4823 Book(s) Related to no escape from my ruthless alpha penelope

I've married sixteen dead men for a living. My seventeenth husband just opened his eyes.
I was born knowing one thing: the dead can speak one last time — but only to a spouse.
So I marry dead men. Rich families pay me to wed their fresh corpses, carry the last words sealed inside me, and read the testament out before the heirs. Then I burn the marriage certificate, and the marriage ends at the grave. Starting price: six hundred thousand dollars.
This morning, the Crane heir drowned in his own pool. Twenty-eight, obscenely rich, not one word left behind. The family offered five million and a private jet. By my count — my seventeenth husband. By a wide margin, the handsomest.
I said "I do" to a corpse for the seventeenth time. Then I called for his last words.
Silence. Sixteen weddings, sixteen voices. Husband number seventeen had nothing to say.
Because my seventeenth husband just opened his eyes.

I lent my Bugatti to my secret boyfriend for clout. He repaid my trust by gifting my car to a scheming cheerleader, letting her publicly humiliate and frame me. The whole school mocked me as a poor garage keeper’s daughter, unaware I’m the hidden billionaire heiress behind the supercar. Now I’ll destroy his fake rich life and avenge every insult.

For three years, I deliberately suppressed my grades to rank under my boyfriend William, paving his way to our promised Cambridge exchange. I overheard him and my best friend Maddie confess they framed me for plagiarism in my past life, driving me to jump off the 38th floor, yet they still carried on an affair. They lied and ignored my pain afterward. Heartbroken, I secretly applied to Cambridge alone. The twist? My years of hiding my brilliance were never selfless sacrifice. I collected all their dirty secrets. I’m going to Cambridge not to flee, but to ruin every dream they cling to.

The remote vacation villa was saturated with suffocating male testosterone.
Deep in the night, my life-saving suppressants inexplicably vanished. The moment the drugs wore off, my unspeakable secret—my sex addiction—unleashed its most violent, lethal backlash in history.
What was even more fatal was that, through a twisted twist of fate, the man I was forced to share a room with tonight was my stepbrother, renowned for his absolute abstinence and cold, iron-fisted ruthlessness.
I thought that once my embarrassingly out-of-control, in-heat state was exposed, he would treat me like a monster and kick me away in disgust.
But I never expected—
This aloof man, who usually wouldn't even spare me a glance, now carried an irresistible, scorching aggression, ruthlessly sliding his large, rough hand straight up my thoroughly soaked panties...

My husband thinks a "tragic surgical accident" left me completely blind. Now, he's moved his mistress right into our house to be my nurse. They openly whisper about my life insurance while preparing my afternoon tea. They think a blind wife is the perfect prey. But are they sure I'm in the dark?

Cancer was supposed to be my death sentence. Instead, it became my liberation.

I thought I had it all—wealth, status, a picture-perfect life in Greenwich's elite circles. Then came the diagnosis that would change everything: six months to live. But facing my final chapter, I uncovered a truth more devastating than any terminal illness—the man sleeping beside me was slowly killing my soul.

When you have nothing left to lose, you discover exactly how powerful you can become.

My husband's first love, Celine, lured me to a remote cabin under the guise of an "apology."
 
She then poured gasoline all over the porch and locked the door from the outside.
 
In my past life, the moment the fire began to spread, I desperately called my husband, Julian—a fire captain—for rescue.
 
He smashed the door open and saved me.
 
Ironically, Celine's scheme backfired, and she died of smoke inhalation outside.
 
Yet, Julian pinned her blood debt entirely on me.
 
He kept me at the hospital with his hypocritical comfort, only to tear off his disguise the day I was discharged. He tied me to a pillar in an abandoned warehouse and poured gasoline at my feet.
 
As the flames ignited, my ten-week-old unborn child and I were swallowed by the raging fire.
 
Julian's eyes were bloodshot. Facing my agonizing screams, his gaze held nothing but pure, unadulterated hatred:
 
"If you hadn't gone mad with jealousy and locked the door from the inside, Celine would never have died! Stop playing the victim!"
 
"The pain she suffered before she died... I'm going to make you pay for it ten times, a hundred times over!"
 
In the blazing light, he watched coldly as I was burned alive, turning into a charred corpse.
 
