My Mate Rejects Me For Her Sister's Mate

I'm Andrew, a wolf with "skin hunger".All I've ever craved is closeness. But for three cold years, my bonded mate Sophia, who's terrified of germs, only had eyes for Daniel, her sister Grace's mate. When I tried to get near her once, she sneered, "What, are you that desperate?" I found her workshop stuffed with Daniel's sculptures, and that's when I knew-I signed the bond-breaking papers . At an auction, I heard Daniel admit, "Sophia's my backup-she thinks I saved her." Then he had my vas deferens cut. Later, Sophia learned I was the one who'd saved her that day. When I bonded with my childhood friend Stella, Sophia begged, "Give me another chance!" I told her, "I don't love you anymore." Daniel attacked me, but Sophia took a dagger for me. Later, I got a letter from her: "Wishing you happiness." I hugged Stella tight-finally, I felt whole.

Chapters

Chapter 2

Six years.

That's how long Sophia and I had been caught up in this thing.

Once upon a time, I was a college pup in Belmor Town, still a little shaky in my own skin. My roommate and I had gone out into the woods and gotten lost.

No signal, nothing but woods.

The only sound was my pulse beating wildly in my ears.

Running down a hill, slipping on all the rocks, and for just an instant I thought I was going to land, head first on the rocks, when something pulled me around. Sophia.

Her eyes were as cold as the mountain lake, bright enough to part the fear in my heart out, the voice sharp like the frost.

"You all right?"

I couldn't speak. My heart was beating so great, from the fall and from the scent that swirled all around me, warm. Wild.

The thing was, I think that my bones recognized it for all that. I was gone.

My ankle turned, so that she led me down the hill.

Took me in to the pack's healer.

I wanted to know her name. I wanted the number anyhow so I could thank her.

No, she sent me away.

I went right on. I was after her like a wolf trail bound from the hunting grounds. Showing myself at her tennis matches, now giving so large an appreciation to my own jokes at the cause they were dully good jokes, tried to melt the ice about her. Nothing. I found that the harder I ran after her, the more she pulled away from m.

Two years of that, and I was ready to let go. I was graduating, heading back to my pack, done chasing a she-wolf who didn't want me. Then, out of nowhere, she showed up outside my dorm. "Wanna form a sacred bond with me?" she asked.

Fireworks exploded in my chest. I said yes before she could blink, thinking she'd just been shy, that she felt something after all.

I was wrong.

After we bound ourselves, she wouldn't touch me.

I figured it was her germ thing, that she'd warm up eventually.

I tried everything-gifts, surprises, patience-hoping she'd let me in. Instead, she dodged me like I was a rabid beast.

Seeing her with that statue of Daniel, her body pressed against it, her voice thick with want? That was the final blow. She didn't just not love me-she loved someone else.

When I got home, eyes red and raw, I found her back from the old house, rifling through our safe.

She glanced at me.

"Where's that belt my mom gave you?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat, dug out the million-dollar from the bottom of the safe, and handed it over. It was a gift from her mom, Catherine, when we set our binding date.

"What's it for?" I asked.

She inspected it. "Daniel's got a fancy dinner tonight. Needs something sharp. You don't wear it anyway, so it'll look good on him."

My stomach twisted. "But your mom gave it to me."

It wasn't about the watch. I didn't wear it because it was too precious, not because I didn't care. And it was part of a couple's set-her and Daniel wearing them together? That'd raise eyebrows.

Her eyes flashed with annoyance.

"It's a Lewis pack heirloom. Daniel's bound to our pack through my sister. It should've been his. Mom shouldn't have given it to you."

I went quiet. The Lewis pack and my Johnson pack are equals, and Catherine had approved of me, gifting us that with a smile. Daniel, though? He's a lowborn wolf who lucked into the Lewis pack through Sophia's sister.

Catherine never liked him.

Sophia grabbed the watch and strode out, tossing over her shoulder, "Don't make a thing of it. I'll get you another watch at the auction in a couple days to make up for it."

Before, I'd have been over the moon at the thought of her taking me to an auction, picking out a gift. Now? I just clenched my fists, bitterness flooding my chest.

Whatever. We were breaking the bond soon.

