Marvella
19 Published Stories
Marvella's Books and Stories
Rejected by the Alpha for a Fake Heir
Werewolf Five years ago, a silver bullet meant for Alpha Liam shattered my spine. I took the shot to save him, and in exchange, my inner wolf went silent. I became a ghost in my own pack—the barren Luna.
But gratitude has an expiration date. Liam brought Sarah home, claiming she was just a "designated breeder" for the heir I couldn't provide.
It was a lie. When Sarah faked a fall, Liam didn't defend me. To appease the Elders, he ordered me to be whipped with silver lashes.
He watched from the balcony as I bled.
Later, on the day he marked her, he drained my rare blood to save her from a "miscarriage," then handed me a one-way ticket to Paris.
"It's for your safety," he said, exiling me to make room for his new family.
I looked at the man I sacrificed everything for. He didn't see a wife; he saw a resource to be used and discarded. He thought he could break me and send me away quietly.
So, I gave him exactly what he wanted: a dead Luna.
I didn't board the plane to Paris. Instead, I let him watch the news report that Flight 815 had crashed into the Atlantic with no survivors.
While he went mad with grief, realizing Sarah was a fraud, I was in the North, unlocking the White Wolf he thought was gone forever.
When we met again, I wasn't his broken wife. I was holding another Alpha's hand.
"Liam Vance," I smiled, my eyes glowing white. "I reject you." Incubator No More: The Billionaire's Secret Heir
Modern I sat in the VIP waiting room of the fertility clinic, clutching the report that confirmed my implantation was a success. After years of struggling, I finally had a reason to make my marriage with Garnett work.
But when I went to find him in the lounge, I heard a woman’s laughter coming from behind the door. It was his mistress, Alison. I froze as I heard Garnett’s cold, dismissive voice.
"She’s just an incubator."
"Once the heir is born, we kick her out. The trust fund only requires a legitimate heir born to my wife. It doesn't require the wife to stick around afterwards."
The betrayal went deeper than I could have imagined. I soon discovered the clinic had botched the procedure—the baby I was carrying wasn't even Garnett’s. It was donor sperm from Sterling Sharp, the most powerful tech mogul in the world.
When my in-laws forced me to move into their estate for "monitoring," I realized I was entering a cage. Garnett and his mistress were paying the family doctor to inject me with hallucinogens to mimic a mental breakdown. They planned to declare me legally incompetent and commit me to an asylum the second I gave birth.
I stood in the shadows of the East Wing, realizing my husband wasn't just stealing my child—he was trying to delete my mind. The people I called family were poisoning me daily, waiting for me to break so they could claim a legacy that wasn't even theirs.
They wanted a madwoman, so I decided to give them one. I turned the doctor into my double agent, faked every symptom of a breakdown, and began building a secret empire from the shadows. Garnett thinks he’s trapped an incubator, but he’s actually locked himself in with a nuclear weapon. He Saved His Mistress, Not His Wife
Mafia I was trapped under a massive oak bookcase, my leg shattered, dust filling my lungs.
My husband, Dante, the Underboss of the Chicago Outfit, finally found me. But just as he lifted the heavy beam to free me, his earpiece crackled.
It was news about Sofia, his childhood friend and the woman he truly loved.
"She scratched her arm on the car door, Boss. She's hyperventilating. She won't board the jet without you."
Dante froze. He looked at me, bleeding on the floor, secretly ten weeks pregnant with his child. Then he looked at the door.
"It's just a broken leg, Elena," he said coldly, slowly lowering the crushing weight back onto me.
"You are a doctor. You know it's not fatal. Sofia needs me."
He ran to comfort a woman with a papercut, leaving his wife and unborn child to be buried alive in the rubble.
I miscarried alone in the dark, tracing the number of a divorce lawyer on the floorboards in my own blood.
Three days later, while he was peeling grapes for Sofia in a VIP hospital suite, I packed my medical degree and a single gym bag.
I didn't go to a hotel. I boarded a military cargo plane to a war zone in South Sudan.
By the time the Ice Prince realized his castle was empty, I was already thousands of miles away, and I wasn't coming back. His Wife, The Secret Forensic Genius
Modern My fiancé, Jameson Blair, married my twin sister today. For five years, I was a placeholder, a substitute for the woman he truly wanted, and I pretended not to know.
