5171 Book(s) Related to diaries of a hybrid and her mate

In a modern city of flights, glass hotels, and surveillance footage, Nora—an artist still recovering from surgery—watches her marriage rot behind polished excuses. As she traces her husband’s affair through airport selfies, joint-account charges, voice recordings, and a staged fall on the stairs, humiliation hardens into precision. Cold, sharp, and deeply satisfying, this is a divorce reckoning lit by rain, evidence files, airport confrontations, and the moment a woman stops begging to be chosen.

My boyfriend hated the new freshman, Lila.
She followed him everywhere from day one, and he’d complain to me nonstop.
“Want me to get her kicked out? My dad can write a check and make it happen.”
I laughed it off. “Cocky much?”
He nudged my shoulder. “You really not scared I’ll get taken?”
Please.
We were childhood sweethearts, bound by family and our upcoming competition duet.
Her cheap, desperate act? I never saw it as a threat.
I had no idea how wrong I was.

Ten years loving Liam Rockefeller cost me everything.

He said the football team jumped him—so I charged in and took the punches. He sobbed that his stepbrother would destroy him at Yale—so I ripped up my acceptance letter. He held me at midnight whispering "I'm so lucky to have you"—and I thought that meant forever.

Three months later, I heard him laughing in the locker room—laughing about me.

"Iris is like a fucking puppy, so easy to fool. Now that the Yale spot's open, Emily can go with me."

The bullying was staged. The tears were fake. Those intimate embraces—just tools to control me while he fucked his side piece.

He thought I'd still stand in front of him even with a broken nose. He thought I'd never wise up.

I wised up.

In his stepbrother Sebastian's bed.

For five years, I had turned Preston Tanner from a broke kid who could barely afford tuition into one of Silicon Valley's hottest young founders.
I thought we would do exactly what we had promised back in that garage—take our AI healthcare startup public, ring the opening bell together, and get married.
Until today.
At the product launch that would determine whether we landed our Series A, Preston stood before the press and credited the core algorithm patent I had spent seventy-two sleepless hours developing to a girl who couldn't even write Python.
"Sloane, you're already my fiancée," he said. "Willow needs this patent to strengthen her green-card application."
Staring at his utterly self-righteous face, I felt sick.
I didn't know when it had happened, but somewhere along the way, he had rotted from the inside out.
And if he was rotten, it was time to throw him away.

Since I was ten, he told me to call him brother. But brothers don't look at you like that.
My life had only Daniel Wilson in it. He was my guardian, my savior, my world.
"Call me brother," he said, but he forbade me from dating anyone else. He kept me in his manor like a bird in a gilded cage. He promised that when I turned twenty-one, the title of "sister" would change to "wife."
I waited. I obeyed. I loved him with a devotion that bordered on obsession.
But on my twenty-first birthday, he brought her home.
"Julie, meet Lena. She's... special to me."
He introduced his childhood crush to me, his "sister," while holding her hand. The way he looked at her was soft, gentle—the way he used to look at me before she arrived.
"You're just a foster sister," he reminded me coldly when I cried. "Don't cross the line."
The line? He blurred the lines for twelve years! He made me dependent on him, made me believe we were destined, only to discard me when the "real" owner of his heart returned.
Fine. If I'm just a sister, then I'll leave.
But why is he chasing me now, begging me to come back, saying he can't sleep without me in the house?
"I'm not your sister anymore, Daniel. And I'm certainly not your wife."

My chosen mate used his Beta authority to give the entire moonbloom compound to his fated mate's daughter.
The healer had said to split it—half for each child. Both would live. He overrode her. Gave the full dose to Rosalie Blackwell.
He wanted a full recovery. Just not for ours.
Three days later, my daughter Wren's organs shut down. She died on her birthday, still asking why Daddy wasn't there. The dress I'd made her—white with little silver wolves along the hem—she never got to put it on.
That same day, his fated's daughter walked out of the healing hall completely cured. He even threw a feast for the whole pack.
I collapsed at the border of Thornecrest territory. The healers told me it was cancer. Late-stage. Nothing left to treat.
Now I sat alone in our empty house with Wren's unworn birthday dress across my lap and drafted the dissolution papers.

I caught my husband sleeping with my sister, so I burned it all down.
The fire burned fierce, swallowing that abandoned cabin in the woods, along with my shattered marriage.
With the stench of gasoline still lingering on my fingertips, I thought I had finally buried the man who betrayed me.
Until the next morning, when he walked through the front door without a single scratch.
My mind reeled.
If he was still alive... then who the hell did I burn to a crisp last night?

