Grump
15 Published Stories
Grump's Books and Stories
The Betrayed Prodigy's Spectacular Magical Comeback
Fantasy For five years, I bled to crown Azure Gale House as the champion, enduring brutal combat drills and toxic draughts for my mentor, Dean Alistair Sterling.
But at the exact moment of my victory, a poisoned dagger was driven through my spine.
When I forced my head around, I was stunned by what I saw.
Alistair stood over me with cold, lifeless eyes, casually wiping my blood from his knuckles like spilled tea.
Beside him stood Beverly Wynn, a talentless junior who could barely conjure a shield, looking down at me with gloating pity.
Alistair slowly raised the ritual blade, revealing the horrifying truth.
"Your core will live forever inside Beverly. Be grateful, child. It is the highest honor you could ever achieve."
He had never been mentoring me. All those private lectures and isolating training regimens—he had been fattening me like livestock for the slaughter, just to harvest my flawless celestial core for his favorite puppet.
I couldn't fight back. The venom turned my magic into a freezing sludge, locking my muscles as they prepared to flay my soul.
Until my dying breath, I felt nothing but pure, unadulterated hatred. Out of sheer spite, I reversed the spin of my core, detonating my soul in a blinding flash to ensure they got nothing but ashes.
Opening my eyes again, I was back on the day of the Welcoming Ceremony, exactly five years ago.
When Alistair confidently offered me his personal seal in front of the entire school, I smiled and walked straight toward the disgraced, sleeping Dean of the worst house in the Keep. Shattered Bonds: The Ruthless Heiress Returns
Modern Arlena woke up in a sterile hospital room, exactly one month before the apocalypse would unravel the world. Her grandmother and uncle were looming over her bed, shoving a clipboard into her face.
It was the Bone Marrow Donation Consent form for her cousin, Brandi. They had deliberately booked her parents on a cheap European tour, isolating Arlena so they could force her to sign.
In her previous life, she had given in. The donation completely crashed her immune system right before the extreme weather and societal collapse hit.
While she lay weak and suffering, her family had drained her trust fund and occupied her home.
Her aunt had snatched her last loaf of bread with a triumphant sneer, leaving Arlena to freeze to death in a dirty alley.
Now, when Arlena rasped out a firm "No," her uncle locked the hospital door and lunged for her throat.
"You need to be taught a lesson! Your parents are too soft on you. I'll do it for them!"
He roared, ready to take her marrow by brute force.
She stared at the monsters she called family. They never cared if the procedure would cripple her. To them, she was nothing but a spare part, a blood bag to be used up and discarded so they could steal her inheritance.
But the compliant niece died in the snow. Arlena grabbed a pair of surgical scissors and plunged them straight into her uncle's hand. Tearing the consent form to shreds, she escaped the hospital to unlock her grandfather's hidden pocket dimension. This time, she would build an impenetrable doomsday fortress, and let them rot in the coming hell. Sewn Lips: Her Silent Cry For Justice
Modern My husband told me I was a contractual obligation, an irritant he was forced to endure after a car crash stole his memory of our love five years ago. He replaced me with a social media influencer, a woman whose lies were as polished as her feed.
But when her baby was found with a small cut on her lip, she tearfully accused me of being a jealous monster who attacked an innocent child.
My husband, the man I had stood by through everything, didn't hesitate. In a blind rage, he ordered a guard to take a needle and thread and sew my lips shut.
"She needs to see nothing. Hear nothing. Say nothing," he commanded, his voice devoid of mercy.
He then had me hung upside down in the lobby of my own wellness retreat, a public spectacle for the world to condemn.
As I dangled there, bleeding and broken, I finally understood. My blind love and foolish hope had been my downfall. I had loved the wrong man, and he had utterly destroyed me.
But they made one fatal mistake. They didn't know about the hidden camera I' d planted in the baby's room. And they had no idea that my family could crush his entire empire with a single phone call. Bound To The Ruthless Lycan King
Werewolf I fled my werewolf pack five years ago to hide in a human city, all to escape a recurring nightmare.
Every full moon, a terrifying, golden-eyed Lycan slaughters everything in his path, forces me to my knees with a crushing Alpha command, and claims I am his fated mate.
