Wed Synonym

The beastfolk are a powerful race, and to strengthen our family's power, Father arranges marriages for both me and my stepsister, Arya Hearthguard. In our past lives, Arya entered a high-profile marriage into the wealthy, powerful dragon clan, while I was forced to wed into the crumbling lion clan. The clan leader of the dragons—Draken Vorgath—was cold and detached. He cared more for gold than his bride, leaving Arya in a glided cage of loneliness. Overwhelmed by the desolation, she seduced the future leader of the fox clan, who was flirtatious.. And when the scandal exploded, Draken resolutely divorced her. Arya's scandal brought shame upon our family. Despite Father's favoritism, he was compelled by family honor to exile her in disgrace. Clan leader of the lions and King of the Jungle—Kael Hawthorne—was a man of unwavering devotion. Our marriage blossomed, and within a year, I bore him a golden lion cub blessed with the Aetheric Divinity. With the Aetherborn, Kael rose to rule all beastfolk as the chieftain, and I became their most revered chieftess. Consumed by envy, Arya sneaked into my son's first birthday feast and strangled the golden lion cub in his cradle. Then, she set the place ablaze and burned me alive along with it. When I wake up, I am back on the very day of our marriage. This time, Arya volunteers to marry into the lions and leaves me the chance to marry into the dragons. I accept everything meekly with only a tenth of her dowry and marry Draken. Later, she bleeds her dowry dry, propping up the lion clan, only to fail in conceiving a cub. When the elders demand she mate with other males, regret drowns her. As for me, all I want in his new life is an heir and a quiet life among the dragons. But no one warns me about the dragons, least of all that my supposedly cold-hearted husband will relentlessly demand me once awakened. Or that his members came in pairs and ridges!

‌She was ne‌⁠ver meant‌ to be hi⁠‌s Arya V​itale, t​he da⁠ughter of​ his sw​o​r‍​n enem​y was supp​osed t‌o be a bar​g⁠aining⁠ chip A p‍awn i​n a bloo‍d w‌a‌r. But‌ from‌ the mome‍nt Giova​nni D‍e-Sa‌ntis laid ey‍es​ on her​, he didn’t see a p‌awn… h​e saw hi So he too‌k her S​t⁠o⁠le⁠ her from her wed​d‍ing, force​d her into⁠ a cont‍r‌act marr‍⁠iage⁠,⁠ and br‍an‍d‍ed her w⁠ith his n​ame in ever​y way th‌at m⁠attered‌ To t⁠he wo‌rld, i⁠t was a b⁠us‍in‍ess stra⁠​tegy to him,​ it was an obsession. But sh⁠‍e is‍n‌’t t‍he f⁠ragile pri‍nces⁠s h⁠e‌ expect​ed‌. She’‌s sma​rt, sha‍r​p, hot-head​ed⁠, sassy, and far too goo⁠d a‌t ma​king hi‍m fee‍l things​‍ he buried long​ ago And when she runs‍‍ away he h​unts h‌er Becau‌s​e Giovanni doesn’‍t​ lose ​Not h​is em‌pire N​ot‌ hi⁠s‌ war ‍And never t‌he wo​m⁠an h‌e​‍’s‌ marked​ as his own. But some war​s ca​n’t be w‍on with bullets⁠. Some secrets⁠ re⁠fuse to stay buried And the dead‌l‌iest betrayal may not come from his enemies at a​ll… What happens when the​ one thing he can’t cont‌rol is the only th‌ing that co‍uld destroy him‍? And​ a w​ar that demand‍s blood… ev‌en if i‌t’‍s hers⁠.⁠ ⁠

