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After graduation, I spend a year interning with my mentor, a healer, out in the neutral lands—no packs, no laws, and no one to protect me. My brother, the Lycan Chairman of all werewolves, nearly loses his mind over it. He's terrified I'll fall for some Rogue and impulsively form a reckless mate bond. As such, he handpicks an arranged mate for me—Falcon Sterling, the Alpha of the strongest pack in Northmere. He's handsome and dangerous, a legendary figure. My brother orders me to come home for the mating ceremony, so I have no choice but to go pick out a Luna crown. At the jewelry shop, my eyes snap straight to a crown made of pure silver and covered in diamonds. Just as I reach out to take it, a sharp female voice cuts in. "I like the one she's holding. I'll take it. Hand it over." Before I can react, the clerk snatches the crown right out of my hands, nearly scraping my skin. I straighten up, forcing myself to stay calm. "Ever heard of 'first come, first served?' I saw it first. Is this how you do things here?" The she-wolf slowly turns toward me, casting me a long, mocking look. "This crown costs 300 thousand dollars. You sure you can afford it, peasant? I grew up with the Alpha of the Silvermoon pack, Falcon Sterling. Around here, I make the rules." I stare at her, almost laughing. Isn't that funny? Falcon just happens to be my arranged mate. I pull out my phone and press the call button. "Hey, Falcon. Your adorable childhood sweetheart just stole the Luna crown I'm supposed to wear for the mating ceremony. What do you think I should do about that?"

Duas semanas antes do casamento, Theo Salles de repente adiou a cerimônia de novo. — A Suzana disse que nesse dia vai inaugurar sua primeira exposição. — Explicou ele. — Ela vai estar sozinha na abertura, tenho medo que ela não consiga segurar a pressão. Com certeza vai precisar de alguém ao lado. — Continuou. — Nós não precisamos dessa formalidade. Casar hoje ou amanhã, qual é a diferença? Mas essa já era a terceira vez que ele adiava nosso casamento por causa da Suzana Lima. Na primeira vez, ele disse que Suzana tinha saído de uma cirurgia e sentia falta da comida da terra natal. Então, sem hesitar, ele foi para o exterior cuidar dela por dois meses. Na segunda vez, ele disse que Suzana ia se isolar nas montanhas para pintar em busca de inspiração. Ficou preocupado achando que não era seguro ela ir sozinha, por isso, foi junto. Esta é a terceira vez. Desliguei o telefone e olhei para Léo Duarte, meu amigo de infância, sentado preguiçosamente à minha frente. A bengala na sua mão, incrustada de esmeraldas, batia ritmicamente no chão de mármore. Você ainda quer uma esposa? — Perguntei. No dia do meu casamento, Suzana, sorridente e encantadora, ergueu sua taça esperando que um homem brindasse com ela. Mas esse homem, de olhos vermelhos, estava assistindo ao vivo o casamento do herdeiro do maior grupo imobiliário do país, o Grupo Duarte.

My name is Christian Thompson, and once upon a time, I was the best striker in European football. That was until he came along—Ashford Ryder, young and carefree, 10 years my junior and the new shining star. I hate him. At least that's what I tell myself. Not just because he's taken my spot, but because he's everything I've struggled all my life to be, and not to be. He's vibrant, he's happy, and the worst of all, he's openly gay. I'm not homophobic, quite the opposite—I've lived in the closet all my life. All my life, I've had to hide who I am to please the people around me. European football hasn't always been this accepting of gay men, and I'd squeezed myself into a box to fit in with what they wanted of me. It isn’t that hard when you think about my family who'd rather disown me than have an openly gay son. So imagine how I feel when the world decides to be more accommodating to people like Ashford Ryder when they shoved me in a box. It's not so easy to hate the happy-go-lucky striker, when he does everything to get close to me, despite my insistent hatred for him. He's like a thorn in my side—a hot, sexy, blonde, 5ft9 thorn I can't stop thinking about. But when one day I lose my cool around the popular striker and land myself in bad press, I end up needing his help. It's supposed to be easy. Spend some time with Ashford Ryder, and show our fans that we can work together—it's what I need to do to save my career. But no one tells you how hard it is to hate someone you spend every waking hour dreaming about.

