Love Melodies With My Owner

Rejected by My Mate, Claimed by the Enemy Alpha

After ten years of devotion to my mate, Alpha Locke, today was supposed to be my coronation as Luna of the Silver Moon pack. A celebration of my unwavering loyalty. But just before the ceremony, I overheard him talking to his Beta. He called me a "barren field" and sneered that he was replacing me with his pregnant mistress, Debbie. He even made a bet that I would come crawling back within three days. In front of the entire pack, he announced Debbie as the new Luna, holding up a fake doctor's note as proof of my failure. When I tried to walk away, I was accused of attacking her. Locke's Alpha Command slammed into me, forcing me to my knees. "She has attacked your future Luna," he declared, his eyes filled with contempt. His final order was for the whips. Laced with silver, they tore my back open before his warriors threw me out like trash, leaving me to die in the forest. I blacked out from the pain and poison, only to wake up a prisoner once more. Staring down at me was the terrifying Alpha of our rival pack, Ron Moss. He looked at my tattered clothes and bleeding wounds, and his voice was a cold, questioning murmur as he repeated the words that had haunted me for years. "A useless she-wolf?"

Broken by the Alpha, Reborn as Queen

I was the Luna of Silver Lake, yet I spent my mornings cooking eggs for my Alpha mate while his mistress, Keyla, sat in my rightful seat. I endured the humiliation for the sake of the bond, until the day my mother found Keyla poisoning the pack's water supply. To hide her crime, Keyla murdered my mother in cold blood. I screamed for justice, begging Garrison to open his eyes. But he didn't look at the evidence. He looked at the merger Keyla’s father offered. "She's hysterical," he told the guards, stepping over my mother's body to protect his mistress. To seal their alliance, he dragged me to the Great Hall and publicly rejected me, severing our soul-bond to sell me off to a sadistic Alpha for mining rights. He expected me to beg. He expected the weak, bloodline-cursed Omega to crumble. Instead, I accepted the rejection with a smile. That night, I drank a potion to erase my scent and threw myself into the storm, faking my death. Garrison thinks I’m a corpse at the bottom of a cliff, and rumors say he’s finally drowning in regret. He has no idea that the pain didn't kill me. It triggered the ancient, legendary blood of the White Wolf. Now, standing on the ridge with a Rogue mercenary army, I’m no longer the wife who cooks breakfast. I’m the monster at his gates, and I won't stop until his entire world is ash.

Ten Years Of Lies, One Heartbreak

On my wedding day, my fiancé of ten years left me at the altar for another woman. He sent a simple text: "Haylee needs me." Hours later, that same woman ran me over with her car, causing me to lose our baby. But when I woke up in the hospital, my fiancé stood over me with a chilling demand. "Drop the charges against Haylee," he said, his voice cold. "She's too sensitive for prison. You're strong, Kira. You can handle this." To ensure my compliance, he threatened to release a humiliating video of my mother, who was suffering from dementia. I gave in, only to learn that Haylee had already tormented my mother with cruel whispers, driving her to suicide. The betrayal was absolute. He had not only destroyed my body and our child but had also orchestrated my mother's death to protect his new love. He thought he had broken me, leaving me with nothing. But as I lay shattered in that hospital bed, an email arrived from his biggest competitor. They offered me a new identity, a new life, and the power to make him pay for everything. They wanted me to fake my own death.

The Alpha's Rejected Luna: Carrying His Enemy's Child

My mate, Alpha Kaelen, was supposed to be my everything. But in his eyes, I was just a placeholder for the other woman in his life, Lyra. When Lyra claimed she was attacked by Rogues and pregnant with a bastard pup, Kaelen made his choice. He commanded me to tell the pack elders that I was the one who had been defiled. He commanded me to claim Lyra's child as my own. Then, when I discovered I was pregnant with our own pup, he gave me his final command: go to the Healer and get rid of it. Our child, he said, would cause Lyra too much stress. He gave her sweet comfort through their private mind-link while ordering me to kill our baby. I was a tool for his convenience. She was a treasure to be protected. But when his mother locked me in a silver-lined cell, leaving me to miscarry our pup in a pool of my own blood, the last of my love turned to ash. As I lay there, broken and empty, I gathered the last of my strength and let out a howl I hadn't used since I was a child. It was a sacred call for my family—the royal family of the Whitefang Clan—to come and collect their princess.

