Novel & Cerita Nika Vicious

“I can smell you’re wet for me, my little mate.” My nose flared. My chest heaved. My rage boiled inside my body, making me want to explode. “Well, take this, Alpha. I, Shadow Raven Hawks, omega of Night Stalker Pack—” “Shadow, what the fuck are you doing?” He was fast to cup my face as his eyes began brewing the pain. “Rejecting—” I wasn’t finished when he slammed his mouth against mine, stopping me. *** She’s a lone wolf— a rogue. Shadow Hawks learns to keep her head down. That’s how she survives until she wakes up in a pack run by a control freak hot-as-sin ruthless Alpha. With one single sniff of him, she feels an intense connection with irresistible heat. Now she’s got her old pack on her heels. The only one who can protect her is Alpha Califf. She will do everything, even if she has to bow down and reveal herself. Califf Stone doesn’t have time for a relationship but to protect his pack from a sinister, vicious Alpha killing the neighboring packs. Until he meets a mysterious rogue who enjoys defying his orders, he finds himself craving for her, losing control— And he knows she’s the one. When their common enemy threatens her, he’s ready to break his defenses to protect his mate. What surprises him, she’s not only half-Lycan, half-witch. She’s also a Lycan Princess. *** The sequel, The Hybrid Luna is out now. Check it out.

My twin sister, wanting to be with her thug boyfriend, secretly planned to apply for a junior college. When I could not talk her out of it, I told our parents and managed to stop her. However, just a month into the new semester, her thug boyfriend cheated on her. She left a suicide note, blaming it all on the long distance between them. She wrote that if she had gone to that junior college, her boyfriend would never have cheated. Grief‑stricken, my parents turned all their rage on me. "You wretched girl, this is all your fault for meddling! What business was it of yours which school your sister went to? Even if she didn't go to college, we could still support her. We didn't need your big mouth!" "If it weren't for your spiteful tongue, your sister wouldn't be dead!" "We were cursed to have a vicious, unfilial daughter like you!" They locked me in her room, ordering me to repent. Then they took her ashes on a trip, saying they wanted her to see the beautiful mountains and rivers she never got to visit in life. A month later, they returned from their travels to find me long dead, starved to a withered husk in front of my sister's photo. Their eyes held no grief, no guilt, only a faint, scornful curl of the lips. In their eyes, my death was nothing more than justice served. My broken soul saw their icy expressions, and despairing tears burned my eyes. Then my sister's familiar voice rang out again: "What business is it of yours which school I go to? You're just jealous that I have a boyfriend, aren't you?"

The day I decided to donate my body to science, my family gathered around my adopted sister, Hailey, celebrating her acceptance into a cutting-edge experimental treatment program. The one with brain cancer was supposed to be me. But Hailey used my husband Zane's position at the hospital to swap her healthy medical records with my terminal diagnosis, stealing the one chance I had to survive. And the worst part? Everyone cheered her on. The pain became too much. I fought to stay present, only to overhear the nurses whispering, "It's a good thing Dr. Zane secured that spot for Hailey. They said she only had three days left." So, in the last 72 hours of my life, I quietly let go of everything. When I gave Hailey the original manuscripts of my novels I had poured my heart and soul into, my father and brother gave me a satisfied smile. When Zane decided to grant Hailey her dying wish by marrying her, he handed me the divorce papers. I signed without a moment's hesitation. He sighed and praised me for finally being "so reasonable." And when I was the one who coaxed our daughter, Olivia, into calling Hailey "Mommy," Olivia gushed that her new mom was the best. "Don't worry," Zane soothed. "We're just keeping it safe for now. Once she's gone, it'll all come back to you." I gave Hailey everything I had, just like they wanted. So why, when they find out this was all Hailey's vicious lie, do they come crying, saying I'm the one they wanted all along?

