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What are you doing to me, Marvel?” He moaned in my ear, licking my earlobe, tracing his tongue down to my neck, and forcing out a little gasp of pleasure from my mouth. “How can you lock me in your quagmire?” I grinned as those words escaped from his mouth. Who could have believed that the great Alpha of the Matilda pack could accept a half-breed as his mate? It's absurd. I moaned, repositioning my body as his tongue licked my left nipple, and wrapped my leg around his naked body as his head buried deep into my breast. The warmth of his body made me go wide, and I could feel my body getting restless, enthusiastic to mate with him, waiting impatiently for him to mark me. It's something I have been dreaming about ever since he accepted me as his mate. I clung tightly to his body as if he would disappear like he did when the Voltrons came for his throne, and I licked his neck to make him more horny. As he traced his tongue down to my chest, all the way to my abdomen, I managed to pull my hand, which he had pinned to the bed-rest, smoothing his back to the tail of his medulla oblongata, and then smacking his buttocks. He scoffed, “You're so naughty.” “You taught me,” I remarked, rolling over him and positioning myself properly on top of him. I bent low a little, my naked body, huge boobs, and mouth touching his chest, and then I whispered into his ear, “Let's make a baby.”

The champagne bubbles caught the light from the crystal chandeliers as Paxton's voice boomed across the opulent ballroom. "Ladies and gentlemen, tonight marks not just Burke Industries' triumphant IPO, but a celebration of true artistry!" I stood at the edge of the crowd, my fingers nervously smoothing the silk of my emerald dress—a dress Paxton had chosen, like everything else in my carefully curated life. The auction podium gleamed under the spotlights, and my heart hammered as I watched him stride toward it with the confidence of a man who owned the world. "We have here Sebastian Moreau's masterpiece, 'Dawn,'" the auctioneer announced, gesturing to the breathtaking canvas that seemed to glow with its own inner light. The painting depicted the first rays of sunrise breaking through storm clouds, each brushstroke alive with hope and renewal. "Bidding starts at two million." Paxton's hand shot up immediately. "Three million." Murmurs rippled through the crowd of Manhattan's elite. I recognized faces from magazine covers, art collectors whose names graced museum wings, socialites whose approval could make or break careers. They all watched with fascination as Paxton continued his relentless bidding. "Four million," came a counter-bid from somewhere behind me.

The lanterns cast a golden glow across the Moonridge Pack's full-moon festival, transforming the stone terrace into something magical. I stood at the edge of the celebration, my fingers nervously tugging at the sleeves of my dress—a habit I couldn't break even after nine years of attending these gatherings. As a wolfless omega from the Silverstone Pack, I was used to being invisible, especially to the one person whose attention I craved most. Nathan Cross. He moved through the crowd with effortless grace, his powerful Alpha aura making pack members step aside instinctively. My heart stuttered as it always did when I saw him. Nine years of devotion, of rearranging my entire life to orbit around his, and still the sight of him made my knees weak. "You're staring again," a voice murmured beside me. Liam Carter, my childhood friend from Silverstone, handed me a glass of punch. "One day your eyes are going to get stuck that way." I accepted the drink with a small smile.

