Silk Wings Novels & Stories

My sister and I slept for a thousand years. Tonight, we would Awaken. We would become true High-Bloods. Our Sire, Countess Lylandra, brought us two men. We had to choose a Blood Thrall. A cold, celibate priest. A young, harmless noble prince. In my past life, Lilith grabbed the prince by the neck and vanished into the shadows. She left me with the cold-hearted priest. The prince's blood was sweet, his soul pure. He was supposed to be the perfect sacrifice for the Awakening ritual. Lilith should have become a High-Blood without any trouble. But she fell for the prince's sweet words and gentle lies. She poured her ancient power into him. She forged a false blood bond to help him seize the throne. On his coronation day, he plunged a dagger dipped in blessed silver into her heart. With his own hands, he carved out her new Blood Core. He offered it to his werewolf allies. Lilith nearly turned to dust. And me? The priest helped me purify my blood. I broke the vampire curse. I no longer feared the sun or blessed silver. I became the legendary Daywalker Queen. Jealousy drove her mad. She used her last drop of power to unleash a kin-curse. It killed us both. Then I opened my eyes. I was back. Back to the night we chose our Blood Thralls. This time, Lilith chose differently. She wrapped herself around the priest, a vision of seduction. Her blood-red wings spread, ready to carry him away. My fangs slid from my gums. A choice? Why should I have to choose? The priest and the prince... Both are mine for the taking.

Maeve Sinclair learned the hard way that love can be the cruelest of prisons. After years of running from her traumatic past and the three men who never stopped loving her, she is kidnapped and wakes up tied up in a presidential suite on a luxurious cruise ship at sea. Her captors? The same ones she tried to forget: Zion Brooks — the famous singer with a seductive voice and explosive temper, who hides a dark side, part of the mafia underworld. Luka Rhodes — the brilliant music producer who hides a dangerous life in the Irish mafia alongside Declan Callahan. Elias Voss — the ex-military man and boxer, silent, lethal, and obsessively protective. Trapped together for seven nights in the middle of the Caribbean, the three are willing to do anything to break down the walls Maeve has built around her heart. They feed her, protect her, tease her… and tie her up when necessary. Because for them, Maeve had always belonged to them — from that unforgettable night on the beach, from the conception of Matthew, the eleven-year-old son she raised alone while hiding secrets capable of destroying them all. Between luxury, forbidden desire, and suffocating possessiveness, Maeve fights against her own body and against the unhealthy love she feels for them. But the more she resists, the closer the three get to truths she swore to take to the grave: the abuse from her father that still haunts her, the depression that almost destroyed her as a mother, and the paralyzing fear that her love is poison to everyone around her. On a cruise where there is no escape, Maeve discovers that the real prison was never the silk ropes… It was their love.

Six years ago, Dami’s life shattered in a single night. An accident stole her voice and her husband Axel walked away when she needed him the most. Heartbroken and alone, she disappeared from the world only to rise again under the ruthless wings of Lycan, a feared mafia lord who turned her pain into power. Now Dami is back wealthy, unrecognizable, and dangerous. When she discovers Axel’s company and home drowning in debt, she buys everything he once owned, determined to watch him break the way she did. But her plan twists into something darker when she invites Doman, Axel’s half brother and sworn enemy into her life. What she doesn’t know is that Doman isn’t just after Axel but he’s after her. And he isn’t working alone. Sophia, the girl Dami once called sister, has been feeding Doman information, plotting quietly from the shadows. Together, they unravel Dami’s empire, isolate her, and tighten a noose around her life until a cruel betrayal pushes her over the edge and steals something she can never get back. But in her darkest moment, the last man she ever expected returns to her side, Axel. As Doman’s cruelty intensifies and Sophia’s secrets explode into the open, Dami finds herself caught between the past that destroyed her and the man determined to save her. Old wounds reopen, buried feelings resurface. And when a forbidden kiss is caught on camera, war ignites. Now, Dami and Axel must face the enemies who hunted her, expose the conspiracy threatening to consume her, and decide whether their broken love is worth saving or destined to burn them both alive.