The Alpha of Blood Moon Pack needed an heir his chosen mate couldn't give him. So he found me — a rogue Omega with a destroyed pack and a little brother who needed protection — and offered a deal: carry his child, hand it over, walk away.
He never touched me. A physician, a syringe, a sterile room. When it was done, he said: "Thank you for your cooperation."
His mate Serena moved into the main house the week my pregnancy was confirmed. She picked the nursery colors. She chose the baby's name. She told the pack I was just "a relative visiting."
Then I overheard them planning to erase my scent from my baby within forty-eight hours of birth — so it would never know I existed.
I left that night. Six months pregnant, alone, into the snow.

As the most cold-blooded and ruthless Mafia don, Twain Hall had doted on me like the apple of his eye for ten years.
But on the very day we were discussing our wedding, the ring his subordinate delivered had another woman's name engraved on it—not mine.
I pretended not to notice and turned to Twain.
"Did they bring the wrong ring? Who's Dorothy? I've never heard of her."
Twain's expression didn't change. He pulled me into his arms with that familiar, indulgent look.
"My people weren't careful. Made a fool of themselves."
"I'll have them exchange it right away. Can't keep my queen waiting."
I smiled. But the moment I turned away, my face went cold. I dialed a number.
"Didn't you say you'd pay any price to marry me? Twain Hall betrayed me. I want his head!"

“What do you do when the love of your life wants to love someone else?”
"I want an open marriage. I want sex. And I just can’t do that with you anymore."
“How can you do this to me, Tristan? After everything?”
Sophia’s heart breaks when her husband, Tristan, pushes for an open marriage after twelve years of marriage, saying her life as a housewife and mom has killed their spark. Desperate to hold their twelve-year bond together, Sophia reluctantly agrees.
But what hits worse than the open marriage is how quickly her husband dives into the dating pool, even going as far as to violate their set boundaries.
Hurt and angry, Sophia escapes to her art school, where she meets Nathaniel Synclair, a charming new sponsor who lights a fire in her. They talk, and Nathaniel suggests a wild idea: he’ll pretend to be her fake lover to get back at her husband’s double standards.
Caught in the love triangle between her broken marriage and Nathaniel’s pull, Sophia hesitates, sparking a mix of want, lies, and truth that shakes up all she knows about love, trust, and who she really is.

After finding out that he had a year left to live. Alpha Logan Wolfie, requested for six months, where he could only live in a carefree and unhindered manner. In other to numb the pain and sadness in his heart before he fulfilled his mother's wish, to give her an heir who would become the next Alpha of the Pack.

"You will produce an heir before the curse takes over..."
Those are the very words of his mother. He hated commitment, and deep down in that dying heart of his, he wanted someone to love, even if it was just for a day before he died but he never thought that someone was a human girl.
Akira Ross, the woman, with zero knowledge about wolves and their existence, the woman that got the cure to his curse, just with the taste of her blood and lips.
Will Akira be able to cure the curse that runs in his bloodline and will she be able to accept the beast she loves is an Alpha?

"What the fuck? You Left hickeys on my neck?" I yelled, "Why didn't you tell me that you left those stupid pieces of stuff on my neck, I was practically telling the whole world that I had a passionate night?"
"Stupid! They aren't hickeys, I branded you?"
"What I do not understand?" I asked, he smirked, moving closer as his breath met my neck.
"I just stick my claim on you, you are mine now, that is my mate mark on you."

Warning: Smut! Smut!! Smut!!! Rated 18. Captured by an Alpha Daddy for Christmas contains possessive alpha behavior, forced proximity, age-gap romance, plus-size heroine, daddy-dom dynamics, jealousy, obsessive protectiveness, power imbalance, and holiday-season intimacy. Not suitable for readers under 18.
Dumped a week before Christmas, Annabelle "Belle" Evans forfeits her plan to spend Christmas with her narcissistic boyfriend in New York, and agrees to travel back home to Big Bear Lake with her perfect model sister and her nerdy brother-in-law. But a funny Christmas wish has other plans for her. When their car breaks down in the middle of nowhere, Belle wanders off for help and finds herself cornered by a wolf in the snowy woods. Just when she thinks she's about to be torn to pieces, a massive stranger appears—tall, broad, and sinfully hot, his eyes glowing amber in the moonlight.
He saves her life—and claims her as his.
"You'll be safer here," Jaxon murmurs, his gaze cold yet magnetic. "The full moon rules these woods. You'll be free once it's over."
"When will that be?" Belle asks, heart racing.
"After Christmas," he replies, leaving her unable to look away.
In his secluded cabin, every glance, every touch ignites a fire she hadn't expected. He's possessive. Obsessed. Dangerous. He's everything she wished for when she jokingly wrote to Santa for a "hot werewolf boyfriend." And the way he looks at her curves, the way his presence overwhelms her, makes her question what's real and what's forbidden. Now she's trapped in his arms, a prisoner to his touch, his heat, his growl, and the wild, wicked love burning between them might just make this her best Christmas ever.

