Shattered By An Alpha, Healed By A Lycan King
When a rejected wolf-shifter is discarded by her fated Alpha, she escapes into the forbidden woods only to be claimed by the legendary King of the Lycans.
Lyra expected the Moon Ceremony to be the beginning of her happily-ever-after. Instead, it became a public execution of her dignity. Her fated mate, Alpha Alaric, doesn't just reject her-he chooses her cruel stepsister to lead the Silver Moon Pack. Broken and hunted, Lyra flees into the Black Ridge Mountains, stumbling into the arms of Fenris, a Lycan King whose power dwarfs any Alpha. He doesn't just want her heart; he wants to burn down the world that hurt her.
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Chapter 2
The shadow of the Lycan King loomed over me, a dark silhouette against the silver-streaked sky. His presence was an anchor in the storm of my soul, but the sounds of the pursuit were getting closer.
The snapping of branches. The rhythmic thud of paws. The harsh, arrogant shouts of the Silver Moon elite warriors.
"She went this way! Follow the scent of the weakling!"
That was Jaxon's voice. Alaric's Lead Enforcer. He had always taken pleasure in my "clumsiness" at the training grounds, but tonight, his voice carried the lethal edge of a predator on the hunt.
I looked at Fenris's outstretched hand. His skin was bronze, his fingers tipped with obsidian claws that could likely rend steel. He was a monster from the old world, a nightmare that the Silver Moon Pack used to frighten pups into obedience.
But as I looked back toward the flickering torches of my former home, I realized the real monsters were the ones I had shared bread with only hours ago.
"They won't just let me leave, will they?" I whispered, the realization hitting me with the force of a physical blow. "Alaric didn't just reject me. He wants me gone. Permanently."
Fenris's eyes glowed with a predatory hunger. "A weak king always tries to bury his mistakes, little wolf. You are a living testament to his failure to honor the Goddess. He cannot have you wandering the borders, a reminder of the bond he severed."
I reached out, my fingers trembling as they brushed against his palm. The moment our skin met, a jolt of electricity-far more intense than the fated mate pull-surged through my veins. It wasn't the soft, golden warmth of Alaric's bond. It was a roar of thunder. It was the heat of a forest fire.
"I choose you," I breathed.
Fenris didn't smile. His expression darkened with a terrifying sort of satisfaction. Before he could speak, the brush behind us exploded.
Four massive wolves, their fur matted with sweat and aggression, burst into the clearing. They skidded to a halt, their hackles rising as they caught the scent of the Lycan.
Jaxon, in his human form, stepped out behind them, a silver-tipped spear in his hand. He looked disheveled, his eyes bloodshot with the high of the hunt.
"Lyra! You've led us on a pathetic chase," Jaxon spat, ignoring the massive figure standing in the shadows for a split second too long. "The Alpha has decided that your presence within ten miles of our border is a threat to Luna's peace of mind. You are to be executed for trespassing in the Dead Lands."
Then, Jaxon's gaze shifted. He saw Fenris.
The air in the clearing seemed to freeze. Jaxon's bravado evaporated, replaced by a primal, bone-deep terror. The four wolves behind him whined, their tails tucking between their legs as they instinctively recognized the apex predator standing before them.
"A... Lycan?" Jaxon stammered, his knuckles turning white as he gripped his spear. "This is the Silver Moon business, beast. Step aside. The girl is a traitor and a discarded omega."
Fenris stepped forward, and the ground seemed to tremble under his boots. He didn't shift into a wolf. He didn't need to. The sheer aura of his Lycan blood was enough to bring the warriors to their knees.
"You speak of 'discarded' things," Fenris said, his voice a low, vibrating hum that made my teeth ache. "But you are standing in my domain. These trees do not answer your Alpha. These mountains do not recognize your laws."
He placed a protective arm around my waist, pulling me flush against his hard, warm body. "And this woman? She is no longer yours to hunt."
Jaxon growled, his fear turning into a desperate, cornered aggression. "She is a wolf of the Silver Moon! By pack law-"
"I am the law of the Black Ridge," Fenris interrupted. His eyes flashed a brilliant, blinding gold. "Run back to your little Alpha. Tell him that he has thrown away a diamond and left it in the path of a dragon. Tell him that if any member of your pack crosses the Dead Lands' border again, I will not send back bodies. I will send back ashes."
"Kill him!" Jaxon screamed, losing his mind to the pressure of the Lycan's aura. "Kill them both!"
The four wolves, driven by the Alpha's command embedded in their minds, lunged.
What happened next was a blur of violence and grace. Fenris didn't even let go of me. With his free hand, he caught the first wolf by the throat mid-air. With a sickening crack, the beast was tossed aside like a ragdoll.
He moved like smoke. A kick shattered the ribs of the second wolf. A swipe of his claws sent the third spiraling into a tree trunk.
Jaxon lunged with the silver spear, aiming for Fenris's heart.
Fenris caught the shaft of the spear in his bare hand. The silver sizzled against his skin, the scent of burning flesh filling the air, but he didn't even flinch. He looked at Jaxon with a terrifying calm and snapped the spear in half as if it were a toothpick.
"I told you to run," Fenris hissed.
Jaxon turned and fled, his warriors-those who could still move-scrambling after him into the darkness, leaving a trail of blood and whimpers behind.
The silence that followed was heavy. I looked up at Fenris, staring at his burnt palm. "You're hurt. The silver..."
He looked at his hand, the skin already beginning to knit back together with the supernatural speed of a Lycan King. He looked down at me, his gaze softening into something intense and possessive.
