Roses And Champagne Zig

My son is gravely ill. His inner wolf is too weak to awaken, and the healer warns that without the Alpha’s blood to strengthen his spirit, he may not last the next full moon. He clutches my hand, his feverish golden eyes dimming. “Mother, can Father take me to the Barnum & Bailey Circus？” But no matter how many times I summon my mate through the pack bond, he does not answer. His presence in the mind-link is an empty void. I can only hold my son as his small body trembles. I whisper stories of wolf warriors and great Alphas, but his breathing grows weaker. When the dawn breaks, his tiny fingers slip from mine. His wolf never wakes. A few days later, the scent of wild roses floods our pack’s sacred grounds. I turn—and there he is. My mate. My Alpha. He strides into the hall with my sister cradled in his arms. Her neck bears his fresh scent mark. His mark. I watch as he presses a lingering kiss to her lips, his hands caressing her like a treasure. Their love is bold, shameless—an unspoken declaration to the entire pack. And only then do I learn the truth. While my son lay fighting for his life, waiting for his father’s touch, longing for his Alpha’s strength… my mate was deep in Rose Valley, tangled in passion with my own blood. I thought my heart had long since gone cold from his neglect, but at that moment, it shatters. I make my decision. I will leave this pack. Yet just as I turn to walk away, the mate who had only ever treated me with indifference suddenly drops to his knees. A broken sob rips from his throat. For the first time, my proud, untouchable Alpha weeps.

I've been mated to Alpha Alaric Goremane for five years, and I'm still a virgin. On the night he claims me, I stand before him, naked. With my heart pounding against my chest, I muster the courage to step forward and wrap my arms around him. But he pulls away, and then comes the words that lingered in my head for years like a devil's whisper. "I'm sorry, Kyna. I have severe germaphobia and can't handle physical intimacy. Please give me some time." In that moment, my heart plunges into the abyss. But when I see the torment in his eyes, I convince myself that he doesn't love me any less. He's just sick, and all I have to do is wait. So, I wait for five long years. On our fifth mating anniversary, I cross thousands of miles in a raging storm just to see the look of delight on his face when I surprise him. Sure enough, I see the warmth in his eyes and gentleness in his expression. But what a pity… it isn't for me. The Alpha, who claims to be an obsessive clean freak, is on one knee before his childhood sweetheart. He gently slips off her rain-soaked heels, dries her feet, and warms her cold toes with the heat of his palm. It's as if that's the most natural thing in the world, and as if his world holds no one else. He sighs. "Serene, how many times have I told you that you'll catch a cold? What would you do without me?" In that instant, the last of my delusions shatters. I finally realize that his germaphobia is selective, and I'm simply the one he can't bear to touch. Instead of making a fuss, I slip off the ring I've worn for five years and walk into the storm without looking back. Later, I hear he tries to win me back with the most expensive roses in the city. But the Kyna Lupen who loves him is long gone.

"Fuck me." He groaned. I hadn't taken a good look of the man I was in bed with. I opened my eyes a bit, and looked at him. I couldn't see his face, but he had black hair. "My name is Asher, and I'll make you scream it in different positions." His hand left my breast, into my vagina. "Asher…" I rubbed his head, holding him closer to me. I moaned loudly. I was enjoying every second of this. Amelia Brooks spent three years loving Damian. He spent those three years lying. At her own engagement party, he got down on one knee — and proposed to her younger sister instead. That night, humiliated and half-drunk, she stumbled into the wrong hotel room and into the arms of a stranger. Rough. Unforgettable. She left before sunrise, no regrets. She walked into a boardroom at the company her grandmother left her — and found him sitting. Asher Sinclair. Major shareholder. And Damian's uncle. The man who wrecked her body in the dark now holds her future in his hands. Desperate to fulfill her grandmother's secret marriage clause or lose everything, Amelia signs a contract that makes her his wife. No feelings allowed. But Damian isn't done with her. He wants her back. He shows up at her office with roses and lies, at every turn whispering that she was always his. And Asher? He watches. He waits. And one night, he reminds her exactly who she belongs to — not with words, but with his hands, his mouth, the way he says her name like a prayer and a warning all at once. Now Amelia is trapped between the ex who shattered her and husband who owns her.

