Leah
12 Published Stories
Leah's Books and Stories
Regret: Rejecting His Billionaire Supreme Mate
Werewolf I spent three months in Zurich securing banking rights for my family's pack. I couldn't wait to give my five-year-old daughter, Lily, the rare Starlight Moonstone Beast I’d bought to soothe her shifting pains.
But before I landed, I saw a photo online: my husband's "distant nephew" was playing with that very toy in my living room.
I rushed to the Pack Academy, only to find a teacher raising a riding crop laced with wolfsbane against my child.
Instead of protecting us, my husband, Austyn, stepped out with a woman wearing my furs and my grandmother’s emerald necklace.
He told the gathered crowd I was a mental patient having a delusion.
He hugged his mistress and announced she was the true Luna, claiming our marriage was a mistake and publicly rejecting our bond.
For five years, I had suppressed my Supreme Alpha aura to let him feel powerful, funding his lifestyle and building his reputation.
In return, he brainwashed my pack, abused my daughter, and tried to cast me out as a beggar in my own queendom.
He thought he had won because he believed his own lies about my weakness.
But when his illegitimate son threw a rock that drew blood from my daughter’s face, my patience snapped.
I stopped suppressing my scent, and my eyes turned molten gold.
"This is not a dispute, Austyn. This is an execution." His Betrayal, My New Beginning
Romance I had a secret: for three years, Liam Hayes, my brother's best friend and five years my junior, was mine in the dark. I loved him completely, even sacrificing career opportunities for him. When I finally asked for us to be open, I discovered his true intentions were to use me to make his childhood sweetheart, Sarah Jenkins, jealous.
The devastating truth hit hard: during an accident where I broke my ankle, Liam abandoned me for Sarah's minor paper cut. Then, at the hospital, he publicly denied knowing me, claiming I was just "Ryan' s sister," before kissing Sarah intensely in front of me, shattering any illusions I had left.
The humiliation deepened when I overheard his friends casually discussing his plan to propose to Sarah at an upcoming music festival, using me as the unwitting backdrop by having me sing backup vocals on the song he wrote for her. My world crumbled; I was nothing but a pawn in his manipulative game.
The emotional wounds festered as I struggled to comprehend how someone I loved could be so cruel and calculating. How could I have been so blind to his true nature? The betrayal was too deep to reconcile.
In a pivotal moment, knowing I couldn't endure another second of being his fool, I made a life-altering decision. I cut all ties, resigned from my job, left the city, and accepted an arranged marriage to a kind, stable man, Marcus Thorne, to rebuild my shattered life. Entangled In His Master Plan
Romance A pounding headache ripped me from sleep, but this wasn't my bedroom. It was a luxurious penthouse, and I was in bed with a man whose familiar scent brought a rush of panic: Ethan Hayes, my estranged step-uncle who' d vanished years ago.
The shock was a physical blow. He was family, a ghost from a bizarre chapter of my life, and the memory of our night together was horribly clear. I fled, scrubbing my skin raw, desperate to erase his touch.
I clung to the hope it was a one-time, anonymous mistake. But a week later, my mom called, buzzing with excitement. Someone was investing in our family business, paying off all our debts, saving us. And he was coming for dinner.
My stomach dropped when I heard his voice. Ethan Hayes, impeccably tailored, stood in our living room. His eyes, dark and intense, held a spark of knowing amusement that made my blood run cold. He saw me, and he remembered everything.
Dinner was torture. My parents adored him, completely oblivious to the suffocating tension. "It's always wise to remove unnecessary obstacles from one's life," he said, his gaze pinning me, a direct hit that solidified his intent. He was here to stay.
Then came the new neighbor: Ethan. He bought the apartment right next door. He was at my coffee shop, outside my campus art building. Every polite refusal, every attempt to pull away, only seemed to tighten his web. I was trapped, and nobody else could see the bars of the cage. Rejected By Family, Reborn By Love
Modern Dr. Chen looked at my patent transfer agreement, concerned. "Ava, are you absolutely sure? This patent is your life's work." I was sure; it was my only way to shield it from my family. They saw my success not as pride, but as a resource for Willow, my foster sister, who masterfully painted me as selfish to my father, Richard, and brother, Ethan. My cherished belongings vanished, ending up with Willow, while my room-the one with the best light-was given to her for her "artistic sensibilities," banishing me to the cramped attic.