When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the exact moment the fire started to spread.

My brother's first day on the job, and the new intern, Ashley Pratt, accuses him of trying something with her in the break room.

In my last life, I panicked under all those judging stares and my father screaming at me over the phone. I grabbed my brother by the shoulder and forced him to bow and apologize to her, tried to pay her off to make it go away.

She turned around and leaked the wire transfer online instead, twisted it into a story about rich people paying to buy back their good name. The backlash spiraled out of control. My brother couldn't take the flood of hate anymore and jumped from the roof. He hit the ground and there was nothing left of him to recognize.

My father used my failure to handle it as an excuse to push me off the board. I ended up watching the woman responsible climb over my brother's grave and take the CEO seat at Merritt Industries.

Fate is giving me a second shot.

My brother reaches for me, eyes rimmed red. "Camille, I swear I didn't do anything."

I pull him behind me and look down at the woman crying on the floor.

"She's saying you assaulted her? Fine. Let's call the cops."

At the annual charity gala, I stood in the spotlight as the student representative.

My roommate, Harper, suddenly stormed the stage, publicly accusing me of being a sugar baby who seduced her father.

"That diamond necklace around her neck was bought with my dad's money!"

I instantly became public enemy number one. The crowd erupted into a frenzy of boos, and the administration, caving to the pressure, prepared to expel me on the spot.

Facing the out-of-control screaming and the countless live-stream cameras shoved in my face, I pulled out my phone and dialed the so-called "sugar daddy" right there in front of everyone.

"Dad," I said coldly. "Since when did I get a new 'sister'?"

The day I secured the finale at New York Fashion Week, my adopted sister was in a car crash that left her completely blind.
And so began a ruthless campaign to destroy my life.
Listening to me prepare for the runway, she touched her heavy gauze bandages and wept bitterly. "You're so brilliant, Valora. Not like me... I'm just a useless, blind burden."
To placate her, our brother burned my core design sketches to ashes.
On the day of the show, my finale haute couture gown was maliciously slashed to ribbons. My reputation was left in ruins, and every single sponsor pulled their funding.
Later, she live-streamed her suicide attempt from a rooftop, sobbing that a disabled girl like her didn't deserve to be loved.
My husband dropped to one knee in front of the entire world and slipped the custom diamond ring—my ring—onto her finger.
That very night, I was dead-bolted inside my roaring, fire-engulfed studio.
With toxic smoke searing my lungs, I dialed my husband's number for help, only to be met with his frustrated, impatient voice:
"Serafina is blind! The fire alarms have her terrified! Stop being so damn petty and jealous right now!"
When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of her accident. The day she faked her blindness.

Not long ago, my pregnant daughter was murdered, and the killer remained at large.
Until that day, as I stood before her grave, her husband Oliver asked me,
"Mom, do you know who Robin is?"
"Stella came back from her prenatal checkup one day and said she bumped into Robin," he choked out. "She even said she wanted to take the baby to visit him."
My hand, reaching out to comfort him, froze in mid-air.
Because Robin was no good man—he had once tried to harm Stella.
That name was her lifelong nightmare. She wouldn't even dare look at a picture of a robin in a book.
And that name was a secret known only to me and my late husband.
So... who exactly is lying?

My family ignored my calls while I was dying in our basement. They thought I was trying to ruin my younger sister's graduation.
That night, my brother finally came looking for me. My sister wanted the cookies I used to bake for her.
I was right beside him when he demanded that I come home.
He couldn't hear me. My body was still downstairs.

On our fifth anniversary, Caspian gifted me a luxury yacht bearing my name. Everyone said I was the luckiest woman alive.
But when I finally conceived his child and prepared to share the news, his mistress sent me photos—him cradling a baby she'd given him, his eyes filled with a tenderness I'd never seen.
Five years of waiting, five years of infertility—all an elaborate lie.
He once whispered in my ear: "Even if every man in the world betrays his wife, I never will. You're my life. Without you, I can't survive."
I quietly packed, left behind my pregnancy report and all the evidence, and drove away. Three hours later, he received the call: my car exploded on the highway. No survivors.
From that day on, the most powerful man in Valen City lost his mind completely.

