
Mated to The Enemy, Revenge For My Brother
Rosalind Rivers has only ever wanted one thing - revenge.
The Lycan Prince, Aklan Draven, murdered her brother in cold blood. Or so she's believed her whole life. Now, forced to serve under him at the Lycan Academy, she has no choice but to obey the man she swore to hate. But hating him becomes harder with every clash, every stolen glance, every heartbeat that refuses to stay loyal to her rage.
Because fate has a cruel sense of humor.
He's her fated mate.
Aklan doesn't understand why this stubborn, sharp-tongued wolf gets under his skin or why her scent feels like home. He only knows she's trouble. The kind that tests his control, drags buried memories to the surface, and makes him question everything he thought he knew about loyalty and guilt.
But when a hidden truth comes to light - that Rosalind's brother didn't die by Aklan's hand but by choice, their world begins to unravel. Old wounds reopen. Ancient forces stir. And Rosalind learns she is no ordinary wolf, but something far rarer, something worth killing for.
Between vengeance and love, duty and destiny, one wrong move could ignite a war between realms.
And the cruelest part?
She might just lose her heart to the man she was born to destroy.
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Chapter 2
The journey was a smooth one, we got to my new residence of choice a few minutes before the gates were closed for the day. The gates of Norsen Military Academy rose like the jaws of some ancient beast-iron and carved stone, etched with runes older than my bloodline.
My father hopped out first and opened the trunk. "Leave the heavy ones. I've got them," he said, already hauling out my overstuffed bags like they weighed nothing. I grabbed the smaller pack and my weapons case before he could insist on those too.
The academy building loomed ahead-gray stone, banners hanging from the high arches, students in various uniforms milling about. My father walked beside me, carrying most of my belongings with that silent, stubborn pride he always wore like armor. We pushed through the massive doors into the front hall.
The front desk was manned-ruled, actually by a woman who looked like she had sour mangoes for breakfast. She didn't bother to glance up when we approached.
"Hi, good afternoon." I say, flashing a polite smile at the woman behind the desk.
She raised her head and gave me a once-over. "You can leave sir. I believe the admission for your child did not include a plus one ticket."
Okay! Rude.
My father paused. "I'd like to make sure my daughter settles in first."
She didn't even look at him when she said, "She won't. Please escort yourself out."
My father grabbed my shoulder like I was twelve years old again. "I have to leave now Peanut. Are you sure you will be okay? Do you really want to stay here?"
Before I could open my mouth to reassure my father that I would be fine, the woman cut in again.
"It would be best if you take Little Peanut back home with you, this is no place for weaklings."
"Can I just talk to my daughter in peace, please?"
The woman looked up from her frantic typing and gave a disdainful smirk.
My anger reached a boiling point, but I had to stay composed. "I am fine Dad, I promise."
His jaw worked once, twice, like he was chewing down something he'd rather spit. "Are you sure?"
"I've got it," I promised. "Besides, Mom will laugh at us if I follow you back home."
"Make the Rougeworth name proud," he murmured.
"I will," I said.
He huffed out a breath that might've been a laugh in a gentler world. He cupped the back of my head, pressed a kiss to my forehead, the same way my mother had that morning.
"May the moon goddess be with you."
He squeezed my shoulder and walked away reluctantly, glancing back once before disappearing through the doors.
The instant he was gone, I turned back to the desk. "I need my dorm assignment."
I was met with nothing but silence.
I tried again. "My arrival papers were-"
Still nothing. The woman didn't so much as twitch; it was as if I was talking to a ghost. She kept typing and humming a sick tune of the witch's red Christmas.
My palms itched in annoyance. My wolf, Cara, weak as she was, snarled in the back of my bone, but there was nothing I could do; I had to get assigned by this woman.
Just then, another student approached the desk, a tall fae girl with a mass of braids and inked markings down her neck. She dipped her head and said, clear as day, "Greetings of the Nine Realms."
The desk-witch looked up instantly, smiling like she suddenly remembered she had teeth.
