Kobe Behind The Backboard Shot

***Book two of Her Beta Mate Months ago I wouldn't have believed that werewolves exist, they weren't supposed to, at least that's what the people of Cascade Falls used to believe. When a letter meant for my brother ends up in my hands, a new world opens up before me, one that doesn't just threaten the werewolf realm, but even my best friend too. With Jaxon now gone rogue, there's only so many people left to protect Silver Moon and her life. But can I put old feelings aside to fight for the people who have become dear to me? Even if it keeping them alive means I'll give another woman a shot at the happiness I so desperately want? Jax says I mean more to him than anything else, that's the reason he's keeping me at arms length, but we both know the truth. I'm human, not a hybrid like Halie, they'll never accept me and have an equally worse time accepting him. And even worse, to protect them, I have become their enemy.

After my mother shot down my pleas to cover my medical bills the 100th time, I clutched my bone cancer diagnosis papers and trudged to the crematorium. "Hi, I'd like to reserve a cremation slot ahead of time," I muttered to the clerk. Half an hour ticked by before my parents and adopted brother arrived in their car. My dad, a forensic pathologist, cracked me across the face. "You're pulling a fake-death stunt now, just to steal the spotlight from your brother?" My mom, a hospital director, snatched the papers from my hands and shredded them into confetti. "Faking records using my credentials and tying up hospital resources? You've crossed the line!" My brother cried, tugging at their sleeves. "It's all my fault. I'll skip the amusement park forever. I don't need a thing. Just quit riling up Mom and Dad." I spun around, my hand pressed against my throbbing chest, and begged the crematorium staff. "Please, when it's time, cremate me and scatter the ashes in the river. I've got no family left in this world."

On the flight to Arlencia, a post popped up: [What's it like to have sex in a wedding dress?] The pic showed a girl yanking some guy's purple tie while he hiked up her gown. His face was blurred, but hers? Straight-up blissed out. Everyone in the comments was swooning over how in love they looked. I didn't swoon. I froze. Because that purple tie? I gave it to Zeke Santoro, my fiancé, a few days ago. And that wedding dress? The exact custom one he had made for me. There was only one. I kept zooming in, heart racing, until I spotted a family photo in the background. My hands were shaking when I called him. "I wanna see the dress," I said. He hesitated. "It's at the studio getting final touches. Not with me right now. I'll show it to you later." I just smiled and hung up. That was all I needed. Zeke cheated—and the girl? His stepsister, Jella. Total circus. I reopened the post and shot her a DM: [Your wedding dress is stunning. I have the same one.]

"You hate me, right?" I shook my head but he pulled me closer to his chest. "Feelings are mutual honey," his hot minty breath reached to my ears. He gripped my arms tightly and I winced from the pain. A tear fell from my eyes, I tried to push him but he was way stronger than me. "Daniyal, it's hurting" i cried out. "I know right," he smirked at me. He leaned into me and his lips were about to touch mine, I pushed him away with full force "What were you doing with me Daniyal?" I yelled, his face was red from anger, he held my wrist and pushed me to the walls. "You think, I'll do this with you, really?" He let out a loud chuckle and shot a glare at me. "You're just a piece of trash,my dad bought for me to play but I don't wanna lower my standard so don't worry, I'm not gonna touch you, " his words shattered my heart into pieces. I was his wife, his unwanted wife.

“What if I told you I don’t care?” Amelia shot back, her tone sharp and unwavering. Miguel’s lips curved into a sly smile, his eyes gleaming with challenge. “Then I’d say you’re lying to yourself, Mia. Because no one fights this hard unless they feel something.” Amelia Hart’s quiet, predictable life is upended when her mother marries the wealthy Emilio Sanchez, bringing Amelia face-to-face with her new stepbrother, Miguel Angel Sanchez. Wanton, arrogant, and infuriatingly charming, Miguel is everything she detests in a person. But sharing a home—and a school—turns Amelia’s disdain into a fiery rivalry, and their clashes soon spark something neither of them can deny. Torn between her lifelong crush on the handsome, dependable Christian Grammer and the undeniable pull toward Miguel’s dangerous charm, Amelia’s world becomes even more complicated than she imagined. As secrets are exposed and the pressures of their families, the media, and their own hearts collide, Amelia and Miguel must decide whether to risk it all for a love that feels as impossible as it does inevitable. In this passionate enemies-to-lovers story, where love and hate blur at every turn, the greatest risk might just be following their hearts.