Then came the day I signed the patent away. I returned home to a surprise party for Willow, celebrating her art grant. They had forgotten it was the anniversary of my mother's passing. My fiancé, Liam, usually my partner, stood by Willow, his arm possessively around her. My father, beaming, said, "Ava, perfect timing! Willow needs your help. You're going to give her the patent."
I stared, disbelief chilling me. "It's a medical patent. It has nothing to do with art or business. And it's not for sale." Willow burst into tears, claiming Liam said I'd agreed to surprise her. Liam mumbled a pathetic "It's for the family." Then, Willow brought out a mango mousse cake-a deadly allergy for me. Liam, irritated, snapped, "Just for once, can you not make everything about you?" Willow, the kicked puppy, apologized, claiming forgetfulness, and turned to my father, who raged at me.
"Look what you did, you ungrateful child! You will sign over that patent and apologize to Willow!" When I refused, he slapped and shoved me. I fell, my face landing squarely in the cake. Anaphylaxis set in immediately. I gasped for air, crawling for my EpiPen, as they watched me-my father, Ethan, Willow, and Liam-all stood by, watching me die.
As blessed air trickled back into my lungs, one thought solidified: I'm leaving, and I am never, ever coming back. His Death, Her New Beginning
Horror The city air was thick with sirens, a constant wail that had become the sound of dread.
Thirteen brutal murders had everyone locking their doors a little tighter.
I never thought the fourteenth would be mine.
The call came just after midnight.
"Mrs. Miller? This is the police. There's been an incident at your residence."
I knew before he said another word: David was gone.
A cold, empty space opened up inside me, a vacuum where fear and relief swirled together.
When I arrived, the street below our penthouse was a chaotic mess of flashing red and blue lights.
Yellow tape cordoned off the building.
A crowd of neighbors stood in their pajamas, whispering and pointing up.
"I live here. Sarah Miller. My husband..." My voice broke, a perfectly practiced tremor.
That' s when I saw him: Detective Mark Johnson, his face a hard, unreadable mask.
He didn't offer condolences.
He just stared, his tired eyes seeming to miss nothing.
Then, a scream cut through the air.
Everyone' s head snapped up.
High above, on the balcony of our penthouse, a figure stood silhouetted against the night sky - Susan, my mother-in-law.
For a heartbeat, she just stood there, a dark shape against the city' s glow.
Then she leaned forward and simply stepped off.
The sound that followed was wet and final, a sickening thud that echoed off the pavement.
It splattered across the clean, sterile crime scene, a graphic, final punctuation mark.
I felt a genuine shock ripple through me.
My knees buckled and I grabbed the detective' s arm for support.
Tears, real this time, streamed down my face.
My husband dead upstairs, my mother-in-law a broken thing on the concrete below.
It was the perfect picture of a woman shattered by tragedy.
Detective Johnson didn't move.
He didn't comfort me.
He just looked down at my hand on his arm, then back up at my face.
His voice was low and steady, cutting through my manufactured sobs.
"You did this."
I froze.
The world seemed to stop spinning.
My breath caught in my throat.
"What?" I whispered, my voice hoarse.
"Your husband. Your mother-in-law," he said, his eyes drilling into me. "The other thirteen. You killed them all, didn't you, Sarah?"
It wasn't a question.
It was a statement.
A certainty so absolute, so unexpected, it almost knocked me off my feet for real.
This was not part of the plan.
No one was supposed to see past the grieving widow.
Inside, a cold, hard knot of fury began to tighten.
This man, this stranger, was looking at me and seeing the truth.
Or at least, a version of it.
"How can you say that?" I cried, pulling my hand back as if I' d been burned. "My husband... my... Susan... they're dead! I just lost everything!"
I let my voice rise, pitching it with hysteria and pain.
"Detective, have you lost your mind?" I demanded, my voice shaking. "I was at my sister-in-law's house. All night. Call her. Alice. Alice Brown. She'll tell you."
He waved the other officer off.
His gaze remained locked on me, intense and unwavering.
"I don't need to call anyone, Sarah," he said, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "I've been on this case from the beginning. Thirteen victims before tonight. A city in fear. But now I see the pattern. They all lead back to you."
His certainty was terrifying.
It was a solid wall I hadn't expected to hit so soon.
He wasn't guessing.
He knew something.
And in that moment, under the flashing lights, with the scent of death hanging in the air, I knew this was just the beginning.
