Glowed Synonym Novels & Stories

I was Alpha Adrian's secret for eight years. It took his grandfather’s centennial birthday for him to finally bring our son, Gale, and me home to the pack. He swore the pack Elders had finally given us their blessing. Our son, buzzing with excitement, bounced on the bed, clutching the champion’s medal from his junior fighting tournament. He’d fought tooth and nail to win it, just to make his father proud. But the moment we set foot on the Blackwood Manor grounds, we saw him. Adrian, with his arms wrapped around a blonde she-wolf, kissing her deeply. Adrian introduced her with a smile. "My mate, Sophia" Our son, Gale, rushed forward to confront him, stabbing a finger toward the seemingly perfect bite mark on my neck. "That's the mark Dad gave Mom! You all see it!" But the pack’s Head Elder stepped forward. After a cursory glance, he let out a cold sneer. "A clever trick of blood magic," he said with contempt. "It can mimic a scent, but it lacks the soul-deep connection of a true mate bond. Any experienced wolf can see through it." I turned to Adrian, my body frozen stiff. He turned away from me, gently stroking the real mark on Sophia's neck, which glowed with a silvery, moonlit light. "The Blackwood pack will not accept a half-blood who can’t even shift" he said. "The only one fit to stand by my side is Sophia." I looked at him, and a bitter laugh escaped me. To think I had suppressed my own Royal Alpha blood for a man like this.

"Do you know what it feels like to know that all the decisions that you've ever taken in your life are masterminded by someone?" Eleanor Welsh is an intelligent, independent girl who always wanted her life to be in her control since the tragic fatal accident that claimed her parents' lives at twelve. Being an orphan at a such tender age, her father's best friend, Antonio Welsh, took her into his custody but sold her off to a contracted marriage later on to a heartless billionaire, Ethan Grayson, in dire need to save his business from bankruptcy. What happens when the mysteries of her parent's death unfold with her protective husband backing her up? Ethan walked into the dark room unhurriedly with both hands in the pockets of his pants. He was furious, yet he had his usually calm expression. He walked to the fireplace in the room which was the only source of light in the room and pulled out a hot metal. From the way the metal glowed in a dark-red crimson color, even a fool can tell that the metal had been in the fire for hours. Walking to where a man who was chained to the wall with blood all over his body was with the metal still in his hands, Ethan stood before the man, his eyes black from the lack of light in the room. "Mr. Grayson, please..." the man pleaded in almost a whisper "I didn't know she was your wife." Before anybody in the room could blink, the hot metal was placed on the man's face. The man screamed in pain as hot tears fell from his eyes, before fainting. "Take him to his boss as my gift. Anyone that touches my property, I will burn him in hell." Max nodded.

My husband, Cesare Ferrante, the most feared Don of the Ferrante family, had always hated children. Yet everything changed the moment my stepsister, Bianca Moretti, moved in next door with her six-month-old baby. Suddenly, my husband became obsessed with that child. He personally fed the baby formula, sang lullabies, and carried the baby everywhere he went. Every day, he came home exhausted at dawn, yet his face glowed with joy, as if that baby occupied his entire soul. I became invisible to him. Three days ago, someone forced my car off the road, and I crashed into the median. Blood streamed down my forehead, and my vision swam. I called Cesare 55 times. He did not answer a single call. Instead, he posted a photo of the baby on his social media. [My little angel smiled today!] I had had enough. Tonight at the family banquet, every member of the famiglia was seated around the table. I raised my final toast, then set down my glass. "I want a divorce." They all froze. "Are you insane?" My parents' voices rose in unison. Cesare grabbed my wrist, disbelief written across his face. "Giulia, you want to divorce me just because I was busy taking care of the baby and didn't answer your calls? You're actually jealous of a six-month-old child?" I did not meet his eyes. Instead, I stared at the glaring kiss mark behind his ear. "Since you love that child so much," I said calmly, "I'll make it easy for you. Go be that child's father."

