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To piss off my ex-husband, I ordered a companion android from his company—one with his exact face. I've been breaking it in every night for a month.
Then Genesis Bionics customer service sent me an email:
[Dear Ms. Rachel Knight, your custom order has not yet shipped. Please be patient.]
I looked up at the android buttering toast in my kitchen, my mind going completely blank.
Then who the hell is in my house?

In my previous life, the apocalypse struck. I entrusted my last hope of survival to my best friend of twenty years, but the moment the zombies swarmed, he unhesitatingly pushed me into the horde to be his shield. My girlfriend of three years, standing high above, watched coldly, her face filled with relief at shedding a burden.

In the excruciating pain of being bitten to death, I was reborn 72 hours before the apocalypse.

Looking at the messages from that despicable couple on my phone, I calmly blocked and deleted them, then cashed out all my assets, hoarding three million US dollars worth of top-tier weaponry and massive amounts of supplies. The apocalypse

arrived as expected. When my scheming girlfriend and betrayed brother were chased like dogs by zombies, kneeling before my fortress, frantically begging for mercy,

I sat atop a mountain of supplies, holding an infinitely replicating spatial ring, a gun pressed against his kneecap, and sneered: "Want to live? Never in this lifetime."

In this life, I will not be a saint; I will be the sole king of this post-apocalyptic wasteland.

A man's luxurious watch slipped out of my wife's purse. Without batting an eye, she lied, "It's a gift for your dad." Looking at the youthful, trendy style and thinking of the remote-controlled toy that had mysteriously appeared in the nightstand, I felt nothing but utter disgust.
In the surveillance footage, the domineering homewrecker not only wore my clothes but also arrogantly taunted me.
And my own flesh and blood, the son I cherished more than my own eyes, had covered for them for a few hundred dollars of pocket money!
Since everything was rotten to the core, I wouldn't even want the son anymore.
Without a word, I accepted a tenured professor position overseas, decisively gave up custody, and promptly mailed the divorce papers and the adult toy to her company.
The mistress and the homewrecker's little celebration? Let them torment each other.
This time, I'm taking my life back.

Labeled a timid failure unfit for the stage, Maya is publicly humiliated and mocked by debate club vice president Blair. To save her, her best friend Chloe lies that ordinary vitamin C is a calming pill. Empowered by false confidence, Maya overcomes her fears and dominates the school debate finals with sharp logic. When the truth comes out, everyone realizes her stunning victory stems not from drugs, but from her own hidden talent and courage.

On a rainy night, I lay in a pool of my own blood, barely alive.
My wife, Juliana, was kneeling beside a man named Sebastian. "Take my husband's blood! I will take full responsibility if anything happens!"
Drop by drop, my lifeblood was drained from me, flowing into the body of her first love.
After three days and nights of struggling in the ICU, I finally regained consciousness, only to hear her scornful words outside the door: "Sacrificing a mediocre researcher for the health of my Muse is a worthwhile trade."
So, the five years of tender affection, the specially prepared nutritional soups she brought me every night—it was all to squeeze the last drop of blood from me.
She thought I would remain in the dark like a loyal dog, letting her take whatever she wanted.
Too bad she didn't know that I had quietly poured out that "medicine" and called the Security Bureau.
It was time for the hunter and the prey to switch roles.

"Arthur, please! Send someone to Black Forest—Noah's been taken by rogue shifters! They'll kill him!" I hit the marble floor hard, blood trickling from my forehead.

My mate, the most feared enforcer in this territory, couldn't be bothered. He was too busy looking for his lover's precious pet.

"Eve, you're sick—lying about our kid to get attention?" He gestured dismissively. "Throw her in the cells until she stops this bullshit."

He locked me up all night.

Next morning, he let me out, figuring I'd gotten the message.

He didn't know that thirty minutes ago, the gate guards brought a blood-soaked box.

Our son's head was inside.

The day my sister and I came back to life, we made one call: swap fiancés.

