Snooty
15 Published Stories
Snooty's Books and Stories
He Made Me Kneel, Now He Begs
Werewolf I was an Omega, the lowest caste of the Blood Moon pack, forced to scrub floors until my knuckles bled while the others mocked me.
On the night of a grand banquet, I accidentally dropped a silver candelabra at the feet of our ruthless Alpha, Kael. But when our skin touched, the undeniable spark of fated mates hit us both.
I thought my nightmare was finally over. Instead, his eyes filled with glacial contempt.
"The pack requires a queen of iron and silver to stand at my side. Not a housemaid prone to accidents."
Using his absolute Alpha Command, he forced me to my knees on the freezing stone floor and publicly rejected me.
My soul shattered as the mate bond was brutally severed. Then, he banished me into the deadly Black Forest.
On the night of my eighteenth birthday, burning with fever and the agony of a broken bond, I was torn apart by feral rogues in the freezing rain.
As I lay dying in the mud, I couldn't understand why the Moon Goddess had played such a cruel joke on me. Why give me the most powerful Alpha as a mate, only to let him throw me away like trash to be slaughtered?
But as the full moon pierced the clouds, my bleeding body didn't die. I shifted into a pure, luminous White Wolf—the last heir of a legendary bloodline.
Five years later, I returned. Not as a broken maid, but as the Queen of a rival pack.
This time, it was his turn to beg. Bought By The Coldhearted Media Mogul
Modern My bank account was four hundred dollars in the red when my brother called me screaming from the most exclusive club in Manhattan. He said he was going to be killed or arrested, and I was the only one who could save him from the mess he’d made.
When I arrived at The Onyx, I found my brother on his knees, accused of assaulting a high-profile socialite. But instead of begging for my help, he pointed a shaking finger at me and screamed, "It was her! My sister set the whole thing up because she wanted money!"
The man watching the chaos from the shadows was Adrian Clemons—the billionaire CEO of the company where I worked as a lowly assistant. He didn't look at me with pity; he looked at me with a profound, exhausted disgust, as if I were a stain on his expensive rug.
To save his own skin, my brother didn't just lie; he offered me up like a piece of tradeable property. "She'll do anything," he pleaded with the billionaire. "She’s clean, she’s obedient. Just don't send me to jail!"
Adrian didn't call the police. Instead, he made a cold, terrifying business proposal: "Lend her to me for one year. I wipe your debt, and the cops stay away." My brother didn't even blink before he snapped, "Done. Take her."
I was whisked away to City Hall in a silent Rolls Royce, signing a marriage license before I could even process the betrayal. I wasn't a bride; I was a "human asset" bought to help a cold-blooded monster secure his inheritance.
The moment my hand accidentally brushed his during the signing, he recoiled as if I were contagious, his face turning a ghostly, panicked white. He made it clear that I was nothing more than a prop, a girl from the slums meant to spite his elitist mother.
As the heavy iron gates of the Clemons estate slammed shut behind me that night, I realized I hadn't just saved my brother. I had entered a golden cage owned by a man who hated my touch, but owned my life for the next three hundred and sixty-five days. Married To My Best Friend's Billionaire Father
Modern For ten years, I gave everything to Abe Hays. I put my architectural dreams on hold and worked like an unpaid maid to build his legacy, believing his promises of a future on my late parents' estate.
Then yesterday, he threw me away like garbage for a wealthy heiress, leaving me homeless, jobless, and utterly ruined. When he cornered me on campus today, there wasn't a shred of guilt in his eyes. "My family took you in out of pity," he sneered. "You’re a penniless orphan, Chloe. You are nothing without me."
It wasn't just a brutal breakup. It was a calculated heist to corporate-merge me out of my own family's land for his new resort project.
But Abe made one fatal mistake.
He didn't know that last night, drowned in tequila and heartbreak, I signed a marriage certificate.