“Admit it,” He growls, pressing my back into the wall. “You like it when I piss you off.” Fuck, I hate Hayes so much. My breath hitches and I brace my hands against his chest. “You’re delusional.” “Am I?” He smirks and leans in, mouth hovering just inches from my ear. “Then why do you look like you're about to kiss me–or punch me? Either way, Carter, I win.” “Fuck you!” I spit. Dorian chuckles darkly, roughly kicking my legs apart so he can press his knee hard up against my dick. “Oh you will, Golden boy. And when you do, it won’t be because I forced you. It’ll be because you begged for my cock.” For Noah Carter, hockey isn’t just a game–it’s an escape. The golden boy captain with a killer smile and a secret he can’t afford to slip, Noah’s carefully crafted lie is falling apart with every practice and every time he locks eyes with HIM. HIM. Dorian Hayes is fire on the ice with only one mission--Make it to the NHL. But there’s one person he never expected to see when he got in Bridgewater to play for the Artic-Blades. Noah Fucking Carter. The one person he hates with everything inside him. Cue in a plan to destroy everything Noah stands for. But every time their bodies collide on the ice, Dorian can’t deny the pull. It’s infuriating, maddening…and addictive. He doesn’t want to want Noah, but when their rivalry shifts from Icy stares to scalding touches, Dorian is forced to confront a truth he’s spent years skating away from: sometimes, the person you hate the most is the only one who truly sees you.

I reach for the door handle, the cold metal biting into my skin as I press my thumb against the latch. Before I can pull the door open, Cade's arm shoots out from behind me, slamming it shut. My body jolts, my heart leaping into my throat as I feel the heat of his body against my back. He lowers himself to me, his breath fanning my ear. "Are you walking out on me again, Elysian?” A shaky breath parts my lips, the hair on the back of my neck standing on its ends. "I never walked out on you, Cade…" My voice falters, betraying me. "Don't lie to me." His tone is aggressive. "I told you a long time ago never to walk away from me again. Are you always so careless?” I try to swallow, but my throat is too tight. "I'm sorry," I manage, the words barely audible. "You said that already," he challenges me, warning me to choose my next words carefully. But I can't. I can't think. I can't move. As his grip on the door tightens, I realize he's not giving me a choice. ⊰ Heartprints in the Void ⊱ My name is Elysian Reign, and I'm not extraordinary. His name is Cade Sinclair, and unlike me, he is extraordinary. At the age of 25, he inherited billions from his trillionaire father—David Sinclair. You never imagine that the love of your life's own father would manipulate his son's life to get rid of you—even if it means forcing him into an experimental hypnosis treatment. After three years, you'd think I'd have learned my lesson. You'd think I would've changed my identity and left the country after walking in on my first day at my new and finding out that Cade is now my boss.

"First time?" he asks, lowering his hand to my abdomen, his body tensing. I bite my lip, seeing his eyes flash with something dark. He pushes deeper inside me, and I wince. Pain shoots through me, but pleasure quickly follows, numbing me to the world. The sparks and tingles distract me from the discomfort. "So tight," he murmurs as he pulls out. "Please," I moan recklessly, knowing I should stop him but It feels so good. "Eager to feel my c**k," he growls as he thrusts back inside me, his voice makes me forget the pain. But I lose myself, existing only for the man inside me. As the thrusts cease, his ragged breaths send shivers down my spine. I press my forehead into the pillow, disoriented. "Mine..." He growls. Then Asher takes a deep breath, and he says the words that shatter my heart. "I, Asher Knight, Alpha of the Redwood Pack, hereby reject you, Alethea Weaver of BloodMoon pack as my mate." *** Alethea hasn't fully awakened her wolf. Her life takes a darker turn when her father forces her to be a breeder to Xavier, the Beta of the Bluemoon Pack. But when Xavier's jealous girlfriend threatens her life, Alethea has no choice but to run. Alethea is attacked but saved by a shadowy figure-Alpha Asher, knowing she is his fated mate. With her wolf still dormant, Alethea is unaware of the deep connection between them. Asher, torn between duty ends things. A brutal accident leaves Alethea with no memory of her past-and no idea that she's carrying Asher's child. As she rebuilds her life, hidden truths, and long-buried secrets begin to resurface. Will she uncover why Asher pushed her away? And as rival packs close in, will she discover her power before it's too late?

“This is forbidden, Asael….”she uttered, making him clench his jaw. “This is wrong,” once again she repeated those same exact words to him which had destroyed his life 3 years ago brutally. “Why is this wrong, Ezrene? Because I am your fucking stepbrother?” He seethed out at her, slamming her against his sinewy body. “Why is this forbidden because my fucking father is going to marry your mother?” he spat at her. “But as far as I could remember….” He thrusted his face dangerously closer to hers. “You had let this stepbrother of yours get closer to you to that extent where you had fucking conceived with his child,” those words of his numbed her very existence completely. “That same exact child of mine which you killed with your own hands before I even got to know about its existence,” that utterly venomous pain flashed in his eyes which teared her up more, making him press his forehead against hers. “Your dad will kill you for this, Asael,” A lethal smirk formed on his face at her words. “You think I am afraid of him and my death?” He asked her while lifting his hands up to palm her face. “If I would have been afraid of my father and my death then I wouldn't have abducted you from you altar, in front of your fucking would-be husband, my father and the whole world, bella,”wiping her eyes, he pushed his face closer to hers. “Because we both know you're just mine, mi bella,” he pressed his lips against hers, causing her soul to break by finding herself trapped in the arms of her love and…… What brutality this love of hers was going to make her endure because she was in love with HER OBSESSED STEPBROTHER?