Last time, Dad burned every favor he had to lock down two marriage deals for the family. One with a mafia family that runs the West Coast. The other with a corporate CEO.

My sister married the mafia leader. She was too gentle, too kind for a world that ran on blood and backstabbing. The man had a childhood friend who played soft and helpless but was vicious as hell underneath. That woman tormented my sister for decades before finally arranging an "accident" that killed her.

And me? I got the polished CEO.

Sounds good, right? Except we tortured each other from day one. He was all rules and manners, always talking like he was giving a speech. Me? I blow up fast and if I can throw a punch, I will. Every day was the same standoff. He'd pull back, I'd push forward, and nobody gave an inch.

We spent our whole lives being polite and miserable.

Then one day, my sister and I woke up on the afternoon they announced the engagements.

Three years ago, I devoted my family's entire fortune to rescue my husband from the mire of impending bankruptcy. I once believed this was a mutual journey of love, until that day revealed the chilling truth — I had merely been nurturing a self-consuming wolf.
The metallic scent of blood still hung in the air of the delivery room when he signed the document relinquishing life support, trading our newly born child for a flicker of hope for his beloved.
As I lay in a pool of blood, dialing his number, I could hear the heavy breaths of him and his mistress on the other end.
The explosion of the yacht cast flames upon the sea, and in that life-or-death moment, he unhesitatingly let go of my hand.
They all believed I had perished beneath the waves.
Very well.
Now, my wedding invitation lies within his reach.

The day the promotion list went public, a photo popped up in the company's all-staff Slack channel.
In the photo, my profile nearly overlapped with a scantily dressed girl, the background a dimly lit Manhattan nightclub.
Immediately after, Brad added a caption:
[No wonder Harper landed Richard's M&A deal. Last night's 'overtime' must have been rough, huh?]
Less than ten seconds after he sent it, the message still hung there in the channel. No retraction.
The chat that had just been flooding with "congrats Harper" messages went dead silent.
In my past life, my head buzzed. I thought no one would take such a cheap joke seriously.
But within two days, the company's internal anonymous forum exploded with accusations, complete with photos and "proof."
They said I slept with clients to win the merger deal. That I secured my full-time offer by sleeping my way up. That my personal life was a mess, that I was trash.
My mother collapsed from a heart attack when she heard. She never woke up.
Later, my promotion was revoked. HR suspended me for "damaging company reputation."
I was slut-shamed, radioactive across the entire finance industry — no firm on the Street would touch me.
Within a month, I spiraled from depression to sleepless nights, and finally jumped from the rooftop of my Brooklyn apartment.
Before I lost consciousness, my phone was still buzzing.
"Did they fire her yet? People like that don't belong on Wall Street."
When I opened my eyes again, I was staring at the blinking Slack messages on my screen.

I just got out of prison after three years, and my family wants me to go back in.
"It's only three days," they said. "You survived three years—what's three more days?"
What they don't know: I'm dying. The only thing keeping me alive is my mate bond. Three days away from Everett means death.
For three years in prison, someone sent me food every week. No note, no name. I thought it meant my family still loved me.
I was so grateful.
I didn't know it was my twin sister. I didn't know what was inside.

I awaited my seven-year-old son's birthday, yearning for my husband’s return, only to stumble upon him celebrating at a bar, tenderly kissing his childhood sweetheart.
I initially believed this to be yet another instance of his favoritism, until I overheard a devastating conversation and realized the truth: the precious son I had nurtured for seven years was not mine, but a product of his union with his childhood friend.
The marriage I had fought so hard to preserve was, from the very beginning, a deceitful scheme orchestrated against me.

