Raising the Wolves

On our sixth anniversary, I found my fiancé Carter had given my grandmother's heirloom locket to his "fragile" colleague, Carmen. When I confronted him, he slapped me across the face. He then dragged me out into the snow, forcing me to my knees to apologize to Carmen for upsetting her. The stress and his violence triggered a miscarriage. I was losing our baby right there at his feet. He never even noticed the blood staining the snow. He was too busy comforting the woman he chose over me and our child. I left that night and never looked back. Three years later, after building a new life and a successful bakery, he showed up on my doorstep, a ghost of a man, dying of cancer. He collapsed, coughing up blood at my feet, begging for a forgiveness I no longer had to give.

I was supposed to hate him. He destroyed my kingdom. Killed my family. Made me a slave. But when Prince Daresh looks at me with those burning blue eyes-eyes that can hear my every thought-I feel something I shouldn't. Desire. He's the most dangerous demon in the realm. Silver-haired, ruthless, and feared by everyone-even his own brothers. They say he has no heart. No mercy. So why does he look at me like I'm the only thing that matters? When I try to escape, he saves me. When I'm broken, he pieces me back together. And when his enemies come for me, he'll burn the entire demon realm to the ground to keep me safe. But our love is forbidden. I'm human. He's a demon prince with a secret that could destroy us both. And the life growing inside me? It might be the most dangerous thing of all. In a world where fire and water destroy each other, we're about to prove that some bonds are unbreakable. A dark paranormal romance featuring a possessive demon prince, a defiant human princess, forbidden magic, and a love that will set the realm on fire.

To save my family's dying company, I was forced to marry a billionaire I hadn't seen in fourteen years. But right outside the City Clerk's office, he tossed our marriage certificate at me like a cheap receipt and shoved a four-year-old boy into my arms. "Your new life has begun. You're on babysitting duty now." He sneered and left me stranded on the sidewalk. I realized with absolute horror that my new husband was Ellsworth Marshall, the sickly boy I had relentlessly bullied in middle school. He didn't spend five billion dollars to save the Bradford family. He bought me to execute a slow, suffocating revenge. He used his orphaned nephew as a pawn, explicitly threatening my father that if I failed to play the perfect, compliant nanny, he would instantly destroy our family's legacy. He even had his guards lock me out of his Long Island estate on my first night, forcing me to stand in the cold dark just to prove he owned me. I was trapped in a gilded cage, suffocated by the guilt of my past and the terror of my present. Why did he involve an innocent child in his twisted vendetta? How much humiliation was enough to pay for my childhood cruelty? Looking at the terrified little boy clinging to my skirt, I tightened my grip on my suitcase. If he wanted to destroy my will piece by piece, I had to find a way to survive the monster I created.

I was born with a curse. I see a shimmering, crimson timer above everyone's head, counting down to the exact moment of their death. For this, my family has treated me like a monster for eighteen years, blaming me for every tragedy I foresaw. On my 21st birthday, the timer finally appeared above my own head. I had twenty-four hours left to live. I spent my last day preparing a feast, a desperate plea for one final family dinner. With only minutes to spare, I called my eldest brother, Fredrick, my voice breaking. "Please, just come home," I sobbed. "I'm going to die tonight." His response was colder than the grave. "Are you really so desperate for attention that you'd stoop to such pathetic lies?" Then, I heard the click of the line going dead. I died alone at that table, surrounded by the food no one came to eat. But my death wasn't the end. It was the beginning of their nightmare, a personal hell of guilt they could never escape.

After her husband’s betrayal, a woman discovers a horrifying truth: his mistress has literally stolen her skin. Trapped in a nightmare where her identity has been physically usurped, she must navigate a world that no longer recognizes her. This chilling tale blends domestic suspense with body horror as the protagonist fights to reclaim her life from the monster living in her house. Can she expose the imposter before her existence is erased forever?

I had served as the private medical counsel for the Huff family for five years, keeping their scandals buried and their blood pumping. But at the Cipriani gala, standing under a storm of camera flashes, I realized I was just a smudge of ink on their golden canvas. My twenty-year-old niece, Ainsley, looked me up and down with a sneer and pointed at my throat. She demanded I hand over the emerald pendant—the only thing my grandmother left me—because it would "pop" better against the gold gown of her father’s new media darling, Harlow. I turned to Grafton, the man whose neurodegenerative condition I had personally managed in secret, waiting for him to act like a human being. He didn't even blink. He just leaned in and hissed, "Give it to her, Katharina. Don't make a scene. Fix this." After I handed over the necklace and walked out, the retaliation was instant. Within ten minutes, my credit cards were declined, my biometric access was revoked, and the concierge I had tipped for a decade blocked me from entering my own home. Grafton told me I’d be destitute and starving within a week. They all thought I was a family charity case, a leech clinging to the Huff name for prestige. They had no idea that I had spent years quietly securing the intellectual property rights to their most profitable drugs under my maiden name. They didn't know that I was "The Broker," an underground medical legend with a bank account that dwarfed their trust funds. I watched from the shadows as Grafton’s health began to crumble without my specialized injections and their stock price went into a tailspin. They thought they could erase me, but you can't delete the person who holds the structural integrity of your life together. When the panicked calls finally started coming, I didn't answer. I wasn't interested in a settlement or an apology anymore. I was busy using my offshore funds to buy up their crashing shares, ready to take back the empire they thought they had kicked me out of.