Piao Guo

For three years, I was the fated mate of Alpha Damian Blackwood, yet treated as nothing more than a "wolfless" placeholder for his true affection. On our third anniversary, his precious Omega, Kacie, threw herself down the grand staircase and framed me for attempted murder. While I lay on the floor with my head cracked open, my Alpha walked right past me, stepping in my pooling blood to scoop up Kacie. Worse, when a corrupted doctor claimed Kacie was dying, Damian agreed to an ancient, forbidden blood ritual. He ordered his warriors to hold me down and drain my heart-blood to save her. He ruthlessly suppressed his Inner Wolf's agonizing howls, willing to let me be bled dry for a woman who was faking it all. The man the Moon Goddess made for me was sacrificing my life for a scheming Omega's lie. The ultimate betrayal tore through my soul, and our sacred mate-bond finally withered into ash. But in that absolute, suffocating despair, a dormant, ancient power within my bloodline suddenly snapped awake. I broke free, marched to the ritual altar, and ripped off Kacie's bandages to expose her perfectly unblemished skin to the entire room. Watching Damian's glowing eyes widen in absolute horror, I stood tall. "I, Celine Moon, reject you, Damian Blackwood, as my mate." Leaving him collapsing from the agonizing backlash of the severed bond, I walked away to reclaim my true identity as the sole White Wolf heir of the Silver Crescent Pack.

My boyfriend and I made a pact: Stanford first, then the world. But an hour before the deadline, he gave it all up for another girl. He chose to stay at the local state university, for Anisa, a girl who seemed so helpless. He arrogantly assumed I would give up my future to follow him. He didn't know, in that moment, he was the one I was letting go. I vanished from his world. He thought I was overreacting, that I'd come around in a few days. But when I boarded that plane to California, I wasn't just leaving him behind. I was choosing myself, for the first time.

Five years after my death, the street punk banished by the Mafia family returned to this soil as a highly respected Godfather. He didn't come back for turf or business. He came for revenge. He wanted to make me regret the day I "betrayed" him. He framed my father as a rat. He locked my mother in a pitch-black basement until she went blind. He crippled my brother's right arm, stripping away his gift as a top-tier sniper forever. To find me and exact his vengeance personally, he had turned himself into a monster. "She’s dead! She’s been dead!" my brother roared. "Five years ago! When The Commission sent hitters after you, she took the fall! She burned to ashes so you could live!"

I stood as a ghost, watching the rhythmic thud of dirt hitting my own casket. My father, Senator Ellwood, dabbed his eyes for the cameras while my stepmother, Carroll, played the grieving mother perfectly, even though they were the ones who had paved the way for my murder. The vision shifted to a high-rise office where Isadore Walker, the terrifying "Shadow Regent," was methodically bankrupting every elite family that had betrayed me. He pressed a silver koi fish necklace to his lips and triggered a massive explosion, choosing to burn the entire world down just to join me in death. "Little Fish," he whispered. In my first life, I was a naive pawn who believed my best friend, Catarina, when she claimed I simply slipped into the pool at my Debutante Ball. I let the opportunistic Cody Stevens play the hero who "saved" me, leading to a hollow engagement that ended in my ruin. I never knew that my stepmother had conspired with our housekeeper to hide my true identity and keep me from my biological family. I died without ever understanding why Isadore, a man who treated me with cold indifference, would sacrifice everything for my sake. I didn't know that my entire life was a web of kidnappings and bribes designed to keep me as a political pawn. Suddenly, the heat of the explosion warped into the agonizing burn of icy water. I broke the surface, gasping for air, back at the very party where my downfall began three years ago. As I climbed out, I didn't look for Cody’s help. I wrapped myself in Isadore’s sandalwood-scented jacket and felt the cold steel of the tactical knife he had left in the pocket. This time, I wasn't the victim; I was the one who would light the fuse.

