Betrayed By The Alpha: The Spirit Luna Returns
I hovered in the corner of the damp Runt Quarters, powerless as a ghost, watching my five-year-old daughter take her last breath.
She died of a fever that a simple medicine could have cured.
But my husband, Alpha Elroy, refused to pay for it. He was too busy dining with his mistress to waste resources on a "runt."
When he finally arrived, there were no tears.
He picked up my daughter’s small body like a bag of trash and tossed her into the incineration pit meant for criminals.
"Stop hiding, Annis!" he roared at the empty woods, thinking I was alive and watching. "Your trick didn't work. The runt is dead."
I screamed at him, clawing at his suit, but my hands passed right through him.
Days later, his mistress gave birth to a son. But the baby was born with a fractured soul, dying.
The doctor said only a bone marrow graft from the White Wolf bloodline could save him.
Elroy didn't hesitate. He looked toward the incineration pit.
"Retrieve the girl's body," he commanded his warriors. "Her bones will save the future Alpha."
He intended to butcher our daughter's corpse to save his illegitimate child.
Enraged, he hunted down the Rogue who had secretly stolen Emma's body before it could burn.
"Give me the body!" Elroy demanded. "And tell Annis to stop spoofing her credit cards in Europe and show her face!"
The Rogue looked at him with cold pity and threw a coroner's report at his chest.
"Annis isn't in Europe, Elroy."
"She has been rotting in a shallow grave for six months. Your mistress paid for the bullet."
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Chapter 2
Annis POV:
The villa was warm. It smelled of lavender and expensive polish, a stark contrast to the rot of the Runt Quarters. But under the pleasant scents, there was something foul.
I floated in the corner of the master bedroom. Elroy was pacing.
On the bed lay Ivonne.
She was beautiful in a sharp, dangerous way. But to me, she looked like a corpse painted to look alive. I drifted closer, sniffing the air. The scent was faint, masked by layers of perfume, but I knew it. Black magic. It smelled like sulfur and old blood. It was a scent blocker, used to hide one's true nature.
"Is... is the girl really gone?" Ivonne asked. Her voice was weak, feigned. She rubbed her swollen belly.
"Dead," Elroy said, loosening his tie. "Annis didn't show up. She abandoned the child's body. She truly has no heart."
"Oh, Elroy," Ivonne cooed, reaching out a hand. "She never deserved you. Those credit card alerts from Paris prove she moved on long ago."
Suddenly, Ivonne gasped. Her water broke.
The next few hours were a blur of activity. The Pack Doctor arrived. Maids scurried with hot water. Elroy held Ivonne's hand, his face a mask of tenderness I had never seen directed at me.
When the baby was finally born, Elroy held him up like a trophy.
"A son," Elroy breathed. "My heir. The future Alpha."
I looked at the baby. He was chubby and pink. But when I looked closer, with the eyes of a spirit, I saw the truth. There was no golden aura of an Alpha around him. His energy was muddy, chaotic. He smelled like a Rogue-a wolf with no loyalty, no honor.
And he was sick.
The baby's skin turned a terrifying shade of blue. His breathing hitched.
The Pack Doctor, a nervous man named Dr. Vance, scanned the infant with a handheld medical device. His face went pale.
"Alpha..." Dr. Vance stammered.
"What is it?" Elroy snapped, his protective instinct flaring.
"The child... his spiritual core is fractured," the doctor whispered. "It's a congenital defect. His heart cannot pump the mana needed to sustain a wolf form. He will die within hours."
Ivonne screamed. "Do something! Save him!"
"There is only one way," Dr. Vance said, trembling. "A graft. We need spiritual bone marrow to stabilize his core. Specifically, marrow from a direct ancestor with high regenerative properties. The White Wolf bloodline."
The room went silent.
My blood ran cold. The White Wolf. My family. We were legends, healers, rare and hunted. I had kept my lineage a secret to protect us.
Elroy's eyes narrowed. He looked out the window, toward the direction of the Runt Quarters. Toward the incineration pit.
