123 Book(s) Related to jupiter drops lyrics

“If you are looking for a town to fall in love with, then you can't go wrong with the Jupiter Point series.” Welcome to charming Jupiter Point, where a sexy new crew of wildfire fighters is taking the town by storm. SET THE NIGHT ON FIRE Crew leader Sean Marcus is out to prove he’s no longer the troubled boy who left Jupiter Point after a night of violence. All he wants is to clear his name. Falling in love isn’t the plan, but everything changes when he sets eyes on his best friend’s sister Evie, all grown up and more gorgeous than ever. He’s the only one who knows her secret—but will she trust him to help heal her heart? BURN SO BRIGHT Josh Marshall is all about fun, firefighting and flirting. But there’s one woman who keeps him at arm’s length--honeymoon-planner extraordinaire Suzanne Finnegan. Her life plan has no room for someone she thinks is a player—until he’s injured rescuing a crewmate in a wildfire. Then she can’t resist a hometown hero who needs her help. Besides, if they’re so wrong for each other, why do the sparks between them burn so bright? INTO THE FLAMES His hotshot crew knows him as Rollo, but to his family he’s Rollington Wareham III, a banking heir with responsibilities he can’t escape. His days of freedom are almost over, which means it’s the worst time to realize how sexy and adorable his friend Brianna is. Besides, Brianna’s comfort zone is with plants, not high society. But a limited-time fling can’t hurt, can it? Especially when they’re both sure it can’t possibly lead to anything… This box set includes Books 1-3 of the Jupiter Point series. Each book can easily be read alone, but you will find familiar characters and settings as you go. “Jennifer Bernard is an author who knows how to write the perfect yummy alpha hero and a kickass modern heroine.” Harlequin Junkie “The dialogue in Bernard’s stories is always, always quick, fun, and super smart & sexy.” HJ “Jennifer’s writing is so realistic and descriptive you feel like you are part of this community, that these are your friends and family. I was emotionally invested with these characters, their lives, their stories, the battles they had to overcome.” “I can’t wait to see what Jupiter Point has to offer next!”

"Say, who sent you?"
"I... I just want to..." get my money back.
Before Vichy can finish her sentence, Makino interrupts. "Want to be my woman?"
Sure enough, this is another woman who drugs him and tries to get into his bed.
"If you want to die, I will let you get what you want."
"Asshole, you let me go!
"Drugs dare to take, now play with me sex so even..."****

Vichy Colman saved a man, and it turns out to be Makino Field, the richest man in Iugi City.
He is hearsay ruthless, unscrupulous...His has only profit in his eyes without any other thing even his family. When Vichy rescued him, he promised $100 million in reward.

But when that $100 million turns into a pride price to marry her, Vichy shouts, "I only want the $100 million reward, not you!" "You give your life to save me, I can only repay you with my own life."

"Why? Did you ask my opinion about marrying you?"
"So will you marry me?" 'No!
"Then I might as well condescend to marry to your family."
"Makino Field, you has no face."
"Face is worth less than a wife."

"So... I don't want the money then."
"The money has been transferred to your account already. Now it's too late to change your mind."

Vichy is about to crying. She saved a person, and now she needs to devote all of her, TO HIM!

Warning: Explicit content
"How do you feel?" He asked as he played with my breast.
"I feel... I feel like I'm addicted to you...."I hissed in pleasure as he bit on my nipple.
"Go on I want to hear it," he said in a low tone that made my skin heat up again.
"You're a sin I can't fight against. You make me want more of you even when it's not right and it's toxic." I said almost whispering still trying to catch my breath.
"And you love it even if it feels forbidden."
" S-scott we shouldn't...."
"Shhh...." He ordered as he stroked my wet clit with his fingers making me moan. "I don't want to hear more of your guilty confessions, I want you..." He paused and drew his face closer to my ears to whisper to it. "I want you to forget everything and just think about you and me and the feelings that come with our body bonding in each other's heat."


She is a stripper, entangled in the men's world. All she ever wanted was to have lots of money, a successful career, and lots of men to satisfy her sinful desires. Her name is Thea, flip through the pages of this book to find out how she lives out her erotic fantasies and the lifestyle of guns and men.

Triffany never expected her life will change after an unpleasant encounter with a
stranger she never knew, this wasn't the life she dreamt of, force into a marriage she did not
sign up for but will things really go well for her after getting married to a wealthy man who
has no love for her.

Triffany never expected her life will change after an unpleasant encounter with a stranger she never knew, this wasn't the life she dreamt of, and force into a marriage she did not sign up for, but will things really go well for her after getting married to a wealthy man who has no love for her.

