Rejecting The Pack: I Need One Mate
In our beast world, females are treated as nothing more than precious breeding stock to keep the pack strong. As the pack's best Mender, I spent all my time focusing on my healing herbs, completely ignoring my maturity ritual.
But tonight, the blind pack elder grabbed my wrist and delivered a chilling ultimatum.
If I don't choose my mates by the next Full Moon, the Council of Elders will force a match and assign them to me.
The threat is already suffocating. Arrogant, elite warriors like Caleb Quinn are pacing outside my door like starving wolves, stalking my porch and using pack business to corner me. At home, the reality of multiple mates is even worse. My mother has two mates—my father, the strongest Alpha, and my cold, intellectual step-father. Their toxic, murderous jealousy turns our house into a daily war zone. They literally unleash suffocating killing intent on innocent cubs just for hugging my mother.
I am disgusted by this sick, possessive obsession. I refuse to let my life become a battlefield of jealous males fighting over who gets to guard my door, and I absolutely refuse to be forced into a harem by the Elders.
So, I made a declaration that shocked my entire family and broke every pack tradition.
"I will only ever take one mate."
And to make sure none of those predatory warriors can touch me, I set an impossible trap.
"Whoever wants me must defeat my father first."
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Chapter 3
Kala turned toward the main gate. The wind blowing from that direction carried the thick, coppery scent of blood and the damp smell of disturbed earth.
The heavy wooden gates groaned open, the wood grinding against the stone floor. A line of massive figures strode through the gap. They carried enormous carcasses over their shoulders, the fur of the prey dark and matted with blood.
Kala scanned the line. She found him instantly.
Armond Padilla walked at the front. He was a head taller than the warriors around him. His arms were bare, the muscles slick with the blue-purple blood of the magic beasts he had slain. Despite the gore, his stride was steady, radiating a suffocating, top-tier Alpha aura that made the guards at the gate lower their heads in submission.
Beside him walked Evan, Kala's younger brother. Evan was dragging a massive boar monster by its tusks, his face flushed with excitement and youth.
The knot in Kala's chest unraveled. A genuine smile touched her lips, softening her features. She picked up her skirts and hurried toward them.
Before she could take more than a few steps, a tall figure stepped out from the side of the hunting party. He moved with fluid grace, cutting directly into her path, blocking her view of her father.
Caleb Quinn.
He was one of the pack's youngest and most elite warriors. His chest was bare, his honey-colored skin gleaming with sweat. Shallow scratches from claws marked his torso, drawing attention to the hard lines of his muscles.
Caleb's dark eyes locked onto Kala. There was no subtlety in his gaze. It was a look of pure, predatory hunger.
"Kala," Caleb said, his voice a low, vibrating rumble. He took a step closer, shrinking the distance between them. "I've been looking forward to seeing you."
Kala's mind flashed back to Morwenna's threat. Caleb Quinn was one of the males the elder had been pushing. He was considered a prime candidate.
Alarm bells rang in Kala's head. She took a half-step back, her body instinctively rejecting his proximity. She quickly rearranged her face into the polite, distant smile she used on difficult patients.
"Hard work today, Caleb," she said, her tone cool and professional. "That scratch on your arm looks deep. You should get it treated immediately."
Caleb's eyes lit up. He mistook her observation for concern. He leaned forward, eager to close the gap again. "It's nothing. You could check it for me-"
A low, dangerous snarl ripped through the air behind Caleb.
Armond had dropped his kill. He stood right behind Caleb, his massive frame casting a long shadow over the younger warrior. Armond's narrow, phoenix eyes were slits of pure ice, locked onto the back of Caleb's head. The killing intent rolling off him was so thick it felt hard to breathe.
Caleb went rigid. His body locked up, his muscles seizing under the crushing weight of the higher-ranking Alpha's aura. Sweat beaded on his forehead. His beast instinct screamed at him to submit, to bare his throat.
Evan threw down the boar and charged forward. He planted himself directly in front of Kala, his hackles raised like a defensive wolf pup. Kala watched his reaction, a brief thought crossing her mind: He really needs more training. He still can't even control his partial beast transformations when his emotions flare up.
"What do you think you're doing?" Evan yelled at Caleb, his voice cracking with teenage aggression. "Stay away from my sister!"
The temperature around them plummeted. The other warriors froze, their eyes darting nervously between the standoff. A fight between Alphas was bad; a fight involving Armond Padilla was a bloodbath.
Kala didn't hesitate. She stepped forward and slid her arm through Armond's thick, muscular one. She pressed herself against his side, leaning into his solid warmth.
"Father," Kala said, her voice soft and sweet, stripped of all the professional coolness she had used on Caleb. "I've been waiting for you. I'm so glad you're home safe."
The effect was instantaneous. The terrifying killing intent radiating from Armond evaporated like mist under the sun. His rigid muscles relaxed. He looked down at his daughter, his eyes softening from lethal ice to warm amber.
Armond pulled Kala into his side, wrapping a protective arm around her shoulders. He didn't even spare Caleb a glance. Without a word, he turned, guiding Kala and Evan away from the gate and toward their home.
