91 Book(s) Related to marlo kelly

"Before we start, I put a sleeping pill in the wife's milk,No matter how loud we get tonight, she won't wake up."

The mistress whispered with a cruel smile.

Nora Hearst lay hidden beneath the bed, listening to the ragged breathing of her husband and her so-called best friend on their marital bed.

They even found her wheelchair too much of an obstacle, casually dragging her fragile body onto the freezing floor.

The man who had pursued her for four years

a man who once claimed he would die for her——was now whispering to that woman:

"Nora can't satisfy me, but you... you're wild enough."

Her hand tightened around the voice recorder hidden in her sleeve.

Memories flooded back: the car accident where she sacrificed her legs to save his life, and the precious surprise growing inside her womb that he had been so eagerly awaiting.

Kennedy Frederick , she vowed silently, in sixty-six days, I will make you kneel and listen to every second of this recording.

I will destroy you at the very moment you think your life is perfect.

For fifteen years, Anastasia Stafford lived a life defined by a single, cruel purpose: to serve as a living blood bank for her adopted sister.

She gave everything—her health, her talent, and her dignity—only to be discarded and betrayed by the very family she tried so hard to please.

Her first life ended in tragedy, falling from a building with nothing but regret.

But fate has granted her a second chance.

Waking up on her twenty-third birthday, Anastasia decides she is done being the silent victim.

She steps away from the toxic Stafford Family and turns to the one thing they could never take from her: her extraordinary talent for design.

She catches the eye of Richard Roosevelt , a powerful CEO who offers her a partnership rather than pity.

Anastasia is no longer just surviving;

she is systematically dismantling the family that ruined her ，and hunting for the truth behind her mother’s death.

Watching the superstar dancer Celeste Brown lean weakly into her husband’s arms with a terminal illness diagnosis in hand, she cooed softly,

“William, all I want is to stay by your side for what little time I have left.”

Rebecca Percy could only watch with a broken heart as her husband showered another woman with tenderness.

She watched her own son be manipulated into growing distant from her day by day.

On that rainy night, she finally let go of all her forbearance, turned around resolutely, and walked away without looking back.

Soon, the top cardiologist Whitaker cleared every obstacle in her path.She made a stunning comeback as a gifted painter.

Celeste’s “terminal illness” suddenly vanished overnight, and William Spencer’s world crumbled to pieces.

“Rebecca, you are the only one I’ve ever loved!”

She gently stroked her pregnant belly, a faint smile playing on her lips, yet her eyes remained icy cold.

“William Spencer, I wish you had never stepped into my world at all.”

Sold by her own family, Octavia Boleyn becomes the stand-in bride for Leopold Seymour—the blind, reclusive tycoon the business world fears and the tabloids call "the man who sees nothing."

Her family expects her to break. His rivals expect her to run.

They don't know she's been breaking rules her whole life.

Leopold Seymour built a fortress around himself the day the world went dark.

He doesn't trust the woman his family forced on him, but he can't ignore the way she moves through his house like she belongs there—or the way she handles his business enemies with a sharpness that matches his own.

She has secrets. So does he.

The difference is, he's determined to uncover hers… and keep her from uncovering his.

But Leopold never planned on wanting the truth to be a reason to stay.

Betrayed, exploited, and left to die in a cold basement by the family she called her own, Eleanor Hamilton’s life ended in despair.

But fate grants her a second chance.

She wakes up five years in the past, back when she was still the submissive foster daughter trapped in a web of lies.

This time, she refuses to be their doormat.

Armed with memories of her tragic future, Eleanor vows to tear down the hypocritical masks of her adoptive mother and sister.

Yet, revenge is a dangerous game, and she needs power to survive.

Enter Tristan Douglas—the ruthless, enigmatic CEO who holds the city in his grasp.

He is the one man her enemies fear most.

What begins as a strategic alliance soon ignites into an intense romance.

Under Tristan’s absolute protection, the once-timid girl transforms into a dazzling queen.

As her enemies watch in horror, they realize too late:
the fragile foster daughter they discarded has returned, and she is untouchable.

Animal Biologist, Isobelle Harding, lands the opportunity of a lifetime when the University sends her abroad to study a rare species of wolf. Unaware that the remote state of Whitehaven is a sanctuary for shifters, her presence captures the attention of the Bennett Brothers. The quadruplet werewolves want Isobelle for themselves, and the smoking-hot rangers are keen to study her anatomy intensively. Isobelle is about to find out exactly what it means when brothers who play together, stay together.

