5245 Book(s) Related to one night with my alpha daddy

“Well, now you’re a widow,” he said, smearing the blood of the man I had just married across my face before pulling his hand away. “What a pity. I am going to make you my mistress too",

“And nobody runs from me, mate.”

Rachel Reizz is nobody — overweight, overlooked, and perfectly fine with that. Until she takes a job she can't afford to turn down.
Until she finds out who she's working for. Chris De Luca. Formula 1's golden boy. The most worshipped name in school. And the boy who has made her life hell since day one. The rule is simple: do the job, take the money, don't get attached.

Sienna Cole has the perfect life.

She is the girl everyone watches and nobody really knows and she has worked very hard to keep it that way.

Until Jax Reeves walks into Westfield High, He doesn't talk much neither does he even try to impress anyone. And he looks at Sienna like he can see every single thing she is hiding behind her perfect smile.

She is not interested. She says so loudly. Multiple times. To anyone who will listen.

So when her best friend Chloe asks permission to pursue him, Sienna says yes without blinking.

It is the worst decision she has ever made.

Because the moment she watches Jax look at Chloe the way Sienna secretly wanted him to look at her, something inside her snaps clean in half. Now she is lying to her boyfriend, sabotaging her best friend's relationship, and slowly falling apart in front of the only six people in the world she truly loves.

The question is will Sienna finally tell the truth before she loses everything?

She felt that he was upset so she walked over to him, but didn’t know what to do.

Jack took out the stuff inside the document folder and put it in front of Stephanie. He read, "I have asked someone to check. The baby in your belly…”

He paused on purpose and looked at her meaningfully. Catching a flash of joy in her eyes, he sneered in his heart but maintained his poker face.

"The baby’s father is Steve. DNA Comparison shows 99% match.” He finished his sentence.

The face in front of him turned pale gradually. Stephanie lifted her head and laughed as if just heard a joke. "This is impossible. I didn’t…”

Jack interrupted her without any hesitation and explained indifferently, "Oh, yes. I kept his sperm and arranged an operation for you.”

"No…That’s not possible.” She lost her voice and covered her belly with her hands. Jack, however, didn’t waver and tossed the document to her.

Stephanie took the document with her trembling hands. She examined the data carefully, trying to prove it’s fake.

After a while, she raised her head and looked at him in a forced smile. "It…it’s all fake, right? Tell me this is a joke, please…I know, this… ”

Jack remained indifferent. He looked at her mercilessly and said, "You owe him a life. The baby is the compensation.”

Mara Vale knew how to save ruined things.

Rotten silk. Smoke-stained lace. Wedding gowns torn by jealous hands or careless lovers. In the old brick shop her mother had left her, Mara could lift a century of dirt from a veil and make every hidden stitch disappear.

But on the night of her own wedding, there was nothing she could save.

Her fiance was in the hotel bridal suite with her stepsister. Her father called her ungrateful when she refused to smile through the betrayal. By midnight, Mara had lost her groom, her family, and the deed to the shop that carried her mother's name.

Then rain drove her into a garage on the wrong side of downtown, where a dangerous young mechanic caught her before she hit the concrete.

Dante Cross smelled like motor oil, wore a dirty white tank under his coveralls, and looked at Mara as if he had been waiting eight years to find her.

Everyone thought he was poor.

Everyone was wrong.

And when Mara's enemies dragged her onto a livestream and called her a thief in front of fifty thousand strangers, the man from the garage stepped between her and the slap meant to break her.

He did not ask permission.

He simply said, "Touch her again, and find out who owns this street."

I was reborn twelve hours before the anomaly occurred.

In my previous life, I died tragically in a sea of fire, unable to even protect my three-year-old daughter.

In this life, I returned from hell with the "Shadow" that rules the abyss, only to discover that the only antidote to ending the wasteland lies in my daughter's palm.

Her ex-wife, who was possessed by a monster, the greedy military, and even "myself" who went mad across parallel universes all tried to tear her apart and suck her blood.

You want to harm my daughter? Fine. Then let's see if you can withstand this all-consuming polar night!

