They said the prophecy was an ancient myth-whispered, tucked between the covers of bedtime tales, always ending in blood. But Aria was always drawn to the forbidden, to the whisper of trees after sunset, to the wolf-song that lulled her to sleep. Born under a dwindling moon, with a silver crescent stamped barely above her heart, she was not the same from the start. The village midwife had gone pale when she'd caught sight of the mark. Her mother had held her tighter, whispering prayers. The old stories warned that a girl like her would call the Wolf King back. No one ever said what he would do once he came back. Now, she knew. On the night of the Blood Moon, he came out of the forest, tall and unyielding, his eyes burning embers and his voice a wisp of smoke that curled around her. He didn't speak at first-he only looked at her, as if she was the last piece in a puzzle, he'd been trying for centuries to finish. "Waited lifetimes for you," he whispered, his hand cradling her cheek, rough and warm. His touch shouldn't have shivered down her spine-but it did. She should have screamed. Should have run. Yet her body leaned into his, as if it recalled something her mind had forgotten long ago. "You're mine, little moon," he whispered against her flesh. "Not because the prophecy requires it. but because I've burned for you in every single life I've ever had." Her heart was racing in her chest, caught between fear and desire. She was no warrior. No princess. Just a girl with too many questions and not enough sense to say no to the crazy fire in his eyes. And yet, when he pulled her into his arms and carried her into the forest, when the pack closed around them and the stars wheeled overhead, Aria didn't fight. She held on tight. For deep in her heart, something wild stirred. Something that wanted to love him. Or kill him. The Wolf King had claimed her as his. But Aria was no one's prey.
The folks of elder grove had many rules.
Don't stray from the paths at night.
Don't leave your windows open during full moon.
And never, ever speak of the Wolf King.
Aria had broken all three before she turned nineteen.
She sat at the edge of the forest now, wind whipping around her like curious fingers, her bare feet grazing soft moss. Her name was whispered by the trees, though there was no one else around. The scent of rain hung in the air, yet the skies were clear-a sign, some would say. But Aria was never curious about signs.
She was only curious about silence.
The village was preparing for the Festival of Moons. Bright banners fluttered between rooftops, and silver coins had been sewn into dresses with shaky hands. At sunset, the villagers would place offerings at the tree line-tokens of peace, tribute for silence. But it was all pretenses. No one had seen the Wolf King in over a hundred years.
And yet. the forest still watched.
Aria lay back on her elbows, eyes straying up to the sickle moon in the late afternoon sky. Its shape was one her mother called the Hunter's Curve. There were some who whispered it was the mark of fate.
But Aria bore her own curve-branded into her skin just above her heart. A crescent-shaped birthmark, pale as milk and warm to the touch when the moon was full.
She didn't know what it meant. Only that it made people stare.
"Aria!"
She turned at the sound of her sister's voice. Lila came running across the field, skirts hitched in one hand, a basket swinging in the other.
"You're going to miss the ceremony," Lila huffed. "Mother's already in a twist."
Aria sighed and rose to her feet, brushing moss from her skirts. "She's always in a twist. About something."
"This time it's serious. The High Seer is here. She's doing the blessing." Lila wrinkled her nose. "Creepy old thing. Keeps asking if you've been. feeling different."
Aria's heart gave a subtle flutter.
"Different how?"
"Like headaches. Dreams. Strange urges to run into the woods and never come back." Lila rolled her eyes. "The usual doomsday nonsense."
Aria didn't answer. She had been dreaming. For months, now. Strange, vivid things. A forest covered in silver frost. A pair of golden eyes watching her from the darkness. A man with a crown of bone and a cloak of fur and ash.
He always called her the same thing.
Little moon.
She never said anything to anyone.
By sundown, elder grove was vibrant with firelight and song. Aria stood at the back of the group; her silver-thread dress too tight at the sleeves. Her mother had braided blue flowers into her hair, praying under her breath the entire time.
