4263 Book(s) Related to my surprise mate by m.o. free pdf

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

I've been able to see clocks above people's heads since the day I was born. As long as the hands keep moving, the bond between us is still alive.

Once the hands spin backward and stop at zero, that bond is finished.

When I was seven, the clock over my best friend's head just stopped one day. She drowned in the reservoir the next morning.

When I was fifteen, my grandfather's clock started ticking backward, slower and slower, until it stopped completely. He died peacefully in his sleep that same night.

When I was eighteen, my father, a drunk who lied about everything, slammed the door on his way out. I watched his clock vanish completely and knew right then he was never coming back.

Ever since, clocks scare me. I'm always afraid of watching someone I love get taken away from me.

So I keep my head down, holding on tight to the quiet, stable life I've fought so hard for.

Then tonight, I watch the clock above Marcus Hargrove's head start spinning backward.

What scares me even more is Willow's clock doing the same thing.

While I'm still trying to figure out why, the storm hits that night. He walks out on his daughter while she's burning up with fever and having convulsions, and runs straight to another woman.

His clock jumps back another notch.

"I gave Julian Sterling everything: my love, my loyalty, and the child I carried in my womb. In return, he watched my best friend push me down a flight of stairs and did nothing as I lost my baby.

Now, my brother is behind bars for a crime he didn’t commit, and my husband is demanding I sign a lie to protect the woman who shattered my life. He thinks I’m a broken bird with clipped wings. He thinks I have nowhere left to turn.
He’s wrong.

Julian forgot one thing about the woman he married.

I’ve called my father. I’ve set the clock. I have seven days to play the grieving wife before I strip Julian of his fortune, his name, and his freedom.

The countdown to his ruin starts now.

On my wedding day, my mother walked in and took my gown off the rack. Then she handed it to Coralie — the sister my parents adopted, the one I've given half my magic to every month for five years.
The High Priest says my stars are cursed. So Coralie will marry Roland in my place. My fiancé. The man I nearly died healing.
My father tells me to think of the bigger picture. Roland won't even look at me. Not one of them looks back as they leave me alone in that room.
They think I'll stand here and take it, like I always have.
They don't know about the black whistle in my sleeve — the one a dying man pressed into my hand at the edge of the Abyss. Blow it, he said, and I'll come for you.
I've been good for too long.
I'm done.

“Why is Elara dying on my stream?”

Sienna Vale laughed in front of half a million viewers while my heroine glitched on-screen, wearing the ring I designed and speaking the line I wrote.

Caleb didn’t ask if I was okay. He shoved the emergency laptop toward me and said, “Fix it before the investors panic.”

So I opened the live build.

But instead of saving his launch, I patched one line into the game credits:

Created by Maya Reed.

My Alpha husband made me miscarry seven times—using our children to save his Omega first love.

Each so-called fertility tonic left me permanently infertile.

I once thought he might love me, even just a little—until the pack uncovered photos of his Omega, from girlhood to now.

Even when I caught them together, all I got… was abuse. I need a revenge, to all of you.

Halfway through my wedding, just as I was about to vow eternal love to my childhood sweetheart, Alpha Derick, the doors swung open, and his beta—Rebecca Guzman—strode in.
Pregnant.
The hall fell silent, the weight of her presence pressing down on everyone.
Derick, my fated mate—the boy I had cherished since we were kids—barely reacted. Instead, he stepped toward her, steadying her with a tenderness that should have been reserved for me. It was as if she were the one in the white dress, as if this were her moment.
Then, without the slightest hint of remorse, he declared, “I know I can’t formally marry Beta Rebecca, but I promised her a wedding. Our pup deserves a whole family.”
His next words were like ice in my veins. “From this day forward, she will also be my Luna. You must treat the pup in her belly as if it were your own.”
A shiver ran through me, sharp and unforgiving.

Dad was in critical condition and had just been wheeled into the operating room.
My husband—also Dad’s attending surgeon—was nowhere to be found.
I stood in the corridor in my pajamas until past midnight, hands shaking as I kept calling Jason.
When the call finally connected, a sweet, girlish voice spilled through the speaker:
"I’m watching the Eiffel Tower lights with Jason!"
A male voice followed, impatient and familiar—Jason’s:
"Is it her again? Ava, tell her to stop calling. The lights are about to go out. Can she stop making a scene?"
A chill sliced through me. Before I could speak, the line went dead.

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.

