Reborn Princess: Burning Her Scornful Crown
I spent three years trying to be the perfect Crown Princess, enduring my husband Bradley's coldness while pouring my family's fortune into his royal projects. I truly believed our marriage was built on duty and that our adopted son, Jimmie, was the bond that held us together.
Everything changed on a stormy night when I caught Bradley in his study, calmly watching my family's trust fund documents-the entire Orozco legacy-burn to ash in the fireplace. He didn't even look guilty as he explained that I was never his partner, only a convenient bank account for the Crown.
When I lunged to save the papers, Bradley shoved me to the floor with bored indifference. Then, the ultimate betrayal walked through the door: Jimmie. My son didn't run to comfort me; he took Bradley's hand and looked at me with pure venom. Bradley sneered, revealing that Jimmie wasn't adopted at all-he was his biological son with my best friend, Icy.
"We just needed you to fund his future," Bradley said.
I was dragged out by guards and thrown into a sedan speeding toward the cliffs. At Dead Man's Curve, the driver jumped out of the moving car, leaving me to plummet into the freezing ocean. As the water filled my lungs and my life faded, I didn't feel fear. I felt a distilled, murderous hate.
I woke up gasping for air in my old bedroom, three years before the crash. It was the day of my fake infertility diagnosis, the beginning of their plan to break me.
"The Fiona who listened to you is dead," I whispered, looking at my reflection.
I didn't cry this time. Instead, I dressed in black and headed into the night to find the only man Bradley feared-the lethal, "boiling-blooded" Regent, Demian Ballard. I was going to save his life, and in return, he was going to help me burn the palace down.
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Chapter 3
The chains rattled with a deafening clank as Demian lunged against them.
"Get out!"
His voice was a shredded roar, barely human. The force of his shout hit Fiona like a physical blow.
She didn't flinch. She didn't step back.
She raised her hands, palms open. "I can help you."
He laughed, a wet, choking sound. "Help? I'll tear your throat out."
The heat radiating from him was intense, battling with the freezing air of the room. He was burning up from the inside out.
"Your heart rate is over two hundred," Fiona said, walking closer. Her boots crunched on the frost covering the floor. "The ice isn't working. The toxin has reached your marrow."
Demian stilled. His head cocked to the side, a predator assessing prey. "Who are you?"
"Does it matter?" Fiona stopped just out of his reach. "I'm the only one who knows how to stop the boiling."
"You're Bradley's wife," he rasped. The recognition flickered in his eyes, cutting through the madness. "The vase. The ornament."
"The ornament is broken," Fiona said flatly. "I'm here to make a deal."
He pulled against the chains again, the metal groaning. "I don't make deals with corpses."
"If you don't let me treat you, you'll be a cripple by morning. Or dead."
Fiona took a step forward. Into the kill zone.
Demian moved faster than she expected. His hand shot out, grabbing her neck.
His fingers were scorching hot. They clamped around her windpipe, lifting her off her feet.
Fiona choked, clawing at his wrist. Her vision spotted.
"Give me one reason," he hissed, pulling her close to his face. She could feel the heat radiating from his skin. "One reason not to snap your pretty little neck."
"Because..." Fiona wheezed, staring straight into those black voids. "Because I hate him... more than you do."
His grip loosened. Just a fraction.
"And," Fiona gasped, "I have the antidote."
She didn't wait for permission. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a silver needle. Before he could react, she jammed it into a pressure point at the base of his skull.
Demian stiffened. His eyes widened.
The tension in his arm vanished. He dropped her.
Fiona fell to the floor, coughing, massaging her bruised throat.
"That will only hold the pain back for five minutes," Fiona said, her voice raspy. "We need to flush the blood."
"How?" He was slumped back on the bed now, breathing heavily. The redness in his skin was pulsing.
Fiona pulled out the scalpel.
"My blood," she said.
It sounded insane. But her grandmother, a practitioner of old medicine, had insisted Fiona take a daily tonic since childhood. A family secret, derived from the rare Blue Lotus, meant to 'strengthen the Orozco bloodline.' Fiona never understood it. But in her past life, after years of research in the palace's forgotten archives, she found a text describing its true purpose: it was the only known natural neutralizer for Pyro-Toxin. Bradley thought her blood was merely blue; he had no idea it was also the cure.
She didn't explain the science. She just sliced.
She drew the blade across her left wrist. A line of crimson welled up, dark and rich.
"Drink," she ordered.
She shoved her bleeding wrist against his mouth.
The smell of blood hit him. His pupils dilated. The beast took over.
He grabbed her arm, his grip bruising, and pulled it to his lips.
He drank.
It was a violation. A somatic, visceral intimacy that made her stomach flip. She could feel his tongue against the wound, the suction, the desperate hunger.
Her head spun. The room tilted.
"Easy," Fiona whispered, her free hand finding its way into his sweat-drenched hair. "Easy, Demian."
She was feeding a monster. She was saving the devil to kill a demon.
Slowly, the heat in the room began to dissipate. The unnatural flush faded from his skin, leaving it pale and clammy.
He stopped.
He pulled back, his chest heaving. There was blood on his lips. Her blood.
His eyes were clearing. The black receded, revealing irises of piercing, icy gray.
He looked at her. Really looked at her.
Fiona was swaying on her feet. The blood loss, combined with the adrenaline crash, was too much.
