68 Book(s) Related to noah jupe

BLURB

Eli Morgan had spent years trying to survive Noah Carter.

Unfortunately, Noah Carter seemed determined to ruin his life.

As The College’s swim captain, campus heartthrob, and his older brother’s best friend, Noah had made teasing Eli his personal hobby, touching him too casually, acting possessive whenever Eli liked someone, and somehow inserting himself into every part of Eli’s life.

And somehow?

Nobody else thought it was weird.

Not even Ethan, Eli’s perfect older brother.

But when Eli finally starts dating someone seriously, Noah’s behavior changes from annoying to dangerous. The teasing becomes jealousy. The casual touches become possessive. And the tension between them becomes impossible to ignore.

She was scared of being caged up in her home where no one acknowledged her.

April seek for freedom and to be free comes with a great price

Eloping with her lover wasn't the best option but only option and answer to the very thing she desired most, freedom.

Her fears came rushing back in a strange city with no one to run to when the very person she trusted turns out to be a monster

Just when she was about to accept the scary fate staring at her, light came shining on her dark part. Philip, a handsome billionaire fell in love with her and she was ready to hold onto him as her only saving grace, April kept a huge secret from Phil which Louise threaten to expose if she does not do his evil biddings.

April was thrown into a dilemma when Louise gave her few days to meet his demand or she will be exposed and thrown back to the slum where she belongs, unknown to Louise that April was cooking up a plan of her own but if her plans fail she may loose everything including Phil, and that was the very thing she was afraid off.

I just got my billionaire husband to sign our divorce papers. He thinks it’s another business document.
Our marriage was a business transaction. I was his secretary by day, his invisible wife by night. He got a CEO title and a rebellion against his mother; I got the money to save mine.
The only rule? Don’t fall in love.
I broke it. He didn’t.
So I’m cashing out. Thirty days from now, I’m gone.
But now he’s noticing me. Touching me. Claiming me. The same man who flaunts his mistresses is suddenly burning down a nightclub because another man insulted me.
He says he’ll never let me go. But he has no idea I’m already halfway out the door.
How far will a billionaire go to keep a wife he never wanted until she tried to leave?

Olivia had lived in pain for most of her life. Because of her unusually large body, people spat at her wherever she went, tripped her in front of hallway lockers, humiliated her openly.
The only light in her life was the man she had secretly loved.
He was the golden boy of campus, never short of girls to dance with. They had a one-night stand—but later, at a fraternity gathering, he mocked her, laughing about how she smelled disgusting.
The past has a way of resurfacing when you least expect it.
Olivia Evans thought she had left her painful past behind. Once known as Emma Cooper, the fat girl constantly humiliated by her classmates, she buried those memories along with her old identity. Changing her name and transforming her life, Olivia became someone far from the girl who once carried qthe weight of ridicule. But when she walks into a clinic with her daughter and comes face-to-face with Noah Ezekiel Morgan, the man who once shattered her heart, everything she tried to forget comes rushing back.
Now, with her daughter’s life hanging in the balance and a high school reunion she never planned to attend, Olivia is forced to confront the man who hurt her deeply. Will she keep her true identity a secret, or will the emotions she’s kept buried for so long rise to the surface?
The weight of the past may be harder to carry than she ever imagined.

I’m Emily, a criminal investigator in Emerald City. After a vice crackdown, I refused a transfer—only to realize someone was tailing me on my way home at night…

A young couple recently moved in right across the hall from us.
The husband, Richard, works as an auditor at City Hall. His wife, Chloe, is the morning show host for a local TV network.
Chloe is about five-foot-three, with curves in all the right places. Her entire being radiates an unignorable, mature housewife charm—she is absolutely gorgeous.
Richard is a serious whiskey enthusiast and often invites me over to the patio for a couple of drinks, so our families quickly grew close. My wife, Sarah, and Chloe, in particular, became like sisters the moment they started talking about Sephora's new releases and luxury bags. They could easily gossip for an entire weekend.
And that... gave me an opportunity.

My grandfather was a thief.

He did not steal money.

He stole my grandmother's name, her return papers, and the life that should have carried her out of the mountains.

Fifty years later, his granddaughter sat across from me in a law firm interview and smiled like the world already belonged to her.

I opened her file, saw the family name, and closed the folder.

"You didn't pass."

