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The bass from the karaoke bar pulsed through my chest like a second heartbeat, each thump making my temples throb. I watched Lucca laughing with his pack brothers, his arm slung casually over Delta Marcus's shoulder as they belted out some terrible rendition of an old pack anthem. The crowd was a sea of familiar faces from Silvermoon, all here to celebrate our territory's founding anniversary. I'd been smiling for two hours straight, playing the perfect Luna-to-be, but the noise was finally winning. 'I need some air,' I murmured to Mira, who nodded with understanding before turning back to her own conversation. The cool night air hit my face like a blessing as I slipped through the bar's side door. Silvermoon territory at night was beautiful—the trees rustled gently, and moonlight painted everything in silver and shadow. I took a deep breath, letting Selene, my wolf, stretch contentedly within me. For just a moment, I could pretend I was alone with the night sky. Then I heard Lucca's voice.

On her 81st birthday, rigid engineering professor Eleanor trades fury with graffiti-artist granddaughter Luna; lightning strikes during their mutual wish and Eleanor wakes in Luna’s 19-year-old body. Forced to attend Luna’s sculpture class, she solves the clay-balance problem with fluid-dynamics math, stunning the professor and classmates. When she finds Luna’s family mural torn up as “vandalism,” Eleanor dumpster-dives to rescue every piece, then stares at the fragments—three generations of women—and realizes the art she once mocked is now her battle to save.

I was a star lawyer, undefeated in court. Then my husband and my rival framed me with fabricated evidence, landing me in prison and destroying my name. But the ultimate betrayal came after my release. My own adopted son, the boy I saved and raised, slashed my tires while my husband tampered with the brakes, sending my car flying off a cliff to silence me for good. The world declared me dead. For seven years, I' ve lived as a ghost, scrubbing toilets and hiding in the shadows while they built a perfect life on the ashes of mine. Now, they' ve dragged me back into their glittering world, using my son' s 18th birthday as the stage for their own engagement party-a final, public spectacle to humiliate me. They see a broken cleaner, a ghost they can easily dismiss. They're wrong. Tonight, I' m going live. And I' m bringing seven years of digital receipts that will burn their entire world to the ground.

She came to St. Jude's to be invisible. He made that impossible. Elara Vance doesn't speak. Not because she can't, because the world stopped being safe enough to speak to. She's brilliant, she's careful, and she has survived worse than an elite private school full of students who treat cruelty like a sport. She just needs two semesters. That's all. Julian Reed was supposed to be background noise. The soccer star. The golden boy. The one everyone watches and no one really knows. She was not supposed to catch his attention. He was not supposed to keep hers. But when Julian steps in to help her and accidentally paints a target on her back, Elara discovers that some enemies don't just want to win. They want to destroy. And some protectors don't know when to stop. She doesn't need saving. She needs to get through senior year without falling apart. She's failing at both. Enemies in the hallway. Secrets in the group chat. A stepmother at home who calls it honesty when she cuts. And a boy in the front row who keeps sliding notes backward and saying things like I pay what I owe like he actually means it. Elara has one rule: don't let anyone in. Julian Reed is very bad for her rules.

Jackson and Jason Stone are the pride of their pack. Their parents are the first Royals in over two decades and their strength is undeniable. The twins have to live up to some pretty high expectations but when their secret is revealed to them those expectations vanish. Anger and betrayal fill their hearts, washing away all the love and warmth they grew up with. How can immortal wolves ever find happiness? How can they sit back and watch all their love ones perish?

In a kingdom where fire and frost clash, An immortal king awakens from centuries of slumber..... And a forgotten princess discover powers she never imagined. Together they must unite their realms, confront an ancient force and navigate a bond that ignites with desire, danger and magic But will the dread court yield?, And can passion alone be enough to survive?.

Eleanor believed Carl, Alpha of the Stormfang Pack, was her forever-until she's falsely accused of plagiarism at the design finals by his first love, Katherine. Carl chooses Katherine without hesitation, throwing Eleanor aside and allowing his ex to destroy her. After demanding a divorce, Eleanor is left with nothing but debt and despair-until she rescues an injured, amnesiac werewolf named Martin. Everything changes when this mysterious stranger enters her life. Ethan Lawrence, heir to the Ashclaw Pack, lost everything after a brutal attack-until Eleanor saved his life. Living as "Martin," he fell for the woman who gave him a home despite having nothing. When his memory returns, Ethan reveals his true identity and systematically destroys everyone who hurt her. But as Carl realizes what he's lost and a mysterious Alpha from the Obsidianfang Pack circles closer, Ethan must prove he's not just Eleanor's savior-he's the mate she deserves. Can a broken Luna learn to trust again, or will the Alphas surrounding her destroy the fragile life she's rebuilding?

