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Not your Luna

Not your Luna

After the death of the Alpha couple, Olivia had to face the ruthless truth about her upbringing. With nothing left to hold her down, she ran to escape the memories that weren't hers. But this time, she didn't run with nothing; she ran with his mark burning as deep as her soul. *** The crowd of wolves gasped in horror. Some screamed, and many women burst into tears while their Alpha licked the blood from Olivia's skin. Olivia shivered when his disgusting lips left her neck. Noah's hand ran through her hair, grabbing a fistful of her snow-white curls; he pulled her against his body and whispered, "Good luck avoiding me now, rogue." ***
Werewolf
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My Husband's Debt for His Principessa

My Husband's Debt for His Principessa

I fought with my husband, Alessio, the Don of the Moretti family, over the mistress who'd given him twin sons. The next day, he stormed into my bedroom and put a gun to my head. "Did you take my sons?! You vicious bitch!" While I was still in shock, he ordered his men to lock my eight-year-old daughter, Lucia, in the icehouse for three whole days of "training." He gave me an ultimatum: Lucia would stay there until I brought him his sons. Lucia froze to death in that icehouse. I returned with her death certificate in my hand, my heart a hollow stone in my chest, only to find him moving his mistress and their sons into the home we once shared. He was cheerful, dismissing the whole thing as a misunderstanding. He even had the audacity to tell me to go get Lucia to meet her "new little brothers." I just stared, tears tracking paths down my face, the life inside me extinguished. It wasn't until that thin piece of paper—the death certificate—fluttered to the floor that the color drained from Alessio's face. He finally realized Lucia was gone. Killed by his own blind, cruel pride.
Short Story · Mafia
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His Regret, My Throne

His Regret, My Throne

Right before our Mating Ceremony, my mate, Alpha Damien, told me he had to temporarily mark an Omega from our pack, Seraphina. He claimed she had the Moon Sickness and would die if he didn't mark her. I fought him on it, but the next day, he moved Seraphina right into the penthouse of the Pack House. The suite meant for the future Luna. My suite. To calm me, he even got on his knees, his eyes red as he promised, "Once she's safe, I'll remove the mark. You'll still be my only Luna." But then, Seraphina found me, a medical report in her hand. Six weeks pregnant. They'd already held their marking ceremony long before Damien ever came to me. My heart shattered into ash. My pen dug into the calendar, carving a vicious X over the date that was supposed to be our Mating Ceremony. Then, I opened my laptop and replied to the email from the European Laurel Healers' Guild. "I accept your invitation. I leave on the day of the Mating Ceremony."
Short Story · Werewolf
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Refuse To Be One of His Thirty Luna Candidates

Refuse To Be One of His Thirty Luna Candidates

I was Alpha Damon’s Head Beta. For six years, I had been his partner in bed and his second-in-command. When he announced our mating ceremony, the entire pack celebrated. My dream was finally within reach. But then, outside his private trophy room, I heard him bragging about his “Luna trials.” And just like that, I learned the truth. I wasn’t his one and only. I was one of thirty candidates. He’d spent a month with each of us, grading our bodies, our submission, our performance. My score? Lower than an Omega’s. Lower than Lydia’s. “Fucking Lydia was incredible,” he boasted. “I could barely pull myself away. Then I look at Elysia—so stiff, so in control—and I’m just… bored.” Ice flooded my veins. My body went numb. Six years of devotion. Countless nights tangled in his sheets. It all meant less than a cheap thrill and a wolf who knew how to kneel. My heartbreak hardened into ice. I sent a message to an Alpha who had wanted me long ago. “Adrian, you once said your offer to mate was a standing one. Does it still stand? Damon and I are over now.”
Short Story · Werewolf
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El Juguetito De Mi Esposo

El Juguetito De Mi Esposo

Mi mejor amiga, Maya, voló desde Miami para la semana de mi despedida de soltera. Eran mis últimos días de libertad. Insistió en organizar una noche de chicas para celebrar y pidió toda mi comida favorita a domicilio. Me pidió que le cuidara el celular y esperara un momento. Entonces, la pantalla se iluminó. Era un mensaje de un hombre. Una foto sin camisa. “Mi arma está lista para ti esta noche”. Llegó otra foto vibrando. Juguetes sexuales. Accesorios de bondage que parecían sacados de una película. Sentí que la cara me ardía. El corazón me latía descontrolado contra las costillas. Acababa de tropezarme con su vida secreta. Pero la siguiente imagen me cortó la respiración. Era un primer plano del pecho del hombre. Tenía una cicatriz que yo conocía mejor que mi reflejo. Era de mi prometido, Luciano Carbone.
Short Story · Mafia
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Still His Wife. Never Again His Fool

