Iron Bars

They buried him under a blood-red moon. Chains of silver and blessed iron pinned his broken body to the earth, sealing his power, erasing his name. To the pack, he was a failed Alpha. To the coven, a cursed vampire. To the world, he was a mistake that deserved to die. But monsters don’t stay dead. When Alpha opened his eyes again, he wasn’t in the grave—he was in the body of his weakest self. Eighteen years old. Rankless. Powerless. His wolf silent. His vampire blood thin and starving. The memories of his execution burned behind his eyes like fresh wounds. Reborn. A second life… and a second chance at vengeance. This time, he felt it—the system etched into his soul, ancient and cruel. [Hybrid Core Detected] Bloodline: Vampire / Werewolf / Unknown Status: Severely Suppressed Level: 1

It's 11:30 pm. Home alone, I decide to order some takeout. When the map shows the delivery guy is zero miles away, I receive a call from him. I pick up, only to hear unsettling silence from the other end. I hang up, annoyed. The next moment, the guy texts me, "Sorry, I'm hearing-impaired and unable to speak. I called to notify you to pick up your food as soon as possible. I can't explain things over the phone, and I apologize for that." Then comes another text. "You must've been waiting for a long time. I've left your order at your door, so please pick it up as soon as you can." Just as I prepare to open the door, I see bars of live comments—reminiscent of livestream chats—floating right before my eyes. "Don't open the door! That dude isn't a delivery guy at all! He's a murderer!" "He called you to check if you're a woman living alone!" "Seriously, why are all thriller story protagonists always so dumb? The delivery guy is obviously suspicious, yet she still wants to open the door."

Amelia Montgomery is one of Rosewood High's cheerleaders along with her best friend Stella Hayes. Her and Stella have been friends ever since kindergarten when Amelia fell off the monkey bars and Stella helped her up afterwards. Stella has a brother named Easton Hayes and he has always teased Amelia since she was seven. They both agreed that they thought he was a heartless prick who treats girls like rubbish. One Friday night Amelia decided to go to a party. At the party Amelia ends up slipping and falling into her worst enemies lap, but what makes the situation worse is the fact that some drunk dude accidentally stumbles into her causing her to slide forward and lock lips with none other than Easton Hayes. Oh how Amelia's life couldn't be anymore ruined. ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• I lean in so that our noses are touching which causes us to close our eyes as our breaths become more harsher. "I can't stand being friends with you. Everytime I see you all I want to do is push you against a wall and kiss you" he whispers out which makes me smile a little "So, what are you going to do about it?" I ask him teasingly with a breathless voice "This" he says before he connects our lips which makes me reach up and place my hands on his cheeks.

I went into labor. And my mate, Alpha Alistair, locked me in a silver cage. The bars throbbed with curse runes, burning my skin. He did it for Livia. His dead brother's mate. Her pup had to be born first. That's when I learned the truth. He'd been poisoning me for months. All to make sure Livia's child would be the next Alpha. He called it "calming tea." A daily dose of poison to slow my pup's growth and delay my labor. But my body had other plans. My pup refused to wait. I went into labor at the same time as Livia. When he found out, he accused me of faking it. Of begging for sympathy. He let them poison me with wolfsbane. I lost my pup. A piece of my soul died with him. With my last breath, I reached out. To the one person who could save me. My brother, Alpha King Lucian. He came like a storm of rage. He burned the packhouse to the ground, with me inside. A phantom fire for all to see. Then, he plucked me from the flames. Only then, surrounded by the smoking ruins of his pack, did Alistair fall to his knees. His howl of regret tore through the night. For 99 days, he howled at the moon. Begging the Moon Goddess to return just a sliver of my soul.

On the company's designated monthly day off, Gigi Lott, Donald Hoover's secretary, posted an Instagram story. The caption read, "So what if you're the boss of me when we're at work during the day? At night, I'm the one on top!" In the photo, she was lying atop a water bed covered in rose petals, and the usually stern Donald was kneeling down to massage her feet for her. From his pocket hung a brand new golden necklace. Just that morning, I bought several gold bars and gave them to Donald while beseeching him to make our relationship public. He happily took the locket from me, but when I tried to take a photo of us with our phone, he smacked my phone out of my hands, smashing it into pieces. With a look of pure derision, he declared, "Why don't you take a good look at yourself in the mirror first? You really are a motherless wretch who wasn't raised right. Look at the lengths you'd go to just to ruin me!" Throughout the last five years, I had meekly gone along with his demand that we keep our relationship a secret, claiming it was because office romances were forbidden. But now, I was abruptly hit with the realization of how laughable it all was. The next day, I sent my father a message. "I admit defeat. I'm willing to come home and inherit the family business."