I never thought I'd end up severely injured and lose my baby on my wedding day. That day, I walked toward my husband full of excitement, only to watch him rush right past me and straight into the arms of his secretary. Confused, I turned around and saw someone in a wedding dress lying on the ground, blood pooling beneath her. It was his secretary, Quinn Fable. Steve York, my soon-to-be husband, panicked and scooped her up, but Quinn stared at me with tearful eyes, crying, “Summer, I ate the candy you gave me… Why would you want to hurt my baby? Please, Steve, save our child… please…” Steve was beside himself with rage. Without a second thought, he kicked me hard in the stomach. I collapsed into the champagne tower, shards of glass embedding into my skin. Blood poured from between my legs. Yet, they still clung to each other, crying bitterly as if I didn't exist. When the ambulance arrived, they didn't even hesitate to push me aside to save her first. “Forget about her!” Steve shouted. “Save Quinn! She's lost so much blood. She must be in terrible pain! As for Summer, that vicious witch… she deserves to die!” Due to the delay, I suffered a ruptured uterus and missed the window for proper treatment. And as if that wasn't enough, Steve personally announced that our marriage was null and void. He marched straight to the clerk's office with Quinn and made it official. On my ICU bed, I received a text from him. “Pack your things and get out. Quinn wants you out of her sight.”

I was born with a cursed tongue. The words I said came true. So as soon as I understood what that meant, I stopped speaking. For more than twenty years, I never said another word. Then my six-year-old son knocked his pregnant aunt over by accident, and my husband sent him to a kennel. My son had been bitten by a dog before. He was terrified of them. I begged. I went down on my knees and slammed my forehead against the floor until it was bleeding. Connor Grant lifted his sister-in-law Camille Lane up off the ground, ran a tender hand over her swollen belly, and his voice came out cold. "Don't think I can't see what's behind this. He did it because you put him up to it. You're a calculating little mute. He has your filthy blood in his veins. If we don't break him now, he grows up worthless." "Send him somewhere that knows how to teach a child his place. Teach him how things rank in this house. And teach you, while we're at it. Don't touch what isn't yours." By the time I found my son, he was in a cage with five vicious dogs. There was almost nothing left to hold. I pieced the small body back together. I opened my mouth for the first time in over twenty years, and the first words I had spoken in my life were: "Connor Grant. Blood for blood. I will see this house buried."

The SAT results have been released, and my younger brother, Alvin Bellamy, got a score of 1400. To celebrate his achievement, I set aside my usual frugal habits and throw him a party. Amid the lively cheer, he suddenly says, "Sandy, I'm legally an adult now. It's time for you to give me Mom's life insurance payout, yeah?" I shake my head in response, but just as I'm about to explain why, he flies off the handle. "I've had enough of the pressure of studying in this country! I didn't even bother applying to any colleges, and the application deadlines have closed, so I'll be stuck attending a community college. If you don't want to ruin my future, you have to give me the money so I can study abroad instead!" Feeling disappointed and disheartened, I transfer Alvin 5,000 dollars on the spot. However, he assumes I'm keeping the lion's share of the money to myself. Not only does he threaten me in front of everyone, but he even teams up with our biological father, who cheated on our mother many years ago, to spread lies about me. "You've been hoarding all of our dead mom's life insurance payout, living it up this whole time while refusing to give any of the money to me, your own brother! What did I do to deserve a sister as vicious as you?" Looking right into the eyes of the nasty ingrate I've doted on for over a decade now, I scoff and throw out a pile of invoices. "Where do you think the money that's been spent on you all these years came from? In fact, if we're going to settle the score properly, you owe me 580 grand."

I was five months pregnant when my husband, James Fletcher, allowed his mistress to invade our lives—on the very night of our wedding anniversary. But she didn’t just come to flaunt her presence. She came to take my life. Pregnant and vulnerable, I confronted her, desperately clinging to my dignity. But the fight ended with me tumbling down the staircase, my swollen belly crashing against the cold, hard ground. Blood seeped across the floor, vivid and unrelenting. James only arrived after hearing about his precious mistress’ ordeal. He stood there, staring at the pool of blood, at my broken body. But instead of helping me, he rushed to her side. She had nothing but a few superficial scratches, yet he swept her off to the hospital like she was the one dying. By the time he returned, my child was gone. The doctors barely managed to save me. And what did James do? He struck me in front of everyone, his words sharper than the sting of his hand. "Lisa only wanted to bring you a Christmas gift, and you attacked her out of nowhere! You shameless witch!" “She didn’t force her way in! What nonsense! I gave her the house key ages ago. You just can’t stand that she’s prettier and kinder than you!" “You didn’t just hurt her. You killed my child! You vile, despicable woman. Why couldn’t it have been you instead?” Lisa stood beside him, pretending to comfort him while flashing me a smug, victorious smirk. James’s vicious tirade didn’t stop there. He dragged my name onto the internet, painting me as a monster.

