Alexis
15 Published Stories
Alexis's Books and Stories
Forsaken by the Pack, Claimed by the Alpha
Werewolf For three years, I have not known true sleep.
As an Omega, my only purpose was to be the Soul Tether for our comatose Alpha. A blood rune carved into my spine kept his soul anchored to the living world. If I fell into deep slumber, he would die.
But the pack's future Luna, Selene, despised me. Wielding her father's political influence, she breached my warded sanctuary, claiming I was a fraud draining the pack's wealth with a fake magical bond.
While my healers were dragged away by her personal guards, she forced deadly Wolfsbane poison down my throat.
"Dig out the root of that ugly scar," she commanded the surgeon.
As my body violently shut down from the poison, they carved the magical rune right out of my neck with a burning silver scalpel.
I screamed as the silver melted my flesh. The pack warriors just watched, mocking the absurd idea that a lowly Omega could hold an Alpha's life.
They didn't care that I had sacrificed my sanity and endured endless exhaustion for him. As the brutal extraction snapped our tether, the agonizing wail of the Alpha's dying soul echoed through the medical tower.
I fell into a freezing darkness, certain we were both dead.
But when I finally opened my eyes days later, I wasn't in the afterlife.
The Alpha had awakened, his god-like golden soul projecting over my bed. And he had just sentenced Selene's entire bloodline to death for touching me.
The reckoning had begun. My Blind Eyes Saw Everything
Modern For a year, after sacrificing my sight to save my husband, Evander, I lived in darkness, clinging to his promise to be my eyes. What he didn't know was that my vision had quietly returned. I was eager to surprise him with this miracle, but the surprise would be all mine.
Entering our silent Park Avenue penthouse, a cloying perfume and muffled giggle led me to Evander, entwined with his executive secretary, Katia, on our Fendi sofa. Her triumphant, cruel gaze met mine. Evander, dismissing my arrival, let Katia order me to fetch her "aspirin"—a veiled request for condoms. My love turned to ash as I obeyed, delivering the box. He patted my head, calling me his "good girl."
My world vaporized. Betrayed, I was an invisible, manipulated pawn. My vision, a secret weapon, now saw everything with chilling clarity. Retreating, my hands, steady with purpose, sent an encrypted message: "I'm ready. I can come back anytime." The reply: "Waiting." The gilded cage opened; I was stepping out. Dying In Silence: The Unwanted Heiress
Modern Kaia was diagnosed with late-stage bone cancer, with only three months left to live.
She wanted to give up her family's entire trust fund just to have Gerrit play the role of a loving husband for her final days.
But before she could show him the biopsy report, he looked at her with absolute disgust, declaring that their three-year marriage made him physically sick.
He only loved Seraphina.
To force Kaia out, Seraphina constantly framed her. When Seraphina faked a fall, Gerrit pushed Kaia so hard she tore her waist open on a glass table.
When Kaia writhed in agonizing pain from her failing organs, he stood over her coldly, mocking her pathetic acting.
Even when Gerrit finally discovered Seraphina had hired a fake stalker and maliciously burned Kaia's skin with boiling tea, he still chose to protect his mistress.
"I already signed the divorce papers with Kaia. We are going to bury this story temporarily to protect the company."
Hearing those words from behind the wall, the last shred of hope in Kaia's chest completely died.
She had endured his cruelty for three years, only to realize his bias for another woman defied all logic and morality.
Lying in the bathtub, coughing up mouthfuls of dark blood that turned the water crimson, Kaia picked up her phone and dialed her lawyer.
"Julian, initiate the final plan."
Since Gerrit despised her existence, she would make sure he never found her body. Three Months Gone, Everything Changed
Modern Elena Vance comes home from a three-month assignment in Berlin to find the locks unchanged but her entire life replaced. The Queen Anne townhouse she bought with her own savings now smells of baby powder and another woman's vanilla perfume. In her guest room, a stranger named Misty rocks a newborn wrapped in a blanket Elena's grandmother crocheted.
"They said you were divorced," Misty whispers, genuinely bewildered. "Nathan told me this was our home now."
