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 6
Lara shakes her head, and I give her a faint, teasing smirk. "You'll get used to it. Sleep. When your Wolf's back, you'll be running with us." I start to close the door, but she freezes, blue eyes wide, staring like she's seeing ghosts. Confused, fragile, fierce all at once. Years of fear are etched into every movement, every hesitation, but I catch that flicker of defiance she can't hide. She doesn't know it yet, but I'm not her enemy. Not entirely.
Downstairs, Kieran and Jenson lean against the railing like they own the world, casual as ever, but their sharp eyes miss nothing. "How's it going with the new girl?" Jenson asks, unbuttoning his shirt like the morning is his to command. "Lara's staying. Moonshine doesn't do pack runs," I mutter, rolling the words around in my mouth.
"You're joking," Kieran frowns. "That's standard everywhere. Full moons empower every Wolf.
Best time to hunt. You sure you didn't see anything unusual?" "They worked. Trained.
Harvested their crops. Normal except for that," I shrug, though my stomach tightens. Something about this pack feels... off. Hidden. Secretive. Jenson cocks an eyebrow. "What do you think they're hiding?" "For starters... who really killed Lara's parents," I mutter, the words heavy, dangerous, unspoken. "Jarek?" Kieran guesses cautiously. "I don't think Jarek's clever enough. The idiot didn't even read the contract," Jenson mutters. "We should pay them a visit tomorrow."
"Surprise them?" I smirk. "Sometimes it's better when they don't see us coming. Jarek was already pissed about my arrival." After the hunt, I confirm plans with Kieran and Jenson and head upstairs for a shower. Quietly, I slip through the bedroom door. Relief washes over me. Lara is still asleep, curled around a pillow, protecting herself even in rest. The sweats I gave her hang loose, making her look smaller, fragile, almost breakable. But I can feel the quiet strength in her even in slumber.
I dry off quickly, climb in beside her, instinctively pulling her delicate frame close. She murmurs, half-asleep, a few funny noises escaping her lips, then settles again, trusting me enough to go back to sleep. Watching her, I notice she's rolled slightly toward me, pale skin kissed by the morning light.
Freckles scatter across her nose, faint but undeniable. She suddenly gasps, sitting upright, rubbing her eyes. "Where am I?" "You're in my pack, remember?" My voice is low, rumbling, no threat, only reassurance. Her eyes dart to mine, then down at the sheet barely covering her. "Are you... naked?!" The blush spreads like wildfire. "I prefer it that way in my own bed," I tease, enjoying the way her lips part in disbelief. She pats herself down, reassured. Aero huffs in my head. "We could strip her." "We take it slow. She's not like the others," I counter. Aero sulks, retreating into shadows, whining. Lara crosses the room to the small toilet, muttering under her breath like she's rehearsing courage. "When you're done," I call, "we need to put your cream on." Ten minutes pass before she reappears, eyes scanning the room like a test she hasn't passed. "Alone?" she asks, voice quivering, rolling her top up. "Alone. Well... mostly.
Others are here, just not close." My hand lingers near her stomach longer than necessary. Testing her, testing myself. She swallows hard, tension radiating off her like heat waves. Aero growls, "She's right here." I drop my hand. He sulks again, fading to the corners of my mind. Breakfast with Raven is... typical. She shoves a crumpet in her mouth and mutters, "You know my brother really likes you." My eyes flick to hers, half on her, half on Kael. "Prettier than the last girl," she adds casually. "Last girl?" I almost choke on my juice.
"You're his contracted mate, right?" she asks, flipping through a magazine like she's bored with the world. "I'm not the first?" I murmur. Unease knots my stomach. Memories flood back: Beta Kyle, screaming in the basement, bruises, rejection, the second bond my brother forced on me, the black-and-blue echoes of the past. "You'll stick," she says, shrugging. Dangerous. Not comforting. Hours pass. Lara fidgets with scraps of paper, muttering softly.
She can't read at twenty-two. Embarrassment and shame coat her words, and I feel the weight of her stolen life pressing down. Protectiveness, obsession, possessiveness it all twists into one tight coil in my chest. I watch her, memorizing the way she bites her lip when she's frustrated, how she clenches her fists when the letters don't make sense, how she pauses to breathe, as if the air itself can give her courage. Aero hisses in my mind. "Every inch. Don't let anyone touch her."
Finally, the doors swing open. Alpha Kael storms in, crimson eyes smoldering, scanning until they lock on me. "Where has Jarek gone?" he demands, voice like rolling thunder. "Huh?" I murmur. "Do I need to repeat myself? There was no one there. The packhouse empty. Lara, look at me!" His hand grabs my chin, forcing my eyes to meet his. Panic coils in me, but his expression softens slightly. "Not gone... just hidden.
They do something even when you said Moonshine doesn't run." My throat tightens. I had never left the pack until yesterday. Now, everything I thought I knew is a lie. I glance at Lara. Her blue eyes are wide, cautious, curiosity battling fear. She's small, vulnerable, yet there's something feral beneath her calm exterior, something stubborn and untouchable. Aero purrs in my mind, "She's ours.
Every inch." I step closer, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face, and for the first time, the room feels electric. My hand lingers not threatening, just claiming. She flinches slightly, then steadies herself. "Everything's fine," I murmur, more to myself than her. "You're safe... for now."
But even as I say it, the knot in my gut tightens. I don't trust this pack. Secrets linger in every shadow, every unspoken glance, every hushed conversation I've glimpsed. Lara shifts, silently, inching closer. Her trust is tentative, fragile, but it's there. And I'll do whatever it takes to protect it... to protect her. The sunlight cuts through the window, illuminating dust particles dancing in the air. I feel the pull of the pack, the weight of responsibility, the sting of obsession. Aero growls softly, "Claim her. All of her." I nod slightly, a smirk tugging at my lips. This fragile girl the one no one seems to understand is going to change everything. And I'll make sure she survives... even if I have to break every rule in the pack to do it.
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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.