I was the trophy wife of Wall Street’s golden boy, Spencer Elliott. For three years, I played the part of the perfect, silent spouse, enduring his coldness and his mother’s venom. I did it all because Spencer was the only person paying for the experimental medical care keeping my dying mother alive. But during a high-society gala, the gilded cage finally broke. I overheard Spencer laughing with his mistress about the "custom cocktail" he was feeding my mother. He wasn't paying for her cure; he was paying a doctor to systematically poison her with sedatives to keep me dependent and compliant until his forty-million-dollar inheritance vested. When I tried to confront him, the mask of the perfect husband shattered. He dragged me by my hair into our bedroom and slammed me against the wall, his eyes cold and murderous. "If you ever try to leave, your mother gets an overdose. Accidentally, of course." He told me I was nothing more than a pawn for his payout. I realized then that my entire marriage was a calculated swindle, and the man I thought was my savior was actually my mother's executioner. The betrayal was so deep it turned my blood to ice. Every sacrifice I had made and every humiliation I had swallowed was built on a monstrous lie. I felt a cold, sharp rage replacing my despair, a surgeon’s focus shifting from healing to a much more dangerous kind of excision. That’s when Julian Sterling, the most feared man in the city, stepped out of the shadows to burn my world down. He rescued me from Spencer’s violence and promised me a life of freedom, but as I finally exhaled in his arms, my secret burner phone buzzed with an encrypted message. The man who originally ruined my family was back, and the last time he was seen, he was standing right next to Julian. Is my new protector my greatest ally, or the target I've been hunting all along?

I spent my entire life loving Mark, the man who became my guardian after my parents died. For his return from a three-month trip, I cooked the perfect dinner, certain he would finally see me as a woman. Instead, he invited me to a celebratory dinner the next night, where he introduced me to his stunning fiancée. The celebration was for their engagement. "Isabelle, this is Clara," he said, his voice glowing with a love he had never shown me. "The one who's been like a little sister to me all these years." They spent the evening discussing their wedding plans, their shared joy a surreal torture. My years of devotion felt like a joke. He was so lost in his happiness that he never noticed my silence, the way my hope curdled into a thick, choking humiliation. I was invisible. But back in the apartment he paid for, an acceptance letter was waiting for me: a full scholarship to a design institute in Paris. When he found me packing the next day, demanding to know what was going on, I placed my key on the table. And I walked out of his life forever.

The steady hum of my tattoo gun was usually my sanctuary, but today, it couldn't drown out the screaming numbers on Olivia' s medical bill-a crushing reminder that my artistic integrity wouldn't save my sister. Then the bell above the door chimed, and she walked back into my life, a ghost from a past I' d desperately tried to outrun. Sophia Davis, the woman I' d chosen to brutally abandon five years ago to protect her from my "unworthy" existence, now stood in my humble studio, elegant and cold, looking like she' d stepped straight off a magazine cover. She didn't come to reminisce; she came to collect, dropping a blank check on Olivia's bill and declaring, "I want to see you beg, Ethan." My pride demanded I refuse, but the image of Olivia's frail face forced the humiliating words from my lips: "Please, Sophia, I need this job. I… I'll do anything." She watched, her eyes gleaming with triumph, before labeling me her "trophy artist," a personal possession to be controlled. I thought I understood her cold, calculated revenge-until a late-night call from her best friend led me to Sophia, drunk and vulnerable, muttering, "Get Ethan. He's my dog. He has to come when I call." As I carried her home, the ice queen slipped, hinting at a pain just as deep as mine, and a lingering desire to see me.

