He's Into Her

The men of his Pack never live past thirty. Only a union with my bloodline can break the curse. But on the day of our mating ceremony, he tore up our bond in front of everyone— just for his precious lover. In front of the entire Pack, he looked at me with nothing but disgust. “Elara, you’re nothing but a parasite. Your kind has been using black magic to deceive my Pack for generations. That ends with me.” His lover clung to his arm and laughed softly. “Why are you still standing here? Get out.” “With my knowledge, I can keep him alive far beyond thirty.” I looked at him. At the life-force already collapsing beneath his skin. A quiet laugh slipped from my throat. Fine. On his thirtieth birthday— we’ll see who’s right. Very soon.

It is the third year of my marriage when the video of my bodyguard, Julian Sutherland, holding an umbrella over me in a downpour goes viral. Overnight, the internet becomes obsessed with the "Icy Protector and his Forbidden Heiress." Netizens are relentless; they dig through the archives until they unearth a ten-year-old clip. In the video, a girl was holding a pair of high-heeled shoes while sprinting through the Folander airport. My friend teased, "No way, Ms. Serina Brown. Are you really flying back home to confess to that poor man? What could you possibly see in him?" The camera shakes, capturing my youthful face. I was just a reckless 20-year-old. "I love Julian. I love everything about him." That night, after seeing the video, Julian loses his composure and bursts into my room. "I didn't know you loved me back then. I thought… I thought… God, it was never supposed to end like this." I pull my coat around me and stand rooted on the spot, remaining silent. Suddenly, a mocking laugh echoes from behind me. Someone places their hand firmly on my waist and says, "Are you trying to reminisce about your love with my wife right in front of me? Do I look dead to you?"

“Say it.” Elara’s throat tightened. “I belong to you,” she whispered. “I am your slave.” Kane Blackthorn’s gaze hardened. “And?” Her voice broke. “I am… your sex slave.” The Alpha stepped closer, his shadow swallowing her whole. “You will expect no kindness,” he said coldly. “No affection. No protection. You exist to obey me.” “Yes, my Lord.” “Strip, Elara.” Elara once lived in the Blood Moon Pack as the daughter of a powerful man. Now she lives in the Alpha’s palace as something far worse than a servant. A slave. Alpha Kane Blackthorn rules his pack with an iron will and an untouchable reputation. Mercy is not something he offers twice. And Elara belongs to him now. She should hate him. She tries to. But the deeper she falls into the Alpha’s dark world, the more dangerous things become. Because Kane Blackthorn doesn’t look at her like a slave. He looks at her like something far more dangerous. Something he might never let go.

"I'm sorry I didnt remember you." Rosaline Campton a young rogue who's family and pack were murdered when she was only 7 years old by the Red Mark Pack Leader Riftan Verlice. Riftan murdered her pack with no remorse and captured Rosaline who was now a simple mere rogue and locked her up for his own pack to do what they pleased to her. As she wishes for death as her 18 birthday approaches Riftan appears before her and tells her she's going to be auctioned off the day of her birthday and must transform in front of everyone and if she dares to run.... her wish might come true.... until he appears...

I had cancer. And Carl—my boyfriend of seven years—ditched me at the hospital to play fake boyfriend for his so-called best friend, just so she could dodge her parents' marriage pressure. When the results came in, I broke down. Clutching the report, I sobbed as I called him. "Carl, I... I..." My voice cracked. I didn't even know how to say it. I thought he'd comfort me. Instead, his voice came sharp through the phone. "Can you not? Mia's just a friend. What's so wrong about me helping her?—do you have to be so dramatic? I already promised to marry you this month. What more do you want?"