Orphan Fae was fostered by the wealthy Eastons ‘til she’s handed her modest inheritance. Carl, the Easton’s heir, is her childhood friend and all-time crush. A few years later, she's an uninvited guest to his wedding to her bestfriend, in an island resort owned by his Best Man Jigo.

That night, drunk and reeling from a heart break, she did the unthinkable and begs Jigo, the ultimate snob, to help her forget.

Well, he’s the most gorgeous, sexiest man she’s ever met. Stoic and ruthless, she thinks he's only ever seen her as a love-sick fool and his nonchalance is disguised disdain for her behavior. But not only did he oblige, he’s amazingly the sweetest teddy bear behind closed doors!

And so, after that weekend—she runs. She was in need of a short distraction, not another obsession that will break her heart again! But her perfect rebound appears in her door, slips inside her condo, her bed and into her life seamlessly. Next thing she knew, they're married.

That leaves their families and friends—and the just gotten back from his honeymoon Carl—spinning with either joy or dismay. He thinks she needs saving. Sarah, his wife, isn't happy that he's meddling. But when Sarah’s dirty past gets exposed, her crumbling marriage and Carl’s new feelings for Fae threaten his friendship with Jigo.

While that’s how Fae finds herself—again—in the crosshairs of Sarah’s vindictive machinations.

In my past life, when the apocalypse hit, I relied on my training as an ex-Special Forces soldier to escort a group of arrogant corporate executives safely to a military base, fighting tooth and nail the entire way.

Yet, just to steal the vital supplies I had risked my life to gather and trade them for special privileges, they locked me out of the escape route the moment a zombie horde closed in.

When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn. It was the third day of our office building being surrounded by the undead.

A military rescue armored vehicle was waiting right downstairs. However, these corporate "elites" merely sneered in disgust. Still clinging to their superiority, they arrogantly demanded to stay on the 36th floor to wait for a supposedly incoming "private helicopter to a tropical island"—a rescue that I knew didn't exist.

In my previous life, I had practically begged and dragged them onto that rescue vehicle, a decision that ultimately got me killed.

This time, I just let out a cold laugh, grabbed my backpack, and boarded the armored vehicle without a single backward glance.

The building's backup generators were about to die, and the ground-floor electronic doors were on the verge of failing. Without my protection, trapped on the top floor by tens of thousands of ravenous zombies... I can't wait to see how many days these big shots manage to survive this apocalypse!

I'm a folklorist. Folk traditions are my field.
At first, I thought it was just an ordinary rhyme, a scrap of oral history set to a tune.
"A rag doll in the mire, swinging high up to the sky..."
We all thought it was just a prank.
Until the first person drowned in the bog. Then the second fell from a tower crane. Then the third somehow drowned in a bathtub.
I stared at the black symbol surfacing on the back of my hand.
And then I saw the dean—the one who was supposed to be dead—standing outside my dorm window in a long black dress, smiling at me with impossible tenderness...

My mate, Valerius, was struck by a soul-splitting curse from hunters, fracturing him into a dual personality.

The rabid persona is brutal and cold-blooded. His heart holds only his childhood sweetheart, and he casts me aside like worthless trash.

Yet, when lucid, he is my deeply devoted lover—the man who sees me as his absolute salvation.

But the man who deeply loves me is slipping away.

It culminated on the night of the hunter ambush.

I dragged my shattered leg, barely surviving a sea of fire. Yet, to comfort his startled childhood sweetheart, he turned his back and walked away.

In the moment he left, I finally let go.

Because the eyes that had just abandoned me for her... were the deep, dark gold of his lucid state.

Later, when I accepted a deal to erase all traces of my existence and give them their happy ending, he completely lost his mind...

Three years ago, I was the sole surviving legendary mage of Ash Valley. To fulfill my comrade's dying wish, I married into the Robert family, becoming a despised and bullied son-in-law . For three years, I endured torment and humiliation; my entire family treated me like trash . My wife handed me divorce papers , then accepted the marriage proposal of a nobleman. On my wedding day, I walked into the hall in old clothes, and everyone laughed, thinking I was crazy. Until I shattered all magic with a wave of my hand, my legendary presence overwhelming everyone present, the woman who had once despised me finally cried and asked me: Why did you lie to me?

Zeke and I always said we’d be best friends forever since we were pups. Everyone always assumed we’d end up as mates but we laughed it off. So when we both turned 18 and the string of destiny snapped into place tying us together, I was over the moon. But why is Zeke looking at me like I have two heads? Why is he telling me he’d never mate with a mutt like me? What happened…to best friends forever?

