3034 Book(s) Related to fated to love you novel

Dalia Bloodoath has known nothing but rejection. Branded a bad omen as the black wolf of Bloodmoon Pack, she was betrayed by her father, despised by her sister, and left motherless before she could even remember her face.
When her father trades her to the Lycan Kingdom, Dalia expects another prison—until she discovers the truth. The Lycan King himself is her fated mate.
Alaric Muskbane has ruled with steel and silence since the murder of his mother and the loss of the mate he believed he could never replace.
Hardened by grief, he refuses to accept another bond—especially with the daughter of a pack steeped in betrayal. Yet the mark on Dalia’s skin, the fire in her blood, and the prophecy she carries make her impossible to ignore.
But fate is never simple.
Shadows stir in the cursed woods. Rogues gather under a rogue king who seems to be determined to end the werewolf race as we know it.
As past lives unravel through dreams and ancient ruins, Dalia and Alaric must face the truth: they have loved and lost each other before. And if history repeats itself, she may die again–this time with more lives at stake.
Caught between deception and destiny, betrayal and forgiveness, Dalia must choose: surrender to fear, or embrace the power of the black wolf and fight for a love that defies death itself.

When I called my husband with trembling hands, clutching my cancer diagnosis, all I heard was his sweet laughter with his young, hot influencer girlfriend. Ten years of marriage, and when I needed him most, he chose betrayal.

In divorce court, I was painted as the "crazy ex-wife" while the entire internet mocked me. Everyone took their side. No one knew I was fighting for my life.

Until the day he finally learned the truth.

I remember that frost-covered train door like it was the last thing I ever saw. Because it was.
The escape spot I’d spent three years scraping together? My fiancée was sitting in it, wearing my parka. Her brother had my hiking boots on his feet. Her mother clutched the medical kit I’d carried six miles through ash-covered roads. And Caleb Frost—the ex she’d sworn was just “someone from the past”—stood in the seat that should have been mine, lifting my silver emergency flask in a toast.
While I froze out in the subzero ash storm, my lungs burning like they were filled with shards of broken glass, they turned their backs to me under the warm yellow light inside.
Then I woke up.
The calendar read May 3, 2041. Exactly one year before the Yellowstone chain eruption would turn the northern hemisphere into a frozen grave.
On the TV, experts were still downplaying the volcanic tremors, insisting there was no immediate risk to the public. My fiancée walked into the bedroom wearing one of my white shirts, carrying coffee in the blue mug she’d bought with my card. She reached for my forehead, asking if I’d had a bad dream.
None of them know I’ve already died once.
They’re still plotting how to make me pay for her brother’s failed investments, how to sneak texts to her old boyfriend, how to use me as their most obedient, most useful doormat until the world ends. I’ve sold the downtown office towers, mortgaged the lakefront house, bought the abandoned geothermal station no one wanted in the dead mountains, and signed a stack of engineering contracts they’ll never bother to read.
They still smile and thank me, tell me I’m the best fiancé in the world.
They have no idea who will be holding the key to the door, when the sky goes dark forever and the snow never stops falling.

“Smile, Natalie,” Callum whispered before he walked onstage.

So I smiled while he thanked another woman for the crisis plan I had written. I smiled when he pinned my grandmother’s sapphire brooch to her dress. I even smiled when his message came in, canceling our nineteenth appointment at the county clerk’s office.

Then I walked out with our unsigned marriage license papers in my purse and called the one CEO he hated most.

By the time Callum realized I wasn’t waiting anymore, I had already taken my name, my work, and my future back.

