316 Book(s) Related to raiden's brother

The night before move-in, Vivian Owens’ housing collapses and her best friends betray her.

Her only lifeline? Crashing with her brother and his roommate —
Elias “Carter” Carter, the tattooed star point guard every girl wants.

One accidental aphrodisiac cookie night turns her into his willing little sub as he commands her

“Don’t stop, My Little Bubbles.”

But Carter’s gang past , a situationship with her own reconciled ex-best friend Kelly , draft pressure, and his own demons rip them apart again and again. Two pregnancies. Two brutal runaways. A jealous rival doctor who becomes a monster. Readers will scream at Carter, cry for him, and beg for more.

Some love don’t just break hearts — they start wars on and off the court.

Her hands slid up to his chest, palms flat, feeling the solid strength beneath his shirt. The fear didn’t vanish completely. But it quieted. Receded into the background. Logan’s thumb brushed her cheek, slow and grounding, as his other hand settled at her waist.

The kiss grew warmer. Slower. Logan felt it too, sharp and electric. His wolf stirred restlessly, recognizing something it shouldn’t, something it wanted to claim even as his mind warned him to stop. He broke the kiss first, breathing hard, forehead resting against hers.

“Emily,” he murmured, strained. “We should—” She didn’t let him finish. Her lips brushed his jaw, tentative, almost questioning. Her voice was barely a whisper. “Don’t send me away.”


After being betrayed forty-eight times by her mate, Oscar, Emily is drugged and offered to powerful wolves for his gain. Desperate and fleeing danger, she collapses into the arms of Lucas Walker, one of seven feared Alpha Brothers who rule the strongest pack. Drawn to her by an unstoppable pull, the brothers vow to protect her. But Emily’s past hides a darker secret, one that fate has bound to all of them.

In my past life, my brother-in-law predicted the coming of an extreme cold apocalypse and claimed he would awaken a spatial ability on the day it arrived.
I didn't believe him, but under pressure from my wife's family, I purchased supplies anyway. Then the frozen apocalypse actually came.
I thought we'd survive together as a family, but my brother-in-law had bragged about his spatial ability and massive supplies before awakening. When his ability manifested, the space was pitifully small, and everyone he'd told came to rob us.
When food ran out, my wife's family turned on me, killing and eating me.
Reborn, I've decided to take revenge on my wife's entire family. And it all starts with secretly building my own shelter.

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.

WARNING …. WARNING…. This isn't your regular werewolf romance. This novel is a bloody werewolf romance with rated scenes that you could find disgusting at any time. In case you do not have the heart to read it, please you can quit it. But at the same time, I'll be glad if y'all could support my first story.

Blurb

When a banished Luna became a slave to the most dangerous Three Alpha brothers. Ashina thought everything that was happening to her was just a mere dream, but little did she know it was never a dream but her reality.

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It all started on the night before her birthday When she suddenly received the doctor's reports that she was pregnant. How? When? Not when her husband, Alpha Ethan is an impotent man who has an extremely low sperm count. Secondly, the arrival of her stepsister, who happens to be her husband's long-awaited mate. Everything happened just the night before her birthday.

Ashina thought she didn't have anything to worry about since her husband had chosen her as his wife and cherished her a lot. She thought it didn't matter that her stepsister was her husband's mate.

While expecting the man to reject her stepsister, Jessica just like he said he would, instead she was the one that got rejected and banished from the pack.

“I, Alpha Ethan, reject you as my wife and banish you from the pack, Ashina!” Those were the words playing in her head when she left the pack and finally crossed the border with her maid.

But little does she know that there's more awaiting her when she finds herself begging for her life in front of the three most ruthless alpha brothers.

She's pregnant with my brother's baby. And if he doesn't marry her, I will.


It was Austin’s turn to seething with rage. “You are not aborting that child.” His voice echoed menacingly, animosity lingering in the air around them.

My body, my rules.” She shot back with an unbothered shrug.

“I don’t think you have much of a choice.” He barked. The idea of marriage and children had never crossed his mind. It wasn’t a part of his life plan. “I’d chain you to a bed for the entire nine months if I have too.”

She blinked, stupefied that he thought himself capable. “I think you forget who you are speaking too, Austin.” She pronounced his name with disgust. “You cannot scare or manipulate me into following along with your ideas.” Marriage? To Austin Demon Cyner? Now that was a delusion. “A stupid one at that.” She added, eyeing him meticulously.

“Marry me, Skylar. It’s a win-win; a marriage of convenience.” He’d cleared his throat and was taking long strides towards her. Suddenly the room felt too small to contain the sheer size of him.

“I severely dislike you, though. What am I winning exactly?” her feet were traveling backwards, unwilling to have her standing up too close to him.