I accidentally married Alistair Sterling—a ruthless, untouchable titan of industry who controls the entire city's economy. And my best friend’s father.
Before Abe could threaten me further, my best friend stepped in with a razor-sharp smirk. "Too bad about your resort, Abe. My dad bought that land yesterday as a wedding gift for his new wife. My new mom."
Watching the color drain from my ex's arrogant face, I casually caught the keys to my new husband's Bentley.
Abe wanted me to know my place. Now, he’ll have to watch me rule from a height he could never hope to reach. Betrayed By Fiancé, Claimed By His Uncle
Modern Clare Lynch thought she was celebrating her fairy-tale engagement. She happily drank the pink cocktail her best friend, Brianna, handed her.
But the drink was laced with a powerful, burning drug. As Clare's legs gave out, she overheard Brianna whispering outside the door. Her best friend had hired two thugs to assault her on camera and completely ruin her life.
Terrified and gasping for air, Clare hid in the VIP room and called her fiancé, Jaren, for help.
"I feel sick. Something is wrong. Please come get me."
But Jaren just sighed impatiently, busy comforting his mistress in the background.
"Stop throwing tantrums for attention. Grow up."
Jaren hung up the phone. When Clare finally escaped and begged her grandmother to cancel the wedding, the matriarch coldly refused. She told Clare that marriage was just a business transaction, and she had to endure Jaren's cheating because their family needed the Bolton's money.
Betrayed by her best friend, abandoned by her fiancé, and sold out by her own blood. Clare's world completely collapsed. She was nothing but a bargaining chip, thrown to the monsters by the people she loved most. The sheer injustice of it burned her soul to ash.
With her last ounce of strength, Clare made a desperate choice. She called Aurthur Bolton—Jaren's ruthless, terrifying uncle. When the most dangerous man in New York kicked down the door to save her, Clare made a silent vow. She was done playing the perfect victim. She would let the devil claim her, as long as he helped her burn her abusers to the ground. Counterattack Of The Vengeful Goddess
Romance This summer, the temperature suddenly rose, and my sister-in-law suggested that the whole family go to Prastin for diving to escape the heat. I suddenly realized that the climate in Prastin this year was different from previous years, so I suggested staying for a few days and then going home. As a result, my sister-in-law angrily scolded me, saying, "Prastin is a summer resort. I don't know if you can shut up, you country bumpkin. In another month, the weather will get cooler. If we don't stay for a month, I won't go home." My mother strongly agreed on the side.
After landing, they were ripped off at a seafood market by a shady business and held at knifepoint by thugs to pay a high bill, forcing me to give them money. Later, the Earth's magnetic field became chaotic, and the cool sea breeze turned into a scorching heat wave, turning the summer resort into a hell on earth. The airport stopped flights due to the high temperatures, and our family was trapped in a guesthouse. Despite the government's high-temperature warning, my sister-in-law insisted on going diving to cool off. As a result, in the extreme heat, a sudden high tide trapped her. In a critical moment, my brother pushed me into the water, and my sister-in-law grabbed my hair, using my head as a support, and was successfully rescued. However, I was swept into the seabed by scalding hot seawater and drowned. A rescuer who was salvaging my body also tragically died. Faced with the blame from those around her, my mother said, "It's all my daughter's fault for not listening and insisting on going diving. If she couldn't be saved, it's her own fault." After this incident, they finally realized the dangers of high temperatures. The three of them stayed in the guesthouse, worked together to endure the high temperatures, and finally received government rescue. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to when my sister-in-law suggested going to Prastin to escape the heat. The Divorced Wife And Her Billionaire
Modern As Aurora lay dying of organ failure in the freezing ICU, she used her last ounce of strength to call her husband on their son's fifth birthday.
Instead of his voice, she heard the pop of champagne and the sweet laugh of his mistress, Jessica.
Conrad snatched the phone, impatiently ordering Aurora not to "ruin the mood" with her irrelevant calls.