In Heaven, there exists an iron law: during the Ascension Ceremony, if a bride fails nine times to complete the bonding flight with her groom's Divine Cloak, her soul is deemed tainted, and she will be cast into the Abyss for seven centuries of penance.
I was once Heaven's greatest warrior, until I threw myself before the hellfire meant for Archangel Gabriel—and lost my wings forever.
I endured eight Ascension ceremonies. Each time, Gabriel found a reason to delay.
Then came the ninth. My last chance. One flight bound to his Divine Cloak, and I would soar again—my name cleared, my honor restored.
But atop the ceremonial tower, he unclasped the cloak from his own shoulders and wrapped it around Irene, the trembling Healing Angel.
"Cecilia, Irene needs this more. You're strong—you'll survive the fall."
He'd forgotten one thing: without wings, this height would kill me.
I didn't beg. I simply met his eyes—and stepped off the edge.
I woke in the arms of the Demon Lord I'd once shown mercy.
He spread ten pairs of wings that blotted out the heavens and carried me back to Heaven as his queen.
And Gabriel—that proud Archangel—knelt at my feet, tears streaming, begging me to look at him just once more.

I gave my Alpha fiancé to my stepsister.

My mother's face lit up. "You're giving Damon to Maya? Don't come crying later, Kira. That man is the most powerful Alpha alive."

I won't. Never again.

Last life, I married him. Suffocated for three years.

He wanted a perfect Luna. I showed up to the full moon gala in a mini skirt. The elite ladies circled in—*"Shameless. Like a bitch in heat."* Damon walked over, draped his jacket over my shoulders.

I thought he was protecting me.

"Must you embarrass me like this?" His voice cut like ice. "Every damn time."

That's when I knew: he loved the perfect Luna. Not me.

Then came the conservative gowns, endless etiquette training, and every time I fought back—*"Pack law, Kira. Obey."*

Until the flames took me, I swore: If I ever got another chance, I would never marry that man.

I woke the night before our engagement and pushed the contract away. "Let Maya be his perfect Luna. I just want my freedom."

But I didn't expect—

When Damon discovered the switch, the cold Alpha completely lost it.

After months of being bullied at school, things got even worse—the bullies said they wanted to come to my house.
Wanted to see what kind of family a "dog" like me came from.
I begged them, sobbing, not to do it.
Because my dad is a serial killer. My mom is a twisted murderer. And my brother is a full-blown psychopath.
If they come to my house, they will die.

Eighty-eight times.
That was how many times I had put on a white dress, or packed my ID, heading to the registry office to marry Harrison Churchill. And eighty-eight times, I ended up in an ambulance.
The first time, it was a street drive-by. A bullet tore through my shoulder just two blocks from City Hall.
The fifteenth time, a car bomb shattered three of my ribs.
The forty-second time, a steel frame plummeted from a construction site, cracking my skull.
......And this time?
The eighty-eighth time. A massive cargo container "accidentally" slipped from a crane at the docks, crushing my car.
Maybe, it’s time to say goodbye.

"Where is my son?"
My husband wouldn't look at me.
I had just come out of anesthesia. The bassinet next to my hospital bed was empty — except for a stack of cash, a christening card, and a ring pinned to the corner of the card.
The card had another woman's name in the godmother box.
That woman walked in behind my husband. She picked up the ring and slid it onto her own finger.
"He's safe, sweetheart. We've been talking about this for months."
My husband is Damiano Marchetti. He runs the family that runs this city. The woman wearing the ring is his father's young widow.
The baby on that card is my son.
For four years now I have been the woman this house pretends not to see. The wife told to use the servants' entrance. The mother of a boy who calls another woman Mommy.
Last night I asked my husband for a divorce.
He laughed in my face.
He has no idea how much that's going to cost him.

We’ve been married for almost a month, yet my Alpha keeps hiding in the study to avoid me.
He would rather give me a cheap vial of synthetic bonding pheromones than bare his fangs at me.
I thought I was just the unwanted substitute for my runaway sister, that he felt absolutely nothing for me.
I slammed the door and left, heading to the Moon Well to confide. But the moment my blood dripped in, the Alpha's voice echoed:
"I finally married her... but I was born with a curse. How do I mark her without hurting her the moment I bite down..."

