7065 Book(s) Related to did the moon die

"I need an heir, would you like to have a baby with me, my mate?"

***Keegan Suzy Madison was trying to do is raise money for her father's kidney surgery. She was on her way home to sell the last of her properties to pay for her dad's oxygen when a car ran into her.

Cruise Tyson White is the Alpha of the Dark-Cross Moon Pack. He is the most feared Alpha and has made his pack the most powerful in the whole of Virginia.

After the death of his father, Cruise is set to pick up his inheritance and return to Washington where his multimillion wine company and girlfriend were. To get the inheritance, he would have to bring forth an heir.

You're nothing but a mistake that should have died with your mother," he sneers, his silver eyes cold as ice. "But since fate cursed me with you, I'll make sure you suffer every single day."

Aria Stone was born under a blood moon, a curse that killed her mother and left her with strange powers no wolf should possess. Her pack feared her. Her father hated her. And when her wolf never came at sixteen, she became the weakest link in the Shadowfang Pack.

Now, on her eighteenth birthday, Aria discovers the truth: she's not wolfless. She's something far more dangerous. And the ruthless Alpha King who's hunted her kind for centuries has finally found her.

Dante Blackwood doesn't want a mate. Especially not one cursed by the blood moon. He came to kill her, to end the prophecy that threatens his reign. But the moment their eyes meet, the bond snaps into place, and he realizes killing her might destroy him too.

Caught between a mate who wants her dead and a power she can't control, Aria must uncover the truth about her birth before the blood moon rises again. Because this time, it won't just take her mother's life, it will take everyone she's ever loved.

I think I'm dead.

When I opened my eyes, I found myself standing in an abandoned amusement park, and my body was sitting on that slowly turning carousel.

I was only ten years old. I don't know how I died.

Detective Sarah, the blonde officer, promised to find the truth. So I followed her, watching her peel away layer after layer of lies—

In my diary, I wrote down all my fears and all my waiting.

On the phone, Mom sent that video of me laughing.

In the autopsy report, evidence of long-term abuse filled every page.

Mom had been saving money for three years, saying she'd take me away. That afternoon she picked me up from school and said, "We're really leaving this time."

Then what happened? Why did I die at the amusement park? Why was Mom's first reaction after my death not to call the police, but to—

I thought Mom came to save me.

Until I saw the text message she sent...

When I was nine months pregnant, my husband, Torin, forced doctors to extract my baby's cord blood to save his ex-wife's son. My baby died of suffocation ten minutes after birth, right before my eyes.
Instigated by his biological mother, my stepson sneaked into my room late at night and poured silver powder all over me. My skin rotted; the scars would last forever.
Later, the hospital ward caught fire, cutting off my escape. On the brink of life and death, Torin glanced back at me, scooped up his ex-wife, and walked into the safe zone without looking back.
Even later, he knelt in the ruins, hands dripping with blood, digging through the rubble brick by brick.
Until his subordinate stepped up behind him and choked out, "Alpha... we found the Luna's body."

On the night my grandmother died, my husband Kael came home trailing blood.
His leather motorcycle jacket was soaked dark red, yet he flashed a savage grin: "I wiped the floor with those bastards tonight!"
For three years, he had treated our home as nothing more than a pit stop between reckless street races.
I’d finally had enough. "After the funeral, we're getting a divorce."
Before the words fully left my mouth, my phone rang. It was his riding partner, Lunn, his voice choking with sobs: "Sera... Kael drove off the cliff tonight. They only recovered bloody pieces of his helmet!"
But the "dead man" was standing right in front of me...

My husband often made me suffer for the sake of my younger sister, even divorcing me because of her.
My parents gave all their love to my sister and neglected me.
My husband and parents even had my sister perform surgery on me.
But they didn't know that my sister had no idea how to perform surgery.
It didn't matter though, because I no longer cared.
On Christmas Day, when they were celebrating, they finally remembered me.
But I was already dead.

Six days after Alexander lost all contact, I navigated my way alone to the Nightfall Gala to find him.

The guard's expression twisted into something peculiar when he heard my purpose.

"You're saying you are looking for your mate, Prince Alexander? And what is your name?"

"I am Cecilia."

The guard let out a harsh, mocking snort. "Stop causing a scene! A blind beggar trying to pull a scam? Don't think you can just impersonate her just because you know the name of the Prince's mate."

"Everyone knows the Prince just gifted Cecilia the millennia-old Abyssal Night Crystal to celebrate her pregnancy! What the hell are you?"

Just then, the giant LED screen cut to the Gala's live broadcast.

"Allow me to formally introduce my partner, Cecilia. Furthermore, she is expecting. Our family is about to welcome a new heir." It was Alexander's voice.

"Thank you all. This is the greatest gift Alexander and I could ever receive."

The moment that sweet, timid voice echoed through the hall, a string violently snapped in my brain. A sharp ringing pierced my eardrums.

