Cosme Seidel
18 Published Stories
Cosme Seidel's Books and Stories
The Fierce Consort, The Alpha Prince Surrenders
Werewolf I was a twenty-first-century tactical officer-top of my class, sharp as a blade, trained to survive anything. Until I died. And woke up in a world of wolves, as the most pathetic excuse for an Omega they'd ever seen.
No wolf. No status. Betrayed by my own sister, drugged, and handed over to a thug to ruin me.
But I broke his jaw before he could break me. Half-conscious, half-feral, I stumbled through the night-and ended up in bed with a stranger. An Alpha.
The next morning, I found out who he really was.
Aries Boone. The most powerful, dangerous, and notoriously ruthless Alpha Prince of all wolfkind. My fiancé. The one who despises me more than anyone alive.
He came looking for me. And the way he looked at me-like I was a stain on his bloodline-told me everything. He remembered. He knew it was me. And he was certain I had tainted his noble blood with my filthy Omega heat.
He demanded a price.
"In public, you play the perfect bride. In private, you're my punching bag. And never-ever-touch me."
I thought I'd struck the deal of a lifetime. The perfect survival clause.
What I didn't know was that every single word of "never touch me" was driving the wolf inside him completely insane. Craving for My Tyrant Husband
Billionaires I was cheated on by my scumbag boyfriend.
On the night I got blackout drunk, I married a stranger, and when I woke up, I only found a marriage certificate and a black card.
He took care of my scumbag ex for me, gave me a canary diamond ring, but refused to show his face-he only called me baby on video calls.
I ran to my best friend's house to hide, only to find that the billionaire next door, who made my heart skip a beat, had the exact same scent as him.
My best friend cried and begged me: "He's Augustus, a tyrant who eats people alive!"
But only I knew that the man who pressed me against the terrace railing, leaned down to kiss me, and whispered "I'll protect you" softly.
Fifty thousand dollars to sneak photos of his private office? I'll go.
Not for the money, but to ask him to his face-
Gus, how many secrets are you hiding? And how long have you been craving me? The Runaway Bride And The Disabled Billionaire
Modern I was the illegitimate daughter of the Kirk family, treated like a disposable pawn and forced into an engagement with the abusive Cory Travis.
At a high-society gala, my half-sister orchestrated a trap, hiring a man to drug my champagne and drag me to Cory's suite, where a hidden camera waited to record my total ruin.
I managed to switch the glasses and fight my way out, but the retaliation from my family was brutal.
When my father found out I humiliated the Travis heir, he slapped me across the face and locked me in my bedroom.
"Then I will break your legs, and I will have you carried to the altar."
He froze all my bank accounts, leaving me with absolutely nothing.
I tied my bedsheets together and escaped into the night, only to be hunted down by Cory's men and cornered in a pitch-black garage.
I pressed my back against the cold brick wall, suffocating under the injustice of it all. Why did my own blood want to destroy me so badly? How could I possibly survive against two powerful dynasties?
Just as Cory lunged to tear off my clothes, a sleek black Bentley pulled up, and a man in an impeccably tailored suit stepped out to retrieve me.
The man waiting inside the car was Grant Carlisle, a ruthless, legendary billionaire confined to a wheelchair.
He didn't save me out of pity; he knew I was a neurosurgery prodigy, and he needed me to fix his crushed legs.
Realizing this was my only chance at survival, I looked at the devil in the wheelchair and proposed a deal that would make my family regret the day I was born. The Lycan King's Exiled True Mate
Werewolf I was the daughter of a defeated Alpha, kneeling as a broken war spoil before the ruthless Lycan King, Kaelen Varg.
Through a twisted misunderstanding with a spiked drink, the tyrant lost control. But when he attacked me, an impossible spark ignited between us. His inner wolf roared in triumph, recognizing me as his fated Mate, and he claimed me in the heat of the night.
But the next morning, he woke up with another woman's name on his lips. Realizing he had surrendered to a lowly tribute, his eyes filled with absolute, violent loathing. To erase the humiliation of our bond, he shoved me to the floor like garbage.