Caleb stood alone in the dirt. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides, his knuckles white. He watched Kala's retreating back, his eyes darkening with a complex, obsessive shadow.
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9.3
Born into privilege, Eleanor never imagined her life could shatter in a single night. Then her father disappeared with his mistress, her mother fell from a building and slipped into a coma, and everything she once owned turned to dust.
Determined not to ruin Jonathan's future with her family's disgrace, she ended their relationship and became the bride of a man trapped in a vegetative state.
She believed that was the last time their paths would cross. But two years later, Jonathan pinned her in the dark and whispered, "Long time no see, my sister-in-law."
7.6
Dumped by her fiancé just days before their wedding, only to watch him marry someone else-what would you do? Cry yourself to sleep, or dress to kill for revenge?
That was Elaina's reality. She's no Cinderella, yet she lost a shoe while recklessly crashing her ex's wedding. Her revenge plan went up in flames, but fate had other ideas, throwing her into the path of Alister-a man who is handsome, charismatic, and dangerous... and ironically, the person closest to her ex-fiancé.
Amidst heartbreak and vendettas, Alister paints her world in new colors, turning Elaina into a modern-day Cinderella. But will this story end in "happily ever after," or is Alister merely leading her into a much more dangerous game?
7.4
Clara Davis was trained to seduce, deceive, and destroy.
Her mission is simple: infiltrate billionaire Jeffery Rothwell's life, gain his trust, and help seize his empire in exchange for the freedom she has always craved.
But the deeper she slips into his dangerous world, the more the lines between mission and desire begin to blur. Falling for him was never part of the plan and neither was discovering that the man she was sent to manipulate may not be the real Jeffery at all.
Now trapped in a deadly web of obsession, power, and hidden identities. Clara is caught between the organization that owns her, the monster who remade her, and a love that has turned into vengeance. Clara must survive a man who sees everything, controls everything, and may be far more dangerous than the organization that created her.
Because in this game of seduction and revenge, love might be the deadliest trap of all.
9.0
The biopsy report slid across the cold metal desk, stamped with a brutal death sentence: advanced gastric cancer. Aretha had exactly ninety days left to live.
It was her twenty-sixth birthday, but her phone only rang with a furious call from her husband, Anders.
"Do you have any idea how much of a joke you made this family look like today? Post a public apology to Kelli right now."
He had completely forgotten her birthday, only caring that she skipped her adopted sister's yacht party.
When Aretha dragged her failing body back to the family estate, her biological mother slapped her across the face just for looking pale and embarrassing them in front of guests.
Seeing Aretha wasn't submitting to the usual abuse, Kelli deliberately threw herself down the stairs, playing the innocent, depressed victim.
Anders rushed in and shoved Aretha brutally against the wall to protect Kelli, while her biological father delivered his ultimate threat.
"I am freezing your trust fund. Get on your knees and apologize to Kelli right now, or you won't see another dime."
A massive, suffocating sense of absurdity washed over Aretha. She had spent six years lowering her head and begging for their approval, only to be treated like a disposable placeholder. Why should she spend her final days enduring this agonizing torture for people who didn't even care if she breathed?
Aretha wiped the blood from her chin and laughed. She publicly severed all ties with her family, whipped the signed divorce papers directly at Anders's face, and walked out into the freezing storm—ready to fight for her own life.
8.6
The Maybach glided through rain, Dante's cold cedar cologne a familiar comfort. Seven years, my life revolved around him, my fingers on his suit cuff, a silent promise. But tonight, our normal shattered with a single phone call.
He answered, speaking rapid Italian – a language he thought I didn't understand. Every word: a death knell. Confirming his engagement to Sofia Moretti, dismissing me as a 'consolation prize.'
Seven years of loyalty vanished. His loving mask back, he left for his fiancée. I stumbled into freezing rain, recalling my foster past. My numb fingers dialed his mother, Isabella, demanding fifty million for my silence. Her insults didn't sting.
The true gut punch: Sofia's Instagram, a prenup on Dante's desk, proudly showing *my* watch, captioned: 'Fourteen days left.' This wasn't their celebration; it was my death sentence.
I wouldn't stay another day in this gilded cage. My old duffel bag, packed, waited. The Australia brochure, a childhood dream, in my pocket. This time, I would live for myself, and they would all pay.
9.1
The best way to get back at a cheating bastard? Make him sick to his stomach for the rest of his life!
Days before her wedding, Corinne caught her fiancé cheating with his coworker in what she thought was their future home.
Furious, she tore everything apart, ended the engagement, and decided on a bold revenge plan.
To make him regret it for life, she set her sights on marrying his powerful uncle. Confident in her scheme, she tried to win over the cold, untouchable man, only to realize too late that she had mistaken his identity.
The man she married was far more dangerous than she imagined!
Corinne decided to make a quick escape. "Let's get a divorce. We're clearly not right for each other... "
He cornered her with a knowing smile, "Not right for each other? Funny, that's not what you said last night in bed. Want me to remind you how wrong you are?"