I Forgot My Iphone Passcode

Ten years to the day we were mated, Eric came home wearing the scent of his first love. He wrapped me in his scorching heat, his voice a hoarse whisper against my ear. "I want you, Lyra." He hadn't marked me on a full moon in so long. But right now, the scent of another she-wolf on him was a bitter ache in my chest. The dinner I'd prepared for our full moon ritual was swept off the table by our cub, River. He looked at me with his father’s cold expression. "Mom, your cooking doesn’t even come close to Auntie Aurora’s." Aurora. The first love Eric could never forget. The one he'd brazenly appointed as CFO of our pack's corporation. They were the perfect pair, flaunting their connection for all to see. And I, his true mate, had become the pack's laughingstock. For ten years, I played the part of the perfect mate and mother, only to become a shadow in my own home. That night, I filed the request to the Elders. I would sever the mate bond。 Later, under the brilliant Alaskan aurora, I received Eric's frantic mind link. "Lyra, what about River if you leave?" I let out a small laugh. " River only needs you." "Your first love is back, isn't she? Let her be the mother. I'm free."

A week before our wedding, my fiancee announces that she is pregnant using my younger brother's frozen sperm. "I'm grateful that our love can carry on in another way," she gushes on social media, showing off the test results. My brother replies, "Meeting you was the luckiest thing that ever happened to me." Then Mom chimes in. "Jenny, you've been through so much. Nathan's apartment should be under your name alone." I don't argue and simply reply with a single word—"Congratulations". My phone rings almost seconds later. "Your brother can't have kids anymore. It's just one child, and it's still related to you. Why are you being so petty?" she snaps. I laugh under my breath, hang up, and dial another number. "Want to get married?"

I was once the cherished princess of the Silver Moon Pack, adored by all. Back then, I fell for Kael, one of the pack's rogues. But when I grew bored of our little fling, I cast him aside without a second thought. Years later, my pack was destroyed and my parents were killed. Kael, however, had risen to become the Alpha of a powerful new pack. He claimed me, forcing me to become his Luna. Everyone said I was lucky, but they didn't know the truth. They didn't know that he brought different she-wolves back to our territory every night. And through our mate bond, every moment of their intimacy seared my soul like a blazing fire. I never cried, never protested, simply enduring it all in silence. But my silence only made Kael more volatile. This time, he went a step further. He got his Beta, Chole, pregnant. Still, I remained calm. Enraged, Kael slammed me against a rough stone wall. "Elara, do you love me or not?" I had thought his outbursts were a twisted sign of his love, that he was waiting for me to break. But then, Chole and I went into labor at the same time. I begged him to take me to the pack hospital first, and wanted to tell him that I had no choice when I rejected him back then. He pulled me into a tight embrace, only to shove me away moments later. "See? I knew you would break." "Drop the act. Do you really think you're still that high and mighty princess?" He ignored my pleas, ignored the life of his own pup inside me. He swept Chole into his arms and left without a backward glance. His cold voice echoed through our mind-link. "Don't worry, I'm not abandoning you." "You deserve to feel a fraction of the pain I felt when you cast me aside. Savor it."

My fated mate, Dexter, became the Alpha King when his brother died. He inherited the crown, the power… and his brother’s widowed mate, Jenica. All because I, a half-breed, had failed for years to give him a pureblood heir. He told me he had to mark Jenica, and the pain nearly shattered me. But he held me close, kissed my tears, and swore that his wolf, his fate, had chosen only me. That I would always be his one and only Luna. I believed him. And yet, he still spent every night in her bed. Then, Jenica became pregnant. While the pack celebrated, Dexter forced me from the Luna’s suite, all so her pup could be born into the pack’s purest lunar aura. As I felt our bond unravel thread by painful thread, I sent a final, coded message to a friend in the human world. “In four days, get me out.” That night, I made a choice. My time as his mate was over.

