Claimed by three Alphas
Explicit 18+ | Reader Discretion Strongly Advised
Dark themes, noncon/dubcon, extreme kink, power imbalance, group dynamics, knotting, overstimulation, and possessive claiming ahead.
A brutal omegaverse world. Warring packs. Rare silver-eyed omega Kai Voss lives hidden until a midnight raid destroys his safety.
The most feared triad captures him: Thorne Blackwood, a pierced sadist who pushes limits; Aurelius Voss, the volatile second, his knot pulsing with hunger; Cassian Reyes, the silent, amber-eyed observer whose fixation vows complete ownership. Dragged to their mountain den, Kai becomes their prize.
Defiant and sharp-tongued, Kai resists every command. His body betrays him with slick, aching need. On the first night, the alphas take him, one by one, then together. They stretch him past reason. Knot him impossibly. Fill him until his rim thins visibly. Slick eases the searing burn into shattering pleasure.
"Room for one more?" Thorne growls, forcing his pierced length beside the two already locked inside. He drags across sensitive spots until Kai arches, tears falling, his body yielding as omega instincts beg for more.
Three cocks locked and throbbing, owning him entirely.
"Fuck, he's taking us all," Aurelius groans.
Cassian watches silently, eyes blazing, plotting the next step to remake Kai forever.
Raw conquest becomes unbreakable obsession: relentless heats, punishments blending pain and ecstasy, jealous rivalries over cries, rare tenderness binding possession deeper.
Three ruthless alphas pursue the forbidden, shattering their defiant omega until he is stretched wide, ruined, reborn in their image. Relentless desire shows no mercy: tight entrances forced open, rimmed raw by impossible girths, slick-soaked and pulsing under unyielding ownership.
Hide and read in secret. Once the story begins, escape is impossible. Squirm. Ache. Hunger for every page.
DON'T BLAME ME WHEN YOU CAN'T STOP READING ALL 150 CHAPTERS ⚠️🔞‼️
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Chapter 2
They carried me like I was already theirs.
My wrists burned where Aurelius gripped them. Cassian's hands stayed firm on my waist, fingers digging just enough to remind me I could not break free. Thorne walked ahead. His long strides set the pace. Every step crushed leaves and breaking branches under his boots. No one spoke.
The forest grew thicker. Branches clawed at my arms and legs. Moonlight barely reached us now. The air turned colder and heavier. Their scents wrapped around me tighter. Thorne's metal and leather. Aurelius's smoke and aggression. Cassian's dark spice, quiet but everywhere.
My body would not stop betraying me.
Slick kept dripping. It soaked through my thin pants. Every time I shifted, the wet slide between my thighs made me clench harder. Heat pulsed low in my gut. My hole fluttered, empty and desperate. I hated it. I hated them. I hated myself most of all.
We broke through a line of pines. A stone structure rose ahead. Not a house. A den. Built into the side of the mountain. Thick timber walls. Iron reinforcements. Narrow windows like slits. Torches burned outside the heavy door. Guards nodded to Thorne as he passed. They did not look at me. They knew better.
Thorne pushed the door open. Heat rushed out. Firelight. The smell of wood smoke and fur and sex. My stomach twisted.
They carried me inside.
The main room was large. Stone floor covered in thick pelts. A massive hearth roared on one wall. Low couches and furs scattered around. Chains hung from beams in the ceiling. Not decoration. Tools.
Aurelius let go of my wrist first. He shoved me forward. I stumbled onto a wide fur rug in the center of the room. Cassian released my waist but stayed close behind me. Thorne shut the door with a heavy thud. The sound echoed.
I spun to face them. My chest heaved. "Let me go."
Thorne smiled. Slow. Dangerous. "No."
Aurelius circled me again. He sniffed the air. "Gods, he reeks of need. Already dripping like a bitch in heat."
"Shut up," I snapped.
Thorne stepped closer. He towered over me. "You talk too much, little omega."
He grabbed my shirt collar. One hard yank ripped it down the front. Fabric tore. Cool air hit my skin. I tried to cover myself. Cassian caught my arms from behind. He pinned them to my sides. Strong. Unyielding.
Thorne's eyes roamed over my bare chest. My nipples hardened in the heat of the room and under his stare. He dragged a rough finger down my sternum. Slow. Deliberate. Stopped just above my waistband.
"Pretty," he murmured. "Soft. Breakable."
I jerked against Cassian's hold. "Don't touch me."
Aurelius laughed again. "He says that now."
Thorne hooked a finger in my waistband. He tugged. The pants slid down my hips. I twisted. Kicked. Cassian tightened his grip. My pants pooled at my ankles. Slick glistened on my inner thighs. Obvious. Shameful.
Thorne crouched. His face level with my groin. He inhaled deeply. "Fuck. Sweet. Wet. Mine."