"You..." he murmured. His voice was deep, resonant. Dangerous.
She collapsed forward.
He caught her. His arms were no longer burning hot; they were just warm. Strong.
"You owe me," Fiona whispered, her cheek pressed against his bare chest. She could hear his heartbeat slowing down. "A life for a life."
Demian's thumb brushed the corner of her mouth.
"Done," he said.
Darkness took her again. But this time, it wasn't the cold darkness of the ocean. It was warm. And safe.
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8.5
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She devoted everything to his recovery, enduring hardship and humiliation to help him stand again.
When he finally recovered, they were praised as perfect together-until danger came.
Faced with saving her or her sister, Jacob chose the latter without hesitation. Only in her final moments did Caroline realize his heart was never hers.
Reborn, she made a different choice, choosing power over love.
When Jacob later begged, she looked down coldly. "I have no interest in men who can't stand on their own."
8.8
Alpha King Sergius of the Northern Territories is cursed to go mad during the seventh blood moon which is just one year away. Pressured into political marriage, he seeks escape at a dingy bar where he meets Fiona, a downtrodden waitress who awakens as his true mate during their one-night stand. His vicious rejection sends her fleeing into the arms of his estranged brother, Alpha Cyprius of the Southern Territories. Years later, when Sergius discovers only his true mate can break the curse, he must win back the woman who now loves his brother.
7.4
BLURB;
They told her she was born to die. They told him he was born to kill. They were both wrong.
Hazel was the perfect sacrifice: poor, powerless, and prepared for the dragon's flame. Prince Dravon was the perfect executioner: ruthless, royal, and bound by duty.
Their first glance which was a magnetic attraction changed everything.
Now, running from a kingdom that wants her blood and a brother who wants his throne, they uncover a horrific secret. The ritual is a key to unlock something ancient vorthar an ancient dragon God. The curse is a cage. And Hazel's rare bloodline containing the blood line of three realms makes her the most dangerous creature in the world the target of a priestess who wants eternal power and a dragon-god who dreams of eternal fire and freedom to rule the whole world.
To save their worlds, Hazel and Dravon must burn the old lies to the ground and forge a new legend from the ashes.
7.0
I was the fated mate of Ryker Blackwood, the future Alpha, but my lack of an awakened wolf made me a pathetic joke to his pack.
Instead of protecting me, he publicly rejected me, chose the manipulative Lilith Vane as his Luna, and locked me in a freezing dungeon.
While the entire pack cheered for their final mating ceremony above, I rotted in heavy chains below.
When a rogue attack killed our unborn pups, I reached out to him in agony, but his voice through our fading bond was like splintered ice.
"Our pups are dead. Don't bother me again."
He didn't care at all. The casual dismissal shattered my inner wolf, and I died in that filthy cell, suffocating on my own despair and a hatred so potent it burned through my last breath.
Until my last moment, I couldn't understand why my absolute devotion was met with such cruel betrayal, and why my fated mate let our children die without a second thought.
Opening my eyes again, I wasn't in the dungeon.
I was back in my seventeenth year, choking on the icy water of the lake Lilith had just pushed me into.
Seeing Ryker's arrogant sneer and Lilith's fake concern on the shore, I didn't cry or beg for his attention like I did in my past life.
This time, I would publicly sever our sacred bond, awaken my true Alpha bloodline, and make them pay for every drop of my blood.
8.6
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However, everything came crashing down when Kayla, Scarlet's best friend, claimed she was pregnant with Alpha Alex's child.
Hurt, betrayed, and angry, Scarlet runs away.
She gets attacked by rogues but is saved by Damien, the feared Lycan King, and it is painfully obvious by the sparks flying that they are mates.
Damien, the reclusive Lycan King, is unsure what to do with his mate.
He harbors a dark secret that may threaten to harm her if she chooses to stay with him, but he can't deny the burning attraction and pull he feels to her.
Will Scarlet open up her heart to the possibility of love after having been burned once?
And will Damien find a way around the curse and claim his mate?
Join Damien and Scarlet on their journey of love, sacrifice, and betrayals!!!
8.0
Eloise Ferguson was the legitimate daughter of a powerful Senator, yet she was treated like a hysterical burden by her own family.
In her past life, her parents forced her to marry a sadistic billionaire for political funding.
When she resisted, they locked her in a psychiatric facility, drugged her, and left her to die in restraints while her "fragile" cousin Jaylene stole her life.
She never understood why her mother hated her so fiercely.
Why did her mother treat her brother Cortez and her cousin Jaylene like absolute royalty, while throwing her own flesh and blood to the wolves?
Opening her eyes again, Eloise found herself back at age twenty-two, trapped in a restroom at a charity gala.
Escaping her abuser, she used her awakened mystic abilities to look at her family's life forces.
What she saw made her blood run cold.
Thick, red biological cords connected her mother directly to both Cortez and Jaylene, intertwining in a perfect symbiotic bond.
They weren't cousins. They were illegitimate twins born from her mother's secret affair.
Eloise was the only true outsider in her own home.
The realization hit her like a physical blow. Her entire life of abuse was just a cover-up for a nest of parasites stealing her father's name and her inheritance.
But this time, she refused to be their victim.
Armed with an unchallengeable executive order she blackmailed out of the United States President, Eloise crushed the hidden microphone in her bedroom.
"Game on, Mother."