Extraction Novels & Stories

Just because I accidentally broke my adopted sister’s bracelet, my brother threw me into the black market to “learn my lesson.” By the time I was rescued, I had been tortured so brutally that I was barely recognizable. It was Elijah York who risked his own life to pull me out of that hellhole. When we finally escaped, his blood had soaked my clothes, yet he held me tightly against his chest and whispered that he would never regret it. For three years after that, I drifted between moments of clarity and bouts of pure madness. I despised myself, constantly feeling dirty and broken, but Elijah always treated me like a princess. Until this day, my mind was, for once, clear. Caressing the tin

Our pack was forcibly dissolved for provoking a war. The Werewolf Council issued a new decree. All young wolves who hadn't participated in the war were required to undergo a heart blood extraction within one month to complete an aggression gene screening. Those who passed could join a new pack. Those who didn't would be expelled and cast out as rogues. Sophia, a white wolf, suddenly claimed that her father was the chairman of the Werewolf Council. She said she could get her father to exempt everyone from the screening and grant them unconditional entry into the Blackstone Pack. Our friends believed her and simply waited for her to lead them into the new pack.

THE ALPHA’S DEBT BOOK 2 "You think a broken Omega can be broken twice, Alpha?" I spit the words directly into Andrew Wolfe's face, the metallic tang of my own blood still sharp on my tongue. I survived the absolute devastation of the Redstone Correctional Facility with my spine intact, dragging my battered wolf out of the ashes of my ruined pack. I thought I had paid my dues to the universe. But returning to the Wolfe Crest Estate means facing the beast who signed my downfall—the cold, ruthless Alpha King who built his absolute empire on a throne of lethal lies. Andrew thinks his dominating cedar scent can force my knees to buckle, that his massive, scarred hands can rewrite the history

Vivian was wheeled out of the delivery room for the third time after a massive hemorrhage. The baby was stillborn. The doctor told her that her womb had been damaged by too many pregnancies. She would never carry another child. Numb and hollowed out, Vivian dragged herself toward the morgue to see her baby one last time, and that was when she saw her husband Ethan standing in the corridor, talking quietly to one of his men. "Don, your wife's baby was a perfect marrow match again. One more extraction and Claire's son will be cured." Vivian froze mid-step, every nerve in her body going still. Then came Ethan's voice, light and almost amused, and it shattered som