Glass No Kamen

Nachdem meine Zwillingsschwester Harper gestorben war, hasste mich mein Alpha-Gefährte zehn lange Jahre. Ein ganzes Jahrzehnt lang war ich seine Luna, und ich versuchte auf jede erdenkliche Weise, gut zu ihm zu sein. Eines Tages sagte er zu mir: „Wenn du mich wirklich um jeden Preis zufriedenstellen willst, dann stirb doch einfach.“ Als also ein Lastwagen auf mich zuraste, rührte ich mich keinen Zentimeter. Ich hätte niemals erwartet, dass Noah mich im letzten Moment zur Seite stoßen würde, um mich zu retten. Er wurde dabei schwer verletzt. Kurz bevor er starb, sah er mich an und flüsterte: „Charlotte, wenn ich dir nie begegnet wäre, wäre alles besser gewesen.“ Zu Noahs Beerdigung kamen alle Ältesten und sämtliche Mitglieder des Rudels. „Ich hätte Noah Harper als seine Luna wählen lassen sollen. Ich bereue es, ihn damals gezwungen zu haben, dich zu nehmen. Du hast ihn getötet!“ Noahs Mutter war von Trauer überwältigt. Auch Noahs Vater sagte: „Weißt du eigentlich, dass Noah dir dreimal das Leben gerettet hat? Er war ein so gutherziger Alpha. Warum bist nicht du gestorben?“ Alle auf der Beerdigung starrten mich voller Vorwürfe an. Am Ende wurde ich von der Trauerfeier hinausgeworfen, verloren und völlig verzweifelt. Drei Jahre später kehrte ich mithilfe einer Hexe durch ihren Zauber in die Vergangenheit zurück. Dieses Mal hatte ich eine Entscheidung getroffen. Ganz gleich, was passiert: Ich würde niemals wieder Noahs Luna werden.

At the ceremony where my father, Robert Clarke, is promoted to the position as the pack elder, my mate, Alpha Ethan Thornfield, raises the wine glass in his hand while smiling at him. "Elder Robert, there's this question which has been bothering me for the longest time. Does shamelessness run in the Clarke family's genetics? Otherwise, how are you able to raise a she-wolf as stubborn and defiant as Isabella who keeps pestering me the whole time?" Dad's wine glass is suspended in mid-air. All the wolves turn to look at us. I place the napkin on the table before meeting Ethan's gaze calmly. "Stop barking like a mad dog, Ethan. I agree to sever our mate bond. That way, you and that mistress of yours can finally get together." Ethan replies softly, "It's wonderful to see you making that decision with a sound mind." On the night the ceremony ends, a mate bond severance agreement, which is prepared in advance, is passed to me. Silently, I drop my signature on the last page of the document. Ethan and that Omega, Chloe Stonehart, have started their affair a year ago. He started forcing me to sever our mate bond six months ago. Since he craves freedom that much, I shall grant it to him. I just hope that he won't regret his decision at all when he loses everything he treasures.

At a gathering, I discover that the guy my best friend, Rachel Jost, secretly has a crush on has slipped something into her drink. When he brings the glass over to her, I deliberately knock it over, spilling the spiked wine and saving her life. He storms out in anger. The very next day, he announces his engagement to someone else. Rachel comes to me in a rage, convinced that I sabotaged her out of jealousy. "Stella Leigh, if you hadn't interfered, I would've already slept with him! The one he wants to marry would've been me! You just couldn't stand seeing me happy! You ruined my shot at love, so you'll pay for it with your life!" She pushes me off a high building. I fall to my death, my body reduced to a pulp that is beyond recognition. When I open my eyes again, I am back on the day of that gathering. Rachel is sitting next to me, stealing adoring glances at the man across from her. The next moment, she turns to glare at me and warns me not to meddle with vicious eyes. Seems like she is reborn, too. But what she doesn't know is that the man she secretly loves has always despised her for being obsessed with him. What he added to that glass of wine isn't some aphrodisiac—it is something that can kill her.

