Luna Fell for Another Alpha after her Mate Betrayed her

My Fiancé Married Me To My Rival

At my best friend's birthday party, I drank tainted wine and passed out. When I woke up, I heard the doctor say it could cause severe nerve damage. I teased my fiancé Cayden Hewitt, asking who I was and where I was. He hesitated, staring at me, then called my rival Liam Hewitt. "You're Julia. He's your fiancé. You're getting married soon." I froze, thinking he was joking too. My best friend, Vivian Green, slipped her arm through Cayden's, looking every bit like a couple in love. Eventually, I was about to marry Liam. But Cayden, with eyes red from emotion, stood in front of the car to stop it, pleading, "Julia, don't marry him. I've realized I can't let you go."

I Ruined my Ex-husband and my Best Friend after a Divorce

I once believed that after enduring hardships, we would finally savor the sweetness of life once my husband, Rhett, completed his PhD. However, on the day of his graduation, he shocked me by filing for divorce, accusing me of deceiving him into marriage by hiding a family illness. What shattered my heart even more was that my best friend, Emeline, who was also my lawyer, "mistakenly" presented crucial evidence in court, leading to my defeat and leaving me completely penniless and homeless. Wandering the streets with nothing, I sought out Emeline, only to overhear an earth-shattering truth outside her door. It turned out they had been together all along and even had a child. They had conspired to accuse me of being the sick one to completely discard me. Seven years of dedication and friendship were all lies, leaving only cold fury in my heart. Quietly, I gathered solid proof to prove my innocence and returned to the courtroom. This time, I was determined to hold them accountable for their deceit!

Saving Her, Breaking Us

The day I saw Jared Stanley's interview, I filed for divorce and moved out of the perfectly maintained home I'd shared with him for three years. In that interview, Jared said his biggest regret in life was that, in a life-or-death situation, he instinctively protected what he called his most "precious national asset." The "asset" he protected wasn't me, his wife. It was his "fragile" colleague, Bailee Brooks. Two days later, at the global press conference for the G20 summit. The same renowned war correspondent asked me the same question. "Ms. Quinn, as a top-tier simultaneous interpreter, what would you say is the professional principle you are most proud of?" I looked directly at Jared sitting in the front row. "True professionalism is knowing that my husband risked his life to protect his mistress, and still being able to calmly, as the lead interpreter, accurately convey the commands that would ultimately save him."

Luna's Abandonment of the Alpha

The Alpha Werewolf Nikolas Morrison had contracted mercury poisoning, and as his Luna, I shattered our moonstone wedding ring and hurled the Dissolution of Mate Contract papers at him. "I refuse you to be my partner again." My wolf purred with pleasure. Nikolas' eyes were bloodshot, and he fell to his knees in desperation before me. "Elianna, I'm sorry. It's my stupidity that led to my illness. I'll try my best not to become unsightly and burden you. I'm willing to give you everything I have. Please don't leave me." He clung to my legs, pleading desperately, as if leaving me would be the end for him. The once-revered Alpha now lay prostrate on the ground, as lowly as a beggar. But I was blind to his suffering, dragging him roughly to the statue of the Lunar Deity. "If you refuse to break the bond, I'll ask the Lunar Deity to take back her blessing."

My Husband Forgot Me

I was there with my husband when we started from scratch, moving from a rundown shack to a massive mansion. On the day the company went public, he showed up at the celebration with a young woman on his arm. He introduced her to the crowd, "This is my love, Ms. Barrett." Someone asked, "What about your wife?" He just smiled. "That old ball and chain at home? She doesn't belong at an event like this." I stood quietly at the back of the crowd, holding a glass of champagne. Then the screen behind him lit up, starting a video about the company's history. At the end of the video, a chart of the company's ownership structure appeared. My name and photo were clearly under the "Largest Shareholder" section, with a 51% stake. A clip started playing. A younger version of my husband, looking shy, said, "Everything I have, I owe to my wife. Without her, none of this would exist."

