Leo Fairchild
18 Published Stories
Leo Fairchild's Books and Stories
The Alpha Who Rejected His True Mate
Werewolf For eight years, I loved Alpha Ryker Blackwood. The moment the mate bond snapped into place, my whole world became about him. That night, I brought him his favorite cinnamon rolls, my heart pounding with the hope that he was finally ready to accept me.
As I reached his study, his thoughts slammed into me through our bond, a cruel, accidental broadcast. "Cassia Thorne will be my Chosen Mate. We'll announce she is carrying my pup to make Elara accept the Rejection. I cannot be shackled by a bond I never wanted."
The silver tray slipped from my numb fingers and crashed to the floor. Ryker ripped the door open, his eyes blazing with fury. He didn't see my shattered heart; he only saw the mess on his expensive rug.
"Useless," he snarled, his voice a low growl that vibrated through my soul. He slammed the door in my face, leaving me alone with the ruins of my life.
A moment later, my phone buzzed. It was a pack-wide invitation to a celebration. My public execution. The pain in my chest was a physical thing, the bond tearing itself apart as I realized the man fated to be mine had planned my ultimate humiliation down to the last detail.
He thought he was orchestrating my public ruin. He had no idea his chosen mate was a lie. And her secret was about to burn his entire world to the ground. The Billionaire's Fifty Dollar Runaway Bride
Romance To save my dying grandmother, my stepfamily forced me to marry the Blackburn heir, a man rumored to be a crippled, twisted monster.
Desperate to escape the pre-marital medical exam, I climbed out a bathroom window and stumbled into an adjacent hotel suite.
I begged the powerful stranger inside to help me, unbuttoning his shirt and snapping fake photos to trick my pursuing guards into thinking we were having an affair.
But the stranger didn't just play along.
He turned my lie against me, taking my innocence as the brutal price for his "services."
Humiliated and broken, I left a single fifty-dollar bill on his nightstand as a final insult before fleeing.
But my brief freedom was crushed when my stepsister caught me and dragged me straight to the Blackburn estate for the wedding.
The ceremony happened without a groom. My crippled husband was supposedly confined to his sickbed in the East Wing.
I thought I was finally safe, hiding in my solitary gilded cage, praying the monster I married would just rot away in his room.
But that night, the shadows in my heavily guarded bedroom shifted.
The stranger from the hotel stood over my bed, his eyes burning with a cold, possessive fury over that fifty-dollar bill.
"You think your invalid husband is going to protect you?"
As he pinned me down and my vision went black from the struggle, a terrifying realization hit me.
I hadn't escaped the monster at all. I had just paid the real devil fifty dollars to own me. Terminal Diagnosis: The Obedient Wife's Rebellion
Modern For two years, Constance Mcfarland played the perfect, invisible wife.
She woke up at 5:00 AM every day, surviving on half a cup of plain oats just to maintain the exact dress size her billionaire husband, Arch, demanded.
Then, the doctor handed her a medical report with bold black letters: Stage IV Pancreatic Cancer. Six months to live.
In a fraction of a second, memories of her pathetic existence flooded her mind.
She remembered swallowing her bile when Arch walked past her without a single glance.
She remembered biting her cheek until it bled while her mother-in-law publicly mocked her cheap upbringing.
She remembered constantly bailing out her parasitic brother, only for her own family to treat her like a disposable ATM.
She had starved and silenced herself to build a flawless facade for people who wouldn't even care if she dropped dead tomorrow.
The realization hit her like a physical blow. Why had she spent her only life locked in a gilded cage, shrinking herself to please a man made of ice?
The diagnosis wasn't a death sentence. It was a starting pistol.
Constance didn't shed a single tear. Instead, she went straight to the bank and liquidated every penny she owned.
She went home, threw her entire conservative wardrobe onto the floor, and fried a dripping bacon and cheese sandwich in front of her horrified husband.
"No, this is freedom."
