Seven Miscarriages For My Mate
For ten years, I was bound to Julian, my heart tied to a wolf who promised me forever. Seven miscarriages scarred me, each loss cutting deeper. Pregnant again, I trusted Julian-until I saw him with my sister Chloe, cradling their secret pup. Betrayed by him and my family, I survived a fire meant to kill me, saved by healer Lucas. With him, I reclaimed my dance and found true love. Facing Julian's regret and Chloe's vengeance, I built a new life, holding my child, my scars finally healing.
Chapters
Share
Chapter 1
For ten years, I've been bound to Julian Frost, my heart tethered to a wolf who promised me forever. Seven times, I've lost a pup, each miscarriage carving a deeper wound. This time, though, I'm carrying again, and Julian's adamant I stay away from the healer's den. Too many folks, too much chaos, he says-someone might bump into me, risk the pup. To keep me safe, he even pulled strings to bring a healer from Belmor Town right to our doorstep.
I trusted him. I always did.
Until I saw him, clear as day, slipping out of the birthing ward with my sister, Chloe Hartman, who's been missing for three years. His arm was gentle around her, protective, like she was the fragile one. My heart stuttered, my world tilting as I watched Chloe cradle a sleeping pup, her eyes glistening with tears as she looked up at Julian.
"Julian," she whispered, voice thick, "our first pup is finally here. All those times Sophia lost hers. it wasn't for nothing."
Her words hit like a blade. "You hid me all these years, kept me under her nose so I could bring this pup into the world. It must've cost you so much."
"I've got no right to raise this pup," she went on, choking up. "I just want to stay close, even if it's as a servant, just to watch him grow."
Julian's face was stone, his silence heavy before he spoke. "You've been in the shadows too long, Chloe, not even able to feel the sun on your face. I'm sorry for that."
"Sophia's my only true mate," he said, his voice firm. "I gave her status, a place by my side. Letting her lose those pups was the price for you to bear our firstborn. He'll inherit everything I have."
Firstborn? The word froze me, tears spilling like a broken dam. All those pups I lost. they weren't accidents. They were sacrifices for their pup. Chloe's disappearance? A lie. Julian didn't send her away-he hid her, sheltered her, so they could carry on in secret.
"Chloe!"
My parents' voices snapped me out of my haze. They stepped down from a rugged pack jeep, their eyes brimming with concern-not for me, but for her. They wrapped her in their arms like she was the one who'd been shattered.
"You've been through so much," Mom said, her voice soft as she studied Chloe's pale face. "Birthing a pup is like dancing with death. Come home, sweetheart. Dad's already got a trustworthy nanny lined up for you."
Chloe's eyes shimmered with gratitude. "I thought you'd disowned me," she murmured, voice breaking. "I've been so unworthy."
Mom's voice cracked. "You're not my blood, Chloe, but I raised you. No parent holds a grudge forever. Seeing you suffer cuts me deeper than you know. Be a good mother now, no more recklessness."
Chloe nodded, but hesitated before climbing into the jeep. "Can I really come home? Sophia will be furious. Maybe I should just go back to my rundown apartment."
Dad didn't miss a beat. "Don't worry. We've got it figured out. If Sophia loses this pup, she won't be able to carry another. Then your pup will be the only one left. She'll have to accept him, like it or not."
Mom chimed in, "She should've let go of her grudge by now. You've paid your price."
"Come on, pup," Dad said gently. "Let's go home."
They climbed into the jeep, a perfect little family, leaving me standing alone, hollowed out. I watched the vehicle fade into the distance, my knees buckling as sobs tore through me. I collapsed, the world blurring.
Just months ago, when I found out I was carrying again, everyone was over the moon. Julian's eyes were red as he touched my belly with trembling hands. Dad handed out bonuses to the pack's drivers and staff, grinning like a fool. Mom, who never believed in anything, knelt in a temple for hours, thanking the spirits for their blessing.
But now? Chloe's borne Julian's pup, and my parents are in on the lie. Me and the pup in my belly-we're just extras, never enough to hold their hearts.
A sharp pain stabbed through my stomach, but it was nothing compared to the ache in my chest. I'm their true daughter, yet they all flock to the she-wolf who stole my place for years.
Ten years ago, when the Hartmans found me, I went from a village nobody to the daughter of a pack leader, promised to a striking, ambitious wolf-Julian. I was thrilled. But Chloe? She couldn't stomach being the false heir. She made it her mission to torment me.
The day I arrived at the Hartman den, she pushed me down the stairs when our parents weren't looking. Fifteen stitches on my forehead. When my name was added to the pack's records, she lured me to a backwater village, nearly leaving me to a filthy old wolf's clutches. Time and again, she tried to break me.
