Dreya Bear

"I, Gabriel Foster of the Nightfall Pack, hereby announce that my fated mate Raine will be joining our pack. I hope that everyone will treat both Raine and Luna Elena with equal respect in the future." My husband Gabriel had announced in front of all of our pack members on our third wedding anniversary that he had found his fated mate. I stared blankly at the two figures cuddled up in the center of the hall as a wave of numbness washed over me and I listened to all of the members of the pack congratulating them wholeheartedly. Gabriel's so-called Fated Mate, Raine, feigning innocence and vulnerability, handed me a glass of wine. But that glass of wine took my life! Yet, the Moon Goddess decided my story wasn't over. She granted me a second chance. This time, I am determined to peel back the mask of that b*tch and make Gabriel experience a regret so profound it will be his living torment!

"Say it like you mean it, darling," he purred, leaning in and licking my neck, "and I might stop." My mother got remarried... and cursed me in the process. I thought moving into this mansion would be the worst part of it. I was wrong. Because living here means living under the same roof with them. The Varkas brothers. Beautiful. Dangerous. Possessive. And absolutely, devastatingly off-limits. They call me "stepsister. " But the way they look at me? The way they touch me? It's anything but brotherly. There's something wrong with them. Something not... human. I can feel it in the way their eyes flash when they're angry. In the way their bodies burn hotter than they should. In the way they move, like predators in the dark. I don't know what they are. But I know one thing... whatever's hunting me now, I won't survive it. Not if I keep letting them close. Not if I keep letting them ruin me with their hands, their mouths, their filthy words. I should run. I should fight. But the truth is... part of me doesn't want to escape. Because whatever they are... I crave it. And once they claim me, there's no coming back. One more thing... All three of them touch me, all three of them make me feel things, but there's one in particular... One... AUTHOR'S NOTE: A fair warning before you open this book; this isn't a sweet romance kind of book. It's dark, filled with sensual fantasies, fleshing longings, erotic musings, and lots, and lots of smut. So if this is your kind of vibe, "Welcome, princess and make sure you wear your seat belt. " But if this is not, then...

To drown away her emotional pain from a harsh breakup, Jayda went to a local bar to get wasted. There, she met Sebastian Miller, the multimillionaire with the worst personality but incredibly s*xy charm. Despite his flaws, she had a passionate one-night stand with him, creating a bond that binds them forever and forging a connection that transcends fleeting moments.

You may ask how I got in this position. The position where i;m in bed with my gay best friend, while his boyfriend watches with hungry eyes. Let’s just say... it started with a broken heart, a ruined plan, and one reckless, desperate request. I was supposed to lose my virginity to someone safe, someone I loved. Instead, I caught him cheating at the worst possible moment, right before I was about to hand him everything. In the aftermath, I asked the only person I trusted. My best friend Zain. The problem was... Zain's gay, and he wasn't single either. Now, pleasure, shame, and temptation blur into something I can't control. And the worst part? I don’t know if I want to stop. A filthy, emotional, no-holds-barred dark romance where first times are anything but innocent.

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.

“Hold her mouth open, she’s too polite to ask for it.” A firm hand grips my jaw, keeping it wide, as another man groans above me, thick and pulsing, his c*ck sliding against my tongue with punishing rhythm. She was supposed to be a transaction. One night. A girl forced to sell herself for money, and three men who could offer more than she’d ever dreamed, for a price. But Harper isn’t like the others. When she steps into that hotel suite, fragile and brave all at once, she isn’t just agreeing to pleasure. She’s agreeing to surrender. And something about her, about the way she flinches, the way she obeys, the way she doesn’t ask for more, makes them all pause. They own a club built on power, discipline, and unshakable rules. But she doesn’t know any of that yet. All she knows is what it feels like to be touched like she matters, just once. When they ask if she wants more, she says the wrong thing. “I’d have to ask Mark.” What should’ve been a second arrangement turns into a revelation. Because they know what Mark is. And now they know what he’s been doing to her. Two days later, they offer her another night. Same price. Only this time… they don’t plan on letting her go back. “Good girls take it. All of it. Even when it hurts.” I scream into the pillow as one thrusts deeper, harder, while the other presses his weight against my back, whispering filth into my ear and slapping my thigh until I shake.