Johan Gorski
13 Published Stories
Johan Gorski's Books and Stories
From Rejected Omega To The Supreme Luna
Werewolf Four years ago, I walked into liquid silver fire to drag the Alpha heir out of a burning wreck.
The silver melted the skin off my back, leaving me a topographic nightmare of scars, while my inner wolf went dormant to survive the pain.
I thought my sacrifice meant something.
But when Julian finally woke from his coma, he didn't look at me with love. He looked at my burns with pure disgust.
"Who let this broken Omega in here?" he sneered.
He pulled Estelle—the woman who had fled the scene without a scratch—into his arms.
"This," he declared, burying his face in her flawless neck, "is the scent of my savior. Not you. You smell like a chemical spill."
He treated me like a leper in my own pack. He let his sister slash my dress to expose my "ugly" back to dinner guests.
On the day he was forced to marry me for PR, he drove us to the altar with Estelle in the backseat.
When she faked a panic attack, claiming the wolfsbane I warned her about was "anxiety," Julian slammed on the brakes in the middle of a storm.
"Get out," he commanded, unlocking my door.
"Julian, we're ten minutes from the wedding."
"Estelle is dying! You selfish monster, get out!"
He kicked me out of the Rolls Royce, leaving me standing in the mud in my white silk gown.
As his taillights faded, I didn't cry. I closed my eyes and grabbed the frayed bond in my mind.
"I, Ember Tucker, reject you, Julian Copeland."
Snap.
He thought he was discarding a broken toy. He didn't realize he had just rejected the legendary White Wolf—and his only chance at survival. Bred by My Ex's Boss
LGBT+ I married an S-class Alpha to save my family's bankrupt company.
But my husband, Braydon, treated me worse than a stray dog.
When my heat cycle triggered early, the fever was agonizing. I crawled to our master bedroom, crying and begging him for just one temporary bite to save my life.
Instead, he locked the door from the inside.
"Go back to your room. I told you I didn't want to deal with you this weekend."
Through the crack under the door, I smelled the cheap perfume of his mistress. While I was dying in the hallway, forced to inject a toxic black-market suppressant that made me vomit blood, he was sleeping with her in our bed.
Days later, a drunk Braydon pinned me to the floor, trying to violently force a permanent mark on my neck just to assert his dominance.
When I fought him off, he blamed me for provoking him and casually tossed a credit card at me to buy my silence.
"Go buy whatever you want. Just tell the clinic you slipped in the shower."
Staring at the man who was supposed to protect me, my heart went completely cold. Why did I ever think this monster would change? This wasn't a marriage anymore; it was a cage, and the animal inside it was trying to kill me.
I quietly pressed the record button on my phone, capturing every single word of his twisted bribe.
Then, I pulled out a matte black business card and called the terrifying Enigma CEO who had been waiting for me in the shadows. The Ghost Heiress: Rising From Shadows
Modern I had served as the private medical counsel for the Huff family for five years, keeping their scandals buried and their blood pumping. But at the Cipriani gala, standing under a storm of camera flashes, I realized I was just a smudge of ink on their golden canvas.
My twenty-year-old niece, Ainsley, looked me up and down with a sneer and pointed at my throat. She demanded I hand over the emerald pendant—the only thing my grandmother left me—because it would "pop" better against the gold gown of her father’s new media darling, Harlow.
I turned to Grafton, the man whose neurodegenerative condition I had personally managed in secret, waiting for him to act like a human being. He didn't even blink. He just leaned in and hissed, "Give it to her, Katharina. Don't make a scene. Fix this."
After I handed over the necklace and walked out, the retaliation was instant. Within ten minutes, my credit cards were declined, my biometric access was revoked, and the concierge I had tipped for a decade blocked me from entering my own home. Grafton told me I’d be destitute and starving within a week.
They all thought I was a family charity case, a leech clinging to the Huff name for prestige. They had no idea that I had spent years quietly securing the intellectual property rights to their most profitable drugs under my maiden name. They didn't know that I was "The Broker," an underground medical legend with a bank account that dwarfed their trust funds.
I watched from the shadows as Grafton’s health began to crumble without my specialized injections and their stock price went into a tailspin. They thought they could erase me, but you can't delete the person who holds the structural integrity of your life together.
When the panicked calls finally started coming, I didn't answer. I wasn't interested in a settlement or an apology anymore. I was busy using my offshore funds to buy up their crashing shares, ready to take back the empire they thought they had kicked me out of. His Unwanted Mate: Rise Of The White Wolf
Werewolf "Just sign the damn paper, Ava."
