3490 Book(s) Related to my hero academia vigilantes online

I was three months pregnant when I found out my husband had been cheating with the cousin I had kindly taken in.

My son said he wanted her to be his mom, then shoved me down the stairs and caused me to miscarry.

The day I lost the baby, my husband sat beside my bed. His voice was gentle, soft enough to lull someone to sleep.

“Relax,” he said. “You’ll forget all this pain.”

I closed my eyes and let him plant layer after layer of hypnotic commands in my ear.

“When you wake up, you’ll be an obedient wife.”

Now I watch them living happily ever after as a family of three.

They think I’m nothing but an empty shell.

They have no idea that I’ve already posted this plea for help online:

[HELP] My cousin is wearing my sexy nightgown to seduce my husband, I caught them cheating, and my son calls her “Mom.” But I just feel numb. What am I supposed to do?

I died on the operating table—my heart cut out, my unborn child destroyed, my identity stolen by the woman who replaced me.
Now I'm back. At the exact moment they're celebrating my replacement's victory, I step out of the shadows and into the light of my own funeral.
Tonight, I will not beg. I will not cry. I will not give them the satisfaction of watching me break.
Tonight, I become the nightmare they've been running from. For twenty years, they treated me like I was invisible. Let me show them what happens when you ignore the one person who could destroy everything you built.
I am Serena Astor.
The rightful heir.
And I will have my revenge.

When the bridal bouquet landed directly in my arms, the entire reception erupted.
All eyes shifted to Elias, the man I had loved for seven years.
"Propose! Put a ring on it!" the crowd chanted, pushing him toward me.
My heart raced. I thought my endless waiting was finally over.
Instead, Elias stepped up, smiled... and pulled the flowers right out of my hands.
He turned around and shoved them into the arms of his twenty-five-year-old assistant.
"Don't be greedy, Kalinda. Let Mia have the luck today," he chuckled, patting my hair like a pet. "We've got plenty of time. Next time, I promise."
I watched his assistant bury her face in the white peonies, shooting me a triumphant smirk.
I just smiled back.
There isn't going to be a "next time."
My wedding is coming. But he isn't the groom.

"Abort it," my husband said, his voice completely dead.
This was the man who had just fought off the guards to save me. The man who swore to protect me. But after one single croak from that cursed one-eyed raven, he condemned our third child to death.
My in-laws held me down. My own parents watched in cold silence.
As the abortion poison tore through my body and my blood stained the carpet, they all let out a sigh of relief.
Why? Why was this entire family so obsessed with my womb? Why did everyone obey a bird over a doctor?
I thought I had married into a prestigious noble family. I thought I was just a victim of their twisted traditions.
Until midnight, when I dragged my broken body past the study and saw it through the cracked door:
Black candles. A bloody pentagram. And my mother-in-law kneeling before the portrait of a man.
I finally understood the terrifying truth...

My childhood fiancé chose my best friend in his family's sacred bridal draw, then told me I could still live with him—as his mistress.
He wanted her as his wife and me running his empire.
I refused.
If I couldn't be his wife, I'd be his worst nightmare.
In seven days, I'm marrying his ruthless uncle.
Let's see if he still wants me as his dirty secret when he has to bow his head and call me “Aunt Serena.”

On our tenth anniversary, a doctor told me I had three months left.
I called Graham five times before he picked up. He was at a restaurant downtown, cutting the steak on his ex-girlfriend's plate, and he told me to stop acting like a paranoid wife.
So I never told him.
I folded the diagnosis into my coat pocket, went home, and rinsed the blood out of the sink before he walked in. Then I signed away the house, the cars, every share of the firm I helped him build. I left his ring on the coffee table, canceled the number I'd had for ten years, and checked into a hospice with nobody's name on my emergency contact line.
He thought I was throwing a tantrum. He thought I'd come crawling back the second the money ran out.
He didn't find the diagnosis until it was too late to matter.

At the Aurelia International Youth Violin Competition, someone had hidden steel needles in my daughter's violin and bow. Her fingers streaming blood, she lost her footing and fell from a railless platform thirty feet up. Both her hands and arms were shattered.
I ran to her like a madwoman, desperate to call an ambulance, but the other girl's mother had her people pin me to the floor.
"You stole my daughter's violin? This is what happens to thieves!" she sneered.
But that violin was the one my husband had specially commissioned for our daughter in Paris!
"Save my daughter first! We can sort out everything else later!" I fought with everything I had.
A slap cracked across my face.
"A worthless life. If she dies, she dies!"
"I'm the wife of Dawnfrost's CEO, Mr. Sterling. I can afford it!"
The blood in my veins turned to ice.
Yale Sterling? That was my husband.
Perfect. Just perfect.
Yale had the nerve to keep a mistress behind my back, and to let her spend my money to buy my daughter's life!
If I didn't tear you two apart piece by piece today, I'd have carried the name "Reaper of Wall Street" for twenty years for nothing.