Warning: Contains strong language, smuts, abuse and some really explicit content, please read at your risk. "Let go of me…" Arabella said. She grimaced, shaking her head. "Do you think I would let you go so easily?" He questioned, then tutted. Sandro's nostrils flared as he sniffed her hair wrapped in his hands, Vanilla and Strawberry. The innocent yet naughty scent he remembered her with. "That would never happen, Cara Mia." Arabella gasped as Sandro pressed his body into hers. She moved to shove him away but he grasped her hands and pinned them above her head before pointing the gun at her temple. Arabella shut her eyes tightly as the gun cocked. She inhaled and bit her tongue whilst saying her last prayer inwardly. She wanted to run far away from him. Away from the surface of the earth if possible. But she was certain no matter how far she went, he was going to find her. ------------------------------------- Arabella's life took a u-turn after falling into her enemy's hand. She should feel nothing for him, however. He made her lose all her senses, even her clothes. At the mercy of her foe, she discovers some secrets about him and wishes to unravel more, but got what she didn't bargain for. Alessandro, an Alpha werewolf assuming the identity of a mafia Lord. He was the most wanted criminal in COOAN, and his name incites fear in all werewolves' packs. He was a man fighting his demons and needs a saviour before he drowns. After a traumatic childhood event that left him scarred, Blaze often kept to himself and trusted no one until he met Arabella, whom he believed was the perfect mate sent to him by the moon's goddess. However, she was taken. The powerful urge to save her from her...

My boyfriend's mistress deliberately gave me a strawberry cake that I'm allergic to.
After I went into anaphylactic shock and had a miscarriage, I knew it was all over.
But when I left it all behind and went back to my hometown, he showed up at my door telling me to quit throwing a fit, that he still loved me.
This kind of love full of betrayal?
I don't want it.

Congratulations, Mrs. Miles, you're pregnant with quadruplets!
Estella Miles, after years of emotional turmoil, is overjoyed to learn she’s expecting two boys and two girls. Married for five years to a renowned billionaire capitalist, Cameron, she rushes home to share the news as the perfect birthday surprise. But her world shatters when Cameron, unmoved by the pregnancy reveal, tears up the test results and serves her divorce papers. In a cruel twist, he replaces her with her twin sister, Riana.
A heated confrontation between the sisters lands Estella unconscious in the hospital where she works. There, she’s saved by a charismatic, sexy doctor—who also happens to be her boss, the billionaire owner of the hospital. As sparks fly, Estella finds herself falling for the man who mends her broken heart.
Meanwhile, Cameron uncovers Riana’s deception—she’s scammed him and fled, leaving him to grapple with the truth about Estella’s pregnancy and his grave mistake. Determined to win her back, he vows, “I must find her.”
Will Estella forgive her ex-husband and rekindle their past, or will she surrender to the passionate connection with her billionaire doctor boss, whose touch ignites undeniable chemistry?

"Tell me I'm sexy," I whispered, grabbing Ryder Lancaster's shirt. "Tell me you want me... even if I'm your nephew's wife."
Ryder's jaw tightened. "Iris... if you keep looking at me like that, I won't stop."
On their third wedding anniversary, Iris catches her husband in bed with his male assistant. The man who claimed he couldn't touch her was never sick. He married her only to hide that he was gay, steal her late father's company, and abandon her after taking everything she owned.
Heartbroken, Iris ends up in the bed of the last man she should ever want... her husband's powerful uncle.
Ryder offers her a wager.
Three days.
If Iris calls him first, she belongs to him on his terms. If she doesn't, he'll walk away forever.
Iris is certain she'll win.
Ryder is certain she'll lose.
But every step Iris takes to reclaim her father's company and destroy the man who betrayed her pushes her closer to Ryder, bringing their forbidden affair dangerously close to the light.
When every secret is finally exposed, will Iris reclaim her father's empire... or lose her heart to the one man she was never supposed to love?

My fiancée Chloe dumped me, a veteran, for Seth's multi-million dollar fortune. As she left, she threw $100,000 at me with contempt in her eyes.
Little did I know that while I was using the money to stockpile weapons and food and upgrade the steel fortress, she and Seth were squandering it all in their luxurious villa.
Seven days later, the zombie outbreak occurred. I was enjoying steak and red wine in the fortress, while that despicable couple was slapping each other over a mouthful of dirty water in the ruins.
Thanks to my ex-girlfriend's generous sponsorship, I lived like a king in the apocalypse.

