PREGNANT FOR THE ALPHA I NEVER MET
Millie-Rose lost everything she'd worked for since the age of four in a single day; her career, her reputation, and the life she was about to marry into, when a test revealed she was pregnant... despite never being touched all her life.
Scandal followed. Betrayal cut deep. And running became her only chance at survival.
But there's one truth she can't outrun: the child she carries belongs to Alpha Braham, a werewolf king with power, patience, and a claim she never agreed to.
She escaped the world.
She rebuilt her life.
But how will she escape him?
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Chapter 4
MILLIE-ROSE'S POV
I didn't say yes to his question, but I didn't say no either.
I probably wanted it as much as he did. That was the only logical explanation for the fact that I followed him from the damn club to a hotel I'd never seen before, with a man I barely knew, and yet somehow couldn't resist.
The door clicked shut behind us, sealing the silence in.
My heart thudded, heavy and uneven, like it was trying to warn me. But if this was a mistake, then I was walking into it willingly barefoot, half-drunk on lust, and breathless from anticipation.
The room was dim, but not dark. Warm shadows danced across the walls from a single lamp near the bed, and yet I could already feel his heat closing in. I didn't need to see his face to know he was watching me... devouring me with those sharp, alpha eyes.
"Alpha Braham."
That name rolled off my tongue like a sin. Like a prayer wrapped in a warning.
He hadn't touched me, not yet. But I was already wet. My body had betrayed me long before this moment. From the club floor, to his goddamn car, to now, every cell in me had been waiting for his hands.
"You're nervous." His voice...low, dark, and rumbling...cut through the quiet like a blade.
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to look up and meet his gaze. "You think?"
He smirked, not in amusement, but in hunger. "I can smell it. And I like it."
I hated the way my spine tingled at those words. Hated the way my thighs pressed together like I could contain the ache-when it only grew stronger. Louder.
He took one step forward, and I instinctively stepped back until my spine met the cold wall. I shivered.
"You should tell me to stop," he murmured, towering over me. "Now's your only chance. Because if I touch you, Millie-Rose, I'm not stopping. I won't know how."
His fingers skimmed my cheek, down to my jaw. I gasped softly, unable to hide how badly I wanted more.
"Why me?" I breathed. I didn't mean to ask it out loud, but the question had been burning on my tongue since the first moment I saw him.
His eyes darkened, like the shadows in the room had sunk into him. "Because no one has ever looked at me the way you did. Not in that club. Not anywhere." He paused. "Like you weren't afraid of me. But you should be."
Should I? I had been afraid of him. From the moment I saw him at the hospital, something inside me had recoiled, an animal instinct that screamed danger.
Unless... he just chose not to see it. Or maybe he was blinded by something else. Something more primal.
He kissed me.
No warning. No teasing. No slow build.
Just heat and hunger and a mouth that claimed mine like it belonged there.
His lips crashed into mine, hot and rough, and I whimpered into the kiss as his body pressed fully against mine. Solid. Heavy. Alpha.
His mouth tasted like midnight...dark, intoxicating, wild. Like he'd been starving, and I was the only thing on the menu.
He growled when I kissed him back... really kissed him. Tongue, teeth, breathless moans. He lifted me like I weighed nothing, pinning me against the wall. My legs wrapped around his waist like instinct. Like destiny.
"I've never..." I began, breath catching in my throat.
He silenced me with a thumb against my lips, his gaze burning into mine. "I know." His voice dropped to a growl. "I felt it. The second I touched you. Your body's untouched. But not unloved. Not unclaimed."
He peeled my blouse off slowly, with reverence...like he was unwrapping a treasure he didn't believe he deserved. His mouth never stopped moving down my neck, across my collarbone, grazing the curve of my breasts.
He stared like I was some kind of masterpiece.
"Perfect," he muttered, his hands cupping me gently, like he was afraid I might break. "Every goddamn inch of you."
I couldn't think. Couldn't breathe. I was floating.
Then his mouth closed around my nipple and I gasped...arched into him as a wave of heat burst through me. Wet pressure, then a flick of his tongue that made my spine curve and my hands grip his shoulders.