I died listening to my husband fuck his mistress in our bed. Six months pregnant, I bled out on the bathroom floor while they laughed in the next room, while Scylla moaned his name loud enough for me to hear through the walls. The last thing I heard was my husband telling her she felt better than I ever did, and the last thing I felt was my baby going still inside me. Then I woke up. Not in heaven, not anywhere I recognized. In a penthouse overlooking the city where I died, with a man standing over me who said he brought me back as an experiment. Zephyr Arcanis, billionaire, recluse, apparently the only person alive who knows how to resurrect the dead. He gave me three years before my borrowed time runs out, three years to do whatever I want with this second life. I chose revenge. I should focus on destroying Dexter and Scylla, on making them pay for what they did to me and my baby. But Zephyr watches me like I'm a puzzle he can't solve, touches me like he's afraid I'll vanish, and when I get close to my ex-husband for the plan, Zephyr's jealousy turns vicious in ways that terrify and thrill me. He says he doesn't feel anything, says I'm just an experiment to test his power. Then why does he bleed when I hurt? Why does his skin turn pale every time he saves me? And when my three years are almost over, why does he whisper that he'll die in my place if it means I get to keep living?

Rosalie wanted a peaceful married life away from Aiden her husband a blood thirsty , a cruel, vicious perverted Alpha , after she marries him in place of her sister but things go out of loop when Aiden with his dominating Alpha vibes rattles her wolf so bad - enough to make her wolf and her to desire him. She wanted to stay away from him because she knew he can never give her his heart but unfortunately she is drawn towards him against her will.Alpha Aiden finds his little wife intriguing with her spit fire temper and the way she looks his way makes him feel things he never did . He wants to own her , posses her - heart and soul but the more he wants her the further she hides herself from him . And isn't a saying that goes- the more you can't have something the more you want to claim it ? Run , little wifey because Alpha Aiden is coming to get you prologue :- Rosalie woke after a very long dream , a dream that showed her , her future .Hated by her family , she is sold off to marry a bloodthirsty Alpha,Aiden Cullen in place of her elder sister Anna.Aiden Cullen,famous for his cruel nature having killed his own mate , he lives a life full of debauchery .With a husband like that , Rosalie only wishes to live a quite life being ignored by him and his mistress.But his mistress won't leave her alone and what did her husband means by saying that he loves her alone and will treat her better ? She just wanted a peaceful life! What is with her husband infinite pampering ?

I was his one weakness. Don Alex, the king of New York. And I was his queen. But days before our child was due, I was thrown into the Dockside Deathmatch—a cruel game broadcast for the underground world’s entertainment. The bullets flew, hidden traps lay in wait, and my every terrified, pathetic attempt to survive was broadcast live on giant screens. Then, I heard his second-in-command on the loudspeaker. "Boss, your wife's about to pop. You sure you wanna be here?" I froze. Alex was here? A moment later, a woman’s sugary voice dripped through the speakers. "Forget that bitch. Alex told me the only thing that mattered today was being here with me. Right, honey?" It was Scarlett. The Chicago Outfit's princess. Alex's childhood sweetheart from Chicago, a woman he had always pampered and shown a distinct bias towards. He had turned down her advances for years, but he never refused her whims. Today, she was in a bad mood and insisted on watching the deathmatch, so he was here to keep her company. I screamed for Alex, begged him for help, but he was convinced I was an assassin in disguise. Because Scarlett laughed and said the game needed to be more exciting. So he pressed the button. Vicious patrol dogs hunted me. My water broke, mixing with blood on the ground. I was in agony. The game hit its climax as more dogs and gunmen closed in from all sides. Everyone was betting on who would be the next to die. Alex smiled, his voice a low, careless drawl, "I’ll bet on that filthy pregnant woman to die." He didn't know the truth until I bled out on an operating table, our child dead with me. They say the ruthless Godfather shattered. Broke completely.