256 Book(s) Related to when breathe becomes air pdf

I can't breathe. Every touch, every kiss from Tristan set my body on fire, drowning me in a sensation I shouldn't have wanted—especially not that night.
"You're like a sister to me."
Those were the actual words that broke the camel's back.
Not after what just happened. Not after the hot, breathless, soul-shaking night we spent tangled in each other's arms.
I knew from the beginning that Tristan Hayes was a line I shouldn't cross.
He wasn't just anyone, he was my brother's best friend. The man I spent years secretly wanting.
But that night... we were broken. We had just buried our parents. And the grief was too heavy, too real...so I begged him to touch me.
To make me forget. To fill the silence that death left behind.
And he did. He held me like I was something fragile.
Kissed me like I was the only thing he needed to breathe.
Then left me bleeding with six words that burned deeper than rejection ever could.
So, I ran. Away from everything that cost me pain.
Now, five years later, I'm back.
Fresh from rejecting the mate who abused me. Still carrying the scars of a pup I never got to hold.
And the man waiting for me at the airport isn't my brother.
It's Tristan.
And he's not the guy I left behind.
He's a biker.
An Alpha.
And when he looked at me, I knew there was no where else to run to.

She rushed home late at night to celebrate her husband's birthday — only to find him with another woman.
"Daddy, when are you and Mommy getting a divorce?" her son asked, innocent and cruel all at once. "I want Auntie to be my new mommy."
She thought of the divorce papers she'd found the day before. Without hesitation, she picked up her phone and dialed her boss.
"I'll join the OriginWorld research program. But I have one condition..."
Months later, she stood at the podium as a national-level AI research consultant, delivering a keynote lecture.
And there, in the audience, sat her ex-husband — staring up at her, utterly stunned.

She baked his pack to perfection for five years, only to overhear she was just the “cheaper version” of his fated mate.

When Alpha Brian slaps her, abandons her in flames, and chooses the villainess who faked everything… Angela walks away, rejects him forever, returns home as the hidden heiress of a powerhouse pack, marries the Lycan King who worships her and watches her ex spiral into madness.

For the third time, Kael fled before the wedding—this time to deliver medicine to the neighbor girl he grew up with.
As compensation, the pack elders offered me two chests of rare ore and the deed to an island.
Someone, still hopeful, called Kael on speakerphone.
His careless voice echoed through the hall:
“Why bother with compensation? Ella loves me so much; she’ll come around as soon as I go back and sweet-talk her a little.”
“Sophia’s health is what matters now. Once she recovers, I’ll just hold another ceremony for Ella.”
The elders tried to explain, but the surrounding werewolves were all waiting to see the show—waiting to see how much humiliation I would swallow.
Just like the first two times.
But I’d had enough. And I’d lost all interest in Kael.
I kicked over the chest of ore and let my gaze fall on Kael’s uncle.
Then, I smiled.
“I heard the old Alpha left a will: whoever can claim me… becomes the next Alpha.”

When my own father pinned me against the reef and ripped my scales off one by one, my sister buried herself in my fiancé's arms and cried. "Don't blame my sister. She was born worthless."
Right there in front of everyone, they decided to offer me to the Sea God as a sacrifice. They couldn't even be bothered to send anyone to see me off.
But when I was dragged, half-dead, into the black prison, what came for me wasn't death.
It was the Sea God himself.
He wiped the blood from my tail and said, "Good. Let them keep piling on their sins. I'll make them drop to their knees and beg for your forgiveness."

"Call me brother," he whispered, pressing me against the wall, his erection hard against my stomach.
For twelve years, we played this dangerous game. By day, I was his obedient foster sister. By night, I was his obsession.
He never went all the way—saving me for marriage, he claimed—but he did everything else. His fingers knew every wet corner of my body. His mouth had tasted my pleasure a thousand times. He groomed me to be the perfect toy for his bed.
"You're mine, Julie. Only mine."
But then Lena came back.
Suddenly, the bedroom door was locked. Suddenly, I heard her screams of pleasure instead of mine.
He didn't touch me anymore. He looked at me with cold, dead eyes and said, "You're just a sister. Stop acting like a jealous lover."
He threw away twelve years of intimacy for a fresh body.
I packed my bags, leaving behind the lingerie he bought me, the toys we used.
When he finally realized Lena was a fake, he came running back, eyes wild, wanting to claim what he thought was still his property.
"Spread your legs for me, Julie," he begged, reaching for me.
I slapped his hand away. "Go fuck your sister, Daniel. I'm done."

"Come see our wedding invitations!" I excitedly held up the document folder I'd grabbed from ,my fiancé, Lorenzo's study, showing it off to his men in his private safe house on the Upper East Side.

Lorenzo and I had been running ourselves ragged this month preparing for the wedding.

Lorenzo's guys raised their glasses, waiting to see our custom-designed invitations. I eagerly turned the folder upside down—

Marriage certificates, wedding photos, and a property transfer document came tumbling out onto the floor.

Dead silence.

"Oh, these aren't our invitations..." I was still grinning foolishly. "Must be the wrong folder."

"Let me see which lucky lady is about to become a happy bride."

