155 Book(s) Related to junpei

There are no unmated males in our pack.
Every she-wolf in Hollowfen is promised to someone when she turns eighteen. We just don't get to know who until we walk into the Choosing Hall.
Girls go in wearing white. They come out flushed, shaking, barely able to stand. Some laugh. Some cry. None of them talk about what happens inside.
My sister Thessaly turned eighteen this spring. Gran told her she couldn't attend the Choosing.
She went anyway. She came back on shaking legs, with blood between her thighs and a smile she couldn't wipe off her face.

Someone posted a positive pregnancy stick next to my student ID on the school's anonymous forum.
By first period, eight hundred people thought I was the campus slut. By lunch, the lacrosse captain stood up in the cafeteria and told everyone he was the father. By Friday, my full-ride scholarship was frozen and the dean told me to "keep a low profile."
I've never even kissed anyone.
Margaux Aldridge — Ashford Academy's golden girl, my so-called friend — showed up with tissues and a shoulder to cry on. She even talked to her daddy on the board about getting me a "quiet transfer" so I wouldn't have to suffer a public hearing.
So generous. So kind.
She even handed me a withdrawal form. My name already filled in. Just needed a signature.
She really thought I'd sign it.

I took a bullet for my husband five years ago. He married me in the ICU before the anesthesia wore off.
Raffaele Santoro—heir to the most powerful mafia family in Italy—told me I was his everything. He bought a castle and named it after me. He reserved a grave beside his parents so we'd lie together for eternity.
While I was pumping my body full of hormones for our fourth round of IVF, he was across town watching his childhood sweetheart give birth to twin boys.
He named one of them Dante—the name I'd chosen for our future son.
The night I found out, I was seven weeks pregnant with his child.
I didn't tell him.
I called my best friend and said: I need everyone to think I'm dead.

The ultrasound photo caught fire slowly, curling at the edges before the flame swallowed it whole.
I watched it burn in front of my mother's grave.
Eight weeks. That was how far along I had been.
Three days ago, on the anniversary of her death, I came here to talk to her. To tell her she was going to be a grandmother.
Instead, I found my husband fucking his ex-girlfriend against the oak tree twenty feet from her headstone.
I lost the baby that night.

My husband never wore condoms with me. Said they ruined it for him. So I swallowed birth control pills for four years until they made me sick.
Then I found a half-empty box in his glove compartment. And a thong under his backseat.
That wasn't even the worst part.
The necklace I'd made from my mother's ashes—the one I'd been grieving over losing for a year—was dangling between his twenty-three-year-old trainee's tits. He stole it from our bedroom and gave it to her.
She caught me staring. She smiled.
When I confronted him, he slapped me. Then drove off with her crying in his passenger seat.
Her friends came to my hospital with a livestream, demanding I apologize for "bullying" her.
I led them straight to the parking garage.
They found her on a stretcher. Legs wrapped around my husband. No condom.
The whole internet watched.

My mate, Rhys, brought his dead brother's pregnant widow into our house.
He swore up and down I'd never have to lift a finger for her.
The next morning he stood by the door with a packed bag and a grin.
"Babe. Big news. The pack called me up. Border post out east, two years. I ship out tonight."
He looked at me like he was waiting for me to promise I'd take good care of his brother's widow.
So I pulled my own bag out of the closet, right there in front of him and the woman in the back room.
"Funny. The alliance called me up too. Medic rotation. Two years."
"We can leave together. Lock up on the way out. Colette can rest easy with the whole house to herself."

After the wedding, my husband moved his dead fiancée's mother into our guest room. The whole town called it the kindest thing they'd ever seen.
Every morning, Dione made me a green smoothie. Her grandmother's recipe, she said. Good for the nerves.
I never drank a single one. I poured them all into the chicken feed.
In my last life, I drank them. One a day, for thirty days.
Then I started losing time. I would blink at breakfast and come back at dinner. I found notes in my own handwriting that I never wrote.
I begged Julian to take me to a doctor. He held my shoulders and smiled. "You're just tired, baby. Drink your smoothie."
On the thirtieth night, I fell asleep in my own bed, in my own body.
I never woke up. Someone else did.
This time, every glass went to Nugget, the smallest of my backyard hens.
And one night, a hen crowed in my backyard.
Hens don't crow. And we don't have a rooster.

