2637 Book(s) Related to that time i was summoned as a first-level monster

My fiancé, Liam Miller, slapped me more than a dozen times in front of everyone over his childhood sweetheart.
Then he shoved me down a spiral staircase.
Both my legs were shattered. My skull cracked open. I spent an entire month in the ICU.
He never came to see me.
Not once.
He was too busy staying by Sophia’s side, planning her birthday party, and getting down on one knee in front of everyone to propose to her.
As for me, I couldn’t even get through the doors of his headquarters anymore. My access had been revoked. My position had been taken. Every trace of my place in his world had been erased.
Nine years.
From nineteen to twenty-eight, I gave him the best years of my life.
In the end, I had given them to the wrong man.
On the day I was discharged, I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream. I didn’t cling to him and beg for answers.
I simply called my mother.
“Mom,” I said calmly, “that overseas mafia empire you wanted me to inherit? I’m ready to take it.”
There was a brief silence on the other end.
Then my mother said, “I’ve waited ten years for this day.”
The night before my flight, Liam’s messages flooded my phone.
“Emma, I was wrong. Don’t go.”
What do you think?
Would I ever look back?

Have you ever been treated like a stand-in for your dead sibling by your own mother? I have.

Have you ever been murdered by your own mother? I have.

My name is Aira, and today is my sister Lily's birthday. It's also the anniversary of my death—the day the washing machine became my coffin.

"Why couldn't it have been you who died?"

After four long years, my mom finally got her wish.

Kael ruined my life, drained my divine blood, and framed me for murder in my past life. Given a second chance, I reject his fake tenderness and tear down every lie he built. The almighty Dark Duke who once played with my life now craves only my mercy. He abandons his army, destroys his status, and begs for my punishment. I end his tyranny, chain him with my golden blood, and turn my worst tormentor into my most obedient hound.

On my wedding anniversary, I died a brutal death, drained of every drop of blood by my husband’s socalled “sacred snow ferret”. That creature was Sylvia, his longdead true love striving for rebirth. For three long years, I was nothing more than a disposable blood vessel. Even my own son betrayed me for hollow, false affection.
Given a second chance at life, I cast aside all foolish mercy. I watched coldly as my hypocritical mage husband and traitorous son doted on the ferret, and documented every one of their heinous crimes.
I turned his longawaited reunion into a boneandflesh feast.
When the Templar tribunal finally arrived to pass judgment, I broke free from the cage of my old life and stepped out toward my own boundless freedom.

The adoptive brother I'd been secretly in love with for a decade took my virginity on the night of my twentieth birthday, fueled by alcohol.

I thought I had finally found love.

Until I stood outside his half-open apartment door and heard his teammates mocking me.

"Damn, Dax, you actually slept with Elara? That boring good girl?"

My hand froze mid-air above the doorknob.

Dax's tone was dripping with contempt. "Look closely at her face. It's exactly like Cassandra's, isn't it?"

"It's no big deal. She revolves around me every single day. All it took was crooking a finger."

"With Cassandra gone, she's the perfect stand-in to kill time."

The room instantly erupted into a fit of unbridled, mocking laughter.

I dug my nails fiercely into my palms, opened my phone, and found the email I had deliberately ignored for a month.

[Florence Academy of Fine Arts — Exchange Program Confirmation]

Three years ago, my best friend Juliana Pierce was raped and jumped from a twelve-story building. I was there. I saw everything. I know exactly who did it.

Alexander Knight—Juliana's boyfriend, brilliant scientist, the man I've secretly loved for seven years—has spent every moment since hunting for answers. He believes I'm shielding a predator. He's dedicated his life to making mine hell.

Now I'm dying of ALS, and Alexander's dragged my broken body onto his "Memory Judgment Stage" for the world to see. His new technology can rip memories straight from my brain and broadcast them as holograms.

"Tell them who killed Juliana," he shouted.

I refuse. So he cranks up the machine, letting the neural probes tear through my dying brain. My hand shatters. My body convulses. But I won't break.

Until the memories start bleeding out anyway.

And when Alexander sees the rapist's face—Completely loses his mind.