"Not yours," I hissed.
He looked up. Green eyes dark. "We'll see."
He stood. Nodded to the others.
Cassian lifted me. Effortless. He carried me to a low, padded bench near the fire. Thick leather straps waited at the corners. He laid me face-up. My back hit the padding. My arms stretched above my head. Aurelius fastened the wrist cuffs. Tight. Secure.
Thorne took my ankles. Spread my legs wide. Strapped them down. Exposed. Open. Helpless.
I thrashed once more. The bench did not move. The straps bit into my skin.
Aurelius leaned over me. His golden hair fell forward. "Look at you. All spread out. Leaking. Ready."
"I'm not ready for anything," I spat.
Thorne stepped between my legs. He palmed himself through his pants. The outline was thick. The piercings glinted even in firelight. "You will be."
Cassian moved to my head. He knelt. One hand rested on my throat. Not squeezing. Just holding. Claiming. His amber eyes never left mine.
Thorne unbuckled his belt. The sound echoed. Leather slid free. He shoved his pants down just enough.
His cock sprang out. Thick. Heavy. The piercings caught the firelight. A thick ring through the head. Smaller bars along the shaft. Designed to drag. To hurt. To make you feel every inch.
My hole clenched. More slick leaked out. Traitor body.
Thorne stroked himself once. Slow. "First taste is mine."
He lined up. The pierced head nudged my entrance. Cold metal against hot, slick skin.
I sucked in a breath.
He pushed.
The head breached me. The ring caught on my rim. Sharp stretch. Burn. I gasped.
He sank deeper. Inch by inch. The bars dragged along my walls. Every ridge. Every bump. Fire and pressure and too much.
I arched. Tears pricked my eyes.
"Fuck," Aurelius breathed. "Look at him take it."
Cassian's hand tightened on my throat. Just enough to feel my pulse race.
Thorne bottomed out. His hips flush against mine. His knot already swelling at the base. Not locked yet. Teasing.
He leaned down. Breath hot against my ear.
"Welcome home, little omega."
Then he started to move.
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9.5
Alina was the eldest daughter of the prestigious Padilla family, but everyone mocked her as a defective dud who couldn't cast a single spell.
The moment she woke up, her father and younger sister Karina barged into her room, demanding she sign a transfer agreement to the Aethelgard Order-the most brutal faction on the continent.
It wasn't just a transfer; it was a legal disownment. In her past life, Alina didn't realize Karina was also reborn. She had dropped to her knees and begged to stay. Her reward? Her magic was violently drained from her veins by her own family. Her fiancé drove a blade through her chest, and her sister stood over her bleeding body, smiling. She had ruined her hands making potions for them, only to be discarded like trash.
The phantom pain of her chest being ripped open still burned behind her ribs. Looking at the hypocritical family waiting for her tears, she felt nothing but exhausting disgust. Why should she ever be their stepping stone again?
"For the honor of the family, you leave today."
Her father sneered as she calmly bit her thumb and pressed her bloody fingerprint onto the contract. This time, Alina didn't cry. She packed a single bag and walked out the door, heading straight for the deadly Aethelgard Order to show them what a true monster looked like.
9.2
After catching my fiancé cheating with my adoptive sister, I broke off our engagement on the spot.
In retaliation, my abusive adoptive parents sold me to Kaelen Knight, the Lycan King, to clear our pack's debts.
He was rumored to be a ruthless, reclusive monster who had been horribly crippled in a fire centuries ago.
To ensure my absolute ruin, my sister planted fake love letters to my ex in my luggage and anonymously destroyed my university scholarship, cutting off my only escape route to the human world.
"A wolfless whore. You planned to drug me," Kaelen sneered, looking at the fake evidence with absolute disgust.
Believing I was a spy, my new husband had his guards throw me into the freezing woods with the Dire Wolves, leaving me to survive the night alone.
I was just a broken, wolfless Omega, entirely at the mercy of a cruel, powerless Lycan and a family that wanted me dead.
But I was wrong about him being powerless.
One night, I accidentally saw him rise from his wheelchair, his tall frame radiating an overwhelming, lethal aura.
He wasn't crippled at all.
The secret I thought was my shield was actually a loaded gun pointed at my head. Trapped with a terrifying predator, I had to stop playing the victim and fight for my life.
7.2
Allie Patterson poured fifteen years into her husband Grayson’s tech startup, living in a cramped San Jose apartment. Every penny, every late night coding session, was for their shared future, built on his constant claims the company struggled, always on the verge of its big break.
Then, a grant deed arrived: a stunning $4.2 million Atherton villa, paid in full, listing Grayson and an unknown Kacey Schmidt as joint tenants.