"I, Alpha Xander Kovani, reject you, the cursed Cara Smyth, as my mate!" He growled before the crowd, shattering me because this meant my end. I had no one else but him, and now he had abandoned me. Tears stained my cheeks as I whispered through the pain burning my throat. "I, Cara Smyth, accept your rejection, Alpha Xander..." I screamed when they seized my arm and took me. Now, a ruthless Lycan King awaited me on the other side. *** Cara Smyth worked as an underground doctor for the supernatural. She shifted faces when the house calls got too dangerous, but she could never be too lucky. Because, when a wolf tycoon's blood died on her watch, not even her ability could save her from his wrath. The Lycan King of Eastmoon, Kaloyan Kaine, suddenly had two handfuls to take care of; special twin sons abandoned in the woods. He's looking for a nanny, offered at the price of a million dollars, because she would also become his wife. Meanwhile, Cara sees her shot at staying alive in Kaloyan's proposal.

My husband, Garrett Kachmar, vanished overseas with his ex, Linda Sharpe. They left me with one thing—an illegitimate, screaming baby. Twenty years later, I posted that my "son" had passed his exams. He was joining the police force. That's when Garrett came back. With Linda. And a lawsuit. At the plaintiff's table, Linda looked polished—soft makeup, perfect posture. Her voice? Pure control. "After Garrett divorced, we got married and had a big, healthy boy. Jemma couldn't stand seeing us happy, so she stole our son. We searched for twenty years. She refuses to give him back. We're his biological parents. We have the right to take him." Garrett shot me a glare. "Jemma, just because you can't have kids doesn't mean you get to steal mine." The trial was livestreamed. The comments exploded. [Can't have your own kid so you steal one?] [You destroyed a family. Sick.] [Give him back to his real parents!] Then my "son" was called into the courtroom. And the whole room went dead quiet.

I burned my painting right in front of the students and university staff. Thunderous applause filled the hall. Everyone thought it was some kind of performance. But my senior in the graduate program panicked. He rushed forward and grabbed my wrist, his voice tight. “Connor, have you gone mad? This is your only shot to prove yourself!” I shook him off, cold. A chance? That was his chance, right? During my past life, he stole the painting I poured my heart and soul into and entered it in the competition ahead of me. The composition, the colors, even my original technique… He copied all of it. He won the Gold Award for the National Youth Art Competition, signed with a top gallery, and basked in glory. Meanwhile, I was branded a shameless plagiarist. The insults and curses overwhelmed me completely. "Get out of the art scene already!" “A plagiarist like you should just die!” His fans stormed my studio, smashed my tools, and broke my right hand. With my world in ruins, I jumped off the studio roof. Opening my eyes again, I realized I had returned to the day my senior accused me of plagiarism.

"What could that be?" I whispered to myself as I felt something moved so fast behind me. It was dark at night and I had only a dim-lighted lamp to see my way through this thick forest. "Oh my God!!" I shrieked in fear as I felt a hand wrapped around my waist as I perceived the smell of warm human blood from behind me.

I lifted my head from Rhys's arms, his strong chest rising and falling against my cheek. Silk sheets tangled around our naked bodies, the air thick with the scent of our passion. After a passionate night with my childhood friend, the Mafia heir, I was jolted awake at three in the morning by the shrill ring of a phone. It was the Don, ordering me to bring Rhys back to the estate for an arranged marriage. I figured it was just another heiress trying to claw her way into the Griffin family, so I kissed his forehead, pressing myself against him and whispering with a low laugh. "Rhys, what's your plan for this boring princess?" He arched an eyebrow, wrapping a lazy arm around my waist. "Baby, make sure you pick out a good tie for me. I need to make a good impression on my future father-in-law." Seeing me freeze, Rhys sat up and shot me a casual glance, his voice laced with indifference. "Maeve, what's with that reaction? We're just having fun." "You didn't actually think you were going to be the next Donna of the Griffin family, did you?"