Broken Bonds: The Rise of the White Wolf

Broken Bonds: The Rise of the White Wolf

Mischa Taube

5.0
Comment(s)
865
View
13
Chapters

As the pack's Omega cleaner, I was invisible. I spent my days scrubbing floors, clutching a cheap moonstone in my pocket-the only proof that Marcus Thorne, the billionaire Alpha, had once touched me. I was his fated Mate. I thought he just needed time to realize it. But the night of the Alpha Ball wasn't a fairy tale; it was an execution. Isabelle, his scheming assistant, dropped classified documents at my feet and screamed "Traitor!" I waited for Marcus to sense our bond. I waited for him to save me. Instead, his eyes turned cold as ice. He didn't just believe her; he destroyed me. He threw me into a dungeon coated in burning silver. He watched as I was fed Wolfsbane. And then, in front of the entire pack, he delivered the final blow. "I, Marcus Thorne, reject you, Olivia Hayes." The bond snapped. My soul shattered. He chose a viper over his true mate and ordered me dumped at the border to die like a rogue. But he made a fatal mistake. The rejection didn't kill me. It woke something ancient inside me. I wasn't a weak Omega. I was the White Wolf. Five years later, I returned to New York. Not as the girl he threw away, but as the powerful Luna of the Crescent Moon Pack, with a new, stronger Mate by my side. When Marcus saw me, the color drained from his face. He fell to his knees in the dirt, holding out that old, dull moonstone, weeping. "Liv, please. I remember now. Take it back." I looked down at the man who had broken me and whispered the truth that would haunt him forever. "I don't want it, Marcus. That stone belongs to a girl who died in your dungeon."

Chapter 1

As the pack's Omega cleaner, I was invisible. I spent my days scrubbing floors, clutching a cheap moonstone in my pocket-the only proof that Marcus Thorne, the billionaire Alpha, had once touched me.

I was his fated Mate. I thought he just needed time to realize it.

But the night of the Alpha Ball wasn't a fairy tale; it was an execution.

Isabelle, his scheming assistant, dropped classified documents at my feet and screamed "Traitor!"

I waited for Marcus to sense our bond. I waited for him to save me. Instead, his eyes turned cold as ice.

He didn't just believe her; he destroyed me.

He threw me into a dungeon coated in burning silver. He watched as I was fed Wolfsbane. And then, in front of the entire pack, he delivered the final blow.

"I, Marcus Thorne, reject you, Olivia Hayes."

The bond snapped. My soul shattered. He chose a viper over his true mate and ordered me dumped at the border to die like a rogue.

But he made a fatal mistake. The rejection didn't kill me. It woke something ancient inside me.

I wasn't a weak Omega. I was the White Wolf.

Five years later, I returned to New York. Not as the girl he threw away, but as the powerful Luna of the Crescent Moon Pack, with a new, stronger Mate by my side.

When Marcus saw me, the color drained from his face. He fell to his knees in the dirt, holding out that old, dull moonstone, weeping.

"Liv, please. I remember now. Take it back."

I looked down at the man who had broken me and whispered the truth that would haunt him forever.

"I don't want it, Marcus. That stone belongs to a girl who died in your dungeon."

Chapter 1

Liv POV

The sharp, chemical tang of lemon disinfectant didn't just cling to my skin; it seemed to seep into my very pores.

It was the scent of my station. The perfume of an Omega.

I scrubbed the marble floor of the Obsidian Pack house hallway, the cold stone biting mercilessly into my knees through the thin fabric of my uniform.

My hands were raw, the skin cracked and stinging as the soapy water turned a murky grey in the bucket beside me.

Warriors and high-ranking Betas thundered past, their heavy combat boots nearly clipping my fingers.

They didn't look down.

To them, I was just part of the architecture. I was as invisible-and as insignificant-as the dust I was hired to remove.

But I wasn't looking at them, either.

My eyes were fixed on the heavy oak doors at the end of the long corridor.

The Alpha's office.

Marcus Thorne was in there.

Just the thought of his name made my heart hammer a frantic, jagged rhythm against my ribs.

It wasn't just fear, though every wolf in the pack feared the Alpha's Command. It was something deeper. Something ancient and terrifyingly magnetic.

A year ago, I had tripped while carrying a heavy tray of champagne at a gathering.

I had braced for the impact, for the shatter of crystal and the inevitable punishment.

But I never hit the floor.

Strong, calloused hands had caught me.

Sparks.

Electric, blue-hot sparks had shot through my skin where his flesh met mine. It wasn't a subtle tingle; it was a jolt that nearly stopped my heart.

For a split second, the air had smelled like a storm breaking over a pine forest-ozone, rain, and raw, suffocating power.

My inner wolf, usually so quiet she was almost dormant, had lifted her head and let out a single, confused whimper.

Mine?

He had righted me, his golden eyes flashing with annoyance rather than recognition.

He handed me a small, rough pebble he'd been idly tossing in his hand-a moonstone-and told me to be more careful.

He hadn't felt it.

Or if he had, he was powerful enough to ignore the pull that would have brought a lesser wolf to their knees.

Because I was just Olivia, the cleaning girl, the Omega.