Her coffee mug shattered as Allie’s world imploded. Driving to the mansion, she found Kacey in silk pajamas, flaunting a massive pink diamond and, beneath it, Grayson’s grandmother’s heirloom ring – the one he’d tearfully claimed to have lost years ago.
Kacey purred, "He's in the shower. We were so tired last night."
The words were a serrated knife, twisting, confirming years of lies.
Humiliation and rage burned out, leaving a terrifying, absolute silence. All her sacrifice and trust were a cruel, elaborate joke, orchestrated by the man she loved.
Allie calmly took photos, then gave herself one minute in her beat-up car to mourn. When it passed, her tears stopped, replaced by cold, calculated murder in her eyes. She typed a text to Grayson:
"Come home early tonight. I have a surprise for you."
8.5
Five years ago, Nina Hale lost everything... her family, her reputation, and the man she once loved. Betrayed by her own sister and abandoned by those she trusted most, she disappeared without a trace.
Now she's back.
With a new identity and a burning determination, Nina is ready to reclaim her life and chase the dream she once gave up: becoming a star actress. But her return awakens old enemies, and her scheming sister Lydia is determined to ruin her again.
Just when Nina thinks things can't get worse, she's caught in another trap... and unexpectedly crosses paths with a quiet, lonely little boy.
Ethan Grant hasn't spoken in years.
Feeling responsible for him, Nina agrees to stay and help the child come out of his shell. But she didn't expect Ethan's dangerously charming father, Lucas Grant, to enter the picture.
Cold, powerful, and impossible to read, Lucas slowly finds himself drawn to the woman who brightens his son's world.
What begins as a simple act of kindness soon turns into something far more complicated, because Nina came back for revenge.
She never planned to fall in love.
**********
"I saw you with him," Lucas said quietly, but the tension in his jaw gave him away.
Nina exhaled, crossing her arms. "You don't get to care."
"Don't I?" He stepped in, close enough that she had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes.
"This is just a contract."
"Then why does it bother me?" His hand hovered near her waist, not touching-yet.
"It shouldn't." Her breath faltered.
His gaze darkened, "And yet it does."
9.6
My world revolved around Jax Harding, my older brother's captivating rockstar friend.
From sixteen, I adored him; at eighteen, I clung to his casual promise: "When you're 22, maybe I'll settle down."
That offhand comment became my life's beacon, guiding every choice, meticulously planning my twenty-second birthday as our destiny.
But on that pivotal day in a Lower East Side bar, clutching my gift, my dream exploded.
I overheard Jax' s cold voice: "Can't believe Savvy's showing up. She' s still hung up on that stupid thing I said."
Then the crushing plot: "We' re gonna tell Savvy I' m engaged to Chloe, maybe even hint she' s pregnant. That should scare her off."
My gift, my future, slipped from my numb fingers.
I fled into the cold New York rain, devastated by betrayal.
Later, Jax introduced Chloe as his "fiancée" while his bandmates mocked my "adorable crush"-he did nothing.
As an art installation fell, he saved Chloe, abandoning me to severe injury.
In the hospital, he came for "damage control," then shockingly shoved me into a fountain, leaving me to bleed, calling me a "jealous psycho."
How could the man I loved, who once saved me, become this cruel and publicly humiliate me?
Why was my devotion seen as an annoyance to be brutally extinguished with lies and assault?
Was I just a problem, my loyalty met with hatred?
I would not be his victim.
Injured and betrayed, I made an unshakeable vow: I was done.
I blocked his number and everyone connected to him, severing ties.
This was not an escape; this was my rebirth.
Florence awaited, a new life on my terms, unburdened by broken promises.
8.6
For two years, I was trapped behind my own eyes, a prisoner in my own skull.
A crazed fan had hijacked my body after a brutal car crash, wearing my skin like a cheap suit.
When my soul finally locked back into my flesh in a cramped hospital room, I realized she had destroyed everything I built.
This parasitic stalker had drained my massive fortune to zero, buying luxury gifts for a mediocre actor and turning me into the internet's most hated woman.
My phone was flooded with death threats, and the hashtag demanding I go to hell was trending at number one.
Even the hospital nurses despised me. One marched into my room, raising her hand to violently slap my pale cheek.
"You psychotic bitch, you make me sick!"
Worse, my sprawling Beverly Hills estate had been foreclosed and sold to a mysterious billionaire named Kasey Dominguez.
I had absolutely nothing left. No money. No reputation. No home.
The sheer violation of watching a psychotic stranger ruin my life while I was locked in the passenger seat of my own mind made my blood boil.
I refused to let her destroy my legacy.
As the nurse's hand descended, my atrophied muscles snapped into action.
I twisted her wrist until the joint popped, grabbed the keys to my freedom, and slipped out into the cold Los Angeles night.
I was going to take my life back, starting with the billionaire who thought he owned my house.