
Stolen Luna By The Rival Alpha
"Seraphina, you are destined to be my Luna, and no one will ever replace you."
Alpha Alexander has been searching on Earth for his missing Luna, who was taken by a cunning rival, for decades. When he finally finds her, it's not a happily ever after reunion. In a world where loyalty is tested and love is a weapon, Seraphina must choose-before the war for her soul consumes them all.
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Chapter 3
Seraphina
The rain drummed against the glass, a constant, heavy rhythm that hadn't let up since I arrived. I stood by the window, watching the blur of the forest. I had told Alexander to leave me alone. His temper was a wild thing, unpredictable and loud.
He was a strange man. He treated me like a prize one second and a problem the next.
I stayed in the room, anchored by my own fear. I hadn't been away from Xandriel for this long in years. It felt weird, but the distance was like a weight lifting off my chest. Xandriel was useless without me. He couldn't cook a meal or keep his own life in order. He used people until they broke.
The click of the door handle made my heart lurch into my throat. I heard my pulse thudding in my ears, a fast, frantic sound. I didn't turn around. I just stood there, waiting for the nightmare to start again.
"Are you hungry?"
Alexander's voice was lower now, vibrating off the navy walls. I trembled. I wanted to be brave. I wanted to show him that he couldn't break me, but my body wouldn't stop shaking.
"The pack is heading out to the grounds for training. We will be alone for dinner. Come eat with me," he said. He sounded almost hesitant, like he was bracing for me to say no.
"No," I said. I kept my voice firm. I didn't want to leave this room. I didn't know what happened at his dinner table. I didn't know if "dinner" was just a code for something else.
"Please," he said. I heard him huff, a sound of pure frustration. "I am trying to ask nicely, Seraphina. Don't make this harder."
I sensed his impatience. It was a familiar heat, the kind that usually ended in a bruise.
"Just dinner?" I asked.
"Just dinner," he repeated.
"No."
I heard his boots heavy on the carpet, moving fast. I spun around, my back hitting the glass of the French windows. He stopped inches from me. He was a wall of muscle and heat, his face flushed with a dark, angry red.
"I just told you I cleared the house for us!" he yelled. He looked stunned, like he couldn't believe I was still standing my ground. "Join me. Now."
"I said no!" I screamed back. I'd rather starve. I'd rather rot in this room than bow down because he raised his voice. I leaned back against the latches of the window, my mind spinning, looking for a way to hurt him. "I'd rather work for every one of your men than sit at a table with you!"
The lie felt like poison on my tongue, but I wanted him to leave. I wanted him to hate me and go away.
Alexander's chest puffed out. His eyes went dark, the pupils swallowing the iris. He lunged toward me, a blur of motion. I panicked. I didn't think. I just threw myself sideways to get away from his reach.
The latch gave way. The French windows swung wide into the storm.
I tumbled backward into the cold air. The rain lashed at my face as I felt the floor disappear. Suddenly, iron-hard fingers clamped around my wrists. Alexander jerked me forward, hauling me back into the room with a strength that made my bones ache.
He let go the second my feet hit the rug, remembering my rule about his touch. His face was no longer red. It was pale with terror.
"Are you trying to kill yourself?" he breathed, his voice shaking. "What is wrong with you?"
"That wouldn't have happened if you weren't looming over me!" I snapped. I fought back the tears stinging my eyes. "Close the windows. Stay away from me."
"I am your Alpha," he growled, stepping back into my space. The fear was gone, replaced by that suffocating authority. "Whether you want the bond or not, you will listen to me. There are consequences for this kind of disrespect."
"I can handle it," I said. I looked him right in the eye. "You're just like him. You're cruel. You're a bully. And I am not afraid of you."
"You think I'm cruel? You want to serve my men?" He spat the words, his jaw tight. "Fine. If that's what you want, have at it. You have no choice now."
He turned and slammed the door, the sound like a gunshot. I couldn't breathe. My lungs felt tight. Would he really do it? Would he throw me to the pack? I moved toward the door, my hand trembling as I reached for the handle.
I opened it, and my heart stopped.
He was still there. He was leaning against the wall, his head in his hands. He looked small. He looked broken.
"What do you want from me before you let me go?" I asked. I looked down at my arms. Faint blue bruises were already forming where he had grabbed me to keep me from falling. "Why are you keeping me here?"
"You're my mate, Seraphina," he said, his voice a rough ghost of a sound. "I'll have you one way or another."
He started walking down the hall, a low growl rolling in his throat. I followed him, my legs feeling like jelly. I needed to end this.
"I belong to Xandriel," I said to his back. "I bear his mark."
Alexander stopped dead. I bumped into his back, the heat of him seeping through my clothes. He turned, his eyes searching my neck, his breath shallow.
"I don't see a mark," he said. The relief in his voice was sickening.
"He put it where no one would see."
I reached down and yanked the hem of my shirt up, just above my hip. The jagged, scarred mark sat there, half-hidden by the waistband of my jeans. It was a brand of ownership.
Alexander's eyes flared. His fists clenched so hard his knuckles turned white.
"We can end this, Alpha," I whispered. "Just reject me. Set us both free."
"Never."
He looked at me with a hunger that made my blood sing. I hated it. I hated how my body reacted to him, how the air between us felt thick and electric.
"Don't you want other women? You're an Alpha. You can have anyone. Just let me go."
The bond was screaming at me to touch him, to close the distance. It was a physical ache in my chest.
"I only want you," he said. He stepped closer, his gaze dropping to the mark on my hip. "He marked you in secret. But when I mark you, it will be for the whole world to see."
My cheeks burned. I felt a pull in my gut so strong I had to grip the wall to stay upright.
"You are destined to be my Luna," he said.
Then he turned and walked down the stairs, leaving me shivering in the hall.
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8.0
My entire family was slaughtered three years ago by Alistair Kirkland, the usurper who stole the underworld throne.
I was the only survivor. Smuggled out of New York as a child, I was trained in the shadows to become a flawless weapon. Now, at sixteen, I returned to the city that was supposed to be my graveyard.
But the New York I returned to was a suffocating cage. Kirkland didn't just wipe out the Valenzuela bloodline; he branded my few surviving loyalists as traitors. He paraded my men down the streets in heavy iron chains, letting the very people we once protected hurl rocks at them. He bought the doctors, ensuring my wounded soldiers would bleed out in the dark. Even worse, the mother of my only ally—Julian Morgan—secretly sold us out to a Chicago warlord just to keep her archaic grip on power.
I stood in the shadows, watching an eleven-year-old boy get his head smashed with a jagged stone just for defending his father's honor. How could the city my grandfather built cheer for our extermination? Why did the old guard prefer to cower and die in the dark rather than fight the monster who stole our home?
"Ghosts don't knock on my door, Athena. What do you want?" Julian asked me.
I tossed a blood-stained ledger of Kirkland's deepest secrets onto his desk.
"I'm here to help you take back what's yours, and burn Alistair Kirkland's empire to the ground."

