"Leave," I ordered, proud that my voice didn't sound half as shaky as I felt. "Is that what you really want, Keera?" He asked in a whisper. Before I could muster a response, his hand raised mine, slowly bringing my fingers to his nose. The same fingers that had been moving inside of me only minutes ago. My heart thudded. He kept his eyes locked with mine as he inhaled the scent of my release before bringing my fingers to his mouth and dragging his tongue over the fingers, licking them clean. ---- Keera - They shouldn't exist. It was impossible. They were freaks of nature. That had been my initial thoughts about werewolves. And for years I believed I was right to think that because all the werewolves I met did nothing but hurt me. Especially him. I'd been drawn to him from the very first day that I saw him. Before I realized he hated me. I didn't want to admit it but he was the one who reinforced my hatred for werewolves. I didn't need to help them out. But I did. And I watched my life spiral out of control. From crossing every boundary I ever built by getting into a relationship with him to finding out I was his mate. Grayson - I despised her before I even got the chance to meet her in person. Our relationship was forbidden. Werewolves weren't allowed to mate with humans. I didn't think I could ever even be considering the possibility. But that was before her. I found out she was my mate. There was no way I was letting her go then. I didn't mind stepping down as Alpha if it meant I could be with her. Because whether she liked it or not she felt the same about me.

Everyone thought I’d been chasing Lucas Carter for five years. They had no idea that for those five years, I was his secret fiancée. At Lucas’s birthday party, his childhood friend Emma Hil teased me in front of everyone. “Ava, if you keep this up, Lucas will get tired of you. Want me to set you up instead?” Lucas slung an arm over Emma and laughed. “Stop. She embarrasses easily.” “Besides, she’s been my little sister for years. I'll find her someone,” he added quickly. I kept my gaze steady, lifting my glass. “No need. I’m getting married next month.”

那年圣诞，我被领回家。 第一次见到姐姐，她躺在床上，身上插满各种管子。 妈妈抱着我说，我是姐姐活下去的唯一指望。 从那天起，我成了姐姐的药。 姐姐的眼睛看不见了，我的一只角膜给了她。 姐姐需要换血，我的骨髓移植给了她。 姐姐的肾衰竭了，我的一颗肾脏给了她。 今年，姐姐的心脏也开始衰竭。 妈妈拿着手术同意书，笔尖对着我的名字。 她眼里的期待，和每一次都一样。 我攥紧了衣角，在心里对姐姐说： “姐姐，这一次，我能和你一起死吗？”

Emily Thorne's life went up in flames five years ago. Her parents, two fearless journalists, were killed in a fire that was framed as an accident. But Emily knows it was not. Now, she's dead set on finding out who killed them and why. Her investigation leads her straight to Hale Biodyne, a shady pharma empire with a dirty secret: they're experimenting on humans. When Emily tries to sneak in, she's caught by Alexander Hale, the company's dark horse. But instead of turning her in, he offers her a deal: become Victor Hale's new secretary, and he'll help her uncover the truth. Victor's the ruthless heir to the empire, cold as ice and sharp as a knife. Emily should hate him, but the more she digs, the more she realizes he's not the monster she thought. As she gets deeper into the Hale empire, Emily's heart is on the line. She's playing with fire, and one wrong move could cost her everything. But she's not backing down. not when she's this close to the truth. Would you risk everything for justice, or would you get burned to get Justice?

My mate Miles was injured in a rogue attack and lost his memory. He didn't remember that I was pregnant with our pup, but he marked another she-wolf, Gamma Selene. Miles said that Selene was his destiny. As an Omega, I was not worthy of him at all. As he wished, I severed our mate bond. But when Miles found out that I wasn't a mere Omega, he came crawling back to me. "Let me mark you again, Caroline," he begged. What he didn't know was that I was already taken. Owned by the Alpha more powerful than him.

At the bachelor party before my wedding, my fiancé's so-called "bro"—who happens to be a woman—insisted on playing the push-up game. "The rules are simple..." Marcella put the blindfold over my eyes, her laughter piercing: "Titus is doing push-ups on me. You're not allowed to look, only listen." "If you guess how many he did," she said, "you'll win!" Darkness swallowed my vision. All I could hear were breathy moans and bodies rubbing together. “Titus, you’re pressing into me…” “Don’t move." Titus's voice came through. "It tickles.” I yanked the blindfold off. Then I saw Marcella was straddling Titus’s waist, her big pale boobs mashed against his pecs. Both of them were flushed, while the groomsmen were doubled over, howling. “Scarlett, hurry up and guess!” they taunted. “How many push-ups did they do?" they mocked me. "If you can’t guess, forget the wedding!” Rage shot straight to my skull. I grabbed a pair of scissors and snipped Marcella’s deep-V strap dress into confetti. “Didn’t you wanna play?” I asked, smirking. “I’ll let you play all you want.”