I thought the orchestrated assault was the most profound betrayal of my life. Then, from the shadows of the wine cellar, I heard my husband and his brothers toasting to their success.
"The slow-motion capture of her climax, paired with those broken whimpers... it was cinematic perfection."
"She played her part beautifully. After all, she’s just a Valenti."
I learned the devastating truth: my agony was their scripted entertainment. My husband. The director.
He married me to claim his inheritance.
He branded me to mark his property.
He caused my miscarriage in that dungeon, coldly calling it "tidying up loose ends."
But they overlooked one ancient law—the Moretti blood oath: should the Don betray his vows, everything becomes his wife's.
Now, I stand in the penthouse of his casino.
My fingers trace the scar on my shoulder—now transformed into a dagger.
"Darling, you celebrated the anniversary of your production. My gift to you is a lifetime behind bars."
Now, the final cut is mine.

I was bought into this world. For twenty-three years, my adoptive mother swept floors, scrubbed toilets, and endured endless orders from others just to keep me alive. Then one day, I discovered she had been depositing forty-four thousand dollars into an overseas account every single year for two decades. They called it a "custody fee". When a mysterious organization showed up, slammed coins in her face and threw a contract written in blood right in front of me, I finally learned whose blood runs through my veins. From that day on, I will prove to everyone: no one shall ever hurt my family.

"What gives a scarred freak like you the right to stand next to him?"
Four years ago, a brutal attack left a hideous burn scar across the left side of my face. Ever since, I've hidden behind a black mask, fading into the darkest corners of St. Oak High. I thought if I just stayed perfectly invisible, I could survive high school in peace.
Then Michael came back.
He's the President of Model UN, an Ivy-League-bound genius, and the golden boy everyone revolves around. And me? I’m just a damaged outcast too terrified to show my own face.
The harder I pushed him away, the closer he got.
But when a video from four years ago surfaces—showing him throwing a punch just to defend me—his flawless future is suddenly on the line. That's when I knew I couldn't hide in the shadows anymore.
This time, even if it means exposing my ugliest scars to the harsh light of day, I will do whatever it takes to protect him.

I woke up back on the night Rhys’s Blood Tide Frenzy hit.
This time, I wouldn’t offer my blood to calm him. Instead, I sent an urgent Message Crystal to Seraphina—his precious white moonlight.
In my past life, I saw Rhys’s Blood Tide spiraled out of control, threatening to tear his body apart.
In my past life, when he commanded me to call Seraphina, I had let my pathetic, unrequited love blind me.
I offered my own body as the cure, desperately weaving the Origin Blood Seal with him.
Not long after, I fell pregnant with his half-blood child.
He had no choice but to plan our wedding. On the big day, Seraphina was ambushed by blood hunters.
She sent ninety-nine distress blood signals, yet he was tied up with wedding duties and never saw a single one.
After his beloved nearly died, he laid every ounce of blame on me.
When I went into labor, he locked me away in the Blood Dungeon. He drained every drop of my Origin Blood in a ritual meant to resurrect Seraphina, leaving me and our unborn baby to die in agony.
As my life slipped away, his words echoed in my ears: I’d ruined his one true love, and both me and the child deserved to perish.
When I opened my eyes again, I was right back to that night.

“Smile, Natalie,” Callum whispered before he walked onstage.

So I smiled while he thanked another woman for the crisis plan I had written. I smiled when he pinned my grandmother’s sapphire brooch to her dress. I even smiled when his message came in, canceling our nineteenth appointment at the county clerk’s office.

Then I walked out with our unsigned marriage license papers in my purse and called the one CEO he hated most.

By the time Callum realized I wasn’t waiting anymore, I had already taken my name, my work, and my future back.

My labor pains flaring violently the same day my husband’s widowed sister-in-law, Nancy, went into labor.
Nancy tricked everyone into believing I carried a girl while she bore the heir son.
Obsessed with securing the inheritance for Nancy’s fake male child, Rowdy locked me inside a hospital morgue cold storage, transferring all doctors, blood reserves and emergency gear to her VIP ward.
I knelt on icy ground, begging him to spare our baby and swore to renounce all family wealth, yet he kicked me aside and called me a greedy schemer.
His adopted sister Gina sneaked down, beat me brutally and injected a high-dose labor suppressant straight into my womb to stall my delivery.
It was only after Nancy delivered her baby that Rowdy belatedly remembered I was also stuck in labor downstairs.
Before he could head down to the basement, his panicked subordinate rushed in and cried, “Boss, Awful!—your wife and your son are died!”

Sydney is reborn on National Decision Day after being betrayed and killed by her boyfriend Carter, her childhood friend Julian, and the scheming Harper.
Determined not to be their cash cow and victim again, she uses her family’s power to expose their crimes and fake innocent personas in front of Beverly Hills elites.
Ruined and desperate, the three traitors turn on each other and die on the same rooftop where they murdered her. Sydney finally breaks free and starts a brilliant new life at Harvard.

