They said the prophecy was an ancient myth-whispered, tucked between the covers of bedtime tales, always ending in blood. But Aria was always drawn to the forbidden, to the whisper of trees after sunset, to the wolf-song that lulled her to sleep. Born under a dwindling moon, with a silver crescent stamped barely above her heart, she was not the same from the start. The village midwife had gone pale when she'd caught sight of the mark. Her mother had held her tighter, whispering prayers. The old stories warned that a girl like her would call the Wolf King back. No one ever said what he would do once he came back. Now, she knew. On the night of the Blood Moon, he came out of the forest, tall and unyielding, his eyes burning embers and his voice a wisp of smoke that curled around her. He didn't speak at first-he only looked at her, as if she was the last piece in a puzzle, he'd been trying for centuries to finish. "Waited lifetimes for you," he whispered, his hand cradling her cheek, rough and warm. His touch shouldn't have shivered down her spine-but it did. She should have screamed. Should have run. Yet her body leaned into his, as if it recalled something her mind had forgotten long ago. "You're mine, little moon," he whispered against her flesh. "Not because the prophecy requires it. but because I've burned for you in every single life I've ever had." Her heart was racing in her chest, caught between fear and desire. She was no warrior. No princess. Just a girl with too many questions and not enough sense to say no to the crazy fire in his eyes. And yet, when he pulled her into his arms and carried her into the forest, when the pack closed around them and the stars wheeled overhead, Aria didn't fight. She held on tight. For deep in her heart, something wild stirred. Something that wanted to love him. Or kill him. The Wolf King had claimed her as his. But Aria was no one's prey.
The folks of elder grove had many rules.
Don't stray from the paths at night.
Don't leave your windows open during full moon.
And never, ever speak of the Wolf King.
Aria had broken all three before she turned nineteen.
She sat at the edge of the forest now, wind whipping around her like curious fingers, her bare feet grazing soft moss. Her name was whispered by the trees, though there was no one else around. The scent of rain hung in the air, yet the skies were clear-a sign, some would say. But Aria was never curious about signs.
She was only curious about silence.
The village was preparing for the Festival of Moons. Bright banners fluttered between rooftops, and silver coins had been sewn into dresses with shaky hands. At sunset, the villagers would place offerings at the tree line-tokens of peace, tribute for silence. But it was all pretenses. No one had seen the Wolf King in over a hundred years.
And yet. the forest still watched.
Aria lay back on her elbows, eyes straying up to the sickle moon in the late afternoon sky. Its shape was one her mother called the Hunter's Curve. There were some who whispered it was the mark of fate.
But Aria bore her own curve-branded into her skin just above her heart. A crescent-shaped birthmark, pale as milk and warm to the touch when the moon was full.
She didn't know what it meant. Only that it made people stare.
"Aria!"
She turned at the sound of her sister's voice. Lila came running across the field, skirts hitched in one hand, a basket swinging in the other.
"You're going to miss the ceremony," Lila huffed. "Mother's already in a twist."
Aria sighed and rose to her feet, brushing moss from her skirts. "She's always in a twist. About something."
"This time it's serious. The High Seer is here. She's doing the blessing." Lila wrinkled her nose. "Creepy old thing. Keeps asking if you've been. feeling different."
Aria's heart gave a subtle flutter.
"Different how?"
"Like headaches. Dreams. Strange urges to run into the woods and never come back." Lila rolled her eyes. "The usual doomsday nonsense."
Aria didn't answer. She had been dreaming. For months, now. Strange, vivid things. A forest covered in silver frost. A pair of golden eyes watching her from the darkness. A man with a crown of bone and a cloak of fur and ash.
He always called her the same thing.
Little moon.
She never said anything to anyone.
By sundown, elder grove was vibrant with firelight and song. Aria stood at the back of the group; her silver-thread dress too tight at the sleeves. Her mother had braided blue flowers into her hair, praying under her breath the entire time.