On the night of our anniversary, my boyfriend Paul said he couldn't come home because of an emergency meeting. Bored out of my mind, I opened TikTok, immediately attracted by a livestream. The girl doing the LIVE was hunting down a side chick. "That slut lives in this neighborhood. I'm going there right now to catch them in the act!" Comments in the chatroom were flying at a breakneck speed. "Another scripted show?" "Men who cheat are so despicable!" "Maybe they're banging right now." But I was completely frozen. Because that woman was pointing at my house: "That whore lives right here!"

One night. One full moon. One irreversible mistake. Braila never expected to wake up marked—claimed—by the very dudes she should never desire. Her ruthless, untouchable step brothers. The bond should be impossible. It should be wrong. And yet, it burns through her, pulling her toward them in ways she can’t resist. One brother rejects her with venomous hatred. Another fights the need to possess her. The rest? They’re losing control. Their instincts demand they claim what’s theirs. But giving in would mean crossing a line they can never undo. The moon goddess doesn’t make mistakes. But this time… it might have. Now, trapped between an undeniable pull and a love that could destroy them all, Braila must uncover why the full moon forced the bond—before desire consumes them completely.

The Viper Moon Wolf Pack is known for two things: having venomous bites in their wolf forms, and having tons of cold hard cash in their human forms. Hannah Star is one of the only scholarship students at Viper Moon Academy, an exclusive werewolf boarding school for the pack’s teen heirs and heiresses. None of the elites know that Star exists, until she shifts on her eighteenth birthday at the beginning of senior year, and finds her mates. Hannah is fated to the four richest, most popular and most arrogant boys in school, the Quadruplet Alphas: Jonah, Noah, Elijah and Isaiah. The Quads are identical heartthrobs, who will one day rule the Viper Moon Pack. They’re beloved by all, except Hannah, whom they ignored completely until the mate-bond hit. Now, the only girl they want is the one girl not interested in them! Will the Quads demolish everything in their path to get to Hannah, including the walls she has built around her heart? Are the rumours of a curse on the Quad's family true? Is Hannah risking her life by being with the so-called cursed Quads? Can the curse be broken? Who put the curse on their family, and more importantly, why? It all remains to be seen in Billionaire Quadruplet Alphas by Joanna J.

Quietly breaking under the weight of a thousand watching eyes. The Alpha who once promised her forever doesn’t arrive. Instead, the truth comes to her in the cruelest way possible: a live broadcast exposing Jordan Harrington in another woman’s bed… with the one person she was never meant to compete with. Minerva. The girl he called family. The girl he chose—over his own mate. In a single moment, five years of love turns into public disgrace. Laughter replaces vows. Pity replaces respect. And the bond Rosalina believed was unbreakable shatters before the entire pack. But Rosalina does something no one expects. She doesn’t beg. She doesn’t cry. She rejects him—publicly, completely, and without regret. With a sacred oath to the Moon Goddess, she severs their bond and walks away from the title every wolf would kill to have. Now branded as the Luna who was “not chosen,” Rosalina disappears from the life that once suffocated her… only to rise from its ashes stronger, colder, and far more dangerous than anyone remembers. Because betrayal does not break her. It remakes her. And while Jordan basks in the illusion of control with Minerva at his side, he fails to realize one simple truth— The woman he discarded was never ordinary. She was the power behind his throne. And now that she’s gone… He will learn exactly what it means to lose everything.

I'd cremated thirteen hundred corpses. But the one I handled today opened its eyes in front of the furnace door. I was a cremator at a funeral home. I'd been doing this job for eight years and seen all sorts of strange things—the body suddenly sitting back, the furnace backfiring and exploding, and family members crying until they go into shock. But I'd never seen a dead person open their eyes. Even more eerie, he looked at me and twitched the corner of his mouth. It wasn't a mere flicker, but a smile. The kind that said, "I knew you'd come." I instinctively stepped back and knocked over the tool cart. When I looked up again, the furnace door had already closed, and the flame ignited automatically. Through the observation window, I saw that person's body tumbling in the fire, like a live fish thrown into a frying pan. I wasn't sure if he was really alive. But I was certain of one thing—the death certificate of this person was forged by me. Because I needed his identity to bury another person.

