Rejected Princess, Rising From The Ashes Novel Cover

Rejected Princess, Rising From The Ashes

8.2 / 10.0
For three years, I scrubbed tables as a "wolfless runt," hiding my identity as the Lycan King's daughter. It was a test for my fiancé, Alpha Connor. I wanted to see if he loved the girl, or just the crown. He failed spectacularly tonight. His mistress, Jaden, deliberately knocked a tray of drinks onto me during the dinner rush. The liquid wasn't alcohol. It was concentrated silver. My flesh hissed and bubbled as the poison ate through my skin, blocking any ability to heal. I fell to the floor, clutching my melting hand, while Jaden faked tears and claimed I attacked her. When Connor finally answered the video call, he saw my mangled hand. He smelled the burning flesh. He knew it was silver. But he didn't help me. He looked at his watch, annoyed that I was interrupting his business meeting with investors. "Apologize to Jaden," he ordered, using his Alpha Command to crush me into submission. "On your knees. Now." The pain was blinding, but the betrayal cut deeper. He was forcing his Fated Mate to bow to the woman who tried to maim her. My knees bent under the pressure, but my Royal blood refused to break. I looked straight into the camera lens. "No," I whispered. I reached into my apron, bypassing the notepad, and pulled out a black satellite phone I hadn't touched in years. "Code Black," I said to the King on the other end. "Send the Guard." Connor thought he was disciplining a waitress. He didn't know he just declared war on the Royal Family.

Rejected Princess, Rising From The Ashes Chapter 1

For three years, I scrubbed tables as a "wolfless runt," hiding my identity as the Lycan King's daughter.

It was a test for my fiancé, Alpha Connor. I wanted to see if he loved the girl, or just the crown.

He failed spectacularly tonight.

His mistress, Jaden, deliberately knocked a tray of drinks onto me during the dinner rush.

The liquid wasn't alcohol. It was concentrated silver.

My flesh hissed and bubbled as the poison ate through my skin, blocking any ability to heal.

I fell to the floor, clutching my melting hand, while Jaden faked tears and claimed I attacked her.

When Connor finally answered the video call, he saw my mangled hand. He smelled the burning flesh. He knew it was silver.

But he didn't help me.

He looked at his watch, annoyed that I was interrupting his business meeting with investors.

"Apologize to Jaden," he ordered, using his Alpha Command to crush me into submission.

"On your knees. Now."

The pain was blinding, but the betrayal cut deeper. He was forcing his Fated Mate to bow to the woman who tried to maim her.

My knees bent under the pressure, but my Royal blood refused to break.

I looked straight into the camera lens.

"No," I whispered.

I reached into my apron, bypassing the notepad, and pulled out a black satellite phone I hadn't touched in years.

"Code Black," I said to the King on the other end. "Send the Guard."

Connor thought he was disciplining a waitress.

He didn't know he just declared war on the Royal Family.

Chapter 1

Blake POV:

The tray in my hands felt heavier than usual, but not because of the champagne glasses. It was the weight of the lie I was living.

I adjusted my collar, making sure the small, flesh-colored patch on my neck was secure. Three years. That was the deal I made with my father. To live as a commoner, to let my late-blooming wolf stabilize away from the political vipers at court, and-foolishly-to see if my Fated Mate loved the girl, not the crown.

To the world, and specifically to the Shadow Creek Pack, I was Blake, the wolfless runt. A defect. An Omega who hadn't shifted at eighteen.

In reality, my inner wolf was pacing in the back of my mind, scratching at the mental walls I had built. She was a White Wolf, a creature of legend and royalty, the daughter of the Lycan King. But here, in the Velvet Lounge, I was just a waitress wiping tables.

Don't embarrass me tonight, Blake. We have investors coming. The Redstone deal is critical.

The voice echoed in my head, sharp and intrusive. Connor Bishop, the Alpha of Shadow Creek and my fiancé, sounded more stressed than usual. He'd been obsessed with these new "foreign investors" for weeks, ignoring the warnings from the border patrols about increased Rogue activity.

I'm doing my job, Connor, I replied, keeping my mental tone submissive. I'm invisible.

Good. Keep it that way.

He cut the link abruptly. The silence that followed was worse than the scolding.

The Velvet Lounge was the pride of the Shadow Creek territory. It was where the high-ranking wolves mingled with wealthy humans who remained oblivious to the predators in their midst. The air was thick with the scent of expensive cologne, roasted meat, and the underlying, musky odor of wolf pheromones.