"Be still," she had warned. "Don't make a scene."
Aria wasn't trying to-but it always managed to find her anyway.
The High Seer moved in front of the bonfire, her face hidden behind a veil of smoke and silk. She held a bowl of Moonwater and ash and moved along the line of girls, anointing their foreheads with gleaming grey.
When she reached Aria, she halted.
There was a silence that rippled through the crowd.
She, the Seer breathed. Her voice was soft as moth wings, but it stung like frost. "You," she said. "You are the marked one."
Aria was frozen.
The Seer put a cold thumb on her forehead and whispered a word in a language no one else knew. Aria's skin crawled. Her birthmark flared.
Then the wind rose.
Not a breeze-a wail.
The bonfire sputtered. Banners tore from their strings. The music died as every villager turned toward the tree line. The woods were not quiet now.
From the darkened edge, someone stepped.
Tall. Cloaked in black. Fur trimmed his shoulders. Antlers grew from an iron crown, twisted like the roots of an old tree. And eyes-gold burning bright, fixed on Aria as if he'd found the one thing, he'd searched for all his life.
Gasps rolled like thunder.
"Wolf King," a voice breathed.
The legends hadn't done him justice.
He wasn't a monster. Not exactly. His face was human-sharp, striking, carved from stone and secrets. Yet something beneath his skin moved, as if barely restrained. His presence weighed heavy on the air, bearing down like a storm.
And he was walking straight for her.
Aria's feet wouldn't move. Her heart pounded like a war drum.
He stopped a breath away.
"You are mine," he said. Not a question. Not a plea. A claim.
Aria looked up at him. "You're supposed to be a myth."
His lips curled into an almost-smile. "And you were supposed to be a dream."
Then he reached for her.
The villagers shrieked. Her mother wept. Lila called out her name.
But when his arms closed around her and the world shattered into wind and darkness, Aria didn't scream.
For deep within her, something old awakened.
Something that whispered, at last.
They tell of no benefit resulting from roaming the woods after dark. They tell of mountains that hold a monster with silver eyes and an accursed heart colder than winter itself. And Lyra had never been one to believe in fairy tales-not until the evening she found him bleeding in the snowfall, his hot and heavy breath against the cold. A wolf, enormous and shaking, fell at her feet as if fate had sent him. She ought to have run. She ought to have left him there to perish. But she did not. She touched him. And that was it. The monster became a man in her touch. Scarred. Handsome. Pitiful. His voice, like thunder low. His eyes, like moonlight trapped in ice. And on his body, a mark that shone like magic and memory. "I am cursed," he told her. "To love me is to lose everything." But it was too late. For in the firelight of her little cottage, candle flame that danced and shadows that provided secrets, her heart began to unravel. And somewhere in the stillness and snowflakes... she began to wonder if the worst peril was not the curse, but to love the one it bound.
Some love stories never end. Some curses never die. As Emily Gray enters the tiny, abandoned town of Durnham Hollow to research the estate she's inherited from a distant, deceased relative she's never met, she has no idea she's entering a life she's already lived. centuries ago. Within the crumbling walls of Blackwood Estate is a cursed wedding dress, a stubborn mirror that will not share the moment, and a veil that breathes out forgotten vows. While Emily works to uncover the mystery of a dead bride, Isabella Blackwood, she finds herself receiving visions, memories. and someone else's feelings. For Emily is more than a guest to this haunted house-she is Isabella, reincarnate. And he-the unloosening groom-has waited. Tied by a blood oath and a love that overcame death, the ghost of the groom has waited for centuries, observing, waiting for the soul of his beloved to return so their incomplete wedding can at last be completed... even if it means pulling Emily into death to make it so. Now Emily is forced to confront a terror worse than her worst nightmares: to escape is to lose a part of herself, but to surrender is to seal her fate for eternity. To shatter the curse, she will need to uncover what actually occurred on that fateful wedding night... and confront the ghost of a love that will not die. Will she cut the threads of the cursed-or be woven into them once more?