"Take her to the Barrens. Leave her there. Make sure she never comes back."
His Beta dragged me to a sealed, sun-baked wasteland crawling with mutated beasts. They clamped silver cuffs onto my wrists, searing my flesh and suppressing my wolf, leaving me to die a slow, agonizing death.
I lay in the scorching dirt, the silver burning into my bones. I couldn't understand how a fated Mate could be so merciless. Why was my life worth less than his twisted pride? Why did I have to be fed to monsters just so he could keep his throne spotless?
The cold rage in my core solidified into a diamond-hard resolve. I forced my bleeding body to stand in the desolate wasteland. I will not die here. I will survive, and I will live to see his kingdom burn. He Forgot Me, I Married His Brother
Modern After three agonizing months, I finally found my fiancé, Barnett Spencer, at a gala at The Plaza. He had vanished without a trace, and I was on the verge of losing my mind.
But when I saw him on stage, my blood turned to ice. He had a strange woman tucked into his arm, and a lawyer announced that a recent accident had erased the last six years of his memory-our entire relationship.
In front of a sea of reporters, Barnett looked right through me with freezing hostility.
"Miss, you have the wrong person."
He then declared that the woman beside him, Joslyn, was not only the person who saved his life but also his new, legal wife. The news hit me like a physical blow, and the camera flashes swallowed me whole as reporters shoved microphones in my face, asking how it felt to be publicly dumped.
The man I had loved for six years had turned me into a national joke, a delusional stranger trying to cling to his wealth.
That night, as I was drowning my humiliation in a martini, his ruthless younger brother, Dixon, found me. He slid a marriage contract across the bar.
"Marry me," he said, his voice a low rumble. "I want his shares. You want his pain. We both get what we want."
Fueled by alcohol and a burning need for revenge, I grabbed his pen and signed my name. I was no longer the abandoned fiancée. I was about to become my ex's worst nightmare: his new sister-in-law. The Ghost Heiress: My Dangerous Double Life
Modern I spent ten years living in a rusted trailer in Upstate New York, enduring the stench of stale cigarettes and the Millers' constant abuse. They called me a useless leech and a parasite, never realizing I was simply a top-tier operative known as "Ghost" waiting for the signal to return to my real life.
The breaking point came when the Millers threw my muddy duffel bag into the dirt and shrieked at me to get out. As I walked away, a massive explosion leveled their home behind me, and a black Rolls-Royce Phantom pulled up to the curb. A man in white gloves opened the door and addressed me as "Miss Vance," announcing that my billionaire parents were finally waiting for me.
But my homecoming was far from a fairytale. My biological mother was dying of heart failure, and my cousin Victoria publicly humiliated me, calling me "trailer trash" and mocking my lack of education. To make matters worse, I was forced into an engagement with Julian Sterling, a ruthless CEO who despised the idea of marrying a "charity case" like me.
No one knew that the "meek" girl they pitied was leading a double life. While Victoria tried to shame me at dinner parties, I was busy infiltrating elite clubs in tactical bodysuits and stealing encrypted drives from Russian arms dealers. I had to play the role of the helpless, boring daughter while my own fiancé hunted the mysterious thief who had pinned him against a wall and kissed him breathless in the shadows.
I thought my cover was perfect until Julian's grandmother collapsed on Fifth Avenue in full cardiac arrest. While the crowd stood paralyzed, I broke protocol and used a forbidden "Ghost Needle" technique to bring her back from the dead before vanishing into the crowd.
That evening, Julian watched the viral footage of the miracle rescue, his eyes narrowing as he recognized the "uneducated" girl he was forced to marry. He realized the boring woman sitting across from him at dinner was the same dangerous operative who had outsmarted him at the club, and the hunt for the truth had finally hit home. Reborn To Reject: The White Wolf's Second Chance
Werewolf In my previous life, while I was screaming in labor, my Alpha husband was too busy comforting his mistress to answer his phone.
My son died gasping for air.
But Graves didn't grieve. Instead, he dragged me out of my recovery bed because his mistress, Alex, claimed to have "silver poisoning."
