Silence Like Glass

Luke moved then. Fast. Too fast. One second he was across the room, the next he was in front of her, towering over her like a wall of heat and fury. His hands came up, gripping her arms not gently, not cruelly, but with a force that said he was one second from shattering. “You think I don’t fight for you every damn day?” His voice was low, dangerous, vibrating with something raw. “You think I don’t take bullets for you behind the scenes? Every single move I make is to keep you breathing, Abigail. So don’t you dare stand there and act like I’m doing nothing.” Her breath hitched, but the anger didn’t stop burning. “Then say it to her. Say it to their faces instead of hiding behind silence like a coward!” Something snapped in his eyes then something sharp and blazing. And before Abigail could blink, his mouth was on hers. The kiss wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t sweet. It was a collision hard, punishing, desperate. All the rage, the fear, the need that had been coiling between them exploded like fire. Abigail gasped against him, her hands going up to his chest, meaning to push him away except she didn’t. Just couldn’t. Because the second his tongue slid against hers, the second his body pressed flush against hers, every bone in her body melted. Luke growled low in his throat, a sound that made heat curl deep in her belly. He spun her, slamming her gently but firmly against the wall, his hands framing her face as he devoured her mouth like he’d been starving for years.

How quickly everything ended by just a single day, I was just like any other girl in the world- laughing and hanging out with friends, taking endless selfies, having crushes on bad boys and nerds included. I never thought or cared about how I look. It was just mine. Normal and Easy. But everything changed in one single moment- a moment filled with fire, screaming metal, and a blur of terror that rewrote my life. I survived. Everybody says I'm lucky but this, this doesn't feel like survival it feels like a punishment, a curse. A curse that am willing to carry all my life. The accident left me with permanent facial disfigurement, and ever since, I've been stuck behind a mask I never asked to wear. My face is the first thing anyone sees, and sometimes, it feels like the only thing they see. I avoid mirrors now. I no longer go out; I can't risk being stared at. Friends faded. Invitations stopped. Of course they would stop, who would want to invite the hideous me. I would scare everyone, worse, ruin their appetite. They would move away from their tables. What did I expect? Life moved on for everyone but me. My mom is the only person in my life right now, shes' become my anchor. Even with her love, it's still hard to silence the voices in my head, the ones saying I'm hideous, broken, unworthy. I miss my old smile. I still haven't done anything in life. And this isn't about my appearance it's about my self- esteem, my confidence, my ability to feel like I belong anywhere. This is a constant battle with the mirror, with the world, and with yourself. And most days, I'm trying to find the strength to look up to.

I wasn’t meant to survive. My sister killed me, and I should have stayed dead. Instead, I woke in Lenore, a nightmare kingdom built on blood and lies. Here, monsters wear human faces, and Hunters like me are forced into a system that counts every kill and punishes every weakness. They gave me a body that isn’t mine. A name that isn’t mine. A life I never chose. And now I can’t run. I can’t escape. I can only fight… and hunger. Because it isn’t just the monsters that consume me. It’s the men who circle too close. One forged from shadows, dangerous in his silence, the kind of man whose restraint makes me want to shatter it. The other drips temptation like poison, every word a sin, every touch a fire I shouldn’t survive, and yet I reach for him anyway. I shouldn’t need them. I shouldn’t crave them. But I do. God, I do. And while I’m torn between danger and desire, Lenore itself is tearing apart. The Houses want me erased. The monsters want my blood. And the truth of who I really am will destroy everything.

My mother-in-law, Kylie McGowan, told me that she wanted to experience the life of the younger crowd, so I took her to my husband Jerome Callen's newly opened upscale bar for a quiet drink. I had just ordered her a signature cocktail when a woman from the booth across the aisle sauntered over, wine glass in hand. Her eyes flicked over the menu on our table, and she laughed mockingly. "Seriously? You ordered the cheapest drink on the menu? Did you bring this old lady here just to enjoy the free AC? People like you should stay in the gutter. This place isn't meant for penniless people!" I rose to my feet, holding back my temper. "We're paying for our drinks here. What does our drink choice have to do with you?" But she suddenly snapped, grabbed a half-finished beer bottle off a nearby table, and swung it at my head. "My husband's the owner of this bar! I could smash your skull in and still afford the damages! Get out, you pauper! Don't be an eyesore here!" I wiped the liquor off my face as my entire body shook with anger. Then I turned away, started my livestream, and spoke directly to my followers. "Look here, everyone! I'm going live to catch a cheater. Let's go explore my husband's other home."

I had a dream that spoiled the whole book for me. It turned out I wasn't the main character, but the mean girl side character. My extremely obsessive brother, whom I wasn't even related to, was actually the main lead. I fell for the second lead and begged for his love, but he never wanted me. Instead, I kept hurting my brother, over and over. Later, my brother was saved by the heroine, and that was when I realized he was the one I truly loved. But by then, it was way too late. And just now, I had forced my brother to drink a glass of wine I'd slipped something into.

