101 Book(s) Related to rwby fanus

{Sequel to Smoke & Mirrors}

It has been 10 months since Sapphire lost her family, 8 months since she escaped the clutches of a monster.

She might have escaped, but she is still a prisoner. She still has a part to play in an ancient story of love, war and betrayal. Her bonds to Damien might have been severed, but there are stronger ties that lay below the surface, ones that she may never be able to break.

Her soul still yearns for revenge, but she now has a new family to protect. Will she fail them for her selfish desire to charge into the storm?

But, all fairy tales have their own twist...what she does not know is that the storm is already raging towards her, with new enemies she never thought she would face.

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Lovely cover by @-wanderes

Maris Caine is a counselor who has the ability to enchant anyone with her voice but what happens when she disrupts a ritual and runs away with the entity needed for it to be completed, leading to Azazel birthing a new demon that he sends after her–Vampire.

Logan Wolfe is the Alpha of the Oberon kingdom who happens to save his mate from Azazel and swears to protect her but how is that possible when she is stubborn and blames it all on Logan?

She finds out a secret about herself and wages war amongst five kingdoms.

I just bought my daughter a ruby choker. But the moment I fastened it around her neck, my world came crashing down.
The shopkeeper called me a sick freak. My loving husband demanded an instant divorce. My best friend called me a monster.
Why? It’s just a piece of jewelry... right?

His fingers crawled down from my shoulders to my waist like he was going through an art piece, but was breathing heavily at the same time.

“Thalia…” his breath touched my left ear. “Our bond isn't just about instinct…”

I pulled him off me, stepping back into the room. “Jaden, I'm human, and you're a werewolf. A bind cannot exist between us.”

“And does that matter?”

“It… it should.”

He pulled me back into his arms, and our lips engaged in a kiss, his scent of fresh grass waffling through my nostrils.

“You know what?” His hands touched my boobs. “It's no longer about you breaking this curse on me.”


It had never been the same since the cruel incident of my parents’ death, and the scene still imprinted in my mind like a layer of skin.

My mind had always been about them, always dreaming of them.

I met Kael, and just when I thought I'd found some sort of peace, he betrayed me by selling me off to Alpha Jaden.

Weren't all these enough to break me?

Jaden claimed I was his mate despite my not being a werewolf. I tried to refuse, but my whole body could only confirm I was his.

Then what next?

Just when I was going to accept the crazy bond between us, I started to find evidence that he was my parents’ killer.

How was I supposed to cope with all these as a human living among werewolves?

Seventeen-year-old Zoe Vance has exactly three things: a secondhand leather jacket, a mouth that moves faster than her brain, and a dead mother whose name keeps opening doors it shouldn't.
When Zoe is dragged out of her Velthorn City group home and handed a scholarship to Ravenpeak Academy — the most exclusive school in the state, and secretly, the most dangerous — she knows something is wrong. Scholarship kids don't go to Ravenpeak. Humans don't go to Ravenpeak.
And yet here she is.
She doesn't know she's walking into the middle of a war.
Five packs. One crumbling treaty. And four Alpha heirs who each have their own reason to want her close — or want her gone. There's Callum Dray, the cold-blooded heir of the most powerful pack in the city, who looks at her like she's a problem he hasn't solved yet. Soren Vael, the disgraced second son who fights like he has nothing to lose. Idris Farouk, Ravenpeak's most decorated student and the most dangerous liar in any room. And Rafferty Cole, the one everyone calls a ghost — the dropout heir who shouldn't even be on campus, and who finds her on her very first night in a way that changes everything.
Zoe has no wolf. No pack. No power.
That's what she tells herself.
But something in her blood responds to the academy's moon chamber in a way that shouldn't be possible. Something old. Something the packs have been hunting for two generations.
And someone at Ravenpeak already knows what she is.
They're just waiting for the right moment to use her.
Born Without Fangs is a fast-paced, emotionally brutal reverse harem romance with a heroine who refuses to be a pawn — even when the board is stacked against her.

In a world where vampires rule and humans are nothing but prey, Cassian Vale is sent into the lion’s den—disguised, desperate, and determined to find his missing brother. But when the most powerful vampire alive claims him as a mate, Cassian's mission takes a deadly turn.
Betrayal cuts deep. Love cuts deeper. In a game where everyone wants his blood, Cassian must decide: Will he burn the world to survive—or let himself fall, fangs and all?

Dante is a man of power, wealth, and secrets darker than the night. A ruthless vampire billionaire with a past drenched in blood, he rules his empire with an iron grip—untouchable, unstoppable… until her.
Ava never expected her life to change with a single job interview. Walking into Blackthorne Enterprises, she thought she was applying to be an assistant, not signing herself away to a man who devours control like oxygen.