Suddenly, the heavy oak doors swung open with a bang.

A hush fell over the room. Walking in was a woman in a dress so pink it hurt my eyes. Jaden. She wasn't high-born, but she walked with the arrogance of a Luna. She had saved Connor's sister years ago, earning a "Blood Oath"-a sacred promise of protection that she exploited every single day.

She didn't wait for the host. She marched right past the security, her heels clicking loudly on the marble floor.

Mark, the floor manager, rushed forward. Mark was a Beta, a mid-ranking wolf who bowed to power. He practically tripped over himself to get to her.

"Miss Jaden! What a surprise. We have the VIP booth ready," Mark said, his voice dripping with oil.

Jaden didn't look at him. Her eyes scanned the room and landed on me. A cruel smirk twisted her lips.

"I don't want the booth," she said, her voice carrying over the music. "I want service. Proper service. Not from some wolfless cripple."

I froze. I was wiping down table four. I kept my head down, scrubbing a non-existent spot.

Jaden walked up to me. She smelled of synthetic vanilla and rot. She pulled her car keys out of her purse and dropped them. They clattered onto the floor, right next to my shoe.

"Park my car," she ordered.

I stopped scrubbing. "I'm a waitress, Jaden. Not a valet."

The room went silent. An Omega talking back to a protected guest? It was unheard of.

Jaden laughed, a high-pitched sound that grated on my nerves. "Did the runt just speak? Mark, does your staff not know their place?"

Mark stepped in, his face red. He grabbed my arm, his fingers digging into my bicep. "Pick them up, Blake. Now."

"I am busy," I said through gritted teeth. My inner wolf let out a low growl, vibrating in my chest. I clamped down on it instantly. If I growled, if I showed any dominance, the suppressor might fail.

"Connor wouldn't like you upsetting his guest," Mark hissed in my ear. "Do you want me to call him? Do you want him to come down here and see you failing him again?"

I felt a sting of tears. Not from fear, but from frustration. I opened the Mind-Link again.

Connor. Jaden is here. She's making a scene. Mark is forcing me to-

Just do what she says, Blake, Connor's voice came back instantly, impatient and dismissive. She's important to the pack. Stop being difficult. It's just a set of keys.

She is humiliating me, I projected back.

You are humiliating yourself by being so sensitive. Deal with it. I'm in a meeting.

The link went dead.

I looked at the phone in my pocket. My hand trembled. My wolf, usually so composed, let out a whimper of pure disappointment. It wasn't sadness. It was the realization that the man destined to be my other half was hollow.

Slowly, I bent down. I reached for the keys.

Jaden kicked them just as my fingers brushed the metal, sending them skittering under a table.

"Oops," she grinned. "Fetch."

Continue Reading

Rejected Princess, Rising From The Ashes of Contents

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 4 Ch. 5
Ch. 6
Ch. 7
Ch. 8
Ch. 9
Ch. 10
Ch. 11
all