Liam, the Alpha I had served and loved for three years, threw a confession across the table. He wanted me to admit to corporate espionage—a crime actually committed by his fragile, innocent mistress, Chloe.
When I refused, Liam didn't hesitate. He pulled up a live feed of my dying mother in the pack hospital and held his finger over the 'Terminate Life Support' button.
"She is pack property. Sign, or the machine turns off."
To save my mother, I signed away my rank, my reputation, and my freedom. I became a Rogue. But taking the fall wasn't enough for them.
Two days later, Chloe trapped me in the lab to steal my life's work. To cover her tracks, she sabotaged the servers and set the room on fire. When the flames roared to life, Liam burst in.
He saw me trapped in a glass box, choking on poisonous fumes. He saw Chloe standing safely by the door, faking a sprained ankle.
He looked at me. Then he looked at her.
"I'm sorry," he mouthed.
He scooped up the arsonist and ran, leaving me to be consumed by the inferno.
As the fire melted my skin, the pathetic love I held for him finally died. But I didn't.
Instead of turning to ash, an ancient, terrifying power exploded from my core. My eyes snapped open, glowing a blinding white.
I reached out through the mind-link to the one man Liam feared most.
"Ethan? I'm ready to burn the Blackwood Pack to the ground." Jilted By Prince, Claimed By King
Modern It was the night of the Winter Chalet Gala, the most prestigious event of the year and the night my life was officially supposed to begin. I was the perfect socialite, a Senator’s golden daughter, and the fiancée of Prince Clement.
Then my sister, Bailee, handed me a glass of champagne with a sweet, innocent smile.
"Just a sip for luck, big sister."
Within minutes, my blood turned into liquid fire. In my past life, I didn't realize that "luck" was a drug designed to strip me of my dignity. I had stumbled into a hallway where a planted stranger waited for the paparazzi to catch us. The scandal was the first nail in my coffin. My family disowned me, my fiancé abandoned me for my sister, and I eventually ended the nightmare by jumping off the Golden Gate Bridge.
I died in the freezing bay, realizing too late that my sister’s love was a death sentence and my parents had already replaced me. The betrayal felt like swallowing broken glass, a pain more suffocating than the salt water that eventually claimed my lungs.
Why did the people I loved want me dismantled? Why was my suicide their only version of mercy?
Opening my eyes again, I was back on that snowy balcony three years ago. The iridescent pearl manicure was back on my fingers, and the drug was already screaming in my veins. But I won't be the carcass for the vultures this time. I kicked off my heels and climbed the stone railing, looking toward the forbidden Royal Wing.
I’m not going back to the trap. I’m going to the only man powerful enough to burn them all: King Ignatius Fisher. Caught In The Twin's Cruel Game
Modern For three years, I was married to a lie. The man I loved, the man whose name I carried, wasn't my husband. He was his identical twin brother.
The truth shattered my perfect life on our anniversary. My real husband, Elliot, had swapped places with his volatile twin, Killian, all so he could be with another woman without the mess of a divorce.
I was just a placeholder in their cruel game. Elliot stood by as his lover burned my hand, while Killian wore his face, whispering promises he never meant.
But the final blow came when I found Killian's phone. In a group chat, he called me a "prize" he'd won from his brother, promising his friends they could have me once he was bored.
That's when my heartbreak turned to ice. I filed for divorce, took everything the pre-nup promised, and fled to London. I thought I was free, but now they've followed me, determined to reclaim their favorite toy. My Fiancé's Twin, A Cruel Deception
Romance My fiancé has a twin brother. For the past year, the man I' ve shared a bed with wasn't my fiancé at all.
I discovered the man I loved was just an actor, a stand-in. My real fiancé, Brandon, was secretly married to his adopted sister, Caryl.
But their plan was far more sinister than just swapping places. They were going to let me marry the twin, then stage an "accident" to harvest my corneas for Caryl.
When I discovered their plot, Caryl framed me for attacking her. Brandon, the man who swore to protect me, had me whipped until I was bleeding on the floor.
Then she murdered his grandfather and blamed me. He didn't hesitate. He threw me into a psychiatric hospital to rot.
He never once questioned her lies. He simply discarded me, the woman he claimed to love for five years.
