Icy🦋

Courtesan is a dark, emotional story about Harper Walker, a resilient 17-year-old girl sold into a luxurious yet dangerous courtesan house after defying a powerful trafficker named Ross. Disguised as a boy to survive, Harper is forced to navigate a world of power, manipulation, and secrets, where survival means obeying cruel rules-or breaking them.

Phoenix Arnold was born into riches a man of great and unfathomable wealth, he had everything except freedom from his mother he dreamed of a perfect life and a perfect marriage but just to go against his mother he refused his chosen wife and picked the one woman his mother will definitely go against.. Gemma is a little orphan who took on the best paying job available to her right after college, she just wanted to survive until she met the one person who gave her a dream, the one man she ever loved and was loved right back…

A woman takes us through the journey of raising her children and building her empire, trying to live up to the king's name can be demanding but Azariah is not one to take imperfections as a lifestyle.

The sensation of falling wasn't like flying; it was heavy, violent, and smelled of burning flesh. Above us, on the crumbling balcony of the Sears manor, Duke Cato Sears turned his back, shielding his cousin Bianca from the smoke as he walked away, leaving my sister Blossom and me to drop into the abyss. As the darkness slammed shut like an iron door, I realized my entire life had been a cruel script written by the people I called family. In my first life, I was the sacrificial lamb of the Dawson manor, sold to a man who eventually watched me die without blinking. My sister Blossom had pushed me into Cato's arms to avoid his rumors, only to laugh when the fire finally consumed us both. My father had measured my value like a piece of livestock, and my step-grandmother didn't even acknowledge my existence while I was being led to the slaughter. I died in that fire, feeling the heat scorch my skin and the weight of a hatred so potent it tasted like bile. I spent twenty years being the weak, manipulated shadow of a girl, only to end up as nothing more than a phantom scorch mark on a "hero's" estate. I couldn't understand why my own blood treated my life like a game they could discard. The injustice of it all burned hotter than the flames that took my last breath. Then, I sat up, sucking in air that tasted of lavender and air conditioning, not smoke. I was back in my bedroom, three days before the engagement ball that ruined my life. Blossom stood at the door, her "sweet" mask slipping as she tried to manipulate me into the Duke's path again. She thought she was the only one who had come back, but she didn't realize that this time, I was going to let her have exactly what she wanted: the Duke, the bankruptcy, and the living hell that awaited her in that house.

Emberly, an esteemed scientist of the Imperial Federation, took her own life after completing important research. She was reborn, and just like in her first life, she was born into a wealthy family. She could’ve lived a carefree and prosperous life. However, the babies got mixed up in the hospital and she was taken home by another family from the countryside. Her foster parents later found out the truth and brought her to her real family, but they didn’t like her. Her evil adopted sister even loathed her. She was framed and ultimately, she died in prison. But in her next life, she refused to stay a coward and swore she would take revenge on all who wronged her. She would only care about those who were truly good to her and turn a blind eye to her heartless family. In one life, she had once experienced darkness and been trampled upon like an ant. In another, she had stood on top of the world. This time, she only wished to live for herself. As if a switch had gone on inside of her, she suddenly became the best at everything she put her mind to. He won the math contest, topped the college entrance exams, and solved an age old question... Later, she garnered countless scientific research achievements. People who had once slandered her and looked down on her cried bitterly and begged her for a patent authorization. She just sneered at them. No way! This was a world without faith, but the world put their faith in her. Austin, the heir to a powerful aristocratic family in the imperial capital, was cold-hearted and decisive. He scared anyone who laid eyes on him. Unbeknownst to everyone, he doted on one woman: Emberly. Nobody knew that his desire for her grew stronger with every passing day. She brought light to his originally dull and gloomy life.

Tatina Maria has been sold to an exclusive auction house to cover her parents debts to the vampire authority. Her father gambled away everything and now he is forced to sell his only daughter to be auctioned off to the highest bidder. The vampire authority comes to collect her on her 21st birthday. She is a hybrid half vampire half fairy She will fetch someone a big payday and big a nice prize for the highest bidder. What will happen to Tatina Maria when a rich vampire buys her to be all his?

Once the cherished heiress of the Douglas family, she lost everything when her parents were brutally murdered and she was framed by her own blood. Labeled a criminal, she was cast into prison with no one to trust and nothing to her name. Six years later, she returns-not as a broken woman, but as the Scarlet Valkyrie, the deadliest warrior in all of Juzora. Her aim is flawless, her signature weapon Manjusaka strikes without mercy, and her name alone sends tremors through the underworld. With one hand, she saves her ailing grandmother with the precision of a master healer. With the other, she takes down Draco City's most ruthless criminals. But her true purpose is vengeance. Every debt owed, every wound inflicted, every lie told-she will settle them all, with interest. The war goddess has returned. And the ones who wronged her are about to learn what it means to face the wrath of a legend.

The world snapped back into focus, not with the acrid smell of my own burning flesh, but the sterile scent of the ER. Just moments ago, flames engulfed me as my colleagues stood by, fire extinguishers in hand, watching me die. Now, I was whole, unscarred, alive. Then I saw her: Dr. Emily Hayes, the newly arrived resident, her eyes wide and eager. I knew that innocent smile hid poison. I had lived through it-I had died because of it. Her first "prediction" came quickly: a critically injured patient whose life she calmly declared over. Dr. Peterson, our attending physician, was furious, but her chilling words echoed when the patient died on our table, despite our best efforts. Then came the second "vision" -an ambulance crash she foresaw, just as I volunteered to take the call. My fiancé, Dr. Ryan Chen, the man I thought I knew, pulled me aside, telling me I was reckless and Emily was right. He sided with her, not me, in front of everyone. I saved that patient, defying her "prophecy," but then the ambulance Emily warned us about was found with cut brake lines. And the patient I saved died, unexpectedly, of an aneurysm. Emily' s twisted predictions found their way, solidifying her power and painting me as the one who defied fate. She whispered, "As long as Sarah Miller is working in this ER, she puts everyone in danger. Her energy, it attracts disaster." They all stared at me, their faces not with suspicion, but raw terror. They had let me burn once. Not again. This time, I would expose her.

