990 Book(s) Related to ryuko x male reader lemon

The day I won the competition, my sister's heart "failed," and she could never stand again.

From that moment, she claimed all the favoritism.

Looking at my wall of honors, she sat in her wheelchair, heartbroken: "Chloe is so amazing, unlike me—just a burden who could die any moment."

My brother's heart ached for her. He grabbed a baseball bat and smashed all my trophies to pieces, defending her honor.

When I was selected as dance troupe captain, tears streamed down her face: "If I hadn't gotten sick, could I have shined on the Lincoln Center stage too?"

My parents turned to scold me for showing off, drugging me before the audition and ruining my chances.

Later, she had a breakdown and went live on Instagram, swallowing pills while sobbing that she didn't deserve love.

My childhood sweetheart, my fiancé, rushed to her side immediately. He dropped to one knee and slipped my diamond engagement ring onto her finger.

Later, I was killed by an armed robber. As I lay dying, I made one last desperate call for help.

He hung up impatiently:

"Mia needs me to hold her hand during her IV treatment. Stop being so fucking unreasonable!"

When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day my sister's heart "failed."

My name is Evelyn. In my third year working at the morgue, I unzipped body bag J-47 and found my sister who had been missing for three days—her chest cavity surgically hollowed out, heart and magic-infused ribs completely gone.

My hands shaking, I checked my phone. A text from my billionaire fiancé Tristan: "Babe, don't forget tomorrow's engagement dinner. Heard about Lily's accident? Already arranged lawyers to handle it."

I almost laughed. For three months, this Ivy League heir kissed my forehead every night, whispering how much he loved me. Yet yesterday, he personally supervised a live heart extraction—to save his dying white moonlight, he strapped my sister to an operating table and carved out her heart while she was fully conscious.

Using my witch bloodline, I accessed Lily's final memories. I saw her desperate eyes, heard Tristan coldly command: "Careful with the goods."

At the fraternity engagement party, Tristan announced a five-million-dollar settlement for the "tragic accident." The lawyer handed me documents—NDAs, death certificates, and a forged organ donation form with my signature.

I looked across the table. The previously dying heiress Chloe was elegantly cutting steak, her cheeks flushed with unnatural health. My sister's heart beat strong in her chest.

"Sign it, Evie," Tristan stroked my hand. "Life must go on."

I tore up every contract.

"You think money buys lives?" I slashed my palm, blood igniting the shredded papers. "Tonight, learn about real equivalent exchange."

Only then did Tristan realize he wasn't marrying some ordinary morgue intern, but the last heir of the First Witch bloodline.

He activated the fraternity's witch-hunting trap—silver chains, exorcism arrays, and my most trusted friend Mark driving a consecrated nail into my back.

But when the ancient seal shattered, when the primordial witch power awakened, I systematically ripped out the hearts of every fraternity brother, letting them experience my sister's final agony.

Facing annihilation, Tristan fell to his knees weeping: "You're the one I've always loved!"

I smiled coldly, opening the crematorium pit beneath the floor: "Want to chase your wife? Here's a real crematorium."

In the Hall of Divine Selection, my younger sister stepped on me and declared that she was the only one worthy of becoming the Dragon Queen. Then she threw Kaelorn at me—a broken, half-blind dragon she had tortured until even his tail was severed—like he was nothing more than a worthless mate for a worthless bride.
In my last life, I was stripped to the bone and imprisoned by the Dragon God, while she lived free and untouched.
But this time, the moment she raised her hand to slap me, I had already made up my mind—
In this life, I'll be the one to drag her into hell.

To protect my older sister's piano championship, my own brother crushed all ten of my fingers.
To win my sister's favor, my fiancé hired someone to kick the baby out of me.
After surviving a fire that nearly killed me, I finally woke up.
And when I returned, I blasted the hard proof of their affair and their schemes all over the internet. As I watched them lose their minds, lose everything, and drop to their knees begging for mercy, I let out a cold laugh, turned around, and claimed the top of the world!

I am a princess of the deep sea. For love, I abandoned my crown and used ocean magic to help him rise from a penniless sailor to a duke of immense wealth.

