Da Lanlan
19 Published Stories
Da Lanlan's Books and Stories
Forsaken by the Pack, Mated to the Secret Lycan King
Werewolf For two years, I was Alpha Jase Davenport's loyal assistant and secret bed-warmer. Because I was a wolfless Omega, I trusted his empty promises instead of instincts I didn't possess.
Then, a push notification from a notorious gossip blog shattered my world.
Jase was pictured in Paris, his hand intimately resting on the waist of my cruel stepsister, Kira. The headline screamed that he was finally claiming his fated Luna.
Before I could even process the betrayal, Jase texted me a cold command to update his schedule, treating me like a soulless employee.
Immediately after, my mother called to gloat.
"Did you honestly believe an Alpha like Jase would settle for a defective creature like you?"
She threatened to freeze my late father's Pack trust fund unless I agreed to marry an abusive, elderly Alpha to be his breeding mare. If I refused, I would be cast out as a penniless stray, easy prey for any Rogue.
I was nothing but a convenient placeholder to Jase, and a piece of livestock to my own family. They thought they had me completely cornered, ready to steal my inheritance and leave me to die.
But as the panic subsided, a cold clarity took its place. My father's will only required a legal mating bond to unlock my millions; it never said my family had to approve of the groom.
I wiped my tears, opened my laptop, and searched for a disgraced, debt-ridden Rogue named Babe Vincent.
If I needed a husband on paper to secure my freedom, I was going to buy one. The Alpha's Regret: Claiming His Discarded True Mate
Werewolf I was an Omega with the sacred face of the Moon Goddess, betrothed to Alpha Prince Rowan to unite our ancient bloodlines.
But on my coming-of-age night, he spiked my wine with a heat-inducing poison and gifted me to a Beta Judge named Silas.
He did it just to prove a cruel point and steal Silas's lover, Selene.
Ruined and discarded, I was forced into Silas's estate.
When Selene jealously pushed me into a pool of burning silver, Silas cowardly let her take my only healing medicine.
Worse, to protect Selene's crimes from the royal court, Silas framed my innocent brother and threw him in the underground dungeon.
I was left covered in agonizing burns, my family destroyed, while these men traded our lives like cheap currency.
When Rowan finally realized I was his true Fated Mate, he didn't apologize for the torture he put me through.
Instead, he used my brother's execution warrant to force me back into his royal cage.
"I do not care if history remembers me as a tyrant, I care only that you are mine."
So, I smiled and played the perfect, broken Luna.
But in the shadows, I slipped a cursed, treasonous blade into his private safe.
I was going to strip the Alpha of his crown and leave this wretched pack forever. Divorcing The Cold Heir: Watch Me Rise
Modern Elena Bailey’s marriage to billionaire heir Barrett Harding had never been a love story.
It was a cold arrangement wrapped in diamonds, a beautiful ceremony with no marriage inside it.
After months abroad, Barrett returned to New York with a lavish yacht party, champagne, cameras, and socialites hanging on his arm. Everyone knew the Harding heir was back.
Everyone except his wife.
When Barrett finally came home, he treated Elena like an unwanted inconvenience. At a formal family dinner, he humiliated her in front of his parents, and they watched with cold approval, as if his wife were worth less than the servants who whispered about her behind her back.
Then, later that night, he pulled over beside a dark highway exit, unclipped her seatbelt, and ordered her out of his car so he could go meet another woman.
That was when Elena finally stopped begging for a marriage that had never existed.
But one question refused to leave her alone.
If the Hardings despised her so much, why had they insisted Barrett marry her in the first place?
When Elena confronted her mother-in-law, the always-composed Eleanor Harding finally cracked.
“Name your price, Elena. How much will it take for you to sign the NDA and disappear quietly?”
Then Eleanor pushed an eight-figure check across the table.
Elena looked at the money and understood the truth.
She had never been the lucky orphan who married into power. She had been chosen. Used. Buried inside a secret rotten enough to terrify one of New York’s most untouchable families.
So Elena walked away from the money, ordered her lawyer to serve the divorce papers, and made herself a promise.
She would uncover the truth.
