FROZEN BONDS: THE HALF-BLOOD'S MATE
She was sold as a broodmare. He was a warrior with no memory. Together, they'll burn down the world.
Lyra has been called many things: half-blood, mongrel, dirty blood. Rejected by every pack she's approached, she's given one final chance-as a bride to Ronan, the cruel Alpha of Red River Pack. But when her wedding night becomes a nightmare, she stabs her new husband and flees into the frozen wilderness.
Stellan remembers nothing. Not his name, not his past, not the ancient tattoos covering his body. He only knows that when he sees a terrified woman falling from a cliff into an icy river, he must save her-even if it kills him.
On the run from a vengeful Alpha and his army of hunters, Lyra and Stellan discover an impossible bond growing between them. The moon has chosen them as mates. But Stellan's memories are returning, and with them, a devastating truth: he's not just any wolf. He's the Alpha of the North Star Pack. And a half-blood can never be his Luna.
Now Ronan's brother has sworn revenge, an ancient prophecy awakens, and three packs prepare for war. Lyra must prove that bloodlines mean nothing-and that the most powerful bond of all is forged in ice and fire.
He lost his memory. She lost her freedom. Together, they'll find everything.
Chapters
Share
Chapter 3
The invisible chain tightened around my heart, and I gasped.
Ronan's golden eyes gleamed with satisfaction. He released my bleeding hand and raised both arms to the crowd, his own blood still dripping from his palm. The pack howled their approval, their voices merging into a single primal scream that shook the very air.
I remained on my knees, staring at my hand. The cut wasn't deep-a ceremonial wound, meant to symbolize unity-but it burned like fire. Or maybe that was the bond. Maybe that was the chain wrapping itself around my soul, anchoring me to this monster.
"Rise, Luna," Ronan commanded.
I rose on unsteady legs, and he pulled me against him, his bloody hand gripping my waist. The crowd cheered louder. I wanted to shove him away. I wanted to run. But Maeve's words echoed in my mind: Not yet.
So I stood there, frozen, while the pack celebrated my capture.
The drums started again, faster this time, and the crowd began to dance-if you could call it that. Wolves in human form moved with an animalistic grace, their bodies twisting and turning around the ceremonial fire. The flames leaped higher, fed by some oil or spell, and the night seemed to pulse with primal energy.
Ronan leaned down, his lips brushing my ear. "The blood pact isn't complete. There's more."
More. Of course there was more.
He led me to the center of the clearing where a large stone basin sat on a pedestal. The basin was ancient-carved with symbols I didn't recognize, stained dark with centuries of blood. Pack blood. Luna blood. Victim blood.
"The bowl of unity," Ronan explained, his voice carrying to the crowd. "Every member of Red River has bled into this bowl. Their blood mingles here, binding us together as one pack, one family, one unstoppable force."
He gestured, and pack members began approaching the bowl. One by one, they cut their palms and let their blood drip into the stone basin. Young and old, male and female, they came and bled and stepped back, their eyes glowing with fervor.
"Your turn will come," Ronan said. "But first-the Alpha's right."
He produced the ceremonial dagger again-the same one he'd used on the altar. It gleamed in the firelight, ancient and hungry.
"In some packs," he said conversationally, "the Alpha and Luna cut together. Equal wounds. Equal sacrifice." He stepped closer. "But Red River is not 'some packs.' Here, the Alpha takes what is his."
Before I could react, he grabbed my left wrist and flipped my arm over. The dagger moved so fast I didn't see it-only felt it. Fire exploded along my inner forearm as the blade sliced deep.
I cried out-I couldn't help it. The cut was nothing like the ceremonial wound on my palm. This was deliberate. Cruel. Deep.
Blood poured from the wound, running down my arm in rivulets, dripping onto the ground. Ronan held my wrist over the bowl, and I watched my blood-my half-blood, dirty blood-fall into the basin where it mingled with the rest.
"Now you're really mine," he whispered, his lips brushing my ear. "My property. My possession. My thing."
My thing.
Something inside me snapped.
Deep in my chest, where my wolf had always cowered and hid, a fire ignited. Not the warm fire of comfort or the bright fire of joy. This was a cold fire. An angry fire. A fire that had been smoldering for years, fed by every rejection, every whisper of "half-blood" and "dirty blood" and "mongrel."
My wolf raised her head.
