248 Book(s) Related to cha eun-woo

In my previous life, when the extreme cold apocalypse arrived, I was drained of all value and heartlessly kicked into an ice pit by my ex-girlfriend.

When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the time before the apocalypse erupted!

On my phone screen, my girlfriend was still arrogantly issuing ultimatums: "If you don't deliver that eight-thousand-dollar Chanel bag to me today, don't even think about touching me ever again!"

I sneered coldly, decisively blocking this gold-digger who was prepared to devour me alive on all platforms. Then I immediately unlocked the seven-million-dollar trust fund my grandfather had left me and went on a shopping spree for the city's top-tier extreme survival supplies!

A few hours later, an unprecedented extreme polar vortex swept across North America.

When my ex-girlfriend and street thugs frantically pounded on my half-meter-thick reinforced steel blast door, what greeted them wasn't just the aroma of fireplace-grilled steak, but also me and my hardcore parents holding heavy firearms.

To avenge his beloved, my husband locked me—pregnant—in a dog cage and sank it into the icy lake outside our house.
"Wendy spent ten minutes in the water. You'll stay in there for two days."
I screamed and pleaded, "I'm not lying! I really am pregnant! Please!"
But he towered over me, his eyes full of disgust. "You'll say anything to avoid punishment—even a lie like this?"
As the iron cage sank, the freezing water swallowed me—and took the unborn child with it.
Two days later, he had the cage hauled up, waiting for me to beg Wendy for forgiveness.
But all that was left inside was a curled, lifeless body, my dress soaked in vivid red.
I hovered above, watching coldly as he clung to my corpse, howling like a madman.
Eric, why are you crying?
Isn't this what you wanted?

In my previous life, an extreme cold apocalypse descended.

I risked my life nine times over to evolve into a high-tier Ice Plains Wolf, and just to find a piece of meat to keep my fiancée alive, I frantically tore apart wild beasts in the snow. Yet I was betrayed by her and her lover—they cut out my heart with an ice blade!

When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn half a month before the apocalypse!

Time was running out. To awaken the highest tier of beast-human form, I needed an enormous amount of meat to provide energy.

Sports cars? Ocean-view villas? Billions in assets? I wanted none of it!

I immediately dumped my manipulative fiancée, liquidated all my assets into cash, bought a fully enclosed fortified meat processing plant, and frantically stockpiled hundreds of thousands of tons of high-calorie raw meat!

The extreme cold arrived as expected, turning the entire city into a frozen hellscape.

The scumbag pair who betrayed me in my previous life now knelt outside my impregnable airlock door, crying pitifully and begging me for scraps.

I stepped out of my fortress and looked down at them with claws sharp enough to tear through steel:

"Want meat? Go to hell and eat dirt!"

Everyone knows my fiancé, Alex, is the kind of madman who would call off a billion-dollar merger just for me.
For years, he convinced the world I was his one and only, risking the wrath of the board just to keep me by his side.
But that kind of devotion is mostly for show.
In reality, he already had a legal wife—and a baby on the way, carrying his blood.
When I learned the truth, I went straight to my best friend.
"Maya, help me stage a car accident. One where the body can't be identified," I said calmly. "It's the only way I can truly escape Alex."
The night I disappeared, he spent hours kneeling by the burned-out wreck.
He destroyed a high-profile marriage alliance, drove his pregnant wife to madness, and became a complete wreck himself.
But when he finally found me—
He realized I didn't love him anymore.

I’m in the final stages of stomach cancer. My son just passed away yesterday.
At his funeral, my ex-husband barged in, pointed at our son’s headstone, and accused me of doing anything for attention—even putting on a show like this.
He told me to get lost, to stay far away from the woman he really loves.
So I did exactly as he wanted.
I took my son’s ashes and disappeared into the endless sea.
But now, when I’m truly at death’s door, that same man who once hated me with everything he had is tearing the hospital apart, desperate to save me.
Don’t bother, Lucian.
If there’s a next life, let’s never meet again.

At the celebration party, everyone was egging them on.
To kiss ass with the so-called "investor's daughter," James, started playing some flirty card game with Vivian right in front of me, feeding her chips and making out.
I stood in the corner holding his jacket like some pathetic coat-check girl.
When I confronted him, James looked pissed. "Sophie, it's just an act! Vivian's got the company by the balls—don't be so damn difficult!"
I laughed.
He had no idea that the "Vivian" he was desperately sucking up to was nothing but a fraud riding someone else's coattails.
And the real person holding his fate, the one who'd greenlit his precious S-tier project? That was me—the wife he called "completely useless."
The day after our divorce, I pulled the plug on all of James's funding.
He went ballistic trying to meet with the mysterious investor. When the doors opened, I was sitting at the head of the table. Right in front of him, I fed that S-tier project proposal into the shredder:
"James, this deal? I'm out."

