The Reborn She-wolf
Daphne Sinclair, the "prized she-wolf" of House Sinclair, is bound to Theodore Ashford, heir of the Ashford pack, in a bitter, hate-filled union. After being tortured and killed by mountain rogues-abandoned by Theodore, her parents, and even her adoptive sister Cordelia-she's granted 10 days back to sever her earthly ties.
Reborn, she finds Theodore celebrating her "death" with Cordelia, the woman he truly loves. Mocked as a liar and attention-seeker, Daphne is forced to confront the cruelty of those she once begged for love: a mate who sent her a coffin, parents who dismissed her suffering, and a sister who stole her life.
As she races to break free from her obsessions, Daphne uncovers dark truths-her kidnapping, Cordelia's deceit, and the hollow lies of her past. With each shattered bond, she inches toward peace. but Theodore, finally awakening to his loss, refuses to let her go. Can she escape the chains of a love that destroyed her, or will death's second chance trap her forever?
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Chapter 4
I didn't want to intrude on the cozy "family" scene, so I handed my mother's gift to a servant and slipped away to my old bedroom. The room still carried the faint scent of my girlhood. On the wall hung a painting from my tenth birthday, commissioned by my father, Jonathan. It captured the three of us-me, him, and Isobel-before Cordelia came to House Sinclair. My smile in the portrait was bright, unguarded, and my parents' eyes sparkled with pride and love.
I stared at it for a long time, tears welling up. With a deep breath, I pulled out an empty box to pack away these remnants of my past. As I sorted through my things, I realized most of it was tied to Theodore. Eighty-eight gifts I'd given him, all returned. Ninety-nine letters, unopened. A silk pouch I'd pricked my fingers ten times to embroider for him. A luminous glass lantern I'd hunted down. A nine-stringed zither I'd waited ten days in Taldira's royal court to acquire. Each item screamed of how fiercely I'd loved him.
My cold heart stung, like it had been dipped in boiling water. But I packed them all away. If I stopped clinging to these delusions of redemption, those stubborn obsessions couldn't hold me anymore.
When I finished, I left the room. Passing the main hall, I heard the same cheerful chatter. I meant to slip out unnoticed, but then I caught sight of a figure bowing deeply. "Jonathan, Isobel, I'm Killian Crowhurst, here to wish you a happy birthday."
His voice hit me like a thunderbolt, freezing me in place. That voice-it belonged to the rogue leader who'd tortured me for three days, ripping out my fingernails. I could still feel the chains biting into my wrists and ankles, his dagger lifting my chin. "House Sinclair's prized she-wolf," he'd sneered. "Soft as silk but tougher than a brothel girl."
I'd never forget that voice or the searing pain of his blade slicing my skin.
My face drained of color, my body trembling uncontrollably. The box in my hands crashed to the floor.
The laughter in the hall stopped dead. All eyes turned to me. Jonathan's face darkened. "Daphne! Skulking around like that-what trouble are you stirring now?"
I stared at Killian, my voice hoarse. "It's him. He's the rogue who kidnapped me."
"Nonsense!" Isobel snapped, her face twisted with anger. "Killian is Cordelia's friend. How dare you slander him?"
Cordelia's eyes flickered with panic before she masked it with concern. She stepped toward me. "Daphne, you must be exhausted. Let me help you to your room."
I yanked my arm away, ready to confront Killian, but Theodore's iron grip clamped onto my wrist, nearly crushing it. His face was a storm of frost. "Daphne! It's your mother's birthday, and you're still playing these ghostly games? Enough!"
Every word was a dagger, piercing my heart. The pain choked me, and I looked at the four of them-Jonathan, Isobel, Cordelia, Theodore-my lips trembling, unable to form another sound.
I'd almost forgotten: no one here would believe me. No one cared if I lived or died.
In a daze, I clutched the box and fled, like a wounded animal running from a trap.
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9.2
Her Bestie's Brother
She only came over to spend time with her best friend-
not to run into her infamous senior brother, the campus playboy everyone warned her about.
Every time she saw him, she felt nothing but disgust.
How could someone who had a sister he adored still treat girls like toys?
But when he walked into the house with a group of girls trailing behind him, her frustration finally snapped-
and she cursed him out without caring who heard.
Then came the day they all hung out, played too much, drank too much...
and the night spiraled into something neither of them ever expected.
A reckless moment.
A passionate night.
A mistake-or something else?
Now, she can't stop asking herself:
Will this change the way she sees him?
And more dangerously... will this change him?
7.4
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.
8.4
My mate, Alpha Santino, brought another woman into our home. She was a pregnant Omega, the widow of his fallen Beta, and he swore to protect her above all others.
He gave her my seat of honor, left our bed cold each night to soothe her feigned nightmares, and ignored me completely. I was the Luna of the Blackstone Pack, but I was becoming a ghost in my own life.