Putting on a blood-red silk gown and five-inch stilettos, Constance smiled. She was going to spend her last six months burning the Ferguson empire to the ground. My Ex-Husband's Fatal Ignorance
Modern Five years ago, I was a world-renowned concert pianist. Now, I'm an auto mechanic with a mangled right hand, hiding from a past my ex-husband, Carter, dismisses as a "tantrum."
He drags me to a charity gala where his mistress, Alexandrea, puts me on the spot, demanding I play for the city's elite-a cruel, public humiliation she knows I can't perform.
When I refuse, Carter shoves me to the ground in a rage. He still thinks our daughter, Lily, is alive, and he uses her as a weapon.
"Behave," he hisses, "and maybe we can bring Lily back home."
Bring her home? The sheer ignorance is staggering. He has no idea our daughter froze to death in the same car crash that destroyed my hand.
But just before the gala, my best friend uncovered the final, devastating truth. It wasn't an accident. They sabotaged my car and left us for dead.
Tonight, I'm not just attending a party. I'm orchestrating a funeral. Theirs. The Surgeon's Debt: Bound To The Beast
Romance I was a surgeon on the most luxurious ship in the world, scrubbing my hands until they were raw to forget the name Ye Jiuting and the past I’d left behind.
But at 2:15 AM, Room 404 became my graveyard when a federal agent flatlined on my table, and the world I’d built turned into a nightmare.
The nurse handed me a syringe she swore was a standard antibiotic, but the ship’s medical files had been scrubbed to hide a fatal allergy. Before the body was even cold, the widow was screaming murder, and the ship’s foreman, Huston Lyons, was at my throat with a predatory grin.
"You killed him, Doctor," Huston sneered, "and on this ship, people like you tend to disappear overboard."
When I tried to prove the syringe was clean, Huston’s brutal grip forced the needle into my own arm, injecting me with a lethal stimulant that sent my heart into a violent, scorching frenzy.
I fled into the bowels of the ship, my vision warping and my lungs burning, while a ship-wide announcement declared a five-million-dollar bounty on my head. Every desperate gambler and debt-ridden crew member was now hunting me like an animal for a chance at a clean slate.
I didn't understand how the digital records could lie or why a routine dose had been replaced with poison. Was I a target, or just a convenient scapegoat for a conspiracy much larger than a single death?
Just as the mercenaries were about to drag me to a black site, Clinton Collier, the terrifying "King of the Leviathan," stepped out of the shadows and claimed my life as his own.
"She is my Caretaker now," he declared, wrapping a black silk ribbon around my neck to mark me as his exclusive property.
I had escaped the gallows only to be collared by a monster, but as I felt his madness recede under my touch, I realized that being his only cure was the most dangerous weapon I possessed. His Unwanted Trash, The Rival's Treasured Queen
Mafia Four years ago, I melted my skin into the asphalt to pull Julian Moretti from a burning wreckage. I spent years in the shadows, nursing him back to health, hiding my scars while he reclaimed his title as the Underboss of New York.
But on the way to our wedding, everything shattered.
Estelle Russo, the woman who caused the crash that ruined me, complained of a stomach ache in the limousine. Julian didn't hesitate.
He ordered the driver to stop on the shoulder of the highway.
"Get out," he barked at me, his eyes cold.
He forced me out of the car in my wedding gown, leaving me stranded in the dust and exhaust fumes just so Estelle could lie down on the seat.
"Take a cab to the church," he sneered before speeding away.
He didn't just leave me on the road; he abandoned me at the altar to hold the hand of the woman who had once tried to kill him. He called our relationship a "debt" he was tired of paying.
I stood there, the lace of my dress heavy with humiliation, realizing I was never his Queen—I was just his collateral damage.
I didn't call a taxi. Instead, I pulled a burner phone from my bodice and dialed the one number that would end his reign.
"The deal is live," I whispered. "He chose her."
