Reborn As The Alphas' Hated Mate
I woke up in a lavish bedroom, only to find a man built like a god of war chained to my wall, glaring at me with pure, unadulterated hatred.
A glowing apparition appeared and told me I had died in a car crash and transmigrated into the body of Elara, a tyrant Luna. Worse, the chained man was Ryker, one of my six fated mates whom the original Elara had brutally tortured.
Because of her sadistic crimes-starving them, exiling them, and sending two of them on a suicide mission-my affinity with them was at negative five hundred. The apparition delivered my terrifying death sentence.
"In three days, at the Marking Ceremony, you will be killed by your six mates."
No matter what I did-freeing Ryker, sharing my food, or lifting their brother's exile-they viewed every act of kindness as a sick, twisted trap. They were just waiting for the punchline to my cruel joke, ready to expose me and end my life.
I was just a librarian who organized book clubs and paid my taxes. Why did the Goddess throw me into this doomed vessel to pay for a psychopath's blood debts? How was I supposed to survive when the men destined to love me were actively plotting to rip my throat out?
Cornered by their righteous fury, I realized playing defense wouldn't work. I grabbed a dagger, sliced my own palm over the ceremonial stone, and swore a blood oath to bring their missing brothers home-or initiate a soul-shattering Rejection Ceremony myself.
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Chapter 2
Elara Valerius POV:
Finn's voice didn't just fade; it echoed directly inside my skull, pulling my consciousness out of the lavish bedroom and into a void of pure, sterile white. The world around me froze. Ryker remained mid-sneer, a statue of rage and disbelief. The motes of dust in the sunbeams hung suspended in the air.
Here, in this silent, timeless space, I could finally breathe.
"Why?" The word ripped out of me, raw and accusatory. "Why would the Goddess throw me into this? An execution?"
"The original Elara's soul was corrupted," Finn's disembodied voice explained, calm and factual. "Her cruelty and malice tainted the Luna power the Goddess bestowed upon her. She was on the verge of being erased by the laws of this world."
A shimmering image appeared in the white void, showing six silhouettes, their bonds to a central, flickering light fraying and turning black.
"The Goddess could not bear to see six of her sons lose their soul-mates forever due to one fallen Luna," Finn continued. "So she brought you here. Your soul is... compatible. You are here to purify the bond."
A bitter laugh escaped me. "So I'm here to pay her debts."
"That is an accurate, if simplistic, way of putting it," the voice conceded. "This is your 'gift'—a chance to set things right."
Another image materialized in front of me: a translucent panel, like something from a video game, that only I could see.
LUNA STATUS
Name: Elara Valerius
Level: F (Fallen)
Skills: [Locked]
MATE BONDS
Ryker Blackwood: Affinity: -500 (Abject Hatred)
My stomach plummeted. Negative five hundred.
"You must raise your affinity with your mates by earning their goodwill or trust," Finn explained. "Doing so will raise your Luna level and unlock skills. The first is 'Mind-Link (Lesser)', which will allow you to sense their surface emotions."
"What did she do?" I whispered, staring at that horrifying number. "What could she have possibly done to make him hate her that much?"
For the first time, I thought I detected a flicker in Finn's neutral tone, something akin to pity. The white void swirled, and I was plunged into a series of short, brutal memories.
A younger version of Ryker, held down by two guards. The original Elara, her amethyst eyes glittering with malice, kicking a bowl of stew onto the floor in front of a boy with grey eyes—Ryker's brother, Zane. "Eat, dog," she'd sneered.
Another brother, Kade, younger and defiant, being dragged away by guards into the dark forest. "He bumped into me," Elara had said with a bored flick of her wrist. "Exile him."
Two more mates, the identical Thorne twins, Corbin and Silas. Elara was fawning over another man, a golden-haired Alpha named Caspian Aurelius. To impress him, she’d ordered Corbin and Silas on a suicide mission into enemy territory to steal some artifact.
The visions ended, leaving me cold and shaking. The weight of her sins settled on my shoulders, heavy and suffocating.
"Are Corbin and Silas… are they dead?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
"Their life-forces are faint, flickering on the edge of existence," Finn replied.
A tiny, fragile sliver of hope. They were alive.
The connection to the white void snapped, and I was back in my body, the dust motes once again dancing in the light. My gaze fell on Ryker, and my expression had changed. The fear was still there, but now it was layered with a profound, aching guilt for crimes I hadn't committed.
