Dry Water

She was the lowest among them, an omega meant to serve, to obey, to be forgotten. Until the Alpha touched her. Until he marked her with words that felt like a promise... and shoved her off a cliff like she was nothing. Ayla thought betrayal had a name, a face, a heartbeat she once trusted. She thought the crashing water would be her grave. But death didn’t claim her. The dragon did. She awakens not in darkness, but in silk sheets soaked with sweat, her body wracked with fire, strangers calling her Queen Liliana. The child they beg her to bring into the world is no wolf pup, it’s something older, deeper… and hers. Now fire sings in her veins. Scales burn beneath her skin. She remembers being Ayla. But they swear she is a queen, reborn through flame and fury, the last of the dragon-blooded line. Torn between two lives, two names, two fates… Was she reborn by fate’s hand, or was she always meant to rise? Because if this isn’t death, then it must be the beginning… of the Dragon Queen.

“Fuck, Ada…”“Brad...oh, fuck... deeper... harder!” Ada’s shrill voice begged between breathy moans.The banging of the headboard against the wall intensified as Ann froze. No... it couldn’t be!Ann took a deep breath and nudged the door a little more. Her chest felt like it would explode as she held her breath whilst the crack widened.When it revealed her sister lying underneath her husband-to-be, her hands flew to her mouth to stifle the gasp of horror as her heart shattered instantly.As Brad roared his release inside her sister, Ada turned her head towards the door with a smirk.An icy chill descended over Ann as if a bucket of ice water had been thrown over her and she stood and stared, her eyes wide and mouth slightly open in disbelief.Ada lifted her hand and waved in Ada’s direction with a smug smile plastered on her face as Brad collapsed on top of her, kissing her neck tenderly.Is there anything you can do if your mate had sex with your sister?

I was six months pregnant when my husband, Michael Greene, shoved me off the edge of a yacht during a birthday party. Why? Because Lily Clement, his childhood sweetheart, had fallen into the water, and apparently, the yacht was too small for all three of us. After being pulled from the ocean, suffering from hypothermia and shock, I was taken to the hospital. Doctors determined that emergency surgery was necessary and required a family member's consent. However, no matter how many times they called, Michael never picked up. At the same time, lying in a hospital bed, I scrolled through Lily’s Instagram and saw the post she shared just hours earlier. It was a photo of the two of them, soaked but clinging to each other like lovers out of a movie. "Sometimes love comes from the most unexpected places. Thank you for always being there for me—quietly, selflessly, unshakably." That was all I needed. The day I was discharged, I left Michael a signed divorce agreement. If he wanted to be her knight in shining armor, I’d let him.

Do you once imagine a place where there's a high paying job but cheap prices of supplies and low bills of rent, water and electricity? Kilala ang Sitio De Villasarza dahil dito. Maraming tao ang lumipat dito dahil naniniwala silang sa hirap ng buhay ngayon ay malaking tulong sa kanila ang Sitio. There's a lot of advantages that their family can get. But what if this place has a hidden goal and this benefit is just a plain plan to lure people inside? Tatlong babae na sina Yuki, Deiji at Michelle ay naninirahan sa isang girl's dormitory sa loob ng Sitio De Villasarza kasama ang kambal ni Michelle na si Michael. The four of them face a different and strange experience inside the Sitio De Villasarza and they soon meet Glenn, classmate of Michael who offered them help and protection. Maraming tao at grupo silang nakasalamuha at nakilala na naging advantage nila upang protektahan ang isa't isa ngunit hindi mapigilan ang mga pangyayaring nababawasan sila. Can they still be alive or they will be dead before help arrives?

When my husband Joshua dragged his student Linda Moore into our apartment, I didn't even blink—I gave up the bed. Last time, it'd been pouring when he showed up with her in the middle of the night. Told me to crash on the floor with my daughter Mia and gave Linda the bed like it was nothing. I lost it. Fought with him, snapped at her. She bolted, slipped into a ditch, and supposedly drowned. Joshua said nothing. Then, one night, with the storm going wild outside, he pried open a manhole and dumped me and Mia in like trash. "Linda's my mentor's daughter. She's dead—how am I supposed to face him? You two can apologize yourselves." We didn't even get to scream before that freezing, disgusting water swallowed us whole. Turns out, Linda faked the whole thing. Just a twisted joke to punish me. Joshua moved her in right after, like nothing happened. Now, thunder cracked again as the door opened—and there he was, Linda right behind him.

