Dump the Alpha, Mated to the King
The Moon Goddess gave them a bond-Adrian gave his heart to someone else.
For three years, Luna Mira has lived in the shadow of her trauma, clinging to the comfort of an Alpha who felt like safety. until a grieving widow arrives and exposes the truth. While Mira struggles to heal, Adrian risks everything for another woman, showering her with the affection and gifts meant for his wife.
After a brutal betrayal on the streets of France, Mira learns that being a mate is destiny-but being a Luna is power. If Adrian won't choose her, she'll choose herself. and the most dangerous Lycan King in the world may already be waiting to claim what Adrian foolishly threw away.
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Chapter 7
Mira opened the door of her manor, her bones aching with exhaustion. Silence and emptiness greeted her.
Although she hadn't secured a formal collaboration with the king, the business trip to the royal capital had been far from a waste.
The bracelet King Evren had given her-the same one she'd almost taken off-opened doors that had once required negotiation and persuasion. Contracts that had stalled for months were finalized within days. Conversations shifted when she entered the room. For the first time, her team had looked at her not as the Alpha's wife, but as a leader in her own right.
The success had satisfied her, stirred something deeper. It pushed her to want more, to secure every remaining contract, to finalize her divorce as soon as possible. It had felt good, like she was back to being the Mira she was before she let herself get lost in love.
Now she stood alone, in her home, the emptiness a reminder of what her life had become.
She hadn't heard from Adrian-since he'd broken his promise to go meet Ivy-nor felt the familiar pulse of the mate bond.
It had been radio silence between them.
Slowly, she was getting used to his absence, getting used to living without him. Even the house no longer smelled like him. His scent had long since faded.
The old Mira would have been hurt. She would have felt the ache in her chest, would have reached instinctively for her mate.
But the new Mira-the one determined to finally stand on her own-did not care.
She sighed, glancing down at her bracelet once more. In the short time she'd had it, it had become an anchor.
She shut the door behind her, heading for the one place she craved the most.
Her bedroom.
The long days of meetings, negotiations, and travel finally caught up with her.
Just to rest. Just for a moment.
She lay down fully clothed, the bracelet cool against her skin as she drifted into sleep.
***
The air was thick, still-in a way that made the hairs on her neck stand up.
"Mira, run!" A woman screamed.
Mira tried, she really tried to run, to get away from there, but the scene was too gruesome, the pain too heavy.
"No," Mira sobbed, getting closer, grabbing the woman's hand-her mother's hand.
Her movement was slow, too slow, her limbs were heavy with pain and grief.
A sob escaped her lips-raw and broken.
There was blood. Too much blood.
It coated her hands, the ground, the woman's clothes.
As she held her dying mother's hand, the moment it had all gone wrong replayed in her head. She heard her mother's scream again and again, heard her being torn into.
"Mother," it was a broken, helpless whisper. She sobbed, shaking the woman's shoulders.
The woman tried to speak, struggled to move but in the end, all she could do was lie there and let the darkness slowly take her.
Mira watched the life drain from her green eyes-identical to Mira's.
She screamed, grabbing her limp mother, pain clawing at her chest. It had to be a dream, it had to be.
She heard movement, saw it from her side eye but she didn't get a chance to react.
She was thrown across the room, her back hitting the wall. The pain was instant, sharp and blinding.
She couldn't move, could only lie there-gasping for air, struggling to breathe-as heavy footsteps approached.
The footsteps were slow, torturous.
Until obsidian orbs came into view.
They were dark, filled with venom. His face twisted into a sneer and in that moment, she knew what was going to happen.
Her instinct screamed at her to get up, to leave but her body was too weak.
He touched her.
She felt his hands, caressing, groping, squeezing as helpless, broken sobs left her throat.
She was there again, feeling everything, hearing it all again, smelling it all again. He was going to defile her.
Her lungs pressed in on themselves, making it harder to breathe. Her vision blurred.
No!
She felt her body growing weaker, worn from everything that had happened. Her vision swam.
She was going to pass out.
Panic surged, hot and consuming.
"No!" She screamed.
"Shh..." Mira suddenly heard. She froze, her eyes snapping open. "It's okay. I've got you. I'll protect you."
It was suddenly very dark, but what stuck out to her was the fact that she didn't feel the callous hands anymore, didn't feel the hard ground biting into her skin. She felt warmth, familiar yet faraway.
She leaned into it, craving comfort, craving relief from the pain. From everything.
