8117 Book(s) Related to the dark tower the drawing of the three

1

Caroline Mercer once believed kindness could be proven by sacrifice. She took in two orphaned children, gave them schools, doctors, tutors, rooms beside her daughter's nursery, and a path into the Mercer name.

Years later, those children returned as witnesses against her. Sloane Vale smiled for the cameras while calling Caroline a monster. Nolan Vale handed federal investigators a beautiful stack of forged evidence. Caroline's husband was broken, her company was seized, and her only daughter, Evelyn, died after being traded into a marriage meant to protect everyone else's reputation.

Then Caroline opened her eyes on the morning the Vale children first arrived at her door.

This time, she would feed them. She would house them. She would educate them. She would keep every receipt, every doctor's report, every legal notice.

But she would never again give strangers the keys to her child's future.

I’m the only person on Earth with a clinically proven antibody capable of neutralizing this rare deadly virus.
I caught the virus when I was six. Its mortality rate was staggeringly high, and everyone thought I’d never pull through. Against all odds, I recovered entirely on my own. By some strange twist of biology, my body made the world’s sole antibody that could fight this virus off.
Once I turned eighteen, I signed up to donate my serum as a volunteer.
For twenty years straight, rain or shine, I showed up to donate free of charge—107 separate donations in total. Each time, I pulled a gravely ill patient back from death’s brink.
I’m no saint living to save the whole world. Every last donation was done for my mother.
Back when I was six, my father’s infidelity drove my mother to take her own life. What happened was cruel beyond measure, completely unforgivable.
A fortune-teller once told me my mom’s lingering resentment ran far too deep. To free her trapped, wandering soul for good, a blood relative of hers had to finish exactly 108 acts of good deeds.
Twenty years in, only one deed remained. Just one more, and my mother’s spirit could finally rest in peace.
But when the hospital sent out an urgent emergency SOS this time around, I did something I’d never done in two decades.
I turned their request down flat.

It was the kind of cold that seeped into your bones.
In my past life, I was locked in the abandoned freezer beneath St. Jude Preparatory Academy.
Outside the door stood my biological brother Spencer, along with Landon—my boyfriend of three years. And between them, wearing Landon's oversized football jacket, was my stepsister Lacey.
"Blythe, just admit you bullied me. Post an apology video to the whole school, and Spencer will let you out." Lacey's voice trembled, fake tears glistening at the corners of her eyes.
Spencer's voice cut through the metal door like ice:
"Blythe, you brought this on yourself. You've been terrorizing Lacey at school, pushed her to the edge. Maybe some time in there will teach you what decency looks like."
Landon's voice dripped with disappointment: "Jesus, Blythe. I thought I knew you. This isn't who you are."
I pounded on the iron door until my fists were raw, screaming until my voice gave out.
I told them the truth—that I never touched Lacey. That she was the one forcing girls to their knees in the bathroom. That she stole my exam. That every shred of "evidence" was manufactured.
No one believed me.
I froze to death in that sub-zero hellhole.
As the cold claimed me, staring at my blue-purple fingers, all I felt was pure, burning hate.
Then I opened my eyes again—back to the day it all began.

In my past life, I was a wild, pureblood witch who tamed my own nature for love, willingly playing the submissive, perfect Luna for my fated Alpha.
But to him, I was just a savage that "needed to be brought to heel." When enemy wolves ambushed us, he held my manipulative, magicless adopted sister tight, leaving me to be ripped apart.
When I opened my eyes, I had been thrust back in time to the day of our Mating Ceremony.
Staring at the white gown that symbolized nothing but my submission, I slapped a thirty-million-dollar price tag on my "fated mate" and sold him right to my sister.
Using a pureblood glamour, I sent her to the altar in my place. Then I hopped on my motorcycle and rode straight into forbidden territory—right into the arms of the ruthless, unhinged "Mad Wolf" Alpha. He didn't want an obedient pet; he wanted a lethal queen to rule the wild by his side.
That night, when my arrogant ex sealed the irreversible mate bond, lifted the bridal veil, and realized the woman eternally bound to his soul wasn't me...
The icy, untouchable Alpha who spent a lifetime trying to break me completely lost his damn mind.