—It was the voice of my twin sister, Elena.

I watched from the window as my other mate watched me get sucked and fucked to oblivion by my other mate, Alpha Stephan.
I should feel horrible for keeping this secret, but if I told him I was also mated to his mortal enemy, I might lose them both.
"You're so fucking wet," Stephan growled in my ear as the sound of our mating rang out across the room and outside. I knew it was because watching Hunter watch me was turning me on more than usual.

Being in the centre of two powerful men, being the object of their desire, one inside of me and the other pumping his dick with his hands to the sight of me...
It made me delirious with lust, and as my pussy squeezed tight with my impending orgasm, Hunter's warm cum spilled out of him, falling from the tree he hung on, down to the ground.


Cassandra's Mom died, and according to her stepfather, it was all her fault. Maybe it was, maybe not, but he's only the first problem she has to face even as he spent one whole year beating her and her wolf into dormancy.
When Alpha Stephan finally rescues her, she thinks she's safe now, happy, and content. Until the night of her Mating Ceremony...
"Cassandra Harrison," a voice that wasn't her Pack burst through her mental shield, something impossible, and he offered her revenge for her parents.

But Cassie was done fighting, she always lost so she told him to leave her alone. But how could he... when they are fated mates? And how cruel the Fates were, giving her an Alpha and a rogue king as equal mates, she must choose.
Or not. But come whatever she does, a greater evil lies far out of their view, and only together can they conquer it. But first, she must decide, the perfect Alpha who gave peace and purpose, or the brutish rogue who promised her revenge and a crown?

Three torturous years hauling bodies on the mortuary night shift, and I'd finally scraped together the cash for my brother Charles's heart transplant.
He just waved it off.
"My heart is fine. Mom and Dad didn't die in that gang war, either. I orchestrated the hit. You were the only casualty."
Nearby, my husband, Gerald, casually lit a cigar to deliver his own confession. "I never went bankrupt. 'Laying low' was just my excuse to avoid squeezing into that dingy funeral home dorm with you. I've been at the Long Island estate."
"I was going to punish you for another three years," Charles added, "but the stench of formaldehyde on you is nauseating. We couldn't take it anymore."
I froze, still clutching the credit card. Charles plucked the plastic from my numb fingers and shoved his phone screen in my face. A banking app stared back at me.
Balance: exactly zero.
"My name is still on the joint account," he sneered, tossing the card into the trash. "I drained it this morning. That blood money you made bagging stiffs is being handed out to street junkies as we speak. We'd never touch that filth."
Before the sheer absurdity of it could suffocate me, my parents walked in. Flanked by bodyguards, they kept their distance, eyeing me like a plague rat.
"You thought being the biological daughter gave you the right to ruthlessly bully Violet. We simply wanted to put you in your place."
"Swear you'll never cross Violet again, and you can remain a Falcone," my mother added coolly. "Otherwise, you're dead to us."
In the stifling silence that followed, my phone buzzed. A text from my oncologist.
[Mrs. Castello, the results are back. It's terminal. Do you consent to initiating the hospice and DNR protocols we discussed?]

I was dead, and the whole world was celebrating for my sister.

For twenty-two years, I had been the hardest-working but most invisible daughter in the Sterling family, forever living in the shadow of my gymnastics prodigy sister.

Running a high fever, I begged my family to take me to the hospital, only to hear: "Don't you DARE ruin Bella's award ceremony!"

When I was tricked into the abandoned equipment room and used my last breath to call my boyfriend while lying in a pool of blood, all I heard was: "Grace, quit the drama! Bella's accepting her award on stage!"

On stage, thunderous applause erupted as Bella lifted the "Young Gymnast of the Year" trophy.

And I drew my final breath.

When they returned home triumphant, thinking I had run away in a tantrum, they had no idea I was already dead right under their noses.

"You're nothing but a stupid omega. I reject you as my mate!" Alpha Kaiden's cruel words echoed through the ceremonial grounds as he publicly shamed me in front of the entire pack.
As an omega, Elara has always been treated like dirt by her pack, forced to work like a slave just to live. When she finds the young, arrogant Alpha Kaiden is her fated mate, she dares to hope for a better life. Instead, he uses her, exploits her, and eventually rejects her for a "stronger" she-wolf.
Left broken and abandoned, Elara faces death at the hands of rogues when she's suddenly rescued by the feared Lycan King Alaric - a man whose reputation for ruthlessness precedes him. To everyone's shock, the cruel king shows a gentle side only to Elara.
As she finds refuge in his country, Elara begins to discover powers within herself that were always meant to be hers. But when her former pack faces danger and Kaiden comes crawling back, Elara must decide: forgive the man who broke her, or accept the king who helped her rise from the ashes?
One thing is certain - she's no longer the weak omega they once knew.

