Arti Irt

Betrayed by her own step mother and stepsister, she was left to die—her body dumped into the cold sea. Everyone thought she was gone forever. But she survived. Now, she’s back with a new name, a new face, and a heart hardened by pain. She’s not here for love. She’s here for revenge.

Cassiopeia the future Luna who can't shift has been neglected by her pack because of her scarred face, the small amount of respect she gains is just because she's the daughter of Alpha Magnus, the current Alpha of the Silver Moon pack. When Alpha Magnus died, everyone turned their backs and betrayed her, including Baron, who was supposed to be her mate and became the new Alpha rejected her in front of the pack, they believed she is a cursed Luna, who brings misfortune like what happened to Alpha Magnus, written on her scarred face. And Calypso, her best friend replaced her as the new Luna. But beyond the Silver Moon packs’ knowledge, Baron and Calypso planned everything from the moment Alpha Magnus died, and to the assassination of Cassiopeia. Yet the God of the moon and the prophecy has other plans for Cassiopeia, and now she's rebirth as the most beautiful she-wolf alpha, ready for her revenge and a responsibility enticed in her second chance to change fate. Along with her errand, she’ll cross the path with Ezra a human with a huge grudge toward werewolves, and Killian, the Alpha of the Black Moon Pack —the strongest enemy of the Silver Moon pack who was both on a mission, unexpected intimacy will sprout among the three. Secrets will unfold. Is there a chance that Cassiopeia will fall in love with Ezra when Killian shows signs as her true mate? When the future of the augury is foreseen, which unconditional love will continue to bloom? Will they allow the prophecy to decide their harshly bitter fate?

“Fuck me harder, baby—drill my tight little hole!” she gasped, nails clawing down his shoulders. Kai growled low, hips snapping brutally, his thick cock stretching her wide with every punishing thrust. “Take it all, you dirty girl—feel me pounding your wet cunt till you scream,” he rasped, his hand gripping her throat just enough to make her eyes roll back. #SteamyRomance, #Erotica, #ForbiddenLove, #HateToLove, #OfficeRomance, #Spicy, #Adult, #DirtySeries, #Billionaire, #ExesReunion, #OneNightStand, #EnemiesToLovers

My crippled sister, Monica Porter, jumped from the roof of the classroom building. The day before she died, she had just been fitted with the custom prosthetic legs I had paid for with ten years of savings. She was glowing, excited to finally stand up on her own. But my wife's best friend, a guy she said was just like a brother to her, locked Monica inside an empty art room. He smashed her new legs, forced her to crawl on the floor and lick paint clean to retrieve the broken parts, and recorded everything on video. And my wife, a judge, ultimately ruled that the case could not stand. "The video cannot confirm the time it was recorded and may represent consensual performance art between both parties," she said. Sandra Pauley's final judgment was simple. "The deceased had a history of depression. The school and the defendant bear no responsibility." I smiled and cooked her a full table of food. The next day, I hung the bully, Eric Hoyles, from the school's flagpole and livestreamed it to the entire internet. "Honey, remember how you said Monica had such pretty legs?" I raised a claw hammer and brought it down on his ankle. "If you don't hand over the video evidence right now, I'll hook out his Achilles tendon one strand at a time and let him learn what it feels like to crawl!" The wind passed through. His screaming broke apart in the air, mixing with the strained creaking of the flagpole until it sounded almost like music. The live chat went insane. Meanwhile, I laughed until my eyes filled with tears.

To celebrate our daughter's eighteenth birthday, my husband, James Miller, decided to go nude cycling. I told him he was too old for that and would embarrass himself, but he looked at me with disdain and said, "Liliana, your life is so boring. You refuse to embrace new things." Then he brought the dog belonging to his first love, Sophia Lewis, and placed it before me. It was then I realized it was Sophia who had organized the nude cycling event. I felt my anger boiling beneath the surface as our son, Thomas, took the leash and handed it to me. "Dad, you can go have fun with Sophia. Mom will take care of the dog," Thomas said. But when the dog lunged at me later, Thomas protected it. Meanwhile, my daughter, Alice, fought to shield me. In the end, both Alice and I were bitten to death. James didn't even take us to the hospital. Instead, he dragged our bodies straight to the crematorium. Just before I turned into a wisp of smoke, I saw Alice rolling in the flames. During that time, James and Thomas were comforting Sophia. At that moment, I felt a deep rage—rage at myself for being so naive and for causing my daughter's death. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day when my son handed me the leash. This time, I was determined to make them all pay.

