The Alpha's Genius Dud (The White Wolf's Awakening )
Sold for scraps.Saved by a monster. Destined to rule them all.
Faith is a "Dud", a wolfless orphan living in the shadows of the trenches. Treated as a servant by her own family, she hides a mind more brilliant than any Alpha's instinct. But in the process of winning a life-changing scholarship, she is betrayed. Drugged and sold to traffickers by her own aunt, Faith thought her life was over -until she falls from a third-story window and lands on the hood of a car that belongs to the most dangerous man in the country.
Killian Nightshade. Billionaire. Alpha of the Blackwood Pack. A man who rules with ice in his veins and power in his hands.
Killian doesn't do favors. He makes investments. He claims Faith as his "Personal Shadow" to work off the debt of his ruined car. But as he forces her into the shark-infested waters of the North Elite Academy, he finds himself breaking his own rule: Never get attached to the help.
While Faith battles ruthless bullies and the predatory interest of Killian's rival, Silas, a twenty-year-old secret begins to stir in her blood. She isn't just a Dud. She is a legend. And when the girl who was sold for scraps finally shifts, the entire werewolf world will have to decide: Will they bow to their new Queen, or be burned by her fire?
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Chapter 1
The soapy water was grey, lukewarm, and smelled of bleach, a scent that Faith had to endure. At five in the morning, the bungalow was silent.
Faith wiped her sweat and tied up her hair to stop
it from falling over her forehead, her knees ached.This was her life in the "trenches". a cycle of scrubbing, serving, and staying silent.
She didn't mind the work. What she minded was the cage.
"Still in the hallway, Faith? You're slowing down. Maybe you're getting old," a mocking voice drifted from the top of the stairs.
Faith didn't look up. She didn't need to. That sharp, entitled tone belonged to Maya, her cousin. Maya was nineteen, the same age as Faith, but they lived in two different worlds. Maya wore silk pajamas and smelled of expensive vanilla: Faith wore a hand-me-down oversized shirt and smelled of chemicals.
"I'm almost done, Maya," Faith said quietly, her voice breaking.
"It's Miss Maya to you dummy", her cousin snapped, stepping over Faith's bucket and purposely kicking it.
The dirty water splashed over the floor Faith had just cleaned. Faith's grip tightened on the rag until her knuckles turned white. She closed her eyes, counting to ten. In this world, a world governed by the Moon and the strength of the Wolf-Faith was a "Dud." At eighteen, most of the pack had already shifted. Maya had shifted into a sleek, sandy-brown wolf a few months ago. Faith? Nothing.
To the pack, she was just a human-shaped error. A freak.
"Clean it up. Again," Maya smirked, admiring her manicured nails. "And don't forget, the Silver Moon Scholarship applications close today. Not that a wolfless charity case like you would ever have a chance."
Maya strutted into the kitchen, leaving Faith alone in the wet hallway.
Faith let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. She reached into the hidden pocket of her leggings and felt the crumpled piece of paper. It was the entry form. She had spent the last three months sneaking into the back of the local library, using the outdated computers to research urban development and sustainable energy.
While Maya spent her nights at pack parties, Faith was teaching herself advanced calculus and architectural design. She wasn't just "brilliant for a girl who barely went to school"....she was a prodigy. But in a house where her brilliance was seen as a threat to Maya's ego, she had to play naive to survive.
Two hours later, the house was a whirlwind of chaos.
"Faith! Where is my blue blazer?" her Aunt Sarah screamed from the master bedroom.
"Faith! Make me a smoothie! No kale this time, it tastes like grass!" Maya yelled from the vanity.
Faith moved like a ghost, navigating the demands with practiced precision. She handed the blazer to her aunt, a woman whose beauty was a sharp mask for her cruelty. Sarah looked at Faith, her eyes narrowing as she took in the girl's face. Faith was really beautiful. She had high cheekbones, deep, soulful eyes, and skin that looked like it was lit from within, despite the lack of sleep.
It was that beauty that made Sarah hate her. It reminded her too much of the sister she had always envied-Faith's mother.
"You're staring, Faith," Sarah said, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Did I give you permission to look at me?"
"No, Aunt Sarah. Sorry." Faith looked at her feet.
"Good. Maya is heading to the Academy for the Scholarship Presentation. You will stay here and prep the guest room. The Alpha's regional scouts might be passing through the city. If there is a single speck of dust, you won't eat for three days. Have I made myself clear?"
"Yes, Aunt Sarah."
As soon as the front door slammed and the engine of Maya's car faded into the distance, Faith's demeanor changed. The slumped shoulders straightened. The dull look in her eyes sharpened into a fierce flame.
She ran to the basement-her "room." It was a cramped space next to the water heater, but it was hers. Under a loose floorboard, she pulled out a sleek, thin laptop she had rebuilt from scraps found at the junkyard.
She opened the file; Project Phoenix.
It was her presentation for the Silver Moon Scholarship. It wasn't just a school project; it was a blueprint for a new kind of city, one that didn't rely on the brutal hierarchy of Alphas and Omegas. It was genius. It was dangerous. And it was her only way out.
