Romans Dark Romance Werewolf & Histoires Omega Gay for you

Meet Kaya Simeon. A young omega who has a nasty habit of going out into the woods alone at night. On one night Kaya goes into the woods alone again and accidentally stumbles upon an alpha, going into rut…

Adrian woke to warmth, too much warmth. His heart nearly stopped when he realized his head was resting against Kaelen’s chest, their legs tangled beneath the sheets. Panic surged. He shoved himself upright, only to freeze when he saw it, thin, glowing red threads coiling around his wrist, binding him to Kaelen. His blood ran cold. “What the hell…?” Adrian whispered, staring at the unmistakable bond mark. Kaelen stirred, blinking awake. For a moment, confusion flickered in his eyes, then shock. He tugged the sheet up to cover himself, gaze darting between Adrian and the red mark linking them. “What did you do? Adrian hissed, his voice breaking. You’re my sister’s fiancé! You’re supposed to be her mate, not...” He trembled as he scrambled for his clothes. Kaelen sat up, still staring at the line as though it mocked him. “I… I don’t know. But this—this isn’t a mistake. Adrian, you’re my mate.” “No!. Adrian’s hands shook as he pulled his shirt over his head. Whatever happened last night...forget it. This is wrong. You hear me? It never happened. Don’t you dare breathe a word of this to anyone.” Kaelen’s voice softened, almost pleading. “Adrian…” But Adrian couldn’t bear to listen. His chest ached as he turned away, slamming the door behind him, leaving Kaelen staring at the red bond that refused to fade. Two souls tied together by fate. One forbidden connection that could destroy them both.

Anselm Tarrow has spent twelve years drinking poison to stay alive. A male Omega in a kingdom that believes his kind is extinct, he hides what he is behind bitter tea and a lowered gaze. If anyone finds out, he’ll be killed or used. Then the pack Alpha who has made his life miserable names him as the sacrifice to end the Hollowing, the curse that has been killing the royal line for sixty years. Ansel’s tea runs out on the road north. His heat breaks in a blizzard. By the time he’s dragged before the Lycan King, there’s no hiding left. “Please. Just kill me. I’m a freak who could get pregnant. I’d stain your bloodline.” King Ulrich Daghan has buried two consorts and a child. He has stopped believing in hope. But when the scent of Ansel’s heat reaches him, a silver thread snaps tight between their chests, and the King says what nobody in the Cold Court expected: “He is not a sacrifice. He is mine.” Ulrich could take what the bond offers. Instead he guards the door all night and asks one quiet question: Why were you hiding? Because the only one who can break the curse is a Moonbearer willing to bear a Daghan heir, and the man who profits from the curse is already sharpening his knives. He expected death. He got a crown, a curse, and a mate who won’t let go.