Frozen Xmas

Can Love Happen Twice? Yes! Love is a beautiful feeling that can bring us joy and happiness. It is a magical experience that can make us feel alive and complete. However, when love fails, it can also bring us pain, disappointment, and even despair. It is normal to feel that love can only happen once, especially after a heart-wrenching breakup. Sometimes we fall in love with a person so deeply that after a breakup we are totally shattered. The same thing happened with Sebastian Russo when his first mate betrayed him with his best friend. His heart has been frozen since then. He could not feel for a woman. He had been drowning in the pit of darkness until one day, Alessandra King showed up in his life like a ray of first light brightening his dark life. She succeeded in awakening his emotions which have been locked for a long time. They both find their true love in their second chance.  Alessandra's past was not an ideal one. She loved her mate and died at the hands of her own sister who loves her mate. Destiny gave her another chance to find herself four years back. She wanted to take revenge on her mate who betrayed her and decided to change her fate. But her life took a ninety-degree turn when Sebastian's ex-mate came back with his heir. Will Alessandra be able to get love in this life?

All because I opened a window to air out the room, my husband’s childhood sweetheart, Celine Ashcroft, caught a cold. In a fit of rage, my husband, Ronan Blackwood, had his men bind me and drag me down to the ice cellar despite my being five months pregnant. "Don’t think that just because you’re carrying my child, you can bully Celine. If even a single hair on her head is harmed, I’ll make you repay it a hundredfold!" Shivering violently from the cold, I knelt through tears, begging for forgiveness. I promised that from now on I would serve his precious sweetheart well to atone, that I would never again let her suffer even the slightest harm. He only gave a cold order to seal the cellar, saying I needed to be taught a lesson so it would be burned into my memory. A week later, when Celine finally recovered from her cold, he finally remembered me in the cellar. "Vesper, have you truly realized your mistake? As long as you agree to kneel and apologize to Celine immediately, I’ll spare you." What he didn’t know was that by then, I had already frozen stiff in that ice cellar. And the child he had treasured so dearly no longer showed even the faintest sign of life.

They killed me. Betrayed me. Buried me like I was nothing. I was Sera Nightshade, Luna of the Crescent Moon Pack, the most powerful werewolf territory in North America. For five years, I stood beside Damien Blackwood, my Alpha mate, believing in our bond, our love, our future. I gave him everything: my loyalty, my body, my soul. On the night of our official mating ceremony, with the full moon as our witness and the entire pack gathered to celebrate, he made his choice. Her. Vivian Cross, his childhood sweetheart, his secret mistress, the she-wolf he'd been hiding in the shadows for years. In front of everyone, he rejected our mate bond and claimed her instead. The pain of a broken mate bond should have killed me instantly, but I survived. Barely. That's when things got worse. They couldn't let me live. A rejected Luna who knew too many pack secrets, who had too much support, who might challenge his rule. So Damien and Vivian made sure I'd never speak again. They poisoned me, wrapped my body in silver chains, and threw me off Widow's Peak into the frozen river below. I felt every second of my death. The silver burning through my veins. The ice-cold water filling my lungs. The darkness swallowing me whole.

At nine months pregnant, I suffered an unexpected miscarriage. My husband, Graham Pearson, fought back his own grief as he comforted me. He would whisper to me every day, trying to soothe my shattered heart, "Whitney, we will have children again someday. Our little angel was here for a while, and next time, we'll make sure we hold onto them..." Under Graham's careful care, I slowly began to pull myself out of the numb fog I'd been trapped in. But then, a month later, I overheard him talking to one of his friends. "If Whitney finds out the baby didn't actually die and that you've let Cassidy raise him, don't you think she'll flip out? You've worked so hard to get where you are; you can't let this mess it all up." Graham casually flicked his cigarette, his voice almost detached as he waved a hand dismissively. "Cassidy can't have kids, but she loves children. If this baby brings her joy, it's a blessing for the child, too. "I might never get the chance to be with Cassidy, but letting her raise my son, in some way, feels like a kind of fulfillment..." The truth hit me like a frozen wave, paralyzing me in place. It turned out this whole ordeal had been part of Graham's plan from the start.

“Sign them. Now!” He threw the papers across the bed and they fluttered in front of me, taunting me with words boldly spelled on them. Divorce. My blood had fizzled out. I refused to believe this was happening. I had never filled myself with delusions of Ezekiel ever loving me, but I had truly believed we could both tolerate our obligations to each other. Perhaps I was just blinded by love. “You're breaking this marriage because of Ellen? Because of my sister?” **** As though the death of her grandmother and a painful divorce weren’t enough torture for one day, Camille Manor stands frozen in the face of a family annulment. Letting go of her past life, she leaves for the States where she aims to start life afresh and raise her children not even the father knew about. Things change when she receives a shocking letter that changes everything. Now, after four years of staying away, Camille must return to London to face the lurking shadows of her past. But with her ex-husband back in her life, will her plans for revenge go smoothly? In the midst of exposing buried family secrets, she struggles to tame the feelings she still has for Zeke despite his betrayal while hiding his paternity over her children. Meanwhile, she takes down the Manor’s one by one in a bid to reclaim the honor that was once hers.

