Introduction
Share the book to
About Author

bright olamilo
Chapter 1
Vera Kane - POV
The taste of copper fills my mouth before I'm fully awake.
My eyes snap open to fluorescent bathroom light cutting through my skull like a scalpel, and I'm standing—when did I get up?—in front of my mirror with something cold and sharp pressed against the pulse point beneath my jaw. My reflection stares back at me, wide-eyed and terrified, but my hands... my hands are steady as stone, gripping the kitchen knife with professional precision I've never possessed.
"Stop," I whisper to myself, but my hands don't listen.
The pressure increases. A thin line of blood appears on my throat in the mirror, and I watch in horror as my own face remains perfectly calm while inside I'm screaming. This isn't me. This can't be me.
Fight back.
The thought comes from somewhere deeper than conscious will, and suddenly I'm wrestling with my own body, muscles straining against muscles, my right hand trying to complete the motion while my left hand claws at my wrist. The knife wavers, the blade catching bathroom light like a silver promise of release I don't want to keep.
"NO!" The word tears from my throat, and my grip finally loosens. The knife clatters into the sink, the sound echoing off marble tiles like a gunshot.
I stumble backward, gasping, and that's when I notice everything else.
I'm wearing leather. Black leather pants that cling to my legs like a second skin, pants I've never seen before in my life. A fitted jacket that smells like cigarettes and danger, nothing like the soft cottons and silks that fill my closet. My knuckles are scraped raw, skin torn and bruised, with something dark caked under my fingernails that makes my stomach lurch.
Blood. Someone else's blood.
My apartment spreads out beyond the bathroom doorway like a crime scene. The Italian leather sofa is overturned, its legs pointing toward the ceiling like a dead animal. My coffee table lies in pieces, the glass top shattered into a constellation of sharp stars across the hardwood floor. The floor-to-ceiling windows that normally showcase Elliott Bay's gray morning light are spider-webbed with cracks, as if someone tried to break out from the inside.
As if I tried to break out.
My phone. I need my phone. I pick my way carefully through the wreckage, glass crunching under my bare feet—when did I take my shoes off?—until I find it wedged between the overturned sofa cushions. The screen shows 3:47 AM, and there's a notification that makes my blood freeze.
Security footage available. Motion detected: 12:23 AM - 3:15 AM.
I tap the notification with trembling fingers, and my building's security app opens to show grainy black-and-white footage of the lobby. At 12:23 AM, I watch myself stride through the entrance with predatory confidence, moving like someone who owns every room she enters. The woman on the screen wears the same leather outfit I'm wearing now, but she carries herself like a weapon wrapped in human skin.
That's not me. That can't be me.
But the timestamp doesn't lie, and neither does the woman's face when she turns toward the camera for a brief moment. It's my face, but wrong. My features arranged into an expression I've never worn, eyes that hold secrets I don't remember learning.
I fast-forward through hours of empty lobby footage until 3:15 AM, when the same woman returns. This time she's moving differently—urgent, almost panicked. She keeps looking over her shoulder as if something's chasing her, and there are dark stains on her jacket that weren't there when she left.
The footage ends, and I'm left staring at my reflection in the phone's black screen. My hands won't stop shaking.
I need to document this. The thought comes automatically, the same compulsion that's driven me to photograph everything in my life since the integration therapy began. Evidence. Proof that these blackouts are happening, that I'm losing pieces of myself to someone I don't recognize.
I grab my camera from what's left of my dresser and start shooting. The overturned furniture. The broken glass. My bloody knuckles. The leather clothes that smell like smoke and secrets. Each flash illuminates another piece of a puzzle I can't solve, another fragment of a life I'm apparently living without permission.
That's when I see the note.
It's tucked under the corner of my laptop, written in my own handwriting but with an aggressive slant I don't recognize. The paper is expensive—cream colored, heavy stock that I keep in my desk for important correspondence—but the words are scrawled across it like a hastily composed battle plan.
Day 31. She's getting stronger. The integration isn't working—she's fighting back. Find Ash before she finds you. —R
R. Raven. The name Dr. Voss uses for my "other self," the personality that emerges during my dissociative episodes. But this note suggests something Dr. Voss never mentioned—that Raven isn't just a symptom of my fractured psyche.
She's fighting something. Or someone.
And who is Ash?
I flip the paper over, hoping for more information, but there's only a small sketch in the corner. A bridge, drawn with quick, confident strokes. Something about it tugs at my memory, but the harder I try to remember, the more it slips away like water through my fingers.