For the first time in my life, she didn't cower. She didn't hide. She looked through my eyes at the monster holding my bleeding arm, and she snarled.
Kill him, she whispered. Tear out his throat. Bathe in his blood.
I felt my eyes begin to glow-that telltale sign of the wolf rising. My canines lengthened slightly, pressing against my lips. My fingers twitched, claws threatening to emerge.
Ronan felt it. His grip on my wrist tightened, and he looked at me with sudden interest-not fear, never fear, but something like curiosity.
"Ah," he breathed. "There she is. The half-blood wolf. The mongrel beast." He smiled, and it was the cruelest smile I'd ever seen. "I wondered when you'd show yourself."
I tried to pull away, but his grip was iron. The wound on my arm screamed in protest, and fresh blood spilled into the bowl.
"Don't," he warned softly. "Don't shift. Don't fight. Don't even think about it." He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper only I could hear. "Because if you shift now, if you attack me in front of my pack, I'll have no choice but to put you down. And I'd rather not kill my new mare before I've bred her."
The words hit me like ice water.
I thought of Maeve, watching from the crowd. I thought of Elara, the frightened girl who had braided my hair. I thought of everyone who might have helped me, everyone who might pay the price if I failed.
My wolf snarled again, furious at my cowardice. But I pushed her down. I forced my eyes to stop glowing. I retracted my claws and canines.
Ronan watched the transformation with something like disappointment. "Pity," he murmured. "I would have enjoyed the fight."
He released my wrist, and I stumbled back, clutching my bleeding arm. The wound was deep-much deeper than necessary-and blood continued to flow between my fingers.
One of the pack women rushed forward with bandages, but Ronan waved her away. "No," he said. "Let it bleed. Let everyone see what happens to those who think they can challenge me."
I stood there, bleeding into the dirt, while the pack watched. Some looked away. Others stared openly, their expressions a mix of fear and fascination. A few-a very few-looked at me with something that might have been pity.
Or maybe I imagined that. Maybe I just wanted to believe someone cared.
The ceremony continued. Pack members kept approaching the bowl, kept bleeding into the basin where my blood now mixed with theirs. The bowl filled slowly, the dark liquid rising inch by inch. And all the while, I stood there bleeding, my arm burning, my wolf pacing restlessly beneath my skin.
Let me out, she growled. Let me fight. Let me kill.
Not yet, I told her. Soon. But not yet.
Finally, when the last pack member had bled, Ronan approached the bowl again. He dipped his fingers into the blood-my blood, mixed with theirs-and turned to face me.
"The final step," he announced. "The mark of unity."
He stepped forward and pressed his bloody fingers to my forehead. The blood was warm, almost hot, and I felt something strange-a pull, a connection, a thousand invisible threads linking me to every wolf in the pack.
"The pack accepts you," Ronan intoned. "Their blood recognizes yours. You are one of us now."
No, my wolf snarled. We are not one of them. We will never be one of them.
But the threads were real. I could feel them-tugging at my heart, my soul, my very essence. Every wolf in the pack was connected to me now, and I to them. It was suffocating. Terrifying. Permanent.
Ronan saw the horror in my eyes and smiled. "Feel that?" he murmured. "That's belonging. That's family. That's mine."
He turned to the crowd and raised his arms. "The blood pact is complete! Red River has a Luna!"
The pack erupted into howls and cheers, and I stood in their midst with blood on my forehead and a wound on my arm and a wolf inside me screaming for vengeance.
As the celebration swirled around me, I caught sight of Maeve again. She stood at the edge of the crowd, her green eyes fixed on me, and this time she didn't mouth words. She simply nodded-a small, almost imperceptible movement-and touched her own wrist where a scar marked her skin.
An old wound. A ritual wound. She had been through this too. She understood.
And she was telling me something: You're not alone.
Ronan grabbed my hand-my injured one, making me gasp with pain-and pulled me toward the center of the celebration. "Now we feast!" he bellowed. "Tonight, we celebrate! Tomorrow, my Luna learns her true duties!"
The crowd laughed-a knowing, ugly laugh-and I felt sick.
Tables had been set up around the clearing, laden with food and drink. Wolves grabbed meat and ale, laughing and shoving and celebrating their Alpha's new possession. Ronan pulled me onto a raised platform where we could see-and be seen by-everyone.
