Secret Princess: The Beast's Captive Mate
In a world where the Wither virus turned surviving women into breeding livestock, Elinore was disguised as a boy at birth just to survive.
For twenty-one years, she lived a suffocating lie as the ruthless Prince of Navia, binding her chest and hiding her true gender. But her fragile reality shattered when her uncle, the tyrant King Orestus, casually gambled away her older sister Josefina in a card game.
Elinore kicked down the doors and violently rescued her sister, holding a short sword to the sweaty minister's throat.
"She is my legal property now! The King bet her and lost!" the minister screamed, waving the royal wax seal.
Elinore forced him to flee, but the aftermath was devastating. Their parents had been murdered by the King a decade ago, leaving them as captive pawns. Josefina, completely broken and terrified, wept in Elinore's arms. She actually begged to be sold off to a distant, savage kingdom just to escape the daily, inescapable hell of their uncle's court.
Stripping off her heavy military uniform in the dead of night, Elinore stared at her bruised, female body in the mirror. She was drowning in a suffocating sense of injustice. Why did women have to live as prey?
But an even deeper, more terrifying mystery was waking up inside her.
A strange, feverish heat began pulsing deep in her abdomen—an alien biological demand she couldn't control. That very night, she dreamed of a monstrous, seven-foot-tall Urekai beast pinning her to the freezing mud, its glowing yellow eyes claiming her as its mate.
Her disguise was failing, and her own body was betraying her. To save her sister and uncover the truth behind her awakening, the fake Prince decided it was time to burn this tyrannical kingdom to the ground.
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Chapter 5
Agnes gathered her empty copper basin and the blood-soaked rags. She moved like a ghost, slipping out of the delivery room and pulling the heavy stone door shut behind her without making a sound.
The room fell into a suffocating silence. Alistair walked heavily to the washbasin. He scrubbed the dried blood from his hands, the freezing water biting into his frayed nerves.
He turned around. Pandora was leaning back against the headboard. Her eyes were hollow, staring blankly at the wooden cradle where Elinore lay swaddled in the oversized boy's gown.
Alistair crossed the room and carefully pulled his wife into his arms. Pandora's body shook against his chest like a leaf caught in a winter storm.
"We did it, Pandora. She's safe. At least for now," Alistair whispered, pressing his lips to the crown of her sweat-dampened hair.
Right then, the iron handle of the door gave a faint, metallic squeak.
Alistair's muscles instantly locked. His hand flew to the hilt of the dagger at his waist.
The door pushed open just a crack. A small head peeked inside. It was their six-year-old daughter, Princess Josefina.
Josefina was barefoot, wearing only a thin white nightgown. She had clearly sneaked past the sleeping matrons guarding her quarters.
Alistair let out a long breath and dropped his hand from the blade. He motioned for her to come in.
Josefina tiptoed across the cold floor. The rims of her eyes were red and swollen. The rumors from the Great Hall had already reached her. She knew Orestus was planning to sell her.
But when her eyes landed on the wooden cradle, the sheer terror in her face was briefly replaced by a spark of innocent curiosity. She stood on her tiptoes, leaning over the edge of the crib.
She reached out a slender finger and gently poked Elinore's sleeping cheek. The baby smacked her lips and blew a tiny bubble of spit.
"Mother, is it a sister?" Josefina turned her head, her eyes wide with desperate hope. In a world where women were hunted, a sister was a miracle.
Pandora's heart seized. Fresh tears instantly flooded her eyes. She sucked in a breath, forcing her trembling lips into a broken, agonizing smile.
"No, Josefina," Pandora said. She reached out and grabbed her eldest daughter's freezing hand. "It is a brother. You have a baby brother."
Josefina blinked. A flash of disappointment crossed her features, but it melted away into a fierce, protective warmth. She leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to Elinore's forehead.
"That's okay," the six-year-old girl whispered. Her voice was young, but her vow was absolute iron. "I will protect him, Mother. I will protect my brother with my life."
