From Rejected Maid to the Lycan King's Queen
The clerk at the Registry couldn't look me in the eye when she turned the screen around.
My status didn't say "Luna" anymore. It said "Rogue."
My mate, Alpha Jackson, had secretly replaced me on the official paperwork three years ago with his mistress, Candida.
When I returned to the Pack House, Jackson didn't just bring Candida home; he brought a five-year-old boy he claimed was an orphan.
"This is Joey," he announced, his eyes cold and glazed over. "Since you are barren, he will be the future Alpha."
I tried to accept my fate as a servant in my own home, but they wanted me dead.
The boy, looking like an angel, brought me a bowl of soup.
"For you, Mama," he smiled.
But as I reached for it, he splashed the scalding liquid over my hands.
It wasn't just hot soup. It was laced with concentrated Wolfsbane.
As my skin sizzled and peeled, the boy threw himself on the floor, screaming that I had attacked him.
Jackson didn't check my burns. He didn't listen to my pleas.
"Submit!" he roared, using the Alpha Command to force me to my knees.
He made me apologize to the child who had just poisoned me.
That night, listening to Jackson mate with Candida in the room next to mine, the bond finally snapped.
They wanted the Luna gone? Fine.
I dialed a number I hadn't used in years.
"Hamilton," I whispered to the Lycan King. "I need a plane. And I need it to crash."
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Chapter 2
Elena POV:
I will arrange everything, Hamilton's voice echoed in my mind through the Mind-Link. Just say the word.
Soon, I replied.
The front door slammed open. Jackson walked in.
The scent hit me first. Rotten peaches and cloying sugar. Candida's scent. It was suffocating the fresh pine smell that used to be Jackson.
He saw me in the hallway. For a second, his eyes flashed with confusion, as if trying to remember who I was, but then a dark film slid over his irises.
"Elena," he said, void of warmth. "Good. You are here."
Behind him, Candida stepped in, holding the hand of a boy who looked about five. Joey.
"This is Candida," Jackson announced, as if he hadn't been sleeping with her for three years. "And this is Joey. I found him... on the battlefield. An orphan."
Liar. The lie was so blatant it felt practiced.
"And since you cannot provide the pack with an heir," Jackson continued, eyes drilling into my stomach, "I have decided to adopt him. He will be the future Alpha."
"Hello, Mama," Joey said. He looked like an angel, but when he tilted his head up, his eyes were dead flat. Grey smoke with no light behind them.
"I am not your mother," I said quietly.
"Elena!" Jackson growled. "Be kind to the boy."
"I am feeling unwell," I said, clutching my side. Being near Candida made my skin prickle, like standing next to a high-voltage wire. "I need to go to my room."
An hour later, there was a knock. Joey entered, holding a bowl of steaming meat soup.
"Daddy said you were sick," the boy said, voice sickeningly sweet. "I brought you soup."
He walked over. My inner wolf growled. Danger.
"Put it on the table."
"Here, take it," Joey insisted. He thrust the bowl toward me.
I reached out. The moment my fingers brushed the ceramic, Joey let go. He shoved it downward.
The hot liquid splashed over my hands.
"Ah!" I gasped.
The pain was immediate and excruciating. It sizzled. Smoke rose from my skin. Wolfsbane.
"Help! Daddy! Help!" Joey screamed, throwing himself onto the floor, wailing. "She burned me! She tried to throw it at me!"
My hands were blistering, skin peeling away in red strips.
The door burst open. Jackson and Candida rushed in. Jackson saw the boy on the floor, then looked at me. His irises flooded with a glowing, angry red.
"You monster," Jackson snarled.
"Jackson, look at my hands," I pleaded, holding them up. The flesh was bubbling. "It has poison in it."
"Don't lie to me!" Jackson roared. "You are jealous because you are broken!"
Candida stood behind him. She looked at my ruined hands, and the corner of her mouth twitched upward.
