Bound to an Alpha Who Hates Me
I arrived at the Blackwood Pack House as the bride in an arranged marriage, a political pawn meant to secure an alliance with their Alpha, Grayson Wilder.
His family treated me like trash from the moment I walked in. His sister then deliberately sent me to the wrong room-the Alpha's private chambers.
When Grayson found me in his bed, he didn't ask questions. He shoved me to the floor, his eyes glowing with rage as he accused me of being a social climber trying to trap him. His mother and sister watched from the doorway, their faces alight with triumph, ready to see me torn apart.
They had no idea I was there to save them, a secret deal made with the elders to prevent their pack from collapsing. I was the one with the power, hiding my true identity for their sake, yet they treated me like a stray dog who had wandered into their pristine home.
But when he truly looked at me, his rage faltered, replaced by shocked recognition.
He saw a ghost from a past he couldn't remember.
And I knew this war wasn't just for my survival, but for a truth he was terrified to face.
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Chapter 6
Amiyah POV
The silence inside the SUV was heavier than the steel chassis surrounding us. Grayson drove like a man possessed, his knuckles white against the leather steering wheel, the speedometer climbing to dangerous heights. But it wasn't the speed that made my *Inner Wolf* pace anxiously in my mind; it was the suffocating density of his scent.
Burnt cedar and ozone filled the cabin, thick and cloying, choking out the air conditioning. It was the smell of an Alpha on the brink of violence.
"You smell like him," Grayson finally broke the silence, his voice a low, vibrating growl that seemed to rattle my very bones. He didn't look at me, his eyes fixed on the blurring road ahead. "Every time I breathe, I taste his pathetic, grassy scent on you. It’s nauseating."
I crossed my arms, staring out the window at the passing city lights. "It was a hug, Grayson. A goodbye. Jadyn is a friend."
"A friend doesn't rub his scent gland against your neck!" Grayson slammed his hand on the dashboard, making me jump. The car swerved slightly before he corrected it. "He was marking you. Staking a claim. And you stood there and let him disrespect me."
"Disrespect you?" I turned to him, incredulity sharpening my tone. "We have a contract, remember? Three months. That is the extent of your claim on me. You don't own me."
He slammed on the brakes as we reached a red light, turning his body toward me. The gold in his eyes was swirling violently, swallowing the human iris. The power of his *Alpha Command* pushed against my mental barriers, demanding submission, but my own bloodline—ancient and strong—held firm.
"You are my fiancée," he snarled, leaning into my personal space. "You wear my ring. You live in my house. To the world, you are mine."
"To the world," I countered, my voice drop-dead calm despite my racing heart. "But in private? You haven't marked me, Grayson. There is no bite on my neck. No bond in our minds. Until you put your mark on me, do not presume to dictate who I can hug."
His gaze dropped to the bare curve of my neck. For a second, the rage in his eyes faltered, replaced by a hunger so raw it made my breath hitch. His nostrils flared, inhaling deeply, and I knew he was trying to find *my* scent beneath Jadyn's. But then the light turned green, and the moment shattered. He faced forward, jaw clenched tight enough to snap steel, and floored the gas.
We didn't speak for the rest of the drive.
*
The Blackwood Pack's annual Unity Gala was in full swing by the time we arrived. The grand ballroom was a sea of silk dresses and tuxedos, the air vibrating with the chatter of the elite. Grayson abandoned me the moment we stepped through the double doors, storming off toward the bar without a backward glance.
Fine by me.
I made my way to the powder room to compose myself. The encounter in the car had left my nerves frayed. When I stepped back out into the plush, carpeted hallway, however, my path was blocked.
Kirsten Matthews leaned against the wall, swirling a glass of champagne. She was dressed in a gown that cost more than most wolves made in a year, her blonde hair perfectly coiffed. She looked me up and down with a sneer that didn't reach her cold, calculating eyes.
"You look lost, little wolf," she drawled. "The servant's entrance is around the back."
I moved to step around her, but she shifted, blocking me again. She reached into her clutch and pulled out a sleek, black credit card, holding it out between two manicured fingers.
"Let's cut the charade," Kirsten said, her voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper. "We both know you're just a gold digger from some backwater pack in the middle of nowhere. You're out of your depth, honey. Grayson needs a real Luna, someone with breeding and status. Not... whatever you are."