When Alpha King Rhys finally found his mate, he expected fireworks, a puzzle piece to click into place, a Luna to help him rule the kingdom, not this.. this savage rogue. A rogue whose intention had been to assassinate him.
Hated upon first sight, Amira cursed the Moon Goddess to find out her mate was the tyrannical Alpha King she'd been trained to kill. With nothing left to do but reject the king and escape almost unscathed, neither Rhys nor Amira expected what came next. It was unheard of to reject the gift the Moon Goddess blessed them with.
Only a few were granted a mate, and Alpha King Rhys and Amira did precisely that- Rejected the gift. Cursed by the Moon Goddess, they wake up inside each other's bodies.
Switched to live in each other's worlds, Rhys and Amira are forced to figure out how to return to their original forms. Can they stop fighting, bickering, and scheming against each other, or will this curse open their minds and hearts to each other's troubles?

“I will call you, and you will come, everytime. If I want you on your knees, you get on your knees. If I want you on the bed, you get on the fucking bed. You belong to me. You are my pet. Mine. You said you would do anything to live? This is what it will cost. I am a very dangerous man with dangerous enemies, and friends. You do what I want and I let you be. You tell me no, and I shatter your jaw. Do you fucking understand me?” He snarls, waving his gun in the air.

I don’t understand but I nod still. “Okay.”

“You have a very skilful mouth. If I catch you fucking around, I’ll make you beg for death. You belong to Nathaniel Bianchi. Don’t ever forget that.” He seethes, and I nod.

“Yes, I belong to you.”

I don’t want to belong to him, but I want to live, and if this is the price to pay, then I will.


Asher witnessed what he shouldn’t have. A murder that shattered his world. Nathaniel Bianchi is a Don on a mission. For over a decade, he has hunted the people responsible for his parents’ deaths, and now that search has led him to Asher Donovan, an innocent chef he is determined to claim and to taint. To survive, Asher agrees to do whatever Nathaniel demands. He doesn’t expect to become Nathaniel’s possession, his pet, but there is no turning back. Boundaries blur, and what begins as control and desire quickly spirals into something deeper, something more dangerous than either of them anticipated.

Both men carry demons, Nathaniel’s are dark and lethal, Asher’s are buried and raw, but they are willing to fight for a chance at each other.

Phantoms is an elite team of paranormal investigators, each with their own reasons for seeking the answers to life after death.

GHOST OF A PROMISE
Jackson and Ava must determine if they're sharing something real...or if they've merely been possessed by a love that never died.
A Catherine Award-Winning book!

GIVE UP THE GHOST
Paul and Kerry are beginning to realize that perhaps the only way to find love is to face death.

GHOST OF YOU
Nothing will prepare Cain and Sammy for the evil they are about to face.
A Holt Medallion Award Finalist!

Ghost hunting just got sexy!

Phantoms Trilogy is created by Kelly Moran, an eGlobal Creative Publishing signed author.

Welcome to Redwood Ridge, a small town teeming with charm where three meddling matchmakers are determined to give everyone a happily-ever-after.

Anthology featuring Books 1-6: Puppy Love, Tracking You, New Tricks, Residual Burn, Under Pressure, and Mistletoe Magic.

Redwood Ridge is created by Kelly Moran, an eGlobal Creative Publishing signed author.

“You want me,” Ace said with a smirk, his fingers grazing Spades’ cheek.

“I see it in your eyes, in the way your body responds to mine. You want me just as much as I want you. So why fight it, Spades? Why fight me?” he murmured, pressing their bodies together.

Spades stood frozen, torn between desire and dread, his heart hammering. Rage flickered in his voice.

“You’re married to my stepsister. You’re the heir to the Bratva. Do I need to list more reasons why this is a terrible idea? Why will this never work? You chose her, Ace. You married her. Think. Let me go.”

Ace’s eyes turned stormy.

“Never,” he growled—and then he kissed him.

Karlin “Ace” Marakov is the heir to the Bratva, the ruthless Russian Mafia. Arrogant, violent, and dangerously reckless, Ace destroys everything he touches. Tired of his self-destruction, his father—the Pakhan—forces him into marriage with Nina Ivanov, the daughter of his closest ally.

