pay, with a $500 daily meal stipend and a $5,000 bonus. No one gets penalized for not working.

The whole internet's tearing into me for making employees sell their lives for cash. So I give her exactly what she wants and send out a company-wide notice:

To protect employee mental health, the building gets locked and the power gets cut over Thanksgiving. No one is allowed to work for any reason. Anyone who does gets fired.

The minute that email goes out, the employees who were counting on overtime to pay their mortgages lose it. Now they're all crowded outside the building, begging me to open the doors.

"Happy anniversary, darling. Look what I brought you." My husband's snow-white python once felt like proof of his love—until I remembered dying with it wrapped around my throat. In my past life, I doted on that "gift" for an entire year, never once suspecting its true nature, while my husband and daughter quietly counted down the days until I stopped breathing. Reborn on the very night he presents that same box again, I swear this time will be different.

To win back his one true love, my husband sent me, pregnant and vulnerable, straight into the clutches of a rival mob's dungeon.
I was torn apart by vicious dogs, a brutal end for both me and my unborn child.
After death, my spirit drifted back home, only to hear him coldly chuckle, "Let her learn her lesson; she won't come back until she admits she was wrong."
It wasn't until a mangled, rotting body was dumped at his feet, and he saw the blood-soaked wedding ring on its finger, that this heartless mob boss finally snapped...

"Forty dollars. That's all the inhaler I needed to breathe cost. But in our house, nothing comes easy. 'Fairness first. Roll the dice — highest number wins.' I've rolled my whole life. I've never won. Not once. Tonight, lungs burning, vision blurring, I rolled for my medicine money against my sister. She got a six. I got a two. 'You lost, Hazel. Now go to the attic and think about your selfishness.' The door locked behind me. My chest is closing up. And no one is coming to check."

Married to the head of the Valenti family for five years. Kidnapped on our anniversary. Pregnant a month later.
Five paternity tests said the baby wasn't his. My husband got a vasectomy and swore he'd raise the child as his own.
I believed him.
Then came the therapy. The drugs. Nightmares where I was pinned down by multiple men, so real I could feel their hands hours after waking. I scrubbed my skin raw. Tried to end it six times.
He saved me every time. Held my hand. Told me no one would ever hurt me again.
Until the night I heard him laughing about it in his study.
The kidnapping was staged. The nightmares were chemicals. The DNA reports were forged. All of it — designed by my own husband to protect another woman.
Now I have a recording, a divorce agreement, and a very small box of ashes.
He's marrying her next week. I'll make sure he gets my wedding gift on time.

Five years, I bled for Dario. Took a bullet for him. Cleaned up his dirtiest books. Drank myself into the ER just to keep his bosses sweet.
Then he slid divorce papers across the table and told me to sign. His mistress was pregnant; the family needed a "proper" heir, and I was in the way. So I signed—and let him strip me of everything I'd built.
Three hours later, a rival crew ran his car off the bridge. He survived. But he will never father a child again.
Now he's pouring a fortune he can't spare into his mistress's baby, showing off his "heir" to every boss in New York. He thinks his bloodline is finally safe.
He has no idea whose child he's really raising. And I'm the only one who does.

I was reborn on the very night George White—Don of the White family—was drugged and lost his mind to pure, animal lust.
This time, I didn't offer myself as the cure.
Instead, I gave him the woman he truly wanted. My sister.

In my past life, I fell in love with the Don of the White family. George.
When I learned he'd been drugged—stripped of every shred of reason—I made the choice I could never take back.
I didn't push him away. A month later, I was pregnant.
The family council forced him to marry me. For the heir. For the name. For everything except love.
On the morning of our wedding, my sister Leah couldn't bear it. She fled the estate alone.
That night, a rival family's killers found her.
Before she died, she called George ninety-nine times.
But George was at my wedding. The wedding I had begged for. So he never answered. Not once.

