Echo Echo

After a fatal accident shatters her world, Octavia awakens in a realm ruled by savage werewolves only to discover she’s the fated mate of Alpha Xavier, the most ruthless and feared leader of all the packs. But fate is far from kind. Xavier is a beast cloaked in scars and shadows, still haunted by the brutal death of his first mate. His hatred for humans runs deep and Octavia’s very presence is a cruel reminder of everything he’s lost. Bound by ancient laws that demand he accept the bond or forfeit his throne, Xavier chooses duty over desire, even if it means tying himself to the one creature he despises most. Thrown into a world where she’s hunted, hated, and utterly alone, Octavia must fight to survive in a pack that would rather see her dead. But when whispers of betrayal echo through the trees and the truth about Xavier’s mate’s murder surfaces, Octavia uncovers a dark conspiracy rooted deep within the heart of the pack. As desire clashes with distrust and loyalty is tested, Octavia and Xavier are forced into a dangerous alliance. The bond that curses them may be their only hope but only if they can survive the secrets waiting to tear them apart. In a world where love is war and fate is a cruel master, will their connection destroy them or ignite a flame powerful enough to burn down the lies?

En el hospital se armó un escándalo. Un familiar de un paciente agitaba un cuchillo como un loco y, por instinto, empujé a Bruno para apartarlo. Pero él, de un tirón, me agarró la mano y me puso enfrente... para proteger a su querida Celia. Así, la cuchillada fue directo a mi vientre. Y con eso, me arrancó a mi bebé, que apenas empezaba a vivir. Mis compañeros del hospital, con lágrimas en los ojos, intentaban llevarme de urgencia a la UCI, pero Bruno me jaló de la camilla con brusquedad. Con la voz dura y cortante, soltó: —¡Primero salven a Celia! Si a ella le pasa algo, los echo a todos. Los médicos se quedaron helados, llenos de indignación. —¡Estás loco, Bruno! —le gritó uno—. Celia solo tiene un rasguño, ¡tu esposa está mucho peor! Yo, con las manos apretando mi abdomen empapado en sangre, asentí lentamente. —Déjenlo así... Bruno... con esto que te devuelvo hoy, ya no te debo nada.

A cruel young man who witnessed the death of his parents at a tender age, Edem Demirai, harbored a simmering rage within him. And then there was Lavigne Kotobe, a girl condemned by the chains of addiction at the tender age of eighteen. When their paths collided, their meeting was nothing short of a collision of tempests, their anger a force of nature. In the midst of their tumultuous encounter, Edem's words cut through the air like a blade against porcelain skin. "I want you, Lavigne," he whispered, his voice laden with both desire and darkness. "First with kindness, then with the gentlest touch. I want to both hurt you and shield you from pain. I want your voice to echo and then fall silent. I want you to revel in pleasure and struggle to understand it. I want to kiss you until your breath escapes you, only to inhale it back again in a desperate gasp. I need you, and I want you to steal the very breath from my lungs." Their collision was inevitable, their connection fraught with danger and desire. As they embarked on their tumultuous journey, they would soon realize that their meeting was just the beginning of a fiery dance between two souls destined to either consume each other or ignite a blaze of passion that would defy the darkness closing in around them.

Burning Hot 🔥 Ignite Your Darkest Desires ⚠️Do NOT open unless you’re ready to BURN ⚠️Do NOT read unless you crave the HOTNESS. A filthy, pulse-pounding collection of taboo erotica crafted exclusively for 18+ sinners who live for the forbidden rush. Inside, you’ll devour: Stepfather-stepdaughter secrets: that drip with guilt-soaked lust, his rough hands claiming what he shouldn’t, her tight, trembling body arching under him in the dark. Office affairs: where power suits rip open, desks become altars, and her moans echo as he bends her over, thrusting deep while the clock ticks. Exhibitionist thrills: strangers’ eyes devouring every exposed inch as she’s fucked against fogged glass, her cries muffled by his palm. Voyeuristic obsessions: hidden cameras catching every slick slide, every gasp as step-siblings finally snap, bodies colliding in a frenzy of sweat and sin. Kinky one-shots that push every limit: cuffs biting wrists, blindfolds heightening every wet lick, every brutal thrust until you’re begging for release. Each story is a standalone inferno, different bodies, different taboos, same blistering heat. Feel the throb between your thighs, the slick ache building, the shudder when they finally give in. Lock the door. Let the flames consume you. You’ve been warned.

The last place Ava expected to see her ex-husband was the hotel bar on a rainy Thursday night in Manhattan. She froze the moment her eyes found him. Ethan Mitchell looked older. Broader. More tired. But the way he stood, one hand wrapped around a glass he had not touched, was painfully familiar. For a second, the noise around her faded. The laughter. The music. The clinking glasses. All she could hear was the echo of a life she once lived. She should have turned around. Instead, she walked closer. “Ethan.” He looked up, and whatever calm he had shattered instantly. “Ava.” Her name sounded different on his lips. Softer. Careful. Like something fragile. “I didn’t know you’d be here,” he said. “I didn’t either,” she replied, her voice steady even though her heart was not. They stood there, strangers tied together by memories too heavy to name. The divorce papers. The last argument. The silence that followed. “Do you want to sit?” he asked after a moment. She hesitated. Then nodded. It was supposed to be harmless. Just a drink. Just conversation. Just closure. But as the night stretched on, the distance between them shrank, and Ava realized something terrifying. Some loves do not die. They just wait. And that night, neither of them walked away. This is a story full of twist and emotions will the come back together after all these years of separation ? Or will they cheat on both of there spouses.