Dante is cold, calculated, and dangerously seductive. His touch is forbidden, his world deadly. Yet when he looks at her, there’s something lurking beneath his perfect control—hunger. Need. Possession.
She should run. But the moment he claims her, she knows escape is impossible.
Now, she’s trapped in a world of wealth and obsession, temptation and sin. A world where pleasure and pain blend seamlessly, and love comes with a deadly price.

Because Dante is no ordinary man. He’s a monster in a tailored suit.
And Ava? She’s the one thing he can never let go.
But when desire turns into something deeper, something primal, one question remains—will she survive his darkness, or will she drown in it? (R18+)

Some bad decisions come back to bite you. Literally.

After finding out her boyfriend cheated, the last thing she expected was to stumble across a wounded man in an alley. And definitely not one with fangs. But thanks to a mix of cocktails, shame, and her questionable life choices, she takes him home. Turns out, he’s not just any vampire—he’s a king. And according to him, she’s his fated mate.

Now, she’s stuck with an overprotective, brooding bloodsucker who keeps rescuing her, a growing list of enemies who want her dead, and an undeniable attraction that’s making it very hard to remember why falling for a vampire is a terrible idea.

Because if she’s not careful, she won’t just lose her heart—she’ll lose her humanity.

His hand tightens around my wrists above my head. “This pretty dripping pussy of yours. The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen is fucking begging me. But maybe you’re soaked and needy because of his fangs.” He slaps my pussy. Hard.

I cry. “Ahhhh! No!” I let out a whimper, then a moan.

Earlier, of fucking course yes, but now, it’s just for him. But if I come to think about Griffin’s fangs—

Aemon opens my pussy lips with his long fingers at an obscene angle. I curl my toes. Oh, Goddess, oh Goddess!

I’m so wet! “Griffin—I mean—Your brother means nothing to me.” I whimper.

But as soon as I say his brother’s name I know it is the wrong thing to say.

🥀 🥀 🥀

To vampires, blood is everything.

When it stops flowing, so do you.

Blake is human. Offered like cattle by the very pack that raised her.

But the moment her blood touches Griffin’s tongue, the Vampire Leader knows—she is his fated mate.

There is only one problem: his brother wants her too. And he’s not willing to let go.

"Come on, what are you waiting for? Do it." He let go, his sapphire eyes still fixed on me as he pulled his cock out, "and you'd better do it soon, I still have too many things to do."
I still didn't want to believe it, I wanted it all to be a stupid joke! A light punishment that wouldn't go any further...
He came towards me and left me against the wall of the carriage, the dim light coming in making those blue eyes sharper, his dick coming closer to my face.
It wouldn't fit, it was too thick.
I didn't even know how it got inside me, imagine in my mouth?
I'd suffocate.
I was going to die!


The final tranquility of humanity crumbles when a ship, crewed by bloodthirsty beasts, docks on the island. The once peaceful and paradisiacal place transforms into a true inferno. To prevent the people from being enslaved, Lianna, the eldest daughter of the village leader is offered as a tribute to the enemies. Vowing to her tribe and herself that she would kill the cursed man who invaded and seized her home. As she gets closer to the man, she discovers what appears to be an ordinary human. However, little does she know that the man transforms into a gigantic beast under the moonlight…

Maevyrn (Maeve) Grew up in the human world. Beaten daily by her mother. A stranger who claims to be her father swoops in and brings her to moonlight academy where all things that go bump in the night attend. She had read about these creatures but had never thought she could be one of them. All the lies and betrayal lead to only one thing.

Will Maeve choose to fight against them and save their pack, or fight with them and destroy everything.


My fingers pressed to the fresh mark beneath my ear. It pulsed faintly, aching, not from pain. From absence.
From her.
I closed my eyes and tried again, just like I had the past five minutes. I reached for her through the mate bond, through the invisible tether.
“She marked me,” I whispered, voice raw. “And now she’s gone. What the fuck does that even mean?”

I curled myself tighter into the hoodie I’d thrown over my shoulders. her hoodie, oversized and frayed at the cuffs, still smelling like firewood and wind and whatever wild scent always clung to her. I wrapped her blanket tighter around me, but it didn’t help. It just made everything worse.

Because it wasn’t her arms. And it may never be. I stood up suddenly, the grief boiling into anger, into motion. I paced the room like a storm bottled in a body. My mind kept flashing to her face, glowing gold in the candlelight, shadows flickering across her jaw, those haunted eyes that held so many fucking secrets.

To many fucking secrets.

