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Bound by Vows

Bound by Vows

A sharp pull by my wrist bought me back to the wall. I hold my breath for a moment. "what the hell" I cussed. "Shh, baby girl" he exclaimed. I cringed with the endearment he used. He brought his face near to my face. His breath is fanning all over my lips. It raised my heartbeat to a different level. It must be heard by him also. His smirk face saying it all. His eyes are gazing my lips and he started closing the small gap we have between our lips to be mingled into one. Sensing his intentions I closed my eyes & moved my face to the left. He stopped right away & increase the gap between us which I really appreciate but the hold of his hand on my wrist is very tight. It started paining me slowly. "Now listen to me very carefully, we might be lawfully wedded husband & wife. But you are nothing to me. I have only married you because of my doll" he said rudely to me. I forcefully release my hand from his hulk like grip which resulted into breaking my bangles & a piece of glass cut into my hand. It hurt me like hell. There must be a big cut in my hand. Ignoring the pain in my hand. I showed my other hand finger towards him and said "even I was not interested in this marriage. I am kind of forced into this" Which I am not, my subconscious mocked me. But I won’t give him that satisfaction. Although I was not forced but I had no other option than to accept this marriage. _______________________ This is the story of Payal Mehra and Kabir Khurana who are bound by vows in the sacred bond of marriage which was not in their to do list. But yet they are.
Romance
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Take Your Regrets to the Grave

Take Your Regrets to the Grave

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.
Short Story · Werewolf
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Unholy December

Unholy December

They called him Father. She called him forbidden. Ayana Marcus thought coming home for Christmas would be simple—a few weeks of family dinners, church services, and small-town nostalgia before returning to her real life in Boston. She didn't expect him. Father Nelson has been her father's best friend for two decades. A priest. A pillar of their tight-knit community. A man who's supposed to be untouchable, unshakeable, holy. But when Ayana returns after four years away—no longer the sheltered girl who left, but a woman who knows her own mind—everything changes. One look across her family's dinner table, and she sees it: the way his dark eyes linger a second too long, the tension in his jaw when she speaks, the white-knuckled grip on his glass when she laughs. Father Nelson isn't just her father's friend anymore. He's a man on the edge of breaking. One stolen kiss beneath the mistletoe shatters two decades of self-control. What begins as a single moment of weakness spirals into a secret affair that threatens to destroy everything—his priesthood, her family, their souls. He tells himself he's corrupting her. She knows she's awakening him. In the cold December nights, between whispered prayers and desperate touches, they discover that some sins taste like salvation. That the line between worship and desire is thinner than either imagined. That love—even forbidden, impossible, unholy love—can be the most sacred thing of all. But in a town where secrets don't stay buried and the church sees everything, their passion will cost them more than they ever imagined. He's twice her age. Her father's best friend. A man of God. She's everything he's denied himself for twenty years. And this December, they'll learn that some gifts are too dangerous to unwrap… But impossible to resist.
Romance
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My Mate's Mistress Regretted Stealing My Exclusive Ride

My Mate's Mistress Regretted Stealing My Exclusive Ride

I got a car straight from the Lycan Chairman himself—a ride costs more than tens of millions and can turn every traffic light green. I got it because the Lycan Chairman once fell on the battlefield, his heart torn open. And me? I'm the one bound to him by a blood-sealed contract, the only secret healer who could save his life. To win me golden hour for surgeries, I was awarded with such an honored ride. I treated it like sacred ground, kept it hidden in my mate Yorick's underground garage, polished and guarded, ready for the day the Lycan Chairman might need me again. That day came. The summons burned in my hand, urgent and sharp. I rushed to the garage, ready to drive, and the second I approached the garage, a strange woman slid into the back seat. "Take me to the Nighty Bar," she ordered, flipping her hair. "Yorick had waited for me minutes. If he's mad at me being late, I'll make you regret it." My hands froze on the wheel. "This is my car," I told her, calm but firm. "I have urgent business. You need to get out. Now." She sneered. "What a joke. A chauffeur pretending to be the owner? You must have a death wish." Her soldiers glanced at me sideways, voice dripping with disdain. "Everyone in the pack knows that this car is Alpha's exclusive for picking up Selene! You're just a little healer. Do yourself a favor and listen to her." Their words cut sharper than any blade. The car that carried the highest secret of the werewolf race, the car tied to the Chairman's very heartbeat, in their mouths, it was nothing more than a toy. A plaything my mate used to please another she-wolf. They wanted me to bow. To surrender. To sit there, silent, while they spat on me. But what they didn't know, the Lycan Chairman's soldiers were already on their way.
Short Story · Werewolf
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The Last White Wolf & Her Chosen Kings

