Dark Past Stories

I woke up in a hospital bed with six months erased from my mind and a dead fiancé I can't remember. The only person they let near me is Detective Dominic Davenport—the devastatingly handsome cop who handled my case. He says we were secretly engaged, shows me texts, photos, even a ring that feels completely foreign. Doctors call it trauma. My gut calls it a lie. Every memory that returns makes him look like either my savior or my destroyer, and his 'protection' is starting to feel like a cage I can't escape. Is the real betrayal the blood on my hands… or the man refusing to let me remember the truth?

I’ve spent seven years hunting the syndicate that butchered my coven—only to find their deadliest enforcer is Ronan Bellingham, the same broad-shouldered bastard who starred in every forbidden teenage fantasy I ever had. Now an ancient blood oath has chained us together through a living grimoire that pulses with dark power, forcing us to share spells, secrets, and far too much body heat. Every shared incantation drags us closer, every stolen breath against warm skin makes me hate him more... until I realize falling for the man who destroyed my past might be the one thing that finally breaks me.

I built my entire life on control—until the board shoved Raphael Davenport into my department and my carefully frozen world started melting. He's brilliant, arrogant, and far too young to look at me like he already owns me... and somehow he knows the one secret that could ruin everything I've sacrificed for. Now every lecture hall showdown crackles with something far more dangerous than hatred, and I'm terrified the man I should destroy might be the only one who can truly see the real me.

I woke up in a hospital bed with no memory of the last year, a positive pregnancy test in my hand, and the woman I swore I'd never speak to again offering me the only roof for miles. Vivian Bellingham—sharp, untouchable, and the last person I wanted near my baby—says the child is hers. But I can't remember touching her, kissing her, or falling so hard I destroyed us both. Now I'm stuck in her cliffside mansion, belly growing, while every accidental brush of her fingers makes my body remember what my mind won't. How long can I pretend this baby isn't ripping us both apart again?