I looked down at the wedding photo. A beautiful brunette woman in an elaborate white gown smiled from the center of the picture, looking so blissful, so content.

When my eyes shifted to the groom beside her, my world collapsed.

It was Lorenzo. He wore a perfect black tuxedo, but he was tenderly embracing a woman I'd never seen before.

Mike Costa was supposed to be the sole heir to the Mafia, but he was betrayed and “abandoned” by his own brother Lucas in a yacht explosion, and everyone believed he was dead.
Five years later, he returns—cold-blooded, powerful, and unshakable. The entire underground world of New York is reshaped beneath him.
Just as Mike is about to settle everything once and for all, Lucas forces him into a political marriage with Chicago’s top family, using the secret of his true identity as leverage.
And when Mike first meets the woman at the top of that power hierarchy, she completely changes the rules of this marriage contract—this time, hunter and prey are no longer clearly defined.

For seven years, Rose Rollins hid her noble Silver Wolf bloodline in Blackstone City.
She saved Zack Morrigan from ruin and helped Shawn Haynes rise from disgrace. They once swore they would protect her forever—until an innocent-looking Omega, Sally, stole their attention, their trust, and finally their hearts.
Framed, humiliated, and nearly killed by the men she once loved, Rose finally stops waiting for their loyalty. She returns to Golden Oak City and accepts the arranged bond she once fled: a union with Asher Thorne, the powerful Alpha of the Golden Pack.
But Rose's return exposes more than old wounds. Sally’s lies begin to unravel. Zack and Shawn discover the woman they betrayed was never powerless. And Asher, cold and dangerous, may be the only wolf who truly respects her.
As enemies close in and regrets arrive too late, Rose must choose between revenge, forgiveness, and a future where she never looks back.

To help my girlfriend climb the ranks, I handed over my life's research and propelled her into the inner circle of power.

Her repayment? To secure her status, she threw my thirteen-year-old sister outside the city gates to feed the zombies.

When I uncovered the truth, she showed zero remorse. Instead, she knocked me out herself, tossing me into a metal transport truck to serve as zombie rations.

She thought dead men tell no tales.

What she didn’t know was that the moment the zombies bit me, I swallowed my newly developed serum.

When I opened my eyes again, I hadn't lost my mind. Instead, I had become the Zombie King, commanding an endless horde of the infected!

Half a year later, Eden City’s energy is depleted, and the city is besieged by a massive army.

Dressed to the nines, my girlfriend steps out of the city to beg and negotiate with the rumored "Zombie Boss of the Wasteland."

Sitting across the negotiation table, looking at her hypocritical face, I slowly take off my gas mask...

The agony of dragonfire tearing through my flesh still seared my memory.
But I had been reborn.
I touched my reflection. No scorch marks. No melted skin. My eighteen-year-old face stared back.
The door burst open. Zephyra swept in, her dragonfire pendant gleaming.
"Megan, don't be nervous." Her voice dripped honey-sweet. "Even if you can't sense dragonfire, the Dragon God won't judge you harshly."
My father's legitimate daughter. Pure dragonblood. The family's pride.
And me? The bastard. A half-blood who couldn't even conjure a spark.
"The prophecy bond isn't set in stone." Her hand landed on my shoulder, grip too tight. "If Lord Roran feels overwhelming, bond with a lower-tier knight. I'll support whatever you choose."
Support me? The word tasted like ash.
Roran was the empire's youngest Dragon Knight Commander. In my past life, I'd believed her lies and married him.
I thought it was salvation. Instead, I became his shield while he slept with Zephyra.
At Zephyra's ascension ceremony, when a wyvern lunged for her, he shoved me into the beast's path.
The wyvern's claws tore into my abdomen. My unborn child died inside me.
Then came the dragonfire.
Roran unleashed it to save Zephyra. The flames swallowed everything: the beast, me, and the dragon egg I'd carried for months.
Through the agony, I watched him scoop Zephyra up. "Save Zephyra! The child—"
My child was already ash. He mourned hers.
"If I hadn't been pregnant, Megan wouldn't be so jealous..." Zephyra whispered.
"If there's a next life, I'll make this right." Roran's hollow guilt.
Next life?
Your dragonfire burned my child alive. You let me bleed out. And now you want redemption?
Not a chance.

Here is an adaptation crafted in the style of a bestselling contemporary Western psychological thriller or domestic drama hook, using fast-paced, high-tension American English:

For three years, I was the envy of Manhattan’s elite—the untouchable heiress with the flawless life.

My husband? The media constantly fawned over him, dubbing him "God’s gift to women" and the absolute epitome of a perfect gentleman.

Then came the video. The damn video that shattered it all.

Kneeling on the floor, wearing a thick leather collar like a pathetic stray, was the man I had loved deeply for years.

At the other end of the leash stood another woman, the stiletto of her red-soled Louboutin pressing ruthlessly into his cheek.

"Tell me, what are you?" she demanded.

"I'm Mistress Elena's dog," he whimpered. "I just want to get away from Sienna... I'm so sick of that suffocating bitch."

Every vow, every promise we ever made, instantly dissolved into a sick, twisted joke.

