5049 Book(s) Related to triplet alpha my fated mates

My biggest regret? Trusting my husband with my mother's life.

The day the mudslide hit, I was on my knees. Begging him to send a helicopter.

He told me to wait. Twenty minutes. But when the helicopter came, it went for his adoptive sister Vivian instead.

I held my mother in the ruins. Her body was shutting down. I waited. Waited until she went cold in my arms.

When he finally showed up at the hospital, the first thing he said? Accused me of faking it. Said I just wanted attention.

In that moment, my heart died too.

Later, I found out Vivian wasn't even sick.

She said "I don't feel well"—that's all it took. And he left my mother and me to die.

Called me a lunatic. In front of everyone. All for her.

I was ready to leave. For good. Then someone shattered my mother's ashes.

I thought my husband was my salvation.
Until I overheard him in the wine cellar, laughing and joking with my "attackers" from that night.
The gang rape that destroyed me was a show he orchestrated himself.

He married me only for inheritance rights.
He humiliated me, branded me, took away my child, and made my life a living hell.
But he forgot one thing—
The ancient blood oath of the Corleone family states clearly:
If a husband betrays his marriage, everything he owns shall belong to his wife.

This time, I'm no longer the rabbit waiting to be slaughtered.
This time, I write the ending.

One month until the SAT.
Staring at my phone screen—at the pulsing number on "Oracle," the mandatory score prediction app that Elite Prep forced every student to install—I couldn't help but think it was all a joke.
In my previous life, every time I finished a practice test, this garbage system would automatically dock twenty points from my predicted score.
But skip class for a day? The number would mysteriously jump up twenty points.
Back then, I actually believed in this bullshit algorithm. I completely gave up for an entire month, watching that predicted score skyrocket all the way to 1550.
But when I finally logged into College Board to check my real results, I'd scored a pathetic 400.
And that brilliant 1550? It appeared on my stepsister Dahlia's score report instead.
Disgusted that I'd embarrassed the Wright family, my father Harold froze my credit card without a second thought and threw me out of the family estate, clearing the path for Dahlia to claim Grandpa's ten-million-dollar trust fund all for herself.
That night, homeless on the streets, I was cornered by some thugs in a filthy Brooklyn alley and beaten to death.
Lying in a pool of my own blood, fading fast, I heard Dahlia's voice.
"Your GPA's been crushing mine since we were kids. I thought you, the so-called 'Straight-A student,' were supposed to be so smart."
She stood over me, mocking. "Turns out you got played by a prediction app. Pathetic."
That's when it finally clicked. My Oracle prediction system had been completely rigged from the source code—by Dahlia.
I shot up in bed, gasping, my shirt soaked through with sweat. I'd actually gone back in time—one month before the test.
Right now, the Oracle widget glowed eerily on my phone's home screen, displaying a single number: 1350.

For three years, everyone at Spire Academy believed Liam loved me. Until I uncovered his secret plan: steal my academy recommendation to save Anna, and keep me waiting on the sidelines. He handed my future to another girl and threw me to a mad duke to be dissected. I escaped death by leaping into the Rift of Silence, only to be pulled from the abyss by Arnold, an ancient night lord. When Liam finally realized his sin, he begged for a second chance. But the girl who waited for him in the dark died in the rift. I have a new life, and I will never look back.

I died on the fourth night after Thanksgiving.
A blizzard had swallowed the entire town, and I was locked in an unheated attic.
My broken leg had turned black with infection. Every breath felt like swallowing broken glass. I tore four fingernails from their beds, but I still couldn’t claw my way through the door.
With the last of my strength, I held my old iPad against the frost-covered window.
On the screen, my twin sister, Lily, stood beneath the Alps, rosy-cheeked and healthy, raising a crystal glass. Our parents stood on either side of her.
My life was beating inside her chest.
The caption read: [Just the three of us. Finally, some peace.]
A single tear slipped into my hair.
I closed my eyes.
I had traded my life for hers.
Now it was time for them to learn how much that life had cost.

"Is lying the only skill you have left? Don't play dead until you actually land in a coffin!"
That was what my billionaire brother roared as he crumpled my stage-four cancer diagnosis and threw it at my face.
To him, I was a spoiled brat who needed a brutal reality check.
He engineered a fake DNA test, gave my identity to a manipulative orphan girl, and watched me get dragged to a disciplinary camp.
Now, he offers me an arrogant ultimatum: Stay quiet and wait half a month, and he’ll graciously allow me to come home.
I clutched my agonizing stomach and laughed until I cried.
Wait half a month?
I can't even guarantee I'll wake up tomorrow.
But I can't wait to see his face when he finally decides to forgive me, only to realize I've already been dead......

