Panic

As a male Omega, stepping onto the ice was never supposed to be my dream. Hockey belonged to Alphas—strong, dominant, born to conquer both the rink and everyone on it. Omegas like me were meant to stay hidden, protected, controlled. But hiding had never been enough. The World Hockey Academy was the only place powerful enough to shield my identity, the only place my adoptive father—its Dean—believed I could survive. To the public, it was an elite sports academy. To those like me, it was a prison disguised as opportunity. To them… it was Alpha Academy. From the moment I arrived, I swallowed suppressants like oxygen. Every breath had to be measured. Every movement controlled. A single slip—one flare of Omega scent—and I would be exposed. I had to skate like an Alpha. Fight like an Alpha. Bleed like one. On the ice, weakness wasn’t forgiven. That was when I noticed him. The strongest Alpha in the academy. The storm everyone feared. His presence alone made my knees weaken, my instincts scream in panic and hunger all at once. His golden eyes tracked me every time I touched the puck, sharp and suspicious, as if he already sensed something was wrong. During practice, we crashed into each other. The impact sent us both sprawling across the ice—but it was his hand gripping my jersey, his scent crashing over me, that shattered my control. My suppressants burned uselessly in my veins. His lips curved slowly, dangerously, as he leaned close enough for his breath to brush my ear. “Funny,” he murmured, voice low and certain. “For an Alpha… you smell like prey.” My heart slammed against my ribs. If he figured it out, everything would end. And yet— my Omega instincts whispered something far worse. I wanted him closer.

“ Take off your robes,” Ava heard the command and the other slaves obeyed almost immediately. They took off their robes, and their almost naked body came into view except for the tiny little lace that covered nothing but their nipples and balls. The male slave's dick dangled and Ava looked away, still clutching her robe to herself. How could she undress in front of this multitude? What kind of humiliation was this? The audience erupted into murmurs, indecent comments flying from every corner. “ Steele, you slave seemed to be a disobedient one,” Ava heard the man's stern words and she turned to see Jacob’s stern gaze on her. She gulped and slowly let go of her robe. It fell to the ground and the audience gasped at the sight of her nakedness. Her hands clenched into fists by her side, resisting the urge to pick her robe from the floor and cover herself from their lustful eyes. “ Shit! How did Jacob get himself such a perfect slave?” Panic gripped Ava. No. It cannot be what she is thinking. She wasn't about to fuck these people. No. Jacob cannot make her do this. I was only his tool for power and revenge. I should have known he was no ordinary man but knowing wouldn't have changed anything. I was helpless, trapped with no choice and he was my savior from the Slave den back then. My hatred for him wouldn’t have allowed me to go with someone else. It’s not like I had a choice to choose my buyer. He was the highest bidder and I’m a commodity he bought from an illegal market. A commodity he has great plans for. His tool for power and revenge but I hate that my heart palpates for him.

“What made you think you had the right,” he asked softly, dangerously, “to question me, little omega?” Her pulse thundered in her skin, loud enough she was sure he could hear it. Hunter inhaled. His eyes darkened. A slow smirk spread across his face. “Such a dirty little vixen,” he murmured slowly. “I can smell your arousal.” Her head shook frantically, panic flooding her features. “No— I—” “I’m here asking a question,” he continued, his voice low and intimate, “and you’re getting aroused?” ****. Athena had always been the outcast of her pack, the omega with a weak wolf and no value. Her pack used her, beat her and worked her like a slave. And when her fated mate, the Alpha’s younger brother rejected her, whatever remained of her spirit shattered. She became invisible. But her life took an even darker turn the day she was kidnapped and auctioned off to a beta of black moon territory as an offer to the most feared being in all the packs—THE CURSED LYCAN KING. A dragon and lycan hybrid. Hunter, the Cursed King, needed a breeder. Every woman in the realm feared even hearing his name, terrified of the curse that lived within him. So when an omega, a weak wolf was offered to him, he cursed the moment his beta was ever born. She was too fragile and too breakable that carrying his child could very well kill her. What he didn’t know was that Athena was the last Silver Wolf alive. And the moment his teeth grazed her skin, her power exploded to life. Now, enemies and Alphas are plotting. And Hunter, the monster everyone fears finds himself willing to burn kingdoms to nothing in order to protect the one woman he never expected to want…

