Alastor Hazbin Hotel Face

Ava-Rose Redclaw is excited when she meets Alastor Drexel on her 19th birthday. He's handsome, powerful, and the Alpha of The Drexel Forest pack. Proud of the mate the Moon Goddess gifted her with, she wants to jump into her role as Luna only days after meeting. As soon as Ava-Rose touches the Drexel Forest pack's soil, her mate's true nature surfaces. He's a cruel tyrant, with a thirst for blood. Ava realizes that her mate has no love in his heart for her. Saddened by this fact, she turns to his younger brother, Beta Trenton Drexel and they begin a 10-year affair. He loves her dearly, but he loves his brother more, so much so, that he turns a blind eye to the abuse Ava-Rose endures by his brother's hand. Tired of the abuse and humiliation, Ava teams up with a White Witch she befriended who lives alone in the swamps. Winifred invites Ava to run away with her to a land far, far away, out of the reach of her mate. Ava sees this as the perfect opportunity, as she's been planning her escape for a while, knowing that the day is near when her secret will come out. On the day of the voyage, scores of she-wolves from near and far show up to journey with the Luna. They are tired of their abusive relationships as well. Days later and they arrive at Mount Hecate, a sacred place for white witches. Ava is content with getting revenge on the pack that tried to break her. Love is the furthest thing from her mind until she meets Typhon, a mysterious shifter that lives on the top of the mountain.

There are three types of apples that fell into this world. The one that hit my head was the forbidden one. ************ In which an English country girl goes from being a waitress, to being the wife of the richest billionaire in London. “It is simple, all you have to do is get my husband into a hotel room, and you’ll get a hundred thousand pounds” she said looking the innocent girl in the eye, their eyes met and the girl cowered as she looked at the woman, processing what she was saying and how much she was offering. “You want me to seduce your husband?” The girl asked looking at the woman who stood above her head, like a predator threatening her prey. “No, all I want you to do is get him into a hotel room, leave the rest on me” she said looking at the girl who was shocked, her heart racing as she thought of what that woman was asking her to do. “Why would you want a girl to get your husband into a hotel room? And more importantly, why me?” “I need to get a divorce, and you need to stay away from my son. See, it’s a win, win, darling”

The day we were meant to be mated, my Alpha, Ford, was ambushed. Silver bullets shredded his car, sending it plunging off a bridge and into the river below. He was pronounced dead. Drowned. I was left pregnant with his heir, shattered by the raw agony of our severed mate bond. Then Ford's twin, Aiden, returned from abroad with his mate, Kyra. His identical face and a scent so similar to my mate's nearly drove me mad. A desperate part of me swore Ford was still alive. I told myself it was just grief. A widow's delusion. Until I overheard a hushed conversation and the horrifying truth slammed into me: the man pretending to be Aiden was Ford. He had faked his death. He'd let his own brother die in his place, all for Kyra—the other woman carrying his child. The grief that had crippled me instantly morphed into a cold, sharp rage. Ford didn't just break our bond; he shattered it. And I would make him pay. I wiped my tears and sent a single message to my brother, Billy, the Alpha of the Winterstone Pack. "Brother, I need a plane crash. He loves faking his death? Fine. Let him feel what it's like to truly lose a mate." Only when the news of my "death" spread did Ford reclaim his name. He knelt for seven days and nights in the ashes of the home we once shared, consumed by a grief of his own making.