My phone buzzes, making me jump so violently that I nearly drop it. A text message from Dr. Voss, sent just now at 3:52 AM.
Emergency session required. Come alone. Tell no one about tonight's episode.
I stare at the message, ice forming in my veins. How does she know about tonight? How does she know anything happened at all?
Unless she's been watching.
I look around my destroyed apartment with new eyes, searching for cameras, listening devices, anything that would explain how my doctor knows about my 3 AM breakdown. The thought that I might be under surveillance in my own home should terrify me, but instead it brings an odd sort of relief. If someone's been watching, then at least there's proof. Evidence that these episodes aren't just psychotic breaks but something else entirely.
Something that requires emergency intervention at four in the morning.
I move to my laptop, stepping carefully around the broken glass, and open the folder where I keep all my documentation. Photos of strange clothes appearing in my closet. Screenshots of texts I don't remember sending. Receipts from places I've never been to, restaurants and bars that Raven apparently frequents during my blackouts.
But this is different. This is violent. Dangerous.
The fresh injection marks on my inner arm throb as I type, two small puncture wounds surrounded by bruising that definitely wasn't there when I went to bed. Someone—Raven?—has been injecting something into my system, but what? And why?
My reflection catches my eye in the darkened window, and for a moment I see her. The other woman. Raven. She's there in the set of my shoulders, the way my head tilts slightly to the right, the curve of my mouth that suggests secrets I don't remember keeping.
"What did you do?" I whisper to the window, to her, to the stranger wearing my face.
But she's already gone, leaving me alone with the wreckage and the growing certainty that Dr. Voss's integration therapy isn't healing me.
It's making something else stronger.
Latest Chapters
#30 Digital Prey
Last Updated: 09/19/2025 19:45#29 Voices in the Dark
Last Updated: 09/19/2025 19:45#28 When Minds Shatter
Last Updated: 09/19/2025 19:30#27 The Sister
Last Updated: 09/19/2025 19:25#26 The Network
Last Updated: 09/19/2025 19:25#25 The Awakening
Last Updated: 09/19/2025 19:25#24 The Integrated Consciousness
Last Updated: 09/19/2025 19:20#23 The Memory Transfer
Last Updated: 09/19/2025 19:20#22 The Ghost Facility
Last Updated: 09/19/2025 19:20#21 The Doctor's Origin
Last Updated: 09/19/2025 19:25
Comments
You Might Like 😍
Accardi
“I thought you said you were done chasing me?” Gen mocked.
“I am done chasing you.”
Before she could formulate a witty remark, Matteo threw her down. She landed hard on her back atop his dining room table. She tried to sit up when she noticed what he was doing. His hands were working on his belt. It came free of his pants with a violent yank. She collapsed back on her elbows, her mouth gaping open at the display. His face was a mask of sheer determination, his eyes were a dark gold swimming with heat and desire. His hands wrapped around her thighs and pulled her to the edge of the table. He glided his fingers up her thighs and hooked several around the inside of her panties. His knuckles brushed her dripping sex.
“You’re soaking wet, Genevieve. Tell me, was it me that made you this way or him?” his voice told her to be careful with her answer. His knuckles slid down through her folds and she threw her head back as she moaned. “Weakness?”
“You…” she breathed.
Genevieve loses a bet she can’t afford to pay. In a compromise, she agrees to convince any man her opponent chooses to go home with her that night. What she doesn’t realize when her sister’s friend points out the brooding man sitting alone at the bar, is that man won’t be okay with just one night with her. No, Matteo Accardi, Don of one of the largest gangs in New York City doesn’t do one night stands. Not with her anyway.
Falling for my boyfriend's Navy brother
"What is wrong with me?
Why does being near him make my skin feel too tight, like I’m wearing a sweater two sizes too small?
It’s just newness, I tell myself firmly.
He’s my boyfirend’s brother.
This is Tyler’s family.
I’m not going to let one cold stare undo that.
**
As a ballet dancer, My life looks perfect—scholarship, starring role, sweet boyfriend Tyler. Until Tyler shows his true colors and his older brother, Asher, comes home.
Asher is a Navy veteran with battle scars and zero patience. He calls me "princess" like it's an insult. I can't stand him.
When My ankle injury forces her to recover at the family lake house, I‘m stuck with both brothers. What starts as mutual hatred slowly turns into something forbidden.
I'm falling for my boyfriend's brother.
**
I hate girls like her.
Entitled.
Delicate.
And still—
Still.