And when she was done, the Harding empire would burn. The Fake Wife's Spectacular Genius Comeback
Romance For five years, Chloe's only goal was to build a family with her billionaire husband, Julian.
But at the fertility clinic, a nurse accidentally handed her the wrong clipboard.
The pregnant patient's name was Isabelle, and the emergency contact was Julian Sterling, complete with his unmistakable signature.
Tracking his car to a private club, Chloe peered through a cracked door and saw Julian lounging with a pregnant woman.
"Don't worry about Chloe," Julian laughed to his friends. "That fake marriage certificate is all it takes to keep her happy. She's just a free, live-in caretaker."
A trip to the city archives confirmed the brutal truth: there was no record of their wedding. She was legally single.
Her entire life was a carefully constructed fraud. The billion-dollar company she helped build with her genius patents was entirely in his name.
He even moved the pregnant mistress into their penthouse, claiming she had a stalker.
Worse, Chloe found hidden Ambien pills in his nightstand. He had been secretly drugging her every night just so he could sneak into the guest room to sleep with Isabelle.
Five years of absolute devotion, rewarded with a fake marriage, stolen life's work, and chemical assault.
How could the man she loved be such a calculating monster?
Sitting in the dark, the last ember of her love turned to ash.
Chloe wiped her tears, transferred her assets, and put on her sharpest power suit.
She wasn't going to just leave; she was going to tear his empire to the ground. Divorced By The Billionaire: Watch Me Shine
Modern For three years, Aria Beaumont lived as a ghost, sacrificing her identity as a bestselling author to be the secret wife of billionaire Julian Vanderbilt.
On their third anniversary, instead of a celebration, Julian handed her a cold, legal document.
"I want to end our marriage. I am in love with someone else."
He was leaving her for Isabelle Vance, Hollywood's reigning sweetheart. Aria didn't beg or cry. She signed the divorce papers, threw her platinum wedding band into a koi pond, and walked away to rebuild her life.
But her quiet surrender wasn't enough for the new couple. Isabelle orchestrated a paparazzi ambush, lured Aria to a secluded resort under the guise of a peace offering, and drugged her tea.
As the heavy sedative pulled Aria under, Isabelle smiled and let two hired thugs into the room. She planned to film a sordid, drug-fueled assault to utterly destroy Aria's reputation and frame her as an unstable ex-wife.
Fighting through the haze, Aria slashed her way out with a shard of broken glass and barely escaped with her life.
Waking up in a sterile hospital bed, Aria was consumed by a chilling confusion. She had given up the marriage without a single fight. Why were they still trying to push her to the brink of death?
Before she could process the trauma, her cousin rushed into the room with a pale face.
"Aria, no one has heard from your brother in forty-eight hours. He's missing."
The divorce wasn't just a betrayal. It was a calculated hunt, and Aria was finally ready to strike back. The Unwanted Fiancée And Her Spectacular Comeback
Modern I woke up in a squalid apartment with a splitting headache, realizing I had lost an entire year of my life.
For twelve months, my body had been piloted by someone else.
Before I could even process the agony in my brain, the family butler dragged me back to my wealthy, toxic home.
That's when I found out my "other self" had publicly drugged Clay Tate, a prominent heir, turning me into a desperate, unhinged laughingstock.
My father didn't care about my blackouts or the blinding pain in my head.
He froze all my accounts and threatened me.
"You will get on your knees, and you will apologize to their son."
My stepmother fanned the flames of his rage, while my stepsister Blair played the perfect, concerned angel, secretly ensuring the whole school gossiped about how pathetic I was.
When I went to school, everyone looked at me with pure disgust, treating me like a diseased pariah.
I didn't even remember doing any of it.
Why had the other me targeted Clay so obsessively?
And to make matters worse, the only cure for my neurological torture—a rare Ghost Orchid—was snatched right in front of me by my cold-blooded arranged fiancé, Julian Astor-Vance.
I refused to be their helpless scapegoat for another second.
I tracked the billionaire down to a dingy convenience store and blocked his wheelchair.
"Give it back to me."
This time, I was taking control of my own life. Swapped Babies: The Betrayed Mother's Vengeful Comeback
Romance Isabella returned early from her Paris business trip, exhausted but eager to see her husband and her sick baby daughter.
