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Five years after I rejected my mate, Shawn, he had become the Lycan King — and most importantly, he now had a beautiful mate. During the Werewolf Alumni Reunion, someone suddenly brought me up. “What’s Kendra been busy with? She hasn’t shown up at a single reunion in years.” Someone sneered. “She’s too busy seducing alphas from other packs — on airplanes.” “On airplanes?” “Yeah. She’s a werewolf flight attendant with FullMoon Airways. They cater to alphas and lunas from all kinds of packs. I’ve seen her on board before. You wouldn’t believe how flattering she acts around those prestigious wolves.” “Really? Kendra’s a werewolf attendant? No surprise — she’s always dreamed of being claimed by some single alpha.” Hearing that, Shawn, sitting at the center of the table, flinched slightly. His fists tightened. “A werewolf attendant?” he murmured. “Yeah, Shawn... but haven’t you gotten over her by now? It’s been years.” He froze for a second, then quickly composed himself and held his mate’s hand beside him. Everyone’s attention turned to the flickering moonstone ring on her finger. “I’ve long forgotten her,” he said flatly. “Come to my bonding ceremony next month. There will be a sacred ritual at the temple.” “Wow...” Applause filled the hall. But only I, whose soul had been drifting in the air all along, slowly lowered my head upon hearing the news.

She was reborn soft, sweet, and touched — surrounded by women who never learned to let go. Evangeline “Eva” Claire Maxwell — Lioré was once a brilliant, overworked woman from a cold, futuristic world. When exhaustion finally claimed her, she didn’t expect to wake up as a baby in the arms of luxury — a second chance in a modern world where time moved slower, kisses came warmer, and desire wore velvet gloves. In a world without magic, desire is its own spell. And love? It’s the most dangerous kind of possession.

-Attention Mature Content 18+ Only- Did Someone Say Taboo? is a collection of erotic short stories that are sure to get you all hot and stuff! Each story will take you through one of many different forbidden, taboo fantasies! These stories will awaken your own dark desires! Once you start, you won't want to stop! Check it out now!

Everyone knows I'm Brooke River's bootlicker—I've stuck by her side for the past ten years. Now, she's getting engaged to someone else, and everyone's waiting to see me make a fool of myself. The problem is… I already got married three years ago.

My husband, Jaxon Murray, was a renowned medical expert and owned a big company. He was participating in a clinical drug trial when someone tampered with his medication. Under the influence, he ended up entangled with an intern—ninety-nine times, right there on the lab table. When he regained clarity, he rushed home, locked himself in the bathroom, and submerged himself in the tub without food or water as he waited for me to return from work. "Lauren," he said, "my medication was switched during the trial. I made a terrible mistake. But I paid her off and had her dismissed. She'll never appear before me again." I wept miserably, clutching my belly that had once again failed to carry life. And in the end, I chose to forgive him. Several months later, he crashed into a guardrail while answering a phone call, causing me to miscarry. The injury left me unable to conceive for life. He buried his face in the crook of my neck, his voice choked with remorse. "Darling, I don't deserve you. I'm so sorry… We don't need children. We have each other, isn't that enough?" One day, I went to bring him lunch, only to find him in the next hospital room, cradling and feeding the woman he swore he'd never see again. "She's too weak to eat by herself," he said. "She has early-stage stomach cancer. There's no one else to take care of her… she's all alone." I chose to believe him. Again. Until one day, a pair of twins appeared in our home. Sophie Dixon knelt before me, wearing the postpartum gown he had once lovingly picked out for me, clutching my hand with tears streaming down her face. "It's all my fault. Please don't blame Jaxon. If you say the word, I'll leave with the children immediately." Jaxon grabbed my other hand, desperation thick in his voice. "Lauren, you've always been the kindest person I know. The children are still so young. How could Sophie possibly raise them alone? You wouldn't be that cruel… would you?" I looked down at the hands gripping mine from both sides, and suddenly, I laughed. "Jaxon, let's get a divorce. I wish you both a lifetime of happiness."