I was born able to see threads tying certain people to one another. A thin red thread stretched right above Mom and Dad’s heads.
I hurried over to Mom at once. “Mom, why is there a red thread connecting you and Dad?”
Mom laughed when she heard me, booping my nose fondly.
“That’s proof that Daddy loves me.”
Later, at our family gathering, Aunt Celia brought me a present just like she always did.
“Luna? Come see what Auntie brought you.”
I trotted over and found a cloth doll.
Just then, Dad walked up, knelt down beside me, and stroked my head.
“Luna, what do you say?”
I glanced up at Dad, then turned to look at Aunt Celia.
Little me was filled with huge confusion.
“It’s weird. Why is there such a thick red thread connecting Dad and Celia?”

Three years ago, on a night when it wouldn't stop raining, I carried Victor Caster out of a pile of bodies.

He'd taken two bullets. He grabbed my ankle and said: when I get back, I'll give you the world.

But when he came back, it was my sister Sabrina on his arm.

After that she was the woman who ran the Caster house, and I was the crazy one they locked away upstate.

Three years later, at the engagement party, Sabrina opened up her own wrist and screamed that I did it.

I tried to explain.

But the man I'd given half my life to save wouldn't even look at me. He just flicked his hand.

"Her hands don't know their place. Take them. And I don't want that face in front of me."

He never once looked up.

So why is it that the next time he sees me, the moment he really looks at my face, he goes down on his knees?

Did you slaughter your roommates?" the detective sneered. "No!" I screamed. The polygraph technician stared at the flawless readouts confirming I told the absolute truth. I was innocent. But if a human didn't tear those girls apart in our locked dorm... then what exactly is hunting me now?

That was supposed to be one of the most anticipated days of my life—the wedding of my best friend, Sarah.
But when I put on my bridesmaid dress, she called me a bitch.
"Get out." Sarah looked at me like I was trash.
"I don't want to see you at my wedding."
I stood frozen in place, staring down at the broken Cartier bracelet she had given me, now lying scattered on the floor.

The winter I was eight, I found my own face in a trash can.
It was on a missing-child flyer. The girl on it had been gone five years. She had a birthmark on the back of her neck.
So did I.
There was a reward. A number with a long row of zeros. I didn't want it.
I was cold. I hadn't eaten since yesterday.
I just wanted a mom.
So that night, with a stranger's coins, I called the number at the bottom.
A woman answered on the first ring and screamed a name at me like it was mine.
She got to say it three times.
Then a hand came out of the dark behind me and hung up the phone for me.

I'm an ancient vampire prince who's been playing human boyfriend to a demon hunter.
Big mistake.
She's completely unhinged—GPS tracking, 24/7 surveillance, the works.
When she threatens to dump me unless I surrender all my secrets, I do the unthinkable:
I actually say yes.
Too bad she doesn't know her "helpless" boyfriend has been the one keeping her alive all this time.

In my past life, I stood on the execution platform, watching the entire city—brainwashed by the Saintess—smile as they willingly degenerated into ghouls.

When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to exactly one month ago.

I smashed the knight's sword that symbolized my honor. Dragging a high-tier ghoul into my basement, I slashed my left wrist open with a heavy blade.

Stripping away all the Holy Light protecting my body, I brutally shoved my bleeding wrist straight into the ghoul's gaping maw.

My bones let out muffled, explosive cracking sounds as they were eroded by the tyrannical ghoul virus. I crushed the reinforced steel bedframe out of shape with my bare hands.

"Daddy... so cold... and it hurts..." When my precious daughter Mia whispered these words in her weak voice, my heart felt like it was being torn apart.
The life-saving medicine was just ten meters away, but that damned anti-magic barrier had become an insurmountable chasm between life and death.
What made me even more furious was that the vampire guarding the gate not only extorted my life savings, but also demanded I kneel like a dog and lick his boots before he would open the door.
He didn't know that if the door stayed closed, it wouldn't just be my daughter who died—his son and mother would perish too!

"You're terrible in bed! The stamina of a goldfish! I want someone else!"
"Oh yeah? Who exactly?"
"Someone who can actually keep up!"
My husband's jaw ticked. That night, he proved exactly how much stamina he had—and I could barely walk the next morning.