The day the IVF succeeded was when I realized Michael had deceived me all along.
He had only used me as a surrogate for my sister.
When I confronted him, he tested me, forcing me to kill someone. "Afraid to pull the trigger? Doesn't seem like my kind of woman," he sneered.
I tried to run, but he caught me.
He kept me locked away, forced me to eat foods I was allergic to until I needed my stomach pumped, and chained me to the bed while he went off with her.
I cried until I had no tears left—and finally learned how to hold a gun.

My son Emery scored a perfect SAT and got early admission to MIT Physics. Eighteen years old. His future was limitless.

My billionaire husband Reid's assistant—his mistress in everything but name—suggested Emery attend some garbage local business school instead. Inherit the empire. Fall in line.

Emery said no. Reid exploded.

He locked my son in the lumber yard and ordered him to split five tons of oak. "No water until he's done. That'll teach him respect."

The sun was brutal. My son's asthma attacked. I knelt before Reid's mistress and begged for his inhaler while Reid crushed my right hand—my surgeon's hand.

I got the inhaler and ran back as fast as I could.

But I was too late. My son was already dead.

My daughter has passed away, and my ex-husband abandoned us.

In my darkest hour, my first love, Lysander, reappeared; he covered the medical expenses, married me, and provided me with a home.

For five years, I believed I was the luckiest woman in the world.

Until that fateful day, four months into my pregnancy, when I overheard his conversation with a friend—

“To save Celeste, I thought... who knew it would lead to the death of Seraphina’s daughter?”

“As for Seraphina, she is a good wife, but alas... I do not love her.”

It turned out that my daughter’s death was no accident.

It was revealed that these five years of marriage were merely his quest for atonement.

The one he had always truly loved was Celeste—my ex-husband’s current wife.

As I lay on the operating table, I made a decision—

Since he had taken my daughter’s kidney, I would seize everything from him.

Including what he believed he would never lose: me.

To help his life-saving benefactor, he personally pressed a pregnant me on the operating table to draw bone marrow.
I cried and begged him, "James, I'm pregnant. It's your child. Don't do this to me..."
But he had a look of disgust in his eyes. "Elizabeth, you'd lie about something like that just to get out of helping Mandy?"
Until there was a river of blood in the operating room and that unformed child turned into a pool of bloody water, he finally panicked.
Later, when he knew that the person who saved him in the fire ten years ago was actually me, he held my ashes and knelt outside the operating room for a full three days.

Five years into our relationship, a floating panel appeared just above Julian’s head, visible only to me: the [Life Priority Meter].
For the longest time, my name securely held the number one spot. That is, until recently, when it plummeted to second place.
The person who knocked me down to claim first? Harper—my best friend of over a decade.
Staring at the stack of wedding invitations on the table, bearing both our names, I knew it was time to wake up from this five-year long dream.

At the engagement party, Julian tore up our agreement on the spot, selling me for a single dollar to Callum, a man rumored to be a bloodthirsty, crippled psychopath.

Our mutual friend frowned.

"Are you out of your mind? Sylvia stayed by your side through your hardest three years, and you're really going to send her off to be tortured by a freak like Callum?"

Julian casually swirled the whiskey in his glass.

"It's just a little punishment. Rosie is carrying my child and needs a title, but Sylvia is too damn proud. Not only did she refuse to step down, but she also upset Rosie and affected her pregnancy."

"Callum is a twisted cripple. Give it three hours, and she'll break down completely. By then, she'll obediently accept Rosie's existence and even willingly stay as my hidden mistress."

The friend looked at my retreating back and couldn't help but ask, "Aren't you afraid you'll push her too far, that she'd rather stay with that psycho than come back to you?"

Julian let out a light scoff.

"Absolutely impossible. She loves me so much she'd give her life for me. Even if she takes a trip to hell, she'll only beg me to be her savior."

I picked up that one-dollar coin from the floor, without a single tear or tantrum.

Later, Julian broke into Callum's estate like a madman, begging me to go back with him.

But the disabled man from the rumors simply stood up, pulled me securely behind him, and sneered, "My wife. Is she someone you are even fit to touch?"

They thought that by forcing me to my death, they could devour everything.

My father jumped off a building, and I became a destitute young master whom everyone could bully. To pay off debts, I married into the Hawthorne family and became their sharpest knife.

After my father-in-law died suddenly, my wife immediately brought her childhood sweetheart into the house and forced me to divorce him.

My resistance resulted in a murder plotted by 928 × 213.

When I opened my eyes again, Chloe, who had been watching over me for three days and three nights, was beside me.

She said, "I'll take you away."

Three years later, I returned as a mysterious investor. The first thing I did was to buy the family's bankrupt old factory for 1.5 billion.

My ex-wife and I bumped into each other on the street; it was like seeing a ghost.

I smiled and stuck a 30 million yuan check on her forehead: "This is to repay the divorce fee you gave me back then. Keep the change."