The day I achieved telepathic breakthrough, I heard my fiancée's inner voice telling me to "get lost."
In the restaurant, she abandoned me as I coughed up blood to embrace another man.
I signed the death contract for the meat grinder frontline, determined to die, but when bone spikes pierced through my chest, my telepathy revealed the truth—she pushed me away not because she didn't love me, but because she had been bitten by a zombie three years ago.

When I woke up from the car accident, the calendar had jumped to five years later.
who suddenly appeared out of nowhere , was flirting with her lover on the sofa right in front of me, and then threw her credit card in my face: "Useless thing, from today onwards, go earn your own money."
I glanced at my watch and signed the divorce agreement, agreeing to leave with nothing.
Half an hour later, the director of Patek Philippe arrived at my door carrying a royal rare watch and bowed respectfully: "Young Master Stirling, the family welcomes you back."
She froze. I put on my watch and walked out the door without looking back.
Later she realized that when I left with nothing, it wasn't because I had nothing at all, but because I didn't care about what she had.

In order to prolong the life of my supposedly sick "white moonlight" (my love interest), my wife forced me onto the operating table and removed my kidney while I was still alive.

To force me to leave with nothing, she even cut off my mother's medication, coldly declaring, "Your mother is just a liability that deserves to be optimized."

She thought I would wag my tail and beg for mercy like a stray dog.

Little did she know, suffering from single kidney failure, I transformed myself into the deadliest viral code before my death, dragging her business empire and that male mistress into an inescapable hell.

On the day the truth came to light, the once-powerful tech queen went completely mad. She squandered her fortune, kneeling in the frost of the morgue, kowtowing and weeping blood, begging me to look at her one last time. But she couldn't find a single hair of mine.

Because I had already made a will, ordering my remains to be cremated as high-risk medical waste.

She treated me like dirt when she was alive, and after she died, I found her disgusting and didn't even bother to leave her a handful of ashes.

In the previous life, the game descended into reality, the laws of the virtual world tore the sky apart, and top players became gods of the new world.
The day before the game's release, I helped Julian acquire the top-tier item, the Absolute Defense Ring, only to have his account stolen and all his equipment taken away by him and my fiancée .
After the game started, they threw me into the horde of rotting corpses like trash , stepped on my bones to become emperors, and lived happily ever after, while I was devoured to death by the rotting corpses .
In this life, I am reborn three days before my arrival . I will use Julian's money to clear the dungeon, steal his top-tier items, and then, in the apocalypse of the game where monsters and skills materialize , at his most inflated coronation ceremony, I will personally tear apart his ridiculous absolute defense and take the lives of all the traitors.

I was once the adopted son of Eric Miller, the Don of the Miller Family.
My future was supposed to be simple—loyal to the Don, respected by the Family, destined to inherit power.
But I carried a secret that turned me into a freak in his eyes.
A forbidden love.
When Eric found the diary where I had hidden my feelings for him, I cried and apologized again and again.
It didn’t matter. The disgust in his eyes never changed.
He sent me away—exiled to a remote country under the watch of his men.
From there, I heard the news of his wedding.
I saw the way he looked at Julia—soft, full of love. And in a moment of madness, I spent every last dollar I had and flew to Thailand for gender reassignment surgery.
Nights after the surgery were filled with pain from the silicone implants pressing against my skin.
But even after becoming a woman, I still couldn't win Eric’s love.
Just when I finally let him go, he suddenly bought me a ticket back to America.
He said he wanted me to attend his fifth wedding anniversary with Julia.
And when he saw Lily in my arms, he froze.
“Your daughter?”

I was dying. To buy myself just a few more days, I had no choice but to sell my body for medicine money.
I never expected the man who bought me was Michael. My ex-husband.
He threw the cash in my face, humiliated me, forced me through every degradation he could think of.
All because he hated me for leaving when he was critically ill.
What he never knew was that, the heart beating in his chest…
Was mine.

I bled to death on a cold hospital bed, my unborn child gone, all because I took a shift for my coworker.
Heaven granted me a second chance. I opened my eyes, sitting safely at my office desk. Before I could shake off the nightmare, Vanessa clicked her heels toward me.
"Claire, can you cover for me at the investor party tonight? It’s my anniversary with my boyfriend."
In my past life, I agreed, only to be locked in a private room by monsters and tortured to death. This time, I looked her in the eye. "No."
Vanessa was stunned. Because of my refusal, she missed the crucial meeting and was mercilessly fired by the director.
I thought I had escaped hell and saved her life too. But when I got home to my loving husband, I realized the true nightmare had just begun...

