PREGNANT AND BANISHED

I woke up in a freezing, desolate wasteland, my body weak and covered in sores. A mechanical voice in my head informed me that I was a defective rabbit-mutant, and if I didn't conceive within twenty-four hours, I would die permanently. The terror was suffocating, but the system left me no choice. To survive the brutal cold and the decay of my own heartbeat, I had to force a pregnancy with a stranger. I stumbled through the snow, my fingers turning blue, until I found a massive, wounded Arctic Fox-mutant in a dark cave. He was a Tier-9 predator, dying and radiating the exact heat I needed to stay alive. I threw away my dignity, crawling into his fur to merge our energies, desperate to trigger the life-reset protocol before my time ran out. I felt like a monster, forcing myself onto a man who didn't even know I existed, just to keep my own heart beating. How could I ever face him if he woke up? Why did I have to be the one to pay the price for this twisted, mechanical ultimatum? The fusion was a success, but when I woke up the next morning, the apex predator had me pinned under his massive claws, his fangs inches from my throat. I didn't beg for mercy. I stared into his feral, ice-blue eyes and made a deal that would change everything: I would be his anchor, and he would be my protector. But then I dropped the final, terrifying truth: I was pregnant, and he was the only one who could save us.

Angel was slammed onto the freezing stone slabs of the central square, surrounded by the deafening, mocking laughter of her clan. Her own sister, Jasmine, stood over her with a look of pure malice, loudly and falsely accusing Angel of sneaking into the Chief's tent to seduce him. Then, Al Stein, the man who had sworn to be her mate, stepped out of the crowd with a twisted face of disgust. "You're a genetic reject. You can't give me children. You're useless." He threw their bone mate ring hard at her face, cutting her cheek, as the crowd roared for her blood. Without a trial, the High Oracle stripped her of her citizenship and sentenced her to eternal exile in the deadly wasteland. To make her punishment a complete joke, the guards dragged out a comatose, dying outcast named Kain, slicing Angel's finger to force a mate bond between the two defects. They were tossed out into the raging blizzard like discarded corpses, the heavy steel gates slamming shut behind them, cutting off all light and warmth. Angel crawled through the snow, her vision blurring from extreme starvation and the biting wind, suffocating under the weight of their lies. Why did her own blood frame her? Why did her mate throw her away to die in the ice? Just as the freezing shadow of death wrapped around her, a sharp, mechanical voice exploded in her mind. [Genetic Evolution Codex activated. Host Status: Legendary Kitsune Prime.] The despair evaporated from her chest, replaced by a burning vow to survive and make every single one of them pay.

In a world where humans are considered inferior and slaves to werewolves, Emilia, a human orphan, falls in love with Alpha Alexander, after finding out that she is his fated mate, and has been married to him for four years via contract. But her marriage to him has been kept a secret and no one knows or acknowledges her as his wife. When Emilia finds out she's pregnant, she also discovers that Alpha Alexander has reunited with his first love and even announced their union on the news. As she asks for divorce, she finds out that she is actually the lost Lycan Princess and her father and two brothers have been looking for her for years. What would happen when Alexander finds out she isn't just werewolf but royalty? Will he really let her go or realise just how much he truly loves her?

Cora Foster was a brilliant archaeologist, but a jagged burn scar across her face made the world treat her like a contagious monster. During an elite excavation of a Gilded Age crypt, touching an ancient artifact triggered a terrifying memory. She remembered being Seraphina Beaumont, a socialite brutally buried alive by her vain, cruel sister, Isolde. When the team pried open the crypt's pristine mahogany casket, they cheered, believing the mummified corpse inside was Seraphina. But Cora recognized the onyx hairpin and the angular jawline. It was Isolde. The sister who had stolen her life, mocked her agony, and left her to suffocate in the dark. Her colleagues scoffed at her forensic proof, dismissing her as a scarred, delusional liability. Worse, the ruthless billionaire funding the expedition, Julian Montgomery, was the spitting image of Alistair—the man Seraphina had deeply loved. Why was Julian staring at her ruined face with such intense, inexplicable recognition? And why did Isolde take Seraphina's most precious silver ring to the grave? Driven by a century of agonizing grief, Cora secretly pried the tarnished ring from the mummy's stiff, dead fingers and dropped it into her pocket. "What are you looking at, Foster?" Julian's deep voice vibrated inches from her ear, his cold, predatory eyes locked directly onto her half-open pocket.

Eleanor Sinclair always knew her stepmother and stepsister were leeches, but she never expected their betrayal to reach into her private study. In the dead of night, she caught the family's trusted nanny of twelve years photographing confidential trust documents. The mastermind paying her off was Lillian, Eleanor's stepmother, who had been secretly embezzling estate funds and bribing tutors to deliberately ruin the academic future of Eleanor's younger brother, the only legitimate heir. Emboldened by their deceit, the parasites grew arrogant. Her stepsister, Isabelle, deliberately flaunted her secret affair with Eleanor’s billionaire fiancé, sobbing fake tears while waiting for Eleanor to suffer a humiliating nervous breakdown. When the tension finally peaked, Lillian played the victim so perfectly that Eleanor's own father, a powerful U.S. Senator, stormed into the room with a raised hand, ready to strike his own daughter. "You will apologize to your stepsister immediately! I will not have this family harmony destroyed by your petty jealousy!" They actually expected her to be a weeping, heartbroken girl. They thought cheap hotel affairs and stolen pennies could outsmart the true Sinclair bloodline. Did they really believe a few fake tears and a weak-willed father could strip her of her empire? Eleanor didn't feel anger; she felt the cold, detached fascination of a biologist observing doomed insects. She calmly pulled out the forensic audits, locked down the estate's exits, and prepared her stepmother's psychiatric commitment papers. The merciless purge of her family had officially begun.

Charlene was locked in a Swiss asylum by the wealthy Gay family, force-fed antipsychotics until her hands shook violently. Her adoptive brother, Columbus, dragged her out of the psych ward merely to parade her as a prop for the paparazzi. He had locked her up to get a psychiatric evaluation, ensuring she was declared legally insane and unable to claim her massive trust fund. The moment she returned to the estate, the torment worsened. Her other brother, Antwan, kicked her to the ground and shattered her wrist on the gravel. "You lost your legal rights, you stupid bitch," he sneered, while the staff blindly ignored her agony. Her childhood bedroom was completely gutted and given to a distant cousin. Worse, she discovered Columbus was secretly sleeping with Isabela—the fake heiress who had framed Charlene in the first place. Every trace of her existence in the family was being violently scrubbed away. She had lost her dignity, her health, and the baby the doctors claimed had died in the delivery room. She couldn't understand why the family she loved hated her so viciously, stripping away everything she had. That was until she saw a little boy in the hospital hallway, a perfect, miniature replica of her own face. Clutching the gold-crested cufflink he dropped, she realized the asylum's doctor had stolen him. Her baby was alive. With her heart turned to stone, Charlene made a silent vow to crawl out of hell and burn the Gay family to the ground.