Prix Procreate

Alpha Kai's Son. My father's shadow still dominates the BloodCrest Pack I'm trying to lead; even becoming Alpha didn't change a damn thing. So I take my anger out on any poor bastard put in the steel ring with me. It calms me, but only for a few hours; because blood-red rage follows me everywhere I go. It follows me into the cage the night I'm pitted against an opponent half my size. An opponent with a bigger chest than your average gym buff. A woman... I think I'm doing the right thing by refusing the fight because I know this woman will meet Death at my hands. That is, until my wolf growls the word I never expected to hear in the middle of a fight. MATE. With a name as sweet as her scent and a right hook to match, I know I can't accept Cherie as my mate. Not with the beast I inherited from my tainted bloodline - a Lycan with a thirst for blood… So do I reject sweet Cherie to protect her, or do I indulge in the whims of my beast and claim her? * Cherie I didn't expect to meet my mate when I decided to step into that ring that night. But the second my wolf recognized its mate, I knew it wouldn't be over. Creed Volkov is every bit as terrifying as they say, but I won't allow myself to be bullied by another man. I've come here to win; I NEED to win in order to protect those close to me. Running away from Creed seems like the logical choice, I find myself in that ring with him again. Why can't I bring myself to say the Rejection Vow? And why am I suddenly having dreams about a red-haired woman?

As the project lead, I was supposed to receive an annual bonus of $28,000. However, my wife transferred all the money to her newly hired male assistant and simply tossed me a supermarket gift card instead. “There’s $30 on this card. Buy whatever you want. I’m pretty generous, aren’t I?” I was stunned. “Joy, my mother needs that money for her surgery. You can’t be serious!” She sneered and said, “Why waste money on someone who’s dying anyway? At most, I’ll give you $700 to pick out a nice coffin.” Looking at her smug face, I smiled as well. Joy probably forgot that although she held all the company shares, the core patents of the company were registered under my personal name. I immediately sent a message to my lawyer. [Starting today, I’m releasing all patents in my name for free!]

She cupped my face in her hands and said, slow and deliberate, "We're going to make a promise. Starting tomorrow, you'll draw one sun a day in your notebook. No skipping, no cheating—you have to fill it with thirty thousand suns. Only when you've drawn the last one can you come find me."

Maeve Edgar's life plan was simple: survive until Selection Day, then disappear forever. As the pack's favorite scapegoat, she's spent years perfecting the art of being invisible. But when she gets kidnapped and dumped in front of the most dangerous prince in the kingdom, invisible stops being an option. Prince Riven is everything the rumors say - cold, lethal, and absolutely not interested in playing nice. So why does he choose her for some mysterious academy that nobody's ever heard of? And why does being near him feel like remembering something she never knew she'd forgotten? Turns out the Blood Moon Academy is where pack heirs compete in brutal trials to earn a place in the Royal Court. Now she's stuck fighting alongside the same spoiled brats who used to torment her, trying to prove she belongs somewhere she was never supposed to be. The connection between them grows stronger with every moment they're in the same room. It's the kind of bond wolves used to have before the Great War - the kind everyone says is just a myth now. But people are asking questions about her family, her past, her dreams of faces she's never seen. The wrong kind of people. And some of them seem very interested in making sure she doesn't get the answers she's looking for. The Academy was supposed to be about earning her place in the world. Turns out it might be about remembering who she used to be.

I went home for the holiday season. However, the most annoying person in the family, Karen, had shown up with her brat of a son, Toby. Karen was the wife of my father's younger brother. Every limited-edition figure and model kit in my display case had been used as toys, taken apart, and smashed to pieces. I was so angry I almost blacked out from my blood pressure rising. Karen cut me off first. "Oh, our VIP is finally awake? He's just a kid, and he does not know any better. Speaking of which, Toby is turning eight next year. Now that you're rich, you should at least give him a big present, right? Eight thousand dollars has a nice ring to it." My parents had a dark look on their faces as I forced my anger down. "Sure, Karen. That amount is nothing, but we need to be proper with the timing, right? I promise I'll give him a big one on the actual New Year's Day!" Then I took out my phone and saved the invoices for everything he had destroyed so I could print them out later. You wanted a big present, right? Fine. I would make it a big one!

"You used to call me a dog, little prince." "Now get on your knees and beg for your leash." Ten years after destroying the scholarship boy who secretly worshipped him, Kai Sterling has lost everything. Once the cruel golden prince of high society, he sells his body in a depraved underground auction to save his crumbling empire and free his brother from prison. The highest bidder is Silas Vane, the man Kai once broke. Now a ruthless billionaire with ice in his veins and vengeance in his blood, Silas buys Kai for ninety days of total ownership. No escape. No mercy. Just a tracking collar, absolute obedience, and nights that leave Kai screaming, shaking, and craving the very man he once humiliated. As Silas slowly unravels the fallen prince with vicious pleasure and mirrored torment, old wounds bleed into raw obsession. Hate twists into addiction. Pride shatters into desperate begging. And in the end, the little prince must choose: walk away rich and free, or willingly wear the collar of the only man who ever truly owned his soul. In a world of dark power and twisted love, some leashes feel like home.