88 Book(s) Related to cracker leo

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!

"You're nothing but a replacement."

My husband said it with his eyes every time he looked through me to see her face. His mistress said it with that slow, satisfied smile. My own brother—the one I would have died for—proved it the night I saw him looking at her like she hung the moon.

I married a man who never once saw me.

I worked myself hollow for a family that used me like a tool and called it marriage. I gave up my career, my research, my dignity. I even gave up the right to be sick—because I have stage-four cancer and I haven't told a single soul.

I'm dying. And nobody knows.

But here's what they didn't count on: I'm not gone yet.

Before I go, I'm taking everything back.

Some women burn quietly until there's nothing left.

I'm done burning quietly.

Growing up, if Cecily so much as frowned, whatever I was holding would be ripped from my hands. If she coughed twice, I’d be sent to kneel out in the snow to reflect on how I had "failed to take proper care of my sister."

In adulthood, their favoritism remained unchanged—only it grew deadlier.

My father would slam his fist against the table, threatening to freeze my trust fund and kick me out of the Vance family.

My mother would stare at me with red, tearful eyes, accusing me of "stealing your sister's nutrients in the womb."

Even Declan, my husband on paper, would constantly lecture me about being "reasonable" and "compliant," trying to pressure me into signing a "Volunteer Experimental Trial Consent Form" for Cecily's sake.

An unapproved, illegal human trial.

In the past, I would have cried. I would have looked at them and asked, "When did any of you ever look at me and see a daughter?"

That was until the day I got my own medical report back.

[Terminal Congenital Heart Failure.]

Seven days left to live.

When my father threw that consent form on the table again, using my banishment as collateral; when my mother sobbed, begging me to "take the hit" for my sister; when Declan tried to coax me, promising "just cooperate, it’ll be over soon"—I finally picked up the pen.

I signed my name on an experimental trial waiver with a 90% mortality rate.

They all smiled with relief. They told me I was finally being mature.

What they didn't know was that my time was already up.

I was reborn on the exact night my guardian, Caleb, was consumed by a drug-induced rut.

This time, I didn't hesitate. I dialed his fated Luna directly. "Your Alpha is in rut. You have ten minutes to come collect him."

In my past life, I loved the Alpha who took me in. I gave him everything when he needed it most, throwing myself into the fire just to save him, even bearing his pup.

But that same night, his precious "white moon"—Selena—went out for a walk, only to be dragged away and slaughtered by rogues.

She had mind-linked him thirty-three times before she died. But he was with me, delivering our baby, and he blocked her out.

For that, my reward was a silver collar piercing my scent glands in the cold dungeons. I was forced to watch my baby die in agony, my last sight in this world being Caleb’s eyes, filled with pure, unadulterated disgust.

"If you hadn't refused to call Selena that night, if you hadn't been such a whore begging for my bed, she would never have died."

"You and this bastard pup... the world is cleaner with you both dead."

I blinked, and the nightmare shattered. I was back. Back to the exact night the aphrodisiac triggered his rut.

Kane was the undisputed tyrant of our high school, notoriously ruthless with his words.

I’d always been on the curvier side. When the new, form-fitting cheer uniforms arrived at the locker room, Kane hadn't held back his mocking laugh.

"Are you seriously going to parade around in that?" he had sneered. "Please. You look like a pig about to burst out of its casing. It's embarrassing."

I couldn’t begin to count the number of times I’d mentally broken down over Kane’s acidic remarks. But every time, I forced myself to swallow the humiliation.

Why? Because he was the state's most coveted star quarterback.

Because whenever someone else tried to give me hell, he’d step in with that fiercely impatient, undeniably protective attitude of his. That was my justification.

That was, until the eve of the State Championship.

Daisy, a nobody freshman who had barely scraped her way onto the cheer squad, took the confidential playbook our team had spent three agonizing months perfecting, and handed it straight to our biggest rivals.