Today, she came back with a story of terminal cancer and a dying wish to marry him. It was a perfect lie, and he chose to believe it, shattering my world with three simple words: "She's Haleigh."
They left me on the sidewalk, an outcast from my own blood. My brothers, who once promised to protect me, celebrated the woman who broke me. They moved my things to a guest room, making space for their prodigal sister. That night, Haleigh gave me a "welcome home" gift—a box with a brown recluse spider inside.
As the venom coursed through me, my family rushed to her side, calling my agony "a little spider bite." They left me convulsing on the floor. Later, they whipped me for a crime I didn't commit, hung me off a cliff, and left me for dead.
My body is a roadmap of their love. Each scar, each broken bone, is a testament to their betrayal. They believed her lies, but their real crime was never truly seeing me.
As I clung to that cliff, bleeding and broken, a single thought consumed me: Isabella Douglas died here tonight. Now, Isabella Hale would be born from the ashes. My Ex-Husband's Billion-Dollar Regret
Mafia The last thing I remember is my fiancé, Cayden, toasting to our future. The first thing I hear when I wake up in a hospital is him telling the city's most feared Don to pretend to be my fiancé instead.
A doctor says I have severe neurological damage. Amnesia.
Then, my best friend, Vivian—the girl I considered a sister—walks in. Her hand is linked through Cayden's arm, her head resting on his shoulder. They look like a perfect, loving couple.
I hear Cayden's frantic voice in the hallway, not even bothering to whisper. "Please, Liam," he begs the Don, Liam Hewitt. "Just do me this one favor. I need a break from all her marriage talk."
Then his voice turns slick with temptation. "As her 'fiancé,' you can finally get her to sign the demolition agreement for the Owen manor. She'll do anything you ask."
My heart turns to a pile of cold, dead ash. The man I loved and the woman I trusted didn't just betray me. They tried to erase me.
When they all step back into my room, I steady myself. I look past Cayden, past Vivian, and fix my eyes on the most dangerous man in the city.
A faint smile touches my lips. "Only you feel familiar," I say to Liam Hewitt, my voice a soft, broken thing.
"Fiancé," I say, the word tasting like poison and opportunity. "I'm sorry, I seem to have forgotten your name. Take me home." Eight Years, One Betrayal
Romance For eight years, I, Chloe Davis, lived in the shadows, pouring my soul into Liam Stone's music, ghostwriting his hits, and supporting his every dream. I was his secret girlfriend, enduring hidden holidays and hushed dinners, all for the promise that one day, he' d reveal me as the woman he loved. Tonight was supposed to be that night.
But as Liam stood on the glittering stage of the Starlight Music Awards, clutching the "Best New Artist" trophy, his eyes scanned the crowd not for me, but for stunning, famous Scarlett Blake. "My inspiration, my muse," he declared, beaming at her. Then, the crushing blow: "Scarlett, darling, once I solidify my A-list status, I' m yours forever."
My world went silent. The eight years of sacrifice, my unseen labor, my unwavering devotion-all erased by a public declaration meant for another woman. He celebrated with champagne and victory, completely oblivious to the hollow ache in my chest, the numb limb that was finally acknowledged as dead. He called my quietness a flaw in his perfect evening.
He thought a diamond necklace could fix it. He thought his casual affair, texting Scarlett the night of his triumph, would go unnoticed. He still believed there was an "us." I didn't cry. I didn't scream. I just packed.
I was no longer the girl who loved him more than herself. That 18-year-old was gone. The 28-year-old Chloe, the one who just sold her entire song catalog, was done being a stepping stone. This was over. He didn't know it yet, but his secret weapon had just become his biggest threat. Comeback: Love Was For The Foolish
Romance My father, a titan of the tech industry, once saw me as his most valuable asset, meticulously grooming three of his brightest proteges-Mark, Jake, and Chris-not just for his company, but for me.
I believed their ambition was for our shared future, a future orchestrated by my father, but a brutal truth shattered that illusion.
In the cold silence of my car, after overhearing Mark' s cruel words, I discovered he saw me as nothing more than a spoiled princess, a necessary means to my inheritance, a prize to be endured for power.