My sister and I both married the wrong men in our past lives. I was bound to an overbearing Lycan Duke, who saw me as nothing more than a vessel for his heir. I ultimately lost my life in childbirth. My sister wed a frivolous Fae Prince, hounded and tormented by his countless mistresses until she was driven to take her own life.
Reborn before our weddings, we bravely choose to swap our marriage contracts, determined to break free from our cruel fates. This time, we rewrite our stories and grasp the our happy lives .

I think I'm dead.

When I opened my eyes, I found myself standing in an abandoned amusement park, and my body was sitting on that slowly turning carousel.

I was only ten years old. I don't know how I died.

Detective Sarah, the blonde officer, promised to find the truth. So I followed her, watching her peel away layer after layer of lies—

In my diary, I wrote down all my fears and all my waiting.

On the phone, Mom sent that video of me laughing.

In the autopsy report, evidence of long-term abuse filled every page.

Mom had been saving money for three years, saying she'd take me away. That afternoon she picked me up from school and said, "We're really leaving this time."

Then what happened? Why did I die at the amusement park? Why was Mom's first reaction after my death not to call the police, but to—

I thought Mom came to save me.

Until I saw the text message she sent...

A past generations’ wrongful case makes Julian mistake innocent Sienna for his foe’s daughter. Exploiting her crush, he ruins her Cambridge dream on graduation night, destroying her family. For five years, Sienna works in a sleazy club to fund her sick mother’s care.
Their unexpected reunion leaves Julian torn between disgust and secret affection. When the truth surfaces, consumed by regret, he cancels his wedding and spends all his wealth to atone. Yet Sienna’s love is long gone. After settling her family with his money, she leaves forever.

I catch my husband in bed with the live-in housekeeper.

He shoves her behind him. "She's only twenty. Barely out on her own, doesn't know any better. Can't you be the bigger person here?"

His mother points a finger in my face. "You're an orphan. If we hadn't taken you in, you'd still be out on the street begging."

"Be smart about this. Make room for Kaylee, so we can all live under one roof in peace."

They've both forgotten that back then he couldn't even make rent, and I worked three jobs to build his company for him.

Forgotten the year his company was going under, when I ran to three different banks across the city in a downpour chasing investors, passed out in the street, and lost the baby.

Four whole years of them looking down on me after that.

I say I want a divorce.

Preston just laughs at me. "You're a housewife. Walk out that door and you'll starve on the sidewalk by tomorrow."

I drag my suitcase onto the overnight bus and go home to a place I haven't set foot in for ten years.

It's the middle of the night when I get there. The streets are empty. Three men reeking of liquor block my way.

That hand is about to touch my face when a Harley roars up and stops right beside me.

The muscled guy on it has a cigarette in his mouth. He looks me over. "Need a hand?"

I’m Wren, hidden sole heir of Ravenwood Pack, living as a regular lone wolf at wolf academy. My roommate Brielle steals my exclusive pine pheromone, copies my relics, steals my elite quota and tricks my betrothed Alpha Kane with a fake royal identity. I challenge her to present the unforgeable Lunar Pearl at the ball. When my father, the pack Alpha, exposes her family’s theft, I reject the misled Kane and reclaim everything the imposter stole from me.

For three years, I paid so my sister could rebuild her life — her rent, her lawyers, her hospital bills, the shop she now runs in my name. Lucas, my fiance, always told me it was the right thing to do. I believed him, because believing him was easier than admitting how tired I was. I flew home two days early to surprise him. Instead, I opened my own front door and found my sister in his lap, wearing my robe, laughing in a voice I'd paid to keep happy for years. Ninety-nine empty perfume bottles stood along the wall — quiet witnesses to nights I never knew existed. Lucas didn't apologize. He asked me to be more understanding. My sister cried and called me cruel. I stood in the apartment I bought, surrounded by the people I built a home for, and realized I had never once been the one who got to be loved first.

My husband, Roman, has a bad heart. Five years ago they cut his chest open, and after that I quit my job and stayed home to keep him alive.
That day I got to his office ten minutes early with his lunch.
Through the glass door I watched Brielle Nash, his assistant, pick up his pill box. Twenty-eight compartments. I fill it every Sunday night.
She flipped open Wednesday evening, tipped the pills into her palm, and dropped them in the trash.
"That's the one that makes you feel eighty."
Roman laughed. He didn't stop her.
Then she handed him the can she'd been drinking from, and he took a sip out of her hand.
"That's living," she said. "Don't tell the boss lady, though. She'd have me fired."
He reached over and ruffled her hair. "I'll lock it in my drawer."
My lunchbox was sitting by his elbow. He hadn't opened it.
Later I found the flask in that drawer. Supplement bottles. A keycard for a boxing gym.
And a key I hadn't seen in five years.
I didn't do anything.
I went home and opened the safe and went through fifteen years of marriage one thing at a time.
Then I started working out what would be mine when he died.

