Siobal D Novels & Stories

I'm the Whitefang Pack Alpha's daughter. Thanks to Samzor—Alpha of Nightfang and my so-called betrothed—I got shoved into a mate bond with a limp rogue. He sold out three generations of Nightfang war honors just to make it happen. Dad lost it. He went straight to Nightfang territory, demanding answers. Samzor? He laughed. "Alpha Connor, come on. Nyara's your heir. You'd never let her actually mate a cripple. "I've loved her for seven years. I'd never mistreat her. I just need her to compromise—let Catherine stay with me. "Don't stress. Catherine's obedient. Polite. She'll make a good servant for Nyara." Catherine. A fox-wolf halfblood he dragged in from a border patrol. Scared I'd kick her out the second our bond was sealed, he cooked up this garbage plan to trap me. Only problem? The Alpha King's decree doesn't do take-backs. Mom handled the dowry. I'd go through with the ceremony. Bond to that rogue. After that? Samzor was dead to me.

⚠️Book Contains Explicit Content🔞 Gage didn’t make a habit of denying himself anything. If he wanted something… anything, he’d claw his way to get it, consequences be damned. But her? Thea? She was the only goddamn exception. Off-limits. Untouchable. A tempting little toy he had no right to shatter, yet that only made him itch to wrap his hands around her and play until she begged. For months, he’d fought the urge, keeping his distance but fate, the-smug-bastard, threw her to him and he, being the despicable-asshole he was, couldn’t say no. She’d walked into his life on his son’s arm, but that wasn’t an issue. Because he’d take her anyway. Steal her. Ruin her for anyone else. And keep her pinned beneath him for as long as it took to satisfy the hunger that’d been gnawing at him for months.  THEA ~ I kept hoping my boyfriend would look at me. Just once. Just enough to feel like I still mattered. But he never did. So I went looking for attention elsewhere… and somehow, “elsewhere” turned out to be his father. Gage. The man I should’ve stayed the hell away from. Gage wasn’t gentle, and he sure wasn’t safe, but he saw me and looked at me the way his son never did. And the moment I stepped toward him instead of away, I knew I’d crossed a line I couldn’t come back from. It was wrong. Forbidden. A disaster begging to happen. And yet… standing there in front of him, lonely and stupidly hopeful, I lean into the warmth he gave so easily, the attention he offered like it cost him nothing. I should’ve walked away. But I didn’t. And neither did he.

They were both engaged to marry their lovers. They were both betrayed and vowed never to love again. But fate had other plans for them. You'd think they'd meet but what do the rich and the poor have in common? And what happens when their past never really leaves them alone? You wouldn't know until you've read The Billionaire She Hates.

After escaping her adoptive father's creditor, the infamous Sebastian Bernadotte, Isabel Hadid opted to be a surrogate mother to an anonymous billionaire in desperate need of an heir, just to pay up the debt. She conceived a pair of triplets and upon delivery, she maneuvered her way to have one of the children for herself, breaching the contract she'd signed. Eight years later, Isabel has created a new identity for herself and her son, Reynolds. However, fate had other plans for her, when her path crossed with Sebastian Bernadotte again, and she discovered that he was the anonymous billionaire whose son she'd stolen. Seeing the striking resemblance between her son and the sons he'd left at home, Sebastian needed no Sherlock Holmes to deduce Isabel's foul play. "Woman, you've breached our contract by taking my son and now, you'll pay. Either I take back my son and have you pay for infringement, or you accept to be my mistress." Isabel was stuck between losing her son or becoming the mistress of the man she'd once despised.

Cassandra Salvatore never thought herself to be interested in the world of BDSM. She'd heard of it, of course. She'd also seen it in shows, but just didn't find an interest in it. Not until her friend, Jules, drags her to a BDSM club for just one night. There, she encounters the owner of the club, who happens to be a master and is searching for a slave. Will she become his sex slave, despite arguing that she's just a submissive and would be so for just one night? How about when she goes for her interview and realizes there are two of them? The Valentino twins. "You'll refill the forms." He stepped closer to me. "And if I find out you lied about your answers previously, I'll punish the fuck out of you." I didn't know whether to take it as a threat or a promise. On one hand, I was scared because I knew just how brutal his punishments were. On the other hand, I was anticipating it because I'd retake the test and he'd find out that I lied about a lot of things I thought was embarrassing. BOOK ONE IN THE VALENTINO SERIES