Three years of marriage. Three years of negative pregnancy tests. Desperate times called for desperate measures—so I pushed every button he had, hoping to finally conceive.
One reckless night of passion later, I thought we'd finally made progress.
Instead, divorce papers slammed into my hands.
"Anyone could mother my child," he said coldly. "Literally anyone but you."

Six years later, I returned from overseas—CEO of a medical empire, renowned archaeologist, certified gemologist, and secret heiress to the nation's wealthiest family. Oh, and I brought along my adorable twin geniuses.
My multiple identities? Mind. Blown.
Meanwhile, my ex-husband's dirty secret hit tabloids: He's firing blanks. Always has been.

Just as I'm about to marry my charming new fiancé (who actually appreciates me), my ex corners me in a hotel suite. His eyes bloodshot, voice cracking:
"You're the only one—the ONLY one—who can be my children's mother. My love. Please..."
Too bad, buddy. You snooze, you lose.
💎 Revenge. Rebirth. Twin Chaos. And one groveling ex who's about to learn what he lost. 💎

I was once a world-renowned designer, but I retired for love, dedicating six years to my husband and daughter. But on our anniversary, he spent millions on my final masterpiece, only to place it around another woman's neck on live TV. My own daughter then ran on stage, sweetly calling her 'mommy.' My six years of devotion became a joke. When I asked for a divorce, he sneered, thinking I was just a housewife who couldn't survive three days without him. He has no idea that the legendary designer 'Octavia' he's desperately trying to meet is the wife he cast aside. Now, I’m back. And I'm ready to take back everything that is mine.

At the press conference, my husband Thaddeus Getty publicly declared his love for his first love in front of all the media.
In an instant, the whole world knew I was a wife who wasn't cherished by her husband.
Heartbroken but not defeated, despite my deep love, I chose to leave.
Months later, Thaddeus looked at my belly and snarled through gritted teeth: "Tell me, whose bastard child is this?"

"And.. you are?"
"Camila..."
Lawson frowned. "What..."
Camila’s gaze hardened. "I didn't walk back from the dead for a friendly chat or to rehash how thoroughly you all ruined what was left of my life..." She held her chin up as if trying to keep herself from breaking her fragile composure. "I came to settle the score."


Camila thought she had lost everything when she received the shock of her life. But when she was forced to fake her own death and assume a new identity, she realized she had been accidentally given a second chance.
This new life came with a new discovery that Camila, the once shameful and disgraceful wife of the wealthy and powerful Miller family, turned out to be a force to be reckoned with, a rival worthy of respect, and a woman not to be underestimated.
Not even her husband stood a chance.

Rowan is seven years younger than Max; the first warning to stay away. But staying away isn’t an option. Forced to live under the same roof as his mulish stepbrother, Rowan discovers the one person he should fear most is the one he can’t stop thinking about.

Max thrives on chaos, and Rowan quickly becomes his favorite target. But Rowan has a secret: he’s falling for the boy who bullies and seems determined to destroy him. Max makes it clear he hates Rowan, and even clearer that he doesn’t like boys.

In a house built on resentment, the line between hate and need starts to blur. And once Max starts watching, Rowan might never be able to hide, and Max might never be able to look away.

Alexander's lips crash against hers, urgent and consuming, his hard dick pressing against her throbbing pussy, igniting a primal ache. His hands seize her breasts, fingers teasing, before his teeth graze her nipple, biting softly, sending shivers as her body arches, slick with need.
Olivia Harper wakes with no memories. Everyone tells her she's madly in love with her fiancé, but her dreams suggest otherwise. Until the ruthless CEO Alexander Blake confines her, his voice a husky purr. "Forgotten? Perfect."
Memories surged: he had pinned her in a car, her sobs were raw. Why did his possessive eyes burn with grievance?

