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The ninety-ninth time my Alpha mate blocked our mind-link, I was in the final stages of Wolf Spirit Decay. I dragged my broken body into the Council Hall. The cold marble steps grated against the soles of my feet, and with every step, a tearing pain ripped through my chest. "I am here to petition to leave the pack." The council official studied my pale, thin form with a pitying gaze and asked softly, "Are you certain, Miss? You would be giving up the pack's protection." Since childhood, my wolf has been unstable, making me frail. Ever since my father brought home my adopted sister, Lydia, when I was ten, my parents have treated me like a disgrace to the family. Despite being his marked mate for years, Caleb never promised me a Luna ceremony. He rarely even took me to pack gatherings. As a result, hardly anyone in the pack knew who I was. "It doesn't matter," I said, my voice calm despite the effort. "I will be dead in three days."

Book one of the zodia series introduces Lilliana Pendragon and Drake Thorn, two best friends who have deep unrealized feelings for each other. And Lance Stallion, a man who is betrothed to Lilliana and has a nasty temper when things do not go his way.Who will Lilliana find herself with in the end and can she unlock the secret of her family within herself to be able to find true happiness, before it is too late?'latin - 'Quamdiu tales esse potes. Cum autem terminos tuos sentio agi. Quum senseris tibi evigilare faciatis intra rem, et tamen non audiam. Princeps autem Draco excitavit!’

My husband, Kieran, is the heir to the Thompson family. In the three years of our arranged marriage, he has never once touched me. I told myself he was just cold and guarded, that I could find a way into his heart, little by little. Then one day he came home drunk, pinned me to the bed for the first time, and called out his first love's name. "Camilla, all these years... I've thought of you every second of every day..." That was when I knew. All the passion and love he possessed was already spent on another woman. I pushed him away, burned every photo of us, and went to a high-end club in New York full of handsome male models. Nine months later, I walked into the airport with my newborn baby in my arms. Later, Kieran searched the world for me, his eyes bloodshot. He asked in a trembling voice why I never told him I was pregnant, why I wouldn't let him see our baby. I glanced at him and gave a light, breezy smile. "Who said the baby was yours?"

In my past life, my mate Marcus ran off to the forest to make love with my best friend Scarlett, who was eight-month pregnant. That’s when they'd be surrounded by a pack of rogue wolves. Scarlett, heavy with child, started bleeding heavily. Both of them desperately called for the Border Guard. As the Chief Warrior, I had risked everything to fight those rogue wolves. But Scarlett still died along with her unborn pup. My mate Marcus led others to accuse me of using my position for personal revenge. He personally severed both my hands with a silver blade. "A warrior without morals like you deserves to burn in hell!" he snarled. But I remembered clearly—when I drove off the rogues and got the pack healer to Scarlett, she barely had a scratch on her. Finally, Scarlett's parents arrived. I begged them to examine her body and investigate the truth. Instead, they reported to Alpha that I had neglected my duties. They claimed I was high on wolfsbane while guarding the border. Alpha exiled me for fifteen years. With both hands severed, I had no way to fight or shift properly. I survived by begging scraps from neighboring territories. Fifteen years later, I returned to the pack. I saw my mate Marcus walked through the airport's first-class terminal with Scarlett and their son. They were using my inheritance to fund their luxury vacation to the Maldives. They spotted me. Without hesitation, they pushed me into a silver pit to destroy all evidence. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day Scarlett faked her death. This time, I took one look at the scene and declared them beyond saving. I told my assistant to send them to bury them directly.

During the eighth month of my pregnancy, I was pushed and fell. This caused me to have a miscarriage. In order to keep me alive, my womb would be removed. Just when I was experiencing excruciating pain, I accidentally overheard the conversation between my husband and the doctor. "Mr. Lawson, Ms. White is actually in stable condition now. Are you sure you want us to remove her womb?" "This is the only way that she will truly love my and Riley's child. Riley and I will never be together, but I'll give everything that I have to our only child. Mandy already has me, isn't that enough?" After hearing their conversation with my own ears, I finally realized that the person that I loved so much was just a liar.

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“I can’t believe you just said that!” I burst out, staring at Ethan like he’d sprouted twenty extra heads. “You want me to... to pretend to be your girlfriend? What, like, fake holding hands? Fake kissing? Fake everything?” He didn’t blink as his nonchalant gaze met mine, a hint of a smirk playing on those lips. “Yes, Riley. That’s usually how fake dating works.” All Harper Adams wanted was to get through one evening pretending to be her best friend on a blind date. But when her date turned out to be Ethan Reynolds—her infuriatingly handsome CEO—things quickly spiraled out of control. Now, she’s caught in a whirlwind of fake romance to help him dodge his family’s relentless matchmaking schemes. Between awkward office run-ins and public displays of “affection” at high-society galas, Harper is discovering that fake dating might be a lot harder than she thought—especially when her feelings for Ethan start to feel all too real. With secrets piling up and hilariously disastrous moments at every turn, Harper’s left wondering: can she survive this charade, or will her fake love life blow up in her face?

On the first day of work, the company president said that I looked like his long-lost daughter and gave me a salary of 100 thousand dollars, on the condition that I ate together with his wife every weekend. Once my boyfriend heard this, he yelled at me in front of my colleagues, “How could you believe such a cheap lie?! It’s just an excuse for him to pay you for dirty favors! If your mother learned that you got yourself a sugar daddy after graduation, she’d jump off a building!” So, I rejected the president’s offer. Someone told the department manager that my boyfriend and I insulted the president, and he fired us. My boyfriend was really shocked by this. He stayed at my place and loafed around instead of working. When he no longer had any money left, he asked my mother for money. After that, he asked me to sell my organs. After I said no, he knocked me out with chloroform and sent me to an unlicensed clinic. The doctor there did not use the standard procedures, so I died from the pain. When I opened my eyes again, I returned to the day I met the president. This time, I shouted, “Sir, you look just like my father, even though we are not related at all!”

I’d been dead a month before my family even noticed. It wasn’t concern that brought them to that realization. It was my silence after the so-called “dinner” with Adam Rossi, the infamous mafia boss. My father scoffed like always,“She probably shacked up with that bastard. Too busy spreading her legs to pick up the damn phone.” My sister texted me a photo of them smiling under the Christmas tree, ornaments twinkling like nothing was wrong. Bitch, she wrote. You better talk Mr. Rossi into working with Dad, or you might as well be dead already. And my mother—once the softer one—was now colder than the frost on their windows. “I told you, we should’ve sent Gia to charm Mr. Rossi. Serena always screws things up.” They didn’t think I would die. Not until they found my body—broken, rotten, and forgotten—in Adam Rossi’s basement.

Three months after my husband, Josiah Erikson, disappears in a skiing accident, I spot him in a bar. He's laughing freely with an arm slung casually around his "best friend", Monica Jones' shoulders. "Good thing you came up with the idea. I'd almost forgotten what freedom feels like." One after another, his buddies clink glasses with him and ask about when he plans to reappear. He looks down and thinks about it before saying, "In a week. I'll show up once she's gone completely crazy searching for me." Standing in the shadows, I watch him savor his freedom, then call my friend who works at the state vital records office.