Marvel Quake Novels & Stories

Whitney Morris of the Crimson Moon Pack, I, Justin Strand, Alpha of the Crimson Moon Pack, reject you. I could feel the pain in my heart. I could hear Lance howling inside of me and sense his suffering. I could see the pain in her eyes as she was directly facing me, but she resisted showing it. Most wolves quake in pain and drop to their knees. I wanted to squat down and wriggle my chest. She didn't, though. She had her head up high as she stood there. She inhaled deeply before closing her stunning eyes. "I Whitney Morris of the Crimson Moon Pack, accept your rejection". ********************************************* When Whitney turns 18, she is shocked to learn that her mate is her

“Elena,” he says. My name has never sounded more filthy. He slams the door shut behind him with a kick of his foot and I flinch. My hand remains behind my back, it is a good thing he does not notice that my hands are now free. He inches forward and I take as many steps back as I can until I hit the wall. He comes even closer until his ugly face is mere inches away from my own. I can smell the stench of his wolf as he roughly grabs me by the chin. I quake uncontrollably, it is as if a wave of parasitic worms has taken hold of me, his touch is repulsive as it is nauseating. This man, who is old enough to be my father leans in and smiles. My eye starts to water and a sob escapes my lips. *

“Five million dollars may have bought my chains, but it didn’t buy my loyalty — and it definitely didn’t buy my heart. I never dreamed my life would come down to a transaction of hundred million dollars. But my father’s betrayal puts me at the mercy of Adrian Costa, the ruthless Sicilian, head of Cosa Nostra whose name makes the mafia world quake with fear. Including me. He bought me in an auction and then made me his wife. Saying no to him is not an option. He is dark and dangerous. I have done underhanded work against him using my hacker identity, CIPHER. I have to escape his gilded cage before he finds out my alt identity. Each of our battles ignites a deadly game of power and lust.

I was a wedding planner, and I personally designed my husband's wedding to his mistress. I had been with Victor for five years. Three of those years were swallowed by the pandemic. The remaining two were spent married, pregnant, and raising a child. The wedding I had always dreamed of existed only as "next time" whenever it came out of his mouth, until the day I received a new wedding planning request. The client was a young woman, her eyes curved with laughter, her smile bright and full of hope. "This is the venue my boyfriend chose himself," she said softly. "He insisted the wedding had to be held here." I took the file from her, and my gaze stopped on the venue name. The church in C

A chorus of howls interrupted my thoughts as I closed my eyes and prayed they wouldn’t find me. But then, I caught his scent, making Rayne surge forward. “Mila?” His voice came out in ragged breaths and sent a shiver down my spine. “Are you okay?” I turned to see Tyler stumbling into the entrance in all his glory. Even like this, I couldn’t help but marvel at his physique. If I didn’t want him, I was doing a terrible job at showing it. I closed my eyes to stop from staring, but even then images of him appeared in my mind. “Please,” I begged. “Just leave me alone!” “You know I can’t do that,” Tyler growled softly. “Let me help you. You’re in he–” “I don’t care!” I screamed. I shivered,

Even though I was the one who broke my ribs in the car accident, my boyfriend Jared decided to take care of his drunk ex-girlfriend instead. When I called to ask him to spend time with me in the hospital, he berated me. “Why are you so clingy? Can’t you tell that Isabelle needs me right now? “You’re a nurse, aren’t you? What, you can’t even take care of yourself now?” Heartbroken, I suggested we break up, only to be met with anger. “I was going to propose to you, you know? Considering how influential my family business is, I need to make sure I choose my wife wisely. “Today was a test to see if you have what it takes to be the next Mrs. Carter. I thought you would be independent and se