The Lion Guard Never Roar Again Novels & Stories

Ivory Stone has tried and failed to seduce her stoic steward 999 times. She thinks that maybe Wilson Quill doesn't have a heart. Maybe he won't ever fall in love with anyone. But one day, she catches him pleasuring himself with a bracelet belonging to the fake heiress who stole her life.

Azalea Hart spent everything she had on taking care of her sick brother. No parents, no family, just a cruel stepsister who feeds her and bullies her every now and then. However, a light appeared at the end of her tunnel during one of he brother's sick days... "You're not almost dead... You're already dead!" Edwin Clark whispered eeriely as he sank his fangs into the nape of her neck. Azalea chocked, almost dying but his eyes had changed, filled with nothing but regret of.... What have I done? "You... You're my mate?" Fuck it! Azalea know nothing about mates. The burning pain has turned into horny sensation and the young virgin craves nothing.... But his touch. She touched him. He became obsessed.... No. Obsession is an understatement, he became mad. "My Mr Vampire, has gone mad, again" she would whisper anytime she met herself on his bed. But his appearance gradually becomes more than she anticipated.

Amara Lewis never believed marriage should be a business transaction—until desperation forced her into one. To save her mother’s life, Amara signs a one-year marriage contract with billionaire CEO Adrian Blackwood, a man who sees love as nothing more than a weakness. To him, marriage is a tool—nothing more than a means to secure his empire and silence his board of directors. Their agreement is simple: no love, no expectations, no emotions. But living under the same roof blurs the lines neither of them intended to cross. Behind Adrian’s cold exterior hides a man haunted by betrayal, while Amara’s quiet strength begins to crack the walls he built around his heart. When secrets from the past resurface and feelings grow impossible to deny, Amara must decide whether love born from a contract can ever be real—or if she was never meant to be more than the bride he never wanted.

My father was a highly respected criminal investigator, and my mother was the head of the ER, dedicated to saving lives. However, I was a regular at the local police station. I fought, caused trouble, and earned the title of “the most hopeless kid on the block.” The first time, I publicly insulted my newly transferred cousin at school. My father dragged me straight to the police station in front of everyone and had me locked up for a full day and night. The second time, I led a gang of thugs to block my cousin’s way home in an alley. My mother was so furious, she dumped me deep in the mountains, leaving me to be bullied by a lecherous bachelor. The third time, I stole a keepsake from my cousin and tossed it down a sewer. My father put the handcuffs on me himself and sent me straight to juvenile detention. Five years later, I became a key informant in an anti-fraud operation, helping the police crack a major nationwide case. The media rushed to report the story, and journalists packed my parents’ house to interview the “hero’s family.” However, my parents just scoffed over the phone. “Her? A hero? We will only believe she is changed for the better when she is dead.” So why was it that when they saw me lying in a pool of blood after shielding a hostage, they finally cried?

I was a rarity. A wolf born with two hearts. My parents paid a fortune to rogue healers to implant the second one when I was just an embryo. All because my sister, Cora, was born with a defective heart. They waited for me to grow up, just so I could give my second heart to her. Later, I met my mate, Alpha Rhys. He treated me so well. I really thought he was different from my parents. But the day Cora’s heart failed, my mate held my hand. His touch was terribly gentle. "Baby, just give Cora one heart. You have a spare, right?" He didn't know. I only had one heart left. I gave my spare to him years ago.

Chelsea married Russell for the sake of her dying mother. She needed money to pay the expensive medical bills. Russell never loved Chelsea and was only using her for his revenge on his family. However, he failed to notice that Chelsea was truly in love with him. Russell was surrounded by pretty ladies and never cared how Chelsea felt about it. Until one day, Chelsea asked for a divorce, because she felt depleted from this hopeless marriage. Russell then realized that he couldn't live without her and begged her to stay. But she said, "See you never, Mr. Murrillo."

Misty Lawrence has an ex-boyfriend whom she can't forget—Zach Sterling. Carter Flanagan has always hoped that he would one day replace Zach's place in Misty's heart. In the eighth year of his and Misty's marriage, he accidentally breaks a bowl that Zach randomly bought. Misty screeches, "Get the hell out of here! I don't want to see you anymore!" That's when Carter realizes he'll never win when it comes to Zach, especially since the latter is dead. This time, he prepares a divorce agreement and leaves after signing it. It's Misty's turn to panic…

This isn’t a book. It’s a violation. Of your rules. Of your morals. Of the last line between want and ruin. These aren’t stories. They’re commands. Each page is a filthy little dare to spread wider, moan louder, and let go of every ounce of control you thought you had. Because once you start reading? You don’t stop. You can’t stop. This is where innocence gets devoured by the mouths it was told to avoid. Where best friends’ daddies, strict professors, and stepbrothers with no self-control break all the rules in your head—and then break you. They’re not gentle. They’re not careful. They’re not here for love. They want your breath caught in your throat. Your thighs shaking from how much you need it. Your body betraying every thought that says “no.” They’ll pin you down with a stare. Fuck your mind until it spirals. Make you beg without even touching you. You’ll gag on the tension. Cry from the pressure. Climax from the ache of what you’re not supposed to want. So keep your fingers ready. Keep the lights low. And baby? Be warned: You’re gonna need a towel by the end. Because this book doesn’t just seduce you. It owns you. Read it loud. Feel it deeper. And don’t you dare pretend you didn’t love every depraved second of it.

On the day of the United Nations meeting, I noticed a new electronic watch on my wife’s wrist. She said it was a gift from her first love to monitor her health. It was a veiled jab, which implied I was not as thoughtful or caring as an outsider. Something felt off, so during her lunch break I secretly checked, and found a bugging device. I reported it immediately, using my official title to cover her wrongdoing. Her first love, however, was now wanted by the authorities. While fleeing, he tragically died in a car accident. My wife said coldly that it served him right, yet treated me with even more care and attention. However, she deliberately leaked my translation files at work, which resulted in me being accused of espionage and taken in for investigation. “Miles, that bug was clearly planted by you. You were jealous of Ash and wanted him dead!” “I truly regret giving up Ash to marry someone as malicious as you. You should go to hell and atone for him!” When I opened my eyes again, I was back there once again on the day her first love gave her that watch. I did not interfere this time. I simply signed my name on the divorce papers.

My father called me to his study to deliver an order. I, Victoria Castellano, was to take my illegitimate half-sister Isabella’s place, to marry the comatose heir of the rival Moretti family and secure a truce. I didn’t cry. I laid my kid gloves on his polished desk and made my three demands. Sever all ties. My mother’s entire legacy. And give my bodyguard, Nicholas, to Isabella. Everyone knew my obsession with him. I loved him until I overheard the truth. He was the hidden Rossi heir, undercover only to protect his precious Isabella. Every time he’d saved my life, he was just guarding his link to her. So I let him go. I won’t tell him I’m marrying someone else. And I’ll never tell him that three years ago, in Lake Tahoe’s freezing depths, the lips that breathed life back into a drowning man—the memory that haunts him—weren’t Isabella’s. They were mine.