"The Draganovs are moving on Celeste tonight. I'm taking her to the safe house. We'll do the claiming after this, Orla. I promise."
That's what my husband said the seventh time he chose Celeste over me.
Celeste. The girl he'd loved since before he had a wife to ignore.
The first time, she heard footsteps outside her window at two in the morning. Rafael sent his whole detail to sit on her house and left me at a meeting with two men who wanted our shipping routes and didn't like being told no. I came home with a bullet crease across my ribs. He apologized for a week.
The third time, someone tipped the cops on one of our warehouses and she got scared. He drove her upstate himself. I took a knife at the door because there was no one left standing in front of me.
By the sixth time, he didn't explain. He just texted the doctor to be ready for me and left.
He's a Don. When the guns come out, he walks away clean. I'm the one wearing his name where everyone can see it. The one they aim at first. Six scars say so.
Every time, he held my face after and promised. Founders' Day. In front of every family in the city. Once Celeste was safe. I believed him six times.
So when the seventh time came and he chose her again, my bags were already packed.
There won't be an eighth time he sends me out to die for her. Next time, there won't be a wife left for him to send.

I was reborn on the day my baby was murdered, and the first thing I did was send my son away from the Hale estate. When I returned to the party, a black stroller was floating in the pool. Everyone thought the dead child was mine. They told me I could have another baby while they protected the ten-year-old girl who had pushed the stroller in. Then my father arrived with my living son in his arms, and the child dragged from the trash compactor turned out to be the killer’s own baby brother.

For the tenth time, James Smith left me behind because of a call from his female student.
But it was as if I had become a different person—I no longer doubted that there was something ambiguous between James and his student.
Even on our wedding anniversary, when he abandoned me in the remote mountains for Sophia's sake, I bore no resentment.
Eventually, James began to sense something.
"Emily, you seem different," he said.
I shook my head with a smile.
Because I had simply made a different choice from the one in my past life.

I took a bullet for my husband five years ago. He married me in the ICU before the anesthesia wore off.
Raffaele Santoro—heir to the most powerful mafia family in Italy—told me I was his everything. He bought a castle and named it after me. He reserved a grave beside his parents so we'd lie together for eternity.
While I was pumping my body full of hormones for our fourth round of IVF, he was across town watching his childhood sweetheart give birth to twin boys.
He named one of them Dante—the name I'd chosen for our future son.
The night I found out, I was seven weeks pregnant with his child.
I didn't tell him.
I called my best friend and said: I need everyone to think I'm dead.

Six weeks after his girlfriend had twins, my husband got himself fixed. He billed it to my insurance.
Then he spent nine years driving me to fertility clinics. Two surgeries. Four rounds of shots. He held my hand every time and told me next time.
The whole town said it was my fault. His mother asked me every Sunday if there was any news.
I died at forty-four. Three days before the end I couldn't open my eyes, but I could hear them over my bed. The girl I bought a purple bicycle for called him Dad.
Then I opened my eyes and I was thirty-four again, on a gurney, waiting for them to open me up one more time.
Last time I lay back down and let them do it. I did it three more times after that.
This time he's paying me back for all nine years, one line at a time.
The nurse asked me to confirm my date of birth. I did. Then I told her I wasn't doing it.

The stepbrother I grew up with was a golden boy, a star varsity quarterback everyone had high hopes for.
But for a street-level delinquent, he abandoned his Ivy League future.
Desperate to pull his life back on track, I tried to expose his toxic girlfriend.
Yet, he hated me to the bone for it.
For her, he ruthlessly dragged our family into the crossfire of a deadly gang dispute, causing us all to meet a violent, tragic end.
I never expected fate to rewind the clock.
To give me a second chance.

I spent three hundred years winning Varen Ashworth's war. Bled for him. Handed him my army, my secrets, the healing blood from my own chest. He'd be nothing without me.
On his coronation day, he announced his queen—and it wasn't me. It was Elara. Some trembling, doe-eyed girl he'd pulled out of a Demon camp. He told me I could stay on as her handmaid.
I laughed, voided the contract, and walked out.
Because I've lived this life before. Last time, I exposed Elara. Saved his throne. He thanked me—then slaughtered my entire bloodline.
This time, I'm not saving anyone.
This time, I'll watch him figure out exactly what kind of woman he picked over me. And when his whole world comes apart—he'll be on his knees, begging the one person who could've stopped it.
I won't be listening.