Fucking hypocrite.
"And to you," she purred, dragging it out to prove a point to me. "How may I assist, Miss Valenna?"
I watched the exchange with a slow, simmering disbelief.
The minute the fae girl left, I stepped forward again.
I inhaled. "Greetings of the Nine Realms."
Her gaze snapped up finally , irritation briefly flashing in her eyes before she covered it with a smile so tight it could have sliced bread.
"Student code?"
I recited it without missing a beat. "ROG-S17-042."
She scanned her records, then called out, "Rosalind Rougeworth. You are to stay at the East Wing quarters. You will be sharing Dormitory Five with Elsie Wood and Ferna Pecker. Your academy orientation starts at twelve, noon tomorrow. Your necessary uniforms will be given to you by your assigned counsellor. If you have other questions, I do not care. You are an adult, figure it out yourself."
"Thank you," I said flatly, hoping she got a toe stubble for her meanness.
She looked at me all over again, her nose wrinkling just a little as she looked from her computer to me. "Combat and war strategy? You?"
"Yes."
Her lips parted in a dry laugh. "You should have left with your father, Little Peanut."
I smiled with all the grace of a drawn blade. "I will keep that in mind."
I gathered my things and turned without waiting for dismissal. If I had to wait one more minute while she talked me down, her face would be introduced to the wall.
The halls of the East Wing stretched wide, banners of each realm's faction lining the walls. Lycans, Fae, Elves, Warlocks, Vampyrs, werewolves and more. The air pulsed with magic and tension and something that felt like destiny waiting to happen to everyone who stepped their foot into this place. It was surreal, and I had made it here, where the best of the nine realms learned to fight and protect their own.
By the time I found the stairwell leading to the dorms, my arms were aching. I shifted one bag higher on my shoulder and silently cursed whoever designed a school this big without lifts.
"You look like you're about to drop dead," a voice piped up behind me.
I turned and saw a big pair of eyes staring at me.
She was tinier than me, I didn't think that was physically possible until now, maybe up to my shoulder if she tiptoed, she had moon-pale skin, silver hair braided down her back, and ears that curved into elegant, unmistakable points.
An elf.
She blinked those big lilac eyes at me. "Are you... lost? Or just stubborn?"
I had seen elves many times at the city markets outside Rougestead, my home, but not like this, not this up close and certainly not as friendly as she seemed.
My grandmother always warned me about elves before she passed. She said they were sneaky creatures and could not be trusted; they were the biggest manipulators in the realm, and I had always managed to keep my distance until now.
"Both," I said, regaining my composure. "I'm new, this is my wing. I'm looking for Dormitory Five."
Her face lit up like festival lanterns. "You are ours!"
Before I could react, she threw her arms around me in a surprisingly strong hug that smelled faintly of honey and coconut.
Okay, too much physical contact.
"I'm Elsie Wood," she declared, already grabbing one of my bags like she had been assigned as my handler. "Come on, before Ferna pounces on you from a balcony or something."
"Is Ferna... dangerous?" I asked, concerned.
Elsie snorted. "Only emotionally. But you would love her."
We climbed one flight of stairs, then another, and my legs begged me to rest, until she stopped at a door with a hand-painted number five and several scorch marks on the wall beside it.
When she pushed the door open, I lost all composure, my heart lurched, and I screamed.
The floor was a river. A real one or at least it looked like a real one. The water was rushing, dark and moving fast, with three crocodiles glaring up at me like I was their brunch.
My heart shot into my throat as one crocodile opened its mouth towards me. All of my bravado was reduced to nothing, and I froze so hard that one of my bags slid off my shoulder.
Elsie heaved a sigh and yelled, "Ferna! Stop with the illusions. End it!"
A voice called back, "I am protecting us from strangers who could want to come into our dorm!
They could be spies!"
Oh, great, just what I needed. A psychotic dorm mate.
"She's our roommate, you maniac! You are scaring her!"
