Pretty Af Artinya Novels & Stories

Born of Alpha bloodline, Twilight is destined to succeed her father in ruling the Silver Pack. The young, free-spirited alpha female is the strongest warrior in the pack, surpassing even her own father, and never cared about whether or not she would find her mate. Until the day she found him, the young Alpha-to-be of a neighbouring pack. Only to have him reject her for his bed buddy. Enraged and broken-hearted, she ran away and got severely injured along the way. Suddenly, she woke up in an unfamiliar place, only to find that her second-chance mate, Takumi, saved her. But her now cold-hearted self refuses to accept another mate but he won't give up that easily. Can Takumi win the Alpha's heart? Here’s a little sneak peek: “Imagine the one person who was literally made for you, supposed to be your other half and complete you in a way that no one else can and yet wants nothing to do with you. I’m over it, but I still feel like a monster for how I reacted to it. I know it happened a long time ago, but I still hate myself for it. His dad said it was ok, but I think he only said it to make me feel less guilty and deep down he hates me. And I'm pretty sure everyone else feels the same way.” It was then that she felt a little wetness on her face; she didn't realize that tears were streaming down her cheeks the whole time. That's when she broke down into more tears. Takumi pulled her into a hug.

I was preparing a gift for our six-year anniversary when my best friend sent me a photo of my Alpha boyfriend kissing another she-wolf. "Wait, when did you get to Chicago?" The she-wolf in the picture looked a lot like me, but it wasn't me. That's when I found out that my boyfriend of six years had been searching for replacements for his dead childhood sweetheart the whole time. I was number 5. The she-wolf in the photo was number 18. I rushed to Chicago and tracked down Lucas using his phone's location. "Dude, this number 18 really looks like Ally, even more than Sophia does!" "Nah man, Sophia still looks more like her. She's number 5 after all - if she didn't look so much like Ally, why would Lucas have stuck with her for six years?" Lucas flicked his cigarette ash, looking completely relaxed: "They both look pretty similar, but number 18's way better in bed. Sophia's too uptight." "I heard you had someone pick out a diamond ring. You planning to propose? To Sophia or this new chick?" Lucas leaned back into the couch with a cocky grin: "Haven't decided yet. Why don't you guys choose for me?" I turned around, my whole body shaking as a chill ran from my head to my toes. After calming down, I texted my best friend: "Your Alpha cousin, the one who had a crush on me and waited four years - is he still single?"

"A week ago, if you had told me that the world as I knew it was all a lie, that all of the fairy tales that my father used to tell me at bed time were actually not fairy tales and that all these supernatural beings, such as vampires, shapeshifters, fairies and dragons, were actually real, I would have laughed at you until I had peed myself and then called the men in white coats to come and get you. Now, a week later, as I am in the middle of a forest standing by the most beautiful lake I have ever seen, surrounded by wolves in various sizes and colours, and a number of very large, very muscular and very, very naked men, I am starting to think that maybe it is I, who is in need of the straight jacket and padded room and a hell of a lot of medication and sedatives as i am pretty certain i have completely lost the use of all my faculties and you are soon going to find me sat in a corner, rocking back and forth and talking to myself as none of this is making any sense to my primitive brain." Kari Has grown up alone, Her father disappeared when she was 5 and her mother killed herself when she was 8. After a string of Foster homes, she finds her self working as a Research Scientist where her boss and Best Friend sends her to Norway to work for The Nordic Research Corporation. When she gets there she finds that she is in for a shock. Not only does she find out she does have a family, but everything she ever knew is going to change. Her life becomes more complicated than she could ever have thought it would.

