Best Romance Novels

Kaitlyn Barton POV: After three years building my family's hotel empire abroad, I came home to New York, expecting a warm embrace from my childhood fiancé, Edwin. Instead, he greeted me with a warning. He told me to be gentle with his new girlfriend, Kacy, painting me as a villain before I even knew her name. At my own welcome-home party, he let her stage a dramatic fall and then publicly blamed me for it, his eyes burning with a hatred I'd never seen. He cradled her in his arms as if she were a fragile doll I had broken. "Happy now, Kaitlyn?" he snarled, shattering twenty years of our shared history in front of everyone we knew. In his eyes, I was no longer his love, but a monster he needed to protect his new flame from. As he stormed out, my phone buzzed. It was a text from Everett Rowe, the man who had quietly loved me for five years. "If you are truly ready, I will marry you. Right now. Just say the word." My fingers moved on their own. "Yes," I typed. "I'll marry you." The moment I stepped back onto New York soil, a city I had once shared completely with Edwin, he greeted me not with a hug, but with a warning about his new girlfriend, painting me as the villain before I even knew her name. Three years abroad, cultivating my family's hotel empire, had prepared me for many business battles, but nothing for the cold, calculated betrayal that awaited me at home. He had replaced me, and then twisted our shared history, turning me into the aggressor he now needed protection from. This was not the reunion I had envisioned, nor the Edwin I remembered. My heart, which had swelled with anticipation, now froze into a solid block of ice.

Today is my fifth wedding anniversary. It's also the day my husband, Ethan, asked me for a divorce for the 38th time. He does this for Ilene, his childhood friend. The woman who crashed her car on our wedding day, leaving her unable to have children. Ever since, he's been repaying a debt of guilt, and I've been the price. For five years, I endured the cycle of divorce and remarriage. But this time was different. Ilene pushed me down a flight of stairs. Ethan found me bleeding and promised me justice. He swore he would make her pay. But days later, the police called. The security footage of the incident had been mysteriously erased. There was no evidence, no case. That night, Ilene had me kidnapped. As her men tore at my clothes in the back of a van, I managed to call Ethan. He rejected my call. I jumped from the moving van. And as I ran for my life, bleeding on the cold asphalt, I made a vow. This time, there would be no 39th remarriage. This time, I would disappear.

Janet woke up gasping, the phantom fire of a deadly explosion still scorching her lungs. She had been reborn three years in the past, on the exact day her mother forced her into a marriage contract with Gaylord Bradford, a paralyzed and severely disfigured billionaire. Before she could even process her second chance, her cousin Kandy kicked the bedroom door open, flaunting a massive diamond ring. Kandy, who had also been reborn, smugly announced she had stolen Janet's Wall Street golden boy fiancé, Jax Adler. "You're going to marry that paralyzed monster," Kandy spat, gloating that she would build a billionaire dynasty with Jax while Janet wiped drool off a rotting corpse. Kandy expected Janet to have a complete mental collapse, completely unaware that Gaylord's own medical team was secretly injecting him with lethal neurotoxins to finish him off. But Janet only felt a cold, clinical pity. Kandy's "prophetic" memories were a polluted lie. Jax was actually sterile and dying of irreversible kidney failure, while Gaylord wasn't a dying freak—he was a dormant god whose body was merely in a high-dimensional hibernation. Why would Janet mourn losing a doomed fraud? Leaving her delusional cousin behind, Janet packed her bags and headed straight to Gaylord's maximum-security military cell. She physically tackled his corrupt doctor, drove three bio-electric silver needles into the crippled king's spine to awaken his deadened nerves, and looked him dead in his glacial blue eye. "Sign the marriage contract," Janet whispered. "I will make you walk again, and we will take back everything."

I was pregnant with the future heir of the Blackwood Pack, but my fated mate, Alpha Gavin, was nowhere to be found when sharp, tearing agony ripped through my swollen belly. Instead of rushing to my side, he was in a luxury penthouse with his mistress, Piper. When I desperately called his human number for help, it was Piper who answered the phone. "I'm Piper. His future Luna." Minutes later, I received a leaked audio file of Gavin promising to formally reject me the moment our pup was born. Before the heartbreak could even set in, my armored SUV was violently rammed off the road by a massive truck. It wasn't an accident. It was a targeted hit paid for by Piper's pack. I woke up in the clinic with an empty womb. My pup was dead. Gavin didn't even show up. He just mind-linked the butler to say he was "too busy" to deal with my loss. He let his mistress murder our child and treated me like disposable trash, assuming my grief would make me a weak, compliant victim. He thought he could just bury my trauma and move on with his perfect new life. He was wrong. I faked my own death in a fiery crash, leaving him with nothing but my signed rejection papers and the bloody receipt proving his mistress hired the killers. Now, armed with a new identity and untraceable wealth, I am stepping out of the shadows. I am going to bankrupt their packs from the inside out and make my former Alpha watch his empire burn.