My three-year-old daughter hides behind the sofa whenever I try to hold her now.

“Mommy is scary,” she whispers, clutching her stuffed bear like a shield.

I thought it was just a toddler’s overactive imagination.

Until I checked the camera feed in my own bedroom.

I watched a woman who looked exactly like me step out of the shadows of our antique mirror, slip into my husband’s bed, and kiss him.

The man I loved and the family I trusted became my worst nightmares. They destroyed my child and tortured me to death over a blood curse. Reborn once more, I hold all the painful memories. I will tear off their masks of kindness, seek justice, and flee far away to start a brand new life, free from all suffering and betrayal.

Everyone says I’m crazy.
My husband, Adrien, is Ashmont College’s most esteemed professor—suave, composed, and highly logical. I, on the other hand, am an investigative journalist whose nerves are fried by looming deadlines and too much caffeine. Yet, I insist there’s a woman who shares my exact face, who crawls out of our bedroom mirror every night and slips into my husband’s bed.
Our security cameras always "happen" to glitch at the crucial moments. My son avoids me like I’m a monster, and my neighbors claim they cheerfully greeted "me" in the driveway a few days ago—even though I don't even own a vintage pink dress.
Adrien has started dropping phrases like "psych evaluation" and "sole custody." If I let this drag on any longer, he’s going to personally commit me to a psych ward.
So tonight, I lied about flying to Chicago. Instead, I’m hiding in my own study—waiting for that identical face to crawl out of the mirror one more time.

I spent fifteen years taking beatings in the Bronx hellhole — beatings meant for my mother.
She's a Manhattan heiress now. Chanel suits, a daughter on her arm, and eyes full of disgust whenever they land on my hollowed-out frame.
"You're just like your disgusting father. A sewer rat. You've always reeked of something rotten."
What she doesn't know: on that rainy night fifteen years ago, I wrapped my arms around that man's legs and let him kick me half to death, so she could run.
What she also doesn't know: the tumor in my stomach has spread. I won't survive the winter.
I'd made my peace with dying alone, quietly, so I wouldn't disturb the perfect life she'd built. I swallowed the blood rising in my throat and started walking toward the dark.
Then came the dinner party, a few months later. Her daughter shoved me off a second-floor balcony.
I hit the ground at her feet like a broken doll. Dark red blood flooded across her white heels.
I watched the color drain from her face. With the last breath I had, I apologized.
"Don't be scared. This piece of garbage won't dirty your eyes anymore."

At my engagement dinner, my fiancé asked me to sign the prenup that killed me once before.

Last time, Adrian smiled, kissed my hand, and promised I would never be alone again. Three weeks later, debt collectors came for money I had never borrowed, black veins crawled under my skin, and his dying mother walked out of hospice in pearls.

This time, I turned to the second page first.

My name was already printed there.

Beside it was a date that had not happened yet.

Under it was another bride’s name.

A woman declared dead twenty-three years ago.

The day college decisions came out, my parents bought my twin sister a Porsche.
It was my eighteenth birthday too. Nobody brought it up. I stood in the doorway in my diner uniform while the whole room sang her name.
That night the four of them went out to dinner to celebrate her. The car only sat four, so my father handed me a hundred dollars and told me to order myself something at home.
Four days later, six thousand four hundred dollars vanished from my account. Two years of washing dishes, gone to her sorority dues. My mother's name was on the account, so it wasn't even illegal.
I didn't scream and I didn't beg. I went upstairs and clicked Accept on the full ride to MIT that had been sitting in my inbox for three days.
Nobody in that house ever wanted me. So I booked a one-way ticket, cut myself out of the family photo, and left my key on the shoe rack.
I wasn't coming back. Not for graduation. Not for any of them.

Foxes are born to bless their mates, unlocking their bloodline and putting them on the throne of the Beast King.

In my last life, the Golden Lion prince Rein picked me, and my sister Lilith got stuck marrying Austin, the black dragon everyone steered clear of.

Then Austin's bloodline woke up and he took the throne, and Lilith rode his coattails straight into a crown.

I threw everything I had into blessing Rein and it never worked. He blamed me for every failure, dug my core out with his own hands, and tossed me into a cell like trash, leaving me there to rot.

Now I'm back, and at the mating ceremony, Rein walks right past me and takes Lilith's hand instead.