But Ace never wanted Nina.

He wanted her stepbrother.

Spades Ivanov grew up with nothing. Every meal was earned, every step forward fought for. Adopted by Lee Ivanov, he’s fiercely loyal—loyal enough to follow any order, no matter the cost.

When Ace and Spades crash into each other, it’s volatile, electric, and impossible to ignore. The tension becomes unbearable. Ace wants him—and he'll burn their entire world to the ground to have him.

Because in Ace’s mind, Spades is his.

"First of all, I have a boyfriend, and I've never been with anyone else while I was with him, and secondly, you have a girlfriend, and you're used to cheating on her with any girl, and I don't want to be one of them," I say and tries to move away, but he holds me between his body and the table.

"And who says you're one of them?" he nibbles my lip, making me gasp "You're better, you're unique." he says and with that, I give myself into his arms, allowing him to kiss me like I've never been kissed before.

That feeling Zac gave me when he touched my lips one more time made me feel as bold and daring as I've ever felt. It made me feel a rush of adrenaline to do something that was forbidden and delicious at the same time. And as I've always said since the beginning, he brought out things in me that I hated, a part of me that I detested.

But at that moment, I loved it.

I was 18 when my father arranged a marriage with a young multibillionaire man to make peace between our families, I didn't want this.

Isaac Miller is a multimillionaire, he owns thousands of companies across the world and I'm just Claudia Richardson; 18 years old, kind, innocent and caring.

~~
This is it, the moment everyone's been waiting for. Everyone but me.

"Do you Isaac Stone Miller, take Claudia Rose Richardson to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold in sickness and in health. To love and to care?" The priest asks.

"I do," he responds.

"Now, do you Claudia Rose Richardson take Isaac Stone Miller to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold in sickness and in health. To love and to care?"

So many thoughts are swarming around in my head, I want to shout NO! But I can't, I look out at the crowd. Everyone is looking at me, mother is smiling, father is leaning forward in his seat.

The ones you love the most hurt you the most. I will always question why I made this choice, why I said yes, it was my fathers fault. But my own heart stopped as I softly said to the man that I don't and will never love; "Yes."

A Cursed Alpha. A Made Omega. A Deadly Game.

Every ten years, Lycanotropes host a competition to choose the Alpha Supreme. Every ten years, 20 competitors participate.

Only a quarter survive.

When Elise Attwood is offered freedom in exchange of accompanying Alpha Luke Winters on the Hunt, she has no reason to refuse.

After 8 weeks of blood, mayhem, fruitless feeling and dark secrets, will things ever remain the same?

I grew up being my father’s prisoner, didn’t know the outside world. Not in the way I wanted, I was tired of doing only your wishes and living only in my own home. What I most desire is to be free, to live and to love without limits.
And I did, as soon as I met him.
Jordan, it was different and at first glance it won me, it became my salvation, and my redemption. He was much more than I imagined, was the love of my life, but what we did not imagine, however, was that because of intrigues involving our families in the past, our love would be put to the test and thus, we would be separated without knowing for sure what fate reserved us.

"In the end, the guy doesn't change for the girl, the girl is still broken and they don't end up together."

He was cold
He was tormented
He was cruel
He was ruthless
He was powerful
He couldn't love
He killed
He was the alpha of doom

She was fragile
She was sweet
She was kind
She loved anyone
She was broken
She was tortured
She was an omega

they tried to hide their past from her, but of course your past always comes running back- haunting you and reminding you of everything that you did wrong.
••
The truth behind Jake Collins intentions were hidden. A dark soul that only wanted vengeance, not caring whom he hurt in the end and the repercussions.

Faye Lacuna, was the chosen one. The one he would use and pretend to love, just to get to her father. The one that he would hurt to no end, even if he loved her.

Young master Dominic Thales got involved in an accident that left him in a coma for three years.

His new wife, Brielle, who had been six months pregnant at the time of his accident was pampered by his family till suddenly a tragedy struck the Thales group sending their finances rock bottom.

Brielle was taken back by her family who swore that she’d never see her husband and her sons would be under their name.

Seven years later, Dominic Thales awoke but he is no longer the respected young master and his beloved wife had been taken from him.

Can he overcome and get back his wealth and wife? And was his accident a mistake or was there someone after his life?