I sold my body to a Werewolf King to save my sister's life. The contract was simple: I become the silent, obedient wife of Kaelen, the most ruthless Alpha in the city, for five years. In return, he pays for the cure that will save her. He is a monster of ice and power, a king who rules from a skyscraper throne. I am just a human, a pawn in a game I don't understand. He thinks he owns me. He lays down the rules with a voice like frozen steel: Don't touch me. Don't ask questions. And never, ever look me in the eye. But the first time his skin brushes mine, a searing energy erupts between us. His cold control shatters, and for a single, terrifying second, his eyes flash with feral gold. He shoves me away like I’ve burned him, his snarl echoing through our gilded cage, "Get out!" Now, I'm trapped in his world of deadly pack politics and ancient magic. He's cruel, distant, and yet his gaze follows my every move, burning with a possessive fire that contradicts every word he says. I’ve just discovered the dangerous truth he’s been hiding: I am not just his purchased bride. I am his fated mate. And the powerful enemy hunting us has just found out that the key to destroying the Werewolf King… is me.

I'd been "married" to Zachary for two years—until I tried applying for a loan and the bank's system flagged someone else as his legal wife. Our wedding? Just a private show. The real marriage license had his name next to hers. So yeah. I wasn't the wife. I was the other woman. Crushed, I went home—only to hear Zachary talking to his friend, Ethan, by the door. "Man, watching you stress is exhausting," Ethan said. "You clearly love Sierra. So why marry Cathryn?" Zachary looked torn. "At first, she was just a stand-in. But when she left, I couldn't stop thinking about her. So I brought her back—as my assistant." He paused, then muttered, "I can't live without Sierra. But I can't let go of Cathryn either. So I gave Sierra my love in public and kept Cathryn hidden with the title. That's fair, right?" I stood frozen, heart splitting open. He loved us both. Me—his childhood sweetheart. Her—the hidden wife. I thought I was the one. Turns out, I was just the game. He didn't break my heart. He shattered my whole world. But I didn't cry. I didn't scream. I walked away. And started planning two things.

My father suffered a heart attack and collapsed. Emergency treatment required the installation of a cardiac stent. I asked my husband to approve an expense of 10 thousand dollars for the surgery. Cameron Lister, the CEO, refused coldly, "The company and family accounts have been frozen recently because of a major project. Your father has medical insurance, so just use a cost-effective domestic stent for now." He was the sole administrator of all the bank cards in my family. His reply made me sorrowfully realize something. Even though I was a genius architectural designer with an annual income of 600 thousand dollars, I was still not worthy of choosing a better life-saving device for my own father. It was a Twitter post forwarded by a colleague, freshly and gleefully posted by the company intern Wendy. [Cameron is so nice. I just said I liked painting, and he gave me a million dollars to organize an art exhibition. I love him so much!] I looked at my father lying on an extra bed in the hospital corridor, groaning in pain, and then looked at the photo of them sweetly embracing each other. I finally understood that Cameron had perhaps never truly loved me. He had only treated me as a stepping stone for his soaring career, and as a tool for him to exploit without limits. 'If this is what you want, Cameron, then don't blame me for being ruthless,' I said inwardly.

My dad is a fan of tough love parenting. When I was a kid, there was a time when I obtained full marks on two subjects. But he told me, "Your grades don't mean anything in life. If you were a true man, you'd leap down five floors without batting an eyelash." Some time later, I was awarded for my act of bravery. But Dad scoffed in my face. "Not even a hair is harmed on your head. Why should you be awarded anyway?" I thought Dad wanted me to go through more training in life. On Christmas Eve, he ditched me on a snowy mountain under the guise of wanting me to go through more training. He didn't give me a tent or a lighter. Later on, Dad even brags about his parenting method to his relatives and friends. "A real man should survive and thrive in a desperate situation! I told Julian that he can forget about being my son if he can't even make his way back to the summit!" But the red dot on the GPS tracker installed in his phone hasn't moved for the past three hours. The truth is, I've already frozen to death in the mountains. Trapped in my fist is a scrap of paper detailing the SOS number that Dad had torn apart earlier. Meanwhile, my soul is currently floating above the dining table while watching Dad brag about his tough love parenting.

The Garcia family's notorious illegitimate son — violent, obsessive, and dangerously unstable — had sent out a public marriage summons. One of us, my sister or I, was to become his bride. My father, with his career in ruins and his influence dwindling, had no choice but to agree. In desperation, I begged my boyfriend Eric Jordan to return home and make our engagement official. He did rush back, travel-worn and anxious — but only to ask for my sister's hand in marriage. Shattered, I demanded to know why. Eric frowned, his voice icy. "You're just a foster daughter of the Lynch family. You've eaten their food, lived under their roof for years. And if it weren't for Willa, you would've frozen to death on the street. Now's your chance to repay her. Don't be ungrateful." I refused to stay silent. He shoved me aside in frustration. "I told you — Willa and I are only pretending. Once she's out of danger and that lunatic forgets about the proposal, we'll divorce. I'll come back for you. However, stop embarrassing yourself like this — it's pathetic." What Eric did not know was… Willa Lynch escaped the marriage. However, I did not. Later, on the day of the wedding, as the bridal car passed the Jordan family estate, I looked out the window — and locked eyes with Eric. His face turned pale as a sheet.