The game was on. The Billionaire Heiress's Revenge
Romance The first sign was a text message glowing on Liam' s phone screen.
"I miss you. When can I see you again?" it read, from a woman named Sarah.
I was sitting on the edge of our bed, waiting for him, clutching the phone that held a history of his secret intimacy.
When he walked out of the shower, naked save for the towel around his hips, I didn' t scream.
I just held up the phone and said, "Her or me, Liam."
He chose me, deleted her number, and swore it was a mistake.
But the silence in our penthouse grew louder, his touch became a habit, and his eyes looked through me, not at me.
I felt myself disappearing, desperate and pathetic, despite being the heiress to a real estate empire.
So, I proposed to him, clutching at a phantom hope at a charity gala, only for his forced "Okay, Ava. Let' s get married" to ring hollow.
The wedding preparations were a blur of my efforts, conspicuously absent of him.
My friends and family saw the pity in my eyes, but I pushed on, convinced the vows would banish Sarah' s ghost.
Then, on our painfully beautiful wedding day, as the officiant prepared to pronounce us, a small voice cut through the air.
"Daddy?"
A little girl, no more than five, stood at the aisle's entrance, huge tearful eyes fixed on Liam.
His face went ashen.
He dropped my hands as if burned, turned, and ran-away from me, our vows, everything-scooping the little girl into his arms.
Sarah stood behind her, a triumphant, sorrowful look on her face.
He abandoned me at the altar, humiliating me for the world to see.
Deep down, a cold clarity told me this was always a possibility, and I was not unprepared.
Taking the microphone, I announced, "The groom has a prior commitment. Enjoy the food. Consider it a celebration of my newfound freedom."
I ordered security and called my lawyer.
They had robbed me of my dignity, but I wouldn't let them rewrite my story.
It was time to fight back. Victory in Obscurity
Fantasy The cold, tiled floor of the dungeon pressed against my cheek.
I could hear the sounds of a victory feast, the laughter of soldiers loyal to him.
My husband, General David, stood over me, his polished boots reflecting the dim torchlight.
"Worthless," he spat, the word hitting harder than the back of his hand had moments before.
He accused me of driving Bethany, my maid, to suicide, believing every lie she whispered.
His boot pressed down on the back of my head, grinding my face into the filthy stone.
"You will die down here," he promised, his voice low and final.
And I did, alone and broken, my last breath a ragged gasp of despair.
I opened my eyes to the dazzling white silk of a bridal suite, my wedding day.
The memories weren' t a dream; they were seared into my soul.
I was Amelia, an elite special forces operative, now reborn, sent back to the moment it all went wrong.
My fiancé, David, was now a charismatic tech CEO, but I knew the cruel soul beneath the expensive suit was the same.
Bethany, my maid of honor, my best friend, was the maid who betrayed me in my last life.
I heard her soft, breathy voice from the adjoining room, "David, are you sure about this? Marrying Amelia… she doesn' t understand you."
Then David's low murmur, "Bethany, don't. Not now."
And her whimper, "I love you. I've always loved you."
In my past life, I had burst through that door, heartbroken and furious, playing right into their hands.
This time, my hand froze on the doorknob; I simply stood there, listening to the betrayal I knew was coming, that had already happened a lifetime ago.
A cold calm settled over me.
There would be no screaming match, no public drama.
I turned away from the door, my plan for simple happiness shattered, replaced by a bitter necessity.
"Everything is fine, Marcus," I told my security chief, my voice devoid of emotion.
"Plans have changed. We' re leaving. There is no wedding."
As I walked away, the memory of the dungeon flashed through my mind: "You will die down here, and no one will remember your name."
A grim smile touched my lips.
He was wrong.
They would all remember my name. The $30,000 Breakup
Romance My relationship with Kevin moved at lightning speed.
Soon, we were talking rings, especially with my successful dad's generous offer of $100,000 for a down payment on our first home.
But the moment our engagement was announced, the trouble began, all thanks to Kevin's deeply resentful sister-in-law, Jessica.
Her jealousy ignited a bitter Facebook campaign, portraying me as a spoiled rich girl who' d never worked a day.
Jessica' s petty antics quickly escalated to demanding expensive gifts, culminating in a brazen text asking me to buy her kid a $300 PlayStation.
My fiancé, Kevin, simply sighed, shrugging off her entitlement, repeatedly telling me to "just buy it to keep the peace."