After three years of agonizing IVF, I was forced into three abortions. The reason? My mafia in-laws’ pet bird stared at my belly and shrieked, "End it."
Even when I was carrying healthy twins, my own parents held me down and forced abortion pills down my throat. My husband—the man I once took a bullet for—watched coldly. "Listen to the bird. Abort."
Lying in a pool of blood, I finally discovered the horrific truth. There was no "sacred bird." My marriage, my ruined womb, and all the IVF tortures were actually part of a terrifying conspiracy.
On my fourth pregnancy, the bird finally decreed, "Keep it!"
As the whole family treated me like a queen and rejoiced to welcome their precious heir, I quietly walked into the operating room.
Armed with lethal evidence, I crashed their grand succession ceremony.
You want an heir? I’ll send you all to hell instead.

I died on the night of my eighteenth graduation party, pushed off a rooftop by the two people I trusted most.

In my past life, I was the ultimate fool.

When my two childhood friends—both heirs to top elite families—decided to throw away their futures, I panicked.

They actually wanted to reject their admission offers from Harvard and Yale.

All to follow Lily, a charity case from the slums, to a literal no-name trade school called Sunny Valley Vocational Academy.

I begged them to stop.

I even used my family's connections to try and get Lily into a legitimate university.

But Lily wept in front of them, claiming my money insulted her dignity, and that I was just jealous of their "pure love."

Liam and Noah completely lost their minds.

That night, they cornered me on the roof.

"Vivian, you killed Lily. Go to hell!"

As it turned out, Lily went to that trash school alone and committed suicide.

They blamed me entirely for her death, nursing that grudge until they finally pushed me into the abyss.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the exact day we were supposed to lock in our college choices.

This time, count me out.

When my husband's eight-year-old "nephew" Noah was diagnosed with acute leukemia, the whole family begged for my help.

They needed my six-year-old daughter, Molly—the only perfect match.

Against my instincts as a head nurse, I agreed.

But the second Molly's stem cells were harvested, their gratitude vanished.

To avoid paying for my daughter’s mandatory sterile recovery room, Noah's mother live-streamed a crying fit in my lobby, accusing me of medical extortion. My husband, Grant, stood by in utter silence.

Without the isolation bed, my baby girl contracted a severe infection and died. My mother-in-law simply sneered outside the ICU, "Dead is dead. Better than wasting more money."

Three months later, Noah relapses.

Now, my phone is blowing up. The same people who watched my daughter suffocate in her own fluids are desperately begging me to use my hospital registry access to save him again.

Standing by Molly’s tiny headstone, I look down at the confidential DNA report I pulled from the hospital database.

They think I don’t know Noah is actually Grant's illegitimate son. They think I'll just hang up and cry.

Instead, I swipe to answer the call. It's time to make them pay.

To protect my older sister's piano championship, my own brother crushed all ten of my fingers.
To win my sister's favor, my fiancé hired someone to kick the baby out of me.
After surviving a fire that nearly killed me, I finally woke up.
And when I returned, I blasted the hard proof of their affair and their schemes all over the internet. As I watched them lose their minds, lose everything, and drop to their knees begging for mercy, I let out a cold laugh, turned around, and claimed the top of the world!

On our wedding day, Declan sent me out to Long Island. We'd been together seven years.

He said he'd left his grandmother's lucky cufflinks at the family house.

But when my car died in the storm, I opened my bridesmaid's Instagram live.

Declan was sliding my custom diamond ring onto Phoebe's finger—my adopted sister, the one with the bad heart.

My own parents were crying in the front row. My bridesmaids were cheering.

They'd turned my wedding into a dying wish ceremony for Phoebe.

Hours later, alone in the ER, I called forty-seven times.

No one picked up.

Not until after I lost the baby and disappeared from Manhattan.

That's when Declan finally came apart.

In my last life, my mother-in-law locked me in the attic, and my wife openly cheated on me with the neighbor. Even when I was dying of terminal cancer, they bled me dry until my very last breath! Now that I've been reborn, the extreme-heat apocalypse is just around the corner. In this life, I'm living for myself. I spend every last cent of my savings stockpiling three years' worth of supplies and building a heat-proof survival villa! Now I can sit back and watch my mother-in-law's family struggle to survive in the deadly heat. Beg on their knees for my forgiveness? No! I will never forgive them!

All I wanted was a quiet place to live. I drained my savings and paid eighty thousand extra for the one unit on the row with a private backyard.
On my very first day, I found my neighbor's son beating my new hydrangeas with a stick while his mother stood there filming him and laughing.
Bianca says the yard belongs to everybody. Her husband is vice president of the HOA board, so around here, whatever he says is the law.
I showed them my deed. I called the police. I sent a certified letter. Every single time the answer came back the same. This is a civil matter, ma'am. Maybe try being a better neighbor.
Then her son put a rock through my living room window, and the HOA fined me two hundred and fifty dollars for putting a lock on my own gate.
Fine. They want that gate open? It stays open.
I just made one phone call. A truck is already on its way.