He was dragged onto a debate stage as a replacement.

He could barely order lunch without apologizing to the cashier.

Then he took one wrong sip from the bottle in his bag, stood up in front of six hundred people, and made the national champion forget how to answer.

For six years I kept the books nobody wanted to touch.
They called me the help. My husband signed my name to a loan I never saw. His mother told the whole family I was the reason there were no grandchildren.
At the anniversary gala, they planned to retire me quietly — and hand my desk to the woman my husband had been paying out of company accounts.
They forgot one thing.
Before I married into this family, I spent six years catching men who move money the way they do. I never stopped keeping a second set of books.
I let them think the game was already over.
It was — for them.

Clutching her thighs and hitching her up on the vanity. Dragging her legs over his waist. Her hands over her head held by his as he closed the gap between them. Taking her lips fully in his. Hungry for her. His body had ached and yearned for her for so long. Running his tongue up her neck before biting her earlobe. Her nails in her chest. Moans in his ear.


The Wild's of Nakuru is a realm tucked away hidden in plain sight on the Hawaii Islands of Kauai. It's said to be a place the gods created long ago. A place of magic, rare supernatural beings, and peace.

Ruled by Lelani the Enchanted Goddess. Soon to be married to the Lycan King Montai also known as the protector of the realm. A marriage that would bond the most powerful beings together. A marriage that would keep earth and its people safe. However, when things take a turn and Lelani is separated from Montai before their bonding ritual could be complete Nakuru lands slowly die, dangerous creatures of the night start to roam the earth, and Montai is in a mad rage no longer connected with the Queen.

A romantic, mysterious adventure. A journey that must be taken. Get lost in the realm of Nakuru, the magical beings, and the heated lustful romance between Montai and Lelani all in The Wilds of Nakuru.

Quick Note: Story does start off jumping between different time eras. Bold Italic captions will be placed whenever the time setting changes. The story does have romance and explicit scenes but is also meant to be an adventure mystery.

At seventy-two, Richard Hayes finally asked my mother for a divorce.

He thought he was setting himself free.

He did not know Eleanor Hayes had been waiting ten years for him to say the words.

By sunset, his new woman would be calling my mother cruel.

By winter, he would be standing on her porch with two suitcases and nowhere soft to land.

And my mother, who had spent nearly half a century opening doors for him, would finally learn how peaceful a locked door could sound.

Dr. Mara Venn had survived twelve years in trauma medicine by trusting what she could prove: blood pressure, pupil response, scan results, time of death.

Then blue letters appeared in the air outside Mercy Gate Medical Center, warning her not to enter an operating room.

The patient was already dead.

The surgery was a trap.

And if Mara went back inside, a powerful hospital family would bury a man's death under her name.

Evan Hale had spent three years being invisible.

In the port city of Grayhaven, that meant midnight towing calls, grease under his nails, a cheap apartment above a closed pawnshop, and a daughter who still believed the world could be repaired with pancakes and tape. He let people call him broke. He let his ex-wife call him a failure. He let rich men look through him as if poverty had made him harmless.

Then Lily came to the tow yard with a hospital bracelet on her wrist and terror in her eyes.

The paperwork said Evan had lost his rights. The doctors said it was an emergency. The heir to Grayhaven's largest medical charity smiled like the city already belonged to him.

They were all wrong.

Because before Evan became a night-shift tow driver, he had been the man federal teams called when protected witnesses vanished, sealed evidence moved, and dangerous people needed to be found before sunrise. He had buried that life to keep his daughter safe.

Now the people hunting Lily had put her name on a list he recognized.

And Evan Hale was done hiding.

"Louis, what are you—oh fuck!"

He was thrusting into me while I was still coming, and the sensation was incredible. My body was hypersensitive, every movement sending shockwaves through me.

"Can't stop," he growled against my throat. "Need more."

Holy shit, he's not done. He's actually getting harder.

I couldn't form words anymore. He was fucking me through my orgasm, and I was already building toward another one. My nails dug into his shoulders as he moved with renewed intensity.

"So good," I gasped, my legs wrapping around his waist. "Don't stop, don't fucking stop."

Louis was like a man possessed, his movements becoming more desperate and hungry. When I came again, even harder this time, he followed with a roar.

We collapsed together, both of us breathing hard, my body still trembling from the aftershocks. I felt completely wrung out, like I'd been turned inside out and put back together.


