Long before blood stained snow and gods chose sides, before prophecies were spoken aloud and broken blades whispered their hunger, something ancient stirred. A power once betrayed, once torn apart and buried beneath lies, had found a heartbeat again. And that heartbeat loved. Miranda Jacobs was never meant to be the center of creation's collapse. Born of war and wonder, of a war god and a just queen, she carried light . She did not seek destiny, yet destiny bent toward her all the same. Dmitri Volkov housed two souls and one promise. His uncles dark soul and Aetherion a fallen reborn : that nothing would ever touch what was his. Love anchored him where rage would have burned the universe to ash. Love also made him dangerous in ways the gods had forgotten to fear. Because the old rules no longer held. Tyron, born of betrayal and crowned by resentment, believed power was taken, not earned. He sharpened blades meant to erase souls, sent monsters into the dark, and whispered to shadows that thought the gods weak. He wanted the girl. He wanted the end. And Olympus trembled. Zeus clung to control, blind to the cost. Hera hungered for what should never be unchained. Hades saw the future and recoiled from it. Ares sharpened his sword not for glory, but for family. Poseidon watched the tides turn, knowing balance was already broken. The prophecy was clear. When light is pierced by darkness, when love becomes the battlefield, the fallen will rise without mercy, and forgiveness will die with the stars. This was not a story about heroes. It was a story about what happens when love becomes a weapon, when gods make the same mistake twice, and when the universe learns that some bonds cannot be broken without everything burning with them. Book Two begins where fear turns into war. And war remembers names.

"You're here," she murmured, voice steady. "Tell me two things you can see." His throat worked. "The tub," he managed, voice rough. "You." "Good," she said. "Now, two things you can hear." "The shower," he exhaled. "Your voice." "Two things you can feel." "The water." His grip tightened on her hand. "You." "That's good," she whispered, a small smile tugging at her lips. Sawyer Jones lives in a world of chaos-underground fights, illegal races, and the constant war inside his own head. His autism makes the world too loud, too bright, too much. Violence is the only thing that quiets the noise. Until Lia. Soft-spoken but relentless, she meets him in the tub in a party and refuses to leave. She steadies him when the rage takes over, pulls him back when he's drowning. But Sawyer knows better than to believe in peace. In his world, nothing good lasts. And the deeper Lia gets, the more he realizes-he might be her greatest danger yet. PLS GIVE IT A TRY 🌸🌸

The first rule of the Ricci estate was simple. DO NOT LOOK AT THE CAPO! Dalia broke it the moment his shadow filled the doorway. She had felt him before she saw him. The shift in the air. The quiet fear that crept up her spine and settled between her shoulders like a warning. Men like Lucien Ricci did not announce themselves. They were sensed. Felt. Endured. Everyone said he was ruthless. That his hands were stained with blood and power in equal measure. That once you belonged to him, you never truly left. Dalia had never planned to belong to anyone. She was just a maid. Quiet. Invisible. A girl with dreams tucked away where no one could touch them. Until his eyes landed on her and did not look away. Until his voice said her name like it tasted good. Until one command changed everything. There was a moment, later, when she would understand that it had never been about choice. That desire had teeth. That power could be intoxicating when it wanted you back. Lucien Ricci did not chase. He waited. And when Dalia knelt at the edge of his world, trembling but willing, he knew exactly what he would do. He would ruin her carefully. He would claim her completely. And she would never be the same girl who walked into his room again.

"One apartment. One bed (by mistake). Two strangers who couldn't be more different. 🔥 ​When Anya and Dev coincidentally become housemates, they agree on one thing: stay out of each other's way. But the city is small, and their shared kitchen feels even smaller. Between accidental touches and late-night conversations, the friction between them starts to feel a lot like fire. ​In a city of millions, they found the one person they weren't looking for." Two hearts from small towns, thrown into the chaos of the city ✨. Anya kapoor is independent, creative, and carefully guarding her heart. 💗 Dev khanna is calm, observant, and notices the little things no one else does 💛. Let's see what happens when their paths collide🤌🏻

Two people signed a contract in the name of fake love. A girl who had the key to all the secrets turns into a psychopath. They watch their loved ones die in front of them not knowing that they would be wishing to be the murderers instead. But in the end, do they still lie? Or do they find happiness through something they despised?

