
His Defiant Luna: The Return Of The Exiled Mate
Just hours after I endured a grueling labor to give Kaelen, my fated mate and the Alpha, two beautiful twins, he walked into the infirmary.
Instead of holding our newborns, his Alpha aura pinned me to the bed as he coldly announced, "I reject you as my mate."
He claimed I reeked of another Alpha. His sister Vanessa threw a stack of photos at my face, showing me at a cafe with a broad-shouldered man. Before I could even explain, Kaelen forced a pen into my trembling hand while I was still bleeding, making me sign away my parental rights. His mother then snatched my newborn son Liam from the crib.
"Take the girl and get out of my territory," Kaelen commanded, leaving me in the freezing room with my severed mate-bond and my crying daughter.
I didn't understand how our sacred bond could be shattered by a single fake photo, or how my fated mate could be so blind and ruthless as to rip my baby from my arms.
Five years later, his precious heir is dying, and Kaelen desperately needs an alliance and a bone marrow donor. But when he finally sees me at a high-society gala, he doesn't find a broken, exiled Omega.
He finds me standing beside that very same "lover"—Dominic, the Alpha of the Silverwood Pack, my older brother. And this time, I am the one holding the blade.
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Chapter 3
Kaelen POV
Hours after condemning myself to a loveless union, I stood before the floor-length mirror in my private suite, adjusting the cuffs of my custom tailored suit. I looked like the powerful Alpha of the Black Moon Pack, but inside I felt like a hollowed out corpse.
Traitor! My inner wolf Draegan roared, his claws tearing at the edges of my consciousness. You commit a greater sin to atone for a mistake!
I gripped the edge of the mahogany vanity, my knuckles whitening. Before I could force Draegan into submission, the door clicked open. Cassondra swept into the room, her lavish gown rustling. Her suffocating, artificially floral perfume assaulted my senses, a pathetic attempt to mask her painfully mediocre wolf scent.
"The florist says winter roses will be perfect for the ceremony," she gushed, her eyes gleaming greedily as she admired my reflection. "Everyone at the gala tonight will know I am your future Luna."
My jaw tightened. I felt nothing at her joy. It disgusted me.
Alpha, the car is ready, an elder's voice echoed in my mind through the mind-link.
"We are leaving," I interrupted Cassondra, my voice like a cold blade. Without waiting for her response, I strode out of the room, leaving her to chase my shadow.
The ride to the Moon's Embrace Charity Gala in the armored SUV was suffocatingly tense. I kept my eyes closed, focusing on the rhythmic hum of the tires to block out Draegan's restless pacing in my mind.
"I cannot believe this year's guest list," my sister Vanessa sneered from the seat across from me. She swirled a glass of sparkling water, her lips twisting into a malicious smirk. "Imagine if that filthy Omega were still here. She would not even be worthy of shining shoes tonight. I bet she is cowering in some rogue infested slum right now, clutching that little bastard."
The words "Omega" and "bastard" drove into my chest like silver daggers.
My eyes snapped open. The temperature inside the SUV plummeted as my Alpha aura expanded violently, crushing the oxygen in the enclosed space. Vanessa gasped, her glass trembling as she shrank back against the leather seat, her eyes widening with sudden terror.
I did not defend Seraphina. My pride and the lies I had swallowed would not allow it. But the deadly promise in my gaze forced Vanessa to shut her mouth. I turned my head to stare out the tinted window, my stomach churning with a nauseating mixture of guilt, primal possessiveness, and a twisted anticipation of seeing Seraphina crumble, just to prove I had not destroyed my soul for nothing.
When we arrived at the gala, the paparazzi's flash bulbs blinded us. Cassondra immediately hooked her arm through mine, strategically angling her wrist to flaunt the heavy moonstone bracelet, the traditional symbol of my Pack's future Luna. She whispered trivial gossip in my ear, but I tuned her out completely.
She was a silent accessory. My senses stretched wide, cutting through the expensive champagne and the thick scents of high society wolves. But I had not come here tonight seeking an ally. My son Liam had less than a month left. The Silverwood Pack possessed an ancient healing secret, my last hope. Dominic Rhodes was the man I needed to convince. I wanted nothing else.