Sloane, a birthmarked outcast from her werewolf pack, saves a dying stranger with no memory. For three months, they find love in their hidden world where her birthmark don't matter. But when black-ops soldiers take him away, she discovers he's far more dangerous than she knew, and she's developing strange powers.

To survive, Sloane assumes a dead woman's identity, living her life and wearing her face. When she finally sees him again, he's changed, no longer the gentle man who called her beautiful. She's changed too, hidden behind another's identity.

Now they're both different people than when they fell in love. Will he recognize the woman who saved him when she's disguised as someone else?

Three years ago, Nora Hart's seventeen-year-old daughter died after a charity party hosted by Hartley's most powerful medical family. The official record called it a voluntary overdose. Nora knew better: her daughter had called for help, the ambulance had been delayed, and someone had rewritten the truth before sunrise.

Now Nora has a new name, a quiet job inside Calder Health Network, and access to the files no grieving mother was ever meant to see. She will not beg the Calders for justice. She will let their own payments, reports, recordings, and betrayals lead them into the open.

But when the first accomplice panics, Nora discovers the cover-up reaches deeper than one spoiled heir. The man who buried her daughter's name is preparing to announce a billion-dollar merger in front of donors, cameras, and politicians.

This time, Nora intends to make sure everyone hears what really happened at the lake.

Mara Vale knew how to save ruined things.

Rotten silk. Smoke-stained lace. Wedding gowns torn by jealous hands or careless lovers. In the old brick shop her mother had left her, Mara could lift a century of dirt from a veil and make every hidden stitch disappear.

But on the night of her own wedding, there was nothing she could save.

Her fiance was in the hotel bridal suite with her stepsister. Her father called her ungrateful when she refused to smile through the betrayal. By midnight, Mara had lost her groom, her family, and the deed to the shop that carried her mother's name.

Then rain drove her into a garage on the wrong side of downtown, where a dangerous young mechanic caught her before she hit the concrete.

Dante Cross smelled like motor oil, wore a dirty white tank under his coveralls, and looked at Mara as if he had been waiting eight years to find her.

Everyone thought he was poor.

Everyone was wrong.

And when Mara's enemies dragged her onto a livestream and called her a thief in front of fifty thousand strangers, the man from the garage stepped between her and the slap meant to break her.

He did not ask permission.

He simply said, "Touch her again, and find out who owns this street."

After the crash, everyone told Mara Ellis to be grateful her husband survived.

Evan Vale came home breathing, walking, smiling when people told him to smile. But the man in her kitchen no longer cared about the tiny rules that had once held his brilliant mind together: the blue mug facing east, the dry workbench, the exact order of every file name. His stepmother called it healing. His half brother called it a second chance.

Mara called it a warning.

When Evan's family moves to take his company, his money, and his legal voice, Mara discovers the real Evan saw the attack coming. He left her a trail hidden inside the ordinary life they built together. To save what remains of him, she will have to stop begging people to believe her and become the one person his enemies forgot to fear.

A hundred years after the war where werewolves lost against humans, Kaiya finds herself imprisoned in an island park where they are hunted weekly for human entertainment. However, when the ownership of the island park changes, she finds her mate, who coincidentally, is the new park owner.


“You are the first freed werewolf. It does not mean that you will be the last,” he says.

“Is that why you freed me? To set an example?”

“No. I freed you because you will be my woman.”

My breathing stops. The way he puts a claim on me makes me want to claim him too. “I—”

“Ah! Don’t worry about answering me now. I will give you time to consider me.”

I look at the table and entwine my fingers together. I take a deep breath and look back at him. “I want that too,” I whisper. “I want to become your woman, too.”

I answer the surprise on his face by flushing scarlet. Then, he looks away and I can see a blush creeping on his face, too.

“So, starting now, are we together?” he asks.

“Before that, we need to do a promise.”

“A promise?”

I take his hand to mine and say, “You are my mate, whom I promise to love and cherish forever, until the gods and fate separate us.”

He squeezes my hand and answers, “You are my mate, whom I promise to love and cherish forever, even if the gods and fate may try to separate us.”

When Cassie discovered that her boyfriend of six months was cheating on her with a married younger woman, she looked for the cheating woman's husband and insisted to have sex with him. However, after the deed, she found out that she got the wrong person and had a tryst with the billionaire Liam Chapman instead.

Soon, her life spirals out of control—Liam's expelled son enrolls in her school. Her ex-boyfriend’s cheating goes out. Students complain about her teaching methods. And her co-teachers think that she is having an affair with the education minister because of the speed of her promotion and the number of her awards.