Ruby Steele, 30, beautiful, fit, seems just like any other ex-pat hiding out in the Bahamas and playing local bartender. But unruly patrons find out the hard way: Ruby is a mixed-martial-arts pro, and not one you’d want to cross.In fact, Ruby would be a champion if she hadn’t been forced to walk away and hide out in the Bahamas.Because Ruby knows too much. She knows where the bodies are buried. And she knows when it’s time to get out of town.But what Ruby doesn’t know is why there is a dead tourist in the dumpster behind her seedy bar.Or why, she, of all people, had to find it.Or why this guy was out at 3am when he had a pretty fiancé waiting in a hotel room a mile away.Or why the local cops are pinning her.Or why she’s gonna be forced into a choice: find the killer, or do hard time herself.For Ruby, good choices have never been her strong point.And this one’s definitely not going to be good…Welcome to the Bahamian world of Ruby Steele, replete with her local dive bar, her wily pet monkey, her major drinking problem, her (way) too many fights, her inability to get herself out of trouble, and her fists made of stone. Ruby’s life is a complete wreck. But there’s one thing she’s good at: capturing your heart.ON THE ROCKS (A RUBY STEELE COZY MYSTERY) is the debut novel in a page-turning cozy mystery/thriller series, one that will linger with you long after the last page is read. Books #2 (EXTRA DIRTY) and #3 (FULL-BODIED) in the series are also available.

“Mine,” I heard him say, as his eyes turned a bright shade of red. Maybe I should've shouted for help. Or hit one of his men, who was holding me in place.

Instead, my heart stirred at the sound of his voice.

“I always get what I want.” He continued. “And I'm taking you with me.” He stared directly into my eyes, and my breath turned raspy. He looked scary, yet I wasn't afraid of him.

I turned back towards the dark alley. If I didn't go with him, I'd be caught by those killers sent by my father.

But this man didn't look human. I took a deep breath, and made my decision quickly.

“Yes, I'm yours.”


On her wedding day, Mirabella Aurel eloped, only to be captured by a strange man.

Danger. That was what came to mind, once she locked gazes with Zeke Elliott. Plunged into a world of darkness, power, and abnormality, Mirabella discovers that she might have just jumped from frying pan to fire.

In the midst of all, she finds herself falling for a vampire whom she never thought existed. And he might be the only one who can protect her, and help her enact revenge on her…father.

“They begged for mercy,” he said coldly, his eyes distant. “But mercy died the day they killed her.”he snarled, his eyes cold as steel. “They killed the only woman I ever loved, and for that, you’ll suffer.”

Love died in him the day his lover was taken by a family of hunters. As the ruthless Alpha of the Bloodmoon Clan, he has spent years hunting the Crescent Hunters, the family of werewolf slayers who killed his lover. Revenge is his only purpose-until he discovers his fated mate is the daughter of those very hunters, his plan to annihilate them is turned upside down.

Will he use her to destroy her own family? Or will she be the one to melt the heart he thought he’d buried long ago? Can he kill the family that took everything from him, even if it means destroying the woman he's bound to protect?

"I’ll keep you alive. Even if you hate me till your last breath, Aiden."

"Keep me alive? You’re dragging me straight to hell! My exams, my life, even the right to drink a damn coffee in peace，you’ve wrecked it all!"

1820, under a blood moon. Alpha King Aldrich watched his pregnant mate die, his kingdom burn. Rescued from the executioner’s block by rogue wolves, he dug his nails into the dirt and swore: every debt would be paid in blood.

The Great Red Moon Prophecy had promised him an heir，the strongest Alpha to ever walk. He’d believed it. Gambled everything. And lost.

Centuries later, in a London café, final-year nursing student Aiden chugs coffee over his finals notes. One step from his white coat, until a man named Aldrich walks in and drops a secret that makes his hands shake.

"You’re half-werewolf." The man’s voice is ice. "And you’re the one from the prophecy. The ‘strongest’."

Normalcy shatters like his coffee mug. Aiden only knows this: since the man arrived, the weirdness haven’t stopped—wolf howls outside his dorm, emotions spiking out of control, strange eyes watching him from the shadows.

He hates Aldrich. Hates the chaos, hates the weight in his eyes, hates the flicker of something unfamiliar in his own chest.

But when the first threat，claw marks, bloodstained，appears on his dorm door, when he finds his mother’s "accidental death" wasn’t an accident, Aiden has to face it.

Some fates won’t stay buried.

Shadows from 1820. Fangs hidden in modern streets. All of them are hunting the "strongest",hunting "him".

Aldrich says he won’t lose again. But as Aiden stares at the centuries-old king’s back, shielding him from the dark, he can’t help wondering—

What did he lose, all those years ago?

And why… "him"?