He commanded the doctors to cut me open right there.
He watched them harvest my kidney and spinal fluid without anesthesia, just to use my essence as a beauty treatment for the woman who poisoned me.
"It is your duty, Luna," he sneered as I bled out on the table.
I died looking at his cold, hateful eyes, realizing my love had been a death sentence.
But the Moon Goddess has a twisted sense of humor.
I opened my eyes, and the calendar on the wall showed the date from three years ago.
The day he brought Alex home.
I didn't cry. I didn't beg.
I walked straight to the dark clinic with a cooler box in my hand.
"Perform the Bloodline Severing," I told the terrified doctor.
"Extract the fetus and freeze it in magical stasis. I'd rather stop my baby's heart myself than let that monster call him 'son'." His Wedding, Her Goodbye
Romance My adopted brother, Noah Vance, was my whole world. He protected me, cherished me, and always put me first. I secretly loved him, a forbidden love I dared not speak.
Then, my best friend, Chloe, betrayed me. She told Noah everything, and he exploded, tearing my diary to shreds and calling me "disgusting." A week later, he announced his engagement to her.
He became cold, a stranger. I watched him dote on Chloe, saw him kiss her with a passion he never showed me. My heart shattered. When a family tracing agency found my biological parents, I saw it as a sign-a chance to escape the Vance family and my broken dreams. I made plans to leave the country forever.
But before I left, things got worse. Noah forced me to help Chloe plan their wedding, dismissing my lifetime of dedication to dance. Then, in a horrific car crash, he chose to save Chloe, leaving me bleeding and trapped, destroying my leg and my ability to dance.
Even on the night of my final performance, using the choreography I poured my soul into, he stood by Chloe as she took all the credit. He kissed her on stage, and I was left to watch my life' s dream become someone else' s triumph. How could he betray me so completely?
I packed my life away, the gifts he once gave me now symbols of betrayal. I walked out on his wedding day, leaving him behind forever. I thought I was free. But a diplomat's daughter doesn't just disappear. The Wife He Destroyed, Reborn
Romance On our tenth wedding anniversary, my husband Liam handed me a beautifully wrapped gift.
It wasn't jewelry; it was a leather-bound notebook, a "playbook" detailing years of his affairs, each encounter meticulously logged.
My world shattered as he casually demanded I "disperse" his harem, paying them off so we could "start over."
For ten years, I' d been the obedient wife, the replacement bride after my twin sister Chloe supposedly died.
Swallowing the humiliation, I worked my way through the list, until only one name remained: Chloe, still alive, and heavily pregnant with Liam's child.
He hadn' t wanted me back; he wanted me gone, to bring her home.
The cruel, elaborate lie of my marriage finally unraveled.
When I confronted him, Liam' s facade dropped, his hands around my throat, whispering I was just a "pathetic replacement."
Then, Chloe appeared, feigning innocence and twisting our past, painting me as obsessed, while Liam demoted me from wife to servant, ordering me to care for his pregnant mistress.
Driven to despair, I called my mother, who immediately came to my rescue.
But just as she arrived, Chloe, in Liam' s car, brutally ran her down, killing her before my eyes.
Liam then presented me with a waiver, demanding I absolve Chloe of responsibility to protect his mistress and "his son," offering me money for my mother' s death.
The callous contempt in his eyes, the utter disrespect for my grief, ignited a cold, hard fury I had never known.
I tore his waiver to shreds, the act a blazing declaration of war.
At my mother' s funeral, Chloe brazenly confessed the murder, gloating over her "plan" to get rid of my mother, then deliberately provoked me.
Liam, in his rage, viciously kicked me in the stomach, causing the miscarriage of our child-a child he didn' t even know existed.
The final betrayal came when I needed him most; in the hospital, writhing in pain, he dismissed my pleas for help, choosing Chloe, leading to another devastating miscarriage.
I was losing everything, suffocating in a nightmare orchestrated by the very people who were supposed to be my family.
But then, my uncle arrived, a beacon of unwavering support, pulling me from the abyss.
