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For ten years, I bled for my fated mate, Damian. I forged him into an Alpha. I built his pack from nothing. But on the eve of our Blood Moon ceremony, he chose her. He made his first love, Isla—the one who abandoned him—the High Priestess. Not me. He thought I was just some rogue with a knack for magic. He thought he could drain my power, cast me aside, and claim Isla as his true mate. But he forgot who I am. I brokered the treaties. I negotiated the trades. I built the wards that kept them all alive. He and his pack hailed Isla as their savior. They groveled at her feet. They tried to get rid of me. Their plan? Force me to escort a demon to the Abyss of Exile. But he never knew my secret. I'm no rogue. I am the youngest daughter of the Alpha King. I am royalty. So I gave them what they wanted. I walked away. They only started to panic when my wards shattered and their lands were overrun.

Our wedding anniversary also happens to be our son's birthday. A month in advance, I carefully plan a family trip for the three of us—me, my husband, and our son. But right before we're supposed to leave, both of them suddenly disappear on me. I'm left standing alone in the pouring rain, dialing their numbers. On the other end, my son's young voice comes through, sounding cold and impatient. "Dad's having dinner with Ms. Moore. We don't want to go anymore." The call ends, and I'm blocked. Later that night, they intentionally lock me out of the house. I'm left standing in the freezing cold all night long. Soaked from the rain, I come down with a high fever and develop pneumonia. Meanwhile, my husband and son are off vacationing with Sophia Moore, smiling for a happy family photo with just the three of them. And in that moment, I know this marriage has truly come to an end.

He is my only chance at freedom. She is the daughter of my enemy. Will their love survive? Zain As the Sultan of one of the most powerful countries in the Middle-East, I need to find my Sultana. But I don’t intend to have heirs or even get married. Until I stumbled into Nasrin Elbaz. I cannot resist her. So I will claim her as mine. My Sultana. My Wife. My Lover. I, Sultan Zain Al Latif, will propose to Princess Nasrin for a marriage. If she rejects me… Well, I have been told I can be quite persuasive and demanding when I want to be. Nasrin He is a Sultan and I am the Princess of the country he is nemesis with. I don’t belong in his wealthy country that bleeds gold and his Palace. I am trying to hold on to what little freedom I have. No way can I fall for some dirty talking or his obsidian eyes curling with hunger whenever he sees me. Even if my body craves his tender touch and his sinful mouth. I have to get my freedom and find a way to escape the proposals of marriage. Without his help, thank you very much. “I am asking you to marry me.” “Are you asking or ordering, Sultan?” “I am asking, Princess.” I smiled at her. “For now.”

Sebastian Pena hates me for a whole decade after his true love's death. I try to please him at every turn, but he merely scoffs. "If you really want to make me happy, you should go to hell." That hits hard. However, when a truck hurtles toward me, Sebastian throws himself at me. He saves me, but he dies in a pool of his blood. Before he breathes his last breath, he looks into my eyes and says, "If only… I'd never met you…" His mother is devastated at his funeral. "I should've given Sebastian and Gillian my blessings. I should never have forced him to marry you!" His father resents me. "Sebastian saved you three times—he was a good person. Why weren't you the one who died?" Everyone regrets having Sebastian marry me, myself included. I'm kicked out of the funeral. Three years later, someone invents a time machine, and I travel back in time. This time, I'm going to sever all ties with Sebastian. Everyone will get the happiness they deserve.

He was supposed to heal quietly… not fall for his savior. After barely surviving a bullet to the chest and the betrayal of the only person he thought loved him, Jeremiah wanted nothing more than to disappear and mend in silence and forget. But then Everett Blackthorne shows up. Sharp-eyed, too intense… and too interested. Unsettling Jeremiah in all the wrong ways and making him feel things he doesn’t understand and is too afraid to admit. When dark secrets start surfacing, their connection becomes dangerous, not just for their hearts, but for their lives. Jeremiah has already survived hell once. But this time, it’s not just his past chasing him. It’s something older. Something darker. And it won’t stop until it drags him back.