In my last life, my boyfriend's childhood best friend handed out jars of homemade sunscreen on the boat ride to the island. I'm a marine bio major — one sniff and I knew the mix had something in it that could drive the island's feral hogs into a frenzy. I told everyone to throw them out.
They did. But Brynn didn't look at the group. She looked at me. Eyes red, jaw tight. "You just can't stand seeing people appreciate anything I do, can you?" She turned and ran into the woods alone.
We searched for her all night in a storm. By morning we found her body at the bottom of the cliffs.
A week later, at her memorial bonfire on the beach, every person who'd gotten hurt during the search turned on me. My boyfriend ripped off his bandage and showed his stitches. "If you hadn't humiliated Brynn in front of everyone, she'd still be alive."
Someone said I should burn for what I did to her.
Then hands on my back. The fire. I burned alive on the sand while seventeen people watched.
I opened my eyes. Salt air. Engine noise. I was back on the boat — the morning of the trip.

My brother Soren is a figure skating prodigy. Every dollar in our house, every hour, every scrap of attention — all his.
Me? I'm the kid who doesn't need to be seen.
The night before Nationals, I told my mom my stomach hurt so bad I could barely stand. She said I was making trouble. Dad told me to take a painkiller and tough it out. Then they loaded up the car and drove two hundred miles to watch Soren skate.
They didn't come home until Sunday night. By then, I'd been dead for over a day.
I called her. Again and again. She had her phone on airplane mode.
Now I'm a ghost, drifting behind their car on the highway home. They're laughing, complaining I didn't even text Soren a congratulations.
I wonder what their faces will look like when they walk through that door.

My husband told me our daughter was brain-dead. He put a pen in my hand and told me to sign the organ donation form. He said it was the merciful thing to do.
I signed.
Then I watched her heart get cut out and transplanted into another child — his mistress's son.
He'd been planning it for months. The fake diagnosis, the doctor who happened to be his college girlfriend, the night his mother lured me away from the hospital so they could drug my little girl.
When I found out the truth, he killed me for it.
But somehow, I woke up back at that desk. Same pen. Same form. Same lying face waiting for my signature.
This time, I'm not signing. This time, they pay.

My daughter died on her fifth birthday.
Her first real wish—the first one she was old enough to make herself—was to go to the beach with Daddy.
Gideon promised he would take her.
She waited for him all day. She was still asking for him when she took her last breath.
He never came.
I brought her ashes to the beach she'd always dreamed of. Let her finally see the ocean.
That's when I heard it—a woman's moan, low and breathy, coming from behind the rocks.
Then his voice. Then his name on her lips.
"Between me and Lily, who do you love more?"
"You. Obviously."
He was fucking his mistress on our daughter's dream beach—while I stood there holding her ashes.
When I finally confronted them, I didn't get an apology. I got a slap across the face.
And when his mistress caught my eye and smiled, I realized something.
She knew exactly when my daughter would die.

I was a scholarship student with thirty extra pounds. Del Ashford had two hundred thousand followers and her family's supplement brand on every wall of the athletic center. First week of school, she decided we were going to be best friends.
She said she wanted to help me get in shape. What that actually looked like: I carried her product shipments up three flights of stairs, drafted her emails, and picked up her lunch from the place across campus that didn't deliver.
My roommates started calling me her errand girl behind my back. I let them.
She also introduced me to Beckett Hale. After that, things went the way they went.
She knocked my protein shake over and said I'd burned her. She planted her limited-edition earphones in my bag and told everyone I'd stolen them. The school opened a conduct review. My roommates stopped talking to me.

Beckett said I was the kind of girl who got a little attention and started thinking she deserved more of it.
I couldn't prove any of it. By spring, I was gone.
Some people just aren't built for this, Wren. You know that, right?
Del hadn't even been looking at me when she said it.
Then I opened my eyes and I was back at the party. The night she introduced me to Beckett.

The idea came from Cora.
She ran into the kitchen while I was making dinner, wrapped both arms around my waist, and looked up at me.
"Mommy, can we go to Grandma Ellen's? Just us two? Just us girls?"
"Why?" I asked.
She thought about it, very serious. "Because every time I wake up and you're not home, I miss you. Even when Daddy's there, it's different." A pause. "Grandma Ellen probably misses you just as much as I do."
Reid was leaning in the doorway. He smiled at me—that easy, certain smile—and said, "She's not wrong. You've been running on empty for months. Take the trip. I've got everything covered."
The flights were booked before I finished washing the dishes.
I should have noticed how fast that was.
The call I made the night before we flew home changed everything. I thought I'd hung up.
I hadn't.

In my last life, I fell for every word out of Ryan's mouth.
To save his shot at attending physician, I volunteered to take the fall for his medical malpractice case.
My license was revoked. I went from being a surgeon to being a housewife trapped in his family's home, wasting ten years of my life chained to a kitchen stove.
I thought my sacrifice would earn me his gratitude for the rest of our lives.
Turns out, he'd been sleeping with that doe-eyed little nurse, Lily, for God knows how long.
When years of exhaustion finally caught up with me and my heart gave out, I collapsed on the freezing basement floor.
My husband Ryan was upstairs, arms wrapped around Lily, sleeping in the master bedroom we'd bought with my dowry.
"That bitch is finally kicking the bucket. Once she croaks, this house is ours."