When I was rushed to the ER with food poisoning, I heard the doctor shout, "We need to pump her stomach, now!"
But my mother, Catherine, calmly stopped the doctor's hand.
"No hurry," she said coldly. "Give her a sedative first."
My brother Austin panicked. "Mom! If you don't detox her, she could die!"
But my mother's voice was ruthless, low and sharp:
"If she dies, she dies. As long as her uterus is still warm, that's all that matters."
"Did you forget our plan? Sarah's transplant surgery is scheduled for tomorrow. If Elena wakes up now, what if she runs away?"
"Our priority is keeping her uterus safe for Sarah—not saving her life."
In that moment, the burn in my stomach was nothing compared to the chill in my heart.
I forced my eyes open and saw my brother—the one who'd always protected me—hesitate for a moment, then slowly let go of my hand.
"...Okay. You're right, Mom. Saving Sarah comes first."
The moment I closed my eyes, I made a decision: If I survived, this life would never belong to this family again.

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

I was driving my dad's luxury car to pick up a friend when his secretary stopped me on the spot.
She mistook me for the lover who had sex with my dad in his office.
So she used car theft as an excuse to drag me into the basement, beat me up, and took nude photos of me.
When my dad found out, he asked me to apologize to her.
That's when I realized that in his eyes, his reputation mattered more than his own daughter.
If that's the case, he doesn't need to be the figurehead CEO anymore.

The late night after my boyfriend left for his business trip, I received a strange call.
"Fresh delivery, hurry down to get it. If you wait too long, your meat will be picked clean."
I stubbed my toe and winced, telling him to just leave it outside my apartment door.
He hesitated but agreed.
Less than ten minutes later, my phone rang again. His voice was impatient, urging me to come down immediately.
I was about to respond when a cold sweat broke out on my back.
Outside the door was a busy main road—where were the raccoons?
And why was he waiting for me downstairs for ten minutes?
What sent chills down my spine was...
I suddenly remembered that I hadn't ordered any fresh groceries this week.
So who was the man standing downstairs, using excuses to trick me into coming down?

On the first day of the zombie outbreak, my two roommates and I made a crazy decision: before the banking system crashed, we'd take out dozens of online loans and high-limit credit cards!
"Since it's the end of the world, who the hell cares about credit scores? Borrow money! Buy out the supermarket! We don't have to pay it back anyway!"
We smashed through walls, welded the security door shut, and used millions of dollars worth of supplies to build a makeshift shelter . We thought we could survive this catastrophe.
Until that day, in a moment of madness, I rescued a pregnant stranger right under the zombies' noses.
I forgot that in the apocalypse, the smell of amniotic fluid and blood is the ultimate death warrant that attracts monsters from the entire city…

My wife is the city's renowned "Community Angel." She donates every single cent of her high salary to the poor, all to buy herself a saintly reputation.
Meanwhile, as her husband, I spend my days rolling beneath cars in a factory, covered in grease, juggling four credit cards just to keep our large family afloat.
My parents-in-law survive on the expensive, imported life-saving meds I pay for, yet they constantly mock me for being a powerless nobody;
My own children attend private schools on my dime, only to look at me with disgust and call me an embarrassment;
And my wife? Dressed in her high-end couture, she looks down at me and condescendingly urges, "For the sake of the poor children, why don't you get another part-time job and just endure it a little longer?"
Looking at this den of parasites sucking the life out of me, a sudden, overwhelming wave of disgust washed over me.
I didn't argue. I silently put away my overdue bills, packed my bags, and completely vanished from this twisted household.
Later, at the highly anticipated Annual Charity Gala, in front of the entire city, I presented her with an ultimate "gift"—

As the zombie with half its face rotten lunged at my throat, an utterly absurd thought popped into my head. Instinctively, I raised the supermarket barcode scanner in my hand and aimed it at its face.

"Beep—Target: Level 1 Mutant Infected Person. Estimated Recovery Value: Equivalent to half a bottle of mineral water."

Who would have thought that in this cannibalistic apocalypse, these bloodthirsty monsters who feel no pain and only know how to kill could actually be forcibly converted into cash by the system?!

From that day on, I completely trampled the laws of this broken world under my feet.

While others were killing each other in the ruins for half a piece of moldy bread, I was comfortably sitting in my "Red Lion" supermarket, doing big business with a zombie whose head I had smashed in half.

