Female Bakugou

Elena Tepes is the strongest female werewolf in all of Europe. Not only that she is the Alpha of her pack but also she is the Alpha Supreme of all Europe. Many males came to challenge her, but no one defeated her in a fight. One day she is called by a werewolf from the Silver Pack, in the Republic of Moldova. He said that the Alpha of his pack has a slave. The law of the werewolves forbids any pack to have slaves. Elena, in the beginning, doesn´t believe but either way, it is her duty to find out if it true or not. When Elena gets to the Silver Pack, she saves the slave from a cruel whipping and realizes that the slave is her mate. But she doesn´t want him. Elena doesn´t want a weak mate, that shivers in fear every time he sees her and stutters when he talks. She wants a strong mate. Elena wants a strong mate because she has a mortal enemy- Mihnea, the vampire. He is strong and cunning, and almost impossible to kill. He made a deal with Hades, and he can´t be killed with ordinary weapons. As long as Mihnea is alive, she won´t accept her mate. One day, while Elena looks into Vladimir´s beautiful green eyes and her heart starts beating fast. Little by little, Elena finds herself more drawn by the pure heart of my mate. And when they share a first kiss, everything changes. She wants him, and she wants him forever. But something happened in Vladimir´s past because he keeps telling Elena he is not worthy of love, that he did something terrible, and innocent blood is on his hands. Will Elena learn to accept and love her mate?

Do I have two wolves inside of me? Check. Smokin' hot two fated mates? Double check. Except they despise each other more than anyone hates Mondays. Dating one means war with the other. But the chemistry? It's off the freaking charts with both. Here's the kicker: my dual wolf curse turns me into a male at night and a female during the day. Reason is; apparently, my Umbra Wolf is male and my Luna Wolf is female. Eighteen is when they are fully awakened and also when shit gets real. Worse, no one told me about this until I turned eighteen and found out myself! A psycho rogue is after me too, and the only way to avoid him is to find my fated mate at the mating ceremony which I am mandated to attend by the Alpha council because of a scandal I accidentally caused. How does one pick between her stepbrother and his enemy? Especially when one is cruel and the other is chillingly creepy. Catch me dodging love triangles, fighting destiny, and maybe getting my heart broken by two hotties at the same time. P.S. If you're into dark romance, reverse harem, suspense that'll keep you guessing, and enough spice to heat up your phone, then buckle up, ‘cause Nimue La Key and her two mates are about to blow your mind.

After my husband topped the wealth rankings, he hired his first love as his personal housekeeper at a high salary. “Quincy, you hail from humble beginnings. I don’t want you embarrassing me in high society, so I specifically brought in Vivian to teach you the rules. From now on, everything you do must be reported to her for approval.” From that moment on, in public, I was the glamorous Mrs. Lane. However, behind closed doors, to even enjoy simple marital moments with my husband I had to write a thousand-word application seeking Vivian’s approval. Then, my adoptive father had a heart attack. I dropped to my knees, begging her to transfer me five hundred thousand dollars. She laughed coldly. “What kind of surgery costs half a million? Stop making excuses to pad your family’s finances.” “This isn’t a small sum. Write a 10,000-word application, and this time it’s denied.” Rage coursed through me, my body trembling uncontrollably as I spun toward Tyler and fell to my knees, begging him to save my father’s life. There wasn’t even a flicker of emotion on his face. “Vivian did nothing wrong. I know you’re still clinging to your old poor habits even after getting rich, but my money doesn’t grow on trees.” “This time, your father’s medical treatment will be put on hold as a lesson. Next time, don’t blame me if he’s kicked out of the VIP ward.” In the end, my adoptive father died on the operating table due to the delay in treatment. Completely disheartened, I finally asked Tyler for a divorce.

On our wedding anniversary night, my husband, Lucian Moore, comes home with a seven-year-old orphan named Chloe Martin. He even hands her the necklace he bought me for our anniversary and lets her play with it like a toy. Because of her, my son, Ryan Moore, shouts at me for the first time. "You're a bad woman! I don't want you to be my mommy!" I watch the three of them sitting together, warm and cozy, and I say nothing. Instead, I buy a ticket to leave the country. At first, they think I'm just acting out and will come home in a few days. But when they return from Feanland after celebrating Chloe's birthday, they find out I've joined a ten-year classified research project and will not come back again. At that moment, they fall apart.

"Kylie, this year's annual bonus is evaluated based on two factors: performance and peer reviews. "Since your team never participates in company social events, your coworkers all gave you poor ratings. That's why this is your year-end bonus." Around me, the male employees were receiving bonuses in the tens of thousands. And yet, the women I led—developers who had worked for over ten years and built every core system the company relied on—each received nothing more than a coffee gift card and a mug engraved with the company logo. I laughed out loud. Then I turned and walked into my office and submitted resignation requests for the entire technical team. The manager, Preston Alec, sneered. "Good riddance. AI can replace women like you who only know how to have children." A few days later, the very people who had mocked me were standing in front of me, begging me to come back. I smiled in return. "AI conquers everything, doesn't it?"

In this world, there are more ways to deal with a problem than the problem itself. That applies just as well to cheating men. Rich men, especially, will go to absurd lengths just to have more women in their lives. There's no trick too low, no scheme too shameless. Take my boss, for example. He handed over his stunning mistress to me. Honestly, I suspected he couldn't perform in bed, because she came into my bedroom night after night.

At sixty-five, I got served divorce papers. The same day, my husband Sebastian — decked out in his wedding suit, of all things — popped a handful of sleeping pills in a suicide attempt. For years, we were the perfect couple. The kind of pair neighbors whispered about with envy. I couldn't wrap my head around it. The divorce. The pills. None of it made sense. Not until I found the photo and letter in his pocket.

Herbert Fischer lets his precious childhood sweetheart dump scalding stew all over me as everyone watches. Worse, he tells me to apologize, all because I said one harsh sentence to her. Tears stream down my face as I ask him, "Is my life worth less than a hair on her head?" He snorts. "Stop overthinking. It's just hot stew—you won't die from a few burns."

By year four of our marriage, Scott had picked up a college girl—Gigi. Bright, beautiful, full of life. She had him, a billionaire, eating street food and chasing after her favorite esports player. Scott called. "Not coming home. Watching Joel Arnoult's match." Beside him, Gigi scoffed. "That boring old woman—does she even know who Joel Arnoult is?" They had no clue. The second the call ended, Joel had me pinned in the back of a dimly lit car. His teeth grazed my neck—sharp, teasing, a little painful. "Leila, if I win, how are you gonna reward me?"

Due to one phone call, Carl Lorde left me behind in a deserted area on the highway, even though I had been pregnant for four months. I walked to a rest area to ask for help, but in the end, I was unable to keep the baby. I broke down and called Carl, but he kept rejecting my calls. The next day, his childhood friend posted an intimate photo of them lying side by side in bed, with a caption. [With just one call, you’d come over to my side no matter what.] Everyone was waiting for me, Carl’s girlfriend, to make a joke of myself. However, I just wiped away my tears, liked the post, and commented, [Congratulations, you two are a match made in the trash dump. I hope you rot in hell together.]