Rejecting her one true mate, Alpha Anton Bates, after all the horrible things he and his father had put her through. Nala thought moving into a new land and studying to become a doctor, her life would run smoothly, and she would have a wonderful new start, but it is not as she seems. Her being away from Alpha Anton his love for her has turned into an obsession one that is not healthy for him and dangerous for Nala. But that is not all happening within poor Nala's life. While trying to ignore her alpha mate another alpha's eyes met her. How will Nala get away from these two now or does she don't want one to leave her side.

"Get engross in an intriguing read."

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Blurb:

Rejected by her mate, sold as a slave by her family, Lilith is bittered by the amount of betrayal she suffered in the hands of those that she calls family.

Hurt by rejection, she gets herself drunk and has a one night stand with a total stranger and then sees him as the Alpha of Blood moon pack.. The same pack she's meant to become a slave at.

Meeting the Alpha of Blood moon pack and recognizing him as the stranger from that night, she did everything to avoid him.

But, the more Lilith tries to get away from Alpha Damian, the more she finds herself getting closer to him.

The more the Alpha King desires her.

"The Draganovs are moving on Celeste tonight. I'm taking her to the safe house. We'll do the claiming after this, Orla. I promise."
That's what my husband said the seventh time he chose Celeste over me.
Celeste. The girl he'd loved since before he had a wife to ignore.
The first time, she heard footsteps outside her window at two in the morning. Rafael sent his whole detail to sit on her house and left me at a meeting with two men who wanted our shipping routes and didn't like being told no. I came home with a bullet crease across my ribs. He apologized for a week.
The third time, someone tipped the cops on one of our warehouses and she got scared. He drove her upstate himself. I took a knife at the door because there was no one left standing in front of me.
By the sixth time, he didn't explain. He just texted the doctor to be ready for me and left.
He's a Don. When the guns come out, he walks away clean. I'm the one wearing his name where everyone can see it. The one they aim at first. Six scars say so.
Every time, he held my face after and promised. Founders' Day. In front of every family in the city. Once Celeste was safe. I believed him six times.
So when the seventh time came and he chose her again, my bags were already packed.
There won't be an eighth time he sends me out to die for her. Next time, there won't be a wife left for him to send.

My husband, Marco, in his bid for the position of Don, was forced to marry the young widow of the previous Don, Claudia.
Every night, after returning from Claudia’s place, he would hold me and swear, "You’re the only woman I love, Elena. Claudia has the connections I need. Once I have real power and secure my position, I’ll make you my wife in name and in public."
But as I waited for him to rise to power, what started as a political act turned into nights where he simply never came home.
Then, on Christmas, I was dragged to their engagement party—where I was beaten in front of everyone.
Our six-year-old daughter, Sophia, knelt on the floor, crying and begging him, "Godfather, please, let my mommy go..."
But Marco stayed silent.
"It’s okay," I whispered, picking up my wounded daughter. "Mommy’s going to take you somewhere that truly belongs to us."
What Marco never knew was this: I never cared about being the Donna of this small city.
I am the only heir of the Rossi family—the most powerful Mafia family in all of Sicily.

“Marry Damian.”
My father’s voice was cold.
“Or stop acting like a spoiled heiress.”

I laughed bitterly.
“You mean sell me to save your company?”

I was once the proud daughter of the Blackwood family—until my parents divorced, another woman moved into my house, and my father decided to trade my future for business.

Worse?

The man I was forced to marry was Damian Harrington—my childhood crush who broke my heart and now shamelessly flirts with my stepsister.

So instead of crying over him, I made a decision:

I would build my own company and take back control of my life.

Then one reckless night changed everything.

While escaping Damian, I ended up in the arms of a dangerously handsome stranger with cold blue eyes and a smile impossible to resist.

I thought he was just an expensive escort.

But later, I learned the truth.

The man I slept with wasn’t some stranger.

He was Gabriel Ashford—the billionaire every woman in Manhattan dreams about.