In every story, the villain died. Jessica had always thought that was fair, until she woke up as one.
Neria Virethorn was a disposable villainess, written to suffer and disappear. After breaking her engagement to a duke, her father treated her like a ruined object, making pain the primary language of their home. But her father wasn’t the greatest threat.
Sebastian Blackmoor, the crown prince and the story’s primary villain, was a man who viewed mercy as a weakness. Neria’s only goal was to stay small enough to survive him.
She failed…
After stumbling into a sealed royal vault, Neria accidentally bonded with a dragon egg that belonged to him.
The bond was permanent. Sebastian didn't see fate; he saw theft. He began hunting her with the cold patience of an executioner. Realising running was futile, Neria chose to interfere with the plot itself. She revealed Alistair…the rightful heir, the story’s "hero," and the man destined to kill Sebastian.
It should have been her escape. Instead, it trapped her between two blood-soaked futures: one where Sebastian destroyed her for her "theft," and another where Alistair used her as his reason in his war for the throne.
Neria was never meant to matter. But with a dragon bound to her soul and the narrative fracturing around her, she realised the truth.
This villainess was no longer a side character; she was the mistake the entire plot had to answer for. If she was destined to be the villain, Neria would become the kind that ruined everything.
“Fine! I’ll be your villain in this story!”

They say the truth will set you free, but what if the truth revealed a darker side of your life you would have never believed existed?

Just when Vanika Merrick was finally getting comfortable with her boring life laden with strange rules, Derion Silber barged into it and turned everything upside down.

From making her break every single rule, to unraveling the mysteries surrounding her life, Derion didn't know he was digging his own grave.

When she eventually remembered who she truly was, he found himself positioned as the target she had vowed to eliminate for the second time.

His military medals from three hundred years ago are the last mark of his human identity; now hidden in a junkyard, he is forced to tear off the disguise of the progenitor of the night due to a forced marriage. With powerful figures pressing in, vampires besieging him, and the Holy See approaching, he, in his mortal body, protects the orphan of his benefactor and faces the destined battle.

I thought I was the happiest woman in the world... until I clicked on that video.

The moment the screen lit up, my entire world came crashing down.

The woman on the bed was Calista - that girl who grew up with us since we were kids. And that hand caressing her skin was wearing the wedding ring I had personally put on Matteo's finger.

"I've missed you so much..."
"You drive me crazy, baby..."

Those sweet words I knew so well completely destroyed me.

Everyone said we were the perfect couple, but who knew this marriage was built on nothing but lies?

Since he's so good at acting, I guess it's time I gave him a show of my own. I'm going to make sure everyone sees what this "perfect husband" really is...

I thought I was the perfect wife and mother, until I heard my husband outside his office, laughing, calling me a "prison warden" and planning to use our daughter as cover while he ran off to Tuscany with his grad student.

Everything fell apart. Then my daughter, in front of everyone: "That's just our annoying nanny."

I tried to hold on to what was left of our family, but my daughter shoved me down the stairs. I lost the baby, and my husband just checked his watch while I bled out on the floor.

They locked me in and left for Italy.

Alone in the hospital, they told me I'd lost the baby and had "memory damage."

Now they're back, expecting the same obedient wife.

She's gone.

And I'm done loving 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."

For eighteen months, I loved Asher in secret, betting all my pride and heart on our hidden affair. He took my tenderness while prioritizing his rich fiancée, mocking my love and sacrificing my future for his family’s marriage deal. Shamed online, shunned at school and tormented, I made no fuss. I repaid every dollar he gave me, cut all ties, transferred schools and rebuilt myself. He broke off his engagement, lost his pride and begged me to come back—yet all I offered was a final goodbye.

I'm Jennifer, a stay-at-home mom. I gave up my art career eight years ago to take care of my family. My husband Julian and my son Garry, they're my whole world.

But lately, I've noticed them getting closer to Mia, Julian's secretary. Little things. Garry asking where "Miss Mia" is. Julian mentioning her at dinner. I told myself it was nothing. I kept quiet. I put up with it.

Until last week, when Garry broke his arm playing hockey. The school called Mia, not me. She was listed as his emergency contact.

That's when I knew I was done.

The day my sister and I came back to life, we made one call: swap fiancés.

Last time, Dad burned every favor he had to lock down two marriage deals for the family. One with a mafia family that runs the West Coast. The other with a corporate CEO.

My sister married the mafia leader. She was too gentle, too kind for a world that ran on blood and backstabbing. The man had a childhood friend who played soft and helpless but was vicious as hell underneath. That woman tormented my sister for decades before finally arranging an "accident" that killed her.

And me? I got the polished CEO.

