Drew Thomas The Conjuring Romane & Geschichten

“I, Alpha Draco of the Peony pack hereby reject you, Helena, as my mate. I refuse to have anything to do with you anymore. You will be banished from this pack, never to set foot on this land anymore or you will pay for it with your life” his thick voice boomed through the cold and dark cell where I was kept all day with no food or water. My chapped lips parted painfully as the flesh drew each other tightly. I couldn’t even beg or plead for mercy. It was a miracle that I was not even killed because I was probably the most hated person in the pack at that moment. He didn’t allow me to utter whatever I had in mind before he turned his back on me. My finger grazed his cold hand as I tried to hold onto him, I was late. The warm eyes that had always behold me now look at me with disdain. There was no hope anywhere, his extreme sadness was visible even through his back as his footstep retracted into the long distance. At the loud clunk of the prison’s door kissing its hinge, my whole world crumbled. The only thing left in me was the small life breathing in my womb, something Draco never knew of. Right there, I made the resolution to live for my baby and find out the truth behind what happened in the pack that night.

It was my honeymoon trip, but my husband's best friend insisted on going into the sea for shark watching despite being on her period. I reasoned against it, as sharks would go amok from the scent of blood, only for Heidi to snap at me, "You're just jealous I have a nice body! That's why you don't want me to have fun with your husband!" My own husband and his other buddies joined in too, brushing me off impatiently. "It's rare for us to hang out! Don't be a buzzkill!" "That's right! Hannah is young and beautiful. She should take pictures with the sharks." With that, they all went down the water despite my earnest protests, and her menstrual bleeding drew schools of sharks toward her right away. When I tried to help, she kicked me in the head, knocking me out and leaving me in the water as the sharks tore me to pieces. While I died under the sea in agonizing despair, Heidi, my husband, and their friends managed to get to safety. Once they returned to civilization, they reported my death as a drowning and pilfered all my wealth. While they rose to the peak of their existence, my parents, devastated by my death, both took their own lives. That was when I opened my eyes again and found myself back on the desert island where they were going for shark watching.

In the coastal quiet of Baler, a studio is born—not of architecture, but of intention.* Founded by Yam, a poet whose words cradle pain gently, and Franc, an artist who paints tenderness into walls, the studio becomes a refuge for those learning to stay—with grief, love, longing, and themselves. As visitors arrive, they leave behind more than footprints: a sigh recorded in bamboo, a poem tucked into the “Found Letters” shelf, a mural painted in crooked lines. Through zines, tea, silence, and sketchbooks, the studio teaches softness as revolution. Ren creates the *Window of Soft Returns*, an installation of anonymous voice recordings—each whisper forming a community of echoes. Drew builds the *Staircase With No Wrong Turns*, inviting people to walk through emotions without shame. Franc offers brushstrokes as brave work, and Yam curates writing circles that map healing in half sentences. Together, they host festivals that feel like hugs, and they begin traveling their archive, letting softness cross oceans. Even those who once left—like Miguel—return, discovering that some doors never truly close. Others, like Tala, capture the studio’s sound and turn it into a podcast of breath and becoming. Over seventy chapters, the studio transforms into something larger than itself: a mural of memory, a sanctuary for second chances, a place where return is sacred and voice is proof of survival. In the final bloom, the studio stands not as a monument—but as a reminder: > *“Staying isn’t easy. > But chosen together, > it becomes home.”*

"Why would you try to hurt her?" Victor shouted back. His voice was cold towards me, as he held onto Lily's hand. "So you're just going to believe her over your own wife?!" I fired back. Victor ignored my words and drew his attention to Lily and the broken glass. I watched as he carefully collected the pieces and threw them away. "Are you hurt anywhere? Did the glass get you?" Victor asked softly, giving her hand a light squeeze. "No, no. I'm okay now that you're here." Lily's smile was small. "Please don't leave me alone with her again..." **** I, Emelia Russo, once thought I was a woman who had it all—a successful career, and a loving husband. But when a "childhood friend" by the name of Lily Marino re-enters my husband's life, everything takes a turn for the worse. All of a sudden, my once faithful and loyal Victor was lying for her, favoring her, and trusting her word over mine. I became the outsider in my own marriage. When I finally had enough of his secrets and mistreatment of me and called for a divorce, he begged me to stay. "Please, let's go back to how the way things used to be! I'm begging you! Don't leave me!" Victor pleaded. But what happens when I tell him "It's too late."?

WARNING: 95% Sex Content/1 She-Wolf Vs 5 Alphas Three years ago, my father betrayed my mother, shattering our lives and forcing us into exile. Now, at seventeen, everything is about to change. My mother has found a second chance—with none other than the famous Alpha Thomas Blackthorn of the powerful Blackridge Pack. She's ready to start over, and I have no choice but to follow her into this new world ruled by dominance, secrets, and desire. *** "I Promise," his voice scraped raw, "I won't fuck you. Not until your wolf wakes." His fingers trailed up my inner thigh, hooking under the lace of my panties. "But you'll help me before that." His body pinned me down, muscles taut, skin scorching. His knee wedged between them, forcing me open. Then his grip tightened, yanking my legs shut again— His cock, flushed and massive, pistoned through the tight clasp of my legs. The swollen head peeked out with every stroke, glistening, filthy. I snapped my eyes shut, but that only heightened everything else— The heat of him. The wet slap of skin. The way my body betrayed me, slick gathering where I shouldn't be wet, a traitorous throb building— Shame. Shame. Shame.

