Jun Wen

I was the heiress of the Randolph family, about to marry Brennan to secure a massive pack merger and my own future. But on the night of our engagement party, I caught him pinning my own cousin, Dasia, to a hotel bed. I stood in the dark hallway and heard him laugh, calling our marriage "just business" to steal my family's industry shares. "To think, tonight you almost belonged to that wolfless little charity case," Dasia purred. When I confronted him the next morning and officially broke off the engagement, Brennan raised his hand to slap me right in my grandmother's house. When that failed, his family tried to buy my silence with a million-dollar deposit, while he sneered that a ruined, wolfless Omega like me would be an absolute pariah without his protection. I had spent two years playing the perfect, obedient fiancée, suppressing my own voice for the sake of our families, only to be treated like a disposable stepping stone by the man I trusted and my own blood. He really thought I would just swallow the humiliation, take the money, and eventually crawl back to him. But what Brennan didn't know was that while he was busy betraying me in that hotel room, I had blindly run into the chest of Griffith McMahon, the most powerful and ruthless Alpha in our world. And I had already paid the ultimate price to accept his devil's bargain, ready to watch him burn Brennan's entire life to the ground.

Tomorrow, I am supposed to walk down the aisle and marry the most lethal mafia boss on the East Coast. But right now, I am trapped inside a locked glass conservatory. His childhood friend turned on the industrial ceiling sprinklers, laughing as the cold water rapidly filled the room. She knew about my crippling phobia of drowning. I looked through the glass at my fiancé, Fabiano, begging him to save me. Instead of helping, he just leaned against the terrace railing, sipping his bourbon while his men recorded my terror on their phones. “Stop making a scene and embarrassing me,” he warned through the intercom, annoyed by my panic. Then, his childhood friend smiled and whispered a truth that froze my blood. “I didn't just guess your little phobia. Fabiano gave it to me.” For three years, I laundered his dirty money, secured his legitimate supply chains, and loved him with my life. I had confided my deepest trauma to him in the dark, and he had turned it into a parlor game for his mistress. How could the man who promised to be my shield watch me drown without an ounce of pity? The fear of the rising water was suddenly burned away by a cold, clarifying rage. I picked up a heavy iron stand, smashed the bulletproof glass with my bleeding hands, and triggered my private tactical team. Since he thought I was just a disposable accountant, I would show him what happens when you cross the woman who actually owns his empire.

Jaden's abusive foster parents forced her to marry a 62-year-old criminal to pay off their underground gambling debts. They treated her like human trafficking merchandise with a price tag. But the old man never made it to City Hall. Due to a chaotic mix-up in the lobby, Jaden accidentally signed the marriage certificate with the wrong man—Constantine Kensington, the ruthless billionaire CEO of the Kensington Group. When Constantine discovered the error, his eyes burned with absolute contempt. He assumed Jaden was a pathetic, gold-digging scammer who had deliberately swapped places to trap him. Instead of an annulment, he dragged her into his manor to lock her in and make her regret ever learning his name. He cut off her credit lines, threw a degrading minimum-wage internship contract at her face, and demanded she follow his draconian rules. "We sleep in separate rooms. You do not touch me. You do not cross the line," Constantine warned, his voice dripping with venom. He looked at her like she was a desperate, uneducated orphan begging for scraps. He truly believed she was just a worthless pawn entirely at his mercy, struggling to survive in his elite world. What the arrogant CEO didn't know was that the girl in the oversized hoodie was actually "King," the legendary dark web hacker who had just shorted a global conglomerate for five billion dollars right from his own guest room. Jaden looked at the pathetic ten-million-dollar divorce payoff he offered, let out a mocking smirk, and signed the contract. She would gladly use his ridiculous billionaire title as her perfect invisible shield.

Six years ago, my father tore up my mother's trust fund and threw me out into a freezing New York storm. Crawling in the mud with a high fever, I was nearly run over by a massive Rolls-Royce. The man in the backseat, ruthless billionaire Hiram Houston, looked at my bleeding face with absolute disgust. "Throw her in the trunk." He coldly ordered his driver to lock me in suffocating darkness and dump me behind a sketchy private clinic in Queens like garbage. I survived that night, completely abandoned by my family. But the ultimate cruel joke came when I realized the anonymous sperm donor I later used from that exact same clinic gave my son a pair of piercing, ice-blue eyes. For six years, I clawed my way up to become an untouchable lawyer and designer. I raised my son Julian alone, publicly humiliated my abusive father, and thought I had buried the monster of my past forever. But today, during a tense corporate negotiation, my uncle accidentally showed Hiram a picture of my little boy. The ruthless corporate butcher stared at a child who looked exactly like a mirror reflection of his own youth. "Boss... he looks exactly like you." I locked my apartment door, my body shaking with silent sobs as I slid down to the floor. He ordered a full background check on me, and now he knows the truth. The man who once left me for dead is coming for my son.

