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 7
Adella POV
The silence in the penthouse was heavy, weighted with the scent of roasted rosemary and the ozone-charged storm that was Dallas Marshall's natural aroma. Sitting at the massive ebony dining table, I felt like an imposter in a king's court. The city lights of New York glittered through the floor-to-ceiling windows, a sprawling galaxy beneath our feet, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from the man at the head of the table.
Dallas sliced his steak with surgical precision, his face a mask of indifference. Beside me, Azalea was vibrating with barely suppressed rage.
"You should have seen him, Dad," Azalea said, stabbing a potato with her fork. "Braydon Hyde. He grabbed her arm like he owned her. In the middle of a public store! You can't just blacklist him. You need to crush him. Burn the Hyde Pack to the ground."
The fork froze halfway to my mouth. A cold spike of terror pierced my chest, instantly overriding my appetite.
Burn it to the ground.
"No," I whispered, the word slipping out before I could stop it.
Dallas paused, his knife resting against the porcelain plate with a soft clink. He lifted his gaze, his obsidian eyes locking onto mine. "No?"
My hands started to tremble, and I hid them in my lap, clenching the linen napkin. "Please, Dallas. You can't destroy the whole Pack."
"They hurt you," Azalea argued, her brows knitting together. "Why would you defend them?"
"It's not Braydon I'm worried about," I said, my voice shaking. "When the Hyde Pack absorbed my parents' territory... they took in the families who worked our land. The elderly, the wolfless, the ones too weak to fight back. They are still there, living in the shadows of the estate. If you declare total war... if you destroy their economy or their homes... they are the ones who will starve first."
I looked at Dallas, pleading silently. I was asking a monster to show mercy, a businessman to ignore profit and vengeance.
Dallas set his knife down. He picked up his wine glass, swirling the dark red liquid, watching the legs run down the side.
"Do you think I am a blunt instrument, Adella?" his voice was low, a velvet rumble that seemed to vibrate through the floorboards.
"I... I don't know," I admitted.
"I don't carpet bomb," he said, his eyes dark and unreadable. "I use a scalpel. My war is with the Hyde bloodline, not the dirt they walk on or the people they subjugate." He took a sip, his gaze never leaving my face. "I have done my due diligence. I know exactly who lives on the Moonstone Creek estate. No harm will come to the innocent."
I blinked, stunned. Due diligence? He spoke as if he knew the demographics of a fallen pack better than I did. A strange warmth bloomed in my chest, confusing me. Why would the Alpha King care about a few dozen displaced workers?
Before I could ask, a sharp buzz from the wall panel interrupted us.
The intercom crackled to life. "Alpha Marshall. We have a situation in the lobby."
Dallas didn't even look at the panel. "Report."
"It's Braydon Hyde, sir," the head of security said, his voice tense. "He's demanding entry. He claims Miss Everett is a ward of the Hyde Pack and that we are unlawfully detaining her."
The blood drained from my face. The fork clattered onto my plate.
He's here.
Phantom fingers seemed to bruise my arm again. The air in the room suddenly felt too thin. I could smell Braydon's cheap cologne in my memory, feel his hot breath on my neck. I pushed my chair back, the legs scraping harshly against the floor.
"He found me," I whispered, panic seizing my throat. "He's going to take me back."
"Sit down, Adella," Dallas commanded. It wasn't a shout, but the sheer authority in his voice made my body obey before my mind could process it.
Dallas stood up. He didn't look angry. He looked... bored. He walked over to the intercom panel on the wall, his movements fluid and predatory. He pressed the talk button.
"Put him on," Dallas said.
A second later, Braydon's voice filled the room, distorted by the speaker but unmistakable in its arrogance. "Marshall! Send her down. You have no right to keep her. She belongs to the Hyde Pack. If you don't release her, I'll—"
"You will do nothing," Dallas interrupted. His voice dropped an octave, laced with a growl that made the hair on my arms stand up. It was the Alpha's Command—pure, distilled dominance. "Listen closely, boy. You are trespassing on my territory. You have exactly sixty seconds to remove yourself from my building."
"You can't threaten me!" Braydon spluttered, though his voice wavered. "I want to see Adella!"
"If you are not outside these doors in sixty seconds," Dallas continued, his tone icy and final, "I will consider it an act of war. I will have you arrested for cross-Pack trespassing and harassment of the Alpha King's Mate. And then, I will personally come down there and remove your head from your shoulders."
Silence stretched over the line. Heavy. Suffocating.
Then, the sound of shuffling feet. The connection clicked off.
Dallas released the button and turned back to us. The lethal darkness in his eyes vanished, replaced by that unreadable calm.
"Eat your dinner, Adella," he said, walking back to his chair as if he hadn't just threatened to execute a rival heir.
I stared at him, my heart hammering against my ribs. "He... he could still come up. The elevators..."
"The elevators require a retina scan," Dallas said, picking up his knife. "Currently, only three people in this world have clearance to access this floor. Myself, Azalea, and you." He looked at me, his expression softening just a fraction. "The contract isn't just paper, Adella. It's a wall. And nothing gets past my walls."
I looked at the man sitting across from me. For years, I had feared Alphas. I had feared their power, their tempers. But as the scent of cedar and storm wrapped around me, displacing my fear, I realized something terrifying.
I wasn't afraid of him. For the first time in my life, I felt safe. And that was far more dangerous than fear.
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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.