My Secret Mate Is The Alpha
I was bound by blood to a mysterious cloaked male named Rafe to secure a vital alliance. I was supposed to be the new Luna of the Nightfall Pack.
But the moment I arrived, I was stripped of my expected title and forced to be a mere personal assistant to the brutally handsome Alpha Kaelen. My fated mate never even showed up.
Alpha Kaelen treated me with icy disdain. He even dragged me to a high-end jewelry store to pick out a mating gift for his "future Luna." When the shop owner assumed the gift was for me, Kaelen coldly humiliated me in public.
"She is just my assistant."
Yet, when a rival Alpha tried to lay a hand on me at a summit, Kaelen nearly started a war. He shielded me with his body, his eyes blazing with furious possessiveness.
"She is mine."
I didn't understand. If I was nothing but a discarded political pawn, why did Kaelen's touch send electric sparks straight to my core, exactly like my fated mate? Why was he fiercely protective of me one second, only to treat me like absolute garbage the next?
Staring at the moonstone necklace he forced me to carry for his "real mate," the fragile hope in my chest finally died. I wouldn't wait for a phantom husband anymore; I was going to uncover Kaelen's secret, and then, I would leave this pack for good.
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Chapter 4
Elara Thorne POV:
At seven sharp, I was waiting by the main entrance of the Packhouse. A black, military-grade SUV pulled up, and Alpha Kaelen leaned over from the driver's seat, pushing the passenger door open. "Get in."
The cab of the truck was clean and functional, but it felt incredibly small with him in it. His scent—pine and storm—was everywhere, a potent and distracting presence that made my heart beat a little faster. I focused on the rugged landscape outside, trying to ignore the heat radiating from him just inches away.
As we drove along the border, he spoke, his voice all business. He pointed out patrol routes, weak spots in the perimeter, and the political tensions with the feral packs in the northern hills. He was a master tactician, and I found myself listening intently.
"The supply depot for this sector is too exposed," I said, thinking aloud. "If you rerouted the deliveries through the old quarry pass, it would cut down on travel time and be less visible to scouts."
He glanced at me, his brow furrowed. "The quarry pass is unstable in the spring."
"Not if you reinforce the western wall," I countered, drawing on my experience managing Silvermoon's infrastructure. "A retaining wall and proper drainage would make it viable year-round."
He was silent for a long moment. He pulled the SUV over, turning in his seat to face me fully. For the first time, he wasn't looking at me like an assistant or a political piece on a board. He was looking at me like an equal.
"That's… a viable solution," he admitted, a note of genuine surprise in his deep voice.
A strange warmth spread through me at his approval. Before I could respond, the vehicle's comm system crackled to life.
"Kaelen." The voice was female, sharp and authoritative. It was Astrid Varg, his elder.
"Astrid," he replied, his tone immediately hardening.
"The council is growing impatient," she said, her voice laced with disapproval. "You have been back for days. When do you intend to formally welcome your mate to the pack? The alliance requires a public ceremony to solidify it."
My stomach clenched. They were talking about me. Or rather, about the 'Luna' who was bound to the mysterious Rafe. I was torn between a nervous anticipation of finally meeting my supposed mate and a deep-seated dread of the role I was expected to play.
Kaelen's jaw tightened. "I have a plan, Astrid. Do not interfere."
"Your plan is taking too long. This is not a matter of personal preference; it is a matter of state," she snapped back.
"I will handle it," he growled, and cut the connection.
The silence that followed was heavy and suffocating. A low, angry energy rolled off him in waves, and I instinctively shrank back in my seat, assuming his anger was directed at the elder's nagging.
We drove the rest of the way back to the Packhouse without another word. He stalked off toward his office the moment we arrived, leaving me standing by the SUV.
Later that day, I saw him call his Beta, Corbin, into his office. The door was slightly ajar, and I couldn't help but overhear.
