Forsaken for a Fake: The True Luna's Revenge

My husband, Alpha Kaeden, once looked at me with adoration. But after he brought Clemmie home, his eyes turned cold, glazed over by the "herbal tea" she fed him. Now, I lay chained to a steel table in the dungeon, the smell of my own burning flesh filling the air. Kaeden stood over me, indifferent to my screams. He ordered the guards to electrocute me through silver cuffs—the poison of our kind—even though he knew I was carrying his pup. But torture wasn't the end goal. I froze when I heard the doctor’s question. "The transplant carries risks, Alpha. Taking a heart from a living donor..." Clemmie didn't just want my husband; she wanted my heart to cure her "sickness" and steal my White Wolf power. I waited for Kaeden to refuse. Instead, he rubbed his temples and delivered my death sentence. "Harvest the heart. Dispose of the rest." "And the fetus?" the doctor asked. "Incinerate it." Those words killed me faster than the silver. I died on the operating table that night, my heart flatlining for three minutes to stage my death. Kaeden thinks I am ash in a jar. He thinks he saved his mistress. But when I opened my eyes in the safe house, they weren't brown anymore. They were glowing silver. Beside me, my daughter slept, alive and radiating ancient power. The weak Luna is dead. The White Wolf has risen. And I am going home to take back my pack.

Chapters

Chapter 3

POV: Alois

I hacked the electronic lock on the dungeon door in fourteen seconds.

As a former Gamma-the tactician and strategist of the pack-I knew the security protocols better than the Alpha himself. I had been demoted to the IT department because Clemmie didn't like the way I looked at her.

She was right to be suspicious. I knew a snake when I saw one.

The door hissed open. I sprayed a cloud of "Scent Mask" aerosol over myself. It smelled like chemically synthesized mud and ozone, designed to hide a wolf's natural odor from other predators.

I stepped inside and nearly retched.

The smell of blood was overwhelming.

"Luna," I whispered.

Daria lay on the table. She looked like a broken doll. Her skin was pale, almost translucent, contrasting with the dark red stains soaking the metal beneath her.

I rushed forward, pulling a lockpick from my pocket. My hands shook. Not from fear, but from rage.

I remembered two years ago. I was dying from a Rogue bite that had gone septic. The healers had given up. Daria had come to the infirmary. She sat by my bed for three nights, wiping my fevered brow. She even gave me her own blood for a transfusion when the supplies ran low.

Her blood had burned like fire in my veins, but it healed me in hours.

I owed her my life.

"Alois?" Her voice was a cracked whisper. Her eyes fluttered open. They were glazed with pain.

"I've got you," I said, working the pick into the silver cuffs. "Hold on."

Click.

The cuff sprang open. I freed her hands and feet. The burns on her wrists were deep, the flesh raw and angry.

I scooped her up into my arms. She weighed nothing. It felt like carrying a ghost.

"Leave me," she murmured, her head lolling against my chest. "He will kill you."

"Let him try," I growled.

I carried her out of the cell, moving silently through the corridors. The pack house was quiet. Most of the warriors were at the border, distracted by a fake Rogue sighting I had generated in the system ten minutes ago.

We reached the underground garage. My modified SUV was waiting, the engine idling silently.

I opened the back door and laid Daria gently on the seat. She was shivering violently. Shock was setting in.

"Stay with me, Daria," I said. "We're almost out."

I jumped into the driver's seat and gunned the engine. The tires squealed on the concrete as we shot toward the exit ramp.

Suddenly, a figure stepped out from the shadows, blocking the exit.

It was Marcus, the Beta. The Alpha's second-in-command.

He stood with his arms crossed, his massive frame filling the lane. His nose twitched.

He couldn't smell Daria because of the blood loss and the silver in her system suppressing her wolf. He couldn't smell me because of the masking spray.

But he could smell the fear.

I slammed on the brakes, the car skidding to a halt inches from his knees.

Marcus walked to the driver's side window. He tapped on the glass.

