Drita D Avanzo Novels & Stories

Ryleigh didn’t remember being taken—only the cold bite of night and the blur of snarling shadows. Now she was locked in a cell beneath an unfamiliar pack house, her wrists sore, her memories foggy, and her heart pounding with questions. Her parents were dead, she’d just learned she was adopted, and now this—kidnapped by creatures that shouldn’t exist. Werewolves. Real ones. And someone with the initial D had left her a single note: You’re safe. Trust me. – D But safety felt like a lie. Especially after she witnessed a man shift before her eyes. Especially when the Alpha of the pack, Damien—arrogant, powerful, and dangerously charming—claimed ownership of her fate. Her only comfort came from Dr. Derek Blackthorn, the Alpha’s estranged brother, a healer with kind eyes and secrets of his own. In a house ruled by strict laws, bloodlines, and bitter alliances, Ryleigh must survive a world she was never meant to know. One where love could be her only weapon—or her greatest downfall.

My twin sister Elena and I were mated to the Alpha twins. Only the first pup born between my sister and me would become the pack’s Alpha heir. My sister got pregnant a month before me and she was supposed to give birth to the heir first, but I went into labor prematurely a month early. But when I was about to give birth, I chose to sit in a chamber filled with special potions that suppresses contractions. Because in my previous life, my Alpha mate Marcus had dragged me into wolfsbane-laced water to delay my labor. In the end, both my pup and I had died there. The agony had been unbearable. I'd sobbed and pleaded, begging him to explain why he was doing this to me. But he'd ignored my cries completely. All he cared about was rushing Elena to the pack's birthing den. "My brother Gabriel died saving my life," he'd snarled at me then. "The only way to honor that blood debt is to ensure his child becomes the pack heir. You can resent Elena all you want on any other day, but not today. Just hold on a little longer." "This is a special potion. You'll be safe and sound. Trust me!" Safe？ I'd suffered in that basement chamber for an entire day and night. My child suffocated in my womb while the wolfsbane poisoning consumed me. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day of my labor. This time, I have to save myself.

I used to be a top ballet dancer. The year I was diagnosed with a spinal hemangioma, my boyfriend Julian Blackwood said, "Wherever you go, I go." We'd been together three years. He walked beside me as I went, step by step, from the most luminous dancer on that stage to a woman in a wheelchair. Every time the nerve pain hit and I collapsed, he was the one who lifted me off the floor. Every round of electrostim and acupuncture, he sat in the corridor outside the therapy room and waited for me to come out. Before I got sick, he promised me—the night I finished my final performance of Swan Lake, we'd sign the marriage license. He'd bought tickets for that show three months in advance. I never stood on that stage again. And the marriage license never came up. Until the morning I noticed the collar of his white dress shirt carried a smudge of lipstick that wasn't mine. I heard him on the balcony. A woman's voice on the other end. "Mr. Blackwood, you left your jacket at the hotel last night. I'll bring it over." I stared at that smear of red, and something in me snapped. I laughed. "Send me to Westbrook. The locked-down rehab facility. I don't want to drag you down anymore." Something flickered in his eyes—a brief, animal panic. Then he nodded. He thought I meant rest. He didn't know I'd already signed the papers to donate my body to science. I was going there to die.

My fiancé was sleeping with my maid of honor. I caught them the night before our wedding. I didn't make a sound. I closed the door, walked back to my bridal suite, and sat at the vanity until my hands stopped shaking. Then I grabbed my keys. At two in the morning I drove forty blocks across Manhattan and knocked on Atlas Marchetti's door. Two years ago I'd told my family I wouldn't marry him. He hadn't said a word about it since. He opened the door in pajama pants. "Marry me tomorrow," I said. He didn't say yes. He poured himself a drink first, listened to everything, and then handed me a piece of paper with terms I should have read more carefully. I signed at dawn. Six hours later I walked down the aisle Carter and I had planned. The Plaza ballroom. The dress I'd chosen in spring. Three hundred guests who came to watch me marry the wrong man. I married someone else instead. Carter watched it happen. He didn't understand yet what he'd lost, and he wouldn't understand for months. Not until he found out who owned the company he ran, and how long Atlas had been bleeding it. I went to Atlas for revenge. He'd been writing this for two years.

