Cat Base

Joanne, an 18-year-old high school graduate suddenly woke up one day in an mysterious ancient rainforest. She was saved by a handsome military cadet named Leon who accusing her for trespassing a military exclusion zone. But somehow, she found his turquiose eyes familiar..... This is the Inter-Galaxy Era. She woke up on a strange planet where all men here are stupidly powerful but somehow keep calling themselves as different spieces even though they all look alike under Joanne's eyes. It's alright, self-expression is a basic human right. Joanne couldn't care less; until one day, Leon turns himself into a giant wolf..... O..Okay, no big deal either. Joanne convinces herself. Who cares if it's a dog or a cat or a wolf that saved her? The key point is her life is indeed saved. Then, Leon reveals his true identity as the second to the Throne, Duke of the Empire who is being targeted for assassin this whole time? This is NOT okay anymore! Joanne thought this might be the wrost situation, without knowing one day she will be forced into a marriage with the Heir Apparent, First to the Throne, the top Alpha of the Empire.

Mate. I froze mid-step, Venom has never said that word before. I've suddenly forgotten the Rogues I was chasing, my whole attention now on the emotions I was feeling. My vision sharpened, focusing on the faint sound of labored breathing just ahead. My heart hammered in my chest as I walked closer, the bond pulling me forward with an urgency I hadn’t felt in decades. The first thing I saw was her hair, a messy dark bun with strands of white, unusual yet unique. She sat curled up against the base of an old tree, arms wrapped tightly around her knees, shoulders trembling. Her thin, tattered sweater barely shielding her from the cold air. She looked... fragile, a word I never thought I’d associate with my mate. Ariel’s life has been anything but easy. Orphaned as a child and left in the care of a cruel stepfather and stepbrother, she’s endured years of emotional and physical abuse. Despite her circumstances, she’s always felt something stirring beneath the surface—an unexplained restlessness, vivid dreams of running under the moonlight, and a deep connection to the forest around her. Zayn, the alpha of the Shadowcrest pack, has spent years searching for his fated mate, the one who would complete him and stand by his side to no avail…he had finally given up on ever finding her. His pack thrives under his leadership, but his heart has grown weary, doubting the Moon Goddess’s promise of a mate. When a chance encounter leads him to Ariel, he’s stunned to discover that the fragile, broken girl is his destined partner—and more than that, she’s a wolf completely unaware of her true nature.

Elena had once believed that silence could mean safety. That a gentle hand and a warm cup of tea placed quietly on her desk every morning could be a form of love. Lucien was never cruel—not in the obvious ways. He remembered how she liked her eggs, noticed when she swapped her perfume, and sent flowers on days he knew she wouldn’t expect them. He raised her like one would raise a pet—softly, without question. And Elena, foolish in the way only the very lonely can be, mistook his quiet affection for devotion. She told herself he was reserved. Mysterious. That love didn’t always wear its heart on its sleeve. But when the old flame returned—the one who spoke his language without needing to try—Elena saw it. The difference. He looked at her like a man who had found his lost religion. And Elena? She had simply been convenient. No tears, no scene. Just papers on the breakfast table, beside the eggs he cooked perfectly. She didn’t accuse or beg. She only asked for freedom. He didn’t sign. He chuckled. A soft, dismissive sound. “A cat raised indoors doesn’t know how to survive on the street, Elena. You’ll come back." But she didn’t. She disappeared, like smoke—except she didn’t vanish, not really. She lived. She wore colour again. Laughed at bad jokes. Let strange men hand her coffee and ask for her number. Lucien? He watched. He watched her become someone without him. And it drove him mad. The night he cornered her outside the gallery, rain in his hair and desperation in his eyes, he looked like a man undone. "Elena," he breathed, "please. Look at me. Just once." She did. Calm as ever, and her love already gone.

An aspiring journalist with a strong sense of justice. A reluctant mafia heir. And a mystery box that binds them. Twenty years ago, Nicolette Meyers witnessed the brutality of the Sticks mafia family. Twenty years later, she made it her mission to bring them down using her pen name ‘Nico Sticks’. Unfortunately, her editor stole her idea and took all the benefits before firing her. And her only consolation was a mystery box from a fan. When a blind, homeless man offered her bank cards in exchange of being her tenant, she accepted the offer not realizing he is the real ‘Nico Sticks’ – the newly-crowned heir of the Sticks family. Steffan Miller was a loyal foot soldier for the mafia until he was appointed to become the head. When his box was stolen and was sent to Nicolette, he pretended to be homeless to search for it. When the police force learned the name of the new mafia leader, it became a cat and mouse chase between them and the police force with Nicolette becoming the perfect patsy for Steffan’s operations. When strong attraction and forbidden emotions got mixed in the mission, does betrayal taste sweeter when it comes from the man you love?

Chloé Janin, harcelée par un homme pervers, est entrée à l'hôpital dans un état lamentable. Pendant qu'elle était assise dans le couloir en attendant son tour, elle a vu Daniel Favreau qui serrait dans ses bras une jeune fille délicate, en lui parlant doucement. En regardant cet homme qu'elle aimait depuis sa jeunesse, elle sentait que sa voix est devenue rauque. « Je t'ai envoyé un message, tu ne l'as pas vu ? » « C'était l'anniversaire d'Adeline, je ne pouvais pas gâcher sa fête, et puis, qui savait si tu avais vraiment rencontré un pervers ? » Il a froncé ses beaux sourcils, le dégoût débordant de ses yeux : « Alors, est-ce qu'il t'a souillée ? » Chloé s'est sentie plongée dans un gouffre glacial. Le lendemain, elle a présenté sa lettre de démission. Daniel s'en moquait. « Elle est plus obéissante qu'une chienne, je n'ai même pas besoin de l'appeler, elle reviendra d'elle-même implorer ma pitié. » Cependant, cette fois-ci, Chloé est partie définitivement. ... Six mois plus tard. À deux heures du matin, Daniel, assis dans sa voiture, a composé le numéro qu'il avait récité d'innombrables fois dans sa tête. Dès que l'appel a été connecté, il a dit d'une voix tendue : « Tu me manques. » De l'autre côté est venu un ricanement. « Monsieur Favreau, que signifie cette déclaration en pleine nuit au lieu de dormir ? » Daniel a crié d'une voix folle : « Où est Coco ? Passe-la-moi au téléphone ! » Pablo Tixier, regardant la femme aux yeux humides sous lui, a esquissé un sourire malicieux sur ses belles lèvres. « À cette heure-ci, nous sommes plutôt occupés, désolé. »