MATED TO THREE DESPISED BY ALL
I am Melissa Copper, chosen by the moon goddess as the fated mate of the Alpha triplets.
But they cruelly discarded me, choosing my twin sister over me at the Alpha's coronation ceremony.
They despised me, that I know, I have always seen it in their eyes, but the mate bond keeps drawing me closer to them.
Now, I have decided to leave, to end the whole circus. But when I begged them to reject me, they wouldn't do it.
They wouldn't let me go...
****
"Melissa, please come back to us!" They all echoed in unison.
"We want you...We have always wanted you!" Caleb said softly, his voice trailing off his breath, as he pinned me to the wall.
"We promise to treat you right!" Cypril said, his breath warm and ticklish against my fingers that he brought up to his lips.
"You will always be ours. Just come back already!" Cain's pleading eyes met mine as he leaned in, pressing a kiss on my lips, his hands tracing the corner of my ear.
"No," I said, my voice louder than I had expected it to be, with their bodies pressed against mine and their lips creating sparks across my body.
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Chapter 4
Melissa.
"You shameless bitch!"
My father's voice thundered through the room, shaking the walls and my already fragile resolve. His eyes were locked on me, blazing with fury and disgust, as if I were something filthy that had stained his life. Before I could even lift my head, his hand swung.
The impact came fast and brutal.
Pain exploded across my face as his palm connected with my cheek, snapping my head to the side. My ears rang, my vision blurring for a moment as his words followed the blow, sharp and merciless.
"Why can't you just be like your sister?"
That question again.
It echoed in my mind, familiar and cruel, a sentence I had heard my entire life. I swallowed hard, tasting blood at the corner of my mouth as I stared at the floor. No matter how hard I tried, no matter what I did, I never fit. I was always lacking, always wrong, always the disappointment standing beside perfection.
My father paced in front of me like an enraged beast.
"You nearly cost me my head!" he roared. "Even the Alpha triplets couldn't withstand you! Do you know what would have happened if your sister wasn't in our lives?"
His words pressed down on me, heavy and suffocating. My hands trembled where they rested on my lap, but I stayed silent, my knees aching against the cold floor. I had been ordered to kneel the moment the ceremony ended, instructed not to move, not to speak.
I was still here because my punishment had not yet been decided.
Because, as they said, I had failed the family.
"She has always been a disaster, Dad!"
Fredrick's voice cut in harshly, filled with venom. I lifted my eyes just enough to meet his glare, a look so full of hatred it felt like it could pierce straight through me. There was no brotherly warmth there, no hesitation, only accusation.
I lowered my gaze again.
My body felt heavy, exhausted from holding in everything I wasn't allowed to express. Every muscle screamed in protest, but I stayed kneeling, just as they wanted, just as I had been taught.
Then Amelia spoke.
"Dad, please calm down. It isn't Melissa's fault."
Her voice was soft, gentle, wrapped in false kindness. It floated through the tension like a balm, and I felt every pair of eyes shift toward her. When I dared to glance up, I saw the expression on her face, a smile so carefully composed it could easily be mistaken for concern.
"Let's leave her, Dad," she continued sweetly. "I forgive her for stealing my necklace. The family is safe for now."
Those words did it.
I barely had time to flinch before another sharp sound cracked through the air. My head snapped sideways as pain erupted anew, hotter and more stinging than before.
My mother.
Luisa's hand had struck me hard, her eyes cold and unforgiving.
"How dare you steal your sister's necklace?" she demanded, her voice trembling with outrage. "How dare you shame this family even further?"
The room spun slightly as I fought to steady my breathing. My cheek burned. My jaw ached. But I said nothing.
There was no point.
I didn't try to explain. I didn't deny it. I didn't cry out in protest. I simply knelt there in silence, my head bowed, my hands clenched tightly to keep them from shaking.
Because I knew the truth.
They would never believe me.
No matter what I said, no matter how loudly I screamed my innocence, it would always be drowned out by Amelia's soft words, by their need for me to be the villain. I was the easy one to blame, the family's burden, the disaster they all agreed upon.
So I stayed quiet.
And let their judgment fall on me like it always did.
"Amelia, darling, there is no need to go soft on her."
My brother's voice cut through the room with practiced ease, smooth and confident, as if he were stating an obvious truth. He moved closer to Amelia, slipping an arm around her and pulling her into his chest, holding her like something fragile and precious. Like a baby that needed shielding.
"She deserves to be punished," Fredrick continued, his gaze flicking toward me briefly, filled with disdain. "Maybe then she'll finally learn how to act the right way."
The words settled heavily in the air, final and condemning.