His spinelessness laid bare his family' s true colors, prompting my own dad to call them "leeches" who were "waiting for a handout."
How could the man I was about to marry expect me to bankroll his family's insatiable greed?
His chronic inability to protect me, his passive complicity in their endless demands, chilled me to the core.
I realized I wasn't just marrying a partner; I was being enlisted as the personal ATM and emotional punching bag in an unending family drama.
That agonizing realization was my breaking point.
I wouldn't just walk away from this toxic situation.
I would turn the tables and ensure they got exactly what they deserved. Love Beyond The Limelight
Romance My life finally had harmony. I was a respected indie artist, building a beautiful future with Liam, the kind, steady man who' d helped me pick up the pieces.
Then, a ghost from my past went viral: a grainy college video of me and my ex-boyfriend, Ethan Carter, pop royalty now, promising "Maythan Forever."
Suddenly, my phone blew up, and his name flashed across the screen. He was back.
The internet was demanding a reunion, but I remembered the sting: how Ethan, three years ago, shattered me, calling me "average" as he left me for his new pop-star girlfriend, Brittany.
I watched him publicly dismiss our shared history on national TV, only to have Brittany confront me, accusing me of playing games.
Then, she brazenly performed my stolen song on live television, a song Ethan had handed her years ago to sabotage my career, ripping open all the old wounds.
How could he, after all he' d done, act so clueless, so entitled?
And why did it feel like my every step forward was met with a new attempt to drag me back into their drama, to prove I was still just "average"?
It wasn't just about music anymore; it was about reclaiming my truth.
I knew then: I wouldn't just survive this digital onslaught.
I'd stand on that stage, in front of the world, and sing my story, not just for myself, but for every dream they tried to steal.
This time, I' d reclaim what was mine, with the full force of my voice. The Grave's Secret: A Second Chance
Romance Years after Mark Peterson' s death, I finally went to his grave, hoping to find resolution and move on.
But right beside his headstone, a new, chillingly familiar stone bore the name: Jessica Hayes.
My breath hitched-Jessica, his high school sweetheart, the very woman who had slowly choked the life out of our seven-year marriage was buried directly next to him, not me.
All the years of pain and silent suffering condensed into a cosmic joke, realizing he' d not just chosen her in life, but in death too, shattering my hard-won peace and sending me into darkness.
I awoke in a clinical haze, confused, only to realize I was back exactly seven years earlier, on the agonizing day of my miscarriage when he' d abandoned me for Jessica.
A fierce wave of clarity washed over me: this time, armed with the cruel truth of his lifelong devotion to her, I wouldn't beg, wouldn't cry, wouldn't let him destroy me again.
This time, I would walk away first. The Governor's Secret Pyre
Billionaires She was the quiet architect of his ambition, the silent force behind Governor Ethan Thorne' s meteoric rise, her family' s tech fortune paving his path to power.
Now, Nia was a ghost in her own life, coldly banished to the estate' s sprawling guesthouse as Ethan announced his engagement to Victoria Sterling, a well-connected East Coast political heiress.
He'd already orchestrated the painful alienation of their young son, Leo, and Victoria's venom grew daily, subtly turning Nia into a convenient secret.
Then, the unthinkable tragedy struck: their spirited seven-year-old daughter, Lily, was found drowned in the estate pond-a devastating accident, or so they claimed.
Ethan coolly framed his loyal chief of staff, but Victoria, with a chilling, triumphant smile, whispered the shattering truth directly to Nia: Lily's death was no accident.
How could the man she' d invested everything in, the father of her children, betray her so completely, steal her family, and then participate in such an unthinkable act?
How could a mother, stripped of her children and her sanity, endure such a cold, monstrous injustice?
Trapped and heartbroken, yet now consumed by a burning, vengeful rage, Nia found an unlikely ally in Jax, a defiant young street artist known for exposing the powerful.
Together, they unearthed years of Ethan' s hidden corruption-a vast, intricate web of deceit, graft, and power abuse that promised to unravel his entire empire.
Broken but unyielding, Nia made her final, definitive choice: the gilded guesthouse that was her prison would become his funeral pyre, a blazing testament to her unyielding fury and his impending doom. You might like
THE LYCAN KING'S TREASURED LUNA
Jhasmheen Oneal Narine never expected to survive. Not after what was done to her body, mind, and soul. But fate had other plans. Rescued by Supreme Alpha Sargis, the kingdom's most feared ruler, she finds herself under the protection of a man she doesn't know... and a bond she doesn't understand.
