His Unwanted Mate: Rise Of The White Wolf

"Just sign the damn paper, Ava." Liam, the Alpha I had served and loved for three years, threw a confession across the table. He wanted me to admit to corporate espionage—a crime actually committed by his fragile, innocent mistress, Chloe. When I refused, Liam didn't hesitate. He pulled up a live feed of my dying mother in the pack hospital and held his finger over the 'Terminate Life Support' button. "She is pack property. Sign, or the machine turns off." To save my mother, I signed away my rank, my reputation, and my freedom. I became a Rogue. But taking the fall wasn't enough for them. Two days later, Chloe trapped me in the lab to steal my life's work. To cover her tracks, she sabotaged the servers and set the room on fire. When the flames roared to life, Liam burst in. He saw me trapped in a glass box, choking on poisonous fumes. He saw Chloe standing safely by the door, faking a sprained ankle. He looked at me. Then he looked at her. "I'm sorry," he mouthed. He scooped up the arsonist and ran, leaving me to be consumed by the inferno. As the fire melted my skin, the pathetic love I held for him finally died. But I didn't. Instead of turning to ash, an ancient, terrifying power exploded from my core. My eyes snapped open, glowing a blinding white. I reached out through the mind-link to the one man Liam feared most. "Ethan? I'm ready to burn the Blackwood Pack to the ground."

Chapters

Chapter 5

Ava POV:

The air inside the glass box tasted like acetone and death. My head spun.

Through the glass, I saw Liam comforting a fake-sobbing Chloe.

Then, a spark.

Chloe had overloaded the server rack. The cooling fans died. Heat spiked.

'BOOM.'

A transformer blew, showering sparks onto the chemical leaks on the floor.

Blue and orange flames whooshed up the walls.

"Fire!" I shouted.

Liam spun around. He saw the flames. He saw me trapped.

He took a step toward me. For a heartbeat, I thought he would save me.

Then Chloe screamed. "Liam! My ankle! I can't run!"

She was by the exit. Safe. But she collapsed, clutching her leg.

Liam looked at me. I pressed my hand against the glass. Smoke was pouring into my sealed room.

He looked at me. Then at Chloe.

"I'm sorry," he mouthed.

He scooped Chloe up and ran out.

He left me to burn.

The fire reached the silver nitrate canister inside my room.

The explosion blew me backward.

White-hot agony. Silver dust shrapnel embedded in my skin like a thousand hornet stings.

I hit the back wall. Clothes on fire. Skin blistering. Darkness swallowed me.

'Thump... thump... thump...'

And then, a voice spoke. Not my weak inner wolf. A voice like glaciers cracking.

"NOT YET."

My eyes snapped open. Not brown. White. Glowing white.

Power exploded from my core. The White Wolf—the rarest bloodline, dormant for years—woke up.

I felt my skin knitting together. The silver shrapnel was pushed out by regenerating muscle. The pain vanished.

I stood up in the inferno. The flames felt like warm water.

But the transformation drained me. My knees gave out just as the sprinklers kicked on.

I collapsed, the ancient power flickering out, leaving me empty.

I woke up in the pack hospital. My wrists and ankles were bound with heavy silver cuffs. The burn was constant, keeping my new power suppressed.

"She's awake," a nurse whispered.

Liam stood there. He looked annoyed.

"You survived," he said. "Lucky."

"You left me," I rasped.

"I saved the future Luna," Liam said hard. "And you caused the explosion. Investigators found faulty wiring in 'your' lab."

"Chloe..."

"Stop blaming her!" Liam shouted. He grabbed my jaw. "The Council is asking questions about how you survived that blast. You're dangerous, Ava. That's why the cuffs stay on."

"Get up," he ordered. "Chloe is in the next room. She inhaled smoke. You are going to go in there, get on your knees, and apologize."

"No."

Liam tightened his grip on the silver cuff. Agony shot up my arm.

"You have no choice. You're a Rogue in custody. Apologize, or I hand you over to the Council for arson."

I looked at the man I had worshipped. The love was dead.

"Okay," I said softly.

'I'll play your game. For now.'

Continue to next part

The wind off the Hudson River was sharp, biting through my wool coat. I stood on the pavement across the street, staring up at the Manhattan penthouse. The building had a sleek, imposing facade of glass and dark steel. We spent three years renovating that place. I picked out the custom velvet curtains in the living room. I flew to Italy to select the marble for the kitchen island. I treated that home like a monument to what we were building together. Now, I looked up at those towering windows and felt nothing but a cold, heavy knot in my chest. My phone buzzed in my gloved hand. It was an automated alert from the property management app I set up during the remodel.

Billionaire Modern Romance

9.2

After My Husband Proposed to His Mistress at Our Gala

9.2

The rooftop was lit like a dream someone else was having. Three hundred people. Champagne towers. A string quartet playing something soft and forgettable near the east terrace. The Manhattan skyline spread out behind it all like a backdrop someone had ordered specifically for tonight — all glass and light and the kind of beauty that costs more than most people make in a year. I had worn the navy Valentino. The one Jace said made me look like I belonged anywhere. I remember thinking, when I zipped it up in the car, that it was a good omen. I was wrong about a lot of things that night. Jace took the microphone at 9:47 p.m.