Two bags of flour, I traded for a box of antibiotics; three boxes of sausages, and it led a zombie squad to the police station to empty my armory. As long as I can afford it, these tireless monsters are my most loyal laborers.

A vicious thug drove a bulldozer and smashed through my wall, threatening to chop up the men and take the women away. I didn't even draw my gun; I just yelled at the door, "Kill these scumbags, and all twenty kilograms of bacon are yours!" The next second, an army of zombies burst through the window and tore the thugs to pieces in an instant.

The arrogant leader of the survivor base, driving five hundred refugees to act as human shields, attempted to use moral blackmail to force me to hand over supplies? I sneered and sounded the air raid siren, awakening the horde of zombies throughout the city. I sat in front of the monitor, sipping hot tea, watching her, who was once so invincible, be completely swallowed by the monsters, as if watching a play.

Trying to take over my territory? First, ask my paid zombie bodyguards outside if they'll allow it!

Through a crazy "equivalent exchange" strategy, I transformed a run-down supermarket into an impregnable steel fortress that even regular troops couldn't break into.

Until that day, the military defenses completely collapsed. Seven four-meter-tall, city-destroying "tyrants" led a super horde of 150,000 zombies to the city's gates! With only sixty seconds left on the countdown to the tactical nuclear missile, the arrogant military commander, his eyes red with tears, begged me to intervene and save the city.

I was trapped underground by seven tyrants, chewing on the last piece of chocolate my zombie underling had left me before he died, and pressed the system's "Ultimate Equivalence".

The system asked me if I was willing to trade my life for absolute control over 150,000 mutants in the entire city.

I smiled and said, "Deal."

When the white light of the nuclear explosion dissipated, and the entire city was reduced to ruins, everyone assumed I was gone without a trace. But I, leaning against the intact rooftop of the fortress, looked down at the tyrant who humbly submitted to me, my eyes gleaming with a dark golden light.

In this lawless hell, my rules are the only ironclad law!

Just because my face was severely burned in the fire, a woman pointed her finger at me, screaming and falsely accusing me of molesting her son to the whole society.
She incited online violence, ruining my livelihood; she distorted the truth, bringing in corrupt police officers who tortured me to the point of near death.
She thought she could extort some unexpected money.
But she had no idea that my severe burns were because I saved the governor in the fire!

At the family dinner, a Wall Street rising star flaunted his power in front of me, boasting that he was the chief agent of the "Godfather of the Underworld."
My ex-wife's family fawned over me like dogs, pointing their fingers at me and taunting, "You spineless, gigolo trash, you're not even worthy to carry Mr. Victor's shoes!"
Victor, even more smug, turned on speakerphone, trying to use my privileges to curry favor with my wife.
I stood silently in the corner, coldly pressing a blood-red command: [Permanently Delete Account].
The next second, the system's cold pronouncement came through his phone: "Warning, you have overstepped your authority and have been banned across the entire network!"
The room fell silent instantly.
They had no idea that I was the true Godfather, the one who controlled a multi-billion dollar empire and ruled the Western underworld!

Seven years ago, my wife and son committed perjury in court, conspiring to send me to a high-security prison, all so they could elope with that fraudster.
Seven years later, I was released.
My ex-wife, with her son, arrogantly tossed a business card onto my faded work clothes:
"Go kowtow to my new husband and apologize, and I'll give you a waiter's job."
Little did she know that just hours later, at a top-tier financial summit across America, her seemingly untouchable new husband was kneeling at my feet like a dog.
And her proud multi-billion dollar empire was nothing more than garbage I could crush with a flick of my finger.

In their eyes, my wife Emma—an Ivy League tenured professor in biological sciences—is ruthless, rational, and obsessively clean.
For seven years, even when she washed her hands, she would only ever touch the right-side sink—hers.
Until that night at 3 a.m., when I pulled a strand of sandy-golden short curl—hair that belonged to neither of us—out of my men’s shower loofah.
And around the neck of a pre-med student named Lucas, I saw the antique silver cross my dying father left in my hands.
When I confronted her, my always-icy wife protected the little homewrecker, slapped me across the face, and called me a jealous, controlling chauvinist.
She thought I’d swallow it like a coward.
But she forgot: as a top cardiothoracic chief, the thing I do best is cutting out tumors.

A zombie outbreak occurred, and my brother and I were both reborn ten minutes before the disaster struck.
This time, he seized the initiative, stealing the two high-level god-tier abilities, [Flame] and [Hardening], and casually pushed me out of the security door, locking me in the zombie-infested corridor.
Through the security door, he arrogantly declared, "In my past life, you always stood in front of me; in this life, I'll take the mark of survival."
In his eyes, the [Tracking] and [Preset] abilities the system assigned me were nothing but useless pieces of paper.
He thought I would die a horde of zombies.
But he didn't know that in the hands of a top hunter, seemingly useless skills could weave a hellish web that made life unbearable and death unthinkable.