On my birthday, I was dragged up to the attic and assaulted by several men.
I called my parents, brother, and boyfriend for help, but they all thought I was seeking attention and ruining my sister Sophie's celebration.
"Mia, stop it. We're busy preparing for Sophie's party. If you want attention, find another way."
This was the hundredth time they'd let me down.
But there won't be a hundred and first.
Because I'm already dead.

I had been Lucan Ferretti's wife for five years. I had also been the woman who took a bullet meant for him.
Four years of fertility treatments. Four years of empty rooms where a nursery should have been. Then, the day I finally get a positive test, I find something else: two secret sons, funded by my husband's money, waiting in a house I was never supposed to find.
Their names? The ones Lucan and I picked out together, years ago, in a hospital parking lot.
That night, I sat alone with the positive test still in my hand, memorizing the names he'd already given to someone else's sons.
I could have confronted him. I could have screamed, thrown things, demanded a divorce.
Instead, I find a text message. His mistress has already ordered a hit — on me, timed for our anniversary, dressed up to look like enemy retaliation.
She wants me dead before I can tell anyone I'm carrying his child.
Fine.
She can have exactly what she asked for.

Two years ago, my best friend Maddie knelt in front of me, crying as she borrowed $50,000.
The very next day, she vanished off the face of the earth. No explanation, no apology, not even a single text message.
I was left carrying her toxic debt. I lost my fiancé, and I lost my ability to trust anyone.
Until one late night, a call came in from an unknown number originating in an abandoned mining district in West Virginia.
On the other end of the line, Maddie said she was getting married. She had the money ready—every last cent.
The wedding venue was a ruined church deep in the mountains, abandoned for a decade. The time: Friday, midnight.

My downstairs neighbor tagged me in the building group chat at ten p.m.
His wife just had a pup, he said. Pups need moonlight, he said. So starting tonight, my private moon terrace belongs to his family.
He'd even pay me rent. Ten dollars a month.
For the terrace of a three-million-dollar penthouse.
When I said no, he reminded me he wasn't just my neighbor. He's my supervisor at the Calloway Group, and my probation review sits in his hands. Hand over the door code, or I'd never survive at that company.
He kept saying it. I can crush you at the Calloway Group.
Funny.
My mother owns the Calloway Group.
I was going to let him dig his own grave quietly. Then his family broke into my home, walked up to the one thing on that terrace worth half a million dollars—
And smashed it.

A hormonal condition pushed my weight to two hundred pounds, and for three years, this boarding school made sure I never forgot it.

The ringleader was the guy every girl worshipped.

And beside him stood his girlfriend, the one who always stepped in at my worst moments with a soft voice and a sympathetic look, like she was doing me a favor.

Everyone called her an angel. Only I knew the truth: every time she "helped," things got worse.

One day, she handed me a candy in front of everyone. "Here. Something sweet always helps."

I didn't feel like I had a choice.

That night, a demon showed up at the foot of my bed.

"Congratulations. You ate the pact candy. I'll grant you three wishes — money, beauty, lifespan. You name it, I'll make it happen."

My whole body shook. Three years of humiliation, and finally there was a way out. Wealth, beauty, revenge. All I had to do was ask.

Then the demon's expression shifted, eyes full of cruel amusement.

"There's a catch, though. The real pact-holder is someone else. Whatever you wish for, the one who gave you that candy gets double."

The words I was about to say died in my throat.

Then, slowly, I smiled.

Double?

That's way more interesting than three wishes.

The day before spring break, Cole Bennett asks me, red in the face, if he can borrow my empty place up in the hills for one night.

I figure he's planning a birthday party for me, so I don't think twice about handing over the code to the estate.

I've already decided that night is when I'll tell him who I really am.

Eight o'clock on my birthday, I push open the brass doors of the estate, worth millions by themselves.

Music blasts through the great room. The place is packed with people from school, all of them craning their necks, gushing about how gorgeous the house is.

I hold back a grin, ready to go find him and see what he's got planned.

Then I see her in the middle of the crowd, everyone crowding around her, glasses raised.

Sloane Bishop.

Five years in hell, my beloved and best friend joined hands to push me into the abyss. The savior I trusted was actually a deadly fraud. Reborn from despair, Vito came through the light. I tore apart the scumbag and the evil woman, settled all debts, broke free from the shadow, stepped into the light, and lived the rest of my life only for myself.