Continue to next part

The neurosurgeon looked at me with pity, delivering a diagnosis that severed seven years of devotion in a heartbeat. According to the scans, my husband, Dante Rizzoli, remembered how to strip a Glock blindfolded and launder millions. He just didn't remember loving me. Overnight, I went from being the cherished Mafia Princess to an unwanted stranger in my own penthouse. While I filled our home with his favorite lilies trying to spark a memory, Dante brought home Gia. She was loud, tacky, and draped over him like a cheap suit. The Capo had forgotten his wife, but he seemed to remember his lust perfectly fine. I swallowed the humiliation, clinging to the hope of his recovery, until I stood outside his office door with a tray of espresso. I heard his dark, amused laugh rumbling through the wood. "The amnesia is the most useful card I've ever played," Dante told his soldier. "It buys me time to enjoy Gia without the family breathing down my neck. Elena is a boring, safe relic. I need fire, not a porcelain doll." My heart didn't race. It stopped. The medical anomaly was a lie. He hadn't forgotten me; he was just done with me. I set the tray down silently. I wasn't going to wait for him to remember anymore. I walked out of the penthouse and dialed a number I hadn't used in years. "Get the new ID ready," I whispered into the phone. "Elena Vitiello dies tonight. Livia Moretti leaves at dawn."

Mafia Modern Romance

9.1

His biker girl, Her biker prince

9.1

He lifted his hand and brushed a strand of hair from my face, fingers grazing too gently. I snapped, "How many times do I have to tell you not to touch me?" His mouth curved, the faintest smirk. "You walked in here looking like a fucking temptation. And you think I'm not supposed to touch?" I tilted my chin, refusing to back down. "Funny. I thought you said I didn't look good." He leaned closer, voice low, eyes burning through me. "You don't look good. You look dangerous." My chest tightened, heat crawling under my skin. I rolled my eyes, masking the pull I refused to admit. "Get lost," I muttered, shoving against him. "You're mine, Tessa," ****** His Biker Girl | swore l'd never get tangled up with bikers. Then I met him. Jason "Viper" Kane, the ruthless prince of the Black Serpents. Arrogant. Untouchable. Dangerous. Every girl on campus wants him, but not me. He thought I'd be easy to break. He was wrong. Her Biker Prince She's fire wrapped in leather, and every time she rides, she tempts me closer to the edge. Tessa Monroe, bold, defiant, impossible to control. I wanted to crush her pride, ruin that ego, make her beg. But the more I chase her, the more I burn. She's the one thing I shouldn't want. And the only thing l'll never let go.

Action Mafia Young Adult

7.8

Not For Sale: The Debt Is Paid

7.8

Seven years. That was the price tag attached to my father's life. When my father gambled away money he didn't have, Michael Vance paid the debt. He bought my father's safety, and in return, he bought me. I was nineteen then. A peasant girl he polished up to look like a mob wife. I was reapplying my lipstick in the vanity mirror of his armored SUV when I found a diamond choker tucked behind the sunshade. It was a million-dollar piece of jewelry that wasn't mine, engraved with a date that wasn't my birthday. That night at the gala, Michael threw his mistress's heavy fur coat at me. "Hold this, Sarah. Jessica gets hot easily." I stood there like a servant, buried under the scent of another woman’s perfume, watching my fiancé hold her on the dance floor with a tenderness he never showed me. When I stumbled from hunger, he called me a liability to his image. But when Jessica faked a crisis, he abandoned me at the venue to rush her home. I walked to the nearest trash can and shoved the expensive fur down past the half-eaten caviar. As the sugar from a cheap candy bar hit my bloodstream, the fog lifted. I realized I wasn't a wife-in-training. I was a debt that had been paid in full. I left the penthouse, the ring, and the life. But Michael wouldn't let his property go. He cornered me in a parking garage, screaming that I belonged to him, threatening to start a war. He didn't expect me to be standing next to David Chen, the Underboss of the rival Triad faction. And he certainly didn't expect me to take off my Louboutin stiletto and use it as a weapon. "I don't love you, Michael," I said, looking him in the eye as he knelt on the concrete. "And I'm not for sale anymore."