My husband, Chandler Goodwin, claims that he doesn't understand what the phrases "silent treatment" or "giving the cold shoulder" mean. Yet, in the three years we have been married, he has never once spoken to me sweetly. The first time we have a falling out, I remain proud and dignified. We end up ignoring each other for seven days straight. The seventh time we have a cold standoff, I start to panic a little. However, despite trying all sorts of methods, he doesn't back down. The 11th time it happens, I have already learned to work through my emotions myself. Chandler doesn't even need to say anything before I take the initiative to apologize first. I simply think that he's just a naturally indifferent person, that nobody can warm his stone-cold heart. Then, on the third year of our marriage, I accidentally ruin his dress shirt while ironing it. Chandler doesn't say a word, but that very night, he packs his things and moves into a hotel. On the third day of being blocked, I head to his company with a handwritten apology. While passing by his office, I spot him leaning over to shoot his angry assistant a doting smile. "I'm sorry for raising my voice at you just now and upsetting you. It's been 57 minutes since you started ignoring me. Please stop giving me the cold shoulder, alright?" I freeze on the spot, the apology letter in my hand practically burning my fingers. As it turns out, it's not that he doesn't know what the silent treatment means—it's just that I've never been the person he wants to coax.

I never wanted any part in this. But I have no choice. With a deep sigh, I force down an invisible lump in my throat, looking up at the priest. I press my fingers tighter into the flower I am holding, hoping it hides how much I am shaking. Dreading the words the priest is about to utter. “Do you, Ariella Cecilia Boone, take Dermos Salvatore to be your lawfully wedded husband?” The priest asks. I blink. I badly want to say it, badly want to scream that I am not Ariella Cecilia Boone. My lips tremble as I force the truth down my throat, “Yes, I do.” I murmur, my voice a little over a whisper. ~~~~ Ariel Hannah Boone didn't know what life had in store for her when she woke up on her twin sister's wedding day, only to find out her sister had run away. She went into panic when her mother insisted she take her place because Dermos Salvatore was no man to joke with. Dermos was the most feared Don in the whole of Sicily, one who killed without care. A blood thirsty murderer with no remorse. In an attempt to save her family from his wrath, she takes her sister's place at the wedding. Pain, suffering, and betrayal are all she knows the moment she became his. Secrets begin to unveil as she realises her family isn't what it seems. And when whispers of her sister's disappearance reach her, she finds out the truth. He never wanted Ariella; it had always been her. Ariel has to choose between a love built on lies or betraying her sister and family. She was his bride, and he was her prison, yet he would never let her go.

SAVAGE LOVE GENRE: Romance By, Tamar writes PROLOGUE Amour sniffed back her tears as she watched the scene before her. Never in her life would she have imagined getting herself in this situation she currently was. It felt like a never ending nightmare. The sound of footsteps was what rented the room, it was coming from a tall figure, his gaze never left the man that was tied down on a chair with both his hands chained down on the table The figure held a sharp silver colored knife in his hand, twirling as if it was his play toy, a vicious smirk playing on his lips Every step he took instilled fear and panic inside the man that was tied down. “Boss please forgive me! I was drunk so I thought she was one of the clan's whóre I swear I didn't know she was yours" The man begged like his life depended on it. "Which hand did you use to touch her" Aurelio spoke calmly. "My.. My.. L-Left-" He wasn't chanced to finish his sentence when Aurelio cut off his left hand completely. Blood splashed on his cheek as it began bumping out of the man's hand. "Aargh!!!" The agonizing cry from the man echoed in the room as he peed on himself. Aurelio turned to Amour who looked horrified with the scene she just witnessed. His hands found his way to her neck and he gripped it tightly, bringing her face close to his so he could have a clear view of the terrified look on her face. "This Is just the highest level of my kindness compared to what I can do. Remember this, you're mine! Mine to touch, mine to f**k, mine to do whatever I want with... No one else... But me"

In my last life, my brother Leo—the heir to the Moretti crime family—stripped our estate bare of every last soldier, all for a Vegas jaunt. All because his new flame, Scarlett, had a jones for the high-roller tables. The Volkovs—our rivals, the very ones Leo had just pissed off—saw their opening and stormed our gates. My mother, Sofia, took a bullet meant for me. Died protecting me. I blew up Leo’s phone, my pleas turning to screams. He didn't answer. He waltzed back in after the shooting stopped, bringing our men home, but far too late for it to matter. Then, the news from Vegas. Scarlett was gone. A suicide note left behind. In it, she painted me as the monster. The one who’d leaked our weaknesses to the Volkovs. The one who'd orchestrated a fake kidnapping and torture plot, all to drive her to despair and lure Leo home. A perfect, tragic lie. Leo read the letter calmly. Then he burned the letter and told me, "Forget it. It's handled." Father tore into Leo for abandoning his post, for leaving his family to die. And me? I was named the new Consigliere. But after the celebration, Leo cornered me in the wine cellar. His face was a mask of cold fury as he pressed the barrel of his gun to my forehead. "This is for family traitors," he hissed, his voice pure venom. "The throne is my birthright, not some backstabbing bitch's prize!" When I opened my eyes again, I was back. Right in the middle of the fire and the blood. This time, I shoved my mother behind me, dragging her toward the panic room. And the bastards who were too blind to believe me? They’ll regret it.