Cari Butler woke up in a damp, smelly dorm room, realizing she had transmigrated into the body of a disgraced fake daughter who had just been kicked out of a wealthy family. Before she could even process her reality, the real daughter's friends kicked her door open to mock her, flaunting a custom Tiffany necklace that supposedly cost a mere eighty cents. Cari thought they were crazy, until she saw the news: a top Manhattan mansion had just sold for a record-breaking $3,500. The entire world's currency value had shrunk by ten thousand times! This meant the original owner's bank balance of $854,000 gave Cari the purchasing power of eight and a half billion dollars. But a mysterious system froze her funds, forcing her to work demeaning gig jobs to unlock the money bit by bit. While working as a hotel server for twenty cents a day, she caught her ex-boyfriend kissing up to the real daughter, mocking Cari for being a desperate beggar. Even her snobby roommates laughed at her, claiming she couldn't afford a ten-cent iPhone. What truly angered Cari wasn't the humiliation, but receiving a five-cent transfer from her poor biological brother, who was starving himself just to keep her fed. Yet, the system strictly forbade her from giving her unlocked billions directly to her family. Looking at the restrictive system and the arrogant elites who thought they owned the city, Cari's eyes turned icy cold. "If I can't just hand them the cash," Cari sneered, pulling out her phone to outright buy the luxury hotel and fire everyone who wronged her. "Then I will just buy the entire world and place it at their feet."

Clifton, the god of esports, was secretly battling a career-ending wrist injury to protect his team. A year ago, he kissed his duo partner, Justice, only to be met with violent disgust. Justice shoved him away and dry-heaved in the rain, looking at him like a monster. Humiliated by the straight man's raw revulsion, Clifton cut him out of his life. But now, Justice suddenly appeared at Clifton's club as a rookie tryout. Instead of an ambitious climber, Justice played the perfect, pathetic victim. He cowered, trembled, and acted terrified whenever Clifton was near. He even signed a bloodsucking contract with a toxic teammate, sparking rumors he was brought in to replace Clifton as captain. During a scrimmage, Clifton hesitated to shoot because he remembered Justice had just severely burned his hand. Justice showed no mercy. He ruthlessly gunned Clifton down, humiliating the captain in front of the entire coaching staff. Clifton was consumed by blinding rage and betrayal. If Justice was so disgusted by him, why did he fake his devotion for six months just to use him? Why was he acting like helpless prey now, after trampling all over Clifton's pride? Determined to rip off the liar's disguise, Clifton dragged Justice into a live stream in front of sixty thousand viewers. "He's asking if you are in love with me." Clifton smiled cruelly, waiting for the public execution. But just as the trap snapped shut, a choked, terrified gasp came through the headset.

For three years, Breanna gave up her brilliant career as a top-tier perfumer to be the perfect housewife for her billionaire husband, Hartwell. But when he finally returned from a three-month business trip to Paris, he didn't even glance at the dinner she had carefully prepared. Instead, he threw a divorce agreement on the table. He gave her thirty days to move out and offered a ridiculously low settlement. When she cried and asked if there was someone else, he looked at her with absolute disgust. "You used to smell like ambition and possibility. Now you smell like cooking oil and the desperation of a woman who has nothing outside her husband. You're a trap." He threatened to bury her in legal fees if she didn't sign. Heartbroken and confused, Breanna forced his assistant to reveal what really happened in Paris. The truth was humiliating. Hartwell had been spending all his time with a twenty-six-year-old genius perfumer—a girl who was the exact mirror image of who Breanna used to be before she sacrificed everything for him. He didn't just want a new woman. He wanted a younger, untainted replacement of her past self. Wiping away her tears, Breanna's grief instantly hardened into cold, calculated rage. She tore up his insulting settlement and prepared to fight back, completely unaware that her cruel husband was currently hiding in a hotel room, coughing up blood, deliberately playing the villain to force her to survive his impending death.

