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Reborn As The Alphas' Hated Mate Novel Cover

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 9

Elara Valerius POV:

I woke to the sound of a low, rumbling growl, a sound that vibrated through the floor and up into the very bones of the bed. It was a sound of deep, restrained agony. My eyes fluttered open. I was back in my bedroom, my hand neatly and tightly bandaged.

But I wasn't alone.

My heart leaped into my throat. Ryker was sitting in a chair beside the bed, his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands. The growl was coming from him, a pained, guttural sound ripped from the depths of his chest. Zane and Kade stood near the door, their faces pale with worry, their eyes flicking between me and their brother.

I could feel it then, a thrumming, painful energy in the air. It was coming from Ryker. His powerful Alpha wolf, bound to me by a fate we both now cursed, was in turmoil. My injury, my weakness, my loss of blood—it was reflecting back on him through the mate bond, causing his wolf a phantom pain it couldn't understand or fight.

I tried to push myself up, and Ryker's head snapped up.

"Don't move!" he snarled, his voice a raw rasp. His golden eyes were shot through with blood-red veins, his face a mask of torment.

I sank back against the pillows, my own pain forgotten. I was hurting him. My weakness was a poison to him, driving his wolf mad. A fragment of the old Elara's knowledge surfaced in my mind: an Alpha's wolf, especially one as powerful as Ryker's, was a finely tuned instrument. When agitated by a mate's distress, it could become a destructive, uncontrollable force, capable of permanently damaging its host's sanity if not soothed.

I looked at his clenched jaw, the sweat beading on his brow. There was only one way to calm the beast inside him. A way that was intimate, dangerous, and deeply embarrassing.

Pheromones. A Luna could soothe her mate's wolf by releasing her unique scent, a calming balm that spoke directly to his primal nature. It was an act usually reserved for the most private moments between a mated pair.

My cheeks burned at the thought, but looking at the raw pain on his face, I knew I had no choice.

"Can you two… please leave us?" I asked, my voice quiet, directed at Zane and Kade. "I think I can help him."

They exchanged a look of deep skepticism, but a fresh wave of agony made Ryker groan and clutch his head, and that decided it for them. They nodded and slipped out of the room, closing the door softly behind them.

The air in the room was electric with his pain.

"Ryker," I said softly. "Look at me. Let me help you."

His eyes, filled with a mix of suffering and deep-seated suspicion, locked onto mine. "What new trick is this?" he ground out through clenched teeth.

"It's not a trick," I said, trying to keep my voice even. "Seeing you like this doesn't help me. It doesn't help anyone."

I closed my eyes and focused, delving deep inside myself, searching for a well of calm I didn't feel. I thought of peace, of quiet, of safety. And I let it go. I released my scent into the air—a fragrance of moon-petal flowers and cool night rain.

The effect was instantaneous.

Ryker's body went rigid. The growling in his chest hitched, and a low, confused whine escaped his lips. His wolf, the furious beast at his core, was captivated, soothed by a scent it recognized on a cellular level. It was the antidote to its poison.

Seeing it was working, I slowly, carefully, slid off the bed and approached him. He didn't move back. He couldn't. His rational mind was at war with a primal instinct that was screaming at him to get closer to the source of that scent.

I stopped in front of him, my heart hammering. I raised my uninjured hand, hesitating for a fraction of a second before gently placing it on his forehead.

The moment my skin touched his, a jolt of energy, of *sparks*, crackled between us. It was a tangible thing, a shock of recognition that made us both gasp.

A shudder went through his powerful frame, and a sigh of relief escaped him. The iron-hard muscles in his shoulders began to unclench. I focused all my will, pouring a wave of calming energy through my touch, reinforcing the message of my scent. *Peace. Calm. Safe.*

It was an exhausting process. I could feel the ragged edges of his wolf's fury, the deep well of his pain and anger, and beneath it all, a sliver of something else—a desperate, lonely yearning for his mate.

Slowly, minute by agonizing minute, the storm inside him began to subside. His breathing evened out. The frantic, hunted look in his eyes softened, the blood-red veins receding.

When he was finally, fully calm, the reality of our position seemed to hit him. He was leaning into my touch, his eyes closed, and I was standing between his knees, my hand on his head. It was an incredibly intimate pose.

He jerked back as if he'd been burned, pulling away from my touch and putting space between us.

The sudden severing of our connection left me dizzy. I swayed on my feet, the effort of soothing him having drained the last of my reserves. I was paler now than I had been after losing my blood.

Ryker stared at me, his expression more complex than I had ever seen it. The raw hatred was still there, a banked fire in the depths of his golden eyes. But it was now mixed with a grudging, confused something else. He was looking at me, truly looking at me, and for the first time, he couldn't see the monster he'd been chained to. The woman standing before him, weak and trembling from the effort of healing him, just didn't fit.

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