I spent eight months making hit content for Halo Digital. My mentor Sienna Blake spent eight months putting her name on it.
I thought she was looking out for me. The big sister every new girl dreams of. Shielding me from tough meetings, "polishing" my scripts before they went to the CEO.
Then one morning, her beauty blender started talking.
It said her skin was a disaster. That she couldn't come up with a single idea on her own. That she'd been stealing my work and posting it under her name for months.
Her lipstick said worse—about the married investor buying her jewelry with company money, and the deal they'd made to bury my career for good.
Her setting spray said she couldn't even hide her own dark circles anymore.
They told me everything. And once I knew, there was no going back.
In this industry, your face is your career. Sienna was about to lose both.

My mate died in a border skirmish with an enemy pack.
The woman he loved, Wren, died with him. She came from the pack we'd hated for a hundred years.
They left me two sons who weren't mine by blood.
Eighteen years passed.
I raised those boys like they were my own. I even got them into the Alpha King's Guard — the kind only a handful of pups make in a whole generation.
But the day they were chosen, my mate, dead all these years, walked back through the door with his forbidden lover.
She smiled at me like we were old friends.
"Thank you for turning our sons into the pride of the Guard."
"We couldn't have stayed hidden all these years without you."
Then my mate said he wanted the bond broken. He wanted her as his mate instead. He wanted his sons back.
I didn't cry. I didn't argue.
I just smiled.
"Okay."

Last time, I was the first student to walk out of the SAT.
A news crew was waiting by the doors. The camera found my face, and I made one bored little joke — the test was too easy, I'd rather be surfing in Miami. By midnight the clip had two million likes, and my whole life had a price tag on it.
An agency came knocking within the week. My parents signed the contract before I understood what I was signing away, and they pulled me out of school. I stopped being a person and became their product.
And Mia — my best friend, the girl who cried at my locker and braided my hair before exams — Mia copied my notes, rode them into Yale, and smiled into the cameras while she told the internet I'd slept my way through high school.
By the time the agency had wrung me dry, I had nothing left. No school. No name worth defending. Not one person who believed a word out of my mouth.
The night it ended, Mia came up to the roof to "talk." She said she would never forgive me for being the lucky one. Then she put both hands flat on my chest and pushed.
The last thing I saw was her face, smiling down at me over the edge.
Then I blinked — and I was back in the testing room.

Five years, I bled for Dario. Took a bullet for him. Cleaned up his dirtiest books. Drank myself into the ER just to keep his bosses sweet.
Then he slid divorce papers across the table and told me to sign. His mistress was pregnant; the family needed a "proper" heir, and I was in the way. So I signed—and let him strip me of everything I'd built.
Three hours later, a rival crew ran his car off the bridge. He survived. But he will never father a child again.
Now he's pouring a fortune he can't spare into his mistress's baby, showing off his "heir" to every boss in New York. He thinks his bloodline is finally safe.
He has no idea whose child he's really raising. And I'm the only one who does.

For two years I was Easton's secret girlfriend. I paid his tuition. I took a beating from the guys who came for him. I gave up my MIT interview so he could chase what he wanted.
Then I heard him behind a half-open door, kissing my best friend.
"Last life she clung to me like a lunatic. This life I'm not making that mistake again."
Last life. They'd both been reborn—come back with every memory of a life I don't even remember living—and somewhere in it, they'd decided I was the desperate girl who ruined everything.
Fine.
I went back to my desk, pulled the MIT acceptance I'd been about to turn down, and signed it.
Easton, I'll let you have her.
He spent two lifetimes sure he was the smart one. He's about to find out which of us was holding back.

My boss and I had one night. A mistake—or so I told myself, right up until I found a file in his office with my photo labeled "Potential Breeder," tucked inside a folder marked Pack Hierarchy. Same night the pregnancy test came back positive.
His eyes were glowing gold when he walked in.
I ran before sunrise. New name, new city, a life built from nothing.
Five years later, my son stops aggressive dogs in midair with his bare hands. He wakes up at 3 AM telling me someone is coming before the car even turns onto our street. His eyes flash gold when he's angry, and his voice makes grown men step back without knowing why.
The most powerful werewolf in the western territories has been looking for us for five years.
He just found our street.