Five years ago, on our wedding day, my fiancée Vivian was in the bridal suite fucking my best man.
Five years later, I returned to New York with my wife—the most powerful Mafia matriarch in Naples. At Atelier Milano, Brandon, the same "best man" who betrayed me, fawned over my custom-tailored suit, groveling to the staff about how desperately he wanted to meet the legendary Mr. Salvatore.
He had no idea...
The man he'd once written off as a pathetic loser was the very person he was now begging to impress.

Before the apocalypse hit, my ex-girlfriend called me, laughing like a maniac: "Jack, you pathetic loser—still playing that stupid farming game? Gonna whack zombies with a hoe? Open the door right now, get on your knees, and beg us, and maybe we'll throw you some table scraps."
I listened to the faint scrape of a tactical knife being drawn on the other end of the line, and silently glanced at my computer screen—at the maxed-out Greenfield Manor game, with its gold cap glowing at [999,999,999] .
"You misheard." I dropped my voice, lacing it with just the right amount of embarrassment. "I was checking the weather forecast."
The other end erupted in unrestrained laughter: "Then forecast this—how you're gonna die today!"
I hung up without changing my expression, flipped open the system, and spent a million on the [Absolute Defense Shield] —then brought out a steaming plate of roasted meat.
Forecast?
I forecast that tonight, you'll be gnawed down to bare bones by zombies.

To help his life-saving benefactor, he personally pressed a pregnant me on the operating table to draw bone marrow.
I cried and begged him, "James, I'm pregnant. It's your child. Don't do this to me..."
But he had a look of disgust in his eyes. "Elizabeth, you'd lie about something like that just to get out of helping Mandy?"
Until there was a river of blood in the operating room and that unformed child turned into a pool of bloody water, he finally panicked.
Later, when he knew that the person who saved him in the fire ten years ago was actually me, he held my ashes and knelt outside the operating room for a full three days.

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.

On our sixth anniversary, instead of a gift, my husband Liam video-called me while holding his first love, Sophia.
On screen, that woman proudly waved a positive pregnancy test while Liam sneered at me: "Sophia got pregnant on the first try. Proves your body's the problem, not mine!"
Clutching my own newly confirmed pregnancy report, my heart turned to ice. I decided to file for divorce.
But at the celebratory party Liam threw for Sophia, I was pushed to the ground—blood staining my dress.
When I begged for help, Liam coldly looked away: "Stop faking. It's just period cramps. Don't ruin the party."

My stepsister and I tumbled down the stairs together. As someone with a blood clotting disorder, my spleen ruptured—I was bleeding internally, desperate for surgery to stop it.
But my mother—the renowned chief of surgery—pulled every specialist from the ER. To consult on my stepsister's condition.
All she had was a sprained ankle. Not even a scratch. Yet mom insisted on running every test in the book. And me? Left alone on that cold floor, bleeding out, half my body already soaked in blood.
I clutched at her pants, begging her to save me. But she kicked my hand away and looked at me with pure disgust.
"Lily, are you really so desperate for a man's attention that you'd pull a cheap stunt like this? Your sister's foot is swollen—and you have the nerve to fake your death here?"
In the end, I died alone in a corner of that ignored ER.
But when they wheeled my cold body out of the morgue—and they finally learned about my clotting disorder—
That mother who claimed to hate me completely lost her mind.

My brother was jealous after I won a $50 million lottery jackpot, so he tricked me into believing an extreme ice-age apocalypse was coming.
Because I trusted him, I spent every last dollar my parents and I had—fortifying the house and stockpiling supplies.
Two weeks later, he told me that there was no coming apocalypse. It had all been a lie.
Just when I was drowning in despair, hail started falling in the middle of summer.
The deep freeze apocalypse had really begun.

After accidentally traveling to the post-apocalyptic wasteland, I treated the human leader as a brother, continuously supplying him with modern resources.

Who knew he would conspire with the beastman chieftain to kill me, just to prevent me from rescuing others.

But what he didn't know was that I could travel back to the modern world.

While those two leaders of the wasteland thought themselves invincible...

I healed my wounds, and returned to the wasteland with military hardware and food, storming back to their base!

You want my life?

Then pay for it with your own!

At the dinner party, Alexander had his arm around my waist, chatting and laughing with clients in German.
I was about to tell him the happy news that I was pregnant.
He was tender and affectionate in front of me, kissing my cheek from time to time.
But they didn't know my German was fluent enough to understand every dirty detail.
Like right now, I heard him bragging to the client about how wild things got last night with his stepsister Lillian.