And he was Marcus Thorne, the billionaire CEO and the Alpha of the most powerful pack in New York.

I stopped scrubbing, my breath hitching as I reached into my pocket.

My fingers brushed the smooth, warm surface of that moonstone. It was my secret. My promise.

"Daydreaming again, rat?"

The voice was sharp, dripping with false sweetness.

I flinched, shoving the stone deep into my pocket before looking up.

Isabelle Vance stood over me.

Izzy.

She was beautiful in the way a diamond is beautiful-hard, cold, and expensive.

She wore a tailored suit that probably cost more than my father's car. As a high-ranking member of the pack and Marcus's personal assistant, she was everything I wasn't.

"Sorry, Miss Vance," I murmured, dipping my head.

Submitting. It was instinct.

She nudged my water bucket with the pointed toe of her stiletto, threatening to tip the dirty water onto my freshly scrubbed floor.

"The Alpha Ball is tonight, Olivia. The floors need to be spotless. We have dignitaries coming from the West Coast."

"I know," I said softly, keeping my gaze on the floor. "I'll finish soon."

"Good."

She leaned down, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper that made my skin crawl.

"You know, Marcus is finally going to choose a Luna tonight. He needs someone strong. Someone who can stand beside him."

She straightened her blazer, a smug smile playing on her crimson lips.

"Someone worthy."

My stomach twisted into a knot. Izzy wanted him. Everyone knew it. And Marcus... Marcus listened to her. He trusted her.

"I'm sure he will make the right choice," I said, my voice tight.

Izzy laughed, a harsh, barking sound that echoed in the hallway.

"Oh, he will. Just make sure you stay out of sight tonight, Liv. We wouldn't want the guests to smell... Eau de Omega."

She stepped over my bucket and strutted toward the Alpha's office.

She didn't knock. She just walked in.

I watched the heavy door close behind her, a lump forming in my throat.

My inner wolf paced in the back of my mind, restless and agitated.

He is ours, she whispered, but her voice was weak, lacking the conviction of a true she-wolf.

I stood up, wiping my raw, damp hands on my apron.

Tonight was the Alpha Ball. The one night where rank was supposed to be set aside for celebration.

I pulled the moonstone out again. It caught the hallway light, glowing softly in my palm.

Maybe Izzy was wrong.

Maybe tonight, if I dressed up, if I stood close enough... maybe the scent of storm and pine would wrap around me again.

Maybe he would finally look down and see me.

Not the cleaner. Not the Omega.

But his Mate.

I stared into the cracked mirror of the supply closet, whispering to my pale reflection.

"Tonight, he will see me. Tonight, he will recognize me."

Continue Reading

Other books by Mischa Taube

More
The Mad Billionaire's Genius Undercover Wife

The Mad Billionaire's Genius Undercover Wife

Modern

5.0

I arrived at my uncle’s mansion looking like human trash, clutching a one-way bus ticket and a duffel bag stuffed with old newspaper. My aunt looked at me with pure disgust, as if she could smell the poverty on my skin, but they needed me for one thing: to be a sacrificial lamb. They told me I was getting married to Julian Sterling, a man the elite circles called a violent monster locked in a cage. My uncle forced me to sign away my soul to save their failing fortune, while my cousin Kayla laughed and threw a torn dress at my feet, calling me a "rat from the Rust Belt." At the Sterling estate, the nightmare only deepened. Julian’s stepmother treated me like a horse she was forced to buy, ordering the staff to "burn off" my hair before locking me in the West Wing. I was thrown into a padded cell with a man who lunged at me, his heavy chains rattling against the floor as he roared with an animalistic rage that had already killed two nurses. They thought I was a pathetic, uneducated girl who "didn't read so good." They didn't know I had extorted two million dollars from my uncle before walking out the door, or that I was secretly recording every slap and insult they threw at me for future leverage. I huddled in the corner of that dark cell, letting them watch me tremble on the security feeds. I let Julian’s sister strike me with a riding crop and splash water in my face, playing the role of the clumsy, sobbing idiot to perfection. But the moment the cameras looped, the scared girl vanished. I pinned the "monster" to the floor, cut the neural tracking chip out of his neck with a hidden scalpel, and whispered into his ear as his blue eyes finally cleared. They thought they were sending a lamb to the slaughter. They had no idea they were sending a wolf to hunt a beast.

A Five-Year Deception, A Lifetime of Payback

A Five-Year Deception, A Lifetime of Payback

Romance

5.0

I was the long-lost Donovan heiress, finally brought home after a childhood in foster care. My parents adored me, my husband cherished me, and the woman who tried to ruin my life, Kiera Reese, was locked away in a mental facility. I was safe. I was loved. On my birthday, I decided to surprise my husband, Ivan, at his office. But he wasn't there. I found him at a private art gallery across town. He was with Kiera. She wasn't in a facility. She was radiant, laughing as she stood beside my husband and their five-year-old son. I watched through the glass as Ivan kissed her, a familiar, loving gesture he’d used with me just that morning. I crept closer and overheard them. My birthday wish to go to the amusement park had been denied because he’d already promised the entire park to their son—whose birthday was the same day as mine. "She’s so grateful to have a family, she’d believe anything we tell her," Ivan said, his voice laced with a cruelty that stole my breath. "It's almost sad." My entire reality—my loving parents who funded this secret life, my devoted husband—was a five-year lie. I was just the fool they kept on stage. My phone buzzed. It was a text from Ivan, sent while he stood with his real family. "Just got out of the meeting. So exhausting. I miss you." The casual lie was the final blow. They thought I was a pathetic, grateful orphan they could control. They were about to find out just how wrong they were.