Earth has been invaded by aliens for years, and only a few places on Earth have natural resources. Lana becomes an alien prisoner after helping an ungrateful woman. Unfortunately, the king or leader of the aliens fucked Lana that day and Lana could not get out of the alien base. Nearly desperate, Lana finds out that there is a civil war going on and is offered a deal to dethrone the alien king. What happens next?

"You're... you're leaving me here? I'm your Luna!" I stammered. My body felt like it was burning from the inside out. I barely recognized it as my own.
"I'm sorry, Lyra," he said, already turning away. "My pack's safety comes first." With that, he turned his back on me.


What happens when the man you chose... chooses fate instead?
Lyra believed she had already won against destiny. She and Cassian were not fated mates, but they chose each other anyway. Together, they built a powerful united pack, ruled side by side, and vowed to reject whatever fate tried to steal from them.
Until the day Cassian returned from the border carrying another woman in his arms—Liora.
She was fragile, gentle, and completely different from Lyra. And most importantly, she was Cassian's fated mate.
Cassian refused to let either woman go. So, he offered Lyra an ultimatum: An open marriage.
Humiliated in her own home, accused of cruelty, and forced to watch her husband protect another woman with a devotion he had never shown her, Lyra's heart shatters piece by piece.
But fate isn't done with her yet.
Her longtime enemy, Ethan—the Alpha of the second-largest pack in the North—claims her as his contractual Luna.
As zombie rogue attacks escalate and secrets begin to surface, Lyra must choose between staying in a marriage that no longer wants her or walking away from everything she helped build.

He married me because I look like her.
For three years, I played the role. I cooked his meals. I warmed his bed. I smiled when he forgot my birthday. I stayed quiet when he left in the middle of the night to hold her hand.
I told myself it was enough. I told myself I didn't need his love.
Then I got pregnant.
He said he hated children. So I didn't tell him. I was going to keep it. Our baby. The only thing that was truly mine.
But my body had other plans.
When I called him from the hospital floor, bleeding out, begging for help—he didn't come. He said I was lying. He was too busy with her.
That night, I lost everything.
The baby. The hope. The lie I'd been living.
Now he's calling me. Again and again.
But the substitute wife? She's not picking up.

After I found out about the secret admirer he’s been talking to for the past two months the, he throws divorce papers at my face after being married for six months. He claims that his admirer would give him half of the Williamson cooperation. He thinks I’m the naive middle class woman he married but what he doesn’t know is I’m the owner of the Williamson Cooperation, the company I inherited from my father’s as his only child just before he died. Throws out of the house, I decided to reclaim my power and move back to my estate. I hosted a convention where the secret admirer would be handing him the properties and I put everyone in shock when I show up and they find out it’s me. Richard begs at my feet for mercy but I totally ignore him and choose his personal assistant who has always been good to me from the very day I stepped into Richard’s mansion as his wife

I’m Scarlett, the last true revival tattoo artist, capable of defying death with my cursed ink—for a brutal price. I lost everything saving my fiancé Hunter in my past life, only to be betrayed and killed by him .

Reborn when Hunter dies again, I refuse to sacrifice myself for my murderers. In an unthinkable twist, the powerless fraud Wendy resurrects Hunter, winning universal praise while I’m branded cold. Only I know the truth: he is not alive. He is a decaying, cursed corpse. I gamble everything for revenge and resurrect the only man who once saved me.

But tampering with death twice stirs a fatal, unspoken curse.

When the Manhattan morgue finally managed to reach my husband, Victor Hawthorne, he was in the penthouse suite, fucking another woman.
"Mr. Hawthorne, this is the city morgue. We need you to come down and identify your wife's remains."
"Identify what?" he snapped, his thrusts not missing a beat.
"Burn her," he ordered. "Don't bother me with her pathetic ploys."
He tossed the phone onto the nightstand, his focus entirely on the woman beneath him.
Then my body was pushed into the incinerator.
When I was nothing but ashes, the funeral home called him again.
Selena pouted, trailing a nail down his chest.
"Is Cecilia acting up again?"
"I'll go end this farce," Victor sneered, getting out of bed.

Selene thought she'd found true love with Alexander Morrison. She was WRONG—she was just a stand-in for Jessa, the woman he really wanted.

When Alexander and his twin brother Adrian's yacht exploded in the Gulf of Mexico, Alexander came home with Adrian's ashes, claiming to BE Adrian. His goal? To steal Adrian's wife Jessa—the woman he'd always loved.

Selene knew instantly he was lying, but when she told everyone, no one believed her. Alexander called her "crazy from trauma" and locked her away in a mental facility. She was PREGNANT.