For three years, I played the perfect, uneducated housewife to my billionaire husband, Bradley. Then I received a photo of him sleeping in our custom bed, a woman's hand resting intimately on his bare chest. It was my half-sister. When I confronted him, he didn't apologize. He defended her, saying she was just scared of thunderstorms. "You are her sister. Why is your mind so dirty?" I handed him signed divorce papers, leaving with absolutely nothing. He sneered, pointing at the door. "A woman who didn't even finish high school? You will be begging on the streets in a week!" Later, he violently dragged me away from a friend's house, only to kick me out of his car on a freezing, pitch-black mountain road just because my half-sister called crying about a power outage. Standing alone in the dark with bleeding heels, the last ounce of warmth in my heart turned to solid ice. He truly thought I was a helpless nobody who would eventually crawl back to him in tears. He had no idea who he had really married. The next morning, I put on a tailored power suit, walked into the towering headquarters of MY Corporation, and took the Chairman's seat. It was time for him to meet Anna, the mysterious business tycoon he was about to go to war with.

For ten years, I was the perfect, obedient wife to my wealthy husband, managing his severe OCD and hosting flawless high-society parties. But on our tenth anniversary, when I brought him his special hangover soup, I caught him sleeping with my younger sister in our master bedroom. Instead of panicking, he coldly handed me divorce papers with zero assets. He told me I was just a "placeholder" until my sister finished her degree and was ready to take my spot. Desperate, I called my mother for help, only to find out she had known about their affair for years. "You don't have Jana's drive or her looks. You clean house and you cook. That's not a wife, that's a domestic." My own mother sneered at me, telling me to walk away quietly because our family needed his financial support. They kicked me out of the penthouse with nothing but a suitcase, laughing that a woman who hadn't worked in a decade would end up begging on the streets. I bled for this family for ten years, only to be thrown away like garbage when my sister wanted my life. But they didn't know that while I was playing the boring housewife, I had secretly earned a Cordon Bleu diploma, a Cornell nutrition certification, and a Columbia master's degree. Using a hidden photo to blackmail a property out of him, I packed my elite credentials and landed a $300,000-a-year job managing a billionaire's estate. When my ex-husband drunkenly called days later demanding I come back to serve him, I calmly hit block.

"You are getting married, huh?" A shrill voice asked me from behind. "You don't look happy.' "It's a complicated situati..." He cut me off. "I can make you happy." My eyes darted between his lips and eyes, he noticed my indecision and locked his lips with mine. While battling with betrayal, Iris melts into a mafia's touch without knowing who he is. Now she must bear all the consequences that follow.

Chantal Lewis's family legacy was twenty-four hours away from a fifty-million-dollar foreclosure. Desperate to save her parents, she sold her soul, offering herself as a paper wife to Dell Valdez, a ruthless Wall Street billionaire needing a quick PR fix. But Dell didn't just buy her; he trapped her in a living nightmare. He forced her into a brutal three-year repayment plan she could never afford, treated her like a disposable prop, and deliberately leaked a scandalous paparazzi photo to destroy her hard-earned professional credibility. Worst of all, the first time his calloused hand touched hers, a violent, terrifying flashback assaulted her brain. The scorching heat of his palms and the distinct, dark scent of his cedarwood cologne perfectly matched the repressed memory of a pitch-black room where she was pinned to a mattress against her will. Chantal didn't understand why her cold-blooded fake husband felt exactly like the monster from her unspoken trauma. She understood even less why, after months of ignoring her, he was suddenly acting violently jealous and possessive when she merely smiled at another man! Why did his scent match her attacker, and what was he truly planning? Furious, she called him to threaten a divorce, only for his voice to drop into a lethal whisper. "Try it. See what happens." Before she could process his deadly threat, her office phone rang. "Ms. Lewis," her receptionist trembled. "Your brother is in the lobby. He owes money to some very bad people, and they are coming here right now."

