MARKED BY HIS WOLF
Asha finds herself in the middle of the mating grounds where the mating night is supposed to take place. Confused, and trying to escape a crime she thinks she committed, she runs away from silver Crest pack.
Fate then leads her to a dying stranger at a river bank. Healing him of his wounds, a glitch occurs and now his wolf lives in her.
...
He is the Lycan Lord. But what is a Lycan without his wolf?
Auren is saved by a strange girl who in the process 'steals' his wolf. Because of this, a forced proximity arises between them.
He wants nothing but to get his wolf back.
She wants nothing but to be free, and finally experience what love feels like.
Maybe they could grant each other wishes, maybe.. maybe not.
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Chapter 4
Asha
The arrows keep coming. This time the attackers know what to do. The arrows no longer stop a few feet before us, they now whistle past, nearly grazing us a couple of times.
"Why the hell are these people after you?!" I gasp, my throat burning from too much swallowing.
"That's not for you to find out cupcake," he snaps, his hand still snaked around my waist firmly.
'Those damn rogues! I'll make sure to conjure up a plan to wipe out those fuckers!'
Rogues? Actual rogues?
Okay before you call me stupid, I've only heard of them in stories. I've always imagined them to be a group of homeless, sickly wolves who tried to make a living outside a pack.
I never expected them to be damn good with fucking arrows, in.. a modern era!
And why are they even after the Lycan king?
In that instant, I see a group of masked men clad in black clothes, coming after us, still shooting those arrows.
"I see a group of masked men! You should run faster, they're catching up to us!" I scream.
"Maybe if I threw you to the side, I'd run a lot faster," he hisses.
"What? Don't throw me to the side!" I clutch harder at his collar.
"Stop talking! You're making me lose air you..."
'Oh goodness. I think I might just let an arrow hit me instead.'
"Be nice to me young man. I literally saved your life!" I snap back, tired of his nagging attitude, not caring he's the freaking Lycan king.
"At least shut up?"
I finally keep mute, while he keeps doing wonders with his legs. Somehow, he has increased his pace, I can barely see what's in front of me.
"I think I'm going to die from all this running on your shoulder instead," I gasp. My insides are churning badly, and my head won't stop pounding.
"Don't tempt me into throwing you somewhere," he growls, and sharply turns to the left.
"We lost them!" I spread my arms.
Smack!
My right hand hits a tree branch as the Lycan man waltz by.
"Ow!" I cry, retracting my hands back to a crouched position.
'I can't tell if she's extremely energetic, or extremely dim. I just can't find a trace of smartness in that little head.'
"We just turned a corner, they are still after us and they probably saw where we went."
My jaw drops at his thoughts. Did he just call me a fool? As if he's the smartest thing crawling on the planet.
Suddenly, he throws me to the ground, "We have given them a bit of distance. I believe you can run now."
Still a bit sour from his degrading thoughts, I stand up, and run after him.
"Why am I being dragged into whatever this is?" I throw him a glance.
"Because you decided to be a good kitty, and save my life, stealing my wolf in the process, now I'm sort of powerless against those rogues."
"I didn't even steal you wolf! It probably likes me more that's why it decided to enter my body instead."
He tilts his head to the side, giving me a grimace, "I don't know why I'm helping you even with this sharp mouth of yours."
I roll my eyes, "Think of something that'll get us out of their grasp."
"I'm thinking of something, don't worry."
An arrow waltz past my face, making me jerk, "What the hell?"
"Listen here sharp mouth."
"It's Asha," I hiss back at him.
"Right, Asha. Are you familiar with this place?"
"No," I reply already panting.
"Oh no," he palms his head, "What are you doing here then?"
"Why? Aren't you familiar with this area?"
"Uh.. no."
"Then why are you angry with me? What the fuck?" I scowl at him, dumbfounded at how horridly rude he is.
'We're both under attack, and she knows nothing about this place. Great, what do we do now?'
How's it my fault? I'm a fugitive!
He grabs my hand, "You're a bit too slow for my liking," he yanks me to another sharp turn, and I almost trip over my toes.
"Do you even know where you're going?" I ask, my throat burning with heat of a thousand flames.
"No, and unfortunately for the both of us, my wolf is not in me, so yeah we're hopeless."
"Why didn't you take care of your wolf? Why the fuck is he in me?" I'm frustrated at this point. At this Lycan who's supposed to be king, and more at his wolf for jumping under my skin.
"How am I supposed to know what you did to m–"
We come to a halt over a waterfall.
Great, we're trapped.
"Oh well, I wasn't expecting to die on a random night at just twenty two years old!" I raise my hands in the air, "What a lovely life I lived," I grit my teeth.
The Lycan sighs deeply, his hands on his waist, "A dead end."
He looks to the side where there's a stack of huge rocks. On the opposite side, there's a sort of valley.
"Dear moon goddess, I'm too young to die," I crash to my knees, "Is this a punishment for what I did?"
In that instant, we hear groans, and grunts from behind us.
"They have caught up to us," he groans, his eyes darting between the waterfall, and the valley.
