Fae Names Male

My fiancée is a DINK. She lies to me about going abroad for a year to further her education—she's actually left to have a child with her childhood sweetheart. He shares a photo of her after she's given birth. It's captioned, "This is the world's best childhood sweetheart. My family's line shall continue!" I'm furious when I see their mutual friends leaving comments urging them to get married. I comment, "May you be together forever and end up with no descendants." My fiancée immediately calls me and snaps, "What the hell are you doing? I'm just fulfilling a promise I made to him during our childhood!" I hang up and call off the engagement. There's no point in continuing with this relationship!

My name is Lisha; I live with my grandmother Allana and my mother, Olivia; we are Dark Fae, one from the Unseelie lands. They say we are dark, cruel, evil creatures, and some of us are—but only the ones who aren't being subjected to the cruelty and cunning of both the Seelie and Unseelie. The strong prey on the weak; the Fae you think you can trust is your biggest enemy. Some of us will always be playthings for the Seelie, Unseelie, Vampires, and Werewolves. It took me a long time to realize that Allana knows more than she tells me; she guards her secrets well. How many more of us will be hurt before she is satisfied with her place in the supernatural realms? I was a fool to trust her and lost everything because of her quest for power, my mate, my mother, and my home. I am no longer an unsuspecting child; I will get revenge on everyone who has caused me pain, even if it takes the rest of my life.

I called my wife, a forensic specialist, after learning that my in-laws were involved in a car accident. It was on the 80th call that she finally answered, "I'm just trying to celebrate Justin's birthday for him. What's wrong with you? Can you not get jealous over just about anything?" I informed her that Mom, Dad, and sister had died in a car accident, and that she should hurry back to arrange for their funeral. To my surprise, she scoffed at my suggestion and replied, "What does your family's death have to do with me?" She was not involved in the funeral arrangements at all. On top of that, she even falsified evidence for her love interest—the culprit who killed her family—in court as a forensics specialist. Eventually, on the day I informed her of my intention to divorce, she threw a fit. "Patrick, it's just the death of a few of your family members. Justin didn't do it on purpose. It was just an accident. "Moreover, it's because of your parents' and sister's carelessness on the road that led to the accident. Why are you making things difficult for me and insisting on divorce? I've truly misjudged you…" Noticing the indignance in her response, I finally understood. It seemed she had no idea that it was her family that died in the accident all this while.

The night before our wedding, my fiancée let her so-called "best friend" butcher the gown my late mother had sewn, chopping it into a revealing mini dress. I rushed over with the ruined dress in my arms, ready to demand answers: only to catch their voices through the door: "Imagine him expecting me to wear something a dead woman stitched. What a curse!" Through the narrow gap, I saw my distant, frigid fiancée flushed with color, straddling his lap. "What we did at the bridal shop wasn't enough," she murmured. "Tomorrow, walking down the aisle in this tiny dress you made me, it'll be even more exhilarating." Their lips met. My hand froze against the door, and inside, something broke with a soundless crack. If she longed for thrills, I would grant her some.

After five long years of dating, Winona Shaw finally said yes. I was elated, like a scavenger who'd struck gold. I put everything I had into the engagement party, but out of the blue, Winona embraced Claude Landton instead. She even tried to frame me and boot me to jail. I canceled the party and called the cops instead. That made Winona mad, and Claude started panicking. Icily, I said, "Now, calm down. We have a lot of trials to go through. See you in court."

Lily Forte has known her mate since she was born. The Fae Prince, Aolis, realized she was his mate while she was in utero. He has waited patiently for Lily to grow up and reach her 18th birthday so she and her wolf will recognize him as her mate. However, when Lily turns 18, even though she feels the mate bond, she doesn't respond to it, asking Aolis for time. He has always been like a brother, like the other sons of the Guardians. Now, she's supposed to feel differently for Aolis because her wolf says he's her mate? Not only that, but she has never dated another man. She has no idea what it is like to be kissed by someone. Most she-wolves have at least some experience before they meet their mates, but everyone has stayed away from her, knowing her mate had already identified her as his. On a fateful night, she is kissed by another wolf, and realizes that Aolis felt her betrayal. He gives her one week to decide if she wants him. If not, he will find another mate and take over as King. Lily, not realizing the severity of Aolis's ultimatum, doesn't arrive in Araphrya, Aolis's home, until after his deadline. When she does, she realizes he has already left to find his mate. Lily rushes to find him and interrupts his wedding. Lily begs him for another chance but the slight toward the fae causes a rift and war begins. Lorelai wants Aolis and if she can't have him, no one can. Can Lily convince Aolis to choose her as the Queen of his land and his heart, to stand beside him against the dark fae or will Aolis choose a mate and leave Lily alone with her regrets?

On our eighth anniversary, Claire Young announced that she had already registered her marriage with her childhood friend. She took him home, ordering me around as if it was only natural. "Move to another room. Stan loves sunshine." "Stan doesn't like sweets, so don't bake any when you're at home. He'd be upset if he saw it." I kept quiet through it all and bought a ticket to leave. My friend wanted to help me out of the predicament, but she didn't think it was a big deal. "He's just being dramatic again. Let him be—he'd be caving in just a few days." Everyone laughed at that, and quietly made bets as to when I'd come crawling back to Claire's feet. None of them knew I was already inducted into the national weapons program, and that I was really leaving.

The underprivileged student I've been sponsoring suddenly shows up at my birthday party, swaggering in and waving around a pregnancy report. "Look—Pheebs is pregnant with my baby! You'd better be smart and divorce her already!" I point at the report, stunned and confused. "Are you sure it's Phoebe who's pregnant with your child?" Victor Thompson, my beneficiary, smirks proudly as he fiddles with the pregnancy report. "Duh! We conceived the baby last month on our cruise trip!" The entire room falls into a stunned silence. My ex-wife, Phoebe Jackman, has been dead for three years.

"The gods are dead. The bloodlines remain. And she's about to bring it all down." Rowyn Vale grew up on the wrong side of the realm - poor, half-starved, and pissed off at the world. Her fae parents ran relics, sold shadows, and tried to sell her. She's used to surviving. Not exploding with ancient light and accidentally blinding a rich fae girl in the middle of high school. Now she's sentenced to death for a power she didn't ask for. But when a winged, arrogant disaster of a boy crashes through her prison ceiling and drags her into the sky, Rowyn learns the truth: she's not just some broken street fae. She's godblooded. Welcome to Eidolon Academy - a sentient university hidden in a pocket realm where every student is descended from a god, and each year ends in a deadly Trial that can kill you... or awaken something worse. Survive the Trials, and ascend. Fail, and vanish forever. And if the rumors are true? Rowyn isn't just another godblood. She might be the heir of the Godkiller - the one being powerful enough to raise the Pantheon. Let the Trials begin. Let the realm burn Eidolon Academy Book 1

I became the ultimate simp for Shannon Seay, the school's notorious flirt, and everyone assumed I was head over heels for her. When she skipped classes to pick fights or chase thrills, I'd copy notes and homework for her. When she tangled in ambiguous flings with other guys, I'd provide alibis to cover her tracks. For three grueling years, I poured my heart and soul into transforming her into an academic star, securing her spot at a top university. But right before orientation, she dumped me. Towering over me, she declared, "I know you've had a crush on me forever, but you're all books and no spark. Compared to Hunter, you're too rigid. We're done. I'm with him now." The crowd held its breath, anticipating my meltdown. I peeked at my phone, confirming a $50-million transfer, and replied with genuine nonchalance, "Alright, congrats." No one knew my unwavering devotion was purely because her father had paid handsomely for it. Now that the pay had been secured, it was time for me to vanish.