"I’ll make you beg and cry out my name, Father Hale. You won’t even be able to face the altar without remembering how you came apart on my tongue." Vincente terrifying voice admitted curling around the crucifix at my throat as his rough, unforgiving fingers, pinned my wrists above my head. His thigh shoved between mine, spreading me open, and the heavy press of his cock ground against the thin barrier of my underclothes. Mine answered before I could stop it, swelling shamefully through the thin clothes that clung like a second, traitorous skin. "Feel that?" he whispered, rolling slow, merciless circles that tore a broken sound from my throat. "That’s your body confessing louder than any prayer." I tried to twist away, but the movement only dragged my hips harder against him. "Please," I gasped, the word cracking open like a wound. "Vicente —God—" "God’s not here," he growled, his teeth grazing the shell of my ear. "Only me, you don't call God when you are about to sin." His hands slipped under me working on me. I bit my lip until I tasted blood, but the moan slipped out anyway, raw and ragged. "Say it. Say you want me," he demanded, his thumb circling the slick head until my vision blurred. "Beg me to stop. Or beg me not to." A sob tore free as my body arched, chasing the pleasure I hated myself for craving. "Please...Vicente—" He swallowed the broken plea with his mouth, teeth and tongue, sucking the faint copper of my own blood. When he pulled back, his eyes glittered like black glass. "Oh." He smiled, "You mean I can continue?" And my last hope to get him stop chattered.

Éthan et moi avions convenu de nous rendre ce matin dans la Forêt de la Lune pour célébrer notre mariage privé. Cependant, il est arrivé à l'aéroport à la dernière minute, pressé et haletant. À la dernière seconde avant l'embarquement, un appel urgent de son assistant Oméga est arrivé. « Chérie, ma future Luna, il y a une affaire commerciale urgente dans la meute que je dois régler personnellement », il a dit. Il me serrait fort dans ses bras, sa voix pleine de regret. « Peux-tu y aller seule pour le moment ? Attends-moi quelques jours, et dès que j'aurai réglé tout cela, je te promets, au nom de la Déesse de la Lune, de venir te rejoindre immédiatement. » Bien que le désespoir m'envahisse comme une marée, les affaires de la meute passaient avant tout, je faisais donc semblant de comprendre, malgré la douleur. Lorsqu'il s'était retourné et était parti, j'ai déchiré mon billet d'avion. Je voulais voir de mes propres yeux quelle meute insensée osait défier ma position de véritable dirigeante de la Meute de la Lumière, fille unique du chef de l'alliance des loups, et se permettre de discuter de prétendues « affaires de l'alliance » avec un Alpha qui n'était qu'un nom sur papier. Après tout, le territoire et les richesses de toute la Meute de la Lumière avaient déjà été repris par mes soins quelques heures auparavant, en silence.

Noami grew up with an abusive mother, and so when she turned 18, she decided to hunt her ex-stepfather down as he was the only one who ever truly cared about her. She absolutely adores him, and he adores her right back. Can their love survive, albeit changed a drunken reunion, bullies from the past, and unwanted suitors? Or will everything they face tear them apart when they just found each other again? Or will his money play a part in his demise? I tilted my head back as I fell against his chest and he immediately lowered his head to press his lips against mine. Oh, God! Not again. This was bad. I needed to pull away. Why wasn’t I pulling away? Why was I opening my mouth so he could deepen the kiss? And why were my hands going under his shirt to stroke along his muscles? Fuck! I closed my eyes as I leaned against him, enjoying the kiss more than I should. When he finally pulled away, I looked up at him mesmerized by our kiss for the second time. He grinned down at me as his eyes danced merrily. “So, were you serious about what you said?” he asked huskily, confusing me. “What did I say?” I replied. His hands moved down my body until his hands were gripping my ass. “You said you were going to let me have you.” When my mouth dropped open in shock, he groaned. “Or we can start with that if you prefer.” I snapped my mouth shut when what he meant registered in my head. “Oh, God!” He chuckled as he pulled me up his body a little so that I could feel his erection. “Say yes and I’ll make you scream that.” “I-I…yes."