The real revenge has only just begun.

My brother Miles blames me for our parents' deaths.
So he chose to adopt the deaf Vivian instead of keeping me.
Later, I met Sullivan.
He gave me a grand confession. He chose me, resolutely.
He also said I hired someone to assault Vivian—that I didn't deserve sympathy.
Five years after being cast out of my family, a dismembered female body was found inside a carnival mascot costume.
Miles, now a police officer, led the investigation. Sullivan, now a forensic pathologist, performed the autopsy.
They saw the bloodstained hearing aid and immediately called Vivian.
"I'm fine. I just saw the news—some big case. Should we tell Sis to be careful too? What if something happens to her?"
They refused, almost in unison.
"The moment she killed our parents, she stopped being my sister."
"She was jealous of you. She did too many terrible things. If she's dead, she had it coming."
My soul hovered in the air, watching them. I laughed until I cried.
But when they found out the victim was me—
Why did they both go mad?

My mother-in-law was a spoiled and soft woman.
Fifty years old and she couldn't book a rideshare. Couldn't pick up a package. When the breaker tripped, she cried into a video call to her husband and her son.
The whole family agreed on it. Her only skills were clinging and being adorable.
Then I bled at nine weeks and took myself to the ER.
The OB who picked up my chart was my husband's best female friend. Sable.
She saw me, photographed my chart into their med-school group chat, and hit record.
"Come look, everybody. Dog's wife. Pregnant five minutes and already bleeding from bed."
"Twenty-eight and she's already a geriatric pregnancy. You've got to pace yourself, honey."
The whole room laughed and looked at my stomach.
My face burned white. My nails went numb in my palm.
Thirty minutes later the door hit the wall.
My mother-in-law, the woman who covered her ears in her husband's arms over a tripped fuse, walked in on four-inch heels.
Behind her: hospital administration, the compliance office, and the sitting Chief of Obstetrics.
She pulled the chart out of my hand without lifting her eyes.
"Twenty-eight is advanced maternal age? Normal physiologic fluid, and you called it too much sex?"
"Dr. Smith, is your mouth that filthy because your brain's been marinating in locker-room jokes, or did your ethics get eaten by a dog?"

I've been able to see clocks above people's heads since the day I was born. As long as the hands keep moving, the bond between us is still alive.

Once the hands spin backward and stop at zero, that bond is finished.

When I was seven, the clock over my best friend's head just stopped one day. She drowned in the reservoir the next morning.

When I was fifteen, my grandfather's clock started ticking backward, slower and slower, until it stopped completely. He died peacefully in his sleep that same night.

When I was eighteen, my father, a drunk who lied about everything, slammed the door on his way out. I watched his clock vanish completely and knew right then he was never coming back.

Ever since, clocks scare me. I'm always afraid of watching someone I love get taken away from me.

So I keep my head down, holding on tight to the quiet, stable life I've fought so hard for.

Then tonight, I watch the clock above Marcus Hargrove's head start spinning backward.

What scares me even more is Willow's clock doing the same thing.

While I'm still trying to figure out why, the storm hits that night. He walks out on his daughter while she's burning up with fever and having convulsions, and runs straight to another woman.

His clock jumps back another notch.

Every time my husband’s adopted sister, Avey, had a tennis match, he would force a dark green concoction down my throat. As soon as it kicked in, my entire body would turn weak and aching.
He claimed it was a folk remedy, and I believed him.
In half a year, I lost twenty pounds, half my hair fell out, and I lost our four-month-old baby.
Until the night I overheard them whispering behind a cracked door—they had sought out a witch and cast a dark curse.
My forced standstill was the price for her endless stamina. All her fatigue and sports injuries were being directly transferred to me.
Late that night, listening to them plot to drain the life out of me, I made a choice. On the very night Avey won her championship, I climbed into a deep hibernation pod. I traded thirty days of absolute physical stasis to ensure she could never stop.

The world knew my grandfather as Professor Guo Zhenghua—a man who spent fifty years lecturing about justice.
They knew his wife as Lin Wanyu, a celebrated artist admired for her integrity.
Both reputations were built on a stolen identity.
The real Lin Wanyu was my grandmother.
She died in a mountain village with no legal name, no recognized grave, and her eyes still open.
When their grandson demanded a place at my law firm, I gave him the answer no one had ever dared give his family.
“No.”
By morning, they had taken my job.
By noon, I was ready to take everything else.

The man I marry will become the future leader of the company.
In my previous life, without a second thought, I chose to marry the eldest son
whom I had always liked.
But shortly after our wedding, he came stepsister,
and even took out his frustration of not getting her on me,
going so far as to poison and kill me.
This time around,
I chose his younger brother.
I'll see for myself
if he can spend his life with my sister without me standing in their way. me.
This time around,
I chose his younger brother.
I'll see for myself
if he can spend his life with my sister without me standing in their way.

