The Alpha king's Rejected Mate
Warning: This story containes explicit scenes. Intended for those above 18...
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Aria Blackwood has spent her life trapped beneath her father's iron rule. When she is paraded through the glittering halls of the Grand Moon Hall, offered as a prize to unite the powerful Twelve Houses, she believes her fate is sealed. But one forbidden night changes everything.
The stranger who steals her breath is no ordinary wolf. Kael Nightborne is the King of werewolves, ruler of Nightfall Keep, and the last man Aria should ever desire. When dawn comes, he turns her away, cold, distant, unreachable.
Except Aria carries his child.
Hunted by secrets, betrayed by blood, and chased into the dangers of the High Wilds, Aria discovers that her father, Victor Blackwood, is tied to horrors buried deep within the Forsaken Heights, sins that could tear the realm apart. As enemies close in from Ironwill Basin Pack to the shadows of Veilshade Peak, Kael is forced to choose between his crown and the woman fate never intended for him.
Love was never part of the plan.
Neither was a baby that could change the balance of power forever.
When the truth finally comes to light, will Kael protect his hidden family, or will the past claim them both before dawn breaks?
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Chapter 5
ARIA
I was pretending to be brave. I did not really know how to be rough or quick. I did not know how to be soft or slow either.
All I knew was that his gaze kept coming back to me, over and over, and my heart had not slowed since the instant I noticed him.
This was the first decision I had ever made without fear. I wanted Kael. I would never see him again, and he would be the only one who knew the truth.
A secret. I barely had any. I wanted this one. I needed it. Something to keep. A memory that was mine alone.
And Kael Nightborne of Goldenreach would be enough.
His hands moved over my skin, light but sure, and my breath began to falter. When he leaned closer, my body trembled without my permission.
"Are you changing your mind?" he asked softly as his hands slid under my shirt.
I did not answer. I lifted the shirt over my head and let it fall to the floor. I wet my lips, afraid to speak. If I did, I might tell him to stop. Or I might beg him to keep going.
He was very good at pulling me out of my head. I caught his shirt and tried to pull it off him. The height difference made it clumsy, but he did not comment. He simply raised his arms and let me do it.
Most shifters were strong. Power was part of the change. His body was firm, solid. That was not what held my attention.
It was the scars.
Shifters healed quickly. Marks usually faded. But one long scar crossed his chest from shoulder to ribs. It matched the mark slicing through his eyebrow.
"Do you want me to put it back on?" he asked gently.
I reached up and traced the scar with my fingertip. I wanted to ask how he got it. But I had scars too. Smaller, quieter ones. In the low light, I hoped he would not see them. And if he did, I did not want questions.
So I shook my head and tilted my face up to him.
A low snarl left him, sharp enough to send a chill through me. He grabbed the back of my head and kissed me hard. I gasped, and he took advantage, his tongue pushing into my mouth. When he pulled away, his eyes burned gold. My stomach flipped.
"Your taste. Your scent. There is something about you," he murmured, lifting my chin and studying my face before kissing me again.
This time I was not afraid. I was waiting. Curious. Wanting to know what would come next.
I moaned and reached for his waistband. I opened his pants and touched him. The size did not shock me. I had seen arousal before. But this was the first time I felt it. Warm, solid, alive. My whole body shivered.
He made a rough sound and pressed into my hand. I closed my fingers without thinking.
He caught my wrist and pulled my hand away. "If you learn anything tonight," he said, low and steady, "it is that you do not touch me without asking. If you want me, you ask. You beg."
My mouth opened in surprise. He released me and smiled, knowing exactly what he was doing.
"Well?"
"May I touch you, Alpha?" I asked.
"Almost," he said. "Try again."
"Please let me touch you," I whispered. "I want to make you feel good."
"Better." He took my hand, licked my palm slowly, then pressed it back against him. "Hold me. Make me hard for you."
He bent down and bit my lip before kissing me again. This kiss was rough, hungry. He broke it only to pull the rest of my clothes away.
I was bare. Exposed. Standing in front of someone I barely knew.
For a moment, I wondered if my wolf would panic and flee.
He did not stop. His hand moved down my neck, slow and careful. I waited to see if he would grip my throat. I had known monsters before. I suspected Kael was the most dangerous wolf I had ever met.
And still, I stood there. Naked. Willing.
He could end my life in that room. No one knew where I was. And after tonight, I was not sure anyone would look for me.
His hands continued, over my collarbone, over my chest. I gasped when his fingers brushed a sensitive spot.
