Gilded Cage, Shattered Soul, Reborn
I was the wife of Callan Drake, the man who conquered death to save me. Our love was a modern myth, and for five years, I was his most prized possession, living in a gilded cage everyone envied.
But on our fifth anniversary, I discovered his perfect devotion was a lie. He was cheating on me with his mistress, Ericka.
I followed them to a crumbling shack and heard her cruel words slice through the air.
"She's a broken toy," she whispered to him. "A barren queen who can't give you an heir."
Then I watched as he pulled her into his arms, their silhouettes twisting together in a sickening dance of betrayal. The man who had moved heaven and earth for me was giving himself to another woman.
Everything I believed in was a carefully constructed illusion. He had saved my body, but he had just killed my soul.
So that night, I gave him one last gift. While he was distracted at our anniversary gala, I left the dissolution papers on our bed and walked away forever. By midnight, I was gone.
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Chapter 3
Claire Keller POV:
He cancelled all his remaining meetings for the day. That was rare. Then he invited me to join him for the afternoon festival, a local tradition he usually dismissed as "too provincial." He was trying too hard, a desperate attempt to patch over the cracks he didn' t even realize I' d seen. Callan was trying to be the devoted husband, the one the world adored.
The festival market was a vibrant kaleidoscope of colors and sounds, a stark contrast to the austere grandeur of the Drake estate. Stalls overflowed with hand-woven silks, exotic spices, and trinkets that sparkled under the afternoon sun. The air hummed with laughter and the melodic strums of a traditional lute. A tiny spark of excitement, a ghost of my former self, flickered within me. I allowed myself to feel it, just for a moment, a bittersweet taste of the life I' d given up for him.
I remembered how I used to pore over ancient texts, how I' d spend hours in dusty archives, my fingers tracing the faded lines of forgotten histories. My life before Callan had been quiet, filled with the pursuit of beauty and knowledge. He had swept me up in a whirlwind of luxury and public adoration, convincing me that my quiet passions were secondary to our shared, grand narrative. But soon, very soon, I would be free to explore those lost parts of myself again.
Callan' s hand was a possessive weight at my lower back, guiding me through the throng. He' d pause occasionally, adjusting the intricate obsidian earrings he'd given me, or smoothing a stray strand of hair from my face. Each touch, once a comfort, now felt like a brand, searing into my skin. He was marking his territory, publicly staking his claim on me, the ultimate trophy wife.
A small child, no older than seven, approached us, her eyes wide with reverence. She bowed deeply to Callan, then offered him a delicate lotus blossom, its petals glowing with a soft, ethereal light.
"For the lord and his lady," she chirped, her voice like tinkling bells. "They say this is the flower of eternal love, Lord Drake. It shines brightest for those whose bond is true."
A jolt ran through me. Eternal love. True bond. The words were a mockery. My hand instinctively reached out to push the flower away, a desperate need to reject the false symbolism.
But Callan, ever the showman, chuckled. He took the blossom, his gaze softening as he examined its glowing petals. "Indeed," he murmured, "a beautiful sentiment." He turned to the child, a charming smile on his face. "Tell me, little one, do you have more of these?"
The child nodded eagerly. "Many, my lord! Beneath the willow tree by the old stream."
"Then I shall buy them all," Callan declared, pulling out a pouch heavy with gold coins. "Every last one. For my wife, of course. For our eternal love."
"No!" The word burst from my lips, sharp and unexpected, cutting through the festive din like a knife. The sudden sound made Callan pause, his head tilting in confusion.
I forced myself to breathe, to push down the nausea that threatened to overwhelm me. My hand, still outstretched, stopped him. The gesture was firm, a barrier between him and the child.
He turned to me, his brow furrowed. "Claire? What is it, my love? You always adored these blossoms. You said they reminded you of the ancient art you loved so much."
My voice was stiff, remote. "I don't. Not anymore."
"I don't like them anymore." The words hung in the air, cold and definitive. It was more than just a flower. It was a rejection of everything he claimed it represented, everything he had broken.
The smile on Callan' s face faltered, replaced by a flicker of something I couldn' t quite decipher.
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8.2
They say Alpha Kael Vorthrane is not a man.