Normally, Kane would have sneered and verbally shredded the culprit until there was nothing left of their dignity.

But this time? He just stepped forward, pulled a pack of tissues from the pocket of his expensive letterman jacket, tossed it at Daisy’s feet, and looked away.

"Stop crying," he said, his voice strangely subdued. "The damage is done, and tears won't fix a damn thing. Besides, your face gets all red and swollen when you cry. It's an ugly look."

I was eight weeks pregnant when I suffered a violent hemorrhage inside the café’s restroom. Clutching my bleeding abdomen, I called my husband fourteen times—only to be labeled a hysterical faker. That same night, he toasted champagne with his young female assistant in his arms without a single shred of guilt.
Three days later, surveillance footage exposed the truth. The woman he cherished had been the one who shoved me down the staircase on purpose.
The night I lost our child, he was out raising his glass in celebration.
Fine. I will make them pay for every single thing they’ve done.

In my previous life, I chose the werewolf and gave birth to the Arbiter, only to be burned alive by the younger sister I loved most.
When I was reborn, I knelt before the Oath Stone, handed my marriage pact to her, and watched her gloat in triumph before choosing Sylas, the elf everyone else avoided.
Everyone was waiting to see me make a fool of myself—until the day of the wedding, when he came carrying a gown blessed by the Sacred Tree, lowered his eyes to me, and said, "In this life, I will never fail you."

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!

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...

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 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.

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."

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."

On my wedding night, I discovered the man in my bed wasn't my husband.
It was his twin brother—the one the family had exiled.
In my previous life, I exposed them in a rage.
My cheating husband came back, smashed my head open, and threw me into the ocean to be fed to the sharks.
But this time, reborn with a second chance, I cupped the face of the man in front of me—the face identical to my husband's—and slowly untied my wedding dress.
"Since he personally delivered you to my bed, then from now on... you're the husband."
This time, I'm going to raise up the loyal stand-in, and take everything from that bastard.

In my past life, my brother-in-law predicted the coming of an extreme cold apocalypse and claimed he would awaken a spatial ability on the day it arrived.
I didn't believe him, but under pressure from my wife's family, I purchased supplies anyway. Then the frozen apocalypse actually came.
I thought we'd survive together as a family, but my brother-in-law had bragged about his spatial ability and massive supplies before awakening. When his ability manifested, the space was pitifully small, and everyone he'd told came to rob us.
When food ran out, my wife's family turned on me, killing and eating me.
Reborn, I've decided to take revenge on my wife's entire family. And it all starts with secretly building my own shelter.

On the seventh wedding anniversary, I woke up in the lounge and found a big word "BITCH" sprayed with red paint on my chest.
The culprit, holding a spray-paint can, had a naive-looking smile on her face and said, "I'm doing you a favor. Your white outfit's way too boring."
I was just about to take action when my husband rushed in to protect her, frowning and scolding me: "She's just a little girl; she doesn't know any better. Do you have to be so petty?"
At this moment, looking at the man in front of me who had risen because of my family's influence, I suddenly laughed.
He probably forgot who had given him this overwhelming wealth.
I unscrewed the red-tipped thick paint pen and walked step by step towards the trembling girl.
"Your face is boring, too. Let me do you a favor."
As for my husband?
I'll make him know that without me, he's worse than a dog.

“You don’t know me,” he murmured, pressing me against the mirrored wall of the room, his gaze sharp, burning with an intensity that made my heart race. “But your fiancé calls me ‘Uncle.’”
Uncle?
I gasped, trying and failing to stay composed. “Then why are you here?”
He leaned in, his voice low, almost a whisper. “To stop you from making the biggest mistake of your life—by marrying me instead.

