Wicked Smile

My bones felt as if they were on fire, my body was burning, my throat hurts and my eyes felt as if it was about to be pulled out of my skull. I've never been this sick before in my life. Something was happening to me, I was sure of that. My teeth were clenched together and I was scared that I might not made it to the morning. *********************************************It all started in the year 1104, when Tiana Sargon betrayed our race. We were all cursed and we've been ruled by the wicked vampire king, Amara Conrad, who sees us as nothing but animals. Eight princesses had came and fought but they all losed to him. Now it's my turn, I am the last princess

My new dormmate thinks my boyfriend is a player and advises me to break up with him. After I politely reject her, she gets mad and complains about me online, saying I'm love-addled brain. Her video goes viral, and the online community calls me an ingrate who doesn't know what's good for me. When I see the smug smile on my dormmate's face, I slap her without even batting an eye. "Stop acting like you're a champion for feminism when all you can think of is making yourself seem better than other women!"

He watched her for a long moment, the anger in his eyes unmistakable. She imagined he was thinking of ways to punish her, but nothing prepared her for what he said next. "Strip." It was one word, but she doubted if she heard him correctly the first time, was he really going to punish her? "What… what was that?" She asked innocently. "Strip, Nancy." "I won't." "So you refuse me, I see." he said it lightly, the evil smile still playing on his lips. "That will not stop me from having you though" "You won't." She said firmly "Won't I?" She had expected to arouse his anger tonight, but nothing prepared her for the icy rage that contorted his features and the resentment and coldness in his eyes. "Has he touched you yet?" Derek asked suddenly, his eyes still hard on her and his look ever so cold. "Depends on the kind of touch you mean," She replied in a soft, tempting voice, "He has touched me in certain ways. But you are my husband and I should not be telling you that.” "No," he returned coldly. "We are just master and slave, nothing else links us.” ***** Forced to marry against their will, Nancy must not only prove to Derek Lincoln that she was never his lost betrothed, but she must also prove to the parents of his real betrothed that she is not their daughter. But when a man is this beautiful and yet so arrogant, God knows loving him could not be so difficult. Except he is strongly involved with his mistress, who would give anything to have him, even if it meant killing his present wife. But was he worth it? Nay. To him, she is just a personal whore.

Two months remained until debut evaluation night. Before our unit performance, our main dancer suddenly offered me her center position. I stared at her, confused, "The trainers always praise your stage presence. Why give up your spot?" "You... you deserve center more than I do." Her smile was painfully forced, and she was fidgeting with her practice clothes - obviously not saying what she really felt. Puzzled by her strange behavior, I asked, "Are my moves too big? Am I making it hard for you to perform?" She suddenly started shaking, looking at me with pure fear in her eyes. After what felt like forever, she finally choked out, "Please, just stop. I won't try to compete with you for center anymore!"

She was a kidnapped heiress, taken from her real family on purpose. He was a legendary tycoon, feared and admired across the business world. At a lavish party, she was set up by her adoptive mother—and unexpectedly became his cure. Months later, he received a mysterious package. Opening it, he was stunned to find... a mini version of himself. Furious, he roared: “Woman, you’d better pray I never find you!” Six years later, she returned, vowing to take revenge and reclaim her son. Armed with brilliance and unshakable resolve, she tore through scheming rivals, crushed manipulative socialites, and built her own empire along the way. But one day, the cold-blooded CEO cornered her against a wall: “We already have a child—give me the title of husband too.” She flashed a bewitching smile: “Sorry. The kid’s father? I’ve got someone else in mind.” Just then, three cheeky little munchkins popped out, grinning from ear to ear: “Daddy, give me a sister with Mommy, and she’s all yours!” In that moment, her mind went blank. Betrayed... by her own sons!

Dahlia Bernard gave Desmond Sterlings everything, love, loyalty, and a crown he never earned. She picked him from the slums, built him into a CEO, and handed him the keys to her empire. Love blinded her. Desmond repaid her by betraying her, stealing her company, sleeping with multiple women, and getting her own sister pregnant. A community dick, that's all he ever was. Now, Dahlia isn’t just broken. She’s angry. With Ronan Knight, Drawlwood's ruthless billionaire by her side, Dahlia is ready to reclaim everything that was once hers. And this time… mercy is off the table. ********** I was flung aside, my grip on Roselle slipping as I crashed into someone's arms, Ronan Knight. "Hold in your rage, Dahlia," Ronan's voice was calm. "There are better ways to make them pay. Don’t destroy yourself trying to hurt them. That's not how revenge works." I glanced down at my reddened knuckles. Tears blurring my vision. "Then tell me, Ronan… how do I hurt them?" I choked on my tears. "By becoming untouchable," he said softly. "Become more powerful, more successful. A version of Dahlia they could never break. And then… you make them kneel." He leaned in, a wicked promise in his eyes. "I'll help you rise again, Dahlia. And when you do… they'll beg at your feet."

