The Wolf Without A Name Novels & Stories

The day Noelle Rutherford finds out she's pregnant, she braves the rain to go to a club that Chester Gray frequents. She stands outside a private room and pats her soaked hair dry with some tissues, wanting to surprise him when his get-together ends. Through the ajar door, she hears laughter. "Chester, your wedding to Noelle is in a week. Is your surprise for her ready?" "Of course," Chester says, his usually cool voice laced with tipsiness. "I'll make it a memory she'll never forget." Noelle pauses, and her lips curve upward in a sweet smile. Throughout her three years with Chester, he has truly cherished her like a treasure and loved her with all his heart. "Ha! Do you think she'll have a meltdown and lose her mind on the big day when she finds out I've been toying with her while pretending to be you this whole time?" Someone laughed. "She'd never in her wildest dreams imagine that Chester has an identical twin brother! When she finds out her boyfriend's brother has been playing her for three years…"

Aiden Althea, a half-vampire and werewolf, was raised to believe that the werewolves are responsible for the death of his parents. He loathes their race and would do anything to destroy their world. He goes on a killing spree, suppressing the werewolves at ease and satisfying his revenge for his parents. Aiden wipes half the race of the werewolves and would have wiped more if his fated mate was not the Luna of the Blood Moon Pack. What would he do when he discovers that his heart is in fact stronger his mind?

Anthony Vitale—my husband’s older brother—was found dead after a fall at one of the family’s private properties on Long Island. He died before the men around him could even call it an accident. My husband, Enzo Vitale, stepped in as head of the family. At the same time, the senior men of the family made the decision for him—Enzo would take responsibility for his brother’s widow. His mother, Donna Victoria Vitale—the one truly running things behind the scenes—made it clear in the study at the estate. “Sophia is alone now,” she said. “You take her in. First, to carry on your brother’s bloodline. Second, to keep her under this family’s protection. This is family law.You don’t get a say.” That night, Enzo held me close, his voice low and soothing. “Elena, I’ll give her one child. That’s it. Once she’s pregnant, I’m done with her. You’re the only one who matters to me.” I believed him. But things didn’t stay that way. At first, he spent one night a month with her. Then it turned into one night a month with me. That was when I knew—he wasn’t mine anymore. The day Sophia announced her pregnancy at the private medical office the Vitales used, Enzo slipped the Vitale heirloom onto her finger—a black onyx signet ring engraved with the Vitale crest. It was the same ring he gave me when we got engaged. And he did it in front of everyone. That was the moment I knew—it was time to walk away.

Maria Gemma Mendoza was no ordinary student. Brilliant, disciplined, and admired, she rose to become the student head of Amarillo University. Yet her world collapsed when whispers spread that her father, Edward Mendoza, had embezzled funds from a powerful corporation. The scandal stained her reputation, and the once-proud halls of Amarillo turned hostile, its pupils eager to tarnish her name. Fate intervened in the most unexpected way. In a chance encounter, Gemma discovered that her disgraced father was not only innocent but had once been the King’s closest confidant. Moved by loyalty and justice, the King vowed to help Gemma restore her father’s honor and reclaim all that had been unjustly taken. But his promise came with a condition: Gemma must serve as the personal maid to the chosen heir, Prince Augustus Cynfael Clemente—the enigmatic, unknown prince destined for the throne. To fulfill this pact, the King admitted Gemma into Borstal International School, an elite academy reserved exclusively for boys. Her arrival shocked the institution; she was the lone female among its ranks. Yet her presence in Prince Augustus’s life ignited fury rather than acceptance. To him, Gemma was an intrusion, a reminder of obligations he despised. He resolved to drive her away, believing cruelty and torment would be the surest weapons. But torment has a way of unraveling into something unexpected. Hatred gave way to reluctant care, and care began to stir emotions Augustus had long buried. As Gemma endured his wrath, she also awakened his heart. Their story became one of dangerous contradictions—of pain entwined with tenderness, of duty colliding with desire. Will Prince Augustus defy the King’s sacred decree for love? And when the moment comes, can Gemma say I do to a man who was never meant to be hers?