He went still.
A wild growl ripped from his chest. He grabbed my hips and dragged me back. Before I could react, I was on the couch, my head sinking into the cushions. He lifted my legs and lowered his mouth between them.
When I cried out, it was not fear.
The pleasure struck hard and sudden as his mouth worked on me. I had only ever been alone before. The heat of him left me dizzy and weak.
"This taste," he growled, biting my thigh. "You are sweet."
His tongue found me, and my body arched toward him. I gasped. "Wait."
He stopped at once. "Why?"
"I will finish too fast."
"Fast and hard," he said. "That is what you asked for. And do not worry. I can go again." His eyes glowed as he looked up at me. "You are mine until morning. Come for me, Aria."
I swallowed and nodded. I shut my eyes and lifted myself as he continued. Everything was too intense. Too real.
When it hit me, my body lifted off the couch.
He picked me up easily, holding me while I shook, then laid me down on something soft.
A bed.
He joined me a moment later, his clothes gone. He kissed me, and I tasted myself on his mouth. He settled between my legs, and I whimpered.
"Still want more," he murmured, his tongue tracing my skin. His hand slipped between my thighs. "You are already wet."
I was. Even after breaking apart, I still wanted him. I wanted him inside me.
I wanted to give something back.
"Please," I whispered, dragging my nails over his chest.
"That mouth," he said softly. "Let me hear you say it."
His eyes flashed as he guided himself into place and pressed into me.
I lifted my knees, breathing hard, trying to adjust. I knew pleasure. I owned toys.
None of them felt like this.
None of them felt like him.
He paused, breathing fast. "You are tight," he said. "Perfect."
"I can handle it."
"You will take all of me." He kissed me deeply, pinned my hands above my head, pulled back, then thrust in again and again until with a harsh sound he filled me completely.
I cried out.
He did not slow. He did not give me time to think. He pulled out and drove back in, over and over.
Hard. Fast.
Exactly what I asked for.
Heat and motion surrounded us. The bed shook. Sheets twisted. I came again, my nails breaking his skin.
His roar filled the room as he finished inside me.
He pulled free and turned me over, holding me down, spreading me open as he pressed close. His breath was hot against my ear. His body trembled.
The bed was soaked.
I shifted, trying to find a dry place.
He was hard again.
He swore softly.
"Again," he whispered. "Stay like this. I want to feel you react when I touch you."
My breath caught.
"Say it," he said. "Tell me what you want."
"Please," I said. "I want you."
He slid into me once more.
And I held on.
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7.8
Lisa Hawthorne, a despised omega, believes the Moon Goddess cursed her when Alpha Roman publicly rejects her and chooses her cruel stepsister instead.
Broken and alone, one reckless night exchanges everything, leaving her pregnant with a stranger's child.
When her secret is discovered, Lisa is beaten, disowned, and forced to flee.
On her search for greener pasture, she is captured by the most dangerous Pack in the realm for trespassing. And the pack's Alpha, Alpha Ragnar, turned out to be the man from her one night stand, the father of her child.
He remembers her. He wants her. And he's nothing like the Alpha who rejects her.
Now, Lisa must decide: remain the broken Omega everyone expects or accept Ragnar as her mate and become the Luna no one saw coming but what happens when the one who broke her comes begging?
8.9
Just hours after I endured a grueling labor to give Kaelen, my fated mate and the Alpha, two beautiful twins, he walked into the infirmary.
Instead of holding our newborns, his Alpha aura pinned me to the bed as he coldly announced, "I reject you as my mate."
He claimed I reeked of another Alpha. His sister Vanessa threw a stack of photos at my face, showing me at a cafe with a broad-shouldered man. Before I could even explain, Kaelen forced a pen into my trembling hand while I was still bleeding, making me sign away my parental rights. His mother then snatched my newborn son Liam from the crib.
"Take the girl and get out of my territory," Kaelen commanded, leaving me in the freezing room with my severed mate-bond and my crying daughter.
I didn't understand how our sacred bond could be shattered by a single fake photo, or how my fated mate could be so blind and ruthless as to rip my baby from my arms.
Five years later, his precious heir is dying, and Kaelen desperately needs an alliance and a bone marrow donor. But when he finally sees me at a high-society gala, he doesn't find a broken, exiled Omega.
He finds me standing beside that very same "lover"—Dominic, the Alpha of the Silverwood Pack, my older brother. And this time, I am the one holding the blade.