On our fifth anniversary, Caspian gifted me a luxury yacht bearing my name. Everyone said I was the luckiest woman alive.
But when I finally conceived his child and prepared to share the news, his mistress sent me photos—him cradling a baby she'd given him, his eyes filled with a tenderness I'd never seen.
Five years of waiting, five years of infertility—all an elaborate lie.
He once whispered in my ear: "Even if every man in the world betrays his wife, I never will. You're my life. Without you, I can't survive."
I quietly packed, left behind my pregnancy report and all the evidence, and drove away. Three hours later, he received the call: my car exploded on the highway. No survivors.
From that day on, the most powerful man in Valen City lost his mind completely.

I saw a post on Reddit, "Urgent! How do I convince my wife to donate bone marrow to my mistress?"

I scoffed and typed back, "What a piece of shit."

Right after I hit send, my husband came home. He grasped my hand, his voice shaky: "You have leukemia... but it's okay, we found a donor."

His right eye twitched—he always did that when he lied.

Then I remembered the worst comment on that post, "Trick your wife into thinking she's the patient."

Life imitating the internet, apparently.

He wanted to harvest my bone marrow for someone else.

When I finally saw his mistress's face, my world fell apart.

I never thought his mistress would be her......

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.

After the crash, my husband, Darius, lost his ability to speak. The trauma to his cervical spine left him unable to even lift a finger.
The doctors said his only remaining way to communicate was to nod, or to shake his head.
Sitting by his hospital bed, I finally asked the question that had been eating away at me for three months.
"When the crash happened... were you on your way to see your mistress?"
Darius stared dead at me. Then, slowly, he nodded.

They left me to freeze to death in our basement freezer.

The night before prom, my foster sister Leila came crying that I'd burned her Ivy League recommendation letter. My birth parents didn't even listen to one word of explanation—they threw me into that frozen hell in forty-five below.

I beat on that door until my fingers were shredded, screamed until my throat tore apart, but all I could hear from upstairs was their laughter celebrating Leila. Even Justin—the boy I'd loved since we were kids—texted calling me a fucking psycho.

As I drew my last breath, I heard Leila's soft voice outside the door: "Rest in peace, sister."

Now I'm a ghost, watching them lose their minds when the truth comes out.

Connor Mitchell and I are the golden couple of our industry. Everyone sees him as the devoted husband, always bringing me soup when I work late into the night.

On our fifth wedding anniversary, he gave me an expensive diamond necklace and posted something sweet on Instagram. The comments were all variations of the same thing: jealousy.

I used to believe it too.

Until I cut my trip to Europe short and got into that SUV. The passenger seat was set at the wrong angle, too far forward for my height. A contact lens case fell out of the sun visor, and neither of us wears contacts.

When I had my cousin pull the dashcam footage and saw him with his arm around some petite girl getting into the car, the truth hit me. My attentive husband, the one who called me every night I was away, had been using my connections and resources to play successful mentor to a twenty-two-year-old intern.

The irony is, he thinks he's gotten away with it. He has no idea I can see right through every move he makes.

Once rot sets into a perfect marriage, no amount of perfume can hide the stench.

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.

"Knock on this door over the noise one more time, and you're dead!"
Calling the cops was useless, and I was too broke to move.
Driven practically insane, I recklessly tore open the black box from the dark web—the seller promised that if I just followed the instructions, it would "eliminate the noise at the source."
Less than half an hour later, the deafening rager upstairs completely stopped.
Three mornings later, a homicide detective pounded furiously on my door.
"The father and son upstairs are dead."

I’m the only princess of the Iron Claw Pack. My Alpha father chose three pure-blooded wolves from the Johnson family to grow up at my side. The man I choose won’t just be my mate—he’ll become the Pack’s next Alpha.
In my last life, I chose the younger twin, David, because he was always gentle and considerate.
But less than a year after our bonding ceremony, he died.
Only when our mate bond stirred again did I learn the truth: David had faked his death—because the one he loved was Emma.
When Rogues attacked, David threw away his life to save me, only to beg that if there were a next life, I would never choose him again.
When I opened my eyes, I was back on the day I had to choose my mate. This time, I grabbed a file at random.
It was David’s twin brother, Nate—my sworn enemy.