On our tenth wedding anniversary, he slapped me in front of all the guests, tore the Ocean Crown from my head to place it on his mistress, and ripped away my reverse scales: "I'm sick of this freakish marriage to a monster!" Blood flowed down the coral cuts, and my unborn child miscarried in the humiliation.

The moment the first reverse scale fell from my chest, I forgot our first kiss. At the same time, his three gold-laden ships mysteriously sank on the windless sea.

The Abyssal Pact has been activated: seven reverse scales correspond to seven memories. With each scale that falls, I forget him a little more, while he loses all the wealth he gained through me.

When I took my last breath in that Harlem tenement, the final image burned into my dying eyes was Noah—my "perfect" fiancé—watching with manufactured anguish as the judge sentenced me for his crimes.

This golden boy manipulator had convinced me to take the fall for his drug charges, destroying my Oxford scholarship and Wall Street future.

Now I'm back, three days before that fatal graduation party.

This time, the gentle control freak can pay for his own stupidity.

I have seventy-two hours to strip away his saint mask and kick him off his pedestal—then climb over his corpse to claim my Wall Street throne.

When my family went bankrupt, my fiancé teamed up with my best friend and sold me to an underground club to pay off their debts.
To secure an investment, that scumbag handed me over to the most powerful kingmaker on Wall Street.
But the moment the call connected, I froze.
The big shot my cheating ex was groveling to was actually my first love—the man I dumped five years ago because he was poor.
Looking at the smug jerk who still had no idea who he was dealing with, I let out a cold laugh.
A deadly revenge game had just begun.

To win back his one true love, my husband sent me, pregnant and vulnerable, straight into the clutches of a rival mob's dungeon.
I was torn apart by vicious dogs, a brutal end for both me and my unborn child.
After death, my spirit drifted back home, only to hear him coldly chuckle, "Let her learn her lesson; she won't come back until she admits she was wrong."
It wasn't until a mangled, rotting body was dumped at his feet, and he saw the blood-soaked wedding ring on its finger, that this heartless mob boss finally snapped...

I grew up training in seclusion, intentionally sealing my royal aura to experience life as a regular werewolf. My family arranged a marriage for me a long time ago, and my fiancé is Derrick, the Alpha of a local pack. Today, I visit a high-end witch boutique to pick out an exclusive dress for my Mating Ball. I immediately spot a one-of-a-kind enchanted moonstone gown. Just as I reach out to take it.

A woman standing nearby shoots me a sideways glance and announces loudly to the people around her, "This dress looks pretty good. I'm taking it."

Before she even finishes her sentence, she steps forward and snatches the gown right out of my reach.

My face darkens, and I speak up to stop her. "First come, first served. I saw this dress first. Snatching it like that is way out of line."

She scoffs, looking me up and down with pure disgust. "This enchanted gown costs a fortune. Look at what you're wearing. Do you really think you're worthy of even touching it? I'm Selene, Alpha Derrick's mate. In this territory, Derrick is the law!"

How ironic. Derrick is the exact same fiancé my family arranged for me.

At the Blood Moon Luna coronation rehearsal, I wait alone at the altar for eight agonizing hours. My fated Alpha, Caleb, is nowhere to be seen.

Just as my legs go completely numb, his text finally comes through. "Elara, Lily from the Hollowthorn Clan got attacked by a rogue and is terrified. I have to stay here and calm her down. Let's just run through the coronation rehearsal tomorrow."

Right after that, Lily sends a photo. She is bundled up in Caleb's favorite black jacket. The caption is a deliberate stab to the heart. "Elara, Caleb's scent makes me feel so safe. I feel so bad you have to prep for the coronation all by yourself, but you're so strong. I'm sure you don't mind, right?"

I don't hesitate for a second. I dial the high priest's number. "Prepare the rejection ceremony. At tomorrow's coronation, I am unilaterally severing my mate bond with Caleb."

Ten years together. I bled for him on the battlefield and bore the weight of the entire pack's judgment alone, only to be abandoned at every major milestone so he could coddle an Omega who fakes weakness for sympathy. A cheap, used silver trinket is his idea of an apology. Fake attacks, public framing, malicious bidding wars at auctions. Piece by piece, they trampled all over my pride.

