Follow
Chapters
Share
The Broken Luna's Revenge: Alpha's Regret Novel Cover

The Broken Luna's Revenge: Alpha's Regret

I was the anomaly. The Glover heiress who never shifted. To my fated mate, Alpha Bryant, I was lower than an Omega—I was his servant. When his mistress, Kalia, pushed me into the freezing lake, I screamed for him. I felt the mate bond pull, begging him to save me. But Bryant looked right at my flailing body, turned his back, and swam to save the woman who had pushed me. He didn't stop there. To "teach me submission," he locked me in a silver-coated cell that burned my skin like acid, all because Kalia lied about a stomach ache. He watched her burn my dead mother's journals. He let her slap me until I bled. He told me I was a genetic dead end, a defect that needed to be erased. I lay in the dark, my bones broken and my heart shattered, wondering why the Moon Goddess hated me. But she didn't hate me. She was preparing me. Bryant thought he had broken me. He didn't know that the man who pulled me from the water wasn't a rogue, but the Lycan King. And he certainly didn't expect me to walk into his gala, hand in hand with the King, and unleash the power of the White Wolf to burn his entire dynasty to the ground.
Chapters
Share

Chapter 5

Charlotte POV:

The morning after the cellar incident, Bryant tried to buy my forgiveness.

He slid a check across the breakfast table. It was for ten thousand dollars.

"For the inconvenience," he muttered, sipping his coffee. "Buy yourself a new dress. Or fix your teeth. Whatever."

I looked at the check. It was drawn from the joint account-money that was mostly my inheritance from the Glover estate. He was paying me off with my own money.

I picked up the check. Slowly, deliberately, I tore it down the middle. Then again. And again. I let the confetti pieces fall into his perfectly poached eggs.

"I don't want your money, Bryant."

He slammed his mug down. "Then what do you want? An apology? Alphas don't apologize."

"I want you to attend my birthday gala next week. As my fiancé."

He scoffed. "Obviously. It's a pack requirement."

"And," I continued, leaning in, "I want you to wear the suit I designed. The prototype."

Bryant raised an eyebrow. "That stretchy garbage you make? Fine. If it shuts you up."

I smiled. It didn't reach my eyes.

For the next three days, I buried myself in work. I stayed at the AURA headquarters, sleeping on the couch in my office. My staff-mostly humans and a few lower-tier wolves who didn't know my identity-worked tirelessly.

We were launching the "Eclipse" line. Smart-fabric that shifted molecular structure when exposed to rapid expansion. No more naked walks home after a shift. No more shredded designer suits.

The launch was a digital runway show, streamed directly to the werewolf elite.

It was a massive success. Orders flooded in from packs in Europe, Asia, and the West Coast. The "Omega's Miracle," the blogs called it.

I felt a flicker of pride. This was mine.

Then, the notification pinged.

Breaking News: Kalia Baron exposes massive fraud at AURA.

My blood ran cold.

I opened the link. It was a livestream. Kalia was sitting in a studio, looking tearful. She held up a sketchbook. My sketchbook. The one that had gone missing weeks ago.

"These are my designs," she sobbed. "Charlotte stole them. She used her access to the house to steal my art. She can't even shift... how could she understand the mechanics of a transformation suit?"

It was a compelling argument to the ignorant masses.

Then, the screen split. Bryant appeared via video link.

"I confirm this," Bryant said, looking solemn. "Kalia has been working on these sketches for months. Charlotte Glover is a troubled woman with a history of jealousy. We are saddened that she would stoop this low."

The comments section exploded.

Thief!

Wolfless scum stealing from a future Luna!

Boycott AURA!

Within an hour, the cancellations started. Distributors pulled out. My email inbox filled with hate mail and death threats.

I sat in my office, the glow of the monitors illuminating my pale face.

They didn't just want to hurt me. They wanted to erase me. They wanted to take the one thing I had built with my own hands and give it to the woman who tortured me.

My phone rang. It was the building security.

"Miss Glover, there's a mob outside. They're throwing stones. You need to leave."

I stood up. I grabbed my cane.

I didn't go out the back. I went down to the garage. I got into my car.

I drove straight to the Barnes Tower.

I stormed past the receptionist. I took the elevator to the top floor.