But instead of breaking down, I just smiled. And I hit save.

If he wanted to act like a dog so badly, I’d be more than happy to oblige. I was going to make sure he choked on that damn leash.

In my past life, I threw myself in front of the black panther alpha when his rut drove him into a frenzy—only to have him toss me into a pack of beasts and watch me get torn to pieces.
After being reborn, the first thing I did was rip off the royal crest pinned to my chest and swallow a suppressant, cutting off his control over me for good.
Everyone waited for me to come crawling back and beg for peace.
Instead, I turned and walked straight into the frozen Northlands, where the death rate was eighty percent.
There, through a severed arm, a ruined face, and the thin line between life and death, I awakened as the Platinum Lion King.
He dropped to his knees in the snow, crying and begging for forgiveness.
I only had one question for him: "What makes you think you're anything to me?"

When the apocalypse struck, my brother Leo didn't hesitate to choose the offshore sanctuary.
In our past life, faced with a choice between a powerful inland warlord commanding a massive army and a leader clinging to a solitary island, Leo snatched up the first option.
But when a zombie horde overran the mainland and defenses collapsed, he fled to my island for refuge.
Jealous of how well I was surviving the end of the world, he and our parents knocked me unconscious in the dead of night and threw me into the ocean to drown.
Now that I've been reborn, Leo immediately took our parents to the maritime base, leaving the "dangerous" mainland to me.
He thinks the ocean is a natural barrier that guarantees his safety, that he can sit back and relax while the world burns.
But there's one thing he doesn't know.
Zombies aren't just static, mindless walking dead—they evolve.
And when they do, that offshore sanctuary will become a floating hell with no way out.

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!"

Betrayed to death by my own brother, I was reborn before the apocalypse descended.
He rushed to seize the god-tier [Copy] talent first, leaving the trash [Purification] talent for me.
He thought that with this talent, he'd have no worries and reign supreme in the apocalypse.
Meanwhile, I quietly closed the last door of my fortress.
He didn't know that his prized copying ability had a fatal flaw.

When her marriage comes to an abrupt end, Sparkle tries to channel her pain into saving a dog that has been condemned to die after being involved in a terrible accident, but after a few weeks, she makes the horrible discovery that the dog she saved is, in fact, no dog at all. She saved a badly injured wolf she has mistaken for a husky. He's a powerful alpha who is very ruthless to humans, and Sparkle is no exception, or is she? Find out what becomes of Sparkle when Dalton finally regains his strength and reclaims his pack.


I saved a dying husky from being euthanized, not knowing I was bringing a billionaire Alpha werewolf into my bed. My husband divorced me because he thought I was infertile, kicking me out for a dog he was allergic to. I had nothing left but the injured animal in my backseat. I nursed him, bandaged him, and poured my broken heart out to him. But one morning, the dog was gone. In his place stood Dalton Roux, the most powerful Alpha in the city. He didn't just thank me. He kidnapped me to his mansion, claiming it was for my "protection." "You saved my life," he whispered, his voice dropping an octave as his hands roamed my curves. He pinned me against the wall, his massive erection pressing against my thigh, growling possessively.

“Do I really deserve this?”
Dr. Xavier Brown asked the void after the woman he loved smiled and shoved him off a rooftop.

He died a brilliant, betrayed genius… only to wake up as the worthless secondary character in a trashy web novel.

The pathetic live-in son-in-law.
The disposable husband.
The man scripted to be humiliated, divorced, and killed so the protagonists could shine.

Died once.
Refused to die again.

Armed with every humiliating page of his own doom, Xavier signs the divorce papers with a smirk, takes the money, and kicks the first death flag into the dirt.

But the story doesn’t let go so easily.

When he saves the mother of Isabella Voss, the novel’s ice-cold villainess, using medicine this world has never seen, she doesn’t destroy him.
She builds him a kingdom: a hospital with top-notch facilities, an empire of shadows, and a love that feels dangerously real.

Then the truth rips the script apart.

He isn’t Alexander Rodriguez.
He is Alexander Winchester, erased heir to a hidden mafia family, legendary assassin king, memory wiped and chained as a live-in dog by the very people who now call themselves heroes.

Six deadly sisters descend to reclaim him.
A ruthless CEO. A ghost hacker, an assassin trainer, a pharmaceutical prodigy, a public opinion goddess, and the youngest who sees what’s coming before it breathes.

With a system that evolves from cold machine to snarky partner in crime, Xavier walks two paths at once:

The Healer who rewrites life, and the Ruler who burns false fates to ash.

But Karma never dies, Damien and Sophie met with their consequences

Every betrayal returns.
Every death flag screams.

“Do I really deserve this?”

Xavier smiles, scalpel in one hand, shadow in the other.

This time the answer is yes.

