A Taste Of Him: The One I Was Never Meant to Want
Her Bestie's Brother
She only came over to spend time with her best friend-
not to run into her infamous senior brother, the campus playboy everyone warned her about.
Every time she saw him, she felt nothing but disgust.
How could someone who had a sister he adored still treat girls like toys?
But when he walked into the house with a group of girls trailing behind him, her frustration finally snapped-
and she cursed him out without caring who heard.
Then came the day they all hung out, played too much, drank too much...
and the night spiraled into something neither of them ever expected.
A reckless moment.
A passionate night.
A mistake-or something else?
Now, she can't stop asking herself:
Will this change the way she sees him?
And more dangerously... will this change him?
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Chapter 6
Chapter six
Jaxon's POV
Staring speechless at the marbled tiles of the hallway, I could still feel the sting of Aurora's slap against my face. My hands instinctively went to my jaw, touching the spot where her nails had dug in. My eyes went flat, icy-cold enough to make anyone think I was capable of murder in that instant.
I turned away, heading back to the locker room. Jefferey's team was still buzzing with victory energy, loud and obnoxious, replaying every moment of the match as if they'd just won the World Cup. Their laughter echoed through the metal lockers-sharp, cocky, deliberately aimed to needle anyone wearing my teams' colors.
"Bro, did you see the knock on Jaxon?" one of Jeff's teammates cackled. "He fell like a fucking leaf!"
More laughter exploded, bouncing off the walls.
Jefferey leaned casually against a locker, smirking. "Leaf? Nah. More like a toddler learning how to walk."
My jaw tightened. I walked straight to my locker, trying to ignore them. But Jeff's voice followed, sharp, mocking-
"Hey, Jax! Next time try staying on your feet, yeah? Or do you need training wheels?"
The room erupted again in laughter.
My shoulders stiffened. I inhaled slowly, trying to remind myself murder was illegal-but only barely.
Then I turned.
"What the fuck did you just say?"
Jeff grinned, stepping closer. "Oh relax, golden boy. Don't be salty because you lost. Again. And that knock? Man-your ass hit the turf like a bitch."
The room froze for a moment.
I didn't hesitate. My fist crashed into Jeff's jaw, lockers rattling with the force. Jeff's head snapped back, stumbling into a bench, water bottles flying.
"Motherfucker!" Jeff yelled, blood trickling from his lip.
He lunged forward fast. His punch connected with my cheekbone, a sharp crack echoing through the room.
"YEAH? You mad because you got flattened on the field?" Jeff spat. "Or because my team showed you how real players score?"
My eyes went ice-cold.
I grabbed Jeff by the front of his jersey, slammed him against the lockers, and drove another punch into Jeff's ribs-hard enough to steal his breath. Jeff groaned, half-collapsed, before forcing himself upright.
Players tried to intervene, coaches shouted from the hallway, chaos erupting around them. But I shoved everyone off, breathing like a storm barely contained.
I leaned in, voice low, venomous:
"Talk shit again, Jeff... and I'll fuck up more than your teeth."
With that, I shoved Jeff away violently, letting him collapse once more against the lockers. I wiped the blood from my own mouth, grabbed my bag, and kicked the locker room door open with a resounding slam. I didn't look back.
Coach barged in, furious, voice booming. "What the hell is wrong with both of you?!
I didn't even glance at him-jaw tight, knuckles split, breath sharp. Jeff wiped his bloodied lip, still glaring like he wanted a second round.
Coach pointed, shaking. "Jaxon, you're suspended for two games. Effective immediately!"
A few teammates gasped. Big deal-but I only smirked.
"Whatever," I muttered. "Your team can choke without me."
Jeff stepped forward, chest heaving. "Coach, he threw-"
"And YOU," the coach snapped, turning to Jeff, "are benched for the next match and running laps for the rest of the week. Since you apparently don't know how to walk away."
Jeff froze, humiliation written all over his face.
