Follow
Chapters
Share
After My Alpha Locked Me in Flames, I Rejected Him Novel Cover

After My Alpha Locked Me in Flames, I Rejected Him

The first whiff of smoke reached me through the ventilation system—a faint, acrid scent that made my nostrils flare. I paused in front of the mirror, my fingers still adjusting the collar of my blouse. Tonight was supposed to be Declan's "Chosen Mate" ceremony—a cruel mockery of what should have been our moment. "Probably just someone burning leaves nearby," I muttered, trying to ignore the knot in my stomach. But the smell grew stronger. Too strong. I followed the scent to the kitchen, where wisps of gray smoke curled from beneath the refrigerator. My heart hammered against my ribs as I yanked the appliance away from the wall, revealing frayed wires sparking against the wooden floor. "Shit," I whispered, backing away as flames licked upward, hungry and swift. Panic surged through me as I lunged for the nearest exit—the French doors leading to the garden.
Chapters
Share

Chapter 3

The hospital room's sterile white walls seemed to close in around me as I stared at the ceiling, counting the tiles to distract myself from the pain. My burns throbbed despite the minimal medication Marcus allowed. Three days had passed since Elena slipped me the burner phone with its precious cargo of security logs.

I heard footsteps approaching—too heavy for a nurse, too purposeful for a doctor. The door creaked open, and I tensed, expecting Alina's smug face or Marcus's cold stare.

Instead, a janitor stepped in, pushing a cleaning cart. Something about him seemed off—his movements too fluid, his posture too alert. When he looked up, I recognized him from somewhere.

"You're Theo," I whispered, my damaged vocal cords making it sound more like a question than a statement.

He quickly closed the door behind him and removed his cap, revealing auburn hair and intelligent eyes. "Guilty as charged."

"The Rogue streamer," I added, trying to sit up despite the pain.

"Former streamer," he corrected, pulling out a tablet from his cart. "At least for today."

He approached my bed cautiously, glancing at the door. "I hacked the visitor logs. You have exactly seven minutes before someone notices I'm not supposed to be here."

I nodded weakly. "What do you want?"

"I think the question is what do you need?" He placed the tablet on my lap. "Because I found something you should see."

The screen showed thermal footage of the night of the fire. The timestamp matched when I'd been trapped inside.

"I was streaming an urban exploration of your pack's perimeter," Theo explained. "I thought the old estate would make good content."

The footage showed the Alpha estate engulfed in flames, then panned to capture the Pack House in the distance. Theo zoomed in on a balcony where two figures stood watching the blaze.

"Declan and Alina," I breathed, recognizing them instantly.

"But that's not all," Theo said, tapping the screen to activate the audio.

Their voices came through clearly, laughing as they watched my prison burn.

"Is that smoke bothering you, Alpha?" Alina's voice purred.

"Nothing to worry about," Declan replied. "Probably just Celine burning dinner again."

They clinked glasses as sirens wailed in the distance.

"I ignored three fire alarm notifications on my phone," Declan said casually. "She'll learn to stop being so careless."

Theo paused the video. "The official story is that no one knew about the fire until the patrols saw the smoke. But this—" he gestured to the frozen image, "—shows they saw it from the beginning."

"They watched me burn," I whispered, tears stinging my eyes.

Theo nodded grimly. "I've been streaming for years. I know when someone's lying, and that official statement stinks worse than your burned house."

"Why show me this?" I asked.

"Because I hate liars," he said simply. "And because no one deserves what happened to you."

He pulled out a small drive. "I've copied everything. Thermal footage, audio, timestamps—it's all here."

I took it with bandaged fingers. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet," Theo said. "We need to combine this with whatever you have."

I reached for Elena's burner phone under my pillow and handed it to him. "Security logs. He locked me in."

Theo's eyes widened as he examined the files. "This is enough for attempted murder charges, not just negligence."

"We need to—" I began, but my voice failed me.

Theo handed me his tablet. "Type it."

I slowly typed out my plan: *We need to present this at the next Pack Gathering. The Lycan Council will be there. We need to expose them both.*

"Can you do it?" I asked.

Before he could answer, the door swung open. Alina stood there, her perfect smile faltering slightly at the sight of Theo.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said with false sweetness. "I didn't realize you had company."

Theo quickly resumed his janitor pose, grabbing his cleaning supplies. "Just doing my job, Luna."

Alina's eyes narrowed at the title. She waited until he left before approaching my bed.

"Poor Celine," she cooed, sitting on the edge of my mattress. "How are you feeling today?"

I said nothing, watching her warily.

"I came to check on you," she continued, her voice dripping with false concern. "After all, you're still technically pack, even if you're not really the Luna anymore."

She leaned closer, her perfume suffocating me. "It must be so hard, being rejected and burned and... oh yes, barren."

Her manicured nail traced the edge of my bandage, then suddenly dug into my burn graft.

I bit back a scream as pain shot through me.

"If you don't leave this pack immediately," she whispered, her face inches from mine, "I'll finish what the fire started."

I remained perfectly still as her words poured over me like acid. Under my pillow, Elena's burner phone recorded every syllable.

Alina smiled again, patting my hand condescendingly. "Rest well, Celine. I'll check on you tomorrow."

As she sashayed out, I clutched the phone tighter, a plan forming in my mind. The recording would be my first piece of ammunition in a war she didn't even know had begun.

