Becca Jones

"No woman leaves his bed alive." "But I will survive." I whispered it to the moon, to the chains, to myself—until I believed it. They say Alpha King Maximus is a monster — too big, too brutal, too cursed. His bed is a death sentence, and no woman has ever left it alive. So why did he choose me? The fat, unwanted omega. The one my own pack offered up like trash. One night with the merciless King was supposed to end me. Instead, it ruined me. Now I crave the man who takes without mercy. His touch burns. His voice commands. His body destroys. And I keep going back for more. But Maximus doesn't do love. He doesn't do mates. He takes. He owns. And he never stays. "Before my beast consumes me completely—I need a son to take the throne." Too bad for him…I'm not the weak, pathetic girl they threw away. I'm something far more dangerous —the one woman who can break his curse… or break his kingdom.

“Will you die for them?” The Alpha King’s voice was cold enough to silence the hall. And Althea heard the answer long before she spoke it… not from herself, but from the minds screaming around her. ‘Just sacrifice yourself.’ ‘You’re nothing.’ ‘You should die for us.’ Her gift or curse let her hear and read every hateful thought, every desperate plea. And even then, she still stepped forward. She chose to protect the weak, the innocent, the only ones who had ever shown her kindness… even if the price was her life. But Gavriel Kingsley, the Alpha King, didn’t kill her. He wanted something else. Ownership. "You are mine now," His voice barely above a whisper. “As a slave?!” The King chuckled, his gaze dark as midnight. “As my breeder.”

Things didn’t look great, not only did I lose the last piece of my life as I stared down at the foreclosure notice on my mothers house. I now had to face the realisation she will probably never come home. Watching someone wither away, knowing they were once full of life, once the biggest influence in your life and now they were reduced to skin and bone, bedsores, and a machine breathing for them as the life slowly drained out of them, bloody s*ck*d. I thought for sure that would be the hardest day of my life when they rang me to tell me there was nothing else they could do for her. Yet I still held out hope, held onto the possibility no matter how slim it was that she would return to me, just wake up like nothing happened. Scrunching up the foreclosure notice, I toss it in the bin before adjusting the box tucked under my arm. I walked to the trunk of my car dropping my mothers alcohol stash in it. I couldn’t leave it in the storage locker. No flammable liquids but I couldn’t bring myself to throw it out either, mum loved a drink. I hated that she was a drunk but now I would give anything to see her with her drink in her hand while laughing and telling me stories. Sighing, I close the trunk and hop in my car looking at my childhood home one last time before I say goodbye to this part of my life. I was truly on my own.

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.

"You can't be weak, wife. You now have three husbands to please. Tonight's the night we claim you. You can't let a simple wedding tire you, for our nuptial night holds trials far more demanding." Ezra whispered huskily, tucking my hair behind my ear. -- "Oh god!” I cried. "Not god, baby. We are your demons," Ezra growled, pounding faster. -- "Call my name, Xanthea,” Asher groaned and a tight flutter erupted in my belly. -- "I can't… I can't take this… anymore…" And then he hit a spot, and he kept hitting it again and again with every thrust. Sparks charged throughout my body like the lightning cracking in the stormy sky again and again until it was too much to hold back, too hard to… resist. *** Xanthea Plath, an illegitimate child of the Alpha of Virgo pack, was an omega and omegas weren't allowed to dream, yet she never stopped dreaming. She wanted to be a doctor just like her mother but the luna of the pack, her stepmother would break her physically and mentally and stop at nothing to crush all her dreams. Xanthea had still found a way though all the abuse her steps put her through. But one day her world came crashing down right before her entrance in a medical college when she found out that she was being offered as a bride to the ruthless triplet alphas also known as the demon lords of the Infernal pack of the underworld. Xanthea had heard the horrifying stories of several suitors who had come before her, all of whom had met a gruesome end. Dark Reverse Harem Romance with 18+ explicit content. Readers discretion advised.