He thinks groveling and offering up territories can fix this. He doesn't realize that the moment he chose to fail me time and time again, I stopped wanting him. I don't give a damn about his leftover affection.

Elara is done being Caleb's backup Luna.

The night before the SAT, Instagram exploded with a viral post:

"Madison, tomorrow I'm going to confess my love to you with my SAT exam! I'll write you love letters in my English essay, bubble 'I LOVE YOU' on my math answer sheet, fill my physics test with your name......"

Below the text was a photo of two hands intertwined.

I tapped to enlarge it. The familiar scar on his right wrist stabbed straight through my heart.

Comments poured in below: "This is insane! What kind of earth-shattering love is worth sacrificing standardized test scores for?"

The blogger immediately responded: "No worries, I already got MIT early admission anyway. Taking the SAT is just a formality."

"But as long as she's happy, what are test scores anyway?"

I took a deep breath and closed my quantum physics notes.

Madison was the transfer student who arrived during senior spring.

And the person posting was my boyfriend Liam, who had just called me an hour ago encouraging me to do well on the test so we could attend the same university.

I exited Instagram and dialed MIT Admissions.

"Sir, regarding the joint-authorship application—I want to withdraw it."

I die a miserable death in the dungeon, drained of three hundred years of pure blood. I owe it all to Elena and my ridiculously biased clan.

In my previous life, I am the Chief Executioner of the Night Abyss clan. During our hunt for the Alpha Wolf, she drops her weapon and throws herself into Lucas's arms, playing the helpless victim.

I take the beast's attack head-on and suffer severe injuries. The other knights just shield her, turning around to accuse me of being petty and jealous.

Prince Marcus blatantly favors his illegitimate daughter, Elena. He snatches my magic core, constantly puts me down, and even rips the core out of my loyal wolf familiar, Fenrir. In the end, he drains my blood dry just to feed her.

Now that I am reborn, I return to the exact night we hunt the high-tier Alpha Wolf.

We'd been together for eight years when my childhood sweetheart took me to see the ocean.
We were in a terrible car crash.
In my final moments, he used his last strength to hold my hand.
"Thank you. I'm so lucky to have you."
I squeezed back through my tears as he took his final breath, and moments later, I followed.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back in senior year, coding day and night.
All so we could conquer Silicon Valley together, making up for our past life's regrets.
At the graduation party, he walked toward me with roses just like before.
"I want to tell you, I love you—"
My heart soared as I stood up.
"I love you too—"
He walked past me and handed the roses to the trust fund heiress.
In the stunned silence that followed, I finally understood—he wanted to rewrite his story.
When applying for grad school, I chose MIT, three thousand miles away from him.
I'd give him what he wanted, and finally pursue the dream I'd only found at forty-five.

Six years of hauling corpses. Six years of scraping maggots out of floorboards and suffocating in a toxic slurry of putrefying flesh and industrial solvents—all just to buy my husband a little more borrowed time.

I thought the thing I pulled back from the brink of death was a human being.

But the day my joint accounts were frozen... the moment my own son clamped a hand over his nose in disgust at my stench... the second I watched his mistress weeping softly into his chest... I finally realized the truth.

I hadn't saved a man. I had resurrected a pack of monsters, and they weren't going to stop until they ground me into the dirt.

At the Eternal Night Realm admission ceremony, Carly suddenly grabs my hand.

My heart pounds. I think he is going to announce our relationship to the entire continent.

Instead, he says, "Eve, thanks for everything these past five years. But Lym didn't make the cut. She's hurting right now, and I need to go back and be there for her."

He crushes the realm token right in front of thousands of people.

For five years, I hid my pureblood lord identity. I drained my magic until I literally coughed up blood, quietly paving every step of his way.

I thought we loved each other. I thought after this ceremony we would rise to the top together.

But his casual thanks for everything crushes five years of my devotion into dust.

What is even more laughable is that the moment the online backlash hits Lym, he calls me on the comms.