The river vanished in an instant
In its place was a perfectly normal wooden floor, slightly scuffed, with a plush wolfskin rug that led to three separate rooms.
Footsteps padded on the wooden floor, then she appeared.
Ferna Pecker.
Beautiful didn't even cover it. She looked like someone dipped a goddess in honey, gold, and silk.
Her hair has slight streaks of pink, peach, lilac, silver, and purple, like the theme for her look was cotton candy. Her eyes were bright amber and looked golden when the rays of the sun hit her face; her smile was wide enough to qualify as a weapon.
She looked chaotic, but I had never seen chaos look so elegant, breathtaking. So coordinated.
She bounced over and enveloped me in a hug that nearly knocked the air from my lungs. "You're finally here!"
My shitty luck. I just had to be roomed with huggers.
I blinked, wondering what she meant. "Finally?"
"Elsie and I have been waiting for you for two weeks!" she declared. "We thought maybe you had died or gotten eaten by mountain trolls or eloped with a goblin."
Yes, this one is definitely a lunatic.
"I had to take care of something at home first," I said, still trying to keep up.
Ferna shrugged like that was perfectly reasonable. "Good. Now you are here, and I had already decided we are going to be best friends."
Yay me.
Elsie groaned, rolling her eyes. "You say that about everyone."
"Yes," Ferna said cheerfully, looping her arm through mine. "But this time, I mean it."
I looked between the two of them, they looked harmless, kind even but I did not come to Norsen to start friendships, I was here on a mission. To get stronger so I could enact my revenge on the man that stole the sun from me. And I was not going to let anyone or anything get in my way
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9.1
Waking up with a cold, scaly hand wrapped around my throat wasn't the worst part.
The worst part was realizing I'd transmigrated into the body of Terra Mason—the most despised woman in the entire Enclave. She drugged high-level beast-men and forced them into life-binding bio-contracts. She locked an aquatic warrior in a dry basement until his organs failed. She treated the most lethal males in the city like broken toys.
Zev, the Level 6 serpent who's currently choking me, would rather blow up his own heart than spend another day as my slave. His affection metric? Negative ninety. His trust? Zero.
Then my system activates: the Kore AI. It gives me exactly 500 credits, a medical nano-gel, and a recipe for neutralizing the radioactive poison in mutant meat. Real food. In this world, that's worth more than gold.
I save Rhys, the dying aquatic male everyone left for dead. I season a slab of purple mutant steak until Sam, a battle-scarred grizzly shifter, groans at the taste—and his trust points finally tick above zero. When my backstabbing ex-best friend tries to steal my males and destroy me, I don't scream or throw a tantrum like the old Terra. I dismantle her with the truth.
But earning their trust means more than grilling meat. A scorpion swarm ambushes us at midnight. Sam throws himself between me and a stinger the size of my arm. As he stands over the corpse, fur receding from his claws, he stares at me and whispers, "You were testing me."
Yes. I was. Because in this world, the weak don't survive. And I refuse to be weak again.
Four beast-men. Four contracts. One system. And a whole lot of steak. Let this dystopian wasteland know—I'm not the monster they remember. I'm worse. I'm the one who's going to feed them until they'd kill for me.

7.9
Hannah came home under a false identity, ready to keep her head down and avoid trouble. Then a near-drowning opened her eyes, and the family she had wanted gave her nothing but disappointment.
She severed every tie, shed the disguise, and rose in revenge as a miracle doctor, brilliant hacker, and feared underworld ruler. Shock followed her family at every turn.
Her parents regretted everything. Her eldest brother clung desperately to the bond of their shared blood, while her second brother gave up his entire fortune just to earn her forgiveness. Her third brother offered up his own body for a surgery-all to save her.
But Hannah stayed cold and built her empire alone. Only one deadly rival refused to be ignored.
"I was hired to kill you, mister."
"Then take my heart, too."

7.7
Five years ago, Zaria Blackthorne lost everything. Framed as a traitor's daughter, she watched her parents die, was betrayed by her fated mate, Callum Nightbane, and cast into prison-only to be saved by a monster who wanted to ruin her. That night, she should have died. But fate had other plans.