On our tenth wedding anniversary, my husband, Jaxon Wilde, walks through the door with his hundredth new mistress. From my neck, he snaps the necklace that was once our token of love and fastens it around hers. Amid the guests' jeers and mocking laughter, the lady tugs timidly at my gown and murmurs, "Mr. Wilde wants me to wear this dress tonight, Scarlett." It was a dress altered from my wedding gown ten years ago, and I wore it tonight like a fool, hoping he might remember. But now, he wants to strip his wife bare in public and give it to his mistress on the wedding anniversary. Under the weight of everyone's sneers, I look up at him and give him a genuine smile for the first time in a decade. "Let's get divorced, Jaxon."

I am the sole heir to the Alpha King of Northaria, but I'm an Omega. All of Northaria awaits the day I come of age, hoping I'll awaken the kind of Alpha bloodline strong enough to claim the throne. But when the day finally comes, I'm still just a low-rank Omega. So, they say that the true heir must be one of the three "pledged Alphas" my father adopted from the major tribes. Whichever one of them marks me becomes the ruler of all Northaria packs. But none of them have ever truly looked at me. The one I like most is Quin Lawson. When I fainted on the snowy plains as a child, it was he who carried me back to the pack. I've tried countless times to get close to him, only to be met with nothing but cold, contemptuous stares. I used to think he was just emotionally distant—until the Moon Goddess Festival. That night, I saw him kneel before Silvia Anderson, the daughter of my father's second-in-command. His voice is soft, and his gaze is tender. "I'm marrying Evelyn only to repay the Alpha King's kindness. Once I get the inheritance, I'll make you my Luna. As long as she doesn't harm you, I'll even grant her a piece of land to live out her life in peace. You're my true mate." The night before the marking ceremony, my father asks me who I choose. I think of the way all three of the pledged Alphas look away whenever our eyes meet. I smile and say, "I'm the rightful heir of Northaria. My mate should be someone who brings the greatest strength to our pack. And so, I choose Alpha Heath of the Pyraxis pack." The air goes still. My father frowns. "Him? Are you sure? Every one of his mates has died under mysterious circumstances. His wolf is known to be vicious—no one dares get close to him. You truly want to be his mate?"

STORY IS CURRENTLY ON HOLD TO ENSURE BEST QUALITY OF CONTENT. "Are you a friend or foe?" I whispered as a strong sense of desire flared just by the mere heat I felt coming from his body. "Neither." He smirked devilishly. "My alliance lies with the highest bidder. They say kill, I say how much." "Then are you here to kill me?" I asked trying to remain rational as his intoxicating essence attacks all my senses. "Not in the literal sense." He whispers in my ear. "I plan to hog tie and f**k you til you think you've died and gone to heaven." "Is that a promise?" My core throbs as I imagine all the ways he could please me. "It is, and I always keep my promises." Since birth Amya's life was all planned out for her. Every step, every lesson, every day was spent preparing to be the bride of Vincent Miguel, the alpha of the Blue Moon pack. At least, that was the plan until Mykel Brady came crashing into her life. Now Amya finds herself oddly drawn to the wild and mysterious Mykel. This attraction leaves her rethinking her entire existence and desperately wanting to leave the mundane life she has always lived. Mykel, a wicked assassin whose alliance went with the highest bidder was hired to get rid of Amya, but little did he expect to find himself oddly attracted to her and her fierce and wild spirit. Not one to care for the rules or responsibilities, Mykel finds himself taking Amya away from the life she always knew and introducing her to his world. A world of kill or be killed and darkness. Will the two be able to defy all the odds for one another?

I stood in the shadows, the scent of pine and frost heavy in the air, watching my mate, Ethan, smile—truly smile—for the first time in years. But not at me. At her. My cousin, Isla. His first love. She sat beside him, warm and glowing, with our pups, Lucas and Mia, curled up against her like she was their real mother. They were laughing, sharing bites of ice-cream cake, the kind Lucas once said made his stomach hurt. I was never meant to be here. I wasn't his choice. He didn't fall in love with me—he was assigned to me. To him, our bond was never about love. It was a political arrangement—an alliance between two packs: his power, my father’s ambition. A tie forged not by hearts, but by bloodlines and borders. He never touched me unless required. He never looked at me like I was his Luna. In that moment, as their laughter echoed under the full moon, I felt the mate bond falter—thin, fading, like breath in winter. And I knew. I had played my part long enough. So I turned away. It was time to severe the bond that was never truly mine. But when he sensed I was really leaving, when the tether between us began to snap, he broke. Dropped to his knees, clutching the pups like lifelines, his voice raw. "Please," he whispered, "don't leave me." Even the pups cried, reaching for me with shaking hands. "Mom, we’re sorry… We didn't mean it. Please don't go."