Two years passed.
Reborn as Ava Sterling, a successful design mogul, I returned, ready to make Liam pay.
At a charity gala, I humiliated him publicly, then gave him a choice: send Chloe, the woman he' d loved, to prison for murder, or lose me forever.
He chose to sacrifice Chloe, but his act of penance was merely the opening gambit in my game of revenge.
Chloe was arrested, her frantic cries exposing Liam's complicity, destroying his reputation.
His calls became desperate, demanding his "reward."
He had no idea his punishment had just begun. My Sacred Reckoning
Romance For years, I was Gabrielle Johns: a dedicated librarian in our sleepy Utah town, and the devout wife of Matthew Scott, a man cherished by our church.
My deepest prayer was for children, and after embracing IVF and discovering I was having quadruplets, I truly believed God had answered my prayers fourfold.
My brutal pregnancy was a testament to my faith, and Matthew, my "devoted" husband, orchestrated prayer circles, praising my suffering as a mother's beautiful love.
Then, six months in, at a church potluck, my world shattered.
Hiding in the garden, I overheard Matthew and two elders.
Matthew, the man I loved, calmly explained how I was merely a "vessel," a "righteous sacrifice" carrying children for his mistress, his sister, his old friend, and his deceased fiancée's parents.
He chuckled, deeming me "so trusting," "so naive," for believing these impossible pregnancies were ours.
My casserole dish crashed, mirroring the implosion within me. Each kick from inside became a violation, a chilling reminder of his cold deception.
I stumbled home, the truth a gaping wound, forced to play the loving wife while a cold rage hardened my core.
He' d not only used my infertility, he' d caused it, poisoning me for years with "supplements" to destroy my eggs.
My love incinerated, replaced by a singular, burning desire.
The devout, forgiving Gabrielle died that night.
The woman who remained knew one thing with absolute certainty: She wanted revenge. She would make Matthew pay, not with quick death, but with a living hell far worse. More Than a Hillbilly Girl
Fantasy My name is Gabrielle Johns, and I have a "knack" -a gut feeling that always comes true-and a secret curse: anyone who hurts me gets their comeuppance, disastrously proportional. My prediction of a 100-to-1 long shot winning the Kentucky Derby made me famous, and when Wesley Fowler, owner of a failing bourbon empire, offered life-changing money to save his family, I agreed.
But the moment I stepped onto his opulent Lexington estate, his vicious daughter, Madisyn, stormed in. Mistaking me for a "homewrecker" secretly meeting her fiancé, Anthony, her eyes seared with rage.
She and her friends dragged me out, throwing me onto the sharp gravel. They kicked me repeatedly, mocking my accent and clothes, until Madisyn screamed, "You think you can take what' s mine?!" and slammed my face into the stones. The final blow came when her boot shattered my mother's locket, the last thing I had of her.
A silent, freezing fury consumed me. Through the pain, a cold certainty settled: the curse was awake.
I looked Madisyn dead in the eye, my voice low and steady, "You' re about to lose what' s most important to you." Madisyn scoffed, but then stumbled, falling face-first onto a sharp ironwork, gashing her perfect face. Her friends watched in horror. "You witch!" she shrieked, then grabbed an antique hatpin, pinning me to the ground. "This is for my face!" she hissed, plunging it into my throat.
As darkness consumed me, I heard Wesley Fowler' s voice, but it wasn't compassion. He looked at my bleeding throat, at his ruined investment, roaring at Madisyn, "You' ve destroyed our last chance!" He chose his influential but disfigured daughter' s "modern plan" over me, leaving me for dead in favor of a PR stunt. My father, with his own gut feeling, arrived just in time, scooping me up and promising a hell the Fowlers couldn' t imagine.
My vocal cords were shredded, the doctors said I might never speak again. But a tiny, stubborn whisper grew inside me: I will speak again. What happened to the Fowlers after their desperate choice? Did their "modern plan" save them, or did my curse truly deliver its retribution? Find out how a hillbilly girl with a secret knack brought down an empire. Disinherited, Not Defeated
Modern Thanksgiving. My favorite, and most dreaded, day of the year.