Janet was adopted when she was a kid -- a dream come true for orphans. However, her life was anything but happy. Her adoptive mother taunted and bullied her all her life. Janet got the love and affection of a parent from the old maid who raised her. Unfortunately, the old woman fell ill, and Janet had to marry a worthless man in place of her parents' biological daughter to meet the maid's medical expenses. Could this be a Cinderella's tale? But the man was far from a prince, except for his handsome appearance. Ethan was the illegitimate son of a wealthy family who lived a reckless life and barely made ends meet. He got married to fulfill his mother's last wish. However, on his wedding night, he had an inkling that his wife was different from what he had heard about her. Fate had united the two people with deep secrets. Was Ethan truly the man we thought he was? Surprisingly, he bore an uncanny resemblance to the impenetrable wealthiest man in the city. Would he find out that Janet married him in place of her sister? Would their marriage be a romantic tale or an utter disaster? Read on to unravel Janet and Ethan's journey.
The day Raina gave birth should have been the happiest of her life. Instead, it became her worst nightmare. Moments after delivering their twins, Alexander shattered her heart-divorcing her and forcing her to sign away custody of their son, Liam. With nothing but betrayal and heartbreak to her name, Raina disappeared, raising their daughter, Ava, on her own.Years later, fate comes knocking when Liam falls gravely ill. Desperate to save his son, Alexander is forced to seek out the one person he once cast aside. Alexander finds himself face to face with the woman he underestimated, pleading for a second chance-not just for himself, but for their son. But Raina is no longer the same broken woman who once loved him.No longer the woman he left behind. She has carved out a new life-one built on strength, wealth, and a long-buried legacy she expected to uncover.Raina has spent years learning to live without him.The question is... Will she risk reopening old wounds to save the son she never got to love? or has Alexander lost her forever?
"Mr. Evans, please maintain some dignity. Don't forget I'm your brother's wife!" Having caught her husband and best friend together in the bed, Elena wanted nothing more than to exact revenge on the people she once called family. She refused to be a pitiful divorcee and vowed to make everyone who had once looked down on her beg for forgiveness. And to start with her newfound freedom, Elena indulges in a one-night stand with a stranger. However, what was meant to be a fleeting escape turns into a nightmare when she learns that the stranger is none other than her husband's older brother! Would Elena be free from the shackles of her marriage? Or would the mysterious stranger make her life a living hell since he seemed to have a personal vendetta against his family? [The story is 18+ and involves mature content.]
Lucia Balstone thought she had chosen the right man to spend the rest of her life with, but he was the one who ended her life. Their ten-year marriage seemed like a joke when her husband stabbed her with a dagger. Fortunately, God is never blind to people's tears. Lucia got a second chance. She was reborn at the age of 22, before all the terrible things had happened. This time, she was determined to avenge herself and let those who hurt her pay! She made an elaborate list of her goals, and the first thing on her list was to marry her ex-husband's enemy, Alonso Callen!
Belinda thought after divorce, they would part ways for good - he could live his life on his own terms, while she could indulge in the rest of hers. However, fate had other plans in store. "My darling, I was wrong. Would you please come back to me?" The man, whom she once loved deeply, lowered his once proud head humbly. "I beg you to return to me." Belinda coldly pushed away the bouquet of flowers he had offered her and coolly replied, "It's too late. The bridge has been burned, and the ashes have long since scattered to the wind!"
Kaelyn devoted three years tending to her husband after a terrible accident. But once he was fully recovered, he cast her aside and brought his first love back from abroad. Devastated, Kaelyn decided on a divorce as people mocked her for being discarded. She went on to reinvent herself, becoming a highly sought-after doctor, a champion racer, and an internationally renowned architectural designer. Even then, the traitors sneered in disdain, believing Kaelyn would never find someone. But then the ex-husband’s uncle, a powerful warlord, returned with his army to ask for Kaelyn’s hand in marriage.