My heart hammered against my ribs. If I shifted now, I would destroy the car and kill Daria. I had to bluff.

I rolled the window down two inches.

"In a hurry, IT boy?" Marcus asked, his eyes scanning the dark interior of the car.

"Server crash at the downtown office," I lied, keeping my voice steady. "Alpha Kaeden will skin me alive if the financial data is lost."

Marcus sniffed the air again. He frowned. "I smell... ozone. And something metallic."

"Cleaning supplies," I said. "Spilled some in the back."

Marcus leaned closer, his eyes narrowing. He looked at the backseat. Daria was covered by a blanket I had thrown over her, but a stray hand was visible.

"What's under the blanket?" Marcus asked, his voice dropping an octave.

I gripped the steering wheel, my knuckles turning white.

"Marcus," I said, dropping the act. "Look at me."

Marcus met my eyes. He saw the desperation there.

"You know what's happening upstairs," I whispered. "You know it's wrong. You have a daughter, Marcus. Would you let Kaeden carve her up for that witch?"

Marcus stiffened. His gaze flicked to the blanket, then back to the gate controls. He had always been loyal, but he wasn't blind. He hated Clemmie as much as I did.

He reached for the door handle, hesitated, and then pulled his hand back.

Continue to next part

After years of marriage, Adrian Foster still only spoke to me in bed. The moment he got out of it, the warmth vanished, replaced by cold indifference. I, Nora Bennett, had endured it all in silence, hoping that if I stayed obedient, he might show our daughter, Nina Foster, a little more care. Yet in his eyes, Sophia Graham was his one and only-the woman he put on a pedestal, shielding and indulging her at every turn. For her child, he had even taken my daughter's bone marrow. In that moment, I finally understood. I was nothing more than a pawn in his battle with the woman he truly loved. So I stopped holding on. I took my daughter and left without hesitation.

Action Mystery Romance

7.2

After Rebirth, I Ruined Them All

7.2

Betrayed by her sister. Killed by her husband. Reborn, Sarah returns with one goal-revenge. This time, she won't be the fool. And with the Knox, the most dangerous man by her side... she'll ruin them all, and take back everything that belongs to her. Promotional line: They killed me once. This time, I'll destroy them first.

Action Modern Romance

8.4

Between Ruin And Revenge: Her Regret

8.4

I worked three double shifts at the garage just to buy a velvet-boxed cake for my wealthy girlfriend, Arleen. But when I pushed open the VIP room door, I saw her lover kissing her bare leg. She didn't push him away. Instead, she laughed and swirled her martini. "I only forgot Finn because I knew he would stay. He is a poor boy from Queens who follows me around like a loyal dog." Later that night, her lover intentionally crashed a Porsche to scare me, sending a piece of jagged metal into my skull. Lying in a growing pool of my own blood, I watched Arleen crawl out of the wreckage. She didn't even look at me. She threw herself at her uninjured lover, screaming for a medic. "He just got scraped by a piece of plastic. He is faking it. Deal with Jaquez first!" When I woke up, I wasn't free. Arleen had locked me in a private hospital wing with 24-hour security, planning to isolate me and keep me as her broken, captive toy forever. My blind, pathetic devotion finally froze into absolute disgust. I looked at the heart monitor next to my bed and grabbed an IV needle. I severed the sensor wire to trigger a flatline, slipped out the fire stairs while the nurses panicked, and burned my identity to ashes. This time, I was going to disappear to London, build my own empire, and watch hers burn.