Nathan—the husband who encouraged Elena to take the European project. The man who swore he'd "hold down the fort." While she was sleeping in Berlin hotel rooms and closing multimillion-dollar deals, he was moving his pregnant mistress into the house she paid for, filing fraudulent paperwork to add Misty's name to the deed, and draining their joint accounts to fund his secret family.
But Nathan has made a catastrophic miscalculation. He expects tears, hysterics, a wife too shattered to fight back. Instead, Elena checks into a hotel, hires a forensic accountant, and starts recording every conversation. She doesn't want revenge—she wants a reckoning. In front of his entire family.
And when the paternity test comes back, revealing a truth even Nathan didn't see coming, Elena is already gone. She's building a new life with a venture capitalist who actually deserves her. Nathan is left with nothing but a basement apartment, a ruined reputation, and the slow, excruciating realization that he destroyed the only real thing he ever had.
Now he's the one watching her through a rain-streaked window, knowing she'll never look back. The Billionaire's Stolen Angel: A Painful Return
Modern I was on my knees in the Ohio dirt, frantically scooping wet coffee grounds back into a torn trash bag while my foster mother screamed that I was a useless waste of space.
Then, ten black Escalades rolled into our rotting trailer park like a funeral procession, and a woman in silk fell to the mud, sobbing that she had finally found her "Elara."
I was whisked away to a mansion that looked like a castle, but the nightmare didn't end with a warm bed and sterilized air.
My brother Harlen looked at me with pure disgust, and when he slapped a chicken leg out of my hand at our first dinner, I instinctively dove under the table to eat it off the rug, begging for mercy through my tears.
My billionaire father, Arthur, watched in silent agony as I tried to wash my own rags in a gold-plated sink at dawn, terrified that I would be starved if I didn't "earn my keep."
He promised me a thousand silk dresses and ordered the trailer park bulldozed to the ground, but I still felt like a prey animal caught by very large, very sad predators.
The trauma wasn't a smudge I could wash off; it was a map of cigarette burns and bruises that I was desperate to hide from the family that had spent millions searching for me.
Just as I thought I might be safe, a black helicopter banked over the lawn, carrying a medical team and a cold order from my oldest brother, the "Shark" of New York.
"No one is ever taking you away," my father growled, shielding me from the men in white coats.
But as the rotors shook the windows, I realized that being found was only the beginning of a different kind of war within the Bridges empire. Scars of Betrayal, Sisters' New Power
Modern My unborn child died because my husband ignored my desperate pleas. He chose to prioritize a staged emergency from his manipulative adopted sister, Holly, leaving me and my own sister to be brutally attacked by thugs.
As I bled out on the street, my sister, Jayde, finally got him on the phone. We heard his voice, calm and soothing, telling Holly everything was fine. When Jayde screamed that I was having a miscarriage, he accused us of being dramatic.
"This is exactly what Holly warned us about," he said coldly, before hanging up.
In the hospital, the doctors confirmed the worst. My baby was gone, and I could never have another. Jayde's hands, the hands of a brilliant concert pianist, were permanently crippled. Our husbands, the men who were supposed to protect us, had abandoned us for a lie.
But as I stared at Jayde' s ruined hands and felt the crushing emptiness in my own body, a cold resolve solidified within me. They thought they had broken us. They had only forged us into something far more dangerous. Contract Marriage With Disabled Billionaire
Romance The anesthetic was a thick fog, but the ache in my side was sharp and real. I' d just given away a kidney for Alex, the man I loved, my terminally ill boyfriend. I' d do anything for him.
But then, I overheard Alex' s best friend, Mark, say, "I can't believe she actually did it. You told her you were dying, and she just rolled up her sleeve and gave you a kidney. She's so naive." My comfort turned to dread when Alex' s cold voice scoffed, "She's always been easy to fool. A few pretty words, a couple of sad stories about my 'art', and she'd do anything for me."
The fog cleared, replaced by a chilling truth. "Everything is for Chloe," Alex declared, confirming he never loved me. Our three years were a lie, a scheme for revenge. He, the heir to Peterson Tech, had posed as a struggling artist while I worked double shifts. The deepest cut came when he casually said he didn't need my kidney and might just dispose of it. "It's kind of funny, isn't it? She gave me a part of her body, and it's completely worthless to me." They both laughed.