For three years, I stayed in a cold mate bond with a man who never wanted me. Alpha Emeric believed I drugged him into marking me. Believed I crawled into his bed to steal the title of Luna. So for three years, he punished me for it. While I suffered beside him, he kept another woman at his side without shame. The day I asked to sever our mate bond, he laughed at my face. “You want freedom?” he said coldly. “Give me a child first.” But I had no time left to argue. I only had six months to live, and I still didn’t have a wolf. Before I could escape him, the man from my past returned. Cyran, my stepbrother. The one person who once protected me, cared for me, and told me that he never wanted to be just my brother—he wanted me as his Luna. The very reason I was drugged into Emeric’s bed three years ago. Now, Alpha Emeric, the mate who never wanted me, suddenly refuses to let me go.

I’d been listening in on other people’s secrets. So far, more than twelve hundred of them. But today was different. What I heard wasn’t a secret. It was death. I was a hydrology tech with the Riverton City Water Resources Department. I worked at the river monitoring station about two miles downstream from Greenwood Dam. Every day, I logged water level, flow rate, turbidity, and keep an underwater sonar array—fifteen years old and cranky—running. That array was built to track fish migration. Then three years ago, after a software update, it started picking up something else. Human voices. Not speech. But the sound a body would make when it sunk and the vocal cords shivered one last time. Muffled. Short. Like a rock hitting a mud pit. Or like someone trying to scream underwater, with the river water flooding the throat and grinding the words to mush, leaving just one frequency—somewhere between 400 and 600 hertz, lasting 0.3 to 0.8 seconds—then dropping to zero. I knew exactly what it was. I’d heard it more than twelve hundred times. Every time a body drfited from upstream and passed the sonar array, the system would flag the strange vibration in the water and save a voiceprint file. For three years, this river had delivered an average of about 1.1 bodies a day—jumpers, drownings, the ones tossed in, and the ones no one would ever identify. I numbered them and stored them on a hard drive. I never called the cops. Not because I was cold-blooded. But because those recordings could be sold.

I’d been married to my husband, Hank Johnson, for two years. He was always preaching that adults should deal with their own emotions. He wanted me to handle everything myself and not cause him trouble. Last time I went downstairs to take out the trash, I fell and fractured a bone. I called him. “I’ve got a meeting. Call yourself an ambulance.” I hopped on one foot looking for my phone, cold sweat running down my face. When my mom got seriously ill and needed to be hospitalized, I begged him to spare two hours to go to the airport with me to pick her up. Hank said he didn’t have time. Then he sent me some money and said his time cost more than hiring a nurse. I took Mom from hospital to hospital for tests, ran nonstop for a week, and nearly passed out. One night I laid in bed wanting to talk to Hank about all the pressure lately. He rolled over and turned his back to me. “You’re my wife. If you can’t even manage your emotions, how are you supposed to handle public situations with me?” Later I was diagnosed with moderate depression. I took the report home, hoping to talk to Hank. He glanced at it, then fed the paper straight into the shredder. He frowned and said I was being dramatic. “You sit at home all day and don’t work. What do you have to be depressed about? You’re just bored.” Mom died of her illness. I fainted at the hospital, and when I woke up I’d already miscarried and needed a dilation and cutterage. On the way to the operating room, I saw Hank with my good friend Emma Smith in his arms, asking a doctor to look at her swollen, red ankle. He crouched and rubbed her ankle, his voice thick with concern. “This is on me. I shouldn’t have let you wear heels. Next time I’ll bring you flats.” I laughed. He wasn’t about stoicism or independence. He just never counted me among the people he’d protect.

Mara Ellison didn’t survive her husband burying her alive to come back and forgive him. She came back as someone else entirely. Three years, a new face, a new name, and more money than Daniel Ellison has ever seen in one room. When Celeste Vayne walks through the front door of his company as the foreign investor he desperately needs, he doesn’t recognize the woman he put in the ground. He just knows he wants to impress her. My Husband Buried Me Alive… I Came Back as His Nightmare is a razor-sharp revenge story about a woman who lost everything and rebuilt herself specifically to take it back. No rescue. No forgiveness. No mercy.