When a young girl named **Emilia** moves to an isolated, fog-drenched city in search of a fresh start, she quickly discovers that something is terribly wrong. The streets echo with silence, residents vanish without a trace, and time itself begins to twist and collapse. As doors appear in places they shouldn’t, and her own reflection begins acting on its own, Emilia realizes she’s trapped in a place that is not just haunted — it’s alive. Each chapter peels back a new layer of horror: shadowy watchers, eerie apparitions, underground tunnels, and ghostly echoes of past inhabitants. But the real terror lies within — the city seems to feed on fear, loneliness, and the feeling of failure. It reflects Emilia’s own anxieties back at her, warping her reality into a trial of the soul. As she searches for meaning, and later for escape, Emilia uncovers the city’s sinister purpose: it traps those most vulnerable and forces them to confront their darkest selves. With the help of other survivors — some real, some echoes — she must navigate psychological mazes and make impossible choices to survive. But survival isn't enough. Emilia must transform — not by escaping her fear, but by embracing it. In doing so, she becomes something more than a victim of the city. She becomes a guide, a witness, and eventually, a keeper of the door. *Trapped in the Hollow City* is a suspenseful, haunting exploration of inner demons, resilience, and the eerie beauty of choosing to become — even when the world seems built to break you.

After two years of marriage, I believed I was living the dream—until the day I gave birth to our long-awaited heir. The house was filled with joy as my husband's family arrived, bearing gifts and ready to bestow a name upon our child, as tradition dictated. But the happiness of the day shattered in an instant when my husband walked in, hand in hand with his childhood sweetheart. In front of everyone, he announced not only our divorce but also his engagement to her, as if I had never mattered. *** "I’m divorcing Stacy," Jason announces, his voice unwavering, "to marry Nicole Cruz, my childhood sweetheart." He points to the woman standing before him who smiles and waves at everyone in the room. My world tilts on its axis. The words echo in my mind, louder and louder until they drown out everything else. What is going on?? "But why?" I whisper, my voice barely audible, even to myself. I'm unable to believe his betrayal. Jason doesn’t even glance at the child in my arms. "Because this has been a long time coming, Stacy. I’ve only stayed this long out of obligation and not love." Important Author’s Note: This is a rewritten version of my book The Alpha’s Betrayal: Reclaiming His Rejected Luna. From Chapter 12 onward, the story takes a new turn with fresh twists and drama. Thank you for reading—I hope you enjoy this new version!

I stand before the pack members, condemned by whispers and stares that cut deeper than any blade. Branded a killer, but I am no murderer. Yet, their accusations cling to me like a shroud, suffocating every shred of hope within me. “I’ll never reject you, Ivanna, but I’ll make your life hell.” His words echo throughout the hall. A cruel reminder of the torment that awaits me. “I’ll forever punish you for what you did to me and the pack.” My mate’s voice, once a source of strength, now drips with venomous hatred. “You’ll remain as my mate, and I’ll remain your nightmare.” “I didn’t kill her!” I protest, but he sees only a liar, a traitor to the pack. His fist hits my cheek, a brutal punishment for crimes I did not commit. “Liar!” He barks. “You killed her. And I’ll do the same to you. Slowly. Painfully. Until you’re choking on your last breath and desperately ready to tell the truth. That you killed her.” —---------------------------------------------------- When the Luna mysteriously dies before my eyes, everyone tags me as her killer. I go through hell and back. My life becomes an endless circle of misery. But I won’t break. I won’t give in to my abusers, no matter how brutally they try to break my soul. I’m determined to fight till the end. Until I’ve proven to them that I’m not the Luna’s Killer.

I shivered in the darkness, the air stale, damp and cold making goosebumps appear on my bare skin. The low rumbles and huffs which were coming from behind made me a little scared, and I knew the beast was still there, watching me with interest. I knew screaming and calling for help was futile since my voice was already hoarse for trying to scream the past few hours, but the only thing to be heard was my echo, and the snarl that followed next. I heard it shift and felt it's soft fur brush against my body and skin. I swallowed hard and held in my voice. The more it leaned in, the more my heart beat wildly, and I tried to move away from it. It's warm breath brushed against my cold skin making me shiver in response. I couldn't see but I had an idea what it wanted. I kept resisting but it was much stronger than I was, easily able to pull my thin legs apart. It showed it's dominance as a way to make me submit. I knew I wasn't strong enough to fight or escape it, but that didn't mean I was going to willingly do what the beast said, at least at that minute. But everything changed when I felt it's big head dip between my legs, easily parting them to the extreme, and a rough, yet soft , in my opening. I couldn't help the moan that left my lips. The was long, rough, and filled me to the brim, and that's when I knew I was in . The beast wanted to breed with me.

Before our wedding, my fiancée, Sarah Hargrave—a professor of medieval history—held a private ceremony in a secluded chapel in the countryside. But not with me. Under the glow of candlelight, she cradled Benjamin Wheeler—her first love, his face gaunt from the cancer consuming him—in her arms. Her smile was soft, almost reverent, as she murmured, "In the eyes of God, vows made before the altar are the only ones that matter. Even if the law says I belong to Daniel, my soul was never his." And so, to the faint echo of hymns and the scent of old incense, they drank from the same silver cup, exchanged rings, and stepped together into the dimly lit sacristy—their makeshift bridal chamber. I watched. Silent. Motionless. No outbursts, no demands for explanation. Just the quiet dialing of a clinic to undo the vasectomy I'd gotten for our future. From fifteen to thirty, I had loved Sarah for fifteen long years. But in all that time, there'd never been room for me. That space had always belonged to Benjamin, my stepbrother. So I let her go. Afterward, I joined a geological research team bound for the isolation of Antarctica—a land cut off from the world, quiet and clean. Before I left, I handed Sarah a divorce agreement…and a final gift to mark the end. I never anticipated that Sarah, who'd always met my devotion with frosty detachment, who'd never once glanced back as I walked away, would look ten years older overnight.