Hinovel
App Store
Google Play
Library
Rejected by the Alpha, Claimed by the Crown
2.0K·Little RoseEmber Frost, a girl without a wolf, was taken in by the Moonshine Pack after being abandoned in the woods. When Owen, the future Alpha, discovers they are mates on his twentieth birthday, Ember's world should have been set. But Owen doesn't see a mate in her; he sees weakness. Rejected in the most humiliating way, Ember's heart is crushed. In a desperate moment, she leaps off a cliff, thinking it will be the end. But fate has other plans. Instead of death, Ember's fall uncovers a shocking truth: she is the long-lost daughter of the Lycan King, heir to the Lycan’s Pride. Now, Ember is not the weak, rejected girl she once was. She's a princess. She's the heir to a mighty throne. And when Owen discovers her true identity, he wants her back—but Ember is in love with someone else. Owen won't stop until he reclaims her. But Ember will do whatever it takes to protect her pack and the life she's chosen, even if it means facing the man who once shattered her world.
The Dying Bride
6.0K·HaleyElara Voss, a vampire and true Death’s attendant fated to return to the Underworld at 18, is overlooked by her clan—who believe her frail twin Celeste is the cursed one. Her centuries-old betrothal to Lucien Ashbourne is broken so he can wed Celeste, and Elara endures cruel penances to “bless” her sister. Dismissed when she warns of her own impending fate, Elara suffers betrayal from Lucien and her family until the Crimson Eclipse. As she succumbs and returns to the Underworld, Lucien realizes his mistake too late. In death, Elara embraces her role as Death’s attendant, while her family and Lucien face eternal punishment for their betrayal, and Elara finds freedom in her true destiny.
His Design, My Ruin
0·AnswerAdrian had abandoned our anniversary dinner again—another patient having a bad reaction after plastic surgery. The sixth time. Same scene. Same excuse. Each time, I tried to convince myself this was simply the "price" of being married to a top plastic surgeon. He was saving troubled souls, just as he'd once pulled me from the abyss of disfigurement after my car accident. But why did a patient always have a problem on our anniversary? Too coincidental. Suspiciously so. The elegant dishes on the table glistened invitingly under the warm amber light, but my stomach felt stuffed with ice-soaked cotton—cold and bloated. Just as I was about to get up and end this solo "celebration," a small hand suddenly tugged at the hem of my dress. "Mommy, why are you sitting here? Daddy Adrian has a surprise for you. Come on, let's go!" Mommy? Daddy Adrian? No. That damned car accident six years ago hadn't just ruined my face—it had stolen my ability to become a mother. I would never have a child with Adrian. He'd been trying to convince me to adopt one. "Sweetheart, you've got the wrong person," I forced a smile, keeping my voice gentle. "I'm not your mommy. Do you need help?" The little boy tilted his face up, his gray-blue eyes—so remarkably like Adrian's—landing precisely on the pale pink scar above my left eye. The mark left six years ago, a flaw even modern medicine couldn't completely erase. "Oh!" Realization dawned on him, his small face bearing that characteristic, cutting bluntness of children. "You're definitely not my mommy. You have an ugly scar. My mommy doesn't have one on her face. Sorry, Scarface Lady." "Scarface Lady"... The words drenched me like ice water. Not because of the child's thoughtless remark, but because of the information it contained—a woman who looked like me, but without the scar on her left eye. My heartbeat quickened, as if trying to warn me of something.
Three Years of Love, Just a Joke on Live Stream
0·D.D.In the third year with Damian, I sold my mother’s necklace just to buy him a birthday gift. But when Selene sent me a link, the truth shattered me— It was a prank live site, and my room was ranked number one. [Prank #20: She drank until she bled just to protect Damian.] [Prank #85: She sold her mother’s relic for his gift.] [Prank #97: She waited all night with cake, while he partied with Selene in Las Vegas.] The comments rolled in: “Three pranks left—will she survive?” “I bet a million she won’t make it to the end!”