They drugged her daily. After she gave birth, Alexander told her the baby died. She broke completely.

Three years later, dying in that white hell, Selene heard Alexander's final confession:

"I always loved Jessa. Adrian just got to her first. YOU? You were just her replacement."

"The kid's alive. I gave him to Jessa. He calls her Mom now."

Selene died full of rage—then woke up reborn, back to the moment Alexander walked in with that urn.

This time, she'd expose his lies and make him PAY.

On the night my grandmother died, my husband Kael came home trailing blood.
His leather motorcycle jacket was soaked dark red, yet he flashed a savage grin: "I wiped the floor with those bastards tonight!"
For three years, he had treated our home as nothing more than a pit stop between reckless street races.
I’d finally had enough. "After the funeral, we're getting a divorce."
Before the words fully left my mouth, my phone rang. It was his riding partner, Lunn, his voice choking with sobs: "Sera... Kael drove off the cliff tonight. They only recovered bloody pieces of his helmet!"
But the "dead man" was standing right in front of me...

Ten years ago, my parents worked for the Bellamys. He was their driver. She ran the house.

Then came the crash. I watched them shove Nash Bellamy out of the wreck, and it killed them both.

That's where the claustrophobia came from.

He knew. He knew all of it.

Then at homecoming, I showed up in a dress that matched Camilla's. She was the girl he'd always wanted. So he shoved me into the abandoned supply closet backstage.

The lock turned. On the other side of the door, he and Camilla were laughing like it was nothing.

"I'm pretty sure she's claustrophobic."

"Two hours in there. She'll learn."

I clawed at my own hands until they bled, couldn't get any air, and ended up wetting myself in a closet a dog wouldn't sleep in.

When the door finally opened, he pinched his nose and laughed and said I was disgusting.

I pushed myself up the wall, inch by inch, and looked at the face I'd been looking at for ten years. And I didn't want to cry anymore. Not even a little.

"Nash. I'm done chasing you."

I spent five years loving Beckett Calloway.
When his ex-girlfriend died saving his life, I held him through every nightmare. When he said he "wasn't ready" for marriage, I waited. When he whispered "soon," I believed him.
Then her sister showed up. Crying about some terminal illness. Begging him to take care of her.
He let her move onto our private island—the one he promised would only ever belong to us.
He introduced her at the gala where he was supposed to announce our engagement.
He got her pregnant.
And when I told him she was lying about everything, he looked at me like I was the monster.
Then came our wedding rehearsal. She walked down the aisle in my dress. He slid his ring onto her finger. The chapel caught fire. I collapsed, bleeding.
He scooped her up and ran. Didn't even glance back.
So I burned my vows, deleted every trace of myself, and vanished.
This time, I wasn't coming back.

A hundred years ago, that curse was meant for him. I'm the one who threw myself in front of it.
It cost me my elven heart, shattered on the spot—and a name I could never wash off. Traitor.
I never argued. Because the moment I speak the truth, the curse goes straight back to him.
So I stayed. I became his blood servant and let him drain me, one bottle at a time, to feed the woman he'd waited a century for. I told myself that if I endured long enough, someday he'd see my heart for what it was.
Then the healer told me my heart had thirty days left.
And he walked in, knife in hand, to say his beloved needed more of my blood.
This time, I'm not enduring anything.
I'm going to give him back this heart—at the exact moment he's most sure he's won.

To avenge his beloved, my husband locked me—pregnant—in a dog cage and sank it into the icy lake outside our house.
"Wendy spent ten minutes in the water. You'll stay in there for two days."
I screamed and pleaded, "I'm not lying! I really am pregnant! Please!"
But he towered over me, his eyes full of disgust. "You'll say anything to avoid punishment—even a lie like this?"
As the iron cage sank, the freezing water swallowed me—and took the unborn child with it.
Two days later, he had the cage hauled up, waiting for me to beg Wendy for forgiveness.
But all that was left inside was a curled, lifeless body, my dress soaked in vivid red.
I hovered above, watching coldly as he clung to my corpse, howling like a madman.
Eric, why are you crying?
Isn't this what you wanted?

Jessica Thomas is thrust into the dark, seductive world of the mob when she gets the eye of David Mack, a powerful crime boss known for his cruelty.

What starts as a risky love quickly turns into a forbidden romance neither of them can refuse. But with deception around every corner and a dangerous enemy determined to keep them apart, Jessica and David must decide if their love is worth risking everything – even their lives.

As Jessica learns to manage this dangerous world, she’ll find the depths of her strength, and David will face a love that might break him or set him free.