The last thing I remembered was the cold concrete against my cheek and the metallic taste of my own blood. Above the ringing in my ears, I heard Olivia, my wife, screaming, not for me, but for Ethan, her charming assistant. I had pushed her out of the way of falling scaffolding, saving her life, only for a steel pipe to crush mine; a minor gash on Ethan' s forehead was treated like a mortal wound while my entire life drained away. As paramedics rushed Ethan onto a stretcher, my vision blurred, and the brutal truth crystallized: all my sacrifices, years working to support her dreams, meant nothing. I was worth less than her lover's superficial cut, and my love for her finally died, just moments before I did. Then, I blinked. Suddenly, the sterile hospital smell was gone, replaced by Olivia' s familiar, expensive perfume, and I was standing whole, pain-free, in the living room of our ridiculously large, empty house. It was the night of our biggest fight, a week before the accident, a fight that had set the stage for the end. "Liam, I' m tired of this," she said, tossing a black credit card onto the coffee table. "Here. A million-dollar credit line. Go buy yourself whatever you want. Just stop acting like a wounded puppy every time I spend time with Ethan. It' s pathetic." In my past life, her words had shattered me, driving me to refuse the card and plead for her love, a futile mistake. But this time, I was reborn. I calmly picked up the card, a chilling question forming on my lips: "So I can spend as much as I want?"

The day I was supposed to get married, my world shattered. Headlines screamed: "Tech Mogul Liam Vance Dies in Fiery Car Crash." My white wedding dress hung unused, replaced by black. The world saw tragedy, but quickly, their grief turned into venom aimed solely at me. "She was probably a gold digger anyway." "Maybe she drove him to it." The whispers followed me, sympathy curdling into suspicion, especially once my pregnancy became known. Then, at his memorial, I saw him. A man identical to Liam, his cousin Daniel, their resemblance unsettlingly perfect. I overheard a conversation that obliterated my reality. "I never really liked Ava, that struggling architect," Liam's mother hissed, "But she\'s carrying your child. Was it worth faking your death and putting on such a show for that B-list influencer?" My fiancé wasn't dead. He had orchestrated his own demise, abandoned me, left me to a public firing squad, all for some woman named Chloe. His parents were complicit, their support nothing but a calculated act to secure their heir. The rage was a fire, burning away my grief. They thought I was resilient, a pawn to be discarded after I served my purpose. They had no idea who they were dealing with. I stumbled out, sending a message to a distant relative: "I\'ve made up my decision. Give me a month. I\'m willing to dedicate my life to humanitarian work, serving those in need for generations." A reply came instantly. "This path requires you to sever all worldly ties. You will become a vessel for a greater purpose. Are you prepared for that sacrifice?" My past was a lie, my future stolen. "Yes," I typed back. "I am."

Tonight was my engagement gala to Arthur, the renowned art dealer who was my mentor, my patron, and my entire world. He was giving a speech when he suddenly abandoned me on stage, in front of hundreds of guests, to rush to the side of his beautiful, widowed sister-in-law, Isabella. The public humiliation was crushing, but the true horror came later. I found them together, their long-standing affair undeniable, and in the ensuing confrontation, I fell down a flight of stairs and cracked my head open. At the hospital, I was bleeding out and in desperate need of a blood transfusion. I watched as Arthur, the man I loved, grabbed a doctor. But he didn't point at me. He pointed at Isabella, who was faking a fainting spell beside him. "Give her the blood!" he screamed, his voice filled with panic. "My fiancée is pregnant with my child!" He was willing to let me die. The man I had pulled from the depths of grief, whose career I had sacrificed my own to rebuild, was ready to sacrifice my life for his manipulative mistress and her fabricated pregnancy. My love wasn't just unrequited; it was a liability he was trying to discard. As my vision faded to black, my heart didn't just break; it turned to ice. When I opened my eyes again, the girl who loved Arthur Thorne was dead. And the woman who would destroy him had just been born.

