20 Book(s) Related to hellbound parents guide

"I, Isaac Gallagher, reject you, Sylvia Withmore as my mate," he sneered, his words slicing through the silent pack house as he stared at me with absolute disgust.

I was the traitor's spawn. A weak omega who hadn't even shifted. He publicly humiliated me, leaving me to rot while he walked away with his new Beta. My world crumbled that night, and I swore I would never let my ruthless Alpha break me again. We were sent to a human college to hide our true nature, and I was forced to watch him become the popular hockey star, pretending I didn't exist.

But the moon goddess has a twisted sense of humor.

When the full moon hit, the arrogant Alpha lost control. The humans were hunting us, and Isaac was transforming right on the icy rink. I had to drag his massive, convulsing body into the dark woods before the hunters could put a bullet in his skull. Now, he is backed against a tree, his eyes a brilliant, demonic red, his fangs fully fully elongated. The man who threw me away like trash is now gripping my arms, his heavy, misting breaths crashing against my face.

"You..." he rasped, his voice dropping into something impossibly dark and desperate. "You are the only one who can get me through the full moon."

Will I save the Alpha who destroyed my life, or leave him to the hunters' slaughter?

“Mine,” he snarled against her ear, pounding into her with wet, filthy sounds. “This tight little pussy is mine. Say it.”

“Yours…” she sobbed, legs wrapping around his waist. “Mi Ravial, it’s yours…”

He fucked her harder, one hand still around her throat, the other pinning her wrist above her head. The floor was cold against her back, but she didn’t care. Every brutal thrust sent sparks of pleasure-pain through her body. She was soaking, dripping down his cock as he took her like a man possessed.

“You ran from me,” he growled, biting her bottom lip until it bled. “Made me hunt you like an animal. Now I’m going to take you like one.”

Leitana could only moan dazely, lost in the overwhelming sensation of him. He was so deep, so rough, hitting that perfect spot over and over until her eyes rolled back.

When she came, it hit her like a storm. She clenched around him, screaming his name, body shaking violently. Ravial didn’t stop. He fucked her through it, harder, chasing his own release.

With a deep, guttural groan, he buried himself to the hilt and came, flooding her with hot pulses. He stayed inside her, hips grinding slowly as he emptied every drop.

Leitana lay limp beneath him, breathing ragged, body trembling with aftershocks.

Ravial finally lifted his head, his voice was dark, satisfied, and dangerously soft.

“Next time you run, little lamb… I won’t be so gentle.”

He kissed her swollen lips once more, slow and deep, as if sealing a promise.

Outside the room, the rest of the villa was still pitch black.

I didn’t move. I couldn’t. The Lycan took another step toward me, lowering his head. His golden eyes softened, not completely, but enough to show a flicker of something other than hate. Recognition?

My trembling hand hovered in the air before landing gently against his snout. He didn't bite or growl. He… leaned in?

And everyone lost their minds.

"No one touches the Alpha like that!" someone cried. "Especially not a slave."

"How is she not dead?"

Ari Shimmer got demoted from being the Luna and was also banished from her pack the same day. Not only had she found her mate and fiancé in bed with her sister, but he had also called her sacrifices worthless. Even though it cost her her wolf and her womb.
Just when she thought all was lost, Alpha Stone, a mad Lycan king found her. The King's ailment that had no cure or anyone who could calm his wolf suddenly turned soft for Ari, shocking everyone in Ricko, the Lycan pack. This raised the question for Ari. Would she stop to help the mad king in a strange pack? Or would she take the risk of facing the dangers of the outside world?

She said "Beware the enemy that hides in plain sight."

Ophelia Rodrigo, the only daughter of the city’s most successful business tycoons, was only sixteen years old when everything she loved was torn away from her in a single night. Ruthless thieves invaded the Rodrigo mansion, leaving behind blood, broken glass, and the haunting memory of her parents’ merciless deaths. Hidden in terror, Ophelia watched helplessly as the empire her family spent decades building collapsed within hours, and for the first time in her sheltered life, she understood what it meant to become utterly alone. She believed that night would also claim her life, that the Rodrigo name would vanish together with her.

Instead, she was saved by the last man she ever expected.

Dimitri Cox, the city’s youngest billionaire and her father’s most dangerous business rival, became the one person who made sure the final surviving Rodrigo did not disappear with the ashes of her family. He was the very man her parents had spent years trying to defeat, the name spoken with resentment inside their household, yet when everyone else was gone, it was Dimitri who took responsibility for the broken girl left behind by tragedy.

As the years pass, Ophelia grows into a woman burdened by grief, unanswered questions, and a hatred she no longer fully understands. She soon discovers that the massacre that destroyed her family was never an ordinary robbery, and every truth she uncovers leads to a conspiracy darker than she imagined. Forced to rely on Dimitri Cox, the cold and untouchable enemy who became her reluctant protector, Ophelia is pulled into a dangerous world of revenge, betrayal, and buried secrets, where the man she was raised to despise may be the only one willing to risk everything to keep her alive.

