3955 Book(s) Related to rejected my jaded love read online free

The main character get kidnapped by a rival pack and get saved by her two mates who are alphas of an allied pack with her father. they have a lot of struggles while getting to know each other including getting kidnapped a second time while pregnant The female shifter and her five mates will have many struggles including with their pups but they put their strength and loyalty to the test with many pack as they become the Alphas of Alphas and rule the entire Kingdoms and counsels.

I’ve loved Tristan for as long as I can remember. My best friend, my secret crush… and now, my stepbrother.

Living under the same roof should have been awkward. Instead, it’s terrifying. Every glance, every teasing word, every protective gesture makes my heart race. How can I resist him when he’s right there, closer than ever, and yet forbidden?

His hand slides up my thigh under the dinner table while our parents talk about wedding plans.

"Stop," I whisper, but my voice breaks on the word.

Damon leans close, his breath hot against my ear, his voice a low growl only I can hear. "Your heartbeat says you don't want me to stop, little wolf."

He's my stepbrother. My hockey captain. My Alpha. And the mate the Moon Goddess bound me to before I even knew I was a werewolf.

I spent years believing I was human. Then his golden eyes found mine across a crowded rink, and something inside me woke up—something hungry, wild, and desperate for him. Now we steal moments in the dark, his body pinning mine against locker room walls, his teeth grazing the spot on my neck where his mark belongs. One bite and I'm his forever. One slip and our families shatter.

But the bond doesn't care about consequences. It pulls me to his bed, to his truck, to the deep woods where he teaches me to shift and I teach him to be gentle. Every full moon, the ache to complete the bond gets worse. Every secret kiss tastes like a goodbye we're too weak to say.

And now there's a second heartbeat inside me. His pup.

The pack will call it an abomination. Our parents will call it a betrayal. But when Damon presses his palm to my belly and whispers, "You're mine, Sky. Both of you. Let the world burn," I know I'll risk everything for him.

Because some bonds aren't meant to be hidden. Some are meant to start a war.

What happens when the king of the school needs the one girl he once broke?

Elowen Bennett’s life has always been simple, quiet days, a small circle, and staying invisible enough to survive high school unnoticed. After a brutal betrayal by her boyfriend and her best friend, she’s done trusting people.

Especially him.

Alaric Hayes, the hockey captain, golden boy, and the same person who made her middle school years unbearable.

So when he suddenly wants her close… too close, it doesn’t make sense.

But Alaric isn’t doing this for fun.

Under his father’s orders, he needs something from Elowen, something tied to a dangerous past and a secret that could destroy both her and her mother. Getting close to her is just part of the plan.

Pretend to care. Gain her trust. Get the information.

Simple.

Until it’s not.

Because the more time he spends with her, the harder it becomes to remember this was never supposed to be real.

And when the truth finally comes out…

Elowen won’t just lose her heart.

She might lose everything.

PROLOGUE
WYNTER'S POV
I ran blindly through the bushes, looking back every few feet I got, the twigs scratched at me and the leaves roped round my feet but I didn't care. The owls were hooting loudly and mysteriously but I couldn't hear it, all I heard was the insane pounding of my heart.
I fell all of a sudden and wanted to bounce right back on my feet but the pain was more than I could ignore. I could hear their voices somewhere behind me and they were fast approaching mercilessly. I didn't even know when I let out a loud groan from all the pain i felt. I was injured and in a highly critical condition and was adding more injuries by the second.
My hair stuck to my scalp in cold sweat and my whole body shook in fear but I knew I had to keep moving. With all the strength in me, I rose to my feet with a gasp.
"She's over there! Get her!! No one's returning without getting her!!! And she's definitely not getting away!" The Leader screamed behind and I turned, taking another path crying as i went.
I stopped as blood flowed freely from my injuries. I needed to hide. I looked around frantically but there seemed to be nothing but tall trees i couldn't hope to climb. Then i felt it in my pocket, the shot I had taken before it all started. I brought out the syringe with shaking hands as tears ran freely down my face.
I held the needle to the vein on my arm knowing fully well that it could kill me as I was too weak for it. It was supposed to make me numb and cold for a few minutes but apart from

He was my father's best friend and my legal guardian. I mistook his obsessive control for protection—until the night of my eighteenth birthday, when he shattered that illusion in his study. For eight long years, I lived a double life: his pure, adopted daughter by day, and his dirty little secret by night.
I thought it was love. Then today, a Wall Street alert announced his engagement to a media heiress. While the world celebrated, I finally understood: he was capable of love; he just couldn't marry me.
Now, I've deleted every trace of our eight years together. Standing at the window, I held up my newly ringed finger to the surveillance car he sent to watch me.
"The game is over," I texted him. "P.S. I got married today. And you… you're the last to know."

