Follow
Chapters
Share
Reborn Luna: Rejecting My Cruel Alpha

Reborn Luna: Rejecting My Cruel Alpha

I was the fated mate of Ryker Blackwood, the future Alpha, but my lack of an awakened wolf made me a pathetic joke to his pack. Instead of protecting me, he publicly rejected me, chose the manipulative Lilith Vane as his Luna, and locked me in a freezing dungeon. While the entire pack cheered for their final mating ceremony above, I rotted in heavy chains below. When a rogue attack killed our unborn pups, I reached out to him in agony, but his voice through our fading bond was like splintered ice. "Our pups are dead. Don't bother me again." He didn't care at all. The casual dismissal shattered my inner wolf, and I died in that filthy cell, suffocating on my own despair and a hatred so potent it burned through my last breath. Until my last moment, I couldn't understand why my absolute devotion was met with such cruel betrayal, and why my fated mate let our children die without a second thought. Opening my eyes again, I wasn't in the dungeon. I was back in my seventeenth year, choking on the icy water of the lake Lilith had just pushed me into. Seeing Ryker's arrogant sneer and Lilith's fake concern on the shore, I didn't cry or beg for his attention like I did in my past life. This time, I would publicly sever our sacred bond, awaken my true Alpha bloodline, and make them pay for every drop of my blood.
Chapters
Share

Chapter 5

Seraphina Thorne POV: Lilith’s desperate accusation hung in the air, a pathetic attempt to twist the truth. But Damien’s gaze never wavered from her. He was a seasoned warrior, his senses honed by years of patrols and skirmishes. He could smell the lie on her as clearly as he could smell the pine in the air. He finally turned his amber eyes to me. I stood straight, my breathing steady despite the adrenaline coursing through me. I didn't look like a victim. I looked like a survivor. "Alpha Gideon will need to hear about this," Damien said, his voice flat and final. He had made his choice. Panic clawed at Lilith’s composure. "You can't!" she shrieked, her voice cracking. "Ryker will never believe you! He'll have you exiled!" Damien ignored her, gesturing for me to follow him. We would leave her here with her shame and her failed accomplices. But I shook my head. "No," I said, my voice ringing with newfound authority. "We're going back now. In front of everyone." A private report could be buried, explained away by Ryker's blind devotion. A public spectacle could not. Damien hesitated for only a second before giving a sharp nod of understanding. He grabbed Lilith by the arm, his grip unyielding, and began marching her back toward the Blackwood Packhouse. We arrived at the great hall just as the assembly was breaking up. The two Alphas and their senior council were conversing in low tones, the tension from the earlier meeting still palpable. They all froze, their eyes widening at the sight of us: me, disheveled but resolute; Damien, his face a thundercloud of grim duty; and Lilith, weeping and struggling in his grasp. Ryker saw her first. A roar of fury ripped from his chest as he surged forward. "Damien! What the hell did you do to her?" he bellowed, trying to wrench Lilith from his cousin's grip. Damien didn't release her. He met Ryker's furious gaze without flinching. "I found your chosen mate consorting with two Rogues," he stated, his voice carrying to every corner of the silent hall. "They were attempting to murder Seraphina Thorne at Widow's Leap." The hall erupted in a cacophony of shocked gasps. Lilith tore herself free and launched herself into Ryker's arms, her sobs wracking her body. "It's not true!" she wailed. "It was Seraphina! She's obsessed, she's jealous! She hired them to frame me!" Without a moment's hesitation, Ryker chose to believe her. He held her tight, his eyes, burning with a cold fire, fixed on me. "You're a venomous, evil bitch," he spat. "Ryker!" My father's Alpha command crashed through the hall, a wave of power that made the very stones seem to vibrate. "You will be silent until the truth is known." I watched the scene unfold with a chilling sense of detachment. This was exactly as I had predicted. Ryker's loyalty was a blind, stupid thing. I didn't waste my breath defending myself against Lilith's lies. Instead, I let my gaze sweep over her, a slow, appraising look. "Lilith," I said, my voice calm and conversational, "you're making a scene. Such a display is hardly befitting a lady of noble birth." Everyone stared, confused by my apparent change of subject. Lilith's sobs hitched in her throat. I took a step forward, my movements fluid and graceful. I smoothed a wrinkle from the skirt of my silver-blue gown, a small, deliberate gesture of poise. "My mother taught me that a true Alpha-born lady maintains her dignity, even in the face of death. One never resorts to shrill hysterics." I looked directly at her. "Who, I wonder, was responsible for your education?" My words were not an accusation of a crime, but of something far more damning in their society: a lack of breeding. It was a subtle attack, a soft blade that slipped between her ribs and punctured the carefully crafted illusion of her noble persona. I saw the shift in the eyes of the elder wolves, the high-born Lunas. They looked at Lilith's crumpled, sobbing form, and then at me, standing tall and composed after a clear attempt on my life. They saw the difference. They saw the truth of our bloodlines. Lilith was speechless. She had no answer. Her etiquette was a mimicry, a costume she wore. She had never been taught the true meaning of nobility. I then turned to the assembled elders of both packs. I switched to the Old Tongue, the ancient, formal language of our ancestors that only the true Alpha bloodlines were taught. *"A she-wolf who cannot account for her own blood and breeding,"* I said, my voice resonating with an authority that had nothing to do with volume, *"is not fit to be the Luna of the Blackwood Pack."* The elders who understood paled. It was the gravest of insults, a direct challenge to Lilith's very identity. Ryker, who only knew a few phrases of the old language, was lost. He could only watch, his frustration mounting, as the ground shifted beneath his feet. I had changed the narrative. The question was no longer "who hired the Rogues?" It was "who is Lilith Vane?" In the cold, calculating eyes of the pack elders, her credibility had just evaporated. My father looked at me, a fierce, burning pride in his eyes. He stepped forward and addressed Alpha Blackwood, his voice booming with authority. "My friend, it seems we have much to reconsider. About our alliance, and about the matter of your son's choice of mate."

