Ice Breathing Demon Slayer Novels & Stories

Collins’ and Alan’s story wasn’t like that of most werewolf mates. They’d both been through a lot when they finally found each other. But now she’s off to college, and he’s training fighters for the impending pack wars. The biggest thing keeping them apart now, however, is themselves. She hopes he will wait for her, but her past threatens to ruin their relationship before it even begins. Alan is being tested left and right. But the true test, is whether or not he will love a ghost for the rest of his life. The odds are stacking against them. Will love overcome it all? Or will it ruin them, and rip them to shreds, one small piece at a time?

On my birthday—the same day Troy hyped some "surprise" for me online—I saw a photo that afternoon. He was on my horse. With his assistant. His shirt hung open, red finger marks dragged across his chest. Caption? [First time in my life. Thanks to him.] The comments went wild: [Jealous of whoever touched those abs.] [That position... damn.] Troy liked that one. My chest went cold. I thought that side of him was just for me. Turns out—it could be anyone. I washed the horse myself. Scrubbed off every trace. Then I signed the ranch over to him. "You can give the rest away. Pick whoever you want." He lit up. I said yes to the arranged marriage.

He's sugar. She's spice. Together, they will never work. She has done the impossible. Working for the country's most difficult boss for seven years. Rosaline Carter's work life is fueled by her love for spicy food, a fat paycheck, and dreams of sending her brother to Harvard. She's sworn off love completely. Until that fateful monday morning. "I need a fiancée, Miss Carter. And I need one who at least knows my favourite brand of coffee." A contract marriage to her boss, the impossible and difficult Alaric Sylvester? Rosaline never even saw him as a man to begin with. But for five billion dollars? She would propose to Mr Ice king and plan the wedding alone. Alaric Sylvester hates his assistant. With her sensible shoes, horn rimmed glasses, and perfectly polite way of speaking, she never fails to get on his nerves. She's the last person he wants for a wife, or even a romantic figure. Yet she's the best option. No one knows his schedule by heart, or his love for sweets. It's just three years. And he'll never see her again. With his inheritance on the line, the board of directors hounding him for being too antisocial, and rumours starting to stir...he will do anything to save his reputation. Including marrying his cold hearted assistant. And with her hatred for sweets, he's sure he'll never like her. It's only a marriage agreement. The terms were simple. But simple doesn't always equal easy. And the human heart is a traitorous beast.

What would you do when fate binds you to two mates—one who shattered your heart, and the other who's being shattered every day? Alpha Aira Stone—fiery, fearless, and one of the mischievous Stone sextuplets—is no stranger to chaos. But nothing prepares her for the moment her world begins to unravel. The boy she’s loved her entire life—her brother’s Beta, her secret childhood crush—walks away to chase his dreams, leaving her behind with nothing but a hollow “I’m sorry” and a heart full of scars. His silence was rejection. His absence, betrayal. And Aira? She doesn’t forgive easily. But when the Moon Goddess finally reveals her fated mates, the joke is crueler than she could have imagined—because one of them is him. The Beta. The wimp. The one who turned his back on her. And the other? A mysterious transgender demon—shackled by torment, enduring daily abuse at the hands of a monstrous werewolf pack in a distant, brutal land. A soul tethered to hers by pain, fate, and an ache she can’t ignore. Now, with her pride in pieces and her heart pulled in two, Aira must confront what it means to lead, to love—and to choose. Because some bonds are blessed. Others are broken. And some... are born in chaos.

Follow this lost demoness, Vastria who never knew about her true powers or of her real mother. Vastria finds herself submerged into this new world. A world of demons, vampires, werewolves, and more. She did not know her life had been a secret. Her father had answers and just as she started to get answers, she became betrothed. Vastria must unearth the secrets surrounding her new life before someone tries to take her life because the blood running through her veins makes her a powerful being even more powerful than her own mother. **Contains violence, blood, and gore. You have been warned**

Maryanne has given all she wanted for the man she loved, but he rejects her, mistreats her and abuses her. She finally moves on and is immediately engaged by a strong and cruel Alpha of the strongest pack. Maryanne finds out that her supposed mate and the man she had loved for so long were in war. Where both of them offer her the best life and are willing to take good care of her, who will she choose? Can she move on completely from her past and focus on her new love or will she reclaim the love she has lost?