My husband and I couldn’t get pregnant after we got married, and we really wanted a baby of our own,

We tried IVF, and after three failed rounds I finally got pregnant,

But then my husband and my parents suddenly started pressuring me to get an abortion...

A falling rock woke my mind.
Three years of companionship ultimately could not withstand the white moonlight.
Once, twice, three times...
All the way to the thirty-six false proposals that paved the way with hypocritical warmth.
Shattered beneath the stage light rig.
In the excruciating pain of amputation, I saw clearly my lover's cowardice and betrayal.
And the final multimedia message became the straw that broke the camel's back.
The thirty-seventh proposal, I took the initiative.
After lying low in Oceania for five years, I was reborn as a business elite, with a sky of my own.
He deeply regretted it, even risking his life to repay me.
But I was long past the point of no return.

I've been married to billionaire Joseph Miller for three years. Pregnant three times. Aborted three times.

Every time, my husband stood outside the operating room, watching them wheel me in.

The first baby, my mother-in-law Victoria said had spinal deformities. The second, my father-in-law Richard showed a "report" claiming heart defects.

I believed them. I thought it was my fault, something wrong with my body.

Until the third pregnancy.

This time I secretly went to another hospital—DNA showed 99.9% match with Joseph, every prenatal indicator perfect.

I rushed home clutching the report, thinking I could finally save my child.

Victoria glanced at it and tossed it on the coffee table. "You are carrying a healthy baby. But the Miller family doesn't need it."

My in-laws forcibly dragged me to the clinic. I screamed to Joseph for help: "That's your child!"

His eyes were red, but he still let them kill my baby.

Desperate, I demanded a divorce. He coldly refused, tearing at my clothes: "Stop being dramatic. Time for the fourth."

I finally understood—I wasn't his wife. I was their breeding machine.

But why? Why force me to keep getting pregnant, only to kill every healthy baby?

Until that night, I pushed open the attic door that had been locked for three years—

And finally understood everything.

The day I received my medical report and found out I was pregnant, my husband—Alpha Godfrey Hansen—held a small wedding ceremony in the hospital garden with his first love and former mate, Gillian Boyd.
He explained, “Her final wish in this life was to be my bride.”
But what about me?
What was I to him? A replacement?
It finally hit me—ten years of unwavering devotion and sacrifice meant nothing compared to a single tear shed by his first love.

Before the wedding, my fiancé, Alpha Kendrick, stood in front of me. Hesitation flickered in his eyes, but so did hope.
“Can you give me a month?” he asked, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it.
A month. Time to see if he could patch things up with Elena Manwaring—his ex-girlfriend. His fated mate.
“If it works out,” he continued, the words deliberate, like he was convincing himself as much as me, “then it’s the Moon Goddess’s blessing. But if it doesn’t… I’ll come back. I’ll marry you. And I’ll leave her behind—forever.”
He meant it. He truly believed this was the honorable thing to do.
I didn’t argue. I didn’t cry. Instead, I let a small, knowing smile tug at my lips.
“Go ahead,” I said, my voice calm and steady. “Give it a try. Life’s too short for regrets, right?”
Relief broke over his face like a wave, as though I’d just untangled him from a chain he hadn’t known how to break. That night, he drove off, lighter than I’d seen him in months.
Meanwhile, I packed my bags in silence.

When I woke up, I realized I’d lost my memory.

The maid told me Leno was my husband.

His face felt strangely familiar, but whenever he got close, my body resisted him for no reason at all.

Not until midnight, when I overheard Leon talking to a man, did I learn the truth—my real husband was Gaius.

He was the one who had a doctor drug me into amnesia so he could fool around with Flora… and he even had Leon pretend to be my husband.

At the victory banquet, I saw Gaius and Leon standing together—and realized they had identical faces. That’s when I understood why Leon’s expression never matched the one in the photos.

And my husband had no idea I’d already uncovered everything. He was openly flirting with Flora right in front of everyone.

Then came the party games. I lost and had to take a punishment. Everyone waited for me to choose Gaius. Leon suggested kissing someone for a full minute—so I wrapped my arms around his neck and said, “Of course I’ll kiss my husband.”

His kiss was de

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

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

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

She thought she was human—until she drowned.

She wakes in the body of a missing selkie princess in a hidden island kingdom… and quickly realizes she’ll be executed if anyone discovers the truth.