My neighbor Beck Morrow was the best high school point guard this state had seen in years.
The night before the state championship—three college scouts in the stands—he decided to stay home with his girlfriend instead. She wasn't feeling well.
I called his coach.
He played. He got the scholarship. He built a company worth eight figures before he turned thirty, and I spent five years writing every algorithm that company ran on.
He repaid me by throwing a ball at my head during a training session. Then his lawyers sent a letter explaining that I had no legal claim to any intellectual property developed under my employment contract, effective immediately, and that my position was being terminated.
Then I woke up. It was the first week of senior year again.

My mother only ever made the bedtime tea for me. Never my brother—just me, every night, because I was the gifted one, the daughter she "worried about."
The night before the scholarship exam, my one shot at college, she brought me a cup like always.
The next day I collapsed in the middle of the test. I'd never been sick a day in my life. I failed.
Don't worry, she said. We'll try again next year. And every single night, she kept making me that tea.
Second year, I went down again. Third year, again. Three times I sat that exam, three times my body quit at the worst possible moment.
The whole town started calling me the girl who faints. The genius who cracks. The family joke.
And my brother—who copied my homework and never read a book to the end—somehow walked away with everything.
I never understood why my body fell apart every time it mattered.
This was my last chance. For days I barely ate, terrified it would happen again.
Then, the night before the exam, my mother walked in with a cup of tea…

On our wedding night, my husband wanted to play a game.
Trade secrets. The kind that could destroy you if they ever got out.
He went first.
"I hurt a girl once. At a ski lodge. She shouldn't have been in that room. But she was."
He said it like a parking ticket. Then he took a sip of whiskey and moved on.
My turn.
"I killed someone," I said. "Do you believe me?"
He laughed. He thought I was joking.
He really shouldn't have kissed me after that.

At last season's Grand Olfactory Gala, Vivienne Harrow presented my formula before I could reach the stage.
I confronted her. She asked where my proof was.
I had nothing. The formula had never left my head — no notes, no records, nothing. I didn't know how she'd gotten it.
I died not knowing.
Then I opened my eyes, and she was already reaching for me.
"Not this time."
I stepped back.

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

At four, they shattered both my legs. At six, they ruptured my left eardrum. At seven, they took my right eye—said I'd earn more sympathy begging blind.
After twelve years in hell, my billionaire parents finally found me.
The girl who stole my life grabbed my wrist, nails digging into my skin. "Dare take what's mine, and I'll break whatever's left of your legs."
I smiled, unclipping both prosthetics to show empty pant legs. "I don't have legs left."
She was terrified.

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

My two best friends killed me over a girl who'd been dead six months.
Lila Bishop never got a single offer. So she cried and clung until Cole and Wes were ready to throw away their full rides and follow her to nowhere. I tried to stop them — they called me jealous and cut me off. So I went over their heads. I called their moms. I fixed their signing papers myself, the night before the deadline.
Six months later Lila was gone, and they blamed me. They dragged me to the roof of our gym and threw me off.
Then I opened my eyes — three months back, the day it all started.
Last time, I broke myself trying to save them.
This time, I'd let them jump.

BLURB

Eli Morgan had spent years trying to survive Noah Carter.

Unfortunately, Noah Carter seemed determined to ruin his life.

As The College’s swim captain, campus heartthrob, and his older brother’s best friend, Noah had made teasing Eli his personal hobby, touching him too casually, acting possessive whenever Eli liked someone, and somehow inserting himself into every part of Eli’s life.

And somehow?

Nobody else thought it was weird.

Not even Ethan, Eli’s perfect older brother.

But when Eli finally starts dating someone seriously, Noah’s behavior changes from annoying to dangerous. The teasing becomes jealousy. The casual touches become possessive. And the tension between them becomes impossible to ignore.

He swore to ruin the daughter of the man who destroyed his family. He didn't expect her to taste like his biggest regret.

I keep telling myself I don’t belong to him.
That the way his gaze tracks my mouth means nothing, and the sudden, aching warmth in my heart when he enters a room is just leftover loneliness.

Nicholas didn't come into my life by accident. He entered my world like a slow burning wildfire, carrying a dark past and a grudge meant to destroy my family. To him, I’m just a target and a cruel reminder of the woman he lost three years ago, the ghost he couldn't save.

He should hate me. I should run from him.
But Nicholas doesn’t chase. He waits. He gives me just enough room to pretend I’m free, watching my composure fall apart piece by piece without lifting a single finger. That patience is far more dangerous than if he had backed me against the wall and taken what he wanted.

“You don’t have to stay,” he murmured, his breath brushing the shell of my ear, sending a shiver straight down my spine. “But we both know you will.”

I hated how right he was.

Now my skin craves the pressure of his hands. Every breath I take feels heavy with the threat of what happens if I break. I can’t pretend my body doesn't give in the second he steps close.