I'm Sophie White, an orphan who was arranged to marry Bay City's most powerful devil—the ruthless, dangerous, and devastatingly handsome Adam Foster.

"Adam, please..." I whimpered as his touch set my body aflame. From the bathroom to his massive bed, he claimed me relentlessly until dawn, leaving me breathless and burning with desire.

But beneath our passionate nights lurked a terrifying reality. My fairy tale marriage became a nightmare of obsession and control. He monitored my every move, threatened my unborn child, and kept me prisoner in his golden cage.

Everything changed the night he led me to his secret basement—a chamber of horrors where his own father had tortured him for five years. As I stared at the chains and shadows of his past, I finally glimpsed the broken soul behind those cold eyes.

Was this vulnerability real? Or was I falling deeper into the trap of Bay City's most dangerous predator?

Just when I thought I knew all his secrets, I discovered something that would shatter both our worlds forever...

"Please, no—stop!" I begged, but Alexander just snarled, pinning my wrists above my head as he rammed his throbbing cock into my slick, unwilling pussy, stretching me wide with brutal force. "Fuck, you're so tight, you dirty little whore—take every thick inch!"

I'm Nora Frost—wait, Nora Traynor—sold like a cheap commodity by my greedy parents for $100 million to Alexander Claflin, Kingsley City's savage billionaire beast. Post-wedding, he uncovered my secret pregnancy and detonated: labeling me a cum-slut, and snarling demands to slaughter the "bastard spawn" in my womb.

The bombshell? That baby was his—conceived in our filthy, passion-fueled one-night fuckfest. He melted, worshipping me with desperate love, vowing an eternal family... until a car crash erased only me from his memory—every trace of Nora, our child, our love—while he recalled everyone else. Cue his manipulative ex, Vivian Brooks, slinking in like a venomous snake.

And I caught them mid-fuck: "Oh fuck, Alexander, pound me harder—deeper!" she wailed, "Yes! Fill me up, baby—make me scream!" "FUCK YES! I'M CUMMING!" she shrieked, his roaring climax spilling into her as they collapsed in tangled ecstasy.

Devastated, I fled. Five years later, I return with our son—a mini-Alexander, with piercing green eyes and dark hair. When he spots the boy, realization dawns: this isn't simple. As buried truths erupt and Alexander hunts me with obsessive fury, one scorching question ignites: Will our rekindled fire heal us... or destroy everything?

The most humiliating moment of my early life was when my father drove my mother and me out of our home. From a pampered heiress, I fell to the depths of a bar hostess. It was there that I encountered a man I would never forget for the rest of my life. After a one-night stand, I accepted his proposal—who could refuse someone they had admired for so long?

I thought I'd found redemption, but it turned out the pregnancy was a misdiagnosis! From then on, Raymond offered me nothing but money and sex. In this loveless marriage, I endured five years. Just when I thought my life would remain this way forever, he brought a little boy home.

Watching my stepsister's smug smile, my world crumbled. "Raymond, let's get a divorce!"

Three years ago, as Luna Gray, I secretly seduced Gabriel Ashford—heir to a powerhouse family—luring him into a scorching underground fling during our college days in Vale City. For three wild months, our passion burned hot and hidden, until I dumped him cold, leaving him reeling.

Now, I'm engaged to the Anderson family's polished gentleman—a strategic move that ignites Gabriel's explosive return from London. He's back in Vale City, transformed into a ruthless financial kingpin with the infamous "Big Cannon" nickname (earned from his handsome, towering build and the swirling rumors of his enormous dick—though only I know the truth: it's huge, and it wrecked me every time, pushing me to the brink of ecstasy I could barely endure).

Our secret past detonates, shocking Vale City's elite circles. Everyone braces for revenge from the ice-veined CEO, popcorn in hand. Instead, a viral video leaks: me straddling him in his top-tier ride on a foggy roadside, his dark eyes stormy as he grips my hips, slamming me against the steering wheel. We're grinding hard, my nails digging into his shoulders while he growls, "Feel how you own this cock, Luna? Beg for it." But in a heartbeat, he crumbles—eyes red, voice breaking: "Baby, I fucked up. Please, love me again?"

Everyone knew Kieran Blackwood was the most dangerous man in this city—mafia boss, hands stained with blood.

And I, Aurelia Fairmont, the rebellious heiress, was his dirty little secret.

Every night, he'd pin me beneath him, claiming me with that rough whisper against my ear: "You're mine. Always." That possessive hunger made me believe I meant something to him.

Until she came back.

When danger struck, he didn't hesitate for a second. He dove for her, shielding her body with his own.

I was just his plaything while he waited for her return. A toy that could moan.

