Irène Cahen D'anvers Novels & Stories

I used to be a top ballet dancer. The year I was diagnosed with a spinal hemangioma, my boyfriend Julian Blackwood said, "Wherever you go, I go." We'd been together three years. He walked beside me as I went, step by step, from the most luminous dancer on that stage to a woman in a wheelchair. Every time the nerve pain hit and I collapsed, he was the one who lifted me off the floor. Every round of electrostim and acupuncture, he sat in the corridor outside the therapy room and waited for me to come out. Before I got sick, he promised me—the night I finished my final performance of Swan Lake, we'd sign the marriage license. He'd bought tickets for that show three months in advance. I never stood on that stage again. And the marriage license never came up. Until the morning I noticed the collar of his white dress shirt carried a smudge of lipstick that wasn't mine. I heard him on the balcony. A woman's voice on the other end. "Mr. Blackwood, you left your jacket at the hotel last night. I'll bring it over." I stared at that smear of red, and something in me snapped. I laughed. "Send me to Westbrook. The locked-down rehab facility. I don't want to drag you down anymore." Something flickered in his eyes—a brief, animal panic. Then he nodded. He thought I meant rest. He didn't know I'd already signed the papers to donate my body to science. I was going there to die.

My twin sister Elena and I were mated to the Alpha twins. Only the first pup born between my sister and me would become the pack’s Alpha heir. My sister got pregnant a month before me and she was supposed to give birth to the heir first, but I went into labor prematurely a month early. But when I was about to give birth, I chose to sit in a chamber filled with special potions that suppresses contractions. Because in my previous life, my Alpha mate Marcus had dragged me into wolfsbane-laced water to delay my labor. In the end, both my pup and I had died there. The agony had been unbearable. I'd sobbed and pleaded, begging him to explain why he was doing this to me. But he'd ignored my cries completely. All he cared about was rushing Elena to the pack's birthing den. "My brother Gabriel died saving my life," he'd snarled at me then. "The only way to honor that blood debt is to ensure his child becomes the pack heir. You can resent Elena all you want on any other day, but not today. Just hold on a little longer." "This is a special potion. You'll be safe and sound. Trust me!" Safe？ I'd suffered in that basement chamber for an entire day and night. My child suffocated in my womb while the wolfsbane poisoning consumed me. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day of my labor. This time, I have to save myself.

THEIR FORBIDDEN LOVE MAY GET THEM BOTH KILLED... (Excerpt) He pressed his arousal against her soft body. You know how much I desire to have you, Diana. Tell me you want me, too.” Shaking her head, her eyes misted. He growled at her stubbornness. Then he nuzzled his cheek against hers, enjoying the delicate ivory fragrance she'd washed with, hoping she’d succumb to his advances. He ran his finger over her firm nipple. “I won't let Ragnar have you. We’ll return to the pack and then—” “No. He’ll kill you. I don’t want you for a mate. Don't you understand?” She tried to pull away from him, her voice heated with anger. “I don’t want you.” But he recognized from her words and actions that it wasn't true; he’d use every trick he knew to convince her to tell the truth.

Ryleigh didn’t remember being taken—only the cold bite of night and the blur of snarling shadows. Now she was locked in a cell beneath an unfamiliar pack house, her wrists sore, her memories foggy, and her heart pounding with questions. Her parents were dead, she’d just learned she was adopted, and now this—kidnapped by creatures that shouldn’t exist. Werewolves. Real ones. And someone with the initial D had left her a single note: You’re safe. Trust me. – D But safety felt like a lie. Especially after she witnessed a man shift before her eyes. Especially when the Alpha of the pack, Damien—arrogant, powerful, and dangerously charming—claimed ownership of her fate. Her only comfort came from Dr. Derek Blackthorn, the Alpha’s estranged brother, a healer with kind eyes and secrets of his own. In a house ruled by strict laws, bloodlines, and bitter alliances, Ryleigh must survive a world she was never meant to know. One where love could be her only weapon—or her greatest downfall.

Ivana Blake never imagined that marrying into one of the wealthiest families in New York would feel like a sentence instead of salvation. Her new husband, Ethan D’Amelio, is charming in public but distant behind closed doors, quickly swept away by his corporate empire. Left alone in the cavernous D’Amelio estate, Ivana finds herself watched, haunted—not by ghosts, but by a man far more dangerous: Christopher D’Amelio. Her husband’s stepfather. Cold. Ruthless. Beautiful in a way that burns. He is the man no one dares challenge. The man she should avoid at all costs. But when glances turn into confessions, and silence turns into touches, Ivana begins to unravel a dangerous obsession neither of them can resist. What begins as curiosity turns into a tangled web of passion, betrayal, and secrets that threaten to destroy them both. As the walls close in and her marriage crumbles, Ivana must choose between the safety of a lie—or the fire of a love that should never exist. This is not a love story. It’s a descent into desire, power, and the darkest corners of the human heart.