I Made Them Pay

On our fifth wedding anniversary, my husband compared me to my best friend. He used to nitpick everything about Hailee Baxter, but that day, he told me to learn from her. "You two grew up together. How is there such a huge gap between you? Grow your hair out, wear dresses more often, maybe spritz on some perfume. You can manage that, right? You're my wife. Don't embarrass me in public." I clutched my faded shirt, making sure it didn't carry the smoky smell of the barbecue I'd been grilling for years. I shot back, "What, you've got a thing for her now?"

Reborn: After 99 Divorces

I stood at the edge of the freezing pond on the Boone estate, my body trembling with a fear that rattled my bones. Across from me, Amanda Olsen looked immaculate in her cashmere coat, a sharp contrast to the jagged reality I was trying to hold together. "Why?" I whispered. Amanda just smiled, admitting she killed Grandpa Boone because he actually liked me. She pulled out a thick envelope-divorce papers Cordero had signed that morning. She told me he called me a parasite and was celebrating with her the night I suffered a miscarriage. Before I could even scream, Amanda lunged and shoved me into the icy water. My heavy wool coat acted like a sponge, dragging me into the artificial abyss. I thrashed and gasped for air, but Amanda just stood on the bank, watching me drown with her hands tucked casually in her pockets. As my lungs burned and the darkness closed in, I realized I had spent my entire marriage taking their abuse. I was the "foster trash" and the "gold digger" who let them win every single time. I was dying alone, hated by the husband I had tried so hard to love, while my murderer stood victorious on the shore. I never fought back. I just let them destroy me. Then, a violent spasm tore through my body. I sat up gasping, sucking in dry, air-conditioned oxygen instead of murky pond water. I wasn't dead. I was back in the opulent master suite, surrounded by red rose petals and wedding decorations. The digital clock glowed: October 14, 2019. I had gone back five years to the very night my nightmare began. The bathroom door clicked open, and Cordero stepped out, looking at me with the same cold disgust I remembered. But as I gripped the silk sheets, a new resolve hardened in my chest. This time, I wasn't going to be the victim. This time, the Boone family was going to find out exactly what happens when you push someone too far.

After Divorce: My Arrogant Ex Regrets Calling Me Trash

Aurora woke up to the sterile chill of her king-sized bed in Sterling Thorne's penthouse. Today was the day her husband would finally throw her out like garbage. Sterling walked in, tossed divorce papers at her, and demanded her signature, eager to announce his "eligible bachelor" status to the world. In her past life, the sight of those papers had broken her, leaving her begging for a second chance. Sterling's sneering voice, calling her a "trailer park girl" undeserving of his name, had once cut deeper than any blade. He had always used her humble beginnings to keep her small, to make her grateful for the crumbs of his attention. She had lived a gilded cage, believing she was nothing without him, until her life flatlined in a hospital bed, watching him give a press conference about his "grief." But this time, she felt no sting, no tears. Only a cold, clear understanding of the mediocre man who stood on a pedestal she had painstakingly built with her own genius. Aurora signed the papers, her name a declaration of independence. She grabbed her old, phoenix-stickered laptop, ready to walk out. Sterling Thorne was about to find out exactly how expensive "free" could be.