Clara Whitman-Harlan had been called graceful because no one had ever seen what it cost her to stay quiet. For ten years, she made Grant Harlan look like a man who had built an empire by discipline and vision. She hosted the dinners, calmed the vendors, moved money before payroll became a headline, and remembered which investor had a daughter with asthma and which supplier hated lilies. She kept every thank-you note, every invoice, and every awkward receipt that proved the Harlan fortune had not grown from Grant's charm alone.

Then a pregnant employee appeared in his calendar. Grant denied the affair. His mother blamed Clara for the child she had never had. The other woman smiled like innocence in a white dress. At a charity gala packed with donors, suppliers, family friends, and investors, they prepared a family trust for Clara to sign, supposedly for an unborn baby, quietly designed to transfer Clara's homes, dividends, and company rights into another woman's hands. They thought Clara would protect their name one last time. They forgot she had spent a decade protecting herself.

t the most expensive medical charity gala in Manhattan, Avery Hale came in through the service corridor because she hated cameras. She wore a black dress without a label, carried her own coat, and kept her name off every donor wall.

That was the point. For seven years, Avery had hidden the money she made from film scores and documentary royalties inside an anonymous foundation that paid for surgeries, trials, and second chances for children whose families had run out of all three. She had built Second Dawn quietly because quiet was the one thing her old family had never been able to take from her.

Then the Mercers saw her.

The parents who had adopted her and discarded her. The golden son they had asked her to fund, praise, and disappear for. The family that once called her selfish for wanting college now called her a fraud for standing in a room she had paid to build.

They thought Avery had slipped into the gala to beg. They thought the powerful man watching from the edge of the ballroom was only another rich stranger. They thought public shame would make her small again.

They were wrong about every part of her.

Married for seven years, I lived my life like an absolute joke.
For the sake of my brother, my wife personally uprooted the roses I had so painstakingly cultivated. To please her uncle, my daughter pointed at my nose and called me a "bad daddy."
The entire family even held a vote to force me to donate my bone marrow. My wife, Elena, raised her hand without a second thought: "You'll just lose a little bone marrow. Liam will die without you."
In that moment, my heart died.
The surgery was a success.
As the anesthesia wore off, Elena was holding my hand tightly. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her voice trembled with remorse: "Aaron, I was a jerk before. As long as you were willing to save Liam, I will love only you for the rest of my life."
She thought I would be as pathetically grateful as a dog, begging for her affection and humbly forgiving her.
But I merely frowned in disgust and pulled my hand back as if shaking off garbage.
In the dead silence, I looked at this tearful woman before me and asked, politely yet confused:
"Excuse me, ma'am... who are you?"

"What the hell, it even has haptic vibration feedback? Are they seriously making these things this realistic now?"

Taking advantage of my roommate being out on a sales call, I tossed this ridiculously expensive "high-end realistic doll" onto my bed.

Watching her body tremble slightly, almost uncontrollably, the twisted fire in my gut burned even hotter.

"Baby, here I come!"

At the company's annual client appreciation dinner, I was the one in charge of booking the venue.
To save the company money, I picked my aunt's upscale restaurant with a skyline view. Since we were family, she only charged us at cost. When I posted the details in our Slack channel to confirm with the team, no one had any objections—except for the intern, who slowly tagged me in the chat:
[Arthur, I don't mean anything by it.]
[I just want to ask—how big a kickback did you get for booking your family's restaurant?]
[After all, the money for this dinner is coming out of our bonus pool.]
[So you should return that money to the rest of us, right?]
The other coworkers started liking the message and chiming in to support him.
So I dropped the whole thing on the spot and handed the task over to that intern, who loved talking about "fixing workplace injustice."
Then the night of the dinner came.
From the CEO all the way down to the investors, everyone was pinned on the deck and searched by armed Coast Guard officers.
The most important client contact collapsed from a heart attack on the spot and was airlifted by helicopter straight to the ICU, costing the company a multimillion-dollar enterprise cybersecurity contract.

I am the nameless corpse dumped in an alley, left without a head or limbs.
My mother is the lead detective on the case.
She stood outside the crime scene tape, pinching her nose in disgust. "Another street rat who got what she deserved. Just like my own useless daughter—always out running wild."
I hovered above, watching her step over my mutilated body, cooing gently into the phone with my stepsister—while the last call I made to her for help, the night I died, went unanswered.
Not until the medical examiner pried the bloodstained birthday necklace from my stiff fingers.
Not until forensics restored the audio file on my phone, and my final desperate plea echoed out: "Mom, help me..."
Only then did Detective Sarah—Chicago's coldest cop—collapse in front of that pile of "trash," her wail of grief tearing through the night.