Mafia Modern Romance

9.2

Reborn As The Devil's Bride

9.2

After a sudden death, Elena awakens as the wife of the city's most feared mafia boss. Trapped in a marriage she never asked for, she must navigate a world of violence and betrayal. Her new husband is a cold, lethal predator, yet a dangerous attraction begins to pull them together. As secrets from her past emerge, Elena has to decide if she will escape the devil’s grasp or embrace her new life as the queen of his dark empire.

Action Mafia Romance

7.3

Rising From Wreckage: Starfall's Epic Comeback

7.3

Rain hammered against the asphalt as my sedan spun violently into the guardrail on the I-95. Blood trickled down my temple, stinging my eyes, while the rhythmic slap of the windshield wipers mocked my panic. Trembling, I dialed my husband, Clive. His executive assistant answered instead, his voice professional and utterly cold. "Mr. Wilson says to stop the theatrics. He said, and I quote, 'Hang up. Tell her I don't have time for her emotional blackmail tonight.'" The line went dead while I was still trapped in the wreckage. At the hospital, I watched the news footage of Clive wrapping his jacket around his "fragile" ex-girlfriend, Angelena, shielding her from the storm I was currently bleeding in. When I returned to our penthouse, I found a prenatal ultrasound in his suit pocket, dated the day he claimed to be on a business trip. Instead of an apology, Clive met me with a sneer. He told me I was nothing but an "expensive decoration" his father bought to make him look stable. He froze my bank accounts and cut off my cards, waiting for the hunger to drive me back to his feet. I stared at the man I had loved for four years, realizing he didn't just want a wife; he wanted a prop he could switch off. He thought he could starve me into submission while he played father to another woman's child. But Clive forgot one thing. Before I was his trophy wife, I was Starfall-the legendary voice actress who vanished at the height of her fame. "I'm not jealous, Clive. I'm done." I grabbed my old microphone and walked out. I'm not just leaving him; I'm taking the lead role in the biggest saga in Hollywood-the one Angelena is desperate for. This time, the "decoration" is going to burn his world down.

Mafia Modern Romance

8.2

The Canary Who Learned To Fly

8.2

I died on a Tuesday. It wasn't a quick death. It was slow, cold, and meticulously planned by the man who called himself my father. I was twenty years old. He needed my kidney to save my sister. The spare part for the golden child. I remember the blinding lights of the operating theater, the sterile smell of betrayal, and the phantom pain of a surgeon's scalpel carving into my flesh while my screams echoed unheard. I remember looking through the observation glass and seeing him—my father, Giovanni Vitiello, the Don of the Chicago Outfit—watching me die with the same detached expression he used when signing a death warrant. He chose her. He always chose her. And then, I woke up. Not in heaven. Not in hell. But in my own bed, a year before my scheduled execution. My body was whole, unscarred. The timeline had reset, a glitch in the cruel matrix of my existence, giving me a second chance I never asked for. This time, when my father handed me a one-way ticket to London—an exile disguised as a severance package—I didn't cry. I didn't beg. My heart, once a bleeding wound, was now a block of ice. He didn't know he was talking to a ghost. He didn't know I had already lived through his ultimate betrayal. He also didn't know that six months ago, during the city's brutal territory wars, I was the one who saved his most valuable asset. In a secret safe house, I stitched up the wounds of a blinded soldier, a man whose life hung by a thread. He never saw my face. He only knew my voice, the scent of vanilla, and the steady touch of my hands. He called me Sette. Seven. For the seven stitches I put in his shoulder. That man was Dante Moretti. The Ruthless Capo. The man my sister, Isabella, is now set to marry. She stole my story. She claimed my actions, my voice, my scent. And Dante, the man who could spot a lie from a mile away, believed the beautiful deception because he wanted it to be true. He wanted the golden girl to be his savior, not the invisible sister who was only ever good for her spare parts. So I took the ticket. In my past life, I fought them, and they silenced me on an operating table. This time, I will let them have their perfect, gilded lie. I will go to London. I will disappear. I will let Seraphina Vitiello die on that plane. But I will not be a victim. This time, I will not be the lamb led to slaughter. This time, from the shadows of my exile, I will be the one holding the match. And I will wait, with the patience of the dead, to watch their entire world burn. Because a ghost has nothing to lose, and a queen of ashes has an empire to gain.

Horror Mafia Mystery

My Mate Rejects Me For Her Sister's Mate

Chapter 2

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