But when she quietly opened the front door, she found her husband tangled on the living room sofa with her best friend.
What froze her blood wasn't just the blatant betrayal, but the chilling conversation she overheard from the shadows.
"That sick little brat is already gone. She's out of the way."
Her husband's cold words shattered her reality. A rushed DNA test confirmed the horrific truth: the healthy baby sleeping in her nursery was her best friend's son. Her husband had swapped the infants. When she confronted them, he showed her a live video of her real daughter, covered in bruises and dying in a damp warehouse. He used the child's life to force Isabella to sign a zero-asset divorce. After rescuing her traumatized baby and rushing to the ER, she found all her bank accounts completely drained.
She couldn't understand how the man she loved for five years could be so monstrous, or why they would ruthlessly plot to murder an innocent, fragile infant.
But a desperate mother protecting her cub has nothing left to lose. Wiping away her tears, Isabella attached the damning DNA report to an email, marched straight back into her ex-husband's dining room, and slammed her phone on the table.
"One twitch of my thumb, and your company stock drops three hundred million dollars." Crushed By The Queen I Once Discarded
Modern I was eight months pregnant. The office was dangerously hot, so I turned on the AC, despite my husband's assistant complaining that the cold worsened her period cramps.
That evening, my husband Austen accused me of putting his assistant in the hospital.
To "make it up to me," he invited me to a gathering at an exclusive club.
But I didn't wake up at a party. I woke up locked inside a glass-walled freezer.
Outside the glass, Austen stood with his arm wrapped around a perfectly healthy Deb.
He raised a champagne flute to the city’s elite, toasting to “cooling down” his hot-headed wife.
His security guards stripped me to my underwear and forced my bare knees onto the ice.
They poured buckets of freezing water over my head and my swollen belly.
"Austen, please! Think about the baby!"
I screamed and begged, but Deb discreetly pricked her own hand, showing Austen a drop of blood and crying that my cruelty was causing her ulcers to bleed.
Austen's face twisted with rage. He called me a poison and ordered his men to pour more ice directly onto my skin.
Lying on the freezing metal floor, I felt a warm trickle of blood run down my legs.
I was losing our child, and the man I loved was watching it happen.
But I didn't die in that freezing hell.
When I woke up in the hospital, my supposedly dead billionaire father was holding my hand.
I didn't shed a single tear for my broken marriage. I was going to take everything Austen had. Reborn Heiress: My Ex-Husband's Ruin
Modern Genevieve was heavily pregnant, holding the legal papers that would transfer her massive family trust fund to her loving husband, Clinton.
But as she approached his study, she heard a familiar giggle. Through the cracked door, she saw her cousin Carolynn sitting on his desk, her skirt hiked up, while Clinton smirked and poured bourbon.
"Once she signs those papers, we don't need her anymore," Clinton laughed coldly. "The kidnapping is staged for tomorrow. She and the brat disappear permanently."
Genevieve gasped, and he spotted her. When she frantically tried to run, her trusted housekeeper blocked the stairs. Clinton dragged her back, beat her mercilessly, and locked her in a freezing, underground cellar.
Denied any medical help, she endured agonizing hours of labor alone in the dark, only to deliver a stillborn child. Clinton then walked in, ruthlessly tossed her dead baby's tiny body into a pile of dirty rags, and brutally strangled her.
As her lungs burned and the world faded to black, her heart shattered into a million jagged pieces. She had given him everything. How could they be so monstrous as to murder her and her innocent child just for money?
Opening her eyes again, the freezing cellar was gone.
She was standing in an emerald silk gown at an elite charity gala—the exact night their original kidnapping plot began, a month before she even announced her pregnancy.
This time, the naive socialite was dead, and she was going to make them pay in blood. One Night With The Unstable Billionaire
Billionaires Arla was supposed to marry Clinton Freeman, the perfect fiancé who had promised to love her and protect her five-year-old son.
But instead, the cold steel of a dagger pierced her chest.
As she collapsed onto the freezing basement floor, she watched her adoptive sister Blair laugh.
"Look at her," Blair sneered, kicking her son's small, blue, lifeless body.
Clinton stood there, calmly wiping the bloody blade on a pristine handkerchief.