I hate Beckett Hayes.
I hate his stupidly perfect face.
I hate the arrogant smirk that has sold millions of jerseys.
I hate that half of Chicago seems to worship the ground his skates touch.
But mostly? I hate what he did to my brother.
Eight years ago, Beckett Hayes destroyed my family. I haven't spoken to him since.
So naturally, on the first morning of my dream job with Chicago's hottest professional hockey team, I find him leaning against my office door.
Older. Bigger. Hotter. And wearing the same infuriating smile I remember.
My new job should have nothing to do with Beck. Until another one of the captain's scandals lands him in trouble and management decides I'm exactly the person he needs.
Now I'm traveling with him. Managing him. Arguing with him. Trying very hard not to notice what years of professional hockey have done to his body.
Then a photograph of us nearly kissing goes viral.
Suddenly everyone wants Beckett Hayes and Sloane Mercer together. The team. The sponsors. The fans. Everyone except me.
Because I know exactly who Beck is. At least, I thought I did.
But the closer I get to him, the more the story I've believed for eight years starts falling apart.
Beck didn't destroy my brother. He protected him.
And the man I've spent almost a decade hating? He's spent every one of those years wanting me.

I mined in a medieval pit, lived on moldy black bread, with whip scars across my back and iron chains around my ankles. The lord treated us like livestock.

I thought that was simply how the world worked—until I forced open a hidden passage and crawled into a white corridor that should not have existed: cold fluorescent lights, metal doors, surveillance cameras, as if the skin of the age had been ripped away in an instant.

That was when I understood: the Middle Ages were only a set, everyone around me was acting, and I was nothing more than a toy for the amusement of the rich.

They cloned the real-life rivals they could never defeat, threw them into different “scenarios,” and tortured them for pleasure.

They thought they could keep me in the dark forever.

What they don’t know is that I’m ready to get out—and tear this entire human-toy industry out by the roots.

"I absolutely love your huge, thick cock, James. Just let me ride it tonight, and I'll pay you to be my secret whore," my wife's sister-in-law purred, climbing into my bed completely naked, her wet, dripping pussy grinding against my thigh.

I threw her naked body onto the floor like trash. For three years, I played the pathetic, submissive househusband to my arrogant wife, Emily. I endured their endless humiliation, hiding the fact that I was the billionaire heir and lethal ex-special forces agent keeping their pathetic family alive.

But today, the three-year contract hit zero.

When a rival mafia boss kicked down our door, threatening to massacre everyone, my wife's sister Rhea desperately ripped her dress open, exposing her heavy, bare breasts, begging the boss to fuck her raw right there on the floor if he spared her life.

I’d had enough.

I stepped forward, snapping the necks and shattering the bones of a dozen armed guards, leaving them choking on their own blood. As my fleet of twenty armored Rolls-Royces surrounded the villa, my true identity was finally revealed.

Seeing my unimaginable power, Rhea crawled to my feet, shoving her massive tits against my leg, begging to suck my cock and share my bed with my wife.

I slapped her across her slutty face, tore up the marriage contract, and walked out.

Behind me, Emily collapsed, sobbing hysterically. "If I had just spread my legs for him... if I had just let him breed me and fill my womb with his heir, I would be the queen of the world..."

She's begging for my seed now, but should I lock her in my basement and make her pay for the last three years?

On my first day as an intern at the zoo, the old director assigned us animals to care for.
In my previous life, my classmate Jack chose the easy-to-care-for African elephant, while I was forced to take on the brutal Siberian tiger.
A month later, the apocalypse struck, and the Siberian tiger successfully evolved, leading me to escape the encirclement.
Jack's elephant, however, couldn't outrun the mutated species and was torn to pieces. Driven
by jealousy, the surviving Jack incited a mob to brutally beat me and the giant tiger to death, dismembering and cannibalizing us.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day the animals were assigned.
Jack had already taken the Siberian tiger, pushing the elephant to me, and I knew he had also been reborn.
But what he didn't know was that the Siberian tiger he had devoured was also reborn with me.

---The game between Alpha and his Huntress mate---
---Who can be the final winner?---
---Who loses her/his heart in the game?---

“You know you never told me why you had those numbers,” Rogan said, “Do they mean something special?”
“We get them assigned, but I was able to decide mine,” I said.
“Oh? Why 110 then?” Rogan kept asking.
I smiled a little, and Rogan looked at me confused.
“It … it was my father’s number,” I said.
“I … I wanted to honour him, you know.
Rogan squeezed my hand and I looked up at him and smiled.
“You were a great hunter,” he said. “But now you need to be a great Luna.”