My husband's mistress sent me a video to rub it in, claiming she had just beaten my "pathetic, begging mother" bloody and kicked her down the stairs.
I froze, glancing up at my actual mother sitting right across from me, quietly sipping her coffee.
Bewildered, I zoomed in on the video.
When I made out the scar on the wrist of the woman lying in the pool of blood, a cold sweat broke out over my body. I frantically called my husband.
But he interrupted my plea with extreme impatience: "Shut up! Roxy was right to teach her a lesson. She was just taking out the trash for me!"
Since he insisted on indulging his precious mistress's death wish...
I wonder if he'll still be able to say she was right to teach her a lesson when he sees his own grandmother's corpse.

My dad made me a smoothie every morning for six months. I thought it was love.
It was a muscle relaxant.
He'd been slipping just enough into my drink to make my fingers tremble at full draw — just enough to cost me first place at every major competition. Not enough to kill me. Just enough to let Laurel beat me.
Laurel. His mistress's daughter. The girl he bought custom diamond jewelry while giving me clearance-rack gear for my birthday. The girl he wanted to drop into my family, my home, and my spot on the podium.
I found the proof. Stopped drinking his smoothies. Clawed my way back to number one.
Then, two days before the National Youth Archery Trials — the one competition that decides everything — he picked up a steel rod and swung it at my right arm.
My drawing arm.
The bone cracked. Doctors said three months minimum. My coach couldn't look me in the eye. Every scout, every scholarship, every dream I'd bled for over three years — gone in one swing from the man who was supposed to protect me.
Trials start tomorrow morning. And I can't hold a bow.

One of my employees went online and dragged me, claiming I'm making them sacrifice their health for a paycheck and forcing everyone to work over Thanksgiving.

Here's what actually happened. My company gives nine days off for Thanksgiving. Volunteer to work overtime, get triple pay, with a $500 daily meal stipend and a $5,000 bonus. No one gets penalized for not working.

The whole internet's tearing into me for making employees sell their lives for cash. So I give her exactly what she wants and send out a company-wide notice:

To protect employee mental health, the building gets locked and the power gets cut over Thanksgiving. No one is allowed to work for any reason. Anyone who does gets fired.

The minute that email goes out, the employees who were counting on overtime to pay their mortgages lose it. Now they're all crowded outside the building, begging me to open the doors.

"Happy anniversary, darling. Look what I brought you." My husband's snow-white python once felt like proof of his love—until I remembered dying with it wrapped around my throat. In my past life, I doted on that "gift" for an entire year, never once suspecting its true nature, while my husband and daughter quietly counted down the days until I stopped breathing. Reborn on the very night he presents that same box again, I swear this time will be different.

To win back his one true love, my husband sent me, pregnant and vulnerable, straight into the clutches of a rival mob's dungeon.
I was torn apart by vicious dogs, a brutal end for both me and my unborn child.
After death, my spirit drifted back home, only to hear him coldly chuckle, "Let her learn her lesson; she won't come back until she admits she was wrong."
It wasn't until a mangled, rotting body was dumped at his feet, and he saw the blood-soaked wedding ring on its finger, that this heartless mob boss finally snapped...

"Forty dollars. That's all the inhaler I needed to breathe cost. But in our house, nothing comes easy. 'Fairness first. Roll the dice — highest number wins.' I've rolled my whole life. I've never won. Not once. Tonight, lungs burning, vision blurring, I rolled for my medicine money against my sister. She got a six. I got a two. 'You lost, Hazel. Now go to the attic and think about your selfishness.' The door locked behind me. My chest is closing up. And no one is coming to check."

"Are you always this damn sensitive?" my husband snapped, his hands lingering on his ex’s waist.
I stood there, holding our 5th-anniversary cake and my pregnancy secret. He canceled our romantic dinner just to comfort her.
So, I threw the cake away. Next, I'll throw him away.

Married to the head of the Valenti family for five years. Kidnapped on our anniversary. Pregnant a month later.
Five paternity tests said the baby wasn't his. My husband got a vasectomy and swore he'd raise the child as his own.
I believed him.
Then came the therapy. The drugs. Nightmares where I was pinned down by multiple men, so real I could feel their hands hours after waking. I scrubbed my skin raw. Tried to end it six times.
He saved me every time. Held my hand. Told me no one would ever hurt me again.
Until the night I heard him laughing about it in his study.
The kidnapping was staged. The nightmares were chemicals. The DNA reports were forged. All of it — designed by my own husband to protect another woman.
Now I have a recording, a divorce agreement, and a very small box of ashes.
He's marrying her next week. I'll make sure he gets my wedding gift on time.