You may also like

Dump the Alpha, Mated to the King
8.9
The Moon Goddess gave them a bond-Adrian gave his heart to someone else. For three years, Luna Mira has lived in the shadow of her trauma, clinging to the comfort of an Alpha who felt like safety. until a grieving widow arrives and exposes the truth. While Mira struggles to heal, Adrian risks everything for another woman, showering her with the affection and gifts meant for his wife. After a brutal betrayal on the streets of France, Mira learns that being a mate is destiny-but being a Luna is power. If Adrian won't choose her, she'll choose herself. and the most dangerous Lycan King in the world may already be waiting to claim what Adrian foolishly threw away.
His Luna's Rage Will Break His Empire
8.4
My mate, Alpha Santino, brought another woman into our home. She was a pregnant Omega, the widow of his fallen Beta, and he swore to protect her above all others. He gave her my seat of honor, left our bed cold each night to soothe her feigned nightmares, and ignored me completely. I was the Luna of the Blackstone Pack, but I was becoming a ghost in my own life. The final betrayal happened in my own bedroom. She stood over my vanity and deliberately shattered my mother's sacred moonstone necklace, the last piece of my family I had left. When Santino burst in, he didn't see my heartbreak. He saw only her fake tears. "What did you do to her?!" he roared, his voice laced with the Alpha's Command, a sacred power he used to crush my will. Then, for her, he did the unforgivable. He raised his hand and struck me, his mate. In that instant, the love I had desperately clung to turned to ice. The man I had sworn my life to had not only betrayed me but had defiled the sacred bond the Goddess herself had blessed. As the pain of his betrayal ripped through me, something ancient and powerful awakened in my blood. I rose to my feet and spoke the words that would destroy his world and begin mine. "I, Alessia Bianchi, reject you, Santino Moretti, as my mate."
Chosen by the Living Reaper: But I Was the Succubus He Couldn't Resist
9.5
As a highborn succubus, I somehow managed to starve myself to death-thanks to my obsessive cleanliness and ridiculously picky appetite. When I opened my eyes again, I had transmigrated into Vivian Hartwell-the long-lost "real" daughter with a tragically cursed fate. I had barely been taken back into the Hartwell family before they forced me to attend a so-called "death matchmaking" event in Kingsford-on behalf of Natalie Hartwell, the fake heiress-to meet Damian Blackwood, the infamous "living reaper." Rumor had it Damian was brutal and bloodthirsty-every woman who'd ever been involved with him either ended up dead or driven insane. At the event, over a hundred socialites were trembling on their knees, silently praying they wouldn't be the one chosen. Just as Damian let out a cold smirk and reached to pick his unlucky victim, I took a deep breath from the back of the crowd. The scent emanating from him was a rare, potent masculine essence-something encountered perhaps once in ten millennia. For a painfully picky succubus like me, this was nothing short of salvation. I kicked aside the girl blocking my way, my eyes practically glowing as I threw both hands up. "Pick me! Hurry, pick me!"
Pampered By The Sadistic Academy Villain
7.6
