
Forsaken By The Alpha: The Wolfless Mate's Revenge
For four years, I was the Silvercrest Pack's biggest joke—a scentless, wolfless Omega who somehow became the Alpha's Luna.
I thought I was just naturally defective, until our fourth anniversary, when I overheard my husband Adrian talking to his Beta.
"I’ve been having the kitchens slip a silver-based compound into her meals since the day I marked her."
He confessed the poison was meant to suppress my inner wolf and keep my womb permanently barren. He only married me as a power play to make his highborn mistress, Seraphina, jealous. While I wept over my empty cradle and apologized to his family for my broken body, he was using pack funds to buy her custom luxury goods, tossing me the leftover wrapping paper. When I finally confronted him about the silver and tried to leave, he flew into a feral rage. He violently smashed my head against the marble vanity, leaving me bleeding on the floor, and locked the bedroom door behind him.
I lay there in the cold, staring at the pool of my own blood. My entire life, my endless pain, and my unborn pups were nothing but a cruel, calculated joke to the man who was supposed to be my Mate.
But Adrian didn't know I wasn't just a brainless Omega.
I wiped the blood from my face, climbed down the balcony trellis into the freezing rain, and pulled out an encrypted burner phone.
"The cage is broken. Initiate Phase Two."
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Chapter 6
Elara POV
The morning traffic into Manhattan was a chaotic blur, but by 9:23 AM, I was sitting in the penthouse waiting room of the Manhattan Private Medical Center. This neutral territory was a sanctuary of minimalist wealth, accessible only via an exclusive keycard elevator. The air smelled faintly of clinical bleach and expensive eucalyptus diffusers, a stark contrast to the damp, blood-tinged dungeon of the Silvercrest Pack House I had left behind.
I was here for my mandatory annual physical under federal high-security protocols for DARPA. Here, I wasn't a wolfless Omega. I was Dr. Patterson.
The soft chime of the private elevator broke the quiet. Before the polished steel doors even fully parted, an aggressive, cloying scent invaded the neutral space. *Tuberose and champagne.*
My spine stiffened, but I didn't look up from the magazine in my lap until the heavy, suffocating aura of an angry Alpha swept over me.
Adrian stood there, his hand resting on the small of Seraphina's back. The tender, devoted expression he had been giving his mistress instantly froze, morphing into cold, territorial fury the second his eyes locked onto mine. He closed the distance between us in three long strides, towering over my chair.
"What the hell are you doing here, Elara?" Adrian demanded, his voice a low, dangerous rumble meant to force submission. "Did the insurance from your pathetic data entry job somehow cover the lobby fee? You don't belong in a place like this."
I calmly closed my magazine and stood up, meeting his furious gaze without a flinch. "I am here under federal high-security protocols for a mandatory physical, Adrian."
My flat, unbothered tone made his jaw clench. Before he could snap back, Seraphina glided to his side. She wrapped her arms intimately around his bicep, practically bathing him in her scent—a blatant, territorial claim.
"Who is this, Adrian?" she asked, her voice dripping with feigned innocence.
"My... wife," Adrian muttered, the word sounding like ash in his mouth.
Seraphina's eyes gleamed with malicious delight. She extended a perfectly manicured hand. I simply stared at it until she awkwardly let it drop. Her smile tightened, but she quickly recovered, stroking Adrian's arm.
"Well," Seraphina sighed, her tone dripping with condescension. "It's always good to have... Omegas... doing the foundational grunt work. It's necessary for people like us to thrive."
I said nothing. My absolute indifference seemed to unnerve her. I could see a flicker of unexplainable threat in her eyes, prompting her to dig her claws in deeper.
"Actually, my family's firm is currently consulting for a top-secret DARPA initiative," Seraphina boasted, puffing out her chest. "Project Chimera. Of course, you wouldn't understand the science. It's led by a brilliant woman, Dr. Patterson. She's a true Alpha female, standing at the top with her own mind and power, not by just being someone's mate."
Adrian let out a harsh, mocking laugh. "Don't pollute my wife's ears with that, darling. Her brain struggles to process the Pack's grocery ledgers, let alone advanced neural networks."
They looked at me with predatory anticipation, waiting for my shoulders to slump, waiting for the tears of a broken, inferior Omega.
Instead, a bizarre, almost comical sense of freedom washed over me.
"Oh? 'Consulting'?" I asked, my voice dropping to a cool, clinical register. "Then you must know their latest neural network model burned out two server nodes last week due to a severe liquid-cooling oversight?"
Seraphina's smug smile instantly paralyzed. The color drained from her cheeks, leaving her expression rigid and mechanical. She blinked, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Adrian frowned, looking between us in sudden confusion.
Before either of them could process the impossibility of my knowledge, a door down the hall opened. A nurse in crisp scrubs stepped out, holding a tablet.
"Dr. Patterson?" the nurse called out clearly.
Adrian and Seraphina didn't even turn their heads toward the nurse. They were still staring at me.
I calmly picked up my purse and stepped around them. I didn't look back, but as I brushed past Seraphina's shoulder, I murmured, "I hope your test results are exactly what you wish for."
I followed the nurse down the corridor, leaving them standing in the lobby, drowning in a sudden, suffocating sea of their own confusion.
When the heavy door of the examination room clicked shut behind me, sealing me in my spotless, sterile sanctuary, I leaned against the wood. I covered my mouth with my hand and, for the first time in four years, I laughed. It was a silent, breathless laugh born of pure, unadulterated liberation.
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7.6
Dumped by her fiancé just days before their wedding, only to watch him marry someone else-what would you do? Cry yourself to sleep, or dress to kill for revenge?
That was Elaina's reality. She's no Cinderella, yet she lost a shoe while recklessly crashing her ex's wedding. Her revenge plan went up in flames, but fate had other ideas, throwing her into the path of Alister-a man who is handsome, charismatic, and dangerous... and ironically, the person closest to her ex-fiancé.
Amidst heartbreak and vendettas, Alister paints her world in new colors, turning Elaina into a modern-day Cinderella. But will this story end in "happily ever after," or is Alister merely leading her into a much more dangerous game?