I spent a year scrubbing floors in my fiancé’s club, hiding my identity as the daughter of the Capo dei Capi. I needed to know if Connor Bishop was a King worth merging empires with, or just a puppet. The answer came walking in wearing a neon pink dress. Jaden Juarez, a civilian he was infatuated with, didn't just treat me like a servant; she deliberately poured scalding espresso over my hand because I refused to be her valet. The pain was blinding, my skin blistering instantly. I video-called Connor, showing him the burn, expecting him to enforce the code of our world. Instead, seeing his investors watching, he panicked. He chose to sacrifice me to save face. "Get on your knees," he roared through the speaker. "Beg her pardon. Show her the respect she deserves." He wanted the daughter of the most dangerous man on the East Coast to kneel to his mistress. He thought he was showing strength. He didn't realize he was looking at a woman who could burn his entire world to ash with a single phone call. I didn't cry. I didn't beg. I simply hung up the phone and locked the kitchen doors. Then, I dialed the one number everyone in the underworld feared. "Dad," I said, my voice cold as steel. "Code Black. Bring the papers." "And send the wolves."

On the night of the Full Moon Banquet, I stood in my mother's white silk dress, waiting for my childhood sweetheart, Chace, to finally claim me as his mate. Instead, he stood on stage holding another woman's hand. He didn't just reject me. He humiliated me before the entire pack. "Ember is gentle," Chace announced, his eyes cold. "But a pack needs strength. She will serve Karyn. And because I am generous, she will stay on as a Breeder." A mistress. A vessel for pups he would never acknowledge. To prove his loyalty to his new Luna, Chace forced me to drink Wolfsbane wine. As I convulsed on the floor, he laughed. He even threatened to dig up my dead mother's bones and feed them to wild dogs because Karyn called her a traitor. He thought he had broken me. He didn't know the poison hadn't killed me. It had dissolved the seal on my core, waking up a bloodline thought to be extinct. I wasn't a weak Omega. I was a White Wolf. And I had one card left to play—a debt owed to my mother by the Alpha King himself. I clutched the obsidian token in my pocket and screamed into the mental void. Keith Mosley, I am calling in the debt. A dark, ancient voice answered immediately. I hear you, little wolf. What do you desire? I looked at Chace's smug face one last time. Revenge.

On my birthday, I went to the resort I designed to tell my fiancé, Elias, that I was pregnant with his child. Instead, I found him at the altar, marrying my stepsister in a ceremony officiated by my own mother. When I confronted him, he laughed. "Pregnant? You're delusional, Aubrie. Kallie is dying, and you're here spreading malicious lies." My entire family agreed. They called me a jealous monster. During a wildfire at the resort, he shoved me to the ground to save her, breaking my leg and causing me to lose our baby. They left me there, alone and broken, convinced I was insane. They thought they had destroyed me. But from my hospital bed, I made a single phone call to my lawyer. I didn't just want to disappear from their lives-I wanted to erase them from the world. And I had the evidence to do it.

My plane landed smoothly, yet my heart churned with a nervous hope. I hadn' t told David I was coming, hoping to bridge the growing chasm in our two-year "convenient" marriage-a partnership built more on family connections than genuine affection. But as I watched David Hayes' s assistant, Sarah Jenkins, casually link arms with him at the airport, her "smooth and practiced" voice oozing familiarity, a cold dread began to set in. She looked like a model, not the efficient helper David had mentioned. Her eyes, bright and confident, scanned me from head to toe, making me feel like a specimen under a microscope, an intruder. "You have to be careful, Chloe. Men can get tired of the same old thing. It' s good you came to check up on him," she purred in the car, a thinly veiled warning coated in false sweetness. My husband, David, just gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles white, and offered a weak, dismissive laugh. He didn't defend me; he managed the situation. That night, alone in his hotel suite, scrolling through a torrent of screenshots Sarah had mysteriously sent, my world shattered. "It' s a convenient marriage, Sarah. You know that. It' s not about passion." "You and me? We' re about everything else." The words, his words, tore through me like a physical blow. He had a whole vibrant life here-concerts, dinners, milestones-a life I was excluded from. My once protective, encouraging husband, the boy who called me pretty, was gone, replaced by a stranger who saw me as a "plain," "boring" obligation. The next day, during a forced shopping trip, he picked out a scarf for me. "Sarah has one just like it. She has amazing taste," he said. Then, he bought an identical one for her, right in front of me, using our "fresh start" as a cover for his infidelity. "People might compare," he fretted, not worried about me, but about what Sarah or his circle would think if we wore the same thing. My humiliation turned to ice. Then, Sarah appeared, melting into tears at the sight of the scarf, claiming they had picked it out. David, without a moment's hesitation, bolted after her, leaving me standing alone on a crowded street, holding the symbol of his betrayal. "He chose her," my mind screamed, the realization a stark, brutal clarity.

