The Innocent Traitor: Dying for the Alpha's Sin
After waking up from a five-year coma, I expected a warm embrace from my Fated Mate, Alpha Caleb.
Instead, I was greeted with disgust.
Standing beside a woman named Hailie, Caleb accused me of being a traitor. He claimed I had sold pack secrets and faked my coma to escape punishment.
My own brother, Fitz—the boy I had sacrificed my wolf spirit to save—stood by and let them condemn me to protect his own stolen power.
My life became a living hell.
Caleb locked me in a sauna filled with toxic Wolfsbane vapor.
He burned my skin with silver-laced water while Hailie laughed.
And finally, he watched me fall from a roof, leaving me to die broken and alone on the concrete.
It was only after my death that he discovered the truth: Hailie was the real spy, and I was innocent.
Consumed by guilt, Caleb burned to death beside my coffin, praying for a second chance.
The Moon Goddess heard him.
Time rewound. Caleb woke up back to the day I opened my eyes.
This time, he banished Hailie instantly.
He treated me like a fragile treasure, filling my room with roses and vowing to protect me from the world.
He thinks he has been given a miracle to fix his mistakes. He thinks he can make me fall in love with him again.
But there is one thing my "perfect" mate doesn't realize.
I didn't lose my memory in the reset.
I remember every single way he killed me.
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Chapter 4
Ericka POV:
The next morning, I knew I had to sever the emotional tie. If I didn't, the pain of the rejection would kill me before the silver did.
I crawled to the corner of the attic where I kept an old shoebox. Inside were photos of us-me, Fitz, and Caleb-from when we were children. Before the accident. Before I gave my wolf to Fitz. Before Caleb became Alpha.
We were smiling. Caleb had his arm around me.
I took a lighter I had found in the kitchen trash. With trembling hands, I set the edge of the photo on fire.
"Goodbye," I whispered, watching Caleb's smiling face turn to ash.
"What are you doing?"
Hailie's shrill voice made me jump. She stood at the door, her eyes widening as she saw the small flame. A wicked idea seemed to cross her face.
She kicked a pile of old newspapers near the rug toward me. Then, she kicked the burning photo onto them.
The dry paper caught fire instantly. The flames licked up the curtains.
"Fire! Fire!" Hailie screamed, but she didn't run. She stood there, smiling. Then her eyes glazed over-she was mind-linking. Alpha! Help! Ericka is trying to burn the house down! She's trying to kill me!
"No!" I tried to stomp out the fire, but I was too weak.
Moments later, Caleb burst into the room. He didn't ask questions. He didn't look at the evidence. He saw Hailie cowering in the corner (fake tears streaming down her face) and me standing near the flames.
"You insane bitch!" Caleb roared.
He grabbed me by the throat and slammed me against the wall. The back of my head cracked against the plaster.
"You try to murder your future Luna?" he snarled. "Because you're jealous?"
"She... she started it..." I gasped, clawing at his hand.
"Liar!"
He dragged me out of the smoke-filled room, down the stairs, and into the basement. He threw me into the pack's sauna room.
"Since you like heat so much," Caleb hissed, "let's see how you handle this."
He turned the dial all the way up. But he didn't stop there. He grabbed a bundle of dried herbs from a shelf-Wolfsbane-and threw it onto the heater rocks.
"Enjoy your penance."
He slammed the heavy wooden door and locked it.
The heat rose instantly. But it wasn't just the temperature. As the Wolfsbane burned, it released a thick, purple-tinged vapor.
Wolfsbane is a neurotoxin to werewolves. It paralyzes the lungs.
I curled into a ball on the wooden bench, coughing violently. The air felt like broken glass in my throat. My vision blurred. I couldn't breathe. My chest heaved, but no oxygen came.
Caleb... please... I tried to mind-link him, but the connection was dead silence. He had blocked me.
I lay there for what felt like hours. The heat was blistering, drying out my skin, while the poison shut down my nervous system. I was suffocating on dry land.
Just as the black edges of death began to close in, the door opened.
Splash.
A bucket of ice water hit me.
The thermal shock was agonizing. My body convulsed, and I went into immediate shock.
Hailie stood there, empty bucket in hand, looking disappointed that I was still moving.
"Oops," she giggled. "Caleb said to cool you down."
I couldn't move. I couldn't speak. I just lay on the wet floor, twitching, praying for the Moon Goddess to just take me.
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7.7
Kiara Mitchell thought she had it all, until her husband Leo brought her world crashing down with divorce papers, after three years of sacrifice.
She abandoned her dreams and career just to be the perfect wife for Leo, yet her devotion meant nothing to him. Instead, he went on to betray her with none other than her envious step-sister.
After being abandoned and broken, she vows to make them pay. She rebuilds her life with the help of Alex, her childhood sweetheart.
Five years later, she re-emerged as a top interior designer. When Leo sees the transformation of his ex-wife, he vows to stop at nothing till he wins her back.
Will Kiara go ahead with her quest for revenge or will she accept him back?
9.8
Aurora Vale was trained to be a weapon beautiful, precise, and disposable. Recruited as a teenager into a covert intelligence division that officially doesn't exist, Aurora has spent her life seducing secrets out of powerful men and destroying targets without ever pulling a trigger. Cold. Calculated. Untouchable. Inside the agency, she is known as The Steel Heart an operative who never fails and never feels.
Until her latest mission. Her target is Valerio Blackthorn, an untouchable crime lord feared even by governments brilliant, disciplined, and impossible to trap. Assigned as his personal bodyguard, Aurora is meant to get close, extract information, and deliver him to a massive takedown operation.
