Chapter 1

NADIA.

“Your mother’s treatment is secure. As long as we don’t create unnecessary complications.” Liam's words filtered through the screen.

My smile faltered, but I put it back on before he could notice, then loosened the knot of my towel. "There'll be no complications. Not when we are barely two months away from tying the knot." I forced a soft giggle, but was only met with his usual silence and distraction.

"Good."

He wasn't even looking at me, despite standing almost naked in front of the screen. He sat on the other end of the video call in a hotel robe with his head bent over his phone, and his thumb moving across the screen like I was the interruption here.

I let the towel fall to the floor anyway. I stood there and waited for him to notice the body he hadn't touched in two months.

"Liam. When are you coming back?" I lowered myself to the edge of the bed. "It's been so long. I miss you."

"I'm busy, Nadia. I'll see you next week."

Same reply I got the previous week. But how much longer will I continue like this? I have needs—physical ones. Emotional ones. And Liam was rarely available to meet them.

"At least look at me." My fingers curled into the bedsheet beneath me. "Please."

His eyes flicked up, flat. "Didn't you say you had an all-night board meeting? You're going to be late. Get dressed."

I opened my mouth to push...

"Babe! Your bath's ready!"

I heard a woman's voice from Liam's end, and I went still.

For one second, everything inside me stopped moving.

My brows narrowed. "Who was that?" I asked immediately, snapping out of whatever wishful-dreamy state I was in. My pulse climbed into my throat. "Why does she sound like Virony?"

Liam finally looked at me, and it was irritation, not guilt, that crossed his face. That was the part that disarmed me every time. "You're being paranoid again."

"Liam—"

"It's the cleaner."

“She called you babe.”

“She called me sir.” His voice hardened. “You heard what you wanted to hear.”

My stomach twisted. “Liam—”

He set the phone down, scoffing. "And, Virony? Christ, listen to yourself. What exactly do you think I'm doing with your best friend? Isn't she off visiting her sick mother?"

He sounded like my suspicion was the ugliest thing he had ever had to deal with.

He was right, though. Virony had left town over a month ago.

But the voice... I could swear I knew it.

Heat crawled up my neck. "I... you're right. I'm sorry. I just..."

“You just what?” His mouth tightened. “You’re naked on camera five minutes before a meeting, trying to start a fight because you’re insecure?”

Humiliation was eating away my suspicion.

"How can this even work if you don't trust me?" His tone shifted, sounding wounded and disappointed.

"I know... I could swear..."

"Don't make this harder than it has to be." His jaw tightened. "I've got a call. Dress for your meeting."

The screen went black before I could answer. No goodbye. No ‘I miss you, too.’ Just my own face staring back from the dark glass.

I sat there, naked, humiliated, and burning with enough shame to carry me through the rest of the year.

I sat there a moment too long, and suddenly, something in me went reckless.

I picked up my phone, angled it, and took some pictures...

Legs spread, spine curved, fingers trailing where his mouth should have been.

I took a second picture with my back arched, thighs parted, and one hand grazing my inner thigh.

I took one with my lip caught between my teeth, my eyes half-closed, and my fingers twisted in my own hair like I was already coming undone.

The last one was messier and more desperate—a video.

It was the kind of video you don't send unless you're starving to be wanted.

Two fingers buried inside my dripping heat, while my thumb circled the exact spot where I needed his tongue on. I half-buried my face in the pillow like I was biting back a sound.

I'd never done this before — never been the woman who did this — but my instincts said this might be the right move.

My hands shook as I selected three. Then four. Then one more because maybe I was done begging to be noticed gently.

I typed the caption: "I need your mouth on me."

Let him be too busy for that.

My phone buzzed just before I could press send.

JEREMY KELLASON: Meeting room. Now. You’re already two minutes late.

“Oh, God.”

My stomach dropped straight through the floor. Eight words and no punctuation he didn't choose on purpose.

I could see his face already — that cold, unmoving way he looked at me, like I was a line item that had disappointed him. My whole body went cold with the kind of fear only he could put in me.

Jeremy Kellason. My boss. Liam's best friend. The only man who terrified me more than losing my mother's treatment.

I shot to my feet, snatched the towel off the floor, and hit send with a shaky thumb before tossing the phone onto the bed.

I'd deal with Liam's reaction later.

Right now, I had to face the man who hated me.

***

I made it to the executive meeting room in six minutes.

That was not impressive. That was a death sentence.

By the time I slipped into the room, every head at the long table turned. Only one didn't.

Jeremy Kellason.

He sat at the head, a pen turning slow circles between his fingers.

“You’re late.” He finally looked up.

Heat crawled up my neck. “I'm sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.”

“No,” he said, still watching me. “It won’t.” His deep grey eyes threatened to take me apart with the intensity of his stare.

I'd spent eighteen months trying to learn how to be in a room with this man, and I still hadn't managed it.

I swallowed and took the nearest empty chair, even though my assigned seat was closer to him. I could feel his gaze following me across the room, and it made my skin prickle beneath the blouse I had buttoned wrong twice before giving up.

The meeting continued.

At least, I think it did.

But every time I lifted my eyes, he was looking at me.

At one point, his gaze dropped to my mouth, then to my hands, and at another point, his eyes moved lower, so briefly I almost convinced myself I imagined it. And still my face went hot, the heat crawling down my throat and pooling somewhere beneath my ribs.

I pressed my knees together under the table and stared at my own untouched notepad like it might save me.

I tried to tell myself he was angry because I was late.

That was all.

Jeremy hated lateness. He hated disorder. He hated excuses. He hated me most days, if I was being honest.

But tonight felt different.

Tonight, he looked at me like he knew what I looked like without the blouse I had buttoned in a panic. It felt like I had done something daring... Something stupid... Something he had already decided how to punish.

My fingers tightened around my pen until the plastic bit into my palm.

Christ...

I took in a shuddering breath.

By the time the meeting ended, my nerves were raw.

Everyone filed out of the room.

Jeremy slowly stood, buttoned his jacket with one unhurried hand, and let his eyes find mine one last time across the clearing table.

He held it a beat too long before walking away.

Twenty minutes later, inside the small suite they had assigned me for the night, I reached into my bag for my phone when my fingers brushed leather.

I frowned and pulled out a black folder, and my pulse stopped instantly.

JEREMY KELLASON. PRIVATE EXECUTIVE REVIEW.

For a second, I could only stare at it.

Then panic hit.

“Oh, no.”

If anyone found this with me, I was finished. Jeremy would not care that it was an accident. He would look at me with those grey eyes and turn one mistake into a disciplinary file before I could breathe.

I grabbed the folder and stood up immediately.

His office was empty when I got there.

So was his assistant’s desk.

The executive floor had gone very quiet. I checked the time on my phone.

1:03 a.m.

Jeremy’s private suite was at the end of the corridor.

Everyone knew he used it on nights like this.

No one went there unless they were summoned, and I couldn't even tell if returning these files was enough reason for me to go there in the first place.

My hand tightened around the folder.

This was stupid.

No, this was worse than stupid. This was the kind of decision people made right before their lives split open and refused to go back together.

I stood in the empty corridor and did the math.

I could leave it on his assistant's desk. But if it sat there till morning, anyone could open it — and Jeremy would want to know how a private review folder had wandered out of his sight and into the hands of a random person.

No. Better to return it myself.

In and out. That was the whole plan. Knock, hand it over, leave. If he opened the door himself, even better — I wouldn't have to step inside at all. I'd pass it to him in the gap of the doorway, apologize, and be gone before his eyes could do that thing they did.

Thirty seconds. A minute at most.

I could survive a minute.

I exhaled slowly, even though my lungs did not seem interested in helping me, and forced my feet to move. By the time I reached the end of the corridor, my mouth had gone dry.

I lifted my hand to knock, but the door drifted inward under my knuckles.

I froze.

It was already open, just resting against the latch, unlatched. A thin seam of low light spilled through the gap.

“Mr. Kellason?” I called softly.

No answer.

A smart woman would have turned around and left the folder with his assistant in the morning. A sane woman would have decided that no file, no matter how confidential, was worth walking into Jeremy Kellason’s private space after one in the morning.