"You want a divorce?" His voice was ice, sending a chill down her spine. "You'll never get it."
For three years, Bellatrix devoted herself to Cillian Laurent—Miami’s ruthless tycoon and her indifferent husband—hoping to earn his love. But when she’s diagnosed with a life-threatening illness, she realizes the bitter truth: she was never his choice. Just a placeholder for the woman who abandoned him… and has now returned.
Determined to reclaim her life, Bellatrix demands a divorce. But the man who once ignored her now refuses to let her go. As buried secrets unravel, she discovers their twisted marriage was never what it seemed.
Can she break free from a love that was never hers?
Or will his obsession destroy them both?

Evelyn Mitchell died at the hands of betrayal, pushed off a cliff by the very people she trusted most. But fate gives her a second chance. She wakes up three months before her tragic end, armed with the truth and a heart full of vengeance.

In her past life, Evelyn was blind to deception. She lost her family, her future, and the man who loved her most—Alexander Gray, the cold and powerful heir who jumped with her into death. This time, she's done playing the fool.

Reborn as the fierce and fearless heiress of the Mitchell family, Evelyn is ready to destroy her bestie who stabbed her in the back and crush the scumbag she once loved. But when it comes to Alexander, things are different. She's not running anymore. She's chasing him.

Everyone in the capital fears Alexander's icy heart, but only Evelyn knows the fire he hides beneath. Revenge is sweet—but love might be even sweeter.

“My world is a mess; you want nothing to do with this"
“You don't have the right to decide that for me." Her chest was heaving, harsh breaths scraping the walls of her nose. “I am your wife, and I am choosing to be in your mess."
He grabbed the back of her head and pulled her closer. “This is your last chance. Once you step in, I can never let go."
"I'm not planning on it."

Jade Saint, who was switched at birth, is coerced into an arranged marriage after returning to the Sterling home. That is, until Roman Volkov – the richest and most dangerous man in the city – claims her as his bride.
Desperate to save her dying adoptive mother, she willingly enters into a contract marriage with the devil himself.
But marriage to Roman is not what she thinks it is – not the enemies lurking in the shadows. Not the dangerous world he refuses to explain, and certainly not the way his cold touch begins to feel like a promise instead of a warning.
Because the more she tries to understand him, the more she realises he didn’t choose her by accident.
And the truth behind it all may destroy her.

"Come back to me, Ivy," the man whom she used to love with all her heart said.“No, no,” Ivy shook her head and backed away from him. Her body trembled as fear consumed her whole being. He was the reason her baby was gone! He was the reason for all her suffering!

Ivy thought she was the luckiest woman in the world - she was married to the man of her dream.But that was just her illusion. On the day she received her pregnancy report, she found her husband in bed with his best friend. Before she had the chance to tell him about her pregnancy, she was forced to divorce and her family was driven to bankruptcy by that one man she loved.Since then, her life went south.
She married a governor in another country whom everyone thought was a gentleman. Everyone envied her, but no one knew he was a sadist who loved to abuse her.Five years later, the man she used to love met her by chance and begged her to come back.But would she be able to give her heart again, when all she felt toward him was fear and hatred? Knowing that he was the sole reason her life had turned to be what it was today with endless suffering?

Lior Lawson knows better than to fall for his boss.
In a world where Omegas are expected to live under the dominance of Alphas, Lior has already broken enough rules simply by working for one of the most powerful men in the nation.
Adrian Valehart is everything Lior should stay away from; a powerful Alpha, a billionaire, a prince from a family that once ruled the nation, and a married man. But one reckless mistake becomes a secret affair, and what was supposed to be nothing more than stolen nights soon becomes something neither of them knows how to walk away from.
Neither of them prepared for what happens when the Valehart family discovers the truth about Lior's true identity. Suddenly he's not simply Adrian's Omega mistress. He's the key to restoring a bloodline that has been broken for generations, and the Valeharts will do whatever it takes to make sure he fulfills his purpose. Even if that means taking away the very freedom Adrian fell in love with him for.
Lior wanted Adrian.
The Valeharts want his heirs.
And Adrian may have to choose between his family and the male Omega he can't live without.