When she stole my mother's heirloom, he didn't just refuse to help—he locked me in his basement and tortured me for seven days and nights. That's when I finally saw the truth.

The day I left, I didn't look back.

What I didn't know was that after I left, the man went insane...

"I love you, Caitlin," he murmurs against my neck, his breath coming in hot, ragged bursts as his hands explore my body, setting every nerve alight with raw, desperate need. But which one is it tonight—Daniel with his soft, lingering touches, Ryan's brutal grip that leaves bruises blooming on my hips, or Patrick's powerful thrusts that own me completely?

I'm Caitlin Morrison, a cutthroat lawyer juggling three men who thought they had the upper hand. At first, they treated me like a toy: Daniel, my old friend, turning our cozy mornings into no-strings convenience; Ryan, the wild rocker, owning my body in sweaty, primal nights of pure animal lust; and Patrick, my domineering boss, turning illicit office hookups into his private thrill, leaving me spent and craving more. They figured they could fuck me and forget the feelings, tossing them aside like yesterday's trash.

But I turned the tables, hooking them deep until they were the ones obsessed, realizing too late—they were my playthings, addicted and pleading for my mercy.

I stayed in this city for Dorian, pushed my way into his company, and saved every penny for three years just so we could build a home together.
But an anonymous flash drive shoved a video of him cheating in our bed right into my face. The next day, a promotion announcement handed the position I’d bled for to the very woman who seduced him.
With my dignity crushed to dust, I had only one person left to rely on—my gentle, almost obsessively devoted stepbrother, Ambrose.
He promised to make those scumbags tear each other apart. He promised Dorian would crawl back to my feet like a dog.
He offered me a "secret recipe" with immediate results.
I expected a deeply satisfying revenge. I never imagined what that so-called recipe actually was...

The remote vacation villa was saturated with suffocating male testosterone.
Deep in the night, my life-saving suppressants inexplicably vanished. The moment the drugs wore off, my unspeakable secret—my sex addiction—unleashed its most violent, lethal backlash in history.
What was even more fatal was that, through a twisted twist of fate, the man I was forced to share a room with tonight was my stepbrother, renowned for his absolute abstinence and cold, iron-fisted ruthlessness.
I thought that once my embarrassingly out-of-control, in-heat state was exposed, he would treat me like a monster and kick me away in disgust.
But I never expected—
This aloof man, who usually wouldn't even spare me a glance, now carried an irresistible, scorching aggression, ruthlessly sliding his large, rough hand straight up my thoroughly soaked panties...

My mad mother, in her final moments, pressed a set of Russian nesting dolls into my arms.
"These cost me thirty years of my life. In return, they'll give you three ways out of death."
The first doll told me to go to a bar and bring home the third strange man I met.
The second doll, she said to open on the eve of my wedding. There was no note inside. Only a photograph — my groom, killing a woman wearing the exact same wedding dress as mine.
Three years later, on the eve of another wedding, I opened the last doll. I read the note, smiled, and dropped it in the trash.
It was only later that I understood —
This mad woman saw more clearly than anyone sane in this world.
Mom, I'm sorry.

In the southern summer, the air hung heavy with the scent of overripe peaches.
Yet that cloying sweetness couldn't mask the near-frenzied hunger of women crowding Grandma's shop—pushing, shoving, desperate for a slice of peach pie priced at ten thousand dollars.
I never understood why this tiny shop drove countless women into such frenzy, even to their knees, begging.
Until that summer night, when Auntie slipped into the basement.
Through the darkness came her muffled moans, mingled with strange wet sounds...

I've been reborn, transported back to the day I gave birth to my daughter.

In my past life, I humbled myself for love, only to be betrayed by my husband Caspian and his mistress Serafina.

They disfigured me, murdered my little girl, and threw me in prison.

This time around, I'm divorcing him without a second thought, holding my daughter close, and escaping this living hell!

I divorced the same man nine times.
The first eight times, I was the one sobbing, begging him not to go.
The ninth time, I was the one who slid the papers across the table.
He signed them, then told me we'd remarry once she left.
I said okay.
What he didn't know was that my flight was already booked.
This time, I was leaving for good.

My name is Nora Monroe. Thirty-two weeks pregnant, ready to pop anytime.
This morning, my husband Everett left town, leaving me and my cat, Piper, alone at home.
Deep into the night, a strange woman called. Her voice was gentle, apologetic—she said my cat Piper had somehow wandered downstairs. She was severely allergic to cat dander and couldn't bring her up to me. I grabbed my coat, ready to head down, when the baby suddenly gave me a vicious kick. The pain sent me collapsing back onto the sofa, unable to move.
The woman on the phone urged me over and over. I looked up, my eyes falling on the corner of the living room.
Piper was sitting right there, staring unblinkingly at me...