"You sure dispatch called this... natural causes?" I gripped the steering wheel, staring at the perfect suburban house.
"That's what they said," Gates muttered. The victim's father, Arthur, stood at the door in pressed khakis, weeping.
He swore his daughter, Grace, died in her sleep last night after eating vanilla pudding.
But the moment we stepped inside, a suffocating cocktail of cheap lavender spray and rotting meat punched me in the sinuses.
In the living room, SpongeBob SquarePants was blasting at maximum volume. Grace was slumped in a recliner. When Gates gently pinched her wrist to lift her arm, a sickeningly soft, tearing rip echoed in the room.
Her grayish skin completely degloved, fused to the leather armrest. Beneath the liquefied muscle tissue, frantic rows of tiny white maggots wriggled into the exposed bone.
A body that died "last night" doesn't breed maggots.

The fake heiress and I died twice fighting over the same thing—which of us would get adopted by that wealthy couple.

The first time, I got the necklace. I became their daughter. I thought I'd finally have everything I'd ever wanted. Three months later, they drowned me in the bathtub.

William's voice still echoes in my head. "This is your fault! If we'd taken Chloe instead, she'd still be alive!"

The second time, I gave Chloe the necklace. Let her have the good life. I thought that would keep me safe.

Five years later, Chloe turned up dead in their mansion. The Harringtons called the cops on me. They said I broke in and killed her out of jealousy. I died in prison, broken and tortured. The last thing I heard was Catherine's voice through the visiting room glass, cold as ice. "You belong in the gutter."

The third time, I open my eyes again.

I watch the couple smile at us, all warmth and kindness, and one question burns in my mind. Which daughter do they actually want?

"911, what's your emergency?"
What came through wasn't words—it was raw, desperate sobbing.
In Oak Creek, a well-respected couple called to report their daughter had died. But when officers stepped through the door, what they found made a veteran sheriff drop to his knees and retch—
Their 36-year-old daughter had become part of the couch.
Her body had fused with decomposing foam, waste, and writhing maggots. Skin adhered to cracked leather. Her stomach contained couch padding and her own feces. She weighed 65 pounds.
Through tears, her parents explained: "She had severe autism... wouldn't let anyone touch her..."
But neighbors told a different story: Nobody had laid eyes on this girl in twelve years.
Then investigators found something beneath the couch—freshly used cleaning wipes.
Someone had crouched beside her decomposing body and methodically cleaned her. For days.
Then who stays that composed in hell?
Grief—or guilt?

My name used to be whispered in fear by dictators. Now, it’s mocked by cheerleaders.

I am—or I was—Phantom. I killed for a living, and I was the best. But my retirement plan was cut short by a sudden darkness I never saw coming.

Fate, it seems, has a twisted sense of humor. I’ve been reincarnated into the body of Raven Martinez, a high school girl with a life so tragic it makes my old job look like a vacation.

Now I have to deal with pop quizzes, teenage hormones, and a hierarchy of bullies who think they run the world.

They pushed the old Raven to her death. But they’re about to learn a very painful lesson: You don't corner a viper unless you're ready to get bitten.

High school is hell. Lucky for me, I'm the devil.

Hi, My name is Kat and I feel like I should make something clear. I am no expert on magic and there's no reason why I should be. Us humans only discovered that magic exists a few years ago and really it wasn't the big deal you would expect. it exists, I don't have any magic of my own so it makes no difference to my life.

So when I get asked to play tour guide for a stupidly handsome fae as he attempts to capture some escaped criminals I realise that the fae know about as much about us as we do about them. I find myself helping him navigate weird human things like mobile phones, credit cards and why we wait at red lights when there are no cars approaching.

It's safe to say that I'm a little overwhelmed by it all.

But it will be fine, right? I mean, It's not like I'm the one facing down criminals or, even worse... Crazy fae fangirls. All I have to do is show the hot guy around and do my best not to embarrass myself too much in the process. What could go wrong?

Wish me luck!

The end of the world arrives, and zombies run rampant across the city.
I was the first to awaken a top-tier superpower, instantly taking out half a street full of zombies.
I led a group of survivors to fight our way out of the deadly encirclement, seized the abandoned military factory in the east of the city, and built a safe haven there.
I was the fearsome tyrant who struck terror into every corner of the surrounding lands.
The official safe base tried to recruit me three times, but I threw their men and vehicles straight out of my territory.
A research lab came seeking partnership, and I burned down their sampling vehicle to the ground.
I set all the rules of the base. Anyone who defied me would be cast outside the city walls to feed the zombies.
All the food, medicine and safety in the base were fought back by me and my people, risking our lives amid swarms of zombies.
Everyone respected and feared me. The only soft spot I had was reserved for my girlfriend Xu Qinghe, who crawled out of the pile of the dead right beside me.
The research lab released earth-shattering news: one in ten thousand superpower awakeners could evolve into the Superpower King. A bright red vein on the inner forearm was the mark of the savior.
All the survivors instantly gave up fighting. They abandoned guarding the city walls and gathering supplies, kneeling every day to wait for the arrival of the Superpower King.
Until my girlfriend brought back a delicate young man with the red vein on his forearm. The entire base worshipped him as a deity.
I, who had guarded the base with my life for three long years, was driven out of the city gates to be eaten by zombies.
A million-strong zombie tide surrounded the city, while the so-called Superpower King they revered collapsed on the ground, screaming and wailing in panic.
As everyone sank into despair, waiting helplessly for death, I glanced down at the red line on my forearm and smiled.
This time, it’s my turn to make my entrance.