"Men are visual creatures. Put on this sexy nightgown, lie on the bed, and trust me—he won't be able to resist!"

My best friend sent me a lace nightgown with cutouts.

I traded my usual innocent look for something different. The sheer fabric clung to my curves, revealing just enough to be tantalizing.

We'd been married for three years. The first time we made love was only a month ago.

Kian had been drunk. He was gentle as he entered me.

But now, as I shyly reached for Kian's hand in silent invitation, he coldly turned me down.

He'd rather lock himself in his study, pleasuring himself while calling out another woman's name.

His first love.

No one would have imagined that Darius would risk his life for the ordinary girl, and even lose more...
But he gained her. Enough. That is all he wanted.

Mystica comes from the royal family called Leone Clan. It was known as the most outstanding clan among fairies' who ruled the Sylph kingdom for centuries.
Before she lost her memories, she was declared to sit on her mother's throne and take over the leadership of their clan to continue their legacy and carry the responsibilities to take care of all the creatures that belong to Sylph kingdom be it on the inside or from the outside.

Darius, who was born from the most renowned clan of dragons, is known as the highest and superior type among royal bloodlines.
Wherever he goes, a lot of female dragons would always there surround him, luring him to sleep with them. Be it at their Cage Empire or the Midnight Escape Club exclusively for royal-blooded dragons, aroused smells from drakainas always lingered around him but he wasn't interested. Not even an ounce of arousal he felt inside.
When it comes to finding their fated mates, dragons are the most sensitive creature in the Mystical Realm. A single night of desire meant forever to them. It wasn't called a hopeless romantic but called unfairness. Unlike werewolves, they couldn't reject the very first person that they slept with for the very first time because the dragon's mark would naturally appear after having a steamy session be it a drakaina or different types of shifters. In this case, choices are not negotiable rather the traditional union has to be made after that therefore, he always shows his aloofness and indifference towards any female creatures and the woman in front of him was no exception...
Is that true?

On the day of her wedding, 18-year-old Evelyn Monroe's life comes to a tragic end under mysterious circumstances. However, fate grants her an extraordinary second chance—she awakens in her 16-year-old self, two years before her death. Armed with memories of betrayal and heartbreak, Evelyn is determined to rewrite her destiny. She resolves to break off the toxic engagement that once led to her demise, reclaim her autonomy, and navigate the treacherous waters of high school alliances. Along the way, she encounters Liam Bennett, a brooding and enigmatic classmate with secrets of his own. As Evelyn and Liam's paths intertwine, she faces a dilemma: can she trust this mysterious figure, or is he part of the conspiracy that led to her fatal wedding day?

Excerpt
I fixed my gaze on his crimson red lips, dying to have a taste of them, my mind overwhelmed with lust as I watched water droplets drip from his sexy black locks of hair, down to his pale face. His wet shirt hugged his body in all the right places highlighting his abs and biceps.
Frustrated, I stood on my tiptoes and brought my lips to his, refusing to deny the feelings I harbored for Carlisle anymore. Just as our lips were about to crash, he placed his index finger on my lips.
"You shouldn't..." He said, killing the mood.
"But why?"
"You don't know what you're getting into with me Peyton, you don't know me or what I'm capable of." He turned to leave, but I followed, determined to get an answer.
"Then show me." I stood in front of him, too involved to back out now.

I gave him three years of silent devotion behind a mask I never wanted to wear. I made a wager for our bond—he paid me off like a mistress.
"Chloe's back," Zane said coldly. "It's over."
I laughed, poured wine on his face, and walked away from the only love I'd ever known.
"What now?" my best friend asked.
I smiled. "The real me returns."
But fate wasn't finished yet.
That same night, Caesar Conrad—the Alpha every wolf feared—opened his car door and whispered, "Get in."
Our gazes collided. The bond awakened. No games. No pretending. Just raw, unstoppable power.
"Don't regret this," he warned, lips brushing mine.
But I didn't.
Because the mate I'd been chasing never saw me.
And the one who did?
He's ready to burn the world for me.