"Sit," he commanded, pushing me onto a fur-covered seat. "Eat. Drink. Smile."
I couldn't eat. I couldn't drink. But I sat there, bleeding and broken, while the pack celebrated my imprisonment.
Hours passed. The moon rose high overhead, fat and full, and the celebration grew wilder. Wolves shifted and ran through the forest, their howls echoing in the night. Others paired off, disappearing into the shadows for more private celebrations.
Ronan watched it all with satisfaction, his hand never leaving my body-my shoulder, my arm, my thigh. Always touching. Always claiming.
Finally, when the fire burned low and most of the pack had stumbled off to their dens, Ronan stood and pulled me to my feet.
"Time for the final ritual," he said, and there was no mistaking the hunger in his voice now.
He led me away from the clearing, away from the dying fire, toward his den. My den now. Our den.
The word made me want to vomit.
As we walked, I saw Maeve one last time. She stood in the shadows near the tree line, watching. Waiting. As I passed, she raised her hand to her wrist-the scarred one-and then pointed toward the forest.
Run.
But how could I run? The bond pulled at me, the pack threads tugged at my soul, and Ronan's grip on my arm was iron.
Not yet, I told my wolf. Soon. But not yet.
We reached the den. Ronan pushed open the door and pulled me inside.
You may also like
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.
9.5
He was born from the void between stars - a being of immense power, forged from cosmic origins.
For thousands of years, he walked among humanity, protecting them and keeping his true strength hidden. After losing the only family he had, grief led him to seek his own end... only to wake up in a world entirely unlike his own.
Here, cultivation is the main path to power. Those who master spirit qi gain superhuman strength, speed, and abilities that place them far above ordinary people. Four great sects rule the land, competing for resources, secrets, and dominance over each other.
Icaros joined the Li Sect, where he found companions he came to trust and care for: the capable and easygoing Li Han, the sharp and composed Su Yan, and the spirited Nelly. For a time, he felt he had found a place to belong, even as he kept his true nature hidden and wondered whether he could ever learn to cultivate like those around him.
Everything changed when their voyage was suddenly attacked. A powerful figure floating in the sky cut their ship apart with sharp, devastating energy strikes, leaving only destruction in his wake. Believing his friends had been lost in the disaster, Icaros chose to stop holding back any longer.
> "I am done hiding!"
He unleashed his full power: golden light blazed from his eyes, he flew at incredible speed, and he broke through every barrier and enemy in his way. On the shores ahead, he tore through hordes of powerful jade monsters, destroying them completely before flying deep into the interior of the island.
Meanwhile, survivors washed up scattered and alone. One young cultivator found himself on the shores of Jade Island - a place most cultivators avoid, as it holds no treasures or useful materials, only danger and endless deposits of ordinary jade. Yet despite the risks, ordinary people have built settlements here, finding safety from the conflicts and power struggles of the outside world.
This island works by different rules. Spirit qi is scarce and unstable, making cultivation far less effective than elsewhere. Instead, the people here rely on advanced technology - weapons and explosives that can injure or even defeat those with great physical strength. Here, skill and preparation can be just as powerful as raw strength, and even the strongest cultivators must move with caution.
Now, Icaros has vanished deep into the island. His companions are lost somewhere across this dangerous land. And the mysterious swordsman who destroyed their ship has already arrived here, searching for an ancient map said to lead to the legacy of a being from another world.
Will they find each other again? And can anyone survive in a place where the usual rules of power no longer hold true?
✅ Chapters 1–19: FREE
🔒 Chapters 20 onwards: PAID
(Continue the journey of power, friendship, and discovery!)
7.5
I was Nyx, a top-tier covert operative. But when I opened my eyes, I was trapped in the unfamiliar, overweight body of a bullied girl named Eliza.
Before I could even process the body swap, the bedroom door splintered open. I was in bed with Julian Malone, a wealthy military heir, both of us heavily drugged. Cameras flashed wildly. It was a vicious setup to ruin his career, and I was the bait.
To save his family's reputation, Julian was forced to marry me. But the moment the wedding was over, he abandoned me. His elite family treated me like a disease. His mother froze my only bank account, trying to starve me into submission.
I even intercepted a private conversation between his parents.
"Once she's in a private facility, she loses all legal standing. We can sign anything we want on her behalf."