I was supposed to be the avenger who would kill Vincenzo Romano, head of the Romano family, to settle the blood debt for my deceased lover Matteo. But I never expected to suffer a severe head injury at the crucial moment, losing my memory completely.

When I woke up, this "enemy" told me he was my fiancé and showered me with tender love and devotion during my amnesiac state.

But when my memory returned, the truth cut through my heart like a blade—I had actually fallen in love with the man who murdered my beloved! Even more terrifying, I was carrying his child in my womb...

Louis and I missed each other for five years before we finally reconciled.

But after only three years together, he passed away from cancer.

When I opened my eyes again, I had traveled back to the year when he hated me most.

Louis was saying harsh words to me, decisively breaking up:

"Emily. I never want to see you again."

I grabbed his collar and kissed him, cutting off whatever he was about to say.

Louis: ???

I said: "Even if we break up, we can still be friends with benefits, can't we?"

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.

"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!

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.

I was cursed, trapped in a "Trial of Sincerity"—I could only regain my freedom if she spoke the words "I love you" from the bottom of her heart.
For five years, I’ve taken bullets for her, gone to prison for her, and stood on the brink of death four times. She would only call me "my best friend" or say "I need you," but she never uttered those three words.
Four times, she abandoned me as I lay dying, rushing instead to the side of another man.
The fifth time, with a bullet in my abdomen and my insides exposed, I lay on the operating table. She finally wept, screaming "I love you"—once, twice... twelve times in total.
Too bad. After waking up from that fourth brush with death, I had already signed a Do-Not-Resuscitate (DNR) order.
This time, my heart has stopped beating. Not because of my wounds, but because I’ve made my choice: I won't let her save 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.

When The Wrong One Loves You Right
Enemies make the best lovers...

Evelyn Rodriguez needs to find who murdered her sister. But her only suspect is sexy as hell and every kind of wrong. Suddenly Evelyn's not sure if it's determination that's got her pulse racing–or something altogether less appropriate. Worse of all, she has to live under the same roof with him.

Supernova Jason Lyndon, burnt by experience and casual flings is torn between taking the offer of the man he despises the most or the woman that annoys him the most. Either way, he wasn't about to go to jail for something he didn't do. He realized too late chosing Evelyn's offer was a terrible idea. She didn't only arouse all his sexual antennas but started pulling down the firm wall– he's spent years building– around his heart.

CRIME. SUSPENSE. ROMANCE.

She was claimed.

She was broken.

Now they both want her back but this time she makes the rules.

Carols life was never her own.

First an Alpha who called her his fated mate raised her under his iron fist molding her into the perfect survivor.

Then a stranger with hypnotic blue eyes took her body and vanished without a trace.

Years later both men return.

One demands her absolute submission.

The other awakens a hunger she cannot suppress.

But they are both lying.

Because Carol is not just a pawn fought over by two powerful men.

She is the missing crown in a deadly game between werewolves and vampires.

Her blood holds the secret that could rewrite the war between species.

And the closer she gets to the truth

The more dangerous her desire becomes.

Loving either of them could destroy her.

Choosing neither?

A massacre will follow.

Unless she finds a third path.

Not as their mate. Not as their prey.

But as the hunter.

"I promise I didn't do anything that day". He cups my face and stares deeply into my eyes.
"I want to believe you but I can't". I place my hands on his. I close my eyes and let the tears fall.

I feel a soft kiss on my cheeks trailing down to my neck. His hands move up my back as he claims my lips in his. My tears flow freely. He pushes me to the wall gently and claim my lips again. I let my hands do what they have been itching to do and run my fingers through his soft hair.


When Isabel Díaz finds out about her boyfriend and soon-to-be baby daddy's betrayal on Christmas Eve, she packs up and leaves.
Two years later, she is unexpectedly transferred back to America. She later discovers that this is Jaxon Slade's doing. Moving back there right before Christmas feels like déjà vu.
Will the health of their child bring them together and allow him to redeem himself or will it drift them further apart?

