The Prophecy's Reject
Zylia Nightshade has always been the underdog, the pack's shame. She was an omega who was mocked, ignored and unwanted. When it was revealed that her fated mate was Killian Silverclaw, the Alpha of Howlborne pack, a bond was formed, only for a prophecy to tear it apart.
However, terrified of the unknown, Alpha Killian rejects her under the blood moon before casting her out into exile.
As Zylia learns to survive among the rogues, she discovers a rare gift connected to the Moon Goddess herself. She must also learn to fight and rise against the fate that has been thrust upon her.
As enemies also rise in the shadow, Zylia must decide: will she let the prophecy define her? Or will she forge her own destiny?
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Chapter 7
Zylia's POV
"Found this by the ridge," he said, his voice rough with nerves.
He tossed it into the dirt. The firelight caught on dark metal , blackened, cracked, stamped with a strange sigil. A crescent shape torn through by claws.
The murmurs began instantly.
"What the hell is that?"
"That's not pack work."
"It reeks of magic."
Mason crouched beside the emblem, his brow furrowing. "Where exactly did you find it?"
"Near the stream," the man said. "Half buried. Looked fresh."
I took a step closer, the smell of ash biting at my nose. Something about the symbol made my stomach twist. It felt... wrong. Not dangerous in the way blades were , dangerous like something older.
Like Something was watching.
Mason touched the edge of the emblem with his knife. "This isn't Howlborne's mark."
One of the older rogues spat. "Then whose is it?"
No one answered. The silence that followed was worse than the question.
A man behind me muttered, "It showed up the same week she did."
My heart skipped. "What?"
"She's the only new thing around here," another voice growled. "Maybe she brought it."
Mason straightened slowly. "You think she dropped a curse on her own camp?"
"Wouldn't be the first time a pack rat brought trouble," someone snapped.
Laughter followed, sharp and mean.
"I didn't bring anything!" I said, the words spilling out before I could stop them. "I swear, I've never seen that before."
"Lies." The man who spoke stepped forward , tall, scarred, his yellow eyes glowing faintly in the firelight. "I can smell the pack on you still."
He grabbed my arm before I could move. His grip was firm, tight, like iron, crushing the flesh beneath his fingers. "Maybe we should cut the truth out of you."
"Let her go," Mason said, his voice even.
The rogue didn't move. "You're too soft, Mason. You keep taking in strays, and one day they'll gut you in your sleep."
Mason's knife was at the man's throat before I even saw him move. The blade glinted, reflecting the fire's thin light.
"Say that again," Mason murmured.
The man's jaw clenched. After a tense heartbeat, he released me and stepped back. Mason didn't lower the knife until the other rogues looked away.
I rubbed my arm where bruises were already forming. Mason noticed, his gaze flicking to my skin, then away. "You okay?"
"I'm fine," I lied.
He turned back to the emblem in the dirt. "Whatever this is, it's not pack work. But it means someone's tracking these woods."
A low murmur spread again , quieter this time, edged with fear.
"Tracking us?" a rogue asked.
Mason nodded once. "Maybe. Or testing boundaries. Either way, it's a warning."
The fire crackled, spitting embers into the cold night. I could feel their stares on me , suspicion crawling like insects beneath my skin.
I took a step back. "You think it's me, don't you?"
No one answered.
Mason's voice was steady. "If someone's coming, we'll be ready. Get some rest."
The others hesitated before drifting off into the shadows, muttering under their breath. The only sound left was the wind tugging through the trees and the whisper of the knife sliding back into Mason's belt.
He kicked dirt over the emblem, burying it beneath ash and soil. "Don't leave camp tonight," he said without looking at me.
I nodded, though my throat felt tight. "Mason,"
"Just stay close to the fire."
He walked off into the dark, shoulders tense, leaving me alone with the faint glow of embers and the feeling that something unseen was crawling closer.
I sank down beside the dying fire, hugging my knees to my chest. The woods beyond flickered with shadows, and my thoughts wouldn't stop circling the mark , the torn crescent, the claws, the way the air around it had felt heavy.