Colt once whispered that I wasn't safe if my identity was exposed.
Human.
A human in the packs of wolves.

I believed him.
I just never imagined he’d be the one to hand me over.

The night he betrayed me, I expected death.
I was taken to Alpha Tristan — the cursed Alpha who was like a monster.

I thought he’d take what he needed and leave me dead.

But when his eyes met mine, something changed in the air between us.

His curse surged.
His body reacted like it recognized me.
And he hesitated.

From the first moment he touched my skin, something inside him shifted…

There was a pull.
A pull I didn’t want.
A pull he didn’t trust.

And when he stepped back, shaken to his core, he whispered the words that ruined us both:

“You’re my mate.”

Everything after that fell apart fast —
his lover’s rage,
his pack’s betrayal,
the war that rose to swallow us whole.

Yet through all of it, he kept choosing me.
Even when it tore pieces out of him.
Even when the curse dragged him closer to the edge each night.

But darkness has long memories, and mine goes back to the night my parents died.
The blood.
The fire.
The shadowed figure I ran from.

The closer I got to Tristan, the more that memory twisted…
until I realized the truth could destroy both of us.

Because the man fate tied me to —
the man I shouldn’t want,
the man who held me like I was something worth saving —
was tangled in the very tragedy that ruined my life.

Loving him feels like standing inside a fire.
Letting go feels worse.

And fate…
fate has never cared about what either of us deserves.

On the eve of a deadly betrayal, Lola witnesses the unimaginable—her parents murdered while protecting a mysterious stranger. Helpless behind a barred door, she watches her world crumble.

Once the proud daughter of the Beta, Lola is cast down to the lowest rank—wolfless, mateless, and branded an Omega. Her once-bright future vanishes overnight.

Now, days away from her 18th birthday, a moment every wolf anticipates with hope, Lola waits for her shift... but nothing happens.

No wolf. No mate. No future.

But destiny doesn’t forget. And neither does Lola.

On the night of the Moon Festival, Aria Everhart thought her life was about to change forever. Born an outcast in the powerful Silvercrest Pack, she never imagined the Moon Goddess would bless her with the most coveted mate of all—Alpha Killian Thorne. Ruthless, commanding, and devastatingly handsome, he was the kind of mate every she-wolf dreamed of.

But fate is cruel.

Instead of love, Aria is met with cold indifference. Instead of protection, she is cast aside, branded as unworthy, and forced into servitude beneath the very pack that should have cherished her. Alpha Killian’s heart belongs to another, a woman far more suited to his power, and he makes it clear—he wants nothing to do with Aria.

Yet, the bond refuses to break.

As shadows of war loom over the packs and dark secrets unravel, Killian begins to realize that the mate he scorned may be the key to his salvation. But Aria is no longer the broken girl who begged for his love. She has secrets of her own, a bloodline more powerful than anyone imagined, and a destiny that could either save or destroy them all.

Selene Marionette Alvarez was once the devoted Luna-to-be of the West Pack—loyal, kind, and willing to sacrifice everything for love. Betrayed by her mate and her own sister, her life ended under the cold light of the full moon.

But death was not the end.

Bound to a mysterious moon hourglass linked to her bloodline, Selene is sent six years into the past, awakening in a life she no longer lives and a world that has not yet broken her. Armed with memories of betrayal and the truth of her own murder, she returns not as a victim, but as a woman determined to rewrite her fate.

As Selene navigates her second life, she hides her sharp mind and simmering rage behind a familiar mask of warmth and charm. While those around her remain unaware, she carefully reshapes relationships, consolidates her influence, and prepares for the future she knows is coming.

When a new mate—Ryzen Jarren Morwood—enters her life, Selene is forced to confront a question she never expected: can a heart once shattered choose love again?

The Luna Who Reversed the Moon’s Hourglass is a story of revenge, rebirth, and redemption—where fate is challenged, power is reclaimed, and a Luna learns that sometimes survival is only the beginning.

Xie Yijin hated me more than anyone in this world.

He called me vicious as a scorpion, said I schemed about everything, stole all that belonged to Lin Wanwan, and destroyed the one he held dearest.

Xie Yijin shielded Lin Wanwan tightly behind him.
The eyes that once looked at me with such tenderness were now frozen over with unmelting ice.
He pointed straight at me, every word cutting like a blade:

"Shen Zhiyi, why don’t you just die?!"

I froze in place, my fingertips ice-cold.
Unconsciously, I still clutched that crumpled, yellowed candy wrapper.

He had given it to me when he was seven years old,
saying that when I grew up, he would marry me
and buy me candies for the rest of my life.

But now…
he only wanted me dead.