Marry The Woman In Coma

Marry The Woman In Coma

Romance

5.0

My father, a Navy SEAL who never flinched, was dying, and his last wish was to see me married. I turned to the three girls he' d raised as his own, my childhood sweethearts, who had jokingly "promised" to marry me. My proposal was met with cruel rejections: one claimed animal activism, another gamophobia, and the third cited her high-powered tech career. But then a video surfaced: my three "family" members, draped in designer clothes bought with my money, laughing and intimately lounging on a yacht with Ethan, our chauffeur' s son. They were wearing identical friendship bracelets, and Sarah was practically in his lap. Their excuses were elaborate lies, designed to mock me while they squandered my family's fortune. The betrayal burned, but their final act solidified my rage. When my father succumbed to his illness, they ignored his deathbed wishes, choosing a "hike" with Ethan over a final goodbye. A storm raged that night, and I, fearing for their safety, embarked on a desperate, all-night mountain search. My leg was injured, my body was broken, but my heart shattered when Sarah' s call came through: she was safe at a luxury resort, laughing with Ethan, mocking my concern. "Liam, are you done with your little drama yet?" she sneered. I returned to the hospital, only to find a nurse pulling a sheet over my father' s face. I swore then that they would pay, by choosing the one woman who could never lie or betray me. On my wedding day, dressed for a union born of despair, they burst in, feigning remorse, attempting to reclaim their position. "Why are you marrying a comatose woman? Why not one of us?" they shrieked, their contempt for my comatose bride palpable. But just as I placed the ring, Clara Sterling, whom they had called "a living corpse," slowly opened her eyes. "Who," she said, her voice cold and resonant, "are you calling a cripple?" She rose from her wheelchair, walked to me, and kissed me, revealing the shocking truth: she had never been in a coma. My life with Clara, built on truth and unwavering devotion, had just begun. My so-called family, defeated and exposed, were given a severance and exiled. Years later, I learned their tragic fate: they had been trafficked and killed in Thailand, a cruel end to their greed. I never looked back. My world, once shadowed by betrayal, was now illuminated by the laughter of my wife and daughter, a bright, clear horizon stretching before us.

His Betrayal, Her Unborn Child

His Betrayal, Her Unborn Child

Modern

5.0

My family was a masterpiece, but underneath, it was rotting. We were the envy of the art world, with my formidable mother, respected father, and charming brother. And then there was me, Chloe, the sensitive artist they cultivated like a prized orchid. But I felt the chill of a long-buried secret, making me a stranger in my own home. Then I met Liam, an architect who built solid things, and for the first time, I felt seen. His love was a warm room in my cold house, and when I became pregnant, I imagined our perfect future. "We're pregnant," I whispered to him, and his face lit up with overwhelming joy. He became the doting husband, planning our child' s future, a warmth I' d craved my whole life. Life was perfect, until the prenatal genetic screening results arrived. He stood rigid, staring at his computer, the warmth draining from the room. "Liam, what is it?" I asked, my voice trembling as he turned, his face a mask of cold fury. "We have to get rid of it," he said, his voice flat, devoid of emotion. "The baby?" I stammered, unable to process his words. "Don't call it that," he snapped back, demanding I terminate the pregnancy tomorrow. Before I could react, my family walked in, and I rushed to them, crying, "Liam… he wants me to have an abortion! He won't tell me why!" My mother' s perfectly manicured nails dug into my skin, her voice like chipping ice. "He's right, Chloe," she said, her grim resolve mirroring Liam's. "You have to do this," my father added, his tone leaving no room for argument. My brother sneered, "Don't be stupid, Chloe. You can't have this… thing." They closed in, calling my child "unnatural" and "tainted." Their persuasion turned to force, dragging me towards a car that would take me to a clinic. I fought, screamed, and clawed, a wild animal fighting for its young. I escaped into a labyrinth of city alleys, their footsteps pounding behind me. I slipped, crashing hard, and felt a sharp, searing pain. A crimson stain spread across my dress; my baby, my innocent life, was slipping away. My family stood over me, their faces impassive, utterly devoid of love, as I blacked out. I awoke in a sterile mental institution, committed by them. For months, I was a ghost in a white gown, drugged, tormented, chipped away until I died, alone, my family' s secret safe. Then, I opened my eyes. I was in my bed, whole, my stomach flat. I scrambled for my phone; it was the day the genetic test results were due. The day my world had ended. And it was all about to happen again. But this time, I had a memory, a prophecy. I had died, and now I was back, filled with a cold, clear purpose: to get the report, to understand why, and to make them pay.

You'll also like

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book