
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 5
Annis POV:
The drive back was a blur of motion sickness and terror. I was trapped in the passenger seat of Elroy's SUV. He drove like a madman, the speedometer climbing past 100. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel, the headlights cutting through the pitch-black forest like knives.
"It's not true," he muttered to himself, over and over. "It's a lie. Korey is lying."
I sat there, staring at him. I remembered the day we met. I remembered how he smelled like rain and pine. I remembered how his touch used to make electricity dance under my skin-the classic sign of Mates.
Now, looking at him, I felt nothing but cold ash.
He pulled out his phone and dialed Ivonne.
"Elroy?" her voice came through the speakers, sweet and cloying. "Did you find the body? Is the marrow on its way?"
Elroy didn't answer immediately. He just breathed.
"Elroy?" she asked again, a hint of panic in her tone.
"Ivonne," Elroy said, his voice surprisingly steady. "Do you remember the gala last year? The one where I collapsed?"
There was a pause. A beat of silence that lasted too long.
"Of course, darling," she said. "You were working so hard."
"Did you hire anyone that week?" Elroy asked. "Any... contractors?"
"What are you talking about?" Ivonne laughed, but the pitch was too high. "Just focus on our son. He is getting weaker."
Elroy hung up.
He didn't go home. He drove to the Pack archives. He stormed in, ignoring the surprised clerk, and went straight to the financial records. As the Alpha, he had access to everything.
He pulled up the accounts. He searched for the date of my death.
He cross-referenced the "Paris" withdrawals. He traced the IP addresses. They didn't originate in France. They originated from a burner phone registered to a shell company.
Elroy traced the shell company. It took him ten minutes. The trail led to a known Rogue mercenary group.
He stared at the screen. The blue light illuminated the horror on his face.
"She paid them," he whispered. "She paid them to kill my Mate and faked her life to keep me blind."
He stood up, the chair crashing backward.
Rain began to lash against the windshield as he drove back to the villa. The sun was setting, casting long, bloody shadows across the lawn.
He walked into the house. Ivonne met him at the door, a glass of wine in her hand. She looked perfect. Too perfect.
"Where is the body?" she asked, looking behind him.
Elroy stopped. He took a deep breath. He inhaled her scent.
For years, he had smelled lavender and honey. But now, with the truth shattering the illusion, his nose finally worked.
Under the perfume, under the magic, she smelled of sulfur. She smelled of rot. And she smelled of excitement.
She wasn't grieving for her sick son. She was excited about the power she would gain if he survived.
"You smell like a corpse," Elroy said flatly.
Ivonne froze. The wine glass slipped from her fingers and shattered on the floor. Red wine pooled like blood around her feet.
"Elroy, you're tired," she said, her smile faltering. "Come, let me-"
She reached for him.
Elroy stepped back. It was a small movement, but it was monumental. He rejected her touch.
"Don't," he growled. The Alpha tone was back, but this time, it was directed at her.
"Where is Annis?" he asked.
"She's dead, Elroy! You know that!" Ivonne cried. "Why do you keep asking about that useless woman?"
"Because," Elroy said, his eyes burning with a terrifying light, "I think I just realized that I am the one who killed her."
He turned and walked out the door again. He jumped into his car.
"Where are you going?" Ivonne screamed from the porch.
"To see my daughter," Elroy said.
He drove back to the incineration pit.
I sat next to him, silent and cold. I watched him unravel. And for the first time, I didn't want him to suffer. I just wanted him to let me go.
He arrived at the pit. It was dark now. The fire was out.
He walked to the slab where he had thrown Emma.
It was empty.
Elroy fell to his knees on the concrete. He touched the spot where her little body had been.
"Emma," he choked out.
Then, he threw his head back and howled.
It wasn't a human cry. It was the sound of a wolf that had lost its pack, its mate, and its pup. It was the sound of a monster realizing it was a monster.
I stood over him, looking down at his shaking shoulders.
"Cry all you want, Elroy," I whispered into the wind. "Tears won't bring us back."
The moon broke through the clouds, illuminating the empty slab, and the broken Alpha kneeling in the ashes of his own making.
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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."