But what truly pushed her into cardiac arrest was her five-year-old son's excited voice ringing through the speakerphone.
"I wish for Auntie Jessica to be my new mommy!"
"As long as you like it, Daddy will give you anything," Conrad promised without a second of hesitation.
Aurora gagged on her own blood and flatlined, the heart monitor erupting into a piercing red alarm.
She had swallowed her pride and wasted five years playing the perfect, submissive housewife, only to be thrown away like garbage by the two people she loved most.
She couldn't understand why her absolute devotion ended with her dying completely alone on a sterile mattress.
But she didn't die. Snatched from the jaws of death by a mysterious billionaire from her past, she woke up in a luxury suite, fully healed.
Looking at her pale, cold reflection in the window, the pathetic old Aurora died.
She packed her battered suitcase, signed a brutal postnuptial agreement waiving every single cent of her husband's wealth, and dropped the divorce papers on the table.
This time, she was leaving for good. Too Late, Mr. Husband, She's Hope
Modern Eliana, once a billionaire heiress, had given up everything to become the perfect ordinary wife for Dustin, meticulously erasing her elite past for him. She cooked, cleaned, and mastered the art of espresso, pouring all her energy into their quiet life. But as she brought him his coffee, she found a bottle of bright pink nail polish and a delicate shark-bone bracelet on his desk, jarringly out of place, instantly shattering her carefully constructed world.
Dustin’s cold dismissal stung, yet her corporate upbringing kept her questions silent. Then, her phone buzzed with an anonymous text: "He likes my taste," followed by a photo. It was a woman's pink-nailed hand, intimately on Dustin's thigh in his car, his Patek Philippe watch with its tell-tale scratch mocking her—a watch she had nearly ruined her health to buy him. The elaborate birthday dinner she’d spent hours preparing burned, filling the kitchen with acrid smoke as her marriage turned to ash.
Slumped on the freezing floor, a chilling clarity replaced her despair. She clutched the unopened pregnancy test, once a symbol of hope, now a cruel joke. Then, from Dustin's study, came a rare, indulgent laugh. He was on speakerphone with his mistress, Jami, promising her the bracelet, and then, the poisoned blade: "Her? She can't even remember what date it is. She just sits at home all day studying broken recipes." Today was Eliana's 30th birthday, forgotten and weaponized against her.
The sorrow evaporated, replaced by cold, absolute resolve. Eliana stepped out from the shadows, her hand flat against the heavy wood, and shoved the mahogany door open with a resounding thud.
"Is that so? I didn't realize my recipes were so boring." Too Late, Mr. Ex: I'm Free
Modern Today is my fifth wedding anniversary. It's also the day my husband, Ethan, asked me for a divorce for the 38th time.
He does this for Ilene, his childhood friend. The woman who crashed her car on our wedding day, leaving her unable to have children. Ever since, he's been repaying a debt of guilt, and I've been the price.
For five years, I endured the cycle of divorce and remarriage. But this time was different. Ilene pushed me down a flight of stairs.
Ethan found me bleeding and promised me justice. He swore he would make her pay.
But days later, the police called. The security footage of the incident had been mysteriously erased. There was no evidence, no case.
That night, Ilene had me kidnapped. As her men tore at my clothes in the back of a van, I managed to call Ethan.
He rejected my call.
I jumped from the moving van. And as I ran for my life, bleeding on the cold asphalt, I made a vow.
This time, there would be no 39th remarriage.
This time, I would disappear. Eight Years Of His Lies
Modern For eight years, I gave up everything to protect my son from his deadly peanut allergy. This meant three months of crushing loneliness every winter while he and his father, Greg, lived in a separate "allergy-free zone." I called it lonely; my doctors called it seasonal depression.
But the allergy was a lie. I overheard them through the apartment door-Greg, my son Josh, and Brittany, his high school sweetheart. They were feeding my son his allergen on purpose.
"Just a little bit to keep the allergy strong," Greg coached him. It was their ticket for a secret life.