Everyone said I’d traded five years of my youth and my unwavering devotion for an engagement that every woman envied.
My fiancé, Felix Smith, seemed to believe it, too. He gave me pearls, promised me a bright future, and wrapped me up in a web of tenderness, layer after layer.
Until that afternoon, when he held me close, yet used a language he thought I didn’t understand to weave the perfect "wedding" con over the phone.
That was the moment I finally realized: over these five years, who had he really been looking at through me? And every pearl he ever gave me, whose tastes was he remembering?
When the elevator failed and darkness crashed down, the person he protected on instinct wasn’t me.
When the wind howled across the empty outskirts, the person he chose to abandon was me.
I’d been learning how to love him, how to become a proper bride. In the end, what I learned was how to exit quietly, out of his world with Serena.
Only when I slipped off that pearl ring did I understand—
Some love stories, from the very beginning, are nothing but long letters written to someone else.

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

In my previous life, on the very day of our marking ceremony, my Alpha fiancé met his fated mate at the banquet.
He didn’t break off our engagement. Instead, he chose silence and completed the ceremony with me. He chose to trap me with a twenty-year mate bond.
For twenty years, I fought wars for the Pack, bore him an heir, and ruled the main hall alone as Luna.
Meanwhile, in another Pack’s territory, he spent his entire life with that woman.
Before I died, he told me he was sorry.
But he also blamed me—saying that if I hadn’t insisted on taking the Luna seat, he could have left more completely.
Only then did I realize something cruel. Not only was I never the one he loved, I was also the obstacle to his freedom.
When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day of the marking ceremony.
This time, the mate bond had not yet formed, and the mate mark had not yet been sealed.
Whether he would abandon me for his fated mate no longer mattered.
Because this time—
I would never step aside for any Alpha again.

At the Morello family’s Christmas dinner, I stood beside Vincent, waiting for him to announce our engagement.
Instead, in the very next second, he walked in holding a little boy and claimed him as his son.
And the woman he said he was going to marry? Scarlett Morello. The one he had always introduced as his “sister.”
The whole room erupted in applause. I stood there frozen, like a nail hammered into the floor.
Later, in his study, he took my hand and said, “Scarlett is dying. Late-stage breast cancer. She only has six months left. After she’s gone, I’ll marry you.”
But there was no guilt in his eyes. No love, either.
Then he told me to go to his villa that afternoon, to take care of the woman who was supposedly “dying.”
I opened the photo he sent me. Scarlett was lying in a hospital bed, pale-faced, an IV in the back of her hand.
A professional tennis player who had been playing in an exhibition match three weeks ago, and who had dropped three grand at Louis Vuitton on Fifth Avenue just five days ago.
But sure. She was “dying.”
At three in the morning, I was curled up by the front door of my apartment, crying so long I lost track of time.
Then my phone lit up. A text from an unknown number:
[Elena, I’m downstairs. When we were kids, you told me that once I controlled the docks on the East Coast, you’d marry me. The docks are mine now. Does that promise still stand?]
I pulled back the curtain and there he was. Ethan Vitale, my first love, leaning against the door of a black Cadillac, lifting a hand in a lazy wave.
Three years ago, when he left New York, he was only a Capo.
Now, he was the Don of the Vitale family.
He didn’t rush me. Didn’t pressure me to come downstairs.
He came for one reason only, to let me know he was back.
I wiped away my tears and texted back:
[It still stands.]
Because I wanted to see for myself just how long that woman could keep up her act.

At fifteen, my parents died on their way of volunteer teaching in underprivileged areas. I was adopted by the Miller family’s Don, Vincent and was brought up by himself. For ten years, he hauled me out of the mud, gave me a home, gave me favor no one else got and taught me what a “family” was supposed to mean.
On my eighteenth birthday, I climbed onto his bed and kissed him.
He called me disgusting with a face like ice. Later, he brought Isabella home, forced me to be her bridesmaid, and made me go with her to pick out wedding dresses and jewelry.
One shove from her was all it took for him to lock me in a pitch-black confinement room and he even had the light removed.
That was when I finally understood: everything I had could be taken back from me at any moment.

I woke up to the truth that I had somehow ended up inside a mafia novel, cast as Richard’s “burdensome little sister.”
The day I was disfigured saving him, Richard held my hand and swore I was his only weakness.
He said even if the fire had turned me into a monster, I would still be his.
But I knew the truth. I wasn’t his weakness but the curse he could never escape.

Ten years ago, on the night of the fire, I stepped into an ocean of flames for him. In return, I got burns across sixty-three percent of my body and ten years locked inside his guilt.
Stella, the mafia heiress who loved Richard so desperately it bordered on madness, once stood beside my hospital bed, crying as she begged me to let him go.
“You’re his only weakness,” she said, her voice shaking. “The Miller Family already has their eyes on him… Please. Just set him free.”

So I put on a veil and married the man Richard hated most, Frank of the Miller Family.
At the wedding, Richard’s eyes were bloodshot as he grabbed my arm.
“Tell me the truth,” he demanded hoarsely. “Are you doing this willingly?”
Through the cheap veil covering my ruined face, I smiled at him. “Yes. I’m tired. I don’t want to be your burden anymore.”

But on our wedding night, Frank tore the veil from my head. He stared at my twisted, scarred face and sneered. “Jesus… you’re fucking ugly.”
When Frank pinned me down, my fingers brushed against the gun Richard had secretly slipped into my wedding dress.
Along with it was a bloodstained note. His handwriting was frantic, almost insane.
Just one word—Live.