They planned to lock me up in a mental asylum and erase my existence entirely to get rid of the "trailer park trash."
To them, I was just a weak, pathetic pawn they could crush without a second thought. They thought they had backed a helpless girl into a corner.
They had no idea they had just declared war on a lethal weapon.
I didn't cry or beg. Instead, I bypassed their state-of-the-art security, cracked their safe, and stole the financial secrets that could destroy their entire empire.
"I want five hundred thousand dollars, or these files go to the IRS."
This time, I was playing by my own rules.
9.7
Agent Alivia Sanford opened her eyes to the suffocating stench of wild animal musk and raw sex.
She hadn't just transmigrated into a savage beastman world; she had woken up in the body of a 300-pound, diseased, and universally despised woman. Worse, the original owner had just drugged the tribe's strongest warrior, trying to force a mating.
Now, the warrior pinned her to the cave floor with murderous fury.
"You think you can trap me, you disgusting pig?" he snarled, ready to rip her throat out.
After kneeing him and escaping, a "Super Charm AI" bound to her mind demanded she conquer her five designated mates to survive. But these men treated her like a walking plague. They mocked her bloated face, threw bloody raw meat into the mud for her to eat, and publicly announced they would starve her to death. Even her own family looked at her with utter disgust.
In her past life, she was a legendary survivor who could have crushed these arrogant men with her bare hands. Now, she was trapped in a weak shell, threatened with soul erasure by a system if she didn't grovel for their affection. Why should she beg for love from beasts who wanted her dead?
Looking at the five "-100" hostility scores on her system panel, Alivia coldly drew a mental cross over each of their faces. Enduring agonizing pain, she forced her bio-manipulation ability to violently purge the toxins from her fat body. She wasn't going to play their twisted game; she was going to find her own resources and make them pay.
9.1
The heavy oak doors of the Crane estate splintered under the battering ram. Annetta was just putting her five-year-old daughter to sleep when the SWAT team stormed the nursery.
They told her that her husband, Major Alek Crane, was killed in action overseas. But instead of a hero's funeral, he was branded a national traitor, and the feds were seizing every penny of their wealth.
Lead investigator Issac Rocha dragged Alek's charred remains into the grand hall just to mock him. He stripped Annetta of her wedding band, confiscated her winter coat, and officially exiled her, her daughter, and her hostile mother-in-law to a freezing Appalachian death zone. In the federal holding cell, the extended family turned on Annetta, calling her a cheap commoner and leaving her to shiver on the concrete floor. They were dumped in an abandoned mining town with nothing but canvas jumpsuits to die in the snow.
Annetta knew Alek was framed in a ruthless political hit. Issac Rocha wanted them to rot in the mud and freeze to death, completely forgotten by the world.
"We are going to live, and we are going to burn Issac Rocha to the ground."
But Issac made one fatal mistake. He didn't know the quiet, submissive daughter-in-law had spent the last three years secretly building a military-grade doomsday bunker right in the heart of that very mountain. Stepping past the freezing mud, Annetta initiated the biometric scan, and the massive steel blast doors slowly swung open.
7.5
After spending five grueling years securing the Madden Pack's empire, I thought my Alpha mate and I were finally building a perfect family.
But on my birthday, I returned home to find a thick, impenetrable wall of ice in our Mate bond.
Caden had completely shut me out to throw a lavish party for my half-sister, Adalynn.
He let Adalynn pollute our penthouse with her cheap perfume and brainwash my five-year-old daughter, Elara.
"Auntie Adalynn is a million times better than Mommy!"
Elara chirped happily to a camera, while Caden watched with a doting smile.
He publicly humiliated me, commanded the servants to ignore me, and deliberately fed Elara severe allergens just to spite my maternal rules.
When my pup ended up in the pack hospital gasping for air, Caden confiscated her tablet and roared at her to stop crying for the mother who "abandoned" her.
My heart shattered into a million irreparable pieces.
I couldn't understand how the man destined to protect my soul could twist my love into cruelty and use our helpless cub as a punching bag for his ego.
But the weeping, pathetic Luna died right there.
I calmly signed the divorce papers, surrendered all my assets, and walked out into the cold night.
Opening my encrypted laptop, I reclaimed my hidden identity as the global elite hacker "Ghost" and initiated a lethal protocol.
It was time to burn his entire world to the ground.