I stripped off the wedding dress, climbed over the guardrail, and stepped into the black sedan waiting to take me to his greatest enemy. They Stole Everything: Now I Take
Modern For seven years, I was a prisoner in a wheelchair, and my husband, Carter, was my devoted savior. After the accident that stole my legs, he fed me, bathed me, and carried me. He was my entire world.
Then I discovered his secret: he was having an affair with Jade, the daughter of the man who crippled me. My "recovery" smoothies weren't for healing; they were laced with sedatives to keep me weak and dependent.
When I confronted them, Jade pushed me down the stairs. As I lay bleeding on the cold marble floor, I felt a sharp, agonizing pain. I was losing our baby.
Carter looked down at me with disgust.
"You're pathetic, Alayna. Stay here and rot."
He walked out, leaving me to die.
But I didn't die. My family found me. And as I slowly, miraculously, learned to walk again, the broken wife he knew was gone.
They took my legs, my child, and my trust. Now, I would take everything from them. Crown of Wrath
Mafia Amelia Hopewell was found by her biological father and brought home. That same day, she discovered a bodyguard, Edmund Nash, barely clinging to life after being tormented by the false heiress. She used half her blood to save him.
Later, when Amelia's father fell gravely ill, all the family's assets were secretly frozen by a notorious crime lord.
In desperation, Amelia sought Edmund's help. Instead, she witnessed the crime lord's second-in-command standing respectfully before him.
"Mr. Nash, if Miss Hopewell's father doesn't get surgery within three hours, he won't survive," the man said.
"The company's success owes much to the money Miss Hopewell gave you. Are you sure you won't reveal your true identity to her?" he asked.
Edmund toyed with an expensive sapphire necklace, his eyes cold and detached.
"For the next three hours, ensure Amelia Hopewell doesn't borrow a single penny," he ordered.
"Rosalyn said if Amelia's father gets the surgery, she won't let me step foot in her room again. What a vengeful little girl."
Amelia realized the crime lord who had been crushing her family's business for three years was none other than her beloved fiancé, Edmund Nash.
Upon learning the truth, Amelia dialed the number of her former subordinate, "I want Edmund ruined in three days!" The Man She Threw Away
Romance "I'll do it," I told my father, agreeing to an arranged marriage to save our failing family business. It was a lifeline.
But then my mother mentioned Chloe, and the truth, raw and ugly, began to unravel: my five-year relationship, the company we built together, everything was a lie.
I had given up my dream career, poured my savings and energy into "O'Connell & Davis Design" for a love I thought was real. But Chloe had always seen me as a stand-in, a "successful and stable" version of her childhood crush, Noah Vance. I discovered their secret chats, their intimate moments, and the chilling realization that my entire existence in her life had been a performance.
Even my grandmother's redesigned engagement ring, a symbol of my intent, was just another prop in her twisted game. She brazenly claimed it as hers, desperate to maintain her illusion.
The depth of her betrayal, the calculated deceit, left me hollow. My love, my sacrifices, our shared future-all reduced to a cruel joke.
In the face of her desperate attempts to reel me back in-her feigned distress for Noah, her oblivious claims of love-I cut all ties, walked away from our shared life, and embraced a future with the formidable Isabella Rossi, a woman who had seen my worth all along. Her Second Chance at Vengeance
Romance The last thing I remembered was the cold, my body broken, kneeling in the snow at Chloe Davis' s memorial. I was Olivia Reynolds, a tech heiress who gave everything for Julian Thorne, only for him to shatter my soul.
He built a digital shrine to his "dead" ex-girlfriend in our home, forcing me to chant repentance for sins I didn' t commit, mourning a woman whose supposed death catalyzed his public transformation into a guru. This relentless torment led to my miscarriage, the loss of our unborn child, and ultimately, my own lonely death.
Then, I opened my eyes. I was back in the bridal suite of the Grand Astoria Hotel, on my wedding day, the scent of gardenias filling the air. The day it all began, again.
