Maeve Throne Of Glass Novels & Stories

At a gathering, I discover that the guy my best friend, Rachel Jost, secretly has a crush on has slipped something into her drink. When he brings the glass over to her, I deliberately knock it over, spilling the spiked wine and saving her life. He storms out in anger. The very next day, he announces his engagement to someone else. Rachel comes to me in a rage, convinced that I sabotaged her out of jealousy. "Stella Leigh, if you hadn't interfered, I would've already slept with him! The one he wants to marry would've been me! You just couldn't stand seeing me happy! You ruined my shot at love, so you'll pay for it with your life!" She pushes me off a high building. I fall to my death, my body reduced to a pulp that is beyond recognition. When I open my eyes again, I am back on the day of that gathering. Rachel is sitting next to me, stealing adoring glances at the man across from her. The next moment, she turns to glare at me and warns me not to meddle with vicious eyes. Seems like she is reborn, too. But what she doesn't know is that the man she secretly loves has always despised her for being obsessed with him. What he added to that glass of wine isn't some aphrodisiac—it is something that can kill her.

A single line of code was all it took to catch a monster’s attention. After infiltrating the world’s most secure tech empire, a brilliant young hacker, Elliot Lane, finds himself taken—not to jail—but to the glass penthouse of Timothy Blackwood, a cold, calculating billionaire. Timothy doesn’t rage. He doesn’t threaten. He studies. He claims. He obsesses. What begins as punishment becomes possession… and what begins as control slowly turns into something far more dangerous. A desire neither of them is ready to admit.

Ann’s father Joe brought her step-mother and step-sister home immediately after Ann’s mother died. Like Cinderella, Ann had hard time dealing with these two new family members. One day, Ann drank a glass of cocktail which was brought by step-mother to her, and she became unconscious soon after that. When woke up the next morning, Ann found herself naked in a hotel room. Besides, there was blood on the sheet. What happened the night before? What would happen to her next? Ann was confused.

In a world of werewolf nations torn apart by ancient conflicts, Amara, a Royal Consort with only trace amounts of Alpha blood, struggles to find her place in a society where her voice is silenced and her destiny predetermined. Tasked with the daunting duty of increasing the dwindling Alpha population as a worthy Luna, she is shattered when denied a chance to contend for the throne during The Coronation. However, fate takes an unexpected turn when one contender mysteriously vanishes, opening a path for Amara to seize her opportunity. But the cost of claiming the throne may prove too high as she becomes a mere pawn in a deadly game, forced to suppress her emotions and navigate a treacherous path where survival is weighed against everything she holds dear. Can she overcome the shadows of the past and embrace her true Alpha nature, or will the burdens of duty and power crush her spirit?

“You wear my mark,” the Alpha King growled, fingers tightening around Nyra’s wrist as the bond flared painfully between them. “But you are not my mate.” Across the hall, the woman beside his throne smiled, her borrowed bite glowing faintly against her skin, while Nyra’s shadow burned beneath her clothes, answering a call no lie could silence. Nyra Vale was cast out as a wolfless omega, betrayed by her lover, erased by her pack, and condemned for a mark she never meant to wear. But the bite on her shoulder belongs to Rhaegon Ashmoor, the Alpha King who claimed her in darkness… and was deceived into crowning another. As a false Luna ascends the throne, the real mate awakens something ancient and forbidden within Nyra, an inheritance powerful enough to shatter kingdoms and drive an Alpha mad with hunger. A stolen mark. A hollow bond. And a mate who refuses to kneel.

My mother's honey shop served only women, and she sold only one type of honey. The honey was contained in small glass jars, and it had an eerie name—Heart-Eroding Honey. Whenever women came to buy honey, my mother would personally lead them through the shop and into the mysterious beehive room in the backyard. Shortly after the door was closed, there would always be faint, suppressed moans coming from inside. I never knew whether it was from pain or satisfaction. However, when the women reemerged, they would all have rosy faces and radiant smiles, as if they had been completely nourished.

After returning home from a flight, I realize that my bottle of hair conditioner has run out in the bathroom. The thing is, my husband, Carlos Zappa, doesn't use hair conditioner at all. Seeing Carlos through the frosted glass, I decide to probe him for answers. "Did any guests stay over lately? Or have you started doing hair care?" Carlos flips through the documents, which are stamped with the Zappa family crest, impatiently at my questions. "Maybe a maid accidentally toppled the bottle over when she was cleaning the bathroom. Also, why are you annoying me with such minuscule matters?" When I put on the bathrobe, I feel a ticklish sensation coming from the collar. As soon as I look down, I notice a strand of dried yellow hair being entangled in the collar. The moment the steam dissipates, I see two pairs of intertwining handprints on the bathroom's glass door. I never thought that my home would grow this popular during my one-week trip away from home. I've been married to Carlos for three years, and yet this is my first time finding out that he's actually this wild in bed. So, I secretly text my father, the Don of the Carozza family. "Dad, Carlos has cheated on me. Does the bet we made three years ago still count?"

After a mysterious fire destroys her life, Elena Rawlings is forced into a 100-day contract marriage with the ruthless Alexander Vance. The rules are simple: don't enter the East Wing, provide bi-weekly blood draws, and never talk to the woman in the mirrors. But as the line between high-tech science and dark obsession blurs, Elena discovers she isn't a wife, she’s a biological vessel for Alexander’s digital sister. In a house made of glass and lies, Elena must decide if she will run for her life or stay to conquer the man who owns her soul.

Two pink lines on a pregnancy test. I was going to surprise my husband, Vince, the Moretti family heir. Instead, the surprise was on me. A pair of black lace panties—not mine—left in his car. The air reeked of cheap perfume and betrayal. I stormed his casino, demanding answers. But I found her in his private suite. Sophia. She smirked, looking me up and down. “You must be the wife. I’ve seen your picture on the nightstand. Vince says you’re a boring little nun. Says he can’t even get hard looking at you.” I snapped. My hand shaking, I hurled a glass of red wine in her face. She shrieked, stumbled back, and crashed into a glass cabinet. Blood bloomed across the carpet. Vince burst in and slapped me so hard I hit the floor. "Are you insane?! She's carrying my heir!" My heart shattered. As I fell, a darker pool of blood spread beneath me. Our baby. I was miscarrying. And when forced to choose between his wife and his whore, Vince chose her. He forgot who put him on his throne. I’m not some trophy wife he can discard. I am a DeLuca. A princess of the underworld. So for revenge, I married his worst enemy, Dante Costello. And when we burned his empire to the ground, Vince finally broke. He got on his knees and begged me to come back.

For centuries, the empire of Jerash had known only one perpetual enemy, blood suckers. Emperor Julius, having killed hundreds of them, hands over the throne to his son, Sebastian. But just after Sebastian's arranged marriage to the fairest princess in the land, they are attacked by blood suckers and Sebastian gets bitten.