Her number is 110, her name was rarely used. But she indeed has a beautiful name, Serena. Serena lost her family at a very young, she hated all of the werewolves who ruin her life. When she was sent to kill the most powerful Alpha Rogan, Serena didn’t have any hesitation, Alpha Rogan must be killed.

Alpha Rogan caught the most unexpected prey, his mate, a little huntress. To deal with her was much more difficult than killing his enemies with blood. He knew she hated him and he himself should stay away from her. But he just couldn’t, he wanted his mate so much and never wanted to hurt her.

"Hey, Sasha, stay away from her! Don't you know? She is cursed!"
“Don’t you know to stay away from children? God knows what kind of evil you possess,”
"Don’t forget you are the cursed one."
The whispers started again, and I walked towards the forest with my strained smile.

These were the same whispers, the same words that I have been listening to since I grew up.
I don't know if people will ever treat me normally and not as an outcast or if I will always remain a monster in their eyes.

My name is Valerie Katya. I am the daughter of the beta of the pack.
Usually, any girl of my rank would've enjoyed all the luxuries, but things were different for me.
I was different from others, or should I say, they described me differently from themselves.

According to folks, I am cursed.

So the beta's daughter, who was supposed to live her life training and serving the pack, was now the biggest outcast. Though my sister enjoys all those benefits of being a beta's daughter. Everyone has high hopes for her, including me.

Beatrice is nothing like me. She is smart and beautiful. If she were born a human, I am sure she would've broken many hearts with her otherworldly appearance. She is like the dream girl of most boys here.
It’s funny how we belong to the same family and bloodline but have different destinies.

On my 18th birthday, I found my mate, but he rejected me and slept with our sister.

Ambrose Kendrick came into my life when I was disappointed in everything. He is the strongest wolf in the world leading the strongest and biggest pack in the world. According to rumors, He is lethal, scary, heartless and void of any emotions.

“I prefer to be in the arms of other men who would treat me right than be with you anymore” she breathed out.
“How dare you” he yelled at her face while she stood her ground to him.
“What are you...”
Before she could finish her sentence, he pinned her to the wall and kissed her fiercely. He wrapped her legs around his waist leaving her back pinned to the wall as he deepened the kiss.
He pulled away from the kiss slowly kissing her neck in turn as his hand slid into her panties. His fingers fondled with her wet folds giving her shimmers of pleasure she had never felt.


Elaine, a beautiful young lady who had everything just found out that she had cancer and had about a year to live. Shattered by the news, she hid it from her family that maltreated only for them to realize the truth and cuss her out breaking her heart.In a bid to enjoy her life to the fullest, she had a one night stand with a man but to her greatest surprise, it turned out to be her husband.

She's a slave in her pack, rejected by her mate. But after a one night stand with the dangerously seductive Alpha—the most feared wolf in the territory—everything changes. When he shows up at her pack house and reveals she's pregnant with his child, a child destined to shape the future of all wolves, she knows they must escape—or die trying.

But a hidden enemy watches from the shadows.

Can their love survive, or will the deadliest threat the wolves have ever known tear them apart?

She knelt in the pouring rain, pounding on my glass door, covered in mud, her voice hoarse from shouting. I stood inside, holding Lily's hand. She called my name, over and over, like calling a dead person. I lowered my head and said to Lily, "Come on, Daddy will take you to dinner." Then I turned and closed the door. From beginning to end, I didn't look at her once. Not because I still hated her. It was because she meant nothing to me anymore. And that woman didn't know—three years ago, when she threw me away like trash, I had already learned not to cling to trash.

He wanted an open marriage. I gave him exactly what he asked for—with the three men he fears most.
"You gave your body to a man who didn't know what to do with it," Cane murmured, his breath hot on her skin. "Let us show you what it means to be wanted… by three."
Riley gave everything to her marriage until she walked in on her husband and his stepsister cheating on her.
The betrayal shattered her… but only for a moment as she proposes to the one thing he's always wanted: an open marriage. He thought she'd crumble.
Instead, she chose revenge. And nothing stings more than the fact that she picked his three best friends to help her get it.
Three ruthless bikers.
Three men who don't share unless it's worth the risk.
Three Alphas who made Riley theirs the moment she said yes to them.
Now every night, she gives them what her husband took for granted—moans, surrender, and something dangerously close to love. He watches from the sidelines. Burning. Regretting but it's too late.
Because she's not just taking back her power—she's making sure he feels what it's like to be replaced.
And the worst part? He never expected she'd fall for them. And that they'd fall for her. And Riley? She's only just started.

