Monkey D Mikasa Novels & Stories

I have a confession: my name is Amber Kratos. Eighteen. My father is the fearsome Alpha of the most powerful Blood Moon Pack, and I’ve been sleeping with his stepbrother—my step uncle—Hunter Black. I know, I know. It’s all wrong. Our illicit affair would eventually end in a miscarriage (or so he thinks), then I’d be rejected and exiled after he betrayed my father and took over the clan. Six years later, I’d return as the Luna of my own pack for a bloodthirsty revenge on Hunter, now the Alpha of the new Black Crescent Pack. But our darling son—and my wretched, wretched lust and enduring love for that forbidden fruit of a man—would keep getting in the way. Ah hell….

My younger sister Ruth and I got a do-over, reborn to the day we were about to be adopted. Ruth clung to Jeremy, the butcher who'd taken me in during my last life, and begged, "Please, Mr. Butcher, let me be your daughter!" She thought she had it all figured out—Jeremy Butcher was set to rise to power, while the rich couple adopting her would crash and burn. It was clear—she was gunning for the life I built in my last run. I just smiled. She had no clue. Jeremy's success? Yeah, that was all me. Without my help, he'd stay a small-town butcher forever. From day one, Ruth was chasing a dream that was already doomed.

On our wedding day, Ethan got a call and bolted from the ceremony. Grandma was so furious she started coughing up blood, and everyone just watched. Not one person stepped in to help. I raced her to the hospital, but it was too late. She was gone before they even got her inside. Then, as I sat alone in the morgue, my phone lit up. It was Ethan. "Grace, get to the hospital. Bella's hurt and needs your blood!" "Ethan Carter, it's over between us." I ended the call, leaving the last pieces of my heart—and him—behind. Months later, he was on his knees in the pouring rain, begging for forgiveness, saying he'd do anything, give anything, if I'd only look back.

When my son was born, I noticed a small, round birthmark on his arm. But the weird thing? By the time I opened my eyes again after giving birth, it was gone. I figured maybe I'd imagined it. That is, until the baby shower. My brother-in-law's son, born the same day as mine, had the exact same birthmark. Clear as day. That's when it hit me. I didn't say a word, though. Not then. I waited. Eighteen years later, at my son's college acceptance party, my brother-in-law stood up and dropped the truth bomb: the "amazing" kid I'd raised was theirs. I just smiled and invited him and his wife to take their "rightful" seats at the table.

The hotel called, politely reminding me that the condoms used last night were unpaid and had been charged to my membership card. I was stunned. I'd been working late until midnight and hadn't set foot in any hotel. I confronted my husband, the only person who knew my card code. Nathan Phelps looked at me, bewildered. "Honey, that hotel costs over $10,000 a night. I'd never go there. It's probably a system error. Someone must have mistyped the card number. I'll file a complaint tomorrow." Unconvinced, I called my best friend, who managed the hotel. "Tracy, check who Nathan was with at the hotel last night. I'm catching him red-handed."

WOLFBANE SERIES BOOK 2 ***It is highly recommended you read book 1, Wolfbane, before starting this one for context and to avoid spoilers.*** *TALIA* You'd think being raised in a brothel would prepare me for anything. You'd be wrong. I never expected to find my mother murdered in cold blood. I never predicted I'd hunt down the killer and take his life in exchange. And I sure didn't imagine the son of my mother's murderer would turn out to be my mate. But I guess this is my life now. Being a werewolf in hiding was no piece of cake, but being a werewolf on the run is even worse… *ALEX* I don't think I made a very good first impression. But to be fair, who meets their mate at their father's murder scene? A murder where she, evidently, is the number one and only suspect. It's disturbing. It's gruesome. But it's fate. And I'll do anything to see the mysterious woman with distinctive blue eyes again… *Content warning: This is a paranormal romance novel with dark themes containing mature adult content, offensive language, and graphic violence, and may not be suitable for young readers.*

The notice of my mother's layoff sat on the kitchen table. Rent was due in three days. My younger brother's tutoring fees were already two weeks late. And my little sister, Stephanie, clutched her acceptance letter to the local public arts high school like she'd done something wrong. None of this would be happening if it weren't for me. My illness had taken everything our family had saved. I stayed in my room, leaning against the door, wanting to tell them I'd drop out of treatment—but I couldn't bring myself to open it. "Why did he have to fall sick?" My mother was crying, her voice low and tight, like the words were being forced out of her. "If it were just you both, Stephanie and Jamie, we'd be fine by now." "Mom, please don't say that." My brother and sister held her, barely holding back their own tears. "He's a burden… but he's still my son." Her voice cracked. "I just… I can't do this anymore…" I stepped back and sank into my chair. It wasn't an accusation. It was a verdict.

HUNCHING my shoulders against the cold, I watched my breath mist out in front of me. It was either that or head into the convenience store opposite and grab some cigs, which I couldn’t do. Ma’d already threatened to lop off my head if she caught me stinking of smoke, and while I wasn’t averse to a clipped ear, what with being twenty, I didn’t give much of a anymore. My wrist was , thanks to how many times Da had broken it, and I’d been shot at twice. I could cope with her pulling on my ear like it was stuck on with Velcro. Dealing with Mariska’s repugnance, however, was another matter entirely.

My best friend was a D-list influencer who'd blown six months of savings to drag me to a so-called "socialite finishing school." But then the instructor made us slap each other across the face — an "obedience test." I couldn't help it. I laughed. The next second, my friend was blacklisted from the entire circle, and her agent sent a termination notice. The instructor pointed at me and gave my friend an ultimatum: "Get on your knees. Slap her ten times. Then I'll lift the ban." My friend cried, trembling as she walked toward me. I sighed. The billion-dollar inheritance I'd just received — looks like the secret was about to come out.

I woke up naked beside a man I hadn’t seen in eight years. Before noon, the scandal was everywhere. By noon, I’d lost my position as CEO, my name, and my marriage. But the worst betrayal wasn’t the headlines. It wasn’t walking in on my husband and my best friend planning my downfall and mocking me. It was finding out the man I loved, my sweetheart of five years, made me a surrogate without my knowledge. The twins I'd been carrying for seven months weren't mine. But it failed to break me. It only made me stronger. After all, I wasn't just a mother—I was a CEO.