The notorious Alpha is riding on me, his hardness pressed against my valley. With a pained look, he questions why I don't accept him. If you'd told me a week ago that I'd be mated to Alvar, I'd have spat at you. I'll think you are crazy. Now, it seems like I'm the one losing my mind. Alvar Gonzales, at his 28, is still unmarried. The Council is so anxious about it. As the Alpha of the world's largest pack, he desperately needs an heir. However, when Alvarfinally finding his mate—a wolfless slave—she's more focused on plotting her escape than embracing her fate. Rylee Green is sold by her father to Alvar, the most infamous Alpha. Rumors say he changes sex slaves every night and kills them if he’s not satisfied. Terrified to avoid a grisly end, Rylee tries her best to please the man. She plans her escape, only to find that running away only makes things worse. --- I'm new here and diving headfirst into writing the stories that pop into my head. I'm giving it my all to update daily, so if you're enjoying my work, I'd really appreciate it if you could leave a comment. Your feedback means the world to me and helps others discover my stories too. Plus, I’m always open to suggestions to improve. Thanks so much for your support!

My dad never got over his first love, so he traded me for her daughter, Irene. I spent twenty years like that before they finally took me back and named me the real heiress. So when it was time to pick a husband, I didn't care about anything else. I just wanted someone with a clean past. Like Shane Terrell. Detective captain. Cold, intimidating, and known for ignoring women—yet when he confessed, his ears went red. "Lana Laurent, you're my first. You have to take responsibility for me." I believed him. Thought I'd found the one. Then Irene came back. I stood in our house and watched Shane hold her, crying. "Why'd you make me lie to her? Why'd you make me marry her? You're the one I loved first!"

Five years into my marriage to Ethan Morgan, I thought I was the luckiest woman alive. He'd bought a private island in my name. He'd asked me to quit my career to rest. He called me his queen. What he didn't know was that I never stopped designing — under a different name, a secret identity no one knew about. Not even him. Then his secretary left a review on my designer account, raving about the dress her "billionaire boyfriend" had gifted her. The island in the photo was mine. The man beside her was my husband. [He says his wife doesn't satisfy his real needs.] [Only if he didn't need an heir from her, she'd already be gone.] I was pregnant with that heir. And he would never know. I made one call: "I need a new identity. And a divorce agreement."

By year's end, I'd closed a huge deal and snagged a $2.5 million bonus. The company even sent me on early maternity leave—nice perk for being eight months pregnant. Pauline found me lounging on the couch. "Why aren't you at work?" I cracked a joke. "Got fired. Guess I'll be stuck here playing housewife." Her response? A slap across my back. "Then get off and do the laundry! You're having a girl, not a son, and you think you can sit around like some princess?" My husband, Logan, walked in right then. He just pulled her into the nursery. Feeling hurt, I switched on the hidden cameras I'd secretly installed. I thought maybe he'd defend me. Yeah, no. What I uncovered? It was so much worse. Twisted secret after twisted secret.

Lindsey had the perfect life. The man of her dreams that was not only good-looking, but charming and everything else she'd always wanted in a mate. She gave everything to him and in return, he took her life. Now that she's reborn she's going to take back what belongs to her and get her revenge on those that betrayed her and nothing is going to get in her way. Except for maybe falling in love again with a man from her previous life she'd never noticed before, but will their love be enough to stay her hand or will she get her vengence at all costs?

Debt. Betrayal. Auction. Isabella Sterling, a master manipulator in disguise, was sold to Dante Belucci, the notorious and feared Mafia boss. His prize. His captive bride. They thought she was broken. They were wrong. She would use him, his power, his world, to destroy those who betrayed her. By the time he realized her dangerous game, he'd fallen too deep. He'd learn that the woman he owned was far more dangerous than he ever imagined. When Dante looked at her, his heart broken, he asked, "Did you ever love me, Isabella?”