They handed her to me in a silk dress and diamond collar. The spoiled Sokolov princess. The executioner's daughter. My wife. Kira Sokolov dances in chaos like it's a language she invented- spinning through Paris in stilettos, kissing danger with blood-red lips, dragging her demons behind her like a designer coat. She was meant to be my obligation. A Bratva arrangement sealed in blood and silence. I never wanted a wife. Especially not one with wild eyes, bipolar swings, and a mouth that lives to drive me insane. But now she's mine. My problem. My obsession. And when she falls apart in my arms- with whispers to ghosts and bruised apologies- I'll burn kingdoms to keep her breathing. Because no one touches what belongs to Ivan Smirnov. Not the bratva. Not her past. Not even her own madness. She was born royalty. But she'll die as something else. Mine.

In the shadow of unrequited love, a heartbroken soul's desperate act unleashes a darkness that threatens to consume two worlds. When Alessa's long-held love for Liam is met with rejection, she takes her own life - but in doing so, her soul merges with Morwen, the feared Queen Witch of Aethoria, a realm of ancient magic and terror. Now wielding Morwen's formidable powers, Alessa becomes the very thing she once feared. As the Dark Queen, she rules Aethoria with an iron fist, leaving destruction in her wake. But when Lyra Stormweaver discovers the truth behind the Queen's transformation, she ventures into the human world to enlist Liam's aid. Caught between his past and present, Liam is torn as his feelings for Alessa resurface, igniting a passionate and destructive love. As Morwen's wrath ravages the earth, Liam's family becomes her ultimate target, and Alessa's soul fights to reclaim her humanity. Will love be the key to redemption, or will it seal their fate in a darkness that threatens to consume everything? Credits: Story cover credits: Sarabella329

In the cutthroat halls of a powerhouse corporation ruled by the enigmatic CEO Lorenzo Volkov, 36, a 25-year-old Indian-Irish woman struggles to prove herself amid the pressure and fear he commands. Haunted by her ex-husband's toxic words about her weight, she's battling insecurities when a brutal discovery-his cheating-shatters her world. On that dark night, an unexpected presence becomes her silent refuge: Lorenzo, the one man she fears yet can't ignore. He's cold, unreachable... but maybe, just maybe, he sees her. As their paths entwine, a forbidden, slow-burning spark ignites-one they both fight to suppress, because neither is ready to surrender to the power of wanting someone. With every glance, the tension thickens; with every touch, the walls around their secrets begin to crumble. Can they navigate the treacherous landscape of desire, power, and vulnerability without losing themselves-or will the weight of their pasts tear them apart? Lorenzo Volkov, a man cloaked in shadows, doesn't do vulnerability. The ruthless CEO has mastered the art of control, yet there's something about her-her quiet strength, her guarded eyes-that stirs a dormant intensity within him. He's drawn to her, though he won't acknowledge it, and she, still reeling from betrayal, isn't looking for rescue. But as the walls between them blur, the question becomes: can she trust the darkness of his world to lead her to light? Credits: Story cover credits: SweetsTreatsForAll

A prophecy followed Dmitri Volkov like a curse. It claimed he carried the soul of Olkov, the first vampire, a creature so ancient that even legends faltered when speaking his name. Dmitri never cared for prophecies, but the world did. His parents feared what lived in him. His people bowed to him. One wrong look from him could decide who survived the night. Still, there was a truth he never admitted. He wanted the bond his kind had lost. The kind of love that could break an immortal in half and rebuild him. He mocked it when he saw it in others, but he longed for it in silence. He sat hidden in the darkest corner of his Russian club, bourbon sharp on his tongue, bass shaking the floor under his boots. The room pulsed with heat and sin, but none of it touched him. Then it came. A scent. Soft. Warm. Alive. It hit him so hard his chest tightened. His guards tensed as he sat forward, hair falling from his face. The noise faded. The crowd blurred. He followed the scent like it pulled him by the spine. A voice followed it. Gentle. Shy. Tinged with irritation. It slid through the room and wrapped around him like a tether. His eyes found her. Red hair cascading to her waist. Golden skin lit up by the neon glow. A camera at her side. She stood in a world she did not belong to, unaware of the predator watching her from the shadows. He begged her to turn. She did. Their eyes met, and her soft gasp shattered something inside him. For the first time in centuries, Dmitri Volkov felt his dead heart try to wake. * I DO NOT OWN THE PICTURE *

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫. 𝐈𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩𝐨𝐧 𝐂𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝. 𝐓𝐡𝐮𝐬 - 𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞. 𝐀𝐬 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐜, 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐠𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐝. 𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐞, 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦? 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞, 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝. 𝐇𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐚 𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲. -𝐍𝐨𝐦𝐚