But I survived. I thought I'd earned my happy ending, that the worst was behind me. Then, on the day Julian and I were bound, Chloe escaped from lockup and came for me. She drove a beat-up car straight at me. I dodged death by inches, but my legs were shattered, my dreams of dancing with the pack's troupe crushed.
Dancing was my life. From the village to Belmor Town, I poured my soul into it. Staring at the ugly scars on my legs, I wanted to end it all, more times than I can count.
Then I felt a pup growing inside me. For the first time, I wept with joy, dreaming of a tiny soul tied to me by blood.
But at three months, I lost it. Blood poured out, and my heart emptied with it. Three days later, Julian found Pennyroyal in Chloe's room-the poison that killed my pup. She admitted it, casual as if it meant nothing.
Dad had a heart attack from the rage. Mom cried rivers, saying Chloe owed me too much. Julian nearly put a bullet in her. I stopped him, not wanting him to carry that weight.
To make it right, he banished Chloe to some remote village to reflect for life. Or so I thought. Word came she'd vanished, and despite Mom and Dad's efforts, she was gone.
I believed it was over. For years, it was just me in their eyes-Julian, Mom, Dad. Julian brought home little gifts after his shifts: flowers, jewelry, books I loved. No matter how late or dangerous his missions, he always sent a message. Dad pulled strings to get me a cushy job. Mom baked my favorite treats daily.
I thought I'd finally made it, that the pain was behind me. But it was all a ruse to keep me from digging into Chloe's crimes, to keep me waiting while she bore Julian's pup.
Chloe. Always Chloe.
The more I thought about it, the more I laughed through my tears. What was I to them all these years?
"Ma'am!"
Julian's guard rushed up, holding out a telegram. "From Julian."
You may also like
8.8
The Offering of the Blood Moon
In the savage and intoxicating kingdom of the Legion, the Blood Moon does not simply rise it awakens a hunger that demands to be satisfied... by flesh, by fire, by fate.
Kiana was raised to hate the beasts and fear the shadows, to believe that being taken meant losing everything. But when she is torn from her village and delivered into the arms of Silas, the Alpha King, she discovers the truth is far more dangerous
Her greatest threat is not death.
It's the way her body betrays her in his presence.
Silas is dominance carved into living form iron muscle, quiet authority, and a darkness that wraps around her like a slow, suffocating promise. He is a king who does not ask, He takes,He commands, He owns, Yet the one woman who should fall at his feet dares to meet his gaze, challenge his control, and ignite something wild beneath his carefully restrained power.
And Silas... does not walk away from what tempts him.
Their connection is immediate. Violent. Addictive.
Every clash of words burns hotter than the last. Every step closer feels like crossing a line neither of them can uncross. The tension between them coils tight, thick with heat and unspoken hunger, until even the air feels too heavy to breathe.
In the quiet shadows of the royal chambers, where the moonlight spills like liquid silver across bare skin, resistance begins to crack. The scent of cedar and rain clings to him as he closes in, his presence overwhelming, his touch slow and deliberate-like he already knows exactly how she'll respond.
And she does.
Every time.
His hands don't just touch they linger. Claim. Promise.
Every brush of his lips is not gentle... it's consuming.
And when his mouth finds the sensitive curve of her neck, Kiana's defiance falters, her breath catching as something deeper, darker, and far more dangerous rises to the surface an aching, restless need she cannot fight, no matter how hard she tries.
Because this is not just desire.
It is a bond that burns.
A pull that tightens.
A hunger that refuses to be denied.
Yet the closer they get, the more dangerous the line becomes.
Between control... and surrender.
Between hatred... and craving.
Between captor... and something far more consuming.
Because under the Blood Moon, nothing is ever halfway.
And once you're claimed...
There is no escape.
9.8
Aurora Vale was trained to be a weapon beautiful, precise, and disposable. Recruited as a teenager into a covert intelligence division that officially doesn't exist, Aurora has spent her life seducing secrets out of powerful men and destroying targets without ever pulling a trigger. Cold. Calculated. Untouchable. Inside the agency, she is known as The Steel Heart an operative who never fails and never feels.
Until her latest mission. Her target is Valerio Blackthorn, an untouchable crime lord feared even by governments brilliant, disciplined, and impossible to trap. Assigned as his personal bodyguard, Aurora is meant to get close, extract information, and deliver him to a massive takedown operation.
What she doesn't know is that Valerio has already seen the trap. Instead of exposing her, he lets her stay watching, testing, dismantling her carefully crafted tactics with unsettling calm. As the line between hunter and prey blurs, Aurora begins to realize the truth: Valerio is not the monster she was sent to destroy. And the government she serves is far more corrupt than the criminal world she was trained to infiltrate.
When Aurora discovers that the mission is not about justice but about silencing a former ally who refused to be controlled she makes an impossible choice. She betrays the agency. She saves the man she was meant to destroy.