Action Modern Romance

9.6

Claimed By My Fiancé's Ruthless Uncle

9.6

I spent our third anniversary alone in our penthouse, adjusting a white rose and waiting for a man who didn't want to come home. When my fiancé, Chris Osborne, finally arrived, he didn't notice the 1982 Lafite or the dinner I’d prepared. He looked at me with disgust, calling my desire for a wedding date "pressure" before storming out to a private club. I followed him, hiding behind a marble pillar at The Vault as I recorded his voice on my phone. He was laughing with his friends about a $20 million bet. He called me a "boring ice queen" and a "marble statue," explaining that he only needed to keep me around until the merger closed so he could steal my shares and "cut me loose." To make it worse, my own father was in on it, prioritizing his stock price over his daughter's life. Broken and barefoot in a torrential Manhattan downpour, I sought refuge at the Four Seasons. I collapsed into the arms of a tall, dangerous-looking stranger and begged him to take me upstairs. I wanted to be erased, to forget the transaction my life had become. After a night of salt and desperation, I left my engagement ring on his nightstand as payment for services rendered and fled. The next morning, I realized I had jumped from the frying pan into the furnace. My "stranger" wasn't a nobody. He was Gallagher Osborne—the ruthless patriarch of the family and my fiancé’s uncle. He tracked me to a private clinic, trapping me in a room while holding my medical file and the ring I’d discarded. He told me I was his now, and that he’d dismantle Chris piece by piece if I didn't comply. I was a piece of currency to my father, a bet to my fiancé, and a prize to his uncle. I had no allies, no escape, and no mercy left. I realized that being the "perfect daughter" had only made me a target. If they wanted to play games with the "Ice Queen," I decided to give them a frostbite they would never forget. I trashed my art gallery, backdated a diagnosis for a psychotic break, and sent a cryptic suicide note to Chris. As Gallagher watched from the shadows and Chris panicked over his investment, I began the process of scorching the earth. The merger was still happening, but I wasn't the bride anymore—I was the wrecking ball.

Action Modern Romance

7.4

Married To The Wolf: My Ruthless Revenge

7.4

My fiancé Javen sent me to a yacht in the middle of a New York storm to finalize a high-stakes merger with Alfonse Wolfe, a billionaire rumored to have ice water in his veins. I did it for "us," shivering in a soaked evening gown and cutting my hand on broken glass just to get the signature that would save Javen’s company. But when I rushed back to the Doyle estate, the manor was blazing with lights for an unannounced engagement party. Javen wasn't waiting for me with open arms; he was standing on the dance floor with Blossom Vega, the daughter of his biggest competitor, announcing their union to the elite of New York. When I stepped forward, dripping blood and water onto the marble floor, Javen didn't try to protect me. He looked at me with pure disgust and told the gathered press that I was a "charity case" suffering from mental delusions. His mother laughed while calling me a cockroach, and his father claimed my family’s lost fortune was a hallucination. To ensure my silence, Javen leaned in and whispered that he would pull the plug on my disabled brother’s life-saving medical care if I didn't disappear. I was hauled away by security and locked in a dark storage room like a stain on his perfect evening. I lay there in the dust, unable to process how twelve years of love could be a calculated lie. How could the man I was supposed to marry use my brother’s breath as a bargaining chip after I had just sacrificed everything to save him? I escaped through a second-story window and went straight to the only predator powerful enough to tear the Doyles apart: Alfonse Wolfe. I didn't just ask for sanctuary; I demanded a marriage license to unlock my mother’s secret trust and protect my brother. Standing in a high-security vault as the new Mrs. Wolfe, I discovered a truth that changed the game. I didn’t just have the money to ruin Javen; the deed in my hand proved I now owned the very land beneath Alfonse’s mansion. "I’m not the prey anymore," I whispered, watching the Doyle stock plummet on my phone. "I'm the hunter."

Action Modern Romance

8.4

Taming The Mafia Man.

8.4

Elena’s life takes a dangerous turn when she is thrust into the dark world of the criminal underworld. Forced into a high-stakes deal with a ruthless mafia heir, she must navigate a landscape of violence and betrayal. As she attempts to exert control over a man who knows no limits, their volatile connection sparks an intense, perilous romance. Amidst deadly power struggles, Elena fights to survive while taming the beast she was forced to love.

Action Mafia Romance

Forsaken for a Fake: The True Luna's Revenge

Chapter 3

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