Nathan finally came on the seventh day after my death. He did not come to pay his respects. He came to smash my mother’s urn. My spirit hovered, watching as he led Ariana inside. “Kimberly, I know you’re here. Enough theatrics.” Nathan’s voice was cold, flat. “Faking your own death to force me to call off my engagement? How pathetic can you be?” Beside him, Ariana’s voice trembled with a practiced sob. “Nathan, please—maybe she just needed to get away. Let’s not push her.” “Get away?” He raised his voice, addressing the empty air. “Kimberly, I’ll count to three. If you don’t come out, don’t blame me for what happens next.” From the inner room, my father rushed out—white-haired, leaning hard on his cane. A retired detective, now just a broken old man. “Nathan! You monster! Kimberly is dead! Dead because of you and that poisonous witch! What more do you want from us?” Nathan’s brow furrowed at the sight of him. “You’re in on this insanity too, old man? Move aside.” “I won’t! Not unless I’m dead!” “Fine. Have it your way.” He gave a slight nod to the bodyguard behind him. “Smash it.” He was pointing at my mother’s urn. The one I’d nearly died retrieving from a drug cartel’s revenge blast. … I watched, powerless, as the two men in black moved toward the altar. My father roared and lunged—only to be shoved easily to the floor. Ariana gasped and buried her face against Nathan’s chest, her shoulders trembling like a frightened fawn. He patted her back gently, his voice softening. “Don’t look, Ariana. I’m here. This ugliness is beneath you.” How laughable. The “pure, kind-hearted Ariana who couldn’t bear anything dirty” was the same woman who, just ten days earlier, had stood before me and spoken the vilest words in the sweetest tone. “Kimberly, you know… when your mother was blown up, they say there wasn’t a single piece of skin left intact. What a *hero*.” I was a prisoner in the villa then. It began at a party. I overheard Ariana and her friends laughing, calling my mother “a worthless fool who got herself killed.” I couldn’t hold back—I threw a glass of red wine straight into her face. Nathan slapped me. Hard. In front of everyone. He dragged me home and locked me away, his reasoning crisp and cold: “Ariana’s naive. She spoke without thinking. Was that necessary? You’re too angry, Kimberly. You need to cool down.” He stripped the villa of every phone, every line out, leaving only four bodyguards to “watch over” me. Ariana came later. She had the master access card Nathan had given her. After dismissing the guards, she settled gracefully into the chair across from me, wearing a perfect, placid smile. “Nathan says you’re too full of rage, Kimberly. I have to agree.” She tilted her head, a portrait of innocent cruelty. “But don’t worry. Soon you’ll be with your heroic mother. Oh, and Nathan’s given me the highest clearance at his Group. He says he feels safe with me beside him.” I thought she was only here to gloat. Then she took out her phone, dialed, and recited the villa’s address, casual as ordering takeout. “Just one woman here. Unarmed.” That’s when I understood. She hadn’t come to taunt me. She had come to end me.

I smoothed my hands over the crimson silk gown I'd chosen for our fifth anniversary celebration. The fabric caught the light as I turned before the mirror, examining my reflection with practiced scrutiny. Five years of marriage to Dominic Walker had taught me to be meticulous about my appearance. Five years of trying to be perfect. Five years of being someone else. The woman who stared back at me wasn't the person I'd been born as. Her face—my face—had been sculpted by the finest plastic surgeons money could buy. I'd endured the pain willingly, transforming myself into the image of the woman Dominic had loved first. I'd even taken her name—Kyra—leaving my own identity behind like a snake shedding unwanted skin. "Mrs.

They say a man only sees your worth when you walk away. Evelyn Williams learned this the hard way. She gave up everything for Victor. Her name, her empire, her dream. Ten years ago, she signed a contract to be his perfect wife, to give him children and secure his inheritance. She did everything right, yet nothing was ever enough. His mother called her trash. His assistant Amanda got his attention. And Victor? He barely looked her way. The night of the yacht party changed everything. When Evelyn fell into the ocean, Victor swam past her to save Amanda instead. She almost drowned while her husband held another woman in his arms. That was the night Evelyn Williams died. What rose from those waters was someone else entirely. Someone who remembered she was not just a wife, but the hidden heiress to Williams Fashion Empire, one of the biggest retail conglomerates in the country. Someone whose designs once graced runways in Paris and Milan. Now she is back home, back to her family, and back to reclaiming her throne. With a new man who treats her like a queen and her career rising again, life has never been better. But Victor finally sees what he lost. And he wants her back. Too bad Evelyn is done begging for love.

The call came while I was reviewing the pack's quarterly budget reports—spreadsheets that had consumed my morning with their neat columns of numbers that never quite added up the way they should. My phone buzzed against the desk, the academy's number flashing across the screen. "Mrs. Strauss, we need you to come pick up Colter." Instructor Phoebe's voice carried that particular tone of administrative inconvenience, as if my son's presence had become a scheduling problem. My chest tightened. "Is he hurt?" "There was an incident during sparring. Nothing serious, but he should probably go home for the day." Nothing serious. The words should have been reassuring, but they landed wrong—too practiced, too dismissive. I drove faster than I should have, my fingers tight around the steering wheel. The elite academy sat on Black Moon Pack's northern grounds, a sprawling complex where the pack's future warriors trained under instructors Grant had personally selected.

"Say my name, baby. Tell me who this pus sy belongs to." "Damian..." she moaned softly as I curled my fingers, hitting her just right. "Louder." "DAMIAN!" Inside the bathroom, Henry let out a wrecked sob, as if her screaming my name had just carved his heart out all over again. Perfect. I pulled my fingers out, brought them to my mouth, and licked them clean while she watched over her shoulder, her eyes glazed. Then I dropped to my knees like a man ready to worship his god. Because yes, I would worship this pus sy like it was my god. **** After sacrificing her legs and her freedom to save a stranger, Cindy Hart becomes the crippled wife of a man who only loved her out of guilt. When he brings his ex into their home and throws Cindy aside, she decides she is done being the victim. With her billionaire identity hidden and her brother's dangerously hot best friend pretending to be her lover, Cindy begins her revenge. But when the lines between fake and real blur with the playboy she once rejected, Cindy finds herself fighting not just for power but for a love she never saw coming.