Inks Game

Life was good, the club was at peace. I rode, I partied and I inked my art onto peoples skin.
But God it was boring.
Right up until Molly moved in next door. Sweet, beautiful and clearly hiding something, she came in like a wrecking ball and took us all by surprise.
We all wanted the single mum. We all made the bet.
But the more I learnt about her, the more I realised that this was a game I couldn’t afford to lose.
Friendships and loyalties might be tested, but I was playing for keeps.

Phantoms and Lies

I know what everyone says about me.
I’m broody but more than anything I know how to keep myself hidden.
Which makes me the perfect person to go and investigate the disappearance of one of my club brothers, sisters. I was to watch out for her sister and keep her safe until the other one could be found, that’s all.
No touching.
And definitely no falling in love.
But the more I watched Rancher's little sister, the harder that became because I was pretty sure Clara has a secret and it was going to blow everything apart.

(Dive back into the world of the Lost Reapers, catch up with old friends and fall in love all over again in this new exciting installment)

Cover designer RJ Creatives

"What the hell is this?! You were supposed to be dead five years ago, Olivia!" Hunter snarled, his rage sharper than any blade.
Olivia froze, her daughter’s tiny hand gripping hers. His words cut deeper than the accident that almost took her life. That night, the truth became undeniable—her husband had never loved her. He had only wished she stayed dead.
Once, Olivia Grace gave everything for Hunter Jackson. In return, she was humiliated at his birthday party, branded as nothing more than a maid, and abandoned when she needed him most. That night, she left him behind. Soon after, she discovered she was pregnant… only to face threats, captivity, and a car crash that left the world believing she was gone forever.
But Olivia didn’t die. She returned five years later, stronger than ever, with her daughter by her side—and with one goal: to reclaim her home, her dignity, and her life.
Now, the woman they thought was erased has come back for everything they stole. But in a world ruled by betrayal, blood, and power—who will truly have the last laugh?

“Dad… please… help me…” I pleaded, my shattered ribs piercing my lungs, blood soaking the stretcher.
But Richard, the hospital's top surgeon and my biological father, didn't even glance at me. Instead, he rushed to the next bed.
“Don't be afraid, Chloe. I'm here,” he cooed to his stepdaughter, who merely had a tiny scratch on her arm. “Get the best equipment over here now!” he roared.
As the heart monitor flatlined and my soul left my broken body, I realized the chilling truth: in the choice between life and death, my father gladly let me die.

In order to rush to comfort his assistant whose apartment was leaking, Richard signed his name hastily without even glancing at the documents on the table.
I put away the divorce agreement with a wry smile.
When he and my son completely disappeared, he finally panicked.
Three months later .
He knelt down on the streets of Chicago in despair, begging me to remarry him.
My six-year-old son looked coldly at his biological father and said, "Get lost, you bad uncle! You don't deserve to be my dad!"

I can't believe My dad will kick me out of my family to be a rouge. The werewolf world is very competitive but I never expected it to be this brutal from the moment I left my old pack border, it felt like deaths would befall me if I were a Rouge. It continued until I was half alive in the territory of another pack. Since I am a rouge trespassing is punishable by death but what if the alpha of this pack it's my mate .....?
Angus, Alpha of the crosswood pack. He is ruthless, cruel fierce, and a dominant wolf whose name strikes fear in the heart of other alphas because of his incredible strength and undeniable courage. When Angus found his mate in his territory, he was excited until he found out that she was a Rouge.

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.

"She was MINE before. How could I have known she would find another man so quickly?"
Dresden Wade was pretty sure the goddess was punishing him. Married for half a decade to his childhood sweetheart without a child, he is desperate for a chance to fight his wrongs when he sees her again.
His TRUE mate. The woman he scorned and humiliated all those years ago.
Except that now, she is standing holding hands with another Alpha.
Mara Reid wants nothing to do with the surly, arrogant Alpha that used to be her mate. He had made the earlier parts of her adulthood traumatic to say the least.
So why did meeting him again feel like coming home?
Why did her traitorous heart skip whenever he called her name?

I don’t believe for a second that Roman’s so-called “protection” is really for my sake. He keeps warning me about danger and enemies, trying to scare me off, but I refuse to back down. The pull between us is undeniable—intense, electric. I’d rather walk into the fire than let him go. Still, jealousy twists inside me whenever I think about Regina. I can’t help but wonder if Roman truly cares for me, or if I’m just another casualty in his chaotic world. The harder he pushes me away, the more determined I am to stay. Even if I’m scared, I have to take the risk—to see if I really matter to him.