My husband, Dante Moretti, the feared Underboss, signed the divorce papers I slipped him without a glance. Too busy texting his true love, Sofia, he was blind to the annulment decree ending everything. The Reaper couldn't see the death of his own marriage. For three years, I was Elena, his silent wife, the "Caged Canary," cleaning his messes while meticulously planning my escape from our loveless world. He dismissed me for Sofia's every whim, publicly shaming me after a past love letter was read, then abandoning me again for her fake crisis. That night, he violently shoved me against a wall, leaving me bleeding and concussed, rushing instead to protect Sofia. Discarded and injured, my invisible love became a weapon against me. His crushing blindness, the cold realization I was a mere placeholder, fueled a profound injustice. How could he be so lethal, yet oblivious to his wife, favoring the one who betrayed him? With chilling resolve, I uploaded Sofia's confession, initiated a massive financial transfer dismantling his empire, and staged my own death. Under a new identity, I fled to San Francisco, ready to build my power, far from his bloody, deceitful world.

A jagged spike of agony woke Kiana up in a filthy stone room. She had transmigrated into the body of a notorious, exiled matriarch in a brutal wasteland. Before she could even process her new reality, she saw a massive, bloodied man huddled in the corner, trembling in absolute terror. Foreign memories detonated in her brain: the original Kiana swinging a spiked whip, laughing as she tore his flesh open. He was her husband, and she was a monster who tortured her own consorts. The situation was a complete death trap. Another husband stormed in, throwing down a marriage contract and demanding to sever their ties, which would leave her to be eaten by mutated beasts. Outside, her third husband lay dying from a toxic wound while the rest of the tribe mocked her, eagerly waiting for her downfall. Scanning her own body, Kiana discovered her face was covered in ugly purple bruises. The original host hadn't just been naturally insane; she had been secretly fed a chronic poison by political enemies, destroying her beauty and driving her mad until she was exiled. As a survivor from a modern apocalypse, the sight of broken, enslaved men made her skin crawl. She refused to die in this savage wasteland as a pawn in someone else's twisted game. Kiana tossed the contract back to the furious man. "Give me three months. I will save him, and I swear I won't touch you." With her apocalyptic healing powers and a newly awakened Spatial System, she was going to rewrite the rules of this primitive world.

"Weird, my mic's picking up some interference," I muttered, checking my audio settings. "Can you guys still hear me okay?" The chat confirmed they could, but several messages started pointing out the background noise. *MidnightGamer42: Did someone just moan?* *SingingQueen: There's definitely someone talking next door* *KittyKat98: Turn up the gain Mia, let's hear the tea!* "What? No, it's probably just—" I laughed nervously, but paused when I heard it again—clearer this time. A woman's laugh, muffled but distinct, coming through the wall that separated my room from Ryan's. "Oh my god, Ryan," that female voice giggled. "You're so bad. You need to dump that streamer girl, I’m sick of having her around." My blood turned to ice. Three thousand people were watching my world collapse in real time. My eyes flicked to the chat, which had suddenly exploded: *WTF IS THAT HIS GIRLFRIEND??* *OMG MIA YOUR FACE RIGHT NOW* *IS THIS REAL??* *Someone clip this!!!!*

The emerald dress Sterling bought me last Christmas clung to my curves as I sat alone at our favorite table, watching other couples clink glasses and whisper sweet nothings across candlelit tables. My fingers traced the stem of my wine glass, the vintage watch I'd spent weeks selecting for him wrapped neatly beside my plate. Five years. Five perfect years of marriage, and he'd promised tonight would be special. "He'll be here any minute," I whispered to myself, checking my phone again. No calls. No texts. The screen showed 9:47 PM—two hours and seventeen minutes past our reservation time. A waiter approached with practiced sympathy. "Mrs.