In my previous life, I was cruelly exploited by my wicked stepmother.
Not only was I drained of my military discharge money, but I was also driven into a subterranean warehouse that could collapse at any moment.
In darkness and despair, I was frozen to death by a cold wave that dropped surface temperatures to minus 60 degrees.
The moment I opened my eyes again, I had reincarnated back to three days before the outbreak of the cataclysm!
Staring at my stepmother's face, which was filled with greed and harshness, I wasted no words, threw on my heavy coat, and marched straight toward the underground warehouse.
For I knew that with sufficient supplies and energy, this nuclear-grade subterranean warehouse would become the ark of the apocalypse!

Damien thought he could balance loyalty to his childhood friend and love for his angel fiancée. He had no idea he was dragging me into a living nightmare. Four years of false heavenly missions turned into endless torment upon the altar. The lies crumbled the moment my angelheart was torn out of my chest. After uncovering Chloe’s deception and his own heinous crimes, Damien meted out brutal justice, gave away all his ducal fortune as atonement, and leaped into hell, hoping to be reunited with me. From the divine realm, I watched him perish with cold detachment. Love that arrives only after everything has been destroyed deserves not an ounce of mercy.

"You good-for-nothing should get out and save your food rations. I'll use your truckload of supplies for you!"

The man-eating scarlet spores swept through the town. My good brother locked the security door tightly and locked me in the corridor filled with blood mist.

He stared intently at me through the peephole, waiting to see the horrific sight of my internal organs being drained by the fungus.

But a second before I was devoured by the spores, I hid in my personal space and with a single thought drained the last drop of water and every grain of rice from the room.

Three days later, in this impregnable "vacuum tomb".

When he was so thirsty that he swallowed blood, and knelt on the ground desperately pounding on the door.

I kicked the door open, tied him up with nylon rope, and hung him upside down in the blood-red storm outside the window.

For five years, my crime boss husband made me take off my wedding ring nine times—all for his precious damsel in distress.

When we first married, he promised me: "From now on, you're my queen, the queen of New Orleans."

But whenever Brianna came crying for help, he'd change his tune: "Mr. Parker saved my life, Claire. I owe his family everything."

And like a fool, I believed him eight times.

Eight times I watched from the shadows as he took another woman to our favorite restaurants.

Eight times I explained to the crew that our "separation" was just giving each other space.

Eight times I watched her move into my bedroom, use my dishes, sleep in my bed.

All for a man who kept making me slip off my ring, then slide it back on, over and over again.

Until the ninth time, when he said he needed to provide sperm for her fertility treatment, and I offered to leave.

He still thinks this is just another temporary break, expecting me to come crawling back in a month like always.

He'll never know I've already booked my ticket out of here.

Betrayed and killed by the wolf king in my past life, I came back from hell. On the wedding day, I turned down his proposal without hesitation. I made a blood pact with his greatest enemy—the vampire king. Together, we avenged my child and family, and built a new future in the dark.

My daughter begged me, tears in her eyes, to take her to gymnastics camp—just the two of us.

I thought it was her way of proving she loved me.

I was wrong.

In that hotel room in Toronto, I overheard my husband's voice—with another woman.

“Don't worry, Sophia will find a way to stay a few more days. I promised her that blue limited-edition leotard.”

“Her body now… after giving birth, it's ruined.”

In that moment, my world collapsed.

I thought I'd only been betrayed by my husband.
But the daughter I raised with everything I had—she was his accomplice.

The child I nurtured with my own hands kept clearing the path: so that woman could sleep in my bed, wear the lingerie I could no longer fit into, sneer in front of the mirror at every single mark my body earned from bringing life into this world.

I once believed that giving up my career would be enough to hold my family together.

But they joined hands to tell me: my sacrifice was never honored. It was a joke.

When a woman who has given everything to her family finally wakes up—

Her revenge will make every single one of them remember exactly what they did.

