Our Fake Marriage Novels & Stories

Gina and I were just ordinary werewolves in the Silver Claw Pack. Our incomes were modest, but we married well. Her mate was the captain of the Silver Claw Pack patrol unit. Mine, the fire squad leader. They grew up together—childhood friends—and were the youngest golden duo in the Werewolf Alliance. On the day we married, our mates each bought us a luxury high-rise apartment on the top floor of the central castle, side by side, with the promise of sharing life and death together. That is, until that fateful night. Rogues broke into the central zone. Chaos reached even the upper levels of our building. The tower caught fire. Amidst the thick smoke, I sent a desperate mind-link to my mate. He blocked it. Turns out, both our mates were busy shielding their shared first love, Lifu. They ignored our calls for help. Gina dragged me as we ran. She was six months pregnant; her pup was already kicking from the panic. Her mate never showed up either. We made it to the stairwell, where we were trapped for five hours. Toxic fumes filled our lungs. I went into labor too early. My pup didn't make it. Gina bled for three days in the hospital. Her pup was gone too. Meanwhile, our mates were digging through the wreckage—twenty-four hours straight—searching for Lifu's lost dog. That was it. Right then and there, Gina and I looked at each other and knew. We were done.

Hazel Jones slides on a beautiful red silk dress with a slit up to her curvy hip and black strappy heels. Her long, chocolate brown hair is up in an elegant style, exposing her neck. She applies mascara and matching red matte lipstick for the finishing touches. She studies herself in the mirror before leaving her apartment and getting into the limo. Hazel may never see her family again but missing the Mate Gala is not an option for her. -------- "How is this possible?" "I don't know, but she is mine too." King Octavius Storm and his mate, Valentina watches as their surprise mate makes her way to The Royals' table. She's a human, and they are the Lycan Royals. A Lycan King has never had more than one mate. It is normal in the Full-Blood District, but not in the Lycan Colony. What makes it even more unique, Octavius and Valentina both felt the mate bond before Hazel stepped foot in the ballroom.

“How Long Were You Going To Wait Before Telling Me?” He Demanded, His Voice Like Velvet Over Steel. She decided to try to bluff him out, then abruptly changed tack, choosing to attack him on his own terms. “I could ask you the same thing. How long were you going to wait before telling me you’d bought this building? I never stood a chance to buy out, did I?” “You would have known in good time, Blair. Now, it is not like you to be unwell, and I assume it can be due to only one thing. So, I will ask you again. How long were you going to wait before telling me you were pregnant?” “Until never!” “Wrong answer.” He covered the short distance between them in the blink of an eye. One arm curved around her back, holding her captive against his body. And darn it, her body responded instantly to his touch.

"Loving you is unhealthy, I know it is" Loving a man with all my heart even if I already know his intention to me wasn't true. All his actions and gestures were just a part of their bet, in short... I'm just a bet. But I still loved him despite all of those red, just this once I want to follow my heart even if I know that it will also ruin me in the end. Just for once I want to know how to love and what it feels to be loved, even if it's just an act. I, Arela Charlie Maurier am willing to take a risk just to know what love feels like, I know I'm awful, but I'm desperate because this is my first and last chance. Love will always be the most painful risk that I'll be willing to take.

A girl jumped into the river, cursing her fate and God. She was sinking in water and a pair of huge arms saved her. Someone, who came to save her is her Saviour. He carries her in her arms and puts her in his car. He reached the hospital in a few minutes with the unconscious body of that girl. All the way, he was looking at her thinking about the girl. She became conscious after treatment of a few hours given by doctors. She asked first of all, as she woke up, "Who saved me?" A sound like a roar is colliding in her ears, "I saved you." "You...... What the hell ?" She yelled. "Don't shout Ms Aradhya Kashyap. Now I gave you a new life so you have to pay for this." Samarth said conditionally. "What should I pay? And why should I pay?" She asked back and added angrily, "Did I ask you to save me?" The disgust for this man was shown on her face. He was just giving a winning smirk to her. "You have to marry me." He bored her orbs sharply. "Marry you, my foot. I will choose to die... Go to hell, Mr Goenka." She replied with disgust in her tone. "Really" He saw her photos when he saved her, she was in torn clothes and it was visible that she was raped. She was startled. He is blackmailing her without hearing her. "If you will not marry me, I will publish it in the newspaper. The choice is yours." He smirked again. A tear spilt over her cheeks, she replied, "Yes, I will marry you. But...." "What but..??" "I'm only 17. How can you marry a minor girl?" "Let me remind you, Ms Aradhya Kashyap, you turned 18. Today is your birthday, 21st February."