For nine years, I lived as my twin sister’s replacement Luna. I raised her pup as if she were my own. I treated that man as my fated mate. What I got in return was the Pack that unanimously decided I was the monster who “killed Edna”, and the sinner Ann swore should go to hell.
At Ann’s birthday banquet, I accidentally knocked over a framed photo. Ann shoved me in front of a room full of Alphas and elders, drenching me in red wine, smiling as she said I wasn’t worthy of touching anything of the House.
I thought that if I endured nine years, I could finally leave. Then Eric suddenly changed his mind.
Ann stuffed the corpse of the little bird I’d been raising into a gift box and threatened me with a sweet smile. “You’re the next.”
When I dragged my suitcase to the door, she shifted to wolf in front of everyone, slammed me to the ground, her fangs pressed against my throat.
What they didn’t expect was that my real backer had returned, the Alpha of the Blood Moon Pack, my biological father, David.

Five years, I bled for Dario. Took a bullet for him. Cleaned up his dirtiest books. Drank myself into the ER just to keep his bosses sweet.
Then he slid divorce papers across the table and told me to sign. His mistress was pregnant; the family needed a "proper" heir, and I was in the way. So I signed—and let him strip me of everything I'd built.
Three hours later, a rival crew ran his car off the bridge. He survived. But he will never father a child again.
Now he's pouring a fortune he can't spare into his mistress's baby, showing off his "heir" to every boss in New York. He thinks his bloodline is finally safe.
He has no idea whose child he's really raising. And I'm the only one who does.

Warning! Mature Contents!

Excerpt

"You belong to me, Sheila. I alone am capable of making you feel this way. Your moans and body belong to me. Your soul and your body are all mine!"


Alpha Killian Reid, the most dreaded Alpha in all of the North, wealthy, powerful and widely feared in the supernatural world, was the envy of all other packs. He was thought to have it all... power, fame, wealth and favor from the moon goddess, little was it known to his rivals that he has been under a curse, which has been kept a secret for so many years, and only the one with the gift of the moon goddess can lift the curse.

Sheila, the daughter of Alpha Lucius who was an arch enemy to Killian, had grown up with so much hatred, detest and maltreatment from her father. She was the fated mate of Alpha Killian.

He refused to reject her, yet he loathed her and treated her poorly, because he was in love with another woman, Thea. But one of these two women was the cure to his curse, while the other was an enemy within. How would he find out? Let's find out in this heart-racing piece, filled with suspense, steamy romance and betrayal.

---The game between Alpha and his Huntress mate---
---Who can be the final winner?---
---Who loses her/his heart in the game?---

“You know you never told me why you had those numbers,” Rogan said, “Do they mean something special?”
“We get them assigned, but I was able to decide mine,” I said.
“Oh? Why 110 then?” Rogan kept asking.
I smiled a little, and Rogan looked at me confused.
“It … it was my father’s number,” I said.
“I … I wanted to honour him, you know.
Rogan squeezed my hand and I looked up at him and smiled.
“You were a great hunter,” he said. “But now you need to be a great Luna.”


Her number is 110, her name was rarely used. But she indeed has a beautiful name, Serena. Serena lost her family at a very young, she hated all of the werewolves who ruin her life. When she was sent to kill the most powerful Alpha Rogan, Serena didn’t have any hesitation, Alpha Rogan must be killed.

Alpha Rogan caught the most unexpected prey, his mate, a little huntress. To deal with her was much more difficult than killing his enemies with blood. He knew she hated him and he himself should stay away from her. But he just couldn’t, he wanted his mate so much and never wanted to hurt her.

Everyone knows that the most powerful alpha in the werewolf world is Harrison. There are many legends about him. One of the most mysterious things is that he never announced his Luna. For six years, he hadn't talked about his mate, and no woman could get near him.
……
Six years later, Kayla. returned to the city where she lived. In one encounter, Harrison, with red eyes and a hoarse voice, pressed her against the wall and said, “Do you think your tears still work for me?”
Kayla looked down and did not speak. Suddenly a crisp child's voice sounded. “Mommy, what are you doing here?”
Looking at the little girl, his pupils constricted.
“Is this your daughter?” He asked.
……
“So you broke up with the father? He got you and dumped you and your daughter?”
Harrison threw his cigar into the ashtray, the corners of his mouth twitching with anger.
“Tell me who the father is and I'll make him pay.”
Kayla looked at the man she had missed for six years. She didn't know how to tell her that he was the father.

On the day Evelyn thought Liam would propose, he shocked her by getting down on one knee—for her stepsister, Samantha. As if that betrayal wasn’t enough, Evelyn learned the cruel truth: her parents had already decided to sell one daughter’s future to a dangerous man: the infamous War God Alpha Alexander, who was rumored to be scarred and crippled after a recent accident. And the bride could’t be their precious daughter Samantha. However, when the "ugly and crippled" Alpha revealed his true self—an impossibly handsome billionaire with no trace of injury—Samantha had a change of heart. She was ready to dump Liam and take Evelyn's place as the family daughter who should marry Alexander.
Yet Alexander made his decision clear to the world: “Evelyn is the only woman I will ever marry.”