Celeste Ashford had always been the perfect daughter—silent, obedient, and engaged to the man her family chose. But perfection is a prison, and the price is her life. Betrayed by her fiancé and half-sister and murdered by her stepmother, Celeste’s story should have ended in the coldness of a hospital room.
But fate had other plans.
She is reborn a month before her death, Celeste makes a choice that shatters the Ashford legacy—she walks away from her engagement and marries his uncle instead. Lucien Blackwell is cold, calculating, and infuriatingly untouchable. Their marriage is a contract. Their chemistry, undeniable. But behind his detached mask lies a secret powerful enough to bring empires to their knees—just like the one Celeste plans to burn down.
As lies unravel and enemies close in, Celeste discovers that her new husband isn’t who he claims to be. Neither is she. Because this time, she’s the woman rewriting the rules.
This time, she is out for revenge.

I had two lives -- a night life and a day life.


"That pretty face can't be stained. Come on, get ready, and get as many clients as you can. I'll make sure I'm the favorite and that you choose me."

EVE is a famous stripper in the region. Going out with lots of men and making money every day, her name is all over the place when it comes to desire.

What few people know is that EVE is Amelie's second personality, an entrepreneur. However, the arrival of a billionaire client changes everything.

Carbon Moz spares no effort when it comes to getting what he wants, and EVE is what he wants. On the other hand, Axel and Dorian - Amelie/EVE's friends and partners — also have feelings for her, forcing them into direct confrontation with Carbon.

Filled with desire and men at her feet, the stripper has to face the reality that casual nights of sex are not enough.

She wants more.

“You don’t have a choice.”
“I do. I can hate you until the end.”
He laughed, gripping her chin. “Hate me all you want—but call me sir when I make you beg for more.”
She tried to pull away, but she was already trapped between the wall and his body, the heat of male power crushing the air from her lungs. Hatred burned—but desire… was even crueler.
He is Vicenzo Moretti, known as Ice Heart—a CEO who built empires of casinos and luxury resorts while hiding the underworld he rules with an iron fist. A man carved by scars, orphaned by violence, a survivor who swore he would never love again.
She is Giulia Salvatore, granddaughter of a mobster he vowed to destroy. Rebellious, proud, and willing to sacrifice everything to uncover who murdered the man she loved.
When the death of his best friend explodes into mystery, Vicenzo accuses Giulia and traps her in a contract: wife for the media, slave in bed. What begins as revenge turns into a dangerous game of domination and surrender—where every exposed scar brings them closer… and tears them apart.
Will Ice Heart fall to the one feeling he swore to kill?
Or will Giulia pay the ultimate price for daring to challenge the monster?

In a dystopian America in the year 2040, women have been stripped of their rights and forced into subservience under the draconian Liberty Control Act. The nation is a surveillance state, cloaked in the illusion of order and morality—but beneath the surface, rebellion simmers.

Daniel Sheridan, a brilliant but cautious woman, hides her identity behind the digital persona of LibertyRose, a masked OnlyFans model. Through her seductive but anonymous livestreams, she maintains independence in a society designed to cage her. But everything changes the night she joins a secret chatroom and meets Eric—a mysterious rebel leader—and Trevor, a wealthy and dangerous man who becomes obsessed with claiming her.

When Daniel’s identity is exposed, and she narrowly survives Trevor’s brutal attack, her world shatters. But from the ashes, a new purpose rises. With Eric's help, Daniel steps into the heart of an underground resistance. As she uncovers horrifying government secrets and learns the truth about Eric’s past, Daniel becomes the reluctant face of a revolution.

Blending dystopian tension, high-heat romance, and emotional resilience, The Mask of Liberty follows one woman’s journey from survival to leadership, as she ignites a movement that could bring an empire to its knees.

“He was my fiancé’s uncle…
the Alpha King feared across the continent.

I was supposed to marry his nephew, seal an alliance between our clans, and live a perfect life.
Instead, I found betrayal waiting for me at the altar—a sex tape, a lie, and two wolves who broke my heart.

When I ran, it was his car that stopped beside me.
“Get in,” he said.

