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 7
Melissa.
Bella's hands were firm but gentle as she supported me along the corridor. Each step was agony, each movement sending shocks of pain through my already battered body. My legs wobbled beneath me, trembling like they might give out at any moment. I leaned heavily into her, trusting the strength of my wolf to keep me upright, to guide me forward when my body refused to obey.
"Sorry, Melissa." Bella's voice was soft, laced with genuine sorrow. Her brow furrowed as she glanced down at my bruised and bloodied form. "I wish I could help you. Those jerks of an Alpha are clearly useless. Who the hell beats their mate?"
Her words made my chest tighten even more. She didn't understand, not fully, but she felt the raw injustice of it. I wanted to tell her it wasn't her fault, that none of this was, but my voice barely came out, dry and weak.
"Ssshhhhhh!" I hissed, gripping her arm lightly to make her lean in closer. "They might hear you." My heart raced at the thought of someone overhearing. If anyone reported her concern, if someone thought she was conspiring against the Alphas, I couldn't bear to imagine what would happen to her. I wouldn't survive seeing her suffer the same cruelty.
She nodded quickly, lowering her voice as we continued forward, her fingers tightening around my arm in support. I could feel her worry radiating through every small motion, and it gave me a tiny, fragile comfort in the midst of all the chaos and pain.
When we reached my room, I collapsed onto the bed with a thud that made the mattress groan beneath me. My body was a map of pain, every muscle tight, every nerve alive with memories of the whips and the humiliation. My back burned like fire, raw and throbbing, and my limbs felt like lead. I had survived, but barely.
Bella didn't hesitate. She set to work immediately, moving to my side with an ease that came from practice and care. Her hands glided over my shoulders, massaging gently at first, then more firmly as she tried to ease the knots and tension. She pulled a small jar of balm from her bag, rubbing it between her hands before pressing it against the raw tears in my flesh.
The sting hit instantly, sharp and biting, a cruel reminder of the punishment my body had endured. I bit my lip to keep from crying out, tears streaming freely despite my effort. "It... it hurts," I murmured, though my voice was hollow and strained.
"I know," Bella whispered, leaning close as if her own presence could shield me. "I know it hurts, but this will help. I promise."
I closed my eyes against the pain, letting her hands soothe where I could. My wolf shifted restlessly inside me, her anger and confusion mingling with mine, but even she seemed to relax slightly under Bella's care.
We hadn't even gone halfway through the treatment when a soft knock sounded at the door. A maid stepped in, bowing slightly as she spoke.
"Ma'am Melissa, Alpha Cain asked you to come to his room immediately."
The words froze me in place. My chest constricted, and my heart skipped a beat. Now what? I thought. I could barely stand, barely breathe without wincing. And now Cain wanted me, again.
The maid lingered for a moment, looking uncertain, before she retreated quietly. I had no choice. I couldn't stay, couldn't avoid it, no matter how terrified I felt. Pain and exhaustion weighed on me like stones, but I forced myself up. Each step toward the door was agony, each movement a battle against my broken body.
Leaning heavily on Bella, I managed to stand, the sting of balm mixing with the ache of my muscles, the raw tenderness of my back screaming with each motion. My wolf, restless and protective, moved within me, guiding my steps even as my body threatened to betray me entirely.
I drew in a shaky breath, glancing briefly at Bella. She gave me a small, encouraging nod, and I nodded back weakly, steeling myself. Then, with what little strength I could muster, I left my room and headed toward Cain's, each step heavier than the last, each one filled with fear and dread at what awaited me.
I pushed the door open carefully, putting my head down despite the aching pain in my back. "Alpha Cain, you called for me."
The first thing I noticed was the sound, a soft giggle, followed by the low murmurs of a girl's voice. My eyes looked up for just a few seconds, and what I saw stopped me in my tracks.
Amelia was there, tangled in Cain's arms on the bed, her silky robe slipping off one shoulder, his shirt was open, his muscular chest on full display, as he leaned into her, his lips brushing her neck.
I swallowed hard, my eyes darted back to the floor, waiting for him to acknowledge my presence and state his reasons for calling me.
"Look up!" He commanded.
I slowly looked up and what I saw next was the wildly intimate moment between them, he kissed Amelia deeply and even moaned in between the kisses before pulling away. Amelia straddling his lap, her fingers tangled lazily in his hair as she trailed kisses down the side of his neck. Their soft giggles and breathy whispers filled the space, mocking, taunting, crushing the air right out of my lungs.
The fuck, did he call me here just to watch him get intimate with my sister?
My stomach twisted violently, my throat thickening until breathing hurt. I tried,goddess, I tried to keep a blank expression. To pretend I didn't care, to pretend the sight didn't slice straight through my soul like a blade. But the pain in my chest surged up like a force I could no longer contain. I felt tears burn hot at the corner of my eyes, then spill freely before I could blink them away.
My heart dropped to the floor.
I jerked my head aside, desperate and pathetic, to hide my humiliation. I wiped at my cheeks quickly, angrily, scrubbing away the tears, hoping he had been too distracted to notice.
I was too late.
Cain's eyes snapped toward me.
His entire posture changed. He tossed Amelia aside carelessly like she was nothing more than a discarded coat and sprang to his feet. His steps thundered across the room, closing the distance between us in seconds.
His fingers gripped my chin harshly, forcing my head up so I could look directly into his storm-dark eyes. Dread rooted itself deep inside me, cold and suffocating, paralyzing me where I stood. The cruel smirk curling at the corner of his lips only made it worse.
"Are you aware where you belong now?" he asked slowly, savoring each word like poison honey. He sounded pleased, satisfied with himself, satisfied with my pain.
I couldn't speak. My throat was dry, choked, locked with shame and fear and something far worse, betrayal.
His thumb brushed the wet trail along my cheek. At first the touch was strangely gentle, almost tender but that illusion shattered when his expression twisted. He lifted the dampness on his fingers and, with malicious delight, licked my tears off his skin.
My stomach clenched. Disgust and terror swirled together inside me.
"I am not done with you yet, Melissa," he murmured, his voice low and venom-sweet. "I will make you wish you weren't chosen by the Moon Goddess."
Pain-humiliation-anger-none of it mattered. I stood frozen, held in place by his grip on my chin and the cruel promise in his eyes.
Then, with a shove, not enough to throw me down, but enough to remind me how little control I had, he pushed me back.
His voice thundered across the room like a command from hell itself.
"GET. OUT."
My knees threatened to buckle, but instinct took over. I turned and fled before my tears betrayed me again, before my heart cracked open any wider, before the Moon Goddess could watch me fall apart.
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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.