Wanting to escape the drama, she resigns and goes to another city, only to meet Liam Chapman again. This time, he has an offer she can't reject. A contract marriage of three years. He will provide all her needs, but in return, she will provide his, and that includes focusing on his little monster of a son who hates studying because he thinks it's very uncool.

However, as she stays with husband and son, she falls more and more for Liam and loves his kid as if he is her own. But, time is running out. Soon the contract will end, and she will need to leave the life she learned to love.

I loved Callum Crane for five years. He said I didn't fit. Then he proposed — to my sister.
The same night, his brother called me with the most insane idea I've ever heard: marry him instead. Same day. Same venue. Right across the hall from my ex and my sister's ceremony.
I said yes. Not because I loved Emrys Crane. Because I'd rather set the whole thing on fire than sit in a pew and watch.
Here's the thing about revenge marriages, though. They're supposed to be fake.
Nobody told Emrys.
The man had a wrench set in his truck that only fit my grandmother's machine — bought years before I ever spoke to him. He'd been sneaking looks through my workshop window so often the stone wore down. He fixed my motorcycle three times and never mentioned it. He remembered that I stared at a piece of almond brittle for ten seconds once, and bought it for me weeks later.
Seven years. He'd been in love with me for seven years. Said nothing. Did everything.
And Callum? The man who told me I didn't fit?
He showed up at my orchard with an apology and a folder full of evidence against my sister, begging for a second chance.
I looked him in the eye and said: "Too late. Wrong harvest."
He tried five more times. It only got worse for him.

Nine and a half million followers. Penthouse in LA. More money than I ever dreamed possible.
I built my empire teaching people to transform themselves, to become beautiful despite their scars. What I never told them was why I needed to learn that skill in the first place.
Then she slides into my DMs: "OMG ScarlettGlow! We went to high school together! Your biggest fan here!"
Madison Blackwell. The golden girl who made my teenage years hell.
She has no clue that ScarlettGlow is actually Scarlett Murphy—the "nobody" she tortured until I disappeared senior year. Now she's broke, desperate, and literally begging me for attention.
I'm staring at her across this overpriced Beverly Hills restaurant, watching her panic over an eight-hundred-dollar guest fee while I casually pull out my black Amex.
The girl who once said I'd never amount to anything is now desperately trying to impress me.
Should I tell her who I really am?

I spent ten years following Ashton around like it was my job. He said jump, I jumped. He said he was hungry, I went and made him a sandwich. His homework, his fights, his messes — I handled all of it. I thought that's what being close to someone meant.
Then at the fall pep rally, in front of two thousand people, he strapped me to a platform, blasted me with paint, and let his girlfriend laugh at me through a megaphone.
I was the punchline. I threw up on camera. The video went viral before I even hit the ground.
So I did the one thing nobody expected — I vanished. New school, new city, new number. Every trace of him, gone.
I thought that was the end of it.
But Ashton doesn't let go of what he thinks is his. And what he's willing to do to drag me back? I wasn't even close to ready for that.

At 2:17 AM, six weeks postpartum, new mom Harper thought she was just responding to her baby's crying. Instead, she discovered her husband Kieran and their live-in nanny Anya in the most intimate embrace—right beside her daughter's crib.
In her most vulnerable moment, in what should have been the safest space in her home, the two people she trusted most were betraying everything sacred about motherhood and marriage. Worse yet, they thought she was just another "baby-brained" mom who would never catch on.

They seriously underestimated what a mother is capable of.

When Harper finds that mysterious $300 Victoria's Secret charge on their shared account, when she discovers Kieran's handwritten love notes hidden in Anya's room, when she overhears them mocking her "annoying" middle-of-the-night feedings—she realizes it's time to show them what a real "burning sensation" feels like.

So the next time they tried to sneak around, Harper secretly swapped out their lube for her own special blend.

If you want to play with fire, let me show you what burning really feels like.

Thirteen years. That's how long I loved Reid Holloway.
When he said he was being bullied, I believed him. When he kissed me on that rooftop, I thought he felt the same. When he asked me to transfer schools with him, I said yes without hesitation.
Then I heard him bragging to his friends: "She'd save her first time for me. Hell, she'd still be thinking of me on her wedding night."
The bullying was staged. The kiss meant nothing. He just wanted me gone—so his new girl could feel more comfortable.
He thought I'd beg. He thought I'd cry. He thought I'd never actually leave.
I left the country.
And ran straight into his stepbrother.

