Elsa Frozen Castle

"I died with the taste of jasmine and betrayal on my tongue. I woke up with a debt to a monster." Elara Vance was the perfect noble daughter—quiet, dutiful, and blind. She gave her heart to the charming Lord Caspian de Montfort and her trust to her "saintly" step-sister, Lyra. Her reward? A slow-acting poison in her tea and the sight of her husband prying the family signet ring from her cold, paralyzed finger. But death is not the end for those with a soul full of rage. In the misty aisles of the Shop of Lost Regrets, Elara meets the Archivist—a terrifying entity who offers her a second chance. The price? She must return to her sixteen-year-old self and complete a series of increasingly dangerous tasks. If she succeeds, she gets her revenge. If she fails, her heart stops forever. To survive her murderous family, Elara must secure the protection of the only man they fear: Kaelen Thorne, the "Monstrous Duke" of the North. She proposes a marriage of convenience—a cold, blood-bound contract built on secrets and strategy. As Elara and Kaelen journey to the frozen border, they enter a deadly game of cat and mouse. Between the Duke’s ancient curse, Caspian’s obsessive pursuit, and the Archivist’s mysterious demands, Elara must navigate a world where love is a weakness and information is the only currency. In this life, Elara is no longer a pawn. She is the player. And she will burn the kingdom to the ground to ensure her enemies never taste jasmine again.

The Eagle I watch her come out of the shower, the droplets of water on her body, I would like to take their place. I hand her a pair of panties and a top that fits her breasts well. - Get dressed. She turns her back to me so she can dress. - The first rule: never be ashamed of me. - The second rule: always dress in front of me and without turning your back to me. So look here and remove the towel to get dressed. She faces me and unwraps her towel; I look at the naked body in front of me: her enormous breasts standing out, her buttocks visible behind her, she tries to quickly put on her panties. - Stop. She freezes and looks at me with a silent question. - Turn around so I can admire your body. She spins around and I appreciate this magnificent goddess in front of me. - You are magnificent, querida. She does not respond. - Come closer so I can help you get dressed. She remains frozen, unwilling to approach. - Rule No. 3: always do what I ask you. Come closer. Sibelle is a very beautiful young woman who is kidnapped by the men of a mobster: the formidable Royal Eagle, who is merciless. Will Sibelle be able to adapt to this life? And can she soften the hardened heart of the royal eagle? Follow me to find out what will happen to her.

I'd been "married" to Zachary for two years—until I tried applying for a loan and the bank's system flagged someone else as his legal wife. Our wedding? Just a private show. The real marriage license had his name next to hers. So yeah. I wasn't the wife. I was the other woman. Crushed, I went home—only to hear Zachary talking to his friend, Ethan, by the door. "Man, watching you stress is exhausting," Ethan said. "You clearly love Sierra. So why marry Cathryn?" Zachary looked torn. "At first, she was just a stand-in. But when she left, I couldn't stop thinking about her. So I brought her back—as my assistant." He paused, then muttered, "I can't live without Sierra. But I can't let go of Cathryn either. So I gave Sierra my love in public and kept Cathryn hidden with the title. That's fair, right?" I stood frozen, heart splitting open. He loved us both. Me—his childhood sweetheart. Her—the hidden wife. I thought I was the one. Turns out, I was just the game. He didn't break my heart. He shattered my whole world. But I didn't cry. I didn't scream. I walked away. And started planning two things.

“Sign them. Now!” He threw the papers across the bed and they fluttered in front of me, taunting me with words boldly spelled on them. Divorce. My blood had fizzled out. I refused to believe this was happening. I had never filled myself with delusions of Ezekiel ever loving me, but I had truly believed we could both tolerate our obligations to each other. Perhaps I was just blinded by love. “You're breaking this marriage because of Ellen? Because of my sister?” **** As though the death of her grandmother and a painful divorce weren’t enough torture for one day, Camille Manor stands frozen in the face of a family annulment. Letting go of her past life, she leaves for the States where she aims to start life afresh and raise her children not even the father knew about. Things change when she receives a shocking letter that changes everything. Now, after four years of staying away, Camille must return to London to face the lurking shadows of her past. But with her ex-husband back in her life, will her plans for revenge go smoothly? In the midst of exposing buried family secrets, she struggles to tame the feelings she still has for Zeke despite his betrayal while hiding his paternity over her children. Meanwhile, she takes down the Manor’s one by one in a bid to reclaim the honor that was once hers.

At nine months pregnant, I suffered an unexpected miscarriage. My husband, Graham Pearson, fought back his own grief as he comforted me. He would whisper to me every day, trying to soothe my shattered heart, "Whitney, we will have children again someday. Our little angel was here for a while, and next time, we'll make sure we hold onto them..." Under Graham's careful care, I slowly began to pull myself out of the numb fog I'd been trapped in. But then, a month later, I overheard him talking to one of his friends. "If Whitney finds out the baby didn't actually die and that you've let Cassidy raise him, don't you think she'll flip out? You've worked so hard to get where you are; you can't let this mess it all up." Graham casually flicked his cigarette, his voice almost detached as he waved a hand dismissively. "Cassidy can't have kids, but she loves children. If this baby brings her joy, it's a blessing for the child, too. "I might never get the chance to be with Cassidy, but letting her raise my son, in some way, feels like a kind of fulfillment..." The truth hit me like a frozen wave, paralyzing me in place. It turned out this whole ordeal had been part of Graham's plan from the start.