My sacrifice, my love, my very body-all worthless. I was a tool for his revenge, all for Chloe, my adoptive sister, the golden child my parents adored while burying my own identity as the true heiress of Miller Tech.
Betrayal, pain, and lies suffocated me, but in the wreckage of my heart, a cold, hard resolve began to form. They thought I was naive, easy to fool, worthless. They were wrong. I wouldn't let them destroy me. I would take back everything that was mine. There was an old, forgotten arrangement-a marriage my parents had tried to set for Chloe with a reclusive, paralyzed tech billionaire named Ethan Cole. They were terrified of sending Chloe to a man in a wheelchair. They would send me instead. And I would go-on my own terms. The Art of Vengeance
Romance The first thing I felt was pain-a searing acid burning my face-as voices outside my hospital room whispered low and urgent.
My eyes were bandaged, but I knew the sterile scent of a private ward. This was Noah' s doing, my brilliant tech mogul fiancé, who' d promised me the world. We were the perfect couple, splashed across magazines, set to marry in a week.
Then, a woman, twisted with adoration for Noah, threw acid at me. The police called it a jealous fan. My world dissolved into agony and darkness. I lay in that expensive bed, hopeful when I heard Liam, Noah' s manager, and Noah himself, my Noah, just outside. My heart fluttered. He was here for me.
But then, Liam spoke, low and clear: "The wedding is next week, Noah. You can't marry her like this." A cold dread replaced the burning on my face. Noah' s voice, flat and devoid of warmth, sliced through any hope: "I'm not going to marry her." The words blurred until he continued, "More severe than I anticipated." He meant the acid.
My breathing stopped. He had anticipated it? Liam' s choked whisper confirmed my terror: "You didn't…" "Of course I did," Noah snapped. "That crazy fan? I've had her on a private payroll for months... I just needed something to take Ava out of the public eye permanently. Something that would make her so broken, so grateful for my care, that she' d agree to anything."
The world tilted. He wanted me disfigured, dependent, hidden away, his tragic reclusive artist, so he could be free to marry Chloe and bring their son, Ethan, "into the light." Every loving word, every tender touch, was a lie. He didn' t just leave me; he orchestrated my ruin to build his perfect life. The physical pain was nothing compared to the absolute shatter of my soul.
But in that wreckage, a cold, hard rage bloomed. He thought he buried Ava. He just created a monster. And I wouldn't stop until he regretted every single thing he had done. The Angel Who Burned: A Small Town's Inferno
Modern Sarah Miller was the epitome of small-town success: valedictorian, destined for a full scholarship at State University, a beacon of hope.
Everyone in our tight-knit community called her an angel, a ray of sunshine, always with a bright smile.
Just hours after delivering a graduation speech full of dreams, she was supposed to be celebrating with friends and family.
But as the community hall burned, its roof collapsing in a fiery roar, Sarah stood across the street, motionless, her face illuminated by the inferno.
The smell of burning wood, and something else, something sickening, filled the air, as sparks flew like angry fireflies.
When Officer Kowski grabbed her arm, she showed no fear, only an unsettling calm, soot smeared on her hands.
Then, she whispered the chilling words: "They all deserved to die."
Her parents, reeling from disbelief, watched their daughter admit to mass murder, their tears mingling with raw, ragged pain.
The town, still mourning their "heroes"-Pastor David, Mr. Henderson-couldn't reconcile the angelic Sarah with the monster she confessed to being.
Her subsequent suicide attempt in her cell only deepened the mystery, pills traced back to Henderson's private stash.
The discovery of burned journal fragments suggested hidden truths, a desperate, unspoken anguish.
What unspeakable evil could turn a scholarship-bound valedictorian into a mass murderer?
How could the very men lauded as benefactors, who "loved her like their own daughter," inspire such cold, vengeful fire?
The town saw kindness and support, but Sarah' s hollow whisper of "Care?" hinted at an unimaginable betrayal.
What dark secret did this 'angel' carry, hidden beneath years of forced smiles and perfect grades?
Then, Sarah finally shattered the silence, not with tears, but with a guttural scream: "They deserved it! They all deserved it!"
And the terrifying, heartbreaking story, a torrent of buried pain, began to pour out, revealing the true horrors lurking beneath their idyllic small town. A Daughter's Defense: They Were Heroes
Young Adult My deskmate, Elara Vance, was a walking contradiction: weaving grand tales of designer clothes and exotic family trips to Zurich, yet she dressed in rags and carried the undeniable scent of neglect.
