Smoke Screen

Vaelora has always felt like something in her life doesn’t add up. The nightmares are getting worse—fire consuming everything she knows, shadows moving in the smoke, a voice calling her name from the flames. She tells herself it’s nothing. Just dreams. Until the night she meets the twin Alphas. Powerful. Controlled. Dangerous in ways that make her pulse flutter . The moment they meet, something shifts. The air thickens. The bond between them snaps tight like it’s been waiting. And whatever has been sleeping inside her begins to stir. The twins rule their pack with strength and precision, but even they weren’t prepared for her. For the way she unsettles them. For the heat that sparks when she’s near. Because Vaelora isn’t just another mate. She’s the center of something bigger. Older. Darker. As tensions rise and secrets surface, the line between fate and curse begins to blur. The fire in her dreams is no longer just a memory—it’s a warning. And when it finally ignites… No one will walk away unburned.

Ever since I tied the knot with Connor Steele, he ditched his playboy ways and cut off all his side flings. Everyone thought I had him wrapped around my finger, with our perfect little family. But that all came crashing down on our ninth anniversary when I accidentally saw his group chat with his friends. [Connor, how was that Bentley ride with Ashley yesterday? Pretty wild, huh?] [We tried every spot imaginable. She's totally obsessed with me and can't get enough.] There was a steamy photo of them attached, and the group was blowing up with cheers and congrats, wishing them happiness ever after. I stared at the screen, feeling a sharp stab of pain hit me right in the chest. It turned out that all our happy moments were just a carefully staged performance. I sat there in a daze all night, waiting for him to get home. When he finally walked in with a cake, I let out a cold laugh. "I know everything now. Aren't you sick of faking it?"

My husband had just ducked into the bathroom when his phone started ringing. I glanced at the screen and saw it was his brother calling. A frown creased my brow, but I answered anyway. "George, why haven't you sent the $10,000 to Mom and Dad this month?" Ross Serrano said. "Mom just asked me about it." I hung up without a word, but a rush of fury surged through me. My husband stood at the bathroom door, his hands still dripping wet. I forced a bitter smile. "You make $8,000 a month, right? $3,000 goes to the mortgage, $2,000 to me, and you pocket $1,000 for yourself. You told me you sent $2,000 to your parents, so how did that magically turn into $10,000?" His lips quivered, his face draining of color. My heart sank, and my hands trembled uncontrollably. We'd been married for five years, and I'd never once laid eyes on his bank card. What other secrets was he keeping from me?

On the day Zachary Lake stands at the pinnacle of global technology, accepting his award, I'm lying in a hospital bed, abandoned by doctors because I can't afford treatment for kidney failure. On TV, the host asks him to call the person he's most grateful for. Without hesitation, he dials my number. "Shannon, do you regret leaving me?" he asks. I clutch the astronomical medical bill in my hand, the paper crumpling beneath my fingers. Forcing a light tone, I reply, "Can you take me on as your kept woman now that you're a big deal?" On screen, his face remains expressionless as he hangs up without a word. Then, his cold voice pierces through the broadcast. "Now, I have nothing to feel grateful for." But what he doesn't know is that when he was on the brink of death years ago, I was the one who gave him my kidney.

Blurb “Her name is Mariana Fernando, boss,” he said calmly, dropping the phone onto the desk. Javier froze. The woman on the screen was the same one who had dared to seize his shipment. “Why hasn’t she been brought to me?” Javier demanded, his voice sharp. The man lowered his head. “Her father is General Fernando, sir. She is under his protection.” Javier’s lips curved into a dangerous smile. “Then I’ll take her myself.” Sworn to duty, Mariana Fernando, a three-star general in the army, was assigned to intercept a shipment belonging to the powerful Mafia empire known as the Crimson Brotherhood. Her success ignited tensions among the highest military ranks and shattered the fragile balance between power and control. But fate had other plans. When Javier, the feared leader of the Brotherhood, finally confronts her, he uncovers a truth far more dangerous than any war. The daughter of his father’s greatest enemy is his fated mate,a bond neither duty nor hatred can erase. And with that revelation begins a war that will shake “The Generals.”