I was kidnapped at five. Found at sixteen. Dead at nineteen.
My parents are top transplant surgeons. The night I was murdered, they were saving my sister's life with a "legally sourced" donor heart. They signed the paperwork themselves.
That heart was mine. Cut from my chest while I was still breathing.
The sister they saved? She's the one who handed me to the killer.
For three years I lived under their roof. They slapped me for things she did. They called me ungrateful when I couldn't donate a kidney I'd already lost. They forgot my birthday to throw her a party.
And when I went missing, they didn't look for me. Dad said, "Even if she dies out there, she has no one to blame but herself."
He was right. I did die out there. And he's the one who signed off on what happened next.

I spent two years quietly building something I thought was worth building.
Full recovery support after birth, someone checking in on meals, leave approved the moment you asked for it. I worked out a deal with the best facility in the city and covered the difference myself, out of my own account. Not a cent of company money.
I did it because I'd watched a good employee disappear from the company the year she got pregnant. No announcement. Her desk just cleared out one day.
Then one of them posted about it.
She called it surveillance. A golden cage. The comment section called me a predator. By morning it was trending.
Here's what none of them knew: not a single dollar of that program belonged to the company.
So I listened to what they wanted and gave them exactly that.
I shut the whole thing down.

On a full moon, every wolf has to be inside a registered shelter before moonrise. That's pack law.
So when my husband's leave finally lined up with a moon, I spent six months and eighty thousand dollars booking his whole family into a top-tier sanctuary on Silverspine Ridge. Then his first love decided she wanted to come.
Instead of telling her no, he gave her my registered bed — and sent me a queue number for the state shelter, a thirty-six-hour line for a bunk in an open ward full of rogues. I looked at his parents, his sister, waiting for one of them to object. Every single one of them took his side.
So fine. I drove the other way, and spent the next three full moons enjoying myself — alone. That's when the whole family started to panic...

Our ceremony was ambushed underground. One exit. Corvin was the only one who could move fast enough to carry someone out.
In my last life, he chose me — and left Niamh behind. She didn't make it. He spent five years after that making sure I understood what that meant. Every day I woke up was a day she couldn't. When I finally ran out of ways to leave quietly, I chose a window that faced east and walked into it.
Now I'm back. Same corridor, same chaos, same choice.
This time, I said: "Take Niamh."
The way his shoulders came down — like something he'd been holding for years, finally put down — told me everything five years together never did.
He promised to come back. He was already moving when he said it.
I knew I had to get out myself. But the ferals who'd killed Niamh last time found my corridor before I made it to the stairs.

Our plane went down on a deserted island. The boat fit two. My fiancé Callum was the only one who could drive it.
In my last life, he chose me — and left his childhood sweetheart Vesper behind. She didn't survive. He spent five years making sure I knew it was my fault. Every day I breathed was a day she couldn't. When I held a knife to my throat to get a divorce, he drove us both into the sea.
Now I'm back. Same island, same wreckage, same choice.
This life, I said: "Take Vesper."
The relief on his face — the way his whole body unclenched — told me everything five years of marriage never did.
He promised he'd come back for me. He didn't look back once.
I knew I had to save myself. But the bear — the same one that ate Vesper in my last life — reached the crash site before I could move.

My best friend could charm any man alive. I just didn't know how — not until it was too late.
Every boyfriend I ever had, she'd get close, turn on that pull of hers, and wait. They always fell. Then she'd send me the proof with the same sweet line: "Babe, you should be thanking me. I just saved you from another cheater."
Five boyfriends. Five "loyalty tests." Five relationships she destroyed and called it a favor.
I ran. Started over in a new pack. Found my fated mate — Callum Drake, the Alpha of Silver Ridge. For the first time in years, I felt safe.
On our mating ceremony day, she walked into my dressing room wearing an attendant's uniform.
She drugged my wine. Put on my robes. Crawled into my mate's bed.
I caught her. Threw her out. Thought it was over.
Months later, I was bleeding out in labor — and my mate stood over me, refusing to save me, because he'd been in love with her the whole time.
I died on that table.
When I opened my eyes, I was back. Same day. Same ceremony. Same best friend, same smile.
This time, I didn't scream.

The winter I was eight, I found my own face in a trash can.
It was on a missing-child flyer. The girl on it had been gone five years. She had a birthmark on the back of her neck.
So did I.
There was a reward. A number with a long row of zeros. I didn't want it.
I was cold. I hadn't eaten since yesterday.
I just wanted a mom.
So that night, with a stranger's coins, I called the number at the bottom.
A woman answered on the first ring and screamed a name at me like it was mine.
She got to say it three times.
Then a hand came out of the dark behind me and hung up the phone for me.