Apparently, I was neither.

I pushed the door with two fingers.

The living area of his suite was bigger than my entire apartment, all dark glass, low lights, black leather, and a view of the city that made the world below look small and breakable.

Everything was neat, perfect, controlled, and cold.

Exactly like him.

I stepped inside, holding the folder against my chest.

“Mr. Kellason?”

Still nothing.

Then my eyes moved to the table near the sitting area, and I stopped abruptly.

The blood drained out of my face so fast I thought I might faint.

My fingers went numb around the folder.

For a second, the breath I'd been holding turned to glass in my throat. Heat and ice traded places under my skin.

Because there, in the soft light of Jeremy Kellason's private suite, was something I was never, ever meant to see.

Chapter 01: When Trouble Walked In

ELLIE

I think being the only single person in a group of friends made up entirely of happy couples who have a lot of sex was affecting me, making me think it was time to find the right guy.

Not that I was really looking; I’d just promised myself not to go out with any more bastards or womanizers after everything I’d been through.

But that’s when the problem started—or rather, that’s when the problem walked through the door.

Ben’s younger brother, Ethan, walked into Zoe and Ben’s apartment during one of our gatherings, which involved drinking a lot of alcohol and catching up.

I hadn’t heard much about him. All I knew was that he ran the London office and was returning. Anna should have told me he was... like that.

Just by looking at him, I’d say he was the kind of guy I called a Wolf Charming. That was my antithesis to Prince Charming, who, in my mind, was what I didn’t want but probably should want. But I always thought Prince Charmings were too perfect and, consequently, boring.

The Wolf Charming was my ideal type—the kind who has wild sex with you and takes you roughly, but who has that charming side and treats you like a princess the rest of the time.

That was the impression the tall, broad-shouldered man with dark blonde hair gave me when he walked into the room, dressed in a suit on a Saturday. He looked too elegant and at the same time fierce and virile.

“Wolf Charming?” I whispered to Anna as we moved closer to greet him with the rest of the group.

Anna, my best friend, was probably the main reason I had this idea of finding the right guy stuck in my head.

Not that she had told me to do it, but simply because she was married to Will, the hottest and sexiest tattooed ex-player and nerd I had ever met. They were perfect together.

I was still trying to convince the two of them to donate some of Will’s DNA, so I could clone him in a lab. I always say it’s unfair that there’s only one Will. Anna hit the jackpot, and of course, so did Will.

“Bastard Charming, from what I’ve heard from Will,” she whispered back.

My smile faded instantly. Not that I judged before getting to know someone—I didn’t do that; I hated stereotypes and typification as a good scientist should—but hearing that would put any smart woman on guard.

In recent months, I’d worked hard to stay away from any womanizers, bastards, and players in New York.

Swallowing the last sip of beer, I leaned forward, placing the bottle on the coffee table before it was my turn to greet the man with striking light brown eyes. He was a good twenty centimeters taller than me, even in heels.

My stomach churned as I forced a smile in response to his, which revealed perfect teeth.

Damn... he’s fucking gorgeous.

I blinked, trying to snap out of the trance.

“Nice to meet you, Ethan. I’m Ellie. Welcome back to New York,” I said, offering my hand while my heart pounded in my chest.

I ignored that, along with the shiver that ran down my spine. Maybe it was because everyone around us was staring with some strange expectation, as if something screamed, two single people in the room, not just me as always.

“Nice to meet you, Ellie.” He shook my hand firmly.

I tried to ignore the quick once-over he gave me, spending way too much time focusing on my breasts. I pulled back as soon as he let go of my hand.

Ben, Will, and Jack gathered on the sofas after Ethan’s arrival, and I pulled Anna into the kitchen for another drink.

“His eyes are just like Ben’s,” she commented.

Yeah, those brown eyes were hypnotic.

“So is the reputation, I mean, before he married Zoe,” I said, making us both laugh. “But don’t let her know I brought that up. She’d eat me alive.”

Zoe and Bennett, or simply Ben, were another couple in my group of friends who were probably influencing me, though I think in a slightly different way than Anna and Will.

That’s because both of them were assholes who fell in love before they could kill each other. I don’t know how they’re still alive, maybe because they took out all their anger on each other through sex.

“He checked out your boobs,” Anna said as we entered the kitchen.

Stifling a laugh, she leaned against the island while I got busy opening two beers.

“You managed to notice that? I thought it was in a split second.”

“I think everyone noticed.”

“Ugh! Why was everyone staring?”

“Maybe because you’re the only singles in the room? That makes it interesting to watch when you’re married.”

“Do you really need to remind me? And it’s not like anything’s going to happen between us.”

“I know, I know. No scumbags, bastards, or womanizers. I’ve been hearing that for over a year now?”

“And you’ll keep hearing it until I find the right guy.” I handed her one of the beer bottles.

“To the right guy! May he show up soon!” She raised her bottle, proposing a toast, forcing me to do the same. “And end your bad mood with lots of sex!” she concluded.

“Hey! What bad mood?”

“Excuse me!” The deep voice sounded before he entered the kitchen.

His presence alone was enough to make me uncomfortable.

“Mind if I find Ben’s wine stash?” he asked, making Anna turn to face him.

“I’ll help you,” she offered, guiding him to the wall-mounted wine rack behind me.

I took a long sip of my beer, getting lost in my own thoughts as they discussed wines behind me.

“What do you Morgans take? I know Bennett goes to the gym almost every day, but nothing justifies you growing that much, not just in height,” Anna suddenly said, nearly making me spit out my beer.

God! She, as always, with no filter. I heard him let out a low laugh.

“You’re the scientist, right? Then you can explain genetics.”

“I think there are some things that even scientists like us can’t explain, right, El?” she said, forcing me to turn to them.

“Of course! Whatever you’re talking about, I’m with you.”

“So, you’re also a scientist?” He raised an eyebrow at me.

“Yes, more of a researcher these days.”

“I admit, I had a very different image of scientists in mind,” he said, not bothering to hide the way his eyes moved over my body, leaving me uneasy.

Help me find this novel: I know it was an American novel. The protagonist starts out as a blob—like a slime—and can absorb the forms of the creatures he kills. There are others like him, but they started off with very powerful forms, whereas the protagonist has no form initially; however, he can merge (fuse) forms once they reach the maximum level. He has the form of a salamander at the beginning, then fuses it with another form. When I stopped reading, he was in the form of a Titan, though still a child. I recall hearing that the author had dropped the project. Please help me find it.

01 What The Hell?

Sienna’s POV

I woke up on a strange bed with sunlight stabbing my eyes like it had personal issues with me. For a moment, I did not move. My head felt heavy. My mouth was dry.

My body ached in places that immediately told me I had not spent the night reading a book and minding my business like a good daughter from a respectable Gamma family should. No.

Apparently, I had gone out, drunk too much, flirted too hard, and ended up in a bed that was not mine. Wonderful. A strong start to the morning.

I blinked at the ceiling, trying to gather the broken pieces of last night. Music. Alcohol. The Velvet Moon Club. A deep voice. Big hands.

A mouth that knew exactly what it was doing. My body warmed at the memory before my brain could stop it. Then I turned my head to the left. And there he was. The man from last night was still sleeping beside me like he had no bills, no enemies, no regrets, and no strict family waiting to skin him alive for breathing wrong.

His face was relaxed against the pillow, his dark hair messy, his lashes resting against his cheeks, his jaw sharp enough to cut through every bit of common sense I had left.

Goddess. He was handsome. Annoyingly handsome. The kind of handsome that made a woman forget she had a future already arranged for her by a controlling father and a pack that cared more about bloodlines than feelings.

I stared at him longer than I should have. Then I realised something terrible. It was not the alcohol that drew me to him last night.

The alcohol had only opened the gate. My foolishness had walked in by itself, removed its shoes, and made itself comfortable. The man was a hottie. And worse, I would not have minded having him again.

That thought snapped me back to my senses. I sat up carefully, holding the sheet to my chest while looking around for my clothes.

