Reborn as the Unwanted Mate
Indiana Sage wakes up inside her own werewolf novel-not as the loved main character but as the hated villain. Now reborn as Lady Lucindabella Pendragon, she's doomed to die painfully.
She's already ruined lives, forced an engagement, and tried to destroy the kingdom's greatest love story. Worse, she's engaged to Alpha Romanov "Rome" Windsor, the cold, dangerously powerful wolf prince who despises her and has every reason to.
Determined to survive, Indy breaks the engagement and steps off the villain's path. She helps Rome fall in love with Clara, the woman he's meant to choose. But the more she stays out of the spotlight, the more attention she draws. The kingdom starts watching. Other men start wanting her. And Rome can't stop watching the woman who now refuses to fight for him.
As desire tangles with regret, Indy realizes the story is no longer following the script she wrote. She was supposed to fade into the background. Instead, she becomes the one everyone wants.
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Chapter 2
INDY
The sensations came to me all at once. The moment everything cleared up, the first thing I saw was a massive descending staircase. Was this the stairway to heaven? Then, why was it going down? Don't tell me that every single sacrifice I made led me to the hellish afterlife!
However, as I looked around the place, I couldn't help but admire its design. Maybe I really was in heaven. The architecture was damn nice. Marble floors. Golden chandeliers. Velvet curtains that probably cost more than my entire apartment. A grand hall so big I was already thinking about the poor soul who has to mop this floor.
The house was stunning.
As I continued looking around the spacious manor, I suddenly saw a girl at the bottom of the stairs.
On her knees and bloody.
Wait, bloody?
My heart did a double take. My feet moved before I could even think. It felt like I had truly been reborn because my body wasn't as sluggish as before. Although, the dress I was wearing was quite uncomfortable. I hadn't gotten around to seeing what I was wearing just yet, but it was quite heavy.
I stumbled down the stairs, hands clutching the banister, until I was right in front of the girl. She looked up, and I was almost blinded by her beauty.
Holy hell, she's gorgeous.
Even with blood trickling down the side of her head, she looked like an angel hand-sculpted by every YA fantasy description ever. Long, golden blonde hair. Ocean-blue eyes. Skin so fair it was practically glowing.
"Whoa," I breathed out before I could stop myself.
Not the time, Indy.
"Hey, are you okay?" I asked, crouching down to her level. "What happened?"
Just then, she flinched and moved away from me, her back hitting the edge of the table. My eyes widened, and I stood, looking around to ask for help because it seemed she was too frightened.
However, my voice got caught in the back of my throat when I saw the type of people I was surrounded with. It seemed we were surrounded by maids and butlers. In fact, this woman was also wearing the same uniform as the ladies around here.
"Can someone help her, please?"
All of them turned to the side. None of them came forward. Instead, they were shaking-trembling, even. Along with that, they were looking at me like I was the Grim Reaper himself.
Just then, the beautiful girl spoke again. "Lady," she whispered. "Please. I didn't do anything wrong. Please don't do this to me."
I walked closer to her to see if the bleeding had made her hallucinate into thinking I was going to hurt her. However, she flinched once more.
Right on time, a deep voice echoed across the hall. "Clara!"
I turned and saw a man, a very tall one, with eyes that looked CGI-rendered. He had long, dark hair tied back in a half ponytail, and he looked out of this world.
He rushed to the girl-Clara, I guess-and dropped to his knees beside her. His eyes burned holes through me.
"What did you do to her?" he growled.
"Sorry," I said, stepping back. "I was just trying to help. I think she hit her head pretty hard."
He scoffed, shaking his head, appearing to be unamused.
"Don't play innocent, Lucinda."
That name made me pause for a moment. Lucinda?
He helped Clara stand, careful like she was made of glass. She collapsed into his arms, and I watched as he glared at me again.
"Alpha Lucio," Clara croaked. "I-I'm fine. Really."
"Lucio?" I echoed, eyes snapping to him.
His jaw clenched as he held onto Clara tighter. "That's Alpha Lucio for you. Don't act like we're close."
"Just wait until Rome hears about this."
He said those words with so much disdain that I found myself swallowing instinctively. However, much more than that, I thoroughly observed everything around me. Just then, I realized that the similarities were uncanny.
The names they'd mentioned also echoed in my mind.
Clara.
Lucio.
Rome.
Lucinda.
Suddenly, I was hyper-aware of the way everyone was looking at me. Their hatred. Their suspicion. The way they averted their eyes whenever I met them. I spun around, taking in the setting again. That staircase. The paintings on the ceiling!
It hit me just this time.
This was my book-The Wolf Prince and the White Rose.
This couldn't be real.
I was dreaming. Yeah. I must be! Maybe the caffeine and the sleep deprivation had gotten to me, and I slipped into a coma and right into this dream.