The vivid dreams were destroying my inner wolf, forcing me to finally agree to return to my pack for the annual Pack Run to seek a cure.
But right before my flight home, I accidentally bumped into Rick Miller, the most arrogant, tyrannical Alpha on our college campus.
He looked down at the coffee spilled on his expensive leather jacket with pure disdain, publicly humiliating me in front of the entire airport.
"Do you have any idea what this jacket costs? Never mind. It's not like you could afford to replace it."
As he coldly insulted me, a terrifying realization suddenly froze my blood.
He smelled exactly like the ancient pine and storm from my nightmares, and his brief touch sent a mate's electric spark straight to my soul.
How could this cruel, spoiled campus bully possibly be the legendary, terrifying Lycan King who haunted my every sleeping moment?
As he turned and boarded his private jet, I looked down at my trembling hands and realized the horrifying truth.
My trip back to the pack wasn't a journey to heal my trauma.
I was walking straight into the cage of the very monster I had spent five years trying to outrun. The Billionaire’s Contract: Revenge On My Ex
Romance I was a top-tier model with a fiancé I trusted to manage every cent I earned. I thought we were building a life together until a blown fuse at the studio sent me home twenty minutes early.
The silence of the penthouse was broken by a trail of clothes: Haywood’s silk tie, then a red-soled stiletto that belonged to Brandy, the girl I had mentored like a sister. Through the bedroom door, I watched the man I loved tell his mistress that I was "yesterday's news" while they tangled in the sheets I had picked out six months ago.
I didn't scream; I just turned to leave, but the betrayal went deeper than the bedroom. When I checked my banking app, my balance was exactly $12.45. Haywood had liquidated every holding account and savings entry I owned, using a "tax strategy" he’d convinced me of to steal my entire past.
Within hours, the man who robbed me was planting stories in the press, claiming I was having a drug-fueled breakdown. He wanted me penniless, homeless, and discredited so no one would believe the truth. He even tried to force me into a "rehab" facility to silence me forever while he promoted his pregnant mistress.
I stood on a New York curb with nothing left but a desperate, insane idea born from a headline on my phone. Isham Rhodes, the most ruthless CEO in the city, needed a wife by thirty to keep his empire, and I needed a shield to survive mine.
"Mr. Rhodes, I hear you need a puppet," I said, intercepting him in the rain outside City Hall. "I don't want your love. I want a legal document that makes me untouchable."
He didn't ask for a romance; he asked for my ID. Now, with a billionaire’s black card in my pocket and a marriage certificate in my hand, I’m going back to the agency to take back everything they stole. The war has just begun. Reborn Heiress: Pampered By The Ruthless Don
Mafia The man smiling in the silver frame on my vanity was the very same man who, in exactly three months, would wrap his hands around my throat.
I knew this because I had already died.
I had felt the freezing, silty water of the Hudson River fill my lungs while Alexander watched the life drain from my eyes, his mistress laughing in the background.
I had hovered like a ghost above my own funeral, watching the betrayal continue even after my death.
My mother, the perfect Mafia widow, stood stoically next to my killer, unaware she had sold her daughter to a butcher. My fiancé checked his watch, bored, waiting to liquidate my inheritance.
But then I saw him.
Darrian Golden. The Don of the rival clan. The enemy.
He stood in the pouring rain, his expensive suit soaked through, staring at my coffin as if the world had ended. When the earth hit the wood, he didn't just cry; he roared in primal agony. My fiancé killed me, but my enemy was the only one who mourned me.
"The Commission is waiting," my mother’s voice snapped the timeline back into place.
She stood in my doorway, demanding I set the engagement date to secure the territory. She saw a charming Capo; I saw the rat who had cut my father's brake lines.
In my first life, I was a trembling bird. In this life, I was the match that would burn the cage down.
I smashed the photo frame against the marble table, the sound cracking through the room like a gunshot.
"Contact the Golden Clan," I commanded.
My mother went pale. "He is a savage, Azalea. He butchers men for sport."
"Tell Don Golden that Azalea Kidd is offering a parley," I said, looking out the window at the city that would soon be ours.