Ryker's eyes narrowed. He saw the shift, the flicker of something new in my face, and his entire body tensed. He thought this was the prelude to the real game.
I took a deep, shaky breath. I had to start somewhere.
I walked towards the wall where he was chained.
He went rigid, a low, warning growl vibrating in his chest. His wolf was on the surface, ready to rip my throat out if I came a centimeter too close.
I didn't. I stopped a safe distance away and reached for the heavy iron key hanging on a hook on the wall, just out of his reach. My body was still so weak. My arm trembled with the effort, my fingers straining, brushing against the cold metal but failing to grasp it.
Ryker watched me, his expression unreadable, his silence a heavy weight in the room. He was waiting. Watching to see what trick this was.
Gritting my teeth, I pushed myself up on my toes, stretching until my muscles screamed. My fingertips finally closed around the key. It was heavy, real.
I pulled it from the hook and turned to face him. I held it up, my hand shaking slightly. My voice was quiet, but it didn't waver.
"I'm letting you go."
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7.6
He hated my gut!
I detested his arrogance!
I was supposed to be his ex-stepmother,but I hated pack politics and returned to the human community after Alpha Holt's death.
I was forced back to heal the wounds of the one that hated me the most, my stepson Adrian.
To the world he was the famous NHL golden boy of hockey and to the Frostfang pack, their feared Alpha.
But the moon goddess had another plan.
On the night he was crowned as Alpha, his father's mark faded from my neck and Adrian's mate bond burnt harshly on my skin. But fate wasn't done yet.
We were expected to team up to fight a common foe when we could barely stand each other.
Was our fate strong enough to overcome physical hatred?
7.6
I woke up to the suffocating smell of copper and sulfur, my fingers wrapped around a blood-soaked leather whip.
Hanging from an obsidian cross in front of me was a boy with silver hair and dead, golden eyes.
His pale chest was torn open to the bone.
I recognized those eyes immediately. I had spent three years describing them on my laptop.
He was Kamari Monroe, the tragic, overpowered protagonist of my own web novel.
And I wasn't just a bystander. I was Benedict Guerrero, the sadistic academy headmaster. The ultimate villain.
A reel of images flashed in my mind: my original ending. Kamari, fully awakened, skinning me alive and burning my soul in a furnace for forty-nine days.
My loyal attack dog, Gideon, stepped forward with a basin of glowing green liquid.
"Headmaster, let me wake him up with this bone-rot acid so you can resume."
If that acid hit Kamari, his hatred would become permanent. My gruesome death would be sealed.
But if I broke character and apologized, the magical world would sense the shift, and Kamari would just think it was a sicker, more twisted trap.
How was I supposed to survive a death sentence I wrote myself?
I couldn't show weakness. I had to play the monster to survive.
Suppressing my terror, I smashed the acid basin, healed his ruined flesh with agonizing dark magic, and lied straight to his face.
"Someone had to be the monster to push you into the fire."
This time, I will rewrite my own fate.
7.7
I gripped the wheel of my Porsche through a Manhattan downpour, staring at the positive pregnancy test on the passenger seat. Haden's voicemail was my only answer.
A semi swerved into my lane. Brakes failed. I slammed into the guardrail, airbags exploding, pain ripping through my gut.
Headlights pierced the rain. My sister Corrie stepped out under an umbrella, smiling coldly. "Beauvais Fashion is liquidated. Dad's dying." Haden stood beside her, eyes dead, shoving equity papers through the window. "Sign, or no ambulance."
I tore them up. Corrie lit a flare, tossed it onto the gas-soaked seats. Flames whooshed as they walked away.
I woke strapped to an operating table, agony tearing me apart. "No heartbeat," the doctor said. Nurses pinned me down. Instruments invaded. Corrie dropped a death certificate on my chest, then set the room ablaze with alcohol and a cigarette flick.
Smoke choked me. A cabinet blocked the door. I collapsed, burning. Then a man in black burst in, scent of cedar and tobacco, scooping me from the fire.
Five years later, I'd rebuilt myself as Sloane, flawless and cold. I signed a sham marriage to Donavan Mason, nursing his dying grandfather in their estate—the house that swallowed my father's legacy.
Betrayed by my lover and sister, child ripped away, identity erased—how could they do this? Who was the man who saved me?
Now, I infiltrate their world, armed with secrets and scars, ready to burn them all down.