"Strip her naked and throw her in a dog cage."
When Vincent Sterling gave the order, Serena clutched her stomach in despair: "I'm carrying your baby!"
Vincent just lit a cigarette, watching coldly as the bodyguard’s boot slammed into her belly. "Get rid of it. I don't want anything filthy."
That night, to avenge his childhood sweetheart, Vincent personally killed his own flesh and blood, trampling his wife—whom he had loved for ten years—into the mud.
Later, the truth came to light.
The so-called "infidelity videos" are AI-generated, and the manipulative woman's pain is self-perpetuated.
Seeing the signed divorce agreement and the blood-stained ring, the arrogant Vincent went completely mad.
He knelt in the pouring rain for three days and nights, begging her to come back.
This time, Serena sat in her wheelchair, gazing down at him with an icy, detached gaze.
"Vincent, I don't hate you, but I hate you for being filthy."

On the day I lost our child, I discovered my husband entwined in an affair with his secretary.

He hurried to my hospital bed, tears brimming in his eyes, vowing that we would have another baby—while his mistress was already sixteen weeks pregnant.

Thus, I granted him his wishes: a lamenting wife's performance, a fabricated death, and a clean escape.

Three months later, he crashed through the door, eyes frenzied, proclaiming he would set the world ablaze to earn my forgiveness.

The day I gave birth, I wasn't handed my crying baby, but a tight swaddle of blood-stained cash.
To secure his seat as the new Don, my husband had traded our newborn to Agatha—my own flesh-and-blood aunt, and the young wife of his paralyzed father.
Reduced to nothing more than a convenient incubator, I spent the next four years as a prisoner in my own home.
Ronald issued a ruthless order to his men: if I ever took a single step toward Agatha’s heavily guarded wing to see my son, I was to be shot on sight.
But a mother's desperation knows no bounds.
When my boy's fever spiked dangerously high, I blasted through armed guards and walked through a blazing inferno just to save his life.
Yet, the most fatal wound didn't come from the flames or the shattered glass.
It happened in the ER, when the four-year-old boy I nearly died to save woke up, shoved away my severely burned hands, and screamed for Agatha. He begged me to leave, crying that he just wanted to be a "real family" with his dad and the woman who stole my life.
Staring at the twisted family my husband and aunt had built upon my stolen motherhood, a sudden, icy numbness quieted my shattered world.
"Call me Mom one last time," I whispered through the ash and tears, "and I promise I'll never bother you again."

irectly in front of me.
Only the night before, she’d been curled up in my arms, her warm fingertips brushing my collarbone, our bodies tangled in tender, loving intimacy.
Yet the toe tag fastened around her ankle was etched with cold, unflinching words: Su Wan, Female, 22. Cause of death: fatal fall from height. Time in morgue custody: 365 days.
She had been dead for an entire year.
Just what in the hell was the woman who’d gasped beneath me night after night, who’d lived beside me day in and day out for six whole months—the woman I’d called my girlfriend?

My husband's foster sister, Delilah, gets poisoned and ends up paralyzed. My husband, Grayson, the Don of this whole crime family, doesn't even bother checking the security cameras. He just throws me, two months pregnant, into the cistern where they punish traitors.

"Tessa, hand over the antidote, or die."

I kneel in the freezing swamp water and beg him. I didn't poison her.

He answers with a kick to the stomach.

For three straight days, I suffer down there. Leeches tear into my skin. My baby turns into a pool of black blood and dissolves into the filthy water. By the end, my vocal cords tear to shreds, my body goes cold, and I stop breathing.

His men get on their knees and beg him to spare me. He just sneers.

"That woman's always been good at playing the victim. No food, no medicine. Let her keep soaking."

Three days later, he finally walks into the cistern, and it's only to give me an ultimatum.

"Crawl out and apologize to Delilah on your knees. Otherwise I'll strip you of your title and sell you off to a trafficking ring. You'll wish you were dead."

No one answers him.

He has no idea. I already am.

Liora, a slave sold by her own aunt, kills the knight who tries to violate her. As a mere slave, her fate is sealed; execution. But King Malachai has other plans. Knowing the power in her witch bloodline, he forces her into marriage with his cursed, illegitimate son, Kieran. No one has seen Kieran’s face. They whisper of a monster, a beast who returns from war without an army yet always victorious. The truth is darker, he is a werewolf, cursed for a sin that was never his. Now bound to a man feared by all, Liora must survive his world of blood and secrets.

Elle needs cash. Rain needs to survive a pack war. The cards say they’re fated mates—but the pack wants her dead.

​When struggling tarot reader Elle sets up her table outside a local club, she’s just trying to pay rent. She never expected to read the fortune of Rain, a lethal, newly elected Wolf Alpha on the verge of a brutal war. One touch sparks the fated mate bond, turning Elle's world upside down.

​"You're in my way," he grunted, trying to slide past her.

​But Elle lost all control. Her hand snapped out, gripping his arm. The moment their skin met, blinding electric sparks flooded her veins. Rain froze, his back still to her as he growled, "Stop it. We cannot."