The realization left me numb, transformed from a hopeful romantic into a woman consumed by a chilling clarity: love was for the foolish.
I died listening to Mark's laughter; the new Ava, resolute and cold, emerged from the ashes, ready to forge her own fortress, even if it meant a marriage devoid of affection, a strategic alliance with the formidable Liam Sterling, heir to a rival empire. Betrayed By Family: A Daughter's Vengeance
Fantasy My summer internship was everything: a path to my dream career in marketing, years of hard work finally paying off.
Then my parents dropped a bombshell. My estranged rockstar uncle was gravely ill, and I, his favorite niece, had been chosen to be his full-time caregiver.
They spun a tale of liver problems, but a glowing blue text only I could see whispered a darker truth: "They' re not worried about his health, they' re worried about his royalties. Rick' s music just got licensed for a huge movie. They want to make sure they' re in his will."
My refusal was met with a cold, hard slap across the face, and the devastating news: "It' s done, Chloe. There' s no internship to go back to."
They' d sabotaged my future, then casually explained: "We' ve already made the arrangements."
The email from my dream firm confirmed it: "rescind our internship offer…wish you the best in your recovery."
Recovery? What were they talking about?
They took my ID, my money, my car keys. Then I overheard my mother' s chilling words: "Rick' s viral load is extremely high… a little contact… a shared utensil… a simple solution. Once she' s sick too, she' ll have no choice but to be quiet."
My own mother was planning to infect me with HIV.
I bolted, running into the night, only to find my father' s mistress and instigate a chaotic scene, creating my escape.
But they weren' t done.
A viral video appeared, featuring my tearful parents. "Our daughter, Chloe, is very sick," my father stated, "She contracted HIV through a promiscuous lifestyle… she developed a severe gambling addiction. She stole all of our savings…"
Hatred flooded the comments. My name, reputation, and future were completely destroyed.
Who would believe me over my grieving, concerned parents?
I was utterly alone, but one thought burned through my despair: they wouldn' t get away with this. My Ring, Her Other Man
Romance For ten years, I lived in the shadow of Sarah Jenkins, the nation' s biggest pop star, her secret husband, believing her promise that one day we' d reveal our love to the world.
Then, on the biggest night of her career, accepting her Artist of the Year award, she dropped to one knee on live television. My heart soared-this was it.
But her eyes skipped over me in the audience, landing instead on David Chen, her manager, as she pulled out the custom-designed engagement ring I had made for us, for our future.
"David Chen," she shouted, "Will you marry me?" And he smirked, sliding my "forever ring" onto his finger, sealing their public embrace as confetti rained down.
Watching my life' s symbol of hope twisted into a grotesque proposal for another man, followed by her sickeningly sweet lie that it was "just a stunt" while David's clothes filled our closet, snapped something inside me.
The hollow ache filled with ice-cold fury-this wasn' t a stunt; it was a brazen, calculated betrayal, and I was just the inconvenient collateral damage.
Picking up the phone, my voice steady despite the seismic shift in my world, I uttered the words that would finally set me free: "I want a divorce." The Gumbo Betrayal
Romance The smell of gumbo usually promised comfort, a life I' d carefully built around Ethan. For five years, I' d sacrificed my culinary dreams, even Le Cordon Bleu in Paris, to be the quiet wife he wanted, especially on our anniversary. But instead of flowers, he walked in with a packed bag, claiming a "client emergency," his eyes fixed anywhere but mine.
Hours later, the cooling gumbo was a monument to my foolishness when I saw it: Sabrina Chavez, his high school sweetheart, flaunting him-and the designer bag he' d bought her-in a Napa Valley vineyard, captioned "#soulmates." His frantic call, whispered excuses about Sabrina "needing a friend," only solidified my resolve. "There won' t be a next year," I told him, the words quiet but clear.
He came home, expecting tears, but found me calmly eating leftovers, offering a cheap bracelet instead of an explanation. My indifference unnerved him far more than any fight, but he still couldn't grasp the silent fury beneath my calm. Why did his freedom mean I had to shrink myself? Why was I the one always sacrificing?
I walked into work the next morning and quit. It was time to remember the woman I' d buried. Paris was calling, and I wasn't just leaving him; I was finally choosing me. The Husband Who Died Twice
Romance I was still reeling from another explosive fight with my musician husband, Jay.