The silver light of the full moon bathed the ceremonial grounds in an ethereal glow, but I felt nothing but ice in my veins as I watched my mate—my Ethan—present my mother's moonstone pendant to her. Vanessa Collins stood there in her flowing white dress, looking every bit the innocent she-wolf she pretended to be. Her honey-colored hair caught the moonlight as she tilted her head, examining the pendant with those calculating green eyes. My heart clenched as I recognized the delicate silver chain, the way the moonstone caught the light just as it had when my mother wore it. "Alpha Grant, this is... extraordinary," Vanessa's voice carried across the gathering, sweet as poisoned honey. "But I couldn't possibly accept such a valuable gift." I stood frozen on the ceremonial platform, my designated place as Luna feeling more like a cage with each passing second. The other pack members shifted uncomfortably around us—I could smell their unease mixing with the night air. Rebecca, my Beta and closest friend, tensed beside me, her hand twitching as if she wanted to reach for me but didn't dare. Ethan's massive frame dominated the space between us, his back to me as he faced Vanessa.

I clutched the pack reports to my chest as I stepped into Maximus's private office. The room smelled of him—pine and winter frost, a scent that once made my heart race with longing. Now it just reminded me of how cold he'd become. The door clicked shut behind me. I'd only meant to drop off the documents and leave, but his laptop sat open on the mahogany desk. A small black drive peeked out from beneath a stack of papers. Something compelled me forward. Perhaps it was the Moon Goddess herself, tired of watching me suffer in ignorance. I slid into his leather chair, my fingers trembling as I touched the keyboard. The screen brightened, revealing a password prompt.

"Y–You're a sick bastard" He laughed softly, grip loosening from my hand slightly and with eyes will fixed on me, cleaned the spittle slowly with his other hand and licked it. I gulped, a weird heat blooming at the sight of this. Seriously? I bit the bottom of my lips. There's no way I'm getting excited from this... "Delicious" he mused "Let's have you spit on something else with that cute mouth" ___ Alessia Ferraro, tossed as a sacrifice into a marriage with Mafia Lord, Cesare Marchetti in an attempt to save her family must figure out a way to clear her father's name and satisfy this craving Monster. Cold, dominant and possessive, Cesare hates the fact that he's been forced into a marriage with the daughter of a traitor based on a vow his father made. He vows to break her, but she refuses to bow... even as his touch awakens some cravings beyond her control. Will this fire of passion ignite something else, or will the dangers lurking the Shadows fuels it to burn them and leave them dead in their ashes?

I stood in my family's study, the afternoon sun casting long shadows across the antique Persian rug as my half-brother Pablo leaned against our father's mahogany desk. His expression was unreadable as always, but I knew that look in his eyes—calculation mixed with the cold precision of a chess player about to announce checkmate. "You can't avoid this forever, Gwen," Pablo said, his voice eerily calm as he examined the family portrait hanging behind the desk. "The arrangement with Arthur Roberts has been years in the making. Father was quite clear about his wishes." I clenched my fists, feeling the familiar rage bubbling up inside me. "I don't care what Father wanted. I'm not a piece of property to be bartered away for some business merger." Pablo's lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile. "Sentiment doesn't change reality. The Walker-Roberts alliance will stabilize both families' holdings across three continents." "I won't do it," I said, my voice low but firm. "I've known Arthur since we were children.

The pen felt like a dagger in my hand, heavy and sharp enough to draw blood. I stared at the cream-colored cardstock on the mahogany desk, the ink blurring under my gaze. "Stop trembling, Clara," Alpha Colton’s voice sliced through the silence of his office. It wasn’t a request; it was a command laced with the Alpha tone that forced my wolf to cower in submission. "It’s pathetic." I gripped the pen harder, my knuckles turning white. "You can’t do this, Colton. Please." Colton turned away from the window, his silhouette imposing against the afternoon sun. He looked every bit the powerful Alpha—broad shoulders, sharp jawline, radiating an aura that used to make my heart flutter. Now, it just made me cold. He walked over to the desk, his fingers idly straightening his diamond cufflinks—a nervous tic he thought I didn’t notice.