Our team lost four games in a row. And somehow, that became my fault.
Team captain Reid stood in the locker room and told everyone I'd been giving performance enhancers to my ex on the rival team — that I had a problem with athletes, that I couldn't control myself. The guys laughed. Nobody stopped him.
I went to my supervisor Paige for help. She told me Reid noticing me at all was something I should be grateful for. That the way I dressed was basically asking for it.
Then the university president called me in and made things very clear: push this any further, and my academic future disappears.
Every single person with authority had already chosen a side.
So I climbed the stairs to Paige's office, hand raised to knock —
And stopped.
Because I could hear her through the door, clearly touching herself — whispering Reid's name.

Someone posted a love confession to me on the campus board the same week I got nominated for the Outstanding Thesis Award. By that evening, my roommate's boyfriend had already commented—claiming I'd slept with our professor and faked my entire thesis.
My roommate swore she'd handle it.
She didn't.
A used condom appeared at my lab bench. Photos of a woman leaving my advisor's building at 2 a.m. went viral. The university pulled my thesis. My professor told me to disappear quietly. My parents drove six hours to slap me and tell me my sister would never.
I lost my degree, my family, and my name. Then I lost my life.
The night I died, I finally saw what I'd missed in those photos—a detail that proved it was never me.
I woke up three weeks before my thesis defense.
I remember everything. And this time, I'm not keeping quiet.

My bestie Isolde and I were lured to a resort in another country.
Crescent Bay, a place that turned She-wolves into property.
Any wolf with enough money could have us for the night. That was the arrangement. That was what we were worth, once we were in.
When my husband Cael broke through the gates with a unit of Hargrove Pack warriors, I was in the back room counting the night's take. Top earner three months running.
Isolde was in the basement. Brain-dead. Pregnant. The machines were the only reason her heart was still beating.
Hargrove Pack put up half a million dollars for the name of whoever had trafficked us.
I was the only one who knew. I said nothing.
Vivienne — Cael's mother, Isolde's Luna — got down on her knees in front of me and begged. I closed my eyes.
Pack enforcers questioned me three times. I gave them the same answer every time, which was no answer at all.
Then Cael ran out of patience. He called for a witch to extract my memories and put them in front of everyone who had ever known me.

I've been engaged to the same man seven times.
Every time his first love Dove flies back, my engagement gets cancelled. And I get shipped off to another country.
But that's not the worst part.
Before I leave, I have to erase every trace of myself from our home. Take down the photos. Pack away my clothes. Remove my toothbrush so she won't feel "uncomfortable."
Seven years. Seven countries. Seven rings gathering dust in a drawer.
Zero marriage certificates.
He always promises we'll get married once she leaves. And like a fool, I believed him. Every single time.
Until now.
This time, I'm not coming back.

I hid in my best friend's closet to catch my fiancé cheating.
Through the gap in the door, I saw them on the bed. Tessa was blindfolded, wrists tied to the headboard with silk scarves. Callum's hands wrapped around her throat—some kind of breath play, I guessed.
Then her moaning turned to choking.
Her body convulsed. Her bound hands clawed at nothing. Her legs kicked against the mattress.
Then stopped.
Callum released her throat. Checked her pulse. Sighed.
And lit a cigarette.
He sat there scrolling his phone next to her body. No panic. No CPR. No 911.
Like this wasn't his first time watching someone die.
I bit my hand to keep from screaming. Blood seeped across the floor toward my bare feet.
Then he walked toward the closet.
I escaped that night. Barely. Ran three floors up to my neighbor's apartment—Dr. Neve Ashton, a trauma therapist. Beautiful. Warm. The kind of woman who made you feel safe just by existing.
She pulled me inside, locked the door, handed me tea.
"I called the police," she said. "They're on their way."
An hour passed. No sirens.
I looked at her. She smiled.

Five years. That's what I gave Vaelor, Crown Prince of the Dark Elves.
I was already dressed for the betrothal ceremony when I caught his voice through the gap in the council hall door.
"You're really going through with it? The human?"
"Of course. The Alliance has kept a blade at our throats for years. Their leader's apprentice, given to us in marriage—that puts it away."
"But if she suspects—"
"She won't."
"And Lyseth—"
"Lyseth is who matters. The human is manageable."
I didn't make it out of the courtyard. A blade came from the darkness before I could summon a defense.
When I woke up, I remembered everything. Aldric. Isara. The Alliance. Five years of roads, every step.
Just not his face.
Aldric's messenger stone was on the nightstand. Short, direct: Return to the Alliance. Political marriage. Orc Royal House.
I wrote back: Seven days.