In her dying moments, the horrifying truth became clear. Her fiancé and her adoptive family had been plotting all along to steal her massive trust fund.
To break her, they had secretly tortured her child. Clinton had watched Blair pierce the little boy's arms with sewing needles, rewarding him with candy to keep him silent.
Arla's lungs burned with the taste of copper and ash.
She couldn't understand why the family she trusted could be so monstrous, or why they had to brutally murder an innocent child just for money.
The darkness swallowed her whole, drowning her in suffocating hatred and absolute despair.
Then, she gasped for air.
The concrete floor was gone, replaced by the silk sheets of a hotel penthouse suite.
Arla had been reborn to the exact night six years ago—the very day Blair first dragged her son into the dark attic.
This time, she picked up a solid silver letter opener, ready to burn them all to the ground. Neglected Wife: Hidden Heiress's Cold Revenge
Romance I stood in the pouring rain at my father-in-law's funeral, the heels of my black pumps sinking into the mud. I was Mrs. Vargas, the wife of New York's most powerful billionaire, yet I was standing at the edge of the crowd like a forgotten statue.
Ten feet away, under the dry shelter of the family tent, my husband Hayes held another woman against his chest. It wasn't me he was whispering comfort to; it was Felicity, his late brother's widow and childhood sweetheart.
The humiliation didn't end at the cemetery. Hayes moved Felicity and her son into our home, relegating me to the guest wing while she took over the primary suites. He watched silently as her son smashed the only photograph of my deceased parents, then demanded I apologize for "scaring" the boy with my reaction. When Felicity's negligence ruined a twelve-million-dollar family heirloom, Hayes had the audacity to ask me to use my own savings to buy her a "consolation" engagement ring. He treated me like a parasite, never realizing I was a brilliant scientist with a hidden fortune and three patents to my name.
I realized then that our three-year marriage was a hollow farce. Hayes had never even touched me, claiming he wanted to "remain pure" for his memory of Felicity. I was nothing more than a business merger, a smudge on the lens of the perfect family portrait he was building with another man's widow.
The breaking point came during a lethal blizzard. Hayes promised to accompany me to my family's mandatory gala-a tradition where my absence meant a death sentence. But at the last second, he stood me up to stay home and tend to Felicity's stubbed toe. Left alone to face the wrath of the Santos Matriarch, I was forced to kneel in the freezing snow as punishment until my lungs began to fail and my vision blurred.
Just as the darkness started to take me, a black Maybach smashed through the iron gates. My exiled brother, the man the world calls "The Wolf," stepped out of the storm to reclaim what Hayes had discarded. Hayes thought I was a helpless doll who couldn't survive a day without his trust fund, but he's about to find out what happens when you let a Santos daughter freeze. His Second Chance, Her Regret
Fantasy I woke up in a hotel suite, still in my tuxedo, on my wedding day, October 12th, 2014. My fiancée, Sarah Jenkins, stood before me, her face pale, telling me to get out.
The jarring part was that in my memory, Sarah was dead. She had died ten years later, throwing herself in front of me during a car crash, her last words a plea for me to "live well." This was our wedding day, ten years in the past, a second chance.
I knew why I was here. I had spent a decade consumed by regret, forcing Sarah into a loveless marriage for a business deal. I later discovered her diary, filled with her true love for Mark Johnson, something she never had for me. After her death, I yearned to undo my mistakes. A locket, sold to me by a strange old man, promised a way to fix a great regret. Now, I was back.
The voice from the locket echoed in my mind, "Her death is a fixed point. Unless her three great regrets are undone, the end will remain the same." I knew those regrets: not fighting for Mark, giving up her music, and Mark's car accident, which had happened a year into our miserable marriage.
To start, I crossed my name off the marriage certificate and wrote Mark Johnson's in its place. Sarah's call came shortly after: Mark was in an accident. My blood ran cold, she accused me, "This is your fault! You did this!"
She demanded I fix it because his rare blood type matched mine. Bleeding myself dry for her, I watched Sarah's rage turn to tearful accusation, "You did this, Ethan! So you're going to fix it!" I thought she understood my sacrifice for her and Mark's happiness. But as I collapsed from donating double the amount of blood, she screamed, "Cutting his brake lines... Ethan, that was monstrous!" She believed I was the one who sabotaged Mark's car.
