SL.Frost
- 👁 173
- ⭐ 8.0
- 📚 1
O mnie
Some authors write about love. I write about the moment revenge and love collide — when neither one is ready to lose. I'm S.L. Frost. I write the stories you shouldn't start at midnight: rejected mates who come back crowned, quiet wives who own the bank, heroines who sign the divorce papers first and apologize never. My heroines don't wait to be saved. They read the fine print, count the exits, and make the man earn every single step back. What you'll find on my shelf: possessive alphas with ruined hearts, billionaires who discover too late exactly what they threw away, fated bonds that bite back, and slow burns that actually burn. My promises to you: One. Regular updates. I don't disappear. Two. No cheap forgiveness. He grovels properly, or not at all. Three. The heroine always gets her moment — in public, with witnesses. Four. Happy endings. Always earned, never rushed. I read every comment — yes, even the ones yelling at the male lead. Especially those. Drop your theories as you read; nothing makes my day like watching a reader catch a clue three chapters early. New stories are coming all year: wolves, kings, contracts, and one very patient accountant. Add me to your library so you don't miss the next first chapter. Let's ruin some arrogant men together.
Powieści
- Autor: SL.Frost
- Status: W trakcie
- Ocena wiekowa: 18+
- 👁 173
- ⭐ 8.0
They call me the Silent Luna. They mistook my silence for surrender. The night before our mating ceremony, Alpha Kael Blackthorn held me close and swore I was the only thing his darkness had never ruined. By dawn he stood before the whole pack and cast me out — disgraced, discarded, and carrying his child. A secret I swore on my mother's grave he would never have. But I am not the orphan servant they threw into the snow to die. A black wolf mark burns on my wrist, and the ancient power sleeping inside it has chosen me. It veils my scent. It shields my unborn son. And it answers when I call. For three hundred years the Council has murdered rejected mates and blamed the curse. They expect me to be the next quiet grave. They have no idea what they've woken. I know their secret now, and I am going to take their prison apart with my bare hands — one stolen child, one broken lie, one kneeling enemy at a time. Kael coughs black blood every hour the broken bond tears at him. He grovels. He bleeds. He begs to be my sword. It's far too late for that. Because I'm done surviving. I'm coming back for everything they stole — and the heir they're so desperate to own has his father's eyes. Pregnant. Rejected. Underestimated. They should have killed me when they had the chance.
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