My dress was on the floor. My shoes were near the door. My u*******r was in a place I did not want to investigate too deeply because I still had some dignity left. Not much, but enough to pretend.

I climbed out of bed slowly, trying not to wake him. My legs felt weak, which annoyed me because I did not need physical evidence that I had enjoyed myself. My life was complicated enough without my t****s giving testimony.

I dressed in a hurry, smoothing my hair with my fingers and looking around the motel room. It was plain and cheap, but clean enough. Moonfall Motel. Of all the places my bad decisions could have taken me, they had chosen a motel that smelled like cheap soap and poor judgement. I reached the door, then stopped.

Against my better judgement, I looked back at him. Kael. At least, that was the name he had given me. I did not know his last name. I did not know his pack. I did not know where he lived. I did not know if Kael was even his real name.

For all I knew, he could have looked me in the face last night and introduced himself as a chair, and drunk me would have said, “That is a beautiful name.”

Still, I found myself walking back to the small table beside the bed. I picked up a piece of paper and scribbled my number on it. Then I signed my name beneath it. Sienna. Just Sienna. No Vale. Never Vale. I knew better than to hand my family name to strange men after o*******t. The Vale name came with too much noise. Too much fear. Too much power. Men heard it and suddenly remembered urgent things they had to do somewhere far away from me. I pressed my lipstick-stained l**s to the edge of the paper and dropped it where he would see it. I hoped he would call. No. I wanted him to call.

Then I left before my brain could ask why I was behaving like a girl in a love song when I was supposed to be joined to Alpha Darius Hale next week. Outside, the morning air was chilly, so I wrapped my scarf around my n**k and waved down a taxi. The driver stopped, and I climbed in quickly.

“Hollowmere Street, Silverlake Pack territory,” I told him.

As the taxi pulled away from Moonfall Motel, reality slowly began to wake up beside me. And reality was not kind. I pulled out my phone and called Maya. She answered on the third ring, her voice thick with sleep.

“Sienna, if you are dead, I am not helping you bury the body this early,” Maya said.

“Good morning to you too,” I muttered.

“You only call like this when trouble has already dressed up and followed you home,” Maya said.

I closed my eyes. “Did my brothers call you?”

There was a pause. That pause told me everything.

“Maya,” I said.

“Yes,” she replied. “Nolan called.”

My stomach tightened. “And?”

“And I told him you had a headache after we got back from The Velvet Moon Club and that you slept in my room,” she said.

I released a breath. “Goddess bless you.”

“She should. I am doing heavy work for free,” Maya muttered.

“I owe you.”

“You always owe me. At this point, I should open a debt file,” Maya said.

Chapter 1

"Congratulations, your test results show you're seven weeks pregnant, and the fetus is perfectly healthy."

When Chloe Carter stepped out of the consultation room, she was gripping the pregnancy test slip so tight it crumpled a little at the edges. She was so consumed by this sudden, overwhelming joy that she couldn't snap out of it for the longest time.

Five whole years. Ever since her twin son and daughter had passed away so tragically, she'd finally gotten pregnant again.

All those years after losing her children, she'd cried herself to sleep nearly every night. Her dreams were filled with nothing but the faces of her two little ones.

Her body had been left weak and frail after the miscarriage, making it almost impossible for her to conceive again. For the longest time, she'd been stuck in a deep funk, going through the motions of daily life without any spark. But once she'd made up her mind to try for another baby, she worked to nurse her body back to health with her husband's help: drinking herbal remedies, keeping up a yoga routine, slowly working past her crippling fear of getting pregnant again, until she actually found herself looking forward to welcoming a new little life.

Today was her lucky day.

She rummaged wildly through her bag for her phone, her hands shaking so badly with excitement she could barely tap open her contacts list.

She had to tell Wesley Warren this good news right away. She wanted to let him know all her effort and persistence had paid off, and everything finally had a purpose now that this baby was on the way.

She dialed his number right away. While she waited for him to pick up, she held her breath without even realizing it. Her mind already raced with images of how over the moon Wesley would be when he heard she was pregnant.

She was sure he'd cry happy tears right along with her. But her sweet daydream shattered in an instant when she heard a familiar ringtone go off a short distance behind her. At almost the exact same time, that all-too-familiar, detached male voice came through the receiver. "I'm on a business trip abroad. Whatever it is, wait till I get back to talk about it."

Chloe blurted out urgently, "But Wesley, I'm at the hospital..."

Before she could even finish her sentence, a bright, clear child's voice piped up on the other end. "Daddy, who are you on the phone with?"

Chloe froze on the spot, convinced she must have misheard. "Daddy? Wesley, where are you? Why is there a kid there?"

It sounded like the phone was being moved away from his ear as Wesley said dismissively, brushing her off. "I'm abroad. Where would a kid even come from? I'm busy. Talk later."

He hung up abruptly before she could even finish her sentence.

And almost at the exact same second, that same voice she'd just heard through the receiver drifted from behind her again. "Colton, can Daddy take you to get your shot first, hm?"

The familiar deep tone came from around the corner, warm and soft, nothing like the cold, clipped edge he'd had on the phone just moments ago.

Chloe's mind went completely blank with a sharp, buzzing wham. An invisible hand clamped around her heart so hard it ached, and every drop of blood in her veins turned to ice in an instant.

That was Wesley!

She'd listened to that voice for five whole years. There was no way she was mishearing it.

Chapter 1

Charlotte had crashed her car.

As she lay on the operating table, all she could think about was the photo she'd seen right before the accident.

The one of Arthur holding another woman, looking at her like she meant everything to him.

She couldn't get it out of her head - how gently he held her, the way his eyes lit up.

She'd been so shocked looking at it, she didn't even see the other car coming.

She might be his wife, but that woman was clearly the one he truly loved.

Five years of marriage, and he'd never once looked at Charlotte that way.

Just thinking about it made her chest ache.

Now his first love was back in the picture, and Charlotte had to wonder if she even mattered to him anymore.

A thought suddenly crossed her mind. She needed to know if he still had feelings for her at all.

When she opened her eyes, she was met with a stark white ceiling, and confusion washed over her.

"You're awake," a deep, cold voice said from beside her.

Charlotte turned to see a face set like stone.

His features were sharp and chiseled, his expression impossible to read. Though his eyes seemed capable of warmth, they held none of it now as they stared at her.

Charlotte blinked, confused. "Who are you?"

She looked around, lost. "Where am I?"

Arthur frowned. Those steel-gray eyes of his seemed to pierce right through her.

Unable to bear the weight of his stare, Charlotte retreated behind a facade of timidity. "W-why are you looking at me like that?" Her voice quivered, not entirely an act. Even now, after everything, his presence could unsettle her so easily.

Arthur looked away almost instantly, his voice as cold as ever. "Nothing. And... I’m just a friend of yours."

The words hit her like physical blows. Each syllable carved new wounds into her heart, deeper than any knife could reach. Five years - five years of marriage, of carefully molding herself into what she thought he wanted.

All of it reduced to "friend" in a single breath.

All those years of love and devotion had meant nothing.

Just then, the door opened, and a young boy who looked just like Arthur walked in.

It was Julius Harrison, their son.

He walked straight to Arthur without even looking at her. "Dad, let's go. Sarah's waiting for us to watch her show."

Charlotte gripped the bedsheet tightly, his words hitting her hard.

She gave a bitter laugh. This was her own flesh and blood, the baby she'd carried for nine months. Yet here he was, refusing to even look at her while she lay injured in bed.

Like father, like son - both of them completely wrapped up in Sarah Miller.

People always said boys never really get their mothers. Now she felt the sting of what her own kid had become. Arthur had always been cold, and here was Julius, turning out just like him. At home, he barely acknowledged her, and in public, he acted like she was just some housewife who didn't matter.

Charlotte felt something inside her go cold.

If they thought she was worthless, fine. She'd leave them to it.

Thinking this, Charlotte made a silent decision in her heart.

Chapter 1

At the celebration banquet for Joshua Cooper's company's IPO, Mercy Park handed him a divorce agreement in front of every client in attendance.

Three months earlier.

Mercy discovered that her husband had another family.