"Corbin," Kaelen's voice was strained, unfamiliar. "If one were to… procure a formal gift for a female, what would one get?"
I heard Corbin's surprised, muffled laugh. "A gift? For a female? Well, Alpha, that depends. Jewelry is always a safe bet. A gown, perhaps?"
There was a long pause. I saw Kaelen's shadow through the frosted glass, his head bowed as if in thought.
"Get out," he finally grumbled.
Corbin left, a grin plastered on his face. I slipped away before he could see me, my heart pounding. Kaelen was buying a gift for his mate. For the woman he was bound to through Rafe.
He was going to summon her.
Inside his office, Kaelen sat behind his desk. He closed his eyes. I didn't know it then, but he was reaching for the bond, for the connection to the mate he had never met, the mate he already resented.
He was reaching for me.
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7.9
Allyson was the most hated actress in Hollywood, forced to wear a cheap, tearing gown after America's sweetheart, Joanne, stole her S-tier role.
During a red carpet disaster, Allyson tripped and fell—straight into the arms of the untouchable megastar, Byron Estes.
The internet exploded, accusing Allyson of faking the fall to seduce him. Drowning in bad press and desperate to pay her agency's termination fee, she signed a reality TV contract. She was forced to play the desperate, clingy villain, acting as a pathetic stepping stone for Joanne and Byron's highly anticipated on-screen romance.
"You could throw yourself at Byron a hundred times, and you'd still never make it into his bed," Joanne mocked.
What Joanne and the furious public didn't know was that three years ago, when Byron was in a horrific crash, Joanne had abandoned him. It was Allyson who stayed.
Even more absurd? Allyson and Byron were actually secretly married, bound by a multi-million dollar NDA.
Determined to play her villainous role and get paid, Allyson memorized a book of cringe-inducing pickup lines, ready to disgust her secret husband on live television.
"The stars are in the sky. But you... are in my heart."
She expected the ice-cold superstar to push her away in disgust. Instead, when another male guest got too close to her, Byron completely shattered his untouchable facade, his eyes burning with a lethal, undeniable possessiveness that sent the internet into absolute chaos.
9.6
Haylie waited nervously at the Wall Street charity gala for her boyfriend Bryan, but a spiked drink hit her hard, leaving her stumbling into a VIP lounge.
There, Chester Steele, the ruthless CEO of Steele Industrial, found her—drugged and vulnerable. What started as a frantic claiming in the shadows ended with him whispering she was his.
But moments later, a security alert shattered everything: data breach traced to Haylie's terminal. Chester's fury exploded. He saw her brush past a Logan Group rival on footage and dumped her in the rain, firing her as a corporate spy.
Bryan answered her desperate call with ice: "It's over." Reporters swarmed her door, branding her a traitor. Arrested at the office by FBI agents, she watched smug coworker Erin wave goodbye.
Thrown in a cell, chained and grilled with fake evidence—offshore accounts in her name—Haylie learned the worst: charges now included her sick father, Ernest, framed for laundering the leak money. Plead guilty or he dies in prison.
Innocent and raging, she couldn't fathom who planted it all—the gala bump, the logs, the forgeries. Why her? Who hated her enough to destroy her life?
Chester burst in, posting unlimited bail but forcing her signature on a slave contract: live in his penthouse, serve him 24/7. As she collapsed in his arms, trapped in his gilded cage, Haylie vowed silently—she'd uncover the real traitor and make them pay.
7.1
Behind every locked door lies a secret... For Elena, it's the hunger she hides from her cold and distant husband. For Adrian, it's the forbidden desire he feels for the one woman he should never touch-his stepmother.
What begins as stolen glances and teasing remarks quickly spirals into something dangerous. Behind closed doors, guilt turns into obsession, lust turns into fire, and the line between right and wrong disappears.
But how long can they keep their dirty secret before it explodes, tearing the family apart?
A forbidden romance dripping with passion, danger, and irresistible temptation.
