Black Cake

I’m about to enter a blood bond with another vampire lord. But my partner of a century, Kaelan, has no idea. He’s too busy getting cozy with his new human assistant, Sylvia. They spend entire nights in his office, under the guise of “researching synthetic blood.” He even turned our centennial anniversary into her birthday party. In front of everyone, Kaelan presented her with a Black Forest cake decorated with Silver Bells. They laughed, smearing frosting on each other. They forgot the flowers are a deadly poison to me. My power shattered. Agony ripped through me as shadows lashed out, uncontrollable. My family’s guards had to drag my convulsing body away. And while I recovered alone in the cold, dark vault, Kaelan was still at the party, bathing in the cheers for him and Sylvia. The blood in my veins turned to ice. A century of love and hope burned to ash. In that moment, I agreed to my family's arrangement. Without hesitation. A union with the lord of the Obsidian Throne—a vampire they say is power incarnate.

Being a chosen mate of Vincent Northgrey, the sole heir to the Winterhide Pack, meant that Iona had to leave her hometown--the Black Manes Pack. All preparations for Iona and Vincent's mating ceremony were complete. They only have to wait for Vincent to return from the hunt. However, besides bringing the catch, Vincent returned with a girl who was his fated mate. The day before her mating ceremony, Iona lost everything. So why is she now trapped in a mating cabin with a man she didn't know?

When love is repaid with humiliation, pain turns into strength. Aruna came carrying medicine and a slice of birthday cake for the man she loved—Revan. But when she arrived at his house, what she found was not the warm smile she had longed for, but a sight that shattered her heart: Revan kneeling down, proposing to another woman in front of everyone. The medicine she had bought with her hard-earned money was thrown away. The cake she had made with love was crushed underfoot without mercy. And Aruna… was left behind without an explanation—only pain and a pride torn to pieces. On her way home, an accident took not only her strength but also the life of the unborn child she carried within her.

During a charity gala, my boyfriend bids on a pair of matching watches but gives one of them to his true love. The media excitedly capture the scene and ask, "You bought a million-dollar watch without even batting an eye, Mr. Loewe. You've been single all these years—is it time for you to make an official announcement on your relationship status?" Everyone off stage applauds him, and I join them. I give him my blessings for his so-called announcement. To make it up to me, he attends my birthday celebration. Yet he pushes me into the cake to make his true love happy. Unbeknownst to him, there's a steel rack in the cake to keep it steady. I end up bloodied and on the brink of death.

On our third wedding anniversary, I received a cake from my husband. It had the names Clarisse Burke and Antonio Carey written on it, along with Happy Third Anniversary. But I felt like I'd been plunged into ice. That wasn't my name. Clarisse was his secretary. Sure enough, I saw my cake in Clarisse Burke's latest post, labeled Iva Grant and Antonio Carey. [Three years, and someone's already treating me like his wife.] Below, there was a comment. [Delete that post! The cakes got mixed up. Don't let Iva find out.] That was when I realized he had planned every romantic surprise in pairs. Holding my phone, I laughed at his pathetic attempt to cover it up. But I was done. I started planning my exit.

On my 16th birthday, I treat myself to the most delicious cake I can find. On that day, before I can even take a bite, my parents, who are always at odds with each other, sign their divorce papers right in front of me. So, on my wedding day, I tell my wife, Keira Jarrett, "If you ever want a divorce, just get me a birthday cake." She hugs me tightly and promises me."Don't worry. 'Birthday' won't even be a word in our home anymore." Seven years later, on Keira's birthday, her assistant, Jackson Price, throws her a surprise party. She slaps him across his handsome, gentle face and kicks him out of Jarrett Group. That day, I am convinced I have chosen the right woman for life. But three months later, on my birthday, I find out the supposedly fired Jackson has been promoted to Keira's personal secretary. He personally delivers a custom-made birthday cake to me. I call Keira to demand an explanation, but her voice on the other end is cold and distant. "Jack meant well. Don't be a spoilsport." I freeze for a moment, then hang up. It turns out my parents are right all along. The only way a birthday cake tastes right is when it's served with divorce papers.