When Josh was later hospitalized for a reaction, he cried for Brittany, not me. "Mommy's always sad," he whimpered, as she swept in to play the hero.
Then I discovered the pills Greg gave me for my "depression" were actually powerful sedatives. He wasn't just lying; he was drugging me to keep me docile and confused.
The final blow was our marriage certificate-a worthless fake. He had built my entire world on a foundation of deceit. So I walked out, leaving him to the mess he created, ready to reclaim the life he stole from me. His Betrayal, Her Unbreakable Will
Modern The pain hit me in the middle of a billion-dollar merger presentation. It was a sharp, twisting cramp, so intense it stole my breath. I excused myself, trembling, and called my husband, Ethan, who was supposed to be my rock.
Instead, I heard the sounds of children laughing and music in the background. My desperate plea that "something's wrong... I think I'm bleeding" was met with dismissal. Ethan, playing dad to Olivia's son Liam, brushed me off, accusing me of being "dramatic" and "pathetic" for trying to ruin Liam's "Star Camper" award. He hung up, leaving me to slide down the hallway wall as a warm gush of blood soaked through my dress.
Hours later, I woke up in a hospital bed. Our baby was gone. The doctor's kind, sad face confirmed the emptiness I already felt. I lay there, a hollowed-out shell, the pain too deep for tears. When the nurse presented the cremation authorization, I didn't hesitate. I signed my name, Chloe Davis, and then asked her to send the ashes to my husband, Ethan Miller, at his office.
"And," I added, looking her straight in the eye, "can you include a gift card? Just write one thing on it: 'For your next family.'"
He hadn't come to the hospital. He hadn't even called. Two days later, he came home, cheerful and oblivious, talking about how Olivia "really needed him" and how he' d brought me soup. He still didn't get it. He was standing in the middle of a graveyard, complaining about the price of flowers. The man I had loved was gone, replaced by a stranger.
His casual disregard, constant betrayal, and the loss of our child ignited a cold, unwavering resolve within me. I took down the nursery, packing away every tiny reminder of a future that would never be. Then, I called my lawyer. I was filing for divorce, and this time, I wasn't just leaving him; I was taking everything back-my money, my career, my life-and he wouldn't even see it coming. The Wife He Cast Out
Billionaires The freezing rain lashed at my face as David locked me out for the third time this week.
My voice trembled as I begged, "David, please. It' s cold. Let me in."
His only answer was the TV volume growing louder, a clear sign he didn' t care.
Just five years ago, I was Sarah Miller, Wall Street' s "Golden Eyes," a financial genius with a fortress of wealth.
Then David Smith arrived, charming and protective, convincing me to trade my career for a quiet life, a family, pouring all my assets into his hands.
I even underwent a "special procedure" he insisted on-a bone marrow transfer that left me with a permanent chill and weakness, supposedly to protect his health and our prosperity.
A year later, his college sweetheart, Olivia White, walked back into his life.
Tonight, as I shivered on the porch, our 8-year-old son, Ethan, opened the door, his face a cold copy of his father' s.
"Dad said you need to think about what you did wrong," Ethan announced, flatly. "Olivia is here. She' s way nicer than you."
David and Olivia appeared, his arm around her, a smug look on his face.
"Still out here, Sarah?" he sneered. "Maybe the cold will knock some sense into you. You' ve become useless. All you do is spend my money."
"Your money?" I whispered, the words catching in my throat. "David, it was my money. My life' s work."
Olivia laughed a sharp, unpleasant sound. "Oh, Sarah. That was a long time ago. You' re just a housewife now. David is the one making the real moves."
He pulled her closer. "I' ve been investing our money into Olivia' s tech startup. It' s the future. It' s for Ethan' s education."
The blatant lie stole my breath. I had seen the financials; her startup was a fraudulent mess. He was stealing from me to fund his affair.
"You' re lying," I said, finding my voice. "That company is worthless. You' re throwing our money away on her."
