Alternate Universe

Khalid Adio: I tried to do what was right. I wanted to protect my family. Even my mother. My misguided need to save both my mother and sister ended in death. Now I'm on the run from the Bloodmoon Pack and my guild. I still want to protect my sister, but I've had to look elsewhere without my usual resources.  Daniela Chávez: A hunter is the last person I expected to find myself indebted to. This one is different, though, or so he wants me to think. I don't believe it. But a debt is a debt, and I pay my debts. Now I'm dealing with hunters and werewolves for this fool.  This is the fourth book in the Bloodmoon Pack Series. You can read this as a standalone or in series order. Some events in this book happened in The Reluctant Alpha as they overlap. Bloodmoon Pack: Book 1 - Alpha Logan Book 2 - Beta's Surprise Mate Book 3 - The Reluctant Alpha Novella - The Hunted Hunter Book 4 - The Genius Delta

Happily mated and Luna of the Nightshade pack, Elara Gremond is living the life every other female wolf has ever dreamed of. Everything is going well for her until her pack is attacked and she is accused of aiding the rogues. Distraught, Elara tries to make her mate, Silas, see reason but he is blinded by the evidence before him and sentences her to be burned at the stake. Elara believes that was her end but fate seems to have other plans for her as she is reborn as Scarlett, a lone wolf. Triggered by the memories of her past life, Scarlett returns to the Nightshade pack to find out those who had framed her and get revenge on them and her former mate Silas. Silas, however, finds that the new pack member reminds him of his dead mate and he can't help but feel attracted to her despite all his attempts. What happens when there are more forces at play than Silas and Scarlett could have ever imagined? Will Scarlett let go of her hatred for Silas and build a new life with him or would she let rage and revenge destroy her? Join them as they unravel the web of lies, deceit, and love.

By the time Nolan is five, I finally see the truth clearly. My husband, Justin Ford, does not love our son or me. Determined to end this disastrous marriage, I decide to leave with Nolan. But fate has other plans. A car accident leaves me with a lost kidney and Nolan missing an eye. In our darkest hour, the cold, indifferent Justin kneels in public, begging for forgiveness, promising to be a lifelong support for both our son and me. Nolan and I decide to give him a trial period of 100 days. If he passes, we will stay. On the 99th day, we stumble upon him speaking with the attending doctor. "Mr. Ford, you caused the accident on purpose to save Ms. Lloyd's child while taking organs from Mrs. Ford and Nolan. Was it really worth all that?" "It's worth it. I'll do whatever makes Suzanne happy." "What if Mrs. Ford and Mr. Nolan find out?" Justin falls silent for a moment, then instinctively touches his wedding ring. "They must never find out. All they want is a family, and I'll do everything I can to make it right," he says coldly. It turns out his entire act of repentance was nothing more than a carefully orchestrated lie. The happiness Nolan and I believed in was merely an illusion, designed to protect the one he truly cared for. Every gift came with a secret cost, and now, we are paying the price.

After being forced to give my wife's first love my heart, I died in the hallway of the private hospital she had personally founded. My six-year-old son, Ash, had already begged her thrice by the time I had drawn my last breath. The first time was when he tugged on her hand, saying I was coughing up blood. Sneering, she claimed, "So he's finally learned something—teaching his kid how to lie." Then, she had the bodyguards throw him out of the room. The second time was when he clung to her sleeve, insisting that I rambled nonsense due to the pain. "It's just a heart transplant," she opined with a frown. "The doctor already said he won't die." At that, the bodyguards stepped in again and dragged him away. The third time was when he fell to the ground, clutching her pant leg with all his strength, crying that I had already passed out. She finally lost her temper by this point, grabbing Ash by the throat and hurling him out of the room. "I have already said it—Howard isn't going to die. Dare to disturb Skye's rest again, and I'll throw both of you out of this hospital," she warned. To save me, my son pawned the most precious thing he owned—his St. Christopher medal—to a nurse. "Ma'am," he said. "I don't need to live a long life. I just want my dad to live." She accepted the medal and was about to arrange for me to be transferred to the last available room. However, my wife's first love, Skye Whitley, had someone block the doorway with his pet dog. He mentioned, "Sorry, kid. Your mom's worried I'll get bored if I can't see my dog. This room is reserved for him."