But they forgot one thing. I wasn't just Farah Moore, a helpless orphan. I am Aurora Valois, heiress to an empire. After being rescued from that hell, I faked my death and disappeared. Now, I'm back to start a new life, and this time, I'm living for myself. From His Pawn To Her Queen
Romance I was Kennedy Hall, the rebellious journalist of a political dynasty. My only escape was a secret, passionate affair with Elliot Solis, a powerful CEO carved from ice and logic. He called me his "beautiful disaster," a storm contained within the walls of his penthouse.
But our affair was built on a lie. I discovered he was only "taming" me as a favor to another woman, Camille-the fragile daughter of my father's chief of staff, to whom he owed an unpayable debt.
He publicly chose her over me, wiping her tears with a tenderness he never showed me. He protected her, defended her, and when I was cornered by a predator, he abandoned me to rush to her side. The ultimate betrayal came when he had me thrown in jail and beaten, hissing that I needed to "learn my lesson."
The final blow came during a car crash. Without a second's hesitation, he threw himself in front of Camille, shielding her with his body and leaving me to face the impact alone. I wasn't his love; I was a liability he was willing to sacrifice.
Lying broken in a hospital bed, I finally understood. I wasn't his beautiful disaster; I was his fool. So I did the only thing I could. I burned his perfect world to the ground, accepted a marriage proposal from a kind billionaire who promised me peace, and walked away to start a new life, leaving the ashes of our love behind. When Love Dies, Revenge Begins
Modern The day they buried my four-year-old son, Leo, killed by a hit-and-run, the driver, Karyn Morse, showed up at his grave. She smiled, dropped Leo' s favorite toy into his open casket, and called him a "clumsy little thing."
My husband, District Attorney David Blair, the city' s pillar of strength, stood by, silent. I, an investigative journalist, knew I' d find justice. I had the evidence, the witness, a Pulitzer-winning track record.
But Karyn Morse was different. The judge, beholden to her powerful father, dismissed everything. She walked free. Then, the bailiff called my name. "Eva Benton, you are under arrest." My own husband, Leo' s father, prosecuted me for criminal negligence. He twisted my grief, my frantic search for truth, into a paranoid obsession.
My best friend, Cheri, testified against me, claiming I was unstable. The jury found me guilty. Three years in a maximum-security prison. For being a grieving mother. For losing my son. I lost another child in prison, a secret I buried deep.
Why? Why did he do it? Why did he betray me?
The day I was released, I found him at Leo' s grave, with Karyn and their son. "Daddy, can we go get ice cream now?" Karyn cooed, "We have to say hi to your brother." My world shattered. He hadn' t just framed me; he had replaced me. He had replaced our son. "Worried?" he said, when Karyn asked about me. "Why would I be? She' s nothing to me now." The thread snapped. I called Cheri. "I need your help, Cheri." Fake Amnesia, Real Betrayal
LGBT+ The call came at 7:05 PM on our tenth wedding anniversary.
My husband, David, was in an accident.
At the hospital, he was awake, but a young woman, his assistant Chloe, was holding his hand, acting like his wife.
When I walked in, he looked at me, a blank stranger' s stare, then asked, "Who are you?"
He laughed when I said I was his wife, then demanded security remove me, while Chloe, smiling, pretended to cry.
It wasn't just memory loss; it was a cruel, targeted erasure.
I tried proof, the marriage certificate, but he pushed it away as "just a piece of paper."
Then Chloe waltzed in with his favorite soup, and he defended her when I confronted her.
"She' s the only one who' s been here for me!" he screamed.
He snarled that I was "exhausted, haggard," compared to Chloe, who was "kind and gentle."
My wedding ring, a symbol of our forever, flew from my hand as he slapped it away, clinking under the bed.
"Don' t come back," he said, turning his back on me to comfort Chloe.
Later, I learned why: he had been having an affair with Chloe, his mother's 65th birthday ruined by his absence and her answering his phone.
My world shattered when Mark Johnson, David's estranged best friend, told me what David said: "The fake amnesia was a stroke of genius, right? A clean break."
My husband had faked a brain injury to throw me away.
A car hit me, sending me to the hospital, and I knew what I had to do.
When Mark came in, I looked at him, my face blank, then asked, "Are you… my husband?" My Wife, The Butcher
Romance I knelt on one knee, velvet box in hand, ready to propose to the woman I loved, a rising star in the theater world.
But instead of a yes, her cold voice cut through the silence: "I'm in love with someone else."
Instantly, her aunt, Nicole Johns, stepped from the wings, claiming she'd harbored a crush on me for years, and married me within a month.
Five years later, severely burned in a pyrotechnics "accident," I overheard Nicole, my wife, discussing my fate with the doctor.