Liana Elizabeth Rose of the prestigious Rose family woke gasping—remembering everything. At first, she thought it was a dream. Or a hallucination. Maybe heaven, maybe hell, or wherever people go when life has been cruel enough to steal their breath. But the room was the same. The curtains were the same. The smooth, unscarred skin she touched was the same. As if the last five years of betrayal and humiliation had never etched themselves into her. Then the panic hit. She remembered. Every. Single. Thing. The cold metal of prison bars. Her husband Adrian’s dead, beautiful eyes accusing her of the accident. The trial. The cousin who framed her. The family who abandoned her. The little brother who no longer remembered her voice. Her death. And the cruelest truth: she wasn’t even from this world. It was a book a stupid novel her roommate had recommended. She died inside a story she didn’t write. And now, she woke up at the moment everything began to crumble. Fine. Sharpen her mind. Feed her ambition. And when the plot tried to drag her back, she’d pull harder. Then there was him—Adrian. From his point of view, the world shifted. Her scent. Her voice. Her existence. Everything about her crawled under his skin, sank into his bloodstream, coiled around his bones. He didn’t understand it. He didn’t want to. He only knew: if she breathed, he wanted it. If she moved, he followed. Obsession wasn’t a symptom—it was his nature. And Liana? She had rewritten herself into the one thing he could never let go of. This time, she wasn’t the victim. She wasn’t a plot device. She was the storm. And Adrian? Learning, too late, that even possession has a price.

Devlin, while on the run from his grandfather's control, accidentally obtained a necklace without him knowing that in it was a captive fox. After returning, his girlfriend Anthea had a life-threatening accident, he wore that necklace for Anthea, also from that moment, the spirit of the nine-chasing fox entered Anthea's body. That fox's name is Renata, she wakes up with a new identity and lives in a completely different society from five hundred years ago. After the accident Renata came back to life under the name Anthea, she didn't know anything about this girl so when she woke up everyone thought Renata was Anthea and thought Anthea lost her memory due to the accident. Devlin discovers that his girlfriend has betrayed him so he decides to keep Anthea by his side to avenge her, but after a while, he discovers that Anthea has turned into a different person after waking up, all habits and events Her understanding changes but it's strange that he tolerates all these changes even to fall in love with this strange girl in this familiar appearance. He became suspicious and discovered that Anthea was not human, he had accidentally seen Renata's nine fox tails on a full moon night, but he did not panic and threw Renata away. This was the first time Renata had seen someone who saw her true form without seeing her as a monster. The two of them gradually fell in love with each other, but the difference between humans and foxes caused them to go through a lot of hardship and suffering. Renata had never hoped to become a human like this. Where will their love go? Will Renata's sincere prayer move the angels to let her become human and live a normal human life?

In the Sinclair pack, I had always been different. Years ago, my grandfather saved the Elder’s life. To repay that debt, the Elder promised that one of his grandsons would become my mate. In my first life, on the night of the Blood Moon, he asked me, “Evelyn, who will you choose?” Blushing, I pointed to the brightest star of the tribe, Andrew Sinclair. But after our wedding, he kept me at a distance. I was confused—until one night, I opened the wrong door. Andrew was on one knee, clutching my cousin Clara’s portrait as if it were his lifeline. His body moved in a way that made my heart twist. My world collapsed. He had never loved me. His heart—his desire—had always belonged to her. Darkness swallowed me, body and soul. My husband lied to me and betrayed the oath we had sworn to the Moon Goddess. The cruel truth broke me, and sickness followed. I died with his child inside me—alone. But the moon gave me another chance. I woke again on that same night. The Elder smiled down at me. Four portraits lay before him. “Evelyn, tonight is your twenty-first rite. Who will you choose?” “You’ve always chased Andrew,” he said kindly. “It must be him—” “No!” The hall fell silent. “Grandfather… I don’t want Andrew.” In panic, I snatched a portrait. “I want him!” The boy on the page wore black. His skin was pale, his lips curved in a mad, crooked smile. William Sinclair. The sick wolf. The one everyone mocked. But I remembered how he had tried to help me find a good doctor. He was the only one who had cared about me when I was dying. And yes—this time, I chose him.