"Eve! You need to put out a statement to clear this up right now! As my friend, you owe me this!"

Friend?

My hand holding the crystal shakes.

Inside the private dining room, my seven-year-old daughter leans against the edge of the table. She waits for three hours, and her birthday cake melts. Dante texts me, claiming he is handling an "emergency arms deal" and telling us not to wait.

But his mistress's Instagram tells a completely different story.

She wears the limited-edition black diamond necklace Dante just bought, cozying up to someone in a top-tier club. The caption is blinding: "A real man always knows who comes first, even when bullets fly."

What is more brutal happens the next day. When stray bullets hit the casino, Dante actually shoves his own daughter away when she begs for help, turning his back to protect his mistress's nephew instead.

Looking at the bloody scratches on my daughter's arm, listening to him announce in public that "that boy is my only blood," my heart completely dies.

He doesn't know that to love him, the heir to the Romano Mafia family willingly suffered in the slums for seven years. And he treats our lives like garbage compared to an outsider.

Now, it is time to make him pay.

At our engagement party, my fiancé's first love confessed her feelings for him in front of everyone.
Without a second thought, he shoved me aside and ran after her, leaving me to be hit by a car.
While I was in the hospital, he brought her into our home and forced me to eat food I was allergic to.
Most absurd of all, he personally sent me to the operating table so I could give her my kidney.
She tortured my cat to death, and all he said was, "It was just a cat."
The day I decided to leave the country, he thought I had died in a plane crash. Then he got into a car accident and lost his memory, remembering only the version of us at eighteen—when we were in love.
Too bad some scars never fade.

When the Grand Duke, my contract master, noticed I hadn't submitted a requisition for magical resources in five days, he assumed I had finally learned to be a proper exclusive priestess. In a rare display of mercy, he ignited the communication crystal:

"I have arranged to resume your brother's treatments in the infirmary. Behave yourself from now on, and stop fabricating excuses to demand high-tier spirit stones."

"I know it isn't easy for someone from your dependent background, but the resources of my estate are not so easily scammed."

But what he didn't know was that five days ago, my brother had already died from a tragic magic riot.

Now that my brother is gone, it is time for me to leave as well.

I was betrayed, cheated on, and ruthlessly schemed against by my own husband. Cornered by him and his mistress, I was forced to leap off a cliff. No one expected that I would survive the fatal fall. I carved out a bloody path for myself in Silicon Valley and rose to become the sharpest, youngest queen across the entire capital circle. Three years later, he knelt before me in utter disarray, weeping brokenly. Meanwhile, draped in a white wedding gown, I was held securely in my bridegroom’s arms. It was in that moment that he finally comprehended—losing me was the harshest retribution he would ever endure for the rest of his life.

My brother chose my enemy, and the man I loved joined forces with her to sell me into a club.
Pregnancy, miscarriage, imprisonment, beatings—every cry for help I made was dismissed as "just an act."
It wasn't until I was truly dead that they lost their minds, dropping to their knees at my grave and sobbing that they were sorry.
But by then, I could no longer hear them.

When my own father pinned me against the reef and ripped my scales off one by one, my sister buried herself in my fiancé's arms and cried. "Don't blame my sister. She was born worthless."
Right there in front of everyone, they decided to offer me to the Sea God as a sacrifice. They couldn't even be bothered to send anyone to see me off.
But when I was dragged, half-dead, into the black prison, what came for me wasn't death.
It was the Sea God himself.
He wiped the blood from my tail and said, "Good. Let them keep piling on their sins. I'll make them drop to their knees and beg for your forgiveness."

I spent three years chasing the most popular guy on campus, only to be humiliated in front of the entire school.
My foster family treats me like a live-in maid. My biological father wants to drag me back into the gutter. And the loan sharks have made it clear that in three days, I'll be the one paying for my father's debt.
Everyone is waiting to see me fall apart.
What no one knows is that I already dreamed of the worst future waiting for me.

I caught my fiancé cheating with his ex in our bedroom—twins on the nightstand proved it had been going on for a year.

The alchemy vial slipped from my trembling fingers, shattering against the stone floor. There they were: Kaelen, the youngest Archmage on the continent, tangled in silk sheets with Lyra Elessar, the high-elf noble he'd supposedly rejected for me.