"Sloane, where there's smoke, there's fire. If you're really clean, why is it only burning you?"
In my last life, when those fabricated hotel records went viral on the company Slack, I scrambled to explain. I cried. I begged.
What I got was a suspension, a blacklist, and a foster mother who died on a hospital bed because I could no longer pay for her meds.
The person who started it all? Walked right over my corpse into a partnership.
Then I opened my eyes—and I was back. Three days before the promotion list dropped.
I stared at the pixelated "explicit screenshot" on my screen, and I didn't cry. Didn't rage.
I just smiled and hit screen record.
This time, I'm not proving I'm clean.
I'm proving they're guilty.

To get pregnant, I gave up a career my peers all envied. The day I finally conceived, my husband brought his mistress home to live with us.
He shoved me into the table without a second thought.
Nana Mae fell trying to protect me—her head cracking against the marble floor.
"Call an ambulance!" Blood soaked through my hands. My abdomen tore with pain.
"Sienna's too fragile. She can't handle the sight of blood." He scooped up his mistress and walked out, leaving the two of us on the floor.
"You can't leave this bed—it could hurt the baby." I ignored the doctor's warning and stayed at Nana Mae's bedside anyway.
Ten minutes earlier, she'd posted on Instagram: a tiny band-aid on her hand, his fingers wrapped around hers.

I was the unluckiest kid in my family—always the one pulling the black-tipped stick from that pretty little "Fairness Jar."
In our house, red meant new dresses, Disneyland, and a goodnight kiss from Mom. Black meant endless chores, lockup in the attic, and the kind of hunger that ate you from the inside out.
Mom loved to stroke my hair in front of the neighbors. "God gives everyone a fair shake," she'd say. "Riley's just a little unlucky, is all."
I believed her for fourteen years.
Until I had an asthma attack and died on that dusty attic floor.
The moment my soul slipped free, I looked down at the overturned Jar, its sticks scattered across the floorboards—and I finally understood why I'd drawn black every single time.

A year ago, my ex abandoned me when I was broke and buried in debt, choosing the Russo family heiress instead.

On the day of his engagement party, he sent me a vicious text: "Wear a wedding dress to Plaza Hotel. Changed my mind. You're marrying me."

I showed up in white.

Luca and his crew waited at the entrance, ready to watch me humiliate myself.

He thought this was my degradation.

But what he didn't know was—I was getting married.

Just not to him.

To Dante Valentino—the most dangerous man in this godforsaken city.

I died from campus rumors and elite prejudice in my last life.
Reborn, I no longer choose to explain. I collect every timestamp, fingerprint and hidden deal.
I expose my traitorous boyfriend, fake weak rival, and the school’s biased protection of the privileged.
With ironclad proof, I overturned all injustice and let every hypocrite pay the price.

Dorian, my boyfriend of three years, was a partner at a top-tier Boston law firm. He was gentle, refined, and absolutely flawless.
A week ago, he buried his face in my neck late at night, whispering that the city was suffocating him. He wanted to take me back to his hometown to meet Octavia, the grandmother who had single-handedly raised him.
I agreed without hesitation.
But on Crane Island, every night Dorian would slip out of our bed, using Octavia's gout as an excuse.
Until that night. I crept barefoot to Octavia’s door and pressed my ear against the wood.
What I heard wasn’t a sick old woman. It was Dorian’s heavy panting, mixed with the shameless, breathy moans of a young woman...

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.

For the third time, Kael fled before the wedding—this time to deliver medicine to the neighbor girl he grew up with.
As compensation, the pack elders offered me two chests of rare ore and the deed to an island.
Someone, still hopeful, called Kael on speakerphone.
His careless voice echoed through the hall:
“Why bother with compensation? Ella loves me so much; she’ll come around as soon as I go back and sweet-talk her a little.”
“Sophia’s health is what matters now. Once she recovers, I’ll just hold another ceremony for Ella.”
The elders tried to explain, but the surrounding werewolves were all waiting to see the show—waiting to see how much humiliation I would swallow.
Just like the first two times.
But I’d had enough. And I’d lost all interest in Kael.
I kicked over the chest of ore and let my gaze fall on Kael’s uncle.
Then, I smiled.
“I heard the old Alpha left a will: whoever can claim me… becomes the next Alpha.”