For seven years of marriage, I've been silent in front of my wife.
It's not that I don't have anything to say; it's just that she can hear everyone's voice—except mine, which seems to trigger her sensitivity.
I've tried everything to change my voice, even going under the knife to fix my vocal cords.
But no matter how hard I try, she just ends up in pain, covering her ears.
I've broken down countless times, feeling like I've let her down.
Until the day of our daughter's birthday.
My daughter stood at the front door, grinning, and said, "Mom, can I pretend to be voice-sensitive like you?"

The year I loved Edward the most, I was envied by everyone in Copper Valley.
They called me the priceless treasure in the palms of my father and my husband.
I was the most precious pregnant woman in the whole Copper Valley.
But before Christmas, when I went to give my husband a surprise, I saw him kissing the cheek of Angela, the daughter of my father's lover.
His friends praised his high-handed means, athat he could actually persuade me to have a fake marriage with him.
"Fake marriage?" I frowned.
Edward told them, "Lucy has everything. Angela has been a bastard for more than twenty years. I should compensate."
I left the club in despair and then replied to the mysterious text message on my phone.
[I can accept you as the nominal father of my child.]

Reunited, I became the “perfect wife” Julian had always dreamed of.
I didn’t ask where he was when he didn’t come home.
When his “one that got away” came to our door to provoke me, I greeted her with a polite smile.
I even caught them in the act, and instead of screaming, I thoughtfully closed the door for them.
The Elara who used to break down in hysterics over his infidelity was dead.

The woman standing here now was nothing more than a shell, existing solely for her daughter.
Finally, Julian began to panic. He knelt in the pouring rain, begging me to curse him, begging me to still love him—or even hate him.
But as I looked down at him, I didn’t just feel nothing. I felt sick.
"Julian, I don't hate you."
I just find every second spent with you utterly disgusting.

My first love was adopted by our family, and he promised he would always be there for me.
But after my dad passed away in a car accident, I found him with another woman in our bedroom.
He told everyone Caroline was his true love—that he only saw me as a sister—and claimed I was the one who was pestering him.
I was shamed by everyone. The stress gave my mother a stroke, and Caroline even had someone run me over, costing me an eye.
Seven years later, holding flowers, I ran into them outside a convenience store.
Arthur's son looked at me pityingly. "Dad, this lady lost an eye… Is she selling flowers? Should we buy some?"

I am the youngest Don of the Obsidian Family.
After an unexpected rest, my opponent sent me a street racing invitation.
I went to my brother's company to retrieve my car, but was drugged with ether by my brother's secretary.
She told me that no one could seduce her man.
She kicked my stomach, threatened me with a paper cutter to make a vow, and said her future sister-in-law is the youngest Don of the Obsidian Family—if I dared to retaliate against her, I would die miserably.
I looked at her coldly.
Really?
But I haven't agreed to be your sister-in-law yet!

"Mmm... Tyler... I can't take it anymore..."

My wife's sexy best friend panted heavily in my private training room, her previous tough talk completely gone.

"Giving up already? We haven't even started." I grabbed her tiny waist, flipped her over, and pushed her back into the set. "Again. We're nowhere near done."

Seven years ago, Mara Vale signed a confession for the man she loved.

Grant Mercer promised it was the only way to save their future. He said the hit-and-run was an accident, that his family would hire the best lawyer, that she would be home before their baby learned to walk. Instead, Mara gave birth in prison, lost her son to Grant's polished lies, and watched him build a new life on the story of being ruined by a criminal ex-fiancee.

Now Mara is free, broke, and trained in the one craft no one in Grant's glittering world respects until they need it: the restoration of damaged photographs, burned paper, and things people thought were too ruined to speak.

When Grant's wealthy new wife hires Mara to save the Hart family archives, Mara steps into a house built on reputation, money, and locked boxes. Inside those boxes are old newspapers, altered confessions, receipts, signatures, and ashes that remember the truth better than any person dared to.