After the crash, my husband, Darius, lost his ability to speak. The trauma to his cervical spine left him unable to even lift a finger.
The doctors said his only remaining way to communicate was to nod, or to shake his head.
Sitting by his hospital bed, I finally asked the question that had been eating away at me for three months.
"When the crash happened... were you on your way to see your mistress?"
Darius stared dead at me. Then, slowly, he nodded.

I was just on the phone with my husband. He was stuck in traffic, apologizing for being late to our anniversary dinner. Forty minutes later, detectives are at my door, claiming he died in a crash three days ago. If Silas is dead, who just sent me a text?

At my boyfriend's exhibition party, I went into anaphylactic shock after eating the cake Mia handed me.
I stumbled, reaching for my EpiPen, only for Mia to snatch it out of my hand and crush it under her heel.
"Give... it back..." I choked out, grabbing onto my boyfriend's arm.
He just shook me off, disgusted. "Chloe, can you stop being so dramatic? It's not that big a deal."
"Yeah, Mia's basically family," one of his friends chimed in. "You're being way too jealous and controlling."
Nobody was listening to me anymore.
With the last of my strength, I pressed down on the hidden button on the side of my watch — the one I'd never had to use before.

At last season's Grand Olfactory Gala, Vivienne Harrow presented my formula before I could reach the stage.
I confronted her. She asked where my proof was.
I had nothing. The formula had never left my head — no notes, no records, nothing. I didn't know how she'd gotten it.
I died not knowing.
Then I opened my eyes, and she was already reaching for me.
"Not this time."
I stepped back.

In my last life, I was the one who stopped it.
The second I recognized what was in that cup—a cold medicine loaded with compounds that end any pilot's career on contact with a drug screening—I knocked it out of Ivy's hands. Reid shoved me so hard I hit the coffee table. He got his four stripes anyway. Then he publicly destroyed my reputation, stood by while his fans harassed me off the internet, and smiled when I was pushed down a flight of stairs.
I died knowing he never looked back.
This time, I come back as myself: senior aviation medical officer, five years into a relationship with a man I now see clearly. When Ivy holds out that same cup with that same bright smile, I already know exactly what's in it.
I take a step back.
"Drink it while it's hot," I tell him. "Don't leave a drop."
I spent one lifetime being everyone's safety net. Not this time.

My two best friends killed me over a girl who'd been dead six months.
Lila Bishop never got a single offer. So she cried and clung until Cole and Wes were ready to throw away their full rides and follow her to nowhere. I tried to stop them — they called me jealous and cut me off. So I went over their heads. I called their moms. I fixed their signing papers myself, the night before the deadline.
Six months later Lila was gone, and they blamed me. They dragged me to the roof of our gym and threw me off.
Then I opened my eyes — three months back, the day it all started.
Last time, I broke myself trying to save them.
This time, I'd let them jump.

I'm just a stay-at-home mom. Old T-shirt, secondhand car, nobody ever looks at me twice.
At the school fundraiser, my husband's mistress put a peanut in my seven-year-old's mouth. He's severely allergic. As he choked on the grass, she crushed my hand under her heel and kicked his EpiPen straight into the lake.
"One worthless little life," she said. "So what if it's gone."
She's wearing my clothes. My jewelry. Spending my money. She calls me trash in front of the whole school and threatens to have my legs broken.
She thinks she's untouchable, because she's the wife of a Wall Street golden boy.
What she doesn't know is that every dollar he has, every thread she's wearing, even the air she's breathing — all of it belongs to me.
I walked away from that world to raise my son in peace.
She just gave me a reason to come back.

Three years ago, my fiance Marco Ferrante walked out on our engagement for his mistress Vivienne Salas — and now they're both back, kicking in my door and screaming that my baby isn't his.
He's right. It's not his.
It belongs to the most dangerous man in Verrano.
And Marco just put his boot through the Devil's only heir.