Now I’m caught between the man who ruined me and the one who could destroy me.
He’s older, colder, and far more dangerous…
but every time he looks at me, my wolf kneels.

They say the Alpha King doesn’t love.
They’re wrong…he just hasn’t loved me yet.

When Brenna’s father sells her to a band of passing warriors, her only thought is to survive. She doesn’t expect to be claimed by the two fearsome warriors who lead the Berserker clan. Kept in captivity, she is coddled and cared for, treated more like a savior than a slave. But when Brenna discovers the truth behind the myth of the fearsome warriors, she must choose: remain a captive or give into love as the Alpha's true mate.  Author's note: The Alpha's Captive is a compilation of previously published titles, Sold to the Berserkers & Mated to the Berserkers.

Warning: 18+ only. Featuring hardcore taboo and age-gap erotica.

This is an erotic boxset containing twelve stories of irresistible steam, steam, fun, and naughty stories. If you're not up to eighteen, this book is not for you.

Get ready to be intrigued. To feel. To...sin.

Warning: 18+ only. Featuring hardcore taboo and age-gap erotica.
This is an erotic boxset containing twelve stories of irresistible steam, fun, and naughty stories. If you're not up to eighteen, this book is not for you.
Get ready to be intrigued. To feel. To...burn.

"Now, let's discuss your shorts." A big hand slips under the blanket and glides down my knees to my innermost thighs, a finger finding my pussy, and sinking in. "You are a naughty, naughty girl. Did you wear this to torture me? Answer me."
"Yes," I manage after two gulped breaths. "I wore it for you." With no panties. Everything bare.
"You want me that bad, Theresa? You want me worked up, right? Feral, agitated, hopelessly turned on, huh?"
My lips part as he shifts the stethoscope, listening to my heart pound as I answer. "Y-yes."
"Say it. I want to hear every word."
"I wore shorts to turn you on, Dr Storm. Every time." Excitement flourishes in my stomach, and I ride it like a tidal wave. "I wore it so you could..."
He waits, bristling with impatience as I trail off. A muscle leaps in his jaw, and his whole sculpted body is tense beneath me. "So I could what, Theresa? So I could what?"
The silence is so loud, the tension so thick, his eyes so intense, so needy to hear the words, I feel my toes curl.
"So, you could put your hand up there, Dr Storm. So, you could touch me."

At the age of twenty seven, Amaya White has been dumped more times than she could remember. She's got a happy family, perfect body, dream job, but a spiteful boss who seemingly always ruins her chances of getting her greatest wish granted.
What's her greatest wish?
That would be to get her cherry popped in the hardest and craziest way ever.
Weird right?
Billionaire Jacques Dickens is one of the most influential young CEO in Australia. He's a man with a poker face, cold personality and hardened heart.
Dating isn't his thing.
Love is thorn on his skin.
Everyday he works his @ss off just to make RORY'S WEARS the best.
The company his late father had left in his care. The company he has to protect from the prying clasps of his toxic stepmother.
Just when he thought he's taking it to the next level, he lost his company and his life and everything became meaningless. However, he was lucky enough to be given another chance. A new life to set things right.
Will he be able to make the best use of his second life?

"What is this?" Tyler asked, reading what I wrote.

"That is what you say in response," Tyler looked even more confused.

I took a deep breath, trying not to cry even more. There would be plenty of time for that later.

"I, Jessica Ridgewood, reject you Tyler Goen as my mate," Pain started to throb in my chest.

Tyler looked down at the paper, then back up to me. I nodded for him to continue.

"I, Tyler Goen, accept your rejection as my mate and Alpha," He recited. The throbbing pain in my chest turned sharp, and I doubled over as I clutched my chest.

"Jessica! What just happened?" Tyler asked, his voice quivering.

"I released you, Ty," I said through my pain.

"What?! No! I don't want to reject you! I love you!" Tyler said.