My father suffered a heart attack and collapsed. Emergency treatment required the installation of a cardiac stent. I asked my husband to approve an expense of 10 thousand dollars for the surgery. Cameron Lister, the CEO, refused coldly, "The company and family accounts have been frozen recently because of a major project. Your father has medical insurance, so just use a cost-effective domestic stent for now." He was the sole administrator of all the bank cards in my family. His reply made me sorrowfully realize something. Even though I was a genius architectural designer with an annual income of 600 thousand dollars, I was still not worthy of choosing a better life-saving device for my own father. It was a Twitter post forwarded by a colleague, freshly and gleefully posted by the company intern Wendy. [Cameron is so nice. I just said I liked painting, and he gave me a million dollars to organize an art exhibition. I love him so much!] I looked at my father lying on an extra bed in the hospital corridor, groaning in pain, and then looked at the photo of them sweetly embracing each other. I finally understood that Cameron had perhaps never truly loved me. He had only treated me as a stepping stone for his soaring career, and as a tool for him to exploit without limits. 'If this is what you want, Cameron, then don't blame me for being ruthless,' I said inwardly.

My dad is a fan of tough love parenting. When I was a kid, there was a time when I obtained full marks on two subjects. But he told me, "Your grades don't mean anything in life. If you were a true man, you'd leap down five floors without batting an eyelash." Some time later, I was awarded for my act of bravery. But Dad scoffed in my face. "Not even a hair is harmed on your head. Why should you be awarded anyway?" I thought Dad wanted me to go through more training in life. On Christmas Eve, he ditched me on a snowy mountain under the guise of wanting me to go through more training. He didn't give me a tent or a lighter. Later on, Dad even brags about his parenting method to his relatives and friends. "A real man should survive and thrive in a desperate situation! I told Julian that he can forget about being my son if he can't even make his way back to the summit!" But the red dot on the GPS tracker installed in his phone hasn't moved for the past three hours. The truth is, I've already frozen to death in the mountains. Trapped in my fist is a crumpled, torn scrap of paper. Meanwhile, my soul is currently floating above the dining table while watching Dad brag about his tough love parenting.

I sold my body to a Werewolf King to save my sister's life. The contract was simple: I become the silent, obedient wife of Kaelen, the most ruthless Alpha in the city, for five years. In return, he pays for the cure that will save her. He is a monster of ice and power, a king who rules from a skyscraper throne. I am just a human, a pawn in a game I don't understand. He thinks he owns me. He lays down the rules with a voice like frozen steel: Don't touch me. Don't ask questions. And never, ever look me in the eye. But the first time his skin brushes mine, a searing energy erupts between us. His cold control shatters, and for a single, terrifying second, his eyes flash with feral gold. He shoves me away like I’ve burned him, his snarl echoing through our gilded cage, "Get out!" Now, I'm trapped in his world of deadly pack politics and ancient magic. He's cruel, distant, and yet his gaze follows my every move, burning with a possessive fire that contradicts every word he says. I’ve just discovered the dangerous truth he’s been hiding: I am not just his purchased bride. I am his fated mate. And the powerful enemy hunting us has just found out that the key to destroying the Werewolf King… is me.

My mate, Kane Blackwood, was the most feared Alpha in the Northlands. For three years, he treated me like something that belonged to him. He would drag me into his arms on the stone steps after moon rituals, pin me against the wall in Blackthorn Keep’s long corridors, and bite the mark on the back of my neck beside the patrol trails in the border woods, as if he needed everyone to remember exactly whose Luna I was. I used to think that was his way of loving me. Rough. Possessive. Lacking tenderness. But love, all the same. Until one night, I stopped outside the council hall and heard an elder say in a furious voice, “Those charcoal sketches on the black market were released by your people, weren’t they? Every one of them is of you and Elena in bed. She has become a joke across the pack. Do you even understand what you’ve done?” There was a brief silence. Then Kane said, coldly, “She is the Luna the council chose for me. She is not the woman I wanted.” I stood frozen outside the door. All those years, I thought his roughness meant he loved me too fiercely to be gentle. But it was never love. It was humiliation. Punishment for taking the place of the woman he actually wanted. I lowered my eyes to the moonstone bracelet on my wrist, the one he had clasped there the day our mating contract was sealed. If that was all I had ever been to him, then I would leave.

The Garcia family's notorious illegitimate son — violent, obsessive, and dangerously unstable — had sent out a public marriage summons. One of us, my sister or I, was to become his bride. My father, with his career in ruins and his influence dwindling, had no choice but to agree. In desperation, I begged my boyfriend Eric Jordan to return home and make our engagement official. He did rush back, travel-worn and anxious — but only to ask for my sister's hand in marriage. Shattered, I demanded to know why. Eric frowned, his voice icy. "You're just a foster daughter of the Lynch family. You've eaten their food, lived under their roof for years. And if it weren't for Willa, you would've frozen to death on the street. Now's your chance to repay her. Don't be ungrateful." I refused to stay silent. He shoved me aside in frustration. "I told you — Willa and I are only pretending. Once she's out of danger and that lunatic forgets about the proposal, we'll divorce. I'll come back for you. However, stop embarrassing yourself like this — it's pathetic." What Eric did not know was… Willa Lynch escaped the marriage. However, I did not. Later, on the day of the wedding, as the bridal car passed the Jordan family estate, I looked out the window — and locked eyes with Eric. His face turned pale as a sheet.