Julian walked in, his charming smile now turning my stomach. "Olivia, my love," he said, "I need to talk to you about Chloe." He spun the same manipulative tale from my past life, claiming Chloe was leaving the country forever and he needed to see her "one last time" for "our future."
He called it a sacrifice we had to make, together. The same sacrifice that had made me the lamb on his altar before.
I remembered his cruelty, my empty crib, my parents' grief, Ethan' s vacant eyes after Julian destroyed his life. He had been reborn too, and knew.
But this time, I wouldn't be so foolish. I wouldn't cry or beg. I would give Julian exactly what he thought he wanted: my blessing to go. Poisoned Love, Calculated Death
Billionaires The yacht' s engine faded, leaving me stranded on a desolate island.
My fiancé, Liam, and my adoptive sister, Brittany, had promised a celebratory pre-wedding adventure, but they left me there to die.
For ten agonizing days, the emergency beacon on the smartwatch Liam gave me, supposedly a symbol of his protection, blinked unseen.
He ignored my desperate signal, the battery dying, my hope dwindling with each passing hour.
My leg was shattered, twisted at an unnatural angle from a wild boar attack, leaving me crippled and starving, death a patient shadow.
Then, a man emerged from the jungle, a rugged survivalist named Jax, who became my savior, tending my wounds and feeding me.
I fell for him, hard and fast, believing fate had replaced a false love with a real one.
One night, the pulsing light of a satellite phone deep in the jungle shattered that illusion.
I crawled to his hidden bunker, and heard Jax–whose real name was Jason Cole–reporting to Brittany, confirming my worst fears.
"I need to stay here to ensure she doesn' t escape and challenge the heiress for her inheritance," he said, his voice cold and professional.
Brittany' s chilling reply echoed through the night: "Just make sure it' s clean. No traces. The island will take care of the rest."
My savior was my jailer, every kind gesture a calculated lie, every moment a performance.
He was poisoning my wound, making sure the island would be blamed for my slow, agonizing death.
But I wasn't just a victim; I was an architect, and I could build a storm.
Sneaking into his high-tech bunker, I manipulated satellite weather data, designing a phantom hurricane aimed directly at the island.
My fabricated storm was my only ticket off this island, but first, I had to survive the real monster trapped with me. When the Dutiful Wife Unveils Her Trap
Billionaires For years, I played the part of the dutiful, soft-spoken wife, even though my family's wealth could buy and sell my husband's entire town.
I worked a low-paying job, pretending every dollar counted, all to soothe Brian's fragile ego as we saved for our daughter Stella's private school.
Then, a cold notification shattered the illusion: our $150,000 in savings was gone.
Brian flinched, then confessed: he'd given every penny to his mother, not for an emergency, but to buy a house for his deadbeat brother, Ryan, and his pregnant fiancée, Gabrielle.
My daughter's future, sacrificed for their shameless greed.
But instead of the tears and accusations Brian expected, a calm, terrible clarity washed over me.
I smiled, a slow, understanding smile, and pretended it was "just money."
As his family's demands for a lavish wedding escalated-a Tiffany ring, the Four Seasons, a luxury car-I played along, promising my "uncle's" company would handle it.
Then, I unveiled my masterpiece: a "fake divorce" to access a multi-million-dollar trust fund, a lie so tantalizing even Brian's avaricious mother mortgaged her house for the wedding deposits.
They thought they were fleecing a naive fool.
They had no idea they were walking into a meticulously laid trap, designed to utterly ruin them.
Tonight, at the wedding, the truth will come out, and they will pay for every penny. Scarlett's Shadow: A Broken Man's Redemption
Modern The wedding ring was still cold on my finger when Scarlett, my brand new wife, tossed her phone on the bed.
Our Hawaii honeymoon?
Canceled.
A "business opportunity" came up, she said, already pulling out a sleek black dress.