Married to Declan Hargrove for three years, I kept my past locked away tight. I let no one near Greybell, and I never, ever mentioned the name Calloway.
Until Piper excitedly dug up the "incest scandal" between me and my own brother. The Hargrove family booked their flights that very night, vowing to fly to Greybell and tear my "white-trash" parents to shreds.
I knelt on the carpet, shaking and sobbing.
But hiding behind the curtain of my long hair, no one saw the truth. I wasn’t begging for my own life.
I was begging for theirs.
Because my brother, Reid, had already gotten the news. He was in Greybell right now, preparing an unforgettable "feast" for our arrogant guests.

During routine rounds, I never gave Linus Crewe a second thought. Nineteen years old, diagnosed with persistent hallucinatory disorder, just another trust fund kid tossed into the psych ward like garbage by his own family.
But that day, he locked eyes with me and claimed that the moment his skin touched someone else's, he could see their deepest, darkest secrets.
I scoffed. As a female doctor who married into money, harbored a thirst for revenge, and kept a secret lover on the side, someone seeing through my facade was my ultimate nightmare.
I thought he was just playing mind games.
Until he recounted, word for word, things even my husband didn't know. He just smiled and said: Then tell me, Dr. Hollister... why is your heart racing when you look at me?

Dorian, my boyfriend of three years, was a partner at a top-tier Boston law firm. He was gentle, refined, and absolutely flawless.
A week ago, he buried his face in my neck late at night, whispering that the city was suffocating him. He wanted to take me back to his hometown to meet Octavia, the grandmother who had single-handedly raised him.
I agreed without hesitation.
But on Crane Island, every night Dorian would slip out of our bed, using Octavia's gout as an excuse.
Until that night. I crept barefoot to Octavia’s door and pressed my ear against the wood.
What I heard wasn’t a sick old woman. It was Dorian’s heavy panting, mixed with the shameless, breathy moans of a young woman...

I got off work two hours early, hoping to surprise my boyfriend whom I had just bailed out for $30,000.
I pushed the bedroom door open. The surprise was on me—my stepsister Chloe was straddling Dorian. The same man who, just three days ago, sat crying on the police station floor swearing "I only have you," now slowly lit a cigarette and asked if I wanted to join them.
I thought that was the worst moment of my life.
I was wrong.
When the hand that had just been caressing Chloe gripped my throat and hoisted me into the air, I finally saw the truth. Dorian Vane, the guy who humiliated me at our high school prom ten years ago, hadn't changed at all.

In my first life, blinded by greed, I claimed to be that mysterious woman. Silas glanced at my left shoulder and said coldly, "No butterfly tattoo." His bodyguards dragged me to the backyard and shattered my ribs with a baseball bat.
In my second life, Cleo learned from my mistake. She got the butterfly tattoo at an underground parlor. But Silas lifted her skirt and sneered, "No birthmark on her inner thigh." We were thrown into the frozen lake behind the mountain.
"Find her. She's in the West Wing." Silas Brennan's cold command echoed through the Brennan Estate again. Cleo and I locked eyes, terror gripping us.
We were the only maids in the West Wing.

As the heiress to the Sinclair family, I inherited billions, yet a car crash left my legs completely paralyzed, confining me to a cold wheelchair for the rest of my life.
My husband, Dashiell, spent three years meticulously caring for me—pushing my chair, feeding me my meds, and holding me as I slept.
That evening, while I was soaking in a warm bath, he pushed the door open. His handsome face carried that familiar smile: "Honey, can I... have you in the tub?"
"I'm a bit tired today," I rubbed my temples and softly declined. "Carry me out."
The moment the words left my lips, his smile twisted hideously. With a vicious sneer, he grabbed my neck and shoved my head brutally underwater...

I was taking six-year-old Arabella to fit her dress for the theater's grand opening.
As we crossed the intersection, a truck suddenly lost control and T-boned our car.
When I opened my eyes again, an agonizing pain ripped through me. I opened my mouth to call out Everett's name, only to hear his hushed voice seeping through the crack in the door—
"Staging an unavoidable accident was the only way to use the emergency room as a cover for the drug trial."
"Now that Ophelia's treatment is a success, there's naturally no need for that little bastard to live."
My Arabella. She was secretly wheeled into the operating room by him, used as a human guinea pig for his mistress Delilah's daughter, who had bone cancer. Her sweet, bell-like vocal cords were cruelly carved out and transplanted into another child's throat.
In that defining moment, I realized he had never loved my daughter.
But what he didn't know—the child he just murdered with his own hands was his one and only flesh and blood.