The hospital board' s letter felt like a death sentence for my career, accusing me of medical negligence and intellectual property theft. I knew immediately who was behind this malicious attack: Julian Vance, my father' s former protégé, a man whose brilliance was shadowed only by his ruthless ambition. My world, painstakingly built through years of dedication as a neurosurgeon, was crumbling, and my ailing father, Dr. Arthur Reed, sat distant and lost to the neurological disorder slowly stealing him from me. Julian, once a trusted family friend, now stood on my doorstep with fake concern, twisting my deepest vulnerabilities-my mother's death, my sacrifice of a prestigious fellowship to care for my father-into accusations of emotional instability. He wasn't just trying to steal my father's groundbreaking research; he was actively poisoning every relationship, every support system I had, culminating in the cruelest blow yet: manipulating authorities to have my father forcibly removed from his home and hospitalized, cutting off all my access. I was left trembling, collapsed on the floor, watching him walk away with a triumphant smirk, convinced he had won. But as a lifeline appeared in the form of a loyal friend and unexpected allies, a cold fury began to replace my despair. He thought I was broken, that I would give up. He was wrong. This wasn't just about my father's legacy anymore; it was about reclaiming my own story.

I married Ethan Lester, the charming golden boy everyone in Garnet, Texas, adored. He was everything a woman could want: successful, handsome, from a prominent family. But as I moved into his duplex, bringing my younger sister Sabrina along for the summer, a chilling apprehension settled in. His mother, Martha, immediately saw something unsettling in Sabrina. She warned her husband, "That girl, the younger one… she looks at Ethan in a way that' s not right." What Martha couldn't know was that my sister wasn't looking at Ethan with desire, but with the haunting memory of a night four years ago. A night when a powerful, popular high school contractor from a good family cornered a terrified teenage girl. A night when he hurt her, then told her no one would ever believe her. That girl was my sister, Sabrina, and the charming golden boy was her attacker. We couldn' t go to the police; it was his word against hers, his family's reputation against ours. Justice was a concept foreign to this town. So I planned a different kind of justice. I married the monster. I brought my sister back into his life. And now, with the town' s whispers as our weapon, the trap was set.

Three years. Three long years since I died for Kaelen Thorne, Lord of Blackwood Manor, battling a magical storm that threatened us all. But as I lay dying, he shielded her, the woman he truly favored, dismissing me as "a pale imitation, a mere convenience." My last breath was a choked whisper of disbelief, fueling a hatred so profound it tore my soul from my body, anchoring it to this desolate, storm-swept graveyard. For three years, I wandered the Grey Wastes, a spectral entity consumed by bitter malice, until I found myself screaming at his grave, a furious phantom. He flinched, haunted by my voice, convinced I was a vengeful spirit. But then, a spectral Caretaker revealed the brutal truth: Kaelen was bound by a Shadow Curse, forced to feign indifference, compelled to push away his true beloved to protect them both. Just as his despair triggered a forbidden ritual at my empty tomb, I gasped, air flooding my lungs. I was back in my body, three years in the past. Tonight, I will rewrite our cursed destiny. Tonight, he' ll learn what I truly am.

I was an elite operative, days from marrying the man I loved, ready for a life beyond the grit of Central Asia. Then, an IED ripped through my world. My legs were shattered, my career over. My fiancé, Kevin, abandoned me for my own sorority sister, leaving me broken and wheelchair-bound. My CEO, Marcus, became my charismatic savior, vowing love and a luxurious future. I married him, and soon, I was pregnant with 'his' heir. Eight months pregnant, I overheard his call. The ambush that crippled me and cost me everything? He orchestrated it, deeming my shattered body a 'necessary sacrifice' for his corporate ascendancy. But the true horror emerged: my unborn child wasn't 'ours.' He was planning to genetically alter my baby, making it resemble my ex-fiancé, all to appease my ex-sorority sister, Jessica, whose husband was infertile. Every painful 'vitamin injection' during my prenatal care? Part of his diabolical plan to replace my heritage with hers. I was a pawn, a vessel, my life and body utterly violated, all for a woman who wasn't even his mistress. They think I' m defeated. A crippled, heartbroken woman. But they forgot who I am: a soldier forged in fire. And this unwitting host is about to become their worst nightmare.

