THE ALPHA'S OBSESSIONs
Rejected by her mate. Bound by a blood tie. And barely alive.
Lara Wolfhart should have been free... but the bond tying her to a monster won't let her go. When Alpha Kael the most feared wolf in Moonshine Pack finds her on the brink of death, he doesn't just save her. He claims her.
But protection comes at a cost. Her past isn't finished with her. Her enemies are closer than she thinks. And the man who once rejected her refuses to let her go... even in death.
One Alpha. One broken girl. One forbidden bond.
Will Lara survive... or will the pack world break her completely?
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Chapter 3
Looking past Beta Kieran, I spot her clinging to a statue of herself at the bottom of the stairs.
Blonde hair falls in careless waves, green eyes sharp, calculating, measuring. She sways as she moves toward Trey, like a predator unaware she's being watched. I can't help but recall Liora's reaction yesterday. When I'd asked Trey about his mate, her whole body had stiffened, taut with fear.
She was scared of this woman. Something about her made Liora flinch, and I wanted answers.
"Take her, Alpha Kael. I'm sure she'll serve you as well as she serves us." Her shrill voice cuts through me like glass. "Look at the pathetic thing she's going to pass out." The blonde laughs, cruel and hollow.
"You don't get to speak about her like that," I snap, glaring. "She's not your toy, not your slave. Alpha Trey, I suggest you keep your mate in line. I won't tolerate any more disobedience."
"DISOBEDIENCE!" the woman screeches as Liora hits the floor. "How dare you! If anyone's disobedient, it's that rat in the corner!" Rat? I growl silently, teeth clenched. Who the hell is she calling a rat?
"You should familiarize yourself with our agreement," I snap. "Seems your mate didn't tell you everything." I wave Eric forward. From under his arm, he pulls a thick wad of paper the contract I'd drawn up.
"All of this for your help?" His mate's eyes widen.
"I don't do half-baked contracts." I shove the paper into Trey's chest. "Office. Now."
Trey leads, his mate clutching him, Beta following behind. My men trail, while I hang back, watching Liora. "You're more than welcome to join us you're part of this deal. Or... my car is outside. You can pack and wait."
She murmurs, eyes low. "Those are my only options?"
"For now. Honestly? Sit with us. Nothing will irritate your brother's mate more." Her blue eyes stay fixed downward, fingers clutching her bag like it's life itself. The closer I get, the clearer it is: she's fragile, heart slow, fighting to stay alive.
"So, what will it be?" I ask.
"I... I..." Her head tilts between the door and the office. "I... I guess the office."
"Good choice." I offer my hand. She ignores it.
Wobbly, but upright, following her. I catch the glares she earns from Trey and the others as she steps into the office.
"Take a seat," I whisper, brushing her lower back.
She freezes, rigid, eyes darting.
"Sit!" I repeat, louder. "She doesn't have that privilege here!"
The blonde sneers, amused. "Sitting isn't a privilege."
I growl, scanning for bruises, evidence. None visible. Small relief. Aero paces in my head. He wants her out of this chaos as much as I do. The blonde recoils, shocked I spoke.
"And I suggest," I glare at Trey, "you tell your mate to keep her mouth shut or I'll do it for you."
Alpha Kael interrupts, calm, commanding: "You want my help, yes?" The room seethes. No one likes being told what to do. But here, they are. I point to the empty chair between Jenson and Eric.
She sits, hesitantly.
"Let's finish this," Trey snaps. "The sooner she's gone, the better."
"You should read the contract," I mutter.
'Agreed,' Eric murmurs. They sign without reading, throwing the papers back. "Done," Trey mutters.
"Good. Get her out." His mate screeches in protest.
If I had my way, I'd take Liora now and leave the idiots behind. But the contract is ironclad they can't reclaim her. I rise, hand extended.
"Come. We're leaving before I lose my temper."
Her fingers slip into mine. Her other hand clutches her bag to her chest. She doesn't glance back, confirming my suspicion: she hates them as much as they hate her. At the open door, she hesitates, staring at the limo. "Come." Eric and Jenson flank her, curious, alert. She looks like a deer in headlights tiny, frail. Skin and bone. My hands trace the outline of every rib. Sickening.
She should be strong, powerful, Alpha blood surging through her veins. Her face scrunches as I measure her. Not fear. Pain. She hides it beneath a baggy maid's dress.
"I know you want to say something. Just say it.
I'm not interested in Trey's garbage. Speak freely. Are you injured?"
"No." Lies. I can feel it. A lock of black hair slips from the band meant to hold it. She's protective, starved, hardened. He'll pay for what he did.