His dreams felt endless, ours forgotten.
"Another gig, Jay? What about us? The bills?"
Those cutting words, our last real conversation, echoed after he slammed the door.
The next morning, a call from the Highway Patrol shattered my world: Jay was dead.
A fiery car crash. Gone.
The grief was a suffocating blanket, crushing me under the weight of guilt for our final argument.
Months blurred into a silent apartment, his side of the bed cold, his guitar frozen in time, as I dissolved into a shadow.
Then, six months later, at a small music festival, I heard it – one of Jay' s unfinished songs.
My heart pounded as I pushed through the crowd, only to see him on stage, alive, disguised with dark hair and a beard, but unmistakably my Jay.
Beside him, visibly pregnant, was Chloe, his late friend Mark' s widow.
He hadn't died; he' d faked his own death, abandoned me, for her.
"Let her believe I'm gone. It's better this way," he' d whispered.
How could this unspeakable betrayal be real?
From that moment, the suffocating grief transformed into a cold, hard fury.
He let me mourn a lie, watched me fall apart.
It was time for the truth to be revealed, and for him to face every consequence. When the Sky Bleeds Patches
Horror The white light faded, leaving me in a Louisiana swamp, mud squelching under my boots.
My head throbbed, a familiar echo of the screams and blood from the last game.
The System' s voice, tinny and cold, declared my status: "Active. Choice: Continue or Perish."
Another round, another nightmare.
Our objective? Find "coverings" for Mother Hemlock, a decrepit phantom haunting a sprawling, dilapidated manor.
A biker, Jax, tried to defy her. In an instant, she ripped his clothes right off him, leaving him exposed, screaming, before absorbing him and casting him from a high window to become a "patch" for her.
Panic set in as we scrambled for scraps, but Mother Hemlock's demands escalated.
Others offered the wrong things – metal, useless trinkets – and simply vanished, their screams replaced by the rustle of her growing, tattered robes.
Our dwindling supplies meant our turn was coming, and we'd seen what happened when you had nothing left to give.
What was this impossible "covering" she truly craved? Through an old telescope, I stared at the horrifying truth: the moon itself wasn' t real.
It was a giant, grotesque quilt of stitched material, and her macabre collection was adding to the actual sky.
But a haunting Creole lullaby whispered a cryptic clue: "patchwork moon... in the water deep."
With resources gone and Mother Hemlock' s final collection imminent, I clung to that chilling song.
The sky was high, yes, but what about its reflection?
Racing against time, I plunged into the murky bayou, praying the distorted "moon" shimmering on the water's surface held the real answer, the last hope to escape this horrifying, stitched fate. The Lies She Built
Modern My life as a carpenter was hard, but simple, built on providing for my wife, Kate, and our son, Ethan, who worked tirelessly delivering food to help our "struggling" family.
Kate always said we were barely scraping by, and I believed her.
One phone call changed everything: a cop on the line, "Mr. Peterson? There's been an accident involving your son, Ethan."
My world shattered.
Ethan, my brilliant, hardworking son, was dead-a hit-and-run victim.
But as I reeled, Kate was cold, distant, her phone leading me to an Instagram post where she beamed at a lavish gala.
She was celebrating with Liam Carter and his entitled son, Josh, next to a new sports car, their "bright future."
My son was gone, and my wife was living a shocking, joyful lie.
The truth emerged from hushed words: Kate had a massive secret fortune, bankrolling Josh, while Ethan, unaware of her deceit, worked himself to death.
My son died trying to help us, and his inheritance effectively funded his killer.
The betrayal was a burning poison, consuming my grief.
The final, brutal revelation came in a hospital corridor: Josh, Kate's spoiled protégé, had hit Ethan with the very car she'd bought him, all as I received my own death sentence-late-stage mesothelioma.
As police arrested Josh for vehicular homicide, I knew my life was over, but Kate's twisted game had just begun. Unloved In His Own Home
Romance Ethan Miller, a quiet craftsman, was a phantom in his own mansion.
His wife, Olivia, and daughter, Chloe, orbited Julian Vance, Olivia's charismatic college sweetheart, leaving Ethan feeling unseen and unloved, merely furniture.
The call came: Chloe fell at school.
