Novels by Rain

Evelyn felt her dress swish around her ankles, the rose silk tickling her calves as she walked toward the steps of the hall. The air was thick with the scent of gardenias, infused with the hum of voices and laughter bouncing off the polished wood beams overhead. Outside, a late summer sun slanted through the windows, turning the dust motes into glitter.She held her daughter, Olivia, tight in her arms—a sturdy, dimpled toddler smelling of milk and biscuits, dark hair curling defiantly away from her bow. Olivia reached for Evelyn’s dangling earrings, gurgling with delight as her mother nuzzled her cheek, smothering her with kisses.“Enough, Mama!” Olivia squealed, squirming.Evelyn laughed, setting her on her hip and pressing a final kiss to her forehead before glancing up at Hunter. He was waiting at the bottom of the steps, looking irrepressibly pleased, hands thrust into the pockets of his navy suit. A violet boutonniere—pinned by Evelyn herself just hours earlier—stood vibrant agai

Three years later - Applause swept through the ballroom in bright, crashing waves as Evelyn’s speech drew to a close. Across the sea of elegant tables and flickering candles, faces shone with admiration. Camera crews crisscrossed in silence, red LEDs like fireflies, their lens trained on Evelyn as she stood, radiant, beneath the crystal chandeliers.The gold award for Woman Empowerment sparkled warmly in her hands, heavier than she expected—a symbol of so many years of struggle, doubt, and relentless hope. As the applause swelled, Evelyn’s chest shivered with the joy and disbelief of it all. She cleared her throat, gathered the final words she’d practiced for weeks, and let the room fall quiet.“My journey has not been easy, and I know there is so much more to do. Still, I stand here tonight because of the women who lifted me when I could not stand on my own, and the men who stood beside me, not ahead of me. This award isn’t just mine. It belongs to every woman who ever wondered if h

The honeymoon was everything Evelyn had never dared to dream: an unfolding tapestry of candlelit dinners, winding cobblestone streets, sun-dappled vineyards, and secret laughter that felt as new as it was familiar. For the first time in years—perhaps the first time in her life—Evelyn allowed herself to simply be happy, to lean fully into the radiance of mornings and the comfort of nights. In those days with Hunter, she was no longer bracing herself for disappointment or pain. She dared to want, to hope, and to trust.Their first morning in the coastal villa, light poured across the tangle of their legs, casting patterns on the rumpled sheets. The scent of salt and wild rosemary drifted through lace curtains as Evelyn woke with her head on Hunter’s chest, the steady drumbeat of his heart guiding her from dreams into waking. For a long moment, she merely listened, tracing the edge of his jaw with a fingertip. Hunter, drowsy and unguarded, tightened his hold around her waist, sighing con

The sun rose over the bustling market district, awash in gold. Their hotel was only a short walk from the city’s beating heart—a labyrinth of stalls packed tightly under patchwork awnings. Aromatic clouds curled through the alleyways, lush with spices and grilled meats, mingling with laughter and shouts in several languages. Evelyn felt at home in the chaos, her cheeks flushed with anticipation as she tucked one arm through Hunter’s and pulled him along.Hunter wore his favorite linen shirt and a pair of worn jeans, but his usual corporate seriousness seemed to have melted away with the morning sun. He gamely let Evelyn lead the way, smiling at her delight. Market sellers called out from their stalls, waving fragrant teas and vivid silks. They weaved between a crowd of locals haggling, tourists gesturing at maps, and children darting past with sticky sweets clutched in their hands.“Look at these colors!” Evelyn exclaimed, pausing at a table bursting with dyed scarves and beaded bags.