From a young age, I understood that my asthma was a shackle for my entire family. My parents took turns caring for me, their hearts gripped by the fear of any sign of respiratory distress. In their fervent concern for my health, they even compelled my sister, Sophie, freshly accepted into university, to postpone her studies and return home to assist in my care.
At Sophie's eighteenth birthday celebration, I lingered at the edge of the crowd, my chest constricted, and my throat felt as if it were ensnared by invisible hands. I gently tugged at my mother's sleeve, my voice barely a whisper: "Mom, I... can't breathe. I want to go back to my room..."
In an instant, my mother whirled around, her eyes ablaze with fury, as though she had awaited this moment of eruption. She seized my inhaler and hurled it into the farthest corner of the room.
"If it's this painful, then go die!" she shrieked, her words cutting like a knife. "Stop using your illness to hold us hostage!"
The inhaler tumbled to the floor, rolling away like a forgotten piece of trash. I stared at it blankly, a sudden laugh escaping my lips.
And then, I truly died. Yet, in the wake of my passing, those who once found me a burden descended into madness.

I loved Damien for ten years. Ten years, right up until the moment he took the heart that was supposed to save our daughter and gave it to someone else's child.

Lily was only seven. She was terrified of the dark, terrified of pain. She never got that heart. She just faded, right there in that hospital bed.

And Damien was down the hall, celebrating someone else's miracle.

He had no idea what I was holding when he finally came home. He had no idea my stomach cancer had already hit the final stage.

There was nothing left in this world worth staying for.

So this time, I didn't yell. I didn't cry.

I just slid the divorce papers across the table.

He thought I was bluffing.

But this time, I had nothing left to lose.

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

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

"Camille! Get over here!" my husband Arthur screamed, clutching his mistress tightly in his arms.
In my past life, he charged into the flames to save her—while I burned alive trying to save him.
The moment I died, he wasted no time using my life insurance money to throw her the wedding of the century, right at my family's winery.
This life?
"I'm going to get help," I said, and walked away.
Behind me, something massive came crashing down. His scream tore through the smoke.
I didn't look back.

The smell of antiseptic, the sharp sting of restraints biting into my flesh, and the pitying look on Silas's face as he stood by my hospital bed.
"Maeve, you're so sick. The baby is just a hallucination."
In my last life, consumed by despair and self-doubt, I threw myself off the roof of the psychiatric hospital.
But now, my eyes snapped open, my hands instinctively flying to protect my stomach.
My baby is still here!
I'm back—exactly one week before my child disappeared.

Everyone in town said I dumped my blind boyfriend because I couldn't stand being poor.
Five years later, I'd become a blind drifter myself, relying on handouts just to eat.
And he'd become one of Silicon Valley's hottest rising tech moguls.
He recognized me, but pretended he didn't.
He wanted me on my knees. Wanted me begging. Wanted me to pay for "abandoning" him.
Until he found out the person who gave up everything for him back then was no one else...
But me.

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

In my past life, I was pregnant and met a gruesome end, torn apart by the mad dog my cop husband kept, taking both my life and my baby's.
When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day I discovered I was pregnant.
My seemingly perfect husband, the epitome of a good man, smiled as he brought me muffins laced with rat poison. My seemingly kind in-laws watched me intently, eager for me to swallow the deadly treat...
That's when it hit me: the perfect marriage I thought I had was actually a family conspiracy for murder!
This time, I refuse to be the lamb led to slaughter. If you want my life and my child's, then you'll all be begging for mercy in hell!

I never imagined, not even in my wildest dreams, that I was the daughter of an Alpha.
But when I was finally brought home, I realized my place had already been stolen—by another girl.
She hated me from the moment we met.
So, I gave my so-called parents two choices:
“If you want to keep her, then give me half a million dollars. After that, we’re done—you’ll never hear from me again.
But if you’re willing to get rid of Claire, I’ll stay.”

Ophelia was born the weakest wolf in the pack, mocked, beaten, and treated like nothing. All she ever dreamed of was the day the Moon Goddess would give her a mate who would love her despite her flaws.

But when her fated mate was revealed, he didn’t claim her. He crushed her.

“I, Alpha Dominic, reject you as my mate. You will never be my Luna.”