Just a few hours after saying "I do," my world was already shrinking to fit hers.
Then came the real unraveling.
Left behind in a chaotic foreign riot by the very woman I married and her trusted assistant, I survived hell.
I was beaten, starved, and left for dead.
When I finally crawled back home, battered and scarred, Scarlett didn't offer comfort – she threw stale pretzels at me and watched with disgust as I ate them off the floor like an animal.
Later, she even shoved me down a flight of stairs, leaving me with a ruptured spleen.
My life, my love, my very existence was just an inconvenient asset to her.
How could the woman I' d loved my entire life treat me like garbage, or worse, a public relations problem?
Why was I always the one left broken while she walked away clean?
But when her assistant, Dylan, showed up to gloat about orchestrating my near-death experience, confessing every twisted detail of his plan to get rid of me right in front of Scarlett, everything changed.
He thought he had manipulated them both, but he made one fatal mistake.
Scarlett had finally learned, the hard way, who the real villain was.
And now, it was her turn to decide who she was. From Naive to Ruthless
Romance The bell above my clinic door jingled.
I was Dr. Hayes, a woman who' d finally built a life, a stable family.
Pregnant with our planned baby, I believed my husband, Mark, was as excited as I was.
Then Chloe, a seemingly confident student, walked in with a smile that felt sharp, unpleasant.
"I'm Chloe. Mark's student," she stated, then pushed up her sleeve.
There, a fresh tattoo: an infinity symbol intertwined with our anniversary date.
"Mark got one too," she purred, "Matching. Cute, right? He said it symbolized forever. Our forever."
My stomach clenched, the air left my lungs.
That night, Mark played the doting husband, his hand resting on my pregnant belly.
But I smelled her perfume, faintly.
Days later, I watched on our car's security camera as Mark drove to Chloe's apartment, not a "faculty meeting."
I heard him tell her, "Poor Evie. So trusting... Evie' s predictable, a bit naive."
He laughed with her, calling my past, my pain, "clingy."
Then came Chloe' s texts: a photo of Mark in her bed, followed by a box of my childhood cookies.
"He got them for me," she wrote, "Said they reminded him of sweet, innocent things. Guess I' m his new sweet thing."
He saw me as the damaged girl from the group home, easily fooled, not the woman I'd become.
The man I believed saved me from my past used it to mock me with his mistress.
How could I bring our baby into a home built on such casual, callous lies?
The trusting, hopeful Evie was gone.
I called a clinic, then a ruthless lawyer.
This time, I was playing for keeps. Breaking Free From Her Chains
Modern Ethan Miller stared at divorce papers, trapped in a marriage that promised everything but delivered only a polite, desolate void.
For years, his wife, Ava Harrison, remained an untouchable enigma, her dedication to charity work a fortress against intimacy.
Then, a soft sigh from her private "sanctuary" – the music room – shattered the façade.
Ethan found Ava enraptured, whispering Liam's name, clutching a silver toy, surrounded by childhood photos of her adopted brother, exposing a dark, incestuous truth.
This wasn't just bizarre; it explained his unconsummated marriage, his role as a convenient "prop."
Later, Liam, her enabler, attacked Ethan with a broken bottle, then brutally beat him, while Ava prioritized her brother and the family name, dismissing Ethan's agony as "accidents."
Why was he a fool, discarded and abused, while his wife protected a monster?
His love, once a perfect score, had been systematically, ruthlessly chipped away by betrayals, leaving only raw, unbearable emptiness.
With nothing left, Ethan signed the papers, packed his bag, and walked out of the gilded cage, finally free.
He chose a new life in London, leaving behind the chilling memory of Ava' s last, desperate text: "Liam needs you. Come back." You might like
Moon-Born Outcast: The Alpha's Broken Mate
Ghostly Mode Fear follows Alpha Samson wherever he goes. As the ruthless leader of the Blackthorn pack, he and his beast, Savage, bow to no one. But when a haunting scent leads him to a neighboring pack's dungeon, he finds his fated mate-bloody, broken, and chained to the wall.