7.9
For three years, Allison played the perfect First Lady in a marriage that never gave her love back.
Nolan handed her divorce papers, sneering at her background while his mother mocked her as barren and his pregnant mistress claimed her place. So Allison walked away.
On the very day she left him, the royal family reclaimed her as their lost princess.
Crown, fortune, power, three terrifying brothers, and a handpicked royal consort now stood at her side.
Her eldest brother-the world's most feared arms dealer-pushed a black card across the table. "Go on. Spend whatever you like."
Her second brother-the genius doctor-twirled a scalpel between his fingers. "Tell me, sis. How many cuts do the ones who hurt you deserve?"
Her third brother-a global martial arts superstar-stormed into her ex-husband's lair. "Who made my sister cry? Time to face the music."
When her regretful ex begged for another chance, Allison only smiled.
It was too late. She was no longer his wife. She was his worst mistake.

7.5
"Let's play a game."
"What game?"
"One that involves you not screaming."
★★★★★
I'd been the perfect girlfriend to my star hockey player for two years.
Stood in the rain at his practices. Drove hours just to watch him warm benches. Wore his jersey like it meant something.
And he repaid me by fucking his way through half of Chicago-including the sister of the one man he's been obsessed with for years.
Zane Mercer.
The NHL's most dangerous player. My stepfather's worst enemy. And the man who looked at me like I was something worth destroying the world for.
One impossible offer.
One desperate bet.
One night that changed everything.
Zane doesn't do fake. He doesn't do half measures.
When he tells me I'm his for two months, he means it. In every way that matters.
But Zane has secrets buried so deep they connect to my family's past in ways I never imagined. Dark secrets. Deadly ones.
What starts as a transaction turns into obsession.
What starts as revenge turns into something I can't walk away from.
And what starts as a lie might be the only truth that matters.
They say some men are too dangerous to love.
They're right.
But I was never good at following warnings.
★★★★★
This book contains explicit sexual content, dominant/possessive behavior, morally gray characters, family conflict, and themes that may be triggering. Intended for mature readers 18+.
This isn't your normal hockey romance. It's dark, raw, and unrelenting-where obsession, desire, and power collide, and nothing is off-limits.