8.4
My mate, Alpha Santino, brought another woman into our home. She was a pregnant Omega, the widow of his fallen Beta, and he swore to protect her above all others.
He gave her my seat of honor, left our bed cold each night to soothe her feigned nightmares, and ignored me completely. I was the Luna of the Blackstone Pack, but I was becoming a ghost in my own life.
The final betrayal happened in my own bedroom. She stood over my vanity and deliberately shattered my mother's sacred moonstone necklace, the last piece of my family I had left.
When Santino burst in, he didn't see my heartbreak. He saw only her fake tears.
"What did you do to her?!" he roared, his voice laced with the Alpha's Command, a sacred power he used to crush my will.
Then, for her, he did the unforgivable. He raised his hand and struck me, his mate.
In that instant, the love I had desperately clung to turned to ice. The man I had sworn my life to had not only betrayed me but had defiled the sacred bond the Goddess herself had blessed.
As the pain of his betrayal ripped through me, something ancient and powerful awakened in my blood. I rose to my feet and spoke the words that would destroy his world and begin mine.
"I, Alessia Bianchi, reject you, Santino Moretti, as my mate."
9.3
When you turn eighteen in Ebonridge, the truth about who you really are is revealed. Most teenagers discover they are ordinary. Amara Vale does not.
The moment she touches the Moon Stone, the ancestral grove awakens - igniting a forbidden werewolf bloodline within her. Suddenly, the hidden creatures of the forest can sense her, and none can ignore what she has become.
As danger stirs and long-buried secrets emerge, Amara must decide who truly controls her destiny: the father she has never met... or the ancient magic flowing through her veins.
Marked by Moonlight is a story of survival, identity, and the cost of uncovering the truth.
7.7
I gripped the wheel of my Porsche through a Manhattan downpour, staring at the positive pregnancy test on the passenger seat. Haden's voicemail was my only answer.
A semi swerved into my lane. Brakes failed. I slammed into the guardrail, airbags exploding, pain ripping through my gut.
Headlights pierced the rain. My sister Corrie stepped out under an umbrella, smiling coldly. "Beauvais Fashion is liquidated. Dad's dying." Haden stood beside her, eyes dead, shoving equity papers through the window. "Sign, or no ambulance."
I tore them up. Corrie lit a flare, tossed it onto the gas-soaked seats. Flames whooshed as they walked away.
I woke strapped to an operating table, agony tearing me apart. "No heartbeat," the doctor said. Nurses pinned me down. Instruments invaded. Corrie dropped a death certificate on my chest, then set the room ablaze with alcohol and a cigarette flick.
Smoke choked me. A cabinet blocked the door. I collapsed, burning. Then a man in black burst in, scent of cedar and tobacco, scooping me from the fire.
Five years later, I'd rebuilt myself as Sloane, flawless and cold. I signed a sham marriage to Donavan Mason, nursing his dying grandfather in their estate—the house that swallowed my father's legacy.
Betrayed by my lover and sister, child ripped away, identity erased—how could they do this? Who was the man who saved me?
Now, I infiltrate their world, armed with secrets and scars, ready to burn them all down.
7.4
Bridget, a ruthless twenty-first-century Wall Street analyst, woke up violently coughing up murky lake water in a decaying 1978 slum.
She quickly realized she was trapped in the body of a naive, marginalized teenager who had just committed suicide over a boy's cruel rejection.
The original girl had been mercilessly bullied by a fake rich kid named Kurtis and his cruel followers. They had publicly read her desperate love letters out loud, mocking her as a toad trying to eat swan meat, and simply watched as she threw herself into the freezing water. Now, her impoverished mother was left weeping by the bed, facing catastrophic debt and total social ruin in their small town. Everyone expected the surviving girl to wake up begging and crying for the boy who humiliated her.
Instead, a cold, calculating fury took over Bridget's analytical mind.
"I already died in that lake. That stupid girl is never coming back."
How could anyone throw their life away for a pathetic, vain clown wearing a mass-produced fifty-dollar watch? To Bridget, those uncollected love letters weren't symbols of teenage heartbreak. They were toxic assets. They were reputation landmines left out in the open that threatened her new family's survival.
Locking away the dead girl's weak emotions, Bridget forced her freezing, exhausted body out of the clinic bed. She set a hard three-month deadline to drag this family out of tier-one poverty. But first, she was marching straight to the volunteer camp to liquidate those liabilities and completely destroy the people who drove this body to death.