I call it a mistake… anything to pretend I still have a choice.

Because Nicholas never asked for my permission. He’s just letting me undo myself, perfectly content to claim what he already decided was his.

She thought she was escaping one cage. She walked straight into another.
Georgia Steele married a man she didn't love to save her family — traded her youth for a gilded prison in Pasadena and called it duty. Then Lord Carlisle Strathearn walked into her life and offered her everything she'd been denied: passion, freedom, the kind of love that made her forget her vows.
She left her husband for him. She left her family. She left everything.
It was only when the doors locked behind her that she realized Carlisle had been watching her long before that first night at the art gallery. That his desire wasn't for her — it was for her destruction. Her father's sins had cost him everything. And Georgia was going to pay the debt.
Now she's trapped beneath a Victorian manor in California, drugged, gaslit, and erased from the world — while Carlisle hosts dinner parties on the floor above her head.
She had two choices once. She has none now.
But the walls she's writing on are starting to whisper back.
Married for Money' Buried for Revenge is a dark psychological romance series about obsession, revenge, and what survives when everything else is taken away. For readers who like their villains brilliant, their heroines unbreakable, and their love stories soaked in shadows.

He's got callused hands, a slow smile, and a way with horses that makes her forget how to breathe.
Isobel didn't expect much from a trip to Wears Valley with her best friend and a troubled buckskin mare. She definitely didn't expect Ryder Callahan.
He looks like a cowboy through and through. Faded Wranglers, dusty boots, hazel eyes that see straight through you. But there's something underneath the easy drawl and the barn lot dirt that doesn't quite add up. A Rolex hidden under a shirtsleeve. A voice that carries the sharp edge of boardrooms alongside Tennessee grit.
He's keeping something buried deep, and she's getting too close to stop herself from wanting to dig.
Ryder came back to this valley to heal. Not just his body, but everything the rodeo and the life he left behind tore open. Training horses gives him quiet. Isobel gives him something he wasn't looking for.
But secrets don't stay buried forever. And when his two worlds collide, the only question left is whether she'll still want the man standing in the wreckage.
Sometimes the hardest eight seconds aren't in the arena.

Haunt Me Like You Mean It
When Mei Liang signed on as an assistant at Truth Finders of the Paranormal, she expected weird. She did not expect him.
Callum Reeves, known to everyone as Cal, is twenty-three, British, brutally brilliant, and completely impossible. He leads TFP like he owns the air in the room, and maybe he does. Mei has spent the better part of a year fetching his tea, surviving his icy stares, and pretending she does not care what he thinks of her.
She is not doing a great job of pretending.
When TFP is called to investigate a haunted theater on the outskirts of Hollow Crest, a remote village hugging the edges of New York's Chinatown, Mei thinks it is just another case. A ghost, a client, a mystery to solve. But the Miyuki Theater is hiding more than one secret, and so is Cal.
Between a furious heiress, a desperate playwright, a powder room that looks like a war zone, and a ghost that seems to have a very specific target in mind, Mei is already in over her head. Add in the strange dreams she cannot explain, a spirit that looks disturbingly familiar, and a team that runs more on chaos than cohesion, and this case is about to get very personal.
Some hauntings follow you home.
Some feelings do too.

"Tyler Wills broke my heart and now, he's back to pick up the pieces, but I built walls he can’t climb... or can he?"
Samantha Blake, a rising star in New York's design world, thought she left her broken past behind. But when a big lie messes up her life, she has to face Tyler Wills, the man she once loved and lost. As secrets come out and enemies show up, Samantha must deal with a mix of lies and desire. Will she find the strength to forgive and get her future back, or will the past ruin everything she cares about?

They sold me to pay a debt. To a monstrous mafia lord. So I walked into a club and gave my body to a stranger first. My choice. My terms.

That stranger was beautiful. Dangerous. He saw the fire in me and called it magnificent. For one night, he was my sanctuary.

Turns out, my sanctuary has a name: Matteo. And he’s not some random man. He’s the son of the monster I’m supposed to marry. He offers me his protection, his understanding, his searing touch in the shadows. I hate him. I want him. I’m falling for him. We start an affair while hiding from his father.

Here’s the kicker: there is no monster. There’s only him.

Matteo is the Don. The debt, the fear, the wedding, was all his game. He lied to cage me. He played a role to break me. He thought he could own me.

He thought wrong.

Now he’s learning the truth: you shouldn’t trap a woman who’s already been forged in fire. You shouldn’t lie to someone who can see the cracks in every painted surface. And you definitely shouldn’t fall in love with the queen you tried to make a pawn.
The marriage is real. The war is on. And this time, I’m writing the rules.