​Naturally, her brain took that as a green light. "What's your name?" Elle blurted out, a sudden, mortifying case of verbal diarrhea taking over. "I love your eyes, they are so hot... you're so beautiful. I’m Elle, by the way. I’m a tarot reader. If you like, I could pull some cards for you?"

​Internally, she wanted to swallow her tongue. Did I really just call a terrifying stranger beautiful?

​Flushing a deep crimson from her chest to her neck, Elle turned to walk away from his heavy silence. But Rain caught her, pulling her flush against his chest. He leaned down, his breath hot against her ear as his dangerous, deep blue eyes locked onto hers.

​"Let’s do it," he whispered.

​The tarot cards didn't lie, but they didn't prepare her for the raw, terrifying power radiating from him—or the way his touch made her feel like she was melting. Yet, just as the air in the room shifted and the primal heat between them snapped to a devastating breaking point, Rain suddenly ripped himself away, his chest heaving as he forced a brutal distance between them.

​"Right now, we can't," he choked out, his Alpha voice tight with a desperate, agonizing restraint. "I’m sorry. It’s not that I don’t want you. You’re more beautiful than I have words for... but I fucking can’t."

​Elle stared at him, feeling like her world had just been shattered into a million pieces. "What the fuck is this?" she demanded, a mix of hurt and fury flashing in her eyes. "Never mind. Stay the fuck away from me. I have bigger things to worry about than this."

​Can a street-smart psychic and a hardened alpha bridge the gap between their worlds before the brewing war destroys them both?

Drunk and disoriented after her best friend's funeral, Ginevra Bennet stumbles through a door in an ivy-covered wall...and finds herself in a dry wasteland under a dying crimson sun, the only possible shelter a giant stone castle. If it's a hallucination, it's a deadly one; the Keep is full of beauty, luxury, courtly manners--and monsters. The inhabitants rejoice in her arrival, dress her in white, and call her a queen. Greenery returns to their gardens, and the prince of the realm, with his silver-ringed eyes, seems very interested in Gin indeed. It should be the answer to every lonely young woman's dreams. But nothing in Gin's life has ever been what it's seemed. Not her best friend, not her upbringing, and most especially not her nightmares. Drowning, violent death, a stone roof, and the hallucinatory prince have filled her nights, and Gin hopes she's going mad--because the alternative is just too scary to contemplate. Caught in a web of manners, intrigue, and betrayal, Gin has to depend on her sorely tested wits and uncertain sanity. There are Gates at the edge of the wasteland, and if she can escape the castle and its beautiful, terrifying inhabitants, she might just find a few answers and be able to get home. Assuming, of course, home is where she really wants to be...

My parents raised me for twenty-four years. Then they found out I wasn't their biological daughter.

Their real daughter came home. She'd only been back two years. That's all it took to erase twenty-four.

When kidnappers grabbed us, I used my body as a shield. They beat me until something inside me ruptured. I was dying from internal bleeding, but no one could tell.

My parents wouldn't even look at me. "This is your fault! None of this would've happened if it weren't for you!"

"Get downstairs and apologize to your sister. If you can't, pack your things and get out."

They threw her a party at a downtown hotel while I died alone in my room.

I thought they'd be relieved. Maybe even glad. I thought they'd just move on like I never existed.

But when they finally learned the truth, they fell apart.

On my birthday, I was dragged up to the attic and assaulted by several men.
I called my parents, brother, and boyfriend for help, but they all thought I was seeking attention and ruining my sister Sophie's celebration.
"Mia, stop it. We're busy preparing for Sophie's party. If you want attention, find another way."
This was the hundredth time they'd let me down.
But there won't be a hundred and first.
Because I'm already dead.

He hated witches with a burning passion, vowing to hunt them all down, until he tasted her blood on his lips.

"Alpha, we found the moon girl," they said. I expected a monster. Instead, I found Lyra. She was fragile, beautiful, and carried the scent of lavender and rain that drove my wolf insane. I should have killed her. The prophecy said she would end the packs. But when I touched her skin, sparks of electricity shattered my immunity. My wolf, Rudy, howled in my mind, screaming one word: Mate.

I denied it. I threw her in a dungeon. I tried to ignore the pull. But when the Shadow Pack abducted her, my control snapped. I drove into that forest like a man possessed. I tore through the rogues, ripping throats with my teeth. When I saw her in that cage, covered in filth, looking at me with those terrified silver eyes, I didn't see a witch. I saw mine.

I ripped the iron bars apart with my bare hands. "Come out," I commanded. She tried to heal my wounds in the car, her magic humming against my skin. "Never use magic on me," I growled, terrified by how much I liked it. I didn't take her back to the dungeon. I took her to my private quarters. Now, she sleeps in the room next to mine, and I stand at her door every night, fighting the urge to claim the enemy who was destined to be my soulmate.