Still His Wife. Never Again His Fool

My blood ran cold. Not just because of the words, they’d done worse than the scheme. They mocked me. Rewrote my pain as a punchline. Danced on the grave of my dignity like it was confetti. I staggered back from the door, suddenly aware of how my hands were trembling. Of how my chest rose and fell like I was still being dragged underwater. I could still feel it, the betrayal. The nights I cried myself sick. The baby. The blood. The gaslighting. The cold stares. The silence. No, this wasn’t just a memory. It was a resurrection. I pressed my hand to my chest, grounding myself. This body? This moment? It was mine now. Not theirs. Not his. If this was a curse, I’d break it. If this was a second chance? I’d weaponize it. Let them laugh. Let them bask in their borrowed joy. Because from this moment on, I’m not playing the quiet, obedient pawn. I’m the storm they tried to silence. The reckoning wrapped in silk and scars. They don’t deserve peace. Not after what they did to me. I’ll make them feel it. The same agony, the same betrayal. No, worse. Double. And the Kensingtons? Oh, they won’t be spared either. Their blood's just as soaked in my suffering. I lived by their rules in my last life. In this one? They live by mine. And mercy? Yeah, I left that behind in the last timeline.
Romance
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Mr billionaire's regret: chasing after my ex-wife isn't easy

Mr billionaire's regret: chasing after my ex-wife isn't easy

“Nova please, I beg of you. I will do anything to gain your forgiveness”. Zephyr begged as he used his hands to brush his hair desperately. “Forgiveness?” Nova asked with widened eyes and a surprised smirk. You said you didn't want anything to do with me. “I.. I didn't know what I was saying, baby. I need you in my life”. He replied. “No.. Nova interrupted before he could even speak further. You have no fucking right to come back into my life”. Her voice raised and her face turned red as she gritted her teeth. “Go back to your mistress”. She directed angrily, and just so you know, I am with eryx now. She said with a satisfied tone. “WHAT!!” zephyr exclaimed. “You belong to me Nova and I will chase you to the end of the earth till you are mine again”. Zephyr’s voice cracked, his eyes glistening with something that wasn't just anger. On the day she divorced her husband due to his drastic change and betrayal. She found out she was pregnant but she couldn't tell her husband about it because he had moved on with someone else who he got pregnant. She moved to another city with the help of her husband's brother Eryx, who also helped her raise her son. Years later everything was going well as she was now a famous actress, until her little son brought his father home.
Romance
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Blood Illusion, the Heir That Never Was

Blood Illusion, the Heir That Never Was

I was reborn the year the Blood Moon War began. The first thing I did? I sacrificed my child. The child of my blood-bonded mate, Lord Lucius of the Covenant. In my last life, he chose to protect his childhood sweetheart, Lilith, when she slept with a werewolf. He stole my pureblood heir and replaced it with her half-breed mongrel. They branded me a traitor. In a sun-scorched dungeon, they burned my scarred body to ash with holy light. And my own son, his mind poisoned by Lilith, stood on my ashes and cursed me to Hell for all eternity. When I opened my eyes again, the blood ritual for my heir was already three months along. I didn't hesitate. I went straight to a witch, and with a potion brewed from my own heart's blood, I ended it. Then, I put on something else: an expensive amulet of Blood Illusion. It faked the energy of a pureblood fetus. It masked my true state, cloaking me in the sweet, alluring scent of a pregnant vampire. It even created a perfect illusion of a growing belly. Lucius needed an heir to cover for Lilith’s crime. Fine. I’d play along. This time, I had no weaknesses.
Short Story · Vampire
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La mascota rebelde del Don

La mascota rebelde del Don

Yo era una chica de los suburbios que se enamoró de Damon Vitale, el padrino más temido de Nueva York. Durante cinco años, fui suya. Recibí nueve balas por él. Él besaba mis cicatrices mientras yo me desangraba por su causa. Me estrechaba contra él. Abrochaba el collar de la reina alrededor de mi garganta. Luego, una vez que sanaba, me poseía sin sentido, con una pasión que se sentía eterna. Pensé que pasaríamos nuestras vidas juntos. Pensé que se casaría conmigo. Pero en nuestra noche número 999 juntos, me dijo que estaba comprometido. Con Bianca, una princesa de la mafia de una familia rival. Me tragué mis lágrimas. Él simplemente me tomó de la barbilla, me sopló el humo en la cara y se rió. —Realmente no pensaste que podrías casarte conmigo, ¿verdad, Nora? Seamos claros. Nosotros tenemos sexo. Eso es todo. No eres una socia. Eres una pieza de arte que colecciono. Una mascota de mi propiedad. Una mascota. Eso es todo lo que él siempre quiso que yo fuera. En lugar de eso, tomé un teléfono desechable. [Acepto su oferta. Tres días. Sáquenme de este maldito Nueva York.]
Short Story · Mafia
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They Exiled Me Now I’m Their Queen

They Exiled Me Now I’m Their Queen

My fated mate, Riven, was the Alpha of a pathetic pack on the brink of collapse. For five years, I was his shadow, his strategist. I built his pack from nothing until the Alliance finally recognized us, and we were set to move to the fertile lands. Riven promised we'd have our mating ceremony once we settled in the new territory. But at the celebration feast, the night before the move, he threw me in a cell. He publicly announced that Jenna—the she-wolf carrying his pup—would be the pack's Luna. I couldn't believe it. I screamed at him, but he just sneered and pointed to a crystal pulsing with dark magic. "Jenna already has proof of your betrayal! Sleeping with Alphas for their support. You make me sick!" I begged him. But he just sliced my cheek with the silver-edged rejection letter, formally casting me aside. But he didn't know who I really was. I am the Alpha King's daughter. The strategies, the power, the alliances—they weren't his. They were mine. So I took it all back.
Short Story · Werewolf
3.3K viewsCompleted
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