The private jet sliced through the cloudless sky, silver and clean against a world of soft blue. Sunlight streamed through the windows, pooling in golden puddles across the pale leather seats, glinting off Hunter’s wedding band as he laced his fingers through Evelyn’s. She didn’t let go, not for a single mile of the flight, and each soft squeeze sent a thrill humming through her chest. She was his wife now—hers, always.Evelyn had imagined their honeymoon would be impossible, a dream reserved for someone else’s fate. Yet here she was, glowing inside and out, her hand safely locked in Hunter’s grip as they soared across continents to a place where the world felt impossibly far away. A blend of luxury and intimacy: secluded cliffs, private plunge pools, sandy coves lit by lanterns and moonlight—every whim attended to but every moment theirs alone.Hunter caught her staring out the window, lost in thought. “Planning our next great adventure, Mrs. Blackwood?” He murmured her new name, sav

A gentle breeze rolled in from the ocean, carrying with it the tangled scent of salt and blooming gardenias. Under a billowing white canopy lined with strings of twinkling fairy lights, Evelyn surveyed the guests weaving between tables adorned with trailing vines and jars brimming with wildflowers. In the distance, linen-draped lanterns glowed amber, and the soft, persistent murmur of the surf gave a rhythm to the laughter and clinking glasses around them.Everything felt impossibly dreamlike. Plates of lemon cake and tiny crystal flutes of champagne circled from hand to hand. Children in pastel dresses darted around adults’ ankles, bare feet kissing the damp sand. Someone’s tie had already come undone; another’s crown of daisies bobbed crooked in her hair. Through it all, Hunter watched Evelyn. Not with the nervous admiration of a new love, but with a profound calm—a deep, unshakeable certainty that made her pulse skip.A string quartet under the canopy plucked out a gentle, familiar

2 years later - The stage, still shimmering under the golden wash of the spotlights, echoed with the thunderous applause even as the velvet curtains descended, sealing off the spectacle. Selena stood at the heart of the stage, her chest heaving, her breath coming in ragged, triumphant gasps. The final, soaring notes of her performance, a culmination of years of relentless dedication, hung in the air, a testament to her talent. Yet, the audience's roaring cheers, a wave of unabashed adoration, confirmed what she already knew: she had captivated them.She had done it. She had finally reached the pinnacle she had so ardently pursued.From her early days as a precocious prima donna in the grand opera houses, where her crystalline soprano had enchanted audiences, to this very night—her Broadway debut as the leading lady of a prestigious opera troupe—her journey had been a testament to her unwavering spirit. Yet, as she took her final, graceful bow, her gaze fell upon a familiar sight wait

The soft glow of the fireplace flickered across the dimly lit living room, casting long, dancing shadows that painted the walls with a warm, intimate hue. Julian leaned back on the couch, his arm stretched along the top, a silent observer of Selena as she tucked her legs beneath her, creating a cozy nest of her oversized sweater. There was something about the way the firelight danced in her eyes, catching the subtle flecks of gold and amber, that made his chest tighten with a complex mix of tenderness and a vague, unsettling apprehension. He’d always admired her quiet strength, but tonight, there was a fragile vulnerability that both captivated and worried him."You've been quiet," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that barely disturbed the stillness, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. The simple gesture was meant to be comforting, a gentle reminder of his presence, but he felt a flicker of unease at the way she flinched slightly, as if startled by his touc

Selena's breath hitched as Julian planted a series of soft, wet kisses down her neck, his teeth gently nibbling at the tender skin. His hands roamed freely across her body, leaving goosebumps and a warmth that felt like wildfire wherever they touched. He caressed her breasts, teasing the nipples until they were taut with desire.Feeling the firmness of his erection pressed against her, Selena couldn't resist any longer and reached down to stroke him slowly. The base of his cock felt thick and velvety in her grasp. Julian let out a deep moan that reverberated through her entire body, sending shivers dancing along her spine.Their limbs tangled together, Selena's legs wrapped around Julian's waist as their bodies moved in perfect sync. Their breathing grew ragged and desperate, their exhales and inhales mingling together in a symphony of passion.Julian's gaze lingered on Selena's flushed face and he paused for a moment, his pupils dilating with unbridled lust. "You are so beautiful," h