After my wife, Princess Keisha Peyton, spent a reckless night with her adopted brother, I chose to abandon her and our child and return to my original world. But the next year, the system suddenly came to find me. [Host... could you go back for a while? The target has been trying to break through dimensions to find you. And your child... he's also a bit mentally unstable...] I looked down at the cancer diagnosis I had just received and sighed. "Fine. I'll go back." When I returned, I became the perfect prince consort. I no longer demanded monogamy. Instead, I even started actively selecting male companions to bring into Keisha's household. I also dismissed the tutors who had been pushing my son to study, allowing him to join the military camps while he was still young. I rarely went out and kept the princess's estate running flawlessly. But when Keisha saw all this, she went crazy—smashing every ornament in the room. "I already sent Gregory away," she said. "What are you trying to do, tormenting me like this?" Our son, Thomas Peyton, stood there tearfully. "I'll never say again that Mother can have many male companions because she's a princess. And I'll never mention Gregory again either. Father, please stop making a scene, okay?"

Alessandra Marino, 35, runs New York's most powerful criminal organization from a penthouse forty-two floors above a city she owns. She has built this empire with one purpose: to avenge her father Vittorio, murdered seventeen years ago in a warehouse on Fifth Street when Alessandra was eighteen. She has a scar above her heart from that night — a knife meant for him. She has never once questioned the direction of her war. The night she executes a traitor named Theron, she receives a call from an unknown woman who claims to know why Vittorio really died. The woman is Giuliana Torelli — daughter of the man who pulled the trigger, made to watch as a fourteen-year-old, carrying the truth for seventeen years while waiting for someone ready to hear it. What Giuliana reveals dismantles everything Alessandra believed: Vittorio wasn't killed for his power. He was killed because he was going to go federal — because his wife was pregnant with a second child and he wanted to run, to be ordinary, to give his family a life outside the empire. Thomas Accardi, the man who married Alessandra's mother after Vittorio's death, was the architect of the murder. And Accardi has always known about the second child. Her name is Mara. She is twenty-eight years old, living in Williamsburg, and completely unaware that her entire life is a lie — or that Accardi has just wired a hundred thousand dollars to a fixer named James Sullivan.

A Dark Soul , damaged by his past. An Angel forced to be his wife. Can anything go right? Would they ever be able to fall in love? Will she be able to see past his darkness? Will he be able to protect her when danger comes knocking? Find out in the book... An Excerpt. "Leave me alone" A deep voice spoke in the dark ess. Without seeing who it was , princess Rania knew the voice belonged to the second prince of Araggon. "How will I leave you alone , your highness?" She asked, shakily. It was their first night after marriage and he was giving her attitude already. But what did you expect from a devil man , who felt too proud to attend his own wedding! There was no response from him. Princess Rania sighed to leave. There was no light in the room to afraid to move or take a step, she wandered around the room till she stepped on a foot. A firm hand drew her in to his arms and held her waist tight. "Since You decided to stay , I hope you face the consequences of your stubbornness." Princess Rania tried to break away from him but he was too strong. She could tell from his strength that he was no ordinary man. Prince Ivar felt the energy coming again as he tried to free the fragile girl. Disappointed, the urge came back, he had no choice than to it. *The end game was that the innocent Princess Rania was eaten clean by the hungry wolf*

Autumn I didn’t mean to tell my entire family that I’m dating my ex’s three older brothers…But to be fair, the lie wasn’t even my fault. When my ex asked if I’d be bringing a plus-one to his holiday wedding (to my sister, by the way–don’t even get me started about that). I lied. I probably should’ve been prepared for followup questions, but when my ex asked who I’m dating, I drew a complete blank. That’s when his three gorgeous older brothers spoke up… at the same time. Now my family thinks I’m dating all three of them, Elijah, Luke, and Benedict. To make things even more complicated, they don’t seem to get along at all, and I may have given my v-card to Elijah six years ago before he ghosted me after one night. My life is chaotic enough as it is, trying to keep my tiny bakery afloat during the Christmas rush. The last thing I need is all three brothers coming after me. This is all supposed to be fake… even if the tension between us feels alarmingly real.I already fell for one Montgomery brother and got my heart broken. What would happen if I dare to let myself fall for three?

Every Christmas Eve in Port Saint Giovanni, the Camerlano family hosts the Claiming Rite at Saint Giovanni Manor. Twelve girls stand in a line. Whoever receives the white-gold signet pin becomes the heir’s publicly acknowledged bride candidate. I am Grace Sorrento, the bastard daughter of the Sorrento family. If I do not receive that signet tonight, by sunrise I will be put on a plane to Chicago and married off to a Rizzo, a man rumored to have killed two former fiancées. Adrian Camerlano, the boy I grew up with, swore to me in blood three days ago that the signet would be mine. But when the moment came, his hand turned. With a smile, he pinned it on Lucia, the orphan his family had sponsored. Then he leaned close to my ear. "Let Lucia have her moment. No one has ever really looked at her before. Don’t worry. This is my estate. No one will dare arrange your marriage without my say." I grabbed his sleeve, but he removed my fingers one by one. "Lucia has no roots and no last name. Tonight is all she has. But you are a Sorrento. Even without the signet, no one will touch you." That phrase, no last name, drew every gaze in the ballroom toward me, full of pity and quiet mockery. The next morning, I boarded a flight to Chicago. When Adrian heard, he made one call to Port Saint Giovanni Air Control. "Ground every plane. Nothing leaves today!"