The fluorescent lights of the Social Security Administration office hummed with a headache-inducing frequency, a sound that seemed to vibrate right behind my eyes. I sat on the edge of the hard plastic chair, my hands clasped so tightly in my lap that the knuckles had turned the color of old bone. Three years. It had been three years of mourning a ghost, three years of scrubbing floors until my knees bled, three years of serving a family that treated me like a stain on their carpet. I just needed the death benefit. A pittance, really, but enough to maybe fix the leaking roof in the West estate’s attic where I slept, or perhaps buy groceries that weren’t on the clearance rack. "Mrs. West?" The clerk, a weary-looking woman named Brenda, peered over her spectacles. She didn't look at me with pity, just bureaucratic exhaustion. "Yes," I said, my voice sounding thin and brittle to my own ears.

"Kneel, Madison. Or did you forget that a stray like you doesn't deserve to stand in the presence of a True Alpha?" Austin’s voice was a jagged blade, but the heat of his hand on my throat told a different story. He’d traded me for my sister—the "real" daughter—claiming my scent was too weak, my blood too thin. He threw me to the dirt, watching with a smirk as my adoptive father tossed a few hundred-dollar bills at my feet and told me to disappear into the slums. They thought they broke me. They thought I was heading toward a life of hunger and shame with a family of "nobodies." They were dead wrong. When the black helicopters darkened the sky and the most powerful Lycan King in history stepped out to bow to me, the look on Austin’s face was worth more than his pathetic pack. My "impoverished" biological family didn't live in a shack—they owned the world. And my five "starving" brothers? They were the most lethal Alphas on the planet, and they were hungry for the blood of anyone who touched their sister. Now, I’m back. Not as the girl who begged for scraps, but as the Zillionaire Queen with enough silver to buy their souls and enough power to burn their legacy to ash. But there’s a problem: Ethan Harper. The Cursed Lycan King. A man who smells like midnight and looks like sin. He wants my heart, he wants my throne, and he’s determined to prove that while revenge is sweet, submission is delicious. He thinks he can tame the White Wolf. I think I’ll enjoy watching him try.

"Can a virgin do this?" I asked, working my way to his shorts. How does one not fall in love with someone? How do you fight off the feeling of love? I tried. God, I tried. I did everything I could... Distanced myself. Fought my emotions. Built walls around my heart just to keep him out. But then he changed. From the arrogant, infuriating man I swore I hated... To the loving, patient man I can't breathe without. And yet, like the old saying goes... The first impression is always the truth. Because now, here I stand... On the altar. In front of everyone. Dressed as a bride. With no groom in sight.

He leaned in, inhaling her sweet scent as his hands traveled from her back to her waist, and then down to her thigh. She felt her breath hitch as she let out a small gasp. "We shouldn't be doing this." She said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Then tell me to stop." His voice was low, daring, as his fingers traced slow circles on her skin. *** Lucy had always lived life on her own terms, until the night everything changed. One moment, she was free; the next, she was bound to Barry Cooper, a cold, dangerous man who ruled the underworld with an iron fist. She never expected to be trapped in a world of power struggles, deceit, and unspoken desires. But as the lines between captor and captive blur, Lucy realizes she's caught in a deadly game, one where trust is a luxury and survival is not guaranteed. Will she escape the ruthless mobster who owns her... or will she become his greatest obsession?

Bryson POV Blackridge University was already a nightmare before I dumped hot coffee all over Julian Hayes. He's tall, built, with this perfect smirk that makes me want to punch him. Captain of the hockey team and the biggest asshole I've ever met. He destroyed me in front of everyone. Made sure I knew exactly where I stood. But then I joined the hockey team to make my mom happy, and suddenly everything changed. I could actually play. And Julian? He started looking at me like he wanted to destroy me in a whole different way. Now every practice feels like war. Every time we're alone in the locker room, I can barely breathe. I hate him. I want him. And I'm pretty sure he knows it. Julian's POV I run Blackridge University. Team captain, golden boy, everyone wants to be me or be with me. Then some transfer kid crashes into me and ruins my shirt. Bryson Miller. Smart mouth, cheap clothes, and eyes that look at me like he's not impressed. I should've crushed him and moved on. But the little shit joined my hockey team and turned out to be good. Really good. Now I can't get him out of my head. Every practice, every fight we have feels like something else entirely. Something I don't want to think about. I thought that was complicated enough. Then I walk into my house tonight and find Bryson unpacking boxes in my living room..