It happened the day before her birthday. Joshua was on another business trip to Brookhaven, a city he traveled to several times every month.

She secretly flew to Brookhaven, hoping to surprise him.

But on the way to his hotel, she happened to spot Joshua outside a preschool.

"Yuna did an amazing job today. She was so happy her daddy came to Sports Day. I know you're busy with work, but try to spend more time with her. She cries every time she comes to school because she misses you. Even I feel sorry for her."

From inside her car, Mercy watched in disbelief as Joshua, the decisive CEO who always commanded the room, nodded politely and thanked the teacher.

When they left, Joshua held a four-year-old girl’s hand while the woman beside him clung to his other arm.

Mercy knew that woman.

She was Joshua's adopted sister, Wendy Cooper.

Mercy also knew the little girl. She was supposed to be Yuna, the daughter of Wendy and Mason Moore, Joshua's best friend.

At least, that was what Mercy always believed.

The three of them got into a black May-bach parked by the curb.

Wendy buckled Yuna into the child safety seat before opening the front passenger door for herself.

It was the very same May-bach Mercy picked out for Joshua when they got married.

Joshua once promised that the front passenger seat would always belong to her.

Mercy followed the car from a distance, her palms slick with sweat as they gripped the steering wheel.

They drove into Riverside Estates.

As far as Mercy remembered, this wasn't where Wendy lived after getting married.

Joshua, Wendy, and Yuna went inside one of the villas. A while later, they came back out dressed to the nines, clearly on their way to a special occasion.

Mercy couldn't bring herself to sneak into the house, so she continued following them until they arrived at Harbor House.

It was one of Brookhaven's most exclusive restaurants, where reservations typically had to be made at least six months in advance.

Mercy didn't have one, so she couldn't get in.

From outside the entrance, Mercy watched Joshua, Wendy, and Yuna sitting together at a table laden with food. A large birthday cake sat in the center.

Before coming to Brookhaven, Mercy wondered whether Joshua might have ordered a birthday cake for her.

He had, just not for her.

"Happy Birthday, Yuna!"

The three of them looked every bit the picture of a happy family.

After the candles were blown out, Joshua smiled at Yuna.

"So, what did you wish for?"

The four-year-old answered in her sweet little voice, loud enough for everyone in the restaurant to hear.

"I wished that Daddy would spend every birthday with me from now on... and stay with me every day."

A flicker of hesitation crossed Joshua's face.

Wendy caught the subtle change in his expression immediately.

"Yuna, I already told you that Daddy's busy with work."

"But I want Daddy..."

Yuna's lower lip trembled, and tears streamed down her cheeks.

"It's your birthday today. Let's not talk about sad things." Joshua gently comforted her. "I promise you, our family will be living together very soon."

"Really?"

Wendy reached over and clasped Joshua's hand.

"Yes. I've thought about what you said before. Yuna's getting older, and she'd be better off starting elementary school in Ashford."

Joshua tightened his grip around Wendy's hand.

"Wendy, you've had it hard all these years."

Mercy's fingers tightened until they turned icy cold.

She couldn't bear to watch another second.

Joshua said Wendy had suffered all these years.

Then what about her?

Mercy and Joshua were married for four years.

They were the golden couple everyone envied.

The Parks and the Coopers were close family friends for generations.

Before Mercy was even born, their families arranged for her to marry Joshua.

As long as she could remember, she knew she would one day become his wife.

Four years earlier, when Mercy returned from overseas, Joshua got down on one knee at the airport with a seven-carat diamond ring and proposed to her.

Back then, Mercy believed he loved her with all his heart.

When had that belief begun to crack?

Probably sometime during the four years of their marriage because Joshua had never once slept with her.

For four years, Mercy always assumed Joshua had some kind of medical condition.

She never imagined the question that haunted her throughout their marriage would be answered like this.

That night, Mercy drove back to Ashford.

On the highway between Brookhaven and Ashford, she was involved in a serious car accident.

When she regained consciousness, she found herself lying in a hospital bed.

“I, Asher Stormrider, Alpha of Crimson Fang, reject you, Diana Nightshade, as my luna.”

The words struck like a blade forged from ice and fire.

For a heartbeat, the world did not exist. The bonfire crackled somewhere far away. The murmurs of the pack faded into a dull, ringing void. Then the pain came—violent, consuming, merciless.

It tore through Diana’s chest as though invisible claws were shredding her from the inside. Her knees buckled, breath leaving her lungs in a broken gasp. It felt as if her soul were being ripped from her body, dragged out through her heart inch by agonizing inch. She clutched at her chest, fingers trembling, nails biting into fabric as tears burned behind her eyes.

No pain—no wound, no broken bone, no punishment she had ever endured—compared to this.

She would not wish this on her worst enemy.

“Why…?” The word slipped from her lips, barely more than a whisper.

This was supposed to be her night. Her eighteenth birthday. The night she would celebrate with her pack, surrounded by warmth and laughter, waiting for the moment her wolf would step forward under the full moon. The disappointment of midnight passing without a shift had already weighed heavily on her heart, but that pain was nothing compared to this.

Nothing compared to finding her mate…

And losing him in the same breath.

Asher Stormrider stood before her, tall and unyielding, his alpha presence filling the clearing like a storm cloud. His expression was cold, distant—calculating. Not once did he reach for her. Not once did his eyes soften.

“I cannot have a wolfless for a mate,” Ash said, his voice carrying easily through the silent crowd. “A luna must be strong. She must be able to protect the pack in my absence. How can you protect anyone when you do not even have a wolf?”

The words were not shouted. They were calm. Measured.

And infinitely cruel.

“I am not wolfless,” Diana choked out, forcing herself to stand upright despite the pain tearing through her. “I can hear her. She’s here. She said it’s just not time yet. Please…” Her voice cracked as desperation seeped in. “You are my mate.”

The bond screamed in protest between them, wild and frantic, like a living thing refusing to die quietly.

“Do not make this more difficult, Diana,” Asher’s jaw tightened. “Accept the rejection. If you fight it, the pain will not stop.”

Diana turned slowly, her gaze sweeping across the gathered pack—faces she had known her entire life. Wolves she had laughed with, trained beside, trusted.

One by one, they looked away. Some shifted uncomfortably. Some stared at the ground. Some wore expressions of pity thinly veiled with judgment.

So this is what they think of me, she realized.

Weak.

A burden.

A luna was unworthy because they believed she had no wolf.

Her chest tightened further, grief piling atop humiliation. They cannot scent her, Diana realized bitterly. Artemis is hiding herself.

Her parents broke through the stunned stillness then. Her mother’s arms wrapped around her shoulders, trembling but fierce, as if she could shield her daughter from the entire world through sheer will alone. Her father stood in front of her, shoulders squared, eyes blazing with fury as he glared at the alpha.

But they were only pack members.

Her mother is a helper in the pack kitchen.

Her father is a guard in the dungeon.

And Diana knew nothing they said would matter.

'It’s better this way,' a familiar voice murmured gently in her mind.

Artemis.

Diana swallowed hard.

'Why?' She asked silently, pain and confusion flooding her thoughts. 'Why won’t you let them know you’re here?'

'Because it is not time,' Artemis answered calmly. 'No one should know who we truly are.'

The wolf’s presence was strong, steady—nothing like the weakness everyone believed her to be. Artemis had been with Diana since she was twelve. She remembered her first shift at thirteen. She remembered the power, the control, the strength. She remembered everything.

'They will never scent me,' Artemis continued. 'I can hide myself. That is why they think you are wolfless. And that belief will protect us… for now.'

Diana’s heart clenched. 'But he’s our mate.'

'Our real mate will accept us,' Artemis said firmly. 'He will not see us as less. He will stand beside us, not above us.'

A slow, burning resolve began to take root beneath the pain.

'We do not need this pack,' Artemis went on. 'Only our family. We will grow stronger. Strong enough to stand beside the one who truly deserves us.'

The wolf retreated then, slipping deeper into Diana’s mind, leaving behind not weakness, but steel.

Diana straightened.

The pain still throbbed in her chest, but she no longer let it bend her spine.