He moved to the other side, sucking harder, tugging just enough to send a pulse straight between my thighs.
I was soaked. I knew it. I could feel my panties clinging to my skin, wet and needy.
He carried me to the bed like I weighed nothing. Laid me down gently, then stared like I was something to worship.
When he pulled his shirt off, my breath caught.
Holy. Hell.
His body was carved from war. All muscle and dominance and power. There was a thin trail of hair leading from his chest down over hard abs to where...
I swallowed.
His voice brought me back. "Look at me, baby." He hovered over me. "Tell me you want this. Say it, Millie."
I hesitated...not because I didn't want him. Gosh, I wanted him. But this was insane. I didn't even know him. He wasn't safe.
And yet... I'd never felt safer.
"I want you," I whispered.
He growled low and thick, dragging his mouth over mine again. This time slower. Deeper. Like a man claiming what was already his.
He slipped his fingers into my panties and found my slick folds. His breath hitched.
"Fuck, you're dripping for me."
"Do something about it," I whispered. I surprised even myself with how boldly the words came out.
That made him chuckle darkly. "You'll regret saying that, sweetheart."
One thick finger slid inside me... slowly, deeply. I cried out, arching into his hand.
"Easy," he coaxed, voice low and calm. "You're tight. Gonna stretch you real good before I take you."
He curled his finger inside me and hit something that made me tremble. My body convulsed, legs jerking, mouth falling open in a helpless moan.
"There she is," he said, full of praise. "Give it to me."
I shattered with a cry, nails digging into his skin. But he wasn't done. He moved down, mouth replacing fingers, after cleaning the finger with his tongue, he licked me open like I was made of honey. His tongue swirled around my clit, sucking and flicking and dragging me into another climax so fast it left me gasping.
"No...wait... I can't..."
"Yes, you can," he growled, holding my thighs wide open. "You're mine tonight. Every scream. Every shake. Every fucking tear."
I broke again. Harder. Louder. My body trembled beneath him, sweat slicking my skin.
When he climbed back over me, I was wrecked. But hungry.
His cock... thick, heavy, glistening at the tip...pressed against my entrance. He paused, brushing a finger along my cheek.
"Last chance, little star. If I start, I'm claiming you. Even if you don't know what that means yet."
"Claim me," I whispered.
Where the hell did that come from? But I meant it. Every stupid, dangerous word.
He pushed into me with one deep, punishing thrust.
We both cried out.
It hurt. Sharp and bright. But then... fullness. Stretching. Delicious pressure.
He cursed, pulling back and pushing in again. "So. Damn. Tight."
I held onto him, meeting every thrust, my moans echoing his growls. We moved together like we'd done this before...in another life, in every life.
He tangled a hand in my hair, yanking gently. "Look at me. Eyes on me while I fuck you."
It was the hardest thing I'd ever done. But I obeyed.
We didn't look away.
Bodies slamming. Heat rising. My thighs wrapped around his hips, nails clawing into his back.
He rolled us suddenly, pulling me on top, helping me ride him until my thighs ached and my breath broke into gasps. His hands gripped my waist, then my ass, guiding me harder, deeper.
"You're everything," he groaned. "Mine. Only mine."
He bent me over, one hand at the small of my back, pushing it down against the bed and raising my ass up, he slammed into me from behind. I cried out, legs shaking, eyes rolling.
This position...this...was wrecking me.
I came again, screaming into the sheets, his name tangled in my breath.
He followed...roaring, hips jerking as he spilled inside me. One final thrust. Then silence.
The room was filled with panting. Skin. Sweat. The thick scent of sex and something wilder.
I collapsed onto his chest, both of us still trembling.
And then he whispered, voice rough with something too raw to name...
"I've searched for you in every lifetime, Millie-Rose. And now that I've found you... I'll burn the world before I ever let you go."
That sounded so much like a promise
And yet... it terrified me like a threat.
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7.2
Title- A Name Without A Past
Author- Abraham Tejiri Onojighofia
Genre: Psychological Suspense Romance / Crime Thriller
Tagline: Memory lies. Danger doesn't..