Sargis is no stranger to sacrifice. Ruthless, ambitious, and loyal to the sacred matebond, he's spent years searching for the soul fate promised him, never imagining she would come to him broken, on the brink of death, and afraid of her own shadow. He never meant to fall for her... but he does. Hard and fast. And he'll burn the world before letting anyone hurt her again.
What begins in silence between two fractured souls slowly grows into something intimate and real. But healing is never linear.
With the court whispering, the past clawing at their heels, and the future hanging by a thread, their bond is tested again and again.
Because falling in love is one thing.
Surviving it?
That's a war of its own.
Narine must decide, can she survive being loved by a man who burns like fire, when all she's ever known is how not to feel? Will she shrink for the sake of peace, or rise as Queen for the sake of his soul?
For readers who believe even the most fractured souls can be whole again, and that true love doesn't save you. It stands beside you while you save yourself.
My Luna Became An Alpha After I Rejected Her
infanta123 My Luna became an alpha after I rejected her : she was my Luna. I rejected her. Now she's stronger than ever and she has my son.
Amelia's world shattered the day her daughter died-and her mate, Alpha Aiden of the Red Moon Pack, divorced her to reunite with his ex-girlfriend.
Cast out, disgraced, and accused of poisoning her own child, Amelia was stripped of her title and driven from her pack.
The next morning, her lifeless body was found at the border.They all believed she was dead.But she wasn't.
Far from the ashes of betrayal, Amelia rebuilt herself-rising from rejection and ruin to become the first female Alpha of Velaris, the most powerful and respected pack in the realm.
She also carried a secret Aiden never discovered:She was pregnant-with his son.Years later, fate brings them face to face once more.
A deadly disease is spreading through the packs, and the only one who can stop it is the renowned doctor they thought had died. When Aiden sees the boy at her side-his eyes, his blood-he realizes the truth.He didn't just lose his Luna.
He destroyed the mother of his child.And now, she's everything he's not-stronger, wiser, untouchable.
Will she heal the pack that betrayed her?Will she ever let him near her heart again?Or is his punishment simply living with the consequences? 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. I Hid His Heir from My Alpha
Rabbit For two years, I was the Alpha's secret wife, a duty he resented. But the positive pregnancy test in my hand was a miracle, a blessing from the Moon Goddess. This baby, our heir, was supposed to be the bridge that finally mended our broken mate bond.
That night, he left without a word. I saw on a gossip site that he'd gone to pick up his ex-lover, Isadora. Reaching for him through our bond, I wasn't met with his usual coldness, but with her emotions bleeding through him-triumph and smug possession.
The next morning, I went to his office, ready to tell him about our baby, believing our child could fix us. But I stopped when I heard him talking to our Pack Healer about me.
The healer said I looked fragile, that he should care for his mate. My husband laughed.
"You seem to care for her more than I do," Demetri said, his voice dripping with ice. "Do you want me to give her to you? Take her. She's of no use to me."
My world shattered. I wasn't just unloved; I was a thing to be discarded. I looked down at the pregnancy report, the proof of the life inside me, and made a vow. He would never know about our child, and I would sever our bond myself.
I Paid the Alpha King for One Night
Rabbit For three years, I was the perfect, invisible wife. My husband, Jaden, called the songs I poured my soul into "trash," then secretly fed them to his pop-star mistress to make her famous.
Then one night, after being drugged at a gala, I woke up in a stranger's bed. It wasn't just the betrayal that shattered me; it was the soul-deep certainty that this powerful, dangerous man was my true fated mate.
I fled home in a panic, only to find a message on Jaden's phone confirming my worst fears. His mistress, the woman singing my songs on the radio, was pregnant with the baby he'd always told me I was too weak to carry.
The nightmare deepened when I learned the identity of the man from the hotel. He was Carter Mcclain, the ruthless Alpha King-and my husband's older brother.
He looked at me with eyes that knew my secret, his cruel smirk promising that my life was now a game for his amusement.
Jaden had stolen my music, my dream of a family, and my future, leaving me trapped between his betrayal and his terrifying brother.
He thought he had broken me, leaving me with nothing. He forgot he left me with the rage that wrote the songs. And I was about to write their final, brutal verse. 
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