His face hardened. "Don' t you dare question my judgment. You gave up that life, remember?"
Even Ethan parroted, "Yeah, Mom! Dad' s smart. Olivia is smart. You just cook and clean."
Their words, twisting my son' s voice, finally broke me. I looked at David' s face and saw no love, just a manipulator who saw me as a bank account. My sacrifice wasn' t love; it was a successful transaction.
The cold rain no longer bothered me. A clarifying rage settled deep within. The naive woman on the doorstep was gone, mourned by no one but herself.
I stopped pleading. I stopped shivering. My eyes, clear and steady for the first time in years, saw him for what he was: a self-serving thief.
Without a word, I turned and walked away, leaving him shouting, "Sarah! Where are you going? Get back here!"
I didn' t look back. He thought I was a washed-up housewife, but he had forgotten about the Golden Eyes. They built their empire with my money. I was going to take it all back. And then, I was going to burn their world to the ground. My Fiancé Married His Deceased Brother's Wife
Romance For five years, Mark and I were the perfect couple, or so I thought.
He was the promising artist, and I, the talented interior designer.
But for five years, he had never once talked about marrying me.
His reason? His deceased brother' s widow, Olivia.
He claimed his "duty" was to fulfill his brother' s dying wish: to have a child with Olivia.
So, I endured, counting the nights he spent in her bed, the scent of her perfume clinging to him when he returned.
On the sixtieth day, Olivia announced her pregnancy.
Mark was ecstatic, promising me a wedding in one week.
That same night, at a massive party to celebrate the pregnancy, I stood in the crowd, waiting for him to announce our engagement.
Instead, he got down on one knee, pulled out a diamond ring, and proposed to Olivia.
My heart shattered. He had publicly humiliated me.
Later, the stinging reality of my betrayal was cemented by a text from Olivia:
"He was never yours."
I was no more than a placeholder, a fool warming his bed while he pursued his true agenda.
The pain was unbearable, but a cold resolve flickered within me.
When Mark, oblivious, later tried to gaslight me with more lies, I saw a hickey on his neck.
He then ran off to Olivia, leaving me in the car to get a cab.
Back at the apartment, he even offered me a smaller ring and then audaciously asked if Olivia, his pregnant fiancée, could move in with us, citing a high-risk pregnancy.
He wanted me to care for her.
The audacity was astounding. Yet, a strange calm washed over me.
"Okay," I said, my voice steady. "She can move in."
The next evening, Olivia faked a fall down the stairs, accusing me of trying to harm her baby.
Mark' s face, contorted with rage, snarled at me:
"If anything happens to this baby, I will destroy you. I swear to God, I will ruin your life."
The last thread snapped. No anger, no sadness. Just peace. I was free.
I walked to our bedroom, took my packed suitcase, and dropped the engagement ring into the trash.
Then, I walked out. Not His Brother's Fool
Romance Ethan Scott promised me a Texas-sized wedding, then drove off with a greasy-haired woman he called his "business partner," leaving me pregnant with his brother Caleb's child.
I married Caleb, secured, and settled into our new life on the outskirts of town, far from the Scotts.
A year later, Ethan and his mistress, Tara, rolled back in, broke and bitter, expecting to find me forlorn-instead they found me heavily pregnant on the porch.
Tara, with a sneer, convinced Ethan I was a conniving gold-digger, trying to pass off another man' s child as his.
Fueled by her lies, Ethan, his own brother, lunged at me, pushing our mother aside before dragging me into the dusty yard.
He publicly humiliated me, screaming I was a "cheating whore," then kicked me to my knees, snarling he' d "beat the truth out of me."
The horror escalated when he grabbed a hot fire poker, and Tara hissed for him to "brand" me.
He shoved me into a filthy pigsty, where a sow charged, slamming into my side, tearing agony erupting through me.
I screamed, bleeding heavily, realizing my baby was coming, right there in the mud, as Ethan and Tara laughed.