What she doesn't know is that Valerio has already seen the trap. Instead of exposing her, he lets her stay watching, testing, dismantling her carefully crafted tactics with unsettling calm. As the line between hunter and prey blurs, Aurora begins to realize the truth: Valerio is not the monster she was sent to destroy. And the government she serves is far more corrupt than the criminal world she was trained to infiltrate.
When Aurora discovers that the mission is not about justice but about silencing a former ally who refused to be controlled she makes an impossible choice. She betrays the agency. She saves the man she was meant to destroy.
Now branded a rogue agent with a kill on sight order, Aurora is forced into the shadows alongside Valerio. Hunted by her own government and by a ruthless international syndicate seeking revenge, the two must survive a war where trust is dangerous, love is lethal, and freedom comes at a devastating price.
As bullets fly and secrets explode onto the global stage, Aurora must decide who she truly is a weapon, a traitor, or a woman reclaiming her soul. In a world ruled by lies and power, love may be the most dangerous rebellion of all.
9.3
The first sign I was going to die wasn't the blizzard. It wasn't the bone-deep cold. It was the look in my fiancé's eyes when he told me he had given my life's work-our only guarantee of survival-to another woman.
"Kelsi was freezing," he said, as if I were being unreasonable. "You're the expert, you can handle it."
He then took my satellite phone, shoved me into a hastily dug snow pit, and left me to die.
His new girlfriend, Kelsi, appeared, wrapped snugly in my shimmering smart blanket. She smiled as she used my own ice axe to slash my suit, my last layer of protection against the storm.
"Stop being so dramatic," he told me, his voice full of contempt as I lay there freezing to death.
They thought they had taken everything. They thought they had won.
But they didn't know about the secret emergency beacon I had stitched into my sleeve. And with my last ounce of strength, I activated it.
8.7
Four years ago, I walked into liquid silver fire to drag the Alpha heir out of a burning wreck.
The silver melted the skin off my back, leaving me a topographic nightmare of scars, while my inner wolf went dormant to survive the pain.
I thought my sacrifice meant something.
But when Julian finally woke from his coma, he didn't look at me with love. He looked at my burns with pure disgust.
"Who let this broken Omega in here?" he sneered.
He pulled Estelle—the woman who had fled the scene without a scratch—into his arms.
"This," he declared, burying his face in her flawless neck, "is the scent of my savior. Not you. You smell like a chemical spill."
He treated me like a leper in my own pack. He let his sister slash my dress to expose my "ugly" back to dinner guests.
On the day he was forced to marry me for PR, he drove us to the altar with Estelle in the backseat.
When she faked a panic attack, claiming the wolfsbane I warned her about was "anxiety," Julian slammed on the brakes in the middle of a storm.
"Get out," he commanded, unlocking my door.
"Julian, we're ten minutes from the wedding."
"Estelle is dying! You selfish monster, get out!"
He kicked me out of the Rolls Royce, leaving me standing in the mud in my white silk gown.
As his taillights faded, I didn't cry. I closed my eyes and grabbed the frayed bond in my mind.
"I, Ember Tucker, reject you, Julian Copeland."
Snap.
He thought he was discarding a broken toy. He didn't realize he had just rejected the legendary White Wolf—and his only chance at survival.
9.4
My husband of three years, Arthur Vanderbilt, came home smelling of his mistress's perfume and threw divorce papers on our marble kitchen island.
He demanded I sign away all rights to our assets for a five-million-dollar "severance," calling me a leech his family picked up from the suburbs to solve a temporary PR crisis.
When I refused and demanded my four percent equity in the Vanderbilt Group, he and his mistress, Serena, launched a vicious smear campaign. They planted false stories on Wall Street forums, accusing me of laundering money for an Eastern European crime syndicate.
They tried to force my hand with a check for five hundred million, which I tore up and threw in his face. To them, I was just a trophy wife they could easily discard.
They had no idea that the "leech" they so despised was the anonymous investor who had secretly bailed out their entire company three years ago, saving them from bankruptcy.
Their final move was to hire an actress to publicly accuse me of fraud in the lobby of the most powerful law firm in Manhattan. They didn't realize I was there to retain the firm's most ruthless lawyer. After security threw them out, I looked my replacement in the eye and made her a promise.
"Prepare for an FBI probe into perjury and corporate defamation."
7.2
I am a top-tier Alpha from another universe, but a spatial jump error dropped me straight into a high-security military isolation chamber.
Right in front of me was a terrifying, silver-haired wolf-beastman Admiral, completely losing his mind to a lethal biological heat cycle.
To survive in this strange dimension where my powers were restricted, I had to pretend to be a helpless, terrified girl.
Surprisingly, my mere presence and scent instantly cured his incurable madness.
But this backfired horribly. He became obsessively possessive, treating me like a fragile, priceless treasure.
When I managed to sneak out to the city's lawless slums to gather intel and accidentally saved a dying panther boy, the Admiral went completely feral.
He brought an entire war fleet, blotting out the sky, just to "rescue" me.
He nearly slaughtered the boy out of blind jealousy, forcing me to throw myself into his arms and cry fake tears to stop the bloodshed.
"I'm taking you home. No one will ever hurt you again."
He brought me to his flagship's secret medical bay and ordered the Empire's chief doctor to run a full genetic classification test on me.
I panicked. If they discovered my true identity as an off-world Alpha, I would be dissected or executed.
I immediately commanded my AI system to fake my blood data, aiming for a perfectly average, forgettable Omega result.
But as the machine processed my blood, the alarms blared, and the system overloaded.
The old doctor fell to his knees in absolute worship, and the terrifying Admiral looked at me with wild, starving eyes.
My system had overcompensated. I wasn't registered as average. I was just classified as the only SSSSS-grade Omega in the history of the universe.