Most of her life all Sasha Stone has ever known is pain. After her pack was attacked when she was 6, she had been taken prisoner. After years of abuse Sasha finally runs way bringing along her 3 month old son. With no where to go, she settles down in a small town in Oregon called called Crystal Waters. With no form of education Sasha takes the job as a maid for one of the most powerful soon to be Alpha of all time. The thing is, she has no idea that he is the most powerful Alpha and that he is her mate.

Zephania Abrahms is tired. Not only does he still have to finish off his senior year in high school, he is also being prepared to take the Alpha position which can happen soon. With having no time to do anything, Zephania hires a maid to clean the house so he has more time, little did he know he just hired his mate and that she has a son.

Will Zephania be able to look past that his mate has a son and accept her or will he reject her for making a family without him?

Will Sasha be able to look past her abuse and just let fate take its course or will her stubborness and fear keep her from being truly happy.

And what will happen when some one is after Sasha and her son? Will Zephania be able to protect what is his?

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

I came back to New York for one reason: to meet the man my mother arranged for me to marry.
I never made it to dinner.
His "sister"—the woman he'd been protecting since childhood, the one he clearly loved more than he'd ever love a fiancée he'd never met—snatched a twelve-thousand-dollar dress out of my hands at a Fifth Avenue boutique and had me thrown out. When I called him about it, he told me I should be grateful to be marrying into his family at all. Then he hung up.
An hour later, she accused me of stealing her ring. Had me pinned against the wall. Told his men to strip me down and film it for "evidence."
Nico laughed when I told him the whole Ferrante family would answer for this.
"With what? You?"
My name is Sera Vitti.
That's all I'll say.

On his deathbed, my husband Marcus confessed he'd swapped our baby with his mistress Chloe's seventeen years ago. Staring at his tearful, repentant face, I barely held back a laugh—I'd uncovered this secret sixteen years prior. I'd quietly swapped my real daughter back, sending his bastard to her cruel biological mother. Seventeen years of patience wasn't weakness, but waiting for the perfect moment. Now he's dying, Chloe's panicking, and my half-lifetime revenge? It's only just starting…

That December night, his first love and I were both rushed to the ER.
Two pregnant women. One operating room.
My doctor husband took three seconds to decide.
"She's an athlete. She can handle it," he told the nurse, then wheeled Sienna into surgery.
Leaving me—eight months pregnant with his baby—bleeding alone in the hallway.
When the nurse called begging him to come back, he said: "I'm at the pharmacy getting supplies for Sienna. Twenty minutes."
Twenty minutes later, I'm still alive.
He wishes I wasn't.

After being reborn, my cousin and I swapped mates.
Last life, she married Kaelen Thornfield — the coldest Alpha in the West. Fifty years together and he never marked her. Not once. His childhood "friend," an Omega with a PhD in crying on command, made sure of that. My cousin faded into nothing. Unmarked. Unloved. Invisible.
Me? I married a man who couldn't stand the sound of my voice. Eleven months. Done.
This time, I took the western contract. Drove three days across the country in a beat-up truck, blew a radiator in the middle of nowhere, and rolled into his pack's territory covered in engine grease and smelling like a gas station.
His little Omega took one look at me and wrinkled her nose.
She has no idea what's coming.
I don't do tears. I don't do subtle. And when some girl sobbed at my mating ceremony about how jealous she was of me — I grabbed my Alpha by the collar and sank my teeth into his neck.
In front of the entire pack.
Without asking.

The Blood Moon Festival ended the night Caelan Voss stood up in front of every faction in Aurevael and announced he only wanted one person.
Her name wasn't mine.
The other consorts took their gold and went home. The Ironpact warriors headed back to their barracks. The Sylvari delegation slipped out before the second toast. The Covenant scholars packed their notes. Reunions. Celebrations. The kind of night the holiday was made for.
I had nowhere to go.
The mark on my inner wrist had always been warm. Just a low, steady pulse—easy to ignore after a few years, like a clock you stop hearing. I pressed my fingers over it out of habit.
Cold.
The contract was over. Twenty-one years, four failed routes, and now this. The ancient binding that had pulled me into this world had made its verdict.
I went to find a rope.