"The girl," Elroy said. His voice was devoid of emotion. "Emma."
"Sir?" Dr. Vance asked.
"Annis was a nobody," Elroy reasoned aloud, pacing again. "But her grandmother... there were rumors she had white fur. If the runt carried even a trace of that gene..."
"The marrow would still be viable," Dr. Vance confirmed, wiping sweat from his brow. "Even if she has passed, the bones protect the essence for up to twenty-four hours. But we must hurry before the decay sets in."
"She is trash," Elroy said firmly. "She was weak in life. Let her serve the Pack in death. Her bones will save the future Alpha."
"No!" I shouted, rushing at him. I tried to punch him, to scratch his eyes out, but I passed through him like smoke. "She is not spare parts! She is your daughter! Don't you touch her!"
Elroy didn't hear my screams. He tapped his earpiece.
"Warriors," he commanded. "Go to the disposal site. Retrieve the girl's body. Bring it to the clinic. Prep for surgery."
He looked at his dying, illegitimate son with love, and then thought of my dead daughter as nothing more than a resource container.
"I will save our son, Ivonne," Elroy promised, kissing her forehead. "Whatever the cost."
I felt a crack in my soul, a deep fissure of hatred that finally overpowered the love I once held for him.
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8.4
Ayleen Avery was just a struggling hotel worker trying to survive her shift. But during a sudden blackout, she accidentally stumbled into the pitch-black VIP suite of a ruthless billionaire driven mad by chronic insomnia.
Calmed only by her unique natural scent of roses and rain, the terrifying man attacked her from the shadows and forced himself on her. Terrified and broken, Ayleen fled at dawn, unknowingly leaving behind her late mother's antique rose necklace in his bed.
Her greedy coworker found the necklace, claimed to be the woman from that night, and was instantly swept into a life of luxury. Meanwhile, Ayleen was blackmailed into a forced marriage with her attacker—Cassius Doyle—to save her adoptive father from prison. Deceived by the stolen necklace, Cassius believed Ayleen was a manipulative spy. He brought the coworker into their home and paraded her around the master bedroom.
"In this house, you are lower than the dirt on my shoes."
He choked Ayleen, forced her to sleep in a damp storage room, and treated her with violent disgust while pampering the thief.
Ayleen was suffocating in absolute despair. She had lost her innocence, her freedom, and her mother's only relic to a vicious liar. She couldn't understand how this all-powerful man could be so completely blind. Why couldn't he recognize the very scent that had cured his agonizing madness?
Staring at the dark bruises he had just left on her neck, Ayleen wiped the blood from her lip. She would endure this three-month marriage to secure her family's safety, but once the contract ended, she would expose the truth and tear down the fake savior he cherished so much.
7.8
Anna Williams never imagined her life would collide with Alexander Knight-the cold, ruthless CEO feared across industries. When fate pushes her into his path, she discovers that power and wealth come with dangerous chains. Bound by a contract she can't escape, Anna must navigate his world of secrets, betrayal, and a passion that burns hotter than she ever dreamed. But behind his icy exterior lies a man scarred by trust and haunted by loss.
Will she be able to melt the billionaire's heart, or will she remain just another possession... claimed by the CEO?
9.0
Elena Hart survived the crash.
Her memories didn't.
When she wakes in a pristine suburban home with a diamond on her finger and a man gripping her hand like she might disappear, she's told a simple truth:
He's her husband.
They've been married for two years.
They're deeply in love.
Caleb knows everything about her-how she takes her coffee, the scar on her thigh, the way she hums when she's anxious. The photos lining the walls prove their life together. The neighbours confirm it. Her doctor insists memory loss after trauma is common.
So why does her body recoil when he kisses her?
And why, every night, does another man visit her in dreams-bleeding, desperate, whispering:
You promised you'd run.
The dreams aren't romantic. They're frantic. Urgent. As if time is running out.
Then Elena finds something she was never meant to see.
A locked drawer in Caleb's office.
A second wedding ring.
A newspaper clipping about her accident-dated three weeks before the crash she remembers.