She was the girl they broke. Now, she’s the woman who’ll destroy them all.
Penelope once thought love would save her. Julian the golden boy of the Callister Pack was supposed to be her forever. But one night shattered everything. Drugged. Humiliated. Framed.
Her best friend and her mate betrayed her in the most brutal way imaginable, and the pack she once called home cast her out like filth.

Whipped. Starved. Left to rot in the Ashborne Pack dungeons. Her innocence was replaced by something colder and sharper. A year later, the world thinks she’s forgotten. Forgiven.
They couldn’t be more wrong.

But when her father strikes a deal with Alpha Daemon Callister’s father, Penelope is forced to move into the mansion of her enemy. She swore she’d make Callister pay.

Her plan was simple: seduce Alpha Daemon, destroy Callister, and take back everything she lost. Make Callister jealous. Make her watch as she sank her claws into Alpha Daemon, Callister’s father. Cold. Dangerous. Untouchable.

She would seduce him. Use him and then walk away, satisfied.

But revenge turned into obsession.
Not hers. His.

Daemon wasn’t supposed to fall.
Wasn’t supposed to crave her like a sickness.
Now, he watches her every move.
Marks her skin with his mouth.
Kills any man who dares to look at her twice.

He knows about the age gap.
But he doesn’t care, he doesn’t just want her love.
He wants her submission.

Because now that she’s in his bed,
he’ll ruin anyone who tries to take her away even if it means destroying his own blood.

My hips work shamelessly, riding his hand as he sucks bruises into my neck. This dirty secret, this indecent proposition so at odds with my buttoned-up life. The light, near-cruel flicks, rip a scream from my throat as I shatter, my eyes rolling to the back of my head, my body locking down in a bone-deep spasm.

I just had sex…with a stranger…in a dirty back alley…


"Be a good girl. Good girls get rewarded."

Bullshit.

Being a good girl doesn't get you jack shit, but a cheating husband and piles of credit card debt in your name—credit cards that he used to pamper his side piece, the mock with I really want to erase from my mind from that bitch: Maybe if you could give him a baby, he wouldn't need to go looking somewhere else."

After years of negative tests, how cruel is it that one reckless encounter with a stranger could succeed where my marriage failed? A strangled laugh escapes my lips, edging on hysteria.


The sexy man with dark eyes leans forward, elbows on his knees. "Who I am doesn't matter," he says, the words echoing in the marrow of my bones. "What matters is that you, Penelope, are carrying my descendant."

"Your…your descendant..?"

Selene Adams was the orphan whom nobody wanted to be friends with. Forced to leave her home as a child and live with her aunt at a neighboring pack, Selene had no memories of the past. She made a plan to leave and survive on her own the second she gained her wolf. But what happens when the Alpha wants her for keeps and her real family comes looking for her, a family that nobody crosses. Selene is pulled in two directions and must make a choice, but unraveling secrets may cause her to lose everything as another Alpha steps in and staked his claim.

Brought up in a pack where she was treated no better than those of the lowest rank, Selene was at the bottom of the food chain.
Left there as a child, she had no one to turn to. With an Alpha who lurks in the shadows, watching her every move, Selene was never accepted. Believing she was finally getting to live a free, calm, and secure life, she had no idea that the Alpha she grew up with had his own secrets, just as her parents had theirs. Believing she was safe from harm, nothing could prepare her for what she was walking into.

He is watching us, Eleanor. Your husband, the man who believes you’re dead, is watching you like this… beneath another man, breathless, trembling, losing yourself across these sheets.”

His hand tightened against my waist, rough fingers digging just enough to draw a sharp breath from my lips as his mouth brushed the shell of my ear.

“Good,” I whispered, a slow, wicked smile curving against my lips as my gaze drifted toward the shadow lingering behind the half-open door.

I tilted my head back, letting the silence stretch, letting him watch every second of it.

“Then let’s give him a show he will never forget.”

**

Once, I had belonged to someone else.

A husband who chose my sister over me.

A family who buried my screams beneath carefully crafted lies and called it love.

A man who did not hesitate when asked which of us deserved to die.

He chose me.

So now, I chose revenge.

A new face. A new name. A new life stitched together from ashes and fury.

I would make him crave me… ache for me… ruin himself trying to possess what he had once thrown away.

And when my sister watched him unravel piece by piece, she would finally understand what betrayal truly felt like.

But revenge was not simple.

To destroy a man, you first had to understand his hunger. His weaknesses. The darkest parts of him he hides.

And the one teaching me how to do that was the last man I should have trusted.

Alexander Blackthorn.

My husband’s older brother.

A ruthless rogue with dangerous eyes, sinful charm, and hands stained by secrets.

A man who believed revenge was never meant to be quick.

It was meant to be savored slowly… until there was nothing left of your enemy but ruin.

Governed by a curse they knew nothing about, two rival packs decided to get messier and involved an innocent Sabrina Sprouse into the mix.