The only person who knows? Her guard—cold, loyal, and furious she’s taken the place of the woman he was sworn to protect.

When her unstable shifting magic reveals something impossible—both selkie and tideborn blood—he’s forced to keep her secret… because exposing her would destabilize the crown.

Now, bound by duty and necessity, they must secretly search for the real princess—before her magic exposes them both.

The legendary general Victor was sentenced to death, and everyone thought he had already been buried in the grave.
Until a phone call came through ,
"Dad, help!... They took Mom away."

"Turn around. I want to fuck you."
I blinked. "What?"
"I said turn...around."
Before I could speak again, he had me on my stomach, face buried in the sheets. I could smell the heat of myself in the fabric. His weight hovered behind me, knees against the bed, strong thighs pressed to the outside of mine, holding me still. My skirt was hiked up around my waist. I wasn’t wearing anything underneath.


Kristen Lockwood never expected to fall for her father's best friend. She only met Leo Moretti after her father’s death, when a stranger on a motorcycle showed up with a scar across his knuckles, a gun under his jacket, and eyes that looked at her like she was already dangerous.
He says he’s here to protect her, that it’s what her father wanted. But he watches her too closely, speaks too little, and sets rules she can't help but break. He acts like touching her would ruin them both.

The worst part is, she wants him to.

Leo Moretti is the leader of the Bloodhounds, a supernatural biker gang that guards the borders between worlds. He never met Kristen until now, never even knew she existed and definitely didn’t expect her to come crashing down his walls with her presence.
Now every moment between them feels like something waiting to snap. She wants to get under his skin. She wants to see what happens when he finally loses control. She wants to see how far he can go before he slams her into his bed.

Leo is not allowed to want her.

But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t.

Warning: Contains strong language, graphic sexual content, supernatural violence, and dark themes. Recommended for mature audiences only.

Five years ago, I knelt on marble floors, cleaning wine with my own dress while they laughed.

Five years later, they knelt before me, begging for forgiveness while I walked away.

They thought three hundred thousand dollars could buy my soul. They thought I was just another disposable substitute, another broken girl desperate enough to sell her dignity for her dying mother's medical bills.

Caspian Ashford wanted a replacement for his precious Scarlett. The Hampton elite wanted a servant to humiliate. They all wanted me to disappear quietly when they were done with me.

They got their wish—I did disappear.

But the girl who drowned in that yacht "accident" five years ago? She was weak, desperate, powerless.

The woman who returned as Elena Whitman?

I'm their worst fucking nightmare.

In my past life, I was cheated on.
My wife is having an affair with my fitness coach, and even our five-year-old daughter isn't my child.
I filed for divorce, and she left with nothing. I thought my life couldn't get any worse—but then the apocalypse came, and I was bitten to death by zombies.
In her last moments before she died, I saw her family of three nestled in her lover's secluded mountain cabin, with plenty of food and drink, passing away peacefully in their old age.
God gave me a second chance.
Back on the day we signed the divorce papers, I smiled and said to my ex-wife, "You can have the villa, but I want Julian's dilapidated cabin."

Six months ago, a yacht explosion consumed everyone I loved: my husband Leonard, my parents, and my brother.
I escaped only because of stomach pain that kept me from boarding. My adopted sister Claire became the sole survivor.
Since then, I've become an empty shell.
Even after being diagnosed with terminal uterine cancer, even while carrying my late husband's child, I've endured the agony of chemotherapy alone, exhausting what little strength remains to scrape together money for Claire—who hides away in a private care facility, claiming severe PTSD.
Until this winter day, with a blizzard approaching.
Dragging my dying body to my husband's memorial to pay respects, I discovered a credit card statement—charges made three months after his death.
Following the address on that receipt, I pushed open the door of a luxurious suburban villa.
Inside, it was warm as spring. My parents and brother, who should have been at the bottom of the ocean, stood there perfectly alive.
At the center of the room, my husband—the man I'd grieved for day and night—was kissing my adopted sister, his lips tender against hers.
The whole family was celebrating, raising glasses to toast the infant cradled in Claire's arms—barely a month old.
There had never been any disaster at sea.
It was all a meticulously planned hoax—their twisted way to erase me from their lives forever.