The words tore her apart, and the pack’s laughter sealed her fate. Cast out, abandoned, and left to die, she thought her story had ended.

But the broken girl they discarded rose. The weak omega become stronger than them all. And the Alpha who rejected her bow at her feet.

To save my terminally ill wife and daughter, I drained half my wolf blood and tore out my own right fang.
Stripped of my source power, I became a worthless wolf despised by the entire clan.
My wife cast me out of the den, pinching her nose at the stench of rot on me; my daughter threw stones at me, cursing me with hatred as a blind, useless failure.
Together, they set their eyes on another young, strong Alpha. They let him trample my dignity in public, and finally had me brutally slaughtered on the frozen wasteland.
But they never knew, the reason that man could make their souls submit and fall for him was that his veins ran entirely with my heart's blood.
Only when I was reduced to a boneless husk of a wolf did my wife go mad, clawing her own gland raw, weeping and begging me to leave her one last mark.

In the wasteland era, the soil is dead. Whoever can grow food is king.
In my last life, my brother gave me the spore we had nearly died to get, and the two of us awakened plant-growing powers together.
But every grain he grew was full and perfect, and the leader placed him on a pedestal; everything I grew was poisonous, and I was mercilessly cast out as worthless.
It wasn't until I died that I learned the truth: his power was never plant-growing, but transfer.
As long as he had eaten the spore, he could transfer away all the crops I grew.
When I got a second chance, I returned to the very day my so-called brother tried to shove the spore into my mouth.
This time, I slammed into him, knocked the spore to the ground, and crushed it under my foot.

In a world overrun by zombies, survivors built a fortress—and my fiancée and I joined its action unit.
To help her secure her position, I turned down leadership’s offer to run my own squad and stayed by her side as the “invisible” second-in-command.

For a full year, I made the tactics, wrote the contingencies, and cleaned up every mission.
She took my plans as her own credit—and let the team treat me like dead weight.

Then, on one operation, she ignored my orders and changed the plan on the fly. Disaster followed.
In the debrief, she blamed everything on me in front of everyone.

I resigned on the spot.

Not long after, I took command of a new squad—and delivered the cleanest record in the entire base.
Her unit couldn’t even finish routine recovery runs.

Until a mandated joint op put our teams at the same rally point—
and she finally realized the “legendary captain” was me.

His lips were on hers, hard, demanding and devastating. His hands gripped her hips, pulling her flush against him, making her feel every inch of his dominance.
She moaned against his lips, her fingers threading into his dark hair, pulling him closer.
The energy in the chamber shifted. The symbols on the walls glowed, reacting to their unbreakable seething bond.
Damian pulled back just enough to meet her gaze. His silver eyes burned with something she had never seen before, something ancient, something dangerous.
"This bond," he murmured, brushing his thumb over her lips, swollen from his kiss. "It’s more than just fate, Isla. It’s something that was written in the stars long before we ever met."


To repay her father's debt, Isla steps into the world of Damian Wolff, an enigmatic and dangerous Alpha of a powerful werewolf pack. What begins as servitude quickly becomes something more, as an undeniable pull binds them together.
But Isla is no ordinary human. Strange visions, violent dreams, and a power she can't explain begin to awaken, catching the attention of ancient forces determined to control or destroy her.
As Isla's connection with Damian deepens, truths about her bloodline unravel and a long-lost prophecy connected to their legacy threaten with reshaping their world.
Allies fall, enemies rise and forbidden bonds emerge as the future is in Isla’s hands.
Torn between love, duty and destiny, Isla must make an impossible choice: protect those she loves by surrendering herself or rise as the force she was born to be, even if it means tearing everything apart.
Passion, prophecy and betrayal weave a story where one woman’s fate could change everything.

