Novel & Cerita Feyre Ring

18+ A BANISHED OMEGA, A TRAFFICKING RING, & A RUTHLESS LYCAN KING! 19 years old Brielle Warren has never had life easy for her. Right from birth and all through her teenage life, she has been scorned by the pack members, who hates her father, the cruel Alpha King who rules over them. However following his tragic death, Brielle is soon banished from the kingdom and she is sold to slave traders by her father's best friend Blacko Shawn. Auctioned as a sex slave, Brielle’s life changes for the worst when she is bought by a ruthless Lycan King - Alpha Darius, a man with the same attribute as her horrible father, and her life changes for the worst... ....... After the death of his first love Eve, Alpha Darius changed drastically. Obsessively attracted to women, who look exactly like Eve, he buys them, takes the ones that matches his desires and treats them as submissives. There is one rule though, they are never to fall in love with him and vice-versa. Everything changes when he comes into contact with Brielle, at the auction ring, and then comes the realization that she is his second chance mate. Will he finally be able to fall in love with this mysterious green eyed woman? Will he let his cold heart open once more to the warm hands of love? Well, let’s find out!

On the day I donated my kidney, I never thought my wife, Rebecca Tanner, would cut open her own heart and confess her regrets. After all, she had staged her own death in a bombing, all so she and Mason Sanders could test my loyalty. All she left me was two billion in gambling debt and a contract selling me into slavery. The creditor said they would leave her body in the grave and spare it from being fed to the hyenas. But to do that, I had to sign a contract with my blood and become their pet from then on. After that, I was locked in an iron cage beneath an underground fighting ring. By day, they chained me up and forced me to lick the blood from the winners' shoes. At night, they injected me with drugs and threw me into the fighting ring, turning me into a living toy for the wealthy to bet on. One broken rib doubled the stakes. One lost tooth added another ten thousand dollars. When I heard that my parents had been stripped and thrown into the mouth of a volcano alive, I broke completely. Covered in blood, I snapped the iron chain and rushed to the volcano. Instead, I found my "dead" wife gently lighting Mason's cigarette. Mason puffed out a ring of smoke and sneered. "We still have ten seconds left on the bet, Rebecca. You've lost."

She wore his brother’s ring… but carried his child. One reckless night shattered every rule. Now, she’s the CEO’s assistant by day, his forbidden obsession by night — and hiding the secret that could destroy them both. If the truth comes out, he risks his family, his empire, and his name. But the deeper he falls, the harder it is to let her go. A brother’s fiancée. A dangerous affair. A baby that changes everything. Some sins can be forgiven. Others start wars. Which one will this love ignite?

My grandmother only knows how to draw one thing—infants. They're ugly, but people line up to buy the paintings. I watch as she takes those women into unlit rooms. Then, their bloodcurdling screams will ring out. Oddly enough, they always thank my grandmother when they're leaving. One day, I finally find out what exactly my grandmother paints. I discover the truth when I see an infant crawl out of one of the women's bellies—it looks just like the one my grandmother has painted.

Loraine Winehouse is a married woman, but she’s struggling to keep her own husband to herself. Jack Winehouse is every woman’s dream, but the ring on his finger keeps him chained to a life he’s not sure he wants. He loves women, but duty comes first—and that includes Loraine. But what happens when the air suddenly shifts, and Loraine becomes the very woman he can’t stop craving? Will Jack finally see her as his wife? Or will Loraine have to fight for their marriage the only way she knows how... by seducing her own billionaire husband?

With only an hour left until the concert began, every trending topic across the internet was dominated by a single headline. [Breaking: Rising Star Tiffany Burgess to Propose to Her Manager After Ten Years of Romance, Leaving Fans in Awe.] This proposal was not just a personal milestone; it was the centerpiece of our company's most ambitious PR campaign of the year and the culmination of a love story between Tiffany and me. Then, in the fire escape, I bumped into Tiffany, dressed in her wedding gown, locked in a passionate kiss with a young man. "Wayne, let me explain," she pleaded. "Explain what?" I snorted. "That just before our proposal, you're sneaking around with another man? The proposal is live-streamed to millions, with thousands of media outlets eagerly awaiting the announcement." I slammed the engagement ring down onto the table in front of her. "After the encore tonight, you'll either propose to me on that stage, or you'll be ruined, both in reputation and career!" Her fists clenched, but in the end, she gritted her teeth and grabbed the box. "Fine." Under the spotlight, she stood before me in her wedding dress, pulling out the ring. But instead of turning to me, she held the ring up toward the guest seating area, where her true love sat. "Wayne, thank you for helping me reach the stars," she declared. "But tonight, I'm going to chase my moon." The crowd erupted in shock and confusion. In a single instant, I became the laughingstock—the unwitting prop in her grand romantic gesture. My heart shattered the moment she reached him.