I had tried to save her, but instead, I became the villain. I chose to disappear from her life. The locket's work was done; I had erased her regrets. Now, only my own new life remained. His Sister, His Choice: My Freedom
Modern The gallery shimmered with color, a vibrant tribute to my son Leo's first year, his framed finger paintings and tiny plaster casts proudly displayed. My art, my life, my world. Today, I was a proud mother and a celebrated artist.
Then the gallery door creaked open, and a cold draft swept in with Brenda, my husband' s sister, her eyes already searching for fault lines.
"An entire party for a one-year-old? A little much, don' t you think, Sarah? Most people just do a cake and some balloons." The words cut, but the real sting came when she implied my "art" was just a desperate attempt to contribute financially. Mark, my husband, stood beside me, silent, his arm tightening in a gesture of restraint, not defense.
The room grew heavy with unspoken judgment, our friends shifting in discomfort. Brenda, reveling in the awkwardness, then whispered loud enough for me to hear, insulting my post-baby body. My throat tightened, and I fought back tears. This was supposed to be a moment of joy, yet here I was, wounded again by someone who delighted in tearing me down.
Later, as "Happy Birthday" filled the air, and Leo' s candle flickered, Brenda' s voice sliced through the sweetness: "I wish he grows up to look a little more like Mark. Right now, with that hair, he could be mistaken for the mailman' s kid." The insinuation was vile, stripping any innocence from the day.
Something inside me snapped. "Get out," I said, my voice shaking with a rage I hadn' t known I possessed.
But when Brenda feigned tears, my husband, Mark, sided with her. "Sarah, that' s enough," he said, his voice cold. "You are making a scene. Apologize to my sister right now." Apologize? His words hit me harder than any slap. He didn' t defend me; he condemned me. He chose his toxic sister over his family, over me.
Was this the man I married? The father of my child? My marriage, my sense of security, crumbled into a lie. My pain didn' t matter; my dignity didn' t matter. Only keeping the peace with Brenda mattered, at my expense.
As Linda, my gallery-owner friend, began politely ushering guests out, a horrifying clarity washed over me. I couldn't live a life where I always came second. I had to choose myself. I had to choose my son. The battle for my voice, my boundaries, and my future had just begun. Unwanted Husband, Unwritten Future
Romance A dull ache throbbed at the back of my head.
I woke up in a stark white hospital room, not knowing where I was, or even who I was.
Then they came-my adoptive parents, my wife Olivia, and my brother Liam.
Instead of concern, their faces were etched with annoyance.
They called me Ethan, but the name felt foreign.
They spoke about me as if I were furniture, criticizing my "stunts" and how I always sought attention.
Olivia, stunning and cold, entered, her eyes reflecting deep dislike.
Liam softened instantly for her.
Then Olivia spoke, revealing a devastating truth: "The CEO of Reed Tech' s husband tried to kill himself again. It' s humiliating."
Worse, whispers from the hallway confirmed it: "She' s in love with his brother."
I was married to a woman who despised me, living a pathetic life in a favored brother' s shadow.
It was a life of begging for love that was never given.
Panic started to build, but then a strange calm washed over me.
The amnesia wasn' t a curse; it was a mercy.
It was a blank slate, a chance to escape a prison I didn' t remember entering.
They thought I was the same weak, desperate Ethan.
They were wrong.
I wasn't him anymore.
I was no one.
And I could become anyone.
I made a decision, right there in that sterile room, surrounded by people who wished I didn't exist.
I would grant them their wish.
I reached for the phone.
I didn' t call a friend.
I called a lawyer.
"I need to file for divorce," I said, my voice steady.
"And I want to discuss severing ties with my adoptive family."
A new chapter was about to begin. Contract, Baby, And Billionaire
Romance The cold screen of my phone cast a harsh glow on Olivia' s smug, made-up face-my art school rival-her latest post a candid, unflattering photo of me.
Then, I saw the caption: "Some people will do anything for money.
Here's Scarlet, a little fuller these days.
Wonder if she finally landed a big fish.
Or maybe it' s just a little goldfish she' s carrying?"