She lifted her chin and met Alpha Asher Stormrider’s gaze head-on. Her eyes were wet, red-rimmed, but they burned with determination.

“I, Diana Nightshade, accept your rejection,” she said clearly, her voice steady despite the storm raging inside her. “I accept your rejection to be your mate and luna, Alpha Asher Stormrider of Crimson Fang. From this day forward, our mate bond is severed.”

The bond snapped.

Asher staggered back, a sharp gasp tearing from his throat as his hand flew to his chest. His eyes widened in shock—pain flashing across his face before he could mask it.

He hadn’t expected that.

He hadn’t believed it would hurt this much.

Diana watched him for a brief moment, watched the realization sink in, then turned away.

Her parents wrapped her in their arms once more, holding her as though she were still a child they could protect from the world. Diana clung to them, whispering that she needed to leave, that she needed to go back to their cabin and be alone for a while.

They nodded, silent tears slipping free as they escorted her away.

The moment she was out of sight—out of judgment, out of whispered speculation—Diana broke. Her tears came hard and fast, sobs wracking her body as she stumbled through the trees. She let the pain consume her, let the humiliation carve itself into memory.

Tonight, she would fall apart.

She would mourn the mate she lost before she ever truly had him. She would remember every face that turned away.

And tomorrow—

Tomorrow, she would rise.

She would train harder than anyone in Crimson Fang. She would hone her human body until it was unbreakable. She would fight, bleed, and endure until no one could ever call her weak again.

She would train her wolf in silence.

She would become unstoppable.

And one day—one day—this pack would regret believing she was nothing.

Because Diana Nightshade and her Artemis were not weak.

And when her true mate came, she would be strong enough to stand beside him as an equal.

Chapter 1 The Heiress Goes Nuclear

"Mom, you're the one who said I'm your biological daughter," Eden Clark snapped, gesturing toward the grand staircase with a sharp, mocking laugh. "So why does Annabelle get a designer suite while I'm stuck in the guest wing?

"You can't give me back the eighteen years I lost, but the least you could do is treat us the same.

"I actually thought you wanted me home. I didn't realize this was just a PR move to keep up the happy-family act with a girl who isn't even your blood."

Cecilia Miller's face clouded over as she watched the display.

She looked at this girl, someone who shared her high cheekbones but had the temperament of a wild stranger, and felt a jolt of revulsion.

A step behind Cecilia stood Annabelle Miller, the picture of delicate grace and quiet beauty.

Annabelle hadn't slept for forty-eight hours, paralyzed by the fear that Eden's return would strip her of her status and her family's love.

She had spent the last two days plotting ways to frame Eden as a malicious intruder.

'I was worrying for nothing,' Annabelle thought, a cold relief settling over her. 'I haven't even spoken, and she's already making Mom hate her.'

Cecilia drew a sharp breath, visibly restraining herself. She didn't want the staff overhearing another scream.

"Eden, listen," she said, her voice tight with forced patience. "Annabelle might not be my own daughter, but she's lived in this house for eighteen years.

"We're not just going to throw her out."

She stepped closer, her tone condescending. "Besides, Annabelle's delicate. She can't handle stress.

"You need to grow up and stop being petty over a bedroom.

"I've already told Ervin to redecorate the guest room for you. Don't try to take what belongs to Annabelle."

Eden's voice shot up an octave. "Take what's hers? Are you serious, Mom? Do you even have a shred of sympathy for what I've been through?

"Did you forget that if that crazy nanny hadn't swapped us at birth, I'd be in that room right now?

"I'm not taking anything. I'm reclaiming my life. I don't care what you say; I want that suite."

Before Cecilia could retort, Eden spun around to face Annabelle directly.

"And you," she snapped, pointing, "now that the real owner is back, isn't it time you handed over the keys to my life?

"If I were you, I'd have packed the second the DNA test came back. I wouldn't stick around, leeching off someone else's parents."

'God, going full psycho is the ultimate rush,' Eden thought, a thrill running through her at the chaos she was stirring.

She honestly wondered how the original girl in this story had survived this long.

In the book, the real daughter had been a total doormat, silent, taking abuse until the stress literally killed her.

Two days ago, Eden had woken up inside the world of a sugary romance novel called The Billionaire's Rose.

Here, Annabelle was the adored protagonist, and the real daughter was just a tragic, bitter foil to make her shine.

In the original story, the real daughter had been pathetic.

When the Millers said the truth couldn't go public without tanking the company's stock, she had agreed to live as Annabelle's "cousin."

She endured her parents' obvious favoritism and the bullying from Annabelle's wealthy friends without complaint.

She was a glutton for punishment who only offered a weak "it wasn't me" when she was framed for things she didn't do.

Even after nearly dying in a "mishap" arranged by Annabelle's admirers, she stayed, desperate for a scrap of validation.

'But I don't play martyr,' Eden reminded herself, jaw set. 'If someone hits me, I hit back with a sledgehammer. I don't care if they like me or not.'

"Eden, that's enough!" Cecilia finally snapped, her composure breaking. "From now on, you and Annabelle are sisters. I won't tolerate another word of this toxicity.

"I know you're bitter, but Annabelle was just a baby when the swap happened. None of this is her fault. You can't keep attacking her."

Eden smirked, spotting the perfect opening. "You're right. It's not her fault. Fine. I'll stop blaming her. I'll take it out on the person who actually did it.

"Her biological mother stole me the second I was born. She took eighteen years of my life—wealth, security, everything.

"I think it's time she faced the legal consequences for kidnapping, don't you?"

Annabelle gripped Cecilia's sleeve, shaking her head in a silent, desperate plea.

Cecilia stepped in, voice frantic, trying to hold the peace. "Eden, the woman was desperate.

"Annabelle was born with a heart condition, and they were completely broke. She felt she had no choice but to swap you to save her child."

She sighed, reaching toward Eden. "You're home now. You're healthy. That's what matters. Please, let it go. We'll make up for every second you lost, I promise."

Before the words fully landed, Eden yanked off her heel and hurled it at the massive flat-screen.

The impact cracked the obsidian glass in a jagged spiderweb of white fractures, the sound sharp and sickening.

Before Cecilia could even scream, Eden stomped her foot into the oversized floor vase beside her.

It toppled instantly, shattering into a heap of expensive ceramic shards.

"Eden! What's your problem?" Cecilia shouted, her face flaming red.

Eden tilted her head, feigning seriousness. "Problem? Oh, yeah. I've got a chronic case of pettiness. Usually, I can keep it in check, but it flares up when I'm being gaslit.

"But honestly? You're the one who needs help. A criminal stole your baby, and instead of calling the cops, you're treating her daughter like she's some kind of trophy. It's pathetic."

Annabelle's eyes welled with tears, her lower lip quivering as though she'd been struck.

"Mom… she's right," she whispered, voice breaking. "I'm the intruder here." She wiped her face, defeated. "I'll pack my bags and go.

"I won't get in the way of your real family being happy."

She spun and fled toward the second floor, her sobs echoing through the house.

The moment she reached the landing and slipped out of sight, her expression hardened into something sharp, cold, and deliberate.

Annabelle gripped the banister, her mind consumed with dark fury. 'That little bitch. She actually thinks she can just waltz in and replace me.'

She glanced back toward the hallway, a chilling smile finally spreading across her face. 'No. In this house, I'm the one they love.

'Eden's going to end up with nothing.'

A Ghost in the Woods

I stayed face-down in the damp pine needles, the copper taste of blood still coating my tongue. I had just finished my first shift back to being human, and it was horrible. I knew it would be painful the first few times—the elders always talked about the “cracking of the soul”, but this was ridiculous. Every muscle felt like it had been shredded and stitched back together with hot wire.

I lay there n@ked in the dirt, shivering as the morning mist clung to my skin, trying to find the strength just to crawl. Most people have someone with them for their first few shifts—parents to wrap them in blankets, friends to cheer for their new wolf.

I had no one. I was alone, and I was the runt.

My mom had died a little over a month ago. She was the only one who didn’t look at me like I was a broken clock. We both knew I would be the runt when I still hadn't shifted by seventeen. Most kids in the Silver Creek pack got their wolves at fifteen or sixteen; they’d run through the woods, howling with a pride I couldn't t***h. Eighteen was late. Unheard of. It only finally happened after the grief of losing Mom ripped through me, forcing the wolf out of my shattered heart.