Grant stole Mara's name, her son, and seven years of her life. He is about to learn that some things cannot return to what they were, but they can still be restored.

Seven years of marriage, and I was nothing but a joke.
My husband destroyed the roses I'd spent years nurturing—just to please my sister. My son, desperate for his aunt's approval, pointed at me and called me a "bad mom."
One day, the whole family took a vote to force me into donating bone marrow. Ethan, my husband, didn't hesitate. He raised his hand and said, "Erin, it's just a little bone marrow. Leah will die without you."
That was the moment my heart broke.
The surgery was a success.
When the anesthesia wore off, Ethan was gripping my hand tightly, eyes bloodshot, voice trembling with remorse. "Erin, I was a fool before. If you save Leah, I swear I'll spend the rest of my life loving only you."
He thought I'd grovel, grateful like a dog, desperate for his forgiveness.
But I just frowned in disgust and pulled my hand away as if shaking off trash.
In the dead silence, I looked at the tear-streaked man before me and asked, polite and confused:
"Sir... who are you?"

At the school's field day, my six-year-old son pointed straight at me and shouted for everyone to hear, "I'd rather be alone than with her! She's the worst mom in the world!"
He hated that I couldn't afford expensive toys, hated that we lived in a tiny apartment, hated that I was just a useless woman.
Then he turned and ran straight into the arms of the woman who destroyed my family, calling her name in the sweetest voice, just because she handed him an ice cream.
My ex-husband leaned against his luxury car, sneering, "Nora, if you admit you were wrong, I'll let you come back. We can get married again."
Looking at their smug faces, I finally let go of the hands I'd been gripping tightly for four years.
"All right," I said, smiling as I signed away custody, "Since you two love each other so much, I hope you and your perfect little family enjoy every minute together."
They thought I was playing hard to get, but they had no idea—this time, I really meant it.

"Hey, easy on the thrusts, I can barely stand."

Inside a top-tier nightclub in Los Angeles, the heavy bass was making the floorboards vibrate. I took advantage of the crowd and pressed tightly against the girl in front of me.

She was wearing a strapless, tight little black dress, her hands waving in the air, her perfectly shaped ass shaking wildly to the beat.

God help me, she was completely commando under that dress!

What excited me even more was that she didn't reject my advances at all; instead, she started actively accommodating them.

My buddy Ron had been a miserable wreck for days, whining about how some young girl had scammed him out of his cash.
After pressing him for details, I found out the girl worked at a massage therapy parlor.
Fired up with the idea of getting some payback for my brother, I headed over to this "blind massage" joint...
Only to find myself tumbling headfirst into the very same honey trap.

After I took in my first love, she promised she'd always be good to me.
But after my mother died in a car accident, I found her in our home—with another man.
She told everyone Colin was her true love, that I was just a little brother she never wanted, and that I was the one who couldn't let go.
Everyone turned against me. My father had a stroke from the rage. Colin even had someone run me over—cost me an eye.
Seven years later.
I stood outside a convenience store holding flowers when I saw them.
Audrey's daughter looked at me with pity. "Mom, that man only has one eye... Is he selling flowers? Should we buy some?"

Nora Vale inherits three million dollars and a ruined seaside motel from an aunt her family called impossible.

She tells no one. Not even Rowan, her exhausted mechanic husband, who has spent years letting his family drain him dry.

Instead, Nora tells one dangerous lie: her design studio has collapsed, and she has lost everything.

Rowan does not blame her. He does not leave. He takes her hand and says, "Then we rebuild. You and me."

But the inheritance is not just money. Harbor Mile Motel hides records of a predatory company buying coastal properties through debt, fear, and family pressure. Rowan's brother is involved. Nora's aunt may not have died as quietly as everyone believed.

Now Nora must learn that money can buy time, repairs, and lawyers, but it cannot buy trust. And Rowan must decide whether the woman who lied to test his love is still the woman he wants to build a future with.

Clara Vale lost her award, her career, and her dignity on the same red carpet.

The world thought she ran to hide.

They were wrong.

She ran to the only place that had ever made her feel clean: a mountain town above the snowline, where a quiet rescue captain named Elias Roan had lived in her secret account, her unfinished letters, and her heart for three years.

But shame follows fast. So does the man who ruined her.

And when Clara's past climbs the mountain to destroy her one last time, Elias may be the only person willing to stand between her and the crowd.