"Tell him I am offering the only thing he has ever wanted: Me." Eighteen Days to Forget You
Modern Eighteen days after giving up on Jarrett Sheppard, Alayna Dickerson cut off her waist-length hair and called her father, announcing her decision to move to California and attend the UC Berkeley College of Music.
Her father, Samuel Dickerson, surprised, asked about the sudden change, reminding her how she'd always insisted on staying with Jarrett. Alayna forced a laugh, revealing the painful truth: Jarrett was getting married, and she, his stepsister, could no longer cling to him.
That night, she tried to tell Jarrett about her college acceptance, but his fiancée, Kisha Prince, interrupted with a bubbly call, and Jarrett's tender words to Kisha twisted a knife in Alayna's heart. She remembered how his tenderness used to be hers alone, how he had given her her first harmonica when she was eight, becoming her musical mentor, and how she had poured out her heart to him in a love letter at seventeen, only for him to explode, tearing the letter and yelling, "I'm your brother!"
He had stormed out, leaving her to painstakingly tape the shredded pieces back together. Her love, however, didn't die, not even when he brought Kisha home and told her to call her "sister-in-law."
Now, she understood. She had to put that fire out herself. She had to dig Jarrett out of her heart. Fifty Dollar Bet, Million Dollar Revenge
Romance For fifty dollars, I sold a piece of my dignity to the school's golden boy. I was eighteen, starving, and desperate enough to take his bet.
That single photo destroyed my life. I became "Fifty-Dollar Ella," the school slut, haunted by whispers and scorn.
My stepmother and stepsister reveled in my public humiliation, ensuring my life was a living hell.
I spent the next decade clawing my way to the top of Wall Street, but I died alone, filled with the bitter regret of a stolen youth.
Until the end, I never understood why they all hated me so much.
Then, I opened my eyes. I was eighteen again, back in that classroom, moments before the bet that ruined me. A shadow fell over my desk. It was him.
"Meet me after school," Javier Mack whispered, a smug look on his face.
But this time, the scared, hungry girl was gone. In her place was a shark. And I was ready to play. When Forever Crumbles: Love's Harsh Reality
Romance My husband, the tech billionaire Jackson Watkins, was perfect. For two years, he adored me, and our marriage was the envy of everyone we knew.
Then a woman from his past appeared, holding the hand of a pale, sick four-year-old boy. His son.
The boy had leukemia, and Jackson became consumed with saving him. After an accident at the hospital, his son had a seizure. In the chaos, I fell hard, a sharp pain shooting through my abdomen.
Jackson ran right past me, carrying his son, and left me bleeding on the floor.
I lost our baby that day, alone. He never even called.
When he finally appeared at my hospital bed the next morning, he was wearing a different suit. He begged for forgiveness for being absent, not knowing the real reason for my tears.
Then I saw it. A dark hickey on his neck.
He had been with her while I was losing our child.
He told me his son's dying wish was to see his parents married. He begged me to agree to a temporary separation and a fake wedding with her.
I looked at his desperate, selfish face, and a strange calm settled over me.
"Okay," I said. "I'll do it." From Ashes, A Queen Rises
Modern I woke up in the hospital after my husband tried to kill me in an explosion. The doctor said I was lucky—the shrapnel had missed my major arteries. Then he told me something else. I was eight weeks pregnant.
Just then, my husband, Julius, walked in. He ignored me and spoke to the doctor. He said his mistress, Kenzie, had leukemia and needed an urgent bone marrow transplant. He wanted me to be the donor.
The doctor was aghast. "Mr. Carroll, your wife is pregnant and critically injured. That procedure would require an abortion and could kill her."
Julius's face was a mask of stone. "The abortion is a given," he said. "Kenzie is the priority. Florence is strong, she can have another baby later."
He was talking about our child like it was a tumor to be removed. He would kill our baby and risk my life for a woman who was faking a terminal illness.
In that sterile hospital room, the part of me that had loved him, the part that had forgiven him, turned to ash.
They wheeled me into surgery. As the anesthetic flowed into my veins, I felt a strange sense of peace. This was the end, and the beginning.