...

"Elena, do you know what you're getting yourself into?" Layla, my best friend asked sounding concerned.

All for the right reasons though. I smirked, crossing my legs.

"He is rich, he is handsome, he is powerful..." A sly smile graced my lips "Noah Reynolds, is my target"

...

Elena Vasquez was a professional con artist, and this time she’d set her sights higher than ever: the cold-hearted billionaire, Noah Reynolds. When he mistakes her for his fiancée, Elena plays along. This was supposed to be her biggest game yet.

But the closer she gets, the harder it becomes to keep the mask on. Because Noah isn’t just another target; he’s the one man who makes her heart falter... The feelings were starting to feel real.

When the real bride-to-be returns, Elena finds herself caught in a dangerous triangle of lies, loyalty, and love. If Noah uncovers the truth, she could lose everything

Unless… he can’t remember.

Step into a world where desire knows no boundaries and every touch carries the weight of temptation. From forbidden nuns to jealous stepsisters, shy girls discovering their deepest cravings, and unsuspecting maids in the opulent mansions of billionaires—these stories explore lust, power, and the thrill of the forbidden.
Experience moments that blur the line between control and surrender, as characters navigate hidden passions and broken vows. Every encounter promises intensity, whether it’s a possessive grip, a commanding voice, or a longing that can’t be ignored. These affairs don’t just ignite—they consume, leaving both the willing and the unwilling craving more.
Warning: these tales are for readers who dare to explore the raw, unrestrained side of desire, where lust always wins, and every story leaves a lingering ache.

“The perfect romance or beach read, with a difference: its enthusiasm and beautiful descriptions offer an unexpected attention to the complexity of not just evolving love, but evolving psyches. It's a delightful recommendation for romance readers looking for a touch more complexity from their romance reads.”--Midwest Book Review (For Now and Forever)THE WITCHING PLACE: MURDER BY MANUSCRIPT is book #2 in a charming new cozy mystery series by bestselling author Sophie Love, author of The Inn at Sunset Harbor series, a #1 Bestseller with over 200 five-star reviews.When Alexis Blair, 29, is fired from her book publishing job and breaks up with her boyfriend on the same day, she wonders if life is urging her to make a fresh start. She decides it’s time to pursue her lifelong dream of opening a bookstore of her own—even if that means leaving Boston and accepting a job in a curious bookstore in a small seaside town an hour away.When Alexis is dispatched to scout out some books in an estate sale in a gothic mansion, she finds something she does not expect: one book is incredibly rare, the only one of its kind in existence, worth millions of dollars.She also soon finds something else she does not expect: a dead body.Thrust in the middle of the crime, will Alexis be able to clear her name?And will she discover the mystery at the heart of her very own store?A page-turning cozy, rife with the supernatural, mystery, secrets and love—and centered around a small town as odd and endearing as its shop—A CURIOUS BOOKSTORE will make you fall in love and keep you laughing out loud as you turn pages late into the night.“The romance is there, but not overdosed. Kudos to the author for this amazing start of a series that promises to be very entertaining.”--Books and Movies Reviews (For Now and Forever)Book #3 in the series—A PERILOUS PAGE—is now also available!

Before the zombie outbreak, I was a hardcore doomsday prepper. I hoarded countless supplies, but when the apocalypse actually arrived, I ended up turning into a zombie myself. Just as I was overwhelmed with panic, my girlfriend and the guy she was cheating on me with brought a mob of thugs to smash down my door...

My ex and I used to live inside a romance movie.

She was the heroine’s best friend. I was the hero’s loyal sidekick. When the leads got their happy ending, we—the two “extras”—ended up together like an afterthought.

Then the credits rolled, and real life didn’t. The heroine died in a car crash, the hero fell apart, and my girlfriend chose that moment to leave me.

She said she was done being a supporting role. She wanted the spotlight—she wanted the heroine’s place.

I didn’t beg. I left the city alone and started over from nothing.

Five years later, I returned with my own company group—and ran into her again at a charity gala.

She still looked flawless, moving through the room of power and money, keeping up the image of success. She assumed I was still the same guy trailing behind someone else, and she spoke to me with that familiar, pitying superiority—offering to “help” me back into the circle.

Until the lights dimmed, and the host read my name with respectful clarity, inviting me to the stage.

That was when she realized the gala’s biggest sponsor was me—and the “sidekick” she thought she’d left behind was now someone she could never reach again.