I was a famed assassin. She knew my name. Everyone did. Feral. Death's very own hound. But she was the one that'd left our hut in the dead of night. And I wasn't one to forget something like that. I'd gone looking for her when she left things the way she did. She was nowhere to be found then. Yet here she is now. Standing in my tavern. With her cloak in a pile around her ankles and offering me her body in plain view of every rogue in here. Bold move. But she was nothing if not that. She thought I'd give in and said yes to this venture to rescue someone she loved because of some misplaced honor. Not in the least! I said yes because I intend to wreak vengeance on her, for what she did to me. Every chance I get, I'm going to make her miserable. And I'm going to take great pleasure in doing so. Welcome to my world Warrioress. Where the price of vengeance comes much higher than a bit o' coin.

After eight years together, I took a hit for my surgeon boyfriend. Milton Woodard vowed I could ask for anything. Everyone assumed I'd seize the chance to propose, locking him down for good. Instead, I looked him in the eye and said, "Let's break up." Then I walked away without a backward glance. Milton smirked, betting with his buddies that I'd come crawling back in under three days, calling me a desperate lapdog chasing his attention. He was dead wrong because I'd been reborn. In my last life, I proposed to him and won. Overwhelmed by the news, his first love threw herself off a rooftop and killed herself. Milton unleashed his grief-fueled rage on me. On our wedding night, he slashed my face and locked me in a dank, claustrophobic basement. When I got pregnant, he force-fed me supplements until the baby grew too big for me to deliver. I hemorrhaged, torn apart, and died in agony on the birthing table. Now, reborn on the day I saved his life, I was done playing his fool.

She’d escaped me once. She’d not do it again. I am the brother of the Alpha of the Asara Pack. I did everything she asked of me. She was a queen up on her throne. I was her Captain of the Guard. Her secret assassin killing anyone who'd threaten her. I had declared my intent to claim her as my mate. And she had fled. Like the coward she is. Still she went ahead and seduced me, bidding me do whatever vile thing she commanded. Now she claims to rule this kingdom. However, her people are starving and her new fiancé is to blame. But will she hear a word of it? Of course not! Well, I've found a way to make her listen. To no longer allow her to deny what she really is. To rip her from her sanctuary amongst the humans. It's high time she learn a she-wolf’s place in this realm. She needs a real king, and it won't be that sniveling lord with designs on her. It's going to be me. She’ll learn I'm no longer hers to command. She is mine.

At his Alpha succession ceremony, Damien seated his childhood sweetheart in the Luna's chair, then dropped a mate bond severance agreement in front of me. “Once the bond's dissolved, I'll give you money. Enough to live comfortably for the rest of your life. One condition: stay away from Serena.” I signed without hesitation but I didn't take a cent. “Don't worry. I'll disappear from your lives for good.” That night I went home, took out the silver knife I'd already prepared, and dragged it across my wrist. Twenty-five years ago I'd crossed into this world of werewolves. For twenty-five years I'd worked to win over three protagonists, and every last attempt had failed. The Moon Goddess had told me: once this body died, I could go home, back to my parents. I lay on the cold floor and waited for the end. As my mind went hazy, I felt no fear, only a strange, giddy relief. And right as I was slipping away, I thought I heard someone screaming my name.

Leon Santoro's ex-wife and their daughter pushed me down the stairs. I lost the baby. Leon came to see me in the hospital. He sat beside the bed, his expression as composed as always, and said, "She's a child. She didn't know what she was doing. I'm sorry you had to go through this. I apologize for Rosalie." "That's it?" I asked. "Just an apology?" He turned to look at me. "What else do you want? Money? Stock?" "I can't exactly make Rosalie pay with her life for what happened to your child." Your child. Not our child. So he truly never cared about the baby I was carrying. He'd made a promise to his ex-wife Giselle: Rosalie would be his only child. When I told him I was pregnant, he'd barely reacted. Just a shrug and a flat "I know," like I'd told him the weather. Thinking about it now, I looked at him and asked quietly, "You're relieved, aren't you? Now that the baby's gone."