Hearing those words, Pandora couldn't hold it in anymore. She slapped a hand over her mouth to muffle a gut-wrenching sob. Tears cascaded down her face. She looked up at Alistair, who gave her a slow, devastated nod of approval. Pandora reached out and pulled her eldest daughter close, pressing her forehead against Josefina's.
"Listen to me, my brave girl," Pandora whispered, her voice trembling. "This is not your brother. She is your little sister. But the King and the world outside will take her away if they know. We must pretend she is a boy to keep her alive. You must never tell anyone. Can you keep this secret?"
Josefina's wide eyes darted from the baby to her mother. The innocence in her gaze hardened into a fierce, premature understanding. She nodded solemnly. "I promise, Mother. I will protect my sister."
Her eldest daughter was about to be shipped off to a living hell, yet here she was, swearing to die for a sister whose very existence was a death sentence. The weight of that sacrifice was unbearable.
Alistair wrapped his large arms around both of his daughters and his weeping wife. The four of them huddled together in the flickering candlelight, a fragile, doomed island in a sea of monsters.
Hours passed. Josefina fell asleep slumped against the side of the bed, her fingers still gripping the edge of Elinore's cradle.
Outside, the violent storm finally broke. The thick, black clouds tore open, allowing a single, cold beam of moonlight to pierce through the high, narrow window. The light fell directly onto the cradle.
Alistair walked to the window. He looked up at the pale, crescent moon. He pressed his palms together and closed his eyes.
He prayed to the Goddess of Fate. He begged for a miracle. He pleaded for the gods to shield his daughters from the meat grinder of this world.
The moonlight remained freezing and indifferent. The gods gave no answer. The only sound was the clanking of armor from the guards changing shifts on the outer wall-a brutal reminder of reality.
Alistair opened his eyes. The desperation was gone, replaced by a cold, hardened resolve. If the gods wouldn't answer, he would fight the tyrant with his own bare hands.
He walked back to the cradle and stared down at Elinore's peaceful, sleeping face, burning the image into his memory.
The view pulled back. Out of the stone window, over the dark, sprawling corridors of the palace, and past the heavily fortified walls.
The entire city of Navia was dead silent under the night sky. A murder of crows shrieked from the highest tower.
The image blurred. Time began to accelerate. The sun rose and set in rapid flashes. Seasons bled into one another. The cruel gears of fate began to turn, grinding away the years without mercy.
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7.9
I was lying in the emergency room with acute gastroenteritis on my birthday, but my mother ordered me to rip out my IV needle.
She threatened to freeze all my accounts if I didn't show up to my adopted sister's high-society matchmaking party.
When I arrived, dragging my weak body, I caught my fiancé Julio protecting his mistress.
Worse, my adopted sister Billie framed me for stealing my own grandmother's heirloom earrings just to play the victim in front of New York's elite.
I refused to be their stepping stone and projected the evidence of Julio's affair on the massive ballroom screen.
In a rage, my father cursed me, and my mother slapped me across the face so hard my mouth bled.
During the ensuing physical struggle, my adopted sister, the mistress, and I all plunged into the freezing outdoor swimming pool.
My fiancé desperately swam to save his mistress, while my own brother rushed to pull my adopted sister above the water.
I stopped kicking and let my heavy, soaked clothes pull me down to the bottom of the black pool.
Why did my own flesh and blood treat me like garbage?
After a mysterious bodyguard pulled me from the water, I watched my family frantically wrap the other two women in warm blankets.
I didn't shed a single tear.
"I am no longer a part of this family. I never want to see any of you again."
I publicly canceled the engagement, turned my back on the wealthy estate, and walked away into the freezing winter night.
9.0
I am the undisputed ice queen of the ER, a doctor whose life is built on absolute control. A month ago, I impulsively married a stranger to create a legal shield against my ex-mentor's betrayal.
Our prenup had one strict rule: a fake marriage with zero interference in each other's lives. But tonight, my "husband on paper" was wheeled into my ER, unconscious, reeking of cheap whiskey, and suffering from a bleeding ulcer.