Rushing there, he watched Olivia and Julian sweep past him, directly to his injured child, ignoring him completely.
The rejection was instant.
Chloe flinched from his touch, whimpering, "I want Julian!"
Olivia publicly shamed Ethan for the accident, while Julian' s smug glances reinforced his inadequacy.
Ethan was an outsider, even in his daughter's pain.
Later revelations: Chloe' s "accidents" were deliberate, encouraged by Julian, confirming Ethan' s deepest fears.
Was this betrayal his inescapable fate?
His own daughter, groomed to reject him; his wife, a stranger to his agony.
What profound flaw in him justified such calculated cruelty, his unwavering devotion constantly meaning nothing?
Then came the final, crushing blows: his beloved mother' s sudden death, followed by his birthday pie – a sacred link to her love – carelessly devoured by Julian and dismissed by Olivia.
Shattered, Ethan declared, "I'm done, Olivia. I want a divorce."
He vowed to escape and find genuine love and a family that truly saw him. When Loyalty Ran Dry
Romance We were ten minutes away from getting our marriage license, for the eleventh time.
Just as we neared the office, her phone buzzed with a call from Liam, her 'sick' ex, instantly draining her face of color and her devotion from me.
She abandoned me again, speeding off to his side for what felt like the hundredth time, leaving me alone in the car.
Hours later, while I drowned my sorrows in whiskey, she called not to check on me, but to furiously worry about her image after I posted a raw, heartbroken selfie.
Her voice wasn't concerned; it was furious, demanding I consider 'her reputation' and 'Liam's friends' rather than my pain.
This was a recurring nightmare, a pattern of abandonment and emotional manipulation that had plagued our seven-year relationship.
Each time, her loyalty to Liam, a man who always seemed to experience a 'critical episode' whenever Chloe and I neared a milestone, overshadowed any commitment to me.
How could she continuously choose him, a man she claimed was 'just a friend,' over the life we were supposed to be building?
Was I truly so selfish for wanting her to choose us for once?
Her casual dismissal of my pain, declaring 'Liam needs me more, you' re healthy, you can wait,' echoed in my mind like a cruel mantra.
But this time, something broke inside me, and the weariness transformed into a stone-cold resolve.
The very next day, a life-changing opportunity landed on my desk: a lead architect position in Austin, Texas.
It wasn't just a job; it was my one-way ticket out, a chance to finally choose myself and escape the endless cycle of heartbreak.
I took it. My Stolen Kidney, His Shattered World
Modern I woke up in a sterile hospital room, groggy from what my fiancé, Ethan, insisted was a routine appendectomy. He sat by my bed, holding my hand, his expression a careful mask of concern. For ten years, I'd poured my life into him, believing we were everything to each other.
Then, hushed voices drifted from the hallway. "You drugged her and took her kidney for Olivia?" I heard Ethan's best friend whisper, furious. "Are you insane?" Ethan's ice-cold reply shattered my world: "Olivia needed it. Amy's strong, she'll be fine. She wants to marry me, right? This will be my gift." My breath caught. My kidney? A physical blow. The appendectomy was a lie, a cover for the unthinkable: my organ stolen for his obsession, Olivia Vance. And the baby? Olivia had orchestrated my miscarriage with "supplements"—Ethan knew.
Ten years of my life—my career, my inheritance, even nursing him back from paralysis after Olivia pushed him—all sacrificed for this calculated betrayal. He saw me as a malleable possession, his "safety net," believing I'd simply "understand." Even the nurses confirmed it: he'd been lavishing attention on Olivia in the VIP wing while I was just "poor Ms. Hayes." My heart splintered into a million pieces.
I meant nothing. Less than nothing. The organ ripped from me wasn't just flesh; it was the last piece of my foolish love, discarded. How could the man I loved, the man I sacrificed everything for, be so casually cruel? Could love be so utterly devalued? The agony in my soul was far worse than any physical pain.
Enough. My trembling hand reached for my phone, scrolling past old contacts, past pity. My finger stopped on one name: Marcus Thorne. He'd always offered quiet respect, a lifeline I never knew I needed. My voice, gaining a sliver of steel, cut through the tears. “Marcus, I need your help. Will you marry me? Today, if possible. Not Ethan. You.” The Silicon Valley Queen's Gambit
Billionaires Ethan was Silicon Valley's golden boy, and I was his perfectly coiffed, publicly adored wife.
