Mystic Tea

Before I married Gavin Whitaker, his mother put me through a so-called premarital obedience test. She made me kneel and serve tea to the entire family, so I knelt. She made me walk barefoot across a reflexology path to prove my "resilience". I went through it. She made me sign a prenuptial agreement stating that if we ever divorced, I would leave with nothing. I signed. Throughout it all, Gavin watched coldly from the sidelines. All he said was, "Sienna, don’t make a big deal out of this. Just bear with it. These are our family’s rules." I smiled and nodded, even as tears slid down my face. The final test came without warning. His mother slapped me hard across the face. "If you marry into this family, you need to understand what humility means." I didn’t move. However, upstairs in the study, where Gavin was in the middle of a video conference, he suddenly spat out a mouthful of blood and collapsed. He clutched his face and stared at me in terror. [System Notification: You and Gavin Whitaker have successfully bound to the Empathy Sync System. From this moment on, all harm inflicted upon the host will be experienced in full by the other party.]

Three years of marriage, and it all ends with two words. Sign it. He didn’t even look up when he said it. Just slid the papers across the table like I was another business deal to close. We weren’t supposed to fall in love it started as a contract, something practical, something safe. But feelings have a way of growing where they shouldn’t. For a while, I thought he cared. The quiet moments, the small things he remembered my favorite song, how I take my tea, the way I hate the rain. I thought they meant something. Turns out, they did. Just not for me. Every gesture, every soft word, was borrowed from a memory. From her. The woman who had him first. The one who left. The one who’s now back. So I signed. I smiled. I walked away. Not because I wanted to but because I had to. He doesn’t chase me. Not yet. But I can feel it the weight of everything unsaid still hanging in the air between us. Maybe he’ll realize what he’s lost. Maybe he won’t. Either way, this time, I’m not waiting around to find out.

THREE NIGHTS WITH THE LYCAN PRINCE Prince Logan Odell, A Lycan. He was birthed by a woman who was discarded by her own pack and enslaved by the Alpha of Mystic Shadows Fortress where she had him. He was born into a life of torture and slavery despite his royal identity. As a result of this, he grew up hard and cold hearted. He vowed never to be weak like his mother. He deprived himself a chance to feel loved or ever love anyone. Until he met a certain green eyed girl who became his undoing. Jovy Finlay, a beautiful latent wolf. She was maltreated, neglected and hated on by her family because of what they considered to be a deficiency; Being a latent wolf. Pains was evident in her existence. Deciding to have fun a little after heeding the advice of her best friend, Jovy attended a free access frat party and from there she went on a three-day spree with a total stranger. He made her feel different. She fell in love with him. Unfortunately, Jovy’s life took an abrupt turn when the whole pack decided to marry her off as a gift to a ruthless alpha just to gain his favor. What happens when Logan finds himself fighting between his refusal to love and accept to love? What will be Jovy’s next move after finding out that she has fallen in love with the most feared Lycan in their world?

A rejected Warrior. A grieving Alpha. And a mysterious scent that defies fate. Gwen was born to fight, but never to be chosen. Labeled weak and cast aside by her fated mate and pack. She is forced to claw her way through blood and dirt just to survive. When a mysterious Alpha offers her a place in his pack as a surrogate, Gwen sees it as her final escape from heartbreak and humiliation. But Mystic Pack is no ordinary place. And Alpha Conan is no ordinary wolf. Cold, grieving, and haunted by the death of his mate, Conan has locked away his heart and his wolf for four long years. Until Gwen arrives… and everything begins to unravel. Her scent shifts. Her power grows. And her presence stirs something dangerous inside him. As old bloodlines awaken and secrets rise from the ashes, Gwen discovers she’s more than a rejected mate—she carries the blood of a goddess. Her touch heals. Her voice calms. And her wolf is destined to shine in silver fire. But when betrayal strikes and war threatens the packs, Gwen must choose: return to the shadows that scorned her… or embrace the divine strength that was never meant to be hidden. In a world ruled by fate, she is the choice the moon made. And some bonds aren't written in stars. They are forged in fire.

Zoey is hardly what you’d consider princess material. Born in flyover country, she never learned how to curtsy, let alone walk in high heels. And when she literally trips into the arms of a handsome stranger at her friend’s wedding, she thinks she’s finally found love. Freddie Prescott is a charming prankster. Despite his carefree attitude, he pursues Zoey with an intensity that shows he can be serious when he needs to be. And with those rock hard abs and rippling biceps, his pursuit of Zoey is a satisfying one. Without realizing it, Zoey finds herself falling in love. There’s only one problem: Freddie is a prince. Spending a week without Internet access or phone reception has left Zoey in a weird predicament. He certainly left enough hints that he was rich and famous, but he never outright said it. And when the time comes for him to leave their vacation getaway, he asks her to come with him to the kingdom of Paradisa. But Zoey can’t use the right fork, put her pinkie up for tea, or any of the things expected of a princess. Plus, there are those in the kingdom who don’t want an American close to the throne. How can she hope to keep Freddie’s love if she’s a stranger to his royal world? NYT Bestseller Krista Lakes brings you this brand new sweet-and-sexy royal romance. This standalone novel will have you cheering for an American princess’s happily ever after.