The final betrayal happened in my own bedroom. She stood over my vanity and deliberately shattered my mother's sacred moonstone necklace, the last piece of my family I had left.
When Santino burst in, he didn't see my heartbreak. He saw only her fake tears.
"What did you do to her?!" he roared, his voice laced with the Alpha's Command, a sacred power he used to crush my will.
Then, for her, he did the unforgivable. He raised his hand and struck me, his mate.
In that instant, the love I had desperately clung to turned to ice. The man I had sworn my life to had not only betrayed me but had defiled the sacred bond the Goddess herself had blessed.
As the pain of his betrayal ripped through me, something ancient and powerful awakened in my blood. I rose to my feet and spoke the words that would destroy his world and begin mine.
"I, Alessia Bianchi, reject you, Santino Moretti, as my mate."
7.1
I was the top commander of a black-ops military program. After slaughtering my way through a hellish mission, I reached the extraction helicopter, trusting my second-in-command to watch my back.
But the moment our hands locked, he didn't pull me up. Instead, he plunged a syringe of lethal neurotoxin directly into my neck.
He aimed his gun at my chest, coldly stating that I was too dangerous to live. My lungs stopped, and I died in a pool of my own blood. But the endless blackness suddenly shattered. My consciousness violently forced its way into a new, broken shell. I woke up in a freezing alley, soaked in muddy rain.
This body belonged to seventeen-year-old Eliza Wyatt. A massive wave of foreign memories crashed into my brain. Her own younger sister had just stood at the top of the stairs with a mocking smile, watching street thugs beat Eliza to death.
"Take good care of the Wyatt family's eldest daughter. Tonight is the night she finally disappears."
The endless humiliation, the cold stares of her family, and the brutal betrayal by her own blood flashed before my eyes. Why was this fragile girl treated like garbage and pushed to her death by the very people who should have protected her?
I looked down at my pale, trembling hands. The top commander was dead, but in this bleeding shell, Eliza Wyatt was very much alive. I picked up a switchblade from the bloody puddle and stood up in the storm. It was time to hunt.
7.1
The night before her wedding to Wall Street billionaire Everette Baird, Deliah Quinn stood happily in her haute couture gown.
Then, her younger sister Arvilla walked in, handed her a drugged glass of champagne, and slammed an ultrasound on the vanity.
"I'm pregnant with Everette's child," Arvilla sneered.
Before Deliah's paralyzed body could react, Arvilla dragged in a canister of industrial gasoline, soaked the bridal suite, tossed a lighter, and locked the heavy oak doors from the outside.
To escape the roaring inferno, Deliah smashed the glass balcony and threw herself into the freezing, violent waters of the Atlantic Ocean.
For five agonizing years, everyone believed the Quinn heiress was dead.
Deliah returned to New York entirely reborn—a top architectural designer and a single mother, having scrubbed her past clean and forgotten the people who destroyed her.
She only wanted a peaceful life with her five-year-old genius son, Leo.
But she had no idea her son was secretly hacking airport security cameras to find himself a wealthy stepdad.
Leo deliberately bumped into a terrifying, cold-blooded tycoon, spilling scalding coffee on his custom suit to get his attention.
When Deliah frantically rushed over to protect her son and apologize, the air in the terminal vanished.
Everette Baird stared at the exact face he had obsessively mourned for five years, his eyes turning pitch black as he crushed his phone in his bare hand.
9.8
When I woke up on the muddy bank of the freezing river, I unlocked a brutal, unfiltered preview of my actual future.
For the past six months, I had been the town's ultimate joke, chasing after a city boy who looked at me like a diseased insect. Everyone thought I jumped into the river because he rejected me.
But the nightmare didn't stop there. In the future I foresaw, my entire family was destroyed. My eldest brother was handcuffed and dragged into a squad car. My second brother died in a pool of blood on the asphalt. My parents passed away from sheer grief and humiliation, and our farm was foreclosed.
Meanwhile, Bart Hawkins—my family's sworn enemy, the boy everyone accused of pushing me, but who actually jumped in to save my life—became a billionaire tech mogul. I ended up starving to death in a damp, moldy basement, completely alone.
I finally understood that I was just a pathetic, tragic side character meant to drag my family into hell. My own sister-in-law, Felicie, had been stealing our food and money, laughing at my misery behind my back.
But right now, my mother was still alive, my brothers were safe, and the farm was ours.
When Felicie walked into my bedroom, playing the devoted sister-in-law with a bowl of clear, meatless broth while a stolen roasted chicken thigh leaked grease through her apron pocket, I didn't play along.
"What's in your pocket, Felicie?"
This time, I was going to tear that horrific future apart with my bare hands.