He filled our gardens with rare orchids, a testament to his proclaimed devotion.
Magazines called us “relationship goals,” the epitome of a power couple.
But my secret app, “Relationship Insight,” painted a colder picture.
For five years, Ethan's emotional score for me never wavered: a paltry, comfortable 60 out of 100.
Just… comfortable.
The facade shattered with an unexpected announcement.
Ethan, citing a fabricated company crisis, declared a “strategic partnership” with his ex-girlfriend, Chloe.
Chloe would move into our mansion, taking over my roles.
My app now glaringly displayed Ethan's connection score for Chloe: a shocking, undeniable 90.
He framed it as obligation, but I saw the end of my carefully curated reign.
I played the supportive wife, inwardly calculating.
The humiliations became daily occurrences.
Chloe seamlessly usurped my philanthropic foundation, then our household duties.
Ethan openly prioritized her, leaving me to face public scrutiny and pity.
His mother, seizing her chance, bluntly questioned my lack of an heir.
At dinner, knowing my severe almond allergy, Ethan theatrically shielded Chloe from nuts, ignoring my very real danger.
My app briefly registered a 65 for him: not love, just a flicker of guilt.
But the true betrayal, the one that broke me, came from overheard whispers.
I listened as Ethan coldly confirmed to Chloe he'd deliberately sabotaged my fertility.
His “fertility boosters” were designed to prevent conception, to stop me from having a child that might “complicate things” before Chloe returned.
The man who feigned concern for my “delicate constitution” had systematically violated my body, my future.
The app pulsed, showing his score for me at 90 again, this time for "Extreme fear. Guilt of exposure."
His fear meant nothing.
My decision was now carved in stone.
I would not be managed.
I would manage this.
My way. No Apologies: The Hollywood Takeover
Modern I’d just returned to LA after 18 months off-grid, ready for a well-deserved break from humanitarian law.
My younger brother, Leo, a rising actor, needed a favor: appear on a cheesy reality show.
I envisioned a relaxing week at a ranch, a simple family obligation.
I was entirely mistaken.
I quickly discovered Leo wasn't just having career trouble; he was "Hollywood’s Prettiest Prop," drowning in online hate.
His self-worth was shattered by relentless "talentless" accusations.
Then I met Chad, the actor who publicly claimed Leo "stole" his role, and his sneering sister Brittany.
They wasted no time insulting my brother, questioning our family's very "gene pool" for the cameras.
Every show interaction fueled their narrative: Leo as the fraud, me as the "entitled" sister.
I faced public ridicule for daring to push back.
Then came the real threat: Marcus Thorne, a powerful executive, publicly hinted at activating a "morals clause" against Leo.
My brother's agent confirmed the studio was ready to discard him due to "negative publicity."
Leo, utterly defeated, begged me, "Maybe I should just… apologize."
Apologize? For exposing a rigged system?
For defending my brother against an organized smear campaign orchestrated by industry sharks?
My kind, vulnerable brother was about to be sacrificed for entertainment ratings and Hollywood politics.
This wasn’t just Leo’s career; it was about justice in an industry built on lies.
Watching his fear, I knew one thing.
No.
"No apologies," I firmly told him. "Not now. Not ever for this."
I fired up his dormant Twitch channel.
It was time to fight back, not with their manufactured drama, but with cold, hard facts.
I was about to detonate a nuclear bomb on Hollywood.
They didn't just pick a fight with Leo. They picked a fight with a Hayes. Loved as a Possession, Ruined as a Pawn
Modern As an architect, Ethan Miller thought dispatching Julian Vance, his heiress wife Tori's latest amusement, overseas would finally bring him peace.
Instead, Tori’s savage retaliation struck: a chilling video call revealing auditors in his innocent parents' Brooklyn home, a ruthless digital clock ticking down to their utter financial ruin.
Forced to reveal Julian's fake location, Ethan raced against time, frantic and desperate, to save his family's livelihood, witnessing his retired firefighter father suffer a stress-induced heart attack, a direct consequence of Tori's casual cruelty.
The woman he'd once loved, who'd put on grand spectacles of affection, revealed her true self: a possessive monster who saw everyone, including him, as mere "entertainment."
