Author Raven

Asher is a control freak on and off the ice. From Day 1, Elena is the only person who doesn't look at him with awe. Her presence disrupts his focus. He bullies her because he is deeply, intensely attracted to her plus-size curves, and it panics him. He tries to "break" her composure because she has secretly already broken his.

Seventeen-year-old Isla Morgan has lost everything-her mother, her home, and her place in the world. When a mysterious invitation leads her to Moonridge Academy, a hidden school tucked deep in the Oregon woods, she thinks it's a chance to disappear. But Moonridge has other plans. Drawn to four powerful Alpha-blooded males, Isla begins to unravel secrets no one dares speak aloud. She's not just another student-she's the reincarnation of Elara, a long-dead Omega whose power once threatened to unite-or destroy-the shifter world. Now, hunted by a rogue faction, haunted by fragmented memories, and bound to four mates with ties to her past life, Isla must decide: Will she repeat history-or break the curse that's doomed every Omega before her?

After a totally disastrous marriage, she has decided to keep her heart locked away for the rest of her life from the most hurtful things that can ever come to her. To be precise, men. She has finally realised that it's so stupid to rely on any man or bid her own happiness on them. Even if it can be tough to be a bread earner and a single mom at the same time, even if she feels lonely at times, she will never ever enter any romantic relationship anymore. There'll only be one person she will love with her whole heart, her babies. She can do this, and she must do this, because she is an independent strong woman who is the owner of her own fate. However what happens when the man she has solely voted to be away from comes to her aid? He comes back and asks her to be his wife? "Marry me ex-wife" on his knees, he begs. "Sorry, ex-husband, I can't."

Isabelle Everett's perfect life crumbles when her billionaire husband, Damion Ryder, serves her divorce papers on their anniversary. Betrayal, heartbreak, and deceit propel her into a six-year journey of self-discovery. Now, with secrets exposed and old flames rekindled, Isabelle must choose between the man who broke her heart or her high school sweetheart, the one who's always loved her but has an ulterior motive. Will forgiveness transform their lives, or will the past destroy their future?

Cara Lewis sat quietly as her boyfriend of three years pushed a plate of dessert across the table, wearing a rehearsed mask of sorrow. He claimed he had to break up with her for her own good, blaming his lack of connections on Wall Street and insisting he couldn't give her the life she deserved. He acted like a martyr making a tragic sacrifice, waiting for her desperate tears and trembling denial. Instead, Cara calmly pulled out a stack of glossy photos and an elegant engagement invitation. She exposed his secret affair with the wealthy Hailie Lewis, completely dismantling his hypocritical social climb. Leaving the cheating narcissist pale and humiliated, Cara paid the bill and walked out, thinking the trash had finally been taken out. But her newly single evening took a chaotic turn when a teenage gaming partner called in a panic. He begged her to crash his elite prep school and pose as his aunt to save him from expulsion. Cara agreed, flawlessly playing the role of the secret new wife to his uncle, a notoriously ruthless Wall Street titan. She was thoroughly dominating the snobby school board when the office doors suddenly swung open. The real billionaire uncle, Beck Greer, walked into the room. Cara's heart dropped into her stomach as his glacial eyes locked onto her, knowing her social existence in New York was about to end. Caught in a terrifying, inescapable lie, Cara made an insane calculation. She stepped forward, firmly hooked her arm through the billionaire's, and smiled sweetly. "Honey, what took you so long? Julian and I were being bullied." She waited for the executioner's axe to fall, but the untouchable tycoon simply covered her hand with his and played along.

I was once the heiress to the Solomon empire, but after it crumbled, I became the "charity case" ward of the wealthy Hyde family. For years, I lived in their shadows, clinging to the promise that Anson Hyde would always be my protector. That promise shattered when Anson walked into the ballroom with Claudine Chapman on his arm. Claudine was the girl who had spent years making my life a living hell, and now Anson was announcing their engagement to the world. The humiliation was instant. Guests sneered at my cheap dress, and a waiter intentionally sloshed champagne over me, knowing I was a nobody. Anson didn't even look my way; he was too busy whispering possessively to his new fiancée. I was a ghost in my own home, watching my protector celebrate with my tormentor. The betrayal burned. I realized I wasn't a ward; I was a pawn Anson had kept on a shelf until he found a better trade. I had no money, no allies, and a legal trust fund that Anson controlled with a flick of his wrist. Fleeing to the library, I stumbled into Dallas Koch-a titan of industry and my best friend's father. He was a wall of cold, absolute power that even the Hydes feared. "Marry me," I blurted out, desperate to find a shield Anson couldn't climb. Dallas didn't laugh. He pulled out a marriage agreement and a heavy fountain pen. "Sign," he commanded, his voice a low rumble. "But if you walk out that door with me, you never go back." I signed my name, trading my life for the only man dangerous enough to keep me safe.