Locked in the Alpha's bedroom, Lyra discovers two things: she has forbidden magic, and her captor wants to use her body to satiate his wolf. He claims he hates witches, but every night he comes closer to breaking his own rules.

They told me the baby was gone, but they didn't tell me my heart was being carved out, too.

I woke up on the operating table, paralyzed. Through my blurred vision, I saw my beloved husband, Marco, trembling with excitement as he held my medical chart.

"Her blood is perfect," he whispered. "It is a perfect match for Isabella. We can proceed with the transplant now."

"Finally. It wasn't in vain that I brought her back." My revered father let out a sigh of relief. "If it weren't for this day, how would someone who wandered outside for so many years be qualified to step into this house again?"

When my husband said "I love you," he actually meant "Your heart is perfect for the woman I truly love."

I couldn't scream; I couldn't move.

I could only watch helplessly as the silver scalpel pierced toward my chest, while my sister, Isabella, lay on the operating table next to me, smiling in her sleep.

I was never a long-lost daughter, nor was I a beloved wife.

I was just a mobile blood bank waiting to be slaughtered.

Introduction: Three years ago, to pay for my sister's medical treatment, I willingly took on the role of a servant to the wealthy heiress Daisy, becoming a smuggling criminal and struggling to survive amidst humiliation. Daisy's family, with their cruel hearts, took advantage of the impending apocalyptic cold wave to murder both my sister and me. Reborn, I am determined to rewrite our fate. When hunters who revel in harming unarmed civilians besiege our shelter, I raise my gun—in this apocalyptic cold wave, anyone who dares to harm my sister will die!

In a world where love is a dangerous game, Leila Castor finds herself charmed by the devil himself. Ben Maloney, with his alluring facade and sweet promises, hides an evil truth that threatens Leila's life. When he betrays her, leaving her to choke on her blood, Leila's thirst for revenge knows no bounds.

And luckily fate grants her a second chance, And discovers she has been taken back in time two months before her death! Will she rewrite the wrongs done to her or set out on a path of retribution against those who wronged her?

She thought she was human—until she drowned.

She wakes in the body of a missing selkie princess in a hidden island kingdom… and quickly realizes she’ll be executed if anyone discovers the truth.

The only person who knows? Her guard—cold, loyal, and furious she’s taken the place of the woman he was sworn to protect.

When her unstable shifting magic reveals something impossible—both selkie and tideborn blood—he’s forced to keep her secret… because exposing her would destabilize the crown.

Now, bound by duty and necessity, they must secretly search for the real princess—before her magic exposes them both.

When my younger brother got into a top university, the whole family celebrated for him.
I, suffering from a terminal illness, clutched my chest and desperately cried for help, only to be met with a disgusted slap from my mother and the words, "You just can't stand to see your brother doing well!"
She thought I was a spoilsport, so she roughly dragged me back to the room and locked the door from the outside.
She didn't know that those were the last words I ever heard in my life.
The next morning, she opened the door with breakfast in hand, only to find my corpse.

I don't realize how badly I've been wronged until they're strapping me to the gurney.

My name is Camille Brooks. I'm one of the best cardiothoracic surgeons in the city, and I have never lost a patient on my table.

My fiancé, Adrian Vance, is the golden boy of the entire hospital. We're supposed to get married next month.

It's a stormy night when he calls, telling me to get to the hospital right now. There's a patient bleeding out, and only I can save them.

I race through the rain, but I get stuck in traffic halfway there. By the time I push through the OR doors, the patient has no pulse.

The family points at me. They say I botched the procedure and killed him. And Adrian Vance, my own fiancé, takes the stand and shows up with "ironclad evidence" against me.

I have nothing to fight back with. I go to prison. My parents can't handle it. It destroys them both. They take their own lives.

It's only after I die that I learn who really held the scalpel that night: Daisy Whitman, the woman Adrian never got over.

I was just the fall guy.

Then I open my eyes.

I'm back. One hour before everything falls apart, riding through the rain toward the hospital.

This time, I'm going to survive.

And I'm going to watch both of you burn.

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.

That night, I was dragged into a parking lot and beaten until my hands could never hold a scalpel again.

I thought it was random. Until I heard my own brother and fiancé talking—

"Those thugs went too far, but the result works out, doesn't it? This time, the award will go to Charlotte."

Charlotte. The "poor orphan" my family adopted.

For twelve years, she stole my papers, my opportunities, my glory. And the two men I trusted most handed her everything on a silver platter.

They called me spoiled. Selfish. Difficult.

They even believed I started the fire that killed our parents twelve years ago.

But here's the truth: Charlotte started that fire. I was the one who dragged them out.

They thanked the wrong sister. For twelve years.

Now they want me dead.

Fine. Let Penelope Ashworth die.