Now branded a rogue agent with a kill on sight order, Aurora is forced into the shadows alongside Valerio. Hunted by her own government and by a ruthless international syndicate seeking revenge, the two must survive a war where trust is dangerous, love is lethal, and freedom comes at a devastating price.
As bullets fly and secrets explode onto the global stage, Aurora must decide who she truly is a weapon, a traitor, or a woman reclaiming her soul. In a world ruled by lies and power, love may be the most dangerous rebellion of all.
9.7
"How do I tell the world that my first orgasm came from my father's son-my brother, and he doesn't know yet?"
Annabel Green, who had caught her first ever lover, James, in bed with Stephanie, her best friend, went on a mission of revenge.
After she found out that the man who she bumped into at the club that night she caught her ex cheating, is actually Stephanie's fiancé-Daniel stroke.
She planned on using him as a tool just to make James regret cheating on her and drive Stephanie insane.
But she had no idea that Daniel was her father's son. By the time she had gotten her revenge, only then did they realize how late it was, because they had both fallen hopelessly in love.
Now the question is who will let each other go? Will Daniel and Annabel agree to part ways just to see their parents happy. Or will their parents actually get a divorce in order to see their children live a happy life?
8.1
I died once. Betrayed, broken, and discarded by the most powerful man in New York.
Now, I'm back. Reborn on the very day my husband, Dante Moretti, handed me an expulsion agreement. But this time, I know his secret. The coldness in his eyes isn't cruelty; it's a slow-acting poison, a betrayal creeping through his veins, fed to him by those closest to him.
This time, I don't cower. I meet his icy command with a slap and an ultimatum: I carry his heir. To cast me out is to sentence his own bloodline to death.
He is the untouchable Don, a king on a poisoned throne, fighting a war within his own mind. I am the ghost of the queen he tried to break, armed with the memories of our enemies' every move.
I won't be a pawn in their game again. I will dismantle them all, from my treacherous sister to the viper he calls a mother. I will be the queen he needs, even if he fights me every step of the way.
It's a vendetta.
7.5
It took seven years for Ethan to convince me I was the center of his universe, and exactly seven weeks for his "business partner," Chloe, to prove I was just a placeholder.
I was the woman who ironed his shirts and managed his schedule, yet she was the one he comforted at 2 AM.
But the real end didn't come with a fight. It came with an explosion.
At a family gathering, a gas heater malfunctioned. Glass shattered, and fire erupted. In that split second of life or death, Ethan didn't look for me.
He threw his body over Chloe.
He shielded her from the flames, cocooning her in his arms, whispering frantically to her while I stood twenty feet away, watching my boyfriend of seven years act like I didn't exist.
When I confronted him later, he didn't apologize. Instead, he let Chloe carve her initials over ours on our anniversary tree.
When I tried to stop them, he shoved me into the dirt to comfort her over a broken nail.
"You are dead to me, Ava," he screamed. "Jealousy makes you ugly."
He thought I would beg. He thought I was an appliance he could unplug and plug back in whenever he wanted. He was arrogant enough to believe I would always be there, waiting for his scraps.
He was wrong.
While he was playing hero to his mistress, I didn't cry.
I booked a one-way ticket to Portland, snapped my SIM card in half, and vanished.
By the time he realized the silence in his apartment wasn't peace, but abandonment, I was already gone.
9.2
My husband, Roger Harvey, was a renowned top-tier lawyer in the industry, but he could never remember anything outside of his cases.
He never remembered my birthday or our wedding anniversary.
Every night he stood at the bedroom door and asked politely yet distantly, "Is this the one?"
He could not even remember my name or what I looked like.
To make him "remember" me, I hung our wedding photo on the wall with a label underneath. "Anniversary: May 20."
I put a nameplate on the bedroom door that read "Bedroom."
I even labeled everything in the house with sticky notes that explained in detail how to use each item and its background.
I thought it was a side effect of his high-pressure job, so I never complained.
That changed the day a multi-car pileup sent both me and his childhood friend, Sylvie Gordon, into the emergency room at the same time.
He rushed frantically to Sylvie's bedside and shouted in a clear, urgent voice, "She has tachycardia. She caught a cold last month but no fever."
The nurse handling the rescue grabbed him and asked, "Sir, your wife is also seriously injured. Does she have any medical history or allergies?"
He turned his head, looked at me covered in blood, and shook his head blankly. "I don't remember."
In that moment I finally understood. He was not forgetful. His memory was astonishingly sharp.
He simply reserved that precise, precious memory for someone else.
Everything about me he had never cared to keep in his heart.
This was a dramatic tug-of-war between love and betrayal.
It was a heart-wrenching journey of self-redemption.
Yet when I decided to leave, he was suddenly filled with panic...