The relentless buzz of my phone announced another rejection, a common melody in the life of a struggling indie filmmaker. Then, my best friend' s panicked face flashed on screen: "Chloe, have you seen the news? It\'s Ethan. His new exhibition. It\'s everywhere." A cold dread washed over me-Ethan, my estranged artist-husband, whose art had always blurred the lines of our life. But what I saw on that major art blog wasn\'t art; it was a violation: intimate photos of me, twisted into a public spectacle, portraying me as his "tragic muse." The comments section exploded: #JusticeForChloe, #CancelEthanMiller, yet it felt like a new form of torment, a public stripping of my privacy. I stormed to his loft, demanding answers, only for him to shrug, "It\'s art, Chloe. It\'s supposed to tell the truth." He stood there, casually threatening to expose painful, private moments to my traditional grandmother if I didn\'t publicly apologize and collaborate in his twisted narrative. Before I could process his cruelty, the phone rang again-the nursing home. My grandmother had fallen. She died in the hospital, her last words a plea for me to be strong, to not let anyone make me feel small, as my humiliated face was plastered across the news. When I returned to the loft, Ethan was there with his new muse, Ava, who, feigning sympathy, accidentally revealed she knew about my grandmother' s death. Then, a charity gala, a public relations stunt, where Ethan unveiled a new sculpture-encasing my grandmother\'s stolen locket, pulled directly from her grave. Ava tearfully accused me, playing the perfect victim, implying I had desecrated her grave for art. Ethan, without hesitation, believed her, his eyes filled with a cold, performative fury, declaring me a monster and having me dragged away. Trapped, discarded, then brutally beaten by Ethan under Ava' s gleeful gaze, I realized the full depth of their monstrous betrayal. My world was shattered, my body broken, but in the ruins of my spirit, a cold, unwavering resolve began to form: Chloe Davis had to die, so Aria Sinclair could rise and burn his world to the ground.

My life with Ethan was a predictable loop: his phone calls about Olivia, his "friend" who always needed him, my forgotten anniversaries, and our shared savings mysteriously funneling into her latest drama. It was exhausting, yet I' d become numb to it, a quiet resignation my constant companion. Then, a stark notification flashed on my sleek, Agency-issued device: "Covenant Term Conclusion: Operative Maya. Extraction Protocol initiated. T-minus seven days." Five years of this life, defined by his neglect and her endless demands, were about to end. Just like that. A profound, almost liberating indifference washed over me. Later, true to form, Ethan called, cancelling our anniversary dinner again because Olivia was having a crisis. He expected my usual quiet frustration, but all I felt was nothing. Every chipped-away piece of me over the years had finally left me utterly empty. He couldn't comprehend my calm "Okay," only that it wasn't the reaction he was used to. He' d barely noticed how deeply I' d funded his dreams, how I' d been the only one holding onto "our" life. What did it all even mean, this existence where I was merely an afterthought, an ATM? But that notification wasn't just an end; it was a beginning. A countdown to an 'extraction protocol' only I understood. The taste of freedom was intoxicating, and I knew, with utter certainty, that the real assignment was just beginning. And this time, it was for me.

For the nearly five years they had been married, Cory had never stayed in their house long. He would come back once a month and ruthlessly pull Susanna into bed as if it was nothing more than routine and what was his to take! She had spent their entire marriage trying to please him and doing her best to be a good wife. And yet, he would still rather enjoy the company of photos and posters of another woman pasted all over the room. Eventually, her hopes were shattered and her stupidity stopped getting the best of her and she signed the divorce agreement. It was only once she had left that he realized he'd lost a piece of his heart when he lost her.