You may also like

New Release Novels

Alpha's Betrayal, New Bond Novel Cover
7.9
The scent of pine and mountain air clung to my skin as I stepped into the sprawling neutral-territory lodge. My heart fluttered with anticipation, one hand instinctively resting on my still-flat stomach where our future heir grew. Three weeks of morning sickness had confirmed what my wolf, Luna, had already whispered to me – I was carrying Michael's pup, the future Alpha of Silver Creek Pack. "He's going to be so happy," I whispered to my wolf, feeling her eager agreement pulse through our shared consciousness. *He'll finally look at us the way he did when we first mated,* Luna murmured inside my mind. I hadn't told anyone about my pregnancy, not even my mother back in the Moonstone Pack. This moment belonged to Michael first – my Alpha, my mate, the man who had swept me into his world three years ago with promises of devotion and protection. The marble floors echoed beneath my careful steps as I followed the familiar trail of Michael's scent – sandalwood and authority, a commanding presence that had always made my knees weak. The diplomatic meetings between packs had kept him away for nearly two weeks, and though he'd ordered me to stay at our pack house, I couldn't bear to wait another day to share our miracle. My fingers trembled slightly as I traced his scent down a long corridor lined with carved wooden doors.
Bound By Contract, Tied By Faith  Novel Cover
8.6
Ivy Hart didn't just lose love, she was destroyed by it. Publicly betrayed by the man she thought she'd marry, her heartbreak becomes a spectacle she can't escape. Humiliated, angry, and done believing in forever, Ivy swears she'll never be that vulnerable again. Then Damian Blackwood steps in. Ruthless. Possessive. A man who doesn't ask, he takes. His offer is simple, his tone is not: Marry me. A contract. Strict rules. No love. No questions. But Ivy quickly learns one thing. Damian doesn't share. Not his power. Not his control. And definitely not what he considers his. What was supposed to be a cold, calculated arrangement turns suffocatingly intense. The way he watches her. The way he touches her. The way his voice drops when he says, "You're mine, Ivy." It's not part of the contract. And neither is the jealousy that burns in his eyes when her past comes crawling back, begging for a second chance. Because Damian doesn't believe in love... But he believes in possession. And once he's claimed something, he never lets it go. As secrets unravel and the truth behind their marriage begins to surface, Ivy realizes she didn't just sign a contract. She signed herself over to a man who would destroy anyone who tries to take her away... even if that means destroying her too. When the contract ends, one question remains: Will Ivy walk away with her heart intact... or will Damian make sure she never leaves at all?
He Married Me Just for Money Novel Cover
8.3
“Don’t stop,” she whispered. “She won’t come up.” I did. I stopped breathing. Thinking. Existing. The voice came from inside my bedroom—our bedroom. My sanctuary. I stood frozen in the hallway, dinner still warm downstairs, candles flickering in a room that no longer mattered. The scent of truffle butter still clung to my sleeves. Through the door—left carelessly ajar—I saw enough. A woman with auburn hair and wine-colored nails was curled into my husband's side, her lipstick smeared across his throat like a bruise. Her fingers skimmed down his back, possessive, practiced. Oliver moaned softly. A sound I hadn’t heard in months. I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry. I turned. Through the adjoining bathroom, I slipped into the walk-in closet, hiding behind the luxury he insisted I needed. Dresses lined in neat rows. Shoes in pyramids. A fortress of silk and leather and betrayal. I sat down, gripping the hem of my dress, listening. “I don’t know why you’re still stalling,” Lily said, her voice languid and confident. “She’s not stupid, Oliver. She’s suspicious. You said she keeps asking questions.” He sighed. “Let her ask. She won’t do anything. Not until it’s too late.” A beat. “She’s planning something tonight,” he added, almost amused. “Made some kind of fancy dinner. Probably filet again. It’s sweet, in a tragic way.” Lily giggled. “You think she’s figured out we’ve been using her?” “Scarlett sees what she wants to see. She’s desperate. That’s what makes it easy.” There was movement on the bed. Sheets shifting. “She still has no idea about the inheritance?” Lily murmured. “None,” he said. “Her father’s trust releases next month. Once the money hits the accounts, I’ll serve the papers. I’ve already started moving things offshore.” My throat closed. I bit the inside of my cheek so hard I tasted blood. So this was what I got from our five-year marriage.
He Saw My Soul, Not My Scars Novel Cover
9.4
My husband, Jeremiah, let me die from an allergic reaction because he couldn't pause his video game. He dismissed my kidnapping as a prank and refused to come to the hospital when I was miscarrying our child. But the final straw came when he ordered doctors to carve skin from my body for his mistress's minor burn. He thought he had broken me, but he was wrong. I exposed his affair, took his company, and left him with nothing. Years later, he crashed my wedding to another man, begging for a second chance. "Elena lied to me! She manipulated me! It was always you, Celina!" I looked at the monster who had destroyed my life, my family, and my child. Then I picked up a wine bottle and smashed it over his head.
Just like the evening breeze leaves no trace Novel Cover
9.7