The more she questions, the more Caleb tightens his grip. His patience becomes surveillance. His affection becomes control. Doors begin locking. Her phone disappears. The neighbours stop meeting her eyes.
And the dreams start happening while she's awake.
A reflection in a window that isn't hers.
Footsteps behind her when no one is there.
A voice that says, He changed it. He changed everything.
What if she wasn't supposed to survive that crash?
What if the accident wasn't an accident?
As fractured memories return in violent flashes-running through rain, screaming in a dark parking lot, a different man's blood on her hands-Elena is forced to confront a horrifying possibility:
She wasn't stolen.
She was rewritten.
And the man who calls himself her husband didn't just save her life.
He erased it.
Now she must decide who the real ghost is-
The man haunting her dreams...
Or the one sleeping beside her.
Because this time, if she remembers the truth...
One of them won't let her live to tell it.
8.0
I spent ten years as the ward of Kason Oneal, the ruthless Underboss of the city's most dangerous crime family. He saved me when I was a child, raised me, and made me believe I was his queen.
But the moment his ex-girlfriend, Dalia, returned, the illusion shattered.
Kason demanded I return the jade pendant—the one he had hand-carved for my sixteenth birthday—just so he could hang it around Dalia's neck. To him, I was suddenly nothing more than a placeholder who had kept his bed warm.
The cruelty didn't stop there. He stood by and watched as Dalia shredded my clothes with scissors, laughing at my tears.
When I collapsed on the floor in agony from acute appendicitis, Kason didn't call an ambulance. Instead, he dragged me to a shady clinic, accusing me of faking a pregnancy to trap him. He ordered the doctor to "terminate it" while I was dying of sepsis on the table.
He called me trash. He called me property. He stripped away every ounce of dignity I had left, all to please a woman who was lying to his face.
I realized then that the hero who saved me when I was ten was dead. I was done begging for scraps of affection from a monster.
Trembling, I walked to the phone and dialed the number of the one man Kason feared most—his sworn enemy, Hadley Payne.
"Tell him yes," I whispered into the receiver. "I accept the arrangement. I will marry him."
Kason thought he could break me. Instead, he was about to watch his "property" become the Queen of the rival family.
9.3
She thought their love could survive anything. She was wrong.
For five years, Amara Hayes was the perfect wife - loyal, gentle, and endlessly forgiving. She believed her husband, Ethan Blackwell, when he said his late nights were for business. She trusted him when he swore his heart was hers.
Until the night she walked into his office and saw him making love to another woman.
Humiliated, heartbroken, and betrayed, Amara left without a word - leaving behind her wedding ring, her identity, and the man who destroyed her faith in love.
Three years later, she returns to New York as a powerful businesswoman with a new name and a cold smile. She's no longer the naive wife he controlled - she's his rival, his downfall, and his punishment.
But Ethan isn't the same man either. He's haunted by the woman he lost and desperate for redemption. And when fate throws them together again, old flames reignite amid a storm of revenge, pain, and forbidden desire.
He once broke her heart. Now, she'll make him wish he never did.
8.2
What if a succubus was sent to love the most broken, obsessive men across parallel worlds?
Isabelle Henderson is a high-level succubus who feeds on pure, intense human emotions-especially love. When she's recruited by a mysterious system to replace heroines who've abandoned their stories, she finds herself thrust into one dark romance after another.
Her mission? Make the yandere (lovestruck, obsessive) male leads fall for her. Completely. Irrevocably. Forever.
But these aren't ordinary men:
A genius investor who hasn't slept in five years, tormented by hyperthymesia and trauma
A violent mob boss with skin hunger who hates being touched-until her
A wheelchair-bound heir with suicidal thoughts and a dark secret
A high school god with split personalities who both want her
A disfigured medical genius with severe mysophobia (fear of germs) who can't stand anyone-except her
The twist? Unlike the original heroines, Isabelle isn't here to fix them. She's here to want them. Every twisted, possessive, obsessive part.
Because the purer the obsession, the sweeter the feast.
"They call it sickness. I call it dinner."