Billionaire Modern Romance

9.1

Ditched for the Skies

9.1

The coffee shop buzzed with its usual afternoon energy, but I barely heard the familiar hum of conversation and clinking cups. Across from me, Ryan scrolled through his phone with that casual indifference I'd grown to recognize—the same look he wore when I tried to share something important with him. "So Marina had another emergency last night," he said without looking up, his thumb still swiping across the screen. "Poor thing was in so much pain she could barely get out of bed." My chest tightened. Two weeks. It had been exactly two weeks since I'd curled up on my bathroom floor, tears streaming down my face as cramps tore through my body like serrated knives. Two weeks since I'd called him, voice breaking, begging him to pick up some tampons and ibuprofen because I couldn't even stand up straight. "You know how uncomfortable that stuff makes me, Lace," he'd said then, his voice distant and dismissive. "Can't you just ask your cousin or something? I've got plans with the guys anyway." "What kind of emergency?" The words came out steadier than I felt.

Modern Romance Young Adult

9.0

Fiancé's Affair Unveiled

9.0

I sat cross-legged on the plush carpet of the bridal suite, my wedding vows spread before me like delicate petals. The words I'd written and rewritten a dozen times seemed perfect now—promises of devotion, of the love that had sustained me through five years with Sebastian. Tomorrow, I would stand before everyone we knew and pledge my heart to the man who already owned every piece of it. The silk of my nightgown whispered against my skin as I reached for my pen, ready to add one final line about forever. That's when the screaming started. Shrill, desperate cries echoed from the hallway, growing louder by the second. I froze, pen suspended over paper, my heart hammering against my ribs. The sound was raw, animalistic—like someone in genuine distress. The door to my suite exploded open. Kira Harrison burst through like a storm given human form, her dark hair wild around her face, mascara streaking down her cheeks in black rivers.

Modern Mystery Romance

7.9

First Lady Out, Your Majesty In

7.9

For three years, Allison played the perfect First Lady in a marriage that never gave her love back. Nolan handed her divorce papers, sneering at her background while his mother mocked her as barren and his pregnant mistress claimed her place. So Allison walked away. On the very day she left him, the royal family reclaimed her as their lost princess. Crown, fortune, power, three terrifying brothers, and a handpicked royal consort now stood at her side. Her eldest brother-the world's most feared arms dealer-pushed a black card across the table. "Go on. Spend whatever you like." Her second brother-the genius doctor-twirled a scalpel between his fingers. "Tell me, sis. How many cuts do the ones who hurt you deserve?" Her third brother-a global martial arts superstar-stormed into her ex-husband's lair. "Who made my sister cry? Time to face the music." When her regretful ex begged for another chance, Allison only smiled. It was too late. She was no longer his wife. She was his worst mistake.

Action Modern Romance

7.3

Reborn Heiress Marries My Ex-Fiancé's Brother

7.3

Tonight was supposed to be the night I became the happiest woman in D.C., celebrating my engagement at the legendary Bolton Manor gala. I wore emerald silk and a diamond that cost more than most mansions, convinced that Hank Bolton was my soulmate and the key to my family's future. But behind the heavy oak doors of the guest wing, the dream died. I found my fiancé tangled with another woman, laughing about how I was nothing more than a "clueless cash cow" whose inheritance would fund his run for the Senate. In my first life, I reacted with tears and screams, which only allowed his family to paint me as an unstable lunatic. They stripped me of my dignity, bankrupted the Adams estate, and watched coldly as my brother, Lucas, died in a ditch trying to save me. I ended up gasping for air in a burning building, realizing too late that my perfect engagement was actually my execution. I died in the soot and the shadows, feeling the searing heat of a betrayal that burned worse than the fire. I lost everything because I was too blind to see the monsters hiding behind expensive smiles. But then, I suddenly gasped for air and realized the smoke was gone. I was standing in front of a vanity, the calendar mocking me: October 14th. The night of the gala. I had been given a second chance, and this time, I wasn't going to be the victim. I recorded the betrayal on my phone and walked into the library with a heart made of ice. I didn't just blow up the engagement; I demanded a new groom—Hank’s "invalid" older brother, Dereck, a man the world had written off as a dying recluse. "I'll take him," I told the stunned family. I wanted a husband who couldn't cheat, a puppet who would leave me a wealthy widow within a year. I thought I was choosing a safe, broken man to shield me from my enemies. I didn't know that under his blanket, Dereck was hiding a holster, or that the "dying" man was actually a predator who had been waiting for someone exactly like me to walk into his trap.

Billionaire Modern Romance

His Unwanted Mate: Rise Of The White Wolf

Chapter 5

You may also like