I'm a blind girl, and I've always been close with the old lady living next door.
One day, I caught the smell of blood coming from her apartment.
Worried something had happened to her, I pushed her door open—and instantly realized my mistake.
I had walked right into a murder scene.
The killer was still there.
I had to take a chance.
Betting that my pale, sightless eyes could fool those blood-crazed ones.
I stepped into the blood-soaked room, smiled toward where the body lay, and called out,
"Ma'am, the store has oranges on sale—I brought some over for you..."

When the apocalyptic red rain fell, my brother and I both awakened spatial abilities.

He awakened a space as vast as a mansion and was hailed by the entire family as their savior.

While I only awakened a "suitcase" and was ruthlessly drained of all my assets by my parents to support my brother, then kicked out of the house.

They mocked me cruelly: "We don't keep deadweights. Go wait for death in the 70-degree furnace outside!"

What they didn't know was that my brother's space had no preservation function—his stockpile of premium ingredients would soon rot into a pile of maggot-infested meat.

But my suitcase had upgrade attributes!

While they fought each other over a sip of putrid green water in the 200-degree hellscape,

I sat in the "Eden" I had created, watching herds of cattle and sheep, drinking ice-cold fresh milk.

My fiancé accused me of not caring about family.
To appease him, I planned a family vacation.
But the night before we left, he informed me that he'd given my first-class seat to his childhood sweetheart.
And me? He stuck me in coach on a flight flagged for possible terror threats.
Everyone in his family thought I should just go along with it.
That was the moment I woke up.
I tore up the itinerary and booked myself a trip to Hawaii instead.
Then I turned off my phone and let them sweat over the hotel bill.
It wasn't until their reservation got canceled that they finally started to panic.

My fiancée accused me of not caring about family.
To make it up to her, I planned a luxury vacation for all of us.
But the night before we left, she told me she'd given my first-class seat to her childhood best friend.
Instead, she booked me a seat in economy—on a flight with a recent terror threat advisory.
The whole family thought I should just go along with it.
That's when I finally woke up.
I tore up the itinerary and rerouted to Hawaii instead.
I turned off my phone, leaving them to deal with the $20,000 bill.
It wasn't until their hotel reservations got canceled that they started to panic.

"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 my first day as an intern at the zoo, the old director assigned us animals to care for.
In my previous life, my classmate Jack chose the easy-to-care-for African elephant, while I was forced to take on the brutal Siberian tiger.
A month later, the apocalypse struck, and the Siberian tiger successfully evolved, leading me to escape the encirclement.
Jack's elephant, however, couldn't outrun the mutated species and was torn to pieces. Driven
by jealousy, the surviving Jack incited a mob to brutally beat me and the giant tiger to death, dismembering and cannibalizing us.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day the animals were assigned.
Jack had already taken the Siberian tiger, pushing the elephant to me, and I knew he had also been reborn.
But what he didn't know was that the Siberian tiger he had devoured was also reborn with me.

Sera dedicated her everything to caring for Callum Weston- her husband- only to hear him say that marrying her was doing charity for the needy as he held the hand of another woman.

Given another chance to wake up 10 years into the past, Sera chooses to focus on choosing herself, but the past continues to haunt her.
The last thing Sera heard before she died was her husband on the phone telling someone to come and clear her body from his property.

This time, she is not here to love him.

She is here to ruin him.

The one variable in her plan is the cold-eyed man who keeps finding her in all of the wrong places.
And why does he take pleasure in her slapping Callum?

"Why can’t you just leave me alone?" Valentina snarled, breath hitching as she shoved against the bark of the tree behind her.
He stepped closer, eyes glowing with an untamed hunger. In one swift, possessive motion, he pinned her hands above her head, his lips grazing the pulse at her neck—dangerously close to the spot only a mate should touch.
“Because, little wolf,” he whispered, his voice dark velvet against her skin, “you belong to me—and I’m done pretending otherwise.”


Stabbed by the man she once loved and betrayed by the friend she trusted most, Valentina was reborn in the ashes of heartbreak. No longer the obedient luna of the Shadow Crust pack, she rises from the shadows to reclaim her life—and her power.
But home is no longer safe. Her pack is in ruins. Her father? Bewitched by a mysterious woman named Carmella. And fate? Cruel, as always. Because waiting for her in the heart of the storm is the man she should never desire—Andres Donovan, the cold and dangerously obsessive Lycan King… and her second-chance mate.
He watches her with eyes full of secrets, speaks in riddles that echo of a past she can’t remember, and touches her like he’s been starving for centuries. But as enemies close in, alliances fracture, and war brews over the divine blood flowing in her veins, Valentina must decide: Will she fight fate again… Or surrender to the one man who could ruin her—or save her?