The comments exploded, branding me a gold-digger, a woman using a baby to trap a man.
Nausea churned in my stomach, not just morning sickness, but pure panic.
Just as the world narrowed to the poison spreading online, a new notification flashed: a press release from the Sterling Corporation.
My heart pounded as I clicked, expecting another blow.
Instead, it was an announcement from the notoriously reclusive tech mogul, Liam Sterling: he confirmed he was the father of my unborn child and vowed legal action against any defamation.
The world tilted.
Liam Sterling?
The legendary, untouchable genius from college?
It was impossible.
I had never even spoken to him.
How could he be the father of a child conceived in a transaction with a nameless stranger in a dimly lit hotel room-a desperate mistake made to save my dying grandmother?
It made no sense.
The public shaming felt insignificant now, overshadowed by a terrifying reality: my quiet, desperate life had just collided with a world of unimaginable power.
I was trapped, a pawn in a game I didn' t understand.
I had signed a contract for survival, and now I was paying the ultimate price. Her Billionaire Husband's Vengeance
Romance The Boston Real Estate Awards gala was meant to be a triumph – a celebration of my hard-earned success as lead architect for a foundation rebuilding the city, a life I painstakingly built after leaving behind a toxic past.
But then, across the glittering ballroom, I saw them: Matthew, my ex-fiancé, and Sabrina, my stepsister, his heavily pregnant wife, the golden couple whose lies once orchestrated my death and the loss of my unborn child.
They spun their familiar, perfected tale to a reporter: my "public breakdown" in Vegas, the "male escorts," the "maxed-out credit cards" – a fabrication designed to paint me as unhinged, justifying why "our family had no choice but to cut her off."
My heart pounded with a cold, familiar dread; this was the narrative that destroyed my first life, costing me everything, even before Matthew' s truck "accidentally" ran me off the road for my inheritance.
But this time, when they sneered, offering me a job cleaning construction sites, mocking my presumed destitution, a calm resolve settled over me; my second chance wasn't about vengeance, but about finally living free. Breaking the Prophecy
Horror Oakhaven, Vermont, lives by a chilling prophecy: my deaf-mute mother, Martha, will speak only three times, her words bearing immense, unsettling weight. For years, she was just a quiet enigma, her silence another local quirk.
Then, the unwritten rule shattered. My father died mysteriously after her first whispered "utterance." Five years later, just before my wedding, Martha whispered to my fiancé, Michael, and he barely escaped death in a bizarre "sleepwalking accident."
Oakhaven erupted, screaming "Silent Curse." Reporters swarmed, turning our private grief into public spectacle. My mother retreated into an impenetrable silence, leaving me isolated, my world crumbling under the supposed curse.
But I knew better. Dad never sleepwalked. Michael remembered nothing. My mother, though silent, harbored no malice. The official stories felt like flimsy lies. What truly happened? What did her "prophecies" really mean?
Then, her desperate voice reached me: "Sarah... Pastor Thorne... He knows... Don't trust... the water... He...!" The line went dead. I found her, a suicide note and pills. But I knew. This wasn't a curse. This was a warning. And I would uncover the killer. The Surgeon's Secret, My Husband's Lie
Mafia My beloved grandfather's "routine" surgery didn't just end in death; it unveiled a nightmare.
Then I found it: "MD <3 VA"—Mark Davidson and Victoria Ainsworth—carved into his liver, a sickening love note from my own husband and the surgeon who had killed him.
Mark, the Chief Medical Examiner, covered up her crime, then publicly sided with Victoria's powerful, elite family in court, systematically discrediting and financially ruining me.
I lost everything: my home, my reputation, my hope, even enduring a brutal beating from their thugs.
The horror escalated when Victoria, in cold blood, murdered my bedridden mother, then gloated, revealing Mark's decades-old betrayal that had also led to my father's death.
How could the man I loved for so long be complicit in such monstrous evils, betraying my entire family, leaving me broken, destitute, and utterly alone?
But in my deepest despair, a hidden letter from my mother surfaced, revealing a single, impossible name: my long-lost uncle, a highly influential U.S. General.
The monumental fight for justice, finally, was on. You might like
The Luna You Betrayed Is No Longer Yours
Erika002 "This is Virella, my wife."