The Last White Wolf & Her Chosen Kings

They abused her. Used her for their dirty work. Humiliated her publicly. Treated her like filth on their shoes. They called her an omega. A servant. A mistake. But the Moon never forgot her name. Daeira (Day-rah) *Dee* to her friends, doesn't remember the night her family was slaughtered. She doesn't know she's the last living heir of the Seralyn Pack, sacred white wolves descended from the Moon Goddess Selene. Blessed with lunar & healing magic, divine power, and moon fire in their blood. All she knows is cruelty, hunger, and survival in the most ruthless pack in existence. Raised by the wolves who killed her bloodline, Daeira has spent her life in the shadows, beaten, starved, silenced. She hides her strength. Hides her power. Hides the truth of what her wolf really is. Until the night she turns eighteen... and the Moon wakes her. Her wolf rises in a blaze of silver flame, and for the first time, Daeira sees what she really is, chosen, divine, and deadly. But when her fated mate, the Alpha's son, rejects her in front of the entire pack, everything shatters. She doesn't beg. She doesn't break. She runs. Because Daeira isn't the broken little thing they raised in a cage. She's the prophecy made flesh. And the world has no idea what's coming. An ancient evil is spreading through the wolf realm. The rift to the hell realm has cracked wide open. Demons walk the earth. Angels are falling from the skies to stop them. And Daeira? She's the only one who can close the breach. The wolves who cast her out are about to learn: The Moon doesn't bless without purpose. She sure as hell doesn't forgive. ✅ Reverse Harem/Dark Romance ✅ Rejected mate ✅ Dark Magic/Demons ✅ Hidden goddess bloodline
Werewolf
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Alpha Begged Me Back After I Left

Alpha Begged Me Back After I Left

My Alpha mate, Dominic, rules the entire Stormfang Pack, but in our ten years together, he has never once given me a gift. Even our bonding tokens—a pair of rare healing crystals that cost me an entire year's savings—were taken by him without hesitation. He claimed that as Alpha he needed to appear frugal and understated, which is why he marked me in secret without hosting a proper mating ceremony. Because of this, most pack members don't even know I'm his mate. Yet when Sylvia, his childhood sweetheart, returned to Stormfang territory, he publicly announced their mating plans. He even dipped into the pack's long-term savings to throw her an extravagant celebration. When my mother was attacked by rogue wolves and left critically wounded, I begged Dominic to return my healing crystals—the only things that could save her life. Instead of helping, he denied knowing me in front of the entire pack and ordered his guards to drive me away with burning torches. Later, my mother died during the Blood Moon Festival. I lost my only family during what should have been our most sacred celebration. I renounced my Stormfang membership that same night and accepted the Northern Shadow Pack's Chief Healer position. While packing my belongings, Dominic returned from his honeymoon with Sylvia. He found me and assumed I was merely sulking. For the first time ever, he made a generous offer: "Come on, what could possibly happen to your mother? At worst, I'll give you that fancy mating ceremony you've always wanted. That should satisfy her desire to be an Alpha's mother-in-law." What he didn't realize was that from the moment my mother died, I had already sworn to the Moon Goddess that our mate bond would be broken forever.
Short Story · Werewolf
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I Burned the Past, and He Burned for Me

I Burned the Past, and He Burned for Me

In his bid for perpetual life, the first Don of the Bryant family annihilates the witch clan and violently takes possession of their most sacred relic. In the moments before her death, the head of the witch clan places a curse on every descendant of the Bryant family. Every descendant will suffer a sudden mutation at the age of 23, where their bodies would be covered in thick, black hair, and fangs would sprout from their mouths, turning them into monsters. They can only lift the curse if they marry a descendant of the witches. Ella Crawford—my sister—and I are the last remaining descendants of the witch clan in the human realm. In my past life, Oliver's lottery selection fell on the attractive Ella. I was aware that Ella lacked the power to lift the curse, so I secretly swapped the lots, and Oliver ended up married to me. In the end, during our wedding night, Ella set herself alight, proclaiming that she had lost her eternal love and didn't want to face life without him. As a result, Mom and Dad drove me out. Oliver, however, took me in and showered me with affection. It wasn't long before I conceived his child, and he successfully survived his 23rd birthday. Yet, barely a day later, Oliver pushed me into the fire pit. I pleaded with tears streaming down my face, "I freed you from the curse and am currently carrying your baby, Oliver, so please don't treat me like this!" Oliver merely responded with a malicious grin as he tossed the torch aside. "If it weren't for your interference, Ella would have lifted the curse for me! I would have been able to spend the rest of my life with her, Cynthia!" In the end, I was completely consumed by the flames. I suddenly open my eyes and find myself returning to the day Oliver chooses his bride by lot. I immediately snap the tampered lot, as I'm eager to find out how Ella will save Oliver without any witch powers in this life.
Short Story · Mafia
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The Crulest Kind of Love