After I took in my first love, she promised she'd always be good to me.
But after my mother died in a car accident, I found her in our home—with another man.
She told everyone Colin was her true love, that I was just a little brother she never wanted, and that I was the one who couldn't let go.
Everyone turned against me. My father had a stroke from the rage. Colin even had someone run me over—cost me an eye.
Seven years later.
I stood outside a convenience store holding flowers when I saw them.
Audrey's daughter looked at me with pity. "Mom, that man only has one eye... Is he selling flowers? Should we buy some?"

My brother Adrian said I was the one person who could make him drop everything.
I believed him—until his girlfriend came to our house.
She waited for Adrian to leave the room. Then she grabbed my chin, accused me of stealing her boyfriend, and slapped me across the face.
I was only three. She still warned me not to tell.
When Adrian returned, she smiled and said I had fallen.
But the red fingerprints on my cheek told a different story.
So did the camera above us.

I took the blame for my wife and went to jail, thinking I was protecting our family.

Five years later, when I was released from prison, my mansion was confiscated, my company fell into the hands of my younger brother, and the woman I loved with all my heart was nestled in my brother's arms, mocking my misfortune.

They had been having an affair for a long time, and even my imprisonment was a conspiracy meticulously planned by this despicable couple! What makes me even more furious is that my precious daughter was abandoned on the street like a stray dog, and subjected to beatings and bullying by their illegitimate son .

They thought that by draining my blood, they could forever condemn me to oblivion.

But they forgot that I was once an unparalleled genius in the business world.

Perry Lake never believed in fate, especially not when it came to love. To take revenge on her cold, power-hungry father, she broke off her engagement to Richard Scott, the ruthless Alpha of the feared Bloodmoon Pack. Walking away from that world should have meant freedom.

But one impulsive night changes everything.

Perry walked into Richard's room to end things. She never expected to end up in the bed of a stranger—an Alpha who overwhelmed her senses. Even worse, the Moon Goddess has bound them as fated mates.

Now, torn between the desire to escape and the pull of a bond she can't deny, Perry must face a destiny she never wanted—with the man she tried hardest to forget. But can love bloom where betrayal and secrets still linger?

I gave him three years of silent devotion behind a mask I never wanted to wear. I made a wager for our bond—he paid me off like a mistress.
"Chloe's back," Zane said coldly. "It's over."
I laughed, poured wine on his face, and walked away from the only love I'd ever known.
"What now?" my best friend asked.
I smiled. "The real me returns."
But fate wasn't finished yet.
That same night, Caesar Conrad—the Alpha every wolf feared—opened his car door and whispered, "Get in."
Our gazes collided. The bond awakened. No games. No pretending. Just raw, unstoppable power.
"Don't regret this," he warned, lips brushing mine.
But I didn't.
Because the mate I'd been chasing never saw me.
And the one who did?
He's ready to burn the world for me.

For six years, Cassandra poured her heart into raising her husband’s son, Rowan. Her world shatters when his first love, Nadia, returns and is revealed as Rowan's biological mother.
Her Alpha husband blatantly sleeps with Nadia in their marital bed and ruthlessly severs his mate bond with Cassandra.
Stripped of her Luna title, she is publicly humiliated as her husband declares, "My son doesn't need a murderer for a mother."

Even worse, the six-year-old boy she saved completely rejects her. Shouting, "You're not my mom," he ignores her heavy chains and desperate pleas, running to hug Nadia instead.
Banished and disgraced, Cassandra barely survives a fatal car crash, only to discover she is carrying her traitorous ex-husband's child.

Five years later, she rises from the ashes as the elite physician, "Dr. Frost." When the once-arrogant Alpha is poisoned and dying, he begs for her help and forgiveness. But she simply turns and walks away.

How will Cassandra exact her ultimate revenge? And when their five-year-old daughter is struck by a severe illness, will this tragic twist force a turning point in their deadly entanglement?

I was completely naked on the Vincent's lap, his cold hands steady on my waist while both of them fed me. It was erotic, and my heat made things worse. Klayton suddenly picked a dark cherry from the table. His eyes never left mine as he slowly pushed it between my legs, forcing the cold fruit into my already dripping pussy. He fucked me with it — in and out — until the cherry was warm and soaked. Then he pulled it out, brought it to his mouth, and bit down, juice running down his chin.