I thought Auden was the most devoted husband in the world—until the day I regained my sight and recognized him on the front page: a serial killer who had murdered eight blonde women.
I had to play blind. I swallowed the liquid the maid brought me—a brew soaked in dead people's eyeballs. I chewed on a human molar in my dinner. I sat perfectly still as I watched him fuck our maid right in front of me, not daring to let a single expression slip.
Because the exact second my vision returned, an anonymous text had popped up on my phone: Don't let Auden know you can see.

"Help! Somebody help me! Julian is trying to kill my baby!" I scream at the top of my lungs, bursting into my gender reveal party.

Just minutes ago, Julian was my perfect, doting husband. Then he opens my unborn baby's genetic screening report. The unadulterated ferocity and revulsion simmering in his eyes makes my entire body shake. He grips my arm, demanding I terminate the pregnancy.

I already died once because of that piece of paper. In my past life, they dragged me to a freezing lab, pumped me full of drugs, and murdered my child before locking me in an asylum.

This time, I hide behind the guests. But my parents storm in. After seeing the report, instead of saving me, Dad kicks me squarely in the stomach.

"You shameless little whore," he spits.

They are about to drag me out the back door when two police officers step through the glass doors. The cop hands me the confiscated report.

I look down at the printed words... and finally understand.

For love, I gave up my identity as a wealthy heiress and eloped with my poor boyfriend. To help him raise startup capital for his business, I spent Christmas Eve dressed as Santa Claus handing out flyers.
And he, just to make his first love smile, kicked me into the pool with one swift kick...

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.

"I gave Julian Sterling everything: my love, my loyalty, and the child I carried in my womb. In return, he watched my best friend push me down a flight of stairs and did nothing as I lost my baby.

Now, my brother is behind bars for a crime he didn’t commit, and my husband is demanding I sign a lie to protect the woman who shattered my life. He thinks I’m a broken bird with clipped wings. He thinks I have nowhere left to turn.
He’s wrong.

Julian forgot one thing about the woman he married.

I’ve called my father. I’ve set the clock. I have seven days to play the grieving wife before I strip Julian of his fortune, his name, and his freedom.

The countdown to his ruin starts now.

Dad was in critical condition and had just been wheeled into the operating room.
My husband—also Dad’s attending surgeon—was nowhere to be found.
I stood in the corridor in my pajamas until past midnight, hands shaking as I kept calling Jason.
When the call finally connected, a sweet, girlish voice spilled through the speaker:
"I’m watching the Eiffel Tower lights with Jason!"
A male voice followed, impatient and familiar—Jason’s:
"Is it her again? Ava, tell her to stop calling. The lights are about to go out. Can she stop making a scene?"
A chill sliced through me. Before I could speak, the line went dead.

My betrothed, Theron, gave me a unicorn — the highest honor our court could grant a lady.
I had it hitched to a dung cart and sent through the lower city.
Only because I had lived this life before.
Last time, I was proud of that creature. I rode it to every hunt, every procession, and people said no beast so pure had ever chosen a rider. My light was the brightest among the elves. Then, season by season, it went out. I withered, I burned away in my own bed, and everyone wept over how strangely the great Lady Eldraine had aged.
I thought it was some illness. I begged every healer in the realm. None of them found a thing.
I only learned the truth after I died.
My spirit watched a girl climb out of that unicorn's body. Elowen. The pale, dying little thing the whole court called a saint — and the woman Theron had wanted all along. She was wearing my light now — my glow, my color, my stolen years. She was radiant. She was alive. And she was in Theron's arms, where I used to stand.
"The binding held," she whispered to him. "Every time she rode me, I drank a little more. Her light. Her magic. Her life. It's all mine now."
Theron didn't even glance at my body. "She gave you her life," he said. "She should be glad."
So I laughed, when I woke again on the morning he led that unicorn into the hall.