When I woke up, my baby was gone.
With a calmness that scared even me, I picked up the phone and dialed a number I hadn't called in ten years.
"Dad," I whispered. "I'm coming home."
For a decade, I had hidden my true identity as a Horton heiress, all for a man who just tried to murder me.
Florence Whitehead was dead. But the Horton heiress was just waking up, and she was going to burn their world to the ground. Revenge Of The Discarded Fiancée
Romance For seven years, I dedicated my life to Liam Miller, the charismatic CEO, building his empire and standing by his side as his quiet fiancée. I was his unwavering support, his peace in a world of ambition and noise.
Then, an anonymous text ripped my world apart: "Liam is in danger. The Ophidian Club. Now."
I found him laughing, his arm around a notorious poker player, Isabella Ross, betting away millions of his company' s money, my contribution, on her. My head hit the floor, and in the haze, I heard his voice, cold and dismissive, "Don' t worry about her. She' s just a charity case." At home, I heard Isabella's cruel words, "She's like a lost puppy you picked up, Liam. Loyal, but ultimately just a pet you can get rid of."
"A charity case? A pet?" The words tasted like ash. My seven years, my identity as a software engineer who built his company, reduced to a "convenient background" for his rise. Why had I meant so little? Why was I just a substitute, a cheap copy of a woman he truly loved?
Standing on that stage, forced to smile as his "perfect partner" for the cameras, I vowed that when his deal was secured, I would take my settlement and disappear forever. But when Alex Vance, Liam' s ruthless rival, stepped into my life, claiming Liam had turned my existence into a cruel experiment, I knew I had to fight back, not just for freedom, but for survival. Revenge Wears a Soft Smile
Modern The morning sun streamed into my penthouse, just like any other day.
My fiancé, Liam, walked in with coffee and a croissant, his perfect smile radiating devotion.
But the world had been dark just moments before, stained with the taste of blood and the memory of his smiling face as I lay dying on the cold floor of an institution.
Now, it was two years before that horrific end.
Two years before he destroyed everything and had me committed to a mental asylum.
The last thing I remembered was his betrayal, his cruel laughter as my life, my company, and my sanity were systematically stripped away for his ambition.
I watched him now, playing the part of the loving partner, reminiscing about the "Project Titan" software that was once my life' s work, the very foundation he would steal and rebrand as his own.
He told me I was working too hard, that he would "take the pressure off."
It was the same speech, the same insidious opening move he' d used before.
A practiced performance that had once fooled me completely.
How could I have been so blind, so naive, to open my heart and my world to such a snake?
The memories of his lies, his manipulation, his ultimate act of sending me to an early grave, burned through me.
But this time, the pain was fuel, not weakness.
My smile might have been soft, but inside, a cold certainty settled deep in my bones.
This wasn't a dream.
It was a do-over.
He thought he had won.
He thought this was the start of everything for him.
He was right.
It was the start of his end.
And I was going to enjoy every second of it. The Art of Starting Over
Fantasy At eighty, I lay dying in a sterile hospital room, a life I felt was utterly wasted flashing before my eyes.
My wife of sixty years, Olivia Hayes, sat beside me, her stoic composure a familiar mask.
Then, her whispered confession shattered everything: "Tell Daniel… I've always loved him."
Daniel, her colleague from decades ago.
Sixty years of quiet resentment, of being a placeholder, a fool.
Rage burned in my dying body-a useless, consuming fire.
Then, darkness.
Light. Soft blankets. My young mother' s beaming face.
It was 1987. I was a baby again, but the memories of my eighty-year life, and Olivia's betrayal, were searing.
"Mom," I squeaked, my infant voice unwavering, "I won't marry Olivia Hayes."
Years later, at eighteen, the name Olivia was a constant dread.
Our families had an arranged engagement, a relic I had accepted in my past life.
This time, it was a prison sentence.
I saw her with Daniel Lee at the community center, laughing the unguarded laugh I rarely saw in our marriage, her caring gestures confirming the truth.
She approached me, that familiar stoic calm in place, perhaps to touch my arm.
I stepped back, a deliberate movement.
"Are you avoiding me?" she asked, her tone flat.
