2956 Book(s) Related to alpha s vampire mate

"You don’t even know what you’ve stepped into, Elena."

Alexander Moretti- a name Elena Rossi never wanted to hear anymore- is arrogant and cold. The billionaire who embarrased her in front of an entire gallery. But when he offers her the opportunity of a lifetime—a commission that could change her dwindling career—she has to make a choice. She’ll accept his money, complete the job, and forget he ever existed or that they even crossed paths.

But forgetting Alexander Moretti is quite impossible. His presence alone is suffocating, his eyes filled with something she can’t decipher—something capable of causing her harm. The closer she gets, the more she realizes he has a secret. And then, she finds the photograph.

One picture.
One lie.

Elena's world crumbles when she fins out that her family’s tragic accident wasn’t an accident at all. The Morettis had a hand in it. And now, Vincent Carter—a man with a vendetta—is using her as a pawn in a deadly game.

"Run, Elena."

But it’s too late.

She’s trapped between the man who might have destroyed her life and the one willing to kill to protect her.

“You take us so well, don't you?" Kade says, slamming his cock into my mouth as Lucien thrusts into my pussy at a savage, maddening pace. “Our sweet, little destruction."

They say the moon never forgets a sin, and on the night Nyra was born, it remembered them all.

Marked by the goddess and hunted by every clan, Nyra carries a power that could either save the wolves… or end them. The Lunar Crystal, the goddess’s shattered heart, can break the curse that’s slowly destroying their kind , but only if awakened by her blood.

Now the light wolves want her captured, the royals want her dead, and four dangerous rogues want to protect her, even if it means defying the laws of the moon itself.

As enemies close in and forbidden bonds ignite, Lyra must choose between surrendering her power… or embracing the darkness rising within her.

Because under the bleeding moon, love can be just as deadly as fate.

"Once the stem cells are extracted, send the newborn abroad. Sarah can't stand the thought of me raising a child with another woman."

Standing frozen outside the clinic door, I listened as my supposedly loving, devoted husband coldly dictated the fate of my unborn baby.

At that moment, the devastating truth hit me. The beautiful nursery he had meticulously designed, the tender kisses he planted on my pregnant belly every night—none of it was out of love for a new life. He was merely checking if the "matching donor" for his first love's son was developing well.

What chilled me to the bone even more was the realization about our firstborn. The fatal "medical accident" that took our eldest son three years ago was a complete lie...

He had personally stolen our son's life-saving antidote to save his bastard's life!

He destroyed my first child, and now he had his eyes on my second.

But there is one thing he doesn't know: that so-called illegitimate son isn't even his.

He sacrificed his own flesh and blood to save a fake heir.

When he finally discovers the truth, he will learn what true hell feels like.

Five years into my marriage, I took off my Donna necklace at the Rossi family’s New Year’s Eve banquet and Noah still thought I could never leave him.
He stood by the long table with his mistress, Amelia, and said in front of every capo, “Some people will never measure up to her. Not even close.”
I didn’t cry. I didn’t make a scene. I just turned and walked away. On my way out, my cousin Lucas, my fixer, handed me a cup of coffee.
Three days later, he brought me two pieces of news.
Amelia was four months pregnant. And Noah was trading family territory to get his bastard child recognized by the family.
“What are you going to do?” Lucas asked.
I stared out the window, thinking about the red lipstick stain on Noah’s shirt. Thinking about the smug look in his eyes when he told me, “I only helped her because I felt sorry for her.”
“Wait,” I said. “Wait until they think they’ve won.”
What Noah didn’t know was I was still holding one last trump card.

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

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

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

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

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