In the VIP lounge of an underground casino, Maeve, the Falcone family's princess, had been plied with too much hard liquor. Fueled by alcohol, someone goaded her into revealing the most shameless thing she'd ever done to win over the Don. She swirled her glass, pointed at me dealing cards behind the table, and threw her head back with a laugh. "Seven years ago, when Declan was in a coma after a shootout, I took his private phone. And I deleted the distress message that bitch sent him. Every last trace of it. Then I replied in his name: You're a burden. Go die." "You'll never guess what happened next. That idiot stood outside the safe house all night in a downpour, like a stray dog. I almost died laughing…" The room erupted in crude laughter. Only the man enthroned at the head of the table remained silent. The crystal whiskey glass in his hand shattered with a sharp crack. Blood mixed with the amber liquor, trickling over the veins on the back of his hand before dripping onto the carpet. His murderous, bloodshot eyes were locked on me. I calmly dealt the last hole card in front of him and offered a clean, white silk handkerchief. "Don Declan, you should wipe your hand. Blood on the felt is bad luck." After all, some stains never wash out.

Ann’s father Joe brought her step-mother and step-sister home immediately after Ann’s mother died. Like Cinderella, Ann had hard time dealing with these two new family members. One day, Ann drank a glass of cocktail which was brought by step-mother to her, and she became unconscious soon after that. When woke up the next morning, Ann found herself naked in a hotel room. Besides, there was blood on the sheet. What happened the night before? What would happen to her next? Ann was confused.

A single line of code was all it took to catch a monster’s attention. After infiltrating the world’s most secure tech empire, a brilliant young hacker, Elliot Lane, finds himself taken—not to jail—but to the glass penthouse of Timothy Blackwood, a cold, calculating billionaire. Timothy doesn’t rage. He doesn’t threaten. He studies. He claims. He obsesses. What begins as punishment becomes possession… and what begins as control slowly turns into something far more dangerous. A desire neither of them is ready to admit.

My mother's honey shop served only women, and she sold only one type of honey. The honey was contained in small glass jars, and it had an eerie name—Heart-Eroding Honey. Whenever women came to buy honey, my mother would personally lead them through the shop and into the mysterious beehive room in the backyard. Shortly after the door was closed, there would always be faint, suppressed moans coming from inside. I never knew whether it was from pain or satisfaction. However, when the women reemerged, they would all have rosy faces and radiant smiles, as if they had been completely nourished.

After a mysterious fire destroys her life, Elena Rawlings is forced into a 100-day contract marriage with the ruthless Alexander Vance. The rules are simple: don't enter the East Wing, provide bi-weekly blood draws, and never talk to the woman in the mirrors. But as the line between high-tech science and dark obsession blurs, Elena discovers she isn't a wife, she’s a biological vessel for Alexander’s digital sister. In a house made of glass and lies, Elena must decide if she will run for her life or stay to conquer the man who owns her soul.

After returning home from a flight, I realize that my bottle of hair conditioner has run out in the bathroom. The thing is, my husband, Carlos Zappa, doesn't use hair conditioner at all. Seeing Carlos through the frosted glass, I decide to probe him for answers. "Did any guests stay over lately? Or have you started doing hair care?" Carlos flips through the documents, which are stamped with the Zappa family crest, impatiently at my questions. "Maybe a maid accidentally toppled the bottle over when she was cleaning the bathroom. Also, why are you annoying me with such minuscule matters?" When I put on the bathrobe, I feel a ticklish sensation coming from the collar. As soon as I look down, I notice a strand of dried yellow hair being entangled in the collar. The moment the steam dissipates, I see two pairs of intertwining handprints on the bathroom's glass door. I never thought that my home would grow this popular during my one-week trip away from home. I've been married to Carlos for three years, and yet this is my first time finding out that he's actually this wild in bed. So, I secretly text my father, the Don of the Carozza family. "Dad, Carlos has cheated on me. Does the bet we made three years ago still count?"

Este não é um romance delicado. É um diário erótico feito para leitores que buscam intensidade, fantasia e desejo sem freios. Entre jogos de poder, encontros proibidos e provocações que beiram o limite, cada capítulo mergulha em fantasias ardentes, personagens dominados pela própria fome e situações que fazem o coração acelerar e o corpo reagir. Nada é inocente. Tudo é intencional. O prazer aqui é psicológico, físico e obsessivo. Ele cresce devagar, aperta, domina — e explode em momentos de entrega absoluta. É leitura para quem gosta de tensão sexual constante, climas carregados e cenas que ficam na mente muito depois da última página. Se você procura uma história para ler com a porta trancada, o celular no silencioso e o autocontrole em risco… acabou de encontrar.