I met her gaze directly. "We should keep our distance, Olivia. It's better for everyone."
I walked away. My past life, a suffocating nightmare.
This life would be different. This life was for me.
I would be free. Wedding Day Showdown: I Married My Best Friend
Romance Vegas wedding day. I stood in my dress, heart pounding, ready for my fiancé, Bryce. Then, a scene out of a nightmare unfolded: a woman and a child burst in, the boy crying, "Daddy!" Unbelievably, Bryce revealed this was his ex, Kelli, and their son, Jayden. He announced he was marrying her instead—right then and there—and asked me to pose for a "friend photo" for social media. My world shattered as they walked into the chapel, leaving me publicly humiliated.
The nightmare, I soon learned, was just beginning. Not content with abandoning me, Bryce and his crew invaded my beautiful Malibu home, trashing it, defiling my most cherished possessions. The very next day, they threw a brazen party on my private lawn, mocking my pain. When I confronted them, their malicious posse turned violent, shoving and hitting me, screaming accusations that I was the "homewrecker." Bryce, the coward, just stood by. I was bruised, violated, and utterly alone, my sanctuary desecrated.
How could someone I loved unleash such monstrous cruelty? How could I, the victim, suddenly become the villain in the eyes of a hostile crowd? My spirit was crushed; I felt utterly helpless against this wave of injustice.
Just as I thought all hope was lost, a sleek black SUV screeched to a halt. Nolan. My oldest friend for ten years. He'd left a multi-billion dollar deal mid-signing to get here. He stepped out, eyes blazing, and in a voice that brooked no argument, he simply said, "I'm her husband." You might like
Rejected by My Family, Claimed by the Galactic Commander
EVA PINK I woke up to the stench of rust and rotting flesh, no longer a master botanist who commanded life itself, but a D-class exile dumped on a wasteland planet.
Memories that weren't mine flooded in. I was framed by my stepsister, betrayed by my fiancé, and banished by my own family to the Ashfall Peninsula to die.
The original girl actually starved to death in despair. The moment I opened my eyes, a scavenger tried to smash my skull with a rusty pipe just to eat me. After I killed him to survive, I discovered a harsher truth: in this universe, plant seeds are classified as A-level strategic resources, completely monopolized by the Imperium.
But the universe had a sick sense of humor. A mandatory background scan suddenly triggered a galactic broadcast: I, the exiled trash, was a perfect genetic match for the Imperium's top war hero, General Alexander Orr.
The family that ruthlessly erased my existence instantly saw me as a golden ticket. My cheating ex-fiancé was dispatched to drag me back, furious that his "property" was matched with someone else. They all thought I was still that weak, naive girl they could manipulate.
But as I held the pure, glowing Life Source Crystals I had secretly extracted from the scrap heap, a cold smile crept onto my face.
"I didn't come here to die. I came here to build an empire."
I turned my back on the galactic broadcast and stepped into the deadly wilderness. Rejected Bride: Married To The Dragon King
Catlaina Sloggett I knelt on the cold stone of the Dragon God Altar, waiting to marry Lord Harper Carney. It was my only chance to escape the gilded cage of my family.
But when Harper finally arrived, he wasn't alone. His arm was wrapped tightly around my cousin, Hettie.
Right in front of the entire court, he coldly announced that our marriage was a mistake.
Hettie leaned into his embrace, wearing a triumphant smile while playing the innocent victim.
The assembled nobles openly jeered at me. They mocked my greatest failing—that I was a worthless "Dragonless" born without the inner fire.
My own father was furious, not at them, but at me. He demanded I go to Hettie's estate and beg for her forgiveness.
When I refused, he threatened to cut off all my funds and revoke my only job at the Royal Scribes' Office.
I was publicly abandoned, stripped of my dignity, and left with absolutely nothing.
I didn't cry, and I didn't scream. Why should I be the one to apologize when they were the ones who betrayed me?
For years, I had endured their abuse, treated like a pawn to be sacrificed at will. But looking at their smug faces, my despair turned into cold resolve.
I took off my betrothal coronet and dropped it at Harper's feet, publicly nullifying the contract myself.
