Rejected By The Alpha, Carrying His Secret Pup
On our third anniversary, I found out I was pregnant with Alpha Graves's heir, a miracle for my wolfless body.
But when I went to the Grand Hall to share the news, I found him tenderly holding his "dead" first love, Davina. He declared I was just a useless placeholder to appease his grandmother and prepared to sever our mate bond.
He immediately moved Davina into our estate and ordered our marriage portrait torn down. He treated me with absolute cruelty, forcing a toxic herbal brew down my throat that could kill my unborn pup, and even watched coldly as a rival Alpha physically harassed me at a dinner. The entire Pack mocked me as a soon-to-be Rogue, while Graves used his Alpha Command to trap me.
"If you dare leave before I officially complete the Rejection, I will make your home Pack pay."
I gave up my entire life and my design empire to be his devoted wife, only to be thrown out like garbage the moment his true love returned. If he ever found out about the Lycan heir growing inside me, he would surely lock me away and tear my child from my arms.
I won't let him destroy us. I secretly destroyed the pregnancy report and called my best friend. I am accepting his Rejection, taking my baby, and returning to the top of the fashion world as Sloane Todd.
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Chapter 4
Aurelia POV
My phone slipped from my trembling fingers, clattering onto the desk. Graves stood in the doorway, his massive frame blocking the hallway light. The suffocating, intoxicating scent of impending storm and rich leather instantly swallowed the room.
Did he hear me? Panic clawed at my throat. I stared at him, my heart hammering against my ribs. But his glacial eyes held no recognition of my secret plans, only a dark, restless agitation. I could sense his Inner Wolf pacing beneath his skin, bleeding from the fractured bond and our impending separation, though Graves clearly mistook the primal ache for pure annoyance at my disobedience.
He didn't ask who I was talking to. He didn't care.
"We're leaving," he commanded, his voice a lethal, vibrating whip that left no room for argument. "Now."
I swallowed hard, lowering my gaze to hide my guilt, and silently followed him out.
The ride in his custom-built, armored SUV was a suffocating cage. The tinted windows trapped his overwhelming Alpha aura inside with me. A wave of nausea hit me—the early signs of the secret growing in my womb—and I pressed myself against the cold leather door, my skin pale and clammy.
Suddenly, he leaned in. The sheer force of his proximity stole the air from my lungs. I flinched, memories of last night's forced kiss and the bitter medicine flashing through my mind. But he only raised his hand, the icy back of his knuckles brushing against my forehead.
For a fraction of a second, my traitorous heart fluttered. A ridiculous, pathetic thought whispered that maybe he cared.
Then, his jaw clenched. "Whatever game you're playing, stop it," he snapped, pulling his hand back as if my skin burned him. "Your paleness will upset my grandmother, and I will not have her health compromised by your theatrics."
The words felt like a silver blade twisting in my chest. I stared at his sharp profile, the last fragile illusion of the man I loved shattering into dust. He didn't care about my pain. He only cared about his Pack and his family. I bit the inside of my cheek, my resolve to execute the Rejection hardening into steel.
We arrived at the Pack's private Sanatorium. The scent of medicinal herbs and old pine hung heavy in the crisp night air. As we walked toward the entrance, I deliberately slowed my pace, unable to stomach the thought of playing his devoted Luna.
Graves stopped. His eyes darkened as he noted the Pack Doctors and Warriors bowing their heads in respect as they passed. He stepped into my space, his voice dropping to a vicious whisper meant only for my ears.
"You wanted the Rejection. How it proceeds—quickly and quietly, or slowly and painfully for your pathetic home Pack—depends on your performance in the next hour."
A chill seeped into my bones. He was holding my entire Pack hostage over a performance. I had no choice. I stepped forward and stiffly looped my arm through his. The electric jolt of our mate-bond sparked at the contact, a cruel, mocking reminder of what we were supposed to be.
Elder Cecelia's suite was warm, bathed in the soft, warm light of several elegant lamps. The silver-haired former Luna sat in a plush armchair, her sharp, wise eyes lighting up as we entered arm-in-arm.
"Graves. Aurelia," she greeted warmly, reaching out.
I forced a smile, stepping forward to take her frail, wrinkled hands. But as she pulled me closer, Cecelia paused. Her nose twitched. The smile on her face shifted into something far more profound and terrifyingly perceptive.
She inhaled deeply, her gaze piercing right through my carefully constructed defenses.
"Aurelia, my child," Cecelia murmured, a knowing smile touching her lips. "Your scent… it has the whisper of new life in it."
The blood drained from my face. My entire body turned to ice. Panic, raw and suffocating, seized my lungs as I instinctively shot a terrified glance at Graves. Beside me, the Alpha's brow furrowed in deep, dangerous confusion.
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8.0
"Just watch... I'll take you away from that deceitful woman."
Yvette whispered softly, but the resolve in her heart was unshakable.
Her heart shattered as she witnessed the wedding of Aaron-the man she had loved for so long, the very same adoptive brother who once gave her a sense of home-to another woman.
It was no secret.
Aaron knew how she felt.
And yet, he still chose to marry someone else... as if Yvette's love had never meant a thing.
Just when she tried to accept that painful reality, she uncovered a truth far more devastating.
Belinda... was not as kind as she seemed.
The cunning hidden behind her gentle smile only made it harder for Yvette to let go-only strengthened her belief that the man she loved had fallen into the wrong hands.
The love she had once buried deep within her heart had now twisted into something far darker.