For three years, Mara Ellis raised twins for a dead man.

Then the comments appeared in the air.

They said Caleb Ward was alive.

They said he was about to marry another woman.

They said Mara was only the abandoned side character who would show up too late.

Mara folded one more tiny shirt, looked at her sleeping children, and decided the story had never met a mother with overdue bills.

I was always the extra daughter in the Cross family.
To my parents, I was nothing more than a walking blood bank for Clara. To my husband Adrian, I was a sinner who needed to atone for her crimes.
When Adrian forced me to donate a kidney to my sister, I agreed.
Not only did I agree, I liquidated every asset I owned and transferred it all to my research lab.
They thought I was stupid, thought I was still desperate for their love.
But all I was doing was putting my affairs in order.
The night before the surgery, I coughed up blood all over the table.
Adrian sneered over the phone. "Cut the act, Evelyn. You'll do anything to dodge responsibility. You just want attention—how pathetic."
The surgery was a "success."
My sister got the kidney she'd always wanted.
And I died in the recovery room.
My soul floated above my body as I watched Adrian walk into the hospital room, that patronizing smile on his face, ready to put on his "repentant husband" act.
"Eve, I know you've been hurt. Let's start over..."
The only answer he got was a white sheet pulled over my face.

The multi-million-dollar deal I worked my ass off to win back was handed over by my boss to a clueless new hire who could barely even read the material codes. And that same rookie had the nerve to mock me in public, saying I was nothing but his errand girl.
My boss went even further, tore up every rule in the book, and shoved a termination agreement right at me.
I didn't argue. I didn't make a scene. I took the severance and walked away.
Because I knew one thing better than anyone: without me, they wouldn't even make it through the manufacturers' front doors.
Sure enough, just days after I left, the entire supply chain fell apart, and the company's cash flow completely collapsed.
And when they started scrambling in desperation, running all over New York begging investment executives to save them, they walked straight onto my mother's turf.

I'm the forgotten eldest son of the Cross family.
My parents see me as a walking blood bag for my brother Colin, while my wife views me as a sinner destined to spend my life atoning for my mistakes.
When Audrey pressured me to donate a kidney, I agreed.
Not only did I agree, but I also liquidated all my assets and transferred them to my lab.
They thought I was foolish, that I was still begging for their love.
In reality, I was just tying up loose ends.
The night before the surgery, I coughed up a pool of blood.
Audrey laughed coldly over the phone: "Stop the act, Evan. You just want to dodge responsibility. You'll go to any lengths for attention."
The surgery was a "success."
Colin got the kidney he'd always dreamed of.
And I died in the recovery room.
My soul floated in the air as I watched Audrey push open the hospital door, wearing a smile that dripped with pity, ready to put on a show of "redemption."
"Evan, I know you've been wronged. Let's start over..."
The only response to her was the white sheet covering my lifeless body.

After being brought home by my biological parents, I thought I'd finally get the love I'd been missing.

But no matter what I did, they only blamed me for bullying my adopted sister. My husband would just look at me with disgust.

They thought I was cruel and evil. When my adopted sister was diagnosed with leukemia, they forced me to donate bone marrow to her.

I was forced to eat and exercise, gaining twenty pounds in half a month.

My adopted sister suddenly looked at me and said, "Sis, to tell you the truth, I don't have leukemia at all. I'm just playing with you. When you die on the operating table, I'll be with your husband."

I felt so sick I wanted to die.

But I couldn't die.

I had to survive.

I had to crawl out of this hell alive!

My mother stared at my body, fused to the sofa, and waited forty minutes before calling 911.
She cheerfully told my father the news, deciding they should celebrate with a nice dinner.
Of course.
After all, they could finally be rid of the burden I’d become—no more tormenting me, no more keeping me locked away.
They could go back to being the respectable parents everyone thought they were.
But—
Someone was bound to see the truth.

After months of being bullied at school, things got even worse—the bullies said they wanted to come to my house.
Wanted to see what kind of family a "dog" like me came from.
I begged them, sobbing, not to do it.
Because my dad is a serial killer. My mom is a twisted murderer. And my brother is a full-blown psychopath.
If they come to my house, they will die.

On the day the apocalyptic flood swallowed the city, I died on a fractured overpass.