Ellyn woke to a news alert of her husband, billionaire Hardy Burnett, picking up his "mystery blonde" ex at a private terminal. Just hours earlier, he had been raw and consuming in their shared bed, but by morning, he was a cold stranger tossing a birth control pill at her. He reminded her with mechanical indifference that their marriage was a mere contract, and the Burnett family tolerated no accidental risks. The mystery woman was Izabella Macdonald, the one who got away. While Ellyn spent her mornings dabbing heavy concealer over the purple bruises Hardy left on her neck, the rest of the world was celebrating the return of the "rightful" Mrs. Burnett. To Hardy, Ellyn was a liability; to his family, she was a placeholder with a bankrupt bloodline. The humiliation peaked at a high-society gala when Hardy walked in with Izabella on his arm, leaving Ellyn to navigate the vultures alone. His mother mocked her as "cheap polyester," and socialites whispered about the penthouse Hardy was secretly buying for his mistress. Even as Hardy's jealousy flared when he saw Ellyn with his brother, his loyalty remained divided, his heart seemingly anchored to the woman in the white silk dress. The breaking point came in the pouring rain outside the venue. Hardy ordered Ellyn into the backseat of the car like common cargo so that Izabella could take the passenger seat-the seat of the partner. He expected Ellyn to sit in the shadows and watch his ex-girlfriend play wife in the front, treating her presence as a domestic inconvenience he could simply command. I stared at the man who owned my nights but despised my existence. The heavy thud of the pill I swallowed every morning felt like a lead weight, a bitter reminder that I was nothing more than a paid commodity in his eyes. He thought he knew everything about his destitute, dependent wife, from the temperature I needed the room to the way I took my tea. But Hardy didn't know about the encrypted ledgers or the offshore accounts. He didn't know that the "destitute" woman he relegated to the backseat was the secret mastermind behind Skim, the global fashion empire currently worth more than his latest merger. "I'm not getting in," I said, my voice eerily calm against the thunder. I slammed the door, turned my back on his roar of fury, and walked into the dark. It was time to stop being a ghost in his house and start being the woman who could buy his entire world.

For three years, I was Alpha Brennan Dawson's dirty little secret. By day, I was his efficient, wolfless assistant. By night, I was the only one who could calm the beast in his soul. Then his chosen mate, Kassie, came home, and the man who'd held me hours before looked at me like I was furniture. His first order of business was to erase his past. He commanded me to draft a Severance Declaration for the fated mate he'd rejected in the rain six years ago. He wanted to give Kassie a clean slate. He even told me to add a generous compensation clause from the Pack Treasury, a reward for the rejected girl's six years of silence. I stood there, taking notes, while he dictated the terms of my own erasure, the ultimate insult slapping me in the face. He had no idea. He didn't know the girl he'd rejected in a dark corridor was me. He didn't know the woman he was paying to disappear was the same one who'd spent the last three years warming his bed. I would write the declaration. I would take his money. And when he signed his name to my freedom, I would disappear from the life of the man who broke me twice.

A year ago, my husband Marco traded my life for a political alliance. I watched his mistress's taillights fade into the dark as the freezing waters of Lake Michigan swallowed me whole. They called my drowning a tragic accident and burned a fake body before anyone could demand an autopsy. Tonight, Marco is marrying that same mistress, Isabella, in a lavish ballroom filled with Chicago's underworld elites. They even conceived a child during my mourning period, a deadly sin in our traditional Mafia family. They thought I was rotting at the bottom of the lake, completely forgotten. But they didn't know I had survived, bleeding through brutal underground training just to crawl my way back. When the wedding venue plunged into darkness and a single spotlight hit me standing there in a white mourning gown, Marco dropped his glass. "Arabella? No... you're dead," he choked out, his face draining of blood. Isabella shrieked, looking like she had seen the devil himself. Did they really think a little water could wash away our sacred vows? They stole my life, my name, and my family, expecting me to stay a compliant ghost forever so they could secure their power. I smiled coldly as I handed the Mafia Don a decree of absolute protection from The Commission. I am Arabella Stark, and my vendetta only ends when they drown in their own blood.