The champagne tasted like ash. My daughter, Lily, beamed beside my beaming husband, David, celebrating her university graduation-a picture-perfect moment I' d relived before. In my previous life, it was on this very day that she had shattered me, screaming, "You're not my real parents!" after draining my retirement, all to fund the biological family who' d thrown her away. That betrayal, that sickening realization of my life's savings gone, had led to my death in a car crash, a distraction of overwhelming grief. I didn' t understand how the sweet girl we had doted on for twenty-two years could be so cruel, so utterly devoid of gratitude, bleeding us dry for people who saw her as nothing but a walking ATM. But then, I woke up, back in my own bed, on the morning of this exact party. This time, there would be no selfless mother, no victim. This time, I was a survivor, and I was ready for war.

The sound of the front door opening was a nightmare come true-my younger sister, Emily, stood there, not alone, but holding a baby in a cheap pink blanket. "Surprise! Meet Leo. He' s the newest addition to the Miller family legacy," she announced, her voice sickeningly carefree, echoing the very words that had derailed my life in a past I' d already lived. My blood ran cold; this exact moment, this casual act of irresponsibility, had led directly to my death before. My parents, blinded by affection, embraced the child and Emily' s monstrous lie, turning their backs on my desperate pleas for reason. Consumed by a terrible sense of déjà vu, I remembered the blinding pain, the darkness that consumed me when Emily, armed with one of my own sculptures, ended my previous life for simply asking her to be responsible. But this time, I wouldn't be the martyr-this time, the cycle would break, and Emily would pay.'

A sharp pain shot through my head, pulling me from a deep darkness. I opened my eyes to my luxury penthouse, but I shouldn't have been there. I remembered dying. The memory was cold and sharp: my protégé, Dustin, sold me out, and my husband, Graves, watched our company crumble, leading to my fatal heart attack. Then, Graves appeared, his charming, empty smile unchanged. But he wasn't alone. A young woman, Alex Salazar, stood behind him, clutching her cheap handbag. Graves introduced her as an intern, saying she had nowhere to stay and would be living with us. My eyes fell to her neck, where a dark hickey was partially hidden. The date on the nightstand confirmed it: I had traveled back in time to the exact day Graves brought Alex home in my previous life, the beginning of my long, painful nightmare. Last time, I had screamed and thrown things, starting my humiliation. A strange calm washed over me. I had been given a second chance, not to win him back, but to escape. "Of course," I said, my voice even, "The poor thing. We should take care of her." Graves looked surprised, then relieved. He thought he had won. "In fact," I continued, pulling out divorce papers, "I'll make sure she's comfortable. You just have one small thing to do for me." I wanted the Malibu property. "Give me that, and I'll walk away quietly. You can have your new life. You can take care of this... orphan."

My husband, Ethan, and I had a simple rule for our five-year marriage: we could have affairs, but our mansion was off-limits. It was our only sanctuary. Then, on my birthday, he broke it. He walked in with a girl named Tara, who looked disturbingly like my deceased sister, Gabrielle. Without even looking at me, Ethan' s voice cut through the air: "Jocelyn, I want a divorce. I' m going to be with her." A strange calm settled over me. I should have felt the familiar sting of betrayal, but I felt nothing. Perhaps because two days earlier, I died. On our fifth anniversary, a truck swerved, and I died on impact. Yet, my soul, consumed by obsession for Ethan, refused to leave, binding me to this world. That' s when Papa Legba, a spirit of the crossroads, appeared. He offered me a deal: seven days to get a true kiss from Ethan, and my life would be returned. Fail, and my soul was his. I knew it was impossible; Ethan had never kissed me with genuine emotion. But I accepted. Now, watching my husband replace me, I was already on day two. "Ethan, please. Just one kiss," I begged, but he scoffed, "I only kiss women I love." Then, he kissed Tara deeply, passionately, right in front of me. The pain was so sharp, it felt like I was dying all over again. I was trapped, a phantom in my own life, with a magical red thread on my wrist visibly fading, signaling my impending eternal demise. And no one, especially not the man I loved, believed me.

He took her body, her trust, and her heart-but tonight, she takes his life. "...making love to you when I will, which I will..." Alpha Gonzalo Kenyon's eyes danced wickedly, his voice threading with pride and a promise of power. The words slid under Liora's skin like poison, impossible to ignore, and impossible to forget. They can either walk a mile in her shoes and feel the pain they caused her, or they can sever their legs as they severed her heart. Only a fish can know how deep the ocean is. Only a bird can know how high the sky is. Only a polar bear can know how cold the Arctic is. Only the betrayed can know how much betrayal hurts. Slowly, Liora pressed the ceremonial dagger meant for Alpha blood into Gonzalo's chest, the blade sinking deep with chilling finality. Blood surged upward in thick, dark bursts, gushing across his bare skin and pooling around the altar where they had just made love. Gonzalo's eyes flew open, wild and disbelieving. A snarl twisted his lips, but no words came-only a strangled gasp as his lungs filled with blood. His hands grasped at her wrists, strength faltering, the power that once ruled pack and land draining with every beat of his dying heart. His bones cracked softly beneath his skin, shifting, as though the wolf inside him was fighting to rise one last time.