Mariah Sinclair

In the Sinclair pack, I had always been different. Years ago, my grandfather saved the Elder’s life. To repay that debt, the Elder promised that one of his grandsons would become my mate. In my first life, on the night of the Blood Moon, he asked me, “Evelyn, who will you choose?” Blushing, I pointed to the brightest star of the tribe, Andrew Sinclair. But after our wedding, he kept me at a distance. I was confused—until one night, I opened the wrong door. Andrew was on one knee, clutching my cousin Clara’s portrait as if it were his lifeline. His body moved in a way that made my heart twist. My world collapsed. He had never loved me. His heart—his desire—had always belonged to her. Darkness swallowed me, body and soul. My husband lied to me and betrayed the oath we had sworn to the Moon Goddess. The cruel truth broke me, and sickness followed. I died with his child inside me—alone. But the moon gave me another chance. I woke again on that same night. The Elder smiled down at me. Four portraits lay before him. “Evelyn, tonight is your twenty-first rite. Who will you choose?” “You’ve always chased Andrew,” he said kindly. “It must be him—” “No!” The hall fell silent. “Grandfather… I don’t want Andrew.” In panic, I snatched a portrait. “I want him!” The boy on the page wore black. His skin was pale, his lips curved in a mad, crooked smile. William Sinclair. The sick wolf. The one everyone mocked. But I remembered how he had tried to help me find a good doctor. He was the only one who had cared about me when I was dying. And yes—this time, I chose him.

Emery Sinclair had spent years perfecting the art of being the perfect wife. The devoted, loyal, and elegant Mrs. Sinclair. Even when whispers of her husband's infidelity trailed after her like a ghost, she held her head high, convinced that love—her love—was enough to fix the cracks in her marriage. But the moment she walks into that hotel suite and finds her husband entangled with another woman, something inside her shatters. She doesn’t cry. She doesn’t scream. Instead, she walks away, her heart numb, her mind spinning. The life she built is over. The man she sacrificed everything for never deserved her. Then comes Killian Wolfe. Cold, calculating, and ruthlessly powerful, Killian is everything her husband is not. And he is done watching from the sidelines. For years, he’s kept his distance, biting his tongue as his foolish stepbrother squandered the one good thing in his life. But now? Now, Killian doesn’t hold back. He steps in—offering her a way out, a place to stay, and, most dangerously, a deal she never saw coming. "Let me take care of you," he tells her, his voice a low, commanding whisper. She should say no. She should run. Because nothing about Killian Wolfe comes without a cost. But the way he looks at her—like she’s something precious, something worth ruining kingdoms for—makes her wonder if, just this once, she should let herself be wanted. The game changes in a single night. A kiss turns into something more, and before she knows it, she’s tangled in his sheets, in his world, and in his control. But Killian doesn't just want her in his bed. He wants everything—her body, her mind, her soul. And most terrifying of all? He wants her heart.

I reach for the door handle, the cold metal biting into my skin as I press my thumb against the latch. Before I can pull the door open, Cade's arm shoots out from behind me, slamming it shut. My body jolts, my heart leaping into my throat as I feel the heat of his body against my back. He lowers himself to me, his breath fanning my ear. "Are you walking out on me again, Elysian?” A shaky breath parts my lips, the hair on the back of my neck standing on its ends. "I never walked out on you, Cade…" My voice falters, betraying me. "Don't lie to me." His tone is aggressive. "I told you a long time ago never to walk away from me again. Are you always so careless?” I try to swallow, but my throat is too tight. "I'm sorry," I manage, the words barely audible. "You said that already," he challenges me, warning me to choose my next words carefully. But I can't. I can't think. I can't move. As his grip on the door tightens, I realize he's not giving me a choice. ⊰ Heartprints in the Void ⊱ My name is Elysian Reign, and I'm not extraordinary. His name is Cade Sinclair, and unlike me, he is extraordinary. At the age of 25, he inherited billions from his trillionaire father—David Sinclair. You never imagine that the love of your life's own father would manipulate his son's life to get rid of you—even if it means forcing him into an experimental hypnosis treatment. After three years, you'd think I'd have learned my lesson. You'd think I would've changed my identity and left the country after walking in on my first day at my new and finding out that Cade is now my boss.