I thought I would have to face the ruin alone, until a mysterious, powerful man with burning golden eyes stepped out of the shadows.
"Marry me," he said. "I will be your shield, and we will crush them together." Betrayed Bride: I Married My Ex's Comatose Uncle, the Dragon Lord
Ben Nan On my wedding day, I caught my fiancé in my stepsister's arms.
She was pregnant with his child.
And instead of begging for forgiveness, Damian Harrison laughed in my face.
He admitted he had always planned to marry me, dump me in some forgotten country estate, and keep my stepsister as the woman he truly loved.
So I burned my wedding veil in front of the entire Harrison family and walked away.
That should have been the end of it.
Instead, Damian's mother sent armed men after me.
Why?
Because I was a Dragonless nobody from the borderlands, and in her eyes, humiliating a Harrison was a crime worse than her son's betrayal.
I had no dragon blood.
No powerful family willing to protect me.
Not even my own father would risk offending the Harrisons for my sake.
If I wanted to survive, I needed someone they feared more than they hated me.
So I returned to the Harrison estate and made an outrageous demand.
I would marry Damian's uncle.
Gideon Harrison-the legendary Dragon Lord, the kingdom's greatest war hero... and a man everyone believed was dead.
Perfect.
As his widow, I would outrank the man who betrayed me, become his aunt by marriage, and gain enough power to make every Harrison who humiliated me regret it.
I signed the marriage pact without hesitation.
Then a knight burst into the ancestral hall with impossible news.
Gideon Harrison was alive.
My dead husband wasn't dead.
He was being brought home. Chaotic Affinity: A Rebirth Magic Academy Romance
Qijia Lady I took a blood-binding curse to save my younger sister Danae, ruining my magic affinity forever.
Instead of gratitude, she stole our mother's token and convinced our father to dump me at a school for magical rejects.
In my past life, I actually believed her sweet lies. I thought she was shielding me from the cruel aristocratic academies.
I went to that unfashionable boarding school, only to be ground into dust by rogue curses and treated like garbage.
Meanwhile, she lived in a palace, surrounded by devoted admirers and endless luxury.
When I was finally dragged to the execution pyre, my own father and sister stood in the high stands, watching me burn alive with cold satisfaction.
I died screaming in agony, clawing at my scorched skin, utterly betrayed by the family I had bled for.
Until the flames consumed me, I didn't understand. Why did the sister I sacrificed everything for want me dead?
Why was my devotion rewarded with a fiery grave?
Opening my eyes again, I was back on the very morning of my departure to that trash magic school.
Danae walked into my room with a warm mug of milk, a razor-thin smear of satisfaction flashing across her lips.
She thought she was the only one who had returned to the past.
"Sister, you look terrible. Did you have that nightmare again?"
This time, I will gladly take the train to the school of rejects.
Not to hide in shame, but to build an altar of bone and ruin out of everyone who burned me alive. The "Magicless" Blood Bag Is The Supreme Mage
Shu Yu For four years, I lived as the adopted orphan of the noble Hayes family, treated as nothing more than a living blood bag for my sister, Yvonne.
They claimed Yvonne was dying and needed my core essence to survive. In reality, she was entirely healthy, suffering only the backfire of an illegal ritual used to steal my pureblood vitality.
While Yvonne played the fragile, weeping victim on her silk bed, my adoptive mother drove silver needles deep into my veins.
Everyone in the house praised Yvonne's angelic nature and sneered at me as an ungrateful, magicless stray.
When I finally refused to be their livestock, they launched a massive smear campaign in the national newspaper.
"She is a jealous monster who deliberately abandoned her dying sister," the headlines screamed.
They assumed a penniless, anemic girl with no backing would quickly crawl back to their door, begging for table scraps and offering up her veins again.
They had no idea who was actually walking in this starved body now.
The memories of Nyx, the elite Chief Enforcer of the Magic Council, had just awakened within my fragile shell.
I calmly ripped the extraction needle from my flesh and went straight to the Registry to burn our magical adoption contract to ashes.
They wanted to destroy my reputation and drain me dry?