Sounds good, right? Except we tortured each other from day one. He was all rules and manners, always talking like he was giving a speech. Me? I blow up fast and if I can throw a punch, I will. Every day was the same standoff. He'd pull back, I'd push forward, and nobody gave an inch.

We spent our whole lives being polite and miserable.

Then one day, my sister and I woke up on the afternoon they announced the engagements.

My parents ruined my wedding six times.

Every single time, right at the moment the ring was about to slip onto my finger—the first time, Mom knocked over the champagne tower. The second time, Dad drove his pickup truck straight through the floral arch... Either the groom wasn't good enough, or the wedding was too cheap. Each time was more batshit crazy than the last. The sixth time, Mom even held a knife to her own throat, threatening me not to put on the ring.

It made no sense to me—why push me to get married while doing everything to stop me from wearing that ring?

So for the seventh wedding, I chose a small chapel in a remote mountain area, went completely off-grid, dead certain they'd never track me down.

Just as Ethan was about to slide the ring onto my finger—

The chapel doors burst open.

Two figures stumbled in, gasping for air, faces streaked with tears.

My parents.

My husband Spencer quit his job to manage a rising model's career. In six months, she dropped the weight, blew up online, and turned into a supermodel — magazine covers, major runways, deal after deal.

Meanwhile, I watch myself expand by the day. Bloated. Double chin forming. Skin getting worse.

The whole world calls me greedy, lazy, out of control. Even my parents call to tell me to watch what I eat. And there's nothing I can say to make anyone understand.

Then one night, I catch them on the balcony, voices low, thinking no one can hear: "Forget about that fat cow. Once she drops dead, the house and the insurance are all ours."

That's when it finally makes sense.

Camille has a system tied to her. And it's tied to me.

Every pound I gain, she loses one.

I'm the fuel. The stepping stone. The inheritance they're waiting to collect.

She gets thin while I get fat?

So as long as I keep eating, she keeps losing weight?

Good.

I go ahead and spend a hundred grand booking a reclusive private chef for a full month. No limits on ingredients, price doesn't matter. The more extravagant, the better.

I'm going to eat whatever I want and actually enjoy my life.

Let's see how long she stays thin while I'm out here actually living my life.

Ryan Aldridge had one rule: he showed up for whoever needed him most.

The problem was, it was never me.

Throat swelling shut in the ER? He was unclogging Sloane Harrington's drain. Anniversary dinner? He left between courses because Sloane was "spiraling."

I forgave it every time. I was the cool girl. The understanding fiancée.

Then my studio caught fire, and a beam came down on my chest.

I lay there—bleeding, pinned, choking on smoke—and watched Ryan vault over me to carry out a woman with a sprained ankle.

"Jocelyn, come on. You can handle this. Look at her—she's shaking."

Something in me went still. Not broken. Finished.

I twisted off the ring with blood-slick fingers and let it disappear into the ash.

Then I disappeared too.

Three months after my miscarriage, at the celebration dinner he hosts for my "recovery," he tells his partners in French, "She's just a trophy wife. Doesn't understand basic business."

"What about that new assistant? The twenty-two-year-old?"

"So much smarter," he laughs. "And in bed? Way more exciting."

They think I don't understand. To everyone here, I'm just the stay-at-home wife who gave up her VP position at an investment bank to play house.

They don't know I minored in French. I spent a full year studying abroad at the Sorbonne.

As I lay in the operating room, bleeding out from the miscarriage, he was already seeing her.

Je comprends tout. I understand everything.

Over the champagne and candlelight, I smile at him.

He has no idea this is the last time he'll ever see it.

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.

