Etheral Manor

Elena Jones, a recessive omega, has spent the past twenty years living in the shadows, avoiding trouble and hiding her true identity. Life was finally beginning to fall into place—she’d found the love of her life and was planning her dream wedding. But everything shatters the night she saves a stranger during a rainy night. By morning, she's summoned to the Pack Leader’s Manor… and her carefully built world begins to crumble. The infamous and ruthless Alpha, Mikhail Sokolov, isn't just the man she had saved the last night but also the Pack Leader and her second mate. And worse, he’s obsessed. Elena will do anything to escape the grip of the dangerous Alpha, but Mikhail will stop at nothing to claim her—not even if it means burning down the world or destroying her in the process. Because if he can’t have her alive, he’ll take her dead.

Jasper Oakley's first love, Pauline Simmons, is about to get married. In order to make her regret her decision, Jasper volunteers to guard the border. In doing so, he chooses to abandon the General's Manor and me, his wife. I've written 99 letters to him, yet I've never received a response from him. On the third year, I don't write any letters anymore. One day, I'm sitting on a chaise lounge while drinking supplements delivered from the palace when Jasper suddenly returns to the manor. As he stares at my pregnancy bump of six months, he gnashes his teeth together angrily. "You never came to the border to visit me in the past three years of our marriage. Whose spawn are you pregnant with?" I remain nonchalant. "Since you refuse to treat your own wife nicely, someone else needs to pick up the slack, right?"

My world ended when my mate’s brother died. Caspian, Alpha of the Shadowmoon Pack, took in the widow, Vivian. He said it was his duty to provide for both households. He sent her son to the elite Lunaris Academy. He sent my son to the toxic Grey Zone, called it "building resilience." He gifted her the Blackwood Manor, bought her armored vehicles. He called me wasteful. He said my child was a burden. He threw us into the Omega slums. My son died fighting for a moldy crust of silver-tainted bread. I died soon after. My skull was cracked open in a dark alley for a few coins. As my spirit faded, I finally saw the truth. Every step of our ruin was her design. I woke up gasping, back in my old bed at the Shadowmoon Packhouse. The moon was high. Tomorrow was my Binding Ceremony to Caspian. This time, I knew what to do.

When my stepsister, Kate Lawrence, is poisoned at the full moon ceremony, my father, Jack Blackwood, condemns me at once, convinced that I am the one behind it. He clamps silver chains around me and drags me into the manor's dark underground cell. His eyes burn hatefully as he snarls, "You wretch! How could I have a daughter like you? Rot in here!" I drop to my knees on the cold floor and try to explain, but the sentence he throws over his shoulder as he turns away snuffs out the last of my hope. "Even if she dies in there, no one shall go in! Whoever lets her out will die with her!" The cell severs the mind-link completely, so no one hears me screaming. Seven days later, he finally remembers me, not knowing that I'd already died on the fourth day when the silver burned through to the bone.

Five years in a coma. That’s how long Ava Jameson’s world was on pause. She woke expecting love and care from her husband, only to find her husband, Ethan, married to her sister Clara and raising a boy. It breaks her heart. She's sent to Blackwell Manor to recover at the mansion of her husband's stepfather, Damian Blackwell, a billionaire CEO with a reputation for ruthlessness. Damian has no interest in messy family drama, until he sees Ava. She awakens something he thought had died with his wife. This is dangerous and their attraction is forbidden. But when Ava is pressured to give up her settlement and is pressured by Ethan to live quietly, Damian offers her a shocking deal, a fake marriage in return for revenge. But now Ethan wants her back, and she finds herself caught between her past and her present, especially her father-in-law makes her feel things, her Ethan never did.

Winter, 2025. Seattle is shrouded in the cold mist of its endless rainy season. For the sake of a single recommendation letter to Stanford, Catherine Hale—a destitute but proud art student—knocks on the doors of the Highlands Manor to return a restored Song Dynasty porcelain. She intends to leave as quickly as she came, but instead stumbles into the world of William Sterling, the young, enigmatic patriarch of an old and powerful family. Cold, noble, and unfathomable, William draws her into a game of testing and maneuvering that plays out in the cracks between social class and self-esteem. From their first meeting on a rainy night to a silent rescue amidst the vanity fair of high society, Catherine fights to escape a glittering vortex she doesn't belong to, only to find herself falling step by step into William's gentle trap, lingering with the scent of cold cedar. In this rain-soaked city, a forbidden attraction blooms across the divide, unaware that fate has already secretly marked the price of its gifts.