Aston Whitmore thought I loved him. Truth is, his mother bought a year of my life for a million dollars.
He thought those 3 AM study sessions were about redemption and romance across class lines. He didn't know I was never watching his pretty face—I was watching the countdown to my mother's kidney transplant payment.
I froze this trust fund prince's credit cards, cut his internet, and nailed him to that desk until his eyes went bloodshot cramming calculus.
When he turned into a guard dog in front of the whole cafeteria, publicly staking his claim on me, all I was calculating was the date that final payment would clear.
Today, he burst through the mansion door clutching his Yale acceptance letter, ready to give me some grand confession.
I was already thirty thousand feet up on a flight to Zurich, staring at that million-dollar deposit notification, face blank as I pulled out the SIM card, snapped it in half, and tossed it in the trash.
No note. No goodbye.
Just one notarized Service Completion Certificate sitting on that empty desk. Terms fulfilled. Transaction closed.

I spent seven years being Preston Maddox's personal errand girl.

Did his homework, took his father's belt for him, cut off every friend I had because he said he didn't like me talking to other guys.

I told myself that if I was good enough, patient enough, he'd eventually see me.

Then came the school's centennial gala. In front of everyone, he locked me, a girl with severe aquaphobia, inside a water tank filled to the brim with ice-cold water, so Vanessa Sinclair could have a pretty backdrop for her ballet number.

The audience roared. He watched Vanessa take her bow with this soft, adoring smile on his face. The only time he glanced at me was when he noticed I'd made a mess, and all he did was wrinkle his nose.

The water rose over my head, and something in me finally understood.

To Preston Maddox, I wasn't even worth as much as a dog.

If a dog was drowning, its owner would at least care.

Me? I just disgusted him.

My husband, Callum, never loved me. On our wedding night, he panted another woman’s name.
For five years, I endured a cold, loveless marriage. The only reason I held on was my daughter, Tessa.
But on the eve of her fourth birthday, Callum went behind my back and personally delivered her to his mistress Seraphina's underground lab.
The moment my daughter was drained of her blood and her heart stopped beating on that operating table, he was drinking champagne with Seraphina to celebrate their success.
From the moment I walked out of the crematorium holding Tessa’s freezing urn, the submissive wife I used to be died.

The day I found out I was dying, Alpha Griffon Knight broke up with me. Our relationship was a contract, but when his true love came back, he didn’t need me anymore. He canceled our contract and told me to get lost. I thought that after five years, his frozen heart would thaw for me. How wrong I was. So I packed my things and left. Without telling him… I only had three months left to live.

Griffon Knight’s private jet landed at the airport at 7:00 p.m., just as the sun was starting to set, vivid orange and red giving way to the bright light of the moon. Within a half hour of his arrival, he requested that I be brought to his downtown penthouse.

For three years, I was nothing but an invisible wife. While my billionaire husband, James, showered his mistress with millions, I watched my family get driven to ruin.

Heartbroken, I left the signed divorce papers and fled. But the ultimate nightmare came in a foreign hospital: doctors told me my newborn daughter had died at birth. My world went dark.

Six years later, I returned. Not as a pathetic housewife, but as a world-renowned medical genius, flanked by my two brilliant twin sons.

Then, the sickening truth unraveled. My daughter wasn't dead. She was stolen, locked in the Martin mansion, and abused into autism by James's mistress. Now, the mistress wants me dead, while James is suddenly desperate to trap me by his side, demanding a second chance.

This time, I won't run. The stolen years, the torture of my daughter, and the ruin of my family—I’m going to make you pay it all back, with interest.

I was a penniless nobody looked down upon by everyone. My wife was bullied along with me because of that. People treated us like beggars, bullying us as they pleased, forcing me to lick their toes, and making me eat with dogs.
Then one day, a stranger came to me and said, "Your father left you a fortune of five hundred billion dollars..."