Carissa s'était occupée de ses beaux-parents, utilisant sa dot pour améliorer le quotidien du foyer du général. Mais en retour, son mari avait cherché à se marier avec une autre générale, car selon lui, seuls ses mérites, ses exploits militaires et ses rêves pouvaient être compris par cette autre générale. Cet homme, Amance Warren, à qui elle avait consacré presque toute sa vie ainsi qu'à sa famille, la raillait : « Carissa, c'est grâce à Aurora et moi, grâce à notre bravoure face à de féroces ennemis, que tu as un train de vie aussi extravagant. Tu le réalises, ça ? Tu ne seras jamais aussi noble et admirable qu'Aurora. Tu ne fais que jouer des tours mesquins : des insinuations perfides, des calomnies doucereuses, des médisances déguisées en éloges et des dissimulations naïves, passant toute la journée à bavarder avec une bande de commères. » Carissa Sinclair, silencieuse face aux paroles déchirantes de cet homme, a quitté la maison. Le champ de bataille … Il avait raison. Elle avait presque oublié sa vie militaire, submergée par les bagatelles domestiques, se perdant elle-même. Après tout, elle venait d'une famille militaire. Elle était aussi une générale. Le fait qu'elle préparait les repas et faisait le ménage pour son mari ne signifiait pas qu'elle avait perdu son talent pour manier une lance !

Ava Sinclair is drowning in debt, desperate to save her critically ill twin brother. With nowhere else to turn, she seeks help from Damian Blackwood—her ruthless, emotionless CEO. But Damian has problems of his own. As an Alpha who despises women, he’s being pressured by his powerful grandmother to marry within a week. Furious, he vows to marry on his terms. A drunken call mistakenly connects him to Ava, where he demands she find him a woman. She misunderstands, insults him, and calls him a pervert. The next day, Damian summons her, revealing he knows about her financial struggles. He offers her a deal—marry him in exchange for clearing all her debts. Ava agrees but sets strict conditions: no touching, no mistresses in their home, and no breaking the contract. Damian smirks, thinking it will be an easy arrangement—until his wolf stirs at her presence. Despite his hatred for Omegas, his possessiveness grows. His wolf whispers, She is ours. Mark her. But Damian refuses to accept it. His past—his mother’s betrayal—fuels his loathing for the mate bond. Yet, Ava fights back against his dominance, defying him at every turn. Tension simmers, jealousy flares, and his control begins to shatter. When a rival Alpha targets Ava, Damian is forced into battle—not just against his enemies, but himself. In a moment of desperation, his wolf takes over. He realizes too late—Ava is his mate. But she’s gone. Kidnapped. Enraged, Damian unleashes his fury, tearing through his enemies. When he finally gets her back, she is broken, unwilling to trust him. For the first time, Damian Blackwood begs. "Give me one chance, Ava." But she won’t be caged. Now, he must fight—not as an Alpha, but as a man in love.

Bellatrix Sinclair, an 18-year-old weapons prodigy that despises werewolves for destroying her family has been secretly planning to join the human rebellion. However, she is forced into the Mate Selection Process and matched with Lazarus De Loughrey, the ruthless Werewolf King obsessed with claiming her. He shouldn't want her and she should hate him but they cannot resist each other. It's a twisted connection, entirely physical because all I am is his slave. My heart should belong to my best friend Emmett, a human. Atleast the guilt of betrayal wouldn't be eating away at my insides. ___________________________ “Yes please.” She begs. “Then fucking let me in.” I growled, this fury exploding with vengeance. I wanted to destroy her pussy. It was maddening, it was sickening, it was barbaric. But I never claimed to be saint. “Here that baby, that’s the sound of your greedy pussy sucking on my cock. Give me more, drench me.” “Lazarus.” She moans painfully, “Please let me come.” I’m doused in gasoline and set alight, sweat coats my skin as I pound into her faster and harder. I’m definitely hurting her, “Wanna come?” I rasped, “Not until I say so.” Pressing my lips onto hers, pushing my tongue into her mouth until I feel the sweetness of hers. The kiss is sloppy and filthy. She cries as I drive my cock into her, the intensity too much to handle, sweet tears sliding onto her cheeks. “Fuck yes.” I smile sadistically, licking her tears. “Cry for me Ma Cherie.” “Please, please let me come My King.” She pleads. “Say it again.” Lightening shooting down my spine as she begged, “My King, please let me come. I’ll be good.” I chuckled, “Try your luck to kill me Ma Cherie, I dare you.”

“Let’s end this. Let’s break up,” he said, his voice cold. “Stacy is the only woman I’ve ever loved,” he continued, humiliating her in front of everyone at his birthday party. Cassia’s head spun as she stood there, unable to move or utter a word. For the past five years, she had put him first in everything, even choosing him over her career and future. She loved him so deeply that she wouldn’t have minded losing it all just to be with him. Her only desire was to have his heart, but despite all her sacrifices, when his first love returned, he chose her, neglecting Cassia and shattering her entire world. How was she supposed to pick herself up after giving everything for him? But Cassia was determined. She vowed to get back at him—and at everyone who underestimated her. After he chose his first love over her, she resolved to start fresh, become successful, and compete with Darvan’s company. This time, her revenge would be cold and calculated. She wouldn’t be swayed by emotions again. Now, however, she was torn between two charming men: a well-known senior in the design world and Darvan’s uncle, who controlled a significant portion of the family’s business shares. She wondered whether she should align herself with her senior or use Darvan’s uncle to bring down the entire family. Meanwhile, Darvan realized too late that he needed her back. He had fallen deeply in love with her. “Please, let’s get back together. I want to fight for us this time,” the famous Darvan Sinclair begged, dropping to his knees and pleading for her forgiveness. He would do more than just beg if it meant keeping her by his side again.

