
Lucky? No! I Don't Wanna Be Uncle Alpha's Second Mate
Lesley Williams was once the alpha's daughter, but a fatal accident took away everything she loved. Now she's her Uncle's pet and the pack's omega, which means she's constantly bullied and abused. She's broken inside, but she doesn't want to leave her father's pack in fear of what her uncle might do to them in retaliation. Her only comfort is that when she meets her mate, he'll be able to take her away from this hellhole...
Alpha Cedrick Silver had a mate once. A beautiful omega wolf, but she rejected him. Barely surviving the broken bond, he became ruthless and coldhearted, throwing himself into building up his pack to be the biggest and strongest pack in the nation. Now he has a girlfriend, that he's content with and he does not want a mate: EVER!
But the second their eyes met, Cedrick and Lesley realized that they were fated for each other. Not thrilled about having another omega mate, Cedrick is even more disgusted when he realized that not only is his second chance mate considered 'the pack's slut', but she's also half his age.
Does he want someone like that as his mate and Luna? Can she trust him with her secrets? Can these two broken people find love?
WARNING!!
This story contains scenes of sexual abuse of a child, rape, sex, strong language, verbal abuse, extreme bullying, mental disorders, self-harm, thoughts of suicide, gore, and other offenses that might be illegal in some countries.
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Chapter 6
Lesley's POV
I got downstairs into the girls' locker room and headed to the showers. Luckily PE wasn't until the afternoon, so I was alone. I got out of my clothes and turned on the shower. The water was freezing at first, making my entire body cringe. But it also felt good. My bruised knuckles appreciated the cold and so did the bruise on my chin. Bastard! I didn't see that ring coming. I smiled though. He didn't seem to particularly like it when I ripped his piercing out. So, I guess that's a comfort.
The fight flashed back in my mind. I'd barely held anything back. My fist connected with his jawline. The second's nose. I kicked the third in the knee and finally took the last one by the head and introduced it to the bathroom toilet. And that's when they started to fight back. I guess they didn't want anyone to know, that four boys couldn't take down one girl.
They didn't hit as hard as Uncle Harry, but my ribcage got an unexpecting blow, draining my lungs for air. And my jaw was hurting from a lucky bunch; hey they were still four against one! Cut me some slack! The scratch on my chin was however entirely my fault. I saw it coming and yet I let him hit me because he was the last one standing. I was planning on taking him out right after, and then he had pulled some fucking mobster bullshit like that! This is a 'no weapons allowed' school. I'm just saying: brass knuckles are a fucking weapon!
Well, all's well that ends well, I suppose. And by 'well' I mean them all crying and/or unconscious on the bathroom floor, hopefully with some serious broken bones and a concussion, that matched mine. Well, thanks to my wolf I didn't have to worry about that too much now, but these new bruises were gonna take forever to heal, now that I'd drained my wolf completely.
I rarely did that I and I always felt bad after. I didn't sense her much, so I restrained myself from using any of her already depleted strength. She did let me through and I sometimes could feel some small amount of pride emit from her, every time I used her strength to stand up against Fraya, Trevor, or just an asshole who I deemed worthy of a serious beat down. Like today. Today definitely made it to the top three of bad schooldays.
The water turned warmer and washed my sweaty, puck-y, and urin-y body clean. Or---cleaner! I used the dispenser soap available to wash my hair and body, and I did not mind smelling like honey and coconut! Anything was better than before. But of course, since I belonged to a werewolf society, they were definitely gonna give me some strange looks today and cringe their noses. One of the many pros, living with werewolves.
Yeah.!
(enthusiasm not included in the cheer!)
I was definitely gonna have to make some 'pee jokes' today then.
"I got peed on, imagine that! Haha!"
"This is why they shouldn't put urinals in the lady's room! Haha-haha."
I had to practice my laugh and smile, so they wouldn't know how utterly humiliated and absolutely worthless I felt.
When I was finally clean, I sighed in relief. But it came out as a hard sob. What---?! I felt my cheeks. I hadn't even realized I was crying. I'd just been ignoring the pain, the humiliation, and anger, I didn't even notice I was crying. I tried to push them back, but they didn't want to. They kept pressing, strong and harder. And the more I kept pressing, the worse the pain got. In my throat, my gut, my heart. everything ached! I felt so low and miserable.
So weak.
I stopped fighting it. I crumbled and cried. Just cried until I was done. Until I couldn't feel a thing. I could do, 'feeling nothing'. I was an expert in that. I felt exhausted from all the crying, but I didn't feel anything else. So, I could fake whatever feeling I wanted. Easy peasy. once you have 6 years of experience.