"You were his Luna," Lucien’s voice was silk wrapped in steel, his golden eyes burning through the shadows. "But you were always meant to be mine."
Evelara’s breath hitched, though her tone was cold. "You think I’ll fall into your bed just because you’re the Supreme?"
A dark smirk curved his lips. "No. You’ll fall because your body remembers what your heart refuses to admit… that I’m the bond he never deserved."
———————
Evelara Stormrune’s life shatters the moment she finds her mate, Alpha Callum Brooksbane, entangled with his mistress. Worse, the son she had devoted her life to, had wanted his father's mistress to become his mother. Betrayed. Humiliated. Rejected. She walks away, determined never to let a man define her again.
But fate isn’t finished with her…
When the Alpha Supreme, Lucien Virek, takes notice of the broken Luna, Evelara is pulled into a dangerous game of desire, vengeance, and secrets buried deeper than the bloodlines of their kind. Lucien is everything Callum is not—ruthless, untouchable, intoxicating. Yet he hides scars as jagged as her own.
Now, caught between the wreckage of her past and the fire of a forbidden bond, Evelara must decide: Will she surrender to the King who could consume her whole… or will she rise from the ashes and make even a Lycan kneel?

When Cory's father suddenly dies, his entire perfect world is torn apart.
Gone is the loving mother, doting sister, lovely house, and the huge allowance. Instead, Cory needs to deal with the bank auctioning off the home he gave his first steps in, an illness that befalls his little sister, and the depression that's eating his mother alive.
Just as it can't get any worse, Patrick with the golden-brown eyes, the infectious laugh, and the rich life eventually showed interest in Cory. The thing that Cory believed would have made his once almost-perfect world completely perfect now becomes his biggest fear as he tries to keep his new life a secret.
With juggling his depression, suicidal thoughts, and self-harm; Cory just doesn't know if the boy with the infectious laugh has a place in his life anymore.

"Out in the Wind"is not just the story of a teen who is forced to grow up sooner than any kid should. It is also a real story that happens to lots of people around the world on a daily. This is a story full of tears, sadness, hope, loss, faith, and love.

He is my master, I am his slave, his son my lover.

Set in a fictional historical world, Grand Duke of Wynthorpe, Lucian Blackwell unexpectedly purchases Sarang, a lunari slave, to serve as companion for his son, Nathaniel. Overtime, Lucian and Nathaniel develop deep, conflicting emotions for him. While Nathaniel seeks to free him, Lucian's growing attachment complicates the relationships between the three.

Caught in a tense emotional triangle, Sarang is torn between his loyalty to Lucian and his blossoming romance with Nathaniel. As boundaries between servitude and freedom blur, Sarang must navigate a world where love, power, and desire clash.

"First time?" She kept silent, continued what she was doing, and suddenly — I tore her undies.
I kissed his lips down to her neck because my mouth traced them. I synchronized the insertion of my finger in her vulva; my tongue started to fight with her tongue and play in her hot saliva.
Her growl sent shivers down my spine, the reason for me to burst. "Please,” she begged. I can't help it. She is determined to give her virginity to a mere stranger.
"Psh.” Then, as I entered her private hole, the heat engulfed me.
"Fvck. You’re so tight."


I know who you are and what you have planned. I’ll marry you so I can clean my tarnish name. Regardless of all these, what acceptance would you bestow upon my little mysteries?

In a world where secrets and supernatural forces collide, Giselle Hamilton, a determined TV reporter, embarks on a life-altering assignment. Tasked with documenting the life of the elusive billionaire Shane David, she finds herself drawn into a web of mystery and hidden desires.

Accepted on the condition that she journeys alone to Shane's secluded mountain mansion, Giselle soon discovers that she has stumbled into the midst of an ancient ritual: the Mate night of the Silver Stone Moon Pack. What she doesn’t know that she, a mere human, will become the unexpected choice as Shane's future mate.

As chaos erupts within the werewolf community and tensions rise, Giselle must navigate the treacherous world of werewolf politics and find her place among the pack. With danger lurking around every corner and deep-rooted hatred threatening their bond, Giselle and Shane must confront their own vulnerabilities and fight for the unity they believe in.

Louisa Moreau is an expert at staying alive. A sizzling, skilled bodyguard, she's worked for years guarding her son and warding off the specters of her past. But when she accepts a job with Lorenzo Ricci—a dangerous, cunning mafia don—she never anticipates finding something deadlier than the threat that propels her: desire.