Alora is a half-wolf, half-witch hybrid falsely accused and left to die. But her abusers made one fatal mistake: they touched the mate of a monster.
Rescued by the fierce Alpha, Alora begins a journey of healing that uncovers a lifetime of lies. She isn't just a survivor; she's a weapon. Together, Samson and Alora will unleash hell on those who wronged her, unearthing dark family secrets and claiming the crown that was stolen from her birth. His Defiant Mate: The Lycan King's Chosen Luna
MAINUMBY I was waiting at the Registry Hall to formalize my mate bond with Gabe, my childhood sweetheart and the Alpha of our pack.
He was thirty-two minutes late.
When I finally found him in a private VIP lounge, his hands were buried in my cousin's hair, their lips locked together.
Hailee was supposed to be my maid of honor.
Instead of apologizing, Gabe looked me dead in the eye and used his Alpha authority to publicly reject me.
The severing of our ten-year bond tore my soul apart, but the nightmare didn't stop there.
My grandfather immediately called, demanding I clean up a mess Hailee had made.
When I refused, he disowned me on the spot, froze every single one of my bank accounts, and stripped me of my family name.
Within hours, my entire pack erased my existence, gleefully announcing Hailee as their new Luna.
I had given my entire life to a family and a man who discarded me like worthless trash the second I became inconvenient.
I was left broken, humiliated, and utterly penniless in the blink of an eye.
But as I stumbled out of that sterile hall, a terrifyingly beautiful stranger stepped out of the shadows, radiating a primal power that made my knees weak.
He was Caden Sinclair, the ruthless Lycan King, and he was dodging a forced political union of his own.
"You need a shield. I need a wife. Marry me."
Without hesitation, I signed the Eternal Vow. The Alpha's Discarded Luna
Velvet Piston I was three months pregnant when the car hit me.
Lying there, barely hanging on, I called my husband-Alpha Ethan-over and over. No answer. When I finally woke up from the pain, I saw a post from his first love, Ivy. "Thank you, Alpha, for knowing how scared I am of the dark and staying with me all night. He even cleared his whole schedule today to take me to the auction, just to give me the best gift in the world. I'm so happy!"
Right then, it hit me. While I was fighting to protect our child, he was with another she-wolf. I calmly liked her post and put my phone away.
Since he chose his first love, I chose to let go.
Seven days from now, I'd leave his world for good-with our child. Alpha's Regret: The Hybrid's Royal Contract
Lila For years, Elara Park endured being called "half-breed" and "weak blood" at pack meetings. Because she was a hybrid wolf, she trusted Zack Blackwood's sweet promises.
Then he rejected their fated mate bond moments after claiming her body.
Before she could even breathe through the soul-crushing agony, the news was already celebrating his engagement to her vindictive stepsister, Selina. The headlines gushed about their "perfect pureblooded union."
Her mother's call came like a final blow: "Elara, you're twenty-three now. It's time you contributed to the family."
Marry the worthless second son of a prominent Alpha family or lose her father's empire forever. They had her trapped, ready to steal her birthright and leave her powerless.
But as the heartbreak bled out, ice-cold determination took its place.
Elara went to the arranged meeting at the city's most exclusive club, determined to turn her mother's matchmaking scheme to her advantage. She would agree to marriage-but on her own terms.
When she found who she believed was Damian Sterling in the private suite, she cut straight to business: a contract marriage with clear boundaries, separate lives, and a guaranteed escape route.
What she didn't know? The devastatingly dangerous man who'd just signed her contract with a predator's smile wasn't the pathetic playboy she expected.
He was Dominic Wolfe-the Alpha King who'd been relentlessly hunting her for years.
And now, she'd just signed herself over to him completely. From Wolfless Omega To The Rival Alpha's Queen
Jun Shangye For three years, I poured my blood, sweat, and tears into building Blackwood Group for Alec, my Alpha and the man I thought was my mate.