"A small price to pay for what I've found," he whispered.
He leaned down, his face inches from mine. I could feel the heat radiating off him, a contrast to the cold rejection I had felt only an hour ago. He was dangerous. He was a monster.
And he was the only thing keeping me alive.
"They will come back," I said, my voice cracking. "Alaric is proud. He won't let this insult stand."
"Let them come," Fenris said, sweeping me up into his arms as if I weighed nothing. "I have waited a hundred years for a reason to burn that pack to the ground. You, Lyra, are the best reason I've ever had."
As he turned to carry me deeper into the forbidden mountains, away from the life I had known and into a world of shadows and ancient power, a howl echoed from the direction of the Silver Moon village.
It wasn't a howl of victory. It was the Alpha's call to war.
But as I tucked my head against Fenris's shoulder, I didn't feel like a victim anymore. For the first time in my life, I felt like a prize.
As we crossed the final ridge into the heart of the Lycan territory, Fenris suddenly stopped. His body went rigid, and his golden eyes scanned the darkness of the valley below.
"What is it?" I asked, clutching his shirt.
From the shadows of the ancient pines, dozens of pairs of glowing eyes ignited. Not gold like Fenris's, and not pale like a wolf's. These were blood-red.
"My council," Fenris muttered, his grip on me tightening. "And they do not like strangers, Lyra. Especially not those who carry the scent of a rival Alpha."
A massive, scarred Lycan stepped into the moonlight, his fangs bared in a murderous grin. "A Silver Moon omega, King? Have you brought us a snack, or a cause for execution?"
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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.
9.2
She loved him until she lost herself.
Now, behind locked doors and shattered glass, she must learn to breathe again.
When she first met Lloyd, he was magnetic and intoxicating. The kind of man who turned every head when he entered a room, who spoke in promises sweet enough to taste. With him, she felt chosen, cherished, and safe.
But safety was an illusion, and love became a weapon.
And slowly, piece by piece, he dismantled her until nothing of the woman she once was remained.
Now institutionalized after a breakdown, she begins to piece together the brutal truth of what really happened in the shadows of their love story. Memories sting like open wounds: the manipulation disguised as tenderness, the apologies that blurred into threats, the desperate hope that tomorrow he'd be the man she fell for again.
Yet beneath the grief and the shame, a quiet rebellion stirs, a vow to reclaim her voice, her freedom, and her life. Because this is not just a story of how she fell apart. It is a story of how she rises.
Haunting, raw, and achingly intimate, Boys like him peels back the glittering mask of a toxic love affair to reveal the kind of darkness that hides in plain sight, and the unbreakable strength it takes to escape it.
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.
8.1
Desperate for a way out of rejection and poverty, Pearl Augustine accepts a nanny job with an outrageous salary-working for billionaire Ace Warren. What she doesn't expect is his daughter.
Mia Warren is spoiled, sharp-tongued, and feared by everyone in the mansion. Behind her cruelty is a lonely child longing for a mother. As Pearl becomes the only one who can reach her, walls begin to fall-especially those around Ace, a grieving man hiding behind wealth and control.
What started as "just a job" quickly turns into something dangerous: attachment.
Sometimes, healing begins where you least expect it.
8.5
went to sleep a nobody. I woke up a Queen.
One night I was just a broke, exhausted college girl. The next, I opened my eyes in silk sheets, with strangers bowing and calling me Luna Queen. The face in the mirror is mine. The body is mine. But the life isn't. The bruises on my wrists tell a story I don't remember, and the King I'm bound to doesn't love me-he loathes me.
They whisper that his mistress rules the palace. They say the Queen was weak. Silent. Broken. But that was before me.
Now I must survive a palace that wants me dead, a King whose touch burns as much as it scars, and a kingdom waiting for me to fail. The old Luna Queen bowed to cruelty.
I am not her.
And if this King thinks I'll kneel, he's about to learn what a true Queen is made of.
7.3
For a thousand years, the Vora beastmen have been cursed by a madness-a burning sickness in their blood that only one thing can soothe: the legendary 'Blood-Blessed,' a human female whose very scent is a living cure.
When a virus wiped out nearly all females, their desperate hunt for this mythical girl turned into a brutal conquest. They crushed our fallen human kingdoms, reducing us to breathing meat under their cruel "Livestock Codex."
To save my little sister from being branded for their elite breeding auction, I took her place in the male-only death draft.
Disguised as a boy, I was thrown into a pitch-black labyrinth, a living sacrifice meant to feed their ultimate nightmare: the feral, half-dragon Mad King.
He tore our steel cage apart like wet paper. I pressed my back against the freezing wall, watching in horror as he slaughtered the screaming men around me.
He ripped the filthy coat from my body, exposing my true gender. As his crimson eyes locked onto my throat and he opened his jaws for the kill, my rage burned away my fear.
I was a pureblood heiress of a dead empire, but I would not die cowering like an animal. I gripped a shard of glass, ready to aim for his eye.
But as he lunged, the glass sliced my palm. The moment my blood hit the air, the legend became my reality. The sweet, intoxicating scent that flooded the dark wasn't just my pheromones-it was the living cure.
The terrifying, apocalyptic tyrant froze mid-strike. He dropped his massive body to his knees, his fangs retracting as he gently, desperately licked my bleeding hand.
His chaotic red eyes darkened with an absolute, world-ending obsession as he pulled my fragile body against his burning chest.
"Mine."
I was meant to be his final meal. They called me the Blood-Blessed. He called me his Queen.