When I went to reissue my mate certificate, the Werewolf Affairs Division told me, "Your mate certificate is a forgery. We have no record of your registration." I stared at the clerk, unable to believe what I was hearing. "But Sam and I registered five years ago. That's impossible. Could you please check again?" The clerk gave me a look before double-checking the files. "We found Alpha Sam's record. But the registered mate… isn't you." My voice trembled. "Then who is Sam's legal mate?" The clerk didn't hesitate. "Lily." I gripped the back of the chair, white-knuckled, just to keep myself upright. Until the clerk had spoken that name, I'd still held on to hope. Maybe it was a clerical error. A mix-up. But of all people, it had to be Lily, Sam's childhood friend. And suddenly, everything started to make sense. In five years of being Sam's mate, he had never marked me. We'd only held a mating ceremony—no certificate, no legal bond. I had given up everything for that ceremony, poured all my hope and love into it, believing I was his, only to find the certificate was fake. The five years I'd thought were mine—our happiness—had all been a lie, crafted and upheld by appearances. If none of it was truly mine, then there's only one thing left for me to do. Leave.

My wife, Melanie Sutton, uses my life-saving money to bridge the funding gap of her first love, Fred Grayson's company. With hatred shining in her eyes, she tells me, "You owe him this much, Edison Clark! I'd have gotten together with Fred a long time ago if it weren't for you! "People like you deserve to die!" As expected, I end up dying later on, only to get reborn on the day Melanie confesses to Fred. This time, I no longer stop her.

Before Christmas Eve, all of Nowevik was betting. Not on money. On me. Would I finally pull the winning lot? Would Leon Fabian finally take me to his family estate for Christmas? The Fabians had a rule. A new bride had to attend the Christmas Eve dinner with the whole family before she counted as one of them. I'd been married five years. Five years. The lot never landed on me. I'd become Nowevik's favorite joke. This year, the winning ticket went to a nightclub hostess. She lounged on Leon's lap and flicked it onto the table in front of me, smiling like she'd already won. The room went silent. Everyone waited— for me to lunge at her like I had the last four years. Claws out. A scene. But I didn't move. "Congratulations." Leon leaned in, breath warm at my ear, smiling like he'd just proved something. "Wynne, you're finally learning how to behave. Keep this up and you might actually become a proper lady of my house." I lowered my eyes and tore the ticket in half. My face stayed blank. Leon had no idea the five-year deal between my brother and me was already over. Soon, he'd come take me home.

“Get away from me,” Aria said, her voice unsteady. Aston didn’t move away. No, he leaned in, the blade she held against his neck piercing through just enough to draw a thin line of red. He smiled. “Careful, my lady,” he murmured. “Your hands are shaking.” Her grip tightened on the hilt. “Now look at him,” Aston continued softly. “Look at your son… and tell me whose eyes he has.” There was absolute silence. “Your stepbrother’s?” His smile sharpened. “Or the man that claimed you that night?” ~ Five years ago, all Aria wanted was for her stepbrother, Liam, to say “take my hand” and defend her. Instead she woke up in his bed; drugged, disgraced, and left to carry the blame and the label of a ‘whore’. Now she’s back with a child, but to regain her reputation, she has to marry Aston Beaumont, a ghost with a million layers, a murderer, and the man about to betray her grandfather. It should have been simple. Save her grandfather. Restore her reputation. Then leave. That is, until her stepbrother returns, not with guilt or shame, but with obsession, dangerously wanting her back like he never let her go. And the more he pushes, the more dangerous Aston becomes. Because Aston Beaumont doesn’t chase. He takes.

I told Charlie my biggest secret—I was the long-lost daughter of the powerful Moore family in Dreslane. He swore he'd help me reunite with them. But the night before I met them, the Moore family made a grand declaration—they'd already found their missing daughter. A ceremony was set. I rushed there, heart pounding, only to see Charlie standing beside his childhood friend, Raine. She was being introduced as the Moore heiress. And somehow, she had the exact same birthmark as me. Before I could do anything, Charlie locked me in a restroom. "It's just a name," he said. "You still have me. So why does this matter? Raine's parents died saving me—she never had a real family. For my sake, can't you just let her have this?" Then, to erase any doubt, to make sure Raine could live as me without fear—Charlie took a knife and carved the birthmark off my body. The shock. The pain. I lost my three-month-old unborn baby that night. And as I lay there, blood soaking through my clothes, I finally gave up.