I' d silently endured her outlandish fantasies and the awkward pity they stirred, until one tension-filled day, my patience completely snapped, and I brutally screamed across the crowded school hallway, "What is it, Elara? Are your parents dead or something?"
The raw grief that instantly crumpled her face, followed by the shock of her fist connecting with my jaw, silenced the entire room, but the real storm was yet to come.
Weeks later, news tore through our high school: Elara Vance, the girl everyone mocked, had mysteriously secured a full-ride scholarship to Yale, a feat that struck everyone, especially the popular clique, as utterly impossible.
The internet exploded, fueled by vicious social media posts from school bullies, rapidly branding her a "Yale Scammer" and launching a horrifying campaign of doxxing and vile harassment that escalated far beyond high school cruelty, becoming a public digital execution.
But as the online mob screamed for her digital demise, I was haunted by the memory of her tear-streaked face and that primal, anguished cry that day in the hallway: "They're heroes!"
That desperate, defiant plea didn't fit the narrative of the pathetic liar I believed her to be, leaving me with a chilling, unsettling confusion.
A sickening wave of guilt began to consume me, the realization hitting hard that I had played a part in unleashing this brutal, unprovoked attack on her.
I knew then, with a desperate urgency that superseded everything else, that I had to find Elara Vance and finally unearth the true, devastating story behind her lies and the mysterious heroism of her parents. My Life, A Perfect Scam
Romance My life as a rising star in software development was predictable, good.
Then the Affinity Gauge appeared, numbers hovering above everyone's heads, revealing their true feelings for me.
My college sweetheart, Chloe, charming and affectionate, always told me how much she leaned on me, especially after her wealthy adopted family found their biological daughter.
I poured thousands into "her foster mother's medical bills" and "her childhood friend's 'vocational' tuition," believing it was all for our future, our marriage.
Despite my love, her Affinity Gauge stubbornly read a stark, unbelievable 0.
I told myself it was a glitch, until I overheard her in a cafe.
"That five thousand Ethan gave me barely covered Mrs. Gable's retainer for the month's act!" she'd hissed.
Her friend, Liam, added, "We need to push for the big one, the six-figure investment, then you dump him."
My world tilted, the 0 above her head blazing into terrifying clarity.
The woman I loved, the future I envisioned, was a meticulously crafted lie.
I watched them, Liam flashing designer everything, Chloe playing the innocent victim, their intimacy undeniable.
Their demands escalated, a fabricated medical emergency the final straw.
My affection curdled into a cold, grim resolve.
How could I have been so blind, so stupid?
The betrayal cut deep, but the Gauge had been right all along, a cruel, undeniable truth.
The sheer audacity of their fraud, the hundreds of thousands they'd robbed from me, demanded justice.
I wouldn't be their fool any longer.
I began to dismantle their carefully constructed reality, piece by piece, starting with a call to a private investigator.
This wasn't just about reclaiming my money; it was about exposing every single lie and making sure they paid for every cent of their deceit. No More Mr. Nice Chef
Billionaires My name is Ethan Miller. I put my culinary dreams on hold, carefully crafting gourmet meals for my wife, Izzy, CEO of Aura Organics. My "VP of Culinary Development" title at her company was mostly for show; my real role was to support her vision, a sacrifice I made willingly, fueled by love.
One ordinary morning, after painstakingly preparing her lunch, my phone buzzed with an Instagram notification. It was Leo Maxwell, Izzy' s flashy new executive assistant, posting a photo of my lovingly packed meal, captioned, "The perks of working for a queen!" Seconds later, Izzy posted a picture of a greasy pepperoni pizza. "Sometimes a girl just needs some comfort food," she quipped.
The cold knot in my stomach tightened into a furious rage. Not only had she given away my carefully made meal, but she preferred cheap junk and flaunted it. My mother-in-law, Eleanor, then called, not to question Izzy, but to berate me for not feeding her properly. When I confronted my wife, she brazenly defended Leo, even as he strutted around wearing an expensive smartwatch she' d bought him as a "perk" - a reward for a "tough day" after I had quite deliberately ruined his shoes. It reached a breaking point when, in a fit of rage, she systematically chipped my cherished collection of culinary knives, the very tools of my passion, all while screaming that I preferred "flipping burgers for her."