The following day, Nancy had just been released from prison. On the flight back home, she bumped into a man that was all too familiar, Ryan. Long ago, she ended up in bed with him after a cruel trick played by her stepsister. She ended up pregnant after, giving birth to a beautiful baby girl. She had just barely gotten out of the hospital when she was thrown into prison. Now that she was free, she had no other intention in mind but to get her daughter back. Left with no choice, she would have to do everything in her power to get her daughter back whom Ryan had taken away.

Fear follows Alpha Samson wherever he goes. As the ruthless leader of the Blackthorn pack, he and his beast, Savage, bow to no one. But when a haunting scent leads him to a neighboring pack's dungeon, he finds his fated mate-bloody, broken, and chained to the wall. Alora is a half-wolf, half-witch hybrid falsely accused and left to die. But her abusers made one fatal mistake: they touched the mate of a monster. Rescued by the fierce Alpha, Alora begins a journey of healing that uncovers a lifetime of lies. She isn't just a survivor; she's a weapon. Together, Samson and Alora will unleash hell on those who wronged her, unearthing dark family secrets and claiming the crown that was stolen from her birth.

I was waiting at the Registry Hall to formalize my mate bond with Gabe, my childhood sweetheart and the Alpha of our pack. He was thirty-two minutes late. When I finally found him in a private VIP lounge, his hands were buried in my cousin's hair, their lips locked together. Hailee was supposed to be my maid of honor. Instead of apologizing, Gabe looked me dead in the eye and used his Alpha authority to publicly reject me. The severing of our ten-year bond tore my soul apart, but the nightmare didn't stop there. My grandfather immediately called, demanding I clean up a mess Hailee had made. When I refused, he disowned me on the spot, froze every single one of my bank accounts, and stripped me of my family name. Within hours, my entire pack erased my existence, gleefully announcing Hailee as their new Luna. I had given my entire life to a family and a man who discarded me like worthless trash the second I became inconvenient. I was left broken, humiliated, and utterly penniless in the blink of an eye. But as I stumbled out of that sterile hall, a terrifyingly beautiful stranger stepped out of the shadows, radiating a primal power that made my knees weak. He was Caden Sinclair, the ruthless Lycan King, and he was dodging a forced political union of his own. "You need a shield. I need a wife. Marry me." Without hesitation, I signed the Eternal Vow.

I was three months pregnant when the car hit me. Lying there, barely hanging on, I called my husband-Alpha Ethan-over and over. No answer. When I finally woke up from the pain, I saw a post from his first love, Ivy. "Thank you, Alpha, for knowing how scared I am of the dark and staying with me all night. He even cleared his whole schedule today to take me to the auction, just to give me the best gift in the world. I'm so happy!" Right then, it hit me. While I was fighting to protect our child, he was with another she-wolf. I calmly liked her post and put my phone away. Since he chose his first love, I chose to let go. Seven days from now, I'd leave his world for good-with our child.

For years, Elara Park endured being called "half-breed" and "weak blood" at pack meetings. Because she was a hybrid wolf, she trusted Zack Blackwood's sweet promises. Then he rejected their fated mate bond moments after claiming her body. Before she could even breathe through the soul-crushing agony, the news was already celebrating his engagement to her vindictive stepsister, Selina. The headlines gushed about their "perfect pureblooded union." Her mother's call came like a final blow: "Elara, you're twenty-three now. It's time you contributed to the family." Marry the worthless second son of a prominent Alpha family or lose her father's empire forever. They had her trapped, ready to steal her birthright and leave her powerless. But as the heartbreak bled out, ice-cold determination took its place. Elara went to the arranged meeting at the city's most exclusive club, determined to turn her mother's matchmaking scheme to her advantage. She would agree to marriage-but on her own terms. When she found who she believed was Damian Sterling in the private suite, she cut straight to business: a contract marriage with clear boundaries, separate lives, and a guaranteed escape route. What she didn't know? The devastatingly dangerous man who'd just signed her contract with a predator's smile wasn't the pathetic playboy she expected. He was Dominic Wolfe-the Alpha King who'd been relentlessly hunting her for years. And now, she'd just signed herself over to him completely.