And right now, my adoptive father was waiting at the North Dock with men from the Miller Family, ready to silence me for good.
Because the fire ten years ago, the one that burned my adoptive mother to death, was started by him.
Now everyone wants me dead.
But Richard…This time, for you, I’m going to stay alive, even if I have to crawl all the way to the gates of hell.

I used to think Jude was my one way out, my only salvation when my life fell straight into hell.
He pulled strings to get my mom into emergency surgery and helped me handle my dad’s funeral. He even promised he’d give me a home.
I believed him. So I married him. And for eight years, I let him take my blood every single month; he said it was for “routine health monitoring.”—Eight years, 9,999 milliliters.
Until that night, when I heard him with my own ears, talking to his friend:
“Lily’s blood type is rare. Lynn and her mom? They’re just ready-made blood banks.”
He didn’t marry me out of love. He married me to keep a “living blood bag” in hand.
I rested a hand on my still-flat belly and I laughed.
So this was what our marriage really was. From start to finish, it was a slaughter dressed up as love.
Fine. Then let’s see when it was time for the sacrifice, who ended up on the altar.

Everyone thought the disfigured obsessive fan was stalking actress Sophia Brown.

No one believed I was the real Sophia.

My twin sister, Lily, slept beside my husband, Don Jason. She used my face to star in my movies. She even took over my social media accounts and posted under my name.

I wanted an explanation. But Jason only looked at my scarred face with cold disgust and said he had always thought Lily was me. He said he had fallen for her and couldn’t let her go.

Lily told me becoming an actress had been her dream since childhood. Now that my face was ruined and I could no longer act, why shouldn’t I let her have it?

The only person who stood by me was my agent, Nancy. And because of me, even she was dragged into hell.

This time, I stopped trying to prove who I was. I chose another way.

Five years after breaking the mate bond, Vincent became one of the youngest Alphas of the North, worth hundreds of billions, with a fiancée who was a perfect match for him — the daughter of Silver Claw Pack’s Alpha.
But I had already disappeared from his world, my name now only whispered in rumors about me being a bar hostess at Midnight Howl Bar, catering to Alphas and nobility.
When someone mentioned my name to him, he simply held his fiancée’s hand with a cold look in his eyes.
"I don't know her."
At his bonding ceremony, everyone congratulated the "perfect match."
But I, floating in the air, watched as Vincent stood beside his dazzling Luna.
What he didn't know...
He was the only Alpha I ever loved.
What he didn’t know...
I had been dead for a year.
Before I died, I was desperately earning money just to get our daughter the treatment she needed.
Then one day...
He found me at the Midnight Howl Bar where I worked in life, catching a faint but familiar scent of me. That moment...
His wolf spirit completely lost control.

I waited seven years for Lucas.
The moment our Mate Bond was finally sealed, our wedding night left me so exhausted I couldn’t even move and then my phone lit up with photos of him having sex in a car with Isabella, the widow of his dead brother.

Everyone told me not to overthink it. Our relatives brushed it off. Even the Elders stepped in to smooth things over for him.
But behind closed doors, Lucas showed his real face—Restore the Mate Bond or he would destroy my family’s company.

When I fought back, he slapped me so hard it shattered the twenty years of relationship between us. He froze my accounts, and my mother was rushed to the hospital because of sheer stress.
That still wasn’t enough. He demanded that I apologize publicly at a business gala, to the woman wearing his brother’s wedding gift. He even ripped away the moonstone necklace my mother left me.

I was shoved into a champagne tower, blood all over me. And he never looked at me once. All his tenderness was reserved for his sister-in-law.
Just when I’d finally gone numb, top-tier Alpha Finn walked in with a one-billion-dollar contract. “Your designs are worth this much. And I don’t like people touching what I’ve set my eyes on.”

Seven years of devotion wasted on a lie. This time, I’m tearing the fake Mate Bond to shreds and I’ll make every traitor pay!

I am the youngest PhD researcher in the Werewolf Alliance—and the creator of the Lunar Phase Suppressor.
That drug has saved countless young wolves who nearly lost themselves during their very first transformation.
On the day I received the Silver Claw Medal, the entire world celebrated me—everyone except my blood-bonded mate.
I rushed back to our northern Dallas villa, hoping to give him the medal as a birthday gift—for him and for our children.
What awaited me was not an embrace, but my daughter Lyra asking in an innocent voice why Emma couldn’t be her mother.
The only one who stood up for me was my son, Luca.
From the very bottom of my drawer, I took out the withdrawal application I had sealed away for years—and signed it along with the divorce papers.
He wanted me, but refused to give me a name.
He couldn’t bear to let me leave, yet shamelessly gave his devotion to someone else.

I’m the lowest of the low in the wolf pack—just some nobody Omega, born to get stepped on. 

At school, Penny and her crew called me "Pig," yanked my hair, slapped me around, made me kneel and do her homework like some servant. 

Then that full moon ceremony hit, and life played me dirty—turns out my so-called "fated mate" is Richard, the baddest Alpha in the whole damn school! 