I got up and whet to the lockers. Luckily, I always kept an extra set of clothes at school. Like I'd said, I wasn't exactly the most popular girl and even at school my pack members kept away because they were afraid of Fraya and Trevor. Well, all except Amanda, but I'm not counting that backstabbing bitch right now. Any-hore, I was more often than not the fool to play a prank on and so my clothes were wet, dirty, smelly, or gone most of the time. In the end, it was just more efficient to have a spare lying around.
It wasn't anything fancy: just leggings, a tank top, and one of Dean's old hoodies, that was about three times bigger than me. And undergarments: panties and a sports bra I'd gotten from Amanda on my 16th birthday. She always bought me those things and I loved her for it. Like seriously! I didn't get any money to buy myself stuff like that and it's not like Uncle Harry cared! Hell, he probably preferred me 'all natural'.
I took my dirty clothes and stuffed them in my bag. When I was done, I noticed that people were coming in and getting ready for PE. Everybody giving me strange looks, nervous whispers (that I did not bother trying to listen to), and speed texting, you'd think their thumbs were related to The Flash.
I sighed. This was heading one way fast.
And to my not very big surprise, I barely reached my locker, before.
"Lesley Williams!"
I gazed up and noticed one of the teachers storming toward me. Eyes wild and nostrils flaring.
"The Principal's office! NOW!"
I didn't argue. I closed the door and made my very familiar way to the principal's office.
"So," the tall human Principal said, sitting on the edge of his desk right in front of me. His name was Mr. Gregory Flinze and usually, he was a kind and fair, although strict man, who wasn't afraid to take on hormonal rage and drama. But right now, he probably wasn't the most pleasant man to be around. Or was it just because I was his latest victim? His arms were crossed, and his tiny glasses pressed all the way at the end of his nose. Give him a tall hat and a long beard and he'd be an angry Dumbledore! "Anything you want to say for yourself?"
I sighed. I honestly wanted to tell the truth. What they had done, just to see their shocked faces if I actually for once did tell the truth. But seriously, do you know how much trouble I would get into if I told the truth? As in getting my ass handed over to Homeland Security trouble!
But then again, I thought, as a brilliant idea struck me. This didn't have to be a bad thing.
"They started it," I defended myself with a smile, crossing my arms in front of me while sinking so deep into the chair as possible and stretching my legs out in front of me. "I just ended it."
I knew this irritated the shit out of him, but I kinda liked having the power over the Principal. I knew exactly what to say, to send him into a raging fit or blink and say sorry, turning him into pudding in my hands. Right now, I wanted him mad. I wanted to be sent home, so I could avoid Trevor. I didn't care about the cost.
"You beat the crape out of four freshmen boys," the Principal pointed out and held up a bunch of pictures that had been taken for insurance purposes. "It doesn't matter who started it."
Like a disappointed father, he slammed the papers down on his desk, probably hoping to make me flinch so I'd finally break down and tell the truth. But I'll never let my feelings show. So, all I did, was follow his moves, with a smirk on my face. As if I found this as funny as I kept telling myself that it was.
"Now, I'm only gonna ask this once and you better not lie to me," he continued, sitting down in his seat, trying to stare me down. Oh, a staring contest, I tried to humor myself, so I wouldn't have to look at the pictures in front of me or even the fact, that the man in front of me actually cared about me. He gave a damn about my well-being and believed I wasn't the monster I made myself out to be. And I was digging a sword into his chest.
"But have you had any sort of training? Like martial arts training?"
"No," I answered, not counting Dean's self-defense classes for 'martial art' or the fact that even as an omega, I was still stronger than your average human.
"Have you done drugs?"
"No."
"Don't you dear lie to me!"
"I never lie."
"Lesley," he warned me, hoping that a deeper and more threatening voice would work. "You always lie!"
"No. I. don't!" I barked back. What?! I didn't lie! "I just have a slightly more optimistic view of the truth."
I was shown out with a note in my hand. I looked at it once again, just to confirm that it was true, before sprinting down the halls.
"YES!"
I jumped down the stairs and hoped to be running home. The alpha command would last a week, and I just got myself suspended for a week! Which meant, that half the day, I could do whatever I wanted – which basically meant catching up on homework – and for the other half, I just needed to avoid Trevor until nightfall. And considering I knew his schedule; I knew exactly where not to be!
I was so caught up in my own celebration, that I didn't notice the car until it was too late. I was still airborne when my heart hit the deck. Fuck! This was gonna hurt.!
The car came to a screeching halt; brakes whining like a choirboy before finally coming to a full stop. I didn't watch my landing, so I fell flat on my face, only centimeters away from the blue hood. I literally could smell the gas and motor oil that got burned through, in order to stop.
I sighed in relief. Shit, that was close! And just as relief washed over me, it quickly was replaced with another feeling: anger! What. The. Fuck?! What was this car even doing here?! This was the path to our pack.