Sabrina catches her mate and husband cheating on her with her step sister during a surprise party she threw for him.

Ending up with twins after a one night stand with a stranger, seven years later, a savior comes to rescue her sick son before the cold hands of death snatches him.

She was dirt poor, with no hopes to repay since her ex husband divorced and sent her away seven years ago.
But help doesn't fall from the sky.

There's a catch– A two year marriage contract. Except, it wasn't what it seemed.

Nothing was truly how it seemed as curses and complications were waiting to strike.

Will they end up falling in love after her initial resistance to be used as a pawn?

I'm Olivia. For months, I only dreamt of giving my virginity to my boyfriend and mate, Ethan. But after my sister wickedly drugged me, I ended up sleeping with a man I never knew.
"You have one month to find the man who defiled you, or be ready for the consequences." My father said with no ounce of sympathy for me.
I searched but never found the he-wolf, until I stumbled into the New Moon's Pack and met Alpha Mateo. He was cold, merciless, and terrifyingly familiar.
Now a contract ties me to him, and I have no other choice than to accept. But how could my strange one-night stand he-wolf turn out to be the savage and powerful Alpha Mateo?
With hate burning between us and a desire pulling us closer, will we remain enemies, or surrender to the bond fate chose for us?

The bidding started at one hundred million dollars for my virginity, but the most ruthless Alpha in the realm just silenced the room with a ten billion dollar bid.

I had no idea where I was. All I could remember were the screams, the black cloth, and waking up on a stage glittering under expensive crystal lights. With silver chains wrapped tightly around my wrists. Below me sat rows of elegant men in tailored suits, their eyes gleaming with pure, predatory hunger. The host raised his gold gavel. "Tonight, we have the only one left. Pure blood. Starting bid: one hundred million dollars."

The numbers flew faster than my heartbeat. Two hundred million. Five hundred million. Two billion. They were bidding on me like an object. I screamed, thrashing against the chains, "I’m not yours!" They only laughed. "Look at her! She’s still wild."

And then… the room changed. The laughter died. A chilling aura swept through the air, heavy footsteps echoing like iron chains. Magnus Rivenhall. His eyes—pitch-black with a crimson glint—stripped me bare, layer by layer. The bids reached five billion. Gasps rippled through the room. But before the murmurs settled, his deep, cold voice shattered the air.

"Ten billion."

Silence. No one dared to breathe. The gavel struck the table, and my entire dark world collapsed. I was dragged into a dark, blood-scented underground chamber. When the heavy wooden door locked behind me, Magnus was sitting in the shadows, looking like a living god of death. "You think your money gives you the right to own my life?" I snapped, trembling.

He laughed—a low, chilling sound that raised every hair on my skin. He stepped close, his dominant scent suffocating me, and whispered against my lips. "I didn’t buy your life, Evra. I bought your blood. And starting tonight, you will never leave my bed."

Luna Ashford knew the stories about Alpha Damon Silvermane - he was the most powerful Alpha in five areas, and he never touched the same woman twice. The night she came of age, everything changed. Her smell called to him like nothing ever had, and suddenly the untouchable Alpha couldn't stay away.
For weeks, Luna lived in secret paradise, thinking she was finally the one to capture the legendary Alpha's heart. Then the pregnancy test showed positive, and hours later, Damon revealed his engagement to Alpha-born Seraphina Nightshade.
Shattered and carrying his secret, Luna disappeared into the human world with nothing but her pride and future child. Three years later, she's built a peaceful life with her daughter Aria and her loyal mate Marcus - a gentle soul who saved her when she had nothing left.
But Damon has been searching relentlessly, and when he finally tracks her down, Luna learns a truth that changes everything: Marcus isn't just any mate. He's Damon's cousin, and their bond is deeper than blood - their souls were mystically linked in childhood, making Luna's choice between them a magical impossibility.
Now Luna must navigate a dangerous game where choosing one mate could literally kill the other, while dark forces from both their pasts combine to destroy the impossible love triangle that defies the very laws of werewolf nature.

Henary married Alpha Almarjaf due to coercion from her family. Her father was the leader of the Witches. The Witches were indebted to the Wolf and decided to serve with Alpha Almarjaf's family. Alpha Almarjaf's parents asked Henary to marry and strengthen the Wolves because they knew Henary's strength was great and Henary was also very special because she was born to a pure-blood girl and born during the Red Moon.

Unfortunately, due to Alpha Almarjaf's stupidity, Henary was still in a state of purity and became the target of various groups, especially from Leondra, the biggest enemy of the Wolves who had been waiting for Henary's birth for a very long time. In the past she failed to get a pure-blooded girl, now Leondra will not give up and do everything possible to get Henary. If in the past she failed to get her mother, now Leondra decided to make the child of a pure-blooded girl hers.