“Hmm.. Delicious,” he growled.
The sound went straight to my core.
I couldn’t take it anymore, I rushed to his waiting cock like the needy slut they'd turned me into.


Raven never planned to become addicted to the Rogue Alpha’s knot. She only chained him down that night because he was poisoned and feral. She rode his cock until he locked deep inside her and made her sees stars because the money would save her sister. And help her find her mother. She didn’t expect her body to start craving him. Or the sudden monthly heats that made her thighs slick. Nor strength that made her dangerous sometimes. But the absence of it in her for a long time always made her sick and slowly, she was becoming an addict to everything Klayton, the rogue Alpha. Things took a darker turn when Vampire King to taste her blood… and become just as obsessed. Now she’s caught between two dangerous men who both want to own her.

Worse? Both of them are willing to share her body — as long as they get to pump her full of beastly cum. The same beasts that destroyed the world as it once was.

Until she gets pregnant. That's when truths begin to unravel.
She realises she's not a powerless human playing victim in the game of beasts. She's a demon, a tool of revenge by an ancient power. She's the catalyst that will either bring an end to this war, or destroy the world in her wake.

What happens when the victim becomes the queen of terror and nightmares?

Everything she believed in was a lie.
Keira and Alden were Chosen Mates who built the powerful Stormfang Pack together—until she discovered their Mate Bond was a witch's illusion, and the child she raised was actually his with his true Fated Mate, the Omega Rena.
Broken and ready to leave, a secret letter reveals she is the long-lost daughter of Mooncrest Pack's Alpha, the sole heir to a legacy she never knew.
As her dormant Alpha blood awakens in rage, she vows to reclaim her birthright.
But when Kaelan, the cold and calculating Alpha King, approaches her and claims, "You are my Fated Mate," Keira is thrown into deeper confusion.
Why would he say that? And in a world built on deception, can a bond that begins as strategy ever become real… or is it just another layer of the game?

(From 'When His Wolves Sing' comes another epic tale)

"What Is Fate, Alpha Of Alphas?"

Fate:

In the heart of the training grounds, the Alpha of all Alphas stood, his presence commanding and his aura crackling with electricity. With his black hair billowing behind him like a cape, he fixated on a mysterious figure that materialized before him. As his eyes transformed, reflecting the colors of his father's Wolves, his Beta's urgent question fell on deaf ears. Without hesitation, he aimed his wolfsbane arrow at the target, his wolf battling for control. Against the pleas of his inner beast, he released the arrow, piercing the heart of his prey. The aftermath left him shattered, consumed by guilt and sorrow.

But Fate had more in store for him.

As he knelt, broken and weeping, his Lycan roared within him, demanding answers. The Alpha Of Alphas, rising to his feet, faced the lifeless form before him. Tears streaming down his face, he addressed his Beta, speaking softly of the cruel twist of fate that had befallen him. Forty years without a mate, only to be granted one by the Luna Goddess herself-a fierce Tiger, and not just any Tiger, but his sworn enemy.

And then, a voice emerged from the shadows.

A child.

Fate just got a whole lot more badass.

The night Araya was born, the Moon refused her. Marked as wolfless, mocked and forgotten, she grew up as prey in her own pack. Even her fated mate broke the bond with a smirk and left her bleeding at the border — for rogues to finish.

But they forgot one thing:
Ash remembers.
And so does the throne buried beneath it.

The forest did not devour her. It bowed.
The flame did not die. It waited.
Until, in the silence between heartbeats, something older than gods whispered:

“She is not blessed. She is not chosen. She is the reckoning the moon tried to silence.”

Now Araya walks again — no longer mortal, no longer meek. She is Hollow-Blood reborn, daughter of the fire that swallowed fate, heir to a throne no god dares name.

And fate has bound her to Dorian—Azrien—the exiled god chained to shadow and ruin. He expected to crave nothing but vengeance. Until her. Araya is the mate his immortal soul demands, the salvation he denies, and the spark that could either set him free… or burn the world to ash.

But enemies stir in silence.
Adira, the Luna who would claim the Alpha prince at any cost, forges a pact with a creature older than gods, a monster chained in rot and darkness. The price she pays will rip fate itself open.

