Rejected Luna, Claimed by the King
As a wolfless charity case at the Hyde Pack's celebration, my world shattered when Braydon, my supposed protector, publicly announced Katherine Parrish as his Luna, erasing me.
Heartbroken, I fled into a terrifying contract marriage with Alpha King Dallas Marshall for protection. Braydon's public assault and threats forced me to reveal my secret marriage, challenging the King.
My "protection" felt like a prison. Braydon revealed I was a "key" to power, not a mate, confirming my fears. Enraged by my attempt to take a morning-after pill, Dallas forced me to swallow it, then branded my lips with a furious kiss.
His chilling silence hardened my resolve. I immediately drafted an addendum to our contract, setting strict boundaries to reclaim control.
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Chapter 3
Adella POV
The interior of the Aston Martin didn't smell like new leather. It smelled like him.
Crushed cedar and the ozone of a gathering storm filled the cabin, heavy and suffocating. It was a sensory assault, a reminder that even miles away, Dallas Marshall was wrapping his fingers around my throat. I sat in the driver's seat, my hands gripping the wheel until my knuckles turned white.
"Connect your phone," Azalea urged, buckling her seatbelt. "This sound system is insane. I want to hear bass that rattles my teeth."
I fumbled with my cracked iPhone, plugging it into the sleek console. The system synced instantly, the large touchscreen dashboard lighting up. But before I could select a playlist, a message notification expanded across the entire screen, the letters bold and impossible to ignore.
Braydon: Stop playing games. Come home. You belong here.
The air in the car grew stagnant. The words hung there, glowing with a possessive toxicity that made my stomach churn.
Azalea let out a low whistle. "Wow. That's not just interested, that's creepy, obsessive psycho level." She poked the screen with a manicured nail. "He thinks you're a lost puppy, doesn't he? 'Come home.' Gross."
"He doesn't like losing things he considers his property," I muttered, quickly disconnecting the phone to banish his words.
"Well, you're driving a car worth more than his entire house now," Azalea smirked, leaning back. "Let him choke on that."
I forced a weak smile, starting the engine. The car purred like a beast waking from slumber. I was fleeing one monster only to drive straight into the lair of another, and the irony tasted like ash in my mouth.
Ten minutes later, we were huddled in a booth at the campus coffee shop. The scent of roasted beans and sugary pastries usually calmed me, but today, my nerves were wire-tight.
"You need to see this," Azalea said, sliding her phone across the table. Her playful demeanor had vanished, replaced by a sharp, protective edge.
On the screen was The Howler, the Pack's exclusive social media app. A photo of Katherine Parrish smirked back at me, her arm draped possessively over a brooding Braydon. But it was the caption that made my blood run cold.
Cleaning house. Finally getting rid of the wolfless parasites who think they can climb the ladder by clinging to Alphas. Purity matters.
"She's talking about me," I whispered, the shame burning my cheeks. The comments section was already filling with laughing emojis and cruel agreements from other Pack members.
"Don't worry," Azalea said, taking a sip of her latte. "I handled it."
I looked closer. Underneath Katherine's post, Azalea Sterling-daughter of the Alpha King-had commented a single emoji: a wolf skull.
In our world, that wasn't just a comment. It was a death threat. It meant you are dead to me.
"Azalea, you shouldn't have-"
"She's a bitch, and she's boring," Azalea interrupted, waving a hand dismissively. "Besides, you have bigger things to worry about. Like... that."
She pointed a finger at my neck.
I froze. In my agitation, I must have tugged at the cashmere scarf Dallas had left for me. I quickly tried to readjust it, but Azalea's hand shot out, stopping me. Her honey-colored eyes widened, her nostrils flaring as she inhaled sharply.
"That's no bruise from a fall, Adella," she hissed, leaning in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "That's a claiming mark."
Panic seized my chest. The dark, purple mark on the sensitive skin of my neck throbbed under her scrutiny. It was where Dallas's teeth had grazed me last night, leaving a very obvious, very possessive souvenir.
"I... I walked into a door," I stammered, the lie tasting sour.
"Bullshit," Azalea scoffed. "I know what that kind of mark looks like. It reeks of possession." She narrowed her eyes, scanning my face. "Who is he? And don't tell me it's Braydon, because that's fresh, and it smells like... power."
I couldn't tell her. I couldn't tell the Alpha King's daughter that her father had bought me, claimed me, and married me in a span of twelve hours.
"It's... complicated," I managed, looking down at my coffee. "He's an older man. Someone... powerful."
Azalea stared at me for a long moment, the tension stretching thin. Then, unexpectedly, she grinned.
"An older man? A sugar daddy?" She laughed, delighted. "Oh my Goddess, Adella! That is the perfect revenge. Let Braydon rot while you get pampered by some rich, powerful Alpha. I love it."
I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. She didn't know.
Just then, Azalea's phone buzzed on the table. The screen flashed a caller ID that made her smile vanish instantly: The Bank.
"It's my dad," she whispered, her posture straightening reflexively. She answered, her voice shifting from gossip-girl to obedient daughter. "Hi, Dad."
I watched her face, my heart hammering against my ribs. She listened for a moment, her eyes flicking to me with a confused expression.
"Now? But I have Econ in an hour," she protested weakly. A pause. The voice on the other end was low, indistinct, but the tone of absolute command was unmistakable. "Okay. Yes, sir. We're coming."
She hung up and looked at me, grabbing her bag.
"Change of plans," Azalea said, her voice tight. "He wants us at the flagship store downtown. Immediately."
"Us?" I asked, dread pooling in my stomach.