I was always the extra daughter in the Cross family.
To my parents, I was nothing more than a walking blood bank for Clara. To my husband Adrian, I was a sinner who needed to atone for her crimes.
When Adrian forced me to donate a kidney to my sister, I agreed.
Not only did I agree, I liquidated every asset I owned and transferred it all to my research lab.
They thought I was stupid, thought I was still desperate for their love.
But all I was doing was putting my affairs in order.
The night before the surgery, I coughed up blood all over the table.
Adrian sneered over the phone. "Cut the act, Evelyn. You'll do anything to dodge responsibility. You just want attention—how pathetic."
The surgery was a "success."
My sister got the kidney she'd always wanted.
And I died in the recovery room.
My soul floated above my body as I watched Adrian walk into the hospital room, that patronizing smile on his face, ready to put on his "repentant husband" act.
"Eve, I know you've been hurt. Let's start over..."
The only answer he got was a white sheet pulled over my face.

For twelve centuries, the exiled vampire king waited for the prophecy foretold to restore his fallen power. But never expected the girl destined to save him to be the reincarnation of the wife he lost.

Anastasia has spent 18 years of her life beneath her grandmother's watchful eye, hidden from a world she never knew wanted her dead. Sheltered. Obedient. Ordinary – or so she believed.

And the illness slowly stealing her life is not just a disease. It is an awakening.

The man she has quietly loved from afar – the impossibly perfect, untouchable Mr. William – is not who she thought he was either.

He is older than memory. A king without a kingdom. A vampire betrayed by his own brother, stripped of his power, and exiled from the ancient realm of Umbralord centuries ago.

And Anastasia is the one prophecy foretold would restore what was

She knows what she is to him:

A prophecy. A key. A sacrifice.

Anastasia knows there is no escaping destiny . So she makes him an offer.

For six months. He was to date her. Love her. Not out of duty or pity, but as if she truly belonged to him.

What neither of them knows is that the heavens have always been cruel. She was the nemesis placed into his perfect life from the beginning.

Because Anastasia is the reincarnation of the mate William lost twelve centuries ago – the same woman whose death ignited a war that nearly destroyed an entire kingdom.

And this time, fate is not letting go.

Being a female Alpha is rare, especially in a world that still doubts women in power. Every move I make is judged. Any sign of weakness would be used against me.
Love is not just love for someone like me. It is a sign of weakness.
Taking an Alpha consort feels like risking the pack my grandfather handed to me. He ruled without a mate. If he could do it without a mate, so can I.

So when fate bound me to Leo Leonidas Blackwood, my childhood friend, the one I once loved without fear, I rejected him without delay.

I chose my throne over the bond. But a mate bond does not disappear because an Alpha says no. It lingers. It pulls.

Now everyone is watching. The elders want me to have a mate. The pack wants stability. But no one asks what I want. Because loving him once broke me and choosing him again might destroy us both.

.

I bled to death on a cold hospital bed, my unborn child gone, all because I took a shift for my coworker.
Heaven granted me a second chance. I opened my eyes, sitting safely at my office desk. Before I could shake off the nightmare, Vanessa clicked her heels toward me.
"Claire, can you cover for me at the investor party tonight? It’s my anniversary with my boyfriend."
In my past life, I agreed, only to be locked in a private room by monsters and tortured to death. This time, I looked her in the eye. "No."
Vanessa was stunned. Because of my refusal, she missed the crucial meeting and was mercilessly fired by the director.
I thought I had escaped hell and saved her life too. But when I got home to my loving husband, I realized the true nightmare had just begun...

On our wedding day, she vanished wearing the gown I had bought for her.
I didn’t chase her. Instead, I went back to the operating table.
For three years, I had paid off her debts and filled the holes she left behind—enough for her to live a second life. My heart couldn't take it anymore; I had a stent implanted, though she never knew.
Three days later, I died in the hospital corridor. My ECG flatlined.
She didn’t know. She was still at a cocktail party in another city, clinking glasses with someone else.
A month later, she came back, kneeling before my tombstone in tears.
But it was all too late.

"I need an accident—one that looks fatal," I said calmly into the encrypted phone. "It's the only way to escape him."
Rumors swirl that this man—the underworld boss who controls half of Europe’s shadow economy—loves me beyond reason.
They say he defied his entire family for me. That this ruthless killer laid down his weapons just to cook me a meal.
For years, he made the world believe I was his one weakness—and even I almost believed it.
But instinct in a life-or-death moment doesn’t lie.
When bullets shattered the car window, he yanked the steering wheel on reflex—shielding my adopted sister in the passenger seat while leaving me, his wife, fully exposed to the hail of gunfire.
As I lay bleeding, desperately trying to protect our unborn child… he was busy cradling her in his arms.
While I endured everything for our future, he signed over the estate—the one he promised would be our retire place—to that lying sister.
That’s when I knew: some loves are just performances for the living.
So I gave him exactly what he wanted.
I left behind a positive pregnancy test—six weeks along—and drove straight into the deep ocean, staging the most brutal finale right before his eyes.