As Lorenzo rescues her father, Louisa finds herself more and more drawn into his lethal game. She vowed to keep her heart locked away, but in the depths of his secret sanctuary, there is flame—blazing, burning, and inescapable. She is finally safe after years. Love in their world, however, is a vulnerability and trust. A death warrant.

And then the trauma that she only just survived comes flooding back. Leonardo Costa—the beast who took her life away—has been closer than she could ever have dreamed.

And the worst betrayal hurts most: her best friend, Emma Emalila, betrayed her. The one person that she ever had any trust in now has her lost time on his shoulders.
With her son's life in the balance and enemies around every corner, Louisa is forced to make an impossible choice: succumb to revenge or battle for a future that may be lost at any moment.

But the more the war engulfs deeper around her, the darker the truth becomes one that shocks her to her core. Her past is not only haunted by spirits; it's constructed of secrets.

The father she struggled to save might have been concealing more than foes and the identity she holds on to. It might not even be hers.

She's not a victim—she's a pawn in a game of death that she didn't even realize she was playing. And now, the only way to win… is to find the truth before it devours her.

It would be beyond shameful… I slept with my sister's fiancé on the very day my husband died.
"Tell me, princess." Matt shoves my panties aside, sliding a finger inside, and I gasp. "How long you've been wishing for my dick?"
"Just get this over with. I need to get out of here," I say flatly.
In an instant, he bends me over, forcing my back to arch. He shoves my panties aside roughly, like my words have fueled his rage.
His hand wraps around my neck, squeezing firmly as he slams into me without warning.
"God—!" A loud gasp tears through the room, and I try to fight it but it is too late.
Pain and pleasure explode hot between my legs.
I hate how my walls clench around him—like they want more.
"Greedy cunt." He smacks my ass hard. "Look how it swallows my dick."
He pulls back, then drives into me once more, the wet slap of his hips against my ass echoing through the room.
"I can tell from the way your pussy swallows my dick… so hungry for more."
I shake my head, teeth gritting. "Go to hell—"
"Hmmm." He pauses for just a second before ramming into me again, his rhythm increasing. "I wish I could go to hell, princess… but as it stands, I'm going nowhere but inside this pussy."
"Now tell me how this dick feels inside you," he murmurs.
"Doesn't feel good," I lie, knowing it will rile him up.
But this time, the bait doesn't work.
Matt just laughs.
He slaps my ass twice in quick succession, each smack loud enough to make my eyes water.
Then he starts driving into me faster—brutal, punishing strokes that make my thighs tremble and my knees buckle.
"Beg for it… your sister Daisy begs for it every time I fuck her."
Jealousy fills my chest instantly. "Well, too bad I'm not Daisy. I'm Ashley," I bite back.
"Oh, I know exactly who you are," he says coldly. "Daisy's replacement. Nothing else."
"Just shut up and fuck me." I grit out, rage and jealousy rising in my chest.


At twenty-one, Ashley Knowles is forced into an arranged lavender marriage with the most feared biker president in California.
Twenty-four hours later, she's a widow.
Thrust into the ruthless world of the Sons of Chaos Motorcycle Club, Ashley inherits an empire of oil rigs, ranches, illegal dealings, and blood-soaked power she never wanted. But the club brothers don't bow to outsiders—especially not a girl who knows nothing about their world.
Three dangerous men circle her like wolves:
Matt —her dead sister's fiancé blames Ashley for the death of his fiancée and wants brutal personal revenge. He'll break her body to heal his grief.
Bran —her scarred brother-in-law craves slow, psychological payback for the high-school sin that scarred him forever and ruined his life. He'll take her body piece by piece until there's nothing left.
Ripper —the Vice President, protects her with fierce loyalty no one understands… but his devotion comes with secrets that could destroy them all.
Caught between these three men, Ashley must find a way to protect herself, because the Sons of Chaos don't share.

Oscar Rivière, the heir of the Duchy of Rivière, learned he is bound to be married to the Duchess of Wingfall the very same day his father has arranged his departure. Strange rumors are told about his fiancée: a crazy noblewoman who eats men and feasts on the blood of innocents? Whatever is about to come, Oscar can only count on himself to discover the truth.