I took my sister’s place to save my family. Now I am living a life that could destroy me. I never wanted anything to do with the mafia. But when my twin sister vanished without a word, I stepped into her world and became her… the wife of Rowan, a man people fear and never question.
Every day, I live a lie. His son, Dante, looks at me like I am his mother, and something inside me breaks every time he says in a low voice that l look like his mom. But not everyone is fooled.
Rowan’s family watches me too closely. They see what does not belong and they are waiting for me to slip so they can get rid of me for good.
I tell myself I can handle it. That I just need to survive long enough to protect the people I love.
But I am losing control. Because the man I was never meant to love is starting to look at me differently. And the worst part is… I think I am falling for him too.

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.

The Series of Tempting My Offish Mates and Saving Her Grumpy Mates.
[Multiple mates story, lots of steamy scenes.]
Rain is starting her college life, ready to meet all sorts of new creatures. A werewolf herself only having met other werewolves, she's ready to befriend dragons, fairies, witches, vampires or elfs. However, she wasn't expecting to run into her mate as well as her estranged ex boyfriend on campus. Men keep getting thrown at her left and right. How will she balance these new males with her studies?
What happens when she discovers the secrets her father kept from her? Will she be able to handle everything that will be thrown at her this year?


Ember has grown up believing she had no wolf, magic or dragon. Her twin, Ash, on the other hand has had it all. Deciding it best to transfer to a human high school, she ends up meeting her mate, a hybrid just like her. Her mate brings out her dormant wolf and Ember's life starts to unravel. She thought she would be happier once she got her wolf, instead her life has only gotten more complicated.
Having been deceived before, Ember has a hard time accepting the mate bond. Can she overcome her past to find happiness with her mate? Can he overcome his darkness and help bring Ember out of hers?

Wyatt’s eyes met mine, and I swear I saw them flash gold for a brief moment. The sunshine was coming through the window harshly though, so it was probably just a trick of the light.


Wyatt smiled and for a moment, it was like my heart leapt right out of my chest. He looked like a movie star standing there with the early morning sun behind him. His brown hair was styled a bit more than usual, with more prominent curls throughout and it was up and away from his face. His beard, which was usually more like a thick stubble across his cheeks and chin, had grown out a bit more, and I wondered how I hadn’t noticed that this morning.

That was when I realized I never really let myself look at him for more than a few moments. If I had, I would have noticed the full sleeve of tattoos he had on his left arm– especially when he was shirtless this morning. Or I would have noticed that yes, he was sexy. Yes he was gorgeous. But he was also quite handsome and seemed to have a sweet air about him…


Wrenlee "Lucky" Jones wanted to keep a low profile. Hell, her life depended on it. But when she turned 18 and discovered that a long-time crush of hers was actually her fated werewolf mate, things get complicated fast. Within weeks, she finds herself the victim of an ancient curse and has to battle against both magickal entities and her stubborn, authoritative mate, who happened to be the Alpha King of the Appalachian Dominion. Suddenly caught between fate, fear, and love, Wrenlee must navigate the curse surrounding her and make decisions that will not only cost her... but will cost her mate.

"Lucien. Do you accept this St... sorry." The elder quickly apologized for his drunken slip up, "This 'woman' " his disdainful gaze darted towards Aria as he said that, "as your mate?"
"I, Lucien Vine, once alpha of this great Clawhold, take this...Woman." He started his vow, his pause deliberate as he glanced at Aria, "To be the Luna of my house. I vow no love, no care. Just duty and nothing else."
"And you, Aria Thorne?" he drawled, his speech coming out slurred, "Do you accept – "
"I do." Aria replied quickly. Too quickly.
Aria Thorne was born into a pack that treated her like dirt beneath their paws. Born as a StillBlood, she was mocked, beaten, and branded "broken."
Her only chance at escape? A forced marriage to a fallen Alpha whose scars ran deeper than flesh.
Lucien Vine was once a man of legend. A ruthless warrior. A king among Alphas. Now he's a shadow, crippled and discarded by the very pack he once led and bled for.
Lucien saw nothing but another chain when the new alpha forced him to wed a StillBlood. She was nothing more than one more curse.
However, fate has a perverse sense of humor. Because the Broken Luna possesses a hidden ability that she is unaware of, and the only person who might be able to awaken it is the Crippled Alpha.
Will they ruin one another? Or rise together and set the world on fire?

