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 7
Armond, who had been hanging up his fur coat, froze. His hand stopped halfway to the hook. The air in the entryway dropped a few degrees.
Kala closed her eyes. She inhaled slowly, counting to three in her head. She turned around to face her brother.
She reached out and grabbed Evan's ear. She pinched hard.
"Ow! Ow! Ow!" Evan yelped, trying to pull away, but Kala's grip was iron.
"Is your brain made of rocks?" Kala scolded, her voice sharp. "Do you understand nothing about social etiquette? Do you want the whole pack to think the Padillas are savages?"
"I don't like him," Evan sulked, rubbing his red ear once she let go. "Other females have a bunch of strong mates. You're the best female in the pack. You should have the best warriors!"
Kala's expression turned serious. She dropped her hand and took a step back, her eyes locking onto Evan's.
"I could never handle living in a house that constantly feels like a battlefield," Kala declared, her voice firm and unyielding. "I just want peace, not a daily war over who gets to guard my door."
Evan stared at her, confused.
"If I ever choose a mate," Kala continued, her voice dropping to a casual but serious tone, "one is more than enough of a headache for me. Just one person. I don't have the energy for a whole pack of them."
Evan's jaw dropped. He looked at her like she had grown a second head. In the beast world, monogamy was a death sentence. It was an anomaly. It was heresy.
"One?" Evan stuttered. "That's insane! One mate can't protect you during the harsh winter! You need a pack!"
Kala scoffed. "Are you saying the men of the Padilla family are useless?" she challenged. "Can't you protect me?"
It was the ultimate trap.
Armond snapped to attention, his chest puffing out. "Who dares touch you?" he bellowed, looking around for an enemy to crush. "I'll tear them apart!"
Kala pressed her advantage. "My future mate," she said loudly, "has to defeat Armond first. Or get a unanimous vote from this family."
It was a dead end. She knew Armond would never let anyone pass. It was her perfect shield.
Evan looked deflated. He couldn't argue with that logic.
A soft, rhythmic sound came from the stairs. Footsteps. Light, elegant, and unhurried.
A man descended from the second floor. He wore a dark silk shirt, buttoned to the top. His posture was straight, his movements precise. He exuded an aura of cold intellect.
Joaquin Townsend. Rhiannon's other mate. Kala's second father.
Joaquin pushed his gold-rimmed glasses up his nose. A faint, chilling smile played on his lips. "A perfect idea," he said, his voice smooth like velvet over steel.
Evan squeaked. He instantly shrank behind Armond, trying to make himself as small as possible. He had been complaining about Joaquin's creepy vibe just that morning.
Joaquin walked past Evan without a glance. He stopped in front of Kala. He reached out, his long fingers gently tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. The gesture was intimate and doting.
"Next time you spread rumors," Joaquin said, his voice light but his eyes cold as they flicked to Evan, "I will pull out your tongue."
Evan slapped both hands over his mouth, his eyes wide with terror.
Kala beamed. She threw her arms around Joaquin's, hugging his elbow. "Uncle Joaquin!" she chirped. "You're home!"
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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?"