That's when I know. He's been reborn too.

But he has no idea. It was never my fault the blessing failed. He was never going to hold power, no matter who blessed him. That throne was never his to take.

My twin sister and I were born on the same day. She got the love. I got the debt.
Some doctor told my parents I stole Colette's immune system in the womb, and after that, the rule was simple: every time she got sick, I had to hurt worse. Fever meant the basement. Below freezing, no blanket, no socks, door padlocked from the outside.
I was seventeen and I weighed under seventy pounds. My teeth were coming loose. My hair was falling out.
Then, on the coldest night of the year, something moved behind the cracked mirror in the basement. A man in a tailcoat. He said he could give me anything, as long as I could pay.
All I wanted was a blanket and a piece of bread.
He asked what I had left to trade.
I didn't have anything. So I offered him my last years.

I inherited my mother’s breathtaking beauty, while my sister was cursed with our father’s plain, vulgar looks.
Consumed by jealousy, she married early and settled into a mundane life, while I was kept entirely imprisoned by our mother—forbidden to date, forbidden to marry.
Whenever I brought a boyfriend home, my mother would take him into that mysterious locked bathroom.
Every single man who walked out of there would have glazed eyes and a flushed look of utter ecstasy. Then, without fail, they would coldly abandon me. Even the man who swore to marry me completely succumbed—to the point where he was having sex with my mother in the garden in broad daylight!
What’s even more bizarre is that whenever any female relative stepped into that bathroom, they came out looking at me with vicious hatred, joining forces to spit on me.
Betrayed by everyone and pushed to the brink, I decided to flee this demonic house in the dead of night.
But the moment I peeked through the crack of the door and finally caught a glimpse inside that bathroom, the blood in my veins turned to ice.
Only then did I horrifyingly realize the true reason my mother was willing to destroy my entire life...

In my past life, I was shoved into oncoming traffic by my husband's widowed cousin, Isabella.
"Why do you get the perfect husband and the Romano fortune? Go to hell!"
I died, and my unborn child died with me. Up until my last breath, I thought she killed me out of purely manic, bitter jealousy.
When I opened my eyes, I was back at that exact crosswalk, rewound to the second she was about to push me.
Only this time, I stepped aside.
And I finally learned the truth. She wasn't just an envious widow—she was my husband's secret lover. And the one who paid the million-dollar bounty for my murder to steal my mafia empire was the "flawless" man sleeping in my bed.

A horrific car crash left me paralyzed.
The doctors said I'd never walk again. With no family left, my Aunt Martha and Uncle Thomas took me to their isolated farmhouse.
They cared for me, promising their treatments would help me walk again. After everything I'd been through, I thought I'd finally found safety.
Until today, when the feeling in my legs suddenly came back—but something told me not to tell them.

I was dragged to the stand of the MRI Memory Court by my own flesh and blood.

Their demand? To forcibly extract my kidney to keep their uremic adopted daughter alive.

A guilty verdict meant losing not just my bodily autonomy, but my freedom for the rest of my life.

Bathed in the global spotlight, my parents performed as tragic heroes, while their adopted saint cried a river of deceit.

They thought they had cornered the perfect victim, waiting for the world to send me to the slaughter.

But the moment the memory holograms ignited and reality bled through, the hunters instantly became the hunted.

I am Nerissa Calvino, the illegitimate daughter of the Vespucci mafia family—a stain on their pristine name.
All I ever wanted was a quiet life, spent in the arms of Carmine, a simple doctor. But my half-sister, Renata, fell terminally ill and was declared infertile. To preserve the alliance between the Vespucci and Arcuri families, a filthy transaction was struck: I was to be the surrogate for Renata’s fiancé, Silvano, bearing the heir that would bind their syndicates together.
They threatened Carmine’s life. To save him, I had to spit venom, shredding our love to pieces with my own hands.
In public, Silvano was the perfect, doting fiancé to my sister. But in the dark, he locked me away, claiming my body with ruthless gravity.
When news of my pregnancy broke, the entire estate rejoiced. Only I remained trapped in a living nightmare.
Torn between a past I couldn’t return to and a forbidden entanglement I couldn't escape, I wondered: would I ever reclaim my own life?

There's a heavy iron door at the end of the hall. Anyone who steps inside returns with eyes full of hatred. That’s all it took for the basement to turn my gentle fiancé into a predator and my loyal best friend into an enemy. Now, I'm trapped with a mother who claims the violence is all in my head. I have to open that door.