"Be still," she had warned. "Don't make a scene."
Aria wasn't trying to-but it always managed to find her anyway.
The High Seer moved in front of the bonfire, her face hidden behind a veil of smoke and silk. She held a bowl of Moonwater and ash and moved along the line of girls, anointing their foreheads with gleaming grey.
When she reached Aria, she halted.
There was a silence that rippled through the crowd.
She, the Seer breathed. Her voice was soft as moth wings, but it stung like frost. "You," she said. "You are the marked one."
Aria was frozen.
The Seer put a cold thumb on her forehead and whispered a word in a language no one else knew. Aria's skin crawled. Her birthmark flared.
Then the wind rose.
Not a breeze-a wail.
The bonfire sputtered. Banners tore from their strings. The music died as every villager turned toward the tree line. The woods were not quiet now.
From the darkened edge, someone stepped.
Tall. Cloaked in black. Fur trimmed his shoulders. Antlers grew from an iron crown, twisted like the roots of an old tree. And eyes-gold burning bright, fixed on Aria as if he'd found the one thing, he'd searched for all his life.
Gasps rolled like thunder.
"Wolf King," a voice breathed.
The legends hadn't done him justice.
He wasn't a monster. Not exactly. His face was human-sharp, striking, carved from stone and secrets. Yet something beneath his skin moved, as if barely restrained. His presence weighed heavy on the air, bearing down like a storm.
And he was walking straight for her.
Aria's feet wouldn't move. Her heart pounded like a war drum.
He stopped a breath away.
"You are mine," he said. Not a question. Not a plea. A claim.
Aria looked up at him. "You're supposed to be a myth."
His lips curled into an almost-smile. "And you were supposed to be a dream."
Then he reached for her.
The villagers shrieked. Her mother wept. Lila called out her name.
But when his arms closed around her and the world shattered into wind and darkness, Aria didn't scream.
For deep within her, something old awakened.
Something that whispered, at last.
They tell of no benefit resulting from roaming the woods after dark. They tell of mountains that hold a monster with silver eyes and an accursed heart colder than winter itself. And Lyra had never been one to believe in fairy tales-not until the evening she found him bleeding in the snowfall, his hot and heavy breath against the cold. A wolf, enormous and shaking, fell at her feet as if fate had sent him. She ought to have run. She ought to have left him there to perish. But she did not. She touched him. And that was it. The monster became a man in her touch. Scarred. Handsome. Pitiful. His voice, like thunder low. His eyes, like moonlight trapped in ice. And on his body, a mark that shone like magic and memory. "I am cursed," he told her. "To love me is to lose everything." But it was too late. For in the firelight of her little cottage, candle flame that danced and shadows that provided secrets, her heart began to unravel. And somewhere in the stillness and snowflakes... she began to wonder if the worst peril was not the curse, but to love the one it bound.
Some love stories never end. Some curses never die. As Emily Gray enters the tiny, abandoned town of Durnham Hollow to research the estate she's inherited from a distant, deceased relative she's never met, she has no idea she's entering a life she's already lived. centuries ago. Within the crumbling walls of Blackwood Estate is a cursed wedding dress, a stubborn mirror that will not share the moment, and a veil that breathes out forgotten vows. While Emily works to uncover the mystery of a dead bride, Isabella Blackwood, she finds herself receiving visions, memories. and someone else's feelings. For Emily is more than a guest to this haunted house-she is Isabella, reincarnate. And he-the unloosening groom-has waited. Tied by a blood oath and a love that overcame death, the ghost of the groom has waited for centuries, observing, waiting for the soul of his beloved to return so their incomplete wedding can at last be completed... even if it means pulling Emily into death to make it so. Now Emily is forced to confront a terror worse than her worst nightmares: to escape is to lose a part of herself, but to surrender is to seal her fate for eternity. To shatter the curse, she will need to uncover what actually occurred on that fateful wedding night... and confront the ghost of a love that will not die. Will she cut the threads of the cursed-or be woven into them once more?
