How Old Is Maya Le Clark

What will happen when two Alpha Bloods collide? Will sparks fly or will the battle for supremacy begin?  ¤¤¤¤¤ "Leave." A groan left my throat before I shut my eyes, trying to erase the image of her nakedness, but my action was futile — no matter how I tried to block it off, her alluring body kept seeping into my head. "Are you losing it? Should I start commanding you to undress for me, Alpha?" Her voice came out so seductive that my throat suddenly felt too dry. I wanted nothing but to give in. But this was all wrong. I shouldn't cross the line between us. "I believe you have forgotten that I am the Alpha of this pack." I opened my eyes, hands coiling into fists. "And I think you forgot that I am an Alpha as well. You can't tell me what to do, Jace." I let a smug smirk form on my lips before I locked eyes with the beautiful lioness in front of me.  "How sure are you that I can't tell you what to do?" I licked my lips as I began to unbuckle my belt. "On your knees, Amara..." ¤¤¤¤¤ Alpha Jace Galhart had always known what he wanted from the start: to be the perfect Alpha for his pack while waiting for his fated mate. He thought he was doing well until Amara came and showed him that perhaps breaking the rules he set for himself wasn't that bad at all.

"I didn't do anything wrong," I choked out. "You stuck your nose into my private matters," he hissed. "No one can sentence me without proof," I challenged him. He straightened up. Any traces of a smile abruptly disappeared from his face. "You still don't get it, do you? I own this city. It means that if I say you go to jail, that means you go to jail." He leaned over me again, his stare piercing right through me, "And if I say that I want you, that means you are already mine." My jaw tensed as I resisted an urge to talk back. This wasn't a battle I could win, and this wasn't a man I could win against... How did I get myself into all that mess?! *** My name is Cora Bell, and I'm about to marry Aren Lan, New York's most wanted bachelor. A dream come true? I highly doubt that. The guy is an arrogant, wealthy beyond imagination, asshole. Not to mention that our relationship is based solely on a contract, a contract I was forced to sign when I accidentally ruined this guy's engagement... I used to dream of a simple life. I wanted to graduate from university and work as a software programmer, but my fate chose a different path for me to follow. First, I had to give up on my studies to take care of dear Grandma, and now I'm forced to play the role of a manipulative jerk's loving fiancée! The problem is that my husband-to-be is insanely sexy and enjoys teasing me a bit too much. How the hell am I going to survive being close to him throughout the two years of our fake marriage?!

TRIGGER WARNING!! Sexual content. Slavery. 18+. Violence at the beginning. Abuse. Read at own risk. ~ ALPHA IAN ~ I have a sexy wife who I let everyone f**k, I feel nothing for her, to me she's my means of release and pride. My pack not only shares everything, they share everyone. Conquering packs for fun is our hobby. To us there is no such thing as a mate, because of the curse that the moon goddess bestowed upon us. But ever since I conquered the blood moon pack, I'm beginning to wonder what I feel for the filthy runt of the pack. I want no one to touch her. And what's worse is that I want to spread her legs apart and thrust my c**k into her tight, sweet p***y violently just so I could satisfy my urge and desires.

Five years ago, Elena Carter made the mistake of a lifetime — participating in the ruthless billionaire’s smokescreen, Damian Sinclair. A night to remember, never to forget, and then she slipped away, taking a secret that could tear apart his world. Now, intent on revealing a scandal, Elena reimmerses herself in Damian’s world. But when he learns the truth — that she kept his son from him — he is furious, possessive, and unwilling to let her slip away again. He gives an ultimatum: split the year with him or lose everything. Stuck in his frigid, gilded universe, Elena fights against his hold, yet the spark between them won't extinguish. With secrets unraveling and enemies closing in, Damian and Elena find themselves in a deadly

Fate twists its vines in ways we can't comprehend. For Sylvie, it brought the force of a Tyrant Alpha and the ruthless Salvalor pack. Sylvie learned to live with her handicap. Stay out of business of other wolves and they'll leave her alone. Mostly. War, however, soon reaches her doorstep. Forced to submit to Malphas, one of the last living Lycans, with a bloody streak and reputation for having the shortest fuse, Sylvie's quiet life turns upside down. Run or serve, the choice is easy. Malphas and the wolf within him, Valac, are the two names whispered in fear. Packs are falling, wolves are dying, territories are burning. The sky is red with blood, in his eyes. The thirst for it, unquenchable. He lives for the thrill of the kill, yet struggles to contain his disdain towards wolves. Rebuilding the line of Lycans, and the Kingdom of Silas to its former glory, is most important. Getting revenge is just a convenience. Imagine the surprise when he finds the last village to pillage, before crossing wolven borders, and a hidden gem within it. The Omega runt throws his senses into confused calmness, and for the first time neither he, nor Valac, feel the urge to kill. Refusing to admit, but finding it intriguing, Malphas takes Sylvie as his cup-girl. What threads will fate weave for the two? Will Sylvie survive under Malphas's command? Will he solve the puzzle behind the quiet, little runt or will his anger and cruelty bury her into the ground? Can Sylvie unravel the mystery hidden in Malphas's eyes? Enjoy the slow burning flames and the rusted blood that keeps them going.

"Lucien, let's get a divorce," I said in a peremptory tone that was long overdue, the most decisive farewell to this absurd marriage. We had been married for exactly three years—three years that, for me, were filled with nothing but endless loneliness and torment. For three years, the husband who should have stood by my side through every storm, Lucien Sullivan, had completely disappeared from my life as if he had never existed. He vanished without a trace, leaving me alone to endure this empty, desolate marriage. Today, I finally received his message: "I'm back. Come pick me up at the airport." When I read his words, my heart leapt with joy, and I raced to the airport, thinking that he finally understood my love and was coming back to me. But his cruelty was far worse than I could have ever imagined—he was accompanied by a pregnant woman, and that woman was Carla, my closest and most trusted friend. In that moment, all of my previous excitement, all my hope, and all of our shared laughter and tears turned into the sharpest of daggers, stabbing into my heart and leaving me gasping for air. He should know that it was his own hand that trampled our love underfoot, that his coldness and betrayal created this irreparable situation. But when he heard those words, he desperately clung to this broken, crumbling marriage, unwilling to let it end—almost as though doing so could rewind time and return everything to how it used to be. "Aurora, come back. I regret everything!" Regret? Those simple words stirred no emotion in me—only endless sadness and fury. My heart let out a frantic, desperate scream: It's too late for any of this!