Feyre Painted Novels & Stories

Clarence, the Vampire Prince, fell for me the moment he laid eyes on me. And I fell for him just as hard, just as hopelessly. I accepted his Embrace. The whole dark world knew he loved me more than life itself. He branded the rune of our blood bond directly over his heart. That lasted five centuries. Then I got the video from his new blood doll—a human stripper named Seraphina. She was sprawled naked in his lap, fresh bite marks dotting her throat. Using her own blood, she’d painted a crude sigil right beside the sacred rune meant only for me. And my mate had let her. “Clarence says my young blood is the only thing that makes him feel alive anymore,” she purred. “He says you’re a dead fish in bed, darling Molly. Time for the new generation to take over.” I didn't bother to reply. My fingers were steady as I contacted an ancient witch. “I need a glamour,” I said, my voice even and low. “A perfect human shell. One that will hide everything—my scent, my trail. All of it.”

In a world where power is currency and women are pawns, Ava Campelli has just been sold to the highest bidder through a wedding veil. Born into a legacy of blood and quiet obedience, Ava knew her fate was sealed long before she could dream of escape. When she’s forced to marry Nico Moretti, the cold, ruthless heir to a criminal empire, her life becomes a performance of silence and survival. From the outside, she’s a vision in white. On the inside, she’s breaking. Nico is everything she feared: calculated, controlling, and obsessed with ownership. What begins with a diamond ring and a kiss in front of hundreds quickly descends into possession, manipulation, and brutal expectations behind closed doors. His touch is demanding, his love conditional, and Ava is expected to be the perfect wife—seen, not heard. But behind the carefully painted smile and submissive posture, something dangerous is beginning to stir in Ava. Each cruel word, every forced touch, is a spark. And one day soon, she may burn the whole kingdom down. A story of power, pain, and the quiet beginnings of rebellion—Bound By Blood and Vows is a haunting tale of a girl who learns that surviving is only the beginning and if she can't win his heart, then she will steal it when she leaves.

⚠️ Reader Advisory: This story contains steamy scenes, mature language, and forbidden romance. Recommended for readers 18+ who enjoy emotionally intense and sexually charged love stories with depth. ~ “I’m going to turn every dirty page you’ve ever read into your reality, Teyana.” And Jeremy Carter did. ~ It started with a simple party dare and ended with my legs wrapped around the ever-addictive Jeremy Carter’s waist. I never thought the boy who never noticed the nerdy me in high school, the emotionally unavailable biker god I’d secretly fantasized about, would become my stepbrother. Or that I would find a naked painting of myself hidden in his closet — painted by his own twisted hands. Jeremy is inked sin, raw dominance, and a filthy mouth. I was just the quiet, virgin bookworm, that took solace in dark romance novels… until he dragged me into his dangerous world of racing, rage, and ruin. I should run. I should regret it. But when a man like Jeremy Carter kisses you, there’s no coming back. But what happened when family, friends, and even the campus tried to pull us apart? This is the story of how I got ruined by the one man I might never have… and how I let him.

"Your sister has already been through so much, why can't you let her have this?" "But today was supposed to be my wedding! How can I just stand aside and let her have my mate?" •••••• After four long years, her awaited wedding finally arrives. What Tamara Vladis expected to be a pivotal moment in her life remained so but for all the wrong reasons. Her mate, the future alpha of Crestwood Pack, publicly humiliates her, firmly stating that she cannot be his mate because she is wolfless. In the same breath he shares a deep kiss with her twin, Tiana, declaring her as his luna. Tamara turned to her parents for support, but they had her flimsy excuses, firmly backing the union of her longtime mate and sister. Tamara no longer has a place in Crestwood, she is pressured to leave and accidentally trespasses into Phoenix Dawn territory, the moment she locks eyes with their Alpha her entire world tilts on his axis as the mate bond between them sparks to live. But unfortunately between their families lies a checkered history painted with blood and betrayal. Will this fresh flame that burns them to their core wiping off any rational thought in their heads survive a past fault that birthed present scars? Or will it couple with the overwhelming power awakening within Tamara and consume both of them?

“Three powerful Alphas, one fated she-wolf, and a bond that defies all rules—when darkness threatens to destroy them, only true love can save the day.” On the night of the full moon celebration, Valeria Blackthorn returns to her wolf pack after years of being banished by the Alpha King. However, nothing prepared her for what she stumbles upon— Valeria finds herself irresistibly drawn to three powerful Alphas— each drawn to her, not just by fate but by an undeniable desire too. Unfortunately, Valeria’s return and her newfound controversial mates bring more misfortune than imagined. With the sudden death of the Alpha king and his family, Valeria is painted as a traitor and is forced into hiding, trying to be protected by her mates. As Valeria  battles with her rising emotions, the packs face a looming threat— an exiled Alpha has returned with a deadly ambition to reclaim power, and has his eyes set on Valeria . Caught in a web of passion, rivalry, and betrayal, Valeria  must decide whether to embrace her destiny or risk losing everything she loves. The balance of power—and the survival of the packs—rests in her hands, but with the full moon’s power looming, so does her heart. Will Valeria unlock the power within her to unite the packs and stop the looming danger ahead, or will darkness consume them all as enemies close in from all sides?