I was supposed to start college with a future already mapped out and a boyfriend I trusted at my side. I had plans, expectations, and a life that felt safe and familiar.Then I walked into his bedroom and found my boyfriend and my sister tangled together in his sheets, breathing lies and betrayal like it was nothing.I cried once. I screamed once. And then I made a decision.I was not going to fall apart. I was not going to disappear quietly. I was going to make sure neither of them ever forgot what they did to me.So I did the one thing no one expected. I signed up for his father’s class.Professor Ethan Parker was calm, controlled, devastatingly brilliant, and completely off-limits in every way that mattered. He was older, disciplined, and untouchable, or so everyone believed. He was supposed to be a symbol of restraint and authority, not temptation.Until the first time our eyes met across the lecture hall.Until he asked me to stay after class, his voice low and unreadable, his attention lingering just a second too long.Until one night shattered every rule I thought was carved in stone.Now I call him Professor Parker when others are listening, but in my thoughts, in my body, and in every dangerous fantasy I no longer try to suppress, he is Ethan.My ex wants forgiveness. My sister wants the past erased like it never happened.But revenge has a name, a presence, and a last name that makes their blood run cold.Because karma did not come gently.It came wearing his father’s suit, his father’s authority, and a hunger none of us saw coming.And revenge has never tasted so good.

Imagine being forced to marry a stranger.

Reina's only ever known her family's sunny farm. She can bake bread, mend a fence, and wrangle a goat but she’s never seen a skyscraper or used a subway. Her whole world changes when her grandfather’s old promise lands her in a penthouse with her new fiancé, Orion who looks at her like she’s a mud stain on his expensive shoe.

He’s a wealthy city prince who hates that he’s stuck with a country girl. She’s a whirlwind of chaos who invades his space, breaks his things and has no idea how stunning she is.

He’s counting down the days until he can send her home. She’s just trying to survive the city without embarrassing herself. There’s just one problem: the more she drives him crazy, the less he wants her to leave and the more he wonders if her kind of crazy is exactly what he needs.

But can a girl who talks to goats ever fit into his glittering world? And what happens when the simple farm girl starts to see the lonely man behind the money and decides to heal him, whether he likes it or not?

One moment I was human, sixteen years old and in love, believing my life would follow a simple, ordinary path. The next, I was taken from everything I knew and thrown into Silverwood Academy, a hidden world where wolf shifters rule, magic breathes, and survival is never guaranteed.
They see me as an anomaly. A girl who should not exist.
My mark is rare, dangerous, and tied to an ancient bloodline that was meant to stay buried. It binds me to a goddess who gives power without mercy and a destiny no one walks away from unchanged.
At Silverwood, strength decides your worth. Alphas test me. Rivals hunt me. Teachers watch, waiting for me to fail. Every full moon pushes me closer to a power I do not fully understand and a future I never asked for.
And then there is love, complicated and cruel in the way only fate can be.
I am torn between the boy I loved as a human, a bond so strong it refuses to break even after death, and a dangerous pull toward a wolf who challenges me, pushes me, and makes me question who I am becoming.
Each choice costs something. Every secret carries blood. The more power I gain, the more I risk losing myself.
They want me to be a weapon. A leader. A legend written in moonlight and war.
But I do not want a throne or a prophecy.
I just want to survive the fate that marked my soul.
Because in this world, destiny is not a gift. It is a debt, and it always demands payment

Ice Princess × Hockey Captain


I was supposed to be the next Olympic figure skating champion.

Until one fall destroyed everything.

My career.
My knee.
My future.

So I disappeared.

At Yale, I’m just another freshman trying to stay invisible.

No skating.
No spotlight.
No past.

It almost works.

Until Eli Hayes.

Yale hockey captain.
Campus golden boy.
The one person who keeps looking at me like he already knows who I am.

The more I try to push him away, the closer he gets.

And the closer we get…

the more dangerous my secret becomes.

Because if anyone finds out the truth—

that the girl hiding at Yale is the same Silver Preston whose Olympic dreams shattered on national television—

everything I rebuilt will fall apart again.

Including the one person I never meant to fall for.

In a werewolf pack that despised weakness, Aphrodite learned to survive by staying quiet, keeping her head down, and enduring cruelty in silence. The Alpha heirs hated her. The future Beta and Gamma made her life unbearable. When she finally breaks and seeks freedom at the Moon Goddess temple, she does not find release.

She finds truth.

Aphrodite is not human at all. She is a rare white wolf, descended from an ancient Direwolf bloodline long believed extinct. The ritual meant to sever her ties awakens her wolf instead and with it comes the scent of five mates bound to her by fate.