An obsession.
Yvette no longer wished to surrender.
She would take back what was meant to be hers... by any means necessary.
Even if it meant destroying their marriage.
9.7
Sienna woke up in a hospital room, her body screaming from a severe car accident. Through the glass, a man paced with violent rage, a dark shadow she felt absolutely nothing for.
Her friend Julia burst in, eyes bloodshot, dropping a bomb: "He didn't even try to help you." Dante, Sienna's fiancé, had protected another woman, Valeria, in the crash, leaving Sienna to burn alive.
Her past life unspooled – seven years sacrificed, an architecture degree abandoned, all to serve Dante. Her phone was a shrine to him: his photos, his "taboos," and even "Valeria's preferences," with no trace of Sienna herself.
But amnesia brought no heartbreak, only a cold, calculating fury. She felt disgust for the "idiot" she'd been, stripped of dignity. The memory loss was a release, a blank slate.
With chilling resolve, Sienna deleted every trace of Dante. Ripping out her IV, she declared, "The wedding proceeds." Not for love, but as a weapon: "I need to take back everything that belongs to me before I disappear."
9.3
On the first anniversary of our reconciliation, I thought my tech mogul husband and I had finally turned a corner. Then I discovered our entire marriage was a spectator sport. It was a cruel, year-long revenge game orchestrated by him and his lover, and I was the punchline.
For their amusement, I was poisoned with food contaminated with dog feces, publicly humiliated with a twenty-million-dollar auction scam, and beaten until my ribs broke by his family's private security. I endured it all, playing the part of the clueless, loving wife while they laughed about it in a group chat called "The Jillian Andrews Comedy Hour."
But their grand finale was a step too far. I overheard him calmly planning to leave me to die in a remote cabin during a blizzard, a "tragic accident" that would finally set him free to be with his mistress.
He thought he was writing the final chapter of my life.
He didn't know I was about to use his murder plot as my own perfect escape. I faked my death, vanished into thin air, and left him to explain to the world how his beloved wife disappeared off the face of the earth.
9.0
Alpha Samson is the most ruthless alpha's around and has the most powerful pack in the world-Blackthorn. Runours cascade around about him, and his wolf, Savage, who is the biggest anyone has ever seen, will rain down on all who go against them. The only thing they are missing is their mate. What happens when all alphas are going to a pack to celebrate the coming of an new alpha, who has only barely turned twelve. Things don't look what they seem, until the luring scent mixed with blood sends Alpha Samson to the cells where he and his beast finds their mate, chained to the wall all bloody and broken. All hell breaks lose. Alora, half wolf and half witch, charged for a crime she never did. What happens when the damaged little woman meets the ruthless alpha who happens to be his mate? When recovering with her mate, things change and all Alora has ever known is a lie of what she is and more. Secrets come out and all Alora and Alpha Samson want is to know the truth and revenge, taking back the pack that is hers to begin with.
9.4
I was Aliana Donovan, a resident physician, finally reunited with the wealthy family I' d been lost from as a child. I had loving parents and a handsome, successful fiancé. I was safe. I was loved. It was a perfect, fragile lie.
The lie shattered on a Tuesday when I discovered my fiancé, Ivan, wasn't at a board meeting but at a sprawling mansion with Kiera Reese, the woman I was told had a mental breakdown five years ago after trying to frame me.
She wasn' t disgraced; she was radiant, holding a little boy, Leo, who giggled in Ivan' s arms.
I overheard their conversation: Leo was their son, and I was merely a "placeholder," a means to an end until Ivan no longer needed my family's connections. My parents, the Donovans, were in on it, funding Kiera' s lavish life and their secret family.
My entire reality-the loving parents, the devoted fiancé, the security I thought I' d found-was a carefully constructed stage, and I was the fool playing the lead role. The casual lie Ivan texted me, "Just got out of the meeting. So exhausting. I miss you. See you at home," while he stood beside his real family, was the final blow.
They thought I was pathetic. They thought I was a fool. They were about to find out just how wrong they were.
7.2
Dr. Kylee Mcdonald was a brilliant medical examiner whose life was defined by cold, mechanical precision.
But that perfect control shattered when her phone rang in the middle of an autopsy.
It was her best friend, Dana, whispering their old college distress code.
"Curtain call."
By the time Kylee and Detective Justice kicked down Dana's door, she lay dead on her couch, her skin a horrifying cherry-red from cyanide.
The crime scene was clumsily staged to frame a billionaire suitor, but soon, every single suspect linked to Dana turned up violently dead.
Internal Affairs pointed the finger at Kylee, accusing her of using her medical expertise to become a vigilante serial killer.
But the encrypted truth Kylee uncovered was far more chilling.
Dana had been severely abused by her boyfriend, and driven to the edge, she manipulated him into murdering their tormentors before executing him and taking her own life.
To avoid a public scandal, the police chief buried Dana's brilliant, terrifying manifesto.
Kylee's flawless mind short-circuited. She was a genius at reading the dead, so why had she been completely blind to the living hell her best friend endured right in front of her?
Three days later, while attending a formal gala to numb her grief, a nearby apartment building exploded in flames.
As Kylee examined the charred bodies pulled from the rubble, she realized the male victim was strangled long before the fire started.
She looked at the surviving mother, whose baby had just died in the blast, but the woman's eyes were completely, terrifyingly empty.
The alarm bells in Kylee's meticulously ordered brain began to chime, signaling that a new, deadly script had just begun.