She hit Submit at 11:59 AM.
A green checkmark appeared on the screen: Application Received. Applicant ID: Phoenix-01.
The afternoon was a blur of frantic cleaning. Faith worked with a strange energy, a hope she hadn't felt in years. If she won, the scholarship wasn't just money; it was protection. The winners were under the direct patronage of the High Council. Not even Aunt Sarah would dare touch her.
At 6:00 PM, the door clicked open.
Faith was in the kitchen, plating a modest dinner for herself-a bowl of plain rice. Maya stormed in, her face red, her eyes glowing a faint, angry amber.
"You bitch", Maya hissed, walking straight up to Faith.
Faith felt a cold dread settle in her stomach. "What happened? Did the presentation go well?"
"Don't play dumb!" Maya grabbed the bowl of rice and threw it against the wall. The ceramic shattered. "The judges called me into the office. They said they received a late entry that 'redefined the parameters of the competition.' They said my work-the work I borrowed from your notebooks-looked like a child's drawing compared to this 'Phoenix' applicant."
Faith kept her face a mask of confusion. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"You pathetic Liar!" Maya lunged, her wolf-strength pinning Faith against the counter. The smell of angry predator filled the room. "I saw your handwriting on the digital sketches, Faith. I recognize the way you draw your 'F's. You think you're better than me? You're a wolfless orphan living in my basement!"
"I just want a future, Maya," Faith gasped, trying to pry Maya's iron grip from her throat.
"You have no future," a cold voice said from the doorway.
Aunt Sarah stood there, holding Faith's rebuilt laptop. Her face was calm, which was far scarier than Maya's rage.
"I found this in the basement. You've been keeping secrets, Faith. Expensive ones." Sarah looked at the laptop, then dropped it onto the floor and crushed it under her heel. Crunch.
Faith let out a small, broken cry. That was months of work. Her only one connection to the outside world.
"You've become too smart for your own good," Sarah said, stepping closer. "You're a threat to this family's reputation. If the pack finds out an ordinary 'Dud' is smarter than the Alpha's daughter, we'll be a laughingstock."
"I won't tell anyone!" Faith pleaded. "I'll withdraw! Just let me stay."
Sarah looked at Maya-a look of dark, silent agreement. "Oh, you aren't staying here anymore Faith. I've already made arrangements. There's a labor contractor in the North. They don't care if you have a wolf or not. They just need pretty girls who can follow orders."
Faith's heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird. "No. You can't. That's illegal!"
"In this city, I am the law," Sarah smiled. She pulled out a small syringe from her pocket. "Drink your tea, Faith. Or I'll let Maya shift and play with you first."
Faith looked at Maya, whose claws were starting to extend. She looked at the door, but it was locked. She was trapped.
"Okay I'll do it," Faith whispered, her voice trembling.
As the needle pierced her skin, the world began to tilt. The last thing she saw was Maya's triumphant smirk and her aunt's cold, satisfied eyes.
"Sleep tight, little bird," Sarah whispered. "You're going to a place where your brain won't save you." Sarah let out a wicked laugh.
Faith's eyes closed as Darkness took her.
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8.1
Terminally ill.
Betrayed by her husband.
Abandoned by the only family she had.
Ariel died with nothing... and no one.
But fate gives her a second chance.
Reborn three years before her death, she walks away from the man who ruined her life-and takes back everything they stole.
Her love.
Her identity.
Her power.
Now, the cold billionaire who once ignored her can't take his eyes off her.
The brother who abandoned her starts to regret.
Too late.
Because this time, Ariel isn't the woman who begs.
She's the one who makes them kneel.
8.4
Cari Butler woke up in a damp, smelly dorm room, realizing she had transmigrated into the body of a disgraced fake daughter who had just been kicked out of a wealthy family.
Before she could even process her reality, the real daughter's friends kicked her door open to mock her, flaunting a custom Tiffany necklace that supposedly cost a mere eighty cents.
Cari thought they were crazy, until she saw the news: a top Manhattan mansion had just sold for a record-breaking $3,500.
The entire world's currency value had shrunk by ten thousand times!
This meant the original owner's bank balance of $854,000 gave Cari the purchasing power of eight and a half billion dollars.
But a mysterious system froze her funds, forcing her to work demeaning gig jobs to unlock the money bit by bit.
While working as a hotel server for twenty cents a day, she caught her ex-boyfriend kissing up to the real daughter, mocking Cari for being a desperate beggar.
Even her snobby roommates laughed at her, claiming she couldn't afford a ten-cent iPhone.
What truly angered Cari wasn't the humiliation, but receiving a five-cent transfer from her poor biological brother, who was starving himself just to keep her fed.
Yet, the system strictly forbade her from giving her unlocked billions directly to her family.
Looking at the restrictive system and the arrogant elites who thought they owned the city, Cari's eyes turned icy cold.
"If I can't just hand them the cash,"
Cari sneered, pulling out her phone to outright buy the luxury hotel and fire everyone who wronged her.
