Kirito X Asuna Wedding

Odette Cadell, the once-cherished heiress of the Red Moon pack, endures a heart-wrenching betrayal as her mate, Aslan, annihilates her pack and slaughters her family for power. Reborn through her grandmother's sacrifice, Odette loses her wolf but gains an unwavering resolve for revenge. Unexpectedly, Odette becomes entangled with the infamous yet mesmerizing Alphas of Doom—Liev, the cold; Axel, the crazy; and Devyn, the cruel. Cursed to be mateless, they find an unexpected salvation in Odette. As Aslan sets a war in motion, Odette and her newfound mates, initially far from friends or lovers, unite against a common foe. In this gripping tale of love, passion, and bloodshed, survival is critical as Odette navigates the possessiveness, lust, and obsession of the lethal Alphas, who claim to despise her. Amidst the impending war, will the territories emerge victorious or succumb to defeat? What fate awaits the reborn Odette and her ill-fated bonds with the Alphas of Doom? Even the moon goddess can't tell what will unfold in this riveting saga of love and war. Beware: This is a dark romance.

April Robinson has just come of age: the time when most werewolves discover their fated mates. But instead of joy, she finds heartbreak. The moment she meets her destined mate, he rejects her. Worse, he imprisons her, tortures her, and strips away everything—and everyone—she holds dear. Shattered but not broken, April escapes, determined to uncover the truth about her lineage. But her journey awakens an ancient enemy that had long lain dormant—one with ties to her bloodline and a thirst for vengeance. Enter Alpha Cassius. Hardened, powerful, and not looking for love, Cassius never expected to fall for April. She’s not his mate, but that doesn’t stop him from choosing her—protecting her, cherishing her, loving her. Just when April starts to believe she’s found peace, fate throws her another curveball: her second chance mate, Jason Parker. Jason, Beta of his pack, has all but given up on love. Betrayed by someone who used him for status, he’s nursing wounds of his own when April stumbles into his territory. The instant connection is undeniable—but with April’s past still haunting her and Jason’s own scars fresh, the path forward is anything but simple. Can two hearts broken by betrayal learn to trust again? Will April choose the bond of fate or the love she’s built from choice? And with enemies closing in from all sides—old and new—will love be enough to survive the coming storm? In a battle between destiny and desire, who will win: the heart or the mate bond?

The scoundrel cheated on his sister, and she caught him in the marital bed. In a fit of rage, she put on her wedding dress and climbed into the bed of the scoundrel's younger uncle, and thus transformed herself into his little aunt.

Marcus Webb didn't believe in ghosts. It was not until he woke up in Prometheus House with no memory of how he got there and met the devastatingly beautiful man who claims to be his roommate. Silas Ashford is perfect. Too perfect. He doesn't eat, doesn't sleep, and casts no reflection in mirrors. When Marcus discovers a photograph from 1924 showing Silas standing beside a man who looks exactly like him, the truth becomes impossible to deny. Silas is a ghost, bound to the facility for a hundred years, waiting for someone he can't remember. Marcus is a tech billionaire who died six months ago in a car accident, his body in a coma, his soul trapped in the between. They were lovers in a past life. Michael and Silas, 1924. They died in a fire trying to escape an abusive sanatorium. Michael survived long enough to reincarnate. Silas has been waiting ever since. Now, the facility's sinister director, a reaper who feeds on trapped souls will do anything to keep them apart. The building is collapsing, and time is running out. Marcus must choose: wake up and live, forgetting Silas forever, or stay and risk losing everything. To free Silas, Marcus will have to destroy the anchors binding him to this world, confront the creature born from their shared tragedy, and burn Prometheus House to the ground a second time. Some love stories survive death. He's not real, But he's mine, and I'll set the world on fire to keep him.

When Layla Beth returns from London for her sister’s wedding, she expects chaos—just not this kind. Her sister Yuri met Xavier Russell only six months ago, and now, on the wedding day, Yuri vanishes—leaving Xavier abandoned at the altar and their families in scandal. To protect their reputation, Layla’s mother forces her into Yuri’s place. In one night, Layla goes from the guest to the bride. Now married to her sister’s fiancé, Layla is trapped in a storm of secrets, betrayal, and forbidden desire. Xavier is cold, controlled, impossible to read—but the spark between them burns too hot to ignore. And as Layla falls deeper into Xavier’s dangerous world, she begins to wonder: did Yuri really run away… or was this twisted fate always meant for her?

There's about half a month to our wedding when Daniel Bradshaw and I get into a horrible fight. The reason? He wants to have a child with his mentor's daughter. "We're only going to do IVF—it's not like we're doing anything else! My mentor is gravely ill now, and his only wish is to see Phoebe have someone she can rely on!" Daniel sounds indifferent, but my blood runs cold. "It's half a month to our wedding, yet you're going to have a child with another woman. Don't you find that ridiculous?" I watch as he storms off and slams the door shut behind him. Then, I update my social media. "I'm getting married in half a month, but I need a new groom. Is anyone up for it?"