The man who crushed my fingers under his boot was my brother-in-law, the very man I had sacrificed everything to support. And standing safely out of reach, watching coldly as the muddy torrent swallowed me whole, was my supposedly sweet and devoted fiancée. In her arms, she fiercely clutched her "son"—who was hoarding the last of my survival rations.

In the very last second of my life, she nestled into the arms of her ex-boyfriend and left me with a single, contemptuous sneer: "Let's go. Forget about this useless trash."

It turned out that working my fingers to the bone and emptying my life savings had all been a pathetic joke—a long con orchestrated by a pack of bloodsucking parasites.

But when I opened my eyes again, I had returned to exactly one year before the apocalypse began.

My fiancée was standing there, holding a cup of hot coffee and sweetly begging me to invest another million into her brother's business.

I just smiled, gently pushed her hand away, and turned around to liquidate every single asset to my name. With that money, I secretly constructed a state-of-the-art, deep-sea underground fortress.

Later, when the monstrous floodwaters inevitably tore the city apart, they stood on the balcony of their doomed mansion, desperately falling to their knees and begging my icebreaker for salvation.

Sitting inside my perfectly secure command cabin, I took a leisurely sip of hot coffee and softly gave the order:

"Open fire. Don't let this trash dirty my deck."

On the eve of the apocalypse, magical beasts appeared in our world.
They possessed extraordinary abilities, and humans could master these powers by forming a contract with them.
In my previous life, my adopted brother chose a top-tier Wolf King pup.
But shortly after, the extreme heat apocalypse descended. The low-tier water snake I had contracted possessed the ability to conjure water and lower temperatures, inadvertently making me the envy of everyone.
Meanwhile, my brother’s Wolf King was universally despised for its excruciatingly slow growth and lack of immediate combat power.

Now, I have been reborn to the very day we chose our contracted beasts.
This time, my brother rushed ahead and snatched the water snake.
I know why.
He has been reborn, too.
But this apocalypse is not nearly as simple as he thinks!

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

For seven years of marriage, I don't dare make a sound around my husband.
All because he can hear everyone's voices—everyone's except mine. He says he's allergic to mine.
I've tried everything to change my voice—even had vocal cord surgery.
But no matter how hard I tried—every time he'd just cover his ears like I was hurting him.
I've cried myself to sleep so many times, feeling guilty.
Until our son's birthday.
Standing by our front door, our little boy grinned up at his dad and asked, "Dad, can I pretend to be allergic to mom's voice too? Just like you?"

After eight years together, my fiancé gave all his affection to the innocent-acting sneaky babysitter at home. Even when I was on the brink of losing my baby, he was busy helping her fulfill her wish to watch shooting stars.
I didn't cry or make a scene; I calmly finished the property notarization, sold my expensive engagement ring, and switched jobs to a top investment bank.
By the time he was frantically searching for me everywhere, I was safely in the arms of a business mogul who had secretly loved me for twenty years. "Late love is cheaper than dirt; your karma is just beginning."

Our female coach was a gorgeous, curvy young married woman.

Fair-skinned and stunning, with a figure that turned heads.

When she ran, her proud fullness bounced with every step.

We could hardly keep our eyes off her.

But one day, her beauty became a weapon that could kill…

Marilyn is a self made boss and a Baddie. She does not soften for anyone but she made an exception for her fiancé.
Until she found out her fiancé Tom was cheating on her. To make matter worse, he didn't feel remorse. He broke off the engagement and left her standing there like a fool.
She ends up at a hotel bar, where an arrogant stranger approaches her. He’s persistent, irritatingly sure of himself, and exactly the kind of man she doesn’t deal with. She dismisses him and leaves, refusing to give any man her time anymore.
The next day, she goes to her ex’s office with the intention of ruining his peace. Instead, she finds the man from the bar. His name is Dante. He is her ex’s boss.
Dante proposes an offer and she accepts when she realizes it would get her the revenge she wants on her ex and even more.
The arrangement is clear: No feelings attached.
But the longer they play the part, the more the line blur.

This is a story about control, ego, attraction, and what happens when two people who don’t surrender to anyone start wanting each other anyway.

