Don T Kill Me Novels & Stories

I see an anonymous poll online after Aidan Spencer returns to me and our family. "Does a man feel guiltier to his wife or mistress after cheating?" 99% of the voters chose "mistress". I turn to Aidan. "Do you agree with this?" He puts down his book, a hint of indescribable fatigue in his cool gaze. "I'm already back with you, Lily. What else do you want from me?"

My Mafia husband, Alessio, was sleeping with his stepsister, Sophia. In the car, the study, the bathroom, even on the dining table, they left evidence of their affair everywhere. "Sophia, don't worry. Once I solidify my position in the family, I'll give you everything." "Blair… she's just a tool to secure my position." In our eight years of marriage, he had whispered the sweetest words in the world to me. Now, his devotion was worthless. I didn't cry or cause a scene. Instead, I made a deal on the black market. In two weeks, Blair Greco would disappear from this world for good.

When Adrian and I broke up, he knelt outside my door all night. When I finally agreed to get back together, he lit a bonfire in the main hall, invited the elders to witness it, and swore I would become his Luna. Then, right at the finish line of a racetrack, he hauled a trembling, sobbing blonde girl out of the “trophy,” draped his jacket over her shoulders, and turned gentle like he’d become a different man. He looked back at me and said, “Ann, don’t make a scene. She ended up like this because of us.” The next day, he said I should atone by pack law, kneel inside a vow circle drawn with salt and silver powder, and endure my wolf soul’s backlash under the moonlight. Later, he threw me into the basement she used to live in, forced me to survive the way she did, forced me to lower my head and apologize. What he didn’t know was that there was a little pup in my belly. And I wasn’t going to tell him. I’d wait until he was most off guard, slide the divorce papers in front of him, let him sign them with his own hand, then vanish cleanly and absolutely, with my child.

I am the sole heir to the Alpha King of Northaria, but I'm an Omega. All of Northaria awaits the day I come of age, hoping I'll awaken the kind of Alpha bloodline strong enough to claim the throne. But when the day finally comes, I'm still just a low-rank Omega. So, they say that the true heir must be one of the three "pledged Alphas" my father adopted from the major tribes. Whichever one of them marks me becomes the ruler of all Northaria packs. But none of them have ever truly looked at me. The one I like most is Quin Lawson. When I fainted on the snowy plains as a child, it was he who carried me back to the pack. I've tried countless times to get close to him, only to be met with nothing but cold, contemptuous stares. I used to think he was just emotionally distant—until the Moon Goddess Festival. That night, I saw him kneel before Silvia Anderson, the daughter of my father's second-in-command. His voice is soft, and his gaze is tender. "I'm marrying Evelyn only to repay the Alpha King's kindness. Once I get the inheritance, I'll make you my Luna. As long as she doesn't harm you, I'll even grant her a piece of land to live out her life in peace. You're my true mate." The night before the marking ceremony, my father asks me who I choose. I think of the way all three of the pledged Alphas look away whenever our eyes meet. I smile and say, "I'm the rightful heir of Northaria. My mate should be someone who brings the greatest strength to our pack. And so, I choose Alpha Heath of the Pyraxis pack." The air goes still. My father frowns. "Him? Are you sure? Every one of his mates has died under mysterious circumstances. His wolf is known to be vicious—no one dares get close to him. You truly want to be his mate?"

My billionaire husband suffered from chronic insomnia for years. Only the sleep balm I made could help him sleep. On the night of our seventh wedding anniversary, his childhood sweetheart poured a basin of scalding water over the old camphor tree in our garden. I wept and tried to save the tree as she apologized, “I didn’t know you used its leaves to make the sleep balm.” My husband gently comforted her and ordered his men to tie me to the tree trunk instead. “What a precious tree. You’ll spend the rest of your days with it!” With my wrist fractured as a result, I filed for divorce immediately. A month later, my husband was unable to sleep late one night. He stood in the garden and stared at the withered camphor tree.

Nira thought she was human—until she was sent to a school that shouldn’t exist. A place where wolves rule, power decides survival, and she doesn’t fit in. Adrian finds her, protects her… and shows her a truth she wasn’t ready for. Because the boy she trusted is the one who destroys her world. Not knowing he also recreated it for her , meeting her first love. Now, with a power she can’t control, Nira must rise—or be broken completely.

Don’t Stop, Daddy An addictive dark erotic romance of secrets, power, and forbidden desire. Sierra Blake was always the good girl. The obedient daughter. The quiet one who never crossed the line. But when she returns home from college, everything changes because her stepfather, Damien Steele, sees her differently now. And the worst part? She wants him to. Damien is powerful, dominant, and dangerously off limits. Married to her mother. Her protector. Her sin. He shouldn’t look at her like that, speak to her like that, touch her like that. But when he does, Sierra can’t bring herself to stop him. What begins as a game of stolen glances quickly spirals into nights of whispered commands, velvet ropes, and aching surrender. Every kiss is a betrayal. Every moan, a deeper fall. And the closer they get, the harder it becomes to hide. Because her mother sleeps down the hall. And secrets like these always find their way into the light. He’s the man she should fear most. But all she can whisper is… don’t stop. Was

Mine, my wolf said. Who's yours? I asked. The answer was Alpha Damir. I told my wolf to shut the hell up. --- Some vows are made in grief. Some are made in blood. I made mine on my knees in the rain, pushing dirt over the only two people who ever loved me, with smoke still in my lungs and fury so hot it had nowhere left to go. I came back from the UK and something felt wrong before I even reached the gate. The mansion was on fire. My father was already gone. My mother had seconds left and she used every single one of them to give me a name. Alpha Drakan. I carved that name into the inside of my chest and made a vow. Find him. Look him in the eye. Carve his heart out while it's still beating. Except Alpha Drakan was already dead. Two months in the ground. My parents died last night. Dead men don't order killings. Which meant I had the wrong name and the wrong man. My mother hadn't known. She was dying, she couldn't have known. But the name was Drakan and the blood was Drakan and the throne belonged to Drakan. His son. Damir, Alpha of Vordheim. Next of kin to a dead man and sitting on everything that name owned. My mother had pointed me here and here was where the answers lived. He was the one I suspected. The one I was watching. The one I had every intention of killing when the time was right. And then the moon goddess, who clearly has a vicious, twisted, absolutely unhinged sense of humour, went ahead and made him my mate.

Twenty years passed. I thought I had finally raised him to be a good person. But I was wrong. "I just sprayed the sweet smell you like, brother," he said. It was a strong, heavy smell. It made my whole body feel weak and my mind go blank. This was not just a nice smell. It was the scent of a dominant Alpha. "You must be tired from your meetings today," he said. "Come here, I will give you a massage." His hands moved from my face to my chest, and then further down my body. This was not a normal massage. This was the start of something romantic. "You really do not have to do this..." I said. "But I am your younger brother," he replied. He was covering me in his scent and touching me like this. This is definitely not how a younger brother should act. "We are only brothers on paper," he whispered. ...It looks like I completely failed at raising him.

Pregnant and humiliated: this is how her husband, the successful businessman Maximilian Phillips, left her. Left to her own devices, Mariana struggles to overcome the tragedy and be a good mother. She did not expect, however, that the father of her child would be deeply sorry and willing to fight to win her back. Will she ever forgive him?