Outsiders were not allowed!
"Hey!" I yelled at the car stumbling back to my feet, making my hoody fall away from my face and revealing my long, curly blonds. I turned to the car, with fire in my eyes. "Watch it, asshole!"
I kicked the bumper. Childish, I know, but I was hoping it would make him turn around once he saw the dent I made. Guys and their toys, right?
For a split second, I made eye contact with the driver. Jerk! He was wearing sunglasses, but I knew he was looking back at me. Somehow, I could feel it. I don't know what it was – fear or rage – but even my wolf suddenly stirred uneasily in the back of my head. Ok, this is probably not the best time to just stand around.
Before the driver could react, I ran off and disappeared into the woods.
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8.8
The Offering of the Blood Moon
In the savage and intoxicating kingdom of the Legion, the Blood Moon does not simply rise it awakens a hunger that demands to be satisfied... by flesh, by fire, by fate.
Kiana was raised to hate the beasts and fear the shadows, to believe that being taken meant losing everything. But when she is torn from her village and delivered into the arms of Silas, the Alpha King, she discovers the truth is far more dangerous
Her greatest threat is not death.
It's the way her body betrays her in his presence.
Silas is dominance carved into living form iron muscle, quiet authority, and a darkness that wraps around her like a slow, suffocating promise. He is a king who does not ask, He takes,He commands, He owns, Yet the one woman who should fall at his feet dares to meet his gaze, challenge his control, and ignite something wild beneath his carefully restrained power.
And Silas... does not walk away from what tempts him.
Their connection is immediate. Violent. Addictive.
Every clash of words burns hotter than the last. Every step closer feels like crossing a line neither of them can uncross. The tension between them coils tight, thick with heat and unspoken hunger, until even the air feels too heavy to breathe.
In the quiet shadows of the royal chambers, where the moonlight spills like liquid silver across bare skin, resistance begins to crack. The scent of cedar and rain clings to him as he closes in, his presence overwhelming, his touch slow and deliberate-like he already knows exactly how she'll respond.
And she does.
Every time.
His hands don't just touch they linger. Claim. Promise.
Every brush of his lips is not gentle... it's consuming.
And when his mouth finds the sensitive curve of her neck, Kiana's defiance falters, her breath catching as something deeper, darker, and far more dangerous rises to the surface an aching, restless need she cannot fight, no matter how hard she tries.
Because this is not just desire.
It is a bond that burns.
A pull that tightens.
A hunger that refuses to be denied.
Yet the closer they get, the more dangerous the line becomes.
Between control... and surrender.
Between hatred... and craving.
Between captor... and something far more consuming.
Because under the Blood Moon, nothing is ever halfway.
And once you're claimed...
There is no escape.

7.6
I was arranging white lilies on the cold marble of my husband's grave when I saw a ghost.
Walking through the cemetery gates was a man who looked exactly like my dead husband, Dante.
Logic said it was his twin brother, Matteo. But a wife knows the slope of a man's shoulders. She knows the arrogant tilt of his chin.
My husband hadn't been blown up in a car bomb three years ago.
He had faked his death to steal his brother's rank, his fortune, and his mistress.
For three years, I had forced our son, Leo, to kiss a photograph goodnight. We lived in a damp, peeling apartment, surviving on the "charity" of the Family.
Meanwhile, Dante was living in a mansion, driving cars that cost more than my life, playing house with another woman.
When he came to our cramped apartment to drop off the monthly "pension" money, pretending to be Uncle Matteo, he didn't look at me with love. He looked at his watch.
When Leo ran to hug him, shouting "Papa," Dante peeled the boy's small arms off his expensive suit like he was removing a piece of lint.
"Don't call me that," he snapped. "I am your Uncle."
My grief turned into ice. He chose another woman's comfort over his own son's hunger.
I grabbed Leo's hand and walked out the door.
"You walk away, and you get nothing!" Dante shouted after me. "You'll be on the street!"
I didn't stop. I walked straight to the black SUV idling at the curb.
The window rolled down, revealing Salvatore Vitiello. The Don. The most lethal man in the city.
"Get in, Elena," he commanded.
I opened the door and slid onto the leather seat next to the devil himself.
As we drove away, leaving my husband in the dust, I realized I had just traded a liar for a killer.
And I didn't regret it for a second.

8.0
I was the perfect Mafia wife, my dowry the foundation of my husband's ambition. I paid for his Yale degree, his tailored suits, and the very mansion he called his own. My reward? He paraded his mistress into my bedroom and declared her his second wife, expecting me to silently finance their affair.
They thought they had broken a merchant's daughter. They forgot I was raised by wolves.