I thought I was going to die, my baby too, abandoned to the filth.
Just as darkness closed in, Caleb's truck screeched to a halt, and he emerged, a mask of pure, cold fury, his eyes finding me in the pigsty.
He plunged through the mud, scooped me up, and as he carried me away, Tara dared to mock him, "You don' t have to pretend, Caleb! We saved you!"
His reply, chillingly quiet, promised, "If she dies, I will kill you both with my bare hands." The Unseen Empress of Sound
Modern My belly swollen, nine months in, I clutched the counter as a brutal contraction stole my breath.
"Ethan," I gasped, "I think it's the baby. It's too early."
He didn't even glance up from his phone, scrolling through pictures of Sabrina Chavez, the singer who' d stolen my song.
"Not now, Jocelyn," he drawled, "I'm dealing with a crisis." He meant Sabrina's stylist sent the wrong shoes.
Not impending premature birth.
Another wave of pain hit, sharper.
I saw red on my legs.
But he took my phone and keys. "You're going to sit down, drink some water, and stop trying to sabotage the biggest night of my career." He left, the door clicking like a coffin lid.
An hour later, I was bleeding on the floor, the storm had knocked out the landlines, and the front door was locked.
When help finally came, it was Ethan' s mother, who called my pain "theatrics," then shoved me into the dark, damp storm cellar, filled with corrosive cleaner.
My baby died there, in the acid, in the dark.
I should have died. I did die, to the world.
But my father, the reclusive music legend Jackson Fuller, saved me. Now, the old Jocelyn is gone, burned away.
And from the ashes, a new one has risen. And she wants revenge. The Dashcam's Silent Witness
Modern The knot in my stomach wasn't just anticipation for my prenatal check-up; it was the chilling premonition of a nightmare revisited.
My husband Mark, our town' s revered Fire Captain, conveniently had an urgent training, leaving his childhood friend Jessica to sweetly offer me a ride to the doctor.
But I knew this day, every terrifying detail, because I'd endured it once before.
In my first life, Jessica had deliberately caused a horrific car crash, and Mark, the man who supposedly saved me, later turned into our baby' s and my executioner.
This time, I secretly called 911, determined to change my fate, yet the horror unfolded eerily similarly.
Mark arrived, doting on a minimally bruised Jessica, completely ignoring my severe injuries as I hemorrhaged, publicly shaming me while I agonizingly lost our child.
The entire town, blinded by his hero status, rallied around Jessica, swiftly branding me the unstable, jealous woman who had caused all the tragedy.
Isolated and shattered, the profound injustice burned through me, leaving me incredulous at their collective delusion.
How could the truth be so twisted, and their eyes so firmly shut to the betrayers living among them?
But they underestimated the silent resolve of a woman who had already walked through hell and returned.
When Jessica pulled her next theatrical ploy, I didn't just stand there; I made a discrete call, armed with undeniable evidence from my dashcam, ready to expose the monsters and finally claim the justice my innocent baby never received. You might like
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. 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. 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. 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 Heir He Denied
zibya "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." Alpha's Regret: Losing His True Mate
Only_Shila For years, I belonged to him. Not his mate. Not his love.
But his bedmate. His Gamma. His shadow in the night.
Alpha Calhoun made sure no man dared touch me, no wolf dared look at me. I was his possession, his secret, his sin wrapped in skin. And I endured it all-his rough hands, his dark devotion, his kisses that tasted like fire and chains because at least, for a while, he was mine.
Until she returned. His destined mate. His so-called true love.
And suddenly, I was nothing. Cast aside, silenced, left to wither in the shadows of a love that had never been mine to claim.
But the thing about being claimed by a man like Calhoun. is that he never truly lets you go.
"Try to leave me, Elodie," his voice had been a snarl against my throat, his grip bruising my waist. "I'll burn down every border, tear apart every wolf that stands in my way, until you crawl back to me. You're mine, even if the Moon Goddess herself wants to rip you away."