For three years, I poured my blood, sweat, and tears into building Blackwood Group for Alec, my Alpha and the man I thought was my mate. But on the day of our work anniversary, I stood outside his office door and heard him talking with his Beta, shattering my entire world. "Kay is just a wolfless Omega, useful for paperwork," Alec sneered coldly. "The bonding ceremony is just a show for the elders. The real Luna, the one who carries the bloodline that matters, is Breanne. I'm transferring all of Kay's core project files to Breanne tomorrow. Let her take the credit." He even texted me later, telling me to wear a blue dress to the upcoming gala because it made me look "obedient." I had turned down a Wharton scholarship for this man. I had spent countless nights fixing his mistakes, building his empire, and giving him my youth. Yet to him, I was nothing but a disposable placeholder, expected to smile and bow while another woman stole my life's work and my place by his side. The agonizing pain in my chest didn't break me; it forged me into ice. I didn't cry, and I certainly didn't beg. Instead, I wiped his servers clean of every strategy I had ever created, left a wax-sealed resignation on his desk, and accepted a job offer from his most ruthless rival.

I died once before, framed for a murder that never happened. I am Princess Fiona Avery of the Blackwood Pack, forced by my father into a political union with Bowen Mayer, heir to a powerful house. In my first life, my husband's mistress faked a pregnancy, accused me of pushing her into a lake, and watched as I was condemned as a murderer. I spent my final days in a mental ward, broken and drugged, until a lethal injection silenced me forever. But the dead don't always stay dead. I opened my eyes on the very day it all went wrong. My tea was still laced with sedative. My husband's footsteps were already pounding down the hall. His weeping mistress was ready to play her part. This time, I don't beg. I don't cry. I don't kneel. I summon the ruthless Gamma of the royal Shadow Guard. I demand the pack doctor examine his precious lover-right here, in front of everyone. I stake my life on a wager I know I cannot lose. They think I'm still the weak, wolfless princess they once destroyed. They have no idea what I've become.

For eight years, Cecilia Moore was the perfect Luna, loyal, and unmarked. Until the day she found her Alpha mate with a younger, purebred she-wolf in his bed. In a world ruled by bloodlines and mating bonds, Cecilia was always the outsider. But now, she's done playing by wolf rules. She smiles as she hands Xavier the quarterly financials-divorce papers clipped neatly beneath the final page. "You're angry?" he growls. "Angry enough to commit murder," she replies, voice cold as frost. A silent war brews under the roof they once called home. Xavier thinks he still holds the power-but Cecilia has already begun her quiet rebellion. With every cold glance and calculated step, she's preparing to disappear from his world-as the mate he never deserved. And when he finally understands the strength of the heart he broke... It may be far too late to win it back.

"I reject you," Alpha Damon sneered, looking down at the shivering Omega. "I need a Queen, not a servant." Aria bowed her head and accepted her fate, but she took a secret with her when she fled into the night: the Alpha's heir growing in her womb. Five years later, Aria returns to the city, no longer the weak girl who scrubbed floors. She is powerful, wealthy, and stunning. She thought she could hide from her past, but fate has a cruel sense of humor. Her new business partner is none other than Alpha Damon. When Damon sees her, he realizes the mistake he made. He wants his mate back. But then he sees the little boy with his same grey eyes hiding behind her legs. "Who is the child, Aria?" Damon growls, his possessiveness flaring. Aria smiles coldly. "Someone you rejected."

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.

My five-year-old brother was burning up with a deadly fever, so I begged my fated mate, the Alpha Heir, to let us see the pack doctor. But he refused to even step out of his study. Instead, his cousin Elara falsely accused me of stealing a sapphire necklace. My fated mate believed her lie without a second thought. He looked at my dying brother with cold disgust, tossed me a bottle of cheap aspirin, and ordered the guards to throw me out. "Stop making a scene. Your jealousy is becoming pathetic." He shut the heavy oak door in my face, leaving us in the freezing hallway. I held my brother's shivering body, realizing the boy who had promised to protect me ten years ago was completely gone. For a decade, I had endured the pack's abuse and his family's cruelty, clinging to a one-sided mate bond while my brother suffered in a damp servant's room. How could I have been so blind? How could I let my brother slowly die just to wait for a man who thought our lives were trivial? My heart shattered, but the naive girl inside me died with it. I sold my parents' last heirloom, packed a single bag, and escaped the pack territory in the middle of a thunderstorm. When he finally tracked me down days later, trying to buy my return with a glittering diamond necklace, I didn't shed a single tear. I looked him dead in the eye and spoke the words that would sever our souls forever. "I, Aaliyah Hatfield, formally reject you as my fated mate."