Eight years of marriage. Fluent in seven languages. Yet I never dared speak a word in front of my husband.

He claimed to be allergic to my voice—hearing me talk gave him headaches, ringing ears, made his whole body ache.

To change my voice, I underwent four vocal cord surgeries. My voice became hoarse, rough as sandpaper scraping concrete. But no matter how hard I tried, he still clutched his ears in pain.

For eight years, I blamed myself. I thought I was the one dragging him down.

Until our anniversary, when our daughter casually yanked off his "hearing aid" and tossed it on the couch.

I picked it up and put it in my ear. What I heard was my cousin Freya's flirtatious voice, and his tender response.

That moment, I finally understood—

No matter what I did, all this man ever wanted from me was silence.

Siren's Reef only breeds women.
On this isolated island, Henrietta's orphanage takes in all fatherless girls. She raises us until our eighteenth birthday—the night of the "Coral Crowning," an annual coming-of-age ritual that supposedly earns the Sea God's blessing.
My sister Saffron and I are identical twins, raised wearing the exact same face.
But on this island, the same face doesn't spell the same fate. She was the one Henrietta spoiled from birth; I was the one allowed to trail behind her.
I thought it would always be this way. Until she died. Henrietta claimed Saffron broke the rules and was flayed alive by the serrated edges of the reef. But that day, I saw it with my own eyes: Saffron's signature dimple had appeared on Henrietta's cheek—where none had been before.

My billionaire lover brought out a bespoke mermaid gown, declaring he would marry whoever could fit into it.
But in my past four lives, every woman who tried it on—whether an ambitious imposter or me, his true love—was brutally tortured and murdered by him.
In my fifth rebirth, the butler knocked on our door with a polite smile, "Mr. Voss says his true love is among you."
Since we four women would die no matter who wore it...
We exchanged a look in the dead silence, turned our heads in perfect unison, and locked our eyes onto the only man in the room.

Our clan worships the Spider Goddess.
To keep this face, every girl in our bloodline must sacrifice a truly evil man every ten years.
Just two weeks before my twentieth birthday, my mom asked me again over the phone:
"Sweetie, is it really that hard to find a sufficiently bad guy in a place like Ashfield?"
Right now, I’m looking at my boyfriend, who just handcuffed me to a bed. He’s laughing, negotiating a price with a buyer, thinking I’m tonight’s merchandise.
I think to myself—
Mom, I can answer your question now. This guy’s wickedness easily rivals your husband's—my father.

Three years of marriage. Three pregnancies.

Every time I confirmed I was pregnant, my sister-in-law Ophelia would walk into the chapel behind the manor.

Then my in-laws would drag me to the hospital and force me to abort the healthy baby.

The night after my third miscarriage, I dragged my weakened body to follow her into the chapel.

The moment I pushed open that door, my blood ran cold.

In that instant, I finally understood why my three children had to die.

"Who would want a woman like Hazel?"
On the night before our wedding, my fiancé Randy said this in front of everyone.
I stood outside, listening silently before walking away.
Sure enough, at the wedding, he abandoned me to save my sister who was jumping from a building.
"The wedding continues!"
I said with a smile, turning to embrace my disabled husband.
Afterward, I did exactly as they wished, ensuring they would never be apart.
Half a month later, I looked at my ex-fiancé with contempt.
"Compared to my husband, are you even worth mentioning?"

Three years. He worshipped me by day and bedded her by night.
I saw everything. I felt everything—she made sure of that.
So on the night of his coronation, I severed our bond and walked away.
He bled. He knelt. He begged.
Too late.
When I wore white again, it wasn't for him.

In my past life, I replaced my runaway sister Beatrice and was forced to marry mob enforcer Rowan Sinclair.
She thought he was poor with no future, so she ran. My parents didn't even tell me before sending me in her place.
Rowan knew the truth. He carried it like shame, never truly seeing me—only cold stares and silent contempt. I spent years beside him like an unwanted ghost, carefully managing his world while he rose from despised smuggler to feared godfather.
Then his attitude began to change.
Just when I thought we might have a real future, Beatrice returned with tears and lies, claiming I'd stolen her place. Rowan believed her. My parents betrayed me. Everyone chose her.
When a rival family captured us both, guns to our heads, only one could survive.
Rowan pulled Beatrice into his arms and abandoned me without a glance.
They tortured me for three days. The baby in my womb died first. Its father never knew it existed.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back to that afternoon before it all began.

In a secluded modern villa, painter Iris Vale begins to suspect the pills hidden in her meals are stealing more than her sleep. As fragments of a buried night resurface—bleached kitchens, a locked basement, shattered glass on a staircase, and the shadow of her dead sister Nora—family protection curdles into psychological captivity. Dark, tense, and intimate, this is a memory-thriller of guilt, control, and the terror of facing what was done in the name of love.