I shouldn’t have been home. A canceled afternoon board meeting had given me a rare pocket of silence in the two-million-dollar Manhattan penthouse I had bought, decorated, and maintained. Sunlight spilled across the wide-plank oak floors, catching the dust motes dancing in the heavy quiet. I walked into the master bedroom to change out of my suit. The duvet was perfectly smoothed—Diana, our housekeeper, was always thorough. But on Roger’s nightstand, half-hidden beneath his charging cable, sat a sleek, silver voice recorder. He used it for his advertising pitches, dictating ideas when inspiration struck. I picked it up, intending to move it to his leather briefcase. As I did, my thumb brushed the playback button. *Click.* The audio was crisp.

I, Marcus Steele, Alpha of the Silver Moon Pack, reject you, Luna Blackwood, as my mate and Luna. Luna Blackwood's wedding day becomes her nightmare when her Alpha publicly rejects her, declaring her too weak to bear his children. As her former best friend steps forward as his chosen replacement, Luna's world crumbles. But what Marcus doesn't know could destroy them all. Luna carries the last royal werewolf bloodline, a secret that makes her the most powerful supernatural being alive. Hidden from those who hunted her kind to extinction, she possesses abilities that could reshape their world forever. When mysterious Alpha Kai Nightshade reveals the conspiracy behind her rejection, Luna faces an impossible choice: remain broken and hidden, or embrace her destiny as the prophesied Lycan Queen who will unite all supernatural beings. From public humiliation to ultimate power, Luna's transformation will prove that being rejected was the best thing that ever happened to her. But first, she has a war to win.

Mason Stone thought contract marriages were simple-marry your fated mate to satisfy tradition, keep your real girlfriend on the side, stay emotionally detached. Then Maya left him. Four years later, she's back with a secret she's desperate to hide and a backbone he doesn't remember her having. The shy Omega he married is gone, replaced by a woman who won't even look at him twice. Maya returned to clear her father's name, not to fall back into the arms of the Alpha who broke her heart. She has the most important thing to protect now and enemies lurking in shadows, and the last thing she needs is Mason Stone complicating her life again. But Mason's done playing it safe. He wants his mate back, and this time he's willing to grovel.

I woke up in the ICU, my lungs still burning from the freezing river water. Just outside the cracked door, I heard my adoptive family talking. That’s when the horrifying realization hit me: my drowning wasn't an accident. My adoptive mother had deliberately pried my fingers off the slippery rocks and pushed me in. "When is she going to wake up? This Rust Belt trash always finds a way to ruin our important moments." "If she's mentally unstable, we should just send her to that facility in the Hamptons and have her sign the inheritance waiver." My father and brothers coldly plotted my removal, while my fiancé, Eric, laughed flirtatiously with my younger sister. He had his arm around her waist, completely unbothered by the fact that I was fighting for my life after he had just scammed me out of half a million dollars. For ten years, I had smiled, obeyed, and shrunk myself to fit into their gilded cage, desperate for a sliver of their love. I couldn't understand how a decade of absolute devotion was met with calculated murder and such casual, cruel betrayal. But the pathetic, desperate Iona died in that icy water. As the suppressed memories of my true identity—"Silas", a master art restorer possessing centuries of dangerous, hidden knowledge—flooded my mind, my tears stopped. I picked up the phone, secured a marriage of convenience with the most powerful man in New York, and began my counterattack.

After my foster brother, Wren, stumbled drunkenly into my bed, he missed a crucial call from his first love, Daniella. That night, she was killed in a car accident. When Wren heard the news, he murmured about fate’s cruelty. Later, I found out I was pregnant, and my parents naturally suggested Wren and I marry. For all those years, I believed he genuinely cared for me. But on our wedding night, he drugged my entire family and set our estate ablaze. Amid the dancing flames, he glared at us with hatred. "You took my beloved Daniella from me, and now you're after my family's wealth," he snarled. "Let's all go down together!" Suddenly, reality snapped back as I lay on the floor, recalling Wren's abrupt departure. The sharp ache in my arm reminded me this was a second chance at life.

In a world where weakness could cost someone their life, Ava Grey had been born without a wolf, and all she had ever faced was rejection and suffering. Her own kind had cast her aside, and a strange scar marked her with a secret she still didn't understand. More than anything, she had wanted to break free from it all. Then, on the night of the Lunar Gala, everything changed. It started with a single glance. One brief encounter. A bond formed against all reason and tied her to Lucas Westwood, the Alpha of the rival pack, the very man she should've stayed away from. Surrounded by hatred, rising conflict, and a fate she couldn't escape, Ava came to realize that what made her different wasn't a curse at all. It was a power others both craved and feared. As tensions grew, the packs moved closer to war. Alliances began to fall apart. In the middle of it all, one truth slowly revealed itself. The real danger wasn't the monster they thought they were fighting.

