Klaudia

"I'm not yours!" I snap, my eyes narrowing into slits as I glare at him. A wicked grin curls on his lips. "Oh, but you are, little deer. How can you even begin to deny it?" He leans in closer, his breath hot against my neck as he drags his nose along my skin, inhaling deeply. "You let me touch you. Now, you. Are. Mine." I shake my head vigorously, my voice trembling as I stammer, "I... I wasn't awake. I didn't know it was you. I thought it was him!" The words spill out, more an attempt to convince myself than to sway him. His dark, sinister laugh reverberates as he presses closer, pinning me against the wall, his body a cage around mine. "Yet your eyes were fixed on his face, weren't they, little deer? Even as you came so hard around my fingers." He's right. My heart pounds as I recall the moment, my gaze locked on Justin, terrified he would wake and discover us. Luna thought she had everything she wanted—a loving relationship with her boyfriend, Justin, and a life that felt secure. But everything changed in a single, haunting night. For years, Luna had been living under the shadow of a mysterious stalker, someone who invaded her apartment, left unsettlingly sweet gifts, and even stole her clothing. She never imagined that the danger was closer than she could have ever suspected. After a night of partying, Luna drifts off to sleep between Justin and his best friend, Dante. But what she doesn't know is that Dante, the man she trusted, is the very stalker who has been obsessing over her for years. And now, with her so close, his twisted desires are becoming impossible to resist. Luna is about to discover that the real threat has always been lying right beside her.

Blair comes home to find her fiancé in bed with her cousin Laura. She is determined not to let it destroy her. She is a strong capable woman. What she hadn’t planned on was drinking too much then sleeping with her boss. Roman shows her things she had never experienced before. Didn't even know she would enjoy. The next morning in the cold light of day and sober, Blair wants to pull away and call it a one-night stand. Roman has other ideas. He just doesn't want her for one night he wants her period.

"All my life, I've been the backup daughter. My sister Beatrice got everything—love, attention, the golden child treatment.I got leftovers and reminders I wasn't good enough. Until I discovered Niall,gorgeous Alpha from the neighboring pack,was my fated mate. Finally, my turn to be chosen. God, I was naive. Four years of engagement hell.Bleaching my hair to suit his tastes. Squeezing into tight dresses, playing his personal maid—only to hear I'd make a better servant than mate. All because his heart belonged to my sister. That night,I accidentally knocked over their picture frame. He slapped me. Hard. Said I'd never measure up to her. So I slapped him back, tore up their photo, and accepted rejection. I thought it was over. Until I caught them at the club, laughing about how pathetic my four years of trying had been. The whole engagement was their sick game. Drunk and furious, I did something reckless with my mysterious neighbor. Alpha Hudson —face carved by gods, danger in every perfectly tailored line. Most importantly, he's my ex's nemesis. So? Best s*x of my life. I thought it was a one-night stand to forget. Wrong Again. He's richer than Niall, more powerful than my family, and infinitely more dangerous. And he's not letting me go. This time, I won't be anybody's second choice."

Samantha has spent her life, surviving, not belonging. Afte losing her fire in a fire, she was left traumatized unable to shift. She grows up negelected and abused by her pack, not fitting in anywhere. When she makes a plan and runs for her life to avoid being enslaved and forcibly mated, she runs into Kieran the Alpha King of all werewolves... and her fated mate. Samantha has to face polotical enemies who deem her unworthy, her fear of love, and a past filled of secrets. This is a fast paced paranormal romance about power, healing and a women finding her true self.

When I was a child, my grandma used to tell me stories. At the time, I never gave them much thought. Thinking they were just that… stories. Growing up, I soon realized that they weren’t lofty fantasies and fairy tales but memories of her past, memories of our ancestors before our world turned to sh*t. You see, what comes from legend, no matter how exaggerated the story becomes, there is always a sliver of truth. You just need to weed out the fiction from fact. My grandmother used to tell me stories of the Chosen One—the one who would save us all. When I was younger, I used to believe that what she said was true. Eventually, someone would be born, just as the Oracle predicted—someone who could save our souls and bind us back to our magic. Once I grew up and saw the world unfolding around me, I no longer believed in salvation. The chosen one seemed to be more of a prayer than reality. Some dream we wanted desperately to come true. Something in which we needed to find hope when there wasn’t any left. When our ancestors turned their backs on us, how were we expected to believe in this so-called salvation? Especially when all we witnessed was death and carnage ever since the great war. Nothing except pain and poverty. I used to believe the stories and used to pray for the mysterious chosen one that would rid our world of its evil. Now, though, I see it for what it really is, just a dream of hope. Some out of reach fairy-tale. A story to create hope. Hope is dangerous; it makes you believe things will get better. I stopped hanging on to hope when I witnessed firsthand that it caused nothing but heartache.