"I want to break off this engagement!" I stormed into his office, slamming the letter on his desk, my heart pounding with fury after being humiliated by his family's staff. Little did I know, the devastatingly handsome man staring back at me wasn't my fiancé at all—he was his uncle, Rex Sterling, who'd lied about being my betrothed to win me over.

What started as a forced arrangement exploded into a whirlwind of passion: lavish gifts, stolen kisses, and a secret wedding that made me Mrs. Sterling. But when the truth shattered our fairy tale at a family gathering—complete with a punch-throwing nephew and scandalized elite—I had to confront the beautiful lie that built our love.

After being reborn, the first thing my sister and I did was swap our grooms.
In our past life, my gentle sister Elara married Felix Hawthorne, the mafia godfather of Marconi City. Surrounded by a domineering sister-in-law and a scheming, manipulative other woman, she was slowly driven into a corner and died of a broken heart.
Meanwhile, I married the polite, illegitimate son of the Graves family. He was a perfect gentleman, but he just didn't love me. Our marriage lasted three years, and we were separated for two and a half of them.
Then one day, Elara and I woke up at the exact same moment—we had been reborn, back to the very morning we were supposed to sign our marriage agreements...

My six-year-old daughter Emily blurted, "I'm getting a new mommy!" while my son Jacob smirked.

"Oh my God, Nate—your sister? Pregnant with your kid? You sick bastard!" I screamed across the restaurant, my voice cracking like thunder as heads snapped around.

For eight years, I'd slaved like a nanny in our home—cooking, cleaning, raising Jacob and Emily—while he dismissed me as worthless. My own kids sneered, calling me lazy and saying I'd never measure up to their Aunt Chloe. Even his venomous mother Barbara spat insults, grinding me under her heel like dirt. Betrayed by them all, I finally snapped.

Little did they know, my mom's $100 million inheritance unlocked the second I divorced that cheat. From doormat wife to billionaire, I rose—exposing their lies, reclaiming my life.

Game over, asshole. Time to watch you beg.

I tricked my billionaire husband into signing divorce papers—he had no idea.

"Exam documents," I lied.

His ex-wife laughed. "Boring paperwork. Don't bother reading it."

He signed without even looking.

Three years of marriage. I thought he'd learn to love me. Ever since she came back, my dinners grew cold while I reheated them alone. I waited in our bed, night after night. I watched him drop everything and run to her with every phone call.

Then I found out I was pregnant.

That same day, I saw him at the hospital—holding her hand, asking about her baby.

I finally stopped waiting.

I left the estate at dawn. Left behind the jewelry, the designer clothes, the empty promises.

Then he showed up at my door.

"I know about the baby," his voice was raw. "I know about the accident. I know everything."

He looked at me like I was his entire world.

Three years too late? Or just in time?

Everyone says I’m crazy.
My husband, Adrien, is Ashmont College’s most esteemed professor—suave, composed, and highly logical. I, on the other hand, am an investigative journalist whose nerves are fried by looming deadlines and too much caffeine. Yet, I insist there’s a woman who shares my exact face, who crawls out of our bedroom mirror every night and slips into my husband’s bed.
Our security cameras always "happen" to glitch at the crucial moments. My son avoids me like I’m a monster, and my neighbors claim they cheerfully greeted "me" in the driveway a few days ago—even though I don't even own a vintage pink dress.
Adrien has started dropping phrases like "psych evaluation" and "sole custody." If I let this drag on any longer, he’s going to personally commit me to a psych ward.
So tonight, I lied about flying to Chicago. Instead, I’m hiding in my own study—waiting for that identical face to crawl out of the mirror one more time.

The day he proposed, Atticus knelt before me, holding the Hale family's heirloom necklace.
I thought I had finally survived the ordeal.
After eight years of unrequited love, being humiliated by his sister, nitpicked by his mother, and mocked by the city's socialites for being unworthy of the Hales... Until this very moment, when he personally fastened the heirloom around my neck. Everyone saw it. I, Clara, was finally accepted by the Hale family.
Tears in my eyes, I said yes, thinking it was the happiest moment of my life.
But just days after putting on that necklace, bizarre red rashes crawled up my neck. My pale skin rotted away piece by piece, and my internal organs went into irreversible failure.
The most absurd part? The exact same day I started rotting, his dying mother miraculously cured her terminal illness, and his sister's half-destroyed face was restored to flawless perfection.
Disfigured and barely looking human, I threw myself off the Harbour Bridge—
I opened my eyes, and I was back on the day of the proposal.