I jerked awake to the sound of Emma's whimpers. The digital clock on my nightstand glowed 2:17 AM, casting an eerie blue light across our bedroom. Michael's side of the bed was empty—again. "Mommy..." Emma's voice drifted from down the hall, weak and trembling. I rushed to her room, my heart hammering against my ribs. The moment I pushed open her door, the scent of sickness hit me—sharp and wrong. Emma lay tangled in sweat-soaked sheets, her small body convulsing with shivers despite the heat radiating from her skin. "Baby, I'm here," I whispered, pressing my palm to her forehead. She was burning up, her temperature far beyond what any human child could survive. But Emma wasn't human—she was a werewolf child whose inner wolf was struggling to emerge.

The cold stone walls of the detention cell had been my world for fifteen days. Fifteen days of stale bread, murky water, and the constant whispers of guards who thought I couldn't hear them through the thick walls. "The real Luna won't like this," one had muttered during a shift change. "Alpha's got his hands full with his true family," another had replied with a knowing chuckle. I'd dismissed it as gossip then. Pack members loved to speculate about leadership, especially when someone was locked away for alleged crimes. But now, as Marcus Stone unlocked my cell door with barely concealed discomfort, those whispered words echoed differently in my mind. "Isabella," Marcus said, his usual confident demeanor replaced by something that looked almost like pity. "You're free to go. Alpha Brodie wants to see you in his office immediately." I stepped into the corridor, my legs unsteady after days of confinement.

After just six months of a whirlwind marriage, she realized she barely knew her husband: Ethan. He is the picture of perfection-devoted, gentle, and endlessly doting. Yet a shadow of doubt creeps into her heart, whispering that nothing is as it seems. The arrival of Lucas shatters the illusion, pulling back the curtain on years of buried secrets. Was the man she called her husband nothing but a brilliant fraud? Had every tender word and loving gesture been a lie? So why, as her world falls apart, does he still pull her close, his voice a low caress as he asks, "Darling, shall we stay in the living room... or take this to the bedroom?" The First Vow was built on his flawless deception. The Second was forged in heart-wrenching tenderness. The Third became a desperate, life-pledging love. Three grand marriages. Three different men hidden in one. Each vow cuts deeper than the last, leaving her to wonder-how many more times must she marry him to finally know the real man behind them all?

I arrived at RavenHills Pack Estate, innocent and eager for college. But my guardian, Alpha Zavian, has other plans. His hungry eyes follow me, awakening desires I never knew existed. The first time he touches me, I melt. His strong hands caress my body, igniting flames between my legs. I crave his cock like a drug. Zavian tries to fight it. "You're my best friend's daughter," he growls. But his rock hard erection tells a different story. He wants me. When I bring home a boy, Zavian explodes with jealousy. "No other male will touch you in my territory," he snarls. He pins me against the wall and claims my mouth in a searing kiss. I whimper as his fingers find my dripping pussy. I get into heat and Daddy offers to take me on free sex lessons. Ones that will disfigure my walking style before the morning. Zavian's cock has become my obsession. I ride him, savoring each inch of his massive cock. His teeth mark my neck as he pounds me into intense bliss. But danger lurks. The pack elders want Zavian to take a Luna. Scandals from his past threaten to tear us apart. I discovered Zavian is the one who begged my father to send me here. Now we have a choice: obey the pack or fight for our forbidden love. As enemies circle, I brace for the final showdown. Will Zavian claim me as his mate...or will our passions burn us alive? The truth will be revealed...right after one last earth-shattering climax.

Elara Quinn had no choice. Debt, danger, and a family counting on her left only one solution: marry the coldest billionaire she had ever met. Dominic Blackwood is feared by everyone, ruthless, commanding, and impossible to read. His mother watches her every move, his enemies whisper from the shadows, and Dominic himself treats her like a pawn in a game she cannot win. The contract is clear: obey, smile, survive. Love is forbidden. Questions are not allowed. But Elara quickly learns the greatest threat isn't the contract, it's the growing tension between them, the secrets lurking in Dominic's past, and the enemies who would destroy everything if given the chance. One misstep could ruin her, or him. In a marriage built on power, control, and silence, trust becomes the deadliest weapon of all.