But this dude? Daytime, he’s all, "Don’t touch her," flexing in front of everybody. Then night comes, and he’s choking me against the wall like, "You really think a bottom-tier Omega like you deserves me?"

And just when I thought it couldn’t get more twisted? Here comes Ross—another Alpha, the same jerk who used to clown me for his ex. But now? Dude jumps in when Penny’s wailing on me in the rain, then grabs my face all possessive like, "You’re mine now."

My body’s playing me. Richard’s kisses got me weak, Ross’s touch got me shaking—and the sickest part? They’re brothers! Same daddy, different moms. 

When Richard finds out Ross marked me? He pins me to the wall, eyes wild: "Who said you could touch what’s mine?!"

Then Ross, in front of the whole school, rips my collar open to show off his bite mark: "She’s got my blood in her veins now!"

But none of that mess even compares to what my dying mom left me—scrawled in her own blood: "Serena… watch your back…"

Four years of dating. Three years of marriage. He loved me deeply and spoiled me endlessly, making me believe I was the happiest woman alive. But everything shattered the moment I accidentally discovered his affair—while helping a friend, no less. The man who had always treated me with tenderness and devotion was cheating on me, and with someone I thought was closest to me. Was he just a master of deception? Or was I simply too blind, too naive, to see the truth staring at me in the face? I am Linda Evans. And I am not someone who forgives betrayal easily. You dared to lay a finger on my husband? Then get ready—I’ll fight you to the bitter end!

I was the heir of Sliver Claw Pack, born with a crippled wolf spirit.
From the day I could walk, everyone said the same thing—
Only Harvey, the future Alpha of Black Moon Pack, would ever be willing to take me as his mate.
So when he publicly canceled our mate bond, I still believed every word he said.
He told me the woman had saved his life. He told me their bond was only temporary—three years. He promised that when those three years ended, he would marry me.
So I willingly became the lover who could never stand in the light.
Until the three-year deadline approached. To negotiate with a rival Alpha, he pushed me— a woman born with a crippled wolf spirit, a woman who could not even shift— into a brutal forest trial filled with beasts.
He said it was the last time. He said that when it was over, he would marry me.
But when the leopard tore open my chest, I finally understood— The wolf placed last in the pack…was the one abandoned to die.
Yet the Moon Goddess gave me a second life.
When I returned to the age of twenty-two and saw him holding that woman’s hand again, I finally realized something.
This time, I would never be his shadow mate again.
And his insane younger brother—looked at me beneath the moonlight and blood and said, “Emma, I can be your mate.”

I was the female warrior of the Silver Claw Pack, destined to be Beta.
Until the eve of the selection trials.
That was when they hit me with wolfsbane, then trapped me inside a fire they set on purpose. The flames took my face. Almost took my wolf.
I thought it was an accident. Right up until I heard my Alpha mate say to my mother:
"She just lost her looks. But Celia lost her confidence. She owed her that."
Turns out, my mother was the one who locked the door. My mate was the one who pushed me into the fire. So Celia could become Beta without me in the way.
Later, they trapped me in a second fire. They stood there and watched me burn.
They thought I was dead.
What they don't know is that I crawled back out of those flames.
Three years later, when I take my place on the throne as the strongest Beta alive, I'll make sure every single one of them understands.
Fire never destroyed me. It just burned away their last way out.

Five years into my marriage, I took off my Donna necklace at the Rossi family’s New Year’s Eve banquet and Noah still thought I could never leave him.
He stood by the long table with his mistress, Amelia, and said in front of every capo, “Some people will never measure up to her. Not even close.”
I didn’t cry. I didn’t make a scene. I just turned and walked away. On my way out, my cousin Lucas, my fixer, handed me a cup of coffee.
Three days later, he brought me two pieces of news.
Amelia was four months pregnant. And Noah was trading family territory to get his bastard child recognized by the family.
“What are you going to do?” Lucas asked.
I stared out the window, thinking about the red lipstick stain on Noah’s shirt. Thinking about the smug look in his eyes when he told me, “I only helped her because I felt sorry for her.”
“Wait,” I said. “Wait until they think they’ve won.”
What Noah didn’t know was I was still holding one last trump card.

That wedding in Rome was the last time I ever saw him as his “stepsister.”
I was the Roxie family’s only daughter. After my father remarried, my mother and I moved into the Corleone estate, and from that day on, Elias became my stepbrother—also the one obsession I should never have touched.
Out in public, he was always calm and controlled. At home, though, one line from him “Don’t call me brother” made my heart race.
Until the day he held Sophia’s hand in front of a priest and announced he was going to marry her.
I was outside the venue, bending down to pick up empty bottles because I needed dialysis money. He crushed them under his shoe in front of everyone, humiliated me, and forced me to trade my dignity for cash, like he was nailing the word “step-siblings” onto a pillar of shame.
He hated me. He said I’d “gotten back at him” in the filthiest way. I just smiled and never explained.
Because he would never know the truth: back then, the reason I shoved him away with everything I had was only because I wanted him to live a little cleaner.
That night, he locked me in a pitch-dark storage room. Outside the door was wedding music. Inside was my blood and the suffocating despair.
When he finally opened the door… I was already dead.