On the day I was awarded the highest honor in the vampire world—the Order of the Night—I died. Three hours after my death,my parents, my brother, and my Consort had just finished celebrating my sister’s Nightfall Commencement. While my sister Olivia was posting warm, smiling family photos on the vampire social network,I was locked in the basement,dragging my tongue across my phone screen,desperately trying to make a call for help. The only person who answered was my Consort—Julian. He said only one thing: “Bella, stop acting. Olivia’s Nightfall Commencement is important. Stop throwing a tantrum.” That was the ninety-ninth time they had disappointed me.And the last. I lay in a pool of blood so dark it was nearly black,my breathing fading into nothing. They thought I was just sulking somewhere,hiding as usual. They believed that if they taught me a lesson,I would crawl back obediently, like I always did. But they didn’t know. I had never left the house. I was already dead.

Jason Trujilo employs Cara Thompson as a worker in his exclusive club in order to pay back the money her father owed. Once she paid off the debt, Jason tells Cara that she is free to go. Six months later, Cara is doing well for herself, until Jason comes crashing back into her life, demanding that she leave with him. Cara refuses to leave her new life, and Jason is hell bent on having Cara under his control. So how will this story end? ------------------------------------------------- SNEAK PEEK: Thirty minutes prior to lunchtime, Cara knocked on Jason's office, and after given permission, she entered the office with a stapled packet. Jason looked at Cara swiftly before focusing back on the blank screen of his laptop. She sat on one of the chairs, and stared at him from behind her glasses, waiting to be acknowledged. A princess she was, but Jason didn't care to be her knight in shining armor. No. He would rather be the villain who trapped her in a tower and punished her for being so innocent and yet spoiled and self-centered and confident.

By our sixth year of marriage, Derrick hadn't touched me in three months. Said he was swamped at work. Always tired. After everything, I still believed him. Then on my birthday, I caught his friend talking in Garmenian—a language Derrick didn't think I understood. "You cut off the side piece yet? You were with her nonstop. Surprised you didn't drop dead. Your wife cool with that?" Derrick let out a smoke ring. "Haven't touched Audrey in months. Sabrina's insane in bed—I'm not over her yet. Sucks she got pregnant. Audrey doesn't want kids, so I gave Sabrina some cash. She'll have the baby overseas." My hands curled into fists. Silent tears streamed down my face. He glanced over, nervous. "What's wrong?" I smiled. "The cake you made is amazing. I'm really touched." It was sweet—but when you understand Garmenian, all you taste is betrayal.

When I'm on my break, I decide to help my neighbor, Yvonne Cook, fix the gas valve, which has been leaking gas. But she instantly lodges a report, saying that I've gone against the rules. She demands compensation for the shock that she's suffered as well. I don't bother defending myself. Instead, I just write a reflection report. After that, my squad leader sentences me to disciplinary confinement. Yvonne wastes no time gloating in the tenants' group chat. "It's time to teach these power-abusers a good lesson, anyway!" Three days later, a fire breaks out in Yvonne's apartment. Thick plumes of dark smoke keep rising from the burning apartment. Yvonne wails as she bangs on my door and pleads with me. "Please crack open the door and put out the fire!" I can only sigh from behind my front door. "I'm under disciplinary suspension right now, so I can't break protocol. You should wait for the fire truck instead."

Because of a last-minute business trip, my husband missed the Thanksgiving family dinner. I spent the entire day helping out at my in-laws' place in the countryside with our five-year-old son, only to receive a complaint from the downstairs neighbor just before dinner. "Ari, could you please close your kitchen window when you're cooking? I can smell the hot sauce from all the way here. My husband has a lung condition—he can't handle it." My neighbor's words shocked me, and I immediately called my husband, who was allergic to chili peppers. "Honey, did someone break into the house? The neighbor said there was smoke coming from the kitchen." His breathing hitched for a second before he let out a casual laugh. "No break-in. My flight got canceled, so I was home alone cooking. When are you two coming back? I really miss you." I smiled and told him we'd stay a couple more days, but in the middle of the night, I packed up our son and drove straight home.