“I know you’re pregnant, Valentina. That’s why you have to die tonight. Two lives for the price of one. Efficiency was always my strong suit.” On her third wedding anniversary, Valentina is gifted a shallow grave. Her husband, Kennedy, was never a billionaire. He was a fraud who drugged her, watched her drown in a poisoned bath, and buried her so he could marry his mistress. He never expected the gardener to hesitate. Never imagined she would claw her way out of the mud, pregnant, broken, and alive. And he certainly didn’t expect her to return. Dragged from the storm by Ian Kingston, a titan so powerful Kennedy is nothing more than a disposable employee, Valentina finds herself mistaken for Misha, Ian’s vanished wife. “You have 365 days to prove you aren’t her, little bird. Until then, you wear my name, share my bed, and follow my rules.” Trapped in a ruthless case of mistaken identity, Valentina signs the contract and becomes Misha Kingston, cold, untouchable, wrapped in emerald silk and Ian’s dangerous protection. The next time Kennedy sees the wife he buried, she isn’t in a coffin. She’s on his boss’s arm. Wearing a crown. Looking down at him from a throne he can never touch. But Valentina hides a child conceived by her enemy… While being claimed by a king who refuses to let her go. He buried a wife. Now he’ll kneel before a goddess.

He stole the wrong girl. Or maybe… she chose the right king. Dante Valenti rules his empire with cold precision and a reputation soaked in blood. No one crosses him. No one deceives him. And no one escapes him. So when he kidnaps a woman from the Moretti estate—a trembling little princess meant to be leverage—he expects fear. Instead, the woman chained in his basement looks him dead in the eyes… and smiles. Aria Moretti has spent years hiding behind silk dresses and a porcelain mask, pretending to be the quiet, obedient daughter of the Moretti crime family. But beneath the pretty facade lies a secret no one suspects: She is the Moretti’s most lethal weapon. A phantom. A blade disguised as a flower. And she walked willingly into the lion’s den for one reason— to kill Dante Valenti. Her mission is simple: Get captured. Get close. Get his trust. End the king. But nothing about Dante is simple. The moment he discovers who she truly is, he doesn’t kill her. He claims her. "You came to kill me, little killer... but every king needs a queen.” Now, Aria is caught in a deadly dance between loyalty and desire, betrayal and obsession. Dante matches her darkness note for note—twisted, brilliant, and devastatingly irresistible. He should be her target. Instead, he’s becoming her temptation. And the deeper she falls, the clearer the truth becomes: She isn’t the only weapon in this war. Dante has claws of his own— and he’s willing to use every one of them to keep her.

My brother Christopher owned a boutique on Fifth Avenue. I'd gone in, picked out a few pieces, grabbed a silk scarf on the way, and was heading for the door. The clerk behind the register stopped me. "Ma'am, we'll need you to settle this now." I looked up. Her name tag said Yvonne. Unfamiliar face. Probably new. I didn't think much of it. "Just put it on the owner's account," I said politely. "He knows who I am." She gave a little snort through her nose, eyes raking from my hair down to my shoes. "We don't run accounts here. You might have the wrong store." She pushed an itemized bill across the counter. Four hundred thousand dollars. I scanned the line items. Personal Style Consultation. Premium Fitting Service. VIP Client Private Service. Every single charge cost more than the clothes themselves. I let out a short laugh. "I'm a Whitfield. Christopher's my brother. Whatever this is, he can deal with it at home." Her smile got uglier. "Anyone can claim to be a Whitfield, sweetheart. Are you trying to skip out on the bill, or are you just trying to embarrass yourself?" I didn't bother arguing. I pulled out my phone and texted Christopher: [Fire the clerk named Yvonne in the next ten minutes, or I pull every dollar I have in this store.]