But it was the glowing parchment on the nightstand that destroyed me completely—a bloodline registry declaring him father to one-year-old twins.

I'd sacrificed my magic core to save his life three years ago, becoming powerless while he used that second chance to build a secret family. Every "council meeting," every "emergency" had been a lie to visit them.

When Lyra saw me, she didn't even flinch. She just smiled and said, "Looks like we're caught."

The humiliation burned hotter than heartbreak. I fled to the black market that very night, seeking the Death Merchant's ultimate service—complete disappearance.

"Seven days to prepare the ritual," he told me.

Seven days until I could vanish forever. Seven days to decide what the naive girl who'd loved him deserved as her final gift to herself.

The scalpel pressed against my chest, and I knew this heart would be carved out tonight as a gift for his white moonlight.

Five years ago, I was a medical genius. He was a dying vampire in the sewers. I gave up my humanity to save him, worked three jobs to fund his doctorate.

"Your heart has excellent quality. Perfect for Seraphina's transplant," he said coldly, slicing through my skin.

"Please... I just miscarried..." I weakly gripped the operating table's edge.

"Defective embryo. Good riddance." He cut my brother's oxygen tube, forcing me to cooperate with the surgery.

Blood pooled everywhere as I signed the organ donation form.

A year later, I stood at the pinnacle of vampire power while he knelt in the snow, begging for a drop of my blood to survive.

I poured it out, fertilizing the earth instead.

In my past life, I threw myself in front of the black panther alpha when his rut drove him into a frenzy—only to have him toss me into a pack of beasts and watch me get torn to pieces.
After being reborn, the first thing I did was rip off the royal crest pinned to my chest and swallow a suppressant, cutting off his control over me for good.
Everyone waited for me to come crawling back and beg for peace.
Instead, I turned and walked straight into the frozen Northlands, where the death rate was eighty percent.
There, through a severed arm, a ruined face, and the thin line between life and death, I awakened as the Platinum Lion King.
He dropped to his knees in the snow, crying and begging for forgiveness.
I only had one question for him: "What makes you think you're anything to me?"

A wealthy heir was ordered to seduce me, intending to photograph me in compromising positions to destroy my reputation.
At midnight, his hands trembled as he prepared to send the photos, but I coldly exposed his cowardice and ambition.
That night, he deleted all the evidence before my eyes, his gaze filled with complete fanaticism and submission.
Later, he knelt on one knee with a diamond ring, but I poured myself a drink: "I don't need a partner to share power with—I just need an obedient dog."

Pregnant?” A gleam crossed my eyes, and before I could control myself, tears began running down my eyes. My vision was blurry from the tears, but I still scanned the files, my heart beating loudly. A smile finally made its way to my face.

I looked at the nurse who was standing behind me, looking happy, but certainly not as happy as I was. Eight years. Eight years of barrenness, Eight years of crying and praying to the moon goddess, Eight years of tolerance to everything I passed through in the hands of my Alpha’s mother.

Because I'm a scentless wolf, I can never find my fated mate.

My bestie Lydia, claiming she fears I'll be deceived and betrayed, subjects every wolf who approaches me to a "love test." She seduces my suitors in every way possible, then sends me photos of them together after sleeping with them.

"See? He can't be faithful to you at all. Don't let him fool you," she always tells me.

I always believed her persuasion. After enduring twenty disastrous and short-lived relationships, I finally agreed to the arranged marriage my father set up for me, becoming the mate of Alpha Damon.

And Lydia never stopped her testing.

In my past life, I discovered Damon and Lydia's betrayal after our marriage, and was ultimately pushed off a cliff by Lydia to my death.

The Moon Goddess granted me rebirth, bringing me back to right after the mating ceremony. This time, I will have my revenge.

My boyfriend's mistress deliberately gave me a strawberry cake that I'm allergic to.
After I went into anaphylactic shock and had a miscarriage, I knew it was all over.
But when I left it all behind and went back to my hometown, he showed up at my door telling me to quit throwing a fit, that he still loved me.
This kind of love full of betrayal?
I don't want it.

