
The Heir He Denied
"I reject you," Alpha Damon sneered, looking down at the shivering Omega. "I need a Queen, not a servant."
Aria bowed her head and accepted her fate, but she took a secret with her when she fled into the night: the Alpha's heir growing in her womb.
Five years later, Aria returns to the city, no longer the weak girl who scrubbed floors. She is powerful, wealthy, and stunning. She thought she could hide from her past, but fate has a cruel sense of humor. Her new business partner is none other than Alpha Damon.
When Damon sees her, he realizes the mistake he made. He wants his mate back. But then he sees the little boy with his same grey eyes hiding behind her legs.
"Who is the child, Aria?" Damon growls, his possessiveness flaring.
Aria smiles coldly. "Someone you rejected."
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Chapter 1
The champagne tray in my hands felt like it weighed a hundred pounds. My arms trembled under the strain but I forced myself to keep moving through the crowded ballroom of the Blackwood Estate.
Tonight was the most critical night in the history of the local business world and the pack. It was the night Damon Blackwood turned twenty one. It was the night he would officially take over as CEO of Blackwood Tech and assume the title of Alpha from his father.
Most importantly to the hundreds of women in designer gowns crowding the room, it was the night he would likely find his fated mate.
I adjusted my grip on the cold metal handles. Through the floor to ceiling glass windows, the glittering skyline of the city looked miles away. It was a reminder of where I belonged. Out there. In the shadows. Not in here with the elite.
"Watch it," a sharp voice hissed near my ear.
I stumbled and nearly dropped the expensive crystal flutes. Tiffany, the daughter of the Pack Beta, shoved past me. She held a smartphone in one hand and a martini in the other. Her red silk dress cost more than I would earn in ten years of cleaning this mansion.
"Sorry Tiffany," I whispered and kept my head bowed.
"It is Luna Tiffany to you," she sneered. She checked her reflection in her phone screen. "Or it will be soon. Damon is going to pick me tonight. We are the perfect power couple."
She strutted away on her Louboutin heels. I held my breath to keep from coughing at her expensive perfume. Tiffany had been proclaiming herself the future Luna since high school. The sad part was that the media and the pack believed her. She was a model. She was rich. She was popular.
Me? I was Aria. The orphan. The maid who lived in the servants' quarters. The girl who had not shifted by her eighteenth birthday. I was simply defective.
I moved toward the edge of the room. My eyes scanned the crowd despite my better judgment.
Damon stood near the grand staircase. He looked like he had just stepped out of a GQ magazine. He held a glass of dark amber whiskey. He was laughing at something his CFO was saying. Even from across the room the power radiating off him was suffocating. He was tall with broad shoulders that strained against his bespoke Italian tuxedo. His hair was the color of midnight and his eyes were steel grey.
He looked like a king of the modern world.
A dull ache settled in my chest. I had loved Damon since I was twelve years old. That was back before my parents died in the car crash and I was demoted to the staff. He used to be kind. But money and power do strange things to people. As he grew into his role as a tech mogul and Alpha, he became colder. Harder.
"Aria," the Head of Staff snapped at me through his earpiece. "Table four needs a refill. Move."
I nodded quickly and rushed to the bar. My hands shook. Table four was right next to where Damon was standing.
Just do your job, I told myself. Pour the wine. Bow. Leave. Do not look at him.
I navigated through the sea of dancing bodies. The air was thick with the scent of wolves. It was a mix of expensive cologne and pheromones.
As I approached the VIP section, everyone checked their watches.
Midnight.
The DJ lowered the music. A collective intake of breath swept through the hall. It was the witching hour. Damon was officially of age. If his mate was in this room, his wolf and his soul would know immediately.
I froze and clutched the wine bottle to my chest.
Please let it be Tiffany, I prayed silently. Let it be anyone else so he can be happy and I can stop hoping.
I took a step forward and then it hit me.
It was not a sound. It was a smell.