I would build my own empire and collect every single ounce of stolen blood back from them. With interest. Mated To My Ex's Dead Brother
Zhao Da My engagement to Kile, the heir of House Golden, was witnessed by the Duke himself. I thought my days as a helpless orphan were over.
But right before our wedding, he coldly informed me that my status was being revoked. I was to enter his family as a lesser consort.
The title of primary wife was being given to his lover, Journey. She hid behind Kile, wearing a spotless white dress and trembling like a fragile lotus.
"Cassie, please don't blame him, I can live without a title," she cried, playing the perfect victim.
Kile shielded her, glaring at me with pure disgust, shouting that I was being completely unreasonable.
The next day, the entire Elder Council cornered me in their grand hall. They told me that as a "Dragonless" nobody, I should be immensely grateful for any scrap they threw my way.
They all stared at me, waiting for me to swallow my pride and accept a lifetime of humiliation.
They thought I was entirely broken. They thought I had no backing and no choice but to bow down to their cruelty.
Instead, I looked straight at the Chief Elder and smiled.
"I refuse to be a lesser consort," I announced clearly, watching Kile's smug expression freeze. "But to preserve our families' dignity, I will fulfill the contract."
I looked right into Kile's shocked eyes.
"I will marry your dead older brother, Lord Ayden." Burned by My Fiancé, Reborn to Rule the Dragon Court
Fading Signal I gave Kaelen Sterling everything.
My fortune. My family's trust. Even the military secrets that should never have left my father's hands.
He swore he loved me.
Then he used me to destroy my entire family.
My father was beheaded for treason. My brothers died on the battlefield. My sick mother coughed up blood until her final breath. And the fortune my mother had saved for me became the stepping stone Kaelen and his precious "savior," Jacqueline Byrd, used to climb into the highest circles of the kingdom.
When there was nothing left to steal, Kaelen locked me inside an abandoned manor and set it on fire.
Through the flames, I saw him holding Jacqueline in his arms.
She was pregnant with his child.
And she was wearing silk bought with my mother's dowry.
"Burn it all," Kaelen said coldly. "Leave no trace."
I died screaming his name.
Then I opened my eyes.
I was twenty again.
Kaelen had just returned from the battlefield after being declared dead for two years—and standing beside him was Jacqueline, looking fragile and innocent as ever.
"She saved my life," he told me. "You will accept her."
In my last life, I did.
This time, I slapped him across the face.
Then I burned our marriage contract.
They all thought grief had driven me mad.
They had no idea I remembered everything.
Every betrayal.
Every secret.
Every scandal that had not happened yet.
I knew which noble houses would fall. I knew which princes would rise. I knew the hidden weaknesses of the people who would one day control the Dragon Court.
And they had forgotten something else.
I was never just a wealthy heiress.
I knew herbs. I knew alchemy. I knew how to survive a royal court where one wrong move could cost an entire family its head.
Kaelen wanted my fortune.
Jacqueline wanted my place.
My stepmother wanted my mother's power.
And the men above them wanted to use House Croft as another piece on their board.
Let them try.
I died once as their pawn.
This life, I will take back my family, my fortune, and every drop of blood they owe me.
And when I am finished, I won't just survive the Dragon Court.
I will rule it. Betrayed Bride: Proposing To The Dragon Lord
Alfred I was the adopted, "Dragonless" daughter of the Sterling family, bound by a prestigious marriage contract to my fiancé, Julian.
But during the annual charity ball, I followed a secret note to a guest suite, only to catch him tangled on the sofa with my cousin, Isabelle.
When I calmly called the Dragon Guard to expose their affair, my adoptive parents didn't comfort me. Instead, they furiously blamed me.
"It was an emergency! Our kind Isabelle used her scent to save him, and you just tried to destroy him!"
They praised her as a hero, officially handed my fiancé over to her, and decided to punish me for tarnishing the family name.
Their revenge was a new marriage contract. They were going to sell me off to Lord Valerius, a cruel, elderly man notorious for outliving three wives.
I stared at the death sentence in my hands, my blood running cold. I was the one betrayed, yet I was being discarded like useless trash to pave the way for my cousin's happiness.
Why should I let them destroy my life just to protect their twisted, perfect image?
