
HIS LUNA, HIS PRISONER.
Bound by fate, Torn by desire, Forbidden by choice.
Rhyna, a healer omega, never asked for war, or to be taken prisoner. But when the feared Alpha, Conan, drags her into the heart of enemy territory, her world flips upside down.
He claims she is his Luna, destined by a bond she refuses to accept. She is determined to fight, to resist, to survive... but Conan's dominance, power, and the pull of their inexplicable bond test everything she thought she knew about love, loyalty, and herself.
In a world where packs clash and hearts are weapons, can a healer survive the Alpha's desires, and resist the pull of a mate she never wanted?
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Chapter 2
RHYNA'S POV
We finally stopped to rest. My legs were trembling, my chest pounding against my ribcage, but I forced myself to sit upright. I was sure he noticed how exhausted I was. Every muscle in my body screamed for relief, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing me weak.
"Thank you," I muttered quietly as he helped me sit while trying to play the part of the obedient prisoner, at least for a moment. Maybe if I appeared calm, he would lower his guard. I had to survive. I had to wait for my chance.
He sank down beside me, moving carefully. That's when I saw it,his side was covered in blood. Dark, thick, and glistening in the moonlight. My stomach twisted, and before I even thought, my hand reached out.
"Here... let me help," I said, voice soft but insistent.
He waved me away, sharp and commanding. "Never mind," he said.
"You're wounded. You're bleeding. Let me take a look. Just lay down," I insisted, my voice trembling slightly, but my instinct to heal outweighed my fear.
"Fuck off," he spat. "Leave me alone."
I froze, my hand hovering in the air. My heart hammered in my chest. I wasn't supposed to care about my captor. I wasn't supposed to help him. But the blood... it called to me. My healer instincts were stronger than my fear.
I sat there, perfectly still, but inside, chaos raged. My mind raced through possibilities: if I moved carefully, I might slip away, vanish into the shadows, and leave this nightmare behind. He was weakened, slower now from blood loss, but something in his aura made me hesitate. I was afraid.
Then, without warning, I bolted. My legs moved faster than I ever thought possible, carrying me away from him, away from captivity. I didn't know where I was going,anywhere was better than being held by him.
I ran blindly into the forest, the cold air biting my cheeks, the roots and rocks threatening to trip me. My lungs burned with every gasp. "Please, Moon Goddess, help me," I prayed, my voice barely audible over the pounding of my heart.
A sudden, powerful grip caught me mid-stride. His hands wrapped around me, pulling me back.
"No!" I screamed, fighting with every ounce of strength I had. I dug my long nails into his side, into the wound I had seen.
Warm blood spilled over my fingers.
My breath caught. My chest burned, sharp and sudden, like something had awakened inside me, a fire I couldn't control.
He froze.
Just for a second.
Then his grip tightened, then loosened, as if he was fighting himself.
My wolf stirred instinctively, tense and restless.
He didn't flinch. He held me tighter. My strength began to fade. My arms dropped to my sides.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he shouted, voice booming, dark and dangerous. "Didn't I tell you to stay still? Huh? Do you have any idea what you've done?"
His green eyes blazed, and I realized he wasn't just angry,he was disturbed. Terrified by something I didn't understand.
"I could wring your small neck, you know," he hissed, tight and controlled.
"Fuck you," I spat back. "Do whatever you want."
And even as I said it, I knew I wasn't giving up. I would keep trying, keep struggling, until I was free.
****
Hours passed,or maybe it was only minutes. Time had no meaning as he carried me through the forest. My arms ached, my muscles burned, but I refused to fall silent. I refused to be broken. I focused on the sounds around me,the rustle of leaves, the snapping of twigs, the distant calls of nocturnal creatures,as though mapping a path to escape.
Finally, we reached his territory as the first light of morning touched the horizon. My breath caught at the sight before me. A massive camp stretched out in the clearing, dozens of werewolves moving with precision, their eyes glowing faintly in the morning mist.
They rushed toward him as if drawn by some invisible force. Bowing, howling, rushing to show their loyalty.
I realized then: this was no ordinary Alpha. He was respected, feared, loved, and cherished.
And here I was,the enemy, alone and helpless.
He gave quiet commands, and the pack obeyed without question. "Keep her safe," he said. "In one of the rooms. Guard her at all times."
I swallowed hard. "Where am I?" I asked, my voice small, barely audible, quivering with a mixture of fear and awe.
No one answered me. One of the guards led me through the camp, and I couldn't stop staring. The air was filled with the scent of earth, smoke, and fur. I could hear faint murmurs and the shuffle of paws on dirt paths.
The room was too comfortable.
Soft bed, clean air, and no chains.
My stomach twisted.
Why would an enemy Alpha keep his prisoner like this?
This place didn't feel like a prison. It was clean, neat, and calm.
I sat down on the edge of the bed, my mind spinning. My hands still tingled from contact with his blood. The warmth hadn't faded.
My chest burned faintly, it burned with a strange rhythm that wasn't entirely my own. My mind raced through scenarios, wondering if this was a trap, a test, or some cruel game.
Something was wrong. Too many things were wrong.