She ordered my healthy skin be given to her lover, the very man my ex-fiancée left me for, Matthew Blakely, for a cosmetic procedure.
"For Ethan," she hissed, "use the experimental synthetic skin. It's cheaper."
Then, unbelievably, she tried to have me sterilized while I was unconscious, revealing she'd aborted our children because they were an "inconvenient" distraction from her affair with Matthew.
The "accident" and their fabricated story of my jealousy were all a setup.
I later learned the deepest horror: she had staged Matthew's "attack" to steal my kidney, which he openly gloated about right after receiving it.
They had a secret, sinister plan for my body.
My world shattered beyond repair.
I finally called my family' s ranch in Texas, ready to fight for my life. Worshiped Him, Whipped By Him
Romance I was just a 20-year-old NYU art history student, interning at my dad’s real estate firm. But my world privately revolved around Marcus Thorne—my father’s handsome, brilliant business partner. My crush on him was pure, all-consuming, utterly naive. He’d always been so kind, a true gentleman.
At a charity gala, I watched Izzy Vance, Marcus’s associate, subtly ply him with drinks. When I tried to help him to his suite, Izzy "found" us, her perfectly timed gasp and a discreet phone flash sealing my fate.
The next morning, headlines screamed: "NYU Intern Olivia Chen Caught in Compromising Position with Marcus Thorne." Blurry, damning photos accompanied them. Marcus’s icy call followed: "Izzy found you taking advantage of me! My reputation is in shreds because of your childish stunt!" He believed her. Completely.
Whispers and hostile stares at my father’s office became unbearable. The kind man I’d adored now looked at me with absolute disgust. My dreams shattered. How could he be so blind? So cruel? This wasn't the Marcus I knew. This felt brutally unfair.
That week, the naive girl who worshipped him died. In her place, a colder awareness dawned: the world was not kind, people not what they seemed. He thought I was playing games, but I was done. This was my turning point. You might like
Forsaken by the Pack, Mated to the Secret Lycan King
Da Lanlan 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. Rejected Luna, Claimed by the King
Rabbit As a wolfless charity case at the Hyde Pack's celebration, my world shattered when Braydon, my supposed protector, publicly announced Katherine Parrish as his Luna, erasing me.
Heartbroken, I fled into a terrifying contract marriage with Alpha King Dallas Marshall for protection. Braydon's public assault and threats forced me to reveal my secret marriage, challenging the King.
My "protection" felt like a prison. Braydon revealed I was a "key" to power, not a mate, confirming my fears. Enraged by my attempt to take a morning-after pill, Dallas forced me to swallow it, then branded my lips with a furious kiss.
His chilling silence hardened my resolve. I immediately drafted an addendum to our contract, setting strict boundaries to reclaim control.
Rejected by the Heir, Claimed by the Lycan King
Annabell Seto I was a wolfless Omega, sold to the powerful Blackwood Pack to save my bankrupt family from ruin.
But on my wedding day, as I walked down the aisle alone, my groom didn't show up.
Braden, the Alpha heir, had abandoned me at the altar. He boarded a private jet with his scentless human mistress, leaving me to face the cruel mockery of the most powerful Alphas in North America.
To clean up his mess, the Dowager Luna offered me two humiliating replacements to fulfill our sacred marriage treaty: a brute who despised me, or a trembling coward who couldn't even look me in the eye.
The pack members sneered, publicly screaming that I was nothing but "leftovers" and a rejected stray.
They expected me to lower my head, accept their scraps, and remain a pathetic pawn in their political games. They thought a fragile, wolfless girl would just break down and cry.
But a white-hot pride ignited in my soul. I refused to be their victim.
I rejected both of their pathetic options and pointed directly at the most terrifying man in the room—the Lycan King himself.
"I demand a replacement. I choose him."
I didn't just escape humiliation; I forced the ruthless King to make me his Queen.
Now, I am the Luna of the entire pack, wielding the power to control their fate, and stepmother to the coward who threw me away.
It's time to teach these beasts exactly who they are dealing with. His Rejected Omega, The Cruel Alpha King's Mate
Yi Shi I am the Fated Mate of Alpha Damien Blackwood, but because I was born a wolfless Omega, I was kept as his dirty little secret.
The constant rejection from my mate was literally killing me. The Pack Healer handed me my death sentence: Terminal Soul Wither. My life was ticking down to its final months.
While I sat in the dark, dying and gasping for air, Damien threw a twenty-million-dollar fireworks festival for his chosen future Luna, Isabelle. When he finally came home, reeking of her perfume, he only looked at me with eyes as cold as winter ice.