This novel contains explicit and trigger scenes!!! If you are not comfortable with such, please abstain!!! “Little sis is blushing again. That pink’s not from the room, is it?” He dragged a finger along her jaw, slowly. “Tell me, did your panties go missing… or did you just want us to notice?” When Thalia’s heart is shattered by betrayal, her mother sends her away—to a dark, creepy mansion in the middle of nowhere. There, she must live with her cold stepfather and his four mysterious sons: Blaze, Jax, Rhys, and Milo. They’re not boys. They’re wild, dangerous, too hot to look at—and totally off-limits. Everyone calls them “troubled.” But Thalia quickly learns there’s something even darker inside them. Something not human. The mansion whispers with secrets, the moon shines too brightly, and the air feels too alive. Then comes the warning: a strange event called the Lunar Surge is coming. People are changing—becoming more aggressive, more primal. More... hungry. Thalia should run. But her body won’t listen. Because her stepbrothers aren’t just teasing her. They’re watching her. Touching her. Whispering things that make her knees go weak. And her body? It’s reacting in ways she doesn’t understand… or want to stop. She came to heal. She’s not sure she’ll make it out sane.

My name is enough to send most people running. Those that don’t are fools, and for that, they will feel my wrath. I am the King of Darkness. The Dark Tribrid is what they call me. Destruction is what I am, what I bring, and what I am known for. Countries have fallen by my hands. A world changed by me and the blood I have spilled. People now fear the dark, fear the Dark Ones. My mother thought she was protecting me by keeping my magic from me. That betrayal is what hurt the most. She took a piece of me, and I nearly killed her for it. Growing up, I knew I was different. My outlook on life was different. My childhood was filled with love and everything a child could desire. But despite my upbringing, I always felt like I was lacking something. Something vital was missing from my life. From the outside, we appeared to be the perfect family. Our lives were great until I turned sixteen, and I came back into possession of my magic. The darkness s*ck*d all parts of me away until I became the person I am today. I used to fear the darkness, now I embrace it. For decades, I roamed the Earth, struggling to find meaning, and that was how I stumbled across my mates. At first, they feared me. By then, everyone had heard my name, not a country left intact as I made my way through each one, trying to figure out my purpose. I met Ryland first. He was just as sadistic as me and a werewolf. We continued our reign of terror until we met our other mate. I was hoping for a woman, not that I was uncomfortable with my sexuality. It is what it is. I would f*ck anything with legs to fulfill my needs and my mates. Orion was different, weaker. He disagreed with my past and the things we had done. He was much older than both of us and knew of my grandfather. Orion is a vampire and a little old-fashioned, but he is mine even though he annoys and frustrates me. He hated me at first, but he came to see reason. He has remained by my side, even when he disagrees, trying to talk me down and change me. Yet, now I think he has given up. Then, there is her. I thought I was complete until I met her. Evelyn Harper, the light in my darkness. I want her, crave her. She is a human and perfectly made for us. Evelyn is everything I never realized I desired, and exactly what I was searching for. The moment I laid eyes on her, I knew she would be ours. She just didn’t know it.

One hundred years later Thaddeus POV My name was enough to send most people running. Those that didn’t were fools, for they would feel my wrath. I am the king of darkness. The Dark Tribrid, they call me, the one that changed the world. I am destruction, and countries have fallen by these hands. Mercy isn’t a part of my vocabulary; I didn’t grant forgiveness or mercy. It was best to stay on my good side. My mother thought she was protecting me, keeping my magic from me. That betrayal hurt the most. She took a piece of me, and I nearly killed her by getting it back. I knew growing up I was different. I saw life differently. Sure, I came from a home filled with love and everything a child could desire. My parents would have moved heaven and hell for me. Yet that was their downfall. Their betrayal. From the outside, we were the perfect family. Our lives were great until my sixteenth birthday. I stopped aging at thirty, but the darkness made me feel every bit of the hundred and one years I have had on this earth. Sucking every part of me away until I become what I am now. I used to fear the darkness, now I embrace it.