The Alpha twins who once scorned her now cannot stay away. A human hunter walks beside her and proves that strength is not born of fangs or dominance. A cursed Wolf King holds the key to her past and her father’s imprisonment. And watching from the shadows is one who was never meant to interfere at all.

As gods fall, packs fracture, and war reshapes the world, Aphrodite must decide what destiny truly means. Is it submission to fate or the courage to choose her own path.

Love does not come in one form. Neither does power.

In a world ruled by gods and wolves, Aphrodite will become something neither ever expected.

Not a queen.

But the axis upon which the world turns.

Five wolves. Five forbidden bloodlines that were never meant to exist. For forty years, a secret organization known as the Hollow Court has hunted them, determined to erase them before they can rise.

Mona learned how to disappear to survive. Neve has been controlled by a stepmother who fears her power. Rune has never been allowed beyond her own front door. Briar cannot touch anyone without calculating the danger. Mira understands the world better than most, yet has never truly lived in it.

They are strangers, scattered and hidden. For now.

The Hollow Court knows exactly who they are. It has been watching, waiting for the moment each of them awakens. Because these women are not just wolves. They are rare bloodlines with the power to change everything.

As their paths collide, secrets unravel and a new kind of pack is formed. Not one built on fear, but on choice, loyalty, and bonds that do not demand sacrifice of self. Together, they begin to uncover the truth about what they are and why they were hunted long before they were born.

This is a binge-worthy wolf shifter epic filled with powerful female leads, slow-burn connections, found family, and a rising rebellion that will reshape their world.

They were raised to believe they were dangerous.
Now they are done holding back.

I thought marrying the Alpha would finally give me a place in the pack.
I was wrong.
On the night we were bound, he rejected me. Not in private. Not with mercy. He tore the mate bond apart before the entire pack and accused me of carrying another man’s child. I was stripped of my title, cast out, and left to survive alone while pregnant with the very heir he denied.
I should have died in those woods.
Instead, I was found by something far more dangerous than an Alpha.
The Direwolf Alpha is feared by every pack. Exiled. Scarred. Ruthless. He does not follow pack law or bow to fate. When he looks at me, he does not see a weak, wolf-less woman or a burdened womb.
He sees something worth claiming.
As my body changes, so does everything I believed about myself. The wolf I was told I did not have begins to stir, and the child I carry draws whispers of prophecy and power. The pack that rejected me wants me back. The mate who humiliated me suddenly remembers my name.
But the Direwolf who claimed me has no intention of giving me up.
I was rejected while pregnant.
Now I must decide who I will become and which bond I will choose.

I only came to the Academy to survive. Love was never part of the plan.

But the moment my eyes met his-Darius Fenrir, heir to the most powerful Alpha line-my wolf whispered one word that shattered everything.

Mate.

He should have been my destiny. Instead, he rejected me in front of everyone.

Weak. Unworthy. Unwanted.

Now I walk the halls branded by his pride, whispers snapping at my heels, every look reminding me that I'll never be enough for an Alpha.

But I refuse to bow.

Because while Darius watches me with storm-dark eyes full of regret, another wolf circles closer-Gideon Wicke, his rival, his enemy... and the one who offers me the power to strike back.

Two Alphas. One bond.

And me, caught between pride, love, and a war that could tear the Academy apart.

He rejected me once. This time, I'll decide who burns.

At Whitmore Academy for the Supernaturally Gifted, power is everything and perfection is expected.

Carly McPherson has spent years building her reputation as the strongest witch in school, the leader of her coven, and the girl who never fails. As a Blackriver cheerleader with a legacy to uphold, she is used to being in control. But senior year is unraveling faster than she can hold it together. Between planning the most important Homecoming in school history, surviving brutal magical expectations, and keeping her image flawless, the pressure is cracking through.

Then there are the boys.

One is darkness wrapped in a letterman jacket, with amber eyes that see too much and secrets that refuse to stay buried. The other is fire and chaos, all sharp smiles and leather, pulling Carly toward something reckless and dangerous. Both threaten the careful balance she has built, and neither is willing to let her walk away untouched.

As rival factions stir, hidden magic surfaces, and loyalties begin to fracture, Carly finds herself caught in something far bigger than school drama. Power comes with a cost, and the deeper she falls into secrets, desire, and betrayal, the harder it becomes to tell who she can trust.

In a world where witches, wolves, and vampires collide, one wrong move could destroy everything.

And Carly is running out of time to keep it all from burning.

At Thornfield Academy, power wears a perfect smile.
Old money. Legacy names. Students raised to rule the world before they even graduate. They call themselves untouchable. They call themselves saints.

They’re lying.

Jordan is not supposed to exist here. Not under this name. Not in this body. Disguised as James Blake, she’s hiding in plain sight, buried inside a school built on secrets, privilege, and rot. One wrong move and everything unravels. Her past. Her identity. The truth about the blood she left behind.