He Chose a Mafia Bride — Not Knowing I Owned the Empire
0·AnswerOne month before graduation, my boyfriend Leonardo Costa suddenly asked to break up. He gave me a lakeside estate in Chicago, a limited-edition Rolls-Royce, and twenty million dollars in cash. A thank-you, he said, for four years of companionship. I stood in the living room with the asset transfer agreement in my hands, my mind completely blank. I almost wondered if I'd heard him wrong. Just last night, when I'd come home from the academy, he'd pressed me against the floor-to-ceiling window in the bedroom and whispered in my ear: "Don't treat me like a gentleman tonight." He was always so controlled, so composed — but last night, he'd come undone. He said he loved me, over and over again. I thought it was our wild, delirious celebration before graduation. But when I woke up, he was gone. His number had been disconnected. Every social media account, deleted. Even his personal assistant was unreachable. As if someone had erased him entirely from my world. At noon, his lawyer arrived on schedule. The middle-aged man in the sharp suit spoke with practiced deference. Leonardo had specifically instructed him to come at noon, he said — so as not to disturb my rest. He handed me the documents. The estate, the car, the twenty million — all of it already transferred into my name. "This is the Young Master's compensation to you."
The Female Alpha They Tried to Ruin
10·AnswerI heard the Moon Goddess calling to me—her ancient, mournful voice echoing through my mind. *Open your eyes, my child. See your fate.* And I did. The marking ceremony, seven days from now. Sacred flames roaring against the night sky. I stood in a flowing white ceremonial gown, waiting for my mate, Derek Blackwood, to mark my neck with the eternal bond. But that's not what happened. I watched myself being led, half-carried, toward a glass chamber. My body burned with fever. My skin flushed an unnatural crimson, pupils blown wide—symptoms of heat-inducing drugs. My wolf howled inside me, frantic and wild, but she couldn't break free from the poison's grip. Three rogue wolves waited inside the glass chamber. Their eyes held nothing but hunger and madness. I endured everything they did to me. And outside that glass prison, every member of the Silver Moon Pack and the Shadow Pack watched. Derek's voice cut through the air, cold and mocking. "Look at your precious Alpha's daughter, Ella Silverman. Look at what she truly is." My father, Victor Silverman, stepped forward, his face arranged in careful grief. "I can no longer call her my daughter. This alliance is void." He paused, gesturing beside him. "But I have another daughter. A pure and kind-hearted girl who will take Ella's place." My half-sister, Lina Chase, emerged from the crowd, tears glistening in her eyes—fake tears—as she pressed herself against Derek's side. And my mother—the true Luna of the Silver Moon Pack, Elena Silverman—her already fragile body collapsed under the devastating blow. I watched her crumple to the ground, blood trickling from her pale lips. I struggled to reach her, but my body refused to obey. The drugs had turned me into nothing more than a puppet. By the time I finally came to, my mother was dead. And I had been exiled from the pack—stripped of my home, my bloodline, everything. The vision shattered. I woke with a gasp, chest heaving. The familiar ceiling stared back at me. My bedroom in the Silverman Estate. I was alive. I was still here. Seven days before the marking ceremony. The Moon Goddess had given me a second chance.
THE DON'S DISCARDED BRIDE
14·Answer-II am the Don's wife. Tonight, he just told me to pack my things and leave by morning. Because his first love—the woman he thought was dead—walked through our mansion doors an hour ago. "You were always temporary, bella," he says, his cold eyes fixed on the woman standing beside him. "A convenient arrangement. Nothing more." Five years. Five years I've stood by his side through gang wars, federal investigations, and assassination attempts. Five years I've transformed his crumbling empire into the most powerful crime family on the East Coast. Five years I've shared his bed, learned his secrets, buried his enemies. And now I'm being dismissed like a housemaid who's overstayed her welcome. "Luciana needs her place back," he continues, his hand moving to her waist with a possessiveness he's never shown me. "She's the one I was always meant to marry. You understood this was business."