At my own wedding, the groom switched—Malcolm Lowell bailed, and the best man stepped in. Lumi, the Irving's real daughter, latched onto Malcolm's arm and smirked from the crowd. "I was just feeling a little low," she said. "Didn't think Malcolm would go this far for me." Malcolm raised a brow. "I just wanted to make her happy. You took her spot for years. Time to pay it back. This is for your own good." That's when it hit me—this whole wedding was a setup, a twisted show just to entertain Lumi. All because I was the adopted one. I'd lived in her place for over two decades. I didn't cry. Didn't freak out. I just took the new groom's hand, faced the priest, and said, "Keep going."

Everyone in Harbor City knew I had a wife whom everyone envied. Not only was she a wealthy heiress, but a celebrated lawyer, untouchable and elegant. However, in private, she was a delicate, devoted wife. I had planned to tell her the truth on our wedding anniversary—that I was the heir to one of Jinmist City's most powerful families—and take her home. However, on her birthday, I walked in on her being pinned to a car and forcefully kissed by her new assistant, with pieces of her torn clothing scattered everywhere. I lost control. The assistant ended up in the ICU, and I ended up in court. To my shock, my wife turned on me in court, falsely accusing me of malicious assault, while saying nothing about the assistant’s attempt. I was sentenced to three years in prison. In the visitation room, I demanded answers, but she remained calm. “You’re my husband. Even if you go to prison, I still love you.” “But Daniel is different. He comes from a poor family. If he’s charged with attempted assault, his life would be ruined forever.” At that moment, my hope shattered. Fine. If she didn’t want the title of wife to the Millers' heir, I’d just have to take it back.

A dark and gloomy villa stood in the middle of the barren landscape, hidden from sight by a perched hedge. It was phenomenal and spectacular, but it makes it appear to have succumbed to a sullen and ominous atmosphere, both inside and out. A lanky hedge and gnarled shrubs give off the impression that the house has indeed been overlooked. The rainstorm seeping from the sewer pipes made the place appear miserable and dispirited. Needless to say, the house appeared razed to the ground and devoid of life. The house was made of rune stone that had been smeared darker in spots by downpours, sending it an insidious demeanor even during the day. The window frames were all padlocked and bricked up in steel frames and woods, as if what was inside would have been too grotesque to see, trying to give the impression that someone must have attempted to prevent something horrible from escaping. People have claimed that the residence was plagued by the witch who died there, but there has been no tangible evidence to substantiate their claims. It was even widely speculated that the villa was venomous and mowed down the leaves of trees that come into direct contact with its concrete pillars. People also construed a terrifying presumption that whoever tries to enter the house will never make it out alive because there is something inside that you would never dare to see with your very own eyes. Whatever was real or not, it was unmistakably foreshadowing, exponentially cold and savage at a hundredth of a thousand glances. A breathtaking doll sat competently on a rocking chair inside the house. Waiting complacently for someone brave and heroic enough to unravel the abominable and ghoulish mystery and paradox behind her enchanting, spine-chilling smile.

After ten years studying interior design overseas, I came back to my hometown to do work that mattered to the people who raised me. I offered the full package, from site survey to soft furnishings. The materials were chosen by hand. The price was fair to the bone. The town had just gone through a redevelopment. Everyone was getting new units. With the new family policy, every family wanted a third bedroom too. My business was good. Customers from the next county were driving in. Then a girl just back from a city college kicked open my studio with her phone on a livestream and her neighbors at her shoulder. "This is the dishonest one. Look at her. She has been ripping the village off." "In the city, an eighty-square-meter unit can be done for twenty thousand dollars. She is charging eighty." "That's a sixty-thousand-dollar margin. Sixty thousand. Right out of our pockets." The village fell in line behind her. They demanded the difference back. When I refused, they smashed my studio. They beat me into a coma. The pile-on online killed me. When I opened my eyes again, I knew exactly what I was going to do. I would refund every single one of them. And then I would tear out every single thing I had installed. Let's see what twenty thousand dollars actually buys you.