Now, she's back. No longer the naïve girl who once begged for mercy, she has been reborn as Celeste Draven, the temptress of Nightbane Academy. With a new identity, a rare bloodline that makes her irresistible, and a body forged for seduction, she is ready to dismantle the lives of those who betrayed her-one sinful encounter at a time.
But revenge comes at a cost.
Three powerful men are obsessed with her and they are a tool in her revenge games and then she realised the deeper she played, the harder it becomes to keep the men in control.
And what do you think will happen when the truth comes to light, and she discovered she was being played herself? Will she sacrifice her love for vengeance or allow her enemies to burn and claim the throne for herself?
Dive into this story of betrayal, revenge, reverse haram, and obsession, where no man actually owns Zaria Blackthorne.

9.5
Seven words
9.5
Mara Vance never expected her life to shatter in an instant. But one late-night message-seven careless words never meant for her-exposes the truth her fiancé thought he'd buried.
"She won't suspect anything tonight."
Betrayal should have broken her.
Instead, it sharpened her.
While Marcus scrambles to keep his perfect image intact, Mara begins a quiet, calculated unraveling of everything he cherishes. Not loud. Not messy. No screaming, no scenes. Just a slow, elegant destruction designed to make him question his reputation... his future... and eventually, his sanity.
As old loyalties shift and hidden secrets crawl into the light, Mara discovers that revenge isn't a moment-it's a strategy. And the sweetest payback is the kind no one sees coming until it's far too late.
Seven words ended her trust.
Now seven thousand unspoken plans will end his world.
A tense, intoxicating story of love turned weapon-where the real damage is done in silence.

9.3
"She's mine tonight, asshole, you had her last week." Zack, taller and broader, with those piercing blue eyes, shoved him back hard. "Fuck off, Zade. Her tight little pussy belongs wrapped around my dick." And then there was Mark, my stepdad, looming in the doorway like a goddamn predator, his arms crossed over his broad chest. "Both of you back the fuck off. I'm the man of the house and that sweet ass is mine to pound whenever I want."
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Dive into this sizzling erotica collection of taboo tropes where forbidden flames erupt in shadows of power and secrecy. Stepfamily sparks fly between a seductive step sis and stepbrothers under one tense roof. Mythical beasts knot with innocent human girls in primal forest trysts. A mafia kingpin claims a pure-hearted nun in a ruthless game of dominance. Captor hunts prey in a thrilling chase of possession. "Dad's Best Friend" awakens cravings in his ally's daughter, shattering loyalty. "Boss x Stripper" ignites when an executive ensnares his hypnotic dancer in high-stakes control. "Professor X Student," where forbidden mentorship spirals into obsessive bonds in lecture halls after dark. "Coach x Cheerleader," rigorous drills turn into steamy locker room rituals after hours. "Priest x Parishioner," sacred confessions unravel into sinful midnight vows.
Read if you're ready for some heat.

9.6
Chloe Decker has spent her whole life trying to stay out of trouble especially the kind that rides a motorcycle, wears a leather jacket, and smirks like the world belongs to him. Unfortunately, that trouble has a name: Alfie. They go to the same school, live in the same town, and hate each other with a passion that could burn down the world. He's the arrogant son of the Black Fangs MC President, while she's the quiet girl who wants nothing to do with the club or its reckless members. But when a cruel prank, a dangerous secret, and one unexpected night throw them together, Chloe's world begins to unravel. Alfie isn't just the ruthless biker everyone fears he's also the boy who can't stop looking at her like she's the only thing keeping him alive. Every fight between them feels like a spark. Every touch feels like a threat. And soon, their hate turns into something much darker and much harder to control. In a world filled with roaring engines, loyalty, and betrayal, love was never supposed to happen especially not between enemies. But fate has other plans, and Chloe will soon discover that sometimes, the most dangerous hearts are the ones that were meant for you all along.