She moved from the big city to the werewolf infested mountains and discovered that she had wolf blood in her. Targeted to become a mate to a sexy, but overly possessive werewolf neighbor in this very surreal world that's run by them, she seeks the help of her vampire lover. Can he keep her safe? Filled with action, mystery, and mythical creatures, a Wolf Affair [Book one of the dark fantasy thriller romance, a Wolf Affair Trilogy] is sure to keep you turning pages.

On the day of Zephyr’s art exhibition, I saw people stand around a portrait of myself. My cheeks were flushed, and I was bare. My posture was the one we used in bed last week for fun. Zephyr even got the mole on my chest right. As people stared at me mockingly, I demanded, “Why did you do this to me?” He was unbothered. “It’s not as if I asked you to sleep with someone else.” But he did let people see how I looked when I was having an intimate moment with my own boyfriend! “It’s just a painting. Why are you being so petty?” I was stunned by the mockery in Zephyr’s gaze. Then, I called my assistant. “I’m attending the international art festival as the organizer.”

Ten years ago, the Harrington family went through a home invasion. My mother, a maid, shielded Liam with her life. Holding my hands tight, Liam promised, "Andrea, don't worry. I'll protect you forever." I believed him. Our bond grew naturally, and we had a beautiful daughter together. Then, she was diagnosed with leukemia. In her last days, all she wanted was to spend one birthday with her dad. I called him, desperate to make it happen. "Millie doesn't have much time left. All she wants is one birthday with you. Can you come?" His voice on the other end went icy. "Really? This your latest stunt? Using your dead mom wasn't enough, now it's our daughter for pity? Disgusting." I tried to deny it, but he cut me off. "Don't mess with her head. Learn from Vivian—she's got a real heart." That night, our daughter passed away. Later, Vivian posted on social media: [Finally taking that couples' trip someone promised me!] I didn't scream. I didn't cry. I just texted Liam: [We're done.]

I had been Joey Jensen's mate for six years when I was kidnapped by rogues while trying to protect him. After finally making my way back to the pack, I discovered he already had another she-wolf, Courtney Ogley, by his side. Worse, he even made my son, whom I had almost died giving birth to, call her "Mom". Heartbroken, I went to the Werewolf Council and demanded an explanation from Joey. Under pressure from the entire pack, Joey reluctantly exiled Courtney. But from that moment on, he blamed me for everything. He said it was my fault he lost his beloved, and that I had robbed our son of his mother. Even my own mother resented me, saying I had torn the family apart. Surrounded by coldness and endless accusations, I slowly slipped into despair. Later, when the pack declined and was overrun, I was captured and sentenced to be beheaded. Just as I prepared to face death calmly, Joey stepped forward and fought the wolves alone. I carried him on my back and escaped, but his injuries were too severe. He was already dying. With his last breath, he said, "Consider my life a repayment to you. If there's another life, please don't stand in the way of my happiness with Courtney." I agreed through tears. But in the end, I was beheaded anyway. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day I returned to the pack.

My health was not good, but I had always wanted a child. My husband, citing concern for my health, avoided intimacy with me for a year. Then I stumbled across his private messages with another woman. [You'll spend Valentine's Day with me, right? You're not going to touch her tonight, are you?] [You know I don't like doing it just to make babies. Got you some lingerie. Wear it for me tomorrow.] That ill-fitting lace lingerie he was talking about was on my body. I'd slipped it on while he was in the shower, thinking it was a Valentine's Day surprise from him. Turned out, he hadn't bought the wrong size. He had just sent it to the wrong address. I clicked on the woman's profile. Her latest video showed her at the beach, hand in hand with the person filming. I recognized her hand instantly. It belonged to my best friend.

I once dared to wish for a better life for myself. Now I'm just a fragile toy in the wolf's hands, with only a name and a blank slate for memories. He said that I had earned the right to live, but I knew that he needed something from me: something that I do not remember, but which gives me the right to write down my wolf laws.