Trigger Warning: This story explores difficult themes including emotional and physical abuse, coercion, non-consensual drugging, obsession, and trauma. Reader discretion is advised. Love. Lust. Obsession. Three very different men, but they all have one thing in common... Me. I was just a waitress. A woman with burned bridges and a dream of starting over. I thought I was finally free. A clean slate. I was so close... so close to gaining the independence I fought so hard for, until darkness came again, only this time… tenfold. One’s lust wants to own me. Another’s obsession seeks to break me. The third... I’m drawn to. He treated me like no one else did. I thought I could trust him. Then something shifted. Something terrifying. Hope fades when your body is not yours, your voice is silenced, and freedom is denied. --- As my fingertips brushed the smooth metal surface of the handle, claw-like fingers sank into my fleshy hips. I cried out in pure terror, the wind knocked out of me as my back slammed against his chest. “You’re really not leaving without saying goodbye to me, are you, sweetheart?” he growled. His eyes glowed an eerie garnet. “Remember, you belong to me now, Laura. If you ever dare run, I’ll lock you away where no one will find you,” he snarled, his coarse face scraping against mine. --- I’ve survived everything up to this point... Now, I’m not sure I can. They say I belong to them... Yet what if I was never meant to belong to anyone?

Tara isn't your everyday beauty shit she wasn't a size 0 runway model, she was curvey thick and flawless nonetheless. It took her years to see that in herself after going through the ups and downs of being tossed through the foster system she had all but lost her faith in herself. This is why she chooses to become an advocate for foster kids like her. When she first launched her UFCP program she had only one private supporter. Now here she was at a huge charity banquet representing her program publicly and the program would now be recognized nationally. It was like a dream come true especially when she runs into the investor who happens to be an old friend from the foster system who was in the same house as her. Giovanni Berlusconi, he had glowed up since she last saw him all those years ago and he apparently felt the same about her. The only problem was he was a mafia king pin and Tara might have known much about the mob, but she sure as hell knew she wanted no parts of it. Especially after two of her colleagues end up dead in a mysterious car crash after questioning Gio's family connections to the recent spike in missing persons cases in the city. Tara had tried to blow him off politely but Gio wasn't having it. Stopping by her office unannounced. Tara was desperate to avoid the mob boss at all cost that is until she accidentally stumbles on to a private family meeting and witnesses him killing someone. Now she has only two choices marry the very man she fears or die.

I waggled into my cottage and I opened the door. I found a stranger inside and I jerked out in fear. My amethyst eyes glowed in defence to protect my territory since it was marked. "Who the hell are you!" I yelled indignantly in frustration as emotions churned up in my chest. "I am Aryan Delcour, am sorry I stumbled upon your cottage. I was simply passing by" He retorted unfazed. His chest tightened afterwards and his jaw was clenched. A part of him knew that he had trespassed for sure, so he felt contritely at the moment. My eyes were fixated on his packs since he was just in shorts and I almost stuttered. I waggled closer to him fortuitously. "Is this the impact of the bond under moonlight?!" I pondered to myself in a perturbed manner. I knew that I had always resisted the urge to have a mate and bond with him under moonlight but not this time! Not when I was drunk and heartbroken! Dahlia Hyacinth, an Omega from the Loodwig Crescent pack ends up having a one night stand, fortuitously with an alpha, Aryan Delcour who was a stranger. It was the irrefutable impact of bonding under the moonlight and there were solid factors that caused her not to resist; From being dead drunk to being horny naturally under the moonlight. She gets banished from her pack by her father, the alpha of the pack she was in. While she tries to live a fresh start with her quadruplets cute babies all werewolves, the alpha shows up at her doorsteps living her mesmerized. Would she gets entangled in his world filled with love, conflict, war and myth?

Kira is an adopted daughter of a well-known heartless billionaire (Gerald Cranwell) who was sold by him into a contractually agreed marriage to the wealthiest family in the entire country to escape bankruptcy. Clueless Kira calm and collected could only just watch her life being handed over to a new home and her new world, tackling people from the highest society and struggling to look presentable before a husband she had never set her eyes on before. He never showed up at their wedding and she didn't know what he looked like in person. Trapped in a supposed marriage meant for two yet leaving alone, she grew tired of waiting and accepted her fate, living like a nobody and sleeping in her lonely world, not until a certain stranger crawled into her bed under the moonlight. Excerpts #1 She was dressed in her night attire, looking like a carved doll. Her eyes were shut and her brown hair which was as soft as a Pima cotton was spread wide on the soft pillows, her skin glowed underneath the light of the moon, which was the only light visible in the room, and her long lashes accompanied her pointy nose that laid beautifully above her rose pink lips. She enticed him. She made the beast in him growl out in desire. He craved her, he wanted her. Kira was in deep sleep when her nose caught a whiff of an unfamiliar scent. She didn't know what it was but her body craved it. She felt a certain presence but she was far too gone to wake up from her slumber. Unconsciously, her nipples hardened and her insides were on fire. She rotated on the bed as if she was been controlled and moaned and groaned as if she was being drugged.

