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 8
Mira's lungs stopped working.
She moved-or her body did. She didn't realize what she was doing. Her body simply led her closer, to hear more, to confirm if those gut-wrenching words really came from her mate.
Her wolf perked up, senses alert, listening.
"I haven't told Mira yet," Adrian continued. "I'll tell her soon."
Her vision blurred, a dull twisting pain settled deep in her gut.
She pressed her lips together, swallowing the sound that clawed its way up her throat.
"What're you going to do about the baby?" A deep voice asked-his therapist.
"Mira," Adrian announced.
Mira froze, thinking she'd been caught till he continued, further shattering her heart.
"Mira can raise the child. She's always wanted one, we can make her adopt it."
Make her adopt another woman's child? His mistress's child?
She clenched her jaw, feeling a mix of anger and pain.
"And what about the Luna?" His therapist asked. "Wouldn't she feel uncomfortable? Like you're forcing her."
"We're not." Adrian responded, his voice sharp. "We're not forcing anything and she won't feel that way. It's Mira," he chuckled lowly. "I can just convince her. She'll listen to me."
Mira's legs almost gave out.
Was that really how he saw her? A weakling he could manipulate. He'd taken her love for granted, taken her love as a sign of weakness.
She stood there, unable to move, listening to them plotting to have her raise the baby.
"I need to use the bathroom," Adrian excused, rising to his feet.
Mira's eyes widened. Her eyes scanned the hallway, looking for a place to hide.
She spotted a random door.
She didn't think. Her body reacted before her mind could, instinct dragging her into the nearest room as her heart slammed against her ribs. Just as he was stepping out, she was stepping into her escape room, shutting the door quietly behind her.
She pressed her back against the door, holding her breath as she heard his footsteps approaching.
Her heart thundered.
Had he spotted her?
He walked right past, his voice soft as he spoke to Ivy over the phone.
She finally let out a breath when she could no longer hear his footsteps.
That was close.
She stared at the ceiling, that familiar ache coming back to her chest.
It was all she seemed to feel lately.
Pain.
Caused by the one person supposed to love her.
She bit her lip. One thing remained unclear to her. How long had Ivy been pregnant? And who was responsible?
Her breathing quickened.
It couldn't be Adrian. Could it?
She exited the room, needing answers.
An idea popped up in her head, one she knew was risky but she didn't give herself time to ponder it.
She acted.
She knocked gently on the door Adrian had exited from.
The therapist who had been going through paperwork looked up, his brows creasing in confusion.
"Luna," he bowed. "What're you...?" He trailed off.
Mira plastered on a warm smile.
"Eleanor-Dr. Eleanor mentioned wanting to see you."
"Oh." He glanced at the file on his desk-Adrian's client file. "Thank you Luna. I'm busy with a client-he stepped out for a minute. I'll check what she wants later."
"No," Mira's smile tightened. "She said it was urgent. If you want, I can wait here and inform your client about the situation." She offered.
"That won't be necessary," he responded, his eyes darting between her and the door.
Mira held her breath.
"Alright," he responded finally. "I'll go see what she wants."
The both of them exited the office together, Mira going in the opposite direction as him. She slowed, made sure he disappeared down the hallway before she turned around and entered his office.
She had only one mission. Her heart raced, adrenaline pumping through her veins.
She opened the file on the desk, her fingers trembling.
There was a notepad inside, one filled with notes about Adrian. She was about to set it aside as useless when she spotted a particular line, marked with red.
It read
Emotional distress related to lover's pregnancy
Mira's eyes instantly watered. She shut it, digging deeper into the files. That was when she spotted it.
A pregnancy result. Positive.
She stared hard at it, till it became distorted, till her vision blurred with the tears she refused to let down.
Ivy really was pregnant. And Adrian was responsible.
She put everything back in place, leaving the office with a bigger hole in her heart and a growing anger.
She didn't shed a tear.
Not as she stepped out of the hospital and into her car.
Not as she drove home alone.
The last straw was returning to an empty house. But, instead of shedding tears, Mira raged.
Her wolf who had been silent growled lowly, matching the anger and resentment Mira felt.
She picked up her phone.
Adrian answered on the third ring.
"Mira, I'm busy-"
"She's pregnant." Mira interrupted.
The phone line went silent for a long time and Mira thought he'd ended the call till his voice surfaced again, tight.
"How did you find out?"
Mira barked a laugh, sharp and humorless.
"It really is true," she said. "Your mistress really is pregnant Adrian."
"I'm not having this conversation over the phone."
"Don't hang up on me, Adrian!" Mira warned, her voice rising. "Don't you dare."
A loud, angry growl reverberated from the other end, making the hairs on Mira's neck stand.
"Don't you dare disrespect me Mira. Watch your fucking tone."
The old Mira would've backed down, would've apologized but the new Mira, the one filled with so much rage and resentment only smiled, a cruel, slow curve.
"Why?" She questioned. "Why watch my fucking tone when I'm mated to a man who can't help but humiliate me. A man who's publicly fooling around with a damn airhead."
"You will not disrespect Ivy!"
Mira saw red.
"That's all that matters to you? Ivy?"
"She's pregnant Mira. She's going to have the child and nothing you say or do will change that."
Mira opened her mouth to respond when she heard the click of the call disconnecting.
She looked down at the phone, her entire body shaking.
He hadn't denied it.
She really was pregnant.
She brought her knees to her chest, hugging herself tightly. She still didn't cry.
She would never shed a tear for that man again.
No matter how much hurt he caused her.
Her phone lit up-a message.
'Dinner at my parents' house by 7:30 p.m. Don't be late.'
Mira stared at the message until the screen dimmed.
For the first time that day, her breathing steadied.
She straightened in the seat, wiping at her face even though there were no tears to wipe away.
Adrian thought tonight would be another performance. Another room where she would lower her head and swallow her pain.
He was wrong.
She wouldn't cry at his parents' table.
She wouldn't beg.
She wouldn't explain herself.
If he planned to parade her humiliation in front of his family-
she would make sure she wasn't the only one exposed.
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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.