Della's dad was her best friend and her hero, until she decides to marry a man that does not meet his family standards in any way. With his marriage, career, and side hustle all being threatened at the same time, he makes a desperate attempt to "fix" the situation and he winds up opening a magical can of worms, that leads to secrets being revealed, and all kinds of magical mischief, and even a little naughty fun.

My sister-in-law is eight months pregnant. One day, she gets pushed to the ground and starts bleeding heavily. She's then taken to the hospital right away. As I drive by, I quickly roll up the window and pretend not to notice. I step on the accelerator and speed away. In my past life, though, things were different. The moment I saw her collapse, I sprang into action and took her to the hospital without delay. She was in critical condition. After the heavy bleeding, she developed amniotic fluid embolism. My husband was the city's top obstetrician. Thus, I called him urgently, pleading for him to come straight to the hospital. However, he accused me of jealousy. He was having dinner with his first love's family, after all. He claimed that I was exploiting my sister-in-law's accident to force him to come back. By the time my in-laws arrived, my sister-in-law had already succumbed to the amniotic fluid embolism. Her family blamed me for her death, convinced I had stirred trouble with my husband and brought about her demise. Having just returned from out of town, my brother-in-law believed their accusations without question. Overcome with grief, he stabbed me to death at the funeral. Opening my eyes again, I realize I've been transported back to the very day my sister-in-law is knocked down.

I ordered an incubus online, but when the package arrived, there were two of them. One was gentle and obedient, the other was hot-tempered and unpredictable. I immediately messaged customer service to ask if they'd sent the wrong one—I had only ordered the gentle kind. The reply came cheerfully. "Congratulations, you've unlocked the hidden variant! This model is a bit special—buy one, get one free!" Wait… what? I remembered hearing people say that raising an incubus is like raising a puppy, only better—they keep you warm at night and don't shed. Well, if that's true, whether I had one or two made no difference. So I ended up paying the price of one and getting two—what a steal! Or so I thought… until I went to feed them. That's when I realized I was the cookie in the middle of a sandwich. Apparently, "keeping me warm at night" was a strenuous activity.

He was, and had nothing when I met him. He was a terribly poor dreamer, and all he had was smooth words and endless promises. I gave up everything for him, including my family’s wealth, my privileged life, my identity as an heiress. I hid who I really was just to help him climb the ladder, brick by brick, until his name shone like gold. Our empire was built on my sacrifices. And how did he repay me? By throwing me away like a piece of used, wet tissue. By parading his new fiancée in my face and sneering, “Don’t you think I’m out of your league now?” He thought he could erase me. He thought he could take my love, my labor, my loyalty…and bury me like garbage. But he forgot one thing. I’m not just a girl he used. I’m an heiress. The gold in his pocket? The power in his hands? The empire on his shoulders? All of it came from me. Now I’ve returned to the world I left behind, with bodyguards at my side, a new fiancé chosen by my family, and more power than he could ever dream of. And when he calls me a gold digger? I’ll smile and remind him of the truth… “Gold digger? No. I’m the gold maker. And without me, Mr. Billionaire, you are nothing.”

In my tenth year of marriage, my old childhood friend, Joshua Sears, posts a photo on social media. Both Joshua and my wife, Sabrina Lawson, are hugging his son, Andy Sears, and my daughter, Tiana Jenkins, in it. The four of them look very close to each other. The caption accompanying the post says, "Blessed to have the perfect son and daughter." I leave a comment below the post, saying, "Looking good together." A few seconds later, the post is deleted. The next morning, Sabrina rushes home and yells at me. "Ashton Jenkins! Joshua was finally feeling better for once. Why did you have to trigger him again?" Tiana shoves me hard and snaps in an accusatory tone, "It's all your fault that Andy's crying now!" I take out a copy of the divorce agreement and slam it down before them. "Yes, it's all my fault. That's why I'm stepping out of the picture now. Then, the four of you can form the wholesome family you've always wanted."