After marrying Rex, I lived every moment on edge, like a she-wolf treading thin ice.
I had to obey his suffocating rules of cleanliness—ritual-level strictness that bordered on obsession—and endure his complete indifference in bed, a coldness no heat could thaw.
I healed his mind when it was fractured, soothed the instability in his wolf, and stood beside him as he rose—step by step—to become the next Alpha heir of the GloomFall Pack.
And yet, on the night of my thirtieth birthday, I discovered the truth.
He was entangled with his father’s mistress—the secret lover of the former Alpha.

Charlotte has always been the spare,
The second daughter, the invaluable one and she hasn't really minded because although it hurts it gives her a freedom that her sister can only dream of.

A freedom that is taken away when she is promised to the notorious Alpha Hunter.
She won't do that; not when she realizes she has a mate out there so she runs away. And where does she run? Straight into the arms of her mate.

Logan has never really put much thought into having a mate but now that he does he will do anything to keep her safe Even battling a crazed and much older Alpha who wants to keep his mate for himself

--“I cannot dismiss the feeling that I will not survive the night. I am shaking in fear, but I know my time is coming to an end, and all this is happening on my 18th birthday. That is the very worst part, I was so looking forward to starting a new chapter in my life.”

--“I can feel our mate, Jake. I can sense her but her scent is faint. She is scared, we need to help her.”


Evie Andrews is a loner. Abandoned as a baby, she has spent her whole life in foster care in New Orleans. She was turned in to the police after she was born and has no idea at all who her parents even were. She has never felt like she fit in, and she has hidden herself behind oversized clothes and made sure her hair helped her cover her face. All she wants in life is to live peacefully with the lady who has been her foster mom for the last 8 years. Evie will be graduating high school in less than two weeks, with her birthday falling the day after graduation. She is looking forward to seeing what the next chapter in her life will be as her high school experience has not been a positive one. She has been bullied for years since she started high school, and longs for the peace that she believes will come with college. She is excited about going to college with her only friend Gracie. She knows that her life is about to change, but not for the better. Danger comes from a very unexpected place without warning. Evie will have to use her wits to try to get away from the people who took her. She is to be used as a human sacrifice by a voodoo priestess who has changed the ceremony as she needs a bigger blessing than she believes an animal can attain. Will anyone be able to save Evie from those intending to kill her to get the rewards that they want to receive from the God's? Or is she doomed to die alone, and afraid?

His cheeks are turning red, I can tell he’s feeling uncomfortable. Fire is spitting out of Fiona’s eyes: “How dare you! That was all my clothes and personal stuff. Don’t say you touched it, you pervert..”

Hunter is holding on to the blanket as strong as he can and looks away. “I can give it back to you, I - I promise that I didn’t mean to touch it. I got mesmerized by the scent on it, I had to smell it.” he says, softly.

Her hand flies through the air ‘till it meets his face. The sound of her hand slamming his cheek, fades in the air. Hunter gasps for air, and looks back at her face, confused. I can see in his face that something has changed. His eyes look determined now. He grabs Fiona’s right wrist and growls: “MINE!”
Mating season is coming again.

After the war, werewolves are fighting extinction. To help the werewolves survive, the nature made them a ‘mating season’. That means there'll be three or four weeks a year, male werewolves are able to smell every fertile she-wolf in the area.
Indy, a 22, and probably the oldest, virgin werewolf. She doesn’t fit the physical description of werewolves. Being the oldest virgin, Indy was trying to find her fated mate. She's hiding herself with another shewolf - Fiona - during mating season, but hiding gets more difficult every year. This year, they have to find new hiding spots.
And when they noticed that they’re not alone in the new hiding spot, things got really interesting.

Dark Romance in Blackthorne Hollow

C
Title: Whispers in the Shadows
Genre: Dark Romance
Synopsis:
In the desolate town of Blackthorne Hollow, secrets are buried deep, entwined with lust, betrayal, and forbidden love. Clara, a brilliant but introverted college student, returns to her hometown after her mother’s sudden death, haunted by memories and an overwhelming sense of loss. As she unravels truths about her family and her mother’s hidden past, she encounters Adrian, a charismatic yet enigmatic figure who walks the line between darkness and light.