"Yeah. He said you need to be prepped for a dinner tonight." She looked at me, a flicker of suspicion warring with her confusion. "Adella, what kind of 'translation work' requires a gala dress?"
I gripped the edge of the table, the platinum ring on my finger feeling heavier than ever. Dallas wasn't just keeping me; he was putting me on display.
"I don't know," I lied again, standing up on shaky legs.
But I did know. The King was summoning his property.
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8.4
To keep her grandmother on life support, Aracely was blackmailed into taking Evelyn's place in the pitch-black bedroom of the ruthless billionaire, Brennen Levine.
After that night, Evelyn tossed a hideous silicone scar at her feet, forcing Aracely to glue it to her face and work as a bottom-tier maid in his estate so he would never recognize her.
Brennen, suffering from chronic insomnia, was completely addicted to the sweet gardenia scent of the woman from the dark. But when he saw the "disfigured" Aracely scrubbing floors, he was physically repulsed, publicly humiliating her and calling her a monster.
Meanwhile, Evelyn paraded around as his soon-to-be wife. Terrified of her lies unraveling, Evelyn constantly abused Aracely, throwing scalding coffee at her face and threatening to pull the plug on her grandmother if Aracely didn't sneak back into Brennen's room to act as his human sleeping pill.
Aracely endured the suffocating fake scar, the insults, and the freezing servant quarters. She ground her teeth, swallowing the bitter injustice just to keep her only family alive, wondering when this torturous hell would ever end.
But Evelyn's malice knew no bounds. When Evelyn raised her hand to strike again, threatening to rip off the very disguise she forced Aracely to wear, something inside Aracely finally snapped.
"Do not push me."
Aracely locked her hand around Evelyn's wrist in a bone-crushing grip, completely unaware that Brennen was watching from the balcony above, his dark eyes narrowing as a dangerous realization hit him.
7.0
She was desperate. He was merciless.
Liana Moore's sister's life is on the line, and the only person who can save her is Dominic Vale-the man who destroyed her family years ago.
One year. One marriage. One chance to survive.
Dominic is cold, controlling, and unforgiving. Liana is fierce, stubborn, and trapped in a union built on hatred and power.
But when secrets are revealed and the line between punishment and protection blurs, the fire between them becomes impossible to ignore.
In a marriage never meant to exist, love is the most dangerous risk of all.
7.2
My family went bankrupt overnight, leaving me to face a mountain of predatory debt.
Instead of standing by my side, my billionaire fiancé's mother threw a five-million-dollar check on the marble table, demanding I take the money and disappear from her son's life forever.
Meanwhile, my former social circle mocked my downfall. They secretly took photos of me meeting with ruthless loan sharks, waiting for me to come crawling back to beg for charity.
I didn't give them the satisfaction. I legally took on my father's massive debt, threw the check back, and ruthlessly dumped my fiancé.
To stop my heartbroken mother from worrying, I lied and told her I had already found a new, reliable boyfriend.
But the lie was a ticking time bomb. My malicious rival even forced her way into my cramped apartment, demanding to meet this mysterious man, laughing that he must live in a dumpster.
I was suffocating under the pressure. I had nothing, and I had no idea how I was supposed to magically produce a husband to get these toxic people off my back.
Until a dying stranger I helped in the park made a final wish.
His grandson—my cold, aloof high school upperclassman, Caleb Barnes—handed me a watertight prenuptial agreement at the hospital.
"Marry me," Caleb said flatly. "I get to give my grandfather peace. You get a shield against your family."
I picked up the pen and signed my name.
7.8
After eight years in a cold marriage, I watched my husband, Damian, run past me during a raging fire. He ignored my screams, his only focus on saving another woman.
That night, he coldly admitted he never loved me. Our entire marriage was just a business deal he was forced into.
But his betrayal didn't end there. His mistress, Aida, framed my innocent younger brother for a crime he didn't commit. Damian believed her lies without question.
He stood by as she had my brother murdered in his hospital bed. He even forced me to crawl over broken glass to apologize for "upsetting" her.
The final blow came when he threatened me with my mother' s heirloom box, not knowing it held my brother' s ashes. He had taken everything from me-my love, my family, my dignity.
He thought he had broken me. But he only forged me into a weapon.
Now, I'm back. And as the new majority shareholder of his company, I'm here to make him pay for every last sin.
9.3
I sacrificed my dream career for my fiancé, only to find him cheating with his older investor-a betrayal that led to my mother's death.
He reached a new level of cruelty when he dumped my mother's ashes in the trash and conspired to have my wedding dress disintegrate off my body at the altar.
I vanished for five years, building a new life with a new family, but now he's found us-and just saved my daughter's life to force his way back in.
9.4
I used to believe love meant enduring. Staying. Shrinking myself so someone else could grow.
I told myself it was worth it-hiding who I was, working jobs I never had to work, pretending my life was smaller than it was. I loved him. I thought that was enough.
It wasn't.
He chose her.
My best friend looked me in the eyes and took everything I had built with him. And I remember standing there, wondering how I could feel so empty when my heart was still beating.
For a long time, I blamed myself. For trusting too much. For giving too much. For not being enough.
But I'm tired of carrying guilt that was never mine.
I am not broken. I was betrayed.
And there's a difference.
I'm going back-not to beg, not to explain-but to take back the parts of myself I abandoned. My name. My power. My voice. They don't know who I really am, and that might be the only advantage I have left.
Then he appears-calm, powerful, watching me like he sees the cracks I try to hide. And suddenly, revenge doesn't feel as simple as it used to. Neither does healing.
This is my second chance.
Not to love recklessly... but to choose myself, even if it changes everything.