When I kicked open the doors to Bryant's office, the scene was almost comical. Kalia was sitting on his desk, popping a bottle of champagne. Bryant was laughing.

They stopped when they saw me.

"You," I said, pointing my cane at Kalia. "You held the pencil wrong in the video."

Kalia blinked. "What?"

"In your fake interview. You held the charcoal stick like a pen. No designer does that. You smudge the lines."

Kalia jumped off the desk. "Who cares? The world believes me. The Alpha confirmed it."

I looked at Bryant. "You know she can't draw a stick figure. You know I spent nights working on those formulas."

Bryant sighed, looking bored. "It's better for the Pack's image, Charlotte. A Luna who is a genius inventor? That sells. A wolfless cripple running a company? That's embarrassing. We're rebranding AURA under Kalia's name tomorrow."

He said it so casually. As if he was discussing the weather.

"You're stealing my company," I said.

"We're acquiring it," he corrected. "As your Alpha, I own your assets. Since you are unfit to manage them."

He pressed a button on his desk. "Security, escort Miss Glover out. And ban her from the building."

Two burly guards entered. They grabbed my arms.

"Get your hands off me!" I shouted.

Bryant stood up. He walked over to me, leaning down so his face was inches from mine.

"Go home, Charlotte. Wait for the wedding. Be the silent, obedient wife I need. Or..."

"Or what?" I challenged.

"Or I will declare you a Rogue. I will strip you of the Glover name, kick you out of the territory, and let the wild wolves hunt you down."

It was a death sentence. A Rogue without a wolf form wouldn't survive a night.

I looked at him. Really looked at him. The handsome face I once adored now looked like a mask of rotting meat.

"I'll see you at the Gala, Bryant," I whispered.

He smirked. "Wear something nice."

I let the guards drag me out.

As the elevator doors closed, I didn't cry. I pulled out my phone.

I dialed Jaden.

"Buy it," I said.

"What?" Jaden asked.

"The Barnes debt. The mortgages. The loans. Everything. Buy it all."

"Consider it done, my Queen."

I hung up.

They wanted a show? I would give them a show. And when the curtain fell, there would be nothing left of the Barnes Pack but ash.