For decades, I, Sarah, a CNA in my early forties, had been the invisible backbone of my family, paying for meals, offering endless support, always putting them first.
My small home, filled with the aroma of the turkey I' d basted since dawn, should have been a sanctuary.
But then Brenda, my manipulative mother, gathered us for dinner, her smile unnaturally sweet.
Instead of giving thanks, she announced her estate plans.
My brothers – John and Michael, perpetual freeloaders – each received significant inheritances, while my hands lay empty.
Then, with a chillingly fake smile, she turned to me: "Sarah, dear, since you' re so good at caring for people, I' ve decided I' ll be moving in with you after the New Year."
Not a thank you for decades of sacrifice, just a shameless demand.
All the quiet resentment, the financial strain, the forgotten birthdays, the endless emotional and monetary drain – it all crashed down.
"Happy Thanksgiving!" I screamed, pulling the tablecloth, sending the entire feast flying.
My mother shrieked, then slapped me.
My brothers, John and Michael, attacked, twisting my arm, shoving my head against the wall.
How could a family be so cruel, so entitled?
Bruised and furious, I knew one thing: this was the end of being their martyr, and the beginning of fighting for myself, my husband David, and my son Ben. A Soul Reclaimed: My Vengeance Begins Now
Fantasy My life as Sarah was idyllic, a tapestry woven with threads of deep affection for my husband, Mark. On our anniversary, he brought home an adorable rescue Greyhound, Lucky, a seemingly innocent gesture of enduring love that I cherished.
Yet, a simple locket and a familiar silver bracelet plunged me into an unimaginable horror. One moment, I was me; the next, I awoke in Lucky' s lean, furry body. From that terrifying dog' s perspective, I overheard my husband, Mark, confessing his monstrous conspiracy with his sister, Chloe: they engineered a soul swap, placing his dead ex-fiancée, Olivia, into my body, to eventually bear her long-lost son, Ethan.
Trapped and voiceless as Lucky, I helplessly endured my own planned "euthanasia" at the vet, then returned home to relentless, malicious torment by Olivia, who reveled in shredding my cherished possessions and defiling our home. Mark, meanwhile, dismissed my every desperate whimper, while Chloe masterfully gaslit my growing terror, blind to the true evil brewing beneath their smiles.
The man I adored, my best friend, their insidious plot to use me, not just for Olivia's reincarnation, but as a breeding vessel for a child that wasn't even his, all while coveting my family's immense fortune. The profound, unimaginable betrayal morphed my terror into a chilling, unbreakable resolve.
But then, a flash of searing light. I bolted upright in my own bed, in my own body, gasping for breath. The scent of home filled my lungs, and beside me, Mark stood, a leash in hand, with Lucky at his side. I was back. On the very cursed day it all began. This time, I wouldn't just be a victim; I would dismantle their world, piece by agonizing piece. The Decade She Reclaimed
Romance The last thing I remembered was the screech of tires, followed by a blinding flash that swallowed the world.
Ethan was at the wheel, his voice sharp with accusations about some film festival rejection he insisted was my fault.
Then, an inexplicable void.
I awoke to the familiar, comforting scent of cheap coffee and aged textbooks in my old college dorm room.
My head throbbed, but it was the calendar on the wall that delivered the true shock: it was ten years ago.
A full decade of my life, a lifetime of ambition, had been erased, yet the bitter aftermath lingered.
I remembered postponing my prestigious architecture scholarship for him, endlessly pouring my youth into his perpetually failing film career.
I recalled working two menial jobs, typing his screenplays, networking tirelessly on his behalf, all while my own dreams gathered dust.
He consumed my time, my energy, my money, only to resent me when his "art" didn't instantly launch him to stardom.
"You held me back," he'd always complained, "your practicality smothered my genius."
The sheer unfairness of it all, the memory of a wasted decade, ignited a cold fury in my gut.
How could I have been so utterly blind, so utterly foolish?
But this time, the narrative would be mine.