The Enforcement Corps hauled me out of my apartment in the middle of the night and dumped me at the Southside Precinct.

The subordinate I'd trained myself had scratch marks all over her neck and collarbone, and she was shaking so hard she could barely stay on her feet.

The second she saw me, she pointed and started screaming that my mate had raped her.

"Director Cordelia, I've always looked up to you. You can't sic your mate on me just because I disagreed with you in a meeting!"

My brain just went blank. Because I don't have a mate.

I made a blood pact with the same man seven times, and broke it seven times.

And this vampire lord also severed our bond seven times for his moonlight goddess.

When we first made the pact, he knelt on one knee and said to me: "For the rest of eternity, my blood and flesh belong only to you."

But whenever his moonlight goddess awakened, the man would change his tune: "Can't you be more understanding? Do you really want Lilith to bear the shame of seducing a married man?"

The first time we broke the pact, I violently tore the contract trying to keep him, the backlash made me vomit blood and faint, yet I never saw him come to check on me.

The third time we broke the pact, I disguised myself as a servant at his banquet, just for a chance to see him one more time.

The sixth time we broke the pact, I had learned to quietly pack my things and move out of our castle by myself.

My hysteria, my endless compromises, my obedient compliance,

earned me his punctual returns for renewal,

and his repeated betrayals.

Until this time, when I received news that his moonlight goddess was about to awaken, I proactively placed the severance agreement before him.

He made our usual appointment for renewal as always, not knowing that

this time, I would leave forever.

Because next month's full moon night would be the coronation ceremony for me, this "walking blood bank," as the Ancestor.

At our engagement party, Eli demands I sign a hundred-thousand-dollar check to bail out his first love, Aila.

I cave, pouring everything I have into paving the way for his future.

But he pays off a nurse to slip me abortion pills, manipulates the training equipment to crush my pelvis, and causes me to hemorrhage and miscarry.

While I lie in the hospital fighting for my life, he spreads rumors about my promiscuity, burns my cherished nautical collection to ashes, and scatters them over Aila's grave.

He steps on my spine to get his acceptance letter to the top maritime academy, trading my life for his future.

After gaining power, he frames my brother, ruining his promotion to captain, and eventually tramples my entire shipping family under his feet.

I die full of resentment, only to wake up to Eli slamming his hand on the table and screaming at me. Aila is trapped in an underground club! Sign this check right now! If I don't get the money to bail her out, she's dead tonight!

My brother chose my enemy, and the man I loved joined forces with her to sell me into a club.
Pregnancy, miscarriage, imprisonment, beatings—every cry for help I made was dismissed as "just an act."
It wasn't until I was truly dead that they lost their minds, dropping to their knees at my grave and sobbing that they were sorry.
But by then, I could no longer hear them.

My biological parents and my fiancé shove me into a sterile room for a forced drug trial. The chemicals completely destroy my cranial nerves.

They lie about my adopted sister Mia having a terminal illness, using my college admission and trust fund as leverage to make me sacrifice myself.

I used to put my life on the line for Liam, staying up all night to finish his homework, draining everything I had to please my family.

But they are putting on an act from the very beginning. Mia isn't sick. The drug trial is just a front for money laundering.

Stripped of all love, hate, and empathy, I am left with only cold logic after enduring imprisonment, beatings, and endless injections.

Afterward, Liam falls to his knees, sobbing and begging to get back together. I dodge his touch with a blank face.

"Don't come near me. The smell of you makes me physically sick."

On my son's seventh birthday, he hid behind my husband's first love and shouted at me, "You're a bad woman! She's my real mom!"
My husband was even crueler. He threw me out of the house without a second thought.
"To me, you were nothing but a surrogate."
Heartbroken, I walked away—and later adopted an abandoned little boy.
Years passed, when my husband finally learned the truth about the woman he had always protected, he came to me with our biological son, both of them kneeling before me in tears, begging for forgiveness.
Holding my adopted son's hand, I smiled calmly.
"Sorry. I only have one son."