I am the wife of Anthony Caster, don of the mafia family in New York. When I was nine months pregnant, he brought a woman named Evelyn Graves into the manor, claiming she’d saved his life. That was the day my nightmare began. She put something in my food. Next thing I knew, I was doubled over in pain. And she had the nerve to blame it on me—said I was being reckless with what I ate. She lost her footing and fell down the stairs, but she told everyone I was the one who shoved her. Every day, she’d cry in front of Anthony about how saving him had left her wounded and unable to bear children, how seeing a pregnant woman broke her heart. But the moment she turned to me, the tears were gone, replaced by a cold smile. “As long as I’m here,” she whispered, “your babies will never be born.” Anthony was convinced I was jealous of her. He locked me away in the abandoned attic of the manor and said, “Reflect on your actions and stop bullying Evelyn.” On the first day they shut me in, the contractions began. I screamed, I begged, I banged on the door. The butler heard me and went to inform Anthony. He said, “Amelia, your due date is three days away. Stop putting on an act. Three days in a snowstorm and you came out fine. This? You can handle this.” On the second day, my water broke. I screamed at the top of my lungs, my fingernails digging into the cracks of the wall, blood spilling all over the floor. The butler went to Anthony again. Evelyn said, “Anthony, she’s making all that noise because she wants you to feel sorry for her and let her out. If you give in now, she’ll only grow more reckless later.” He believed her. On the third day, I stopped screaming. Anthony thought I had finally learned my lesson, unaware that I had already died from the difficult labor. When he finally opened that door, all he would find was my rotting, putrid body.

“Pray tell, Emily, what is it you plan to gain from this marriage?” The vehemence of that word—the way it rolled out harshly from his lips—implied she had tricked him, that she had wanted something from him. A belief Emily hadn’t known he held. Her eyes widened in realization, and she sought to correct it at once. Good Lord, was she married to a man who despised her? *** When the earl of Tonfield, Cole Fletcher decided to drop his newly wedded wife at the steps of Blakewood Manor with as much respect as would be given a sack of potatoes, the last thing he expected was for her to move into his ancestral home and do the one thing he rather her not do. As if that wasn't enough, news of his wife's exploits was beginning to circulate around the ton, while Cole wants to keep an eye on his wife and put her firmly in her place. Emily wants her husband to understand she exists. As a wife, as a countess, as a woman! It's a clash of wills!

My husband, Damien Falcone, had 99 lovers. And I was the mafia princess men lined up to die for. The day we got together, everyone in our world took bets. They said we wouldn't last three months. But then , everything changed. For me, he wiped his phone clean, built a rose manor, and got down on one knee. Then, on our wedding night, he told me he wanted an open marriage. "Our bodies can play," he said. "But our loyalty? That's just for us." I agreed. Then came his 100th lover, Sophia Ricci. She betrayed our family in an arms deal. Almost got my father killed. But Damien protected her. He even moved her into our home. So, I did what any heartbroken mafia princess would do. I got drunk and woke up in another man's bed. I just didn't know that man was Damien's uncle.

It had been ten years since Julliane was cast out by the very people she once called family. Her own mother and stepbrother had driven her away from Magnolia Manor-the grand estate owned by the Dankworth family. Now, after a decade of silence, Lance Dankworth, the eldest son of the man her mother had married, stood at her door. He came bearing grim news, her mother had been in a tragic accident. An event serious enough to require Julliane's return to the manor she had long left behind. Julliane couldn't forget how Lance used to see her. He'd branded her a troublemaker, a slut, even when she was just a girl. To him, she had brought nothing but shame and pain to his family. And yet, here he was, asking her to come back with him. She knew he despised her. So why, after all these years, was he suddenly asking her to stay-and worse, to marry him?