Princess Penelope would rather die than marry the feared Crimson Dragon King.

On the night before the wedding, she throws herself to her death.

At that exact moment, in another world, Joseline Hernandez falls from the rooftop of her school building after someone pushes her. Betrayed and exhausted from a life spent being blamed for her father's death, she dies with only one thought : revenge.

But death was not the end.

Joseline wakes up inside the body of Princess Penelope, the very princess who was supposed to become the bride of the terrifying Crimson Dragon King, Drakarys.

Desperate to return home and uncover who murdered her, Joseline searches for a way back to her world. Yet the deeper she enters the dragon kingdom, the more she realizes something is wrong. The dragons are hiding secrets. The royal court is dangerous and the Crimson King himself is nothing like the monster humans claim him to be.

When no path home appears, Joseline makes a choice :

If she must live as Penelope, then she will survive as the Crimson Dragon King's bride even if it means falling in love with the King she meant to fear.

"Aveline, a world without you means nothing to me."
The dragon's scalding blood splattered across my tombstone, melting the thick blanket of snow.
Five minutes ago, he had severed the crimson fox's head—vengeance for me.
I died at the hands of my most cherished companion, died in a carefully orchestrated betrayal. I'd wielded the full power of the Court to elevate that pitiful low-born wretch to godhood, only for him to join forces with my dear sister and plunge a blade into my heart from behind.
And the dragon war god I had scorned—the one I'd humiliated and treated as nothing more than a beast slave—defied imperial decree, razed an entire city, and severed his own life force. All for me.
I watched his dragonfire extinguish completely in the bitter cold. My soul reached out to embrace him, but passed through nothing but endless snow.
Until a blinding light pierced through my vision.
When I opened my eyes again, I found myself staring up at the familiar domed ceiling of the Celestial Hall.
I had returned to three years ago, to the Binding Ceremony that sealed my fate.
Reborn into a second chance, those vermin who climbed to power on dragon bones will finally get the hell they deserve.

I was dying — and he was loving someone else.
I left.
Now he wants me back… but will I let him?

Three days after I died, the morgue called my husband Sebastian to collect my ashes.
He was kissing another woman when he hit speaker, his voice cold and dismissive: "She's dead? Cremate her. Don't call me again."
And just like that, my body was wheeled into the cremation chamber.
When he finally showed up to collect my remains, he smashed the urn on the floor and ground every fragment of my ashes into the tile with his shoe.
"Playing dead? What a pathetic stunt," he sneered. "Tell her the anniversary of my mother's death is coming up. She'd better show up at the cemetery on her knees, or even if she really is dead, I'll scatter her ashes in the sewer myself."
But he didn't know—I truly was dead.
My soul was bound to him, forced to drift at his side as he planned a lavish wedding with his adopted sister Claire—his mother's true killer.
By the time he discovered the truth and exposed Claire at the altar, I had already vanished.
He lost his mind, racing to the ocean to search for my ashes.
Never knowing that the remains he'd crushed like garbage under his shoe—the "fake ashes" he'd dismissed as part of my act—
Were all that was left of me.

I was taking six-year-old Arabella to fit her dress for the theater's grand opening.
As we crossed the intersection, a truck suddenly lost control and T-boned our car.
When I opened my eyes again, an agonizing pain ripped through me. I opened my mouth to call out Everett's name, only to hear his hushed voice seeping through the crack in the door—
"Staging an unavoidable accident was the only way to use the emergency room as a cover for the drug trial."
"Now that Ophelia's treatment is a success, there's naturally no need for that little bastard to live."
My Arabella. She was secretly wheeled into the operating room by him, used as a human guinea pig for his mistress Delilah's daughter, who had bone cancer. Her sweet, bell-like vocal cords were cruelly carved out and transplanted into another child's throat.
In that defining moment, I realized he had never loved my daughter.
But what he didn't know—the child he just murdered with his own hands was his one and only flesh and blood.

Three years of marriage. Three pregnancies.

Every time I confirmed I was pregnant, my sister-in-law Ophelia would walk into the chapel behind the manor.

Then my in-laws would drag me to the hospital and force me to abort the healthy baby.

The night after my third miscarriage, I dragged my weakened body to follow her into the chapel.

The moment I pushed open that door, my blood ran cold.

In that instant, I finally understood why my three children had to die.

I was dragged to the stand of the MRI Memory Court by my own flesh and blood.

Their demand? To forcibly extract my kidney to keep their uremic adopted daughter alive.

A guilty verdict meant losing not just my bodily autonomy, but my freedom for the rest of my life.

Bathed in the global spotlight, my parents performed as tragic heroes, while their adopted saint cried a river of deceit.

They thought they had cornered the perfect victim, waiting for the world to send me to the slaughter.

But the moment the memory holograms ignited and reality bled through, the hunters instantly became the hunted.