But on the day of our work anniversary, I stood outside his office door and heard him talking with his Beta, shattering my entire world.
"Kay is just a wolfless Omega, useful for paperwork," Alec sneered coldly.
"The bonding ceremony is just a show for the elders. The real Luna, the one who carries the bloodline that matters, is Breanne. I'm transferring all of Kay's core project files to Breanne tomorrow. Let her take the credit."
He even texted me later, telling me to wear a blue dress to the upcoming gala because it made me look "obedient."
I had turned down a Wharton scholarship for this man. I had spent countless nights fixing his mistakes, building his empire, and giving him my youth.
Yet to him, I was nothing but a disposable placeholder, expected to smile and bow while another woman stole my life's work and my place by his side.
The agonizing pain in my chest didn't break me; it forged me into ice.
I didn't cry, and I certainly didn't beg.
Instead, I wiped his servers clean of every strategy I had ever created, left a wax-sealed resignation on his desk, and accepted a job offer from his most ruthless rival. The Heir He Denied
zibya "I reject you," Alpha Damon sneered, looking down at the shivering Omega. "I need a Queen, not a servant."
Aria bowed her head and accepted her fate, but she took a secret with her when she fled into the night: the Alpha's heir growing in her womb.
Five years later, Aria returns to the city, no longer the weak girl who scrubbed floors. She is powerful, wealthy, and stunning. She thought she could hide from her past, but fate has a cruel sense of humor. Her new business partner is none other than Alpha Damon.
When Damon sees her, he realizes the mistake he made. He wants his mate back. But then he sees the little boy with his same grey eyes hiding behind her legs.
"Who is the child, Aria?" Damon growls, his possessiveness flaring.
Aria smiles coldly. "Someone you rejected." The Alpha King's Defiant Hidden Princess
Xiao Song Shu I died once before, framed for a murder that never happened.
I am Princess Fiona Avery of the Blackwood Pack, forced by my father into a political union with Bowen Mayer, heir to a powerful house. In my first life, my husband's mistress faked a pregnancy, accused me of pushing her into a lake, and watched as I was condemned as a murderer. I spent my final days in a mental ward, broken and drugged, until a lethal injection silenced me forever.
But the dead don't always stay dead.
I opened my eyes on the very day it all went wrong. My tea was still laced with sedative. My husband's footsteps were already pounding down the hall. His weeping mistress was ready to play her part.
This time, I don't beg. I don't cry. I don't kneel.
I summon the ruthless Gamma of the royal Shadow Guard. I demand the pack doctor examine his precious lover-right here, in front of everyone. I stake my life on a wager I know I cannot lose.
They think I'm still the weak, wolfless princess they once destroyed.
They have no idea what I've become. Forsaken By The Pack, Destined For The Lycan King
Escritorapalacio 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. Alpha's Regret: Losing His True Mate
Only_Shila For years, I belonged to him. Not his mate. Not his love.
But his bedmate. His Gamma. His shadow in the night.
Alpha Calhoun made sure no man dared touch me, no wolf dared look at me. I was his possession, his secret, his sin wrapped in skin. And I endured it all-his rough hands, his dark devotion, his kisses that tasted like fire and chains because at least, for a while, he was mine.
Until she returned. His destined mate. His so-called true love.
And suddenly, I was nothing. Cast aside, silenced, left to wither in the shadows of a love that had never been mine to claim.
But the thing about being claimed by a man like Calhoun. is that he never truly lets you go.
"Try to leave me, Elodie," his voice had been a snarl against my throat, his grip bruising my waist. "I'll burn down every border, tear apart every wolf that stands in my way, until you crawl back to me. You're mine, even if the Moon Goddess herself wants to rip you away."
He didn't know then that I already had one foot out the door.
And when I finally left his pack.
I took more than just my broken heart with me.