She caught a scent.
It was familiar, sweet in a way that called her. Her wolf stirred, awakening from her trauma-induced slumber.
"You're safe."
She believed the voice.
She squinted, trying to see who it was, to reach that familiar spot she felt. Her fingers trembled as she reached to touch him.
She was close, so close.
Then her eyes snapped open.
She gasped, sitting up, panting.
That same nightmare, that same memory-the day her life had ended. The day her mother had been killed.
Her chest tightened.
She felt that familiar pain that lingered, the pain that never really went away. But this time, it was tinged with something else, comfort.
She felt warmth on her skin. And when she looked down, the bracelet the King had gifted her was glowing.
She gasped, bringing it closer to study. It didn't feel dangerous, didn't feel alarming.
It felt comforting.
She leaned into it subconsciously.
As the glow subsided, only one thought remained in her mind.
Who had he been?
The man in her dream who had comforted her?
She knew it wasn't Adrian.
So who was he-and why had her body responded to him like that?
Her phone blared, dragging her out of the haze.
An alarm.
Mira flinched, her heart still racing as she reached for the device. For a second, the room felt unfamiliar-too quiet, too still-until reality settled back into place. The manor bedroom. The pale afternoon light filtering through half-drawn curtains. The steady weight of the bracelet around her wrist, cool now, lifeless once more.
She exhaled shakily and glanced at the screen.
Therapy Session - 4:00 PM.
Of course.
She rubbed a hand over her face and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Her body felt heavy, as though the dream had taken something from her and not given it back. The echo of that voice still lingered in her mind-calm, patient, protective.
"You're safe."
She pushed the thought away.
There would be time to unpack it later. Right now, she needed to be present.
***
"Grief doesn't just disappear, Mira," Dr. Eleanor reassured. "It takes time, years even. But it never really goes away."
Mira nodded absently, her mind far from the therapy session. Her eyes were fixed on the window, focusing on movements outside.
As much as she loved her therapist, she sometimes wished she didn't have to see the woman.
Dr. Eleanor was an elderly woman with strawberry blonde hair and kind hazel eyes.
Hazel eyes that were currently trying to unravel Mira.
"And the man you saw, it has to be Alpha Adrian."
Mira stiffened, her eyes immediately darting back to the woman.
"No, it wasn't." She countered, her thoughts slipping back to her dream. "I'm certain of it. It was someone else."
"You mentioned how your body reacted," Eleanor responded gently. "Only a mate can trigger such reaction."
Mira opened her mouth to respond, but no words could leave her mouth. Nothing she'd say would make sense to anyone but herself.
"It had to have been Alpha Adrian. I think you should focus on that. In times like this, when you feel down, lean into the matebond for anchoring."
Her body reacted before her mind caught up. Her eyes immediately hardened, her jaw clenching.
The elderly woman who had spent enough time around the girl instantly knew something was wrong.
"Is everything okay with you two?" Eleanor asked, her brows creasing in concern.
Mira hesitated. She considered telling her-telling someone exactly how she'd been feeling, how her husband's actions had hurt her, how her heart had become numb to the pain-but she knew better.
Eleanor would either defend Adrian, or convince her to stay.
And she didn't have the mental energy to hear that. So she forced a smile, raising her chin.
"Yes, Eleanor." her smile widened-practiced. "Adrian and I are fine."
Eleanor leaned forward slightly, her eyes squinted, studying her client closely.
"You didn't say his name once today"
Mira forced a laugh, waving her hand in feigned casualness.
"Fine," she rolled her eyes. "We may have had a little argument this afternoon. He wanted me to spend more time with him instead of coming for today's session."
"Hm," Eleanor hummed, still studying her client.
"You know how possessive Alphas can be." Mira added.
Finally, Dr. Eleanor settled back in her seat, momentarily satisfied.
"Alright. Remember to take your time, don't force yourself to get better."
Mira nodded, already standing to her feet. The therapy session always felt too long, too suffocating.
As much as she hated each session, she always left the room feeling lighter, as if speaking her pain aloud had loosened its grip, even if only slightly.
"Alright, goodbye Eleanor" she waved. "Thank you."
The woman didn't get to respond before Mira shut the door softly. She stepped out into the corridor, adjusting the strap of her bag, ready to leave.
That was when she heard it.
A familiar voice drifted from the VIP therapy room down the hall-low, tense, unmistakable.
She froze. She recognized that voice.