"Please reject me as your mate and let me go, Alpha Max! I know you have a lover, Lady Jessica, and live a happy life with her. Please just let me go.” I closed my eyes and begged hoping he'd at least listen but instead, I heard a little thud a few inches away from my face and I opened my eyes to see a file. "Wh- What is this, Alpha?" I stammered my voice barely above a whisper. "Open it!” he cold voice scared me and I took the file lying inches away from me. As I brought it closer and read it, the letters written on the first page sent shivers down my spine. "Contract Marriage? Wh...What is this?"

I came back to life. The first thing I did was sever the Mate Bond with Alpha Asher. At his coronation. In front of thousands. Last lifetime, he publicly accused me of impersonating his mate in front of everyone, saying I didn't carry a Mate's sweetness but reeked of Wolfsbane that made him sick. For Elena, his first love, he sent me to the black market where they stripped away my wolf. Without my wolf, I died in a rogue attack shortly after. This lifetime, when he furrows his brow and tells me to get out of his sight, I don't shed a single tear. I just turn and leave. He says my existence makes Elena unhappy, so I move to the border cottage. He says he doesn't want to live in the same Pack with me, so I submit my transfer application. I thrive in the neighboring Pack and meet a powerful wolf with a hidden identity. When we appear hand-in-hand at the Northern Alliance Summit, Alpha Asher loses control. He catches my scent,another male's mark on my skin,and his sanity shatters. He blocks my path, a low growl rumbling from his chest. "Wash that male's scent off you, Rhea." "Weren't you disgusted by me?" I smile and step back. "Now I belong to someone else, and suddenly I smell good to you?"

In the fifth year after migrating to a new country, my wife, Nyra Sinclair, brings her first love, Jacob Griffin, and his daughter, Zoe Griffin, home with her. "Jacob and Zoe are new to this country, so they shall be staying with us for the time being." I get into a huge fight over this matter with Nyra. On my birthday, Nyra hands me a divorce agreement. She urges, "Hurry up and sign it. Jacob needs a green card. We'll have to go through a fake divorce first." With a frown on my face, I try to pry for more details from Nyra, only to get accused that I don't have any sympathy for Jacob at all. A short while later, I see Jacob's latest post on Instagram. "Nyra is getting a divorce for my and Zoe's sake! We finally have a place to call home!" I just leave a like there quietly. After leaving my signature on the divorce agreement, I lodge a request to my company so that I can fly back to my home country, Myrthia.

The night before graduation, my best friend Sophie talked me into confessing to Lucas Sterling, the boy I'd secretly loved for three years. She said Lucas was at the basketball court, wearing a white T-shirt. I gathered every ounce of courage I had, grabbed the bouquet of roses, and rushed over. I came up behind a boy and covered his eyes with my hands. "Lucas, I've liked you for so long!" I felt his body go rigid. He turned around — and the face staring back at me was dangerously handsome, with a wild edge to his gaze. It was Dominic Blackwood. The one person at Westfield High that nobody dared to cross. I spun around to run, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me against his chest. He dipped his head, breathing in the scent of my hair, his voice rough and low. "What did you just say? That you like me?" "Say it again." "If you don't, I'll kiss you right here in front of the whole school."

During the car accident, Ethan Jones used his body as a shield, protecting me so that I could walk away unscathed. However, when he finally woke up, his memory was frozen at eighteen years old, back when Millie Brown was his girlfriend. Ethan’s friends advised me to let go and fulfill their love story instead. They said that only by Millie’s side would Ethan—the model student everyone admired—step down from his pedestal and live a life. Apparently, I, the obedient, well-behaved girl, made his life dull and lifeless. What no one knew was that, amid the buzzing cicadas of summer, that well-behaved girl had fallen for him—year after year, never once wavering. So, I waited foolishly for Ethan to remember me until three years later, when I was diagnosed with cancer. On that very day, I finally saw the surprise he had mentioned preparing for me before the accident. Only then did I truly let go, and when he handed me the divorce papers once again, I signed my name.