"This woman," Lucien said slowly, deliberately, "will not be killed."
"I will not dispose of her," He continued, as if he were commenting on the weather. "She is not prey. She is not a tribute. She is... mine."
Anana's heart slammed against her ribs. Mine? She opened her mouth to protest, to question what he meant, to remind him she hadn't agreed to anything but his voice was already rolling over the room like thunder. "If any of you question that," Lucien said, "you're welcome to challenge me." No one moved. No one even breathed. Because to challenge Lucien... was to die.
When Anana discovered her mate's betrayal and his cowardice to protect their people, she realized love could no longer save her. Each night his bond with another woman carved new scars into her flesh, leaving her broken, abandoned, and dying.
Then came Lucien Kael—the Alpha God of War. Ruthless. Feared. Bound by an oath made by her pack's former Alpha, he came to claim a she-wolf as tribute.
Faced with the choice between sacrificing an innocent girl or herself, Anana stepped forward.
"It's better to die saving my pack than to bleed for my husband's weakness."
But what awaited her in the Crimson Blood Pack was not chains, but a cage of fire and shadow—and the cold, unyielding Alpha who saw through her pain.
Now, in the God of War's den, Anana must decide: remain the broken Luna she once was... or rise into the woman fate has been pushing her to become.

Twenty-four-year-old Susan Stone, a quiet Grade 2 teacher, never imagined her life would collide with power, passion, and betrayal. But everything changes when she meets Joseph Hudson—the soon-to-be governor of California. Towering at 6'7" with the chiseled body of an athlete, piercing blue eyes, and a beard as commanding as a Viking warrior's, Joseph exudes confidence and authority wherever he goes. Their paths cross when he returns to his old elementary school with plans to give back—and Susan is caught in his magnetic pull.

What begins as a chance encounter soon ignites into a whirlwind romance that’s raw, intense, and irresistible. In a matter of weeks, Susan finds herself swept into a fairytale marriage with one of the most powerful men in the state. But beneath the glamorous facade of Governor Joseph Hudson lies a harrowing secret—one that shatters everything Susan believed about love.

Just one week after their honeymoon, Susan uncovers the unthinkable: Joseph is entangled in a twisted, passionate affair with his own stepmother, Maggie Anderson. And the most terrifying part? Neither of them shows an ounce of guilt. Instead, they issue a chilling threat—if Susan dares expose the truth, her life will be the price.

Pregnant and betrayed, Susan is left broken and terrified. With the weight of a deadly secret pressing on her and a child growing within her, how will she fight back against the most powerful man in California? Can she survive the storm—or will the truth destroy her before she has a chance to escape?

Christian Knight was about to marry Andrea Donovan and start a fresh life. Andrea was a gorgeous and respectable woman. She liked Christian since her college days but couldn’t muster the courage to express her feelings to him, as she knew that Christian was interested in Diana Roger, the mute girl.

Years later, destiny played cupid for Andrea and Christian, and their families fixed their marriage. Andrea was over the moon, and it was hard for her to believe that Christian was finally going to be her forever.


To escape the haunting nightmares and hallucinations about one particular woman, whom he thinks he has never met before, Christian agreed to marry Andrea as she was beautiful, smart, and a generous woman, completely compatible with his status, but little did he know that meeting with a stranger at the Coffee House will change everything for him.


What will happen when destiny plays its cards?

Would Christian be able to accept that he had been married before?

Will he choose his present over his past or follow his way back to his former wife?

Would Mishka be willing to give another chance to Christian or she has already moved on in her life?

Will their love pass the test of time and commitment to come out victorious or did their love story end long ago?

Follow the other half of Christian and Mishka’s tale to witness if second chances really exist or if healing a broken heart is beyond repair.

This book is a sequel to My Indian Wife and the book 1 is needed to be read before continuing this book

With a 28.6-second prediction ability, Kane Voss hides as an ordinary shop owner. His cold lawyer wife holds a buried family crime secret. Assets wars, deadly ambushes, and underworld battles break out. He unfolds his god of war aura, crushes all enemies, and tears down every hidden dark truth.

Five years ago, my ex-boyfriend Jason said coldly when he abandoned me: "Charlotte, you're not worthy of my dreams."

Five years later, when I saw him again, he had become Floreton's tech mogul while I remained a simple sculptor. His new fiancée—a wealthy heiress—sneered at my modest attire: "Someone like you can actually afford to book a top-tier wedding venue?"

She stole my venue, crushed my fingers, and forced me to kneel and apologize: "Say you don't belong here!"

Jason stood by watching coldly, just as indifferent as he was on that rainy night five years ago.

I desperately thought this was my fate, until that familiar, furious voice echoed throughout the entire venue:

"What bastard touched my woman!"

My Bradley had arrived.