"Then I will just buy the entire world and place it at their feet."
7.4
My mother was dying and desperately needed a half-million-dollar deposit for an experimental heart surgery by tomorrow.
I swallowed my pride and begged my wealthy husband, Garrick, to save her life.
Instead of helping, he laughed coldly and threw a thick stack of divorce papers right in my face.
"A hen that can't lay eggs gets slaughtered," he sneered, ruthlessly poking my flat stomach.
He revealed that his secretary, my supposed friend Lacey, was already pregnant with his heir.
To him, our three years of marriage was just a business transaction, and now that my family was bankrupt, I was nothing but damaged goods.
He flicked a humiliating five-thousand-dollar check at me as his final act of charity, then locked me out of our townhouse into the freezing, pouring rain.
I had spent years enduring agonizing hormone treatments for a fertility issue that wasn't even my fault, only to be discarded like trash when I needed him the most.
Was my dignity, my absolute devotion, and my mother's life really worth nothing to him?
Driven by pure, reckless desperation, I threw myself directly into the path of a moving Rolls-Royce Phantom on Fifth Avenue.
It belonged to Holden Tillman, the ruthless patriarch of the Tillman empire—and the uncle Garrick lived in absolute terror of.
I thought I was walking into my death, but instead, I became his fiancée, ready to make Garrick and Lacey pay for every tear I shed.
8.2
Trapped in a deadly fire at my own engagement party, my lungs burned as I reached a shaking hand out to my fiancé for help.
He stopped and looked right at me through the thick smoke. But instead of saving me, he wrapped his jacket tightly around my stepsister and ran, leaving me to burn.
I barely survived. But when I woke up in the hospital, my father and stepmother didn't even ask about my injuries.
They threw a stack of legal documents right onto my bed.
"Sign the papers, Avah. Step aside. Jaclyn is far better suited to be Kain's wife."
My fiancé then stormed into the room, publicly humiliating me with false rumors of an illegitimate child and threatening to bankrupt my company.
Four years of swallowing my pride to be the perfect, obedient pawn for our family business, all for nothing.
They threw me to the wolves without a single second of hesitation, expecting me to just lower my head and cry like I always did.
But the fire had burned that pathetic version of me away.
I ripped out my IV, letting the blood drip onto the sheets, and tore their contracts straight down the middle.
"The engagement is over."
I threw my million-dollar ring right at my ex's chest, then picked up the phone to call my trust lawyer. They wanted to take everything from me, so I was going to make them bleed.
7.9
I woke up in a burning warehouse, twelve years after my supposed death. My body had been reset to its physical prime, the deep burn scar on my wrist completely gone.
Through the smoke, my eldest son, Kennard, rushed blindly into the flames. He was screaming the name of the very woman who had orchestrated this trap—Brittnie.
When I tackled him out of the way of a falling steel beam, he didn't recognize my youthful face. Instead, he pinned me to the concrete and nearly crushed my windpipe.
"How much did she pay you to carve up your face to look like a dead woman?"
He hissed the words at me, treating me like a sick corporate spy. For a decade, a bizarre narrative "script" had brainwashed my son, forcing him into pathetic devotion to Brittnie. She had drained his wealth, turned my daughter against him, and hollowed out our family empire.
Whenever Kennard tried to resist her, the mind control punished him with agonizing migraines, driving him to smash his own hands against the wall just to cope with the pain.
Hearing him quietly sobbing outside my locked door, my heart shattered. How could this invisible force torture my brilliant son and turn my family into puppets for a D-list actress?
I dragged him to the hospital for a DNA test.
When the results confirmed my maternity at 99.999%, the cold billionaire collapsed to the floor, weeping in my arms like a lost child.
I wiped his tears and smiled ruthlessly. It was time to take back my empire and burn Brittnie's life to the ground.
8.9
Harlow had endured three years of a loveless marriage, funding her husband Beck's life and secretly writing the AI code that saved his failing company.
But when she walked into her family's private memorial library, she found Beck having sex with his mistress, Fallon, right on top of her late father's antique desk.
Instead of showing guilt, Beck proudly announced that Fallon had given him a son and heir.
He demanded Harlow accept the bastard child and stay married just to maintain his perfect public image.
To make matters worse, Fallon was actually a corporate spy from a rival company, actively stealing Harlow's family legacy while Beck willingly handed over the company secrets.
When Harlow demanded an immediate divorce, Beck laughed in her face.
"I will never sign the divorce papers! I will drag this out in court until you bleed dry!"
Looking at her father's crushed pocket watch and the two parasites desecrating her sacred home, Harlow's shock turned into a freezing, absolute clarity.
How could she have spent three years supporting a selfish hypocrite who would so ruthlessly destroy her parents' legacy?
Harlow calmly packed her bags, threw his bespoke suits in the trash, and walked out the door.
She went straight to Fitzgerald Monroe, the most ruthless billionaire corporate lawyer in New York, ready to use her secret identity to make Beck lose everything.