Vanessa Brooks was the kind of woman the world bowed to. Old money. Chandeliers. Every circle worshipped her—until Julian Frost decided she was guilty. He had loved her once. Or so she believed. But when murder by jealous rage became the charge, he didn't defend her. He testified. He stood in that courtroom and watched them drag her away in chains, his eyes colder than the steel on her wrists. Three years inside. Concrete walls. Thin blankets. Fists in the dark. They broke three ribs. Split her lip so many times she forgot how to smile. The magazine-cover beauty learned to sleep with her back to the wall, one eye open. When the gates opened, Vanessa walked out with nothing but the clothes on her back and a heart too dead for hatred. She left. She buried the name Julian Frost like a corpse. But Julian wasn't done. The moment he saw her on another man's arm—a ring that wasn't his—something inside him snapped. Cold indifference curdled into obsession. He tore her engagement apart. Dragged her back. Forced a ring onto her finger and built a prison from a marriage certificate. Vanessa endured in silence. No tears. No screams. Just divorce papers, slid across his desk, again and again. The third time, Julian ripped them in half. His voice was ragged—a king reduced to begging. "Divorce? Over my dead body."

I went through 100 hormone shots for him—just to finally get pregnant. Five years begging those shots to work—all for Rafe Morello. The Don with ice in his veins... but also the guy who used to wipe sweat off my forehead in the middle of the night. Everyone thought we were goals. Then I handed over my lab results, and the nurse paused, blinking up at me. "Sorry, what's your relationship to Rafe Morello? There's already a pregnancy under his wife's name." I froze. Carmela Vitale. His dead brother's wife. Spouse listed: Rafe Morello. Breathing? Suddenly optional. No tears. No drama. I just slid off my ring and tucked it into my bag. Then I called the number buried at the bottom of my drawer. My voice? Freakishly calm. "Yeah. Three days. Pick me up." It wasn't about revenge. I left because I finally got it—some people, you gotta cut loose if you ever wanna stop bleeding. Three days later, he walked into a silent bedroom. On the nightstand: my wedding ring, the signed divorce papers, and a copy of the ultrasound. He sat on the floor and just... kept rubbing that ring. Regret doesn't knock. It floods. And that night, it drowned every lie he thought he could get away with. That was when he finally figured it out—love could wreck a person worse than hate ever could.

I'm the best plastic surgeon in the industry. Hendrick Twain is a regular customer of mine who has gotten his manhood enlarged nine times via surgery. But after I performed the latest surgery on him, he decides to linger around in my clinic instead of leaving. He keeps showing off his brand-new luxury watch while gloating to me, "Isn't this watch pretty, Dr. Yard? Winona was the one who gifted it to me." Upon noticing my lack of reaction, Hendrick approaches with a smile on his face. Then, he lowers his voice. "What's the use of preserving your chastity, anyway? Winona prefers to be with a plastic hunk like me, who's gone through nine manhood enlargement procedures, than be with you, Mr. Au Naturale." As I stare at Hendrick's face, which has gone under the knife countless times for minor adjustments, I remember the excuses Winona Grahm made to my face every night to avoid going home. Just the memory makes my gut churn in disgust. All of my grievances and disgust turn into ice at that moment. Finally, I take the wedding ring off my ring finger and place it on the desk gently. Then, I grab my phone and dial the number, which I haven't called in the past three years. "Dad." I sound eerily calm on the phone. "Since Winona thinks marriage is nothing but a joke to her, then there's no need for the Grahm family to continue existing in this world."

The day before we are supposed to go abroad to get our marriage registered, George Anderson slips a five-carat diamond ring onto my ring finger. "Geri, once you wear this, you'll be Mrs. Anderson for the rest of your life." Before I even have time to feel moved, his tone suddenly shifts. "But I've already canceled tomorrow's flight and asked for a refund. Let's put off the registration for now." He slowly turns the rosary beads on his wrist, speaking as if it's the most natural thing in the world. "Mia's depression has relapsed. She's threatening to jump off a building. The only thing that can calm her down is getting a marriage certificate with her. "I have to go register my marriage with her right now. If she finds out I married you abroad, she'll lose her mind." I freeze and stare at him in disbelief. However, he ruffles my hair with eyes full of indulgence and helplessness. "Be good. It's just a piece of paper. Once her condition is stable, we'll have our wedding. If you really want to go to Frosh Isle, just join a tour group yourself." I watch as his figure retreat in a hurry and touch my lower abdomen. Then, I tear the prenatal checkup report for the twins in my bag into pieces. Next, I make the call for my final confirmation of starting the overseas study program. I no longer intend to see the aurora in Frost Isle with George.