Three years.
And that was all Alpha Kaelen gave me.
No welcome. No touch. No recognition.
Just another woman at his side, carrying his child.
While I ruled in his absence, I was nothing more than a placeholder. A Luna he never chose.
So I gave up. And I left.
One rejection was all it took to break the bond.
When I returned, I wasn't the Luna he abandoned. I was untouchable, respected, and feared. And no longer his to claim.
Now he watches me like a man drowning...
Because the woman he discarded came back as something far beyond his reach. And this time, I didn't come alone.
The Alpha of Ebonmoon stands beside me, his presence crushing, and his hand firm on my waist...
"Careful, Kaelen," his voice drops, dark with warning. "Rowena isn't yours anymore."
His lips brush my temple, possessively. "She's mine. If you try to take her, I'll end you." 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. The Scarred Luna: Taming The Ruthless Alpha
Kora In a world ruled by the merciless laws of werewolves, Jaselya's life had been defined by nothing but pain, humiliation, and rejection.
As the illegitimate daughter of Alpha Balak, born from a forbidden affair and marked by a hideous scar, she grew up as a slave within the Moonlight Pack. Despised by her own family, she survived in the shadows, convinced of her own worthlessness.
But everything changed when the Moonlight Pack was crushed into submission by Xaeron, a powerful and terrifying Alpha who had returned to exact vengeance for the slaughter of his family orchestrated years earlier by Balak.
Cold, ruthless, and consumed by hatred, Xaeron reduced the pack to its knees and demanded Jaselya as his spoils of war.
Overnight, the young woman became the unwilling bride of the most dangerous man in the wolf kingdom.
As Xaeron sought to break her in retribution for her father's sins, an inexplicable chemistry began to stir between them-a troubling connection that neither hatred nor vengeance could seem to extinguish.
Amid pack wars, bloody betrayals, political conspiracies, and the wounds of the past, Jaselya would have to learn to survive in the arms of a man capable of destroying her... or becoming her soft spot. Unwanted By The Alpha: His Hidden Genius Mate
Jing Jing Today was my thirtieth birthday. I left work early, secretly hoping my husband, Braxton, would finally remember and celebrate with me.
But when I unlocked the door, the house was dark and silent.
Through the terrace window, I saw him and our five-year-old daughter, Bonnie, sitting happily on a picnic blanket. Sitting across from them was Danika, holding the exact chocolate lavender cake I had wanted.
"Make a wish, Auntie Danika! Daddy said all your wishes will come true!" Bonnie cheered.
Braxton looked at Danika with a profound tenderness he had never, not once, shown me.
My hands went numb, and my water glass slipped, shattering loudly on the marble floor.
The laughter outside stopped. Braxton stepped inside, frowned at the broken glass, and pulled out his phone.
"Mrs. Sullivan, there's a mess in the living room. Have it cleaned up tomorrow."
He didn't call my name. He didn't even consider that his wife might be home. He just walked back out to his perfect family.
Standing in the shadows, I realized I was just a ghost in my own house. My husband didn't love me, and my daughter wished another woman was her mother.
The last flicker of hope in my heart completely died.
I didn't scream or cry. I packed a single suitcase, signed a divorce agreement waiving all assets and custody, and walked out to build my own tech empire.
They wanted a life without me. I was going to give it to them. The Alpha's Biggest Mistake: Losing His Fated Luna
Xiu Luo For two years, I held the Blackwood Pack together as Luna, waiting for my Fated Mate, Alpha Jaxson, to return from the border wars.
But when his convoy finally arrived, he didn't even look at me. Instead, he helped out a fragile, pregnant woman and her young son.
In front of the entire pack, he announced she was his "chosen family" and that she was carrying his child.
He demanded I welcome his mistress as a sister, claiming her father had saved his life.
When I refused to share my mate and handed all my Luna duties over to her, his family turned on me.
At dinner, the mistress's son deliberately rammed into a servant, spilling a tureen of scalding soup all over my hand.
As my skin blistered in excruciating pain, Jaxson's grandmother didn't check on me. Instead, she shielded the smirking boy.
"As the Luna, can't you be more composed? You're frightening the child!"