One moment I was human, sixteen years old and in love, believing my life would follow a simple, ordinary path. The next, I was taken from everything I knew and thrown into Silverwood Academy, a hidden world where wolf shifters rule, magic breathes, and survival is never guaranteed.
They see me as an anomaly. A girl who should not exist.
My mark is rare, dangerous, and tied to an ancient bloodline that was meant to stay buried. It binds me to a goddess who gives power without mercy and a destiny no one walks away from unchanged.
At Silverwood, strength decides your worth. Alphas test me. Rivals hunt me. Teachers watch, waiting for me to fail. Every full moon pushes me closer to a power I do not fully understand and a future I never asked for.
And then there is love, complicated and cruel in the way only fate can be.
I am torn between the boy I loved as a human, a bond so strong it refuses to break even after death, and a dangerous pull toward a wolf who challenges me, pushes me, and makes me question who I am becoming.
Each choice costs something. Every secret carries blood. The more power I gain, the more I risk losing myself.
They want me to be a weapon. A leader. A legend written in moonlight and war.
But I do not want a throne or a prophecy.
I just want to survive the fate that marked my soul.
Because in this world, destiny is not a gift. It is a debt, and it always demands payment

Ice Princess × Hockey Captain


I was supposed to be the next Olympic figure skating champion.

Until one fall destroyed everything.

My career.
My knee.
My future.

So I disappeared.

At Yale, I’m just another freshman trying to stay invisible.

No skating.
No spotlight.
No past.

It almost works.

Until Eli Hayes.

Yale hockey captain.
Campus golden boy.
The one person who keeps looking at me like he already knows who I am.

The more I try to push him away, the closer he gets.

And the closer we get…

the more dangerous my secret becomes.

Because if anyone finds out the truth—

that the girl hiding at Yale is the same Silver Preston whose Olympic dreams shattered on national television—

everything I rebuilt will fall apart again.

Including the one person I never meant to fall for.

In a werewolf pack that despised weakness, Aphrodite learned to survive by staying quiet, keeping her head down, and enduring cruelty in silence. The Alpha heirs hated her. The future Beta and Gamma made her life unbearable. When she finally breaks and seeks freedom at the Moon Goddess temple, she does not find release.

She finds truth.

Aphrodite is not human at all. She is a rare white wolf, descended from an ancient Direwolf bloodline long believed extinct. The ritual meant to sever her ties awakens her wolf instead and with it comes the scent of five mates bound to her by fate.

The Alpha twins who once scorned her now cannot stay away. A human hunter walks beside her and proves that strength is not born of fangs or dominance. A cursed Wolf King holds the key to her past and her father’s imprisonment. And watching from the shadows is one who was never meant to interfere at all.

As gods fall, packs fracture, and war reshapes the world, Aphrodite must decide what destiny truly means. Is it submission to fate or the courage to choose her own path.

Love does not come in one form. Neither does power.

In a world ruled by gods and wolves, Aphrodite will become something neither ever expected.

Not a queen.

But the axis upon which the world turns.

I only came to the Academy to survive. Love was never part of the plan.

But the moment my eyes met his-Darius Fenrir, heir to the most powerful Alpha line-my wolf whispered one word that shattered everything.

Mate.

He should have been my destiny. Instead, he rejected me in front of everyone.

Weak. Unworthy. Unwanted.

Now I walk the halls branded by his pride, whispers snapping at my heels, every look reminding me that I'll never be enough for an Alpha.

But I refuse to bow.

Because while Darius watches me with storm-dark eyes full of regret, another wolf circles closer-Gideon Wicke, his rival, his enemy... and the one who offers me the power to strike back.

Two Alphas. One bond.

And me, caught between pride, love, and a war that could tear the Academy apart.

He rejected me once. This time, I'll decide who burns.

I thought marrying the Alpha would finally give me a place in the pack.
I was wrong.
On the night we were bound, he rejected me. Not in private. Not with mercy. He tore the mate bond apart before the entire pack and accused me of carrying another man’s child. I was stripped of my title, cast out, and left to survive alone while pregnant with the very heir he denied.
I should have died in those woods.
Instead, I was found by something far more dangerous than an Alpha.
The Direwolf Alpha is feared by every pack. Exiled. Scarred. Ruthless. He does not follow pack law or bow to fate. When he looks at me, he does not see a weak, wolf-less woman or a burdened womb.
He sees something worth claiming.
As my body changes, so does everything I believed about myself. The wolf I was told I did not have begins to stir, and the child I carry draws whispers of prophecy and power. The pack that rejected me wants me back. The mate who humiliated me suddenly remembers my name.
But the Direwolf who claimed me has no intention of giving me up.
I was rejected while pregnant.
Now I must decide who I will become and which bond I will choose.