Every day was a new adventure, every moment a testament to their connection, their bond growing stronger with each passing hour. They explored the city together, sharing kisses in the rain, and dancing in the moonlight, their laughter echoing through the streets, their love a constant, steady flame, burning bright, warming their hearts.It was perfect, it was bliss, it was everything she had ever wanted, and as the days passed, and the months turned into years, Selena couldn't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, fairytales could come true after all."Marry me," he whispered one night, his voice a low, husky murmur against her skin, his eyes filled with an intensity that made her heart ache."Aren't we already married?"He smiled. "I want to marry you again, grand and happily."She nodded, her smile a promise, her gaze filled with a love that spoke volumes, her answer a silent declaration of her devotion.He smiled, his expression tender, his gaze filled with a deep, unfathomable aff

They returned to their home at night.Home.Selena loved how the word felt on her lips, a promise, a hope, a dream come true.That night, after a romantic dinner in a dimly lit restaurant, their meal accompanied by a string quartet and a glass of rich, velvety wine, Julian led her upstairs, his touch reverent, his eyes dark with a passion that mirrored her own.When he touched her, when he kissed her, her mind went blank, a haze of desire, and her body, her body was on fire, aching, longing for the feeling of him, the warmth of his skin against hers, the intimacy of their shared pleasure.He gently pushed her on the bed and hovered above her.She felt his hand brush the sensitive spot on her stomach, moving up to her breasts and cupping them, teasing them, and she couldn't hold back the moans that escaped her lips.She closed her eyes and arched her back. His hot, wet mouth enveloped her left breast while his thumb circled the nipple of her right.He sucked, nipped and bit until the p

Paris was everything Selena had imagined, and yet, it was also so much more. It was a living, breathing dream, a symphony of sights, sounds, and scents that resonated deep within her soul. She had seen the postcards, read the novels, watched the romantic comedies, but nothing, absolutely nothing, could have prepared her for the sheer, intoxicating reality of being here. The city hummed with a vibrant energy, a palpable sense of history and romance that permeated every cobblestone street, every ornate building, every whispered conversation. Every corner held a story, every street exuded a timeless charm, and every glance Julian sent her way, every touch, every word, amplified the magic tenfold.Their first morning in Paris, the soft light of dawn filtering through the curtains of their bedroom, Julian had woken her with a gentle kiss on her forehead, a feather-light touch that sent a shiver down her spine. "Get dressed, sweetheart. We’re going out." His voice, a low, husky rumble, w

That night, after the dishes had been cleared and the penthouse had fallen into its customary hush, Colden retreated to his private office on the east wing. The room was a sanctum of dark leather and polished chrome, illuminated by the soft glow of a desk lamp that cast long shadows across the walls lined with bookshelves. He sank into his ergonomic chair, the leather creaking faintly under his weight, and powered up his laptop. The screen flickered to life, revealing a slew of emails that had accumulated during dinner. Most were mundane—reports from acquisitions teams, updates on stock fluctuations—but one caught his eye immediately. It was from his assistant, marked with a high-priority flag: "Honeymoon Arrangements Confirmed."Colden clicked it open, his expression unchanging as he scanned the details. As per the contractual addendum to their marriage agreement, designed to solidify their public image as a blissfully wedded couple, a luxury honeymoon had been arranged. The ticket

The sun hung low in the afternoon sky, casting long shadows over the bustling streets as Elara stormed out of the Frost villa. The sight of them hand-in-hand, parading their so-called "marriage" like some triumphant spectacle, had ignited a fire in her chest that burned hotter with every step she took away from the building. Her heels clicked sharply against the pavement, her designer purse swinging wildly as she hailed a cab with a furious wave. "Home, now!" she barked at the driver, slamming the door so hard the vehicle shook. The ride was a blur of clenched fists and muttered curses under her breath, her mind replaying the scene: Colden's firm grip on that wretched girl's hand. It should have been her. It was supposed to be her.The cab screeched to a halt outside her family's opulent mansion, a sprawling estate nestled in the city's most exclusive neighborhood, with manicured lawns and towering wrought-iron gates that screamed old money. Elara flung a wad of cash at the driver w

