Sofie_Vert01

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1. Thieran & Rami
They act like a married couple. Everyone sees it. But for reasons no one quite understands, Thieran Alden and Rami Veer remain caught in the space between almost and never. Devotion is obvious—but naming it might break the delicate rhythm they’ve built.


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2. Niall & Ted
A reckless decision places Ted in Niall Alden’s path—and he’s never allowed to leave. Whether it’s obsession, fate, or something dangerously close to love, Niall upends the quiet, crumbling world Ted has fought to survive in. And maybe… Ted doesn’t hate it as much as he should.


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3. Mirelle & Raina
Raina Langston has every reason to despise Mirelle Alden. And she does—until a single night fractures everything she thought she knew. When a child and a future hang in the balance, the only person who might save her… is the woman she’s always tried to fight.


STOP!!!!!
DO YOU LIKE...
 1.  Omegaverse
 2. Green flags.
 3. Zero dubcon, noncon and all that.
 4. Contract marriage.
 5. Accidental pregnancy.
 6. Female alphas.(You know how rare they are)
 7. Grumpyxsunshine
 8. Blackcatxgoldenretriever
 9. Bickering.
10. Smut.
11. You're still reading might as well give it a shot.

To love an Alden: Omegaverse BL and GL

I wake up hard. Frustratingly, painfully hard.

The kind of hard that comes from a dream you shouldn't be having, except it wasn't really a dream—it was a memory dressed up with better lighting and fewer consequences.

I lie there for a second, staring up at the ceiling, jaw tight. The ache between my legs is secondary to the embarrassment crawling up my spine. Because yes—it was explicit. Yes—it was hot. And yes, I remember every second of it because I lived it.

And now my brain, my inconvenient, hormone-fueled brain, is running it back on a loop while my body reacts like I'm some teenager and not a fully grown, elite-level alpha.

I turn my head. Raina's still asleep. Her breathing is soft, her mouth slightly parted, the duvet pulled halfway up her back. Her silk hair wrap is still neatly in place—of course it is. She always sleeps like she's unbothered by the world.

I get out of bed as carefully as I can, moving like the floor is made of glass. She doesn't stir, just shifts slightly, curling deeper into the sheets. I grab a towel and head to the bathroom.

The second I close the door, I exhale through my nose and twist the shower knob on. Hot water blasts out, hissing like it knows exactly why I'm here.

I lean one hand against the tile and drop my head forward.

It's been a month. One full month since that night in the motel. And sure, I've had chances since then. Women—and a couple of men—who would've happily let me blow off steam. But every time, I pulled back. I couldn't go through with it. My body wasn't responding.

Which is insane. I'm an alpha. A healthy, active, young alpha. I'm not supposed to have off days. I'm supposed to want it—easily, consistently. Instinctively.

And yet the only person who seems to short-circuit every instinct I have is Raina Langston.

The only time I felt even a flicker of desire was with a woman who resembled Raina—and I stopped. Couldn't go through with it. Because wanting her meant something. And I wasn't ready to face that.

I sigh and let the steam wrap around me, eyes closing. But it doesn't help.

That night—our night—I can say it now... it was probably one of the best of my life. No pretending. No restraint. No masks. We went at each other like animals in heat, like people too angry to touch gently, too desperate not to.

Like enemies in a war with no ceasefire in sight.

She took everything I gave her like her body had been made for it. She matched me, challenged me, submitted and fought back in equal measure. I've never felt more alive. More dangerous. More seen.

And I'd be lying if I said I haven't thought about it every night since.

The way she sounded. Those breathless moans, those snarled curses that somehow turned into whimpers.

The way she smelled—that sweet, clean scent that stayed on my skin long after I left her body.

The way she looked at me. Wild. Furious. Begging.

The exact shade of her nipples, the flush in her cheeks, the bite mark I left on her collarbone. The way her dark brown skin gleamed under the shitty motel lighting, every muscle taut, trembling, gorgeous.

The way her legs still clung to me, even when she swore she hated me.

I finish quicker than I want to admit.

I rinse off, shut off the water, and step out of the shower, towel slung low around my hips. I stare at my reflection in the fogged-up mirror. My hair's damp. My eyes are tired. And I look like a person who just lost an argument with his own hormones.

I drag the towel over my face and sigh.

Right. Work. I have meetings today. Reports to submit. Family drama to ignore. No time for this spiral.

Lost argument