"It's your ovulation window. Let's get this over with."
He only wanted to use me to breed a powerful heir. He threatened to exile my only remaining family if I didn't comply, and even ordered me to draft a legal petition to invalidate my own existence so Isabelle could take my place. Even my adopted brother Jax, whom I suffered for years to protect, publicly threw me to the dirt just to ally with a powerful Pack.
I sacrificed my brilliant future as a top strategist to marry Damien, enduring three years of abuse and isolation. Why did I have to rot away in agony while they celebrated my replacement on glossy magazines?
I wouldn't let them watch me die in their golden cage. I signed the ancient Rejection petition, dropped the manor keys, and walked out into the freezing night.
This time, I chose to sever the bond myself. Pregnant After One Night With The Lycan
Kellie Brown When I woke up with a hangover, I found a handsome and naked stranger sleeping beside me.
---
I'm Tanya, a surrogate's daughter, an omega with no wolf and no scent.
On my 18th birthday, when I planned to give my virginity to my boyfriend, I found him sleeping with my sister.
I went to the bar to get drunk, and accidentally had a one-night stand with the handsome stranger.
I thought he was just an ordinary werewolf, but they said he was Marco, the alpha prince and the most powerful Lycan in our kingdom.
'You slut, you're pregnant! Fortunately, Rick is kind enough to let you be his mistress and save you from shame.' my stepmother said, tossing a pregnancy strip on the table.
Rick was an old pervert. No she-wolf could keep up with his sexual demand. No she-wolf could survive with him more than 1 year.
When I was in despair, Marco came to my rescue. He got down on one knee, took out a ring and said he would marry me.
---
I thought Marco married me because he loved me, but later I found that was not the truth... Marked by the Absolute Alpha CEO
Afrodite LesFolies I woke up with a vicious hangover in the bed of Kaelen Blackwood, the ruthless Alpha King of our city.
As a wolfless Omega, I panicked and told him I couldn't be his because I had a boyfriend, Julian.
But Kaelen just sneered, and hours later, I found out why. Julian had been cheating on me with the princess of the rival Thorne Pack, colluding with the very enemies who ruined my family.
When I tried to run, Kaelen cut off every escape route. He branded me with his suffocating scent, tracked my every move, and threw a Mate Contract on my lap.
He knew my deepest, darkest secret: I was hunting Alaric Thorne, the monster who murdered my mother.
"Sign it. It's your only ticket in."
Three years of my life with Julian had been a pathetic lie. I was betrayed by the man I loved and sold out to the pack that destroyed my mother.
My ex thought I was just a weak, discarded Omega he could trample on. He thought I was left with nothing.
He was dead wrong.
I took the billionaire Alpha's pen and signed the contract, demanding a shadow team and untraceable resources in return.
Tonight, at the elite charity gala, I stood draped in diamonds beside the most dangerous predator in Manhattan.
Seeing my cheating ex pale with absolute terror in the crowd, I looked up into Kaelen's stormy gray eyes.
"Kiss me."
I am no longer the prey. I am his Luna, and I am going to destroy them all. Rejected By The Alpha, Claimed By The Lycan
George B I was the Luna of the Silvermoon Pack, bound in a political marriage to Alpha Jace for three miserable years.
But because I was a "wolfless" runt, he never touched me. Instead, he moved his late brother's widow and her bratty son into my wing, publicly treating her as his true mate.
He let her son destroy my parents' only surviving photograph and demanded I apologize to the boy. When my cruel grandmother summoned us to the Winter Solstice Conclave—a deadly trial—Jace knew I would be brutally tortured if I arrived without my Alpha.
Yet, he chose to stay home to comfort his mistress over a fake stomach ache.
"I never wanted a wolfless mate," he had sneered, abandoning me.
He handed me over to the Blackwood Pack's Terrace of Correction. Forced to my knees, the silver-laced stone burned my flesh while the blizzard froze my blood.
As my vision darkened, I realized he had intentionally sent me here to die. I had swallowed my pride for three years, hiding my true identity and the signed rejection papers I had tricked him into signing, only to be thrown away like trash for another woman's fake tears.
Just as I prepared to let the darkness take me, the impenetrable iron gates of the Keep were obliterated by a massive black Maybach.
Baron, my terrifying Lycan cousin, stepped into the storm and scooped my scorched body into his arms.
"Short every stock tied to the Silvermoon name," he ordered into his phone, his eyes locked on my abusers. "I want Jace begging on his knees by sunrise." 
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