Imani Carter has everything she once prayed for—a beautiful home, a rising career in public relations, and a husband, Malik, who has loved her since they were teenagers. From the outside, their marriage looks like a dream. Inside, though, it has grown predictable, careful, and a little too quiet. Hoping to bring excitement back into their relationship, Imani agrees to Malik’s suggestion of inviting a third person into their marriage—just for fun, just for adventure, just once. Enter Zariah. Zariah is magnetic, confident, and everything Imani didn’t realize she was craving—spontaneous, emotionally open, and unapologetically free. What begins as an arrangement with rules quickly shifts into something deeper. Imani finds herself drawn not just to Zariah’s beauty, but to the way she makes her feel seen, heard, and alive in ways her marriage hasn’t in years. As Imani’s feelings grow, Malik senses the shift. What he thought would spice up their relationship starts to feel like a threat he can’t control. His charm turns to suspicion, his affection to obsession. The balance of power inside their marriage cracks, revealing jealousy, possessiveness, and a darkness Imani never noticed before. Caught between loyalty and longing, Imani must decide what love really means—and whether following her heart is worth risking everything she built.

After eight years of marriage, my husband ignored my protests and brought his so-called cancer-stricken first love into our home. “You heartless woman! You don’t have an ounce of compassion! You’re not even worth a single strand of Luna’s hair!” Even my son chimed in, shouting that if I didn’t let Luna Miller in, he wouldn’t acknowledge me as his mother. That was it. I was done. I divorced him and accepted an invitation to return to the design world—back to the top where I belonged. But then they saw the forged cancer diagnosis. And suddenly, the tears came. “Baby, I was tricked! It was always you—I’ve only ever loved you!” “Mom, don’t leave me! I’m your only child!” I didn’t even look at them. Who let these crazy dogs in? They’re in my way—I’ve got an award to accept.

Lottie just knows that her boyfriend is going to propose, but then his big question involves a trip abroad—not a trip down the aisle. Completely crushed, Lottie reconnects with an old flame, and they decide to take drastic action. No dates, no moving in together, they’ll just get married . . . right now. Her sister, Fliss, thinks Lottie is making a terrible mistake, and will do anything to stop her. But Lottie is determined to say “I do,” for better, or for worse.

I had been with Lars Carter for six years. The head of Midas Capital in Eastwind City, he was a rising star in Riverton's Silver Street—the heart of this nation's financial world. Few knew his true roots. Within him flowed the Vitalus bloodline. Lars descended from an old mafia clan from the city of Virgil in Vitalus, the Viktors. Midas Capital was ours. We built it from the ground up together; Lars would haunt private clubs, ironing out business deals amid drinks. I would stay by his side, doing the accounts, steering the direction of the negotiations, and memorizing every detail of the high-stakes contracts. We did everything together—a tight team. Or so I thought. In my naivete, I was convinced I would rule the city alongside him. The woman behind the man, so to speak. …Until Pearl Ross arrived two months ago. His childhood sweetheart moved from Virgil to Eastwind City. It was then that I knew—she was the one he was waiting for all along. It had always been her. "Lars, I want to get married." Lars' face tightened; hesitation veiled in businesslike concern. "Bianca, you know the company's at a critical stage… We're mid-fundraising. I can't right now." I smiled, calm and composed. "That's fine." He misunderstood. I was getting married—just not to him.

My name is Simone Fitzgibbon, a 5-foot 5 woman, with auburn hair and deep hazel eyes. I am also well-known super model Leona Simmons. How is this possible? My father works in prosthetics. He designed a special bodysuit from my waist to my heels. Once I step into it; I have a flawless figure, making me stand at 5-foot 12. It’s also easy to hide my identity once I take it off. Growing up; I attended an elite high school where there were rich, privileged wankers all over the place. Even though I wasn’t rich nor privileged. The biggest wanker of them all was Richard Peterson. He made my life a living hell with his privileged attitude. I was on the receiving end of a lot of his taunts for the last two years of high school. My only problem now; I am to marry his older half-brother Emmett in two days. Our union was sealed when I was 5 by my mother Celeste and his mother Victoria. They were best friends and fellow journalists. That’s before Mum and her died in a car accident when Emmett was 12 and I was 9. Since then, Emmett and Richard’s father Paul; sent Emmett overseas. We haven’t seen each other since.