It started faint. It was like the first drop of rain on hot asphalt. Then it grew sweeter. It mixed with the scent of warm vanilla and crushed pine needles. It was the most intoxicating thing I had ever encountered. It wrapped around my senses and pulled at my navel. It demanded I follow it.
My wolf usually lay dormant and silent in the back of my mind. She suddenly woke up. She did not just wake up. She howled.
MATE.
The single word echoed in my skull with the force of a church bell.
I gasped and the bottle slipped from my fingers.
Glass shattered against the polished marble floor. Red wine exploded outwards and splashed onto the hem of a pristine white tablecloth. The sound silenced the nearby conversation instantly.
I did not care about the wine. I did not care about the mess. My eyes snapped up and locked directly with those steel grey ones.
Damon had frozen mid laugh. His glass was halfway to his mouth. His nostrils flared. His pupils blew wide until his eyes were almost black.
He smelled it too.
"Mine," he whispered.
The word was low. It was a guttural growl that vibrated through the floorboards and went straight into my bones.
For one beautiful and delirious second my heart soared. It was a movie moment come to life. The Prince had found the Cinderella. The Billionaire had found his girl. I took a shaky step toward him with a smile trembling on my lips.
He is mine. I am not defective. I am his.
Damon set his glass down on the table with a loud clatter. He moved toward me with predatory speed. The crowd parted for him instantly because they sensed the Alpha intensity. Tiffany stood beside him looking confused. She sniffed the air but found nothing.
Damon stopped two feet in front of me. He towered over me. His shadow consumed my small frame. The bond was screaming now. It felt like a golden thread pulling our chests together. I wanted to throw myself into his arms. I wanted to bare my neck and let him claim me.
"Damon," I breathed. My voice was filled with wonder.
He looked down at me. I expected love. I expected lust.
Instead I saw horror.
Damon's lip curled in a sneer of absolute disgust. He looked at me like I was a virus that would crash his stock price.
"You?" he hissed. His voice dripped with venom.
My smile faltered. "Damon?"
"Follow me," he growled.
He did not offer me his hand. He turned on his heel and marched toward the side exit that led to his private office. He did not even check to see if I was following.
I scrambled after him. My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs. He is just shocked, I told myself. He is overwhelmed. It is a big surprise.
I followed him into the sleek modern office. He slammed the soundproof glass door shut behind us and cut off the noise of the party. The silence that followed was deafening.
Damon paced to the window and looked out at the estate grounds and the city lights beyond. He gripped the sill so hard his knuckles turned white. He was fighting his wolf. I could feel it through the bond. His wolf wanted to comfort me. But Damon the CEO was fighting it with cold logic.
"This is a mistake," he said with his back to me.
"Damon, the Moon Goddess does not make mistakes," I said softly. I stepped closer. "I felt it. You felt it."
He spun around. His face was twisted in anger.
"And look at you! Look at what She gave me!" He gestured wildly at my cheap uniform and my scuffed sneakers. "I am the CEO of Blackwood Tech. I am the Alpha of the most powerful pack on the East Coast. I need a Queen. I need a Luna who can command respect at a gala. Someone who can sit at a boardroom table and negotiate mergers."
He took a step closer. His voice dropped to a cruel whisper. "And instead I get the wolfless little mouse who cleans my hallways."
I flinched as if he had slapped me. The pain of his words was worse than any physical blow. "I may not have a wolf form yet but my bloodline is..."
"You are a weak Omega!" he roared. "You have no status. You have no money. You have no connections. If I introduce you as my mate out there the shareholders will laugh at me. Our rivals will see a weakness to exploit. I cannot afford weakness."
Tears pricked my eyes. They were hot and stinging. "Is that all I am to you? A liability?"
"You are nothing to me," he said coldly.
The bond shriveled in my chest. It cried out in agony at his rejection.
He straightened his tuxedo jacket and composed himself. The monster was gone. He was replaced by the cold unfeeling businessman.
"I will not accept this bond," he stated. His voice was devoid of emotion. "I have a duty to this company and this pack. Tiffany is perfect for the image I need. You are not."
"Tiffany?" I choked out. "She is cruel. She does not love you. She loves your credit card."