The image of her standing in the doorway, clutching her cardigan tighter around her narrow shoulders, trying to smile through the awkwardness, won’t leave me.
Neither does the memory of Tyler. Leaving her here without a second thought.
I shouldn’t care.
I don’t care.
It’s not my problem if Tyler’s an idiot.
It’s not my business if some spoiled little princess has to walk home in the dark.
I’m not here to rescue anyone.
Especially not her.
Especially not someone like her.
She’s not my problem.
And I’ll make damn sure she never becomes one.
But when my eyes fell on her lips, I wanted her to be mine.
The War God Alpha's Arranged Bride
Yet Alexander made his decision clear to the world: “Evelyn is the only woman I will ever marry.”
Accidentally Yours
Lola Marlowe’s morning-after is a disaster. She’s got a killer hangover, zero memory of Burning Man, and a half-naked, sculpted stranger tied to her bed with her own lavender silk ropes. To make matters infinitely worse, the furious (and frustratingly handsome) “accidental hostage” is Enzo Marchesi, Vegas’s most notorious mafia Don.
For Enzo, this is the ultimate security breach. But the fiery, unpredictable tattoo artist is the most intriguing thing to happen to him in years. To stop his crew from “neutralizing” the threat, he makes an impulsive claim: she’s his fiancée.
Thrust into a world of high-stakes lies and feral attraction, they must navigate rival families and their own explosive chemistry.
One wrong move sparked it. Now neither of them wants out.
The Prison Project
Can love tame the untouchable? Or will it only fuel the fire and cause chaos amongst the inmates?
Fresh out of high school and suffocating in her dead-end hometown, Margot longs for her escape. Her reckless best friend, Cara, thinks she's found the perfect way out for them both - The Prisoner Project - a controversial program offering a life-changing sum of money in exchange for time spent with maximum-security inmates.
Without hesitation, Cara rushes to sign them up.
Their reward? A one-way ticket into the depths of a prison ruled by gang leaders, mob bosses, and men the guards wouldn't even dare to cross...
At the centre of it all, meets Coban Santorelli - a man colder than ice, darker than midnight, and as deadly as the fire that fuels his inner rage. He knows that the project may very well be his only ticket to freedom - his only ticket to revenge on the one who managed to lock him up and so he must prove that he can learn to love…
Will Margot be the lucky one chosen to help reform him?
Will Coban be capable of bringing something to the table other than just sex?
What starts off as denial may very well grow in to obsession which could then fester in to becoming true love…
A temperamental romance novel.
The Biker's Fate
I squeezed my eyes shut.
"Dani," he pressed. "Do you get me?"
"No, Austin, I don't," I admitted as I pulled my robe closed again and sat up. "You confuse me."
He dragged his hands down his face. "Tell me what's on your mind."
I sighed. "You're everything my parents warned me against. You're secretive, but you're also honest. I feel wholly protected by you, but then you scare me more than anyone I've ever known. You're a bad boy, but when I dated a so-called good one, he turned out to be the devil, so, yeah, I don't get you because you're not what I expected. You drive me crazier than anyone I've ever met, but then you make me feel complete. I'm feeling things I don't quite know how to process and that makes me want to run. I don't want to give up something that might be really, really good, but I also don't want to be stupid and fall for a boy just because he's super pretty and makes me come."
Danielle Harris is the daughter of an overprotective police chief and has led a sheltered life. As a kindergarten teacher, she's as far removed from the world of Harleys and bikers as you could get, but when she's rescued by the sexy and dangerous Austin Carver, her life is changed forever.
Although Austin 'Booker' Carver is enamored by the innocent Dani, he tries to keep the police chief's daughter at arm's length. But when a threat is made from an unexpected source, he finds himself falling hard and fast for the only woman who can tame his wild heart.
Will Booker be able to find the source of the threat before it's too late?
Will Dani finally give her heart to a man who's everything she's been warned about?
After One Night with the Alpha
I thought I was waiting for love. Instead, I got fucked by a beast.
My world was supposed to bloom at the Moonshade Bay Full Moon Festival—champagne buzzing in my veins, a hotel room booked for Jason and me to finally cross that line after two years. I’d slipped into lacy lingerie, left the door unlocked, and lay on the bed, heart pounding with nervous excitement.
But the man who climbed into my bed wasn’t Jason.
In the pitch-black room, drowned in a heady, spicy scent that made my head spin, I felt hands—urgent, scorching—searing my skin. His thick, pulsing cock pressed against my dripping cunt, and before I could gasp, he thrust hard, tearing through my innocence with ruthless force. Pain burned, my walls clenching as I clawed at his iron shoulders, stifling sobs. Wet, slick sounds echoed with every brutal stroke, his body unrelenting until he shuddered, spilling hot and deep inside me.