Rosalynn's marriage to Brian wasn't what she envisioned it to be. Her husband, Brian, barely came home. He avoided her like a plague. Worse still, he was always in the news for dating numerous celebrities. Rosalynn persevered until she couldn't take it anymore. She upped and left after filing for a divorce. Everything changed days later. Brian took interest in a designer that worked for his company anonymously. From her profile, he could tell that she was brilliant and dazzling. He pulled the stops to find out her true identity. Little did he know that he was going to receive the greatest shocker of his life. Brian bit his finger with regret when he recalled his past actions and the woman he foolishly let go.
WARNING! This book is not suitable for young readers or sensitive minds. Some parts contain graphic sex scenes, adult language, and situations intended for mature readers only! BLURB She saved herself for the man she thought would be her forever. She believed in love, in promises, in happily ever after. Until she caught her fiancé tangled in another woman's arms. Betrayal burned through her veins, leaving behind only one desire. REVENGE. And what better way to break him than to seduce the one man who could shatter his pride-his powerful, dangerously handsome billionaire uncle? He's older, untouchable, and completely off-limits. But she's willing to play dirty, willing to risk everything, just to watch her ex suffer. But what happens when the game turns on her? Because the moment she steps into his world, she realizes he's not just a pawn in her twisted little plan. He's a man who dominates, consumes, and makes her feel things she's never felt before. And the worst part? She might not want to escape.
Anabel found out she was pregnant and dialed her husband's number to share the good news to him. They have been married for two years without a child. Desmond's mother had been accusing her of being barren and unproductive. When the call was picked, she was flabbergasted and broken. She was hearing a loud moan of feminine voice. "Ohh! Yeah! Don't stop fucking me! Fuck me harder baby!" accompanied with sound of skins slapping against the other. She went home to confront her husband and end up receiving a divorce paper. Desmond divorced him for a lady his mother was rooting. Few months later when he found out that his ex-wife is a billionaire heiress and she is pregnant with twins, he went crazy!
Lucia Balstone thought she had chosen the right man to spend the rest of her life with, but he was the one who ended her life. Their ten-year marriage seemed like a joke when her husband stabbed her with a dagger. Fortunately, God is never blind to people's tears. Lucia got a second chance. She was reborn at the age of 22, before all the terrible things had happened. This time, she was determined to avenge herself and let those who hurt her pay! She made an elaborate list of her goals, and the first thing on her list was to marry her ex-husband's enemy, Alonso Callen!
Lacey thought she'd have to avenge her past grievances by herself, but destiny had a different idea in mind... By a twist of fate, she ended up being the elegant daughter of the White family. When the real daughter returned, Lacey chose to stay, only to be trapped in a well-planned conspiracy leading to her untimely death. Reborn, Lacey encountered the real daughter's comeback. This time, she quickly left, resolved to recover what was wrongly taken from her in her previous life. Rhett exclaimed, "Trying to bully my woman, huh? Do you want to die?" Wait, what? Since when had she become his woman?
Due to the plight of her family, Phoebe had no choice but to embark on the path of selling herself. In an accident, she had a tangled night with Alexander. Everything began to derail, and even if she fled to the ends of the earth, she would still be found by him and entangled... *** Phoebe screamed in frustration, "What do you want from me?" What was this supposed to be? He raised an eyebrow wickedly. "What do I want? You'll find out soon enough." With that, he hoisted her up and carried her back into the office. The door slammed shut with a kick, and he cleared the desk with a sweep of his arm before laying her down on it, his body pinning hers in place, completely trapping her in his grasp. Every cell in his body was telling him he wanted her. He wanted to claim her again. This time, there would be no escape for her-he wouldn't let her slip away. Never again. If he had suffered for five years, then this woman wouldn't get off easily either!