I was reborn before I signed up for a scientific expedition tour to the South Pole. My boyfriend’s adopted younger sister used a system to forcefully exchange my physical senses with hers. She deliberately went out to do something good on a day with a temperature of 107.6 °F, like delivering water to the outdoor workers. On the other hand, I got so hot in a 60.8 °F air-conditioned room that I fainted from heat stroke. I begged Wendy Little to stop, but she feigned innocence. “You must make a good excuse if you want to lie like that!” Max Little sounded disdainful. “How selfish! You’re quite lucky to enjoy yourself in air-conditioned rooms every day. You can’t tolerate Wendy doing something kind.” Wendy took her time and basked in the sun for a month outside. People took photos of her and put them on the internet. Countless netizens were moved by her. But I died from heat stroke in an air-conditioned room. Nobody even found my corpse. If that was how it was, I wanted her to enjoy the coolness of -184 °F in the South Pole.

My fiancé and brother hated me for ten years. They firmly believed I had bullied their beloved Linda Lowe. At my engagement party, they exposed my crimes to the world. "She's nothing but a bully who tormented her classmate!" In the viral livestream video, Linda smiled through tears: "I've already forgiven her." "What's done is done. The past is behind us now" She became an overnight sensation. Meanwhile, I was condemned by thousands, attacked with acid by fanatic fans, and in despair, I took us both down together. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in my senior year of high school. Linda was pouring water over her own head while smiling, asking me, "Have you thought about how you'll apologize to me?" I lost it right there. Grabbing her by the hair, I dragged her into the bathroom, shoving her head into the toilet. "Let me show you what real bullying looks like. Since your mouth is so filthy, make sure to wash it clean before you go telling tales."

This book is for viewers above the age of 18. It may contain explicit and violent scenes not suitable for all viewers. If you're not into dark romance you might find this disturbing. Her body hit the wall, her breath trembling as her eyes darted across my face. I knew that look — the one that screams lust. It made my mouth water instantly. “Stay back,” she gasped, her voice unsteady. But I did the opposite. As our bodies pressed together, I felt her tremble beneath me. “I just want you and that… that—” she faltered, the words dying as my hands found her hips. “That what, Mrs. Claire?” I murmured. She swallowed hard. Mrs. Claire — the woman who lets desire consume her. The woman I can’t get out of my head. --- Mrs. Claire: How did I find myself in this mess? I only wanted them to leave my family alone. But now… here I am, caught in a scandal of my own. What happens when your husband's mistress boyfriend becomes your Dom.

My father-in-law said he wanted to experience "how the young folks have fun these days," so I took him to my wife's newly opened upscale cocktail bar for a quiet drink. I’d just finished ordering him a custom cocktail when a man from a booth across the room swaggered over, glass in hand. His eyes scanned the drink menu on our table, and a condescending smirk twisted his lips. "Only ordering the cheapest well drinks?" he sneered. "Brought the old man here to enjoy the free air conditioning? Trash like you belongs in a dive bar. Who even let you in here?" Anger burned in my chest. I stood up, my jaw clenched. "We're paying customers. What's it to you?" But before I could say another word, his face darkened with pure rage. He snatched the half-finished beer bottle from our table and smashed it on my head. "My girl owns this place!" he snarled. "Even if I crack your skull open, I can afford the payout! You filthy pauper—either get on your knees and lick my shoes dry, or get the hell out of my sight. You're an eyesore." The beer dripped down my face. My hands trembled with fury as I wiped it away. Then, a cold calm settled over me. I opened my phone, switched to the camera, and went live. "Alright, everyone," I said into the screen. "You won't want to miss this. We're going live to catch my cheating wife and see the double life she's been leading."

Imran Khan’s life falls apart the day his father disappears, leaving him drowning in debt and hunted by dangerous men. With no way out, he makes a desperate choice, selling one night of his life to a stranger. But that stranger turns out to be Rafaelle Moretti, a powerful and dangerous man who doesn’t just want one night… he wants control. What starts as a deal quickly turns into something darker. Possession. Power. Desire. Imran wants freedom. Rafaelle doesn’t let go. “Say my name, Gattino.” His voice came out low, smooth, and controlled, the kind that didn’t need to be loud to make your body react. It wrapped around me, heavy and dangerous, as his body pressed mine deeper into the mattress. I could feel the weight of him, solid and unyielding, hovering just enough to remind me that I wasn’t going anywhere unless he allowed it. I swallowed, my throat dry, my chest rising and falling too fast. Even thinking his name felt like stepping into something I couldn’t come back from. His hand pinned my wrist above my head, not rough, not painful, just firm enough to remind me who was in control. The other slid slowly along my side, fingers dragging in a way that made my skin heat up against my will. Every touch was deliberate, like he was studying me, learning how I reacted without me saying a word. “Say it,” he murmured again, his face closer now, his breath warm against my lips.