I woke up staring at the familiar water-stained ceiling of my teenage bedroom. My SAT scores and a local community college acceptance letter sat on my desk, marking the day I was supposed to fill out college applications. Just weeks after high school graduation, this was it. Except, it wasn't just a day. It was the day. The starting point of a previous life filled with relentless hunger, brutal beatings, and my family' s chilling neglect. A life that led, eventually, to my agonizing death. I remembered everything: my mother Brenda' s venomous hate, my father David' s chilling indifference, and my brother Kevin' s endless demands. I remembered the pregnancy, my mother's deliberate cruelty, letting me bleed out until it was too late. I died. A loud bang on the door shattered the quiet. "Sarah! Get those damn applications filled out!" Brenda's voice, a dreadful screech, tried to drag me back into the nightmare. The old fear coiled, sharp and cold, but the memory of my death and lost child burned hotter. Not this time. I would not live that life again. Unsteady on my feet, I walked to the door. "I'm not going to community college," I declared, my voice surprisingly steady. "I'm applying to a four-year university. A good one. Far away." This time, I would save myself.

For seven years, I lived at the Thorne estate, exchanging my unique blood for my Appalachian people's safety, forever tethered to the volatile heir, Declan. My plasma was the only thing that calmed his violent dementia, leaving me with a fragile peace and my young son, Liam. Then, Declan's ex-girlfriend, Cassie Lowell, returned—beautiful, pregnant, and armed with a cold, malicious intent. Cassie systematically poisoned Declan's mind against me. Under her calculated influence, he denied vital medicine for my gravely ill son, Liam, leaving me to watch him die. My beloved grandmother, Grana, followed, locked away by a deluded Declan until she perished in the bitter cold. The escalating torment cost me another child, lost to the trauma, as he desecrated my family’s ashes, pouring them into a storm drain. How could the man I bled for become such a monstrous puppet, utterly consumed by deceit? Was this the end for Elara Vance, stripped of all? But amidst my despair, a hidden recording surfaced, exposing Cassie's cold, calculated plot to destroy us all and seize the Thorne empire. Forced to face this horrific truth, Declan finally made Cassie pay for her treachery. Now, having lost everything, a shattered Elara would embark on her solitary path toward a quiet justice.

My husband, Ethan, always said the money was in my account for my birthday, but that thin comfort barely masked the ache of five years of neglect. Every year, on our shared birthday, he’d be "swamped with work," while his childhood friend and my birthday twin, Chloe, got the full Ethan Davis production – elaborate plans, thoughtful gifts, all the attention I craved. He’d even bought this stunning silver sequined dress, making me foolishly believe this year might be different, that it was for me, only to overhear him in the bathroom, tenderness dripping from his voice for Chloe, calling me "not a toddler" who needed her hand held. Then, the Instagram post. Chloe, beaming, wearing *my* supposed birthday dress, planting a kiss on Ethan’s cheek, captioning it, "Best birthday ever with my one and only protector!" Five years of turning a blind eye, of justifying his absence, of trying to understand his "charity case," evaporated into a cold, hard rage. I was a wife who simply wanted her husband to remember her birthday, to prioritize her over his childhood flame who clearly wanted to be more than friends. And for that, I was dismissed, humiliated, a "placeholder" in my own marriage. But that moment, seeing his brazen betrayal plastered online, was the last straw. I typed, "This trash is yours now. Have fun with him," under Chloe’s post, and then announced on my own Facebook: "After five years, I’ve decided to file for divorce from Ethan Davis. Some things just aren’t worth fighting for anymore." I was done being the invisible wife; it was time to choose myself.

A glass of wine sent her straight into the devil's trap. To save her friend, Carol got herself into trouble when she fell into the hands of a group of gangsters. However, once enraptured by her beauty, the mysterious CEO, Sebastian, decided to protect her. After all, he didn't want to lose such a fetching prey. But while he thought he would be the winner of the game of love, as he always was, jealousy was quick to prove him wrong. Undoubtedly, Carol had nowhere to run now.

A lone misunderstanding was all it took for Amanda to hate Felix. After finding the man standing on the foot of her bed, with a bloodied knife in his hand and her sole family member's maimed corpse at his feet, she ignored all he had to say and sent him to prison. But she had made a terrible mistake. Felix was his only savior and she had let down her one true love. Then she was reborn and decided to do nothing this life other than to love him.