"I, Kashton Blackwood, Alpha of the Blood Moon Pack, reject you, Nora, as my mate and my Luna." Nora spent five years as a ghost in her own home. She was the "Replica Luna," the woman Kashton married only because his true love, Maeve, had vanished. She endured his cold stares, his late nights, and the crushing silence of a man who looked at her but saw a mistake. When Maeve returns, Kashton throws Nora out like yesterday’s trash, unaware that she is carrying the heirs he claimed he never wanted. Seven years later, Nora is no longer the girl who begs for crumbs of affection. She’s a woman under the protection of Deluca—a rival Alpha who treats her like a queen and loves her children as his own. But when a territorial dispute brings Kashton face-to-face with the woman he threw away, the obsession takes root. Kashton wants his wife back. He wants his children. And he’s willing to burn the world down to claim what he rejected. But Deluca has a message for him: "She was your mate by fate, but she’s mine by choice. And I don’t give back what I’ve taken."

“Reject me!” My voice is sharp, clear, and it cuts through the night like a blade. The entire pack freezes. Gasps ripple through the crowd. A stunned silence falls over the gathering, broken only by the crackling of the dying fire from the circus stage. Kane stiffens beside me. I don’t look at him. I can feel his anger, the sudden tension radiating from his body like a storm about to break. But I don’t back down. I lift my chin higher. “Reject me,” I say again, louder this time, making sure every single wolf in the pack hears me. Murmurs rise around us, whispers of disbelief. No one rejects an Alpha... Avery Lane, daughter of an Alpha gets kidnapped by her father's rival Alpha and she is forced to become his maid. A few days into staying there and working as his maiden, Avery turned eighteen and discovered that Her kidnapper, Alpha Kane was her mate and she immediately rejected him, not minding the repercussions. Alpha Kane has been on a search for his mate for so many years and when he finally found her, she rejected him and he vowed to make her regret her decisions.

They thought he was just another runaway. They never knew she was a storm waiting to rise. After the tragic death of her parents, Alex a girl mistaken for a boy all her life was one step away from being dumped into a foster home. But instead of surrendering to the system, she ran. That night on the streets, she didn’t find safety. She found the mafia. Dragged into the brutal underground world of Vegas, Alex was forced to train like a soldier, live like a ghost, and survive like a killer. No one ever questioned her identity not when she could fight better, bleed harder, and keep her mouth shut longer than anyone else. They called her a boy. She didn’t correct them. Not when being seen as male was the only thing keeping her alive. Sent to Base Two, the deadliest tier of training, Alex learned to fight, spy, kill and to hide her real self behind layers of silence, steel, and scars. Years later, she walks the streets of New York, not as the scared runaway girl from the past, but as The Rival. A faceless vigilante by night. A silent infiltrator by day. And a weapon forged for one purpose: revenge. Alex isn’t just hunting criminals. She’s chasing the truth behind her father’s deathand every masked figure connected to it. But the deeper she digs, the more twisted the game becomes. Hidden enemies, familiar faces, and a web of betrayal that leads right back to the organization that made her. How long can she keep the mask on... before her real identity shatters everything?

Manhattan was doing that thing again twinkling like it had all the answers, when really it just had expensive lighting. Alexander Knight leaned against the glass wall of his penthouse, seventy-five floors up, watching the city hum below him. Bourbon in one hand (mostly untouched), phone in the other. The merger docs stared back at him from the screen, but the part that actually kept him up at night wasn’t the billions on the line. It was the fine print from the Japanese investors: “Family stability preferred.” Translation: get a wife, look settled, or watch the whole deal slip away. He exhaled, fogging the window for a second before it cleared. His assistant had already sent over a neat little list of “suitable” women—discreet, polished, zero drama. Women who understood arrangements. He hadn’t even opened the attachments. Because something about the whole thing felt… hollow. His gaze drifted down, past the grid of lights, to the tiny café on the corner. Golden glow spilling onto the sidewalk, handwritten sign in the window: Local Artist Pop-Up – One Night Only. A woman stood in front of a canvas, head tilted, paint-smudged shirt slipping off one shoulder. She was talking to someone out of view, laughing softly, then stepped back to study her work like it had personally offended her. She glanced up—straight toward his building, straight at him somehow, even though there was no way she could see him up here. But for a split second, their eyes locked across the impossible distance. But right then, with the whole damn city glittering between them, he had this ridiculous, unshakable thought: She’s the one I’m going to ask. And hell help them both when she says yes.

To transfer my sister, Suri Voss, who was 13 years younger than I was, to a new school district, I took 7 days of annual leave and went back to my hometown. I pulled strings, delivered gifts, called in favors, and finally forced a spot for her in the best middle school in the city. At last, when I could pause long enough to catch my breath, I told Mom, who was heading out to buy groceries, that I wanted grilled pork ribs for dinner. Suri walked over with a cold expression, then threw a full glass of icy water straight onto my head and pointed at my face as she exploded. "You country leech, mooching off our family for years, eating our food and living in our house whenever you feel like it. I let all that slide. Now you want to steal my mom too? Do you have any shame at all?! "Listen carefully, Mom only has one child. She will only ever love me!" I stood there, stunned. Suri had no idea I was Mom’s biological daughter, too. All this time, she had treated me as some freeloading relative. I looked toward the doorway, where Mom was changing her shoes to go out. She seemed not to have heard a single word of Suri’s disrespect. She merely said casually, "Suri doesn’t like ribs. Let’s have grilled shrimp instead." She had forgotten that I’ve been severely allergic to seafood since childhood. I lowered my head and let out a quiet, self-mocking laugh. Unbeknownst to them, if I could secure Suri a place in that school, I could just as easily make sure she lost it.