He broke down the morgue door, his guttural scream echoing off the cold tiles as he yanked open drawer after drawer.

"Emily!"

Ethan's hands shook violently as he pulled it open. She lay inside, a white sheet draped over her face. With trembling fingers, he peeled back the fabric. Her face was paper-white, lips bloodless, her eyelashes casting faint shadows. So still.

This wasn't the Emily he knew. The Emily he knew could smile, could cry, could clumsily try to warm his frozen heart. But now, she was just a corpse. A corpse because of him.

"Cancer... stage four..." he whispered, drowning in a tidal wave of panic.

He remembered all those times she had clutched her stomach in agony, and he had mocked her. He remembered demanding she give her heart to his lover. He remembered her final silent words through the surgical glass: "I hate you."

"AHHH—!!" A raw scream tore from his throat. He slammed his fist into the metal drawer, blood blooming across his knuckles.

He collapsed beside her, pulling her stiff, freezing body into his arms. She was so light. Like holding air.

"Emily, I was wrong. I was so wrong," he choked out, crying for the first time in years. "Wake up. Hit me. Hate me. I'm begging you..."

But death is the most absolute silence of all. How far will a man go when he realizes he murdered his only salvation?

I loved Julian for ten years, carving every sweat-stained day into my love for him.
He once said I shined brighter than any gold medal.
Yet in five short minutes, he handed my dream, my glory, and my whole world to a scheming transfer girl.
Betrayed, discarded, and broken on the fencing strip, I lost my first love and everything I fought for.
Until the retired cold Olympic champion stepped out of the dark midnight shadows.
He offered me hellish training and a sharp blade of revenge.
I buried my soft heart, handed over my soul, and vowed to make every traitor pay.

Ten years ago, my mate faked his death in the war and ran off with his childhood sweetheart.
No goodbye. No contact since.
All he left me were two things — a debt of six hundred and eighty thousand, and a notice declaring him lost, stamped four years later by people who'd never met him.
The bank took our den. I moved into a shared burrow-flat at the edge of the settlement.
Three jobs after hours. Sold blood. Scrubbed latrines. Tested tonics for the healers until my nose stopped working right.
Ten years to pay off the debt. A desk at the Missing and Fallen Registry Office, once the ceasefire finally came.
My first case file was a man the law had already declared dead.
He said he'd been young and reckless. Walked out. Never looked back.
Now his family's land was due a war reparations payout, and he needed his name restored to collect it.
I stared at the name on the form. Recognized it instantly.
Smiled.
"Insufficient documentation. Application denied."

My long-lost twin sister has returned.
The first thing she did was demand to marry my fiancé.
Jayden, murmuring apologies, held her close as they walked into the city hall.
My family urged me to be generous, saying, "After all she’s been through, you owe her this much. You've had a good life all these years—why not let her have this?"
Until the day of their wedding, no one could find me.
But what they didn't know was that my body had been drifting at sea for over ten days.

Everyone at Harlow University knows Callum Voss. The starting point guard, the dean's favorite headache, the boy whose smile has cleared more disciplinary hearings than any lawyer on retainer. He is the kind of person the campus bends around without being asked.

Nobody knows Wren Aldae. That is entirely on purpose.

Wren has spent two years building a life at Harlow that no one can touch: one close friend, zero social media, a journalism scholarship that pays tuition, and a rule about never writing stories that could blow back on her personally.

Then Callum Voss appears at her desk with a proposition. Someone has started a bet pool about his love life and the resulting media circus is one week away from costing him his athletic standing. He needs it to stop. She needs a front-page story before the scholarship committee meets. A fake relationship with a visible timeline and a clean public ending would solve both problems.

Wren knows better than to say yes. She says yes anyway.

Neither of them accounts for the fact that proximity is its own kind of problem.

Nora Vale inherits three million dollars and a ruined seaside motel from an aunt her family called impossible.

She tells no one. Not even Rowan, her exhausted mechanic husband, who has spent years letting his family drain him dry.

Instead, Nora tells one dangerous lie: her design studio has collapsed, and she has lost everything.

Rowan does not blame her. He does not leave. He takes her hand and says, "Then we rebuild. You and me."

But the inheritance is not just money. Harbor Mile Motel hides records of a predatory company buying coastal properties through debt, fear, and family pressure. Rowan's brother is involved. Nora's aunt may not have died as quietly as everyone believed.