"That was amazing, Jason," I managed to say.
"Who the fuck is Jason?"
My blood turned to ice. Light slashed across his face—Brad Rayne, Alpha of Moonshade Pack, a werewolf, not my boyfriend. Horror choked me as I realized what I’d done.
I ran away for my life!
But weeks later, I woke up pregnant with his heir!
They say my heterochromatic eyes mark me as a rare true mate. But I’m no wolf. I’m just Elle, a nobody from the human district, now trapped in Brad's world.
Brad’s cold gaze pins me: “You carry my blood. You’re mine.”
There is no other choice for me but to chose this cage. My body also betrays me, craving the beast who ruined me.
WARNING: Mature Readers Only
Invisible To Her Bully
Goddess Of The Underworld.
When the veil between the Divine, the Living, and the Dead begins to crack, Envy is thrust beneath with a job she can’t drop: keep the worlds from bleeding together, shepherd the lost, and make ordinary into armor, breakfasts, bedtime, battle plans. Peace lasts exactly one lullaby. This is the story of a border pup who became a goddess by choosing her family; of four imperfect alphas learning how to stay; of cake, iron, and daylight negotiations. Steamy, fierce, and full of heart, Goddess of the Underworld is a reverse harem, found-family paranormal romance where love writes the rules and keeps three realms from falling apart.
From Substitute To Queen
Heartbroken, Sable discovered Darrell having sex with his ex in their bed, while secretly transferring hundreds of thousands to support that woman.
Even worse was overhearing Darrell laugh to his friends: "She's useful—obedient, doesn't cause trouble, handles housework, and I can fuck her whenever I need relief. She's basically a live-in maid with benefits." He made crude thrusting gestures, sending his friends into laughter.
In despair, Sable left, reclaimed her true identity, and married her childhood neighbor—Lycan King Caelan, nine years her senior and her fated mate. Now Darrell desperately tries to win her back. How will her revenge unfold?
From substitute to queen—her revenge has just begun!
Crossing Lines
Noah
I was here to prove myself—
One last shot at football, at freedom, at a future no one ever thought I’d deserve.
And then I met him.
Coach Aiden Mercer.
Cold. Demanding. Built like a legend and twice as ruthless.
From the first command, I wanted to fight him.
From the first Sir, I wanted to kneel.
But this wasn’t just about the game anymore.
He looked at me like he saw through every mask I wore…
And spoke to me in a voice I knew far too well.
The same one that called me baby boy in the darkest corners of the internet.
Now I didn’t know if I wanted to win…
Or just be his.
Aiden
Noah Blake was supposed to be a challenge.
A cocky, reckless quarterback with raw talent and no discipline.
But one message had changed everything.
One night on ObeyNet, a stranger with attitude and submission tangled in his words.
And when I saw Noah in person—his fire, his fear, that ache to be seen—
I knew it was him.
He didn’t know who I was. Not yet.
But I was already testing him. Pushing him.
Breaking him down until he begged for what he swore he didn’t need.
This was not supposed to get personal, but every second he disobeyed made me want to claim him harder.
And if he crossed the line…
I’d make damn sure he never forgot who he belonged to.
The Delta's Daughter
Born on the same night as the Kings son, Prince Kellen; Lamia Langley, daughter to the Royal Delta of The New Moon pack (royal pack) bares the mark of a royal and is a seemingly ordinary wolf, until she shifts at the age of 14 and by 15 becomes one of the strongest wolfs in the kingdom.
All Lamia ever wanted was to serve her prince, become a warrior, find her mate at 18 and live happily ever after.
Growing up together and sharing a rare and special goddess given bond, everyone is sure Lamia and Prince Kellen will be fated mates. Being given the opportunity to go to the Alpha academy, Kellen and Lamia fall in love and they hope they are fated like everyone thinks.
But the fates have already mapped out her future.
What happens when a wolf from the Kings past has his eye on Lamia?
Follow this epic tale of Love, tragedy and betrayal as Lamia starts to discover her family heritage. Will her family’s forgotten heritage and secrets become more than she can handle?
Will her Prince become her mate or will she be fated to another?
Will Lamia rise to become the wolf the goddess’ fated her to be?
For a mature audience
About Author

bright olamilo
Download AnyStories App to discover more Fantasy Stories.