For five years, Celia was nothing more than Alpha king’s secret lover, wearing her disliked dress and perfume, just because he like it on her.
—until She overheard the truth: “She’s just a replacement. A gold digger.”
"I chose her, just becuase she seems like you. She's your Substitute. Never deserved be a luna."
Shattered, she walks away, vowing never to look back.
But then—her instincts sharpen, her senses heighten, and Soren’s scent clings to her skin.
...Mate.
Impossible. A wolfless girl like her could never be the Alpha King’s fated mate… right?
*
On the first day she left, he wasn’t worried. “She’ll come back.”
“Don’t bother with it. She was just a substitute lover. A worthless gold digger.”
But after a week… a month… three months… his panic set in.
“Lock down the entire pack—find her at all costs…
—Find my Luna!”

They killed her together.

Her husband, Roman, sold her body to monsters and called it a wedding gift.

Her sister, Elsa, strapped a bomb to her chest and called it mercy.

Tasha James died believing love had a price. She paid it in full.

Then she opens her eyes, and it's one year before any of it happened.

No scars. No bomb. No betrayal, not yet.
Just two people who still think she's naïve enough to love them again.

She isn't.

This time, Tasha is fire wrapped in silk, smiling while she rewrites her own fate, one calculated move at a time. She'll kiss the rival she once mocked, the boy who died trying to save her in another life. She'll let her enemies believe they've already won.

Then she'll watch them choke on the ashes of their own cruelty.

He loved her first.

He'll protect her now.

And together, they'll burn down the world that broke her.

In a city where magic and darkness intertwine with ancient secrets and futuristic technology, two siblings marked by a hidden past seek redemption. Izabella, a young witch with a deep connection to the moon, and Brandon, a banished wizard with uncontrollable power, become entangled in a conspiracy that threatens to destroy their world. The arrival of an enigmatic vampire, Lord Lucien, unleashes a forbidden passion between him and Izabella—a desire that defies old alliances and ignites a dangerous game of seduction. As forces of night and light clash in an epic battle, an ancient prophecy called "Miss Atomic Bomb" reveals that only the union of love and sacrifice can save their destiny. Amid secrets, betrayals, and forbidden love, the protagonists must confront their own demons to prevent total destruction from consuming Luminara.

I clicked the anonymous link, and my world shattered. There was my perfect fiancé, in a live stream, entangled with the woman who was supposed to be my maid of honor—my best friend.
He was the hero who donated his bone marrow to save my life. Now, he was defiling our future marriage bed in the most vile betrayal. I thought this was their twisted idea of a game, until I dug deeper and uncovered the truth: our "fateful" connection three years ago was nothing but a calculated lie.
My savior, my soulmate, the father of my child... it was all a facade. Now, I've vanished into the night, carrying a secret they know nothing about—his child. Their little show was just the beginning.
My revenge? It's just getting started.

When my husband pushed the divorce papers in front of me for the hundredth time, demanding I sacrifice myself for my sister, I didn't cry or make a scene. I simply signed my name, willingly giving up the man I'd loved for eight years to Ivy.

A few days later, Ivy got drunk and drove into a state senator's only son during a street race, leaving him paralyzed from the waist down. Once again, I stepped forward to take the blame and bear all the consequences.
When they later suggested I donate my kidney to Ivy, I readily agreed.

Mom and Dad said I'd finally grown into a mature and responsible sister.

Even my cold husband stood by my hospital bed and, for the first time in so long, gently stroked my cheek. He whispered, "Don't be afraid. The surgery will be a success. When you recover, we'll go traveling."

But he didn't know that whether the surgery succeeded or not, I wouldn't be going anywhere with him.

Because I was already terminally ill, with little time left.

“I, alpha Ri Dylan, reject you as my mate, Mona Ryan. I have affairs with many women, Mona. Stronger women who are very different from you, I am not a one-mate kind of guy, and believe me when I say this; this rejection will favor you more than it will me because I am not the wolf you would want to be mated with.”