How could she be so incredibly disrespectful, so blind to my efforts and my pain? What unholy betrayal had taken root in our home, turning my wife into someone so cruel, so dismissive of our shared history and my dreams? Standing there, watching her destroy symbols of our life together, a sudden, sharp decision crystallized in my mind. She wanted comfort food? She wanted to choose a sycophant over her husband? Then she would get an unforgettable taste of consequences. I was done. Married to the Man Who Killed Me
Modern My empire crumbled, my life, cold ash. Olivia was gone. In their derelict New York apartment, a sealed box yielded her unseen journals.
I opened one. Inside: a meticulous record of my casual cruelty—my blatant affairs, sneering dismissals, every humiliation. Then, the chilling truth: her hidden terminal leukemia diagnosis. This wasn't just a dying marriage; it was the torturous last act of a woman suffering alone, beneath my roof.
Each page, a fresh wound. I recalled her "Legacy Tour"—five desperate tasks I'd scorned, obsessed with my freedom. I remembered mocking her headscarf, tossing her "filthy" wig, blind to her ravaging illness. My neglect hadn't just buried her hope; it brutally hastened her death.
How could I have been so blind? So monstrously cruel? The wife I reviled was secretly ArchX, the preservationist I unknowingly battled, and a brilliant artist. She loved me, inexplicably, as I extinguished her light.
Her final, faint question from the grave haunted me: "Will he… ever… regret?" Yes, Olivia. I regret. And I will dismantle the world that made me this monster, beginning my terrifying penance, even if it means sacrificing everything. The Day I Died and Lived Again
Modern Ava Rodriguez clawed for breath, her chest a suffocating vise.
Her six-year-old, Leo, watched, his face pale with terror.
Anaphylactic shock.
Rapidly worsening.
She choked out her husband Mark's name, begging him to call 911.
“Mommy can't breathe!" Leo cried into the phone.
But Mark, busy "networking" with his mistress Chloe, dismissed it casually as a "panic attack."
Minutes later, he called back: the ambulance he'd supposedly called for Ava was now diverted to Chloe, who had only "tripped" and twisted her ankle.
Ava’s world fractured.
Leo, a hero in his small heart, raced out for help, only to be hit by a car.
A sickening thud.
She watched, a ghost in her own tragedy, as paramedics covered his small, broken body.
Her son was gone, because Mark chose Chloe.
Devastation.
Horror.
Guilt.
The image of Leo haunted her, a searing brand.
How could a father, a husband, be so monstrously selfish?
A bitter, consuming regret clawed at her soul.
Chloe. Always Chloe.
Then, Ava’s eyes snapped open.
She was on her living room floor.
Leo, alive and well, ran in.
It was a terrifying, impossible second chance.
That catastrophic future would not happen.
She would reclaim her life, protect her son, and make them pay. Revenge Bound on My Father
Horror Here’s the translation of the text into English:
When I was fifteen, getting married no longer required a birth certificate. My dad was overjoyed and decisively poisoned my mom. On the day of my mother's funeral, my dad brought home his new wife, whom he had just married. She had red lips and white teeth, stunningly beautiful, a wealthy girl from the city. That night, my dad generously gave me a piece of meat.
"Er Niu, from now on, she will be your new mom."
"Take good care of her. If she tries to run away, come tell Dad."
"For every time you report her, I'll let you have meat once."
I swallowed hard and obediently nodded. Later, I pushed my dad to the ground, leaving him in a sorry state. I looked down at him, holding a knife in my hand, and smiled.
"Dad, I won't make the same mistake again."
"This time, it's either you or me." You might like
Moon-Born Outcast: The Alpha's Broken Mate
Ghostly Mode Fear follows Alpha Samson wherever he goes. As the ruthless leader of the Blackthorn pack, he and his beast, Savage, bow to no one. But when a haunting scent leads him to a neighboring pack's dungeon, he finds his fated mate-bloody, broken, and chained to the wall.
Alora is a half-wolf, half-witch hybrid falsely accused and left to die. But her abusers made one fatal mistake: they touched the mate of a monster.