But as his father recovered, a forgotten prenup emerged with an iron-clad escape clause, prompting Ethan to meticulously gather evidence against Tori, plotting his ghost-like disappearance from her toxic empire, ready to reclaim his life and protect his family, no matter the cost. You might like
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.
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.
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.
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. My Alpha's Heartless Contract Wife
Rabbit "Anya, a 'wolfless' in a world of powerful werewolves, was invisible, drowning her sorrows and desperately lonely. One drunken text, a desperate cry for attention, accidentally reached the Alpha, pulling her into his terrifying orbit. Now, she's trapped, a pawn in his game, forced to warm his bed while he waits for his true mate, her heart breaking with every stolen moment.
As a 'wolfless' in the Blackwood Pack, Anya felt like an outsider, always yearning for a connection. One night, in a drunken haze, a misdirected text meant for her best friend landed in Alpha Declan Blackwood's inbox: ""Send me something hot."" Minutes later, the most powerful, terrifying man in the Pack stood at her door, claiming her with a possessive kiss that ignited a dangerous, unwanted fire.
The next morning, his cold indifference shattered her world. Publicly humiliated and instantly fired, Anya became a pariah. Her dying mother's urgent need for a million-dollar heart transplant left her with an impossible choice: accept the Alpha's cold, transactional marriage proposal or watch her mother die.
She became his ""placeholder"" wife, a contract, not a partner, all while battling a confusing attraction to the man who treated her as property. Why did he demand her, only to remind her constantly of her worthlessness, especially when everyone knew he waited for his true mate?
Her world crumbled when she overheard Declan tell his returning ""true mate,"" Kristin Larsen, that Anya was ""just a substitute."" Despite the crushing betrayal and a strange, unyielding pull, Anya, fueled by her mother's desperate need, vowed to survive this gilded cage and reclaim her life before she lost herself completely."
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? Fake Mating To My Ex's Powerful Enemy
Syliva.D All my life, I've been the backup daughter. My sister Beatrice got everything-love, attention, the golden child treatment.I got leftovers and reminders I wasn't good enough.
Until I discovered Niall,gorgeous Alpha from the neighboring pack,was my fated mate. Finally, my turn to be chosen.
God, I was naive.
Four years of engagement hell.Bleaching my hair to suit his tastes. Squeezing into tight dresses, playing his personal maid-only to hear I'd make a better servant than mate.
All because his heart belonged to my sister.
That night,I accidentally knocked over their picture frame. He slapped me. Hard. Said I'd never measure up to her.
So I slapped him back, tore up their photo, and accepted rejection.
I thought it was over. Until I caught them at the club, laughing about how pathetic my four years of trying had been. The whole engagement was their sick game.
Drunk and furious, I did something reckless with my mysterious neighbor. Alpha Hudson -face carved by gods, danger in every perfectly tailored line.
Most importantly, he's my ex's nemesis.
So? Best sex of my life.
I thought it was a one-night stand to forget.
Wrong Again.
He's richer than Niall, more powerful than my family, and infinitely more dangerous.
And he's not letting me go.
This time, I won't be anybody's second choice. That Prince Is A Girl: The Vicious King's Captive Slave Mate.
Kiss Leilani They don't know I'm a girl.
They all look at me and see a boy. A prince.
Their kind purchase humans like me for their lustful desires.
And, when they stormed into our kingdom to buy my sister, I intervened to protect her. I made them take me too.
The plan was to escape with my sister whenever we found a chance.
How was I to know our prison would be the most fortified place in their kingdom?
I was supposed to be on the sidelines. The one they had no real use for. The one they never meant to buy.
But then, the most important person in their savage land-their ruthless beast king-took an interest in the "pretty little prince."
How do we survive in this brutal kingdom, where everyone hates our kind and shows us no mercy?
And how does someone, with a secret like mine, become a lust slave?
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AUTHOR'S NOTE.
This is a dark romance-dark, mature content. Highly rated 18+
Expect triggers, expect hardcore.
If you're a seasoned reader of this genre, looking for something different, prepared to go in blindly not knowing what to expect at every turn, but eager to know more anyway, then dive in!
.
From the author of the international bestselling book: "The Alpha King's Hated Slave." 
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