On her 18th birthday, Omega Mona felt the mate pull and was encouraged by her parents to go and meet her mate for the first time. Upon meeting him in the forest, he was devastated to hear that her mate was alpha Ri Dylan of the Lycan pack, the alpha that most wolves feared and hated. She then ran away and didn't say a word to him because of her surprise and disappointment.

“He's no good to reckon with, he's dangerous, he's not trustworthy, and he's the last person in this world you should have any business with.”
Mona has been warned severally about Ri Dylan. What will she do when finding that the goddess has arranged this big, bad, and dreaded alpha who rejected her to be her fated mate?

"Nathan," the attractive redhead gasped as the man raked his fingers through her long hair, his fingers gripped at her hips while he took her savagely from behind "Fuck me harder," she begged "I want you..."
Red hair, slender figure, and light makeup - these have always been Nathan's demands for Freya, asking her to dye her hair red, telling her to lose weight, and suggesting how to wear her makeup.
Closing the video on her phone, Freya Wilson reread the text on the email to which the footage was attached:
'Before you get married, you should watch this video,'

What would you do if you received the erotic video involving your soon-to-be husband and other women before your wedding?

In a bold move, Freya chose to reject her ex at the wedding and then leave the pack, even though the cost is becoming a rogue.

When Freya was taken in and offered sanctuary by the Highland Pack, thanks to her dear friend Sienna, she believed her life was finally on an upswing.

Little did Freya know that the Alpha of the Pack, Rufus Crimson was her mate. But there is one small issue, her best friend Sienna is the daughter of Freya's fated mate!

Will Rufus accept Freya as his mate, her being the same age as his daughter? Or will they have to reject each other?

"Mr. Grimwald, everything must be done in moderation!"

Penelope had never imagined that a careless remark would lead to her being swept into a wealthy family as a substitute bride.

Faced with a tyrannical devil who preyed on the weak, Penelope found herself trapped in countless situations—pressed against walls, pinned to the bed, her petite waist aching each night.

Fine, she thought. Fulfilling her duties as his temporary wife was part of the arrangement. But once the real fiancée returned, she planned to gather the fragments of her heart and leave quietly, pretending it had all meant nothing.

But who could have predicted that the domineering man would launch a global manhunt for her, only to handcuff her and throw her back onto the bed, declaring his cruel decree: "Woman, your term as a substitute bride lasts a lifetime!"

"Please, no—stop!" I begged, but Alexander just snarled, pinning my wrists above my head as he rammed his throbbing cock into my slick, unwilling pussy, stretching me wide with brutal force. "Fuck, you're so tight, you dirty little whore—take every thick inch!"

I'm Nora Frost—wait, Nora Traynor—sold like a cheap commodity by my greedy parents for $100 million to Alexander Claflin, Kingsley City's savage billionaire beast. Post-wedding, he uncovered my secret pregnancy and detonated: labeling me a cum-slut, and snarling demands to slaughter the "bastard spawn" in my womb.

The bombshell? That baby was his—conceived in our filthy, passion-fueled one-night fuckfest. He melted, worshipping me with desperate love, vowing an eternal family... until a car crash erased only me from his memory—every trace of Nora, our child, our love—while he recalled everyone else. Cue his manipulative ex, Vivian Brooks, slinking in like a venomous snake.

And I caught them mid-fuck: "Oh fuck, Alexander, pound me harder—deeper!" she wailed, "Yes! Fill me up, baby—make me scream!" "FUCK YES! I'M CUMMING!" she shrieked, his roaring climax spilling into her as they collapsed in tangled ecstasy.

Devastated, I fled. Five years later, I return with our son—a mini-Alexander, with piercing green eyes and dark hair. When he spots the boy, realization dawns: this isn't simple. As buried truths erupt and Alexander hunts me with obsessive fury, one scorching question ignites: Will our rekindled fire heal us... or destroy everything?