Yep. That has to be it.
I couldn't be in the same werewolf story I swore I would burn in a pit if I ever saw it in physical print. However, as I glanced around, it became more and more apparent. I was in my own nightmare. A werewolf world I built from the ground up-not out of love, but out of financial need and capitalist desperation.
The story of a lowly omega girl with no mate and no other options-Clara Saint. At 22 years old, she was left on her own and was compelled to take care of her two younger brothers. With that, she left everything behind and took a job as a housemaid in the royal household.
Where, of course, she somehow captured the attention of not one, but three Alphas.
One of them was the heir to the throne of Algard-Romanov Maximillian Percivel Windsor. What a mouthful. He was cold and always rational, but Clara managed to melt his icy heart. And I, Lady Lucindabella Valeska Pendragon (another mouthful), was Rome's mate, a.k.a. Clara's living nightmare.
I looked back down at the trembling, angelic mess that was Clara. If I remembered this chapter correctly, I wrote that Lucinda shoved Clara down the grand staircase after seeing Rome taking her out to dinner.
It was born out of the fact that Rome never invited Lucinda out unless she forced him to. That also meant that, at this point of the story, Lucinda's atrocities were already profound. She had thrown water at Clara's face, treated servants like garbage, and was absolutely obsessed with Rome.
Fuck. Even Clara's necklace that she inherited from her grandmother, the only family she had left before the latter died, was thrown into the fire!
"This can't be," I muttered to myself. I closed my eyes, pinching myself to wake up from this dream-no, from this nightmare.
Suddenly, like the world itself was cementing my fate, the massive doors at the end of the hall creaked open. A hush fell over the room like a wet blanket of dread. Everyone stiffened as he walked in.
Alpha Romanov Maximillian Percivel Windsor.
Tall. Cold. Regal.
His dark hair fell over his brow. His eyes scanned the room slowly, like a predator. He was even more handsome than I had imagined. However, that thought was quickly thrown out of the door when he began making his way toward us.
The crowd parted as he strode forward.
Clara gasped in Lucio's arms. "Alpha Rome..."
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8.0
Everyone in the Shadowfang Pack knew that Alpha Kael was fiercely devoted to his Luna.
To save me, he had sacrificed his own soul to shadow magic.
He had endured the agony of being flayed alive, just to keep me breathing.
He had torn open his own heart, feeding me his blood, just so we could be together.
For three hundred years, I firmly believed I was his Luna, his other half.
But now, I was looking right at him. Kael, my Kael, thrusting his hips forward in a violent, primal rhythm, pinning a woman against the mattress.
A bell hung around her ankle, chiming with his every movement.
It was Lyra. My handmaiden.
Her magic-laced voice slithered into my mind via the mind-link. "Does it hurt, Luna? The Bell of Severance only rings when I feel... pleasure. And with every chime, your soul shatters a little more."
Kael kissed her passionately. "Make it ring louder. I want to hear it."
9.3
One moment I was human, sixteen years old and in love, believing my life would follow a simple, ordinary path. The next, I was taken from everything I knew and thrown into Silverwood Academy, a hidden world where wolf shifters rule, magic breathes, and survival is never guaranteed.
They see me as an anomaly. A girl who should not exist.
My mark is rare, dangerous, and tied to an ancient bloodline that was meant to stay buried. It binds me to a goddess who gives power without mercy and a destiny no one walks away from unchanged.
At Silverwood, strength decides your worth. Alphas test me. Rivals hunt me. Teachers watch, waiting for me to fail. Every full moon pushes me closer to a power I do not fully understand and a future I never asked for.
And then there is love, complicated and cruel in the way only fate can be.
I am torn between the boy I loved as a human, a bond so strong it refuses to break even after death, and a dangerous pull toward a wolf who challenges me, pushes me, and makes me question who I am becoming.
Each choice costs something. Every secret carries blood. The more power I gain, the more I risk losing myself.
They want me to be a weapon. A leader. A legend written in moonlight and war.
But I do not want a throne or a prophecy.
I just want to survive the fate that marked my soul.
Because in this world, destiny is not a gift. It is a debt, and it always demands payment
7.4
Cadence, a modern botanist, woke up to a glaring sun and massive, alien purple leaves blocking the sky. She was stranded in a terrifying, primal world.
Before she could process the metallic smell of blood in the air, a white tiger the size of an SUV crushed a giant boar's neck right in front of her. The beast locked its piercing blue eyes on her hiding spot. But instead of tearing her throat out, a blinding flash of silver light erupted, and the monster transformed into a towering, heavily scarred naked man.
He was Harlan, a shifter who immediately claimed her as his mate under tribal law. Dragged back to his primitive village, Cadence faced a brutal reality. Unbonded females were targets, and she was expected to take multiple mates just to survive. The tribal women mocked her fragile frame, calling her useless. To make matters worse, her foreign scent attracted a rogue serpent-shifter who violently ambushed her in the river.