By the time I hit twenty without a husband, I'd become the joke of Butcher's Alley. I wasn't about to just take it, so I marched out to the pauper's graveyard and dragged home a half-dead man I found there. He was gorgeous. More handsome than any portrait I'd ever seen. It didn't matter that he'd lost his memory and wasn't quite right in the head. It didn't matter that he couldn't lift a crate or carry a load, that he nearly fainted dead away the first time he watched me slaughter a pig. I slapped my knee and made up my mind. "You're the one. You handle looking pretty, and I'll handle bringing home the bacon." I named him Walt and treated him like he was made of glass. I fed him well, kept him comfortable, and slowly nursed him back to health until his cheeks were full and his skin was soft. Then I started planning the wedding. On our wedding night, I'd just gotten his wedding coat off when the front door flew off its hinges. Hundreds of royal guards dropped to their knees all at once, their voices shaking the walls. "Welcome back to the capital, Grand Chancellor!" I looked down at the man beneath me. The warmth in his eyes was gone, replaced by something cold and sharp. The belt I'd been holding snapped right in two. I was done for. I'd been bossing around the most powerful man in the empire for six months and using him as a house husband. Was I looking at death by slow torture, or would they wipe out my entire family?

I'd been bonded to my mate, Brandon Blackstone, the Alpha heir of the Blackstone pack, for three years. But I'd never been allowed to attend his family dinners. Every full moon, I could only stay home alone. Brandon said it was a centuries-old tradition of the Blackstone pack. Only after passing a long probationary period, proving absolute loyalty to the pack and one's mate, would someone be allowed to attend the Alpha's family dinners. I'd believed him for three whole years. But now, I'd found three photos in his car. In the background, I could see a long table laden with a variety of fruits and delectable dishes. The Alpha and Luna raised their glasses beside the statue of the Moon Goddess, standing quietly to the side. And beside Brandon stood a beautiful she-wolf. Moonlight spilled down, and I could clearly see how close they were standing, their fingers tightly interlaced. That was when I finally understood. Not being allowed to attend the dinners was never about some probationary period. It was because Brandon, or rather the entire Blackstone pack, believed that the person qualified to stand beside the future Alpha would never be me.

The healer told me I had Soul Decay Syndrome. In three days, I'd be dead. The only thing that could save me was water from the Sacred Spring. But my Alpha mate, Vincent, gave it to my adopted sister, Fiona. So, during the final 72 hours of my life, I gave up everything. When I handed Fiona the perfume formulas I'd spent years developing, my parents smiled in satisfaction. When I gave up the couples' vacation package I'd won and let Vincent take Fiona to see the Northern Lights instead, he praised me for finally being mature. When I taught my daughter to call Fiona "Mom", she didn't hesitate. She turned to me without a second thought and called me "Aunt." To my family, all my sacrifices were only natural. "Fiona is a frail human. Her lifespan is much shorter." "We'll love you properly later. We'll make it up to you." I let out a mocking laugh. There was no later for me. I'd never live long enough to receive their love. And after I died, they lost their minds with regret.

Joel Gleason, my childhood sweetheart and fiancé, promised he'd marry no one but me. But then, to help Jenny Swisher, my adoptive sister, get through her depression, he secretly married her. I didn't hesitate for a second before agreeing to marry Conrad Lennon, Jasselton's most untouchable heir, who'd been in love with me for years. After seven years of marriage, he still spoiled me rotten. He clung to me every night like he couldn't get enough. And there was nothing he wouldn't do for me. I really thought I'd found happiness at last. But one day, after we'd slept together, I heard him talking to his best friend. "Jenny's an international best actress now. When are you dumping Jean?" "It doesn't matter. I wouldn't end up with the person I love either way. Besides, I have to keep an eye on Jean. I can't let her ruin all the happiness Jenny worked so hard for." I booted up the computer in Conrad's study and stumbled upon a hidden folder. Inside were over 100,000 photos of Jenny, plus 100 unsent love letters. I'd been fooling myself long enough. It was time to wake up. I got myself a fake body and got ready to start a fire. That was it. Conrad and I were done for good.

Seavora City, Carmoria. Nathan Ziegler's side chick, Sophie, was melting down—again. He shoved the divorce papers at me. "Just sign. It's for show. Gotta keep her calm." I clutched my dress, gave a small nod, and signed. No fuss. No scene. As I turned to leave, one of his buddies snorted, "Joelle's way too obedient. Bet she'd fetch the divorce decree if you asked." Nathan lit a cigarette, smirking. "Wanna bet?" To them, I was still the silent pushover. The girl who'd cry in court but still do what she's told. Trade one paper for another—marriage for divorce. I stared at my phone. The message I'd received earlier: [Why don't you just marry me?] I typed back: [Okay.]