"What do we do?" I grab his leg, "We can't die! I can't die!"
He hisses, grabs my arm, and forces me to my feet, "Stay calm, and let me think!"
"Think about what? The way you want your funeral to go?"
He gives me a side eye, and palms his face, "If you say one more word, I'll bash my head against those rocks, and leave you to your fate."
What a horrible man!
The masked men jump out of nowhere, running towards us.
"We got them cornered! Take the man, and leave the girl alone!" One of them yells.
"Oh no, not today," he yanks me forward, "I hope you can swim?"
Swim? What no I–"
He pushes me down the cliff into the scary waterfall.
"Aghhh! I can't breathe!" I scream, wabbling my hands around.
"Oh my goodness, I'm going to die!" I yell, letting the flowing water into my mouth in torrents.
The pressure of the water on my head, makes my stomach churn badly. The rate at which I'm falling isn't even helping matters.
A strong arm wraps itself around my shoulders, gripping me tight.
"What if I bash my head on rocks? Oh dear moon goddess, when I die please give me a good resting spot, I've been nothing but a mistreated girl from the beginning," I clasp my hands, squeezing my eyes shut.
"I've not even had my first kiss. I don't have a mate, I haven't gotten to live my life to the fullest! Is this how my life ends?" I begin to sob.
Splash!
We plunge into the river below.
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7.2
Title- A Name Without A Past
Author- Abraham Tejiri Onojighofia
Genre: Psychological Suspense Romance / Crime Thriller
Tagline: Memory lies. Danger doesn't..
Larry awakens in an abandoned hospital with no name, no past, and no memories-except one. A woman's face. Her voice. Her presence. The single image floating in the hollow wreckage of his mind is so sharp, so undeniable, that he knows she matters. He doesn't know who he is, but he knows he must find her.
Moments after he escapes the hospital, someone tries to kill him.
Driven by instinct and the one memory he trusts, Larry follows the fragment of recognition until it leads him to Ella Morgan, a composed and fiercely intelligent homicide detective. But instead of relief, he's met with confusion. Ella has never seen him before. According to her, he is a stranger.
But danger arrives before either of them can walk away.
A sudden attack convinces Ella that Larry is not lying-someone wants him dead. And the attempt on his life mirrors the recent string of unsolved murders she is investigating. Against policy and against her better judgment, Ella takes him under temporary protection. Immediately, unsettling cracks begin to appear in her certainty.
Larry recognizes places connected to the case.
He reacts to threats with a trained instinct he can't explain.
And his fragmented flashbacks seem tied to secrets Ella wasn't supposed to uncover.
As they race to piece together his missing identity, a darker truth begins to emerge. Larry's amnesia is no accident. Evidence points to a covert operation, a covered-up crime, and powerful enemies determined to bury the truth permanently. His erased memory may hold the key to a conspiracy that reaches into the police force, the city's elite-and Ella's own past.
With each step closer to the truth, the connection between them deepens. Larry feels drawn to her with an unshakable certainty that defies logic, while Ella fights the pull of a man who may be the missing link to her most dangerous case yet.
But as Larry's memories begin to return, so does a chilling realization:
Ella wasn't just a face in his mind. She was the last person he tried to protect before everything went dark.
Now, the enemies hunting Larry have turned their sights on her.
In a deadly race against a faceless adversary, Larry and Ella must unravel the past he's forgotten before it destroys them both. Because the silence Larry woke up with isn't empty-it's hiding a witness, a secret, and a truth someone is willing to kill to keep buried.
And the closer the truth gets, the more dangerous remembering becomes.
7.8
Detective's Dripping Domination is a darkly sensual erotic thriller set in the fog-choked shadows of Victorian London, where Detective Liora Kane, a 28-year-old vixen with raven hair, storm-gray eyes, and a body that craves forbidden pleasure, hunts a thief stealing lust-inducing artifacts. Her own secret stash of vibrating phalluses and aphrodisiac oils used to finger herself to shuddering org**ms becomes the target of a crimson-sealed summons, scented with musk and laced with her pubic hair, luring her to Blackthorn Manor. There, masked rogue Thorne Blackwood, a chiseled predator with a throbbing, veined cock, ambushes her with brutal domination: pinning her to ravage her dripping pussy, throat-fucking her until drool coats her heaving breasts, and pounding her a*s to squirting climaxes. As clues unravel her husband's death tied to voyeuristic betrayal and a s*x cult's plot to enslave London with cursed relics Liora's investigation becomes a descent into wet, submissive ecstasy. Betrayed by allies, edged by vibrating toys, and reamed in every hole, she faces an impossible choice: expose the conspiracy or surrender to Thorne's relentless shaft, joining his illicit empire. Packed with raw, cum-soaked encounters and suspenseful twists, this tale leaves readers throbbing and drenched, craving more of Liora's gushing surrender.
9.7
Sienna woke up in a hospital room, her body screaming from a severe car accident. Through the glass, a man paced with violent rage, a dark shadow she felt absolutely nothing for.