Colden strode through the gleaming corridors of his company's headquarters, the click of his polished shoes echoing against the marble floors like a metronome of authority. The day had been a whirlwind—meetings with the board, reassuring investors, and parading Layla as the picture-perfect wife to quell any lingering whispers from the scandal.She'd handled it remarkably well, her arm linked with his, offering smiles that, to his surprise, didn't seem entirely forced. But now, as he approached his corner office on the top floor, his mind was already shifting to the next agenda item: a conference call with overseas partners.Maria, his ever-efficient assistant, was waiting just outside the door, her tablet clutched in one hand and a stack of files in the other. She was in her mid-forties, sharp-eyed and unflappable, having served him for over a decade. But today, there was a flicker of unease in her expression as he neared."Mr. Frost," she said, her voice low and professional, "there'

Maria had greeted Layla with a professional smile, her demeanor efficient yet warm. "Mrs. Frost, it's a pleasure. Mr. Frost has briefed me; we'll head straight to his office. The employees are eager to see you."Layla followed Maria quietly through the long, polished hallways on the executive floor, her heels sinking slightly into the plush carpet. The walls were adorned with abstract art and plaques commemorating Frost Enterprises' achievements—mergers, innovations, global expansions. It was a testament to Colden's ruthless drive.The hallways seemed endless, a labyrinth of glass-walled conference rooms and private offices. Maria led the way with purposeful strides, occasionally nodding to colleagues who offered polite greetings. "Just through here," Maria said over her shoulder, her voice calm and reassuring. "Mr. Frost's suite is at the end. We'll avoid the main floor traffic."They turned a corner into a quieter corridor, lined with frosted glass panels that diffused the overhead

"Colden," Damian said, his voice smooth as aged whiskey but laced with an undercurrent of mockery. "Right on time, as always. And this must be the lovely Layla. Charming to finally meet the woman who's tamed my wayward son."Colden greeted his father with the stiff politeness of someone forced into civility, his handshake firm but brief, like touching a live coal. "Father," he replied evenly, his tone devoid of warmth. "I wasn't expecting you today. To what do we owe this visit?"The air between them thickened with unspoken tension—two men from the same bloodline but opposite in soul. Where Colden was a pillar of calculated restraint, building his legacy through innovation and merit, Damian was the old guard: ruthless, manipulative, a man who'd clawed his way to the top by stepping on necks and forging alliances in smoke-filled rooms. Their history was a battlefield of betrayals—Damian's affairs that shattered the family, his attempts to control Colden's rise, and the bitter boardro

The next morning dawned crisp and clear, sunlight filtering through the penthouse windows like a hesitant promise. Layla stood before the full-length mirror in her walk-in closet, her hands trembling slightly as she smoothed the fabric of her chosen outfit—a tailored navy blue dress that hugged her figure modestly, paired with low heels and a simple pearl necklace. It was elegant, professional, the kind of attire that screamed "CEO's wife" without trying too hard. I have to look the part, she thought, her reflection staring back with wide, anxious eyes. Composed on the outside, even if I'm a mess inside. What if they see through the act? What if I trip or say something stupid? Her heart raced at the prospect of performing this charade, but she squared her shoulders, drawing on the resolve she'd built over the past week. Colden had been true to his word so far; she owed it to him—and to herself—to hold up her end.Downstairs in the foyer, Colden was already waiting, his black suit im

Lily’s POVThe rest of the school day unfolded in a surreal, almost dreamlike state of forced normalcy. It was a carefully orchestrated performance, a collective act of denial played out against the backdrop of ringing bells and echoing hallways.No fights erupted, no sharp, sarcastic jabs were thrown my way, no cruel comments were uttered within earshot. The usual undercurrent of tension that often simmered beneath the surface of my interactions with Ryder and his entourage was strangely absent.But the silence that filled the void was far more deafening, more oppressive than any verbal assault. It was a thick, suffocating blanket that stifled the very air I breathed, a constant, aching reminder of the unspoken truth that hung heavy between us.Ryder didn’t speak to me again after that first, chillingly possessive “mate” jab in the morning. He moved through the crowded classrooms and bustling hallways as if I were invisible, a mere figment of his imagination. His booming laughter ech

