Six Of Crows Fanfic Novels & Stories

Emera Black the queen of dark magic. Age: 24 Time left to live: 3 months Mate status: unmated Wolf color: Black Wolf height: six foot. She is a women who has to prove her worth to the whole werewolf community just because they think females are the weak and what there are good for is to worship male wolves like Gods. Rain midnight the king of asshole sorry werewolves. Age: 30 Time left to live: 500years Mate status: unmated Wolf color: Gray Wolf height: six foot He is an Alpha who makes sure women duties doesn't exceed been in the pack kitchen and bed and those women who behave other wise are punished. What happens when this two Alpha's are paired together as mate. Now with time running out of Alpha black with only three months to live. she needs her mate love by mating and carrying his mark to survive or else the darkness clouding her body might be her end as well as it was her beginning . Now is she willing to sacrifice her powers to be an ordinary submissive she wolf just because she needs her mate love to survive or will she give up on him and embrace death with all her heart. ****************** "Why are you still standing here staring at me like a clown Emera? Do what I ask you to do, go to my room, spread your legs and wait for me on my bed. When I am done with these meeting that's meant for strong Alpha males like myself I will meet you ." An earth shaking growl sounded loud in the round the whole field causing terrifying shiver down everyone spine.

Arturo Abruzzi tore the world apart to find the woman that he loved, who mysteriously disappeared without a trace. Feeling empty without her. Cold. Numb. Hollow. Feeling like he was better off dead. Better off six feet under the ground. And there were times when he would provoke his assassin to pull the trigger. Wishing that his suffering would be put to an end. Asking God to drag him straight to hell. After all, hell was the resting place for criminals like him, wasn't it? The final destination for Mafia men? But years later, fate caused their paths to collide again. To cross again. Except this time, she was married to someone else...

Zachary Anderson, CEO and billionaire from the outside looks as though he has everything. A super model fiancés, money, and looks. One thing he hasn’t been able to achieve was happiness. An accident three years ago had him missing six months but nothing seemingly important happened and only deals with the slight headaches that came with it. Until he starts to remember. Remember a woman. A woman who saved his life. Evelyn Harris turned out to be far more than what he originally remembered. Can Zach keep his life together while dealing with this mystery woman? Or will everything he built over the last three years go down in flames?

"I'll make that arrogant mouth of yours suck my cock and teach you to politely say 'please' before begging me to fuck you." *** I used to be the princess of a mafia boss. My father was killed in an attack, and my uncle seized power. My mother and I were left in a dire situation. Six months later, my mother remarried the most powerful mafia boss on the East Coast. I never imagined I would have a stepbrother. When my mother told me he was charming, smart, and strong, I scoffed, because I despised all men—they were childish, rude, and boring. But the moment I saw my stepbrother, I regretted my thoughts.

My name is Cedric Bainbridge. For six years, I've been hiding the fact that I'm married to Beatrice Thorne, the CEO. Despite everything, she won't allow our son to call her "Mom". Once again, his birthday slips her mind. Her thoughts are entirely consumed by her male secretary. I've had enough. I sign the divorce papers and walk away with our child for good. For the first time, Beatrice, who is always so calm, completely loses control. She storms into my office, demanding to know where I've gone. But this time, neither my son nor I will ever look back.

One night in Vegas is all it takes for Madison and Ethan to tie the knot, after an unplanned night filled with fun and laughter; their whole life becomes entwined. Madison has no idea what she’s getting herself involved with but can Ethan say the same? Ethan’s mum comes up with the brilliant idea; they should fake their relationship for six months, enough for Ethan to get the reigns of Maverick enterprises while Madison gets paid to cater for hers and her mum’s medical fee. Will the world realize it’s all pretense? Will Ethan’s father and the board members see that they’re being played? Will it work out for both Ethan and Madison as they planned or will emotions get involved?