The Alpha Who Never Claimed Her
0·AnswerMy name is Clara Quinn, and I've been mated to Nathan Hale for six years. In the upper circles of werewolf society, we're the couple everyone envies. The Alpha head of the Hale family paired with the poised and elegant heiress of the Quinn family—we're flawless at every event we attend. At every pack gathering, we always stand in the most prominent spot, basking in the admiring gazes of our kind. Nathan is tall and devastatingly handsome, radiating the commanding presence of a true Alpha. His eyes shift to amber gold when his emotions run high—the mark of a pureblooded Alpha. And me? As one of the Quinn family heirs, I was raised with the finest education, trained to be graceful and well-spoken. I'm the kind of mate every young werewolf dreams of. But only I know the truth: this relationship has long since stagnated into still water. Nathan is rigid, restrained, almost monastic in his self-control. His treatment of me has always been polite yet distant. His Alpha pheromones are powerful and cold, carrying the scent of fir trees and winter snow—yet he's never released even a hint of warmth for me. In werewolf society, the mingling of pheromones between mates is the most intimate expression of connection. But Nathan has never once let his guard down in my presence. Even the pleasures that should exist between mates feel like a scheduled appointment. Every full moon, he arrives at my room precisely on time and calmly completes the act. The whole thing takes no more than thirty minutes. Never crossing any lines. Never losing himself in the moment. When it's over, he politely wishes me goodnight, then turns and leaves for his own room. Everyone envies me for being Mrs. Hale, but no one knows we've never truly completed a soul bond. Nathan's wolf has never shown itself to me. His beast remains firmly suppressed, as if he feels no desire for me whatsoever. Six years of marriage, and I've never once seen his wolf. I've learned to comfort myself: *It's fine if he doesn't love me. At least we're civil to each other. I have the title of Mrs. Hale, the respect of the pack, a stable life. For many werewolves, that's more than enough.* Until the day Nathan brought home another she-wolf.
Goodbye, Mrs. Nell
0·Answer-IThe night my sister ran from her own wedding, my father dragged me down from the attic and threw me into the back of a black sedan. "The Lancaster family wants a Churchill daughter," he said. "Nobody specified which one." He didn't even look me in the eye. Three hours later, I was standing in the most expensive private medical facility in the country, face to face with a husband who was as good as dead. The Lancaster family attorney slid a contract across the table. Take care of him for three years. If he never wakes up, I could walk away with five million dollars. If he dies — I'd get nothing. I signed. Not because of the five million. It was because of a single line on the last page of the agreement, printed in type so small it was nearly invisible: *"In the event the heir regains consciousness, voting rights comprising 30% of Lancaster Group shall transfer automatically to the legally recognized spouse."* Someone was betting he would wake up. And that someone wasn't me.
The Don’s Wedding, Her Funeral
0·Answer-I"Miss Costa, please confirm this simulated death agreement. Target: You. Timeline: The wedding in seven days. Method: Jump into the sea, body condition must be identifiable. Sign here, and the process will begin." I nodded without even reading the terms again, signing my name at the bottom—Isabella Costa. The deal was done. My "death" in exchange for a real life.
Return of the Barefoot Bride
0·Answer-IThey took the baby from my arms before the umbilical cord had even dried. "The Blackwell heir has no need for a good-luck charm as a mother." Dominic's mother stood in the doorway of the delivery room, her voice as cold as the surgical lights overhead. I reached desperately for that small swaddled bundle, straining with everything I had left. My sutures split open. Blood ran down the side of the operating table. No one looked at me. Every person in that room had closed around the baby like a wall. Dominic stood at the outermost edge of the crowd. He glanced at me — only once — and then turned and signed a document someone had placed in front of him. I didn't find out until later what it was. A authorization surrendering my parental custody. He hadn't even read it. Just as five months earlier, he had signed the contract that made me his wife — the same casual, indifferent hand, like processing a delivery receipt for a package he hadn't ordered and didn't want. Two orderlies escorted me out through the hospital's side entrance. No wheelchair. No pain medication. I walked barefoot across concrete in December, and behind me, the door clicked shut with the finality of a lock being turned. Three years later, I sat across from Dominic Blackwell again — this time as Chief Negotiator of the Ashford Group. He looked at my face. His pupils contracted sharply. "You —" I opened the folder in front of me and smiled, cutting him off before he could finish. "Mr. Blackwell. Let's talk about your 1.2 billion acquisition deal — the one that's about to go into default."