"Just imagine it, Em. His ex-fiancée... dating his favourite hockey player."


Zane and I were together for ten years. When he had no one, I stayed by his side, supporting his hockey career while believing at the end of all our struggles, I'll be his wife and the only one at his side.But after six years of dating, and four years of being his fiancée, not only did he leave me, but seven months later I receive an invitation... to his wedding!If that isn't bad enough, the month long wedding cruise is for couples only and requires a plus one. If Zane thinks breaking my heart left me too miserable to move on, he thought wrong!Not only did it make me stronger.. it made me strong enough to move on with his favourite bad boy hockey player, Liam Calloway.

In their eyes, I’m a limping janitor who can’t even hold a cup of hot coffee steady.
The head of security can grind his polished boot on my fingers whenever he wants. The gorgeous CEO looks at me with pure disgust for a coward. Even the front desk girl can yell at me as she pleases.
I sprawl on the carpet like an old dog—stuttering, shrinking, obedient.
But they don’t know that if I wanted to, snapping their necks would take only 0.6 seconds.
Three years ago, I was the Seventh Fleet’s sharpest one-man operator. To uncover a cross-border money-laundering network worth tens of billions, I faked my death and lay low inside this filthy corporate empire, mopping floors for three years.
Until today—when that arrogant European mafia titan dropped to his knees in front of my dirty mop bucket, in full view of the entire company.
That’s when I knew.
Three years of disguise were finally about to be torn apart.

I don’t remember who I am. Not where I came from. Not who I can trust.
All I know is that I woke up at a party, surrounded by strangers—until Killian, Khai, Elijah, and Asher, four hot dragons, stepped in to help me. There’s something about them that makes me feel safe around them. And when they tell I'm their fated mate, I finally feel like I can breathe again.
But it’s not that simple.
They tell me one thing, but I can feel it—they’re holding back. They promised me no lies, but when I found out one of them is engaged, I ran. I panicked. And it turned out to be my biggest mistake.
Because I fell into the hands of some very dangerous people.
Now, all I can do is hope they come for me.
And if they don’t… I’ll have to fight my way out.
And that won’t be easy, especially when I’m trapped on a ship surrounded by a magical mist.


“See what you are doing to me, Muffin?” I nod, my eyes fixed on the tip of his dick. I want to taste him. “Do you want to help me feel good?”
I swallow hard. “I don’t think that will fit inside me,” I squeak.
The corners of his mouth twitch. “You will take every inch of my cock, because you are my sweet girl and you want to please me.”
My clit throbs again.
Khai inhales deeply. “Fuck, Muffin. You’re wet again.”

When I woke up, I was locked at a round table, surrounded by four strangers.

A masked clown said: "Tonight there are only four gifts. The extra person... who could it be?"

The clown invited us to play a game.

The rules were simple—Liar's Poker.

Liars die. Those successfully challenged also die.

In the first round, the tattooed brute beside me lost and was dragged into the "Meat Grinder Ferris Wheel."

I heard the sound of his bones being crushed by gears.

The clown wiped blood from his hands, laughing: "Children who lie must be punished, you know~"

"Did you enjoy the game Penny prepared for you all?"

The moment he uttered "Penny's" name, everyone's faces broke out in cold sweat, because she had been dead for three years.

And everyone present... including me...

Remembered clearly.

I retired for three years, restraining my edge, thinking compromise could bring peace.

But what I got in return was my sister's abduction, my family's estate seized, and my benefactor hanged from the city gates!

Even the Council turned a blind eye, mocking me as bottom-tier trash without even a shred of magic.

Since mortal reasoning won't work, then I'll shatter the rules of this world myself!

DISCLAIMER BEFORE YOU ENTER

Alpha Daddies who kneels to eat their slutty step daughter’s psy dwell here.

Furious stepmothers with feral wolves are rampant. Be careful! Your c*** are not safe from gagging and even pu*** lips beg to survive from them.

Bratty daughters are here too. Their job is to create seduce their parent’s pack enforcers or warriors who just came back from war. Lastly, unlimited sin, abomination, reverse harem, taboo and anything called LUST dwells here. Grab an extra pair of p***…or maybe a toy.