This time, there would be no sacrifices, no compromises, especially not for him.
I packed a small bag with my architecture notes and left a single, decisive message on his cluttered desk: "Ethan, I'm done. Don't look for me."
No explanation, no argument-just a quiet, resolute walk into my real future. Too Old? Watch Me Build An Empire
Romance On our twelfth anniversary, I spent hours preparing a perfect dinner for Mark, Apex Digital CEO. I' d given up my tech career, believing we were building our grand future together.
He arrived three hours late, reeking of expensive perfume. He dismissed my efforts, glued to his phone. Next morning, his assistant, Brittany, flaunted a designer watch-a gift from him-in a "candid" Instagram post. Then, her email: an ultrasound, CC' d to me, taunting me about Mark' s excitement for "a real family" and calling me "too old."
"You' re getting on a bit for a family now, aren' t you?" Mark sneered, openly confirming his affair. He gaslit me, claiming I let my career go, while his multi-million dollar Apex empire was secretly founded on my stolen intellectual property from our original startup.
"Too old." "Real family." The words burned. He' d betrayed me, built his success on my forgotten genius, then casually cast me aside. The injustice was profound: how could the man I loved claim my life' s work and discard me so callously?
As despair threatened, my grandmother Eleanor' s wisdom echoed: "Always have your own nest egg. And keep copies." She' d meticulously preserved my original patent filings. Mark' s "buyout" was a sham; Apex was my brainchild. A powerful spark ignited. It was time not just for divorce, but to reclaim what was mine and dismantle his fraudulent empire. Marrying The Masked Billionaire
Romance My king-sized bed felt impossibly wide between my long-term boyfriend, Ethan, and me.
I' d poured years into him, supporting his struggling architecture dreams, always his loyal rock.
I believed in our future, a quiet, stable life together.
But then I heard his confession.
"Sarah' s great, you know? She' s comfortable. Safe. But the passion… it' s not there. Not like with Jessica."
His manipulative ex, who' d once abandoned him, was back.
He was preparing to win a public auction to spend a day with her.
I watched him publicly fawn over Jessica, outbidding everyone, his eyes only for her.
Days later, after a life-threatening car accident, I called him from the hospital.
He dismissed me, again, through Jessica.
At the formal proxy wedding I' d agreed to for my best friend, Jessica orchestrated a physical attack on me.
And still, Ethan chose to save his ex, leaving me behind.
"Comfortable. Safe."
Each word was a physical blow.
How could the man I loved see me as so inconsequential?
The betrayal ran bone deep.
Was this all I was meant to be?
My friend' s plea echoed: "Marry the reclusive billionaire in my place."
It was insane.
But what was left to lose?
I wouldn't be comfortable or safe again.
I would choose my own escape.
My own fight. The Cradle of Imposters
Horror My life revolved around little Samuel, my two-month-old son, in the grand Winston estate. One quiet afternoon, a faint wheeze from the nursery monitor pierced the silence, and my world shattered. I found Samuel struggling for breath, turning blue, his emergency inhaler intentionally placed just out of his tiny reach. My fourteen-year-old stepdaughter, Chloe, stood by his crib, a chilling, almost imperceptible smile playing on her lips.
As I lunged for my dying son, Chloe shrieked, "Daddy, Emily's gone crazy!" My husband, James, burst in, his face a mask of annoyance, not panic, as he rushed to comfort Chloe's theatrical tears. His mother, Margaret, a formidable matriarch, surveyed the scene and coldly declared, "Some children are not meant for this world. The Winston name doesn’t need weakness." They blamed me, coddled Chloe, and ignored the truth.
My heart didn't just break; it calcified into a diamond of pure rage. How could my family dismiss Samuel’s life so callously, side with the person who allowed him to die, and blame *me* for their indifference? The injustice burned.