Warning❗️❗️Rated 18+ This story contains mature themes and extreme sexual content. Reader’s discretion is advised. ****** “Go down on your knees and suck my cock like a good little whore.” Aurora gasped as he grabbed her hair, making her face down on his cock. She sucked slowly, starting with the tip of his cock. “Fuck…” he growled, arching his back and closing his eyes, clearly enjoying the feeling. His fingers reached for her nipples and he squeezed softly, earning a moan from her. He continued to move his dick deeper into her throat, making her suck continuously, and she gagged and choked on it. “Enough foreplay. Let’s fuck,” he growled, his breath hot against her ear as she trembled beneath him. “Let’s see how wet that pussy of yours is. I’m going to make you sweat.” ****** Aurora Sinclair, a timid twenty-two-year-old barista has spent her entire life being invisible. Invisible to the world. And most painfully, invisible to the younger brother who was supposed to be her only family. So when Kevin, reckless and cruel, gambles away twenty billion dollars to the wrong people and decides the only currency he has left is his sister, Aurora’s quiet little life doesn’t just shatter—it burns totally. Marcel Dante is not a man who makes mistakes. The ruthless Mafia King built his empire on fear, loyalty, and blood. Women throw themselves at his feet, men beg at his door, and no one dares to challenge him. So when a broken, trembling girl is placed before him like a bargaining chip, Marcel has every reason to reject her. But something stirs. Something dangerous. And against every instinct, he takes her. What begins as a cruel transaction spirals into something neither of them can control. What happens when desire turns dangerous?

Aurora Sinclair a tout sacrifié par amour, jusqu'à son propre corps. Elle a donné un rein pour sauver son mari, pour n'être remerciée que par la trahison. Piégée, rejetée, divorcée et ruinée. Mais elle n'était pas seule. Portant l'enfant dont Adrian Kingston ignorait l'existence, Aurora a disparu dans l'ombre, pour se réveiller aux côtés d'un inconnu, un homme aussi brisé qu'elle. Zane Carter. Impétueux. Intouchable. Cachant des secrets plus sombres que ses tatouages. Un homme qui l'a demandée en mariage dans un brouillard d'alcool et de chagrin, et elle a dit oui. Des années plus tard, Aurora est de retour. Non plus comme la femme qu'ils ont détruite, mais comme celle qu'ils devraient craindre. Mais le destin n'en a pas fini avec elle. Adrian est sur le point de se remarier, avec la femme qui a ruiné sa vie. La vérité sur sa trahison se dévoile peu à peu. Et Zane ? Il ne la laissera pas partir. « Tu veux te venger, ma belle ? » Les lèvres de Zane se tordent en un sourire narquois, tandis qu’il fait tourner une cigarette éteinte autour de son doigt. « Réduisons-les en cendres ensemble. » Mais dans ce jeu de mensonges, de pouvoir et de tromperie, qui est le chasseur et qui est la proie ? Car la véritable guerre ne fait que commencer.

On my birthday, I personally prepare 16 dishes. After setting up the candlelight, I open a bottle of red wine. I take a photo and send it to my husband, Eric Sinclair. "I'm working late tonight. Don't wait for me," he replies. I choose to believe him. But after midnight, I notice an Instagram story posted by Shirley Huxley, his secretary. Eric was there with her, dressed in the trench coat I once gave him. They sat side by side in the VIP seat of football stadium where my favorite Super Bowl take place. Entwined in a passionate embrace, they kissed beneath a sea of shimmering lights and the roar of thousands of fans. That game is the one I have always longed to experience with him. I look down at the cold food on the table. Eric's words keep ringing in my head. "I hate kissing." "Marriage is a partnership, not about love and kisses." Though we've been married for ten years, we've never shared a single kiss. Meanwhile, he's out there, kissing Shirley openly and passionately. Despite it all, not a single tear falls from my eyes. The next day, Eric settles into his chair, completely unfazed. "Return the gallery to Shelly," he commands. I nod quietly, saying nothing. Suddenly, Layla Sinclair, my daughter, comes running down the stairs and throws herself into Shirley's arms. "Aunt Shirley, you're my favorite. I don't like Mom!" In that instant, it hits me—the home I devoted my heart and soul to means nothing anymore. It doesn't matter that I've been married to Eric for a decade. Now, all I want is to find myself again. I decide to accept an invitation from the Parisoir School of Fashion Design. From this moment on, I won't wait for them to come home, and I won't look back.