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8.0
I removed an intern from an award nomination for stealing my dead sister's research. My husband, Craig, was furious. He chose to defend her, not me.
His rage turned violent. He destroyed my life's work-a cure for Alzheimer's-then shoved me so hard I miscarried our child.
He called me "dramatic" as I bled on the floor.
Then he locked me in our home, a prisoner, forcing me to sign over my patents to his mistress, the woman who drove my sister to suicide. He thought he had broken me, that I was his to control.
But when he tried to humiliate me in the most depraved way imaginable, I saw my chance. I threw myself from a second-story window.
As I lay broken on the ground, watching him rush to his mistress's side, I made a vow. My revenge was just beginning.
8.8
She's the coach's daughter. He's the captain. Together, they're breaking every rule."
Ava Reynolds has one rule-never let her life be defined by basketball. As the coach's daughter, she's spent years dodging whispers and expectations, determined to make her own mark through journalism. But when her editor forces her to cover the university's star team, Ava finds herself colliding with Ethan Cole-cocky, brilliant on the court, and infuriatingly impossible to ignore.
Ethan lives for basketball. It's his ticket out, his shot at protecting the only family he has left-his younger brother. The last thing he needs is a sharp-tongued reporter questioning his every move, especially when she sees more than he wants anyone to.
What starts as a battle of words spirals into undeniable chemistry, leaving Ava torn between loyalty to her father and the pull of a boy who breaks every rule she set for herself.
But when a secret threatens to ruin them both...will crossing the line cost them everything?
7.7
For two years, I played the role of the "Midwestern mistake," the mousey wife Julian Ford-Sterling IV kept hidden like a shameful secret. I hid my true self behind thick glasses and ashen foundation, acting as the perfect, cowed charity case while he lived a life of marble and indifference.
The day our marriage contract ended, the headlines were already screaming about his affair with Hollywood’s sweetheart, Lana Vane. Julian didn't even grant me a final conversation; he simply sent his legal team to hand me divorce papers that gave me nothing—no alimony, no shares, just a non-disclosure agreement and a one-way ticket out of his life.
I signed the papers and walked away, but a drugged encounter in a dark club that same night led me back into his arms. We collided in the shadows, two strangers stripped of their titles, but I fled before dawn, accidentally leaving behind my vintage silver locket. By the time I reached my secret design studio the next morning, I discovered Julian had executed a hostile takeover of my entire life’s work.
To my horror, Lana Vane was already there, clutching my stolen locket and shamelessly claiming she was the woman Julian had spent the night with. Julian stood before me in his charcoal suit, looking at me with total lack of recognition. To him, I was just a "gold-digging" architect he had bought along with the furniture.
I watched them together, the man who had discarded me and the woman who had stolen my identity, realizing that Julian was obsessed with the genius of "Rose" while despising the woman who stood right in front of him. He had no idea that the wife he’d just divorced was the very person he was now desperate to control.
I straightened my spine, my violet-blue eyes cold and lethal behind my new designer frames.
"Mr. Ford-Sterling, you wanted the best designer in the city? You’ve got her. But you should know—I don't just build empires. I know exactly how to tear them down."
8.3
Note: There are two books in this series
Book 1: Daphne and Theo
Book 2: Aurora and Andrea
"I didn't rescue you out of mercy, Daphne. I took you because you're mine."
Daphne is a survivor. After her pack was slaughtered, she lived as a rogue, eventually becoming a stripper to pay off a dead man's debts. But her life shatters when she discovers her mates are the two most powerful men in the Moonstone Pack-and they don't want her heart. They want her womb.
Used, abused, and forced to carry a child for a man she hates, Daphne thinks she has hit rock bottom when a tragic betrayal steals her baby and her freedom.
Then comes Theo.
He is the ruthless Alpha of the Silver Pack, a man who wears a mask to hide his "demon" eyes and a heart turned to ice. He saves her from the wreckage, but his touch sparks a fire that shouldn't exist. He is her mate. He is her protector.