Five wolves. Five forbidden bloodlines that were never meant to exist. For forty years, a secret organization known as the Hollow Court has hunted them, determined to erase them before they can rise.

Mona learned how to disappear to survive. Neve has been controlled by a stepmother who fears her power. Rune has never been allowed beyond her own front door. Briar cannot touch anyone without calculating the danger. Mira understands the world better than most, yet has never truly lived in it.

They are strangers, scattered and hidden. For now.

The Hollow Court knows exactly who they are. It has been watching, waiting for the moment each of them awakens. Because these women are not just wolves. They are rare bloodlines with the power to change everything.

As their paths collide, secrets unravel and a new kind of pack is formed. Not one built on fear, but on choice, loyalty, and bonds that do not demand sacrifice of self. Together, they begin to uncover the truth about what they are and why they were hunted long before they were born.

This is a binge-worthy wolf shifter epic filled with powerful female leads, slow-burn connections, found family, and a rising rebellion that will reshape their world.

They were raised to believe they were dangerous.
Now they are done holding back.

Eli Michealson owns Las Vegas. The casinos, the power, the fear that follows his name everywhere he goes. Known as the Ghost, he is ruthless, untouchable, and completely uninterested in anything that does not bend to his will.

Brigail Havens is just trying to survive. A broke Southern girl with a sharp tongue, a painful past, and debts that refuse to stay buried. She did not come to Vegas to gamble with her life. She came to work, to pay what her family owes, and to keep her head down.

Their worlds collide over a poker table where nothing is as simple as it seems. Eli is convinced Brigail is hiding something, tied to a man who once tried to destroy him. Brigail wants nothing to do with a powerful billionaire who thinks he can intimidate his way into the truth.

But defiance sparks obsession, and curiosity turns dangerous when Eli decides the only way to control the game is to own every piece of it, including her job, her freedom, and maybe her heart.

She does not trust him. He does not know how to let her go.

In a city built on lies, money, and temptation, one wrong move could cost everything. And falling for the one person you should never want might be the most dangerous bet of all.

At Whitmore Academy for the Supernaturally Gifted, power is everything and perfection is expected.

Carly McPherson has spent years building her reputation as the strongest witch in school, the leader of her coven, and the girl who never fails. As a Blackriver cheerleader with a legacy to uphold, she is used to being in control. But senior year is unraveling faster than she can hold it together. Between planning the most important Homecoming in school history, surviving brutal magical expectations, and keeping her image flawless, the pressure is cracking through.

Then there are the boys.

One is darkness wrapped in a letterman jacket, with amber eyes that see too much and secrets that refuse to stay buried. The other is fire and chaos, all sharp smiles and leather, pulling Carly toward something reckless and dangerous. Both threaten the careful balance she has built, and neither is willing to let her walk away untouched.

As rival factions stir, hidden magic surfaces, and loyalties begin to fracture, Carly finds herself caught in something far bigger than school drama. Power comes with a cost, and the deeper she falls into secrets, desire, and betrayal, the harder it becomes to tell who she can trust.

In a world where witches, wolves, and vampires collide, one wrong move could destroy everything.

And Carly is running out of time to keep it all from burning.

At Thornfield Academy, power wears a perfect smile.
Old money. Legacy names. Students raised to rule the world before they even graduate. They call themselves untouchable. They call themselves saints.

They’re lying.

Jordan is not supposed to exist here. Not under this name. Not in this body. Disguised as James Blake, she’s hiding in plain sight, buried inside a school built on secrets, privilege, and rot. One wrong move and everything unravels. Her past. Her identity. The truth about the blood she left behind.

But Thornfield is not just another elite academy.

The students are watching. Testing. Hunting for weakness.

The pretty sinners who break people for fun.
The dirty saints who pretend they’re innocent.

And then there’s Teddy Phillips. Too kind for a place like this. Too close for comfort.

Then there's the captain of the Soccer team. The only one who might see through her before she’s ready.

Because Jordan did not come here just to survive.

She came here because Thornfield is hiding something.

And if she is right, the lies buried in these halls are worth killing for.

In a school where legacy is everything, the truth is the most dangerous thing of all.