"I'm sorry, for everything." His voice was sincere and his intoxicating breath brushed against my face and I staggered back a step. "I know I hurt you, though, that certainly wasn't my intention but I'm trying to protect you."
"Protect me from what?" I hissed.
"Me." He said coldly. He glared back. Finally provoked.
Are you kidding me? This was his excuse? Really? I rolled my eyes and stood up, my jaw clenched tight. "Can you at least try to be original?"
"Nuru, I can't be with you, not only is it not safe for you because in my job I piss a lot of people off," he insisted, speaking slowly. He sounded annoyed."...a third of those people want me dead, half of those would do anything to get to me — even go as far as hurt the people I care about." He shook his head with a grimace.
I wondered if I shouldn't be scared that people would want to hurt me if I continued to be in Roman's presence; instead I felt uncomfortable, the thought of staying away from him would hurt me more. The idea of abandoning Roman for a lifetime without him was repulsive to me. It made me sick. There was a connection between us I was sure only came once in a lifetime. I wouldn't leave him for anything. So why should this be any different? And a smile curved my lips. He'd admitted he cared about me — not in so many words, but still I felt a surge of pleasure.
"You had no problem with being with that stupid girl, Regina," I mumbled, wondering how much of my anxiety he could read. How much of my jealousy.
His face turned cold, expressionless. "You can't seriously compare this, us... to what I shared with"

Humans aren't supposed to survive carrying a vampire's child. The immortal blood drains you dry.

Valentine was a pureblood vampire Duke. I was just a mortal. But I was stupid enough to think love was stronger than biology.

Four years ago, I tore myself apart on the birthing bed to bring a half-blood into this world, only to wake up staring at Valentine’s back.

His late father’s favorite concubine, Cecilia, had already snatched my baby from the cradle. And my husband acquiesced to it all.

"He looks just like me," Cecilia purred, tracing my newborn's cheek. "Thank you for giving birth to my son."

Then she tossed a blood jade onto my sheets, like I was some cheap baby-making machine.

I didn't take the payoff. I grabbed the heavy stone and hurled it straight at Valentine’s face.

For four agonizing years, I fought to get my baby back. I hired mercenaries, rogues, and shadow-smugglers, bleeding myself dry to breach the Duke’s estate. Every single attempt failed.

Until tonight. A terrified servant smuggled out a whisper that stopped my heart: Cecilia had fed my son "diluted holy water"—a twisted sacrament meant to literally burn the human half out of his organs.

I didn't hire anyone this time. I tore through the gates myself. I took a guard’s spear through the shoulder and let cursed brambles shred my arms to the bone, just to drag my dying boy out of a burning greenhouse.

But when the agonizing pain of the holy water woke him, Luke looked at me with pure, unadulterated disgust.

"It’s your fault! It’s your filthy human blood!" My four-year-old son spat the words like venom. "Mother Cecilia says if we just burn out this curse, I can be the true heir! If it weren't for you, Father would have claimed me by now! I hate you!"

I froze.

When I finally spoke, my voice was a raw, inhuman scrape. "Call me Mom one last time, and I'll walk out of your life forever."

For seven years, I told myself James wasn't cold; he simply loved quietly. Then my car died after midnight, and he told me to call a cab. When I earned the promotion I had chased for two years, he forgot my message. But when his ex said she felt sick, he left work with medicine in one hand and her exact coffee order in the other. That was when I understood: my husband knew how to care. He had simply never chosen to care for me. By our anniversary, I would stop waiting, leave his gift on the table, and move out. Only then would James begin to love me—and by then, it would be too late.

Fourteen years I gave him.
Every storm I shielded him from.
Every mess I cleaned up for him.
I made him a king of Manhattan.
On my forty-second birthday, he brought my enemy's daughter to my party.
He forged my medical records.
He tried to strip me of my trust.
He thought I was done.
He forgot one thing: I made him.
And I have a son he never knew existed.

"Someone is right behind you."
It's the most common comment I get in the chat during my late-night streams.
But when that exact phrase abruptly hijacked my screen, spammed in bold, blood-red letters, my blood ran completely cold.
Because deep down, I knew. This time, they weren't joking.
It was real.

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.