Adrian.
Her pulse spiked as the sound of his voice drifted through the partially closed door, stirring something sharp and unwelcome in her chest. She hadn't meant to listen. Hadn't meant to stop.
But her feet refused to move.
And before she could talk herself out of it, she realized-whatever was happening in that room, whatever Adrian was finally saying aloud...
She was about to hear it.
She got closer, heart pounding, instincts alert.
The next words she heard made her heart stop completely.
"Ivy." Adrian paused. "She's pregnant."
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7.7
Nora's life turned into a nightmare after she was banished from her pack by her own husband. She was subjected to mockery, abuse and humiliation before being cast out with nothing.
Faced with the cruelty of a world that had never once been kind to her, the moon goddess decided to bless her with her fated mate.
The same man she watched slaughter others without a single trace of mercy. The man who was twice as cold and twice as ruthless as the husband who destroyed her.
Yet he would not let her go. She found herself stuck between the husband who used her and the ruthless mate who wanted her but refused to admit it. Two powerful men. One woman who was never supposed to survive any of it. And a moon goddess who was not done with her yet.
8.0
Scarlett Hayes thought marrying James Whitmore would finally make her family see her as more than a burden.
Instead, it destroyed her life.
Framed for crimes she didn't commit, betrayed by the people she trusted most, and sentenced to prison while pregnant, Scarlett lost everything in a single night.
Then came the cruelest blow of all.
After giving birth in chains, she was told her baby had died.
The people responsible believed she would spend the rest of her life rotting behind bars.
They were wrong.
Five years later, Scarlett returns.
No longer the discarded daughter of the Hayes family. No longer the broken woman they left behind.
Now she is Commander Scarlett Hayes-a decorated war hero, the unseen force behind a global intelligence empire, and a woman powerful enough to make governments tremble.
She comes back for one reason only: revenge.
Her ex-husband, the stepsister who stole her life, and the family who buried her alive are about to learn exactly what happens when a woman with nothing left to lose takes back everything they stole.
But as Scarlett tears through the secrets of her past, one truth threatens to change everything-
the child she mourned for years may not be dead.
And the mysterious man connected to the night that changed her life has been watching from the shadows all along.
7.1
I was the top commander of a black-ops military program. After slaughtering my way through a hellish mission, I reached the extraction helicopter, trusting my second-in-command to watch my back.
But the moment our hands locked, he didn't pull me up. Instead, he plunged a syringe of lethal neurotoxin directly into my neck.
He aimed his gun at my chest, coldly stating that I was too dangerous to live. My lungs stopped, and I died in a pool of my own blood. But the endless blackness suddenly shattered. My consciousness violently forced its way into a new, broken shell. I woke up in a freezing alley, soaked in muddy rain.
This body belonged to seventeen-year-old Eliza Wyatt. A massive wave of foreign memories crashed into my brain. Her own younger sister had just stood at the top of the stairs with a mocking smile, watching street thugs beat Eliza to death.
"Take good care of the Wyatt family's eldest daughter. Tonight is the night she finally disappears."
The endless humiliation, the cold stares of her family, and the brutal betrayal by her own blood flashed before my eyes. Why was this fragile girl treated like garbage and pushed to her death by the very people who should have protected her?
I looked down at my pale, trembling hands. The top commander was dead, but in this bleeding shell, Eliza Wyatt was very much alive. I picked up a switchblade from the bloody puddle and stood up in the storm. It was time to hunt.
7.4
Shrouded in tales of pleasure and mystery, embark on a sensual adventure in a Cities of Sins, where the supernatural blends with the mundane in a city shrouded in fantastic tales and debauchery.
Come and discover this city, its inhabitants, and its ancient stories, amidst a tale of pleasure, lust, and tales that reveal the mysterious teachers who hide their secrets.
The question is: Are they really human or vampires?
This is the world where the dead, vampires, and witch tales intertwine in this hidden city full of mysteries from the past, amidst a life full of pleasure and lust.
In the midst of a mundane beginning, the girl was betrayed. Instead of Samantha finding solitude and suffering, she discovered a world of luxury, with her saviors, her teachers of pleasure, fantastic tales, legends of passion, shrouded in the supernatural. They embark on a limitless adventure, with sex, pleasure, and passion, which are always shrouded in fantastic power, in the world of passion and debauchery.