"I will make them pay for making you suffer," Lukan said to me.
"Why me?" I asked, swallowing hard. "I'm not good for you. I killed my parents. I might repeat the same mistake."
"I don't care about that," He replied, his voice steady. "I bought you because I want to mark you and make you mine."
How do you survive when the only life you've known has been taken from you?
At six years old, I was branded a murderer—blamed for something I didn't understand. My wolf was bound, and I became a slave to my cruel aunt and uncle. For fifteen years, I endured their abuse and believed the lies they told me.
Until the day I was auctioned to the highest bidder: the arrogant Alpha Lukan.
I thought being sold would only bring more misery, but instead, it brought me to the powerful and mysterious Alpha of the Nightbane Pack. He was ruthless yet kind, cold yet tender, and he looked at me like I was someone worth protecting. Like I mattered.
But nothing is ever that simple.
Why did he choose me? Why does he keep me close yet seem so distant, like he's searching for something I can't see?
When the Moon Goddess decides to play chess with your life, you have no choice but to move with the game. And with every step I take, new secrets rise—each one threatening the fragile happiness I've just begun to feel.
Now I must decide:
Am I just another pawn?
Or can I become the queen in a game I never asked to play?

Kieran Silvermane was never supposed to be mine.I was the girl he paid to finish his assignments, fill his attendance, and disappear when his real life walked in.So when the Moon Goddess bound us together—choosing me as the Alpha heir’s mate—I believed, for one foolish moment, that I was finally someone’s first choice.I was wrong.He rejected me under a full moon. In front of his pack. In front of everyone who already thought I wasn’t enough.Shattered and unable to even shift, I was ready to leave Northcrest and never look back.Until his father made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.Now I live under the same roof as the man who destroyed me—the man who swears he rejected me to save me.Because Kieran Silvermane is cursed.And loving me might be the one thing that kills us both.

Archer, Lucas, and Tristan Black are the triplet Alphas of the WhiteFang Pack, a title that carries both honor and responsibility. They are known not only for their strength and leadership skills but also for their unbreakable bond with each other. Since childhood, they have faced countless challenges together, from mastering their combat skills to navigating the complexities of inter-pack relations. Their connection goes beyond mere brotherhood; it is a profound alliance forged through shared experiences and mutual respect. One of their closest allies is Loren Hughes, the Alpha of the Blue Crescent Moon Pack. Loren, renowned for his intelligence and strategic mind, has been a trusted friend to the Black triplets for many years. The two packs have cultivated a relationship built on loyalty, cooperation, and shared goals, often joining forces to confront external threats and protect their territories. Their meetings are filled with not only discussions of tactics and strategies but also laughter and camaraderie, reflecting the deep mutual respect they hold for one another. Together, the Black brothers and Loren navigate the complicated dynamics of pack politics, striving for peace and unity in a world often fraught with rivalry. As they face ongoing challenges, their friendship serves as a formidable foundation, reminding everyone that strength lies not just in power but also in the bonds we create with those around us. Their journey is a testament to the enduring power of loyalty and friendship in the ever-evolving landscape of werewolf society.

My coworker, Sloane, had a knack for turning brutal physical contact into her way of greeting.

She branded this as "American warmth" and an "outgoing personality."

At first, for the sake of office harmony, I assumed she was just clumsy and gritted my teeth to endure it.

That was until the incident in the breakroom. I had finally mustered the courage to discuss a design proposal with Liam, an engineer I had been secretly crushing on.

Out of nowhere, Sloane threw me into a chokehold masked as a bear hug, simultaneously driving her knee hard into the back of my legs.

Caught completely off guard, I lost my balance and lunged forward directly into Liam, practically ripping the buttons right off his dress shirt as I fell.