Sofia married into a brutal mafia clan, trapped in a hollow marriage to distant crime lord Edward. For three years, she's fought a shameful, burning craving for his eighteen-year-old son Ryan—a brooding werewolf heir with golden beast eyes and primal hunger simmering beneath his quiet coldness.
When a risky highway escape forces her onto Ryan's lap, repressed longing erupts into forbidden friction.
Hidden from Edward's line of sight, Ryan marks her, staking primal claim to the woman who should only be his stepmother.
Torn between crippling guilt and addictive obsession, Sofia surrenders to his feral passion.
Until one day, the door swung open...
The taboo stepmother-stepson forbidden love was exposed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your fate hasn’t changed,” he says, stepping closer. “What you saw will come to pass—unless you break the curse.”

“How?” My voice trembles. “Please, tell me. Anything to stop that horror.”

His gaze darkens. “Your death… by the hands of your mate.”

My world stops. And when I turn to Bion, his face is pale—like he already knows.

~

On her eighteenth birthday, Melanie Spane’s life shatters. Meeting her destined mate, Bion Anaxagoras—the most powerful and untouchable boy in school—should have been a dream. Instead, it becomes the beginning of her curse.

Memories of another life begin to surface. A hidden truth starts to crack: Melanie is no ordinary girl—she’s the lost princess of the supernatural world.

The same princess cursed by an ancient witch.
The same princess destined to destroy everything and everyone.

And the only way to stop her—is for her mate to kill her.

But Bion is no hero. He’s darkness wrapped in one—loyal only to her.

He would burn the world to see her breathe.

A fated love.

A deadly curse.

A choice between love and the end of the world.

Being a female Alpha is rare, especially in a world that still doubts women in power. Every move I make is judged. Any sign of weakness would be used against me.
Love is not just love for someone like me. It is a sign of weakness.
Taking an Alpha consort feels like risking the pack my grandfather handed to me. He ruled without a mate. If he could do it without a mate, so can I.

So when fate bound me to Leo Leonidas Blackwood, my childhood friend, the one I once loved without fear, I rejected him without delay.

I chose my throne over the bond. But a mate bond does not disappear because an Alpha says no. It lingers. It pulls.

Now everyone is watching. The elders want me to have a mate. The pack wants stability. But no one asks what I want. Because loving him once broke me and choosing him again might destroy us both.

.

The day our family went out on the water, my husband took his first love, Maeve Hayes, jet-skiing in a restricted maritime zone.
After half a bottle of wine, Maeve insisted on riding to the island across the bay to draw a heart for him.
The moment she climbed onto the jet ski, she twisted the throttle all the way.
The machine shot forward and slammed straight into my younger brother's yacht.
Instead of caring about the yacht that was rapidly sinking, my husband, Adrian Cole, grabbed Maeve's hand and comforted her.
"As long as you're okay, that's all that matters. Those idiots shouldn't have taken their yacht into a restricted zone. If they got themselves killed, that's their own fault."
He didn't call for help.
He didn't even look back at the sinking vessel.
Only after the yacht had disappeared beneath the waves and everyone aboard had been reported missing did Adrian finally call me.
"Eleanor, your brother and mother went down with the yacht."
For a moment, terror swallowed me whole.
Then I saw my mother beside me, just as she used to be when I was a little girl, putting a freshly cooked piece of meat into my mouth.
My brother came running over, laughing as he tried to steal a bite.
"Mom, you always favor Eleanor!"
They were standing right beside me.
So who were the people trapped inside the sunken yacht?

The night I asked for a divorce, my husband, who claimed to love someone else, lost control.

His slender fingers gripped my slender waist, his breath hot and ragged as he buried his face in my neck and murmured, "Can we not divorce? Who is that man in the painting?"

I tried to push him away, but his fingers slipped into my underwear, teasing me.

"Can he make you feel this good?"

--

Sloane once believed that three years together could warm Jared's cold heart.

But when his ex-girlfriend returned, she, the "legal wife," instantly became an eyesore in the way.

He thought her vicious and forced her to apologize to her scheming ex, never knowing she carried his child.

"After I sign the divorce papers, I'll disappear completely." She turned and left without looking back.

After the divorce, Jared looked at his successful and beautiful ex wife and was filled with regret.

"Let's remarry." He knelt before Sloane with a diamond ring.

But Sloane turned and embraced her childhood savior instead.

This time, can Jared win back Sloane's heart?

The Queen of Blades, Rika dies, hoping for a better life for the remaining survivers leaving a ruined world and she regrets not living a long happy and full life before her death. She awakes as a newborn in a strange but peaceful environment, in the same world of the novel Dreaming Kiss. Rika is reborn as Ulrika Vincent and realizes that she's got a scumbag of a Prince to cut out of her new life. And she wants to save her favorite character, Grand Duke Aric Solheim and what better way to do that than have a one night stand with him and get pregnant by him!

My fiancée abandoned our wedding just because of one word from her childhood sweetheart.