9.4
I was lying in a sterile hospital room, dying of cancer, with only a fake infertility report to keep me company.
Right before my heart monitor flatlined, a stranger walked in and handed me a medical file.
He told me that my fiancé, Garret, had zero sperm viability. The baby my adoptive sister, Beryl, was carrying wasn't his.
When Beryl got pregnant years ago, my adoptive parents forced me to break my engagement and take the blame for being barren.
I was discarded by Garret, mocked by Beryl's triumphant smiles, and kicked out of the house.
I was left to rot alone in a hospital bed while they lived the perfect life stolen from me.
My entire existence had been a cage built on a single, disgusting lie.
The anger burned away my despair. Why was I the only one who didn't know?
Why did I let them use me as a maid and a shield for their filthy secrets?
As the darkness swallowed me, I prayed for just one more chance.
I opened my eyes to the sound of my adoptive mother yelling my name.
The calendar on the wall read March 15, 2019—the exact day they forced me to give up Garret.
This time, I didn't cry or beg.
"You want Beryl to have Garret? Fine," I told my shocked adoptive parents. "But I want a cash buyout, and we are legally severing this adoption."
Then, I set my sights on Douglass Ward—the stranger from the hospital room.
8.6
Temptations, a world of investigation, mystery, and the supernatural, unfolds through tales set in the Lovecraft County universe, where magic and science intertwine, magical families vie for power like imperial houses, and cosmic entities observe from the veils of reality. This saga, born from intrigues of power, mystery, debauchery, and passionate bodies, is a testament to this.
Tsuki, the man with red and white hair, is heir to a cursed lineage, always entangled in passionate affairs between men and women. Whenever his eyes meet, they reveal secrets that should not be seen.
His heart is always divided between forbidden passions and ancestral responsibilities. Throughout his life, his dealings, intrigues, and mysteries unfold, amidst love affairs, sex, and passions, as he becomes involved with his witches, each representing aspects of desire and seduction, bringing with them mysteries, intrigues, and dangers, amidst intrigues, love affairs, passionate affairs, darkness, light, and the entanglements of bodies and their moments of passion.
From masked balls to blood pacts, from living paintings to endless towers, Tsuki traverses scenarios that blend the cosmic horror of Lovecraft with the political intrigues of Dunes and space planets embroiled in political intrigue, where the magical atmosphere of magical worlds, amidst romances, is enveloped in conspiracy, each passion a prophecy, each choice a risk.
Temptations is more than a saga of love and magic. It's a universe of family intrigues, secret pacts, and cosmic entities.
While wandering among thrillers and detective cases, amidst the story of a man torn between temptation and destiny, between chaos and passion.
In the midst of embarking on a dark, mature, and captivating epic, where each page is an invitation to the abyss-and each temptation is a choice between living and being lost.
Tsuki was born under the reflection of this Mirror, his red and white hair a sign of the curse, and his eyes revealing secrets that should not be seen.
Still always involved, since he was a child, he was haunted by visions of witches and shadows, and each family saw him as a threat or prophecy, among demons and supernatural beings, in the midst of dark cities, warm beds, and his passions.
After traversing masked balls, blood pacts, living paintings, endless towers, and enchanted seas, Tsuki reaches the end of his journey.
As he embarks on stories that show the mirror, now broken into nine fragments, revealing its truth: every witch he loved, every intrigue he faced, every temptation that consumed him, was part of the same destiny.
In the final reflection, Tsuki sees himself-not as an heir, not as a lover, not as an artist, but as a bridge between worlds.
At various moments, he understands that love and desire are not curses, but forces capable of challenging even forgotten gods.
9.1
"You're already soaked, aren't you?" Jax growled, his fingers teasing under the hem of her tight janitor dress. "Three of us... and you're dripping before we even start."
Shy, curvy Lila only took the late-night cleaning job for the money. She never expected to become the prize in a filthy bet between the three hottest guys in the dorm.
Cocky Jax, intense Miles, and playful Theo made a wager: the first one to make the chubby cleaner come wins.
But when they discover how easily she gets wet and how desperately she's fantasized about being shared by multiple men, the bet turns into something much greedier.
Now every shift ends with Lila bent over in her sexy uniform, soft body worshipped and passed between three hard cocks - moaning, shaking, and living out her dirtiest fantasy.
She knows it's wrong. She knows it's risky.
But why stop when three gorgeous men are competing to ruin her every night?