Not Cool Dudes

Ember never meant to make a king. She was just trying to survive her heat without embarrassing herself in front of the massive, infuriatingly calm wolf living in the loft next door. Ember has spent most of her life keeping people at a distance. She’s stubborn, private, and perfectly happy suffering through things alone—including the inconvenient attraction she’s been pretending not to feel toward Ghost. Ghost notices everything. He notices when Ember skips meals. When she hasn’t slept. When she’s pretending she doesn’t need help. Calm, steady, and impossible to shake, he’s the kind of man who doesn’t push—but also doesn’t leave. Which becomes a problem when a violent storm destroys half of Ember’s apartment and Ghost is the one who drags her out of the wreckage. Suddenly the fiercely independent she-wolf who hates relying on anyone is stuck living next door to the one man she’s been trying not to want. Then Ember’s heat hits. What starts as proximity and stubborn attraction turns into something neither of them expected when their bond snaps fully into place—awakening a long-buried bloodline Ember never knew she carried. For generations, wolves like her were known as Kingmakers—rare mates capable of exposing corruption and keeping pack leadership honest. Twenty years ago, someone tried to wipe them out. Now Ember’s power has awakened. And the quiet city she and Ghost call home—long governed by careful politics instead of true pack leadership—is about to change. Because Ghost never wanted to be an Alpha. But Ember’s bloodline has a habit of exposing exactly the kind of wolf who should be. And Ember might have just made a king.

When I was 14, I ran away from home and met Rosalie Burke, the real Burke heiress who had been living on the outside. After her family finally brought her home, I was the one who helped her turn their business into a success. I spent ten years at her side, and on the day they named her heir to Burke Group, she shoved me into the sea. "My fiance is the next heir to Swain Group. You have no power or influence. You're beneath me now." I blink awake, and suddenly I'm back at the moment Rosalie returns to her family. I watch her shamelessly flirt with my enemy's son, then turn on my heel and head back to my own family. I'm not helping her in this life. This time, I'm going to watch her fall off that pedestal.

Back when I was 15, I gave my extraordinary luck to Whitney Johnson. Six months later, her wealthy parents showed up at the orphanage and took her home. At 18, I stopped her from dating the school heartthrob, who later died in a car accident. Whitney blamed me for his death. She tore up my admission ticket for college entrance exam, made me miss the test, and completely ruined my life. I ended up homeless, yet it wasn't enough for her. She pushed me into the river and drowned me. Now, as I open my eyes, I realize I've been reborn and returned to when I was 18. This time, I'll never give her my extraordinary luck again.

When I was fifteen, I lent my rabbit’s foot luck to Shawn Crawford. Half a year later, his wealthy parents found him and came to the orphanage to take him home. When I was eighteen, I stopped him from getting involved with the school belle who bullied me. Later, the girl died on the spot in a car accident. Shawn blamed her death entirely on me. He prevented me from taking the college entrance examination and ruined my life. Forced into wandering homelessly, Shawn still refused to spare me. He sealed me inside a coffin and buried me alive. When I opened my eyes again, I was reborn to when I was eighteen years old. This time, I would reclaim what was mine, my rabbit’s foot luck.

Late one night after getting off work, I was scrolling through my company group chat when a colleague shared a piece of news. The headline was horrifying. "Night-Shift Courier Murdered During Delivery, Police Suspect Robbery." I zoomed in on the crime scene photo that had been partially pixelated, and a chill ran straight down my spine. Lying in a pool of blood, the courier who had been hacked to death was unmistakably me. I had scrolled into news of my own death. Almost at the same time, my delivery app began vibrating violently. "Urgent pickup! Destination: Unit 704 Hawthorne Ridge Apartments, Building 7. Time limit: 15 minutes. Penalty for timeout: Death." As I stared at the notification that read "Pickup failed three times", the searing pain of my brutal death surged through my body. So that was it. I had already died three times. When I forced open the half-closed security door of 704 for the fourth time, a thin delivery envelope lay quietly inside. I tore it open. A photograph slipped out. It was a picture of my dismembered body. The timestamp showed tomorrow at 7:00 a.m. On the back was a single line written in fresh blood: "Next time, remember to pick it up on time." At that moment, the red indicator light on the hallway surveillance camera suddenly went dark. I looked up. From the ventilation opening in the exact same spot, a single eye was staring straight at me. The mole at the corner of that eye was identical to mine.

My wife was gone for 6 months on a business trip. The day she returned, however, she was not alone. Hand in hand, my wife showed up with her lover—my client. This was not even the worst part—she was also 3 months' pregnant. My client, in all his beer-bellied arrogance, hurled the contract at my feet, smirking. "Mr. Carter, your wife has gone to so much trouble for this partnership. Truth be told, I would never, not even in a million years, have agreed to partner with you if it wasn't for her!" My wife caressed her pregnant belly and said smugly, "I was the one who successfully got Mr. Lewis' business! I'll let you have it, though, as long as you agree to get a divorce!" I tore the contract into shreds and roared, "You want a divorce? Fine! I'll give it to you, but I'll never sign this!"

I went abroad for a year to further my studies and kept in touch with my girlfriend through video calls every day. One day, I saw her first love posted a photo with a caption: [We are finally back together after ten years!] In the photo, my girlfriend was visibly pregnant, holding the arm of the man next to her with a sweet smile.

I'm a love therapist. My job is to help clients experience what it's like to be in love. One day, a client comes to me, wanting me to serve him in a different manner.

In a world where traditional roles are shattered, meet the enigmatic pair—Alpha and Omega. The Omega defies the stereotype of weakness, while the Alpha discovers he's not as omnipotent as he once believed. Forget about white fur, black fur, or any fantastical notions. In this reality, she doesn't cook, he does, and they both possess an unexpected allure that transcends the ordinary. There are no damsels in distress here, and crowns like "Alpha King," "Red Alpha," or other such titles are merely empty words. She's a rogue, and he's an alpha, but fate has a way of twisting expectations. Bonds form and bonds break, but who said they were meant for each other? Mates may come and go, but that doesn't define their worth. He doesn't require a Luna, and she has no use for an alpha. When the Alpha stumbles, it's the Omega who tends to his wounds. And remember, the Alpha and Omega here aren't bound by conventional gender norms. Buckle up for a story where "forever" takes on a whole new meaning. Discover their captivating journey in "Alpha and Omega," where the lines between strength and vulnerability blur, and destiny takes its unpredictable course. Don't miss out on the secrets that await. Enjoy the suspense!

During the pandemic, to earn more money to pay my bills, I went back to my old part-time job as a blind masseur. However, I did not expect that on the top floor of the office building, there was a hidden special service being offered. My first customer when I went to the top floor to work was the beautiful CEO at my full-time job, Rosaline Dunne. She requested a special massage from me…