Beyond Betrayal: Finding Her Own Path

"I want the foreign correspondent position in the S-Region." My voice was steady, cutting through the quiet. It was a death wish, my editor said. But I needed out. My husband, Mark Johnson, had become a stranger. His world revolved around Sarah Hayes, the widow of his fallen partner. I cooked his favorite meal, waited for hours, only for him to say, "Sarah was feeling down. I took her to that Italian place she likes." My life with Mark was a slow, painful erosion. One night, I clutched my stomach, a sharp pain seizing me. "Something's wrong," I choked out, "Mark, help me." He sighed, exasperated. "Can't this wait? Sarah is upset." I left the apartment and drove myself to the hospital. "You're about seven weeks pregnant," the doctor said, adding that the pregnancy was unstable and risky. My mind reeled back to my previous miscarriage, two years ago, when Mark had been too busy. I looked at Mark, sitting cozily with Sarah on our couch, a portrait of domestic bliss. "The doctor said it was just a stomach bug," I lied, unable to bear their false concern. He then asked me to help Sarah cook dinner. I looked at my hands, raw from cleaning and work, and hurled a plate against the wall. "No," I said, "I will not." Sarah offered me an expensive hand cream Mark had bought her. A hot, sharp anger flared. This was my life; this was my home. I would not be buried.

The Divorce That Changed Everything

The "Brewery of the Year" award felt like a cold stone in my hand, heavy with the unspoken weight of my wife, Jenny's, silence. She was the General Manager, the face on stage, thanking everyone but me, the head brewer, the one who actually crafted the award-winning beer. I was used to being invisible, just "Ethan Clark, the technician," a replaceable employee in her eyes, despite being the silent 65% owner of the brewery I started with my college roommate. At the party, a sales rep asked when Jenny and I would start a "brewing dynasty," and she laughed a sharp, dismissive laugh. "I'm not putting my career on hold to have a baby for any man. It's not worth it." Her words hung in the air, a public declaration that numbed me. Back home, I found a package from a fertility clinic addressed to her. My heart pounded as I opened it. Inside, a detailed IVF statement confirmed she was one month pregnant. Then, my blood ran cold: the donor was listed as "Wesley Todd." Wes, her "gay best friend," the man with the pitying, contemptuous gaze. The pieces slammed into place. She stormed in an hour later with Wes, scoffing at my divorce demand. "It's not about the joke, Jenny," I said, voice flat. She brazenly explained her twisted plan: "Wes's family is very conservative... I agreed to be a surrogate for him. We did IVF. We're going to have a modern family together." The audacity, the gaslighting, the sheer arrogance of their betrayal left me with a wave of pure disgust. "The divorce is final," I told them. "And I'm selling the house. You have twenty-four hours." The next morning, they tried to fire me from my own brewery, strutting in with fake authority. That' s when my CEO, Matthew, finally revealed the truth to a stunned Jenny: "He was never just an employee, Jenny. He's the boss. He's always been the boss." Why did she, the woman who claimed "visionary leadership," never bother to check who truly owned the company she flaunted? And what dark secrets about her and Wes were about to spill out?

Too Late, Mr. Billionaire: You Can't Afford Me Now

The whispers said that out of bitter jealousy, Hadley shoved Eric's beloved down the stairs, robbing the unborn child of life. To avenge, Eric forced Hadley abroad and completely cut her off. Years later, she reemerged, and they felt like strangers. When they met again, she was the nightclub's star, with men ready to pay fortunes just to glimpse her elusive performance. Unable to contain himself, Eric blocked her path, asking, "Is this truly how you earn a living now? Why not come back to me?" Hadley's lips curved faintly. "If you're eager to see me, you'd better join the queue, darling."

Comeback Of The Adored Heiress

Madisyn was stunned to discover that she was not her parents' biological child. Due to the real daughter's scheming, she was kicked out and became a laughingstock. Thought to be born to peasants, Madisyn was shocked to find that her real father was the richest man in the city, and her brothers were renowned figures in their respective fields. They showered her with love, only to learn that Madisyn had a thriving business of her own. "Stop pestering me!" said her ex-boyfriend. "My heart only belongs to Jenna." "How dare you think that my woman has feelings for you?" claimed a mysterious bigwig.