In the apocalyptic freeze, temperatures plummeted to seventy below zero. The earth was encased in ice, and ice beasts roamed everywhere.

I risked my life to scavenge for food, covered in wounds, enduring cold and hunger, leaving all our meager supplies for my parents and brother.

I thought blood was thicker than water, that all the suffering and hardship was worth it.

But I never imagined that when our resources ran out, the family I'd protected with my life would reveal their true beastly nature. They ambushed and knocked me unconscious, tied me to an ice pillar, planning to use me as food rations—to eat me alive.

At the moment of near death, the ice jade my grandfather left me suddenly shattered. I awakened top-tier ice abilities, commanding frost and snow, controlling the extreme cold.

My kindness had been frozen to death by the bitter cold. Family meant nothing.

Those who betrayed me, deceived me, and tried to eat me—I wouldn't spare a single one.

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.

After being lost for ten years, I was finally brought home by my biological parents.
They stood in the cramped basement and asked me, "The family went bankrupt a month ago. You won't hold it against us for being poor, will you?"
Overcome with emotion, I hugged them tightly and shook my head fervently.
Later, my father was diagnosed with uremia and needed a large sum of money for surgery. To earn money, I worked three jobs a day, eventually collapsing from exhaustion and being diagnosed with a brain tumor. With no time for treatment, I rushed to deliver food orders.
Unexpectedly, I ran into my father—who should have been in the hospital undergoing dialysis—having booked an entire shopping mall to celebrate the adopted daughter's birthday. My mother, wearing an gorgeous gown I'd never seen before, smiled as she embraced the girl.
"Lily, our precious, Mommy and Daddy will give you everything you want."
My brother, who they said had died in an accident while searching for me, was dotingly putting a diamond necklace on the girl.
It turned out the family hadn't gone bankrupt at all—I just wasn't worthy.

"Baby, lend me Stella for the movie."
When my fiancé Damon said this, I thought it was the most romantic thing ever. My guide dog starring in his Oscar-worthy film—what a perfect love story.
I'm Aria Sinclair, 26-year-old blind film producer with perfect pitch and endless money, but no eyes. So when he said "The press will go crazy for our story," I stupidly agreed.
Three weeks later, in the editing room:
01:47:23—Dull impact.
01:47:31—Familiar whimper.
01:47:35—Silence.
My perfect pitch never lies. That wasn't CGI—that was real impact. Worse, I knew that whimper. That was Stella, my guide dog, my eyes, my most loyal companion.
They killed her. For a goddamn trophy.
On premiere night, when Damon walked the red carpet with a strange German Shepherd, when I touched her paw and found no white star-shaped mark—
"This is not my dog!"
I broke down in front of hundreds of reporters.
"Honey, you're under too much stress," Damon said gently. "Maybe you need rest."
Whispers from the audience: "Poor blind girl..." "She really needs help..."
Just like that, I became the crazy one.
Abandoned by the world.
Betrayed by the man I loved most.
But they made one fatal mistake—they thought stealing my eyes would silence me.
Now it's time to let them hear what despair sounds like...
[Click to watch me destroy them both...]

After many thousands of years, the flame of war between human clans and demon clans continued to cause chaos. However, in just a few years in the future, one kingdom managed to bring harmony to these two clans. Come and go as you like but never harm. If you do, punishment awaits you.

Zeliker (Demon Prince): I wish to see the peace created like the Eskimos Kingdom.

Stiria (Human Princess/Duo?): It is not impossible. You are from the demon royalty. Maybe your presence will create the peace you seek. We are here to help you, Zeliker.

Sektar (Human King): You want to marry my daughter? Are you not afraid of the hatred from your father, the demon king?

Nekruis (Demon King): I'm going to see the princess who captured my son's heart. If she is unworthy, might as well kill her before she taints him more.

Author Warning!
This is a dark novel. Some parts may contain scenes that are unsuitable for underage such as abuse and torture.

I have been tormented by a strange illness for ten years, with blood draws and surgeries being commonplace.
My mother always encouraged me, saying, "Nian Nian, bear with it a little longer. The pain will be over soon. Mom and Dad are doing this to save your life."
Hoping to be cured as soon as possible, I gritted my teeth and endured ten years of painful treatments, even if it meant living like a lab subject.
That was until I accidentally overheard my parents’ cruel conversation:
“Increase the blood draw even more. It doesn’t matter if she dies—she was only picked up to save Ying Ying. As long as she has a breath left, she owes it to us.”
At that moment, I finally understood: I was never sick at all.
The decade of daily treatments were nothing but a way to use me to extend the life of their biological daughter.

First book of a two part series

Aaron was a sociopath. He was manipulative. He played me and I danced to his tune. I fell in love with him, I fell deep into the ploy of his plan. Furious tears ran down my cheeks as I felt my blood boil. I remained calm, I couldn't betray the rage I felt.

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.