My thoughts drifted briefly to the surname. Rhodes. A common name, not uncommon in this circle. I had no reason to connect it to the Omega I had rejected five years ago. She was just an orphan with no family background, a pawn my mother had forced into the ceremony. I had never bothered to learn her full name. Seraphina was just Seraphina, an insignificant Omega, nothing more.
I shook off the thought and stepped into the magnificent Golden Ball. Crystal chandeliers cast warm starlight over the sea of elites. I endured another twenty minutes of Cassondra's clinginess until the Master of Ceremonies approached the grand microphone.
"Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the Alpha of the Silverwood Pack, Sir Dominic Rhodes!"
I turned immediately toward the grand staircase, squaring my posture.
Then my entire world stopped spinning.
The air vanished from my lungs. A scent pierced through the crowded ballroom, devastatingly familiar and intoxicating, the mixed fragrance of honeysuckle after rain and pure moonlight. It slammed into my chest, a violent electric shock that traveled straight to my marrow. My heart pounded against my ribs, and the open, bleeding void in my soul suddenly screamed for the only thing that could fill it.
*Mine! *Draegan roared, the sound deafening, nearly driving me to my knees.
Walking down the stairs was Seraphina, her hand elegantly resting on a man's arm.
She was not rotting in a slum. She had not crumbled. She was draped in a gown woven like silver thread, her dark curls cascading over her shoulders, her skin radiating an ethereal, untouchable power. She looked like a goddess.
My gaze shifted to the broad shouldered man beside her. His face was the exact match to the photograph Vanessa had thrown onto her lap five years ago. The deep scent of cedar and earth finally registered in my consciousness, the scent of Dominic Rhodes. The man I had believed she chose to betray me. The man I had traveled thousands of miles to beg from to save my son.
Rhodes.
Seraphina Rhodes.
The name finally detonated in my mind like a slap to the face.
I should have known. Five years ago, I had personally presided over the ceremony rejecting her. I had looked at that photograph with my own eyes. I had smelled that man's scent. Yet in the five years since, I had never connected the Alpha of the Silverwood Pack to the man in the photograph. I had never investigated his background. I had never cross checked his appearance. I had arrived desperate, blundering into tonight's gala like a blind man.
The Moon Goddess must be laughing at me, Draegan growled in my mind, his voice dripping with sarcasm. You rejected her with your own hands, and now you crawl to beg for her mate's help. And you were not even smart enough to see it coming.
And now she stood beside him, radiating a noble elegance that shattered every lie I had ever believed
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7.5
For five years, I was locked away in the freezing royal dungeon, starved and used as a bloody plaything by the kingdom's sadistic Cabinet Minister, Brandt Fischer.
He tortured me daily for one twisted reason: I simply looked like someone else.
When he visited my cell to casually announce my father's execution and drag a silver dagger across my neck, he expected me to beg.
Instead, I laughed, sank my teeth directly into his carotid artery, and was violently thrown against a jagged stone wall to my death.
As my skull cracked and my blood stained the moss, I thought about my so-called family. The moment Brandt had demanded me, my father, the Duke, handed me over without a single hesitation to save his own political career.
I was nothing but a disposable pawn, left to rot in the dark while the monsters who ruined my life thrived.
I died suffocating on my own blood and absolute, destructive vengeance.
Then, I opened my eyes.
I was lying in my silk-sheeted bed, reborn as my fifteen-year-old self.
Today was the exact day Lord Daryl Langley, the God of War, would be ambushed and crippled—the event that allowed Brandt to seize ultimate power.
I immediately stole a horse, rode to the palace gates, and threw myself directly in front of Daryl's moving carriage.
"I just didn't want to see a hero die like a slaughtered pig."
I didn't care if I had to shatter my own ankle to hijack his convoy. This time, I was going to save the general, and he would become the blade I use to slaughter them all.