"Stop," he said huskily. "Turn around." Something in his voice made her obey. His was a voice used to commanding, used to getting him his own way. Usually she hated being spoken to that way, but not tonight. Tonight she wanted to obey every command he gave to bring the evening to its logical, inevitable and very satisfying conclusion. She turned, slowly, giving him full view of her butt and the cotton thong slicing her cheeks in half. Aware of his black eyes on her, she did something she'd never done for any man. She swayed to a rhythm in her head. With her back facing him, Abbey ran her hands down her waist, round her gyrating hips and placed one on each cheek. She let them explore across her skin, enjoying the way she felt and knowing he wanted to do the same. She glanced over her shoulder, cheekily giving him a view of her breasts and behind at the same time. His face was distorted with desire as he stood, mesmerized. She turned to face him fully. "I want you," he whispered. ………………………………………………. A cheating husband. A hidden camera. A desperate woman in too little clothing. Abbey thinks she’s prepared to seduce Damien Vane for a paycheck—until his hands, his voice, and his body turn the assignment into something wickedly irresistible. One night was supposed to fix her life… not set it on fire.

I was in a car accident while saving my brothers. However, instead of gratitude, they urged the doctors to amputate my legs. "Carol, we're sorry," they said through tears. "We're useless… but don't worry. Even if we have to sell our blood or our kidneys, we'll make sure you're taken care of." Right after surgery, they abandoned me in a shabby apartment. Blood seeped through the sheets as they looked at me with teary eyes—then left in a hurry, claiming they needed to earn money for my treatment. I did not want to drag them down anymore. Enduring the pain, I crawled to the rooftop of a tall building, planning to end my life. That's when I saw it—inside a luxury hotel, a grand celebration was taking place. My brothers were there doting on another girl. She was eating an extravagant cake I had never even dreamed of, wearing a designer princess gown worth a fortune, sparkling with jewels. Everyone called her the Smith family's one and only princess. They had even hired a world-class symphony orchestra to play Happy Birthday just for her. While I lay bleeding in a dingy apartment, they would not spend a few dollars on bandages for me. I watched as my eldest brother gently fed her cake, his eyes full of tenderness. "Jasmine, only you deserve to be our one and only little sister." The second brother placed a tiara on her head with care. "Even for the smallest birthday, we won't let you suffer a single moment of disappointment." The third knelt to help her into a pair of crystal shoes. "Jasmine, you're our most precious darling." Then, standing on the stage, Jasmine held up the black credit card they had gifted her and smiled sweetly. "Brothers," she said, "Carol lost her legs saving you. Maybe you should go see how she's doing?" My eldest brother let out a mocking laugh. "She's not worth it. Now that she's crippled, she'll never be able to compete with you again. She got what she deserved."

The famous Alpha Harold raided the Silver Moon Pack and killed everyone except Aiden. Whose parents, the alpha and Luna of the pack, hid in a small compartment under their dining room table. Aiden was only ten years old back then. He trained all his life to get his revenge on alpha Harold and his pack. Was being mated to his daughter going to change his mind about revenge?

Deck the halls with daddy issues and scream "yes, Santa" until the neighbors complain. She sold herself to save her mother. He bought her to settle a score. Neither expected twelve days of captivity to feel like coming home. Ten years ago, Evangeline Rose fled Willow Creek and the cruel boy who made her life hell. Now she’s back with a new name, a new body, and one desperate choice: enter the town’s secret Christmas auction where wealthy men bid on willing women. When the hammer falls at five hundred thousand dollars, Eva expects a stranger. Instead, she gets Grayson Holt—her former tormentor, now a devastatingly dangerous man in a half-open Santa jacket who just bought twelve uninterrupted nights with the virgin he once swore no one would ever want. She should be terrified. He's the reason she hid in bathroom stalls and cried herself to sleep. But the first time he kisses her, his hands shake. The first time she fights back, he groans her name like a prayer. And somewhere between the firelight and the snow and the silk ribbons around her wrists, they both realize the ugly truth: He didn't buy her to break her. He bought her because he's been broken without her. The boy who spray-painted "fat ugly bitch" on her locker is the same man who falls to his knees in the snow on the last morning and begs her not to leave. The girl who swore she'd never forgive him is the same woman who has to choose: walk away free, or stay with the monster who finally admitted he's been in love with her since the day he made her cry. Eva spent a decade learning to hate Grayson Holt. Turns out she's been loving him the whole damn time.