The Crulest Kind of Love

When Diana sacrificed everything to save the Silver Moon Pack, she never imagined that her mate, Alexander, would spend eight years punishing her for it. After losing their unborn child to a vicious attack from Alexander's lover, Diana begs for freedom from her loveless union. But dark secrets lie beneath the surface—secrets that could shatter both packs. The birth moon approaches, and Diana must decide whether to keep her promise of silence or finally break free from the Alpha who never wanted her. A tale of betrayal, sacrifice, and the thin line between love and hate. At the Silver Moon Pack's annual full moon ceremony, I was viciously shoved to the ground by Alexander's female companion, Selena. Wearing silver-tipped boots, she stepped directly onto my swollen belly. In an instant, bright red blood stained my white ceremonial dress. Alexander glanced at me with a slight frown. "Pregnant but not staying in the den to take care of yourself? Out here challenging pack hierarchy again? Trying to frame Selena, aren't you? The sacred ground is stained with your blood—so unlucky! What a disgrace to a Luna!" After saying this, he turned away without hesitation, wrapping his arm around Selena's waist as they left. Even the urgent howls of the pack healer didn't make him look back at me once. The bitter wolfsbane medicine churned inside my body, and in the end, the pup couldn't be saved. Clutching my now-empty belly, I had just come out of the healer's den when I saw Alexander on the pack's communication crystal, passionately marking Selena with his scent. A sharp pain shot through my abdomen, piercing straight into my heart. Wiping the cold sweat from my forehead, I looked at my mother-in-law standing by the healing bed. "Elder Mardanna, it's been eight moons. The Silver Moon Pack's crisis was resolved long ago. I really want to break the mate bond. Please, let me go..."
Short Story · Werewolf
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Mated to Brother’s Alpha Best Friend

Mated to Brother’s Alpha Best Friend

I'd had a crush on my brother's best friend, Ethan—the most powerful Alpha of our Northern Territory—since I was twelve years old. When I was fifteen, I boldly confessed my feelings to him. He laughed and patted my head, casually promising, "When you turn eighteen and shift, if you're my mate, I'll mark you." That offhand promise became my greatest hope for three years. I spent every day waiting for my wolf to awaken, praying to the Moon Goddess that she would designate us as mates. But on the night of my eighteenth birthday, after my wolf first awakened, I was shocked to discover that Ethan truly was my mate! Ignoring the intense shifting pain coursing through my body, I immediately shifted into my wolf form and ran toward Ethan's training grounds. I clutched the gift I'd prepared long ago, but instead heard Ethan urgently confessing to his Omega assistant Victoria: "Who would be stupid enough to actually care about a true mate? The bond between her and me is just the Moon Goddess's mistake. I only love you. I'll only mark you as my Luna." The words hit me like silver bullets to the chest. My wolf whimpered in pain, the mate bond burning like acid in my veins. I stood frozen behind the trees, watching the man I'd loved for six years dismiss our sacred connection as if it meant nothing. Later, Ethan introduced Victoria as his "fiancée." When Victoria demanded that I publicly bless their marking ceremony, Ethan remained completely indifferent to my humiliation. "Sylvia should give us her blessing," Victoria announced at the pack meeting, her voice sweet as poison. "After all, she's been like a little sister to Ethan all these years." Every wolf in the room could smell my distress. But Ethan said nothing, refusing to even look at me. When rogue wolves attacked our territory and I was surrounded, Ethan didn't hesitate to scoop up Victoria—who had only a tiny scratch on her finger—and carry her away to find the pack healer. He left me bleeding and alone, silver claws ha
Short Story · Werewolf
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