Every night, he slips through my window. He never tells me his name.
He also never lets me touch him.
He owns me in the dark, then disappears before dawn.
For two years, he’s ruled my nights, taking me in every possible way.
Controlled me in ways I can't tell you.
Made me crave things I don’t understand. But when morning comes,
he returns to me as someone else. Natte Johnson.
The global hotel tycoon and rock star.
The man I grew up loving, my first love and losing.
Now I’m assigned to interview him.
The moment our eyes meet, something inside me pulls.
My body reacts to his voice alone and his gaze.

And I can’t stop wondering,
what if the man who commands me in the dark, makes me lose my sanity,
is the same man pretending not to know me in the light?
And if he is,
how long before he stops pretending
and claims me completely?

“I, Riccardo Saviano, future Alpha of the Grey Shadow Moon Pack, reject you, Artemisia Guerrieri, Daughter of Alpha Franco of the Blood Moon Pack, as my mate and future Luna.”

One single sentence.

One stupid single sentence was all it took to disintegrate my life.

And the day of my birthday, on which this sentence was audaciously uttered to me, I lost the love of my life, my future mate, and my wolf, all at once.

As I’m still assembling the pieces of my shattered heart years later, there they come.

Like lightning out of a crystal blue sky.

My Mates.

But wait…

If I am mated to triplets, how come I’m about to be mated to 5 gorgeous men?

*** TW: explicit and foul language; spicy content; explicit sex scenes ***

"I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you walk into that biology classroom six years ago."

Cedric froze. He thought he was just an anonymous server in a high-end mafia club, wearing a wire for the police to clear his $500,000 debt. But the man sitting in the VIP booth—Gianni Falcone, the most dangerous crime lord in New York—wasn't a stranger. He was Gus Franco, the quiet kid from high school who used to stare at the back of Cedric's neck.

"I watched you waste yourself on people who didn't deserve you," Falcone whispered, his hand cupping Cedric's jaw with terrifying gentleness. "I orchestrated everything. The debt, the job, the desperation. I burned down your world just to clear a path for you to walk into my arms."

Cedric realized too late: He wasn't here to catch a criminal. He was the prize waiting to be claimed.

In the terminal stage of cancer, my only life-saving chemotherapy opportunity was bought out by Patrick for Laura, who only had early-stage cancer.

I gave up the treatment plan that doctors said could save my life and swallowed strong pain-blocking medication. The consequence was organ failure and death within three days.

During these three days, I gave up everything.

When I gave all my hard-earned achievements to Laura, my parents smiled with relief.

When Patrick presented the divorce papers and I signed them readily, he sighed and said I was very sensible.

When I pushed Anna to call Laura "mom," she said excitedly that mommy was the best.

Even when I transferred all my properties and assets to Laura, they didn't notice anything wrong.

They just looked at me with relief and said: "Our sensible Flora has finally come back."

But I'm also curious - after I die, will they ever think of me?

After being abandoned by my husband one last time and rejected by my own son, I finally hit my breaking point.
Because I was dying.
At the very end, fate sent me back to the world I once knew.
And there, love and glory swept over me like a flood.

My family used me as bait to destroy my sister's happiness.

The plan was simple: fake being poor, watch my sister's construction worker boyfriend run when times got tough, then reveal the truth and break her heart. I was supposed to be the convincing proof of our "poverty."

But I didn't know I was acting. For ten years, I lived their lie for real. Starved while they feasted in hiding. Worked myself to the bone while they watched me suffer.

Then I got my dream job and burst through the door to save everyone—only to find my sister's engagement party in progress.

But she'd dumped the construction worker for a tech mogul. "Maya's suffering was so authentic," she laughed to her guests. "It showed me exactly what I'd become if I stayed with Jake. Thank God I came to my senses."

My pain was her wake-up call.

Last time, the world ended.