I am Seranda Williams the uwanted, born from a lineage of slaves, embedded with the mark of Zeranda cursed god of the souls of the dead. A plague waiting to be eradicated. a plague waiting to be destroyed, a celebration at my death, festivity at the sight of my blood. I stare from the open bars of my home, a crumbling place known to others as a dungeon, but I have called this place home for the last 18 years, today is that day, the long-awaited day of my death. I feel nothing, I have been groomed as a sacrificial lamb. am neither the first nor will I be the last, it will soon be time. Nothing is there to be felt, I was neither provided information on why I must die, nothing could break me. No, they can't…can they? Neglected separated front all. Groomed as a sacrificial lamb, what was there to hope for? I am not the first nor will I be the last, it will soon be time. I have lived off scraps of food for the longest time, not like I saw meaning to why I was fed. I was going to be killed either way. I got myself ready, but there wasn't much to be done, I washed my hair with the little water left from the previous day, I have been isolated from humans since my birth. I did not get the chance to be a child like every other kid out there. I was barely given enough to last me for 18 years. The door abruptly opens and hefty men rush in with chains and shackles. “Tie the slave”

In a world where strength defines worth, Calla Vale was the weakest surviving wolf of her family. She had a free pass into the wolf academy because her father was once the head master, but what started as a privilege turned into a nightmare after her mate rejected her. Calla became the laughing stock of the academy, and her weakness was preyed upon. Just when she plans on running off, the academy assigns her to the territory of Alpha Garrick, the iron fisted alpha of Fangspire pack. Calla’s arrival stirs something long buried, not only in the Alpha himself but also in his son, Lucan Browler, the pack’s next heir. Trapped between two Alphas and the shadows from her past, Calla must learn that most times, fate makes us the author of our own stories.

Milo Petrov ruled Russia’s underworld with an iron fist. For years, I was nothing more than his possession—his plaything, his captive. His wealth and dangerous charm ensnared me, but I couldn’t escape the truth: I was nothing more than a pawn in his game. At just 19 years old, I never imagined my life would spiral so far out of control. He was ruthless, but everything about him intrigued me. The only problem? I had once loved his son, Andrew. Now I found myself torn between the deadly allure of Milo and the guilt of betraying Andrew, my first love. Could blood really be thicker than desire? My name is Emilie, and this is the twist story of how Milo Petrov took my heart and shattered my world.

t was in the stark interrogation room where Caesar laid eyes on Lola's face for the very first time. Lola, accused of betraying her own country, was in a dire situation. She was draped in nothing but a flimsy, damp garment and weighed down by the clanking chains that bound her to the floor. Clad in his regal black military uniform, Caesar sat as the judge of her trial. Years later, when news of their lavish wedding emerged, the world assumed it was the genesis of their love story. "They said when Caesar, once a general, first saw Lola, shivering in agony and desperation, his heart swelled with empathy. He tenderly removed his black gloves and reached out to her with love." In reality, Caesar never removed his gloves throughout the trial. He sat outside the iron railing, observing Lola with a frigid countenance. But it wasn't until yesterday that Caesar finally held Lola in his arms.

A pack of Rogues holds my mother, Celia Hale, hostage and clutches an iron chest like it's treasure. Lillian Parker, my mate's first love, points at the chest through her tears. "That chest… It's all I have left of my mother." However, the boulder above my mother's head is already loose, and it could crush her at any moment. I desperately beg my mate and the Alpha of the Silvermoon pack, Ares Hamilton. "Save my mom first! Please!" He just glances at me with a frown. "Celia's a strong she-wolf. She'll be fine. Margaret is already gone. That chest matters more." With that, he gestures for most of the fighters to move toward the chest. Only two young werewolves, barely steady on their feet, reluctantly step toward Celia. I stare at him in disbelief. In the end, they recover the chest, but my mother is dead.