"One more fight," the coach continued, voice cutting, "and both of you sit out the entire tournament. I don't care how good you think you are."
He stormed out, leaving a choking silence behind.
I tossed one last cold look at Jeff-sharp enough to slice.
"Next time you mock my team," I said in a low, icy drawl, "I won't wait for the locker room."
Then I walked out, suspension or not. I wasn't just angry. He was dangerous.
---
When I got home, my mom shrieked. "Omg! You fought at school?!"
"No, mom, I fell down the stairs," I lied, barely glancing at her.
"What do you mean you fell?" she pressed, puzzled.
"A little wound, don't worry," I said, heading to my room to freshen up.
Layla appeared with a first aid kit, eyes full of questions. I ignored her, numb, not wanting to think about the fight. She left.
I lowered myself into the steaming tub, mint-scented water curling around his skin. "The Hills" by The Weeknd played from the speaker-the same edge-laden song I'd been blasting in the locker room.
No lady has ever done that to me...
What the fuck! Aurora! Smirked in my mind. No one gets away with that... I'll make you pay.
I got out, grabbed my bike keys, and called Amelia. She'd be on standby for sure. Maybe letting off some frustration elsewhere would clear my head.
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9.3
Elena died on the operating table, betrayed by her husband, her unborn child already gone.
But death? Just her intermission.
She woke up in a whole new world-a beastmen's world, where females are rarer than diamonds and the strongest males go mad without a woman's mark to calm them down.
And her?
Labelled the weakest female alive. An F-rank body with a joke of a status.
But hidden inside? Unlimited mental power.
Just as she's figuring out this mess, a system pops up with one hell of an offer:
Complete the missions. Bond with assigned males. Save this world.
Do all that, and you get a one-way ticket back home. for revenge.
Sounds simple? Think again.
A Wolf General, colder than a blizzard, who should have ended her-ended up letting her mark him.
A Fox Prince, all charming smiles and secret schemes, who started playing games only to lose his own heart.
A golden Dragon, sunshine-bright and fiercely possessive, who declares her his destined treasure.
A shadowy Serpent, too patient and too dangerous, watching her every move from the dark.
A Phoenix King, whose love burns so hot he'd reduce empires to cinders for her.
They all need her mark. They all want her.
And sharing? Not in their vocabulary.
Too bad for them-
She's not here for love stories.
She's here to survive.
To climb.
To turn their legendary power into her own stepping stones.
And one day.
To go back and make her betrayers wish they were never born.
7.2
Genevieve woke up choking on her own blood, a fatal gash tearing through her abdomen. The memories of a primitive world crashed into her mind—she had transmigrated into the body of a sadistic beastman Mistress.
But the five powerful beastmen "mates" standing over her hadn't come to her rescue. They had come to watch their tormentor die.
"We should just leave her," Kameron sneered coldly. "The scavengers will clean up the mess."
Gilberto spat in disgust, while Angelo, a silver-scaled snake-man, trembled in pure terror at the sight of her. The original owner had whipped them, humiliated them, and driven another mate to suicide. Now, they were letting her bleed out in the mud, their eyes filled with undisguised loathing and satisfaction.
She was a top-tier apocalyptic survival expert, yet here she was, paying the ultimate price for a stranger's monstrous sins. It was a bitter, unacceptable irony to die helplessly in the dirt while her supposed protectors waited for her corpse to rot.
She refused to accept this ending.
Forcing a chaotic surge of energy through their shared Biological Link, she brought all five men to their knees in agonizing pain, commanding them to carry her back. In the dark cave, without a single scream, she plunged her bare hands into a fire and brutally cauterized her own gaping wound with searing ash. As the beastmen stared in horrified awe at the unbreakable soul now occupying the tyrant's body, Genevieve wiped the blood from her face and began to rewrite her fate.
8.0
For Claire, Christmas has always been about survival. She only wanted to keep life steady for her daughter Emma after heartbreak and loss. Moving to a quiet snowy town was meant to be a fresh start, not the beginning of something new for her heart.