"Good. I can't wait but what if I want it now?" Prince Dominus teased and Akira lips pressed together. She didn't utter a word.
That earned her a scoff. Then his hand moved, not gently, his fingers brushing down the line of her neck, across her collarbone. She tensed under his touch, her breath quickening as every nerve screamed for her to flee. But she didn't move.
His fingers moved lower, brushing over the fabric of her dress, just very close to her breast. Akira inhaled sharply, not in shock, but in the dull, hollow way she had grown accustomed to his touch.
Leaning closer, his lips moved over her shoulders. She hated that her skin still responded to him; her wolf hated it too. But after seven years, even hatred had lost it's sharpness.
His hand slid up, cupping her breast through the fabric. She flinched- just slightly. He noticed. He always noticed. "You're harder today," he whispered, brushing his thumb slowly over her nipple. "Almost like you missed me."
Akira said nothing. His other hand smoothed over her hip, then gave a sharp, playful smack that made her jerk. A grin tugged at his lips.
"I like when you're quiet," he said. "You're best when you're quiet."
Akira closed her eyes. She could feel the warmth of his cock pressed against her.


The day Akira chose to escape from school and return home to see her family, she met only ashes. After fifteen years of being hidden from the prying eyes of the Grand Alpha King, the one day she finally returns home, everything is gone.
No family. No friends. No hounds.
And worse, she is captured by Prince Dominus. She spends years in slavery, secretly planning her escape. When the opportunity finally comes, she flees. But where is safe from the Alpha King's reach.
Just when she begins to believe her life is taking a better turn, she is abducted again by the very ones who destroyed her past. The ones who exterminated her family. The ones who took her captive.
And now, she discovers an unthinkable truth: she is fated to the Grand Alpha King, the same man who once ordered her family's death, the same one who tried to claim her years ago.
How can she accept being mated to such a monster? Worse still, how can she tell him that his son, Prince Dominus, also desires her?

"I reject you as my mate!" My voice rang out, shattering the heavy silence of the pack hall. Eugene clutched his chest, his face twisting in agony as the mate bond snapped. He thought I would beg? He thought I would accept his pregnant mistress while he humiliated me? Dead wrong. I watched him fall to his knees, gasping for air, but I felt no pity. But before I could collapse from the backlash, a dark, massive figure stepped out of the shadows. Alpha Arnold, the Lycan King. He scooped me up into his arms as if I weighed nothing, his chest hard against my cheek. "Put her down! She is mine!" Eugene roared, blood dripping from his lips. Arnold smirked, his eyes glowing with predatory delight. "Yours? She just rejected you, pup. She belongs to me now." As he carried me away from the hell that was my home, leaving my cheating ex screaming in the dust, I knew my life had just taken a dangerous turn.


Eugene returned after a year, bringing with him a woman who was three months pregnant. The war between the werewolves and the lycans had forced him to make a painful choice, reject his true mate, Irene. But the surprises didn’t stop there. At a peace treaty party, Irene met Arnold, the rude and arrogant lycan alpha. What shocked her even more was when Arnold boldly asked her to be his mate, a symbol of peace between their two packs. Eugene was stunned. He had never imagined his rejected mate would leave the pack. He wanted to refuse Arnold’s offer, but there was one problem: Eugene wasn’t the alpha yet, his father still held the title.

Crema, who had been proclaimed Prince Alpha's mate, took her place, promised to be his wife, and faced her destiny. She received lessons on how to adjust to the regulations of werewolf society, in addition to fitness training. On their wedding day, however, Prince Alpha publicly declared his love for Crema's cousin Janine and turned her down. Crema was mistreated, ignored, and made fun of by the public. Janine's betrayal was the greatest hurt Prince Alpha had experienced from all the ladies he had dated. Because of this brutality, Crema was compelled to leave the marriage and elope. Even though Prince Alpha looked far and wide for his bride, it was too late. A bloody scarf and a pair of shoes were the only remnants of her disappearance. He was filled with deep regret and wondered whether he could go back in time. If Crema had been honest with others sooner, his terrible death might have been avoided. Prince Alpha was shocked when twins showed up at his gate one day and claimed to be his children. The boy looked a lot like him, while the girl looked like his late wife.

Synopsis:

When twin sisters are exact opposite but somehow gets entangled with the same guy.

Michael Louis was a twelve year old young CEO who after the death of his mother lost interest in this world. He was tired of living hence attempted suicide.

Claudia Larabee, the opposite twin of Clara Larabee, had suffered much unfairness by her family.

For the twelve years of her life, her sister had been a thorn in her flesh. Amidst the wickedness her sister had shown her was forcing a nurse to suck blood from her as donation to some young heir. The consequence of that action, Claudia didn't really recover from.

Claudia, unknown to her, had become a reason a young boy had to live.

Yearning to meet her for once in his life, Michael stumbles upon her wrong twin, Clara.

Years later, he returns to find her again.

The journey he makes to establish a lasting relationship proves dangerous to Claudia, as her wicked twin gets a rich and dangerous friend.

Would Michael realize he's falling for the wrong twin? Or would fate forever give Claudia painful smiles?