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 6
Caleb's patience thinned. He pushed the herbs forward again, the leaves almost brushing the fabric of Kala's dress.
A low, vibrating growl echoed from the yard below. Armond's foot pressed against the stone path, and a hairline crack snaked out from his boot.
Kala smiled. It was a polite, empty thing.
She reached out. But she didn't take the stems. Her fingers pinched the very edge of the broad leaf wrapping the bouquet. She plucked it from his hand without a single millimeter of skin contact.
Caleb's hand hung in the air, empty. A flash of disappointment crossed his face.
"Thank you, Caleb," Kala said, her voice crisp and professional. "I will deliver this to Augusta Frye immediately. I will make sure to tell her of your contribution to the clinic."
The words were a slap in the face dressed as a compliment. She had taken his romantic gesture and filed it under 'public donation.'
Caleb's jaw tightened. The careful mask slipped for a second, revealing the anger beneath.
From the yard, Evan let out a loud, mocking snort.
Caleb took a sharp breath, forcing himself to calm down. "Will you be collecting dew at the forest edge tomorrow?" he asked, trying again. "I could escort you."
"No," Kala said instantly. "I will be processing these herbs all day. I will be at the clinic."
Caleb's pride stung. He was the elite warrior of the pack, and this female was treating him like a delivery boy. He wanted to push, to demand, but her smile was so perfectly polite that he had no angle of attack.
Armond finally moved. He walked up the steps, his massive body filling the space between Kala and Caleb. He looked down at the younger male, his eyes cold and dismissive.
"Padilla family dinner," Armond said, his voice a deep rumble. "No outsiders allowed. Get out."
Caleb's fists clenched at his sides. He knew he had lost this round. He gave Kala a stiff, formal warrior's bow, turned on his heel, and walked down the steps.
As he passed Evan, Caleb threw a look of pure, unmasked contempt at the boy.
Evan bristled, his hand flying to his knife, but a sharp look from Armond froze him in place.
Caleb disappeared into the darkness. The oppressive atmosphere on the porch finally lifted.
Armond turned around and immediately snatched the Pearl-grass from Kala's hands. He held it away from his body like it was a dead rat.
"Take this filth," Armond grumbled, shoving the bundle into Evan's chest. "Throw it at that old woman Augusta first thing tomorrow."
Kala laughed out loud, the sound ringing clear in the night. She pushed open the heavy wooden door of the cabin.
Warm, orange light spilled out, along with the mouth-watering smell of roasting meat.
Kala stepped into the entryway. She was just bending down to unlace her boots when Evan's voice rang out from behind her.
"Kala!" Evan whined, his tone dripping with sour jealousy. "You were so nice to him. You didn't have to be that polite. Don't tell me you actually like that fake guy?"
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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?"