“We signed the divorce papers six months ago. Tonight I’m wearing the lingerie he bought me on our honeymoon…and I’m not leaving his penthouse until he remembers why he put a ring on it.” Lila Grant never begged,not when Ethan built his empire on her late-night sketches. Not when he shut her out with silence colder than the marble floors of their Manhattan tomb. Not when she scrawled her signature on the line that severed them. But six months of celibate nights and whiskey-soaked memories have carved her hollow. One look at him across a crowded gala with his new fiancée draped on his arm like a cheap trophy and something primal snaps inside her. She kisses him in front of the cameras. Claims the mouth that once whispered mine against her throat and then she issues the ultimatum that detonates their carefully buried war: Thirty nights. His Hamptons fortress. One bed. No safe words. No surrender. If either of them says the word divorce, the other walks away with everything,money, pride, the last shred of sanity. Ethan never lost until Lila walks back in wearing red silk and the scent of ruin. What begins as a vicious game of who-blinks-first spirals into something darker. Jealousy that tastes like blood on the tongue. Sex that leaves bruises shaped like vows. He wants to punish her for leaving. She wants to burn the memory of his touch out of her skin. Both get exactly what they came for,until the one thing neither planned explodes between them: She’s pregnant. And the man who swore he’d never beg is on his knees

For six years of marriage, Cyran Valehart and I lived with measured respect, as if we were partners holding the same scale in perfect balance. For the sake of my equestrian career, I refused to have children. He shouldered the gossip, endured the judgment, and stood beside me without hesitation. But when I rode into what should have been my final international competition, he went back home with his first love—her hand resting protectively over her swollen belly. "All these years, you chose the horses over me," he spat. "That damned competition meant more to you than our family ever did." His voice shook with righteous anger, but his next words cut far deeper. "Six years ago, I abandoned Celia once. Now she carries my child. I won't betray her again." In that instant, my marriage became nothing but a title. I was reduced to a wife in name only, a figurehead in his home, a shadow he no longer cared to see. During the very competition meant to crown my life's work, Cyran laced a sharp needle beneath my saddle, each stride of my horse a fresh stab of pain meant to break us both. I lost the match. My horse collapsed with a shattered leg. And in that fall, my dream and my marriage were crushed together—ruined by the very man who once swore to protect them. Later, he paid with everything he had, desperate to make amends. But no matter what he sacrificed, Cyran Valehart was already behind me, nothing more than a ghost I would never turn to face again.

The day Dad brought my ashes home, Mom, who had claimed for years to be suffering from severe postpartum depression, suddenly told the truth. "Actually, I made the illness up. "We were never short on money, either. My company took off years ago. You never had to work six jobs a day until you nearly collapsed." Dad froze, then looked up at her in disbelief. Mom went on nonchalantly as if she were discussing nothing important. "And that day on the highway, it wasn't because my depression flared up and I lost control, leaving Caleb at the rest stop by himself. "He was spoiled by you. He actually dared to talk back to Adrian, so I left him there on purpose to teach him a lesson." Dad's eyes grew redder and redder. After a long moment, he forced one question through his locked throat. "Why?" Mom gave a light laugh. At the red light, she reached over and touched his earlobe, as if she were talking about a tiny, harmless joke. "Because you kept using my love for you as an excuse to bully Adrian. It was just a small punishment. "Now the punishment is over. Daniel, you really have suffered these past six years. I'll make it up to you from now on. "What about Caleb? Children recover quickly. He should be better by now, right? Why didn't he come home with you?" Dad looked at her through tears. Two seconds later, he suddenly laughed. With trembling fingers, he patted the urn in his arms. "He's here."

Finish the mission, Seven, or we finish your sister." My handler's voice is static in my ear. Clinical. My sister's heartbeat still echoes from this morning's audio clip, steady, for now. Across the Volkov's gilded ballroom, my three targets watch me with possessive hunger. Alexei, whose brutal hands lift my chin like I'm something precious. Dimitri, who counts my lies like other men count coins. Nikolai, whose kindness is the most dangerous weapon of all, because it's the first thing that cracked my programming. I was engineered for this. Genetically modified to be immune to their mate bond, sculpted into the perfect weapon to destroy the most dangerous werewolf mafia family in Russia. Six months to make them love me. Six months to kill them. My immunity is failing. I feel it when Nikolai's touch doesn't repulse me. When Dimitri's suspicion feels like concern. When Alexei's cruelty looks more like pain. The bond I was supposed to fake is stitching itself into my bones, real and terrifying. Now my handlers want the kill. My sister's life for theirs. But the man who created me is their uncle. This isn't a mission, it's an eighty-year revenge, and I'm the blade he sharpened to cut his own bloodline. They think they've claimed their fated Luna. I'm carrying the knife that could end them. And I'm not sure which is sharper anymore:the silver in my sleeve, or the hope in my chest that maybe, just maybe, I could belong to them instead of my creators.