After I was reborn, when Blake's childhood sweetheart Catherine cut a lock of my hair during a party dare — again — I didn't do what I did in my past life. I didn't shear off all her hair in front of everyone and turn her into a bald wolf. I didn't lose control and storm into the Council of Elders when Blake defended her, threatening to sever our mate bond. Instead, I calmly removed the Luna's crown from my head and placed it on Catherine's. "The crown's hers now. Have fun with her." I put on my coat and walked out of the estate without looking back. It wasn't that I wanted to bow to Catherine. But in my past life, after I severed the bond with Blake, things went horribly wrong. He threw me into a cell made of pure silver, like I was some irredeemable criminal, and left me there while the metal scorched my skin day and night. When I finally escaped, I was poisoned by a witch from a rival pack. Dying from the pain, I abandoned every shred of my dignity and crawled to the doors of the Temple of the Moon Goddess, begging him to let the witch give me the antidote. He was kissing Catherine. He didn't even tell his guards to let me in. I died from the poison — one day before my father, the Alpha King, came to find me. I refused to meet that fate again. So I was done with Blake.

#Second place Winner hopwriter short storystorm " Don't say anymore word than you already have, don't..." I stuck a finger out at him, sauntering away on my heels when a hand wrapped itself around my arm. Breathlessly he whispered, "You know that I do love you and...fine, what exactly was I supposed to do?" "Protect me and stand up for me. That is what you do for someone who you claim you love!" ************ Out to spite her ex-boyfriend after he had broken up with her on her birthday, Daphne slept with a stranger who turned out to be his uncle while trying to rebuff his words that she was unwanted by others. Was she ready for the wild chase that followed when he found out years later that she had been pregnant with his heirs and that she had been hiding the truth all this while? Faced with the ruthless CEO, known as the beast, who wasn't ready to back down, Daphne does everything possible to make sure her kids wouldn't be taken from her, but what happens when love gets in the mix of it all? Would she be able to conquer these weird feelings and give in her all amidst her scars? And with how deadly he turned out to be? And faced with her ex who still wants her back, what choice is she going to make?

Love For The Wicked Book Three. In my eyes, the world is a huge sandbox created for the big boys. Girls, money, business… and I always strive to come out on top until my father gave me an ultimatum. I needed to find a wife, or I’d lose my rights to the family business. I found the perfect woman for the scheme I devised, of course. She was beautiful, feisty, the picture-perfect wife to make my father believe I was done playing games. In return, she needed a favor, the kind that takes nine months to deliver. The rules were laid out meticulously, from the no touching to fake falling in love. After a year, we would part ways amicably with no hassle, no demands, and no regrets; after all, it was all just a game. As my plan took its course, it dawned on me that playing house was a game I never should have played. She started to grow on me, from that sexy little pout to the late nightcap, the endless dirty banter, and even the fights we had. I realize I enjoyed having her around. Trouble is, how will I make her believe I am not playing games anymore? That I don’t want her to be just my contract wife, that I don’t want twelve months with her but more?

– Sra. Sterling, a senhora tem certeza de que está pronta para encerrar este casamento de vinte anos e abrir mão da custódia? – Sim. Dê entrada. Acabou. – Respondi calmamente ao telefone enquanto esfregava uma mancha teimosa de gordura na ilha de granito. Durante vinte anos, eu dediquei tudo de mim a essa família. Administrei a casa, cuidei da educação das crianças e permaneci ao lado do meu marido, apoiando sua ascensão no sindicato sem jamais reclamar. Mas meu marido, Alexander, levou sua jovem irmã adotiva, Chloe, para a entrevista, dizendo: – O sucesso que tenho hoje é todo graças à minha irmã adotiva. Até meus próprios filhos passaram a me menosprezar, chamando-me de dona de casa comum e grosseira. Eles formaram uma aliança com a "tia" sempre presente – a mulher que achava ser a verdadeira senhora da casa. Assinei os papéis do divórcio e fui embora, deixando que eles se tornassem a "família perfeita" que tanto sonhavam. Mas foi então que a família entrou em pânico…

Some rules are meant to keep us pure. These stories spread your legs and make you beg to break them. Stepbrothers who shouldn’t touch you, but shove you against the wall and make you scream their name. Protectors who swear to guard your body, only to break every oath as they fuck you into the mattress. Strangers who taste like sin and don’t stop until you’re ruined. Masked lovers who hide their faces while they spread you open and make you beg. Even supernatural beasts who mark you, breed you, and take you raw until you’re theirs completely. This isn’t sweet romance. It is raw heat that claws, bites, and devours. Dangerous, possessive men you should run from, but instead, you’ll spread wider, sink deeper, and take every filthy drop they give you. Every page is a dare: moan louder, take more, surrender deeper. Because once you give in to the forbidden, you won’t just fall, you’ll beg to be destroyed. Welcome to your new addiction.