And he is her stepbrother.
In a world where the weak are discarded, Daphne must train in secret to prove she is worthy of the Silver Pack. But as the ghosts of their shared past return and war looms on the horizon, Daphne realizes the biggest danger isn't the Alpha who wants her body back... it's the one she was never meant to love.
He's her family. He's her King. And he will burn the world to keep her.
~~~~~~~~
Book 2: Claimed By The Cursed Lycan King
Aurora is the Moonvale Pack's greatest shame...a slave who shifted into a rare white wolf only to find her mate is the man who hates her most. Alpha Luca doesn't want a "weak" mate. To get rid of her, he gifts her to the Lycan King, Andrea...a man cursed by the moon and famous for his bloodlust.
Luca expected her to die. Instead, Andrea found something in Aurora's scent that silenced his inner beast.
Now, the girl who was once a broken slave is returning to Moonvale. She isn't looking for an apology, and she isn't looking for love. Backed by the King who was supposed to kill her, she is coming to reclaim her mother and burn Luca's empire to the ground.
9.2
For five years, I hid my identity as a legendary White Wolf, swallowing suppressants that tasted like ash just to protect Alpha Grafton.
I played the role of the spineless "Shadow," enduring his pack's ridicule and his cold indifference, all to fulfill a promise I made to his dead twin brother.
But when I finally exposed my powers to save Grafton from a rigged car crash, shattering my leg with liquid silver in the process, he didn't thank me.
Instead, he stepped over my bleeding body to comfort Cherrelle, a socialite who was faking a wrist injury.
He believed her lies over my sacrifice.
When I tried to warn him about the poison in his drink, he forced me to swallow the Wolfsbane myself.
He watched me convulse on the floor, calling me a "drama queen."
He even threw me into a dog kennel, crushing the only photo I had of his brother—the man I actually loved—under his boot.
He thought I was a stalker obsessed with him.
He didn't know I drank black coffee I hated every morning just to be in sync with him, or that the "jealousy" he saw was actually grief for the ghost of his twin.
Broken and done, I stood on the edge of Blackwood Bridge and sent him one final text.
"I'm going to be with the man I actually love."
Then, I rejected him as my mate, severed the bond that linked our souls, and let the dark river wash away five years of lies.
9.7
I was sitting in a Starbucks, staring at a cold Americano, while the girl I thought was the love of my life looked at me with pure disgust.
Hailee Baxter slammed her latte down and told me we were done, claiming she couldn’t start her career at City Hall with a "diner kid" dragging her down.
She wasn't just breaking my heart; she was trading me in for Kyler Craft, the son of a powerful politician who could buy her the future she craved. In my past life, this was the moment I shattered, beginning a twenty-year spiral into alcoholism, poverty, and watching my parents work themselves into an early grave while I failed at everything. I vividly remembered the smell of cheap whiskey and the obituary of my father that I was too broke to even attend.
But as I looked down at my hands, they weren't the calloused, shaking hands of a forty-year-old failure; they were smooth, young, and steady. The silver Motorola flip phone in my pocket felt like a relic from a museum, and the girl in front of me looked like a shallow stranger rather than the woman of my dreams.
The crushing pain in my chest wasn't a heart attack—it was forty years of bitter regret colliding with a twenty-two-year-old body. Hailee was waiting for me to beg for another chance, her napkin ready to wipe away the pathetic tears she expected, but all I felt was a cold, clinical clarity.
How could I have been so blind to her greed, and why did I let one failed exam and a rich boy’s bullying destroy my entire family’s legacy?
I glanced at the newspaper on the table: May 12, 2005. This was the day I supposedly lost the City Hall fellowship, but I remembered a secret about the "Supplemental Candidate Protocol" that no one else would know for another week. I stood up, ignored Hailee's insults, and dialed the number etched into my soul.
"Mom," I whispered into the flip phone, "I'm coming home. And this time, I’m going to take back everything we lost."