"You must speak, Liora. When I mark you, I'll know what you feel."
"Mark me?" Her eyes widen, disbelief written across her face.
"Yes. I will mark you." She's shocked. Pink lips parting, hesitant, cautious. I thought she knew
that was why she'd submitted so easily. My Beta questioned me, uncertain. Her scent is strange... intoxicating. My wolf Aero hungers for her too, frustrated I didn't bring her yesterday.
"You... brought this to mark me?" She steps back toward the kitchen island, wincing, then forcing composure. If Trey had read the contract, he'd know: she is my bride, not a slave. Any interference, she becomes ours mine. I never bought her. Liora was always destined to be mine.
"I'm a murderer," she whispers. "Why would someone like you want me as a bride?"
Aero growls, cutting through my thoughts. Blood.
Vulnerability. Power.
I glance down. Baggy dress, a new blood stain where I touched her. "Injured?" I demand. Barely touched her.
"Nothing. A cut. I knocked it. It opens. I forget it's there." Forget? Impossible. Aero panics. Less than two hours, already injured. No healing. Binding.
We must reverse it soon.
"Show me."
"Fine," she mutters.
"Not optional. If you refuse, I will see for myself."
Her heart skips. "Can we go somewhere private?"
"Private?" I scoff. Wolf logic. She keeps focus slightly averted, afraid of my gaze.
"Office," Aero mutters.
"Perfect," I snap, motioning toward the door. She follows. The scent of blood intensifies. Already worse than a simple cut. Inside, I drop the blinds.
Sunlight retreats. Hesitant, she begins unfastening her dress... only near the large bloodstain. Everything else remains hidden. Four inch wound, infected, painful.
"See? It's fine," she whispers.
"Stop saying that." I grab her hands, spotting more bruises. "Let's check the rest." No options. Fingers tear buttons. Sports bra, panties worn. Bruises everywhere. Whip scars. Hip bones, ribs protruding. Turning her, pulling the dress down her back... nothing above chest, nothing below thighs.
Arms bare. Only one reason: hide abuse, hide appearances. Guests cannot see. Planned for months. She fumbles, pulling dress tight, thin frame revealed.
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8.3
My cousin Hailey paid a dock worker to assault me just to ruin my engagement.
To survive the military-grade aphrodisiac she poisoned me with, I stumbled into a walk-in freezer and threw myself onto the only source of cold I could find-a man paralyzed by unnatural hypothermia.
It was a desperate, primal exchange of my heat for his ice just to keep my heart from stopping.
But when Hailey threw open the heavy iron door, leading my fiancé and the entire Bolton family to witness my "shame," her triumphant grin instantly vanished.
She hadn't caught me with a low-life thug.
She had caught me straddling Demetrius Maddox, the ruthless Iron King of Chicago.
The air in the room dropped to absolute zero. My grandmother screamed in horror, and my father turned the color of ash.
Hailey, blinded by jealousy, tried to double down. She pointed a manicured finger at the deadliest man in the city and called him a "nameless muscle" I picked up to defile the family name.
She didn't realize she had just signed her own death warrant.
I didn't cower. I realized this was the only chance to survive the family that wanted me dead.
I walked up to the Devil himself, my body still humming with the poison, and looked him in the eye.
"Kill me, and the cold inside you wins," I whispered, knowing he was dying from the inverse of my own poison. "I am the only doctor who knows how to cure you."
Demetrius tightened his hand around my throat, his dark eyes assessing my worth.
"Prove it," he growled.
I turned back to my trembling cousin and signaled the enforcer to hand me the whip.
8.0
For Claire, Christmas has always been about survival. She only wanted to keep life steady for her daughter Emma after heartbreak and loss. Moving to a quiet snowy town was meant to be a fresh start, not the beginning of something new for her heart.
Jack, a widowed single father, has built his world around his children. He has hidden his own longing for love beneath duty and routine. But when Claire and Emma step into his life, the walls he carefully built begin to melt away like snow under the winter sun.
As festive lights glow and snow falls gently around them, Claire and Jack discover laughter, warmth, and the kind of connection they never thought they would feel again. Their children bond, their hearts open, and slowly, a friendship begins to grow into something far deeper.
But love after loss is never simple. Can Claire trust her heart again. Can Jack embrace the future instead of living in the past.
This Christmas, two families are given a second chance to heal, to hope, and to find themselves forever in each other's arms.
Christmas in Your Arms is a heartwarming holiday romance filled with tender moments, snowy nights, and the magic of love that feels like coming home.
7.3
She was sent to destroy him.