What's even more interesting is that she actually had her sexy sister take her place at the wedding.

This is just wonderful - if you leave, then don't come back.

I already have a legal wife now.

A wealthy socialite slapped me hard across the face in the emergency room.
What she didn't know was that I was actually a specially appointed expert ranked number one in the world in cardiac surgery. What
she didn't know even more was that three hours later, I would be holding the scalpel, deciding the life or death of the head of her entire family.
When the most authoritative hospital director in New York, accompanied by a group of experts, stumbled into the emergency room, sweating profusely and bowing to me, this socialite's dream of a life of luxury was shattered completely.

Three years of companionship, I secretly suppressed her violent S-class psionic power with my mortal body.
Yet on the day of her awakening, she cast me out like garbage.
The night I left, her genetic collapse began.
When the Zerg invaded and she knelt begging for mercy, I walked onto the battlefield alone—where my Nullification Field passed, the Zerg Overmind was reduced to a punching bag.
Star nobles dared to touch my sister?
I single-handedly breached their orbital fortress.
Now I've established the iron law of the universe, and all races bow before me.
And that woman who once drove me away is now kneeling in acid rain, her forehead bleeding from kowtowing.
Too bad—my hot pot is ready, and I have no time to open the door.

Asher and Aspen the billionaire twins need a new submissive.
They finally found one who happens to be their new personal assistant Lisa. Since they don’t want to scare her away by coming on her, they decided to seduce her into accepting to be their sub.

The first time they met, Jace looked her in the eye and said, "I don't sleep with virgins. Too much trouble. No satisfaction."
The second time, desire betrayed his rules. "Walk away, Nerissa. Or I'll stop pretending I can resist you."
The 99th time, everything changed. "I don't want to be your lover anymore. I want to be your husband."

To save her father's life, Nerissa offered the only thing she had left — her first night. The buyer? Dr. Jace Whitmore. Cold, powerful, and dangerously untouchable.

For Nerissa, it was supposed to end when the debt was paid.
For Jace, it was just lust. He thought once he tired of Nerissa's body, letting her go would be easy.
But neither of them expected to fall — hard.

As desire deepens into something dangerously close to love, their fragile bond is tested by ruthless enemies, haunting secrets, and the brutal reality of their worlds: hers, humble and struggling; his, ruthless and elite.

Can a relationship born of desperation and desire survive the storm — and turn into something real?

ADRIAN Cole had it all. Wealth, power, a beautiful wife, and a daughter who adored him. But one mistake… one affair… and one phone call from his mistress was enough to shatter the perfect life he thought he controlled.

When Amelia walked away, she didn’t just leave her husband behind, she carried a secret of her own, a secret that would change everything.

Now Adrian is left chasing shadows of the woman who once loved him, realizing too late that money and pride can’t heal the wounds of betrayal. But the road back to Amelia’s heart isn’t just blocked by her pain, it’s poisoned by the jealousy of her own sister, whose hidden hatred runs deeper than anyone could imagine.

Caught between regret, family betrayal, and the fight for the woman he once took for granted, Adrian must prove that his love is real this time. But what if Amelia’s forgiveness is the one thing he can never buy back?

A story of betrayal, heartbreak, and redemption. Will love survive when it’s already too late for sorry?

When Christine Woods collapses into a hospital bed from unbearable pain, her husband's response is colder than the IV dripping into her veins: "Stop pretending to be sick."
That same night, a single social media post shatters her marriage--Neil Caffery, intimate with the first love he once claimed was dead.
Three years of marriage. Three years of neglect, indifference, and quiet self-deception.
In that moment, Christine finally understands the truth: she was never a wife--only a substitute.
Not wanting to live as a substitute any longer, she divorced her husband.
After divorce, Christine started her new life, achieving success both in career and love.
Seeing her so radiant and successful, her scumbag husband beg her to come back.
"Hazel, I know I was wrong. Please come back."
However, before Christine could respond, the country's richest man kicked him and held Christine's waist, "Who are you? Stop pestering my wife!"
His voice was cold, his presence imposing.
Christine looked at him and snorted, "When did I agree to marry you?"
"Baby, are you still angry about last night? I promise, I will be gentle next time." The man said, looking at her playfully.
Christine hit his chest playfully, her face turning red.