7.6
Johana walked half a mile through a brutal blizzard just to secure a tutoring job with the elite Black family.
But the very night she was hired, she received a terrifying call from the ER—her quiet roommate, Hazelle, had been drugged and severely traumatized at a Hamptons party.
When Johana rushed to the hospital, she didn't find the police. Instead, she found a team of ruthless billionaires erasing the crime.
Leading them was Dalton Black, the cold, arrogant older brother of her new student.
Within minutes, Dalton's fixers wiped the hospital's security footage, deleted all digital evidence, and forcefully transferred Hazelle to a locked private psychiatric facility.
"We are ensuring her privacy."
Dalton's voice was devoid of emotion, treating the horrific assault like a minor PR glitch.
His friends mocked Johana's powerlessness, while Dalton authorized a blank check to pay for the private ward, effectively burying the scandal and buying their silence.
Johana stood in the sterile hallway, trembling with a mix of despair and absolute rage.
How could they destroy an innocent girl's life and simply pay to make it disappear? Why was the truth so easily erased by money?
She had no wealth, no connections, and no proof, but she refused to be a victim of their cover-up.
Staring directly into Dalton's intimidating, icy blue eyes, Johana made a vow.
"I don't want your money. I will find out what you monsters did to her."
She thought the billionaire heir would crush her on the spot, but instead, he watched her walk away and quietly ordered his assistant: "Find out everything about Johana Neal."