Fated to cross paths, Clara and Adrian are drawn to each other while battling the ghosts of their pasts. Their connection ignites a flame that challenges societal norms, morality, and ultimately, Clara’s sense of self. As they spiral deeper into their desire, chilling enigmas surface, revealing secrets that could tear them apart—stories of obsession, power play, and a love that asks: how far will you go for the one you love?

One day I'm dealing with cranky toddlers and parents who work too much to actually parent, the next my life is turned upside down and I'm working in a bar for supernaturals. I might not know how to mix drinks, but strangely enough the skills needed to deal with misbehaving children seem to work well enough on vampires, werewolves and even witches. The good news is this job is interesting and hey, my boss might be a demon but I'm pretty sure that under all the grumpy expressions he is a total softie. The bad news is that humans aren't supposed to know about all this magic stuff and so now I'm magically bound to this bar until I can convince them that I won't go telling everyone. Or I die, whichever comes first. Sadly dying is seeming more and more likely because someone is after me. I don't know who or why but they are dangerous and they have magic. So I'll domy best to survive, and if that means spending some extra time with my scary but gorgeous boss then so be it. I'll convince him to trust me if it's the last thing I do.

She was raised to fear men like him. She never expected to feel alive because of one.
Grace Whitfield has lived her whole life inside the lines. Pastor's daughter. Sunday school
teacher. The good girl Millhaven is proud of. She knows her place, her purpose, and exactly
who she's supposed to become until a wrong turn on a rain-soaked highway lands her
stranded outside the Steel Roads MC compound, and the most dangerous man she's ever seen
pulls her out of the dark.
Jett Harlow doesn't do innocent. He doesn't do complications. And he absolutely doesn't do
preachers' daughters with wide eyes and a mouth that won't quit. But Grace stumbles into his
world and refuses to flinch, refuses to be dismissed, and refuses to stop looking at him like she
sees something worth saving underneath all that leather and sin.
He's spent fifteen years burying a past that would destroy everything he's built. The club. The
loyalty. The careful control he keeps on the darkness inside him. Grace makes him want to let it
breathe and that terrifies him more than any enemy ever has.
But someone from Jett's past hasn't forgotten what he did to survive. And a threat moving
quietly through Millhaven is about to shatter the world Grace has always known, forcing her to
choose between the safety of everything familiar and the man who makes her feel like she was
never truly alive until now.
He knows he'll ruin her. She knows he's worth the risk. The devil always did have a weakness
for grace.
She stumbled into his darkness. He never found his way back to the light until her.

My fate was truly terrifying. When I was little, I dreamed of a handsome and dashing prince on a white horse to be my husband. I held on to that dream for years, hoping it would come true. I'd never had any luck in romantic relationships. I'd dated twice, and been cheated on twice. They said I was ugly, a weird nerd with thick glasses. Well, I didn't care, because I was a genius. I still hoped my prince on a white horse would come someday.
But reality was cruel. The man who came to me wasn't a prince on a white horse with a charming smile, but a dying man with three bullets that nearly ripped his heart out. He was Elion Starling, a businessman and Don. He forced me to heal him, and in that very moment, he claimed me as the mother of his child.

[WARNING: RAPE, TORTURE, MURDER, MATURE CONTENT 18+]
In the shimmering light of what was supposed to be her dream wedding, Hazel's life descends into a nightmare she could never have foreseen. As the celebration unfolds, the joyous occasion swiftly transforms into a horrifying bloodbath, leaving Hazel to wonder if anyone has survived.
The man she was meant to marry, her childhood lover... Was he still alive or not?
But the nightmare was far from over. Captured by a ruthless and deranged man who reigned as the king of the underground mafia, Hazel's life took a dark and harrowing turn.
Forced into his bed in a state of vulnerability and despair, Hazel faced a horror she had never imagined on what should have been the happiest day of her life.
But her body bears the scars of unspeakable cruelty; her innocence is forever stolen.
Her secret mission, the path she embarked on with purpose, has now spiraled into a dark and perilous mission for survival.
**
“You have no right to treat me in this way.”
Francisco, a man with a darkness that matched the shadows of his empire, gritted his teeth and issued a chilling warning, "I can be more cruel to you, detective."
‘I am not weak; just remember it, Francisco. I am not afraid of you…’

