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 6
"You aren't cleaning my study anymore. As of tomorrow, you are an official student at the North Elite Academy."
Faith's eyes widened. "The... the academy? But I can't go there! I'm a Dud! It's for the top shifters in the country, they will kill me!".
"I'm an Alpha, Faith. I don't give suggestions," Killian said, his voice dropping into that bossy, authoritative tone. "I'm sending you there as my 'ward.' Your cover story is that your late parents were loyal friends of my family. The administration won't dare ask questions."
"But what about the competition? My scholarship-"
"Forget the scholarship," Killian interrupted, leaning over the desk. "You don't need their charity. Consider this an investment. I want that brain of yours in my tech division, and to get there, you need an elite degree. I'm paying the tuition. The debt of the car... we'll adjust the interest later."
He looked her up and down, his nose wrinkling. "But first, we have a problem. You look like you're about to go to a funeral." Follow me! Huh? To where? Faith muttered. Killian didn't answer instead he dragged her arm while he walked to his garage.
Three hours later, Faith stood in the center of the most exclusive boutique in the North City. The lighting was flattering, the floors were white marble, and the air smelled like money.
"I have no idea what to choose," she admitted to the sales associate, who was looking at her simple, worn dress with poorly hidden disdain.
"Everything on that rack," Killian said, sweeping his hand toward the 'Limited Edition' collections. He was sitting in a high-backed leather chair, looking profoundly bored, but his gaze never left Faith. "She needs an entirely new wardrobe. Formal, casual, academic. If it doesn't cost more than a year's rent in the trenches, it's not for her."
He looked at the manager. "And get her out of that hideous thing she's wearing. She's a Nightshade ward now. Make her look like it."
A group of sales associates quickly ushered faith to the dressing room.For an hour, they draped her in fabrics she never wore before or even know the names of. They painted her lips, brushed and styled her hair until it looked like silk, and slipped her feet into designer shoes that made her feel ten feet tall.
When the curtain finally pulled open, Killian was mid-text. He looked up, and for the second time that week, the powerful Alpha completely forgot how to breathe.
Faith stood there, no longer looking like the tired orphan. She was wearing a perfectly tailored, midnight-blue cocktail dress that brought out the warmth in her skin. Her high cheekbones were highlighted, her soulful eyes large and capturing. The dress emphasized her subtle curves, curves her maid's uniform had hidden.
Killian's throat went dry. His wolf, which usually remained passive until challenged, let out a possessive, thunderous roar.she no longer smells of bleach. She now smelled of Rain and wild honey. It was her scent. The Dud's scent. And it was driving him crazy.
He stood up, his intense gaze never left hers as He walked toward her, and for a split second, the polished concrete floor seemed to turn to grass. The mall sounds faded.
He reached out, his finger grazing her cheekbone, making her skin sizzle with that familiar electricity.
"I thought you said I was just an investment," Faith said softly, her breath catching as he leaned close.
Killian paused, his eyes glowing gold. "An investment is meant to appreciate in value, Faith," he murmured, his voice thick with a strained desire. "I didn't realize how quickly that would happen."
The next morning, the high tension between them had settled into a heavy, dynamic silence. Killian was driving her to the Academy in his new Rolls Royce, and Faith was gripping the handle of her sleek new backpack.
As they pulled up to the gates, a low vibration of sound hit the car. It wasn't music; it was the combined scent and noise of a thousand young, powerful shifters in one place.
Faith looked at the massive gothic building, her stomach churning. She was the only Dud. She had zero protection. Killian couldn't be inside the school with her.
"Faith," Killian said, pulling the car to a halt. He turned to her, his expression unusually serious. He handed her a silver bracelet-heavy and cool. "If anyone so much as looks at you wrong, you press that button. My guards are stationed in the nearby trees. I'll be here in two minutes."
He reached out and squeezed her hand. His hand was warm, grounding her. "You are smarter than they are, Faith. Use that. Let them underestimate you. And remember.... his voice dropped, "You belong to the Nightshade Alpha. Nobody touches you."
Faith walked through the massive gates alone. As she checked her schedule, a hand suddenly slammed onto her backpack , nearly making her drop it. A group of students surrounded her, led by the familiar scent of vanilla and expensive perfume.
Maya was standing there, surrounded by five powerful-looking wolves. She looked at Faith's elite new wardrobe, her new phone, and her confident posture, and her face contorted with jealousy.
"Look what the trash drug in," Maya sneered, her eyes glowing amber. "I heard you got lucky and found a fancy sponsor, Dud. But did your sponsor tell you that in this school, we take 'investment' strictly ? It's hunting season."
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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.