Something about it called to me. Whispered.
A faint breeze brushed the hair from my face. For a second, I thought I heard it again , the whisper from my dream.
Not all prophecies speak truth. Some speak choice.
I shivered and pressed my hands to the ground, grounding myself in the dirt.
Then I heard the crunch of a twig behind me.
I froze. "Mason?"
No answer.
The sound came again, slow and deliberate.
I turned, but the dark behind me seemed to breathe.
Another step. But this time, it was closer.
"Mason?" My voice came out smaller than I wanted.
A shadow moved between the trees , tall, deliberate, watching.
The air grew colder. My pulse pounded in my ears.
Then a voice, deep and calm, spoke from the dark.
"Running won't help you, little stray."
I couldn't breathe.
The wind shifted, carrying the faintest scent of smoke and blood.
"Who...who are you?" My voice shivered.
I didn't turn to look at who it was.
My pulse spiked.
"Touch her or you're wolf steak." A voice growled from behind me.
I turned and it was...
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7.4
In a world ruled by dominance and desire, being an Omega is a curse, especially when you're mine.
On his eighteenth birthday, Luca wakes to a nightmare, his wolf has chosen the lowest rank of all. An Omega. The scent of submission, the mark of shame and the kind of wolf others own, use, and discard.
But Luca isn't broken, he's burning and the only one who's ever made him feel safe is Rafe, his best friend, his protector and his temptation.
Then Rafe shifts and becomes an Alpha and their wolves recognize each other, the bond between them is instant, magnetic, and utterly forbidden.
Because an Alpha claiming a Male Omega?
That's forbidden, but this Omega? He's different
Now their connection is more than a secret, It's a sin to their world, a deadly craving, slow, delicious and primal to fall into.
And when one bite can seal a bond or spark a war, how long can they resist it?
He's not supposed to want him.
But gods, he does.
And once an Alpha touches what's his... he never lets go.
7.4
I was supposed to hate him.
He destroyed my kingdom. Killed my family. Made me a slave.
But when Prince Daresh looks at me with those burning blue eyes-eyes that can hear my every thought-I feel something I shouldn't.
Desire.
He's the most dangerous demon in the realm. Silver-haired, ruthless, and feared by everyone-even his own brothers. They say he has no heart. No mercy.
So why does he look at me like I'm the only thing that matters?
When I try to escape, he saves me. When I'm broken, he pieces me back together. And when his enemies come for me, he'll burn the entire demon realm to the ground to keep me safe.
But our love is forbidden.
I'm human. He's a demon prince with a secret that could destroy us both.
And the life growing inside me? It might be the most dangerous thing of all.
In a world where fire and water destroy each other, we're about to prove that some bonds are unbreakable.
A dark paranormal romance featuring a possessive demon prince, a defiant human princess, forbidden magic, and a love that will set the realm on fire.
8.1
His second name is Death. Anyone who tries to get too close to him loses their life. He was cursed with the blood of his dead brother and till he finds the killer of his brother, he's forever bound with the curse. He's avoided like a plague, but he even loves it that way. He's so addicted to solitude and being alone. He is a bloody supernatural being, an unusual wizard. The only child born under Three Red Stars on a gloomy night 25 years ago. The demons fret at the smell of his scent, and evils flee. He has no shadow even in the dark. He is soulless-Orion Alaric, that's his name. The son of Duran Alaric, who owns Mystic Institute, a school for supernatural beings, located deep in the fogs of Mount Delos. Mystic Institute takes in over five hundred disciples yearly, and of the five hundred, Orion was determined to find his brother's killer that year, so he joined the school as a superior. There he sat on his throne, and as expected, she came.
Samara Hercules, a whitehead witch who's the exact opposite of everyone around him. Unexpectedly she is not the one he's hunting for, but her white hair reminds him of the killer each time he sets eyes on her and that builds a toxic hatred in him for Samara.
He was even ready to get rid of her so he wouldn't have to see her face anymore.
Let's stop here....
Now are you ready to jump into the book and see how things go?
Will Samara ever escape him and his tortures
Will romance ever bloom between these two?