She pressed the card toward my chest. "There's ten million dollars on this account. Take it. Leave tonight. Go back to the boonies and buy yourself a nice little trailer."
I looked at the card, then up at her face. The sheer audacity was almost impressive.
"Ten million?" I repeated, a small, amused smile playing on my lips.
"It's more money than you'll ever see in a lifetime," she scoffed.
I laughed softly, a sound that made her frown deepen. "Kirsten, my grandfather gives me more than that for my birthday just to update my wardrobe. Keep your pocket money. You might need it to buy some class."
I brushed past her, leaving her standing there with her mouth agape, the black card dangling uselessly in her hand.
*
I re-entered the ballroom, head held high, only to run straight into another wall of hostility.
Georgiana Wilder, Grayson's mother and the former Luna, materialized from the crowd. She was a formidable woman, draped in diamonds that looked heavy enough to crush a lesser wolf. Her disapproval hit me like a physical wave.
"Where have you been?" she hissed, grabbing my elbow with a grip that was painful. "The Alpha is speaking with the Elders from the Northern Territories, and his mate is nowhere to be found."
"I was using the restroom, Georgiana," I said, gently but firmly removing my arm from her grasp.
"A proper future *Luna* stands behind her *Alpha*," she lectured, her eyes narrowing. "She does not wander off like a loose Omega looking for attention. You are embarrassing this family. Do you have any idea how much effort we are putting into making you look presentable?"
My *Inner Wolf* bristled. I was done being treated like a prop.
"I thought a Luna's duty was to build relationships for the Pack," I replied coolly, meeting her gaze without flinching. "Not just to stand there like a pretty decoration to stroke the Alpha's ego."
Georgiana’s face went rigid with shock. Before she could unleash her retort, the room's chatter suddenly died down. A spotlight swept across the floor, landing on the grand stage where a black grand piano sat gleaming under the lights.
Kirsten Matthews was walking up the stairs to the stage, a microphone in hand and a predatory smirk fixed on her face. Her eyes locked onto mine across the room, promising a humiliation far worse than a private bribe.
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7.0
She was desperate. He was merciless.
Liana Moore's sister's life is on the line, and the only person who can save her is Dominic Vale-the man who destroyed her family years ago.
One year. One marriage. One chance to survive.
Dominic is cold, controlling, and unforgiving. Liana is fierce, stubborn, and trapped in a union built on hatred and power.
But when secrets are revealed and the line between punishment and protection blurs, the fire between them becomes impossible to ignore.
In a marriage never meant to exist, love is the most dangerous risk of all.
8.8
My father bailed a violent ex-con out of prison just to force me into a marriage with him. I stood in a filthy Bronx hallway, my Vera Wang gown dragging through the grime, knowing this was the price for my mother’s life. If I didn't marry the man behind the steel door, the wire transfer for her hospital ventilator wouldn't go through the next morning.
The man, a scarred giant named Dock, treated me with cold contempt, telling me he didn't touch things he didn't want—and he didn't want a "Jacobson." I thought I had hit rock bottom, tied to a criminal while my family lived in luxury. But the nightmare was just beginning.
When I tried to return my wedding dress to pay for rent, my sister Janie and stepmother found me. They laughed as security dragged me out of the boutique, calling me a "charity case." When I finally crawled back to our family manor to beg for the money my father had promised, Janie revealed the horrific truth. She had liquidated my mother’s medical trust to fund a waterfront real estate project.
"Get out and let your mother rot," she screamed, throwing a glass of ice water in my face before having guards dump me in the dirt. I knelt on the gravel, wet and bleeding, realizing my own flesh and blood had signed my mother's death warrant for a profit. I had nothing left—no money, no home, and a husband who was supposed to be a monster.
I didn't understand why they hated me so much, or how I would survive the night. But then, a black car screeched to a halt in front of me. Dock pulled me inside, his eyes burning with a lethal coldness I’d never seen in a common thug.
As he wiped the blood from my hands, he picked up a encrypted phone and gave a single command.
"Initiate Project Titan. I want the Jacobson Group insolvent by Friday."
I looked at the man I thought was a broke felon, realizing I hadn't just married a stranger—I had married the most dangerous man in the city, and he was about to burn my family's world to the ground.
9.2
For eight years, I was the perfect, understanding wife. My husband, Gavin, insisted his company retreats were strictly for employees. No spouses allowed. I never questioned it, believing I was supporting his demanding career.