He is a curse.
A beast born from betrayal.
A ruler who destroyed entire packs to build his throne.
And now... he owns mine.
I am Liora Ashwyn.
Daughter of the Dark Moon Alpha.
The girl my own parents handed over like a peace offering when Alpha Kael came for revenge.
I watched him slaughter my pack.
I watched my parents choose me to save themselves.
And I watched his soldiers drag me away to be his "gift."
But when Alpha Kael finally looked at me...
He didn't see a slave.
He saw the daughter of the people who ruined his life.
And he decided I would pay for their sins.
Kael doesn't just want my body.
He wants my fear.
My pride.
My spirit.
He wants to break me slowly.
Because his wolf is insatiable.
Cruel.
Hungry for revenge.
And I am the perfect victim.
But Alpha Kael doesn't know one thing...
I am not as weak as I look.
And the girl he plans to destroy might be the only one capable of destroying him.
Or worse...
Becoming the one thing his wolf never expected.
His perfect mate.
7.4
BLURB;
They told her she was born to die. They told him he was born to kill. They were both wrong.
Hazel was the perfect sacrifice: poor, powerless, and prepared for the dragon's flame. Prince Dravon was the perfect executioner: ruthless, royal, and bound by duty.
Their first glance which was a magnetic attraction changed everything.
Now, running from a kingdom that wants her blood and a brother who wants his throne, they uncover a horrific secret. The ritual is a key to unlock something ancient vorthar an ancient dragon God. The curse is a cage. And Hazel's rare bloodline containing the blood line of three realms makes her the most dangerous creature in the world the target of a priestess who wants eternal power and a dragon-god who dreams of eternal fire and freedom to rule the whole world.
To save their worlds, Hazel and Dravon must burn the old lies to the ground and forge a new legend from the ashes.
7.9
To Alpha Damien, Sophia was never a Luna-merely a breathing womb.
For years, she bore the weight of his cold indifference, trapped in a marriage where he only touched her on the "fertility days" his mother decreed.
While he flaunted his mistress Tiffany through the kingdom, Sophia was given a brutal ultimatum--
Return only when you carry a son.
She nearly lost her life giving birth to their daughter. But her suffering meant nothing-not to Damien, not to his vicious mother, and certainly not to a pack that saw her as nothing more than disposable breeding stock.
Now, pregnant again, Sophia overhears Damien's callous words:
She can handle the risks better than Tiffany.
In that moment, something in her snaps.
She's done being the obedient Luna.
Done enduring endless humiliation.
Done watching Tiffany poison their daughter's mind and steal the motherhood that should have been hers.
But escaping an Alpha is no easy feat-not when their bond refuses to break. and dark enemies lie in wait, hungry to seize control of her unborn heir.
Will Sophia reclaim her life, her daughter, and the wolf that's been dormant inside her for far too long?
Or will the man she once loved burn every last thing she holds dear to the ground?
8.1
Erich died in a freezing cabin, abandoned by the powerful Hollywood actor who had kept him as an abused, captive pet.
But instead of finding peace, his eyes snapped open in a rundown bedroom. He had been reborn into the body of a suicidal stranger.
The original owner, who shared his exact name, had swallowed a bottle of pills after being framed for plagiarism and destroyed by cyberbullying.
Now, his new family was drowning in medical debt and facing foreclosure.
Meanwhile, Erich was still paralyzed by the severe PTSD of his past life, suffocating at the mere memory of his ex's footsteps.
Desperate to shed his trauma, he went to a barbershop to cut off the greasy hair hiding his new face.
But when the barber removed the cape, a wave of pure, unadulterated terror crashed over Erich.
Staring back in the mirror was his exact original face, complete with his signature teardrop mole.
He knew if his psychopathic ex saw this face, the man would tear the world apart to drag him back to his personal hell in Malibu.
But Erich refused to be a victim again. He grabbed a flyer for a prestigious art competition and looked at his stunned new sister.
"I'm going to New York."
This time, he wouldn't hide. He was going to use his art to save this broken family and declare war on everyone who had ruined them.
9.2
"Are you mad!!!!!"
The words cut through the night like a blade.