I died on the barren wasteland in a raging blizzard.
Before my death, many from the pack came to say goodbye.
Even Seraphina, my lifelong rival, came.
Only Kael, my Alpha mate of five years, was absent.
He was with that rogue Jennifer, watching the moon's reflection in Silver Moon Falls.
In my final moments, I received his mind-link.
"When the Moon Goddess guided me to find you as my fated mate, you were just a Beta. To inherit the Alpha position, I had no choice but to choose you. All these years I've been giving you suppressants, forbidding you from getting pregnant, and you agreed to it all. You've been a competent Luna."
"If there's a next life, I'll still choose you. In this life, rest in peace. I'll personally arrange your funeral."
Sensing this mind-link, my rival Seraphina sneered mockingly: "Karolyn, you really weren't cut out to be a Luna."
"In the next life, don't compete with me anymore."
Her words proved prophetic. When I opened my eyes again, we had both returned to the day of the Darkwood family's mate selection ceremony.
Kael said coldly: "Karolyn, the Moon Goddess has chosen you as my fated mate. You will be Darkwood's Luna."
Without hesitation, I stepped back and pointed to Seraphina.
"I think the Luna position is better suited for Seraphina."

When my younger brother got into a top university, the whole family celebrated for him.
I, suffering from a terminal illness, clutched my chest and desperately cried for help, only to be met with a disgusted slap from my mother and the words, "You just can't stand to see your brother doing well!"
She thought I was a spoilsport, so she roughly dragged me back to the room and locked the door from the outside.
She didn't know that those were the last words I ever heard in my life.
The next morning, she opened the door with breakfast in hand, only to find my corpse.

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

I spent five years letting men degrade me at a club, all to save $300,000 for my blind brother Joren's eye surgery.
The day I finally raised the money, I excitedly told him he would be able to see again—only to discover he was never blind to begin with.
My husband’s "bankrupt" company had been thriving all along. My parents, who supposedly died in a plane crash, had been living luxuriously abroad.
My husband even took my "stillborn" daughter and gave her to my adopted sister.
My entire family conned me for five years to "teach me a lesson"—all because my adopted sister claimed I bullied her.
Now, they are forcing me to donate my liver to the woman who stole my life, threatening that I'll never see my biological daughter again if I refuse.
But what they don't know is that I have terminal liver cancer, and I only have two days left to live...

I was diagnosed with hemophilia when I was ten years old.
At first, my parents were terrified. They watched me closely, rushed me to the hospital over every bruise, every nosebleed. I was the fragile one—the child who needed saving.

Then years passed.
They got used to it.
They got tired.

By the time my twin sister was graduating and my family was finally breathing again, I was about to turn eighteen.
And that night, while everyone believed I’d be fine like always, I bled to death.

After two years of marriage, I finally got pregnant. I rushed to my husband's office with lunch to share the news, but his assistant mistook me for a sugar baby trying to trap the CEO. She dragged me into a back room and dumped scalding coffee on my head. When I tried to explain I was the wife, she laughed and called security. They stripped my clothes, kicked my stomach repeatedly, and destroyed my ultrasound photo. I begged them to call my husband, but they smashed my phone instead. By the time he found me, our baby was gone.

After ten years of marriage, my fated mate, Alpha Harvey, had slept with nearly every female worker in the Silver Claw Packhouse.
When I was seven months pregnant, his newly kept mistress, Yvonne Robson, offended the Alpha of the Eclipse Pack at a celebration banquet. Badly.
"Jasmine, you, kneel and apologize on her behalf."
The entire banquet hall fell silent.
I blinked at him, sure I had misheard. "Excuse me?"
"She's young," he said impatiently, as if this were a minor inconvenience. "She made a mistake. You're the Luna. You need to fix it."
I placed a hand over my swollen belly, my wolf snarling inside me. "I'm pregnant, Harvey. How can I kneel? What if it hurts the pup—"
He cut me off harshly. 'It's just kneeling. You've never acted so delicate before.'
He dragged me forcefully to Alpha Kenneth.
Then, before I could react, Alpha Harvey shoved me down, forcing my head toward the ground.
Pain shot through my knees as they hit the floor.
And then—a sharp, wet sensation beneath me.
M

As I sat in the police station with Yvonne Harper, my boyfriend’s childhood sweetheart, waiting for bail arrangements to be made, the decision loomed.
One of us could go home tonight.
My mate, Alpha Jackson, chose to take her.
"Nicole, just wait for me one more night. I’ll come back for you tomorrow," he said.
He was worried about her fragile health, but he didn’t care about my fear of the dark.
Later, I called him. My voice was steady, though my heart ached.
"Jackson," I began, "for the past few years, I’ve been waiting for you."
"But I won’t wait forever."