The air in the Parisian haute couture salon smelled like money and fear. I’d waited six months for my wedding dress. Now, it was draped over the shoulders of Sofia Ross—the trending influencer, and my mafia fiancé Vincent Cassio’s god-sister. The salon manager was sweating bullets, his eyes darting between me and the man lounging on the velvet sofa. Vincent Cassio stood up. He adjusted a fold of the diamond-encrusted train on Sofia with a casual flick of his wrist. “Her premiere next week needs a statement piece. She’s borrowing it. Pick something off the rack and stop making a scene.” His tone was flat, final. Under the crystal chandeliers, Sofia admired herself in the full-length mirror, a triumphant smile on her lips. I looked at my reflection in the same mirror, wearing jeans and a soaked trench coat. I looked like a lost tourist. Suddenly, the entire past year of planning felt like a sick joke. I didn’t yell. I just felt cold. Numb. I slipped the five-carat engagement ring off my finger. It hit the glass coffee table with a sharp, final click. “You’re right, Vincent. I don’t need this wedding dress. This wedding… I don’t need it either.”

No one knows that Ingrid Steele, the CEO who's currently talking about how her company bans office romances on the podium, has begged me to do it with her eight times in a row last night. Her secretary leans in and murmurs into my ear, "I heard that our cold and aloof CEO has plans to reveal her husband's identity recently. Rumors say that she even plans on throwing him an extremely grand wedding just to make it up to him." Warmth floods my heart at that moment. It's then I decide to make the great news of me winning a billion dollars in the lottery a wedding gift for Ingrid. Our daughter, Gaby Newman, no longer has to hide anymore in life. The three of us can publicly spend time together as a family now! The next day, I put on the suit that Ingrid has given me eight years ago. Then, I enter the wedding venue. As soon as I open the door, I see Ingrid leading her first love, Hank Conley, up the stage. After they exchange rings with each other, they share a sweet kiss in front of everyone in a tight embrace. In the end, Ingrid tosses her wedding bouquet at the guests. Coincidentally, it lands right in my hands. Someone next to me gives me a light shove. "What are you waiting for? Give them your blessings already!" I just clap for the newlyweds while walking toward them. "Congratulations, you two! I hope that you can live happily ever after and that you'll have a bundle of joy soon! No, make it 108 babies, how about that?" As soon as my words fall, I turn on my heel and stride away. As expected, Ingrid doesn't chase after me. She doesn't even bother calling me nor explaining everything to me.

I loved my stepbrother, Simon Rossi, the Don, for ten years. When he got poisoned one day, I offered myself to him and ended up pregnant. He smoked half a packet of cigarettes before saying, “I’ll take responsibility for this.” However, his first love, Camillia, claimed that she had an asthma attack on our wedding day. I begged Simon to wait until our ceremony was over before going to her. Unfortunately, Camillia escaped the hospital and died on her way to find him. Prior to her death, she called Simon 99 times. But he did not answer even once because of our wedding ceremony. When I found out, I felt terrible. Yet, Simon was exceptionally calm. After our wedding, my health deteriorated exponentially, and I bled heavily during childbirth. Just as I was about to die, I heard the doctor sigh softly. “Mr. Rossi, you’re ruthless. The poison you gave your wife has seeped into her bones. The baby can’t be saved either.” “Camillia suffered the same pain before her death.” When I opened my eyes again, I had gone back to the night before everything happened.

On the day that was supposed to be my wedding—the bride wasn’t me. The ceremony I’d waited for five years for turned into a joke when Valentina, my sister, walked down the marble aisle in a white wedding dress. Her arm was linked with Luca’s — the man who was supposed to be waiting for me at the altar. “I’m sorry, Bianca,” she said softly. “But you are no longer the bride today.” Then she touched her stomach, eyes gleaming with triumph. “I’m pregnant with Don Romano’s child.” Her words detonated inside my skull, and the whole world went silent. As if afraid I wouldn’t believe her, she lifted something glossy up towards the light. A black-and-white ultrasound image. It read clearly: Gestational age — 12 weeks. My eyes burned, tears stinging as I turned to Luca, desperately searching for anything—a denial, an explanation, regret. Instead, he only sighed, weary and resigned. “Bianca, I’m sorry.” he said helplessly. “Valentina doesn’t have much time left. This wedding… it was her last wish.” “I’ll make it up to you,” he added. “We can have another wedding later.” My father, Moretti, stood behind him, wearing the same stern expression he’d worn my entire life. I have never seen him smile at me, not even once. “Bianca,” he said sharply, “Your sister is dying. Let her have this.” My brother nodded without saying a single word, as if that was enough to be a solid answer. All my life, they had chosen her—her tears, her whims, her needs—over mine. Today was no different. Something inside me quietly cracked. Fine. If no one in this family cares about me, I’ll leave.