I’m Aurora. I died at the hands of my family.
“You were born a walking curse to this Pack. Taking Nora’s place and marrying Liam is what you owe us!” My mother, Patricia, bound my arms and legs with a rope dusted in silver powder. My sister Nora raised a silver-laced dagger and drove it straight into my heart. “Your name, your mate, everything belonged to you is mine!” Then she used a face-shaping spell to transform into my appearance, took over Black Moon manor, and waited for my Alpha mate, Liam, to come home.
I became a ghost and was pinned to her side by a soul-sealing array, forced to watch her clumsy imitation. “Liam, I made your favorite wild-berry oatmeal.” But a wolf’s nose never lies. Liam frowned and stepped away. “That artificial perfume on you… that isn’t her.” I watched him spend sleepless nights after his Wolf-Soul Stone shattered. I watched him uncover the truth that my old injury on my left foot was gone, and “I” was no longer allergic to silver-scale fish. Only then did I understand: the Alpha who looked cold had already carved me into his heart.
Not until he dug up what was left of my body, two undeveloped twin pups still hidden inside me, did Liam finally break. With eyes burning red, he roared, “What you owe me… what you owe Aurora… you’ll pay with your lives!” When dawn rose, my soul dissolved into the morning light. All I wished for, in the next life, was to meet him somewhere without betrayal, to be two ordinary wolves who could protect our children, together.

I came home early from a business trip and overheard the woman Joseph always called his “poor stepmother” clinging to him in his office, begging for a kiss. Her swollen belly carried his child.
“When do I get to stop pretending to be your stepmother?” Susan whined.
Joseph’s cold laugh stripped away the last of my dignity. “Soon. Once I drain Emma’s company dry, she’ll be useless.”
I used to think Joseph was my salvation.
After his father died and his pregnant stepmother had nowhere to go, I ignored my family’s objections and brought them both into my home. I poured every resource I had into helping him rise.
I even became pregnant with his child.
Only then did I realize I had never really been his wife.
I was only the stepping stone they used to climb into wealth.
That night, Susan staged a miscarriage.
And Joseph, his face twisted with rage, locked me—pregnant and bleeding—inside a freezing basement.
“A vicious woman like you doesn’t deserve a child.”

Everyone in the New York mafia world knew that Ethan Leone, the Don of the Leone family, was obsessed with his wife.
And I was his legally wedded Donna.
But the moment I pushed open the doors to the nightclub with my pregnancy report in hand.
I saw my husband’s hand resting on his stepmother Serena’s swollen belly.
The report slipped from my fingers and fell to the floor.
Serena glanced at it without the slightest concern.
Then she smiled.
“You can’t have children anyway. Once the baby’s born, you can raise it.”
That was the moment I decided to divorce him.
But later, while Ethan was away, she shoved me from behind at the top of the staircase inside the family mansion.
I tumbled down the stairs.
Blood poured between my legs.
Ethan rushed over.
He saw it.
He saw the blood.
But in the end, he chose to pick Serena up and run out the door without looking back.
I lay in a pool of blood, pulled out my phone, and called my family lawyer.
“The money my family loaned the Leone family three years ago…”
“Prepare a demand notice.”
There was silence on the other end.
“Diana… if you take that money back, the Leone family will go bankrupt.”
I stared blankly at the ceiling and wiped away my tears.
“I know.”

At the Jones family’s political marriage gala, the New York mafia’s most public “celebration”, I, Isabella Rossi, who was a bargaining chip, had been Donovan Jones’s wife for five years.
He was the world’s top perfumer, the kind of man who could coax a scent from his fingertips that made people go mad-and yet, to him, I was a flower with no fragrance at all.
Five years of this marriage, and he had never touched me. The villa’s master bedroom was always his alone, while I was nothing but the “Mrs. Jones” in name-a decorative prop trapped in a luxury cage, so insignificant that even the servants dared to look down on me in secret.
When both sets of parents pressured us for a baby, he wrapped an arm around a famous model and sneered,
“A woman raised off a template like you is only good for taking care of a kid, not for sleeping with.”
He left me behind in the bridal suite-with his younger brother.
Then he took his new fling out street-racing.
That same night, a video of him and the model hooking up in a car shot straight to the top of the entertainment headlines.
And I became New York media’s favorite punchline: the “DISCARDED TROPHY WIFE.”
Just when everyone thought I’d spend the night alone, guarding an empty bed,
I crooked a finger at that eight-pack, absurdly good-looking brother-in-law of mine.
Donovan, you’re right-I am pretty suited to “taking care of a kid.”
Just not a baby. A 6'2", baby-faced college boy.

I’d spent six years working under an alias for the High Council.
The day I came home, I happened to see my daughter being slapped by a woman and forced to kneel down.
I slapped the woman back and called my husband, Derek.
The call connected. In the background, I heard his newlywed wife giggling.
In a voice so cold I barely recognized it, he said, “No one can save you.”
Then he hung up.

That woman sneered, “Here, even the air you breathe belongs to Alpha Derek!”
She had no idea Derek only went from an ordinary Gamma to a Pack king because I’d been laying the road for him from behind the curtain.
Now he had his precious wife and son in his arms, and he still let them treat my daughter like a dog.