The Moon Goddess doesn't make mistakes. But as Alpha King Damien Blackmoor stood before his entire kingdom and rejected his fated mate, he wondered if the goddess had finally lost her mind. Aria Thornwood was weak. Wolfless. Worthless. And the only woman destiny had chosen for him. Humiliated before thousands, Damien cast her into exile, choosing pride over prophecy. He told himself it was for the best. He told himself the Moon Goddess made a mistake. He told himself these lies for five years. Until the curse came. Until his kingdom began to die. Until the ancient prophecy revealed that only the True Luna could save them all. Now Damien must journey into the wilderness to find the woman he destroyed and beg for her help. But Aria is no longer the broken girl he rejected. She has become something the world has never seen, a True Luna, more powerful than any Alpha in history. She doesn't need a king. She doesn't need a mate. And she is not interested in forgiveness. The Moon Goddess doesn't make mistakes. Damien did. And winning back his rejected mate will require more than his crown. It will require his heart. Some bonds cannot be broken. Some kings must learn to kneel. And some love is worth any price.

Fallon Bayliss, a young, successful painter from New York, has nightmares, and some parts of her memory are missing. One night, she gets abducted by Sean, a vampire. And that brings her to the very beginning, first to London where she worked as a waitress, and then back to Rome. Remembering she spent the last year and a half there as that vampire's pet, his sex slave, under the false identity. And all the things he has done to her recall the awful pain, realizing she both hates and desires him. Her doom started at her 19th birthday party when she met Hope Douglas, looking identical to her. Fallon has no clue vampires exist. And that Hope is a vampire hunter when she offers her a lucrative deal. Fallon takes it, falling into the trap and committing the biggest mistake of her life. Now Sean wants to turn her into a vampire and keep her forever. Fallon carries a secret of her own, but so does Sean. And the plot slowly unfolds from the moment of her abduction.

I spent months crafting the perfect disguise to infiltrate the ultra-wealthy Brooks family by dating the younger heir, Cason. I even underwent a painful surgery to fake my physical innocence. But the moment I stepped into his penthouse, I ran straight into the one man who haunted my worst nightmares: his ruthless older brother, Jackson Brooks. Five years ago, Jackson's family tied me to a cold medical table and brutally ripped my unborn child from my womb because they didn't allow bastards to be born. Now, Jackson recognized me instantly. He cornered me in the dark, bit my ear until it bruised, and threw my confidential medical files in my face. "Leave Cason, or I will personally destroy every single thing you care about," he hissed. He thought his billions could buy my silence and erase the agonizing screams of my past. He thought I was just a pathetic con artist trying to steal their trust fund. He didn't know the innocent, terrified girl act was just bait. Standing on the edge of the highway bridge, watching the invincible billionaire tremble in pure terror at the memory of my fake suicide from five years ago, a cold smile curved my lips. My revenge had officially begun, and I was going to tear his empire apart piece by piece.

I woke up with a splitting headache, only to realize I had transmigrated into the body of a fragile rodent-variant female in a brutal, mutated wasteland. Before I could even process my new reality, I was shoved into a mandatory pairing auction. The guards gave me exactly ten seconds to find a partner, or I would be sent to the deadly border patrol squads as cannon fodder. Three massive, heavily scarred mutants with greedy eyes immediately locked onto me, ready to claim me as their plaything. Desperate for a legal shield, I scrambled away from the brutes and made a shocking choice. I walked straight up to the one person everyone else was avoiding like the plague—a sickly, pale man coughing up dark red blood in the corner. "Partner up. I need a shield, you need a caretaker." When the guard registered our names, the entire square erupted in open mockery. The chieftain even warned me that my new partner was poisoned, a dead man walking who couldn't hunt or protect me. In their eyes, a weakling and a dying man were nothing but a joke, doomed to freeze or starve. But the jeering crowd didn't know two things. First, I possessed a wealth of old-world survival knowledge. Second, the fragile man sleeping on my stone bed wasn't just a dying invalid. Why would an elite silver wolf warrior with terrifying, suppressed power hide among the lowest of the low? I didn't care about his secrets. Looking at the barren dirt behind our rundown shelter, I handed him a stone hoe. While the rest of the camp waited for us to die, we were going to build an impenetrable underground fortress.

The control panel flashed red as warning lights erupted across the dashboard. My heart skipped a beat, but my hands remained steady on the yoke. "Flight 447, this is Tower. Do you copy?" The radio crackled with static. "We're experiencing mechanical failure," I responded, my voice calm despite the chaos unfolding around me. "Primary systems are going down one by one." The aircraft shuddered violently, metal groaning under pressure. Through the windshield, the city lights blurred as we began an uncontrolled descent. "Lillie, what's happening?" My first officer's voice trembled slightly. "Stay focused," I ordered, already running through emergency protocols in my mind. "We need to manually override the autopilot." The passenger cabin erupted in gasps and cries.