The Mate He Refused
0·AnswerThe instincts of a full moon night never lie. That night, I lost control. Moonlight poured into Lucian's apartment like liquid silver, my wolf stirring in my blood, the familiar sting beneath my skin—the signal that my bones wanted to reshape themselves. As a half-blood werewolf, my control was never as strong as that of purebloods. And he—Lucian Blackwood, my neighbor, heir to the Blackwood family—reached out to me in my most vulnerable moment. No, not just his hand. He gave me everything. His scent, his warmth, his wolf completely intertwined with mine. The sensation was like two souls melting completely under the moonlight, solidifying again as one. I thought—naively thought—this was what the elders called a "mate bond." That kind of union that only happens between destined partners, a merging that reaches into your very marrow. After we made love, I curled up in his arms, listening to his steady heartbeat. Outside the window, the moonlight began to fade, and my wolf gradually calmed. I thought this was the beginning of a new life, that from now on we would be like all officially bonded wolf pairs, running together in wolf form on full moon nights, standing side by side at pack gatherings. Then he lit a cigarette. Smoke spiraled in the moonlight as he turned his face toward me, his eyes lacking the tenderness I'd hoped for, holding only a coldness I couldn't quite name. "Maybe you should find someone else," his voice was calm, like discussing the weather. "You can't keep clinging to me like this, Rhea." I froze, not understanding what he meant.
The Mafia Queen He Betrayed
0·AnswerWhen the attack came, my first instinct was to shield Lucien with my body— and that cost me the child I had carried for eight weeks. Lucien’s first instinct was to escort his adopted sister, Lucinda, into the armored Mercedes. That night, in Lucien’s closet, I found a bra that wasn’t mine, several pairs of luxurious, form-fitting panties—none of which I had bought for him. I dialed a rarely used encrypted channel. “Charles. Activate the plan. I’m moving up my return.” There was a tremor of excitement in Charles’s voice. “We’ve been waiting for this day, Boss.” “Also,” I said evenly, without a hint of emotion, “look into someone for me. Lucinda Moretti. I want everything. Especially the truth about her relationship with old Moretti.”
The Whale We Never Saw
0·AnswerNew York high society knew one thing for certain: Vincent Rossi—the man destined to rule the entire East Coast underworld—had only lost his composure once, and that was at our wedding. When he picked up the emerald ring symbolizing the matriarch's position in the Rossi family and slipped it onto my finger, those hands that could lock onto a target from a thousand meters away trembled like a helpless child's. Ten years. He'd taken me, an orphaned Hawthorne girl, and spoiled me into Manhattan's most pampered—and most envied—rose. No one knew that this man who swore he loved me to his bones would push me off a cliff with his own hands. Three times.
The Cure They Abandoned
0·AnswerDuring a zombie-clearing mission, I was infected with the zombie virus while protecting the squad. But my boyfriend, Ethan Cross—the team leader—used “I can’t show favoritism” as an excuse and gave the only Type III serum to a teammate who had snuck out and gotten infected. He gripped my shoulders, his voice low. “Vera. Trust me. Within the three-day incubation period, I will find you a Type III serum.” I endured the burning pain inside my body and nodded. The next day, he actually brought back a Type III serum. But just one second before the injection was about to enter my veins, Sophie Blair—the teammate who had never once left the camp—suddenly clutched her arm, her voice trembling. “Ethan… I think my wound is heating up… I don’t want to be a burden, but I’m really scared.” In front of everyone, Ethan didn’t hesitate. He handed the Type III serum to Sophie. “Sophie is a team member. If something happens to her, that’s my failure as a leader.” “Vera, you’re the deputy leader—and you’re my girlfriend. I can’t make an exception for you. If I give you the serum and not her, everyone will say you only survived because of me. How am I supposed to lead this team then?” I looked at the smugness that flashed through Sophie’s eyes, and the unquestionable firmness on Ethan’s face, and I let out a humorless laugh. No favoritism? Fine. He’d understand soon enough that without me, he was nothing.