The icy shock of the serpent's attack plunged Cadence into a deadly, burning fever. The tribe's Shaman tried his healing magic, only to shake his head and abandon her.
"She lacks primal fortitude. She will rely entirely on her own weak vitality. I can do nothing."
As Harlan held her shivering body in despair, Cadence felt a deep sense of desperate injustice. Was she really going to die in a filthy stone hut in an unknown universe, killed by a simple cold?
No. She remembered her grandfather's strict survival lessons. Forcing her heavy eyes open, she grabbed her terrified tiger mate's hand. She didn't need their failing magic; she had science.
"I need specific plants to live. I need white willow bark. And a spicy, ginger-like root."
She rasped, preparing to show this savage world the true power of a modern survivor.
7.6
A jagged spike of agony woke Kiana up in a filthy stone room.
She had transmigrated into the body of a notorious, exiled matriarch in a brutal wasteland.
Before she could even process her new reality, she saw a massive, bloodied man huddled in the corner, trembling in absolute terror.
Foreign memories detonated in her brain: the original Kiana swinging a spiked whip, laughing as she tore his flesh open.
He was her husband, and she was a monster who tortured her own consorts.
The situation was a complete death trap.
Another husband stormed in, throwing down a marriage contract and demanding to sever their ties, which would leave her to be eaten by mutated beasts.
Outside, her third husband lay dying from a toxic wound while the rest of the tribe mocked her, eagerly waiting for her downfall.
Scanning her own body, Kiana discovered her face was covered in ugly purple bruises.
The original host hadn't just been naturally insane; she had been secretly fed a chronic poison by political enemies, destroying her beauty and driving her mad until she was exiled.
As a survivor from a modern apocalypse, the sight of broken, enslaved men made her skin crawl.
She refused to die in this savage wasteland as a pawn in someone else's twisted game.
Kiana tossed the contract back to the furious man.
"Give me three months. I will save him, and I swear I won't touch you."
With her apocalyptic healing powers and a newly awakened Spatial System, she was going to rewrite the rules of this primitive world.
9.5
I woke up gasping from a nightmare of flames devouring Chandler Finch's estate, my body wrapped in burning curtains as I died alone.
But my eyes opened to silk sheets in his penthouse master bedroom. He was alive beside me, his cedarwood scent real. This was my second chance—I'd been reborn.
His phone buzzed: Eugenia Stewart's "emergency." Her security detail reported her refusing meals, unstable. Chandler bolted without a glance, rushing to her side.
I signed the brutal cohabitation contract binding me to him, but Temperance had planted birth control pills in the trash—a trap to frame me. Chandler found them, exploded in jealous rage, crushing the pills to dust. "No child unless it's mine," he growled, possessive fire in his eyes.
Brett, Eugenia's lapdog, stormed in later, accusing me of manipulation. I fired back: Chandler demanded my womb for his heir. Brett paled, fled to tattle.
Then the storm hit—power outage, locked on the terrace in pouring rain, freezing as Eugenia faked an asthma attack on Chandler's line, stealing his focus again. I hung up, huddled with a stray puppy, nearly dying from hypothermia.
He'd never believed me before—Eugenia's lies always won, dooming me to isolation and fire. Why did her every whimper trump my screams? How could he be so blind?
This time, reborn weeks before the inferno, I wouldn't beg. I'd play his game, shatter Eugenia's web, and make Chandler mine—before the flames returned.
7.0
I was the fated mate of Ryker Blackwood, the future Alpha, but my lack of an awakened wolf made me a pathetic joke to his pack.
Instead of protecting me, he publicly rejected me, chose the manipulative Lilith Vane as his Luna, and locked me in a freezing dungeon.
While the entire pack cheered for their final mating ceremony above, I rotted in heavy chains below.
When a rogue attack killed our unborn pups, I reached out to him in agony, but his voice through our fading bond was like splintered ice.
"Our pups are dead. Don't bother me again."
He didn't care at all. The casual dismissal shattered my inner wolf, and I died in that filthy cell, suffocating on my own despair and a hatred so potent it burned through my last breath.
Until my last moment, I couldn't understand why my absolute devotion was met with such cruel betrayal, and why my fated mate let our children die without a second thought.
Opening my eyes again, I wasn't in the dungeon.
I was back in my seventeenth year, choking on the icy water of the lake Lilith had just pushed me into.
Seeing Ryker's arrogant sneer and Lilith's fake concern on the shore, I didn't cry or beg for his attention like I did in my past life.
This time, I would publicly sever our sacred bond, awaken my true Alpha bloodline, and make them pay for every drop of my blood.