He Thought I Was A Doormat, Until I Ruined Him

The sterile white of the operating room blurred, then sharpened, as Skye Sterling felt the cold clawing its way up her body. The heart monitor flatlined, a steady, high-pitched whine announcing her end. Her uterus had been removed, a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding, but the blood wouldn't clot. It just kept flowing, warm and sticky, pooling beneath her. Through heavy eyes, she saw a trembling nurse holding a phone on speaker. "Mr. Kensington," the nurse's voice cracked, "your wife... she's critical." A pause, then a sweet, poisonous giggle. Seraphina Miller. "Liam is in the shower," Seraphina's voice purred. "Stop calling, Skye. It's pathetic. Faking a medical emergency on our anniversary? Even for you, that's low." Then, Liam's bored voice: "If she dies, call the funeral home. I have a meeting in the morning." Click. The line went dead. A second later, so did Skye. The darkness that followed was absolute, suffocating, a black ocean crushing her lungs. She screamed into the void, a silent, agonizing wail of regret for loving a man who saw her as a nuisance, for dying without ever truly living. Until she died, she didn't understand. Why was her life so tragically wasted? Why did her husband, the man she loved, abandon her so cruelly? The injustice of it all burned hotter than the fever in her body. Then, the air rushed back in. Skye gasped, her body convulsing violently on the mattress. Her eyes flew open, wide and terrified, staring blindly into the darkness. Her trembling hand reached for her phone. May 12th. Five years ago. She was back.

She Took The House, The Car, And My Heart

After two years of marriage, Kristian dropped a bombshell. "She's back. Let's get divorced. Name your price." Freya didn't argue. She just smiled and made her demands. "I want your most expensive supercar." "Okay." "The villa on the outskirts." "Sure." "And half of the billions we made together." Kristian froze. "Come again?" He thought she was ordinary-but Freya was the genius behind their fortune. And now that she'd gone, he'd do anything to win her back.

I Paid the Alpha King for One Night

For three years, I was the perfect, invisible wife. My husband, Jaden, called the songs I poured my soul into "trash," then secretly fed them to his pop-star mistress to make her famous. Then one night, after being drugged at a gala, I woke up in a stranger's bed. It wasn't just the betrayal that shattered me; it was the soul-deep certainty that this powerful, dangerous man was my true fated mate. I fled home in a panic, only to find a message on Jaden's phone confirming my worst fears. His mistress, the woman singing my songs on the radio, was pregnant with the baby he'd always told me I was too weak to carry. The nightmare deepened when I learned the identity of the man from the hotel. He was Carter Mcclain, the ruthless Alpha King-and my husband's older brother. He looked at me with eyes that knew my secret, his cruel smirk promising that my life was now a game for his amusement. Jaden had stolen my music, my dream of a family, and my future, leaving me trapped between his betrayal and his terrifying brother. He thought he had broken me, leaving me with nothing. He forgot he left me with the rage that wrote the songs. And I was about to write their final, brutal verse.

Jilted Bride's Revenge: The Valkyrie Awakens

I had been a wife for exactly six hours when I woke up to the sound of my husband’s heavy breathing. In the dim moonlight of our bridal suite, I watched Hardin, the man I had adored for years, intertwined with my sister Carissa on the chaise lounge. The betrayal didn't come with an apology. Hardin stood up, unashamed, and sneered at me. "You're awake? Get out, you frumpy mute." Carissa huddled under a throw, her fake tears already welling up as she played the victim. They didn't just want me gone; they wanted me erased to protect their reputations. When I refused to move, my world collapsed. My father didn't offer a shoulder to cry on; he threatened to have me committed to a mental asylum to save his business merger. "You're a disgrace," he bellowed, while the guards stood ready to drag me away. They had spent my life treating me like a stuttering, submissive pawn, and now they were done with me. I felt a blinding pain in my skull, a fracture that should have broken me. But instead of tears, something dormant and lethal flickered to life. The terrified girl who walked down the aisle earlier that day simply ceased to exist. In her place, a clinical system—the Valkyrie Protocol—booted up. My racing heart plummeted to a steady sixty beats per minute. I didn't scream. I stood up, my spine straightening for the first time in twenty years, and looked at Hardin with the detachment of a surgeon looking at a tumor. "Correction," I said, my voice stripped of its stutter. "You're in my light." By dawn, I had drained my father's accounts, vanished into a storm, and found a bleeding Crown Prince in a hidden safehouse. They thought they had broken a mute girl. They didn't realize they had just activated their own destruction.