My fiancé, Knox, was the man I’d spent ten years building a life with, the one I’d poured my family’s fortune into. But then I found the lockbox. Inside, a photo of him smiling, his arm around a heavily pregnant woman, marked: *To my only wife Deana.* I’d been looking for a charger in our Boston penthouse closet when I stumbled upon it. The faded Polaroid showed Knox, younger, beaming, with a heavily pregnant stranger. Its timestamp: "Ten years ago"—the exact year I funded his Ivy League PhD. Flipping the photo, I saw Knox’s familiar handwriting: *To my only wife Deana and our upcoming miracle.* My world crumbled. The man I’d loved had a wife, making me the unwitting mistress. My opulent life was built on his lies. His text, "Baby, I'm coming home to *our house*," twisted into a cruel joke. My tears froze. A decade of sacrifices, of family alienation—all for a man who used my money and trust—shredded in my mind. The fragile woman in me vanished; my eyes turned cold and clear. I relocked the box, smoothed the rug, and applied crimson lipstick. Practicing a flawless smile, I whispered, "Welcome home, my sweet liar."

Betrayed by her sister. Killed by her husband. Reborn, Sarah returns with one goal-revenge. This time, she won't be the fool. And with the Knox, the most dangerous man by her side... she'll ruin them all, and take back everything that belongs to her. Promotional line: They killed me once. This time, I'll destroy them first.

For twelve years, Cora lived in silent agony, loving her boss Bennett Hodges while serving as his perfect, invisible secretary. But after one night of drunken despair, she woke up in a stranger's penthouse. The man, an indie musician named Callum, showed her viral paparazzi photos of her ripping his shirt off and demanded a fake marriage to save his career. Cora immediately agreed, desperately needing a legal shield. Bennett had just ordered her to attend a gala as the personal date of a billionaire known for sending women to the ER. When Cora refused and showed Bennett her marriage certificate, he thought it was a pathetic bluff. To force her submission, Bennett froze her entire savings, permanently denied her hard-earned department transfer, and watched with a smug smile as his sister humiliated Cora for being the "maid's daughter." He wanted to completely destroy her life until she crawled back begging. Looking at her ruined design portfolio scattered on the floor, Cora felt her heart turn to ice. She had dedicated her entire youth to a man who saw her as nothing more than a piece of furniture that knew its place. How could she have blindly loved such a cruel, controlling monster for so long? The violent shaking in her hands stopped, replaced by a terrifying calm. "I have documented every single abusive directive from this office." She flashed the massive diamond her new fake husband had given her, threatened to burn Bennett's pristine reputation to the ground, and finally walked away.

I was the devoted Luna of the Blackwood Pack, bound to my fated mate, Alpha Ryker. But he coldly rejected our sacred bond for a pure-blooded she-wolf, tossing me aside like garbage. That was when a cold voice in my head revealed the horrifying truth. "Your fate is to be rejected, a tragic footnote in their epic love story." My entire life was a scripted prophecy controlled by a twisted entity. According to the script, I was supposed to be locked away, my inner wolf withering from the broken bond until I died in agony. The entity even confessed to orchestrating the murder of Alpha Gideon, the only father figure I ever had, just to keep our bloodline enslaved to this sick narrative. I refused to be a ghost in someone else's happily ever after. Why should my family die and my soul be erased just to serve a predetermined fate? Instead of crying like the prophecy demanded, I tore my own soul apart to shatter the ancient Scroll of Fate, destroying the entity itself. Opening my eyes again, I was back to being a ten-year-old child. It was the exact day my lifelong trauma began. "Do as I say, Elara. Do not make any more trouble for me." My mother was trying to force me to take the blame for a bully, just to save her own reputation. This time, I am writing the script.

