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 8
Melissa.
I immediately stepped out of Cain's room and the darkness from the hallway hit me, but it felt blinding compared to the dungeon of humiliation I had just escaped. I barely had time to drag in a breath before I collided with a solid chest.
I stumbled backward and froze.
Cypril.
Of course.
Could my day get any better? The bitter thought scraped across my mind, raw and trembling.
Cypril's eyes darkened instantly. A dangerous glint flickered in them, cold, predatory, cruel. His jaw tensed, and before I could move away, his hand shot out. His fingers clamped around my chin roughly, jerking my face upward so hard it rattled my skull.
"Can't you watch where you're going?" he thundered, his voice echoing down the corridor like a trigger ready to explode.
He didn't wait for my response before tossing my chin to the side, as though even touching me left a stain on his skin. Pain flared down my jaw, joining the sea of agony already tormenting my battered body.
"I'm sorry, Alpha Cypril," I whispered quickly, my voice trembling. "I really didn't intend to bump into you."
My apology didn't matter.
His expression twisted-more fury, more disgust-and suddenly, he fisted my hair at the base of my skull. The move was violent and quick, and a scream lodged inside my throat as he yanked me forward.
My feet scrambled helplessly beneath me as he dragged me down the hall, towards his room, which was only two doors down from Cain's. Panic crawled up my spine like a thousand fire ants.
"YOU BITCH!" Cypril spat, slamming the door behind us. The sound cracked like thunder in my ears. "Stealing from your sister wasn't enough, now you want to hit me too?"
His voice dripped venom, every syllable slicing deeper than claws ever could.
He stood inches from me, staring straight into my eyes, daring me to speak, to explain, to breathe wrong. The air between us churned with rage, pain, and something darker, something I didn't understand and didn't want to.
I didn't respond.
Couldn't respond.
My mouth opened, closed, then remained still. My tongue felt glued to the roof of my mouth, heavy and useless. My body screamed in pain from the welts on my back, every breath a stretch of torn skin.
Cypril's nostrils flared.
"I am talking to you. You answer right away." His voice slithered low and lethal, more terrifying than when he shouted.
Still, no sound came out. Not even a whimper.
And that was enough.
In the blink of an eye, Cypril grabbed my jaw, not gently, not with warning, and crashed his mouth against mine.
My mind went blank.
The kiss wasn't a question, it was a punishment, a command, an invasion. His lips claimed mine with bruising pressure, his teeth scraping, his tongue forcing its way into my mouth. It wasn't passion, it was dominance, fierce and consuming.
I shuddered under him, my thoughts scattering like frightened birds. My hands trembled at my sides, debating between surrender and resistance. My heart hammered painfully, fear, anger, humiliation and yet somewhere beneath the storm, something treacherous fluttered.
Want.
No. Goddess no.
I fought against it, against him, against myself. I gathered the last scraps of my strength and pushed against his chest. My palms met muscle, unmoving, unyielding. He didn't budge an inch.
He only growled low in his throat, a beast satisfied by prey that dared struggle.
The kiss deepened, vicious now, like he was punishing me for daring to exist beneath him. My lungs burned as he gave me no space to breathe. His grip tightened, forcing my mouth open wider as if he wanted to consume every breath I owned.
I tasted iron.
Then blood.
My blood.
Cypril didn't stop, instead, he seemed to enjoy it, devouring the taste as though pain fed him. Every movement of his lips tore through me, through my thoughts, my identity, my sense of self.
And all I could do was stand there, body screaming, mind fracturing, caught between horror and the terrifying truth that some part of me responded even when I wished it didn't.
Cypril kissed like he had no mercy.
And I knew...
He wouldn't be done anytime soon.
It happened on instinct, one wild, desperate burst of strength that came from somewhere deeper than muscle or bone. With a strangled gasp, I shoved him away. My palms slipped against his chest, slick with nervous sweat, but the force was enough to create distance.
Cypril staggered half a step back.
I breathed hard. My lungs clawed for air like drowning creatures, my hands trembling violently. My fingers shot up to my lip, stinging, raw, pulsing with pain and came away stained with blood. Warm, thick, metallic.
My lips were already swelling, puffing beneath my touch. The heat radiating from them contrasted painfully against the chill of terror coursing through me.
I was still dazed, gently running my thumb over the torn skin, trying to understand what had just happened, when Cypril moved again.
Not a kiss this time.
A strike.
His hand cracked across my face so hard my ears rang. My head snapped to the side and for a moment the edges of the world flickered white, like lightning behind my eyes. Then pain bloomed, sharp at first, then hot, then throbbing.
I froze.
My cheek burned. Tears spilled instantly, sliding down in hot, helpless trails. They clung to my jaw, dripping slowly, like a betrayal my body performed without permission.
He had kissed me, violently, possessively, not even a minute ago. And now he hit me like I was nothing. A thing. A toy to be claimed, crushed, thrown.
How ironic.
I wasn't a mate, or a woman, or even a wolf to him.
Just an object he could devour and then destroy for sport.
"You don't get to decide when I stop!" Cypril roared, taking a furious step toward me. His voice vibrated through the room, bouncing off the walls, drilling into my skull. "You hear me?"
My breath came in shudders. I forced my gaze upward, meeting his eyes through a haze of tears. The room swam slightly, my vision distorted as though I were underwater.
"Yes, Alpha Cypril," I whispered.
My voice cracked, breaking on the words like they were too heavy to carry. The admission tasted like ash.
The tears kept falling, hot and endless. I swallowed them along with the ache in my throat. I wondered, distantly, if this was what my life would become, pain, humiliation, obedience to men who hated me yet refused to let me go.
Would every breath be controlled by their whims? Would every moment blur into fear and shame?
My thoughts tumbled, disjointed, broken. My wolf whimpered deep inside me, curling inward, wounded in ways the whip could never reach.
Just then, the sharp creak of the door sliced through the tension.
The knob turned. The frame hit the wall.
And Caleb slid inside.
He paused just past the threshold, taking in the scene-Cypril seething, me trembling, blood streaking my swollen lips.
His expression changed, though I couldn't decipher what emotion flashed across his face.
My stomach dropped.
Things could only get worse from here.
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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.