I woke up to the suffocating smell of copper and sulfur, my fingers wrapped around a blood-soaked leather whip. Hanging from an obsidian cross in front of me was a boy with silver hair and dead, golden eyes. His pale chest was torn open to the bone. I recognized those eyes immediately. I had spent three years describing them on my laptop. He was Kamari Monroe, the tragic, overpowered protagonist of my own web novel. And I wasn't just a bystander. I was Benedict Guerrero, the sadistic academy headmaster. The ultimate villain. A reel of images flashed in my mind: my original ending. Kamari, fully awakened, skinning me alive and burning my soul in a furnace for forty-nine days. My loyal attack dog, Gideon, stepped forward with a basin of glowing green liquid. "Headmaster, let me wake him up with this bone-rot acid so you can resume." If that acid hit Kamari, his hatred would become permanent. My gruesome death would be sealed. But if I broke character and apologized, the magical world would sense the shift, and Kamari would just think it was a sicker, more twisted trap. How was I supposed to survive a death sentence I wrote myself? I couldn't show weakness. I had to play the monster to survive. Suppressing my terror, I smashed the acid basin, healed his ruined flesh with agonizing dark magic, and lied straight to his face. "Someone had to be the monster to push you into the fire." This time, I will rewrite my own fate.
Reborn As The Alphas' Hated Mate
7.2
I woke up in a lavish bedroom, only to find a man built like a god of war chained to my wall, glaring at me with pure, unadulterated hatred. A glowing apparition appeared and told me I had died in a car crash and transmigrated into the body of Elara, a tyrant Luna. Worse, the chained man was Ryker, one of my six fated mates whom the original Elara had brutally tortured. Because of her sadistic crimes-starving them, exiling them, and sending two of them on a suicide mission-my affinity with them was at negative five hundred. The apparition delivered my terrifying death sentence. "In three days, at the Marking Ceremony, you will be killed by your six mates." No matter what I did-freeing Ryker, sharing my food, or lifting their brother's exile-they viewed every act of kindness as a sick, twisted trap. They were just waiting for the punchline to my cruel joke, ready to expose me and end my life. I was just a librarian who organized book clubs and paid my taxes. Why did the Goddess throw me into this doomed vessel to pay for a psychopath's blood debts? How was I supposed to survive when the men destined to love me were actively plotting to rip my throat out? Cornered by their righteous fury, I realized playing defense wouldn't work. I grabbed a dagger, sliced my own palm over the ceremonial stone, and swore a blood oath to bring their missing brothers home-or initiate a soul-shattering Rejection Ceremony myself.
Reborn From Ashes: The Vengeful Socialite's Return
7.9
Estrella Ward gave five years of her life to her husband, draining her trust fund to save him from bankruptcy and raising his son as her own. But one night, she woke up in a freezing hotel room, drugged, with a stranger's bite marks on her skin. Her husband burst through the door with cameras, his vicious family, and her ten-year-old stepson, publicly framing her as a cheating whore. The horrifying truth soon surfaced: her husband had drugged her himself, selling her body to his Wall Street boss to secure a senior partnership. Estrella fought back with hidden security footage, blackmailing him into submission after discovering she was pregnant with his boss's child. But fate dealt a cruel blow. She was diagnosed with aggressive, terminal breast cancer. She refused to abort the baby to keep her leverage, but the cancer spread too fast. She died alone in a cold hospital room, her vengeance unfinished, while her husband and his cruel family celebrated. They thought they had successfully buried her and her secrets forever, escaping unpunished for destroying her life. But when she gasped for air and opened her eyes again, she wasn't in a cold grave. She was in a sterile hospital bed, looking at the perfectly manicured hands of Brooklyn Thompson—the notorious, empty-headed socialite everyone despised. Estrella's soul had survived the abyss. "You're going to pay for every drop of blood." She clenched her new fists, the fire of her vengeance burning brighter than ever.