I smiled.
If he’d forgotten who lifted him onto the throne.
Then I wouldn’t mind dragging him down with my own hands.

“I’m the one deciding your fate, Derek.”
I took my daughter’s hand and looked straight at the man in front of me.
“Game over. Your Alpha era ends here.”

She once believed she had gained lifelong tenderness through marriage, only to fall into a cage of lies.
All past sweet promises turned into piercing hurts.
In her darkest hour, her savior was her husband’s younger brother, who hid his devotion behind casual banter.
He reserved all his tenderness for her, defied his family, cleared all obstacles, and guarded her rebirth as she broke free from shackles and staged a gorgeous comeback.

Her perfect life shattered on her wedding eve when she discovered her fiancé’s infidelity.
Disoriented and devastated, she fell into the arms of her fiancé’s cold, powerful elder brother.
Entangled in forbidden love and hidden betrayal, she breaks free from her broken past, fighting for redemption and a long-awaited true happiness.

Charlotte Scott's family fell apart, so she packed two bags and moved to her brother's small biker town to start over.

She didn't know he had a pack. She didn't know she had a destiny.

Then Dorian Black — Alpha of Ironveil, the man whose wolf called her mate on her very first night and who spent weeks pretending he hadn't heard it — chased a pack of wolves off her in the dark, kissed her forehead like it didn't mean anything, and trained her like she was just another newly turned wolf.

She isn't.

Charlotte carries a bloodline thought extinct, with power enough to anchor a pack or destroy one... depending on what happens before her third Blood Moon rises.

The Council wants Dorian mated. The elders have secrets older than she is. A she-wolf wants him badly enough to go looking for a witch. And the man who's supposed to be her mate would rather lie to her face than risk losing someone the way he lost the last person he loved.

Charlotte just wants to survive her own life long enough to choose what happens in it.

HIS TO RUIN: ALPHA'S FORBIDDEN MATE is a slow-burn werewolf biker romance about a bond neither of them asked for, a prophecy with a deadline, and a girl who refuses to be anyone's weapon, anchor, or secret.

Ember thought she was ordinary. A farm girl destined for a simple life until fire exploded from her hands and assassins murdered her parents in the flames.

Now she's trapped at Velmora Academy, where magic is power and she has none. She can't control her fire. She's bullied by elite students who see her as worthless. And she's caught the dangerous attention of the five most powerful males in the academy—a dragon shifter who watches her like prey, a vampire whose bite has bonded them against his will, a werewolf whose flirtation hides devastating loss, a mountain lion who protects her with quiet intensity, and a harpy who's seen her die in seventeen different futures.

But when shadow creatures attack and a second element awaken inside her—impossible, forbidden—Ember realizes the truth. She's not ordinary. She's the Fire Queen, prophesied to wield all four elements and either save the world or burn it to ash.

The Dark World is hunting her. A spy walks the academy halls. Ancient portals are cracking. And Ember must master powers that have destroyed every woman before her, or watch everyone she loves die.

Some destinies are written in fire. Hers will consume everything.

Raven thought she knew the truth: Darius Pike is a monster.
To avenge her sister, Raven Casmir infiltrates the supernatural Midnight Academy, masquerading as a human girl with a death wish. She takes his spot on the hockey team. She mocks his Alpha authority. She plays a dangerous game of cat and mouse in the shadows of his billion-dollar empire.

Darius has never met a human he couldn’t break. Until her. The fiery-haired rebel doesn’t bow. She fights. She’s the ultimate forbidden fruit—the sister of the girl he once rejected, and the only person who makes his wolf lose control.

But as blood ties turn to betrayals and ancient MoonWolf powers awaken, Raven discovers the most terrifying secret of all: Her sister lied. And the man she swore to destroy is the only one who can save her from the darkness in her own soul.

Three years ago, Violet Sorel watched the crown prince of Valdris burn her world to the ground. He took her kingdom, killed her parents, bit her in her own courtyard, and left her for dead. She survived. She planned. And when his palace posted an open call for blood servants, she walked straight through his doors with a smile on her face and murder in her heart.

Getting close to Prince Caspian was supposed to be simple. It was never simple.

Now she is his blood servant, his secret, and the first witch to walk Solaria in a thousand years — shipped off to Eirenmoor Academy where an incubus knows her from her dreams, a fae lord won't stay out of her forest, and the prince himself keeps looking at her like he is trying to remember something he was never supposed to forget.

She has a plan. She has a poison. She has everything she needs to destroy him.

The problem is the bond between them and the fact that it has never, not once, felt like hate.

The last witch of solaria is the first book in the Solaria trilogy… a slow burn reverse harem fantasy romance featuring a morally complex heroine, political intrigue, a magic academy that kills its students, and a revenge plot that refuses to stay simple.

Mari is running away from her abusive boyfriend when she runs into Stefan. Stefan, a werewolf king, has mistaken her for his destined mate, and before she can correct him, he bites and mates with her. Mari is happy enough with her newfound life as the werewolf king’s mate, but will her happiness last when his fated mate, who happens to be her long-lost twin sister, shows up?