9.8
The fluorescent hum of the DMV was the soundtrack to my boring life, until I tried to replace my lost driver's license.
"Your marital status. It says you're divorced," the clerk said, shattering my five-year marriage to Jackson Parks with a single, flat sentence.
My husband, Jackson, the man who swore he loved me, had secretly divorced me three years ago. Not only that, he had remarried the very next day to Candida Camacho, the woman who had tried to murder me on my wedding day and left me infertile. And they had a two-year-old son, Joey.
I stumbled home, my world a blur, only to find Jackson and Candida in our living room, arguing. "I hate having to pretend for that pathetic woman!" Candida shrieked. Jackson, my husband, pleaded, "I love you. I've always loved you."
The man I sacrificed everything for, who swore to destroy her, was now playing house with my attempted murderer, and I was the fool living in his house, sleeping in his bed, believing his lies.
The pain in my abdomen, a phantom ache from five years ago, flared to life, mirroring the gaping wound in my soul. I would not be his victim anymore.
"Hamilton," I said into the phone, my voice clear and steady. "I need your help. I need you to help me die."
8.4
Warning: Matured readers only.
This book contains violence, explicit content, taboo affair, forbidden relationship and BDSM.
It is intended for adults; 18 and above.
"This is...wrong, you are my twin sister's mates." I stammered breathlessly, teeth sinking into my bottom lip as my body convulsed with the arrival of my fifth orgasm.
*****
Betrayed by my mate and enduring a heartwrenching rejection, my world crumbled the day I was sold off to a vegetable Alpha to become a breeder.
But things took a swift dark turn as the vegetable turned out to be not one, not two, but three savage, sinful, dominant forces.
The rules were simple; No strings attached. Avoid eye contact. Speak only when spoken to. Produce the next heir.
Disobedience meant swift death.
Once all these were in place, hopefully, my freedom or death would be granted.
Sticking to the rules was easy, until the rhapsody of an unforgettable night in the red room.
A deadly mistake that blurred the line between loyalty and family.
They were forbidden fruits, my twin sister's mates.
But I couldn't get enough of their hungry tongues claiming my filthy mouth, their wandering hands ravaging my body, bending me in ungodly positions. Deliciously sinful.
Once a naive virgin, now, a perfect good girl for their ruin.
Like a magnet, their sinful voices pulled me to them dangerously, conquering my morals.
When their voices go, "Spread your thighs for us, little dove." I responded with total submission to my masters.
What was supposed to be a one-time mistake turned into a deadly secret obsession.
But secrets don't stay buried forever...especially the ones laced with a curse...and my masters were hiding more than just their dark pasts.
One deadly truth was capable of tearing us apart.
8.9
Aubree Hamilton was the top-tier executive assistant to Wall Street's most ruthless titan, Beck Franco. A month ago, she made a catastrophic mistake and spent the night in his bed.
Thinking she had erased the mistake with a morning-after pill, she panicked upon his return and lied about being engaged to push him away.
But Beck, a man who despised disloyalty above all else, immediately suspended her and ordered her escorted out of the building. Her nightmare only escalated when her toxic ex-boyfriend attacked her on the street, tearing her purse open and exposing the empty morning-after pill box to the public—and to Beck, who was watching from his penthouse. After having his security rescue her, Beck trapped her in his car, ruthlessly tearing apart her fake engagement. Later in her apartment, the suffocating tension between them almost ignited into a kiss, but a violent wave of nausea suddenly hit Aubree.
She shoved him away with all her strength and violently threw up in the bathroom.
Beck took it as the ultimate physical disgust. He walked out, deeply humiliated and dangerously obsessed, unleashing his resources to investigate her every move.
Left alone and trembling, Aubree finally checked the crushed white box. The pill she took had expired a month ago.
Staring at the two bright pink lines on the pregnancy test, she made a desperate vow: Beck Franco could never know she was carrying his child, and she had to disappear before he found out.