8.4
I stood in front of New York City Hall in my vintage lace wedding dress, my heart pounding with a nervous joy. I was minutes away from marrying Bradford Sterling, a move I thought would finally help me reclaim my mother’s legacy from my family’s crumbling empire.
But as I reached for his arm, he flinched. A black Lincoln Navigator screeched to the curb, and his mother, Victoria, stepped out, slamming a restructuring document against his chest. She didn't even look at me as she delivered the killing blow: my sister, Eden, had just seized every cent of my voting rights and family trust.
"Marrying her is a net negative yield," Victoria said coldly. Bradford didn't fight for me; he didn't even blink. He simply pushed my hand away and adjusted his tie as if I were a junk bond he was ready to offload. Seconds later, my sister Eden arrived in a red Ferrari, wearing her own bridal gown, and stepped into my place by his side.
I was standing on the pavement, humiliated in front of a crowd, while the man I loved for three years treated me like a failed transaction. My sister laughed in my face, calling me a "liability" while she stole my wedding and my life. The grief was instant, but the rage that followed was a white-hot rupture in my chest.
I didn't just walk away; I slapped the life out of Bradford and dove into the first black SUV I saw, desperate to escape. I didn't check the plates, and I didn't see the man in the wheelchair sitting in the shadows of the backseat.
I had just "carjacked" Jefferson Montgomery, the most dangerous billionaire in the city. To save him from a parole violation during a sudden police raid, I agreed to a fake marriage that very night. They wanted to treat me like a negative asset? Fine. They have no idea that they just handed a world-class hacker the keys to the Montgomery fortune, and I’m going to liquidate them all.

8.3
Five years ago, Lyrix Thorne was publicly rejected by her fated mate and left to die beneath a full moon. Now she's a rogue leader with a ticking death sentence in her veins, hunted for her blood and hated by the Alpha who broke her. When war forces her back into Shadowfang territory, Lyrix comes face-to-face with Raven Blackwood-the ruthless Alpha who shattered her bond and the only wolf powerful enough to save her. He claims his rejection was a lie. A sacrifice. A choice that nearly destroyed him. Lyrix doesn't care. She survived without him, and she refuses to kneel now.
But fate doesn't loosen its grip. The rejection curse is killing her faster than anyone predicted, enemies are closing in, and the mate bond ignites with brutal intensity every time Raven gets too close. He wants redemption. She wants revenge. Between forced proximity, pack politics, and a prophecy written in blood and silver, Lyrix must decide whether love is worth risking her life again-or if letting the Alpha burn is the only way to finally be free.

7.6
I went to the City Clerk's office to update my passport, desperate to feel alive again after losing my ability to draw.
Instead, the clerk handed me a reality that killed me.
"Mrs. Crosby," she whispered, her face drained of color. "You aren't married to Bennet. The divorce was finalized three years ago. On October 12th."
The date hit me harder than a physical blow.
October 12th was the day my right hand was crushed.
The day Gianna Skinner, a woman obsessed with my husband, shattered twenty-seven bones in my drawing hand with a marble bust.
Bennet, the most ruthless Don in New York, had promised me justice. He swore he locked Gianna in a dungeon to rot for hurting his "Angel."
But the screen in front of me told a different story.
He had married Gianna the very same day he divorced me.
I drove to the Lake House where she was supposed to be suffering. I didn't find a prison; I found a modern glass palace.
There they were, sitting on a swing set I had designed.
Gianna wasn't rotting. She was laughing in his lap, wearing a silk robe.
"She is so pathetic," Gianna purred, tracing his jaw. "Five years and she still thinks she is the Lady of the house."
Bennet chuckled, the sound dark and terrifying.
"She is broken, Gianna. A bird with no wings. She has no value to the Family anymore, except as a trophy on my shelf. She is my pet. You are my fire."
My phone buzzed in my pocket. A text from Bennet.
"Happy Anniversary, my Angel. Tonight, I give you the world."
He wasn't giving me the world. He was building a cage out of lies.
Through a bugged ring, I later heard his endgame: he planned to institutionalize me for "mental instability" so he could bring Gianna into the light.
I didn't go home to cry.
I went to my office and opened a secure browser on the dark web.
*Subject: Protocol Erasure.*
*Target: Harper Cline.*
*Execution: Immediate.*
Bennet thought he had broken his pet.
He was about to realize he had just unleashed a lioness.