She Took The House, The Car, And My Heart

After two years of marriage, Kristian dropped a bombshell. "She's back. Let's get divorced. Name your price." Freya didn't argue. She just smiled and made her demands. "I want your most expensive supercar." "Okay." "The villa on the outskirts." "Sure." "And half of the billions we made together." Kristian froze. "Come again?" He thought she was ordinary-but Freya was the genius behind their fortune. And now that she'd gone, he'd do anything to win her back.

Billionaire Boss? Nah, Just A Possessive Husband!

I just got my billionaire husband to sign our divorce papers. He thinks it's another business document. Our marriage was a business transaction. I was his secretary by day, his invisible wife by night. He got a CEO title and a rebellion against his mother; I got the money to save mine. The only rule? Don't fall in love. I broke it. He didn't. So I'm cashing out. Thirty days from now, I'm gone. But now he's noticing me. Touching me. Claiming me. The same man who flaunts his mistresses is suddenly burning down a nightclub because another man insulted me. He says he'll never let me go. But he has no idea I'm already halfway out the door. How far will a billionaire go to keep a wife he never wanted until she tried to leave?

The Billionaire's Secret Twins: Her Revenge

I was four months pregnant, weighing over two hundred pounds, and my heart was failing from experimental treatments forced on me as a child. My doctor looked at me with clinical detachment and told me I was in a death sentence: if I kept the baby, I would die, and if I tried to remove it, I would die. Desperate for a lifeline, I called my father, Francis Acosta, to tell him I was sick and pregnant. I expected a father's love, but all I got was a cold, sharp blade of a voice. "Then do it quietly," he said. "Don't embarrass Candi. Her debutante ball is coming up." He didn't just reject me; he erased me. My trust fund was frozen, and I was told I was no longer an Acosta. My fiancé, Auston, had already discarded me, calling me a "bloated whale" while he looked for a thinner, wealthier replacement. I left New York on a Greyhound bus, weeping into a bag of chips, a broken woman the world considered a mistake. I couldn't understand how my own father could tell me to die "quietly" just to save face for a party. I didn't know why I had been a lab rat for my family’s pharmaceutical ambitions, or how they could sleep at night while I was left to rot in the gray drizzle of the city. Five years later, the doors of JFK International Airport slid open. I stepped onto the marble floor in red-soled stilettos, my body lean, lethal, and carved from years of blood and sweat. I wasn't the "whale" anymore; I was a ghost coming back to haunt them. With my daughter by my side and a medical reputation that terrified the global elite, I was ready to dismantle the Acosta empire piece by piece. "Tell Francis to wash his neck," I whispered to the skyline. "I'm home."

The Mute Bride Is The Secret Mastermind

I was the titan of Wall Street until an indictment and an ankle monitor turned my penthouse into a gilded cage. To save face, I was forced into a marriage with Elza, a "mute" girl from the Schmidt family whom I treated as nothing more than a silent piece of furniture while my empire crumbled. The night I was poisoned at a high-society gala, a mysterious server in an oversized uniform saved my life with terrifying, clinical precision. They disappeared into the night, leaving me with a silver cufflink and a burning obsession to find the shadow who held my life in their hands. Back home, I took my frustration out on Elza, telling her she was "exhausting to look at" and "smelled like sickness" after her charity visits. Her own family treated her like a stray dog, trying to humiliate her at the next gala by dressing her in what they claimed was a cheap knockoff while whispering to the press that she was nothing but a high-end escort. "Stay out of my way," I would growl at her, never noticing the steel in her eyes. I sat at my table, watching my rivals' stocks plummet and wondering who "The Zero"—the legendary financial ghost—really was. I never suspected that the woman I ignored was the same one solving the equations that were currently burning Manhattan to the ground. The injustice peaked when Elza stood before the city's elite, not as a victim, but as a queen. She dropped over a hundred million dollars to buy back her family’s legacy, revealing a secret fortune that made my own empire look like pocket change. As I grabbed her wrist and saw the small red mole hidden beneath her watch, the truth hit me like a physical blow. The silent wife I had despised was the savior I had been hunting, and she was finally done playing the victim. "We have a lot to talk about, wife," I whispered, realizing I had been sleeping next to the most dangerous woman in the world.