Larry awakens in an abandoned hospital with no name, no past, and no memories-except one. A woman's face. Her voice. Her presence. The single image floating in the hollow wreckage of his mind is so sharp, so undeniable, that he knows she matters. He doesn't know who he is, but he knows he must find her.
Moments after he escapes the hospital, someone tries to kill him.
Driven by instinct and the one memory he trusts, Larry follows the fragment of recognition until it leads him to Ella Morgan, a composed and fiercely intelligent homicide detective. But instead of relief, he's met with confusion. Ella has never seen him before. According to her, he is a stranger.
But danger arrives before either of them can walk away.
A sudden attack convinces Ella that Larry is not lying-someone wants him dead. And the attempt on his life mirrors the recent string of unsolved murders she is investigating. Against policy and against her better judgment, Ella takes him under temporary protection. Immediately, unsettling cracks begin to appear in her certainty.
Larry recognizes places connected to the case.
He reacts to threats with a trained instinct he can't explain.
And his fragmented flashbacks seem tied to secrets Ella wasn't supposed to uncover.
As they race to piece together his missing identity, a darker truth begins to emerge. Larry's amnesia is no accident. Evidence points to a covert operation, a covered-up crime, and powerful enemies determined to bury the truth permanently. His erased memory may hold the key to a conspiracy that reaches into the police force, the city's elite-and Ella's own past.
With each step closer to the truth, the connection between them deepens. Larry feels drawn to her with an unshakable certainty that defies logic, while Ella fights the pull of a man who may be the missing link to her most dangerous case yet.
But as Larry's memories begin to return, so does a chilling realization:
Ella wasn't just a face in his mind. She was the last person he tried to protect before everything went dark.
Now, the enemies hunting Larry have turned their sights on her.
In a deadly race against a faceless adversary, Larry and Ella must unravel the past he's forgotten before it destroys them both. Because the silence Larry woke up with isn't empty-it's hiding a witness, a secret, and a truth someone is willing to kill to keep buried.
And the closer the truth gets, the more dangerous remembering becomes.
7.7
Bella arrived New York City with ambitions, goals and desperate hunger to escape poverty. Raised by her single poor mother along side beloved sister Emily, Bella believed the only way to succeed and save her family from the ruthless hands of poverty was education.
After countless denial and rejection letters, she finally gained admission into one of the most prestigious universities in the country. What she doesn't realize is that stepping foot into that campus would pull her into a dangerous world of obsession, wealth, and power She never knew existed.
Benson Vale is everything Bella despised, Arrogant, untouchable and born into privilege.
As the heir to a billionaire empire, Benson is being forced to get married in order to acquire his inheritance something he dreaded with passion, but Bella crashed into his life and his tightly controlled world starts to unravel.
Lurking in the background is Angella Browns, Benson's childhood friend and the campus self proclaimed queen bee. Obsessed and possessive Angella would do whatever it takes to keep Benson all to herself even if it meant destroying Bella's life to pieces.
When tragedy strikes and secrets begins to unfold, Bella and Bensons relationship are bounded together by a dangerous DEAL - one that could either save or destroy them both.
As danger draws closer Bella must not only fight for justice but also uncover the truth behind her sisters death and choose Whether love was meant to survive in a world filled with Wealth, Power, and betrayal.
It was never meant to be love until fate made them collide.
8.6
I was the untouchable Mafia Queen, but my reign ended in the blood-soaked depths of a damp dungeon.
My half-sister, Kelsey, drove a rusted, sharpened spoon into my chest, screaming about the unfairness of fate.
In my past life, my father sold me to the ruthless Don Dante Blackwell as collateral to pay off his debts.
To survive, I took a black-market fertility drug, birthed his heir, and clawed my way to the throne through sheer ruthlessness.
But in the mafia world, a pregnant woman isn't a queen; she's a walking target.
I survived countless bombings and poisonings, only to be betrayed and slaughtered by my own family.
Until my last breath, I couldn't understand. I had sacrificed everything to secure our survival in the empire. Why did my blood and tears only earn me a rusted spoon to the heart?
Opening my eyes again, I am seventeen, sitting in my father's drawing room.