This time, I would be the one laughing last.

“Please, Ash,” she begged, and it undid me. I sucked her clit slowly, while two fingers slid deep inside her. She clenched hard, already close. Bram groaned from above, one hand tangled in her hair as she took his cock into her mouth like she was born to do it.


THIS IS THE SECOND BOOK IN A SERIES. PLEASE FIND HUNTED HYBRID FIRST!

They saved her. But Raelith’s mark still lingers.

After being rescued from the Blood Goddess’s cage, Elowen is home. Surrounded by her mates and the growing kingdom they are building, she should feel safe. Instead, her nights are filled with dreams of a broken girl in chains. A stranger she doesn’t know, but whose pain feels carved into her very soul.

Raelith’s corruption still stains Elowen's spirit, whispering in the dark corners of her mind. And with every passing day, Raelith claws closer to unleashing an ancient chaos entity that could destroy not just Elowen, but every realm.

Together with her five fated mates, the dryads who have pledged their loyalty, and the gods themselves, Elowen must learn to fight back, not only against Raelith, but against the shadows gnawing inside her. Bonds must be strengthened. Magic must be mastered. Trust must be earned. Because this war will not be won by power alone.

It will take healing. Connection. Found family. And the kind of love that refuses to break.

As kingdoms collide and battle lines are drawn, Elowen will be forced to rise higher than ever before. She is the Moon Goddess’s chosen, the vessel of prophecy, the heart that can unite every fractured species. But if she falters, if Raelith succeeds, the world will fall to rot, ruin, and eternal blood.

The Goddess chose her.

Now the world needs her more than ever.

Trixie Baker has spent her whole life being overlooked. So when the school's most celebrated hockey player sent her a personal note, she believed it was genuine. She showed up. She held the sign. And she watched him kiss her stepsister instead.
That was just the beginning of the worst day of her life.
Now she's been selected for a modeling campaign alongside the boy who humiliated her, watched by a man who sees everything she tries to hide, and her stepmother is willing to burn her to the ground to keep her in her place.
Trixie has never been anyone's first choice.
She's about to find out what happens when she finally becomes her own.

I looked at the naked stranger lying asleep beside me. Lightning flickered, illuminating his muscular body only in glimpses. He was covered in mud and blood, and though in human form now, he still looked wild and monstrous. I’d never found myself lying beside any naked man before in my life. He pulled at my clothes, and I let him rip them off. The thunder came closer, booming right overhead. We kissed with frantic passion and grasped at every inch of each other. One of the only normal human girls at the Werewolf Noble Academy, I was at the bottom of the social order from the start. But even worse than that, just about everyone at school picked on me for being fat. One day I slept with a stranger in an accident. He is the second prince of the werewolf, and wants to marry me!

Are you single? Or married?

I’m single ma’am

Why would a beautiful girl like you be single?

Well, I’d say it’s because I have to work hard to fend for myself so I could meet up with my bills. So I really wouldn’t have time for relationships.

Well, I want to offer you a contract.

What contract ma’am?

I want you to get married to my son and produce heirs for my family, he’s the only child I have and I wouldn’t want our name to be dragged to the mud because of his refusal to get married.

I’m a dying woman, I’m battling with cancer and I have just one year left for me and I wouldn’t want him to be unmarried while I leave this earth.

I’m ready to pay you five hundred thousand dollars monthly (500,000 USD) for staying with my son and a million dollars when you produce an heir.

What?

Krystal Hunter died with a broken heart, a knife in her back, and one regret—she finally won the damn lottery right before she died. Ten million dollars, untouched, deposited in the bank… wasted.
Or so she thought.
Because when Krystal wakes up in a hospital bed—very much not dead—the world has gone to economic hell. The global economy has collapsed, the dollar has depreciated into dust... and her forgotten bank account?
Now worth one hundred billion.
With the world burning and billionaires falling like flies, Krystal is no longer the girl they betrayed. She’s richer than empires, hungrier than ever, and back to collect what she’s owed—with interest.
Ex-lovers, fake friends, and bloodthirsty siblings beware:
She died once. She’s not dying quietly again.

A deliciously savage romantic revenge comedy about wealth, power, payback, and kissing someone hot while the economy collapses.