My fallen comrade left me the fortress he spent his life building. I hesitated, let his niece’s boyfriend inside, and that mercy killed everyone. They took the warehouse, cut the power, and put a knife in my gut. I crawled into the underground control room and triggered the self-destruct protocol he’d hidden for the worst day. The entire fortress went up in flames.

Then I opened my eyes—one month before disaster.

The gate was still closed. They were still outside. Everything could still be fixed.

This time, I set one rule at the door: anyone who opens it without approval is a traitor.

She cried like before, begged me to let her boyfriend in, called him the man she loved—and when I refused, she reached for the controls anyway.

So I grabbed her wrist and threw her out with them.

How long would you wait for the one you were fated to love?
And how many lifetimes would you live to find your way back to them?

Penelope was only fifteen when she offered her soul to her fated beloved, binding their souls in sacred vowfire. When he left for war, she knew that so long as their fire burned, he would return to her.

For fifteen years, Penelope ruled her island kingdom, holding off the droves of suitors from the surrounding islands and the mainland who sought her throne. Her people whispered that she was stubborn. Unyielding. Cursed. And she let them believe that and kept her eyes on the horizon, waiting for him to return.

Their fire burned on, and her faith remained unwavering.

Until the day she died, and the trap she’d laid sprang, giving her the chance to turn back the clock and chart a new course for the war that stole everything from her.

But she is not the only one who has come back in time, nor is she the first, and there is much more at stake than her fated love and the future that had been stolen from them.

Goddess bless her blood-stained path.

TW: Graphic Violence, War, Mentioned Child Abuse

"I want you."
"Are you crazy?"
"I'm your best friend's dad. I'm like a father to you."
"But you're not my dad."
"I'm forty-five. You just turned eighteen. You're too young."
"I'm a legal adult. If I can vote and go to jail… then why can't I decide this for myself?"
All Shades of Passion is a collection of short steamy stories cutting through all spheres of life, depicting our individual struggles to find ourselves. Who we are and what we want. Each story has a unique plot, individual struggle, and a meaningful closure. From a young girl who is curious about life as she turns 18, to a girl who hopes for a Cinderella story but falls for the baddest boy in town. There's sizzling boy romance, lesbian forbidden love, and a female coach who is in love with her student. It is packed full of forbidden love, sexual tension, and age gap romance. No judgment, No prejudice. Five stories illustrating how attraction can ignite a flame of passion in all humans great and small. Passion is pleasure, even though it may come in different colors.

I fought for a decade as a man, earning honors that crowned my family in glory. Returning home, I expected a hero's welcome. Instead, I was a ghost—a secret they feared would destroy them.

To protect their new daughter and stolen privileges, they offered me a poisoned cup. They shattered the hands that held their kingdom safe, thinking they had erased me.

They were wrong.

I awoke on the day of my return, gifted with a second chance. This time, I will not seek their love. I will claim the throne of vengeance that is rightfully mine.

"You're trembling," he murmured, his thumb brushing slowly over her lips. "Is it fear... or is it me?"
Her pulse betrayed her before her voice ever could. He was too close. Too dangerous. And her body no longer knew which feeling came first, terror or desire.
Elena Castellano was never meant to become collateral in a war between families. But after a brutal attack turns her world upside down, her father makes an unthinkable decision to protect her. He binds her future to Stefano Bernardo, the ruthless heir of one of Milan's most feared dynasties.
To the outside world, their marriage is a powerful alliance.
To Stefano, it is revenge.
Cold, calculating, and impossibly controlled, Stefano has waited years for the perfect moment to strike back at the Castellano name. Marrying Elena is part of the plan. Breaking her family is the goal.
Now trapped in a gilded cage of wealth and danger, Elena must navigate a marriage built on secrets, resentment, and a simmering tension neither of them can ignore. Stefano's vengeance runs deeper than she ever imagined, and every glance feels like a warning. Every touch feels like temptation.
But the greatest threat may not be his hatred or the enemies watching from the shadows.
It may be the way her heart responds to the very man determined to destroy everything she loves.
He married her to ruin her family. She was never supposed to make him question everything.
When revenge and desire collide in a world ruled by power and blood, can love survive the consequences?