Betrayals. Forbidden desire. Gods who bleed. Wolves who kneel.
And at the heart of it, one truth no prophecy can silence:

The gods will end.
She will not.

And the last prophecy carved into stone whispers:
“The Flame That Walks Returns.
Let the gods burn first.”

"I reject Eveline Shadowbrook as my mate. I have already chosen another mate to stand by my side." Everyone was shocked by Prince Cedric's revelation. Eveline quickly glanced to the side and saw a man with his back to the hall. She immediately recognized the scent she had sensed outside the royal hall as that of the alpha prince. Eveline, a strong and independent young woman, after offering herself as a substitute bride, faces rejection from Prince Cedric. Feeling unjustly treated, she aims to prove her worth and takes control of her destiny. Remaining true to herself, she embarks on a journey full of dangers, fighting against the oppressive monarchy of King Roderick while training with rebellious werewolves to hone her skills. As Eveline gains strength, she catches the prince's attention. She will have to overcome obstacles and make difficult choices that will determine her fate and reveal who truly rules her heart.

"What is the ultimate favoritism your partner gives you?"
On the third day after the IVF procedure, I came across this trending question on a werewolf forum.
Just as I was about to scroll past, a highly upvoted answer pierced straight through my eyes.
"I'm newly pregnant with the Alpha's cub, so I can answer this question."
"The favoritism is this: even though I’m not his official mate, he lied to the one at home—claiming she’s infertile due to health issues—just so I could conceive."
"He said: 'A human body is like a broken vessel. Only a strong she-wolf like me deserves to carry his cubs.'"
In the photo, the ruby necklace that belonged exclusively to me was hanging around her neck.
Trembling, I finished reading every word.
So this was his idea of a beautiful future—sowing his seeds in his lieutenant's bed.
So the agony of egg retrieval I endured was, in his eyes, nothing but the useless struggle of a broken vessel.
I laughed until tears fell.
Back then, I defied my father and even cut ties with my family just to marry this stray wolf.
"Ella, sooner or later, you’ll come crying back, begging for our forgiveness."
Now, it turns out I really have failed.
I pulled the IV needle from the back of my hand and dialed the number I’d blocked five years ago.
"In three days, I will return to the Hunters' Legion."

They bred me to be sold--a doll, a bargain, a tool with a crown.
When they gave me to Alric, the werewolf Alpha every soldier fears, I expected chains.
Instead, he saw me. Chose me. Made me feel, for the first time in twenty years, like I was worth something more than my price.
Then my father showed me what he truly is--eyes burning red, hands that can stop a heart between one breath and the next.
Savage. Inhuman. Utterly beyond anything I was ever prepared for.
He saved me. I don't doubt that.
But he is a wolf. I am human.
No amount of tenderness changes what lives underneath his skin--or the fact that the moon goddess never made us for each other.
He reaches for me like I'm something worth keeping.
I'm just not sure I'm brave enough to believe it.
Because what do you do when the only person who ever made you feel alive is the one person you were never meant to love?

Some call me their worst nightmare.
Most fear me. Most scream when they see me.

And I smile — because their fear is the one thing I have always trusted.

Until she came along and refused to give me either.

I am Alcander. The most feared Alpha alive. I took Jenna the way I take everything — because she is MINE to want, and wanting has always been justification enough. I did not expect her to stay herself inside a life I built to erase her. I did not expect to care.

I did not expect to lose her.

And so I raised my son in my own image — sealed against softness, armoured against love — certain I was protecting him.

Certain I was not simply passing the wound.

This is a story of cycles. Of hurt, forgiveness, love, and loss. A story that begins with the father —

and must be finished by the son.

“I, Aleron Ashclaw, reject Freya Moonfang as my Fated Mate.”

One sentence ended six years of marriage. Chained, bloodied, and banished into rogue territory, I was supposed to die quietly in the dark, the way discarded mates always do.

Instead, a stranger found me first. He had blood-red eyes and a voice like a verdict.

“My mate,” he said, before I even knew his name.

“What did you do to me?” I asked, when I woke up changed, my body no longer fully mine.

“I did what I had to do,” he said. “To save your life.”

