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 9
MELISSA.
"Hey, Melissa... Did you just seduce my brother?" Caleb's voice sliced through the silence like a blade, low and taunting, yet dripping with false innocence.
His eyes dragged slowly over my face, locking on my lips, swollen, split, smeared with a faint trace of blood. The sight told a thousand stories, none of them in my favor.
Heat flooded my cheeks, shame spreading through me like poison.
"I..." My throat tightened. The word scraped painfully out of me, barely a whisper. "I..."
I choked on the sentence, tongue thick and uncooperative.
What could I possibly say?
Explain?
They wouldn't believe me.
Defend myself?
They'd twist it.
I opened my mouth again, desperate to speak, but the sound died as footsteps echoed down the hallway.
Cain strode in, Amelia nestled in his arms as though she belonged nowhere else. Her body rested fully against him, her arms draped possessively around his neck, his hand gliding lazily around her waist as if he couldn't bear to let her go.
Their closeness stole the oxygen from my lungs.
Amelia's eyes widened, taking in the scene, my flushed face, the welt swelling on my cheek, Cypril standing much too close, Caleb leaning casually against the wall as if watching theater.
"What just happened here?" she asked, her voice soft yet edged with sharp curiosity.
Her gaze flicked to Cypril, then to my trembling hands, then back again.
Before I could gather courage enough to speak, Cypril stepped forward, shoulders relaxed, expression cool, as though nothing had happened, as though he hadn't pinned me against a wall moments earlier.
"Why don't you ask this slut?" he drawled.
The word hit like another blow.
My knees wobbled. My vision pinpricked black at the edges.
A sly smile curled at Cypril's lips, a smile that said I dare you to deny me.
"She forced herself on me," he finished, voice ringing with practiced confidence.
The room spun.
I felt every eye on me-Caleb's amused, Cyrus's unreadable, Amelia's gleaming with something disturbingly close to satisfaction, Cain's dark and cold.
My head moved before my voice could form. I shook vigorously, desperate, panicked.
"N-no. I didn't," I gasped, words tumbling out unevenly. "I swear...I didn't..."
My chest squeezed painfully as humiliation choked me. My heart pounded against my ribs hard enough to bruise. Everything inside me screamed to run, to claw out of my own skin, to vanish.
"Are you calling my brother a liar?" Cain's voice thundered.
The disgust in his tone was unmistakable, thick, suffocating, dripping from each syllable like venom. He stared at me with open hatred, as if merely looking at me offended him.
Amelia pressed herself closer against him, a slow smile creeping across her lips, not pity, not concern, triumph.
I lowered my gaze, the weight of their judgment hammering down mercilessly. Tears stung the corners of my eyes, threatening to fall. My lips trembled as I sucked in a shaky breath.
"No," I whispered, voice strangled and breaking apart. "I'm not..."
But the sentence dissolved before it could be completed. My words meant nothing here. The air was thick with decisions already made, sides already chosen, truth already discarded.
In that moment, I realized something terrifying: It didn't matter that I was innocent. They had already decided I was guilty. And no amount of pleading would change that.
"You dare have the nerve to seduce Cypril, Melissa." Cain's voice wasn't shouted, yet it was more terrifying than a roar, low, controlled, strained, like a beast holding himself back from tearing something apart with his bare hands.
His eyes burned into me, murder simmering beneath the surface, his jaw clenched so tight a vein pulsed in his neck.
My stomach twisted. I felt every inch of my skin crawl under that glare.
Caleb let out a short, cruel laugh, pushing himself lazily off the wall before leaning back again as if the whole moment amused him.
"No matter how you throw your body around, Melissa," he drawled, lips curling upward, "we wouldn't want you."
His eyes swept down my body with disdain so sharp I flinched.
"You are nothing but a disgrace," he continued, stretching the word as if savoring it, "and you are totally...utterly....disgusting."
Each syllable fell heavier than the last, hammering my already shattered heart.
"Honestly, you have no shame at all."
Cain spat the words, taking a step toward me. "You know we are engaged to your sister now," he emphasized with venom, "and you dare show off your body to us?"
The accusation struck like a knife.
I hadn't shown anything, not intentionally, not ever.
"Doesn't that make you a whore?" Caleb cut in, voice rising sharply, the insult thrown at me like a slap.
A ripple of gasps echoed around us.
Only then did I realize we weren't alone.
The housemaids had begun to gather, curious, eager, hungry for drama. Their wide eyes and whispering mouths sliced through me in ways the whip hadn't.
Heat flooded my cheeks, shame crawled up my throat and settled in my lungs, making it hard to breathe. I wrapped my arms around myself, wishing desperately for the floor to split open and swallow me whole.
A sob rose in my chest, and I bit hard on my lip, trying, failing, to choke it down.
Tears blurred my vision, spilled hot and unstoppable down my cheeks.I couldn't hold them back anymore.Not when every word they threw at me felt like claws ripping me open.
"Then... reject me!" The words flew out before I could stop them, raw, desperate, torn from the deepest part of my pain.
Silence crashed over the room like a thunderclap. I saw the way Amelia stiffened in Cain's arms, and Caleb's smirk vanished, Cypril froze mid-breath.
And the triplets turned toward me, slowly as though the air itself had shifted.Their faces darkened, shadows creeping into their expressions. Rage burning through them.
The kind that promised I had just spoken the one sentence I should never have dared to voice.
In that heartbeat, I realized rejection, what I had prayed for moments before, might not be mercy.
It might be a fate worse than anything I'd endured yet, but I didn't mind.
"Reject me already! Free me from this bond!" I said loudly.
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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.