"But Fredrick..." Amelia began, her voice hesitant, almost pleading, as though she were torn between mercy and duty.
She never finished.
My father straightened, his expression hardening into something cold and unyielding. When he spoke, his voice carried authority, no room for debate, no space for mercy.
"According to the family book of law," he said firmly, "Melissa is to be whipped thirty strokes."
The sentence fell like a death knell.
Before I could even process the meaning of his words, before fear could fully take shape in my chest, he turned and walked out of the room. Just like that. As if my fate had been nothing more than a line to be read aloud and forgotten.
The room seemed to freeze for a heartbeat.
Then everything moved at once.
In a split second, the guards stepped forward. Strong hands seized my arms, their grip unrelenting as they yanked me to my feet. My knees nearly buckled beneath me, the sudden movement sending a jolt of pain through my body.
I didn't resist.
What was the point?
They dragged me toward the door, my feet barely touching the ground as I struggled to keep my balance. The murmurs behind me faded, replaced by the heavy sound of boots and my own uneven breathing.
"Wait!"
Amelia's voice rang out suddenly.
The guards didn't stop, but I felt a tug in my chest as I realized she was following us. She rushed after me, her footsteps light and hurried, as if she truly cared.
"Melissa, I am so sorry," she said, leaning in close as we paused briefly in the corridor. Her face was inches from mine, her eyes wide, her expression filled with what looked like remorse.
For a moment, I almost believed it.
Then she lowered her voice, her lips brushing near my ear, the sound barely more than a whisper.
"The Alpha triplets have always been mine," she murmured softly. "You should have known your place. Think of this as a little gift of mine."
The words slid into me like poison.My heart shattered quietly, painfully, piece by
piece.
Amelia straightened, her expression shifting in an instant. The sorrow vanished, replaced by calm satisfaction. She reached out, brushing at my clothes as if removing invisible dirt, her fingers light and dismissive.
Then she turned her back on me.
Without another word, she walked away, her steps unhurried as she headed back inside, back to warmth, safety, and victory.
I was left standing there, restrained by the guards, being dragged forward again, down a path I hadn't chosen, toward a punishment I could not escape. My chest felt hollow, my spirit weighed down by misery and the cruel reality of my fate.
Why was I so unfortunate?
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8.5
Everyone knew Caroline loved Jacob, the frail man in a wheelchair, even giving up her chance at marrying into wealth for him.
She devoted everything to his recovery, enduring hardship and humiliation to help him stand again.
When he finally recovered, they were praised as perfect together-until danger came.
Faced with saving her or her sister, Jacob chose the latter without hesitation. Only in her final moments did Caroline realize his heart was never hers.
Reborn, she made a different choice, choosing power over love.
When Jacob later begged, she looked down coldly. "I have no interest in men who can't stand on their own."
7.8
"This isn't right..." I whispered.
But my stepbrothers wouldn't let me go.
"You're ours now," Sylver said quietly. "And that's not going to change."
My mother and I have been running for three years-from Eryndor Blackshade, the vampire cult leader obsessed with finding me.
Just when he finds us again, my mother makes a desperate move: she marries King Reid Thornevale, the most powerful Lycan in the Blood Hollow Pack.
But Reid comes with a dangerous secret-triplet hybrid sons, born of vampire and werewolf blood. They're ruthless, cursed... and now, my stepbrothers. From the moment Sylver, Cassian, and Rylan Thornevale lay eyes on me, something ancient stirs-twisted, forbidden, and hungry.
A fire that scorches morality and melts all reason. Our connection isn't just wrong. It's deadly. Because the Thornevale bloodline is cursed, descendants of Elder Varek, the first vampire–werewolf hybrid, were sealed away centuries ago.
The curse awakens under every Red Moon, turning them into monsters driven by bloodlust and desire. Now I'm caught in the middle. Between a cult that wants to sacrifice me... And stepbrothers who want to claim me. And I don't know which fate will destroy me first.
7.5
I am the biological daughter of the wealthy Fitzpatrick family, but I spent my childhood eating out of dumpsters.
When I was finally brought back to the estate at age seven, I thought I would experience my parents' love.
Instead, my biological parents looked at my dirty clothes with raw disgust. They only cared about Hallie, the fake daughter who lived like a princess.
The moment I walked in, Hallie hurled a heavy ceramic cup at my head, slicing my hand open.
"Get out of my house!"
My father didn't even look at the blood. He raised his hand to strike me, accusing me of bringing trailer park rules into his home.
In my past life, I dropped to my knees and begged for their forgiveness. I endured their abuse, hoping they would eventually love me.
But they let the maids humiliate me, let Hallie steal my identity, and eventually threw me back onto the streets to die. Even my playboy Uncle Byron, the only person who ever showed me mercy, was driven to suicide by them.