Armed with a blood chit—a life debt owed to my family by the most feared man in Chicago—I walked into the lion's den. I went to Damien 'The Wraith' Falcone, the Dark Don who rules the Outfit with an iron fist, to demand a simple annulment.
But the King of Chicago isn't interested in simple transactions. He saw the steel beneath my silk, the vendetta burning in my eyes. He granted me my freedom, but at a price: my allegiance. Now, I'm a pawn in his lethal game of thrones, caught between a treacherous husband I swore to destroy and a ruthless Don who looks at me with a terrifying, possessive hunger.
In a city built on loyalty and betrayal, I'm about to teach them all that a queen's wrath is the deadliest weapon of all.

7.3
e didn't come to stop my wedding to Daniel. He came to claim me for himself.
One moment I was walking toward "I do" - toward Daniel, my safe, predictable future. Next, his men stormed the church, and I was dragged from the altar in my lace dress, veil torn, dreams shattered. I became the prize of the most dangerous man in the city.
Eric Moretti. The Mafia King. Cold eyes. Sinful mouth. Hands that have ended lives... and now own mine.
"Daniel can't protect you," he growled against my ear that first night, locking me in his penthouse. "He never could. But me, Seraphina? I'll owe you. Cherish you. Destroy anyone who looks at you twice. You're mine now."
I fought him. I screamed. I clawed.
He pinned my wrists above my head and showed me exactly what resistance costs.
But somewhere between the silk sheets and the dangerous midnight confessions, hate began to blur with something far more terrifying-need. His touch sets my skin on fire. His voice commands my pulse. And when he looks at me like I'm the only light in his dark world, I forget Daniel's name. I forget I was ever meant to be someone else's bride.
"I should let you go," he admits one night, lips trailing down my throat. "Send you back to your safe little life with Daniel. But I'm a selfish bastard. And you... You've gotten under my skin, Bella."
But in his world, love is a death sentence. Enemies circle. Betrayal festers. And when they come for him, they'll have to go through me-the bride who stopped being a captive the moment I chose to stay.
They say the Mafia King has no heart. They're wrong. He gave it to me-and I'll burn this city down before I let anyone take it from him.me to add more tension between Eric and Daniel, or make Daniel a bigger threat?

9.3
"I was told I was a monster. My father told me I was a pawn. He didn't realize I was a Queen."
For seventeen years, Kaia has been locked in a gilded cage, hidden from the world and her own reflection. As the Kentrikos Territory's best-kept secret, she is the White Wolf-a myth, a legend, and a target. Now, her father is selling her to the highest bidder to secure his legacy.
The rules were simple: Choose a mate. Secure the alliance. Don't ask questions.
But as Kaia is paraded through the four territories to meet her potential Alphas, her sheltered existence begins to unravel. Her wolf, Selah, isn't looking for a mate-she's looking for blood. From the frozen wastes of the north to the high-tech laboratories of the west, Kaia uncovers a trail of secrets.
In a world of Alphas, the rarest wolf of all is done playing nice. Kaia must decide: will she be the submissive mate they expect, or the Alpha they should have feared?

7.4
As a princess who could not wield magic, Princess Daphne's only value to her kingdom was her arranged marriage. The task was simple, but when Daphne was kidnapped and brought to the cold mountains of Vramid, she realized that she was in over her head.
She had heard of these cursed mountains before― rocky terrain, freezing temperatures, and the land was ruled by a man feared by many within the continent.
King Atticus Heinvres, the blood-thirsty ruler of the North.
Even though she had never met him before, tales were spread of King Atticus's ruthlessness. Some said he was a monster, others claimed he was the devil himself, but whatever the story was, everyone knew of the man who had powers beyond anyone's imagination. He could topple armies and crumble nations with just one wave of his hand, aided by what others rumored to be a cursed obsidian ring.
No one outside of Vramid had ever met the fearsome king before. Not until Daphne.
However, upon meeting the formidable man, Daphne found out that the king might not really be the monster others had claimed him to be.
In fact, what was hidden under that obsidian shield could just be a diamond in the rough.
―
[Excerpt]
"Now... where should I put you both?" he asked casually, not expecting a reply. "It's regretful that I only have one chandelier."
"Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don't deserve this," Atticus mused to himself. "The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over... Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?"
"Atticus!" Daphne screamed. "I don't want any heads! Let them go."
"Fair enough." Atticus shrugged, and flicked his fingers.
There were two identical cracks as both necks snapped at once.
Daphne gasped, horrified. This man, her husband, had just killed two men with a flick of his finger, as though he was snuffing out candles.
"I told you to let them go!" Daphne cried out.
"Yes, I let them go," Atticus said. Then, his eyes darkened. "To receive divine judgment from the heavens."