For one whole year, Ava lived in the dark.
The woman obsessed with her mate had thrown a fistful of poison into her eyes and robbed her of her sight. But Ava endured it all, because Victor never left her side. He hunted down every specialist. He held her through every breakdown. He swore that the day she could see again, he'd make her his Luna.
She believed him. She loved him.
Then the surgery worked—and Ava saw everything.
She came home to surprise the mate who'd "suffered" alongside her for a year… and found him in bed with Stella. The same she-wolf who had blinded her. And while he thought she still couldn't see, Victor said the words that destroyed six years in a single breath:
"You really think I'd make a blind human my Luna?"
He never mourned her eyes. He was counting the days to throw her away.
So Ava took off her dark glasses. She let them see her eyes—clear, healed, blazing. She beat the cheating pair bloody, accepted Victor's rejection to his stunned face, and walked out with nothing but the ruins of her old life.
She thought that was rock bottom.
She was wrong.
That very night, a man knocked on her door. Taller than Victor. Colder. Infinitely more powerful. The Alpha King himself—Damon Sterling. Victor's own father.
He didn't come to clean up his son's mess. He came with a contract.
"Be my Luna. Money, protection, and every ounce of revenge you could dream of. All you have to do is say yes."
Ava signed.
She told herself it was just a deal. Just business.
She had no idea the Alpha King had been watching her for six years—or that saying yes had just rewritten her fate.
Her mate discarded her. The King would bring the whole world to its knees for her.

My name is Mira. I am the princess of the Nightwood Pack, yet I live like a slave.

Everyone believes I am the cause of my mother’s death. My father, the Alpha, hates me for it. While my twin sister is loved, cherished, and treated like a princess, I am punished, humiliated, and forced to suffer in my own father’s house.

On the night of our eighteenth birthday, Alphas from different packs arrived to celebrate the Blood Moon Festival. That was the night I found my mate, Ashur, the strongest Alpha ever known. I was finally happy. I believed my suffering was over.

That same night, I gave myself to him, and we shared a one-night bond.

But by morning, everything changed.

After my father filled Asher’s ears with lies, calling me a curse, Asher rejected me publicly before the entire pack. As if that pain wasn’t enough, he chose my twin sister as his Luna and left me shattered.

Weeks later, I discovered I was pregnant with Asher’s child.

Then an old wizard appeared with a terrifying prophecy:
The child growing inside me would one day kill my sister, and to stop the prophecy from coming true, I must be killed.

Rule number one: Never fall for the Hockey Alpha.

That was the plan.

Ninety days.
One fake relationship.
No feelings.

I’m a fallen Crescent Moon princess turned scholarship boxer, fighting to save my sick brother while uncovering the truth behind my father’s disappearance.

Luca Silver is the hockey captain, the future Alpha, and the heir to the family I’ve spent years blaming for my downfall.

When a scandal threatens his reputation, he needs a fake girlfriend. I need money and answers.

So we make a deal.

No real kisses.
No emotions.
No falling in love.

Except Luca isn’t just my fake boyfriend.

He’s my roommate.
My enemy.
And my fated mate.

When our bond awakens, the lines between hate and desire begin to blur. But as dark secrets from the past resurface and rival packs close in, I discover my father’s disappearance was never an accident.

The Silver family may not be my enemy.

And falling for my enemy might be the choice that starts a war.

My mother was a lot of things but I never knew she would dare leave her Billionaire husband on the Alter stranded.

My soon to be step-father was a lot of things, but he wasn't one to accept humiliation. And for that reason he made me Amelia, the daughter of my runaway mother to take her place on the alter.

"Damien... Damien is cheating on me with Selene." Relief washed over me when I saw my parents coming.
Yet neither of my parents looked surprised. My relief disappeared. "You... you all knew?"
"Aurelia..." My mother started.
"Enough!" Damien snapped. "I don't want you anymore, okay?"
Selene purred, stepping up beside him and wrapping her arm intimately around his waist.
"This is unjust. We are betrothed by pack decree. I am going to expose you both to the entire pack!"
"There will be no need for all of that," my father cut me off.
I froze. "Dad?"
"Damien has made his choice. He is the future Alpha of the Crimson Fang Pack, Aurelia. He has the ultimate right to decide who stands beside him as Luna."
I stood alone in the center of the room, surrounded by my family and the man who was supposed to become my mate.
Turning on my heel, I bolted down the hallway toward my bedroom while my parents ran after me.
"Aurelia, wait. Sweetheart, please, just stop for a moment," my mother said.
"We didn't want to hurt you," my father said. "But I have to think about this family's future. Whichever daughter Damien marries, our family benefits."
I looked at them until my mother offered a hopeful smile.
"Besides, this might actually be a blessing in disguise for you, Aurelia. You're getting old, and without a wolf, your options are limited."
My eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"
"We actually have a wonderful suitor in mind for you. He's a respectable man. It would be best if we announced your engagement immediately," my father chimed in seamlessly.
They didn't care about my feelings, nor were they trying to comfort me. They were terrified of the scandal.
If Damien broke off his engagement with me to marry my younger sister, the pack elders would view it as a dishonorable scandal.
"No way. I am not marrying anyone to save face for Damien and Selene. I'm leaving."
"You can't refuse, Aurelia," I heard my father say.
"The contract has already been signed."
I thought catching my mate in bed with my sister was the worst thing that could happen to me.
Apparently, I had underestimated how creative my family could be.

Six months after watching my mother murder my father, she took the last thing I had left—my boyfriend and f**ked him right before me beneath my dead father’s photo frame.

She pushed me out, and I ran straight into the arms of Hockey Coach Jethro Meyers.