You may also like

After My Alpha Marked Another, I Found My Fated Mate Novel Cover
9.6
The moonlight streamed through the office windows as I hunched over my desk, finalizing the details for tomorrow's ceremony. Ten years. Ten years of devotion, sacrifice, and love had led to this moment—our official Mating and Luna Ceremony. I traced my fingers over the elaborate invitations I'd designed myself, each one addressed by hand to every member of the Silverfang Pack. "Just a few more hours of work," I whispered to myself, "and then everything will be perfect." My wolf, Luna, stirred weakly inside me. *We deserve this, Hazel. After all we've done for him.* I smiled, though it felt strained. Luna had never been strong—another reminder of my status as a Late Bloomer. But Declan had promised that once we completed our marking ceremony, our wolves would sync and mine would grow stronger. The clock on the wall read 11:42 PM.
After My Husband Chose His Mistress, Our Son Died Novel Cover
8.7
I traced the ritual mark on my left ring finger, watching as the once-vibrant crimson had faded to a pale pink outline. Seven years ago, this mark had burned into my skin like molten fire as I bound my spiritual energy to Alexander Sterling. Now it was barely visible, like a scar determined to heal despite my reluctance to let it go. The late afternoon sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of my penthouse study, bathing the room in golden light that did nothing to warm the chill that had settled in my bones. I'd chosen this room specifically for its view of Central Park—a small piece of nature amid Manhattan's concrete jungle, a reminder of the elements I'd once channeled freely before sacrificing my practice. A movement below caught my eye. Two figures strolled along the winding path, their body language unmistakable even from this height. Alexander's tall frame bent slightly toward the woman beside him, his hand occasionally brushing against hers in a gesture that appeared accidental but was anything but. Isabella Rossi tossed her head back in laughter at something he said, her long dark hair catching the sunlight. I pressed my palm against the cool glass, feeling the vibration of the city below.
Framed By Family, Reborn By Love Novel Cover
9.3
My family framed me for corporate espionage, and my uncle told me I was dead to them. So I obliged. I faked my own death and built a new life as Elia Parker, a successful architect married to a tech mogul. But after five years, my past refused to stay buried. My cousin found me at my own grave and dragged me to a public event, parading me around like a ghost. My uncle, who left me to rot in a hospital, feigned shock. My aunt shrieked that I was a monster for faking my death. Then she lunged, her nails raking across my cheek and drawing blood. "You ungrateful bitch!" she screamed. As I stood there bleeding, my so-called family just watched, not one of them moving to help. It was the same cold indifference that had destroyed me five years ago. Just as I was about to break, a voice cut through the chaos, quiet but radiating power. "Is everything alright here, Elia?" It was my husband, Javier Bates. And the look on his face told me their world was about to burn.
Leave that ruthless Alpha Novel Cover
8.1
I thought I had everything. For five years, I stood beside Alpha Anson as his fiercest warrior, his most loyal partner, and the future Luna of Nightveil Pack. I bled for our territory, fought his enemies, and trusted him with my life. Then I discovered the truth. While I lay helpless on an operating table after defending our pack, Anson ordered a doctor to destroy my legs. His reason? To replace me with his mistress, Diana, and the daughter he had hidden from me for years. The man I loved didn’t just betray me—he broke me. But he made one fatal mistake. He underestimated me. After faking my own death and escaping the pack that became my prison, I begin a dangerous journey to reclaim everything that was stolen from me. As secrets unravel and enemies close in, I find unexpected allies, a chance to walk again, and a powerful Alpha who sees me as a warrior—not a burden. Now, Nightveil believes Wendy is dead. Let them. Because the woman who rises from the ashes is no longer the Luna who loved Anson. And when I return, I won’t be seeking forgiveness. I’ll be bringing justice.
Reborn Heiress: The Wall Street Titan's Bride Novel Cover
8.8
Alaia Dudley spent her life playing the devoted partner, completely unaware that her fiancé Austen was sleeping with another woman. She thought the worst he could do was break her heart, until she found herself pinned to a cold operating table. Austen held her down with a cruel smirk while a scalpel sliced through her sternum. They cracked her chest open while she was still fully conscious. The agonizing pain of her heart being cut out burned into her nerve endings. She realized then that to him, she was never a lover—just a spare organ, a boring piece of wood to be discarded the second his true love needed it. She died in excruciating agony, choking on her own blood while the man she loved walked away with her heart. Until her last breath, she didn't understand why she had to suffer so brutally. Why did she waste her life begging for a monster's attention? Why did they get a happy ending while she was carved up like an animal? But then, ice-cold water flooded her lungs, and Alaia violently broke the surface of her bathwater. Her trembling fingers touched her smooth, flawless chest. No scars. Her heart was still beating. The date on her phone glared back at her: it was exactly five years ago. Tonight was the exact night Austen first took his mistress to a hotel room. This time, she wouldn't just expose them. She would use Wall Street's most terrifying tyrant as her personal weapon to strip them of everything they had.
Rejected by the Alpha, Embraced by Fate Novel Cover
8.6
The scent of vanilla and cinnamon filled the cottage kitchen as I pulled the small birthday cake from the oven. Twenty-five candles—I'd counted them twice, my hands trembling slightly as I arranged them in neat rows. Today was supposed to be different. Today, Joaquin had promised, would finally be the day we completed our marking ceremony. Seven years. Seven years of waiting, of being patient, of understanding why an Alpha needed time to make such an important decision. The mate bond thrummed beneath my skin, that constant pull toward him that had defined my existence since I'd returned to pack life at eighteen. Late bloomer, they'd called me then. The girl who hadn't shifted until the scandal broke, revealing I was the true Alpha's daughter, switched at birth with June Price. I smoothed my hands over the deep blue dress I'd chosen carefully—Joaquin's favorite color.