But Thornfield is not just another elite academy.

The students are watching. Testing. Hunting for weakness.

The pretty sinners who break people for fun.
The dirty saints who pretend they’re innocent.

And then there’s Teddy Phillips. Too kind for a place like this. Too close for comfort.

Then there's the captain of the Soccer team. The only one who might see through her before she’s ready.

Because Jordan did not come here just to survive.

She came here because Thornfield is hiding something.

And if she is right, the lies buried in these halls are worth killing for.

In a school where legacy is everything, the truth is the most dangerous thing of all.

Three years ago, Jason De'Leon lost everything.

Prison took his freedom. A murderer took his father. And the man responsible stole the motorcycle club that should have been Jason's birthright.

When Jason returns to Las Vegas, he finds a kingdom built on lies and ruled by Victor Kane, the man everyone fears and no one dares betray.

Not even Lila Torres.

Beautiful, untouchable, and promised to Victor in a deal she never agreed to, Lila belongs to another man's future. But from the moment she and Jason cross paths, the attraction between them burns hotter than reason and far more dangerous than either of them can afford.

Every stolen glance becomes a temptation.

Every secret meeting becomes a risk.

Every touch pushes them closer to a line they can never uncross.

As Jason hunts for the truth behind his father's murder, he finds himself trapped between vengeance and desire. The deeper he falls for Lila, the more enemies he creates. And in a world where loyalty is bought with blood and betrayal is punished with death, loving her could destroy them both.

But some obsessions are worth dying for.

And some loves are born in the darkest places.

In the neon shadows of Las Vegas, a ruthless biker king will fight for revenge, a captive woman will fight for her freedom, and together they'll ignite a war that could burn an empire to the ground.

Because Victor Kane may own the club.

He may own the city.

But he will never own her heart.

Eli Michealson owns Las Vegas. The casinos, the power, the fear that follows his name everywhere he goes. Known as the Ghost, he is ruthless, untouchable, and completely uninterested in anything that does not bend to his will.

Brigail Havens is just trying to survive. A broke Southern girl with a sharp tongue, a painful past, and debts that refuse to stay buried. She did not come to Vegas to gamble with her life. She came to work, to pay what her family owes, and to keep her head down.

Their worlds collide over a poker table where nothing is as simple as it seems. Eli is convinced Brigail is hiding something, tied to a man who once tried to destroy him. Brigail wants nothing to do with a powerful billionaire who thinks he can intimidate his way into the truth.

But defiance sparks obsession, and curiosity turns dangerous when Eli decides the only way to control the game is to own every piece of it, including her job, her freedom, and maybe her heart.

She does not trust him. He does not know how to let her go.

In a city built on lies, money, and temptation, one wrong move could cost everything. And falling for the one person you should never want might be the most dangerous bet of all.

She was sold to a man with six wives，she seduced them all.


The system was built to sell me off, so I married the one man who’d let me burn it down.My family picked the wrong girl to auction off for their debts. Sure, the offers rolled in from every rich, arrogant bore in the empire. But I’m not interested in being any man’s prize. My secret? I’m a lesbian and their laws forbid my heart. So, I chose the only player smart enough to make it interesting: Khalid al-Munsif, the legendary Falcon with six brilliant wives.

He doesn’t want a wife. He wants a strategist. And his palace wasn’t what I was expecting. It's a web of secrets, and each wife is a thread. My new mission? Learn their strengths. Unravel the conspiracies choking this kingdom. And maybe, just maybe, fall desperately in love with the sword-dancer whose smile is sharper than her blade.

They thought they could trap a wild thing. Big mistake. I don’t just break cages. I take them over.

Luciano Knight
'Analise James'. The woman who owns my heart. Romance is not my thing when everyday I have a new girl to warm my bed. She is special and just watching her work in those small dresses serving drinks makes me fall for her deeper than ever. She is my perfect and will become my precious possession. Looking at her gives me peace.
I have been keeping an eye on her for two years now. She works as a waitress in my club. And soon she will be mine.
..................................
He gave her everything but stole her freedom and broke her soul.

Callum Brennan was born to lead London's most powerful werewolf pack. Then his twin brother framed him for murder.
Stripped of everything, Callum is thrown into the Rookeries, where packless wolves go to die. But he survives. He builds a pack from the broken and the damned. He falls in love with Valentina, a dhampir hunted by the same vampire Parliament that destroyed his life.
In a city ruled by immortal aristocrats and controlled by ancient dragons, Callum learns the hardest truth: individual virtue cannot defeat systemic evil. But small victories matter. And some fights are worth losing everything