9.3
A pitiful wolfless Omega, Lana discovers that she is pregnant for her beloved fiancée and Alpha to be, Asher. He is the only man she has ever loved, but her world turns upside down when her Fiancée coldly reveals that he is getting married to her sister who is also already pregnant for him.
To make matters worse, her cruel sister and cheating Fiancé banish her from her only home!
Lana is devastated, but thankfully, her best friend Jasper, helps her runaway and hide her pregnancy from her former fiancée.
8 years later, Lana has become the mother to Asher's triplets and is engaged to be married to her best friend Jasper.
But by a cruel twist of fate, Alpha Asher suddenly changes his mind and kidnaps her!
So what is Lana supposed to do when she forced to choose between two powerful men, while also fighting off the traitors and enemies surrounding her?

9.5
My husband told me I was a contractual obligation, an irritant he was forced to endure after a car crash stole his memory of our love five years ago. He replaced me with a social media influencer, a woman whose lies were as polished as her feed.
But when her baby was found with a small cut on her lip, she tearfully accused me of being a jealous monster who attacked an innocent child.
My husband, the man I had stood by through everything, didn't hesitate. In a blind rage, he ordered a guard to take a needle and thread and sew my lips shut.
"She needs to see nothing. Hear nothing. Say nothing," he commanded, his voice devoid of mercy.
He then had me hung upside down in the lobby of my own wellness retreat, a public spectacle for the world to condemn.
As I dangled there, bleeding and broken, I finally understood. My blind love and foolish hope had been my downfall. I had loved the wrong man, and he had utterly destroyed me.
But they made one fatal mistake. They didn't know about the hidden camera I' d planted in the baby's room. And they had no idea that my family could crush his entire empire with a single phone call.

7.4
To escape my psychopathic, controlling lover, I faked my death in a Syrian war zone.
Thirty-seven reconstructive surgeries later, the terrified girl he kept locked in a basement was gone. I returned to New York as an untouchable neurosurgeon, Dr. Alivia Clay.
I only came back to save his grandfather—the one man who helped me escape.
I thought my flawless new face was the perfect armor. But the moment Collis Duncan saw me, he cornered me against the hospital wall.
He didn't recognize my face, but he recognized my panic. He trapped me in his arms, inhaling the faint scent of vanilla and orange blossom on my skin.
"You smell exactly like a ghost I used to know," he whispered.
Worse, a traumatized, mute little boy with Collis's exact gray eyes stumbled into me in the hallway.
The boy clutched my white coat and handed me a flashcard with a crude drawing of a woman.
"Mama."
My blood turned to ice. Five years ago, I was told my newborn baby burned to ashes in that medical tent.
How could this boy be alive? Why did Collis have my son while I mourned a pile of dust?
Now, Collis is ordering a microscopic background check, desperate to tear my fake life to the ground and cage me again.
But I'm not running anymore. Once I finish this surgery, I'm taking my son back.

8.7
For three years, I played the perfect, invisible contract wife to Angel Wilcox.
But last night, after being drugged at a club, he lost control and brutally took my innocence in a freezing bathtub.
The next morning, instead of an apology, he threw a million-dollar settlement at me and slapped the divorce papers on the table.
His first love, Hillary, had returned from Paris, and he needed to clear the way for her.
He called what he did to me a mere inconvenience.
When I refused to sign the papers—because my brother would be killed by loan sharks without the Wilcox name to protect him—Angel lost his temper.
In the lobby, right in front of a mocking Hillary, he violently shoved me.
My head slammed against a massive marble pillar with a sickening thud.
"Don't play games with me! Sign the damn papers!"
He roared, trying to force the pen into my hand while I lay crumpled on the cold floor.
My body was burning with a severe infection from his assault, my wrists were bruised, and my heart was shattered.
How could the man I secretly loved for three years treat me like disposable garbage the second she came back?
I looked at his furious eyes, then slowly raised my trembling hands to cover my right ear.
The same ear that was severely injured in a car crash he caused three years ago.
"My ear is ringing. I can't hear you."
If he wanted to be ruthless, I would use his deepest guilt to trap him in this marriage forever.