My world revolved around Jax Harding, my older brother's captivating rockstar friend. From sixteen, I adored him; at eighteen, I clung to his casual promise: "When you're 22, maybe I'll settle down." That offhand comment became my life's beacon, guiding every choice, meticulously planning my twenty-second birthday as our destiny. But on that pivotal day in a Lower East Side bar, clutching my gift, my dream exploded. I overheard Jax' s cold voice: "Can't believe Savvy's showing up. She' s still hung up on that stupid thing I said." Then the crushing plot: "We' re gonna tell Savvy I' m engaged to Chloe, maybe even hint she' s pregnant. That should scare her off." My gift, my future, slipped from my numb fingers. I fled into the cold New York rain, devastated by betrayal. Later, Jax introduced Chloe as his "fiancée" while his bandmates mocked my "adorable crush"-he did nothing. As an art installation fell, he saved Chloe, abandoning me to severe injury. In the hospital, he came for "damage control," then shockingly shoved me into a fountain, leaving me to bleed, calling me a "jealous psycho." How could the man I loved, who once saved me, become this cruel and publicly humiliate me? Why was my devotion seen as an annoyance to be brutally extinguished with lies and assault? Was I just a problem, my loyalty met with hatred? I would not be his victim. Injured and betrayed, I made an unshakeable vow: I was done. I blocked his number and everyone connected to him, severing ties. This was not an escape; this was my rebirth. Florence awaited, a new life on my terms, unburdened by broken promises.

To save my family's dying company, I was forced to marry a billionaire I hadn't seen in fourteen years. But right outside the City Clerk's office, he tossed our marriage certificate at me like a cheap receipt and shoved a four-year-old boy into my arms. "Your new life has begun. You're on babysitting duty now." He sneered and left me stranded on the sidewalk. I realized with absolute horror that my new husband was Ellsworth Marshall, the sickly boy I had relentlessly bullied in middle school. He didn't spend five billion dollars to save the Bradford family. He bought me to execute a slow, suffocating revenge. He used his orphaned nephew as a pawn, explicitly threatening my father that if I failed to play the perfect, compliant nanny, he would instantly destroy our family's legacy. He even had his guards lock me out of his Long Island estate on my first night, forcing me to stand in the cold dark just to prove he owned me. I was trapped in a gilded cage, suffocated by the guilt of my past and the terror of my present. Why did he involve an innocent child in his twisted vendetta? How much humiliation was enough to pay for my childhood cruelty? Looking at the terrified little boy clinging to my skirt, I tightened my grip on my suitcase. If he wanted to destroy my will piece by piece, I had to find a way to survive the monster I created.

On the night of our engagement party, I thought I had finally escaped the dark shadow of my mother's scandalous past. But my fiancé, Ashton, shattered my world with a single, cruel demand. He coldly announced he was marrying a wealthy executive for a business alliance, and I was to remain his secret lover in the shadows. He weaponized my mother's tragic suicide, claiming my ruined reputation made me unfit to be his official wife. When I firmly refused and threw the ring back, his new fiancée shoved me, shattered her own emerald brooch, and framed me in front of the arriving elite guests. "Look at her! A scandalous woman just like her mother!" Ashton didn't defend me. He pulled her close and watched impassively as the crowd poured wine over my head and kicked me to the marble floor. I curled up in the cold rain, unable to comprehend how the savior who once protected me from bullies had become my absolute worst tormentor. Why did he pull me out of the darkness only to bury me in it himself? But I refused to let history repeat itself and end up dead like my mother. Bleeding and drenched, I dragged myself up and climbed onto a private helicopter waiting on the roof. I left him and that cruel city behind forever. Eighteen years later, when I stood at the pinnacle of my industry with a loving husband by my side, a ruined, emaciated Ashton finally found me, begging for a single glance.

I spent the night with a stranger... Who got me pregnant... And turned out to be my boss... Whoops, sorry, did I say "boss"? I meant a MOB boss. To be fair, I didn't know he was my boss when I slept with him. I thought he was just the kind stranger offering me a place to stay. But one night in Misha Orlov's hotel room got me way more than I bargained for. It got me champagne that tasted like starlight. Satin sheets as soft as a dream. And a man with silver eyes who showed me how it felt to come undone. And then, in the morning... He was gone. That's I needed to get my life together anyway. After all, my ex-not-quite-husband (it's a long story) just emptied all our bank accounts and disappeared, taking my home and my money and my job with him. So I'm starting from a blank slate. I find myself a new apartment. A new job. And I put both Misha and my husband behind me. At least, I thought I did. Until Day 1 of orientation. When I learn that Misha Orlov is my new boss. That's bad enough. What's worse is what came next. A car crash. A doctor's appointment. And two pieces of unsettling news. Congratulations, the doctor says. You're pregnant. Congratulations, Misha says. You and I are getting married.