Chapter 1 It was their seventh wedding anniversary. Carolyn found the divorce agreement in Roger’s nightstand. The pages were covered in scribbles and corrections, as if he’d agonized over them for years. *"If, during the marriage, I fall in love with another person, I voluntarily relinquish all assets and leave with nothing. Asset details as follows…"* His first impulse had been to walk away empty-handed. But the asset section told a different story—a mess of revisions. First, he’d crossed out the property he intended to give her. Then, the fifty million earmarked for her was scratched out and replaced with five hundred thousand. Finally, as if in penance, he had written a single line. *"Better to have Carolyn leave with nothing. No choice, Catherine is pregnant."* … Carolyn sank onto the bed, disbelief washing over her. On the agreement, Roger’s signature was clean and decisive, without a hint of hesitation. And the document had been drafted seven years ago—the very year they married. That year, Roger had been willing to give up everything for her. Yet every year after, he had crossed out another piece of their shared life. Now, seven years later, the one leaving with nothing would be her. Her phone buzzed abruptly. A message from Roger. *"Urgent business. Won't be back."* She called, only to find his phone already switched off. Another notification flashed—a screenshot from a friend. Catherine, the student she sponsored, had posted on social media. *"Wow, got praised! To commemorate my first period without a leak, the big boss said we should celebrate properly!"* In a nine-photo collage, Roger gazed at her, eyes crinkling with affection as he fastened a dazzling gemstone necklace around her neck. The post was tagged at a couples-themed hotel. Carolyn’s breath caught. He couldn’t remember seven years of marriage, of weathering storms together—but he could find the energy to celebrate Catherine’s… leak-free period. And that pendant… she’d seen it at an auction just last week. It was her mother’s lost heirloom. She’d been ready to bid when her bank card was frozen. She’d asked Roger why. A long time later, he finally texted back, telling her not to waste money on such impractical things. Clutching her bidding paddle, she’d sat helplessly in the auction hall. In the end, she resolved to sell one of her own designs to raise the funds. But someone on the phone swooped in with an unbeatable offer and took it. For weeks afterward, Carolyn hated herself—hated that she couldn’t protect her mother’s last keepsake. She never imagined the one who snatched it away was Roger. He knew exactly how much that pendant meant to her. Yet he gave it to Catherine. Even on their seventh anniversary, Roger had lied about being busy with work, while wining and dining the girl she’d sponsored. The anniversary gift he left her was a divorce agreement demanding she leave with nothing. Seven years of marriage. Seven years of infidelity. And Carolyn had known nothing. She’d even introduced the other woman to him herself. Catherine was the impoverished student Carolyn sponsored. The first time Catherine came to their home to give thanks, Roger found her intrusive and disliked her on sight. *"That girl has no manners. Tracked mud all over my cashmere rug."* *"If her grades aren’t up to par, cut the sponsorship."* Back then, Carolyn had teased him, saying not to be jealous—it was good the girl had a grateful heart. She never once suspected Roger and Catherine. For seven years, everyone in their circle believed Roger never played around. That he loved only Carolyn. But by their next meeting, Catherine had become Roger’s personal assistant. Roger explained, *"The girl’s had it tough. You’ve sponsored her for years. Giving her a job is just helping you out."* Carolyn had laughed it off. Now, hands trembling, she opened Catherine’s social media feed. Catherine had always hidden her posts from Carolyn. Now, she seemed desperate to flaunt everything. While Carolyn drank until her stomach bled to secure a deal for Roger, Catherine was using Roger’s card to buy her first Louis Vuitton. While Carolyn changed bedpans for Roger’s bedridden grandmother, Roger was taking Catherine to a perfume atelier for a blending class—calling it a business trip. Catherine had even complained online. *"Your wife is such a pampered princess. Can't handle the tiniest thing without you running back. Can she not live without a man?"* And Roger had replied beneath it. *"If she were half as independent as you, I’d have an easier life."* But that day… Carolyn’s mother had lost her battle with cancer. She’d cried until her heart felt shredded, scrambling to handle the arrangements. All the while, Roger kept checking his phone impatiently, eager to leave. Not for work, she realized now—but because he was desperate to get back to Catherine.
Mated To The Ruthless Blood Moon Alpha Novel Cover
8.6
Today was my father's grand second wedding, but for me, it was the anniversary of my mother's death. My new stepmother, Marley, who was only four years older than me, cornered me. To establish her dominance as the new Luna, she ordered her servants to force me to my knees and violently ripped my late mother's necklace from my neck. It was the only memento my mother had left me. Marley sneered, threw it to the ground, and shattered the gems. When I scrambled to pick up the broken pieces, she dug her high-heeled shoe into the back of my hand, mocking me as dirty trash. No one stepped in to help. My father was too busy celebrating his new marriage under the dazzling lights, completely erasing my mother's memory and leaving me to be abused in my own pack. My heart was full of grievance and despair. Why did my mother's lifelong devotion end with her grave desolate and her daughter humiliated? I swore I would never become a weak, discarded she-wolf whose life depended on a man. Desperate to escape the suffocating wedding, I ran outside and stumbled right into the chest of a terrifying stranger. "No one should ever touch what is precious to you." His golden eyes blazed with fury as sparks instantly shot through my veins. He was Kade Blackwood, the ruthless Alpha of the feared Blood Moon Pack—and my fated mate.
Chapters
Read now
Share