To authorize his emergency surgery, I had to sign the consent form as his wife, detonating a gossip bomb among my colleagues. Worse, his overbearing family found out he was hospitalized. To stop his terrifying mother from flying in and exposing our sham marriage, I had to lean over his hospital bed and take a fake, loving couple's selfie.
I didn't understand why this disciplined math professor was suddenly drinking himself to death, nor why my chest tightened when he looked at me with exhausted eyes and begged for homemade soup. My perfectly ordered, untouchable life was crumbling into a chaotic mess, and I was losing my grip on the narrative.
"We should probably spend some time together beforehand. We could be roommates."
To prepare for an unavoidable family dinner and a wedding, my stranger husband just asked me to move into his apartment. The ultimate uncontrolled variable has just crossed the line, and our fake marriage is about to become dangerously real.
7.2
Two years ago, Amaya Bennett witnessed a murder.
A powerful man was killed in cold blood, right in front of her. She should have died that night too.
Instead, she woke up in a hospital with no memory of what happened. No faces, no names and no clues. Just fragments, blurred images that slip through her fingers every time she tries to hold on.
Now, Amaya lives a quiet life, piecing herself back together. She works part-time, avoids trouble, and stays invisible. Until she lands a job at Twilight Global.
A company owned by Jake Anderson, the cold and untouchable CEO whose father was murdered the same night Aria lost her memory. Jake spent years searching for the only witness. But she vanished without any trace. Or so he thought.
But somehow, they cross path again, working under his roof, completely unaware of the truth she carries.
The killer is still out there.
And when Amaya starts getting flashes of blood, a voice, a ring glinting under the dim light, the hunt begins again.
But this time, she's not alone. Because even before he realizes who she is... Jake has already started protecting her. In the most relentless and dangerous way.
7.1
Behind every locked door lies a secret... For Elena, it's the hunger she hides from her cold and distant husband. For Adrian, it's the forbidden desire he feels for the one woman he should never touch-his stepmother.
What begins as stolen glances and teasing remarks quickly spirals into something dangerous. Behind closed doors, guilt turns into obsession, lust turns into fire, and the line between right and wrong disappears.
But how long can they keep their dirty secret before it explodes, tearing the family apart?
A forbidden romance dripping with passion, danger, and irresistible temptation.
9.3
After eight years in captivity, I was finally rescued. I thought it was the beginning of a new life with my mother.
But she didn't even look at me. She ran into the arms of a handsome stranger, her real husband, and I was treated like a dirty secret from her past.
They called me a contamination, a reminder of their trauma. My new stepsister set their Doberman on me, and as the dog's teeth sank into my arm, I looked up and saw my mother watching from the window.
She met my eyes for a second, then slowly closed the curtains.
In that moment, the last bit of hope I had died. The shallow bond of family was completely gone, and I finally gave up.
But they made one mistake. The family patriarch, suspicious after a car accident, ordered a secret DNA test.
The results came back on the day of my stepsister's birthday party, revealing a truth that would burn their perfect world to the ground.
7.6
I died as an MMA champion in an octagon halfway across the world.
But instead of finding peace, I woke up face-down in the cracked Ohio dirt, trapped in the severely malnourished body of an eighteen-year-old girl named Alissa.
Along with this frail, useless body came a flood of agonizing memories.
Her glamorous sister, Ainsley, treated her like a slave, starving her and working her to the bone while playing the perfect saint to the outside world.
Worse, her brother-in-law Kristopher, a highly respected high school teacher, was a disgusting predator.
He constantly cornered her in dark hallways, whispering sickening threats disguised as affection, waiting for the perfect moment to completely ruin her.
"You are meant to be mine, little bird. This is our secret."
The original Alissa had lived her entire life in suffocating terror.
She was completely powerless, eventually dying of sheer exhaustion and silent despair in a suffocating cornfield while her abusers lived comfortably.
They thought she was just a pathetic, broken toy they could crush without consequence.
But the dull, defeated glaze in Alissa's eyes is gone now.
In its place is the sharp, calculating focus of a killer.
My new body might be weak and starved, but my mind is a lethal weapon. The predators are about to become the prey.