This story contains mature themes, explicit romantic content, power imbalance, and emotionally intense situations. It is intended for readers 18+ ⚠️ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "What do you do when the man who ruined your life becomes the only thing you can't stop thinking about?" It started with a slap and ended with my life in shambles. The media painted me as the villain. My scholarship? Gone. My future? Shattered. Now Thomas Knights—billionaire, music god—is a walking red flag, and the reason my life fell apart. But his father? He is more brutal and has me backed into a corner. He offered me a deal: become Thomas's personal assistant, and all my problems would disappear. But there's a catch; I need to spy on his son and report back to him. Yet, their world is ruthless, glamorous, and full of secrets. And Thomas is a destructive taboo, a controlling menace, and completely untouchable. Worse, he sees straight through me. And every day I'm with him, the line between duty and desire blurs. Every secret I learn pulls me deeper into his orbit. The real question isn't whether I'll take the deal. It's whether I'll survive what it demands of me. This isn't a love story. It's a game of survival, obsession, and ruin. And I don't know who will go down first—him or me?

Seer Corvyn once foretold that House Ashveil would produce a daughter who could see the future. I hid the birthmark I was born with on my forehead, yet my younger sister painted a vivid mark on her forehead every single day. Then, a royal decree came, naming her the Crown Prince, Prince Caelen’s fiancée, and I married Prince Aldric, just like I had wanted. For the next five years, I used my ability to foresee the future to help Aldric rise to power. On the night he ascended the throne, I finally wiped away the layers of makeup and told him my secret. However, instead of relief, he flew into a rage. He carved the flesh from my forehead and had me executed. “Leanora, how dare you imitate Rosalind’s birthmark? If you hadn’t chosen me first, she would never have been forced to marry Caelen! She should have been my true queen! For five years, every moment I touched you has disgusted me. You shall die in her place.” When I opened my eyes again, Aldric burst in, cutting off Seer Corvyn mid-sentence. “How can a mark prove that Rosalind is the chosen one?” “I’m willing to use the blank royal decree Father once granted me to marry the Lord Chancellor’s illegitimate daughter, Rosalind Ashveil.”

Miyal Rhax, the warrior king and Alpha of the Crescent Silver Moon pack, once ruled with unwavering strength. But when a killing plague ravaged, turning the dead into hunger monsters, he was overcome by sorrow and corrupted by lies, resulting in a terrible decision. His Luna, Krishna Aswald,one of three legendary witches and descendant of lost Emerald Atlantia, was used as a scapegoat for the pack's pain. The pack, fueled by an ancient fear of magic, turned against her, while Perfera, the cunning daughter of a betrayed servant, seized the opportunity. Disguising her malice as loyalty, she fed Miyal lies that painted Krishna as the source of their doom. Blinded by desperation, Miyal sentenced Krishna to death by fire, shattering both their hearts in the process. As flames engulfed her, Krishna unleashed a power greater than death, vanishing in a blaze of emerald light. Her death brought no salvation—only increased suffering. Miyal realized too late that the true savior had been condemned, while Krishna found refuge with Ignatious West, her former lover and a powerful wizard, in the mystical land of Brunschiere. As the curse deepened, Miyal uncovered Perfera's darker scheme, revealing her as the culprit of the pack's doom. Determined to find Krishna, wanting her back and to seek forgiveness, he faced the daunting truth: could he heal the wounds he had inflicted, and would she trust him again as they confronted an even greater darkness? Or would she choose to live with her first love, Ignatious, and forget Miyal?

I worked at a sales job and felt pretty good about my work. Then, Vivian appeared. She was a new intern with an insatiable curiosity for others’ private affairs. On Valentine’s Day, my husband, Henry Ambrose, bought a million dollars’ worth of bags from me to help me meet my sales target. Just as I left work to meet him for a date, Vivian sent a snide message. [Your Fitbit just logged an extra thousand steps. That’s literally the exact distance to the hotel next door. Nice work, Lily! You close a million-dollar deal and immediately head to the hotel with the client?] I coldly fired back, [If you’re this desperate to stalk people, you should’ve just joined the K-9 unit.] That very night, parcels of adult toys appeared on my doorstep. Vivian had written a nasty post that had gone viral, and things turned out like this! [This Salesgirl Slept With My Client and Stole My Million-Dollar Commission on Valentine’s Day!] A pair of my ripped silk stockings, which I had tossed in the trash, became her “proof” that I had seduced a client during work hours. Vivian was painted as the victim, while I was viciously smeared as a “salesgirl who slept with clients for commissions.” What Vivian did not know was that Henry was actually a leading researcher worth billions. I only took the sales job because I was bored and wanted to experience something new.

In the coastal quiet of Baler, a studio is born—not of architecture, but of intention.* Founded by Yam, a poet whose words cradle pain gently, and Franc, an artist who paints tenderness into walls, the studio becomes a refuge for those learning to stay—with grief, love, longing, and themselves. As visitors arrive, they leave behind more than footprints: a sigh recorded in bamboo, a poem tucked into the “Found Letters” shelf, a mural painted in crooked lines. Through zines, tea, silence, and sketchbooks, the studio teaches softness as revolution. Ren creates the *Window of Soft Returns*, an installation of anonymous voice recordings—each whisper forming a community of echoes. Drew builds the *Staircase With No Wrong Turns*, inviting people to walk through emotions without shame. Franc offers brushstrokes as brave work, and Yam curates writing circles that map healing in half sentences. Together, they host festivals that feel like hugs, and they begin traveling their archive, letting softness cross oceans. Even those who once left—like Miguel—return, discovering that some doors never truly close. Others, like Tala, capture the studio’s sound and turn it into a podcast of breath and becoming. Over seventy chapters, the studio transforms into something larger than itself: a mural of memory, a sanctuary for second chances, a place where return is sacred and voice is proof of survival. In the final bloom, the studio stands not as a monument—but as a reminder: > *“Staying isn’t easy. > But chosen together, > it becomes home.”*