I canceled my ticket to Iceland. Even the customer service agent sounded confused. “There are only two seats left on this flight. Are you sure you want to cancel?” “Yes,” I said. “I’m sure.” We had been together for four years. Every February, he flew to Iceland. He always said it was for a photography project. On social media, he only posted glaciers and the northern lights. Whenever I said I wanted to see the aurora too, he would tell me, “It’s too cold there. You wouldn’t be able to handle it.” Then yesterday, I helped him organize an old hard drive. Inside was an encrypted folder named **February**. When I opened it, every photo was of the same girl standing beneath the same northern lights. The light was soft around her. Even the strands of her hair glowed clearly in the frame. The only photo he had ever taken of me was outside our apartment complex. Backlit. Out of focus. My eyes were squinting, and my entire face was blurred. At the time, he had even laughed and said, “As long as you can tell it’s you, it’s fine.” So it wasn’t that he didn’t know how to take good photos. He just never wanted to take them of me. For four years, he chased the northern lights. And every time, the same person stood beside him. The farthest light I had ever seen was nothing more than an Iceland photo he had posted carelessly online. While I was packing my things, he called me. His voice was rushed. “Weren’t you the one who kept saying you wanted to see the northern lights? Why did you cancel the ticket?” I hung up without answering. Iceland was too far. The aurora was too cold. Since he was never willing to come toward me, I would walk toward the light on my own.

WARNING: RATED 18+| NO RAPE!!! Excerpt; "Was I a good girl?" she hiccupped, her bare skin flushed and glowed as she rolled across the sheets like she owned the bed—and him. Six weeks without his touch had scraped her raw. She was slowly losing touch of her sanity. "You did good, Penguin," Alanis said, his voice low and rough as he reached for his tie. And just like that, the spell cracked. He was leaving...again. It wasn't fair, she had to remain in the shadows, while her perfect half-sister was rubbing his chest in public. Poppy slammed the door shut, while she arranged her robe, her eyes wet and wild. "Can you… stay… just one more night?" He hesitated. And she saw it, the guilt and pull. "You know how this—" Something made him stop mid-sentence. His gaze dropped. One sharp breath, and he was staring at her peaked nipple like it was a commandment. "Please?" she breathed, arching toward him. With a low growl, he tossed her back on the bed because he had been starved, and he was ready to devour his Penguin. ... Poppy never had a chance to be the golden girl. Not with a cruel stepmother, and a father who forgot she even existed. Penelope was given everything that belonged to Poppy. Now Penny's prize? A diamond ring—a wedding to Alanis Caelum, Velmora's most powerful billionaire. Cold, brilliant, and devastatingly magnetic. To everyone but Poppy. Because before he became Penny’s perfect fiancé, he belonged to Poppy—in the dark, in secret, in sin. He knows her body like a weapon. He calls her Penguin with a growl that makes her knees buckle. And when he’s inside her, he forgets who he's supposed to love. She had him wrapped so tight, he forgot the world.

I had just climbed into the armored SUV leaving the Moretti estate when the gatekeeper hurried after me with a black encrypted phone in his hand. "Mrs. Westmore, Don Moretti asked me to give you this." I took it. One unread message glowed on the screen. [Selena only had a scare. I'll come home tomorrow. Don't overthink it.] I stared at it for two seconds, popped out the SIM card, snapped it in half, and tossed it into the rain outside the window. The next day, I had just reached the abandoned shipyard in North Harbor when encrypted messages started hitting my backup phone one after another. [Vivian, where are you?] [Why aren't you home? Where the hell did you go this late?] [Answer me. Don't make me send men all over the city looking for you.] The last one was exactly his style: soft on the surface, arrogant underneath. [Your family survives under my protection. Don't test my patience.] I didn't answer. After countless messages sank without a reply, my husband finally drove to the old Westmore grounds at North Harbor. He knew that if anything was left of my family, I would be there. But when Damon pushed through the broken iron gate, he found no guards, no household staff, and no Westmore men waiting for orders. The old house stood hollow in the rain. Its windows were blown out, the front steps were black with soot, and the air still carried the bitter smell of smoke and gunpowder. Damon grabbed a passing harbor guard by the sleeve. "Where are the Westmores?" The guard looked at him as if he should already know. "Gone. The family was hit two nights ago. Whoever came for them knew exactly when Moretti protection would be pulled from the harbor." "Miss Westmore came back before dawn," the guard added. "She took the black-gold signet, a few boxes of ledgers, and whatever papers survived the fire." "After that, she left. And no one has seen her since."