But in that abyss of betrayal, something primal awakened within me. A chilling, intuitive certainty bloomed: I could make them pay. I met James’s cold gaze, my voice steady amidst their chaos. "I can give you sons, James. Healthy sons. Sons to carry the Winston name." You might like
His Defiant Mate: The Lycan King's Chosen Luna
MAINUMBY 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. Moon-Born Outcast: The Alpha's Broken Mate
Ghostly Mode 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. From Wolfless Omega To The Rival Alpha's Queen
Jun Shangye 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. The Alpha's Discarded Luna
Velvet Piston 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. Alpha's Regret: The Hybrid's Royal Contract
Lila 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. Unwanted By The Alpha: His Hidden Genius Mate
Jing Jing Today was my thirtieth birthday. I left work early, secretly hoping my husband, Braxton, would finally remember and celebrate with me.
But when I unlocked the door, the house was dark and silent.
Through the terrace window, I saw him and our five-year-old daughter, Bonnie, sitting happily on a picnic blanket. Sitting across from them was Danika, holding the exact chocolate lavender cake I had wanted.
"Make a wish, Auntie Danika! Daddy said all your wishes will come true!" Bonnie cheered.
Braxton looked at Danika with a profound tenderness he had never, not once, shown me.
My hands went numb, and my water glass slipped, shattering loudly on the marble floor.
The laughter outside stopped. Braxton stepped inside, frowned at the broken glass, and pulled out his phone.
"Mrs. Sullivan, there's a mess in the living room. Have it cleaned up tomorrow."
He didn't call my name. He didn't even consider that his wife might be home. He just walked back out to his perfect family.
Standing in the shadows, I realized I was just a ghost in my own house. My husband didn't love me, and my daughter wished another woman was her mother.
The last flicker of hope in my heart completely died.
I didn't scream or cry. I packed a single suitcase, signed a divorce agreement waiving all assets and custody, and walked out to build my own tech empire.
They wanted a life without me. I was going to give it to them. The Alpha King's Defiant Hidden Princess
Xiao Song Shu 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. Forsaken By The Pack, Destined For The Lycan King
Escritor apalacio I was born to be Alpha Damien Carlisle's fated Luna.
Instead, I lived like a stray dog in his pack.
For one year, I watched everyone worship Lilith Vance, his fragile first love, while they mocked me as the barren mate he was too ashamed to mark.
Then I learned the truth.
His mother had been forcing brutal fertility herbs into my body.
His sister threw an illegal sterility poison at me.
And Damien, my own mate, had been secretly lacing my food with wolfsbane contraceptives for months.
When I confronted him, he did not deny it.
"I couldn't let you get pregnant," he said coldly. "If Lilith found out you were carrying my heir, the shock might kill her."
I finally understood.
I was never his Luna.
I was his bloodline. His legal womb. His family's insurance policy.
The moment Lilith coughed up blood, Damien abandoned me without looking back.
So I ran to the capital and begged the Alpha King to grant me a formal Rejection.
He threw my petition away unread.
My mate had poisoned me.
My pack had betrayed me.
And the King himself refused to free me.
Fine.
If the law would not save me, I would save myself.
In my past life, I had been a healer no one believed until it was too late. This time, I remembered everything.
In seven days, at the Royal Hunt, the Alpha King would drink a silver poison designed to kill even a Lycan.
No royal healer would be able to save him.
But I would.
I packed my surgical kit, disappeared into the city slums, and prepared the only cure in the kingdom.
When the King lay dying, he would finally listen.
And the price of his life would be simple.
My freedom. Rejected Luna, Claimed by the King
Rabbit As a wolfless charity case at the Hyde Pack's celebration, my world shattered when Braydon, my supposed protector, publicly announced Katherine Parrish as his Luna, erasing me.
Heartbroken, I fled into a terrifying contract marriage with Alpha King Dallas Marshall for protection. Braydon's public assault and threats forced me to reveal my secret marriage, challenging the King.
My "protection" felt like a prison. Braydon revealed I was a "key" to power, not a mate, confirming my fears. Enraged by my attempt to take a morning-after pill, Dallas forced me to swallow it, then branded my lips with a furious kiss.
His chilling silence hardened my resolve. I immediately drafted an addendum to our contract, setting strict boundaries to reclaim control.
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