Being second best is practically in my DNA. My sister got the love, the attention, the spotlight. And now, even her damn fiancé. Technically, Rhys Granger was my fiancé now—billionaire, devastatingly hot, and a walking Wall Street wet dream. My parents shoved me into the engagement after Catherine disappeared, and honestly? I didn’t mind. I’d crushed on Rhys for years. This was my chance, right? My turn to be the chosen one? Wrong. One night, he slapped me. Over a mug. A stupid, chipped, ugly mug my sister gave him years ago. That’s when it hit me—he didn’t love me. He didn’t even see me. Obviously, I needed alcohol. A lot of alcohol. Enter him. Tall, dangerous, unfairly hot. The kind of man who makes you want to sin just by existing. It was reckless. It was stupid. It was completely ill-advised. But it was also: Best. Sex. Of. My. Life. And, as it turned out, the best decision I’d ever made. Because my one-night stand isn’t just some random guy. He’s richer than Rhys, more powerful than my entire family, and definitely more dangerous than I should be playing with. And now, he’s not letting me go.

“Can you feel that?” “Paula, this is not right,” He tries to deny the spark between us. “But it feels right, right?” “Damn, Paula,” “Please, Sergio. Don’t deny us this,” He growled, and before I know it, he grabs me on my wrists and smashes his lips on mine, me hard. I place my hands on his face, participating in the . Our tongues bump against each other, fighting for dominance. He moves his lips down to my neck and sucks on it, sending chills down my spine, and my panties are already soaking . I let out soft , grasping into his arms. He runs his tongue on my face and stops on my ear, nibbling it, and whispers: “We can’t do this, baby girl.” Argh, so disappointing! He sits back in his seat and starts the car. It is only a matter of time before he gives in – he just needs a little more time.

I died in the year my husband hated me most. Unable to endure his endless silent treatment any longer, I swallowed a bottle of pills and ended my life. At the crematorium, watching the flames roar inside the furnace, he allowed himself a rare smile. “Someone as vile as her doesn’t deserve to be laid to rest whole.” So when the staff handed him the urn, he flipped it over. My ashes scattered across the floor in an instant. All this time, he had believed I was responsible for the death of his first love. That belief was why he had schemed and plotted for years, all for this precise moment of final desecration. When it was over, he stepped over my ashes and walked away without looking back. Though not long after that, he fell to his knees and begged the crematorium to give my ashes back to him.

A business trip took an unexpected turn when our plane ran into disaster. While everyone else was penning their last words, I, an orphan with nothing to lose, decided to have a little fun with my miserly boss. “Boss, let’s keep this short—I like you.” “I really, really like you.” “Boss, this is a final goodbye.” Just when all hope seemed lost, the captain pulled off a miracle with his years of experience, saving us from the brink of catastrophe. By the time we landed safely, I was still in a daze until I saw my boss, eyes bloodshot, storming toward me, flanked by a wall of black-suited bodyguards.

I had personally trained Damiano Vestri and brought him up the ranks to become the mafia’s Don. The family’s inner circle accepted him, and he was loyal only to me. Whenever bullets went flying, he would always shield me and take many of them for me. The night before our wedding, I waited for his return, but what I got was news of his death. A week later, I received an email with a pregnancy report and a photo. The photo showed Damiano caressing another woman’s belly. It turned out he had faked his death so that he could be with his first love. The due date for her pregnancy was approaching. I scoffed and clicked the safety off on my gun. If he wanted to fake his death, I would help him turn it into a real one.

His f*ngers tangle in her hair, his warm breath fanning against her parted l*ps as he thr*sted up into her slowly. Bailey let out the most strangled m*an as Kaleb f*lled her with his g*rthy and l*ngthy c^ck. This was bad. She wasn't supposed to be sleeping with her best friend's brother. But here she was with his c^ck d*ep ins*de her and his t^ngue inside her m^uth. ~ Sequel to: Bestfriends Shouldn't Know How You Taste and Tangled In His Sheets