On the night of her eighteenth birthday, June’s world doesn’t just shatter, it awakens. She thought she was an ordinary girl on the brink of graduation, adopted and unremarkable, carrying only unanswered questions about her past. But when the moon rises, so does the truth: she is a werewolf, heir to a bloodline steeped in ancient magic and bound by destiny. Thrust into a hidden world where power is currency and secrets are lethal, June finds an unlikely ally in Killian, a formidable wolf whose loyalty is as fierce as his strength. Their search for answers leads them from shadowed forests to the sands of Egypt, where a mystic oracle guards prophecies older than empires—and where June’s lineage is whispered as both salvation and doom. Along the way, they cross paths with a vampire tailor whose enchanted needles stitch more than fabric, weaving protection, deception, and fate itself. But even his magic cannot shield June from the greatest revelation awaiting her: a queen returned from the dead, risen to reclaim a throne drenched in blood and moonlight… and tied irrevocably to June’s own heritage. As the Council of Twelve tightens its iron claws around her, June must unravel the truth of her origins before it consumes her. Every step draws her deeper into a destiny she never asked for but can no longer escape. Her lineage is her power… or her execution.

In the coastal quiet of Baler, a studio is born—not of architecture, but of intention.* Founded by Yam, a poet whose words cradle pain gently, and Franc, an artist who paints tenderness into walls, the studio becomes a refuge for those learning to stay—with grief, love, longing, and themselves. As visitors arrive, they leave behind more than footprints: a sigh recorded in bamboo, a poem tucked into the “Found Letters” shelf, a mural painted in crooked lines. Through zines, tea, silence, and sketchbooks, the studio teaches softness as revolution. Ren creates the *Window of Soft Returns*, an installation of anonymous voice recordings—each whisper forming a community of echoes. Drew builds the *Staircase With No Wrong Turns*, inviting people to walk through emotions without shame. Franc offers brushstrokes as brave work, and Yam curates writing circles that map healing in half sentences. Together, they host festivals that feel like hugs, and they begin traveling their archive, letting softness cross oceans. Even those who once left—like Miguel—return, discovering that some doors never truly close. Others, like Tala, capture the studio’s sound and turn it into a podcast of breath and becoming. Over seventy chapters, the studio transforms into something larger than itself: a mural of memory, a sanctuary for second chances, a place where return is sacred and voice is proof of survival. In the final bloom, the studio stands not as a monument—but as a reminder: > *“Staying isn’t easy. > But chosen together, > it becomes home.”*

Just one second before Alpha Daniel’s fated mark burned into my skin, a sharp voice pierced the air at the bonding ceremony. “Stop!” Jessica, Daniel’s first love, stumbled forward, her belly swollen. “Are you all really going to let this vicious woman become your Luna?” she cried, pointing at me with trembling hands. “She’s been torturing me for months! She poisoned my tea, left knives at my door, and tried to force me to abort Alpha’s pup!” My mind went blank at her sudden, fabricated accusations. “What? I didn’t—” Before I could finish, Jessica lunged toward me. Acting on instinct, I raised my arm to block her, but she collapsed heavily to the floor. “My pup!” she shrieked. “Daniel, look! She’s trying to hurt us again! Call the enforcers to arrest her!” In the next heartbeat, Daniel rushed forward, shielding Jessica in his arms without hesitation. He looked at me, his gaze cold and disappointed. “Rosie, why couldn’t you just behave? This pup is our pack’s heir!” Around us, the elders exchanged dark, knowing glances, silently condemning me. With no way to prove my innocence, I was sentenced to three years in the nightmare Silver Prison. Whips, hunger, endless violence… Eventually, I learned what Daniel really meant by “behave”. But why was he the one who regretted it?

Princess Layana's birth was a mystery and her heritage a secret. Despite the luxurious life of a royal, she simply wished for a life away from the cage-like palace. Declan of House Storm was the sole survivor of a massacred clan, an event that gave birth to the darkness within him. Fuelled by hate, rage and betrayal he wants nothing but to get revenge on the royals that slaughtered his family. What will happen when the shielded princess with a heart as pure as the first ray of dawn meets the heir whose soul is shrouded in a blanket of darkness. Will he set her free from her shackles? Will she be able to lead him to the light before it’s too late? When the first whispers of darkness spread from the borders, they are brought together to protect the kingdom.Beware the prophecy decreed a long time passed for it may hold their world in its balance. -------- “It seems Lord Declan holds more ignorance than he is aware, we are women with emotions, wishes and hopes that we put behind us for the betterment of the kingdom,” Layana said her eyes flashing “Do enlighten me, what exactly can the precious jewels of the kingdom do for its people?” Declan mocked arrogantly. “Jewels? You compare us to items devoid of emotions, but yes, like jewels, we will be given away to the highest bidder. So before assuming princesses are simply there to play dress up and have tea parties, remember our lives are not simply fun and games!”

“Ahh!” She was in a moaning mess. She did not want to feel anything for this man. She hated him. His hands began to move all over her body. She gasped when he pulled down the back chain of her dress. The chain stopped at her lower waist, so when he zipped it off, her upper back and waist were exposed. "D-Don't touch m—ummm!" His fingers rolled around her bare back, and she pressed her head against the pillow. His touches were giving her goosebumps all over her body. With a deep angry voice, he whispered in her ear, "I am going to make you forget his touches, kisses, and everything. Every time you touch another man, you will only think of me." - - - Ava Adler was a nerdy omega. People bullied her because they thought she was ugly and unattractive. But Ava secretly loved the bad boy, Ian Dawson. He was the future Alpha of the Mystic Shadow Pack. However, he doesn't give a damn about rules and laws, as he only likes to play around with girls. Ava was unaware of Ian's arrogance until her fate intertwined with his. He neglected her and hurt her deeply. What would happen when Ava turned out to be a beautiful girl who could win over any boy, and Ian looked back and regretted his decisions? What if she had a secret identity that she had yet to discover? What if the tables turned and Ian begged her not to leave him?