I thought running from the mate who used me as a pawn and rejected me would be the end of my cruel fate. I was wrong. I ran straight into a pack that didn't just hate me, but also wanted me dead. My alpha stepbrothers: Quin, Rio, and Hunter. They're called the Three Devils: dangerous, wild, and untamed. Quin wants to claim my rut. Rio wants to mark me. And Hunter? He's ready to burn the world just to make me his. But the Moon Goddess doesn't play fair. Pack laws don't bend...not even for Alphas. And now we're trapped in a web of fate that will either bind us together or tear us apart completely. This is a dangerous game, and I dread who the winner will be: the feral alpha, the biker president, or the sex god?

For five years, Casey played the perfect, obedient contract wife to the billionaire Bartholomew Hendricks. On their fifth anniversary, she waited five hours in front of a cold dinner, only to be called to pick him up from a club. When she arrived, she found him in a VIP room, looking softly at his assistant, Halie. Around Halie's neck was the massive blue sapphire necklace Casey thought was her anniversary gift. The crowd of elites openly mocked her, calling her the pathetic little contract wife. Halie shrank back into Bartholomew's arms and squeezed out fake tears. Instead of defending his wife, Bartholomew's eyes turned to solid ice. "Why are you interrupting my friends?" He ordered her to stop throwing a tantrum and drive him home. The humiliation peaked when his aunt violently slapped Casey across the face in a crowded hospital corridor during a family emergency. Bartholomew just watched her bleed, only caring about the family's reputation in the tabloids. Standing there with a bruised cheek and a bleeding lip, Casey looked at the man she had loved. There was no anger left, no sadness, only a freezing, absolute emptiness. She finally realized her humanity meant nothing to him. She took off her five-carat diamond ring, packed only the cheap clothes she came with, and handed him a net-zero divorce settlement. Bartholomew thought she would starve and come crawling back, completely unaware that she was secretly a multi-millionaire author who was about to turn his world upside down.

As a wolfless Omega, I just wanted to be worthy of my Alpha mate, Kael. So when his mother asked me to secretly deliver a classified treaty, I didn't hesitate. But it was a trap. The room she sent me to held a half-naked Rogue and a forged treaty ceding Pack lands. Kael kicked the door down and caught us. He didn't listen to my pleas. My best friend stood by and lied, claiming I was planning to fake a pregnancy to trap him. When I desperately cried out that I was actually two months pregnant with his heir, Kael looked at me with absolute disgust. "The thought of you carrying anything of mine makes my very soul sick." He formally rejected me, severed our mate-bond, and banished me to the wild. That night, a Rogue hired by his mother attacked me in the woods. He kicked my stomach until my baby was gone. When I woke up in a sterile hospital, I sent Kael one last desperate text about our murdered child. His reply was cold: "Stop the lies. You are dead to me." He then used his billionaire influence to blacklist me from every home and job in the city. I was left penniless, bleeding, and hunted by the man who once swore to protect me. My grief calcified into pure, vicious hatred. With nowhere to go, I risked my life to save an elderly woman in an alley. Her grandson arrived—Declan Kane, a terrifyingly powerful Lycan King whose authority dwarfed any Alpha. He offered me absolute protection from the Blackwoods if I agreed to a deal. I took his hand. This time, I would survive, and I would make them all bleed.

Ten years as childhood friends and three as husband and wife ended in her husband's betrayal, and her brothers' indifference. Diagnosed with mid-stage stomach cancer, Roselyn saw the truth of her life. She walked away from everything, rising from an overlooked office worker to a leading figure in the tech world. She outplayed her husband into signing divorce papers. When they met again, he begged, "I was wrong... take me back. I'd give you my stomach if I could." Her once arrogant brothers pleaded too, but she felt nothing. After all, love that arrived too late meant nothing to her now-she simply didn't care anymore. As they stood desperate, a man stepped forward and wrapped her in his arms. "Why waste time on them? Look at me instead."

Alysia lay on the freezing operating table, moments away from donating her kidney to her brother's fiancée. But as the anesthesia set in, a violent shock tore through her brain, awakening agonizing memories of a thousand brutal deaths across a thousand past lifetimes. She suddenly realized her family's true plan. Her brother and his fiancée weren't just taking her organ; they were secretly plotting to declare her mentally unfit post-surgery to steal her entire trust fund. When Alysia abruptly stopped the procedure and exposed the fiancée's kidney failure as the result of severe drug abuse, her family's reaction was chilling. Her father didn't care about the truth or the law. He ordered his bodyguards to lock Alysia up until she agreed to the surgery, while her brother threatened to freeze her assets and seize her late mother's penthouse. "You have no heart, Alysia. You don't deserve the Kent name," her aunt spat in disgust. For lifetimes, she had kept her head down, taking the blame and sacrificing everything for a family that viewed her as nothing more than a disposable blood bag and a financial pawn. The resignation that had clouded her eyes for so long vanished, replaced by the absolute, zero-degree cold of a glacier. Ripping the IV from her hand and leaving her family in stunned silence, Alysia walked straight out of the hospital. She had exactly forty-six hours to find a husband to secure her inheritance, and she knew exactly which ruthless billionaire CEO to target to help her burn the Kent family to the ground.