On the fourth day after my son's death, I decided to secretly dissolve my military marriage with my husband. Before that, I had three days to settle everything for my son. On the first day, I tricked my husband into signing the cremation papers. On the second day, I went to the school and collected the textbooks my son would never get to use. On the third day, I cooked a table full of dishes and begged my husband to celebrate our son's last birthday. He agreed, but soon after claimed he had a mission. Instead, he spent the entire night setting off fireworks with his childhood sweetheart. That night, I cooked. Then, I sat alone before my son's photo and ate all my son's favorite foods. The next day, my husband returned, guilt flickering in his eyes as he handed me a brand-new backpack. He said it was a gift for our child's first day of school. But he didn't know—our child would never have a first day of school.

On the very night Finn Chapman's first love got divorced, he threw the ninety-ninth divorce agreement at me. "Lisa's heart is broken. She can't move on. I have to take care of her," he said. Even our seven-year-old son tried to persuade me. "You should just agree to the divorce and leave," he told me. "Let Lisa move in. We don't need a maid like you anymore." Both father and son were certain I'd scream, cry, beg them not to throw me out. But I didn't. I simply nodded, quietly signed my name on the divorce papers, and left. Ten years later, my son became the top scorer on the SATs. During an interview, a reporter asked him, "What has motivated you to study so hard all these years?" He went silent for a moment. Then, in front of everyone, his eyes turned red. "Because I wanted to tell my mom," he said, voice trembling, "I've grown up now. Will you come back? Please don't leave me again."

Rivergate's most elite social circle had always shared an unspoken rule. Men were free to play the field as they pleased, drifting from one woman to the next. Women, on the other hand, were only allowed a single, discreet indulgence on the day they came of age—a privately hired "life assistant" meant to take care of their physical needs. … On my coming-of-age day, I picked Elliot at first glance from a hundred applicants who came in for interviews. He wore gold-rimmed glasses, looked composed and restrained, and carried himself with a calm maturity that set him apart. He was steady, meticulous, and obsessively clean. The only condition he agreed to was that there would be no bodily contact—hands only. And after every encounter, he would scrub his hands with disinfectant alcohol a hundred times. Over five years, the empty bottles alone were enough to circle the villa seven times. I used to think that one day, I'd help him overcome his barriers and truly make him mine. That illusion shattered the night I got drunk and accidentally wandered into Elliot's room. Hidden beneath his pillow was a DV camera, and inside were several videos of him pleasuring himself. On the screen, the same man who had always been calm and rational with me was staring at the lingerie of the adopted sister who had caused my mother's death, his Adam's apple bobbing as he moaned her name, "Chloe… I love you…" Only then did I realize that every step he had taken toward me had never been about me at all. It had always been a carefully concealed, long-nurtured love for her. So, it was very odd that he cried when I took my adopted sister's place in marrying someone else.

Argent is a seasoned assassin, trying to bring down an underground slave auction when he sees her. Penelope had moved to Brazil in hopes of starting over again after the death of her beloved uncle. With her best friend in tow, she is ready for a new adventure. Unfortunately, adventure comes in the form of a kidnapping, and a possible life as a slave. Hope is almost lost until she meets Argent's beautiful golden eyes across the auctioneer's platform. Neither expected to find love or to be caught in a web of lies that nearly keeps them apart. But there are no regrets when destiny is involved.

Scott had always hated humans ever since the begining of his existence. He believed that they were only good for one thing... As food bags. Alijah was the average human girl who loved her lonely life and prefered peace to every other thing. Her life turned around when she became involved with Scott, a man who seemed to hate her gut for no reason. Some harsh truth became open and Scott was left with no choice than to either become a forced bodyguard or let the entire vampire race be vanquished.

It started as a story. Just words. A fantasy, Elara wrote at night. A man she designed to be everything she craved for but never had. Marek! Obsessive. Possessive. Deadly loyal. Unapologetically hers. She never expected the knocks on her door when no one was there. The whisper of her name in an empty room. Or the scent of him. The one she only ever described in ink, lingering in her pillow. She thought she was losing her mind. Until the bruises appeared. Until her friends started disappearing. Until Marek stepped out of her pages… And smiled. Now Elara has to ask herself the one question that could shatter everything: Did she write him into existence…..or did he lure her into his?