Will his curse ever get lifted?
Will the real killer ever show up?
And are you in for the steamy romance, fights, jealousy, betrayal, and series of dramas between the supernaturals? Demons and dark forces?
Join this rollercoaster ride, don't miss out.
7.0
I was the fated mate of Ryker Blackwood, the future Alpha, but my lack of an awakened wolf made me a pathetic joke to his pack.
Instead of protecting me, he publicly rejected me, chose the manipulative Lilith Vane as his Luna, and locked me in a freezing dungeon.
While the entire pack cheered for their final mating ceremony above, I rotted in heavy chains below.
When a rogue attack killed our unborn pups, I reached out to him in agony, but his voice through our fading bond was like splintered ice.
"Our pups are dead. Don't bother me again."
He didn't care at all. The casual dismissal shattered my inner wolf, and I died in that filthy cell, suffocating on my own despair and a hatred so potent it burned through my last breath.
Until my last moment, I couldn't understand why my absolute devotion was met with such cruel betrayal, and why my fated mate let our children die without a second thought.
Opening my eyes again, I wasn't in the dungeon.
I was back in my seventeenth year, choking on the icy water of the lake Lilith had just pushed me into.
Seeing Ryker's arrogant sneer and Lilith's fake concern on the shore, I didn't cry or beg for his attention like I did in my past life.
This time, I would publicly sever our sacred bond, awaken my true Alpha bloodline, and make them pay for every drop of my blood.
9.8
When I woke up on the muddy bank of the freezing river, I unlocked a brutal, unfiltered preview of my actual future.
For the past six months, I had been the town's ultimate joke, chasing after a city boy who looked at me like a diseased insect. Everyone thought I jumped into the river because he rejected me.
But the nightmare didn't stop there. In the future I foresaw, my entire family was destroyed. My eldest brother was handcuffed and dragged into a squad car. My second brother died in a pool of blood on the asphalt. My parents passed away from sheer grief and humiliation, and our farm was foreclosed.
Meanwhile, Bart Hawkins—my family's sworn enemy, the boy everyone accused of pushing me, but who actually jumped in to save my life—became a billionaire tech mogul. I ended up starving to death in a damp, moldy basement, completely alone.
I finally understood that I was just a pathetic, tragic side character meant to drag my family into hell. My own sister-in-law, Felicie, had been stealing our food and money, laughing at my misery behind my back.
But right now, my mother was still alive, my brothers were safe, and the farm was ours.
When Felicie walked into my bedroom, playing the devoted sister-in-law with a bowl of clear, meatless broth while a stolen roasted chicken thigh leaked grease through her apron pocket, I didn't play along.
"What's in your pocket, Felicie?"
This time, I was going to tear that horrific future apart with my bare hands.
8.7
Kaylee woke up to the smell of rotting leaves and blood, realizing she had transmigrated into the grimdark fantasy novel she was reading last night.
A robotic system in her head immediately delivered a death sentence: she was the tribe's vicious cannon fodder, and the male lead—a brutally tortured slave named Elijah—was currently dying on a totem pole outside.
"If he dies, you will face instant soul-detonation."
Kaylee rushed to the plaza, using her villainous authority to stop the execution and drag his mangled body back to her hut.
But saving him was a nightmare.
The original owner's sadism had traumatized him so deeply that her gentle touches and clean bandages only triggered his PTSD.
His feral energy spiraled out of control, his golden eyes burning with paranoid terror as he waited for a new, twisted psychological game.
To keep his energy from detonating and killing them both, Kaylee was forced to act like a monster.
"I didn't save you because I care. A dead slave is useless to me."
Only her cruel insults and threats of future torture calmed his broken mind.
Adding to her despair, she stumbled upon the novel's supposedly innocent heroine in the forest, only to hear her system detect a terrifying anomaly.
The fragile heroine had her own cheat system.
Trapped with a paranoid future-tyrant and a rival player manipulating the tribe's strongest warriors, Kaylee shoved a bowl of hot stew at the bleeding slave with a mocking sneer.
To survive this hell, she had to play the villain perfectly.