Instead of helping me up, Sloane gasped:

"Oh my god, Maeve! Look, I know you told me yesterday you dreamt of ripping Liam's shirt open, but you don't have to be so desperate in the office!"

Liam looked mortified.

Burning with humiliation, I scrambled to my feet, "Could you please keep your hands to yourself?!"

She jumped back, shouting even louder than I had. "Oh, come on! I was just trying to help you break the ice! Don't take it out on me just because you ruined it."

Heads turned across the entire bullpen. She doubled down, playing the victim with absolute righteous indignation:

"We are all adults here. If you can't even take a joke, who's ever going to want to work with you?"

My name is Kevin. At thirty years of age, I am blessed with a kind, beautiful, and alluring wife, known for her stunning figure, along with a joyful family. My greatest regret stems from a car accident that resulted in kidney damage, rendering me impotent. Despite being in the presence of my enchanting and insatiable wife, I find myself unable to achieve an erection.
My mother passed away early in my life, and my kind-hearted, strong father has taken on the role of caring for my children at home. Attempting countless remedies to regain normal erectile function has proved futile. One day, while browsing the internet, I stumbled upon adult literature involving a father-in-law and daughter-in-law, which inexplicably captivated and aroused me immediately.
Lying beside my peacefully sleeping wife, I began to superimpose her image onto the daughter-in-law character from the story, which aroused me to an extraordinary degree. I even discovered that imagining my wife with my father while pleasuring myself was more gratifying than being intimate with her. Realizing I accidentally unearthed Pandora's box, I acknowledge that there is no turning back from this newfound and uncontrollable excitement...

One month before my wedding, I was trying on the wedding dress I'd designed myself when a message from a friend popped up: [Diana, get over here! Your fiancé just lost at Truth or Dare and has to kiss your rival.]

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

She sacrificed a brilliant career to be his secret wife. But on their anniversary, he gifted his precious first love a $15M piano, while tossing her a dog-eared cookbook. In that moment, seven years of silent devotion died. The countdown began.

For thirty days, she watched his other woman move in. For thirty days, she endured his neglect and cruelty. She let them believe they had won. All while quietly securing the world-class career she once walked away from.

When the clock struck zero, she boarded the flight without a look back. He was left holding the empty life she built, finally screaming a name he never truly valued—into a silence she no longer cared to hear.

The Getty family went bankrupt, and her fiancé's family stood by coldly, offering no help. Rebecca Getty signed a contract and had a whirlwind marriage with her fiancé's uncle—Frederick Windsor.
After the wedding, Rebecca's only thought was to pay back the 100 million yuan with interest, set Frederick free, and let him be with his first love.
When she repaid 5 million yuan, Frederick's face darkened.
When she repaid 50 million yuan, Frederick left home for three days.
Finally, when she paid off the entire 100 million yuan, Rebecca was pinned against the wall by the man. "Divorce? Fine!!! I'll give you all my property, and I'll give myself to you too— the kind that follows you wherever you go!"
Rebecca: ……

Three months. That’s all I have left.
For years, I was nothing more than his invisible wife—cleaning up his messes, enduring his coldness, watching him love someone else.
Now I want freedom, not him.
But suddenly, he’s holding on… remembering my favorite meals, guarding me like I’m his last treasure, whispering for me to stay.
Too late. My heart has been shattered beyond repair.
And with the clock running out, love might not be enough to save me.

The most humiliating moment of my early life was when my father drove my mother and me out of our home. From a pampered heiress, I fell to the depths of a bar hostess. It was there that I encountered a man I would never forget for the rest of my life. After a one-night stand, I accepted his proposal—who could refuse someone they had admired for so long?

I thought I'd found redemption, but it turned out the pregnancy was a misdiagnosis! From then on, Raymond offered me nothing but money and sex. In this loveless marriage, I endured five years. Just when I thought my life would remain this way forever, he brought a little boy home.

Watching my stepsister's smug smile, my world crumbled. "Raymond, let's get a divorce!"