Three years ago, the third most powerful mafia family in the country was slaughtered in a single night. Every member was executed without mercy… except one. Tiana. The bastard daughter no one cared enough to kill. Spared not out of kindness, but cruelty, she is dragged away as a captive and forced to endure three years of brutality at the hands of her family’s murderers, until the vibrant girl she once was disappears completely, leaving behind a mute, obedient girl. When her captors finally grow tired of her, she is disguised as a frail boy to increase her value and is thrown into an underground auction to be sold as damaged property. Marcus Valcari, a powerful mafia boss, had no interest in buying human property that night. He only raised his paddle because his girlfriend whimsically wanted the “pretty mute boy” as a birthday gift. The very night Tiana stepped into the Valcari estate, she wandered into a forbidden room to find a man who had been unconscious for nearly a year. A man doctors had declared would never wake again. Don Demetri Valcari. The most feared heir of the Valcari empire. The true devil of the underworld. Perhaps out of foolishness or curiosity, Tiana touches him. At just her touch, the man wakes, and the first thing his dark eyes see after months of darkness is her. What begins as curiosity quickly turns into a a dark obsession. Now marked by the ruthless man known to never accept refusal, Tiana must survive his growing obsession while guarding her biggest secret. But the longer she stays within his clutches, the harder it becomes to maintain her disguise. If he discovers the truth, there is no telling whether he will protect her… or ruin her completely for deceiving him.

“Why… am I in your bedroom?” My voice dropped into a whisper. He breathed out a laugh, the sound carrying a dangerously dark allure. He sat on the bed, and I hurriedly curled up my legs, desperate to gain more distance. He saw the movement, and his lips curled up. “You don't remember anything from last night, do you?” “L-last night?” I stuttered, crawling back against the headboard. “I bought you.” My body shuddered. I slowly lifted my head, facing him. “What… do you mean?” A smirk appeared. “You were a pretty item on the auction, and now you're mine.” *** After years of cruelty and abuse, I finally escaped from the one who hurt me, but my freedom was more fragile than I thought. I had run away from brutal prison only to be sold at the auction and locked up in a golden cage. My new owner was Grey Maledetti, the wealthiest and most feared man in New York. I thought I could escape him, but he wouldn't free me from his grasp. The more I tried to resist, the harder I was drawn toward him. He was dangerous. He was possessive. He was intoxicating. I breathed him in like a drug, slowly becoming an addict. I thought he would destroy me; instead, he mended what was broken. He embraced my every weakness and lent me his deadly strength. Grey Maledetti is no knight in shining armor. He is the King of Hell, and now his blade is pointed at those who hurt me…

My crippled sister, Monica Porter, jumped from the roof of the classroom building. The day before she died, she had just been fitted with the custom prosthetic legs I had paid for with ten years of savings. She was glowing, excited to finally stand up on her own. But my wife's best friend, a guy she said was just like a brother to her, locked Monica inside an empty art room. He smashed her new legs, forced her to crawl on the floor and lick paint clean to retrieve the broken parts, and recorded everything on video. And my wife, a judge, ultimately ruled that the case could not stand. "The video cannot confirm the time it was recorded and may represent consensual performance art between both parties," she said. Sandra Pauley's final judgment was simple. "The deceased had a history of depression. The school and the defendant bear no responsibility." I smiled and cooked her a full table of food. The next day, I hung the bully, Eric Hoyles, from the school's flagpole and livestreamed it to the entire internet. "Honey, remember how you said Monica had such pretty legs?" I raised a claw hammer and brought it down on his ankle. "If you don't hand over the video evidence right now, I'll hook out his Achilles tendon one strand at a time and let him learn what it feels like to crawl!" The wind passed through. His screaming broke apart in the air, mixing with the strained creaking of the flagpole until it sounded almost like music. The live chat went insane. Meanwhile, I laughed until my eyes filled with tears.

On the night of our wedding, my gold-medal lawyer wife, Aurora Sterling, abandoned me and tangled herself with her assistant, Kieran Holt. Kieran barged into our bridal suite carrying his vegetative-state fiancee, Elara Holt, and demanded we swap spouses. I refused without hesitation. Right there on the spot, he drugged me and forcibly locked me in a room with Elara. Meanwhile, he held Aurora in our newlywed bed and used eighteen condoms that night. The next morning, I stormed into the office to confront him. Instead, I saw Aurora kneeling between his legs. When she noticed me, Kieran shuddered and quickly pulled away before standing up. "Rowan, Aurora didn’t get enough last night, so I brought her out for some fun again. Don’t worry. This will be the last time. I won’t disturb you two anymore." He turned to leave. However, Aurora stopped him reluctantly. "Kieran, you're not the one who should leave." Then she turned to me, her face dark with anger. "Elara became a vegetable because she saved my life. I have an obligation to fulfill a wife’s duties for her. "From now on, I’ll accompany Kieran on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. The rest of the days I’ll stay with you. I’m even giving you an extra day, so you should be satisfied." As I watched the absurd scene unfold before me, rage finally exploded inside my chest. Just as I was about to erupt, my phone suddenly chimed. Ding. "Hey, handsome, your skills are pretty good. Interested in developing a long-term arrangement?"