For two years, I was Alpha Jase Davenport's loyal assistant and secret bed-warmer. Because I was a wolfless Omega, I trusted his empty promises instead of instincts I didn't possess. Then, a push notification from a notorious gossip blog shattered my world. Jase was pictured in Paris, his hand intimately resting on the waist of my cruel stepsister, Kira. The headline screamed that he was finally claiming his fated Luna. Before I could even process the betrayal, Jase texted me a cold command to update his schedule, treating me like a soulless employee. Immediately after, my mother called to gloat. "Did you honestly believe an Alpha like Jase would settle for a defective creature like you?" She threatened to freeze my late father's Pack trust fund unless I agreed to marry an abusive, elderly Alpha to be his breeding mare. If I refused, I would be cast out as a penniless stray, easy prey for any Rogue. I was nothing but a convenient placeholder to Jase, and a piece of livestock to my own family. They thought they had me completely cornered, ready to steal my inheritance and leave me to die. But as the panic subsided, a cold clarity took its place. My father's will only required a legal mating bond to unlock my millions; it never said my family had to approve of the groom. I wiped my tears, opened my laptop, and searched for a disgraced, debt-ridden Rogue named Babe Vincent. If I needed a husband on paper to secure my freedom, I was going to buy one.

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.

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.

I was a wolfless Omega, sold to the powerful Blackwood Pack to save my bankrupt family from ruin. But on my wedding day, as I walked down the aisle alone, my groom didn't show up. Braden, the Alpha heir, had abandoned me at the altar. He boarded a private jet with his scentless human mistress, leaving me to face the cruel mockery of the most powerful Alphas in North America. To clean up his mess, the Dowager Luna offered me two humiliating replacements to fulfill our sacred marriage treaty: a brute who despised me, or a trembling coward who couldn't even look me in the eye. The pack members sneered, publicly screaming that I was nothing but "leftovers" and a rejected stray. They expected me to lower my head, accept their scraps, and remain a pathetic pawn in their political games. They thought a fragile, wolfless girl would just break down and cry. But a white-hot pride ignited in my soul. I refused to be their victim. I rejected both of their pathetic options and pointed directly at the most terrifying man in the room—the Lycan King himself. "I demand a replacement. I choose him." I didn't just escape humiliation; I forced the ruthless King to make me his Queen. Now, I am the Luna of the entire pack, wielding the power to control their fate, and stepmother to the coward who threw me away. It's time to teach these beasts exactly who they are dealing with.

Zarelle Feymere-heiress to the most powerful werewolf dynasty in the world-made one mistake: she fell for an Alpha who saw her as nothing more than a rare blood bag. For three years, she endured the humiliation of a loveless mating, her veins tapped like a commodity to sustain the woman Calden Ashmoor truly loved, Thessaly. His fated mate, who rejected him to marry his brother. When a web of lies and betrayal is uncovered, Zarelle does the unthinkable: she walks away. Now, stripped of her disguise as a docile omega, the true daughter of the Missatian Pack returns to claim her birthright-and her revenge. Calden always thought he'd married a nobody. He never expected his discarded mate to come back as a queen.

When I woke up with a hangover, I found a handsome and naked stranger sleeping beside me. --- I'm Tanya, a surrogate's daughter, an omega with no wolf and no scent. On my 18th birthday, when I planned to give my virginity to my boyfriend, I found him sleeping with my sister. I went to the bar to get drunk, and accidentally had a one-night stand with the handsome stranger. I thought he was just an ordinary werewolf, but they said he was Marco, the alpha prince and the most powerful Lycan in our kingdom. 'You slut, you're pregnant! Fortunately, Rick is kind enough to let you be his mistress and save you from shame.' my stepmother said, tossing a pregnancy strip on the table. Rick was an old pervert. No she-wolf could keep up with his sexual demand. No she-wolf could survive with him more than 1 year. When I was in despair, Marco came to my rescue. He got down on one knee, took out a ring and said he would marry me. --- I thought Marco married me because he loved me, but later I found that was not the truth...

