My Brother's Fiancée is My Mate

Content: (Warning! + 18 Sexual elements, Alpha Wolf, Witch, Cursed Love, Small Town, Young Wolf, War, Age Gap, Passion, Consensual Fantasy, Psychological Elements, Strong Female Lead, Drama, Romance) Bound by blood, sealed by magic. You have finally come, Rose's daughter... Eva Rose is the last and most powerful heir of a sacred witch bloodline. Kael is a cursed Crimson Alpha King. Centuries ago, on the night they discovered they were fated mates and were about to be married, their enemies attacked to destroy them both. To save Kael, Eva made a desperate choice , she trapped him in a magical sleep for 200 years. The price was her own life. But their love was so powerful that Eva did not truly die , she was reborn. Through her own bloodline, she returned to the world as the same woman, with the same soul, the same heart. Now, who is friend and who is enemy? And why does this man feel so strangely familiar? How can you escape someone who even visits your dreams?. 📌📚🔥

I worked three double shifts at the garage just to buy a velvet-boxed cake for my wealthy girlfriend, Arleen. But when I pushed open the VIP room door, I saw her lover kissing her bare leg. She didn't push him away. Instead, she laughed and swirled her martini. "I only forgot Finn because I knew he would stay. He is a poor boy from Queens who follows me around like a loyal dog." Later that night, her lover intentionally crashed a Porsche to scare me, sending a piece of jagged metal into my skull. Lying in a growing pool of my own blood, I watched Arleen crawl out of the wreckage. She didn't even look at me. She threw herself at her uninjured lover, screaming for a medic. "He just got scraped by a piece of plastic. He is faking it. Deal with Jaquez first!" When I woke up, I wasn't free. Arleen had locked me in a private hospital wing with 24-hour security, planning to isolate me and keep me as her broken, captive toy forever. My blind, pathetic devotion finally froze into absolute disgust. I looked at the heart monitor next to my bed and grabbed an IV needle. I severed the sensor wire to trigger a flatline, slipped out the fire stairs while the nurses panicked, and burned my identity to ashes. This time, I was going to disappear to London, build my own empire, and watch hers burn.

Elara Voss was rejected by her Alpha on the night of the Blood Moon - cast aside as a nobody with no wolf, no rank, and no future. She ran. But fate had other plans. In the human world, she collides with Damien Crest - cold, ruthless billionaire by day, the last living Shadowking by night. He offers her a contract marriage. She has nowhere else to go. But ancient markings are awakening on her skin. A god is whispering her name. And Kael, the fearsome Werewolf High King, has declared across all supernatural realms that she is his fated mate. Two kings. Two worlds. One woman who was never supposed to matter. They all rejected her once. Now they'll burn their empires down to claim her.

Clara supported her boyfriend Leo for four years, paying his rent and buying his headshots while working dead-end extra gigs. On his twenty-sixth birthday, she caught him in their bed with Veronica, a wealthy producer's daughter who constantly stole Clara's roles. Leo mocked Clara as a "pathetic, poor stepping stone" who was just there until he got his foot in the door. Veronica threatened to ruin Clara's career forever. Clara dumped him, packed her bags, and impulsively entered a contract marriage with a cold stranger she met at City Hall. But her nightmare wasn't over. When her mother suddenly needed a $200,000 emergency brain surgery, Clara was forced to take a demeaning extra gig to survive. There, Veronica and her starlet friend cornered Clara. They mocked her cheap clothes, ridiculed her new wedding ring as fake glass, and intentionally poured scalding coffee on her feet. "Well, maid, you better clean that up." Veronica laughed, forcing Clara to her knees to wipe up the burning liquid while snapping photos. Clara swallowed her burning humiliation, secretly recording their abuse on her phone. She endured the pain, desperate for the $300 day rate to save her mother's life, feeling entirely crushed by their overwhelming wealth and power. What she didn't know was that outside the soundstage, her new contract husband—the man she thought was just a struggling, broke tech worker—was sitting in a sleek black Maybach. He watched his wife kneeling on the floor, and his dark eyes filled with a lethal, terrifying rage.

Isabella thought she had the perfect life as the wealthy Conrad family heiress, complete with a loving childhood sweetheart. Until she woke up drugged in a hotel bed, blinded by paparazzi flashes, as her fiancé pointed a shaking finger at her, screaming that she had drugged and seduced him. "She threatened to ruin Kaylie if I didn't sleep with her!" he yelled to the cameras. Kaylie, the newly discovered biological daughter, stood in the doorway weeping perfectly. Within hours, Isabella's adoptive father publicly severed all ties, froze her assets, and kicked her out into a violent thunderstorm. Fleeing the city, her car's brakes suddenly failed. As Isabella lay dying in the crushed metal of her Porsche, Kaylie strolled up with a pristine umbrella and a genuine smile. "The mechanic was quite expensive, but cutting the brake lines was worth every penny," Kaylie laughed. Isabella coughed up blood, her heart turning to ice. Her twenty years of family, love, and loyalty had been nothing but a cruel joke, destroyed by a calculated frame-up. She died suffocating on absolute betrayal and unadulterated hatred. Then, she gasped for air. She wasn't dead. She was sitting in the driver's seat of her car, staring at her flawless reflection in the rearview mirror. It was exactly four years ago—the day the real heiress first arrived. A chilling smirk curled the corner of Isabella's mouth. This time, she was going to rip their lives apart from the inside out.

My family's company went bankrupt, and my biological father was lying in the ICU, kept alive by machines that cost tens of thousands a day. I thought it was just a tragic business failure, until I caught my mother in bed with my stepfather. They had secretly transferred all our assets months ago, deliberately bankrupting the company and leaving my father to die. To pay the hospital bills, my stepfather forced me to a private club, trying to sell me to a sleazy investor. When I refused, he slapped me across the face, and my mother just looked at me with cold, dead eyes. "Be realistic, Jaelynn. A woman's body is a tool. Use it to get what you need." Later, right before my father's emergency surgery, my stepfather signed a Do Not Resuscitate order and froze the medical accounts. "If you don't get on your knees and spread your legs for him, I will tell the hospital to pull your father's plug." Standing in the freezing rain, covered in mud and blood, I stared at the astronomical hospital bill in my hand. My own family had plotted to murder my father and sell me to the highest bidder. The betrayal shattered every ounce of sanity I had left. I didn't cry or beg them anymore. Instead, I pulled out a water-stained, gold-embossed business card. It belonged to Dolph Valentine, the most ruthless billionaire in New York and my ex-fiancé's uncle. If they wanted to destroy my life, I was going to sell my soul to the biggest monster of them all and drag them straight to hell.