I didn't understand why my own flesh and blood hated me so much, or why a vicious liar deserved everything while I was treated like a jinx.
Opening my eyes again, I was back on the exact day I first returned to the estate.
As my father raised his hand to hit me, I didn't cower.
Instead, I looked at the family patriarch and pointed directly at my notorious, alcoholic uncle.
"I want him to be my new guardian."
7.8
I thought I had found my savior in Alpha Camron after my adoptive family was brutally slaughtered.
But as I lay chained to the damp dungeon wall, my inner wolf silenced by silver poison, he sneered and rejected me.
"Did you really think I loved you? You were just a dumb, loyal dog."
He confessed that he had orchestrated my family's murder to frame Lycan King Asher.
Blinded by his lies, I had plunged a silver blade into Asher's heart—the only man standing in Camron's way to the throne.
My step-sister Erica then arrived to deliver the final, crushing blows.
"He was your true fated mate, Ella," she whispered with sadistic glee. "He loved you so much he retracted his aura, leaving himself defenseless so you wouldn't get hurt killing him."
Worse, she laughed at my swollen belly, revealing the baby I carried wasn't Camron's. He had paid a filthy Rogue to defile me in the dark.
The man I murdered was the other half of my soul, and the monster I trusted had destroyed everything I loved.
My heart simply gave out, drowning in an abyss of pure agony and hatred.
Opening my eyes again, the stench of burning flesh was gone.
I was back in my attic bedroom on my fifteenth birthday.
Today was the day my evil stepmother would start her deadly plot.
This time, I would tear them all apart.
7.2
I was dying in a rusted warehouse, paralyzed in a wheelchair while the man I loved and my own stepsister watched with smiles on their faces. The air smelled of old oil and damp concrete, and my vision was fading into a milky haze.
Dillon, the man I’d sacrificed everything for, smoothed his custom suit and pulled out a syringe filled with a clear, lethal neurotoxin. Beside him, my stepsister Bianca toyed with my mother’s sapphire ring—the one they’d just pried off my hand while I was too weak to even make a fist.
She leaned in and whispered that my father’s trust fund was already offshore and that they’d sent my husband, Kade, to the wrong coordinates to ensure he’d only find my corpse. Dillon slid the needle into my vein with the chilling efficiency of a man who had done this before.
"This will stop your heart in thirty seconds," he said, sounding as bored as if he were explaining a tax form. Ice flooded my chest, and my lungs seized, fighting for oxygen that wasn't there. As the warehouse lights blurred into white streaks, an explosion echoed in the distance. Kade had come for me, but he was too late.
I died staring at the ceiling, my heart giving one last violent kick of pure, unadulterated hatred. I had been such a fool, believing Dillon’s lies and running away from the only man who actually cared for me. I died with a single thought: if I ever get another chance, I will drag you both to hell with me.
Then, there was nothing. And then, there was air.
I sat up gasping, my silk pajamas drenched in cold sweat. The rusted beams were gone, replaced by a vaulted ceiling and the glittering Manhattan skyline. I grabbed the digital clock on the nightstand—it was five years ago, the exact night I first tried to run away with Dillon.
The bedroom door slammed against the wall, and Kade Mullen stood in the doorway, looking dangerous, furious, and very much alive. I looked at my shaking hands, then at the man I had once hated. This time, I wasn't going to run. I was going to make sure Dillon and Bianca lost everything.
8.8
Alaia Dudley spent her life playing the devoted partner, completely unaware that her fiancé Austen was sleeping with another woman.
She thought the worst he could do was break her heart, until she found herself pinned to a cold operating table.
Austen held her down with a cruel smirk while a scalpel sliced through her sternum.
They cracked her chest open while she was still fully conscious.
The agonizing pain of her heart being cut out burned into her nerve endings.
She realized then that to him, she was never a lover—just a spare organ, a boring piece of wood to be discarded the second his true love needed it.
She died in excruciating agony, choking on her own blood while the man she loved walked away with her heart.
Until her last breath, she didn't understand why she had to suffer so brutally.
Why did she waste her life begging for a monster's attention? Why did they get a happy ending while she was carved up like an animal?
But then, ice-cold water flooded her lungs, and Alaia violently broke the surface of her bathwater.
Her trembling fingers touched her smooth, flawless chest. No scars. Her heart was still beating.
The date on her phone glared back at her: it was exactly five years ago.
Tonight was the exact night Austen first took his mistress to a hotel room.
This time, she wouldn't just expose them. She would use Wall Street's most terrifying tyrant as her personal weapon to strip them of everything they had.