I thought nothing could hurt more than being betrayed by my mate, until I found out he married my friend behind my back! One night. One mistake. One unforgettable encounter with the one wolf I was never meant to touch: The cold, dangerous Alpha. My ex's sexy older brother. It was supposed to be meaningless. Then I woke up marked. and very much not alone. Turns out, the real danger wasn't sleeping with the wrong brother... It's that he never planned to let me go.

I am the Fated Mate of Alpha Damien Blackwood, but because I was born a wolfless Omega, I was kept as his dirty little secret. The constant rejection from my mate was literally killing me. The Pack Healer handed me my death sentence: Terminal Soul Wither. My life was ticking down to its final months. While I sat in the dark, dying and gasping for air, Damien threw a twenty-million-dollar fireworks festival for his chosen future Luna, Isabelle. When he finally came home, reeking of her perfume, he only looked at me with eyes as cold as winter ice. "It's your ovulation window. Let's get this over with." He only wanted to use me to breed a powerful heir. He threatened to exile my only remaining family if I didn't comply, and even ordered me to draft a legal petition to invalidate my own existence so Isabelle could take my place. Even my adopted brother Jax, whom I suffered for years to protect, publicly threw me to the dirt just to ally with a powerful Pack. I sacrificed my brilliant future as a top strategist to marry Damien, enduring three years of abuse and isolation. Why did I have to rot away in agony while they celebrated my replacement on glossy magazines? I wouldn't let them watch me die in their golden cage. I signed the ancient Rejection petition, dropped the manor keys, and walked out into the freezing night. This time, I chose to sever the bond myself.

I woke up with a vicious hangover in the bed of Kaelen Blackwood, the ruthless Alpha King of our city. As a wolfless Omega, I panicked and told him I couldn't be his because I had a boyfriend, Julian. But Kaelen just sneered, and hours later, I found out why. Julian had been cheating on me with the princess of the rival Thorne Pack, colluding with the very enemies who ruined my family. When I tried to run, Kaelen cut off every escape route. He branded me with his suffocating scent, tracked my every move, and threw a Mate Contract on my lap. He knew my deepest, darkest secret: I was hunting Alaric Thorne, the monster who murdered my mother. "Sign it. It's your only ticket in." Three years of my life with Julian had been a pathetic lie. I was betrayed by the man I loved and sold out to the pack that destroyed my mother. My ex thought I was just a weak, discarded Omega he could trample on. He thought I was left with nothing. He was dead wrong. I took the billionaire Alpha's pen and signed the contract, demanding a shadow team and untraceable resources in return. Tonight, at the elite charity gala, I stood draped in diamonds beside the most dangerous predator in Manhattan. Seeing my cheating ex pale with absolute terror in the crowd, I looked up into Kaelen's stormy gray eyes. "Kiss me." I am no longer the prey. I am his Luna, and I am going to destroy them all.

He left her on the streets. His brother-in-law picked her up. and made her his wife. On the day her ex, Mark, married the wealthy socialite Bella, Elena was thrown out with nothing but the clothes on her back-humiliated, broken, and utterly alone. Until Eric Thompson appeared. Bella's older brother. Mark's powerful brother-in-law. And the most feared Alpha in the city. He offered her a hand when no one else would. Then, he offered her a deal: A marriage in name only. A shield against her past. A chance to rebuild. Elena accepted, expecting a cold arrangement between strangers. But behind closed doors, Eric's carefully guarded control unraveled-and so did hers. Their chemistry was explosive, their nights intense, and the lines between business and pleasure blurred beyond recognition. He was the one man she could never have. and the only one she couldn't resist. But when Mark realizes what he truly lost, and Bella discovers the secret behind her brother's bride, Elena must decide: Is this just a contract? Or is this the love she was always meant to fight for?