After the Moon’s Revelation, I Chose My Enemy
1·AnswerI am Elena Silvermoon, daughter of the Silver Moon Pack's Alpha. Before choosing my lifelong mate, I knelt alone before the ancient altar of the Moon Goddess, following Silver Moon tradition—praying for divine guidance under the full moon. Most werewolves receive only vague premonitions, fleeting images, or sometimes nothing at all. But I was different. The Moon Goddess granted me a complete, crystal-clear, undeniable vision of the future. I saw myself in a white ceremonial gown, standing at the center of the sacred marking stones, completing the marking ritual with Lucas Whitehall. His fangs pierced the side of my neck, declaring the union of our souls and instincts. The pack's cheers were deafening, my father watched us with satisfaction, love shone in my eyes—everything was perfect. Then the vision shifted. Just months later, Lucas's "body" was brought back to the pack. They said he'd been ambushed by a rival pack during routine patrol and died heroically in battle. I watched myself kneeling beside his cold corpse, tears streaming down my face, the whole world drained of color. The vision twisted again, as if torn by an invisible hand. At the edge of unfamiliar territory, deep in dense pine forest. I saw Lucas—who was "supposed to be dead"—alive, pulling a she-wolf tightly into his embrace. It was Livia Green. The illegitimate daughter of the Green family, always keeping her head down, playing the pitiful victim. The moment the vision ended, my entire body began to shake violently. My fingertips were ice-cold, as if frozen in eternal winter night. So he never loved me. He would even fake his death to escape me. "Elena?" Father's deep voice pulled me from my memories. He sat upright on the Alpha's throne, his silver-gray eyes full of affection and expectation. On the long table before him lay four scrolls neatly arranged—detailed profiles of four potential mates. "Have you decided?" he asked, his voice gentle yet carrying undeniable authority. "Who will you choose as your mate?"
From His Intended Luna to His Enemy
0·AnswerFor twenty years, I was the cherished darling of the largest werewolf pack in the North. Then I found out I was nothing but a fraud—a baby swapped at birth. I packed my bags that very night, ready to leave. But Kael Blackmoor—my brother—cornered me in my room, and what followed consumed three days and three nights. "I love you," he said. "I’ve been waiting for this for so long." He proved the depth of his obsession with every touch. The moment we stepped out of that room, he announced our Marking Ceremony. My adoptive parents were furious. He stripped them of every shred of authority and seized total control of the Blackmoor pack, crowning himself Alpha. When the real heiress, Elowen, threw tantrums, he revoked every last one of her privileges and made sure she couldn’t hold her head up in high society. He was a wolf who’d chosen his prey. He kept me caged within the territory, showering me with a love so twisted it bordered on madness. I tried to escape more times than I could count. Every time, he dragged me back. The farthest I ever got was deep into the border forests. He brought an entire squad of his elite to hunt me down, hauled me out of the underbrush, pinned me against an ancient tree, and kissed me until I couldn’t breathe. "Seraphina," he murmured against my ear, teeth grazing the lobe, "you could run to the ends of the earth and I’d still find you. Next time you try to escape…" He paused, his voice dropping to something low and dangerous. "I’ll sever your tendons." His net was everywhere. There was nowhere left to run. Until a month ago, when he slipped out in the dead of night to pick moonflowers from a cliffside—because I’d made an offhand remark about wanting some. Rogue wolves ambushed him during the climb and cracked his skull. When he woke, he remembered nothing. Not his savage possession of me. Not those nights tangled together until dawn. Not the countless times he’d whispered “I love you” against my skin. My adoptive parents were overjoyed. When they introduced me, they didn’t call me his unmarked mate—the woman he’d loved to the point of insanity. They told him I was the manor’s maid. And now they wanted to use his amnesia to get rid of me for good.