Jack, a widowed single father, has built his world around his children. He has hidden his own longing for love beneath duty and routine. But when Claire and Emma step into his life, the walls he carefully built begin to melt away like snow under the winter sun.
As festive lights glow and snow falls gently around them, Claire and Jack discover laughter, warmth, and the kind of connection they never thought they would feel again. Their children bond, their hearts open, and slowly, a friendship begins to grow into something far deeper.
But love after loss is never simple. Can Claire trust her heart again. Can Jack embrace the future instead of living in the past.
This Christmas, two families are given a second chance to heal, to hope, and to find themselves forever in each other's arms.
Christmas in Your Arms is a heartwarming holiday romance filled with tender moments, snowy nights, and the magic of love that feels like coming home.
7.1
On her eighteenth birthday, Melissa expected a fated mate bond and a future as Luna. Instead, she received a public humiliation that shattered her soul. Her childhood sweetheart, Kelan, rejected her for her best friend, and her own family sold her to the highest bidder like livestock, to Alpha Draven the Demon of Dark Moon Valley. He is a man twice her age, a tyrant who bought Melissa to break a dark bloodline curse. He expects an obedient pawn and a submissive wife.
He didn't expect a strategist. From the shadows of Draven's stone fortress, Melissa begins a cold-blooded campaign of revenge. She isn't just surviving; she's siphoning wealth, buying up her ex-mate's debts, and plotting a coup. But her plan hits a deadly snag when she touches Briston, the Alpha's son and heir. The spark is undeniable. The Moon Goddess has played a cruel joke and Melissa is fated to the son of the man who owns her.
7.9
On Christmas Eve, the snow fell in relentless sheets.
My grandmother and I were cast out into the snow as if we were nothing by my uncle.
My aunt cursed me as a bad luck charm, while my uncle's boot landed fiercely in my chest.
I knelt in the freezing snow, clutching my grandmother's body as it grew cold, my nails digging into my flesh, convinced that death awaited us tonight.
Suddenly, the blinding headlights cut through the night.
A convoy of Rolls-Royce cars, bearing diplomatic plates, silently blocked the entrance to the rundown neighborhood.
The elderly butler strode directly to my grandmother, who had been "blind" for forty years, and knelt on one knee, "Your Highness, forgive us for arriving so late."
7.1
I lay paralyzed on stiff white sheets, a prisoner in my own skin, listening to the rain lash against the window like nails on a coffin. My father, Elmore Franco, didn't even look at my face as he checked his clipboard. He just listened to the steady, monotonous beep of the heart monitor-the only thing proving I was still alive.
Without a hint of remorse, he pulled a pen from his pocket and signed the Do Not Resuscitate order. My stepmother, Ophelia, stepped out from behind him, wearing my favorite pearl necklace and smelling of cloying perfume. She leaned close to my ear to whisper the truth that turned my blood to ice.
"It was the tea, darling. Just like your mother. A slow, tasteless poison."
She chuckled as she revealed that my fiancé, Bryce, had a two-year-old son with my sister, Daniela. My inheritance had been funding their secret life for years, and now that the money was secure, I was an inconvenience they were finally scrubbing away. As my father yanked the power cord from the wall, the beeping died, and the darkness swallowed me whole.
I was being murdered by my own flesh and blood, used as a bank account until I was no longer needed. I died in that sterile room, drowning in the realization that every person I ever loved was a monster who had been waiting for me to take my last breath.
Then, I gasped. I woke up in a luxury hotel suite surrounded by silk sheets, five years in the past-the very morning of my wedding. Next to me lay Basile Delgado, the "Wolf of Wall Street" and my family's most dangerous enemy. In my first life, I ran from this room in a panic and lost everything. This time, I looked at the man who would eventually destroy my father's empire and decided to join him.
"I'm not leaving, Basile. Marry me. Right now. Today."