THE ALPHA I REJECTED IS MY ROOMMATE
Nova Greyveil was born to lead her pack, and to prove it, she beat every fighter her father threw at her, only to be told her future is a marriage deal she never agreed to. Marry the Alpha King. So she rejected him and disappeared. Disguised as "Ash Darvin", she sneaks into Vordrak Academy, a ruthless all-male training ground where alphas are built, broken, and buried. One slip means exposure. Exposure means death. She thought surviving Vordrak would be the hard part. Then she meets Caden Voss. Cold. Precise. Dangerous. The academy's strongest fighter and the only one who keeps looking at her like he can see straight through the mask she's wearing, and to top it off, he is her roommate. The longer she stays, the harder it gets to hide. Not just her identity, but what his presence is doing to her. Because in Vordrak, secrets don't stay hidden. And neither does desire.
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Chapter 3
"Real tough move," Nova said, before her brain had finished approving the words. "Putting someone on the ground who wasn't going to fight back."
Caden stopped walking.
He turned around slowly.
The students nearby went quiet. Not all at once. One by one, like a sound being turned down.
The boy she'd pulled up grabbed her sleeve with two fingers. His voice came out barely above a breath. "You know who that is, right?" "That's Caden Voss. Strongest fighter in this Academy. You don't want to get on his bad side."
"Strength without judgement is just aggression," Nova said, still looking at Caden. "Anyone can swing hard. It takes more to know when not to."
Someone behind her muttered something about a death wish.
Caden walked back toward her. Unhurried. Each step was measured and deliberate, the walk of someone who had never once needed to close a distance quickly because things tended to move out of his way instead.
He stopped close. Too close for conversation between strangers. She could see the texture of the old scar that ran along his left collarbone and count the individual muscle lines where his neck met his shoulder.
Don't look at his neck. Look at his eyes.
"You have nerve, newbie; I give that to you," he said. Low. Almost like a compliment, but not.
"I have opinions," she said. "They happen to be correct."
His eyes dropped briefly to her throat. Her collar was high. Good. They came back up.
"The rule here is simple," he said. "He entered my space without permission. He got dealt with." He leaned slightly forward, just enough that she had to make a conscious choice not to step back. "Vordrak runs on one law. The strong dictate things here."
"Then the strong should be able to handle criticism," Nova said. "Or is that only for the weak?"
Something flashed through his eyes. Fast and hot. Not anger exactly. Something more alert than anger.
He leaned closer, way too close.
She felt it before she processed it. That pull. Low and specific and completely unwelcome, like her body had decided to respond to his proximity on its own schedule without consulting her. Her wolf pressed forward inside her chest. Not aggressive. Not afraid. Just intensely, inconveniently interested, ready to unleash and be devoured by him completely and intensely.
Absolutely not, she thought.
Sit down.
His eyes moved to hers and stayed there, and she had the unsettling sense that he was reading something in her face she hadn't meant to show.
"You smell strange; I can't seem to figure out what that exact smell is," he said. Quiet now. Direct. "Who are you, really?"
"Ash Darvin." She held his gaze without blinking. "Freshman intake. And I'm late for dorm assignments." She took one step back. "So."
She turned and walked away.
She heard him behind her. He didn't follow her; he just stood there dazed at the audacity of what just happened.
"Interesting," he said, to no one in particular. "Very interesting."
She didn't look back.
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9.7
Darcie Miller survives elite St. Jude's Academy on sarcasm and invisibility, steering clear of golden quarterback Charles Sterling-her most ruthless tormentor. But when her father's bankruptcy hands everything to the Sterling family, Darcie faces a humiliating ultimatum: move into Charles's mansion as his live-in "academic handler" to keep him eligible for graduation.
Now the girl who despises him holds his future in her hands, and the boy who shattered her reputation might be the only one who truly sees her. In a world of cold marble and buried secrets, hate is about to catch fire-and obsession could burn them both.
7.9
Allyson was the most hated actress in Hollywood, forced to wear a cheap, tearing gown after America's sweetheart, Joanne, stole her S-tier role.
During a red carpet disaster, Allyson tripped and fell—straight into the arms of the untouchable megastar, Byron Estes.
The internet exploded, accusing Allyson of faking the fall to seduce him. Drowning in bad press and desperate to pay her agency's termination fee, she signed a reality TV contract. She was forced to play the desperate, clingy villain, acting as a pathetic stepping stone for Joanne and Byron's highly anticipated on-screen romance.
"You could throw yourself at Byron a hundred times, and you'd still never make it into his bed," Joanne mocked.