Her friend Julia burst in, eyes bloodshot, dropping a bomb: "He didn't even try to help you." Dante, Sienna's fiancé, had protected another woman, Valeria, in the crash, leaving Sienna to burn alive.
Her past life unspooled – seven years sacrificed, an architecture degree abandoned, all to serve Dante. Her phone was a shrine to him: his photos, his "taboos," and even "Valeria's preferences," with no trace of Sienna herself.
But amnesia brought no heartbreak, only a cold, calculating fury. She felt disgust for the "idiot" she'd been, stripped of dignity. The memory loss was a release, a blank slate.
With chilling resolve, Sienna deleted every trace of Dante. Ripping out her IV, she declared, "The wedding proceeds." Not for love, but as a weapon: "I need to take back everything that belongs to me before I disappear."
7.3
On our third anniversary, I found out I was pregnant with Alpha Graves's heir, a miracle for my wolfless body.
But when I went to the Grand Hall to share the news, I found him tenderly holding his "dead" first love, Davina. He declared I was just a useless placeholder to appease his grandmother and prepared to sever our mate bond.
He immediately moved Davina into our estate and ordered our marriage portrait torn down. He treated me with absolute cruelty, forcing a toxic herbal brew down my throat that could kill my unborn pup, and even watched coldly as a rival Alpha physically harassed me at a dinner. The entire Pack mocked me as a soon-to-be Rogue, while Graves used his Alpha Command to trap me.
"If you dare leave before I officially complete the Rejection, I will make your home Pack pay."
I gave up my entire life and my design empire to be his devoted wife, only to be thrown out like garbage the moment his true love returned. If he ever found out about the Lycan heir growing inside me, he would surely lock me away and tear my child from my arms.
I won't let him destroy us. I secretly destroyed the pregnancy report and called my best friend. I am accepting his Rejection, taking my baby, and returning to the top of the fashion world as Sloane Todd.
9.8
I traced the floral patterns on the silver candlestick, my fingertips numb from the cold of the penthouse. It was our fifth anniversary, and the Wellington steak I’d spent four hours preparing sat soggy and defeated under the dim chandelier.
Fielding finally walked in at 1:00 AM, smelling of scotch and tuberose—a scent I didn't own. When I tried to touch him, he recoiled as if my fingers were acid, then disappeared into the bathroom where I heard him moan his ex-girlfriend's name with a desperate, guttural longing.
The betrayal didn't end there. The next day, I found him at a luxury restaurant, watching him slide a massive pink diamond onto Corinna’s finger—the same ring he’d told me was a "business investment."
I stood hidden behind a frosted glass partition as his friends laughed, calling me a "lame duck" and a "depressed millstone" around his neck. Fielding didn't defend me; he calmly told them our marriage was just a "debt" he had to pay because I’d saved his life in the crash that ended my ballet career.
"She's a millstone, Fielding. How long are you going to play nursemaid?"
"I owe her. It's a debt. I pay my debts."
When I finally confronted him, he didn't show remorse. Instead, he threatened to use his power to declare me mentally unstable and freeze my grandmother’s trust fund so I’d be left "crippled and penniless" on the street.
I realized then that Fielding didn't want a wife; he wanted a martyr to ease his survivor's guilt, as long as I stayed broken and dependent. He thought he’d clipped my wings for good, but he didn't know I’d been secretly studying for the Sorbonne while he was out with his mistress.
As I put on my designer gown for the charity gala, I wasn't preparing for a party. I was liquidating my jewelry for untraceable cash and planning the ultimate exit.
He thinks I’m his prisoner, but the countdown to my final act has already begun.
8.2
I returned to the city for the only person who ever truly loved me-my dying grandfather. As the "forgettable" daughter of the wealthy Clemons family, I had spent years hiding my true identity as a world-class elite behind oversized hoodies and a silent, exhausted demeanor.
But the welcome home was a nightmare. My family made it clear I was nothing more than a parasite, unaware that I had just saved a powerful stranger's life on the train or that I was the silent partner of the very club they were visiting.
While they sipped champagne in a VIP penthouse I had secretly upgraded for them, they left me standing outside in a freezing downpour for hours. My cousin Belle recorded me, laughing as she called me a "drowned rat" for her social media followers. My father, Glyn, even sent me a formal notice revoking my access to the family trust, thinking he was cutting off my only means of survival. He had no idea my private bank account held eighty-five million dollars. The betrayal cut even deeper when I discovered the darkest truth: they were swapping my grandfather's life-saving medication for cheap generics just to pocket the extra cash.
I stood in the mud, watching the people who shared my DNA celebrate their greed while they slowly killed the man who raised me. How could they be so blind? How could they treat me like trash while they lived off the crumbs of my secret success?
"Enjoy it while it lasts," I whispered against the cold glass. I was done playing the victim and done hiding in the shadows to protect their fragile egos.
I pulled out my encrypted phone and dialed my head of security. As an armored Range Rover pulled up to the curb and the city's most dangerous man watched me from the shadows, I realized I was done being the "charity case." It was time to show the Clemons family who really owned this city.