My pack's golden girl—my adopted sister—vanished. On my eighteenth birthday—the day my wolf should have awakened—my parents dragged me to a witch.
"Show us what you did to her."
Fine. Let them look.
Let them see who drugged me the day I came home. Who stole credit while I bled. Who smiled while planning my destruction.
They chose their precious Rosalie over me for three years.
They wanted the truth?
They were about to choke on it.

The new member posted a yacht contract to the club group chat on her first day in. The caption read: Thanks for the birthday present, Dad 🥂
Ten seconds later she deleted it. Breezy apology. Oops, wrong group.
I looked at the photo one more time before it disappeared. I didn't check the numbers. I looked at the name painted across the bow.
It was my mother's name.
The boat was mine. My father had told me about it a week ago.
The chat didn't care. Which family is she from? Ninety-six feet of custom teak. Sienna, you dark horse.
I asked, quietly, if she'd share the registration number. I wanted to hear what she'd say.
My own husband stood up from two desks over and tore into me in front of every member in the room. Told me I was jealous. Told me I was an embarrassment. Told me to know my place.
Later that week, he broke into my safe. Took the diamond my father had given me for my mother — and put it around her neck.
That night my father's encrypted voice memo came in from somewhere at sea. One minute long. The last line was this:
"Find your mother's necklace. I can't wear her myself. I need you to wear her for me."

I waited five years for a heart transplant.
My mother—the Luna of our Pack, the healer everyone worships—gave it to someone else.
An orphan girl she took in. A girl who now calls her "Mom."
Ivy got my heart. She got a wolf. She got a mate and a wedding so grand the whole Pack attended.
Me? I watched from the corner, still dying, while my mother smiled for the cameras and accepted praise for her "selfless sacrifice."
When I finally snapped at the ceremony, she slapped me. Told me to apologize. Said I was embarrassing the family.
I'm her actual daughter. I'm the one who can't shift, can't feel a mate bond, can't survive another six months.
But sure. I'm the problem.
They wanted me to stay quiet and die gracefully.
I chose to make sure everyone sees who their perfect Luna really is.

My husband used my cottage to cheat on me. Fine. I found out, I drove three hours, and I walked into my own house to find his mistress wearing my dead grandmother's sweater.
She told me to leave.
He showed up, kissed her in front of me, then grabbed my arm and shoved me into the door frame.
That's when I had the asthma attack. He's known about my asthma for five years.
My inhaler rolled across the porch floor. His mistress picked it up, held it out, and told me to sign a statement saying I'd caused all of this. Then she'd give it back.
He looked at me on the ground and said: She's performing.
I'm sitting on the floor of my own grandmother's house, gasping, and my husband is telling the neighbors I'm acting.
Nobody thought to ask whose family manages every property on this coastline.

My foster brother Caelan swore he'd only ever marry me. Even though I'm the only human in a pack of wolves, for eighteen years he and his brother Ronan made me feel like I belonged.
Then Mira showed up—and suddenly she was his "fated mate."
I watched him bond with her while I choked on poisoned incense and collapsed. No one caught me. They were too busy wiping her tears.
Within a week, she had my room. My job. Eighteen years of memories—trashed.
They said I could never leave them.
They forgot about the vampire prince who's been waiting at the border for three months.
He never forgot me.

I'm Nora. Size 18. Transferred to my fourth school in four years. And on my very first day, the hottest guy in class leaned over and told me my seat had a weight limit.
That was Ethan Cross. Lacrosse captain, sharp jaw, zero empathy. He made it his personal mission to remind me I was fat — in the hallway, at lunch, in gym class, wherever he could get a laugh.
Then I found his sketchbook.
He'd left it open in the art room. I should've walked away. I didn't. I turned the page, and there I was — my body, my face, my hands — drawn over and over like he couldn't stop.
None of it was a joke. None of it was ugly.
So what the hell am I supposed to do with that?

My ex-husband found me selling hair clips at a flea market. Rosie was asleep in her stroller.
"Come home. She's too young for this."
I said yes.
After that, I stopped checking his phone.
Rosie stopped crying when the other girl took her toys.
He spent the night at Simone's—we didn't call.
We ran into them at the mall—we walked the other way.
We finally became what he always wanted. Easy. Quiet. No drama.
So why is he the one who can't sleep now?
"Why don't you get mad anymore?"
"Rosie, why won't you ask me to stay?"

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.