"She is suitable," Damon snapped. "You are not."
He took a deep breath. I knew what was coming. I wanted to cover my ears. I wanted to scream. I wanted to run. But the Alpha command in his posture held me frozen in place.
He looked me dead in the eye. His steel gaze pierced my soul.
"I, Damon Blackwood, Alpha of the Blood Moon Pack, reject you, Aria, as my mate and Luna."
The words hit me like a bullet. A scream tore from my throat as I fell to my knees on the plush office carpet. It felt like someone had reached into my chest and severed a vital artery. The golden thread that connected us snapped. It recoiled with a whip crack that burned my insides.
"Damon please," I gasped. I clutched my chest. "It hurts. Please."
He did not flinch. He watched me writhe on the floor with cold indifference.
"I reject the bond," he continued. "I sever the tie. You are free to find another."
Find another? There was no other. He was my soulmate. And he had just ripped my soul in half because I was not rich enough.
He walked past me toward the door. He checked his Rolex and paused with his hand on the handle. He did not look back.
"I will have HR deposit a severance check in your account in the morning," he said dismissively. "I want you off the estate by noon tomorrow. I cannot have you around distracting me while I announce my engagement to Tiffany."
The door clicked shut.
I was left alone in the dark office. The smell of vanilla and rain slowly faded. It was replaced by the metallic tang of my own heartbreak.
I curled into a ball on the floor. I sobbed until my throat was raw. He thought I was weak. He thought I was nothing.
I stayed there for hours until the tears finally ran dry. Slowly I pushed myself up. My legs shook but I forced them to hold my weight.
He wanted me gone by noon?
I wiped the last tear from my cheek. The pain was still there. It was a gaping hole where my heart used to be. But beneath the pain something else was waking up. Something cold and hard.
"Do not worry Alpha," I whispered to the empty room. "I will be gone before you even wake up."
I turned toward the window and the bright lights of the city highway in the distance. I did not know where I would go. I did not know how I would survive in the human world with nothing. But I knew one thing for sure.
Damon Blackwood had made his choice based on money and status. And one day he was going to regret it.
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7.2
In the roaring flames of the abandoned warehouse, my skin blistered and peeled.
Through the crackling fire, my sister Elara's malicious voice echoed. She told me my husband, Damien, was dead, and it was all my fault.
For years, I had treated Damien like a monster. I fought him, threw tantrums, and desperately tried to escape our marriage, all because I blindly followed Elara's advice.
"Remember, the harder you fight, the more disgusted he'll get."
She texted me things like that, telling me to smash vases over his head and run away, claiming she was protecting me.
In reality, she was poisoning my mind, stealing my valedictorian spot at university, and plotting to crawl into my billionaire husband's bed.
My foolish rebellion cost me everything, ultimately leading to Damien's tragic death and my own fiery end.
As the massive explosion tore my consciousness to shreds, I finally understood who truly loved me and who the real monster was.
I died suffocating on my own agonizing regret, wishing I could tear Elara apart.
Then, a rush of freezing air punched into my lungs.
I opened my eyes to the crisp scent of cedar and mint. I was back seven years ago, on the very night our marriage was supposed to go to hell.
This time, looking at Damien's flawless, unscarred face, I didn't push him away.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and made a silent vow: I would make every single person who ever hurt him bleed.

9.7
Luna Elena Frost was never chosen, only assigned.
Bound to Alpha Alaric Ashbourne through a cold contractual marriage, she endures three years as a Luna in name only. He never comes home, never defends her, and never looks at her, while his heart belongs to another woman.
At his grandmother's funeral, Alaric publicly dissolves their marriage, humiliating Elena before the entire pack. In that moment, she finally understands the truth. She was never wanted.
But the Moon has not abandoned her.
A forgotten night resurfaces. Her long-silent wolf begins to awaken. And secrets buried within her bloodline start to surface, drawing danger from every direction.
Cast out by the pack that once used her, Elena must flee, survive, and uncover her true power.