He turned out to be the Vampire King, the very species I’d been raised my whole life to fear. Now I’m something no wolf and no vampire has ever seen before, caught between a prophecy no one will fully explain, a General determined to erase me before I become inconvenient, and a power inside me I’m only beginning to understand.

Aleron still thinks I’m his to command.

Kieran believes I’m his to protect.

I was rejected once. I refuse to be discarded twice.

She buried her name, bound her chest, and became the brother who saved her life, the same brother whose legacy she now has to carry onto the ice. The Hockey Tournament is her only chance to free her father from the prison cell he was wrongfully thrown into, and she's not about to let anyone stand in her way. Not the cold, calculating Xavier. Not the reckless, infuriating Hunter. Not even the ghosts of the girl she used to be.
But fate has a cruel sense of humor. Her new roommates are the very twins who tormented her out of her own life, the sons of the Luna who destroyed her family. Now they're sharing a dorm, competing for the same spot on the team, and slowly starting to notice that "Rhys" isn't quite who he claims to be.
Every day is a tightrope walk between exposure and survival. Every night is a battle to keep her secret, and her heart, locked down tight. Because the closer she gets to the truth about her father, the closer Xavier and Hunter get to her, and the more she realizes some walls were never built to keep everyone out.

Emily's life was shattered by the ultimate betrayal. In her past, she was a devoted sister and wife, but the flames of treachery consumed her, leaving her to die in a fire set by her own husband and sister.

However, the moon had other plans, granting her a second chance at life. Reborn on her 18th birthday, Emily awakens to the cruel truth of her sister's envy and her husband's sinister intentions. Determined to rewrite her destiny, Emily rejects her deceitful mate, only to discover her soul is intertwined with that of the enigmatic Lycan King Benson Doorson, the sworn enemy of her ex-husband.

What will Emily choose? Love or revenge?

"Do you think you'll be able to do it? You seem far too tight to take me inside you.
"Then break me, use me until my body remembers everything about you. Isn't that what you want?"
Consumed by desire and the scent of pheromones, the omegas of the Ironhowl pack find their fated mates in the most peculiar ways, falling in love with their greatest enemy, their son's best friend, or a wolf hunter.
Discover all the romance stories of each of these alphas and omegas, who will teach you that there is more than one way to love and enjoy, because between fated mates pleasure is infinite.
Join them as they discover their fated mates and their unique ways of loving them.
This is an erotic werewolf book, MxM (Boys Love), with Omegaverse (MPreg) themes, including all kinds of couples and fantasies.
Warning. This is a collection of stories featuring dark romances, forbidden acts, and lots of passion. Discretion is advised regarding the sensitive themes in this story. Suitable only for adults 18+.

Witty, self made Aurora Russet experiences a sudden life changing encounter when she wakes up one morning, surprised to find herself in a hospital bed.

To make matters worse, she gets a shocking revelation when she finds out that she was heavily pregnant, and this is odd because all she could remember is going on a trip months ago in a bid to escape the pain of catching her ex fiancé cheating on her with her best friend months ago.

Aurora is stupefied, and is even more alarmed when a beautiful dark and mysterious stranger, whose wealth and charms manage to sweep her off her feet all the time claims ownership of her pregnancy.

One chaos leads to another and so she’s therefore plunged into his world of darkness, the world of war and of blood but in the midst of it all, she finds that one thing her soul has always craved for… love.

Does it matter now that the love she wanted was being showered upon her by a creature she always feared and despised?

And what happens when Aurora finds out that she wasn’t so different from these monsters after all?

Read to find out!

On her 18th birthday, Aria Grey is humiliated and rejected by her fated mate, the cruel and powerful Alpha Dominic Blackthorn. Heartbroken and cast out, she runs—only to wake up with no memory in the Manhattan penthouse of Damien Blackthorn, Dominic’s reclusive billionaire twin no one knew existed. He's powerful. He's dangerous. And for some reason, he's claiming her as his mate.
What Aria doesn’t know is that Damien has a vendetta against his brother—and she’s the perfect pawn. But the longer Damien pretends to be her mate, the more real it becomes.
Aria starts unlocking dark memories of her past, ones that might reveal a terrifying truth: she was never supposed to be just a mate—she was bred for something much, much darker…
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