I waited twenty years for my wolf.
She never came. No first shift at sixteen. No stirring at eighteen. Nothing. My parents crossed the continent chasing rare awakening herbs—moonpetal, silverroot, anything with a rumor attached.
None of it worked.
I died without ever hearing her voice. Throat torn open in my own bed by Brennan Falk, the son of my live-in caretaker.
That's when I finally learned why she never woke.
The "awakening blend" Dorene brewed me every night was laced with wolfsbane. Enough to keep my wolf buried forever. Enough to keep me weak, wolfless, and easy to kill.
And the awakening chamber my parents built for me—the one I was too heartbroken to ever set foot in—had been housing her entire family. Five rogues, living under my floor for over a year, eating my food, selling my herbs, waiting for the right moment.
After I died, they forged my exile papers. My parents flew home from an herb auction in Ashmoor to an empty house and a letter. They believed their daughter had given up and left the pack.
Then I opened my eyes. Three days before Brennan's fangs.
The first thing I did was text a witch about the awakening chamber.

My daughter's wolf has never woken. Until her first shift, one dose a season is all that keeps it alive. And I brew that dose myself and send it to the supply hall under the healers' guild seal.
This season, my husband's mistress took it from us at the supply hall and fed it to her own daughter in front of forty wolves. Then she pressed my girl's palm onto a silver bar, to prove we were the thieves.
"Save your tears for my man," she said. "Captain Roark Fenn."
That's my husband's name.
Neither of them knows what I did in the war. By moonrise, the whole pack will.

I thought I was driving into my mating ceremony. Instead, Calder's mother met the car with a tray — a silver collar lined with spikes, and a rusty pincer for pulling out my sharpest fang. Blackbriar rules, she said. Every Luna wears one. And Calder, the man who never once raised his voice at me back in the city, just stood there like all of this was perfectly reasonable. So I told the driver to turn around. That's when the logs came down across the road. My phone had no signal. Willa was bleeding. And Calder was crouched on the hood of my car, telling me I could walk into that pack hall on my own, or be carried in. He'd done his homework on me — my money, my bloodline, my dowry. All of it, except one thing. The bone whistle around my neck. And what happens when I blow it.

For years, I believed a rival family had stolen my children. Four of them — two baby boys, then my newborn twins. Every time, my husband wept. He swore revenge. He held me while I screamed myself sick.
Tonight I went down to the basement looking for him. The door was open a crack. He was kissing another woman.
"I threw both incubators off the cliff myself," he laughed. "Didn't even blink."
He killed all four. To clear a path for his mistress's son.
He runs the family now. He thinks grief has broken me — that I'll spend the rest of my life crying in the bed we shared.
He forgot one thing. I'm the old don's daughter. This family was never his.
It's mine.

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.

In my last life, I was the one who stopped it.
The second I recognized what was in that cup—a cold medicine loaded with compounds that end any pilot's career on contact with a drug screening—I knocked it out of Ivy's hands. Reid shoved me so hard I hit the coffee table. He got his four stripes anyway. Then he publicly destroyed my reputation, stood by while his fans harassed me off the internet, and smiled when I was pushed down a flight of stairs.
I died knowing he never looked back.
This time, I come back as myself: senior aviation medical officer, five years into a relationship with a man I now see clearly. When Ivy holds out that same cup with that same bright smile, I already know exactly what's in it.
I take a step back.
"Drink it while it's hot," I tell him. "Don't leave a drop."
I spent one lifetime being everyone's safety net. Not this time.

My boyfriend faked being broke to test me. Three years of it.
When I turned down his last test, I watched him settle his new girlfriend's family debt in one afternoon. Cash he swore he never had.
Told me he'd been rich the whole time. Said he needed to know if I loved him or his money.
Said I failed.
I didn't argue. I just walked out.
Funny thing is, I wasn't broke either. I was the last pureblood heir to the strongest pack on the continent, and I'd been hiding that the whole time too.
Four years later, we ran into each other again. And this time I wasn't hiding anything.

They called me a hellcat. A she-wolf tyrant. The Luna who made her Alpha husband obey.
I held him together when his father died. Built his dying pack into a powerhouse while he flirted with she-wolves.
Then he brought home his "fated mate."
Everyone waited for me to explode.
Instead, I smiled. "I'll help you prepare the ceremony."
That's when my wolf—dormant for years—began to wake.