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Reborn As The Lycan King's Fated Mate Novel Cover

Reborn As The Lycan King's Fated Mate

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.
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Chapter 2

Ivy POV

The realization tore through me, more agonizing than the thick silver chains piercing my collarbones.

*Fated Mate.*

My mind flashed back to the Great Hall. When I drove that silver dagger coated in high-grade wolfsbane into Kyler’s chest, the Lycan King hadn't fought back. With his terrifying, unmatched strength, he could have snapped my neck before I even blinked. Instead, he had just looked at me. There was no anger in his eyes, only a profound, tragic devotion. He had recognized my scent. He knew I was his Fated Mate, and he chose to let me kill him rather than harm me.

A phantom wail echoed in the deepest, emptiest part of my soul. I had destroyed the sacred Mate-bond. I had slaughtered the only man who could have given me the Soul's Peace, all for a lie.

"Crying for the tyrant?" Denisse sneered from her opulent litter, her voice dripping with venom. "Don't waste your tears, Ivy. I have one last gift for you before you rot."

She leaned forward, her gaze dropping to my slightly swollen belly. "Did you honestly believe a royal Alpha like Darius would ever touch a wolfless stray like you? That you were carrying his pup?"

My breath caught. The cold dread in my stomach turned to pure ice.

"Darius wouldn't soil his hands," Denisse laughed, a high, grating sound that bounced off the damp stone walls. "He arranged a substitute for that night in the dark. A filthy, wandering Rogue named Stuart Snider. He reeked of rotting flesh, but he was more than happy to breed a blind, desperate fool."

*No.*

The word wouldn't form. The ultimate humiliation crashed over me, suffocating me. I wasn't carrying the pup of the man I thought I loved. I was carrying a Rogue's bastard. I had been nothing but a pawn, a joke, a disposable weapon.

The betrayal, the crushing guilt of Kyler's death, and the searing agony of the holy metal finally broke me. A violent cough racked my body, and thick, dark blood spilled from my lips, staining my torn clothes. My vision darkened. As my spirit shattered completely, I welcomed the suffocating blackness, taking my boundless, burning hatred into the void.

*

I gasped, my lungs expanding violently as if breaking the surface of a frozen lake.

There was no stench of rotting flesh. No suffocating wolfsbane. Instead, the faint, crisp scent of lilies and rain filled my nose—*my* scent.

I blinked against the sudden, blinding sunlight. I was lying on a velvet blanket draped over a chaise longue. Across the room, a pale blue coat hung near a carved oak round table, and a wooden-framed vanity mirror reflected a face I hadn't seen in years.

I wasn't in the Silvermoon Dungeon. I was in my old bedroom at the Russell Estate.

"Miss Ivy? Are you alright? You look like you've seen a ghost."

I whipped my head around. Standing there, holding a stack of fresh towels, was Kaya. My loyal Omega maid. She was young, her face unmarred by the brutal torture that would eventually claim her life. She was alive.

I stared at my hands. They were small, unscarred by silver blades. I was fifteen. I hadn't experienced my first shift yet. I was still the despised, wolfless fifth daughter of the Russell Pack.

The Moon Goddess had given me a second chance.

"Kaya," I choked out, my voice trembling. "What time is it?"

Kaya blinked, startled by my intensity. "It's almost three in the afternoon, Miss."

*Three PM.*

The memory struck me like a physical blow. Today was the turning point of my miserable past life. At three o'clock today, my father's vicious mistress, Jackie, would slip a variant of liquid silver and wolfsbane into the medicine of my adoptive mother, the High Luna Josephine. It was the poison that would permanently blind her and cripple her Inner Wolf.

And tonight... tonight was the night Jackie and Denisse would shove a foul-smelling servant into my room to frame me for infidelity, destroying my arranged marriage to Denver Mason, the third son of the Mason Pack.

My sorrow and guilt instantly hardened into a cold, lethal resolve.

I didn't have time to explain anything to Kaya. I threw off the velvet blanket and sprinted toward the door. I had to get to the Luna's Suite. I had failed Kyler in my past life, but I would not let them destroy the only mother who had ever loved me.

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