My daughter was choked until her face turned purple by the mistress's son, then nearly died after my ex-husband forced her to give blood.
She was beaten, cursed at, and abandoned on a bench outside the hospital.
And I could do nothing to help her.
Because I had already died eight years ago.
It wasn't until my daughter collapsed crying at my grave—and the story made the news—that my ex-husband finally learned the truth.
He had destroyed both me and the child we shared in the cruelest way possible.
And by then, there was no fixing it.

At the scene of the car accident, my parents frantically scooped up my sister—who only had a scraped knee—then kicked me aside as I lay there dying.
"Don't be a burden to your sister. Just wait by the roadside and croak!"
They drove off without a second thought. In that moment, my heart turned to stone.
What they didn't know was that I didn't die. Instead, I got adopted by a top-tier professor and became a math prodigy worth tens of millions.
Two years later, when my birth parents went bankrupt and got on their knees begging me for a handout, I smiled coldly and played the recording of their attempted murder...

Everyone in town said I dumped my blind boyfriend because I couldn't stand being poor.
Five years later, I'd become a blind drifter myself, relying on handouts just to eat.
And he'd become one of Silicon Valley's hottest rising tech moguls.
He recognized me, but pretended he didn't.
He wanted me on my knees. Wanted me begging. Wanted me to pay for "abandoning" him.
Until he found out the person who gave up everything for him back then was no one else...
But me.

In my past life, I was pregnant and met a gruesome end, torn apart by the mad dog my cop husband kept, taking both my life and my baby's.
When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day I discovered I was pregnant.
My seemingly perfect husband, the epitome of a good man, smiled as he brought me muffins laced with rat poison. My seemingly kind in-laws watched me intently, eager for me to swallow the deadly treat...
That's when it hit me: the perfect marriage I thought I had was actually a family conspiracy for murder!
This time, I refuse to be the lamb led to slaughter. If you want my life and my child's, then you'll all be begging for mercy in hell!

I am the wife of a mafia boss.

When a rival family raids our estate, I take the fatal bullets meant for my sister-in-law.

When my husband, Vittorio, arrives, I give him a weak, relieved smile.

Instead of helping me, he points the muzzle of his gun right between my eyes.

"The perimeter alarms didn't trip," his consigliere, Lorenzo, says. "Only an inside job. Boss, this marriage was a trap from day one."

I kneel on the floor, begging him to just look at the bullet wounds on my chest.

Vittorio just grinds his shoe into my broken collarbone.

"The docks. Smuggling freezer three. Let twenty below zero teach her some loyalty."

They drag me into that steel tomb reserved for traitors.

"Vittorio! I never betrayed you! I saved Bella!"

The life monitor beeps weakly, but he rips out the wire.

"Just static. Don't waste energy on a dead traitor."

By the time he learns the truth, I am nothing but a blue, frozen corpse curled up in the ice.

Her hands slid up to his chest, palms flat, feeling the solid strength beneath his shirt. The fear didn’t vanish completely. But it quieted. Receded into the background. Logan’s thumb brushed her cheek, slow and grounding, as his other hand settled at her waist.

The kiss grew warmer. Slower. Logan felt it too, sharp and electric. His wolf stirred restlessly, recognizing something it shouldn’t, something it wanted to claim even as his mind warned him to stop. He broke the kiss first, breathing hard, forehead resting against hers.

“Emily,” he murmured, strained. “We should—” She didn’t let him finish. Her lips brushed his jaw, tentative, almost questioning. Her voice was barely a whisper. “Don’t send me away.”


After being betrayed forty-eight times by her mate, Oscar, Emily is drugged and offered to powerful wolves for his gain. Desperate and fleeing danger, she collapses into the arms of Lucas Walker, one of seven feared Alpha Brothers who rule the strongest pack. Drawn to her by an unstoppable pull, the brothers vow to protect her. But Emily’s past hides a darker secret, one that fate has bound to all of them.