Ruthless and dangerously attractive, the moment our bodies collided on the ice, the mate bond snapped into place with violent force.

But he shoved me away. “Leave before I hurt you, Cross.”

I thought that was the end of it.

Until my mother came again, this time with an announcement—she’s getting married.

To who?

“Jethro Meyers, my childhood best friend,” was her reply.

Now I was doomed to live under the same roof as my mate while he prepared to become my stepfather.

But there was no way I would let the marriage happen after everything she had done to me.

The moment I got into Jethro’s locker room and caught him naked, I dropped to my knees and whispered, “I’m yours now, Coach Daddy.”

I expected him to push me away.

Instead, he looked at me like a starving wolf who had finally found his mate.

And we were only getting started.

“Your place has always been beside me.”

Mara believed those words until she realized she was the only one still fighting for their marriage.

Betrayed by her Alpha husband Damon and abandoned during the moment she needed him most, Mara loses her child, her trust, and the future she once dreamed of.

But the fire that destroyed her old life also awakened a new one.

Saved by Ronan Vale, the mysterious and commanding Lycan King, Mara discovers a world where she doesn’t have to beg for love or prove her worth.

Ronan protects her, respects her, and sees the power she has always carried inside.

Now Damon wants back the Luna he once ignored.

But some wounds cannot be healed with apologies.

And when the truth behind that tragic night begins to surface, Mara must decide whether she will remain the abandoned Luna of the past...

Or become the queen she was always meant to be.

Rachel Green thought she had left her tumultuous past behind. After a bitter divorce from her billionaire husband, Alexander Sterling, she moved to a small town, where she rebuilt her life with her young son, Odegaard—a child Alexander doesn’t know exists. For years, Rachel has lived peacefully, focusing on her son and her career, until fate pulls her back into Alexander’s orbit.

Alexander’s empire is crumbling. His once-thriving marriage to his new wife, Victoria, is on the verge of collapse. Desperate to salvage his failing business, he discovers a shocking secret: Rachel’s new start was funded by a rival CEO, Daniel Kane, Alexander’s sworn enemy.

When Alexander confronts Rachel, his initial anger turns into confusion as buried feelings resurface. He’s determined to win her back, but Rachel is no longer the woman he once knew. Stronger and wiser, she has no intention of being hurt again.

As the sparks between them reignite, Rachel’s secret threatens to unravel everything. Odegaard is Alexander’s son, and Victoria is not willing to let Alexander go without a fight. Meanwhile, Daniel sees Rachel as more than just an ally—he’s fallen for her and is ready to do whatever it takes to keep her by his side.

For three years, I was Adrian Vale's kept woman.
Pretty, useless, and so thoroughly spoiled that even his sister said I wouldn't survive three days without the Vales. I didn't bother arguing. Before I met Adrian, I'd been chair of the Global Financial Order Council. That job had nearly worked me to death. Now I didn't have to set an alarm or use my brain, and my monthly allowance ran to eight figures. Who in her right mind would give that up?
Then twelve overseas funds joined forces to short Vale Group. Adrian's father was forced out. His two older brothers were taken into custody. And Adrian, who had always been able to fix anything, found himself at a negotiating table with a pen pressed into his hand and a demand to surrender every share he owned.
One of the fund managers across the table looked me over and smiled. "Don't worry, Mr. Vale. Once your family’s bankrupt, we’ll take good care of your little songbird."
I was quiet for a long moment. If the Vales went under, where was I supposed to find another man this generous?
So just as Adrian was about to sign, I took the seat at the head of the table and called a number I hadn't used in ten years.
"Halt trading across the European markets. And tell the heads of these twelve funds to get here within thirty minutes and explain themselves—on their knees."

In a zombie apocalypse, survivors build a fortress-like base. My girlfriend and I are its lead researchers, racing to create the serum that could end the world’s collapse.

On a sampling run outside the walls, she chooses to save the “genius” colleague she just brought back—and leaves me behind to be swallowed by a horde.

With no way out, I inject myself with an unfinished prototype. I survive… but I come back as a zombie.

The difference is: I don’t lose my mind. I keep my human intelligence—and I can command other zombies. They bow instinctively, as if they’ve sensed a king.

Inside the base, that so-called genius is working with raiders beyond the walls, pushing a fake serum to control the troops and selling the defenses piece by piece to the enemy.

As the base collapses, the drugged soldiers turn on each other atop the ramparts. The chain of command snaps. Everyone is waiting to die.

Then—at the moment the walls give way and screams drown out gunfire—I stand on the ruins outside, raise my hand, and sweep it forward.

The horde behind me doesn’t attack the survivors. Like a disciplined army, it bypasses them and surgically crushes every invader.

Only then does the woman who abandoned me realize what she destroyed.

But I don’t need her regret anymore.

Four years ago, I left on a top-secret mission, and everyone assumed I was dead.