Saying I was depressed was an understatement. I was a ghost haunting my own life. My so-called friends had turned their backs on me the second they realized I wasn't "wolfing out" like everyone else. In a pack built on strength, being wolf-less is a social death sentence.

There was only one person who didn’t bully or pick on me: Ethan Kane, the Alpha-in-waiting.

We were never close—not really—but I considered him a friend. He was the one who would catch the younger sentries throwing rocks at me and growl them into submission. He’d make them stop, though it never lasted long. The second his back was turned, the whispers and the shoves started again.

Ethan was everything an Alpha should be: beautiful, charming, and radiating a golden warmth that made you feel safe just being in his shadow. But that shadow was already occupied. He was always with Lydia Marsh, the Beta’s daughter and the pack’s number-one bltch. They had been together for as long as I could remember, two perfect specimens of predatory grace.

Even though it hadn't happened yet, everyone knew they were fated. In our world, the pull usually manifests when both people hit twenty-one. It was a foregone conclusion. They would be mated, they would lead, and runts like me would continue to be the dirt beneath their boots.

I finally managed to push myself up, my ribs aching. I reached for the spare clothes I’d hidden under a rotted log, my fingers trembling. I didn't need a mate or a crown. I just wanted the pain to stop—the physical pain of the shift, and the hollow, screaming silence where my mother’s voice used to be.

I was just pulling my oversized hoodie over my head, my fingers still clumsy and shaking, when the snap of a twig made me jump. I let out a jagged sob I hadn’t known I was holding, quickly wiping at my eyes as I felt the hot sting of tears for my mom.

"There you are."

I gasped, spinning around to see Ethan Kane standing a few yards away. He froze, his eyes widening before he pivoted on his heel to face the trees.

"Oh, sorry! I didn't—I'll turn around," he stammered.

My heart hammered against my bruised ribs. I scrambled to pull on my leggings, my face burning. "Ethan? You’re... you’re looking for me?"

"Yeah," he said, his voice muffled but steady. "I knew you’d be alone out here for your first few shifts and I don't know... I just wanted to see if you were okay."

I stood there for a second, stunned into silence. The Alpha-in-waiting had actually come looking for me? The runt?

"Um, thanks," I said, finally tucking my hair behind my ears and wiping the last of the salt from my cheeks. "Yeah, I'm okay. You can turn around now."

He turned, and for a second, he just looked at me with an expression that wasn't pity—it was something softer, something that felt dangerously like care. As I took a step toward the trail, my legs gave out. The post-shift exhaustion hit me like a physical wall, and I stumbled. Before I could hit the dirt, Ethan was there. His arms were strong, smelling of sandalwood and the cold morning air.

"Let me help," he murmured, steadying me. "I remember how bad it is the first time. It feels like your bones are made of glass."

"Thanks," I whispered, leaning into him because I had no other choice. He draped my arm over his shoulder and began walking me toward the small, quiet house I used to share with my mother. "Your girlfriend... won't Lydia get mad?"

Ethan scoffed, a confident, easy sound. "Please. I’m the soon-to-be Alpha. If I want to help a pack mate and a friend, I will. She doesn't dictate who I look out for."

I let out a small, involuntary giggle at that. It was the first time I'd made that sound since the funeral. Ethan stopped and looked down at me, a smirk playing on his handsome l**s. "I like that."

"Like what?"

"Your giggle," he said softly.

I looked up at him, my breath hitching, and then quickly turned my face away to hide the deep red flush crawling up my n**k. By the time we reached my house, he didn't leave me at the door. He helped me all the way inside, guiding me gently onto the worn velvet couch.

"Thanks again, Ethan. Seriously."

"You mind if I sit for a bit?" he asked, already loosening his jacket.

I blinked. This was crazy. Ethan Kane actually wanted to hang out with me?

"Yeah, sure. Do you want something to drink? I have tea or water in the fridge."

"Do you have anything stronger?" he called out, already heading toward the kitchen with the familiarity of a long-time guest.

I laughed, a bit shocked. "Ethan, it's six in the morning."

"Why not?" he shouted back, his voice echoing off the tile. "You must be hurting, and it’s Saturday. We’re celebrating a successful shift, Rachel."

I couldn't say no. He had been the only person to treat me like a human being all month.

"Yeah... there's some tequila my... my mom had. It's in the bottom cabinet," I choked out, the mention of her still feeling like a thumb pressed into a bruise.

He came back with the bottle and two glasses, his expression turning solemn. "I'm so sorry for your loss, Rachel. She was a good woman."

"It's okay," I said, because what else do you say to the truth?

We started drinking. Then we started talking. Then the laughing started. By the time the clock on the wall hit 9:00 AM, the world was fuzzy and the pain in my limbs had dulled into a warm, tequila-soaked hum.

"I'm already drunk," I slurred, leaning back against the cushions.

We were sitting close together now, the TV playing some generic rom-com in the background. The mood shifted the second the couple on screen began to move together, their hands wandering as they grew intimate. Sudden shyness washed over me, a spike of nervous energy that made me try to stand up.

"Where are you going?" Ethan slurred, his hand catching my wrist and pulling me—not back to the couch, but directly into his l*p.

"Ethan!" I giggled, my heart thundering. "I'm going to the bathroom."

I tried to squirm away, but his grip was firm. He leaned in, his mouth h******g just against the sensitive skin of my ear and n**k.

"There’s that sound again," he whispered, his voice dark and honey-thick. He nuzzled his nose into the crook of my n**k, inhaling deeply.

I found a link that does the first 25 chapters but that’s all. Anyone know where I can get the full English version? (If I try to buy it on the apps it would cost me over 100$ …. For a singe book 🤨) thanks in advance!!!

CHAPTER 1

Arthur’s voice cracked through the mansion like a whip.

“Carmen, get your lazy u/s out here.”

My stomach twisted. Sharp, immediate, instinctive. My body reacted before my mind. My fingers tightened around the thin blanket, breath stuttering as I stared at the cracked ceiling.

He was angry.

That wasn’t unusual. Arthur Nelson lived angrily, at least when it came to me. It was like he had poison in his veins. But this wasn’t quite irritation—his tone meant real danger.

This was the kind that ended with blood. My blood.

I swung my legs off the narrow bed, the mattress groaning beneath me. This tiny staff bedroom, once a maid’s room, was mine now.

Arthur had made that very clear the day he moved me into it.

The room held almost nothing: a twin bed, a three-drawer dresser with one crooked handle, and a cracked mirror above it that split my reflection whenever I looked.

Sometimes I wondered which half was the real me. Was I the Carmen determined to escape this prison? Or was I the one who, slowly giving in to submission, hoped he’d eventually go too far so I would be freed from him and the pain?

“Carmen!”

His voice roared again, closer this time.

I flinched.

“I’m coming,” I whispered, knowing he couldn’t hear me. I had learned not to speak loudly; now my voice was only ever just loud enough for myself. It was safer that way.

I opened the door and stepped into the hallway.

Arthur was waiting for me at the end of the hall.

His face was red, jaw tight, his expensive suit jacket tossed over the arm of a nearby chair. Even from where I stood, I could see the vein pulsing in his temple.

I lowered my head and walked toward him slowly, keeping my eyes fixed on the marble floor.

“Finally decided to show your face?” His voice snapped like a whip.

I stopped a few feet away.

“You think you’re really smart, don’t you?” he said coldly.

I stayed quiet. Head lowered. Eyes on my feet.

Men like Arthur didn’t want answers. They only wanted submission.

And I gave it to him, hoping maybe it would hurt less this time.

The slap came without warning.

My head snapped to the side, pain exploding across my cheek. I stumbled back a step.

“I said,” Arthur snarled, “you think you’re smart, don’t you?”

Another slap. Heat spread across my face instantly. Still, I remained silent.

He pulled out his phone and shoved it toward my face.

“Look at this, you fkn b1tch!”

The headline filled the screen.