On the night of her anniversary, Renee was pushed into the sea by her husband and best friend, their betrayal disguised as an accident. They pretended to grieve at her funeral, but little did they know, even the Moon Goddess couldn't let it end that way. Renee was reborn.
This time, everything is different. The powerful, cold-hearted Alpha—her best friend's father—finds himself drawn to her in ways he never expected.
With a smile, he says to her "best friend," "Little angel, come meet your new mommy."

On the night of her anniversary, Renee was pushed into the sea by her husband and best friend, their betrayal disguised as an accident. They pretended to grieve at her funeral, but little did they know, even the Moon Goddess couldn't let it end that way. Renee was reborn.
This time, everything is different. The powerful, cold-hearted Alpha—her best friend's father—finds himself drawn to her in ways he never expected.
With a smile, he says to her "best friend," "Little angel, come meet your new mommy."

My husband is cheating, and my own family has betrayed me.
The woman he’s sleeping with? My own half-sister.
After countless nights lying in the dark, wondering what I was doing, I finally had to ask myself: is there any reason left to stay?
But my husband has become obsessed. He refuses to let me go, claiming, over and over, that he loves me.

He laid me on the sheets, climbed over me, caged me with his arms.
"Last chance to run," he said, voice low.
"I need the money," I whispered, feeling so tiny in his arms.
"You're soaking," he muttered. "Virgin or not, your pussy wants this."
I moaned, looking away, couldn't help it.
"Eyes on me, sweetheart," he pushed his tip in slowly.
"Fuck," he groaned. "So tight."
He fucked me like he was claiming something.
"Come for me," he whispered in my ears, moving faster.
"Damien," I cried out his name as I came.
"That's it," he growled.
After a long minute he pulled out slowly. "One night," he said again, almost like a reminder.
...
Weeks later, I walked through the quiet hall of my school. A massive portrait stared back at me.
Damien Blackwood
Principal Benefactor and Owner
Columbia University.
Same man who'd just taken my virginity for money.
My stomach dropped.
"Oh fuck... what have I done?"

"Should I kill you first, or should I kill your daughter and make you watch?"
"You love her."
Lucien laughed.
"Love? You think I love your daughter?"
My heart stopped.
"You were a means to an end, Davina."
"You should blame yourself for being so easy."
On her wedding day, Davina expected to become Lucien Bryant's bride.
Instead, she watched him murder her father, seize the Alpha title, and reveal that every promise, every kiss, and every moment they shared had been nothing more than part of his revenge.
Branded the daughter of a tyrant and imprisoned by the man she once loved, Davina vows to destroy Lucien, even if it costs her life.
But revenge becomes far more dangerous when fate binds them together as mates.
As buried secrets come to light, Davina discovers her father was never the hero she believed, and Lucien may not be the villain she swore to hate.
Then, just when she finally begins to question everything, another Alpha claims her before an entire ballroom.
"Lady Davina... You are my mate."
If Lucien isn't her fated mate...
Why does every heartbeat still lead her back to the man who broke her?

🔞🔞

"Your pussy is such a slut, little one." His deep baritone echoes as he trace a wet line through my clit.
"Yes, yes." I let out, my hips squirming as I cling to him. My professor.

“So…slimy with juices. My fingers ain’t even inside yet.” I swallow hard at his words, my face flushing red as my hunger grows. “Tell me, little one. How many fingers do you want inside you?”
“Two. Please give me…two, professor.” Is all I manage to say as he thrust two fingers inside me and immediately his eyes changed.


One minute Rain was nursing her heartbreak with several shots. The next she finds herself in an alley with a hot stranger. It was a long night of moans, thrust and need.
The morning Rain finds out the hot stranger from the previous night is her new professor. He's larger than life. One look at him shows he's power personified but there's this disturbing secret about him. Yet Rain is so much attracted she can't resist.
How long will it take her to figure out she's just a bait in a plot for revenge?