Two black velvet boxes sit on the mahogany table.
Kelsey greedily snatches the box containing the fertility drug, her eyes gleaming with feverish triumph.
"I'll take this one, Papa."
She thinks she is stealing my golden ticket to the crown, completely unaware that she just chose a death sentence.
I lower my gaze, letting my eyelashes mask the cold, lethal amusement pooling in my eyes as I take the remaining box.
Inside is the detailed psychological profile of the Don's dead fiancée.
This time, I won't be a breeding mare fighting off assassins. I will dissect the devil himself.
7.2
Aria was born with a fire in her soul a mysterious ember that hums with a power even she cannot control. Ordinary life was never meant for her, but when shadowed creatures rise from the Veiled Realm, kingdoms teeter on the edge of war, and an ancient prophecy stirs from the depths of forgotten magic, Aria discovers that her gift may be the only thing standing between life and annihilation.
As she struggles to master her abilities, Aria is thrust into a world of ruthless warlords, cunning sorcerers, and dark beasts that hunt from the shadows. Every ally she meets could be a traitor, every enemy may hold a secret, and every choice she makes carries the weight of a realm cloaked in mystery and danger.
Amid the chaos, a forbidden bond ignites with a warrior whose strength matches her own, a connection that could either become her greatest strength or her deadliest weakness. As love, betrayal, and destiny collide, Aria must confront the shadows of her past, embrace the power within her, and decide whether she will rise as the savior of the Veiled Realm or fall and let it burn.
Embers will flare. Secrets will awaken. And one girl's courage will shape the fate of a hidden world forever.
8.5
To the Dark Moon Pack, I wasn't just invisible; I was a stain. Dean Lee, the Alpha designed for my soul, treated me like a shameful secret while he paraded his mistress, Karina, in red silk.
The night of the Charity Auction, Dean bought my late mother's moonstone pendant—the only thing I had left of her—for a hundred thousand dollars.
I begged him for it. Instead, he clasped it around Karina's ankle.
With a cruel laugh, Karina stomped her stiletto heel, crushing the moonstone into dust. Dean just watched, his eyes cold and unfeeling.
"It was just a cheap rock," he said. "I'll buy you diamonds."
But the cruelty didn't stop at emotional torture. When rogues attacked, Dean used me as live bait to distract them from Karina.
He threw me into the Blood Pit, a gladiator arena, to fight a massive Feral wolf while he sat in the VIP box with Karina on his lap.
"She won't last three minutes," I heard him say through our dying bond.
He watched with bored detachment as I was ripped apart, refusing to save me even as I screamed his name. He saved the mistress and drowned the mate.
I died on that arena floor. Or so he thought.
Years later, the mysterious and world-renowned artist "H.Y." returned to New York for a gallery opening.
When Dean saw me on stage, he rushed forward, tears streaming down his face, trying to claim the wife he had mourned.
"Hayley," he choked out, reaching for me. "You're alive. You're mine."
I didn't cry. I didn't run.
I unleashed a shockwave of ancient White Wolf energy that blasted him across the room, shattering the glass displays.
"I don't take orders from dogs anymore," I said, looking down at him.
"I, Hayley York, hereby reject you."
7.0
They mocked him.
They humiliated him.
They thought he was just the worthless son-in-law who couldn't lift his head at the dinner table.
Leon Gray was invisible to everyone around him-his proud wife, his ruthless in-laws, the world that only measured worth by wealth and power. To them, he was nothing but a burden, a joke, a man doomed to live and die in obscurity.
But Leon had a secret.
Behind his silence was strength. Behind his shame was an empire no one dared to imagine. Every insult, every slap, every cruel laugh only fueled the system he carried within him-a mysterious force that rewarded his patience and built his hidden kingdom brick by brick.
The Collins family believed they had crushed him.
What they didn't know was that they had just created their greatest enemy.
Now the silent son-in-law is done waiting.
The tables are about to turn.
The man they trampled will rise-not as their equal, but as their ruler.
This is not just a tale of revenge.
This is the legend of the forgotten man who became untouchable.
The silent king.
The son-in-law who owns everything.