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 5
She leads me into a small, sterile room and motions for me to lie down. I hesitate, every instinct screaming not to. The wound is exposed just enough for her to see as I lift my sweatshirt.
Raven's eyes widen instantly, a flash of rage sparking across her sharp features as she takes in the deep bruising, the angry infection spreading across my skin. She presses around it with precision, careful, like she's handling something fragile yet dangerous. "How long has this been?" Her voice is calm but edged with steel. "A few days... maybe..." I mutter, uncertain. Each beating had blurred into the next. Days had no meaning when pain dominated them. Any day without a new mark had been a rare victory. Raven shakes her head sharply. "No. This has been festering for at least a week. The infection didn't just appear overnight. You need to be honest, Neah. Who did this?" I shrink into myself, a habit drilled into me over years of abuse. "I... I don't know," I whisper, my voice almost swallowed by the room. Alpha kael is there, looming without words, radiating an intensity that's impossible to ignore. His anger isn't loud, it doesn't roar. It pulses, silent but lethal. I flinch under its weight.
"LARA!" His voice rumbles through the room, deep, commanding, shaking my core. Punishment doesn't need hands; it lives in his tone, in the sheer presence of him. My stomach knots, old fears resurfacing, memories of a life where anger always brought pain. I close my eyes, too afraid to meet his gaze. Memories of Alpha Trey's punishments flash involuntarily the beatings, the degradation, the feeling that my existence was a problem. Those lessons run deep. This is worse somehow, being seen, revealed in a pack hospital that isn't mine, a room full of strangers who might not care if I survived. "Heal her!" Alpha Kael barks after a long pause, then storms from the room, pulling a phone from his pocket and pacing as he speaks. The air is thick with tension, every second stretching unbearably. "You'll have to forgive my brother. His temper is... short," Raven mutters, inspecting my wound carefully. "He hates seeing this, hates not knowing what's been done to you." "My brother?" I whisper, voice trembling slightly. I hadn't expected any family discussion in all this chaos. "Yes. And I'm guessing he never mentioned Jenson?" she adds with a wry smile. "Gamma of the family. He's been involved long before this day."
I shake my head, confused, piecing together fragments of what I know or think I know about the Moonshine Pack and the chaos that surrounds me.
"Gamma?" I murmur. A term that feels foreign, powerful, heavy. Raven chuckles lightly, distracted from the wound for a second. "Yes. Don't worry, the terms confuse everyone at first. Alpha kael is... complicated. Protective, controlling, effective.
You'll see it in action soon enough." She grabs a small jar of cream from the cabinet, reading off instructions. "Three times a day. Should start clearing the infection. If not, you'll come back and we'll try something stronger. Your brother waits out front; I'm sure he wants to speak with you after this." "Thanks," I whisper, barely meeting her gaze as I take the jar. The label is foreign to me. I can't read it, and the unfamiliarity makes me feel... small.
Not like the Alpha kael looming nearby, not like the monsters who made me this way, but small in the ordinary, mundane way of needing help. I hurry out to find Alpha kael pacing near the front. Phone forgotten, hands clasped behind him, eyes sharp. I show him the cream, and without comment, he takes it, flips open the lid, and applies it to the wound with his rough, precise hands. The contact sends a jolt through me. Not fear. Not pain.
Something else entirely unexpected, confusing.
"Don't lie to me," he says low and deliberate, voice like steel wrapped in velvet. "If you can't remember something, tell me. I don't guess, Neah. Ever." I nod, swallowing hard. I can barely form words under the weight of his stare. One hand steadies me, holding me firm, the other works the cream in carefully. It's... tender. Foreign. Dangerous in its unfamiliarity.
"You're afraid," he states again, eyes locked on mine. "Everyone is," I whisper, voice barely audible, my gaze dropping. "You're stronger than most," I add, compelled despite myself. "You've killed, conquered, absorbed. People fear you. It would be stupid not to fear you." He tilts his head, smirk tugging at his lips. "That's not what I mean," he says simply. "I mean me." I can't answer, can't find words that won't betray the careful armor I've built around myself. My hands curl into fists at my sides.
My chest rises and falls in shallow, uneven breaths. "You don't need to speak yet," he murmurs, hand brushing lightly over my back, guiding me, steadying me. "I'll take my time learning you, understanding you. No one like you should ever feel invisible, unworthy, or unprotected. You are not them, and you never will be. You don't need to fear me, Lara. Only trust. And trust is earned." I watch him, eyes flitting everywhere but his. The clock. The walls. Anything. I don't trust myself to meet his gaze. By nightfall, I haven't spoken first. Conversations end in nods or shakes of the head, brief, calculated, protective gestures that say nothing but shield everything.
I am almost unreadable, and he seems to enjoy it, studying, testing, teasing, pushing gently against boundaries without overstepping. "You need sleep," he finally mutters, guiding me toward the stairs. No Wolf tonight, no pack run for me. My legs ache, my mind buzzes, yet there's a strange calm in the order he brings, in the authority he wields effortlessly. Entering the bedroom, he applies the cream one last time, carefully, deliberately. I hold my breath, not trusting any moment. "Goodnight," he murmurs, brushing a kiss across my cheek. I flinch instinctively but stay rooted, unable to move, unable to look away. "You're leaving?" I whisper.
"Full moon tonight. Pack run. I'll be back before you even notice I'm gone. Sleep while you can," he says, eyes scanning me like a predator, a guardian, an enigma. "Pack run?" My brow furrows. "You'll see. Moonshine doesn't leave anyone behind. Everyone participates. Everyone contributes. Everyone survives... or doesn't." His tone is calm, but I feel the weight of it, the silent threat beneath the words. A world I stepped into willingly, yet unknowingly.
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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.