Rescued by the fierce Alpha, Alora begins a journey of healing that uncovers a lifetime of lies. She isn't just a survivor; she's a weapon. Together, Samson and Alora will unleash hell on those who wronged her, unearthing dark family secrets and claiming the crown that was stolen from her birth. His Defiant Mate: The Lycan King's Chosen Luna
MAINUMBY I was waiting at the Registry Hall to formalize my mate bond with Gabe, my childhood sweetheart and the Alpha of our pack.
He was thirty-two minutes late.
When I finally found him in a private VIP lounge, his hands were buried in my cousin's hair, their lips locked together.
Hailee was supposed to be my maid of honor.
Instead of apologizing, Gabe looked me dead in the eye and used his Alpha authority to publicly reject me.
The severing of our ten-year bond tore my soul apart, but the nightmare didn't stop there.
My grandfather immediately called, demanding I clean up a mess Hailee had made.
When I refused, he disowned me on the spot, froze every single one of my bank accounts, and stripped me of my family name.
Within hours, my entire pack erased my existence, gleefully announcing Hailee as their new Luna.
I had given my entire life to a family and a man who discarded me like worthless trash the second I became inconvenient.
I was left broken, humiliated, and utterly penniless in the blink of an eye.
But as I stumbled out of that sterile hall, a terrifyingly beautiful stranger stepped out of the shadows, radiating a primal power that made my knees weak.
He was Caden Sinclair, the ruthless Lycan King, and he was dodging a forced political union of his own.
"You need a shield. I need a wife. Marry me."
Without hesitation, I signed the Eternal Vow. The Alpha's Discarded Luna
Velvet Piston I was three months pregnant when the car hit me.
Lying there, barely hanging on, I called my husband-Alpha Ethan-over and over. No answer. When I finally woke up from the pain, I saw a post from his first love, Ivy. "Thank you, Alpha, for knowing how scared I am of the dark and staying with me all night. He even cleared his whole schedule today to take me to the auction, just to give me the best gift in the world. I'm so happy!"
Right then, it hit me. While I was fighting to protect our child, he was with another she-wolf. I calmly liked her post and put my phone away.
Since he chose his first love, I chose to let go.
Seven days from now, I'd leave his world for good-with our child. Alpha's Regret: The Hybrid's Royal Contract
Lila For years, Elara Park endured being called "half-breed" and "weak blood" at pack meetings. Because she was a hybrid wolf, she trusted Zack Blackwood's sweet promises.
Then he rejected their fated mate bond moments after claiming her body.
Before she could even breathe through the soul-crushing agony, the news was already celebrating his engagement to her vindictive stepsister, Selina. The headlines gushed about their "perfect pureblooded union."
Her mother's call came like a final blow: "Elara, you're twenty-three now. It's time you contributed to the family."
Marry the worthless second son of a prominent Alpha family or lose her father's empire forever. They had her trapped, ready to steal her birthright and leave her powerless.
But as the heartbreak bled out, ice-cold determination took its place.
Elara went to the arranged meeting at the city's most exclusive club, determined to turn her mother's matchmaking scheme to her advantage. She would agree to marriage-but on her own terms.
When she found who she believed was Damian Sterling in the private suite, she cut straight to business: a contract marriage with clear boundaries, separate lives, and a guaranteed escape route.
What she didn't know? The devastatingly dangerous man who'd just signed her contract with a predator's smile wasn't the pathetic playboy she expected.
He was Dominic Wolfe-the Alpha King who'd been relentlessly hunting her for years.
And now, she'd just signed herself over to him completely. From Wolfless Omega To The Rival Alpha's Queen
Jun Shangye For three years, I poured my blood, sweat, and tears into building Blackwood Group for Alec, my Alpha and the man I thought was my mate.
But on the day of our work anniversary, I stood outside his office door and heard him talking with his Beta, shattering my entire world.
"Kay is just a wolfless Omega, useful for paperwork," Alec sneered coldly.
"The bonding ceremony is just a show for the elders. The real Luna, the one who carries the bloodline that matters, is Breanne. I'm transferring all of Kay's core project files to Breanne tomorrow. Let her take the credit."
He even texted me later, telling me to wear a blue dress to the upcoming gala because it made me look "obedient."