You may also like

A Heart Misplaced, A Love Bone-Deep Novel Cover
9.1
Julian Laurent was known as the most notorious playboy in Rivermont, changing girlfriends as often as he changed his clothes and treating marriage like a joke. Clara Sterling, on the other hand, had always been the most quiet and obedient daughter of the Sterling family. Raised as the heir since childhood, she had been flawless in every word and every gesture. A family-arranged marriage forced these two complete opposites into the same life. On their wedding night, Julian openly made out with a young model at a nightclub. For the first time, Clara cast aside her propriety, slapping him and demanding a divorce on the spot. But before the next day was over, their families had forced them to remarry. This time, Julian managed to stay faithful for a month before he cheated again. Clara filed for divorce once more, cutting ties with him completely. However, that very same day, it was revealed that Clara was not the real daughter of the Sterling family, and she was thrown out. At her lowest point, Julian found her and solemnly promised to protect her from then on. They remarried again, and from that day forward, the scandals surrounding Julian ceased. Everyone said Clara was lucky. Even her best friend insisted that Julian had truly settled down, and Clara believed it. Until she saw him in a hospital corridor, holding her best friend's hand, his voice strained with deep emotion, "I never liked her. You're the one I've always loved!" It turned out all of his tenderness had been a lie. This time, she walked away and never looked back. And the man who had once treated her as disposable only realized after she was gone that he had long since drowned in her quiet love, unable to escape.
After He Saved Her, I Walked Away Forever Novel Cover
8.5
The ceiling cracked first. Not a sound you forget. Not a groan or a creak — a snap, like a bone breaking inside the building itself. I looked up from my music stand and saw the fracture race across the plaster above the rehearsal hall, fast and jagged, like lightning drawn in reverse. Then the floor moved. It rolled under my feet, and my bow skidded across the strings in a shriek that didn't sound human. Music stands toppled. Someone screamed near the back of the hall. The overhead lights swung in wide, sickening arcs, throwing shadows that lurched across the walls like living things. I reached for Gregory.
Dying, I Left His Ruthless Bed Novel Cover
7.7
The Cameron family clinic smelled like lemon polish and impending death. For three years, I'd been a vessel in a cold, forced marriage to Underboss Kade Cameron. But today, the doctor's words would shatter everything. "No heartbeat," Dr. Finch declared, then, "Stage IV gastric cancer. Terminal." A double death sentence. As the world tilted, a news alert flashed: Kade, my husband, parading his mistress, Carla Shaw, across Europe-"a love that defies family lines." Dying and carrying his dead child, I overheard nurses gossip Kade wanted me gone for his "true love." I chose to feel the D&C agony, cleansing him from my soul. Stumbling out, Kade accused me of killing his child, then rushed Carla, feigning illness, to OB/GYN, ignoring my bleeding and dying state. Back at the mansion, I vomited blood, my body failing. Kade watched with disgust, dismissing my terminal diagnosis as a "performance." He called me "collateral," a "debt payment," then left me for his mistress. The last shred of loyalty shattered, replaced by chilling clarity. I signed the divorce papers he dismissed as a "tantrum," leaving his ring. No longer a Cameron, no longer his possession. With Fluffy, I made one call, choosing to die on my own terms, finally free.
My Ex-Husband's Fatal Ignorance Novel Cover
9.1
Five years ago, I was a world-renowned concert pianist. Now, I'm an auto mechanic with a mangled right hand, hiding from a past my ex-husband, Carter, dismisses as a "tantrum." He drags me to a charity gala where his mistress, Alexandrea, puts me on the spot, demanding I play for the city's elite-a cruel, public humiliation she knows I can't perform. When I refuse, Carter shoves me to the ground in a rage. He still thinks our daughter, Lily, is alive, and he uses her as a weapon. "Behave," he hisses, "and maybe we can bring Lily back home." Bring her home? The sheer ignorance is staggering. He has no idea our daughter froze to death in the same car crash that destroyed my hand. But just before the gala, my best friend uncovered the final, devastating truth. It wasn't an accident. They sabotaged my car and left us for dead. Tonight, I'm not just attending a party. I'm orchestrating a funeral. Theirs.
Rejected Mate's Scarlet Redemption Novel Cover
8.7
My mate, Alpha Boston Cruz of the Silver Fang Pack, was obsessively clean. In the three years of our bond, I was never able to get close to him; I couldn’t even hand him a paintbrush without wrapping it in paper first. Even then, he’d take it and meticulously sanitize it with disinfectant. If I accidentally touched his fingertips, he’d punish me by making me kneel naked in the sun, claiming it was to disinfect me and purify my filthy body. Things changed one day when I tripped over a paint bucket and fell into his arms. I was surprised when he didn’t make me kneel outside, and I naively thought he was finally willing to accept me. But the next day, my nude sketches were up for auction at an underground exhibition. Some wealthy rogues inquired about the price with obvious ill intentions. Alpha Boston stood expressionless, spraying alcohol over himself. "A filthy Omega, riddled with germs, dares to touch the clothes Beta Clare gave me?" he sneered, his Alpha tone cutting through the room like a whip.
The Abandoned Wife's Cold Revenge Novel Cover
9.4
I was bleeding out on the cold ER table, my body failing, while the hospital’s blood bank sat empty. My husband, Clayton, stood just outside the glass doors, watching me die with the terrifying indifference of a man deciding on dinner. When the doctor begged him to sign the transfusion consent form to save my life, he didn't hesitate. He took the pen, slashed his signature across the Refusal of Treatment form, and turned his back on me to answer a call from the woman he truly loved. As my heart monitor flatlined into a long, piercing scream, I watched him walk away to comfort his mistress over a thunderstorm, leaving his legal wife to rot in a body bag. I was nothing to him—a vicious, disposable obstacle in his perfect world—and he ensured I left with absolutely nothing, freezing my accounts and cutting off my life. But he made one fatal mistake: he left me alive. I survived, and as I lay in the dark, the pathetic flame of my love for him snapped and died, replaced by a cold, broken promise. If I survived this night, I would make sure he bled for every second of the hell he put me through. I ripped the IV from my arm, stood up on my prosthetic leg, and walked out to start my war.