They told me my family died in the fire. They lied.
Foster care. Adoption. A garden. Fists. Silence. The only rule that kept me safe: Don’t make a sound. It hurts less.
Now I train abandoned dogs to trust again. Every one of them learns. I don’t.
My adoptive parents marry me off to Bluehaven’s most dangerous man to settle a debt. A prenup is placed in front of me. Separate rooms. Separate accounts. No feelings. I sign. My first choice. Can my life get any worse?
He pins me to the wall. His hands on my skin. My fingers in his hair. I’m shaking. He stops. Waits.
“Want you,” I say. “All of it.”
For the first time, being touched doesn’t have to hurt.
For the first time, a man isn’t something to fear.
I think that’s all there is. A contract. A body. Two broken people who don’t let go.
Until I’m called to a client’s home to check on a dog.
A photograph hangs on the wall.
The little girl in the photograph is me.

" As my wedding gift, I want you to be the surrogate of my child! You promised to give me what I wanted as my wedding gift!"

Violet's world crashed down overnight when her best friend of twenty years and first love announced his engagement. On top of that except her, everyone including his family knows that her best friend has another woman who he is going to marry.

Soon after the blindsided revelation, Violet experienced the disrespect and humiliation from the very person who worshipped the ground she walked on.

However the real kicker came when her family and her best friend forced her to be the surrogate and, with a very important contract papers...

A Marriage Agreement with her best friend to bring the child legitimately.

Charlotte has always been the spare The second daughter, the invaluable one and she hasn't really minded because although it hurts it gives her a freedom that her sister can only dream of A freedom that is taken away when she is promised to the notorious Alpha Hunter. She won't do that; not when she realizes she has a mate out there so she runs away And where does she run? Straight into the arms of her mate. Logan has never really put much thought into having a mate but now that he does he will do anything to keep her safe Even battling a crazed and much older Alpha who wants to keep his mate for himself

Plot and Description:
In the heart of Paris, "Passionate Encounters in Paris" unfolds as a tale of forbidden love and profound connection between Alexander Laurent, a driven American entrepreneur, and Amélie Dubois, a talented local artist. Their serendipitous meeting at an art gallery sparks an immediate attraction, drawing them into a whirlwind romance amidst the city's enchanting backdrop.

Amidst the iconic landmarks and cobblestone streets, Alexander and Amélie navigate the complexities of their burgeoning relationship. Alexander, captivated by Amélie's vibrant art and spirit, finds himself drawn to her passion and creativity. Meanwhile, Amélie is equally enthralled by Alexander's ambition and the depth of their emotional connection.

Their love story deepens with each intimate moment shared—the stolen kisses in quiet cafés, passionate encounters in Amélie's Montmartre loft, and heartfelt conversations under the Parisian moonlight. As they explore the city together—from the Louvre to the Seine—they discover new facets of themselves and each other, forging a bond that transcends the boundaries of their respective worlds.

However, their love is not without its challenges. Caught between their undeniable chemistry and the obligations that threaten to pull them apart, Alexander and Amélie must confront the realities of their situation. Yet, through it all, their love remains steadfast, a testament to the enduring power of passion and the timeless allure of Paris—the city where their hearts found home in each other's embrace.

My father left me here when I was 5 and promised to return soon.

I’m now 20 and I have not seen him since.

I wished I was strong like him, but I’m scared and broken and I still can’t shift into a wolf.

*****Ava, a low-ranking werewolf must face her fears from her past to save her best friend. Prince Ashton must rescue the scouts to regain his honour and prove himself to his father. They need to work together to achieve their common goal, but they could not be more different. Even if they can put their differences aside, they would be breaking the law, but then there is something that pulls them together and maybe being forbidden makes it more exciting.
Will Ava discover the truth about her past?
Will Prince Ashton still want her when he knows the truth?
Will the kingdom be saved?

The other two books are BOOK TWO: The Elementals and BOOK THREE: Worlds collide.