What Joanne and the furious public didn't know was that three years ago, when Byron was in a horrific crash, Joanne had abandoned him. It was Allyson who stayed.
Even more absurd? Allyson and Byron were actually secretly married, bound by a multi-million dollar NDA.
Determined to play her villainous role and get paid, Allyson memorized a book of cringe-inducing pickup lines, ready to disgust her secret husband on live television.
"The stars are in the sky. But you... are in my heart."
She expected the ice-cold superstar to push her away in disgust. Instead, when another male guest got too close to her, Byron completely shattered his untouchable facade, his eyes burning with a lethal, undeniable possessiveness that sent the internet into absolute chaos.
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.
7.3
Clara came home from a fourteen-hour board meeting to the sound of a piercing scream in the playroom.
When she rushed in, she found her husband, Chadwick, kneeling on the floor in a panic.
But he wasn't looking at their five-year-old son, Leo, who had a massive bleeding welt on his forehead.
Instead, Chadwick was trembling as he held the nanny's daughter, Autumn, who barely had a microscopic scratch.
"She needs ice. And antibacterial ointment," Chadwick snapped, carrying the nanny's daughter away and leaving his bleeding son behind.
From that moment, the nightmare only escalated.
Chadwick ordered Clara to cook a three-hour meal for the nanny's kid, threw away Leo's favorite toys because Autumn sneezed, and even secretly took the nanny and her daughter on Leo's promised Disney trip.
The final humiliation came at the Met Gala.
Right before their sponsor speech, Chadwick received a frantic call from the nanny claiming Autumn was having a panic attack.
He abandoned Clara in front of hundreds of flashing cameras, sprinting out of the ballroom.
Clara stood completely alone, the humiliation eating through her veins like acid.
She couldn't understand how a father could call the nanny's kid his "little princess" while watching his own son cry.
Why was he treating his own flesh and blood like garbage just to play savior to another woman's child?
Suddenly, the blinding camera flashes were blocked by a massive shadow.
Erasmo Chase, the heir to New York's largest financial dynasty, stepped out of the darkness and shielded her.
"A man like that is unworthy of your grief, Ms. Best," he whispered, pressing a silk handkerchief into her trembling hand.
Looking at the sharp profile of the powerful man beside her, Clara's shock hardened into a lethal, cold fury.
She was going to dump her family's shares, crash the board, and make Chadwick lose absolutely everything.
9.0
Corey Hendrix was the family's dirty secret, a forgotten stepdaughter deliberately hidden away in rural Montana for twenty years.
But today, her stepfather Isham summoned her to his study and slid a marriage contract across the desk. He was forcing her to marry Lucas Fitzgerald—a powerful billionaire rumored to be paralyzed from the waist down—simply so her favored stepsister Brandi wouldn't have to waste her life on a "cripple."
"If you refuse, you'll be on the street before dinner. Let's see how long you last."
Isham threatened her with cold disdain, treating her like a worthless commodity to be traded for a corporate alliance. Her stepsister Brandi kicked her door open just to mock her, calling her a pathetic country bumpkin. They even used Corey's tragically deceased mother as emotional blackmail, entirely confident in their control, secretly hiding the fact that Isham had embezzled the five-million-dollar trust fund her mother left behind.
The entire Copeland family looked down on her, convinced she was just a timid, helpless outcast who had no choice but to accept this deeply unfair fate.
They had no idea that the moment Corey walked out of that study, her submissive mask dissolved. Locking her bedroom door, she pulled out an encrypted, military-grade laptop and logged in under her real title: Commander "Argent" of the BTO special ops. This forced marriage wasn't a cage, but her perfect cover to infiltrate New York's elite and finally avenge her mother's murder.
9.0
Alpha Samson is the most ruthless alpha's around and has the most powerful pack in the world-Blackthorn. Runours cascade around about him, and his wolf, Savage, who is the biggest anyone has ever seen, will rain down on all who go against them. The only thing they are missing is their mate. What happens when all alphas are going to a pack to celebrate the coming of an new alpha, who has only barely turned twelve. Things don't look what they seem, until the luring scent mixed with blood sends Alpha Samson to the cells where he and his beast finds their mate, chained to the wall all bloody and broken. All hell breaks lose. Alora, half wolf and half witch, charged for a crime she never did. What happens when the damaged little woman meets the ruthless alpha who happens to be his mate? When recovering with her mate, things change and all Alora has ever known is a lie of what she is and more. Secrets come out and all Alora and Alpha Samson want is to know the truth and revenge, taking back the pack that is hers to begin with.