Lily’s POVThe morning sun, usually a welcome sight, felt like an unwelcome intruder, its harsh, unforgiving rays streaming through the classroom windows as if determined to expose every raw nerve I had desperately tried to bury beneath a fragile veneer of normalcy the night before. It illuminated the dust motes dancing in the air, each one a tiny, mocking reminder of the chaos that now reigned within me.School felt different today. Colder, somehow. Quieter, despite the usual morning bustle of students. Or maybe that was just my perception, the world around me muted and distorted as I walked through the familiar hallways like a ghost, a spectral presence pretending that everything was normal when the very foundations of my existence had irrevocably shifted.They were my mates.Ryder.Hunter.The words echoed in the hollow chambers of my mind, a relentless, insidious mantra that felt more like a curse than a blessing. Each syllable carried the weight of my past pain, the chilling unce

Lily’s POVThe walk back into the grand hall felt like traversing a tightrope suspended over a chasm of unspoken truths. Sam’s steady presence beside me was the only anchor in the swirling vortex of my emotions.My heartbeat hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat that echoed the chaotic rhythm of my thoughts. My skin felt strangely disconnected, alternating between icy chills and sudden, unwelcome flashes of heat. The invisible thread that tethered me to them – Ryder and Hunter – seemed to tighten with each step I took toward the throng of smiling strangers and the looming table laden with brightly wrapped gifts.I forced a smile onto my face, a brittle, carefully constructed mask that felt alien and unnatural, as if it had been crudely glued there. My mom’s eyes, scanning the room, finally locked onto mine, and her entire face illuminated with a radiant joy that pierced my carefully constructed defenses. “There you are! We were starting to worry, sweetheart. Everyone’s waiting

Lily’s POVI stood there, by the edge of the shimmering turquoise water, the cold night air clinging to me like a damp, unwelcome shroud. The distant sounds of the party – the muffled laughter, the faint strains of music – seemed to mock the turmoil raging within me.The golden flickers of light spilling from the mansion’s windows danced across the surface of the pool, a distorted reflection of the joy I couldn’t share. My dress, a flowing expanse of soft blue silk that had felt so promising just hours ago, now felt heavy and constricting against my skin, a tangible representation of the weight that had settled in my soul.The door behind me creaked open again, the sound slicing through the stillness of the night. I didn’t need to turn to know who it was. The soft, rhythmic click of heels against the cool tile was unmistakable. Slowly, reluctantly, I turned to see my mother—Olivia—walking toward me, her silhouette framed by the warm glow emanating from the doorway. Concern was etched

Lily’s POV“Mates… mates… they’re our mates,” my wolf kept whispering, a mournful lament that echoed within the confines of my skull. It was a sound I had never heard from her before – a raw, wounded cry that tugged at my heartstrings despite my fierce resistance.“No,” I choked out, my voice a mere breath against the stillness of the night. My hands gripped the edge of the pool, my nails digging into the rough cement, as if I could anchor myself to reality, to the life I knew before this impossible revelation. “No, it can’t be. It can’t be.Of all the people in the world, the moon goddess, the supposed architect of our destinies, had to choose them? The sheer injustice of it was a bitter pill that threatened to choke me.Ryder—the devil incarnate, the golden boy whose casual cruelty had haunted my high school years. The one who tormented me with his cutting words, who humiliated me with his dismissive glances, who had even, on that horrific night, slapped me across the face, a brutal

Hunter’s POVThe celebratory air in the grand ballroom evaporated the instant that single, earth-shattering word echoed in the deepest recesses of my being. It wasn't spoken aloud, not by human tongue, but by the ancient, primal part of me – my wolf.Mate.The pronouncement hit with the force of a physical blow, knocking the breath from my lungs and sending a jolt of raw, untamed energy coursing through my veins. My wolf, usually a steady, watchful presence, surged forward with a ferocity I hadn't anticipated, a guttural snarl of pure instinct ripping through my consciousness.Mine. Ours. The claim was possessive, absolute, echoing the undeniable truth that resonated within the very core of my soul.No. The denial was a reflexive whisper in the face of such overwhelming certainty. No way. Not her. Lily? The quiet, almost invisible girl who navigated the halls of our lives like a ghost? The one Ryder… the one we had both, in our own ways, overlooked?And yet, despite the shock, despite