Four years later, I returned expecting a joyful homecoming, only to be struck by a devastating nightmare: three years ago, a local cartel hanged my wife from the rafters, and my ten-year-old son was locked in a cellar, suffering unimaginable abuse.

Right now, in a local dive bar, my enemies have a gun pressed to my head. They’re laughing, mocking me, thinking I'm just some washed-up, helpless veteran they can easily crush.

But what they don't know is that just ten minutes ago, I severed the only fiber-optic cable connecting this town to the outside world.

The hunt has officially begun...

The day I achieved telepathic breakthrough, I heard my fiancée's inner voice telling me to "get lost."
In the restaurant, she abandoned me as I coughed up blood to embrace another man.
I signed the death contract for the meat grinder frontline, determined to die, but when bone spikes pierced through my chest, my telepathy revealed the truth—she pushed me away not because she didn't love me, but because she had been bitten by a zombie three years ago.

On the third day after the Ice Age began on Earth, the temperature plummeted to minus fifty degrees Celsius, and human civilization disintegrated in the extreme cold.

My name is Anson, an ordinary convenience store clerk. After the apocalypse broke out, I risked my life to drive to pick up my mother-in-law Martha and her family and take them to a shelter.

Along the way, I unexpectedly discovered a large supermarket with abundant supplies, and I collected supplies with my wife Erin, mother-in-law Martha, father-in-law George, and brother-in-law Tom.

Just as we were about to leave with two trucks full of life-saving supplies, my mother-in-law, Martha, tricked me into going deep into the warehouse to move some goods. Then they locked the iron gate and drove away, leaving me to die in the supermarket surrounded by icy beasts.

In that moment of despair and waiting for death, the [Ice Fishing System] activated in my mind...

I barely spoke a word before I turned six. Behind our backs, he townsfolk whispered that some foul thing had sealed my tongue.
The first time I truly spoke, I was pointing at our neighbor, Emily.
She was flying a kite just outside our fence. Floating right above her head was a stark, blood-red number.
"Three."
My mom poked her head out of the kitchen, asking if I had just spoken.
I nodded and pointed at Emily again.
By the time they looked, the girl had already run off.
Three days later, Emily was struck and killed by a turning delivery truck at the corner of our street.
After the funeral, my parents held me tight and swore it was just a coincidence.
The second time was when my grandmother, Eleanor Hart, was hospitalized for a stroke.
Dr. Grant took off his glasses, his tone brutally calm. "She is in terrible shape. The family needs to prepare for the worst."
I stood at the end of the hallway. Above my grandmother's head, the number flickered like a slow-burning fire.
"Two hundred and forty."
Claire clamped her hand over my mouth.
Daniel went pale. He knelt down, his voice a harsh hiss. "Sophie, shut up! You cannot say things like that out loud."
Grandmother did not die that night.
After being brought home, she miraculously began to recover. She even spent her afternoons listening to the radio in the sun.
Until the two-hundred-and-fortieth day. She passed away in her sleep.
That was when my family finally understood exactly what my numbers meant.

Six months ago, a yacht explosion consumed everyone I loved: my husband Leonard, my parents, and my brother.
I escaped only because of stomach pain that kept me from boarding. My adopted sister Claire became the sole survivor.
Since then, I've become an empty shell.
Even after being diagnosed with terminal uterine cancer, even while carrying my late husband's child, I've endured the agony of chemotherapy alone, exhausting what little strength remains to scrape together money for Claire—who hides away in a private care facility, claiming severe PTSD.
Until this winter day, with a blizzard approaching.
Dragging my dying body to my husband's memorial to pay respects, I discovered a credit card statement—charges made three months after his death.
Following the address on that receipt, I pushed open the door of a luxurious suburban villa.
Inside, it was warm as spring. My parents and brother, who should have been at the bottom of the ocean, stood there perfectly alive.
At the center of the room, my husband—the man I'd grieved for day and night—was kissing my adopted sister, his lips tender against hers.
The whole family was celebrating, raising glasses to toast the infant cradled in Claire's arms—barely a month old.
There had never been any disaster at sea.
It was all a meticulously planned hoax—their twisted way to erase me from their lives forever.

"She endured hardships with you back then just for your current net worth of a billion dollars. You must use the absolute 50/50 treatment to cure the 'poverty disease' in her bones."

After my husband's childhood friend Chloe returned from abroad, she brainwashed my husband, Ethan.

From then on, he demanded we split everything 50/50. Whether it was eating, sleeping, or doing household chores, even though I was pregnant, I had to pay half the cost.

Until one day I was hit by a car. Blood from a threatened miscarriage dripped all over the emergency room. The nurse held the bill, urging urgently: "Twenty thousand deposit to save the baby! Any slower and you'll miscarry!"

Ethan took out a black card, his voice ice-cold: "According to our 50/50 rule, I'm only paying my ten thousand."

I didn't cry or make a fuss. I simply took the ten thousand he gave me and got an abortion.