As a rare female Alpha, Jessica unexpectedly encountered her human mate, Tyler. Her parents were excited to meet him and welcomed him into the wolf pack. This would make Tyler the first human mate to an Alpha, but not everyone was enthusiastic about a female Alpha and her human mate leading the pack.

Upon their return to the pack, a grim scene awaited them—massacre and the tragic loss of Jessica's parents.

With scant time for grief, Jessica swiftly gathered herself to shoulder the mantle of pack leadership and ensure the safety of its members.

Afraid of Tyler's safety as the only human in a werewolf pack that had been attacked by humans, Jessica had no choice but to reject the mate bond with Tyler.

Will Tyler agree to leave Jessica? What will happen between them? Read to learn more.

"You're an omega. This was never going to work."
He believed that. She made sure it was the last time anyone ever said it to her.

Death is the price of loving the wrong wolf.

In Silverpine, the law is clear. An Alpha does not mate an omega. The punishment is swift and final.

Freda Anderson learned that truth under the Harvest Moon. One reckless night. One impossible bond. One Alpha who swore he would fight for her, then stood before his pack and called her a mistake.

She walked away with nothing but her pride and a secret growing inside her.

Five years later, she is no longer the broken omega they cast aside.

Now she is Freda Anders. Mediator. Negotiator. The woman powerful packs call when war is at their door. She steps into impossible rooms and walks out with signed agreements. She built herself into someone no one can silence. No one can shame. No one can discard.

She just never expected Silverpine to be the client.

A territorial dispute threatens to drag the pack into open bloodshed. Desperate, they reach beyond their borders for the best in the business. They do not know who she used to be. They do not know what she carries with her.

They do not know that the quiet boy at her side has the Alpha’s golden eyes.

And Lucian does not know that the child staring back at him carries his blood.

Five years of silence. Five years of secrets. Five years of a bond that refused to break.

The truth is coming home.

And this time, Freda is not the girl he rejected.

She is the reckoning.

There can never be more embarrassing than finding a naked guy in the middle of nowhere, but he is asking for help, and Sybil doesn’t have the heart to leave him alone. And so, she takes him home. Ace proves himself to be a decent guy. But what can be worse than two strangers with no memories falling in love and then later finding out the sad truth their memories hide?
Little do they know… the worst is yet to come.
Are they ready for it?
Will their love story lead to a happy ending, or will they choose vengeance instead of love?

“She is my Luna. My only. Touch her, and you answer to me.”


Derek Livingston was the Nightfang Pack’s golden boy—until betrayal in a sacred hunt shattered everything. His wolf bound, his power stolen, he went from revered heir to the pack’s biggest joke. A broken Alpha, with nothing left but anger and disdain.

“Leftovers? That’s what they gave me for a mate?” Derek scoffed, staring at the quiet girl sent to him in a political trade. Amanda Kingswell, the Emberfang Pack’s most invisible daughter—overlooked, unassuming, and completely beneath him. Or so he thought.

Amanda had spent her life hiding in her “perfect” sister’s shadow—quiet, sharp, and desperate to break free. She thought her fate was to be a pawn in a loveless marriage… until she discovered her secret: she’s the only one who can shatter Derek’s curse.

First meeting? Pure hostility. He mocked her weakness, she hated his cruelty—neither wanted anything to do with the other. But when Amanda’s untamed blood gift awakens, and Derek’s bound wolf stirs, they’re forced together. And soon, they realize: this “absurd” marriage was never an accident—it was fate.

Family secrets unravel, and the betrayal that destroyed Derek is darker than either could have imagined. But with Amanda’s power, the broken Alpha rises—stronger, deadlier, and ready to claim his throne. And when he roars to the pack, his voice shakes the ground: “She is my Luna, my only Luna!”

Serena is looking for one night with a Daddy Dom and she finds the perfect man in a sex club. The Daddy believes he's found perfection too and races to find her after she runs away. What will Serena do when she finds out Daddy wants to share her with his friends? Will she balk or will she dive right in?