Possession of the cursed Alpha King by Blossom Harold

Modern

Twenty minutes before the "Wedding of the Century" at The Plaza, I stood outside the Presidential Suite in a fifty-thousand-dollar Vera Wang gown. I was the girl from a West Virginia trailer park about to marry Hugh Maxwell, the golden heir to a billion-dollar defense empire. I pushed the door open only to find Hugh pinned against the bed with my own stepsister, Floy. She was wearing my bridal diamond necklace, and the sounds of their laughter scraped against my eardrums like sandpaper. I didn't scream; I listened as Hugh grunted that once the wedding was over and the trust fund unlocked, he'd dump "that hillbilly trash" on a bus back to the mountains. They weren't just cheating; they were planning to steal my family's land deeds and leave me with nothing. When I set off the sprinklers and exposed their naked bodies to the paparazzi, the Maxwell family didn't apologize. They called me a "greedy peasant" and threatened to ruin my life unless I signed a new deal to save their crashing stock. I realized then that I was never a bride to them. I was a transaction, a rounding error in a ledger to be used and discarded. They thought my poverty made me weak and my silence made me a victim. "If we don't have a marriage certificate by midnight, the bank freezes thirty percent of our liquidity," their lawyer warned. So, I gave them exactly what they wanted. I used a loophole in their hundred-year-old family covenant and married the only other direct heir available. I didn't marry Hugh. I walked into the ICU and married his uncle, Fleet Maxwell-the legendary war hero who had been in a vegetative state for months. Now, I am the matriarch of the Maxwell dynasty. I've suspended Hugh's executive powers, exiled my mother-in-law to the Swiss Alps, and taken control of the family vault. They think I'm just a gold-digger waiting for a "corpse" to die so I can collect a fifty-million-dollar widow's payout. But last night, as I lay beside my comatose husband, the man they called a vegetable gripped my hand back.

Werewolf

Rated 18+ There's a rumor, that the Alpha king of Night Shade Pack was once a human. Wilder Reagan, was a child cursed from birth. It was said, that Wilder would die on his sixteen birthday. His parents Mr and Mrs Reagan couldn't accept the heaven wills, and so Mr Reagan sought the help of his br

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I was the Luna of the Black Moon pack, happily carrying the Alpha's heir and believing in our Fated Mate bond. But on a romantic getaway to the mountains, my beloved mate Ryker suddenly pushed me off a cliff. As I dangled over the abyss, pleading for help, he just sneered and crushed my fingers un

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“Your only role is enduring the pain.” Her desire for revenge, power, and strength. His adoration to her body; never-ending lust. She is the monster that he created. He is her creator and soon to be his killer. She hates him for taking advantage of women, but he is irresistible. He wants to

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My legs felt weak. My vision blured. I whisper, "Please, forgive me my Lord, I will go....." "No," he growled, his voice low but firm "You won't." He took a step closer to me and I feel the pull from his wolf to mine. something magnetic, ancient and terrifying. It's not just attraction. It's i

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"What do you want, Aveline?" The Alpha King's silver eyes burn into mine as he drops to his knees, his hands gripping my thighs like he owns them. His voice is a command, not a request, and I'm trembling, unable to form words. "Say it properly, or I walk away and leave you like this." The night befo