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For centuries, witches have fallen victim to the cruel tradition of witch-hunting. Baila is their only hope at salvation but she destroys all chances the witches have to gain power and freedom by repeating the horrible mistake that started the witch hunt. Hunted and ashamed, Baila dives into more trouble by trespassing into werewolf territory where the ruthless lycan king reigns. When she faces him, she realises that stories of his brutality may just be stories and not the truth. Time is running out and thousands of witches are being slaughtered because of her mistake but Baila's plan to use the lycan king to save her people gets complicated when she finds herself falling. Will the lycan king catch her? If he does, all hell will break loose and every dying flame and hatred against lycans and werewolves will be kindled.

The adventures of three young women as they navigate through life, love, and other stuff while in the city. Brooklyn dreams of being a successful author, but in the meantime, she's got to pay the bills. That means working as a barista while working on her writing in her off time. Addy has always longed to be a famous designer, but she needs to find a way to break onto the scene. Has her big break finally come? Shea loves to shop, but she wants more. She just needs to find it.

The night before the bond ceremony, the moonlight was like silver, sprinkling over the altar of the werewolf tribe. The Moon Goddess chose Jonah's white moonlight, Emma, and assigned her to William, the tyrannical alpha of the werewolf tribe.His blood flows with the power of the ancient wolf king, but also with untamed wildness. Rumor has it that every woman who spends the night with William will be covered in bruises the next day. William’s desire is intertwined with his wolf nature, and the silver bed is his unique symbol. Silver is poison and a test for werewolves. William would let those women lie on the cold silver bed, watching their pain of being eroded by silver and the joy of desire intertwined, making painful moans and confused gasps. This contradictory torture is the catalyst for his wild desire. Jonah knows William's cruelty well, and he can't bear Emma to be the next victim. So, under the protection of the moonlight, he kidnapped Emma one step ahead and completed the marking ceremony with her under the witness of the Moon Goddess. And I, the woman abandoned by Jonah. The vows I made turned to ashes under the moonlight, and my name became a laughingstock in the tribe. In the evening, the setting sun was like blood, and William's figure appeared in front of my tent. His golden pupils flickered in the twilight with the aggression of a beast. His voice was low and threatening: "Since Jonah has robbed my partner, you can be my Luna: how about it?" Luna, the partner of the alpha in the werewolf tribe, symbolizes power and glory, but also means endless bondage and danger. I raised my head, looked directly into his eyes, and a sneer appeared at the corner of my mouth: "Okay."

“One day earlier or later—what’s the difference?” Henry asked calmly. It was my thirtieth birthday. The deadline of the promise he made beside my dying mother’s bed. But that day, he needed to take his pregnant sister-in-law to her prenatal appointment. “She’s carrying my late brother’s only child,” he said. “Why are you fighting her for this?” I wasn’t fighting for a date. I was fighting for the last shred of dignity in a fifteen-year love. The girl who once meant everything to him Had slowly become the unreasonable one. The sister-in-law who used to disgust him Had somehow become the one he needed to protect. So I smiled and said, “Fine.” And I left. Three days later, I turned thirty without him. That was the day Henry Jones began to regret it. Because soon he would learn— The baby wasn’t his brother’s. The betrayal didn’t start with me. And the woman he chose to hurt… was the only one who ever stood by him. But by then—I was already gone. And this time,He would be the one begging.

-Who are you?" Finally, he stopped the silence. His words were strong, angry, and loud. "-What?" I felt so confused still couldn’t let my eyes from his new look. And his actions of killing without any emotions made my voice trembling. "-I...TOLD...YOU...WHO... THE FUCK... ARE... YOU...?" With stiff teeth he seemed to lose his patience, slowly and frighteningly, he asked, no, ordered to me, without lifting his eyes from me, with every word he took a step closer to me until I could smell the sweat, dirt smell of his ammunition from him. His hard chest-like rock was so close that it barely touched my body. I was shivering he was so scary and I still wanted him badly. "-Are you joking with me? How to understand, who am I?" I whispered... I stopped our deep gaze, even though it wasn't easy. -"What's happening here? Where are we? Why are you...." I couldn't finish one of my hundreds of questions when my husband turned his eyes away from me to his men. -"Take that strange ‘pause from his lips, his eyes traveled from the top of my head to my legs" bitch, to the cell, that little mouth soon will be open for me. And she will talk as well too."

On Christmas Eve, my father got the man I had secretly loved for ten years drunk and sent him to my bed. When I woke up the next morning, Roy pulled away from my attempt at a good-morning kiss. His voice was cold and distant as he agreed to marry me. After the wedding, Roy wasted no time submitting a transfer request. He took an overseas post and left. He did not return for five years. I gave birth to our daughter, Eve, alone and waited for him to come back home. When I heard that Roy had finally applied to return to a domestic position, I was overjoyed. I spent days preparing, imagining our first reunion as husband and wife. But even when the clock struck midnight, he still hadn't come home. Our daughter, ever so thoughtful, placed her most treasured possession—a photograph of Roy—into my hands. "Don't cry, Mommy," she said softly. "Look, Daddy's right here." I tried to convince myself that his absence was due to a delayed flight. But later that night, while watching the news, I saw him. He was on a crowded city street, holding a young girl in his arms. Beside him stood a woman, her smile soft and warm. Facing the camera, Roy said, "Being with them is my greatest wish." At that moment, something inside me broke. I wrote up the divorce papers, packed our things, and planned to take Eve to change her identity. I didn't want him anymore. The day before we left, a man I had never met came to see me. He was Roy's father. "You could call me Dad," he said, a faint smile playing on his lips. "But I'd rather you call me Ryan." I told him everything about the past five years—how I had waited, how I had hoped. When I finished, he laughed softly, an unusual warmth in his voice. "If it was just business," he said, "perhaps your father should have tied a bow around me and sent me to your bed instead. But I hold my liquor well—if I ever end up wrapped in a bow, you can be sure it's by choice."