She Knelt Once. Never Again
0·AnswerI should have been waiting in the study for Vincent to come home. As the lady of the Moreno household, I had grown accustomed to waiting alone—waiting for him to extract himself from that dark world I could never touch, waiting for him to push open the bedroom door with the scent of blood and power still clinging to him. But tonight, I heard something I was never meant to hear. “Vincent, this can’t go on.” It was Luca’s voice, drifting through the half-open door of the study. “We may look alike, but I’ve been playing you for so long now—sooner or later, she’s going to figure it out.” My footsteps froze at the corner of the hallway. My heart skipped a beat. Vincent’s voice came next, low and indifferent, carrying that unquestionable authority I knew so well: “Lights off, a few drinks. She can’t tell the difference.” “But—” “Grace needs me there in person.” Vincent cut him off. “Evelyn—you keep handling her.” I heard Luca sigh. In that moment, the lights in the hallway seemed to dim—or maybe it was my world that suddenly lost all its color.
The Betrayed Half-Blood Queen
1·AnswerWhen I woke, the bite mark in the hollow of my shoulder still burned—a deep wound Oleg had left the night before, his hands gripping my waist as his teeth sank in. Instinctively, I followed his scent, only to catch a second trail at the mouth of the cave behind the waterfall—unfamiliar, potent, the unmistakable heat of a she-wolf in season. Inside the cave, Oleg had Liya pinned by the nape. He lowered his head and bit down on her collarbone, the same way he had done to me countless times before. "Don't be afraid. I'll be gentle... I'll give you the perfect experience, my darling fiancée." My heart felt pierced by a blade. I stood frozen outside the waterfall, water droplets sliding from the tips of my hair and blurring my vision. Through the curtain of water, two shadows merged together in a suffocating tangle. Oleg had Liya pressed against the stone wall, her hair disheveled, fresh red marks scattered across her throat. She gasped softly, "You're so skilled. Is it true what they say... that you practiced on that half-blood by your side?" Oleg chuckled low—the same voice he'd used to coax me in whispers last night—but every word now drove into my heart like a knife. "Darling, are you jealous?" "Don't worry about her. You're the noble princess of the Silver Vein Pack, and she's nothing but a lowly half-blood. She's not worth your concern." "If it bothers you, once you become my Luna, you can deal with her however you like." A roar filled my ears, drowning out even the sound of the water. Oleg's fingertips traced the side of Liya's neck with terrifying expertise—the same touch that had made me melt completely the night before. Yet in his heart, I was nothing more than a convenient tool. A lowly half-blood. All that tenderness, all that sweetness—lies he had spun to bind me, to use me.
She Called Me a Mistress — I Was the Don’s Wife
0·AnswerI had just been invited to appear at a livestreamed charity gala alongside Vivian Drew, an influencer under my son Marco's company. I was about to greet her when she tilted her head and said something utterly outrageous. "You look so familiar, ma'am. Like the woman from that private video I saw." "The one with the seventy-year-old man. You know... the S&M thing." The comments section exploded: *Holy shit! What is she saying?!* *Oh my God, this woman looks so elegant and refined, but behind closed doors she's into THAT?* *Is she into old guys or something?! If it's about money, hit me up!* The chat devolved into chaos. The host coughed awkwardly. Vivian quickly covered her mouth. "Oh no, I must have you confused with someone else. Someone as elegant as you could never do something so... low-class." "I was just babbling. Don't take it seriously, everyone." I smiled. "No, you've got the right person." "When you and Marco discussed your engagement, you even called me 'Mom.'"