All I wanted was to find a computer genius to process the non-linear dynamic equations for my ecological model. Instead, I found myself cornered by Julian Andrews, the university's hockey prince, trading a public, staged kiss for his academic support. To finalize our "deal," I was dragged to the campus ice rink. The cheerleaders and puck bunnies immediately swarmed him, mocking my plain clothes and treating me like a pathetic joke. Brooke, the head cheerleader, even set up a figure skating competition with a date with Julian as the grand prize. She performed a basic spin, blew him a kiss, and smugly waited for me to fall flat on my face and humiliate myself. His hockey teammates laughed from the sidelines, watching me try to support Julian as he stumbled around the ice like a newborn giraffe. But as I held his warm hand to keep him from falling, I couldn't help but feel something was terribly wrong. Why was a top-tier athlete faking such awful balance? And why did his ice-blue eyes stare at me with such knowing anticipation, as if he already knew about the professional figure skating past I had spent years trying to bury? "Just let go and skate." He whispered, slowly releasing my hand. I took a deep breath, glided to the center of the rink, and landed a flawless double Axel. As the entire rink fell into a dead, shocked silence, I realized I had just exposed not only my own hidden past, but also the biggest secret of the campus god.

I was in the hospital, enduring the agonizing pain of labor, while my husband, a famous hockey captain, refused to show up. When I called him for the twelfth time, begging for him, he lost his patience. "Giving birth is a woman's job, don't bother me with this stuff." Then, I heard my stepsister's sweet voice offering him a drink, and he immediately softened before hanging up on me. I gave birth to twins all by myself. The nurses treated me with cold indifference, and the family in the next bed loudly mocked me as a pathetic "Puck Bunny" who was just an adopted orphan about to be dumped. They were right. A month ago, my husband had thrown divorce papers at me, demanding I make way because my stepsister was pregnant with his child. I thought my life was a joke. I was just a discarded prop he married to satisfy his grandfather, a fake daughter my adoptive parents only used to elevate my stepsister. I was completely alone, ready to sign the papers just to protect my two babies. But then, the head of the hospital rushed in, transferred me to the top-floor VIP suite, and handed me a DNA test. It turned out I wasn't an unwanted orphan, but the long-lost daughter of the ultra-wealthy Sinclair family who had been searching for me for twenty years. Looking at my billionaire parents and three powerful brothers who just flew in on their private jets to protect me, I picked up my phone to call my arrogant husband. This time, I was going to make him leave with nothing.

I was an intern nurse working exhausting shifts, yet my mother constantly forced me into blind dates with wealthy, arrogant men to secure our family's social standing. During a terrifying hospital lockdown, an assassin disguised as a doctor held a scalpel to my throat. I was almost killed, but a high-ranking military colonel threw his own body down a flight of concrete stairs to shield me. I survived with cuts and bruises, but when I went home, my mother didn't care about my near-death experience. She was only furious that I had rushed out on my blind date with Preston, a rich financial analyst. She forced me to meet him to apologize. When Preston grabbed my arm, bruised me, and mocked my attack as a pathetic lie, my mother still took his side. "Men get angry," she told me coldly. "It's your job not to provoke them. You will beg for his forgiveness, or you are no longer welcome in this house." I had narrowly escaped an assassin, yet my own family was willing to feed me to a monster just for a fat paycheck and neighborhood gossip. My heart went completely dead. So, when the intimidating Colonel appeared, offering me maximum military protection through a sudden marriage, I didn't hesitate. I walked back into my parents' house and calmly slapped a crisp marriage certificate onto the coffee table. "I won't be apologizing to Preston. I got married today."

Chloe had just given birth to twins, lying exhausted in a cramped, bustling hospital ward. When she called her husband, Julian, he was busy partying with his actress mistress. He coldly hung up on her, having already drafted a brutal divorce agreement that would leave her with a pittance. Strangers in the next bed loudly mocked her pitiful state, gossiping about how Julian was dumping her. For years, Chloe had erased her own identity to fit into his elite world, only to be thrown away like garbage. She was completely alone, clutching her helpless babies, bracing herself to sign the cruel papers just to survive. She couldn't understand why her absolute devotion was met with such chilling indifference. Why did she have to suffer this ultimate humiliation while he celebrated with the woman who ruined her life? But then, a senior doctor noticed a unique mole on her wrist and ran a secret DNA test. The results were staggering: Chloe was the long-lost daughter of the billionaire Beaumont family. With her fiercely protective parents and three powerful brothers suddenly forming an impenetrable fortress around her, Chloe picked up her phone and texted her arrogant husband. "City Hall tomorrow at 10 AM. If you don't show up, my lawyer will handle everything. And trust me, you won't like their terms."