My family auctioning me against my will was one thing. But being auctioned to him, the demigod Alpha, known for chaos and bloodshed, the cursed abomination, was the worst that could happen. I watched him kill men without mercy. I watched him claim me just to spite his brother and now, I'm trapped within his fortress as a slave. His slave. At first, I want to end it all before he does it for me, but on a second thought, I have to fight for my freedom. He swears he bought me to spite his brother and humiliate me. He swears that he despises me. My sin? Being born with the same hair as his mother. But then, the way he looks at me isn't the way you look at the enemy. The way he pins and touches me isn't the way you touch a slave. He buries his face in my neck and relaxes with my scent, claiming me in ways no master should claim a defiant captive. I'm supposed to hate him for being heartless, for being evil, for refusing to let me go, but somewhere in between, I don’t. It's hate and angst, yet every touch makes my heart betray me. He makes my heart beat in ways it shouldn't. A human and an Alpha? Unacceptable! In fact, forbidden in Dark Hound! It's in fact forbidden! But he's unhinged and doesn't care. It's all war and roses until I find out I'm the thing that could either destroy him—or break his curse. The devil they warned him about. TRIGGER WARNING: This story contains mature themes and explicit content intended for adult audiences (18+) readers discretion is advised For the girlies who love their MMC a little bit twisted, broken with redemption here and there.

The fearsome Romano family has made an announcement. Whoever among me and my sister, Vivienne Everhart, can give birth to the first grandson of the Romano bloodline shall inherit the Romanos' wealth that's worth tens of billions of dollars. Also, said grandson will be the next Don of the Romano family. In my previous life, Vivienne had married Dominic Romano, a healthy and strong young man of the Romano family. My parents were the one who had arranged for this marriage to happen. I, on the other hand, got married to Julian Romano, a gloomy man who was confined to his wheelchair due to his crippled legs. In less than a year after our marriage, Julian had regained his ability to walk once again. At the same time, I got pregnant with the first grandson of the Romano family. As such, Vivienne got abused by Dominic to the point that she completely lost her marbles. That was how she became the laughingstock of the rich socialites of the upper crust. On the day I was about to go into labor, Vivienne stabbed my belly with a blade. Then, she grabbed me before jumping off a tall building with me in her arms. When I open my eyes again, I see Vivienne snatching away the bouquet made of blue roses that's given to me by Julian. "I want to marry Julian!" "Vivienne, how could you snatch Isabella's bouquet away?" As soon as Vivienne receives the fancy blue rose bouquet, she freezes in place when she hears our father scolding her. After Dad grabs the bouquet from Vivienne's hands, he passes it to me before saying, "Isabella, you have a healthy body. Julian might be handicapped, but at least he's pretty talented when it comes to running his business." Then, he pats Vivienne on the head lovingly. "Vivienne, you're in poor health. Marrying Dominic is your best option." As I stare at the blue rose bouquet in my hands as well as the wedding gown I'm currently wearing, I dig my nails into my palm forcefully. Finally, I realize that I've gotten reborn.

Cecilia Laurent’s husband, Lyon Melville, was known across North Ameria’s underground circles as the biggest womanizer. As the current Don of the Melville family, the women who wanted to get close to him would line up from New Yorke to Rondon. He never turned anyone away from his bed. Cecilia had been married to Lyon for five years. The taunting messages and intimate photos from his mistresses were enough to fill the storage on three of her encrypted phones. Cecilia showed no mercy. After the photos of Lyon in the car with a model were made public, she had the sports car dismantled completely. When he went out to sea with an actress to watch fireworks, she had the yacht blown to nothing. She blacklisted every woman who tried to cling to him. She overturned tables at family banquets. She risked every bit of dignity she had as the Melville family’s Donna in the hope that he would come back to her. Lyon allowed it. He let the rumors spread without denying anything. For five years, Cecilia was the joke of the family and the entire underworld. When the New Year came around, Cecilia received her first “gift” of the year. It was an intimate photo of Lyon in bed with another woman. At nearly the same time, a headline broke across New Yorke’s social media and tabloids. [Don Melville Meets Superstar Gianna Moretti Late at Night.] Inside the banquet hall of the family estate, the band continued to play. The champagne tower reflected a cold light. Everyone was waiting for her to blow up. Her assistant expertly pulled up the PR department’s number and held the phone out to her. “Donna Melville, the PR team is waiting for your instructions. Do you want us to make this bigger, like last time?” Cecilia looked at the man in the photo. Ten minutes ago, he had held their daughter on the balcony and watched the fireworks together. She suddenly smiled. “Take it down,” she said. “I don’t want to see this on the front page in two hours.” Everyone in New Yorke knew that the Melville family’s Donna loved like a madwoman. She could lose her temper just as easily. But this time, she did not lose control. She wanted a divorce.