He didn't know then that I already had one foot out the door.
And when I finally left his pack.
I took more than just my broken heart with me. That Prince Is A Girl: The Vicious King's Captive Slave Mate.
Kiss Leilani They don't know I'm a girl.
They all look at me and see a boy. A prince.
Their kind purchase humans like me for their lustful desires.
And, when they stormed into our kingdom to buy my sister, I intervened to protect her. I made them take me too.
The plan was to escape with my sister whenever we found a chance.
How was I to know our prison would be the most fortified place in their kingdom?
I was supposed to be on the sidelines. The one they had no real use for. The one they never meant to buy.
But then, the most important person in their savage land-their ruthless beast king-took an interest in the "pretty little prince."
How do we survive in this brutal kingdom, where everyone hates our kind and shows us no mercy?
And how does someone, with a secret like mine, become a lust slave?
.
AUTHOR'S NOTE.
This is a dark romance-dark, mature content. Highly rated 18+
Expect triggers, expect hardcore.
If you're a seasoned reader of this genre, looking for something different, prepared to go in blindly not knowing what to expect at every turn, but eager to know more anyway, then dive in!
.
From the author of the international bestselling book: "The Alpha King's Hated Slave." 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.
Forsaken by the Pack, Mated to the Secret Lycan King
Da Lanlan 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. 
/1/118999/coverorgin.jpg?v=efa4ba5a557654ac9b18d761e7756074&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/105551/coverorgin.jpg?v=43508b6f8e0f84a2d19b44b16f053b1b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/117759/coverorgin.jpg?v=670eaa94f97d8d537dcc7d61a57b647f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/113164/coverorgin.jpg?v=72228bd45b9dc22f355b1ed6ccda47b5&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/58466/coverorgin.jpg?v=5facec12a367f0c33fbe0b1e403cb35c&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/115289/coverorgin.jpg?v=b0d4bf04bc3c8a0a21c7bcfacd6c3237&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/114473/coverorgin.jpg?v=b63057ca022a7515fda6434d728b0600&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/114014/coverorgin.jpg?v=076087d7dcfa68b7fc2d5d86d2a00b7d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/100370/coverorgin.jpg?v=3bf922497a568e09cf4f0ea5cf1b615b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/86849/coverorgin.jpg?v=0f9114d70873e5687bd99e694b39d8e9&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/86401/coverorgin.jpg?v=a51a646282e1e89e63d5ead90f8a01bc&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/85864/coverorgin.jpg?v=4e6f317cef0524c4f45f152a5c3ad473&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/84323/coverorgin.jpg?v=cc8ddf7f7b9a43fc88244aa757680f01&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/83962/coverorgin.jpg?v=bcaf65e32532487eafe5d3620bf81b3f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/81322/coverorgin.jpg?v=5d1b2a9ecf2e0da35f136a89437a1234&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/115067/coverorgin.jpg?v=edb96ba772c4aa5aa3292b0acdb562a6&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/116346/coverorgin.jpg?v=bc707d664232738bccd522908874ab18&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/115644/coverorgin.jpg?v=138c0b223b105344446cc6a3dc88dbf9&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/118699/coverorgin.jpg?v=e35095dbd944f6e8186414455ef44681&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/118257/coverorgin.jpg?v=18c7003c13a589a4a78df24d95753bab&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/103057/coverorgin.jpg?v=fc9c98e979c52a66045d0d88fe688a63&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/110682/coverorgin.jpg?v=0a07f9693f4a8af55f32f5ad1eb9ca97&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/65644/coverorgin.jpg?v=9f7c004464e160d8a0cc0e732ecf1744&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/107856/coverorgin.jpg?v=551330ce56c2d504e3df8cd17a53496e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/112003/coverorgin.jpg?v=7ba302bcc84f00a3a404b0bbacf9e208&imageMogr2/format/webp)