BOOK #6 - WRIGHT-PETROV SERIES After her father's death, Kamilla lost her association with her father's employer. The Petrov family. Everything else followed. People she considered friends, including her boyfriend, turned their backs on her. She was outcasted by the same people previously groveling to please her. Overnight, she becomes a nobody. An easy target for the hypocrites of society. Nonetheless, she endures. She is far stronger than anyone realizes. However, someone thought she needed protection. "Why are you doing this, Mr. Samuel Petrov? I do not need the frivolity of your world. And please do not give me that lame excuse about being my father's friend again," she shows her defiance by meeting his calm gaze with her sharp angry one. "Believe me, Kamilla, you will not want to hear my reasons." Samuel bore her with an ominous look, attempting to dismiss her. "What reasons, Mr. Petrov? Does it include watching me sleep in the middle of the night? Or your huge one down there having a hard-on whenever you see me in my flimsy nightgown?" with regained boldness, she sassed while pointing at the bump of his pants. Samuel raised a brow in response to her brazenness. "It's just the tip of the iceberg you are seeing, Kamilla. You do not want to know the rest of it," his voice turned icy cold as he gritted every word. "I'm no angel, Samuel Petrov. I can smell your desire since day one, baby" A suggestive sultry smile carves her lips. "Fuck you, Kamilla. Don't call me baby" she was no longer surprise when he swiftly pulled and pinned her on the couch. "It's dangerous" His ragged hot breath fanned her face, and a rock-hard thing was wedged between them.

The day my husband was away on a business trip, I received a notification for a hotel charge. As I watched the video on my phone of him kissing his secretary on their way to the room, I dialed his number. “Honey, you need to come home right away. Mom was in a serious car accident,” I said. Before I could finish, Xavier Smith cut me off. “It’s just a car accident. We’ll deal with it if she dies.” He hung up without a hint of concern and went back to his cozy time with his secretary in their hotel room. He was completely unaware that the woman in critical condition at the hospital wasn’t my mom. It was his.

As I washed my wife's underthings, I discovered semen stains. It had been over two months since I last did it with Winona Sundown. She always looked down on me for not lasting long and being as boring as a dead fish. I silently accepted her criticism and mockery. That was until I saw a stranger messaging Winona with a hotel room number. The hotel just so happened to be my workplace, Pinnacle Hotel. The room number was 8102. I camped by the room, waiting to catch my prey. However, the woman at the door was a young and sensual woman. Unbeknownst to me, I had fallen into Winona's trap long ago...

On Benedict Bradford’s birthday, he posted a link on social media with a taunting offer: [$1.99 buys you a prank—target: Sansa Stormcloud.] So when I arrived at his party, the guests drenched me in water, hurled glasses, smashed cake in my face, and shoved me down the stairs. Benedict sneered as he stood over me, arm slung around Lina Kipling. “You think you’re fit to marry into the Bradfords? Pathetic. “You’re not even in Lina’s league. You’re worth nothing more than a couple of dollars!” I picked myself up, dusted off my dress, and handed him an invitation. “You know, Benedict, the Bradfords have another heir. “And shortly afterwards, you’ll address me respectfully as your sister-in-law.”

I was New York’s golden girl, the perfect princess. But for three years, I loved a monster, Don Damien Costello. I finally got the courage to propose. And I found him kissing another woman, Sophia Marcelli, the princess of our rival family. "I'm bored with you, my perfect little doll. I need a real queen. Sophia is the only one fit to be by my side." All of New York was talking. Damien Costello had tossed me aside. So I moved on, Found another man. Left my old self behind. We kissed in a cramped elevator. I did something I'd never dared to do. I just never expected the doors to open. And there he was. My ex. Don Damien. His face was pure murder.

On the flight to Arlencia, a post popped up: [What's it like to have sex in a wedding dress?] The pic showed a girl yanking some guy's purple tie while he hiked up her gown. His face was blurred, but hers? Straight-up blissed out. Everyone in the comments was swooning over how in love they looked. I didn't swoon. I froze. Because that purple tie? I gave it to Zeke Santoro, my fiancé, a few days ago. And that wedding dress? The exact custom one he had made for me. There was only one. I kept zooming in, heart racing, until I spotted a family photo in the background. My hands were shaking when I called him. "I wanna see the dress," I said. He hesitated. "It's at the studio getting final touches. Not with me right now. I'll show it to you later." I just smiled and hung up. That was all I needed. Zeke cheated—and the girl? His stepsister, Jella. Total circus. I reopened the post and shot her a DM: [Your wedding dress is stunning. I have the same one.]

My newlywed husband wants to kill me. He's backing me to the balcony with a knife in his hand. The blade pierces my heart, and he shoves me off a 20-story building. At the same time, I see the tear streaks on his face. He says, "Long time no see, my perfect lover."