Sapphire’s greatest regret came from fucking a stranger she met, a stranger that went on to ruin her life.. But how could she hate him when he gave her three beautiful babies? Her babies must survive so she ran, hiding them from their father with everything she had. Damnation looms for the conqueror alpha king and he must chase after his runaway mate. Unaware of his three babies, he fights to claim her heart. She wlll not make it easy for him. She would bear a hundred whippings rather than be wed to that shameless old wolf that dared to covet someone younger than all of his daughters! She saw red and imagining his face, she threw the nearly empty bottle. The stranger moved so fast he grabbed it in his fist. She drooled at the sight of the most handsome, broad-shouldered stranger she ever saw in her life! When he changed direction,, she found herself rising to meet him. “I’ve never had a woman stone my face in our first meeting before.” . Even his voice was incredibly sexy. She giggled, staggering and he caught her. Their proximity thrilled her and when she stared up at him, she could swear his eyes were alive with lust as he stared at her lips. “I do other things other than stone faces. Want to go upstairs and find out?” She hit a sultry pose but suddenly staggered drunkenly. “You are drunk.” “Very. My clumsy fingers will need help getting out of this tight top. You’ll lend a hand won’t you?” She batted her lashes at him, surprised at her own provocativeness. . He smirked and pulled her in. “As you wish, my lady.” Even before they could get to the room, his taste was in her mouth and...

Aria was once a woman full of dreams. She didn’t know she was married to a nightmare. She wed Elliot—the struggling Alpha of the Crimson Claw, with no vows under the Moon Goddess or celebration. She brought a generous dowry and transformed their pack into the third-strongest in the Federation. But power breeds greed. And love… it was never truly hers. Discarded, framed, and betrayed by the very man she uplifted, Aria walks away from it all. She’s taking control, rewriting her story with every breath. This time, Aria isn’t just surviving. She’s reclaiming her destiny. Excerpt: “From the first moment I saw you, something inside me reacted," Mason muttered. He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “But you already have a mate—Elliot. That should’ve been the end of it." He stepped forward again. “I don’t know what’s happening to me… or to my wolf. But being near you—it feels like you’re my mate… even if you're not.” His voice cracked slightly. “It just keeps getting stronger every damn day. It’s driving me insane, Aria.” “Mason—” Aria whispered, unsure if she would stop him or beg to keep going. “Your scent is like a drug… your touch, it short-circuits everything. Logic. Control. My own damn rules,” he murmured, leaning his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry, Aria. But I can’t hold it back anymore. If you run, I’ll let you—but make no mistake, I will chase you. Because right now… I have to do this or I'll go crazy!” “I’m not running.” Mason froze, stunned by her answer. “Do you want this? Do you want me?” he asked. “You don’t have to ask for permission…” she whispered. “I want you… all of you.”

The day after my best friend, Sarah Blunt married Patrick, the second son of the Brosnan family, I too became a bride and wed Matthew, his older brother. She married a swimming champion, and I, the rock-climbing coach. We thought we had our futures all figured out. Then, something happened that summer. The four of us planned a getaway but Matthew and Patrick’s baby sister, Megan joined us and our peaceful trip became a crowded affair.  While rock climbing, disaster struck—the rope snapped, and all five of us plummeted into the river below. The brothers rushed frantically to save Megan, leaving Sarah and me at the mercy of the river’s current, battered and tossed like driftwood. By the time the rescue team pulled us from the water, we were bruised, scraped, and utterly spent. In the hospital, Megan and I received devastating news that would change everything.  “You’ve been pregnant for 40 days, Ma’am. How could you put yourself in such a risky situation? Your baby survived, but your friend lost hers.” Shaken, I called Matthew to tell him about the pregnancy. His anger cut through the line. “You’re angry that I went to Megs first and now you’re trying to fool me with a fake pregnancy? She’s my sister—it’s my duty to protect her!” Sarah faced her own storm. Patrick practically scoffed at her grief. “Miscarriage? Do you expect me to believe that? The doctors said you only had a 30% chance of conceiving. I can’t stand women who create drama out of nothing.” Both calls ended abruptly, leaving us stunned as we stared at each other in the sterile light of the hospital room. In that shared silence, we made our decision—we would leave these men behind and start anew, launching a business together. But when the brothers received our divorce papers, they showed up at my door in the middle of a storm, kneeling in the pouring rain, crying through the night for a second chance.