I had turned down a Wharton scholarship for this man. I had spent countless nights fixing his mistakes, building his empire, and giving him my youth.
Yet to him, I was nothing but a disposable placeholder, expected to smile and bow while another woman stole my life's work and my place by his side.
The agonizing pain in my chest didn't break me; it forged me into ice.
I didn't cry, and I certainly didn't beg.
Instead, I wiped his servers clean of every strategy I had ever created, left a wax-sealed resignation on his desk, and accepted a job offer from his most ruthless rival. The Alpha King's Defiant Hidden Princess
Xiao Song Shu I died once before, framed for a murder that never happened.
I am Princess Fiona Avery of the Blackwood Pack, forced by my father into a political union with Bowen Mayer, heir to a powerful house. In my first life, my husband's mistress faked a pregnancy, accused me of pushing her into a lake, and watched as I was condemned as a murderer. I spent my final days in a mental ward, broken and drugged, until a lethal injection silenced me forever.
But the dead don't always stay dead.
I opened my eyes on the very day it all went wrong. My tea was still laced with sedative. My husband's footsteps were already pounding down the hall. His weeping mistress was ready to play her part.
This time, I don't beg. I don't cry. I don't kneel.
I summon the ruthless Gamma of the royal Shadow Guard. I demand the pack doctor examine his precious lover-right here, in front of everyone. I stake my life on a wager I know I cannot lose.
They think I'm still the weak, wolfless princess they once destroyed.
They have no idea what I've become. The Heir He Denied
zibya "I reject you," Alpha Damon sneered, looking down at the shivering Omega. "I need a Queen, not a servant."
Aria bowed her head and accepted her fate, but she took a secret with her when she fled into the night: the Alpha's heir growing in her womb.
Five years later, Aria returns to the city, no longer the weak girl who scrubbed floors. She is powerful, wealthy, and stunning. She thought she could hide from her past, but fate has a cruel sense of humor. Her new business partner is none other than Alpha Damon.
When Damon sees her, he realizes the mistake he made. He wants his mate back. But then he sees the little boy with his same grey eyes hiding behind her legs.
"Who is the child, Aria?" Damon growls, his possessiveness flaring.
Aria smiles coldly. "Someone you rejected." That Prince Is A Girl: The Vicious King's Captive Slave Mate.
Kiss Leilani They don't know I'm a girl.
They all look at me and see a boy. A prince.
Their kind purchase humans like me for their lustful desires.
And, when they stormed into our kingdom to buy my sister, I intervened to protect her. I made them take me too.
The plan was to escape with my sister whenever we found a chance.
How was I to know our prison would be the most fortified place in their kingdom?
I was supposed to be on the sidelines. The one they had no real use for. The one they never meant to buy.
But then, the most important person in their savage land-their ruthless beast king-took an interest in the "pretty little prince."
How do we survive in this brutal kingdom, where everyone hates our kind and shows us no mercy?
And how does someone, with a secret like mine, become a lust slave?
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AUTHOR'S NOTE.
This is a dark romance-dark, mature content. Highly rated 18+
Expect triggers, expect hardcore.
If you're a seasoned reader of this genre, looking for something different, prepared to go in blindly not knowing what to expect at every turn, but eager to know more anyway, then dive in!
.
From the author of the international bestselling book: "The Alpha King's Hated Slave." The Rise Of The Ugly Luna
Syra Tucker Lyric had spent her life being hated. Bullied for her scarred face and hated by everyone-including her own mate-she was always told she was ugly. Her mate only kept her around to gain territory, and the moment he got what he wanted, he rejected her, leaving her broken and alone.
Then, she met him. The first man to call her beautiful. The first man to show her what it felt like to be loved.
It was only one night, but it changed everything. For Lyric, he was a saint, a savior. For him, she was the only woman that had ever made him cum in bed-a problem he had been battling for years.
Lyric thought her life would finally be different, but like everyone else in her life, he lied. And when she found out who he really was, she realized he wasn't just dangerous-he was the kind of man you don't escape from.
Lyric wanted to run. She wanted freedom. But she desired to navigate her way and take back her respect, to rise above the ashes.
Eventually, she was forced into a dark world she didn't wish to get involved with. 
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