Now Nora must learn that money can buy time, repairs, and lawyers, but it cannot buy trust. And Rowan must decide whether the woman who lied to test his love is still the woman he wants to build a future with.

Nora Vale inherits three million dollars and a ruined seaside motel from an aunt her family called impossible.

She tells no one. Not even Rowan, her exhausted mechanic husband, who has spent years letting his family drain him dry.

Instead, Nora tells one dangerous lie: her design studio has collapsed, and she has lost everything.

Rowan does not blame her. He does not leave. He takes her hand and says, "Then we rebuild. You and me."

But the inheritance is not just money. Harbor Mile Motel hides records of a predatory company buying coastal properties through debt, fear, and family pressure. Rowan's brother is involved. Nora's aunt may not have died as quietly as everyone believed.

Now Nora must learn that money can buy time, repairs, and lawyers, but it cannot buy trust. And Rowan must decide whether the woman who lied to test his love is still the woman he wants to build a future with.

I've caught my fiancé Henry cheating ninety-nine times. And every single time, I forgave him.

That's because I have this rare condition—short-term memory loss. Every morning, I wake up with no memory of what happened the day before.

But then, out of nowhere, a car accident actually cured me.

I was so excited. I rushed over to tell Henry the good news, but stopped cold when I heard him outside the door, joking around with his friends:

"Didn't Judy get sick because she walked in on you and Kenna having sex?"

Ethan Calloway and I had been together for eight years. Married for three—or so everyone thought.
We had the ceremony. The hospital chapel, the white dress, his boss giving a toast. But we never made it to City Hall to sign the papers. He promised we would. Eighteen times.
Every time, something came up. Or rather, someone came up—his young protégée, Chloe. She needed him at the hospital. She needed him at the conference. She needed him at dinner.
I drank on his behalf at every work function. I wrote the surgical plans he presented as his own. I waited in an empty apartment while he drove her home.
The nineteenth time he tried to reschedule, I didn't argue. I didn't cry. I just booked a one-way ticket to the one city he'd never follow me to.
He made eighteen promises. I only needed to break one.

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.

Victor towers over Lila Thompson in her family kitchen and growls, “You belong to me and you are my fated mate. The Crescent Mother wills it.” Lila spits back, “I don’t belong to anyone,” while Caleb yanks her from a demon ambush, Adrian blackmails her into the trials, and Levi pins her against the arena wall under his father’s lethal gaze.

★★★★

Lila Thompson, an 18-year-old outcast with fiery red hair and a wolf mark that burns, is rejected by her fated mate Victor, the ruthless Alpha of Stormfire who now hunts her for death. Forced to flee Alaska’s snowy Caeli Pack, Lila dives into the deadly Demon Hunting Trials where Caleb (her sarcastic half-demon partner) protects her, Adrian (the blackmailing Rivermare wolf) forces her friendship, and Levi (Victor’s own son and prince) defies his father to train her. This dark reverse harem explodes with rejected-mate tension, demon battles, forbidden desire, and savage revenge.

What if your fated mate wanted you dead? Would you run into hell with three dangerous wolves who crave you instead?

“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.

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?

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.

"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+.

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…
Setting:

Two years ago, at the Mating Ceremony, my fated mate, Alpha Jason, rejected me in front of the entire pack. He chose my stepsister, Maggie, simply because she had pure blood, and I was just a "Wolfless" waste.
Two years later, I returned to the Blackwater Territory with my new mate.
I met Jason at the forest entrance bordering the territory. For the sake of his pack’s "interests," he dared to order me to warm my stepfather’s bed and serve his new mate as a maid.
He had no idea that the "Wolfless" waste he was sneering at was now the most revered woman in North America—the Luna Queen.

Love is not part of why Kane Beaumont marries Emilia Taylor.
It was purely a contract deal to him and nothing more. Saving her family's business from the claws of evil loan sharks is Emilia's motive for marrying a man she barely knew.
However, she doesn't count on being hopelessly attracted to him even when he treats her like a worthless peasant.
Their relationship is chaotic, thanks to Kane's lover who is determined to ruin any opportunity of their romance ever blooming.
Even if it means putting Emilia's life in danger, setting her up, and turning the world against her.
When sparks begin to fly between Kane and Emilia after an unfortunate accident, their relationship goes through a tough test that destroys the tiny flames of love burning between them.
Will love eventually find a way in the end or will this marriage continue to be a high-stakes business deal with dangerous rewards?