Olympia was sold during the Annual Omega Bidding to the powerful and arrogant Alpha King, Alpha Fabian, who owns a five-star night club. Every year, he recruits Omegas to serve as strippers in the club. Others, to serve his top clients in the bedroom.
Most sold off by their relatives.
Once recruited here, chances of escaping and getting a fated mate are slim as the Omegas are considered used.
He’s the most powerful Alpha King in the world, no one can question him.
Leaving her family behind and worse, being sold off by her stepdad haunted her.
Upon arrival at the palace, she got into an issue with one of the task masters overseeing the royal maids.
At the verge of punishment, she’s rescued by a cool, charming gentleman when everyone else watches. Olympia fell for him at first sight, only to discover they are quadruplets.
Alpha Fabian, upon discovering her first day rebellion, as punishment, handed her over to his ruthless quadruplet sons as their personal callgirl.
Alpha Elliott, Asher and Ryder soon realize she’s their mate and are more than eager to tame her, not only physically but in bed but she hates them. They are Enigma Alphas, too dangerous for an Omega like her.
But she loves only one.
Alpha Cassius. The Alpha who saved her.
But what will be her fate as Alpha Cassius is an Enigma. He's an exorcist, regarded as consecrated mate of the moon goddess yet he's the only one among the Alpha princes she wants most, her wolf desires, her body arches for.
What will become of this intense forbidden passion between an Omega slave and the charming exorcist who is trying hard to fight demons and his feral desires at the same time?

Every July, my husband left for a business trip to France—so for seven full years of marriage, we never once got to celebrate our wedding anniversary.
This time, I flew all the way to France to surprise him, and mid-flight, I stumbled across a social media post.
My dream girl finally agreed to be with me. How do I make the frumpy, worn-out wife back home file for divorce on her own?
The OP poured out his grievances in the comment section:
When my dream girl suddenly moved abroad, I married her former best friend to keep me company through the hard times, just so I wouldn’t lose touch with her completely.
Now she’s finally said yes to being with me, and I’ve made enough to give her the lavish, privileged life she deserves.
I want my wife to find out about my affair herself so I can get a clean divorce without a fight, but she’s so painfully oblivious. I’ve come home reeking of my dream girl’s perfume on purpose, and every single July I fly here to France for our private time together, watching the lavender bloom in Provence with her. She never noticed a thing.
Perfume. July. France.
Those matching details made my fingers go numb. A deafening buzz exploded in my skull. A bone-deep chill washed over me, and I prayed with everything I had that it was all just a terrible coincidence.
Until I read the final line.
Just got a spending alert from her supplementary credit card—she bought a flight to France. I’m heading to pick up my dream girl now, might as well keep an eye out for her, just in case.
The plane touched down. When I stepped into the arrivals hall, I lifted my head almost instinctively.
There stood Shen Sinian, the man I hadn’t seen in two weeks, in a crisp, tailored suit, a bouquet of roses in his hand, locked in a passionate kiss with a woman with a stunning, willowy figure, her back to me.
He opened his eyes by chance, and through the crowd of travelers, his gaze locked directly with mine.

When her fated mate chooses her best friend, Euphyllia Ivara Ruinart discovers a cruel truth that she has been reborn countless times, only to be betrayed in every life.

In her despair, one forbidden night binds her to Lucretius Xior Franciosa, Alpha of the Golden Eclipse Pack, commander in the royal military, and her mate's own uncle and sworn enemy. From that night on, cryptic notes and a single chrysanthemum begin to appear, which she soon discovers are from him. It's his constant reminder that she is being watched, claimed, and marked as his.

Then comes his offer: vengeance, in exchange for her body, her trust, and perhaps even her soul. A deal with the devil, which she accepts, swearing to destroy the mate who cast her aside and the friend who betrayed her.

What starts as revenge becomes an entanglement with his darkness, where obsession devours love and ruin is the only end. But amidst the chaos of betrayal and desire, Euphyllia yearns to uncover the mystery of her past lives and discover who she truly is.

In my previous life, my wife was addicted to black market gambling on football, which caused us to lose everything.
To make matters worse, a zombie horde then broke out.
We had no shelter and were quickly torn apart by a horde of frenzied zombies.
After being reborn, she planned to run off with all the money, then dump me and elope with her lover.
What she didn't know was that I had awakened the ability to read minds and knew all her plans.