But my body ached. My muscles were sore. My wolf whimpered for rest, and for a moment, the thought of sleep brought me so much relief.
My eyelids felt heavy, my mind dizzy, but fear kept me alert, aware of every creak in the floorboards, every shadow dancing on the walls.
I lay down carefully, eyes darting to the door. I will rest, just a little, to gather strength. And when I woke up... I would decide my next move.
Because whatever he thought of me... he was wrong.
And I wasn't finished yet.
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8.8
Scarlet's world shattered the night she discovered her husband in her bed with her own sister.
The betrayal was brutal. The humiliation, unforgivable. And what hurt the most? Neither of them felt a single ounce of remorse.
Within months, her husband divorced her and married the very woman who helped destroy her life, her sister.
They thought she would break. They thought she would disappear quietly.
They were wrong.
Ryan Marchetti-cold, calculating, and dangerously powerful, has spent years waiting for the perfect chance to destroy his business rival. Marrying that rival's ex-wife is the ultimate move. Strategic.
For Scarlet, marrying Ryan isn't about love. It's about revenge.
A calculated alliance. A public statement. A promise that she will rise from the ashes they left her in. Together, they become the scandal that shakes empires.
But revenge is never simple.
Because behind Ryan's icy control lies a secret, one tied to her past, to her ex-husband, to the very marriage that ruined her life. A truth so explosive it could unravel everything she thought she knew.
Was she just a pawn in Ryan's war from the very beginning?
Or is the man she's slowly falling for capable of betraying her too?
In a game fueled by vengeance, power, and buried truths, Scarlet must decide:
Will she let betrayal destroy her again...
Or will she risk her heart for the one man who might truly love her?

9.2
He married her to control her.
To break her.
To own her.
Seraphina let him believe it.
She plays the quiet wife-
soft voice, lowered eyes, perfect obedience.
But behind every smile...
is a plan he was never meant to survive.
Because this marriage was never about love.
Not even power.
It was revenge.
And when Lucien finally uncovers the truth-
when he realizes who she really is...
he won't be fighting to keep her.
He'll be begging to escape her.

7.2
"I made you cum three times in one night and how did you repay me? You dumped our newborn on my doorstep and fled for four years.
Now that I've found you, Diana, there's no escaping me."
~~~DIANA~~~
My wedding happened just a few hours ago when I caught my husband in bed, smashing his boss to raise money for our honeymoon.
I got drunk, broke, and angry-then I got kidnapped.
I woke up in a stranger's house in Vegas.
Cairo Arsher's mansion.
He is rich, too handsome for my sanity and dangerously tempting.
But before I could call the cops on him, he took my hand, kissed it softly, and claimed I'm the woman he fell in love with four years ago-
the one who ran away and left him a newborn.
And now he's vowed to never let me go.
But the truth is... I'VE NEVER REALLY MET THIS MAN BEFORE.

8.9
PROFESSOR SIN
8.9
"Spread your legs and use your hands, my little dove," his voice was rough, a dark whisper that curled into my skin. My body trembled, traitorous, yet I obeyed..because I never resisted him. I couldn't. Even when his words bound me tighter than any rope, even when shame burned my cheeks, my fingers still moved at his command.
I'm Amara Blake. At home, I'm nothing.
The unwanted daughter.
The mistake forced to live in her sister's shadow. A living Donor. A spare part to my sister. Scorned by my mother, hated by my father, reminded daily that my only worth is keeping myself "pure" for Nina's sake.
But with him... purity doesn't exist.
Professor Black doesn't see me as a burden.
He sees me as temptation.
A secret waiting to be ruined.
Every time I walk into his office, I feel the weight of his gaze...hungry, dangerous, claiming. I shouldn't want him. I shouldn't crave the way his voice curls against my skin like a promise of sin.
But I do.
And when his hands finally touch me, I realize one truth...I'm no angel.
I was made to burn. MY PROFESSOR SIN

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.

8.4
Juliette was an agriculture major desperately trying to get top-tier CRISPR potato data from Adrian Castillo, the untouchable physics genius and wealthy heir.
But to get it, she was dragged to a high-end shooting club, where Adrian suddenly lost all his legendary motor skills, shooting zeroes and acting like a helpless nerd.
His clumsy act made Juliette a target. Blair, a wealthy heiress, cornered her, mocking her mud-stained cargo pants and calling her a pathetic dirt-girl.
"If you lose, you leave this club and never speak to Adrian again."
Blair challenged her to a professional air pistol match. The crowd of elites laughed, waiting for the farm girl to humiliate herself.
Even worse, Adrian just stood behind her, pretending to be terrified of Blair and whispering that his sinuses would swell shut if Juliette didn't save him.
The mockery and judgment felt suffocating. Everyone thought she was just a desperate fangirl who didn't even know how to hold a gun.
But they didn't know the dark trauma she had buried years ago. And she didn't understand why Adrian, a man who could supposedly shoot a coin at eight hundred meters in a sandstorm, was deliberately playing weak to push her to the firing line. What was his sick endgame?
To secure her experimental fertilizer, Juliette finally stopped hiding.
She picked up the competition pistol, locked her perfect stance, and fired ten flawless shots.
108.5. Total, undeniable annihilation.