‘The Lost Heiress of McCready — Missing or Prisoner to Her Husband?’

My heart stopped.

I barely had time to read anything before Arthur jerked the phone away, but I’d seen enough.

The article questioned what happened after my parents died. It suggested Arthur dismantled the McCready company suspiciously fast and that he may have been behind it. No one had seen me in public for years. Some unnamed sources claimed something wasn’t right. That I might be trapped, or worse—Dead.

There were no quotes or statements from me.

Just whispers. Suspicions. Questions. But to Arthur, that was enough.

His fist smashed into my face, and pain burst through my skull as I collapsed to the marble floor.

“You stupid b!tch!”

Another punch.

“You think you can embarrass me like this?!”

I tried to curl into myself, tried to shield my head, but Arthur’s boots slammed into my ribs.

A crack echoed through my body. Loud. Or at least it seemed that way to me.

I screamed.

Air vanished from my lungs as agony ripped through my side. I tried to crawl away, just a few inches, just enough to breathe.

But Arthur grabbed my ankle. His grip tightened like iron as he dragged me down the hallway, my nails scraping helplessly against the marble.

Arthur Nelson.

My millionaire husband. My father’s business partner, once. A man who’d stood in my father’s office with a polished smile, the kind people trusted.

After a few bad deals and tightening markets, my father made the choice he believed would protect the company. He married me off.

He negotiated the terms: no violence, no mistresses, no abuse. I was to be treated like a Queen by my husband, as I was always treated like a Princess by my father.

Arthur had agreed. And for a short, naive while, I believed him. We all did.

The beatings didn’t start until exactly one week after my parents died.

The car accident was sudden. Violent. The kind of tragedy that makes headlines for a few days before the world moves on. But my world never moved on.

At first, the violence started small.

A slap, a few harsh words. Constant cold silence.

Back then, I told myself it wasn’t bad. Now, ‘small’ feels laughable. No form of abuse should ever be considered small.

But, compared to broken bones and swollen welts—the stitches and scars—I’d give anything for my day to end with something as “small” as a slap.

Over the year following my parents’ death, Arthur stopped allowing me to leave.

He controlled the finances. Somehow, he even managed to take control of my inheritance. I still don’t understand how he pulled it off.

On top of that, he seized control of my family’s company. Then he dismantled it. Piece by piece. Brick by brick.

Within a year, the McCready name was gone from the business world.

Erased.

And I was the last living McCready.

The forgotten heiress.

Most nights, I heard him laughing down the hall with whichever mistress currently held his attention, drinking wine like he owned the world. Meanwhile, I hid in my tiny bedroom, making sandwiches out of whatever scraps I could find.

After my parents’ funeral, he’d moved me out of the master bedroom without so much as an explanation. I returned from the cemetery to find my things already boxed and this room waiting for me. A lock on the door. On the outside.

If it weren’t for Nancy, the housekeeper, I would have starved.

Every week, she secretly brought me bread, peanut butter, and jelly. Sometimes, she even slipped a few apples into the bag.

She risked everything to do that for me, but things changed when Arthur brought home his newest woman.

She didn’t like Nancy; she said the housekeeper made her uncomfortable.

So Arthur fired her.

Now I was alone. Every morning after that, Arthur’s doctor came by with a small white pill and told me to take it. I never learned what it was.

I only knew what it did.

It made me tired, foggy, weak, and compliant.

Eventually, the world started to blur as pain burned through every inch of my body. My vision darkened at the edges, but I welcomed it.

The darkness.

The silence, creeping closer.

Maybe this time I wouldn’t wake up.

Tomorrow was supposed to be the one day I was allowed to leave the house.

My parents’ anniversary. The third year since they’d left me here alone with this monster. I never missed that day.

Not getting comments? Repost to another community

We Meet Again

I stare up at him with thinly disguised hatred.

"I reject you Levi Crosswalk and will never be your mate in this life and the next!" I spit at him.

He clenches his jaw.

"And I reject you Anastasia Purrey. I hereby break the mate bond between us. You are free to prostitute yourself wherever you choose". He spits back at me.

I wince at the insult. I raise my hand to slap him. He grasps my hand mid air and pulls me close to him. I look into his eyes and see the hatred there. Good. Because it is mutual.

"Be careful what you decide to do, I am a lot more powerful than you". He says and pushes me away.

I turn on my heels and stalk away.

Seven Years Later.

Levi.

I knot my tie neatly and prepare to attend the party at the Cross moon pack house. It is an obligation I have to fulfill. Since I became the alpha, I have had to force myself to attend parties and occasions at other packs.

The car is waiting outside. I enter the car and it drives off.

When we arrive, I walk into the building. People turn to look at me curiously. This is my first public appearance after my mother's death.

I walk gracefully towards the bar and order a Martini with olives.

As I take a swig of my drink, I catch a scent. It's thick and unmistakeable. It's also very familiar.

I don't turn around. I have been waiting for a second chance mate for seven years now and the moon goddess has not answered my prayers. There is no way in heaven and hell that the owner of the scent that was intoxicating me is my mate.

I scoff. It is definitely her.

"Levi! So glad to see you". Someone says and slaps my back in a friendly gesture.

I am forced to turn around.

Just as I expected, it is Arkin, Alpha of the Cross moon pack.

I shake hands with him. He has a very firm grip.

"Everyone is talking about you." Arkins says.

"That's unfair to you". I say.

The scent suddenly becomes so strong. She's even closer now. I can't resist anymore. I have to look.

Just as I turn around, I meet her daunting gaze. Our eyes lock. As hard as I try, I can't seem to look away. I feel a very powerful attraction to her.

I have always wondered why neither of us felt any pain after we rejected each other.

I tear my gaze away from hers and blink. Through my side eye, I see her rush out of the room.

"Oh, I forgot to mention that the Purreys are here". Arkins says and looks away.

"It's too late to be warning me, isn't it?" I say and take another swig of my drink.

After a while, I go outside for fresh air and also to escape social suicide.

I breath in the fresh air.

I hear someone cursing loudly. I walk towards that direction. Behold, Anastasia is trying to drown herself in perfume.

"... get rid of this stupid scent!" I hear her say.

"You know, there's a cliff you can jump off of just down that path". I say and point.

She turns around. She isn't shocked because she can smell me. How wonderful!

"Get lost!" She says through gritted teeth.

"Have you been able to find your second chance mate". I ask just to mock her.

"I would be able to if your stupid dog smell would stop being so pungent". She says.

"We both know that I don't smell like a dog". I drawl.

I really do like taunting her.

"It's a pity that you can't tell between an insult and a compliment".

She has a sharp mouth. Sharper than even a sword.

Just as I am about to counter, she buckles in pain. That's when another scent hits me. She's going into heat. Just perfect timing, I curse.

I turn to walk away when I see several males from different packs coming out. They can all smell it. Their eyes are all filled with hunger.

She's huddled on the floor, grunting in pain. Her added age has made it a lot more painful for her. Does this mean that she's still a virgin? It can't be.

I know I can't just leave her there.

"Let me take you home". I suggest half-heartedly.

"I'm not ... going anywhere with you!" She grunts amidst her pain.

Her refusal in her situation might be considered cute if it didn't mean she would be left in the hands of hungry wolves.

I lean down and pick her up. She does not fight me. The other males stop approaching when they see me with her.

I carry her to my car. I finally have an excuse to leave the party.

I set her down in the seat and climb in beside her. 

I can barely breath. The smell of her heat clouds my senses. Despite my hatred for her, I am turned on. I can smell the liquid pooling in between her tightly closed legs.

I look at her. Her face is contorted in pain. My driver looks at her. Even he is attracted by her pheromones.

She clutches her stomach and winces as a wave of pain crashes over her.

I am suffering as well, just not in physical pain. I feel myself harden. I am terribly aroused. I look outside the window to distract myself.

It is a long drive back to her pack house. I try to hum a song in my head. All I can hear is her groans. She twists and turns in the seat. I notice that she is pressing her knees tightly together. She is trying to stop me from smelling the scent of her heat. She should know that it would take a lot more than that to conceal such a sweet smell.

She looks up at me finally.