Lovecraft is a city that never sleeps. Built upon ancient ruins and fueled by centuries of secrets, it is known as the City of Sins, where pleasure and danger walk hand in hand. Its narrow streets, illuminated by red lanterns and eternal shadows, are the stage for encounters that defy reason: reclusive vampires hiding in decaying mansions, werewolves roaming under the full moon, witches whispering spells in hidden cafes, and mobsters controlling the underworld with iron fists and passionate hearts.
At the heart of the city, the Lost Canvas-a secret gallery-holds living portraits of forbidden loves and blood pacts. Each painting is a story, each brushstroke a memory of encounters that have marked generations. It is there that the handsome vampire Adrian, reclusive and mysterious, observes the world without ever fully surrendering. His life is a mosaic of interrupted passions, of glances that never turned into words, of promises lost in the night. But Lovecraft doesn't allow anyone to remain invisible for long.
Between the luxurious salons of socialites, the secret clubs of businessmen, and the alleys where supernatural mafias seal their pacts, the city pulsates with stories of desire and magic. Each encounter is brief but intense: a stolen kiss on a Gothic staircase, a forbidden dance in a hall lit by black candles, a whispered conversation on a ghost train that crosses the city at three in the morning. Lovecraft is made of these instants-moments that seem small, but carry the weight of eternities.
The city's inhabitants coexist with the mundane and the supernatural as if they were part of the same fabric. Businessmen negotiate with vampires, artists are inspired by fairies and elves, mobsters share territories with werewolves. It's a metropolis where power is measured not only in money, but also in spells, secrets, and seduction. Terror is subtle, almost elegant, manifesting itself in lingering gazes, in silences that conceal more than they reveal, in pacts that are never written, but always fulfilled.
Is a collection of stories that reveal Lovecraft's strengths: his ability to transform the everyday into magic, to make love a danger, and sin a promise. It is a city of wonders and dreams, of obscure encounters and ardent desires, where every corner holds a story and every shadow is an invitation. Lovecraft is not just a setting-he is a character, a lover and accomplice of all who dare to live in his eternal night.
9.5
I woke up gasping from a nightmare of flames devouring Chandler Finch's estate, my body wrapped in burning curtains as I died alone.
But my eyes opened to silk sheets in his penthouse master bedroom. He was alive beside me, his cedarwood scent real. This was my second chance—I'd been reborn.
His phone buzzed: Eugenia Stewart's "emergency." Her security detail reported her refusing meals, unstable. Chandler bolted without a glance, rushing to her side.
I signed the brutal cohabitation contract binding me to him, but Temperance had planted birth control pills in the trash—a trap to frame me. Chandler found them, exploded in jealous rage, crushing the pills to dust. "No child unless it's mine," he growled, possessive fire in his eyes.
Brett, Eugenia's lapdog, stormed in later, accusing me of manipulation. I fired back: Chandler demanded my womb for his heir. Brett paled, fled to tattle.
Then the storm hit—power outage, locked on the terrace in pouring rain, freezing as Eugenia faked an asthma attack on Chandler's line, stealing his focus again. I hung up, huddled with a stray puppy, nearly dying from hypothermia.
He'd never believed me before—Eugenia's lies always won, dooming me to isolation and fire. Why did her every whimper trump my screams? How could he be so blind?
This time, reborn weeks before the inferno, I wouldn't beg. I'd play his game, shatter Eugenia's web, and make Chandler mine—before the flames returned.
7.7
I trusted the wrong people in my past life.
My supposed lover and my sweet sister conspired against me, locking me inside a burning warehouse to die.
But the man I had spent my life hating, my ruthless captor Damien Sterling, rushed straight into that inferno and burned alive just to try and save me.
In my past life, I was utterly blind. I believed Julian's forged documents and Scarlett's fake affection. I even tried to assassinate Damien with a silver dagger they provided, breaking the heart of the only man who truly loved me. I died choking on thick ash, realizing too late who the real monsters were.
Why was I so incredibly foolish? Why did I let their vicious manipulation turn me into a weapon against the one person who would sacrifice absolutely everything for me?
Opening my eyes again, the phantom smell of smoke vanished.
I was sitting in the bloody water of Damien's bathtub, right after my staged suicide attempt.
When my sister sneaked into my penthouse suite and handed me the dagger to kill him again, I didn't hesitate.
I grabbed her hand tightly and plunged the sharp blade directly into my own shoulder.
"Please don't kill me, Scarlett!"
This time, I will ruthlessly ruin them both, and I will never let Damien go.