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 4
Seraphina
I paced my room while the first light of morning cut through the curtains. Alexander hadn't been back since he stormed out. Curiosity is a dangerous thing, but it pulled at me until I found myself sneaking toward the top floor.
His door was ajar. I pushed it open just enough to see him. He was sprawled across the bed, one arm tucked under his pillow, his face turned to the side. The sheet was low on his hips, leaving the heavy ink of his tattoos exposed against his skin. He looked peaceful. Almost beautiful.
Xandriel was a beast who needed sex to stay sane. I figured Alexander was the same. Alphas always had a string of women waiting for them. I stood there, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest, wondering if I could use his trust to find a way out of this gilded cage.
I backed away and closed the door softly. I'd rather starve than let myself feel anything for him. He was just another man who thought he owned me.
The mansion was deathly quiet. At Xandriel's, the nights were loud with drinking and smoke. Here, everything felt too clean. Too still. I turned a corner in the hallway, my mind miles away, when a hand suddenly shot out of the shadows.
"You smell like a rogue."
A man slammed me against the wall. The back of my head hit the wood with a crack that made my vision swim.
"Alpha Alexander has me here," I gasped, trying to find my footing. I wouldn't call myself a mate. Not to this stranger.
"Then why are you wandering?" He didn't wait for an answer. He fist my hair and jerked my head back, shoving me forward. "Who let you out of the holes?"
"I let myself out!" I bit back. If he killed me, at least the struggle would be over.
He snarled and shoved me into a dark bedroom. I stumbled, falling hard onto a bed I didn't recognize. Before I could scramble up, he was on top of me. His hand crushed my throat, pinning me into the mattress. I clawed at his wrists, my lungs burning for air.
"No! Stop! Please!" I managed to scream, my nails catching the skin of his face.
"Stay still!" he yelled. He pinned my wrists over my head. He was heavy, his breath smelling of stale coffee. "You're too pretty for a cell. You could be mine if you played right."
"Stop touching me!"
His hand fumbled with the button of my pants. I tried to bring my knees up, to kick him where it hurt, but he wedged his body between my legs, locking me down. I screamed again, a raw, piercing sound that felt like it was tearing my throat.
"You aren't in charge here, girl," he spat.
He slapped his palm over my mouth to stifle my cries. Tears leaked out, hot and fast, soaking into his skin. I closed my eyes, waiting for the end. I waited for the weight of another man to break what was left of me.
The door didn't just open. It exploded.
The weight was gone instantly. I heard a roar that sounded like a building collapsing. I sat up, shaking, pulling my clothes back together as I watched Alexander. He had the man-Percival-by the throat, pinning him so high against the wall his toes barely touched the floor.
"What the hell are you doing?!" Alexander's voice was a lethal vibration.
"She... she's just a woman!" Percival wheezed, his face turning a dark shade of blue. "She's a prisoner, Alpha!"
"She is my mate, you dumbass!"
Alexander didn't just hit him. He broke him. He threw a punch that sounded like snapping wood, then tossed Percival to the floor like a piece of trash. When Alexander turned to me, the red vanished from his eyes. He looked horrified.
"I-I'm sorry," I choked out, the words barely a whisper.
"Shh..."
He didn't ask. He just gathered me up in his arms, pulling me tight against his chest. I didn't fight him this time. I was too cold, too tired. He carried me down the hall, his heart thundering against my ear.
"Why didn't you tell him?" he asked, his voice thick with a mix of fury and pain. "He should have known who you were."
"Because I am not your mate!" I shouted. The trauma turned into anger the second I felt safe.
Alexander stopped and set me on my feet. He looked exhausted, his shoulders slumped as he put his hands on his hips.
"Yes, you fucking are!" he barked. "I won't force my mark on you, Seraphina, but my people will know who you are to me. Percival is finished. I promise you that."
"You act like I asked for this," I cried, the frustration finally boiling over. "I don't want any of you! I don't want this life!"
Alexander turned and punched the wall beside my head, his fist buried deep in the drywall. Dust settled on my hair.
"Listen to me," I said, my voice trembling. "You're a handsome man, Alpha. Go find a girl who wants you. I don't care who you sleep with. Just leave me alone. I'm already marked by Xandriel anyway."
"I can't do that." He started walking me back toward my room, keeping his distance but staying close enough to be a shield. "You're never leaving this house. No one is ever going to touch you again."
"You can't save me!" I screamed at his back. "I was born for this misery!"
"I'll try," he said, his voice shaking with a sudden, quiet intensity. "I'll do everything I can."
"What is all the screaming about?"
A girl stepped out of a room nearby. She was stunning, even in silk pajamas. Her hair was perfect, her eyes sharp and annoyed. I froze. Was this one of his girls?
"I-" I started, but Alexander cut me off.
"This is my sister, Margo," he said, rolling his eyes.
Margo looked me up and down, her lip curling. "Why are you fighting at six in the morning? And why are you with a girl?"
"This is Seraphina," Alexander said, his voice softening. "My mate."
Margo's entire face changed. She didn't look annoyed anymore; she looked like she'd just won the lottery. She started jumping up and down, a huge grin breaking across her face.
"Really?! Finally! So you're the one. It's been so long!" She stepped toward me, staring at me with wide, curious eyes.
"What?" I whispered. I'd never met her in my life.
"When's the wedding? I'm so happy! Alexander might actually stop being a jerk now."
I looked at the floor, my face burning. I wasn't thinking about weddings. I was thinking about survival.
"Margo, stop," Alexander muttered, clearing his throat.
Margo ignored him. She reached out and played with the ends of my hair, her smile warm and genuine.
"You're gorgeous," she whispered. "My brother better not mess this up. He's been a nightmare since he lost his last chance at a mate. Come on, let's go eat."
She draped an arm over my shoulders and led me toward the kitchen, leaving Alexander standing alone in the dark hallway.
He lost his mate? Was the last story that he told me true? Am I really his lost mate?
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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.