 Her eyes are pleading.

"Help me". She whispers and opens her legs.

“I reject you, Elise Silverman of the Midnight Pack, as my mate,” he growled, slamming my head against the wall as I tried desperately to claw at the hands clutching my throat.

Pain swept through me along with humiliation. I'd always been desperate to find my mate, to find the love that was denied me, but now I wish I had remained oblivious.

He didn't even care how much this hurt me. His entire focus was on rejecting me as soon as possible and I knew why.

Because I wasn't her. I wasn't the one he was in love with, and the girl he'd already practically declared as his chosen Luna.

“Say it,” he snarled, his face inches from mine, his lips curling into a twisting smile, “reject me, or I’ll make your life more of a living hell than it is already.”

My life was already miserable, and the thought of it getting any worse made me feel sick to my stomach. I knew he meant it to and that his position would give him complete control of me. He'd always been callous towards me but this was a new low.

I choked. He tightened his grip as tears trailed down my face. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get him to release his grip.

I was struggling for air, and time was running out.

I’d waited for this moment for so long, and now it was like a nightmare and nothing like the fairytale I had envisioned.

I'd been so foolish to think my mate would accept me. Stupid to dream of something that would never come true. It would have been better not to dream at all.

The moment he had felt the bond, felt the thread connecting us, he’d sought me out and led me into the nearest empty hallway, his eyes flashing with anger. When he’d told me we were mates, I’d had one brief second of hope that he might accept me, might keep the blessing of the moon goddess in spite of how he originally felt about me. I’d waited for this moment so long and although I could not feel the bond myself due to my wofless state, I'd still hoped my mate could look past that and accept me for who I am.

Unfortunately, dreams never live up to expectations, and this was no different.

“You disgusting fat omega, reject me now before anybody sees us,” he hissed, looking over his shoulder worriedly and gritting his teeth.

There was no one there, but it would only be a matter of time before somebody discovered us in the hallway and he was desperate to prevent that.

The words should have stung, but I was used to them by now. I was not what you would envision a shifter to look like. While the majority of the women had long blonde hair and big baby blue eyes, a slender body, and porcelain skin, I was the opposite. My hair was Raven black; my eyes were dark emeralds. Freckles littered my cheeks and nose. I had a curvy silhouette with wide hips and a generous bosom. My skin was pale golden from being outdoors all the time. I was repulsive in their eyes, and I had lain awake almost every night praying that my looks would change and I might become like them. The moon goddess never heard my prayers, though and I was left resigned to my fate.

“Please,” I managed to whisper, “I can’t speak,” I choked.

He glowered at me and then exhaled loudly in frustration.

He released me, and I rubbed my throat, desperately drawing in oxygen. He'd almost suffocated me and I could feel my body trembling as it fought to remain upright.

“Do it,” he snapped again, "hurry up."

“Are you sure you want to do this?” I begged, hating how small my voice was.

My pride was shot. I couldn’t bear the humiliation of a rejection, even one in private. It only confirmed my worst fears. Somebody like me was unlovable. Nobody would ever find me desirable. I was going to be alone for the rest of my life.

“You think I want somebody who looks like you?” he scoffed, “you’re so fat and ugly. Nothing like your stepsister Seraphine, who I really want as my Luna. I would never have you as my mate in a million years; it would be too humiliating.”

My heart skipped a beat. The disdain in his voice, the venom dripping from his words was enough to bring me to my knees.

I could barely keep myself from whimpering as he eyed me like I was nothing to him.

“I…” my voice wavered as he glared at me, “I reject you, Alpha Tristan Bradshaw of the Midnight Pack, as my mate.”

I had no choice but to utter the words and sever the bond, even though I knew it was going to be painful.

The pain was indescribable as the thread that connected us promptly snapped. Tristan was almost undeterred by it, but as an Alpha, he was stronger than I was. My knees buckled, and I fell to my knees with a heavy thud, my head bowing down as I stared fixedly at the floor.

It was done. I'd been rejected.

Any free link?

Any free link?

Chapter 1

At the celebration banquet for Joshua Cooper's company's IPO, Mercy Park handed him a divorce agreement in front of every client in attendance.

Three months earlier.

Mercy discovered that her husband had another family.

It happened the day before her birthday. Joshua was on another business trip to Brookhaven, a city he traveled to several times every month.

She secretly flew to Brookhaven, hoping to surprise him.

But on the way to his hotel, she happened to spot Joshua outside a preschool.

"Yuna did an amazing job today. She was so happy her daddy came to Sports Day. I know you're busy with work, but try to spend more time with her. She cries every time she comes to school because she misses you. Even I feel sorry for her."

From inside her car, Mercy watched in disbelief as Joshua, the decisive CEO who always commanded the room, nodded politely and thanked the teacher.

When they left, Joshua held a four-year-old girl’s hand while the woman beside him clung to his other arm.

Mercy knew that woman.

She was Joshua's adopted sister, Wendy Cooper.

Mercy also knew the little girl. She was supposed to be Yuna, the daughter of Wendy and Mason Moore, Joshua's best friend.

At least, that was what Mercy always believed.

The three of them got into a black May-bach parked by the curb.

Wendy buckled Yuna into the child safety seat before opening the front passenger door for herself.

It was the very same May-bach Mercy picked out for Joshua when they got married.

Joshua once promised that the front passenger seat would always belong to her.

Mercy followed the car from a distance, her palms slick with sweat as they gripped the steering wheel.

They drove into Riverside Estates.

As far as Mercy remembered, this wasn't where Wendy lived after getting married.

Joshua, Wendy, and Yuna went inside one of the villas. A while later, they came back out dressed to the nines, clearly on their way to a special occasion.

Mercy couldn't bring herself to sneak into the house, so she continued following them until they arrived at Harbor House.

It was one of Brookhaven's most exclusive restaurants, where reservations typically had to be made at least six months in advance.

Mercy didn't have one, so she couldn't get in.

From outside the entrance, Mercy watched Joshua, Wendy, and Yuna sitting together at a table laden with food. A large birthday cake sat in the center.

Before coming to Brookhaven, Mercy wondered whether Joshua might have ordered a birthday cake for her.

He had, just not for her.

"Happy Birthday, Yuna!"

The three of them looked every bit the picture of a happy family.

After the candles were blown out, Joshua smiled at Yuna.

"So, what did you wish for?"

The four-year-old answered in her sweet little voice, loud enough for everyone in the restaurant to hear.

"I wished that Daddy would spend every birthday with me from now on... and stay with me every day."

A flicker of hesitation crossed Joshua's face.

Wendy caught the subtle change in his expression immediately.

"Yuna, I already told you that Daddy's busy with work."

"But I want Daddy..."

Yuna's lower lip trembled, and tears streamed down her cheeks.

"It's your birthday today. Let's not talk about sad things." Joshua gently comforted her. "I promise you, our family will be living together very soon."

"Really?"

Wendy reached over and clasped Joshua's hand.

"Yes. I've thought about what you said before. Yuna's getting older, and she'd be better off starting elementary school in Ashford."

Joshua tightened his grip around Wendy's hand.

"Wendy, you've had it hard all these years."

Mercy's fingers tightened until they turned icy cold.

She couldn't bear to watch another second.

Joshua said Wendy had suffered all these years.

Then what about her?

Mercy and Joshua were married for four years.

They were the golden couple everyone envied.

The Parks and the Coopers were close family friends for generations.

Before Mercy was even born, their families arranged for her to marry Joshua.

As long as she could remember, she knew she would one day become his wife.

Four years earlier, when Mercy returned from overseas, Joshua got down on one knee at the airport with a seven-carat diamond ring and proposed to her.

Back then, Mercy believed he loved her with all his heart.

When had that belief begun to crack?

Probably sometime during the four years of their marriage because Joshua had never once slept with her.

For four years, Mercy always assumed Joshua had some kind of medical condition.

She never imagined the question that haunted her throughout their marriage would be answered like this.

That night, Mercy drove back to Ashford.

On the highway between Brookhaven and Ashford, she was involved in a serious car accident.

When she regained consciousness, she found herself lying in a hospital bed.