She had nothing left to offer — except herself. Belcalis Voss never imagined she would stand on an auction stage, dressed in silk that felt like shame, waiting to be purchased by the highest bidder. But her younger sister is dying, the medical bills are climbing, and every other door has been slammed in her face. One night. One deal. One man. Charles Devereux is not just any Alpha. He is the Lycan King — ancient, ruthless, and feared across every pack on the continent. They say he hasn't taken a woman in decades. They say the last man who crossed him disappeared without a trace. They say he has no heart left to give. When his cold eyes land on Belcalis across the crowded auction hall, something shifts in the air. He doesn't just bid. He silences the room with a single number that nobody dares to match. She expected a monster. She didn't expect the way he looks at her — like she is the one thing he has been hunting for centuries and didn't know it. Their deal is simple: one year, no feelings, no questions. But nothing about Charles Devereux is simple. And nothing about the way Belcalis feels when his hands touch her skin is anything close to simple either. She sold herself to save her sister. She didn't know she was walking straight into the arms of her mate. Tags: Werewolf / Lycan King / Arranged / Fated Mates / Steamy / Strong Female Lead / Possessive Alpha / Secret Identity

In the elite, glass-walled towers of Upper Hill, Adrian Vale is a masterpiece of clinical perfection. A top-tier law student with a future mapped out by his tyrannical father, Adrian survives by the "Rule of Three": precision, discipline, and total emotional detachment. He believes that by controlling every second of his life, he can remain untouchable. Then comes Kai Reyes. A tattooed, underground muralist with silver in his lip and chaos in his veins, Kai is the living antithesis of everything Adrian stands for. When Kai publicly humiliates Adrian by smearing charcoal over his pristine silk tie, the "Ice King" snaps. Driven by a desperate need to re-establish dominance, Adrian offers a high-stakes wager: One week. Kai must move into Adrian’s minimalist apartment and obey his every command. As the doors lock, the psychological warfare begins. Adrian intends to use rigid discipline to crush Kai’s rebellion, but the forced proximity turns the apartment into a pressure cooker of forbidden desire. Kai isn’t just a subject; he is a mirror, reflecting the hollow ghost Adrian has become. When the rules finally shatter, Adrian is forced to confront the "Master" who truly pulls his strings—his father. To save himself, Adrian must trade his golden handcuffs for the raw, uncertain freedom of the streets. In a world of rigid statutes and vibrant paint, he discovers that power isn't about making someone stay—it's being the man they don't want to leave. "Be My Good Boy" is a gripping tale of control, surrender, and the courage to finally be a mess.

Just a moment ago, after nearly bleeding to death, I gave the Rossi family their heir. But my husband, Carter, the Rossi's underboss, let his confidante, Sofia, film me giving birth just because she said she was bored. She captured everything: me losing control of my body, my screams, my face twisted in agony. Afterward, she took screenshots, turned them into memes, and passed them around a private group chat for the family's inner circle. Through the door of my hospital room, I could hear Sofia's wild laughter. "Carter, this is the best entertainment all year. You always know just what I want." "But Sloane's going to throw a fit when she wakes up and sees it." The anesthesia hadn't worn off yet. My eyelids were heavy, and through the haze, I heard Carter's usual, nonchalant tone. "She won't get really mad. You know Sloane. She always does what I tell her." "I'll just have to sweet-talk her a little. Besides, with the heir here now, she wouldn't leave me." My fingers, hidden beneath the silk sheets, clenched into a fist. My mind flooded with everything I had given up for him over the years. Carter had probably forgotten who made him the man who runs these streets. Since you love games so much, I'll play a real one with you. The day I walk away, you will all regret it.

“If you leave this palace tonight, you become prey” Lyra Vale got rejected by her fated mate like yesterday’s trash, hauled into enemy land, and turned into the single most lethal prize a blood-soaked kingdom has ever drooled over. In Dravenhold they don’t chain prisoners. They drape them in silk that costs more than most packs see in a lifetime and call them queen. Kael Draven, the Enemy King, had every reason to slit her throat the second she hit his dirt. Instead he put his mouth to her ear and claimed her protection. Claimed her. Now the whole damn continent whispers the same filthy truth: her blood can make kings. Or drown them. The past won’t stay buried. Rowan, the Alpha who ripped her heart out to “save his people,” creeps back through the shadows with one desperate, cocky demand: come back to me. Stay here and she becomes Kael’s living blade, soaked in power and whatever else he decides to take from her body. Leave, and she lights the match that turns every pack into smoking graves. One man wants her soul to rule with. The other already shattered it and still thinks he deserves the pieces. Lyra’s done being the girl who waits to be chosen. In a world where power gets ripped out of throats, not politely handed over… she isn’t prey anymore. She’s the f*cking throne. And she’s deciding who bleeds for the right to sit on it.