9.0
I traded my innocence to my fated mate, the Alpha King, just to get a stalk of Moonlight Grass to save my dying brother.
But after a night of agonizing physical connection, he didn't mark me. Instead, he tossed me a single, useless dried leaf and a credit card, treating our sacred bond like a cheap transaction.
When I refused his insulting offer to be his secret, nameless mistress, he choked me against a wall and banished me from his lands forever. I fled to the human city, only to watch from the shadows a week later as he publicly escorted a pure-blood noble female, preparing to make her his Luna. Meanwhile, I was forced to sell herbs in the lawless black market just to survive, where I was cornered by a gang of violent rogues.
I didn't understand. We were chosen by the Moon Goddess. When our skin touched, the mating sparks nearly blinded us both. Why did he look at me with such cold disgust? Why did he throw me away like trash, only to parade another woman as his queen?
Running for my life from the rogues, I tripped and fell onto the asphalt, right at the feet of a convoy of black SUVs.
The man stepping out was the Alpha King who had sworn to kill me if he ever saw me again.
But as the rogues demanded I be handed over, his eyes darkened with a terrifying, primal fury.
"She's mine."

8.1
Pretty Devil
8.1
Maddy worked at an exclusive underground club, always hidden behind a sleek black mask. One night, a wealthy client approached her with a filthy fantasy , he didn't want to just fuck her. He wanted to be her complete slave.
He took her to his luxury penthouse, while she shoved her soaked pussy onto his face and rode his tongue until she came, then mounted his cock and used him mercilessly, slapping and choking him while denying his orgasm until he begged like a broken whore. Even after she quit the club and started a new corporate job, she kept hooking up with him. One day, she walked into the CEO's office... and froze. Her new boss was the same man.
By day, in his luxurious office, he is the dominant, commanding CEO , barking orders, running the company with iron authority, and no one suspects a thing. By night, he becomes her secret pathetic slave: crawling, getting pegged over his own desk, licking her cum off his floor, and having his cock locked in chastity while she laughs at how easily she owns him.
Pretty Devil is a raw, extremely explicit erotic novel packed with intense femdom, heavy BDSM, humiliation, orgasm denial, pegging, face-sitting, and twisted power exchanges that blur the dangerous line between boss and secret slave.
This book is unapologetically nasty and graphic. Reader discretion is strongly advised.

7.6
A jagged spike of agony woke Kiana up in a filthy stone room.
She had transmigrated into the body of a notorious, exiled matriarch in a brutal wasteland.
Before she could even process her new reality, she saw a massive, bloodied man huddled in the corner, trembling in absolute terror.
Foreign memories detonated in her brain: the original Kiana swinging a spiked whip, laughing as she tore his flesh open.
He was her husband, and she was a monster who tortured her own consorts.
The situation was a complete death trap.
Another husband stormed in, throwing down a marriage contract and demanding to sever their ties, which would leave her to be eaten by mutated beasts.
Outside, her third husband lay dying from a toxic wound while the rest of the tribe mocked her, eagerly waiting for her downfall.
Scanning her own body, Kiana discovered her face was covered in ugly purple bruises.
The original host hadn't just been naturally insane; she had been secretly fed a chronic poison by political enemies, destroying her beauty and driving her mad until she was exiled.
As a survivor from a modern apocalypse, the sight of broken, enslaved men made her skin crawl.
She refused to die in this savage wasteland as a pawn in someone else's twisted game.
Kiana tossed the contract back to the furious man.
"Give me three months. I will save him, and I swear I won't touch you."
With her apocalyptic healing powers and a newly awakened Spatial System, she was going to rewrite the rules of this primitive world.

9.6
I was the devoted Luna of the Blackwood Pack, bound to my fated mate, Alpha Ryker.
But he coldly rejected our sacred bond for a pure-blooded she-wolf, tossing me aside like garbage.
That was when a cold voice in my head revealed the horrifying truth.
"Your fate is to be rejected, a tragic footnote in their epic love story."
My entire life was a scripted prophecy controlled by a twisted entity.
According to the script, I was supposed to be locked away, my inner wolf withering from the broken bond until I died in agony.
The entity even confessed to orchestrating the murder of Alpha Gideon, the only father figure I ever had, just to keep our bloodline enslaved to this sick narrative.
I refused to be a ghost in someone else's happily ever after.
Why should my family die and my soul be erased just to serve a predetermined fate?
Instead of crying like the prophecy demanded, I tore my own soul apart to shatter the ancient Scroll of Fate, destroying the entity itself.
Opening my eyes again, I was back to being a ten-year-old child.
It was the exact day my lifelong trauma began.
"Do as I say, Elara. Do not make any more trouble for me."
My mother was trying to force me to take the blame for a bully, just to save her own reputation.
This time, I am writing the script.

8.0
My sister Rosalie always played the role of my gentle protector. On the night of my engagement, she insisted I take a secluded canyon road for my own safety.
In my past life, I didn't know it was a deadly trap. I fell for the staged ambush and the rival mobster, Julian, who took a fake bullet to "save" me.
Because of my blind trust, my entire Falcone bloodline was annihilated overnight. My father was beheaded, my brothers were gunned down, and my sweet little sister was left to die in a filthy alley. I was even brainwashed into betraying my new husband, Damien Moretti. I shot the only man who truly protected me right through the heart, just before Rosalie drowned me in a freezing lake, laughing as she confessed she was just a bastard child stealing my life.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very night my nightmare began. I was trapped in a penthouse, a lethal drug melting my sanity, pinned beneath Damien. But after he brutally sweat the poison out of my veins, he didn't look at me with love. He handed me a Plan B pill with a gaze full of ancient, chilling hatred.
"Swallow it," he commanded, his voice a sheet of ice.
He remembers. The Dark Don remembers the past life where I murdered him. But this time, I won't be a pawn. I wiped the blood of my traitorous maid from my hands, ready to drag my fake sister straight to hell.