Five years ago, Nina Hale lost everything... her family, her reputation, and the man she once loved. Betrayed by her own sister and abandoned by those she trusted most, she disappeared without a trace. Now she's back. With a new identity and a burning determination, Nina is ready to reclaim her life and chase the dream she once gave up: becoming a star actress. But her return awakens old enemies, and her scheming sister Lydia is determined to ruin her again. Just when Nina thinks things can't get worse, she's caught in another trap... and unexpectedly crosses paths with a quiet, lonely little boy. Ethan Grant hasn't spoken in years. Feeling responsible for him, Nina agrees to stay and help the child come out of his shell. But she didn't expect Ethan's dangerously charming father, Lucas Grant, to enter the picture. Cold, powerful, and impossible to read, Lucas slowly finds himself drawn to the woman who brightens his son's world. What begins as a simple act of kindness soon turns into something far more complicated, because Nina came back for revenge. She never planned to fall in love. ********** "I saw you with him," Lucas said quietly, but the tension in his jaw gave him away. Nina exhaled, crossing her arms. "You don't get to care." "Don't I?" He stepped in, close enough that she had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes. "This is just a contract." "Then why does it bother me?" His hand hovered near her waist, not touching-yet. "It shouldn't." Her breath faltered. His gaze darkened, "And yet it does."

My abusive step-family isolated me completely, holding my mother's medical funds hostage to control my every move. Yesterday, they finalized my sale. "You will marry Rudy Petrov next month. He is fifty, wealthy, and willing to overlook your lack of pedigree." Pushed to the absolute edge, I did the insane. I posted an ad online offering my life savings of $50,000 for a contract husband. A stranger named Brennan agreed. But my family wouldn't let me go. They forced me back for a dinner by threatening my mother's life-saving prescriptions. At the table, they relentlessly mocked my new "poor IT guy" husband and intentionally burned my hand with boiling tea. Worse, the housekeeper locked me in a guest room and forced drugs down my throat so Rudy could come in and assault me. I lay there paralyzed on the floor, bleeding from Rudy's slap, utterly terrified. I couldn't understand why my own family would throw me to the wolves, and I felt a crushing guilt for dragging an innocent, ordinary guy into my nightmare. Until a pitch-black Maybach smashed through the estate's wrought-iron gates at eighty miles an hour. My "poor" husband kicked the solid oak doors off their hinges, beat Rudy half to death, and carried me out into the rain. I didn't know it yet, but the ordinary man I hired to save me was a ruthless billionaire, and he was about to erase my family's entire empire by morning.

I was supposed to marry Aaron, the future Alpha of the Blackwood Pack, and finally have my fairy tale. But right before our Unity Celebration, I caught him buried between my stepsister's legs in our bridal suite. When I refused to bind my soul to his at the altar and exposed his betrayal, my world completely shattered. My own mother called me a crazy, wolfless bitch and disowned me on the spot for ruining a political alliance. Aaron publicly humiliated me, screaming that as a wolfless Omega, I should have been on my knees thanking him for the chance to be his breeding mare. Driven to absolute despair by the betrayal of everyone I trusted, I tried to jump off a freezing roof. But a pair of strong arms pulled me back from the edge. In the dark, a stranger consumed my grief, wrapping me in a terrifyingly dominant scent of cedar and leather, making me feel an intoxicating mate bond I thought I was incapable of having. I thought it was just a desperate, one-night mistake to make me forget. But the next morning, when I went to the Blackwood estate to return Aaron's gifts and leave as a Rogue, a suffocating aura filled the room. The man who stepped between me and my furious ex-fiancé, the man whose marks were currently hidden beneath my clothes, stared at me with glowing golden eyes. "Get your hands off her." He was Kaelon Blackwood. The supreme Alpha King. Aaron's father. And he had just locked the door, declaring that I belonged to him.