“A stable home for your child,” the sound of his shoes tapping rhythmically in her ear “Our child.” He added on quickly, his voice low, compelling her to agree.

“I don’t recall you being in the room when it was made.”


Check out another story in the same collection: His Tempting Captive

He was my father's enforcer. My brother's best friend. The most dangerous man in any room he walked into.
He was the one person I was never supposed to want.

My brother disappeared in a pool of blood.
His best friend became my protector.

Enrico is a mafia enforcer, cold-eyed, ruthless, and built like a weapon. He doesn’t ask permission. He doesn’t explain. When men come to kill me, he doesn’t hesitate.

He takes me.

He says it’s protection.
He says it’s a promise to my brother.
But the way he watches me- hungry, possessive and unrelenting tells a different story.

Every touch is controlled. Every look burns.
The tension between us is sharp enough to cut—and when his restraint finally cracks, it’s devastating.

I shouldn’t want him.
He’s my brother’s best friend.
A killer.
A man who would destroy anyone who touches what he considers his.

But the deeper the secrets unravel, the more I realize the truth:

Enrico would burn the world for me.

Obsession. Desire. Blood-soaked loyalty.
This is not a love story for the faint of heart.

Because once Enrico decides you’re his…
You don’t get rescued.
You get claimed.

If you love dark, slow-burn romance where the danger is real and the love is harder to survive than the bullets, start reading. You won't stop.

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

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

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

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

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

But my suitcase had upgrade attributes!

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

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

I am the youngest Don of the Obsidian Family.
After an unexpected rest, my opponent sent me a street racing invitation.
I went to my brother's company to retrieve my car, but was drugged with ether by my brother's secretary.
She told me that no one could seduce her man.
She kicked my stomach, threatened me with a paper cutter to make a vow, and said her future sister-in-law is the youngest Don of the Obsidian Family—if I dared to retaliate against her, I would die miserably.
I looked at her coldly.
Really?
But I haven't agreed to be your sister-in-law yet!

I took the blame for my wife and went to jail, thinking I was protecting our family.

Five years later, when I was released from prison, my mansion was confiscated, my company fell into the hands of my younger brother, and the woman I loved with all my heart was nestled in my brother's arms, mocking my misfortune.

They had been having an affair for a long time, and even my imprisonment was a conspiracy meticulously planned by this despicable couple! What makes me even more furious is that my precious daughter was abandoned on the street like a stray dog, and subjected to beatings and bullying by their illegitimate son .

They thought that by draining my blood, they could forever condemn me to oblivion.

But they forgot that I was once an unparalleled genius in the business world.

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.

My fiancée, with whom I've been in a relationship for three years, has threatened to break off our engagement for the hundredth time, forcing me to donate a kidney to her adopted brother, who's faking illness and acting like a hypocrite.

My biological parents even threatened to sever ties with me: "You have a healthy body. Ian has nothing but us. You can't even bear to part with a kidney. You're so selfish and cold-blooded!"

They don't know that my hands, which I used to play the piano, had already been crushed by gangsters while cleaning up their mess; they also don't know that at this moment, I have a critical illness notice for late-stage bone cancer in my pocket.

Seeing the undisguised disgust and indifference in my fiancée's eyes, I swallowed the taste of blood in my throat and calmly signed the consent form for the live organ removal.

"Okay, I'll donate. I'll give you back my life along with it."

Later, I died like a dog on the rusty operating table of a shady clinic, my bones and marrow completely drained.

But when I was truly reduced to dust and left without even a complete corpse... the truth about my vicious foster brother faking illness was exposed.

The aloof and arrogant female CEO who once treated me like trash went completely mad overnight.

She knelt desperately before my nameless grave, plunged a sharp knife into her abdomen, and collapsed in a pool of blood, pleading for me to see her one more time.

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.

A gang boss ground my treasured staff into dust with one boot. “A gutter-bred bastard from the slums, and you’re hiding something this delicate? Cripple him. Let him learn who runs this turf.”
I stared at the silver-white powder on the floor. It was the last relic my brothers left me.
I once swore these hands would be used only to save people, never to kill again.
But today, even the heavens refused to allow it.
I lifted my head slowly. The elven ears I’d kept lowered in submission rose one by one in the dark, sharp as a wolf’s.
“You’re asking me who runs this turf?”
My fist snapped out and caved in the boss’s nose.
I twisted backhanded. Three elite enforcers had their bones shattered in an instant, collapsing like sacks of rotten meat.
I grabbed the boss by the throat with one hand and hoisted his two-hundred-pound body into the air, eyes cold as if I were staring at a corpse.
“Three years ago, when I laid down the rules in this district, you didn’t even know where you were playing in the mud.”
“My things are not for you to touch.”