How much could an Alpha compensate a woman before the compensation started to look like a joke? Kaelan Blackthorne was very good at compensating me. He was rich enough to own mines, ports, a pharmaceutical empire, and half a financial district. He was also the strongest Alpha the Blackthorn Pack had produced in centuries. And I was his unmarked mate. For three years, every time he postponed our mate ceremony to comfort Vera, his widowed sister-in-law, he sent me another gift. A blue diamond necklace. A room of couture gowns. His mother’s platinum crown. Every time a velvet box arrived at my door, Vera sent me a video. [So what if he buys you pretty things? I’m the one he stays with when the moon rises.] [You get his guilt. I get his time.] I didn’t cry. I didn’t beg. I didn’t grab his sleeve and ask why he was leaving me behind again. When Kaelan postponed the ceremony for the sixth time, he finally promised it would happen in three days. This time, I only picked the most expensive crown on the list and handed him the transfer papers. He signed without looking. For the first time in days, his eyes softened. “After the ceremony, Eve, I’ll take you to the Full Moon Vow Ball. Every pack will know you’re mine.” I smiled, put the papers away, and said, “Okay.” I just didn’t tell him what he had really signed. It wasn’t another gift list. It was my application to cancel our mate ceremony.

I'm Lilith. My biggest trauma used to be my dad forgetting to book my Santorini villa, I know, the absolute horror of it all. I had the Porsche, the diamonds, the designer wardrobe that took up two whole rooms, and Jax, the perfect boyfriend who looked at me like I hung the moon. I thought I was the main character. Plot twist? I was wrong. Turns out I wasn't being raised as the Alpha's darling. I was being fattened up for slaughter. My parents didn't love me, they were just my wardens, keeping me soft and pretty and completely clueless. And that Gala everyone kept whispering about? Not my debutante ball. An auction. I got sold to the Triad like a piece of art, like a handbag, like I was something to own. The Triad. Three terrifying, bloodthirsty Alphas who make the monsters under your bed look like stuffed animals. They need me for some twisted prophecy I never signed up for, and they don't care what I want. Obviously. And the cherry on top of this hot-mess express? Jax held the door open for them. My perfect boyfriend counted his money while they dragged me away. They think they can break the spoiled princess. They think I'm just a "Spawn of Lilith" meant to be served on a silver platter. Soft and sweet and easy to swallow. Here's what they don't get. When you take away a girl's credit cards, her freedom, her whole damn life? The monster underneath is way more expensive to deal with than a few Birkins ever were.

My husband dotes on me. He's always saying I'm the one he cherishes most in this life. Everyone else envies me too, saying I married well—pampered like a princess. It all started when I mentioned, offhand, that tailored cuts flatter my figure. From that moment on, he kept it in mind every day, going out of his way to gather all kinds of designer womenswear for me. In the walk-in closet at home, there's always a wardrobe filled exclusively with my new clothes—each piece haute couture, with exquisite fabrics and impeccable craftsmanship. On New Year's Eve in our third year of marriage, the house was lively, packed with relatives chatting and laughing. With a smile, my husband handed me a gift box. "Go on, open your New Year's present." The frustration and resentment I'd been bottling up for so long exploded in an instant. I shoved the box to the floor. "It's the New Year—can you just stop for once?" The moment the words left my mouth, everyone fell silent. The relatives' expressions shifted; one after another, they began to scold me for being ungrateful, for not knowing how lucky I was. My husband looked at me, eyes full of shock and hurt. "I just bought you some pretty clothes. Why are you angry?" Amid their pointing fingers and his wounded questioning, I rushed into the walk-in closet like I'd lost my mind, dragging out those designer clothes and throwing them all over the floor. Everyone stared at me, stunned. No one said another word.