For ten years, Kinsley played the perfect, invisible wife to billionaire Christian Decker. She lived on a meager allowance, secretly pouring her heart into earning first place for a prestigious Hollywood directing fellowship. But on the day her gold-stamped acceptance letter arrived, she stood outside his study and heard him give her hard-earned spot to Blair, his live-in mistress. Christian casually dismissed Kinsley's months of grueling work, claiming a mere housewife didn't need industry resources. He threw an unlimited black credit card on the desk, telling her to go buy some jewelry and stop throwing a tantrum. That same night, he paraded Blair at a Wall Street gala wearing the Decker family's heirloom sapphire, letting Manhattan's elite look at Kinsley with pity and mockery. When Blair boldly moved into their master bedroom, Christian fiercely defended the mistress, warning Kinsley not to cause a scene over nothing. Ten years of quiet devotion were trampled for a fake heiress's vanity. Kinsley looked at the man she had loved, her heart turning completely to ash. She finally understood that in this massive estate, there was never any room for her. She took off her platinum wedding ring, left all his luxury gifts behind, and walked out of the mansion empty-handed. Then, she calmly dialed a private number to her production team. "Scrap the fellowship transition. I'm taking the director's chair directly." She was going to make Blair audition for her on a global live stream, and let Christian watch his precious investment burn.

"Sign the contract, or lose everything." I stared at the papers that would seal my fate-a three-year marriage to Julian Blackwood, the ruthless billionaire they call the Ice King. My family didn't ask. They demanded. My father's company was drowning, my stepsister's engagement had exploded, and I was the replacement bride they could sacrifice. Just another transaction. Julian made it clear on our wedding day: "Don't expect affection. Don't expect companionship. Certainly don't expect love." He refused to kiss me at the altar. He gave me a bedroom down the hall and told me to stay out of his way. I was Mrs. Blackwood in name only-a contract, a convenience, a means to an end. I accepted it. I had survived twelve years of abuse in my own home. I could survive three years of indifference in his. But then Nate, Julian's best friend, showed me kindness, and suddenly my cold husband became possessive. When my sister attacked me, he became protective. Now the man who promised me nothing is fighting his own father to keep me. The marriage that was supposed to be fake is becoming terrifyingly real and the secrets about my mother's death are threatening to destroy everything. They said Julian Blackwood destroys everything he touches. What they didn't tell me... is that sometimes destruction is exactly what you need to be reborn. With a pregnancy involved, how was I going to end this three-year marriage peacefully?

I was the President's Old Lady - and the only reason his MC was still breathing. For three years, I ran every legal business the Serpents of Redemption owned. While Craig chased road glory across state lines, I turned a failing auto shop and a tattoo parlor into the money that kept the brothers fed, the bikes fueled, and the clubhouse lights on. Then he rode home from a two-month run with a sweetbutt on the back of his Harley - and her son. Ginger, he said, had saved his life on the road. So he put her in the main residence, in the room directly across from our bed. He handed her my ledgers and called it repayment. When her son dumped a cup of scalding coffee over my hand, Craig never checked my burns. He scooped up the boy and blamed me. His grandmother - the club's Matriarch - stood before every patched brother and accused me of hurting "family." That night, Craig told me Ginger held a place in his heart I could never reach. A debt of blood he'd honor above me. Three years. My family's fortune. My scarred hand. All of it - worthless next to his roadside savior. So I did the one thing a President never expects his Old Lady to do. I gave back his patch. Now they can keep their empty ledgers. They can play happy family in a clubhouse I built. And when this motorcycle club burns - I'll be the one holding the match.

Chloe went to the Records Office to get a copy of her marriage certificate, hoping to end a petty cold war with her husband of two years. Instead, the clerk looked at her with bored pity and stated there was no record of them. Her marriage was a fake; her certificate was a counterfeit. Panicking, she rushed to Julian's executive office, only to overhear him comforting her former college advisor, Seraphina. "Julian, we've been secretly married for five years," Seraphina cried. "How much longer do I have to wait?" "Darling, it's almost over," Julian's soothing voice echoed. "As soon as the IPO is complete, I'll 'divorce' Chloe. She got us the investors we needed. Her purpose is served." Chloe's blood turned to ice. For two years, she had endured his mother calling her a "barren hen." She had forced down bitter herbal teas and cried in the dark, believing his gentle lies that she was defective. Every shared meal, every whispered promise, was a meticulously crafted scam to use her as a disposable tool. But Julian didn't know that Chloe had just received a life-altering call from an estate lawyer. She is not a humble orphan. Her biological father, the legendary billionaire Marcus Sterling, had just passed away and named her the sole heir to his entire empire. A terrifying calm washed over her as a cold smile touched her lips. The game was on.