Marshmello Silence

Pledged by birth to ancient obligations he barely understands, the unnamed heir grapples with a destiny that demands secrecy and sacrifice. Cloaked in shadows within his ancestral keep, he learns to read arcane symbols whispered through generations. When political machinations from the gilded twilight city threaten to expose his lineage—and his potential—he must navigate deception and hidden loyalties to claim what is rightfully his. Guided by a devoted guardian, and haunted by the weight of prophecy, he must choose whether to embrace the power he fears or shatter the silence that has long protected him.

She was sold by her own father and forced into a loveless marriage with the most feared mafia boss. Trapped in a world of power, violence, and silence, she has no choices—and no way out. Until she realizes the most dangerous temptation in that house isn’t her husband… It’s his son. Cold. Protective. Forbidden. He watches her from the shadows, guards her with quiet devotion, and desires her in secret. When escape becomes their only chance at freedom, they are hunted without mercy. Because in the mafia, a woman is property. And betrayal is always paid for in blood.

I laid there unmoving, my hands shivered, my legs twitched as if rooted to the floor, tears rolled down my cheeks as I came to a realization. There laying a few metres away from me laid dad, whose eyes were closed as he drowned in his pool of blood, a deep hole in his heart while he laid unwavering. "Dad...wake up dad, dad please wake up." I squealed and then shook dad severally, but he was long gone, there was no coming back for him anymore, I growl and cried in silence, everything happened too fast.

After Roman Archer and I broke up, he devoted himself to academic research. He had finally become successful. During a television interview, he looked just as confident and high-spirited as he had been back then. The host asked whom he most wanted to share this news with. After a brief silence, he called me. “Celeste, thank you for leaving me. My career is thriving now.” I smiled. “Congratulations, Mr. Roman.” He would never know that if I had not left, he would have died.

CAUTION: This is an R18 EROTIC DARK ROMANCE COLLECTION containing multiple RAW LGBTQIA+ STEAMY STORIES. HUNTED will meet you dry and hand you insanely vivid imaginations to leave you soaking wet, and as hard as diamond, rutting like an Alpha. Clicking on read more will definitely take you on a journey to either press your thighs together or use a vibrator; suffer in hard silence or stroke your dick faster with lubricant. Since you read everything above, and are still reading, I guess you volunteer as tribute to this world of perversion. Welcome, sinner.

The night Araya was born, the Moon refused her. Marked as wolfless, mocked and forgotten, she grew up as prey in her own pack. Even her fated mate broke the bond with a smirk and left her bleeding at the border — for rogues to finish. But they forgot one thing: Ash remembers. And so does the throne buried beneath it. The forest did not devour her. It bowed. The flame did not die. It waited. Until, in the silence between heartbeats, something older than gods whispered: “She is not blessed. She is not chosen. She is the reckoning the moon tried to silence.” Now Araya walks again — no longer mortal, no longer meek. She is Hollow-Blood reborn, daughter of the fire that swallowed fate, heir to a throne no god dares name. And fate has bound her to Dorian—Azrien—the exiled god chained to shadow and ruin. He expected to crave nothing but vengeance. Until her. Araya is the mate his immortal soul demands, the salvation he denies, and the spark that could either set him free… or burn the world to ash. But enemies stir in silence. Adira, the Luna who would claim the Alpha prince at any cost, forges a pact with a creature older than gods, a monster chained in rot and darkness. The price she pays will rip fate itself open. Betrayals. Forbidden desire. Gods who bleed. Wolves who kneel. And at the heart of it, one truth no prophecy can silence: The gods will end. She will not. And the last prophecy carved into stone whispers: “The Flame That Walks Returns. Let the gods burn first.”

Alex, get up!”
A sharp slap to the leg.
“You think we’re running a daycare down here?”
Fifteen-year-old Alex scrambled out of her pile of thin blankets on the basement floor, eyes wide, limbs sore. Another day, another list of chores. Cooking. Cleaning. Smiles for those who kicked her. Silence for those who didn’t see her at all.
Upstairs…laughter, Alpha Cole’s family was having breakfast. She could smell the cinnamon.
Down here? Mold. Dust. And the quiet ache of a girl who didn’t know she was born to change the world.

Isabella Ferrera becomes a substitute bride on her own wedding day when the woman her groom loves runs away. Married to billionaire Matteo Conti, she spends five years living as a ghost—unloved, ignored, and blamed for a betrayal she never committed. While Matteo clings to his first love, Isabella endures his cruelty in silence, until she finally leaves without a word. Only then does Matteo uncover the truth behind the runaway bride—and realize too late that the woman he pushed away was the one who truly stayed. Regret is all he has left.

Why, though? Why did he disappear all of a sudden? What truth do they need from me? What do they mean by only I will know about his disappearance? I need answers and their silence is killing me! ••••• A powerful business deal forces both Alexander and Hazel into an arranged marriage of convenience on both side of the family. Sparks fly between these two strong individuals of similar interests but what happens when constant scandals, deceit and misunderstandings threaten to pull them apart. Will their love be strong enough to let trust drive their patched relationship, or will they break each other endlessly?

By the third year of my mate bond with Caesar, the reigning Alpha, the she-wolf who had once abandoned him returned. For the thousand-and-first time, I launched into my well-rehearsed performance—the devoted, desperate mate. "Do you still love me?" I asked. And for the thousand-and-first time, Caesar turned away without a word, his silence a colder rejection than any shout. On the surface, I was the picture of heartbreak. Behind closed doors, I went straight to Caesar's uncle to collect a hefty payment for my performance. "Three years of this acting," I said. "Can I leave now?"