A man feared in the shadows, a mafia lord whose name alone commanded power and blood. Serafina Dunes had one mission: send Rapheal Dekoms to hell.
Murdered by her husband's mistress, Yuanita Serra was ripped from life before her time-only to be reborn as a missionier, and her first task was to kill Rapheal Dekoms. But fate had other plans. What was meant to be a deadly mission became a dangerous game of desire and hate, where every glance and every touch ignited a fire she couldn't control-and threatened to unravel everything he had ever built.
7.1
I never should have let my mother hold my future hostage.
She paid my tuition with his father's money. Locked my birth certificate, my transcripts, every scrap of paper I need to survive in a safe I'll never open. And the one thing I had left of my dad, his old watch, she dangled like a noose.
Run, and I lose my education. Fight, and I lose the last piece of the man who actually loved me.
So I moved into the Hunters' mansion. Into the lair of the boy who spent years making my life hell.
Chase Hunter. Six-foot-five of pure venom wrapped in muscle and money. The senior who cornered me in empty hallways, who whispered filth in my ear just to watch me flinch, who smiled that sharp, cruel smile every time I broke a little more.
I thought graduation meant freedom from him.
I was wrong.
Now he's my stepbrother.
He hates that I'm here. Hates my mother for sinking her claws into his father. Hates me most of all, for breathing his air, for walking his halls, for daring to exist where he can reach me.
But hate isn't clean anymore.
It's tangled up in heat. In the way his grey eyes strip me bare every time they land on me. In the way his hand closes around my throat, not to hurt, but to own. In the way he punishes me over his lap, in his car, against walls, until I'm shaking and soaked and furious at myself for wanting more.
He calls me Little Lamb like it's poison on his tongue.
I call him every name I can think of under my breath.
How long until we stop fighting the deadly inferno raging between us and finally let it consume us both?
7.6
I was kneeling on the cold concrete of an abandoned warehouse, staring at a ticking timer while a masked man held a knife to my throat. My fiancé's nephew, Preston, finally burst through the door, but he wasn't alone. He was clutching my stepsister, Felicia, both of them looking frantic.
The kidnapper gave Preston a brutal choice: the bomb was rigged to the door, and he could only take one woman with him. The other would stay behind to burn.
Without a single second of hesitation, Preston grabbed Felicia's hand and turned his back on me.
"I'm sorry, Annelise," he said, his voice flat and devoid of any real regret.
He slammed the heavy iron door shut, leaving me to scream in the darkness as the flames began to roar. He didn't just leave me to die; he did it to protect his inheritance, treating me like a piece of trash that was finally being cleared from his path.
Later, in the hospital, he didn't even offer an apology. Instead, he raised his hand to strike me, threatening to finish what the fire started if I dared to speak a word about his cowardice. His stepsister laughed, trying to pour scalding coffee on my face while calling me a pathetic loser who should have stayed in the warehouse.
I sat there, cowering and shaking like a broken girl, letting them believe they had won. I watched their cruelty with wide, watery eyes, wondering how they could be so blind to the monster they were provoking.
What Preston didn't know was that the entire kidnapping was a performance I had choreographed myself, and every second of his betrayal was recorded in 4K.
Now, I've successfully moved into the manor of the real king-his uncle, Francesco Lancaster. He thinks he's rescued a wounded bird, but he's actually invited a world-class predator into his home. The game is no longer about survival; it's about total destruction.
7.0
Kael Draven died in the most humiliating way possible.
Run over... while trying to save a piece of fried chicken.
But death was not the end.
When he opens his eyes, Kael finds himself reborn in a world of magic, monsters, and powerful mages. There is only one problem.
He is the weakest mage in the academy.
No talent. No skills. No magic that actually works.
But just when everything seems hopeless, Kael discovers something strange.
His luck... is completely broken.
Spells miss him by accident. Enemies defeat themselves. Disasters turn into miracles. Every mistake somehow becomes a perfect victory.
People start to notice.
A genius. A hidden master. A terrifying prodigy.
The more Kael tries to explain, the worse the misunderstandings become.
"I tripped," Kael insists.
"They call it flawless execution."
As rumors spread and powerful enemies begin to watch him, Kael is pulled into conflicts far beyond his understanding. From academy duels to world-shaking wars, his so-called "luck" begins to reveal something far more dangerous.
Because this power is not random.
And Kael might not be its first owner.
Now hunted by those who fear him, trusted by those who believe in him, and followed by a mysterious silver-haired mage who refuses to look away...
Kael must survive a world that thinks he is a genius.
Even if he knows the truth.
"I am not strong," Kael says.
The world disagrees.