Only then does the Alpha realize his mistake.
By the time he turns back in regret, the Luna he rejected may already be gone forever.

7.2
After a one night stand with the woman whose house Jason broke into, his life has never been the same. Like a siren's call, he can't get the nymphomaniac woman off his mind. Weeks later, while getting intel for the crew's next heist, Jason lays eyes upon the woman and follows her into a secret strip club. She appears to lead a double life. One where she's the CEO of a multimillion company and her father's golden child. The other side of her life is that she owns a strip club and is extremely erotic. Can Jason learn to live with her as she is? Will he put his pride aside to be with the woman? ... especially when his crew is hired to kidnap a woman who turns out to be the love of his life.

8.4
Cast out by an "elite" family and mocked by high society, Elena shocked everyone by marrying the most powerful man in town.
They assumed it was a temporary arrangement-after all, he had said, "The agreement is for two years. After that, we're done."
Yet after the wedding, he refused to let her go. "Elena, you can't leave me."
As he doted on her, rumors shattered one by one. A renowned painter, top hacker, and tech mastermind-her true identities stunned the world.
When a luxury empire announced their lost heiress, all eyes turned to her. "Why did she look exactly like Elena?"

8.1
At twenty-one, Cynthia Lucas is done waiting for life to be kind. Orphaned and drowning in her adoptive father's crushing debt, she's prepared to do whatever it takes to survive.
She just didn't expect "whatever it takes" to mean him.
Ethan Drake-ruthless, devastatingly handsome, and the city's fastest-rising business tycoon-becomes both her boss and her target after a chance encounter binds their fates. She's been sent to destroy him. It should be simple.
But Ethan Drake is no easy prey.
Cold. Calculating. Dangerous.
And far too tempting.
His offers are sinful. His touch is addictive. And every heated night blurs the line between strategy and surrender. Cynthia tells herself she's only selling her body to clear a debt.
So why does it feel like she's losing her heart instead?
When desire turns into something far more dangerous, Cynthia must decide-will she finish the job she was sent to do... or risk everything for the man she was meant to ruin?
This story is packed with intense passion and gripping drama. Please be advised that it borders on erotic romance and includes explicit sexual content. Reader discretion is strongly recommended.

9.0
I stood in the center of the Pierre Hotel’s grand ballroom, a mute, smiling doll in a Dior dress. My job was to signal stability to investors while my fiancé, Clive Fitzpatrick, looked for any excuse to ignore me.
The night of our engagement, the world turned into a different kind of hell. I watched Clive disappear onto the terrace with another woman, his hand possessively on her waist. Distraught and drunk, I stumbled into a dark penthouse suite seeking sanctuary. I woke up the next morning to a gravelly voice and the smell of expensive tobacco. I hadn't slept with my fiancé; I had accidentally spent the night with his uncle, Bruno Fitzpatrick—the man Wall Street called the "executioner."
The humiliation was only the beginning. Clive didn't just cheat; he admitted he was only marrying me to steal my family's voting rights so I could "rot" in an apartment while he lived with his mistress. When I tried to protest, my adoptive mother, Claudia, dragged me into a private room and whipped me with a riding crop to remind me of my place. She held up a video of my frail, sick sister, Lucia, making it clear that my total obedience was the only thing keeping Lucia alive. I was a business asset to be traded, used, and beaten into submission.
I couldn't understand why everyone I was supposed to trust was so eager to destroy me. Was I really just a mannequin to be discarded once the merger papers were signed? The marks on my back burned, but the ice in my veins was colder. I was done being the victim of a mediocre man and a heartless mother.
Then Bruno offered me a way out. At the family dinner, right in front of my cheating fiancé, he proposed a lethal bet: if I could raise the company’s stock by ten percent in thirty days, he would give me his board veto—the ultimate power to crush Clive and Claudia forever. If I failed, I would owe him any favor he asked. I looked at the man who had ruined me and the man who wanted to own me, and I realized I had nothing left to lose. I wasn't going to be a doll anymore; I was going to be the one who burned the house down.