Then I saw a photo from his last ski trip to Aspen. All his colleagues were there, smiling beside their wives. And in the center stood Gavin, his arm wrapped possessively around another woman. She was wearing my blue silk dress-the one he swore I must have lost at the dry cleaners.
My world didn't just crack; it shattered. I discovered that for our entire marriage, he had been living a double life. This woman, Chanelle, wasn't just his mistress. She was his public wife.
She was the one who went on lavish trips to Hawaii and Europe. She was the one introduced to his colleagues and clients. She was even listed as his emergency contact-his spouse-in the official company directory.
I wasn't just the wife he cheated on. I was the wife he completely erased.
But my heartbreak quickly hardened into cold resolve. He was expecting tears and a quiet breakdown. He wasn't expecting me to show up at his company's annual awards gala, marriage certificate in hand, ready to introduce myself to the world he' d hidden from me.
8.3
Six years ago, I was a naive girl sold by my father to the powerful Sanders estate, only to be tossed onto the streets after a brutal assault they labeled "marital infidelity." I fled the country pregnant and broken, hiding from the shadow of a husband I had never even met. Now, I've returned to New York with my triplets to sign the final divorce papers and disappear forever.
But Archibald Sanders-the man I was told was a crippled recluse-intercepted us with the cold precision of a predator. He didn't see the woman his family destroyed; he saw a gold-digger who had shamed his name. His security team hunted us to a grimy motel, using tactical force to snatch my children away and drag me to his glass-walled empire.
In his office, he loomed over me, demanding a DNA test and threatening to throw me in prison while my babies were lost to the foster system. He was convinced I'd cheated, yet he stared at my sons with a haunting confusion, unable to ignore the stormy blue eyes that were a perfect mirror of his own. I stood there, paralyzed by his scent-the sharp tang of rain and expensive leather that triggered the icy dread of my worst nightmares.
How could he accuse me of betrayal when he felt exactly like the monster who had shattered my life in that dark hotel room?
"I'll sign anything," I sobbed, "just give me my kids."
But the game changed when my five-year-old son hacked the tower's security, holding the skyscraper hostage to save me. In the chaos, a fragile, silent boy-Archibald's secret son-wandered into the room and reached for me as if I were his missing soul. Archibald's face turned to stone as he tore up the agreement and locked the doors.
"Until I find out why my son is looking at you like that," he growled, "you aren't going anywhere."
9.2
Five years ago, I faked my death in a yacht explosion just to escape my ruthless, controlling husband, Gerald Sinclair. Now, I have returned to Boston as the new Dean of Medicine at St. Jude Hospital.
My only goal was to secretly check on my seven-year-old daughter, Cassidy. But what I saw shattered my heart. She was locked inside a heavily guarded VIP suite like a prisoner, so psychologically broken that she was standing on a windowsill, ready to jump.
Gerald's armed security team treated the hospital like a military base, forcing her to swallow heavy psychiatric pills. When she managed to escape through the air ducts and collapsed into my arms in the courtyard, her small, feverish body trembled violently.
"No! I don't want to go back to the white room!"
She begged me, crying in terror. But because my identity was a secret, I could only watch helplessly as Gerald's security chief tore my own child from my embrace and locked her back in the cage.
I didn't understand why Gerald would rather destroy our daughter's mind than let us go. Was his twisted obsession and need for control worth driving his own flesh and blood to the brink of death?
Now, my cover is blown. Gerald just received the message that I am alive, and he is flying back in a blind rage, freezing my accounts and locking down the entire city to trap me.
But he forgot one thing. I am no longer the helpless wife he backed into a corner. This time, I am taking my daughter back.
7.9
The memory wolf
7.9
"I am not fully human, I am not fully wolf. And I am far from safe."
Ayla has always felt normal, but when a silver-eyed wolf tears through the forest, she discovers powers she can barely control. The wolf inside her hungers, whispers, and fights to take over, and the pack she calls home begin to fear her more than the rogue wolves outside. Ancient symbols begin to surface. Secrets her mother buried resurface.
Hunted by a shadowy predator known only as the Shadow Wolf, Ayla must master her instincts, uncover her origins, and survive a world that refuses to accept her. But every step toward control draws her closer to the dangerous truth: some forces are older, stronger, and deadlier than the pack itself and one of them wants her.