I didn't cry, and I refused to be their sacrificial lamb.
I drafted a cold, calculated business proposal, packed my bags, and walked out of that toxic house forever.
I was going to propose to the most ruthless, powerful predator in the kingdom-Gideon Montgomery.
If I had to step into a dragon's lair, I would be the one to choose it. Bride of the Dragon King
Arthur De Peart Lyra Vale was meant to save her kingdom with a marriage.
Instead, she becomes the property of a monster.
On the day of her wedding, the infamous Dragon King storms the cathedral and claims her before the entire royal court. Draven Arkael, ruler of the obsidian fortress of Vaelthorn, feared across kingdoms as the last great dragon lord, invokes an ancient blood debt her family can never repay.
Now trapped inside a palace carved from black stone and dragon bone, Lyra discovers the truth hidden beneath centuries of legend: the dragons are dying, enemies move in the shadows, and her blood may hold the key to saving an entire race.
But Draven is no savior.
Cold, ruthless, and haunted by a betrayal that destroyed his family, he binds Lyra to him not out of love, but vengeance. Yet as assassins close in, ancient magic awakens, and a dangerous bond begins to burn between them, Lyra realizes the Dragon King is hiding far more than hatred behind his dark crown.
And the closer she gets to the truth... the more impossible it becomes to resist him.
In a world of fire, betrayal, and ancient power, one stolen bride may become the beginning of a war that will either destroy the kingdoms, or remake them entirely.
BRIDE OF THE DRAGON KING is a dark fantasy romance filled with enemies-to-lovers tension, dragon lore, forced proximity, deadly secrets, forbidden magic, and a slow-burning bond powerful enough to change the fate of the world. 
/1/127632/coverorgin.jpg?v=5f9110a597c1f4fdcf6a23026dfa2847&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/118273/coverorgin.jpg?v=6b9cd38c241ff1b9f2cb67310bdd90bd&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/114144/coverorgin.jpg?v=f0828f45489ed0ce1f42f47421f50770&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/114043/coverorgin.jpg?v=38c3fbf2ac8f6df6d396552a0b7acd8f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/106621/coverorgin.jpg?v=06377a4af8c98697bb1bbb1f083451b2&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/104546/coverorgin.jpg?v=a507b036bc2411e0a32ac9e6c3a6f2f1&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/103141/coverorgin.jpg?v=bc479ab7cfb86f183524c7da0f595dfb&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/96928/coverorgin.jpg?v=2ed5686f136f8cfa573115d524c62651&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/96929/coverorgin.jpg?v=27768d4adec894fee28c2ddb1b4a8e94&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/90452/coverorgin.jpg?v=43abbfc90fcea2a254e82a5e99923541&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/90267/coverorgin.jpg?v=983ec4ac3c30665959bad076a55836cd&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/86586/coverorgin.jpg?v=e144a3f30dfe57baffe877718b5aefea&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/85447/coverorgin.jpg?v=49d5bddfa2dea0950c7f44bf0d3a6e3e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/84785/coverorgin.jpg?v=610e614df031ea555b563c4a6b19aa32&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/80278/coverorgin.jpg?v=15f6232252eebd514aac48021f784862&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/123931/coverorgin.jpg?v=46b935087d4d152420a06e58e4a55ce1&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/112583/coverorgin.jpg?v=18d6e11bd7e648d3c960a600b8a48bd9&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/126886/coverorgin.jpg?v=523fd35098e6fa24732ac170b9b9dfce&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/125282/coverorgin.jpg?v=2381967baf37918a9d3abb5a5156a37a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/128480/coverorgin.jpg?v=a750004894621f5835a5b0d9c2736555&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/127577/coverorgin.jpg?v=f6a597fc2a90f75dc489831a97ef5c1f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/127406/coverorgin.jpg?v=74e49c84759f325c94463fffb6d1360d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/125831/coverorgin.jpg?v=913829e88f1fe58739d67426bec9f264&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/125692/coverorgin.jpg?v=d8fefea90420fdd9e52b7475922704a7&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/115885/coverorgin.jpg?v=4b3d06f695e81de50761b6a12ef87411&imageMogr2/format/webp)