Naira did not turn. She stood at the edge of the river with her cloak pulled tight around her shoulders, staring at the black water as if it might swallow her thoughts.
Behind her, her sister stepped closer. "Do you know what you have done?"
Naira swallowed. "I know what I survived."
"That is not an answer."
The wind dragged dead leaves across the ground. Somewhere beyond the trees, wolves howled, their voices distant but watchful.
"You lay with the Alpha," her sister said again, slower this time. "After his brother rejected you."
Naira's fingers curled into fists.
"He did more than reject me," she said quietly. "He promised me a bond. He promised me a name. Then he gave it to another woman and told me to forget him."
Her sister scoffed. "And so you chose the throne instead?"
"I chose not to die poor and forgotten," Naira snapped.
Silence fell between them.
The Alpha's house rose on the hill like a scar in the dark. Stone walls. Iron gates. The center of all decisions.
"You will be called a mistress," her sister said. "They will spit your name like poison."
"They already do," Naira replied. "Even before this."
Her sister stepped closer. "What about the Luna?"
Naira looked away.
"She watches everything."
"And she will destroy you."
Naira pressed a hand to her stomach.
"She cannot touch what she does not know," she said.
Her sister froze. "What do you mean?"
The words came out like a confession and a curse.
"I am with child."
The night seemed to hold its breath.
"...Whose?" her sister asked slowly.
Naira lifted her chin. "The Alpha's."
A sharp breath escaped her sister's lips. "You have sentenced yourself."
"I have saved myself," Naira whispered.
"You think this will protect you?"
"It already has."
Her sister shook her head. "You should have left the pack. You should have run."
"And go where?" Naira demanded. "To starve among rogues? To be hunted like meat?"
"You would have lived."
"Living is not the same as surviving."
Her sister looked at her with something close to fear.
"What will you tell them?"
Naira hesitated.
"I will say the child belongs to his brother."
Her sister stared. "You will lie?"
"I will breathe," Naira said. "I will walk in daylight. I will not beg again."
The river whispered beside them.
"You will destroy him," her sister said. "The brother."
"He destroyed me first."
"Two wrongs do not make safety."
"They make silence."
Footsteps broke the night.
Both women turned.
The Alpha stepped from the trees, his presence bending the space around him. His cloak moved like shadow. His eyes were cold, unreadable.
"You should not meet here," he said.
"I belong nowhere else," Naira answered.
His gaze dropped to her stomach.
"You told her."
"Yes."
He studied her sister. "She will keep quiet."
Her sister swallowed but said nothing.
"No one must know," the Alpha continued. "Not the Luna. Not the council."
"And when the child is born?" Naira asked.
His jaw tightened. "The child will not carry my name."
"She will carry your blood."
"That is worse."
Naira stepped closer. "Then why did you touch me?"
"Because you were already broken."
The words struck deep.
"And because power does not refuse what comes to it."
The Alpha turned away. "You will live in the lower quarters."
"I will."
"You will be invisible."
"I already am."
"And the child-"
"She will be safe," Naira said. "Or I will burn this pack myself."
The Alpha's eyes darkened. "Do not threaten what you cannot control."
"I already control the truth," Naira replied.
He said nothing.
The wind rose.
"Go," he said finally. "Before someone sees you."
Naira bowed her head.
As she walked away, her sister followed.
"You are walking into fire," her sister whispered.
"I have lived in ashes," Naira replied.
And somewhere inside her, something small and unaware shifted - a life born from rejection, power, and lies.
A life that would pay for a secret made beside a river.
UNLISHSING THE CURSE ON AN UNBORN CHILD.
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CLAIMED BY THE QUARTERBACK ALPHA
8.4
Alpha Ashton's life fall apart when his fake girlfriend Melanie dies from a miscarriage. With no way to prove his innocence, Ashton escapes into the wild and pleads the Moon Goddess for a second chance. He wakes up in the past with no memory of what happened.
But James, a quiet human boy who had a crush on Melanie, remembers everything. Convinced he's been sent back to save her, he's determined to win her heart before Ashton can.
What James doesn't know is Ashton isn't chasing Melanie but he's quietly battling the bond that pulls him toward James, his mate.