And Jaxson, the Alpha who was supposed to protect me, just stood there in absolute silence.
I looked at the severe burns on my hand and the ugly faces of this family I had served for years. The last trace of affection in my heart completely vanished.
I didn't scream or cry. I calmly called my private physician to document my injuries.
Taking back the title of Luna was no longer enough. I wanted my freedom. Forsaken By The Pack, Destined For The Lycan King
Escritor apalacio I was born to be Alpha Damien Carlisle's fated Luna.
Instead, I lived like a stray dog in his pack.
For one year, I watched everyone worship Lilith Vance, his fragile first love, while they mocked me as the barren mate he was too ashamed to mark.
Then I learned the truth.
His mother had been forcing brutal fertility herbs into my body.
His sister threw an illegal sterility poison at me.
And Damien, my own mate, had been secretly lacing my food with wolfsbane contraceptives for months.
When I confronted him, he did not deny it.
"I couldn't let you get pregnant," he said coldly. "If Lilith found out you were carrying my heir, the shock might kill her."
I finally understood.
I was never his Luna.
I was his bloodline. His legal womb. His family's insurance policy.
The moment Lilith coughed up blood, Damien abandoned me without looking back.
So I ran to the capital and begged the Alpha King to grant me a formal Rejection.
He threw my petition away unread.
My mate had poisoned me.
My pack had betrayed me.
And the King himself refused to free me.
Fine.
If the law would not save me, I would save myself.
In my past life, I had been a healer no one believed until it was too late. This time, I remembered everything.
In seven days, at the Royal Hunt, the Alpha King would drink a silver poison designed to kill even a Lycan.
No royal healer would be able to save him.
But I would.
I packed my surgical kit, disappeared into the city slums, and prepared the only cure in the kingdom.
When the King lay dying, he would finally listen.
And the price of his life would be simple.
My freedom. The Beast's Defiant Mate
Lively At the grand Moonwise Festival, my fiancé, Archon Elliott, decided to publicly humiliate me in front of the entire court.
He commanded me to kneel and beg for his betrothal flower, treating me like a broken slave rather than the heir to House Leon.
When I refused, he brought his mistress, Corliss Schneider, into my study to deliver his ultimate punishment.
"Our marriage will be in name only. I will not share your bed, and I will certainly never give you a child."
He wanted to make me a barren laughingstock, while forcing me to publicly request Corliss be made his Junior Consort.
To make things worse, Corliss pulled out a jeweled dagger-the exact kind her cousin had used to cripple my brother's leg.
"On your wedding day, you will take this dagger, and you will slice open your own arm."
She demanded I bleed at the threshold of the Underwood estate as "payment" for offending her.
Elliott didn't stop her. Instead, a dark flicker of pleasure crossed his eyes. He wanted to see me mutilated.
I had wasted years loving a man who blindly protected the woman who ruined my family, believing he could force my submission.
But I didn't cry or beg. I simply laughed at their sheer stupidity. 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. Unwanted By The Alpha Heir, Marked By The Northern King
Evvie Foreman I had been courting the Alpha heir for two years, waiting for the day he would finally propose and make me his Luna.
But instead of a ring, he calmly informed me that he was using my family's massive financial donation to buy a noble title for my cousin, Carson.
"Carson needs this title to be a suitable match for my future mate," he said, expecting me to gratefully accept being relegated to the shadows as a secondary mate.
When I returned home, my own father and grandmother didn't defend me.
They praised Carson and demanded I accept the humiliation, claiming my mother's vast merchant wealth belonged entirely to their Pack.
When my mother and I refused to yield, my father threatened to sever their mate bond and exile my brother and me as hunted, Packless Rogues.
For eighteen years, my family's consortium had funded their lavish lifestyle, yet they treated us like nothing more than a vault to be plundered.
The man I loved and the family I trusted were willing to destroy my life and my mother's dignity just to feed their own greed and arrogant pride.
I didn't shed a single tear.
I immediately initiated the liquidation protocol, recalling every asset we had ever loaned them and stripping their grand manor bare to the walls.
Then, I packed a priceless mythril sword and sent a letter to the one man who could help me crush them all: the ruthless Wolf of the North. 
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