Novel & Cerita Buried To The Hilt

One night of reckless freedom. One stranger who vanished without a trace. One pregnancy that dragged Zelda into a world she never knew existed. Kidnapped and brought before a king she once shared a bed with, Zelda learns the truth: she carries the heir to the Black Ridge Pack, and she will never go home. Vance is powerful, cold, and already married — and somehow, he is her destined mate. Trapped in a world of wolves and ancient laws, Zelda must survive jealous queens, brutal secrets, and a love that kills her. But nothing could prepare her for what she truly is, and what she is capable of becoming.

Before the start of the marking ceremony, my mate's childhood sweetheart, Gracie Green, almost drowns in the swimming pool. Simon Lloyd is bent on thinking that I was the one who pushed Gracie into the pool with the intent to murder her. So, he has me tied up in the bathtub as a punishment. "One year ago, you pushed Gracie down the stairs and cost her her pup! Now, you even intend to drown her! Why are you such a vile and selfish she-wolf? "Anyway, the marking ceremony shall only be held once you've finally acknowledged your mistakes!" When I'm in the middle of getting corroded by silver nitrate, Simon is busy celebrating Gracie's birthday with her. When Gracie pretends to be all graci

I buried him myself. I stood at his grave with dirt on my hands and grief in my throat as I said goodbye to the only man I ever thought I would love. Kael was my betrothed, my mate, the boy who grew up beside me and became the person I built every future around. When the war took him it did not just take him — it took every version of myself that existed because of him. Years passed. The moon goddess, in her mercy, gave me something I never asked for — a second chance. Rowan was not supposed to happen. He was patient where I was resistant, steady where I was broken, and present in every way I had convinced myself no one would ever be again. I did not want to love him. And then I did no

Three years of my loyalty. My body. My silence. My whole heart wrapped up and placed in hands that never deserved it. And the night I found out I was carrying his child — I found him in our bed with my best friend instead. He didn't beg. Didn't explain. He looked me in the eye and said I was never his first choice. Then he filed the rejection papers before I could finish crying. So I left. I buried Cora — the weak, devoted, foolish Luna who loved a man who saw her as a placeholder. Five years later, I'm someone else entirely. Someone with a life he could never have imagined for me. Someone with a son whose silver eyes are the only beautiful thing that man ever gave me without meaning to.

Someone texted me halfway through the wedding. The message read, "I had sex with your husband. Doesn't matter if you don't believe it." The message hit me like a hammer, and I stood petrified. Then, the texter sent another message, "Second pocket on the inside of his coat. There's a used condom there from last night. Strawberry. We were setting up the room, and one thing led to another. "We did it everywhere. Balcony, kitchen, and even in your car. He's not allergic to women. He'd gladly sleep with someone before marriage. He lied to you." Everything began to spin. I walked ahead, but my movements felt stiff. I felt as if someone was yanking me forward. I approached the aloof, abstinent

My brother, Theo Sorento, died in a plane crash on his way back home just to celebrate my birthday. They never found his body—only wreckage. Ever since, my parents forced me to kneel in front of his grave every year on my birthday, demanding that I repent for surviving when he didn’t. Then came my eighteenth birthday. I realized someone was following me. Panicked, I sent a few messages asking for help. Just then, Mom called, not to check on me but to lash out. “I know exactly what you're doing. You’re just making up excuses so you don’t have to kneel in front of your brother’s grave! You’re a liar. Why wasn’t it you who died instead of him? You’re a walking curse!” Before my phone was s

Aster didn't know she was a werewolf until her first shift that rendered her confused and disoriented in the middle of a forest. Scared, she knows she must flea the area. Aster begins the journey to find her father after finding a note from her grandmother inside of her tarot deck. As fate would have it, she finds Gamma Ava along her escape to the west coast. Beta Reed finds Aster and immediately knows they’re fated to be together, but Ava's jealousy gets in the way. Beta Reed learns several secrets about Aster’s family that would ruin her. Will the family secret tear them apart?

"You're not Isabella. But you will be. Starting tonight." Elara has nothing. No family. No money. She grew up in foster care. She cleans toilets for a living. Until the night she scrubs the penthouse bathroom of Alexander Blackwood, a billionaire CEO. He walks in drunk, sees her face, sees the star-shaped birthmark behind her ear, and calls her Isabella. Isabella is his wife. She disappeared six months ago. She was declared dead. And she looks exactly like Elara. Now Elara is forced to wear a dead woman's clothes, sleep in her bed, and pretend to be someone she never met. The mansion is full of secrets. The housekeeper watches her every move. The charming brother offers help that

That winter, the Silver Moon Pack holds its annual ski hunt. An avalanche strikes without warning, and the three of us are trapped in a lift pod. There's only one thermal suit left. My mate, Ryan Mercer, gives the thermal suit to me. I survive, but his childhood sweetheart, Eve Hurst, is buried forever beneath the endless white of the mountain. No body is ever found. However, he gazes at me with devotion and says, "Celine Bartlett, you are the love of my life." I soak in those words, believing them. But I have no idea this is the beginning of my nightmare. For the next five years, he speaks to me only with cruelty. "You killed Eve. You're a murderer!" He locks me in the basement and wh

Ten years after my wealthy family took me back, I died in the rental house my billionaire parents had dumped me in. My son was three. Just to mess with me, the kidnapper gave me three chances to call for help. If even one person was willing to come see me, he'd spare my child. The first call was to my father, the man who'd spent fifteen years searching for me. He was busy directing the staff as they set up my adoptive sister's birthday party. When he picked up, he barked, "Estelle Emerson, seriously? Can you go one week without causing a scene? It's your sister's birthday. I'm busy. Don't kill the vibe." The second call was to my mother, the woman who brought me home and changed my na