The Rejected Alpha and His Human Mate
"Mate!" He growled, grabbing her by the waist as he leaned in to sniff her neck.
Her mouth hung open in shock and her eyes bulged as he swiftly dodged a spear sent their way, carrying her along with him, his nose still on her neck.
Who was this stranger? And how could he cling onto her this way in the middle of a battle? Wasn't he afraid of death?
On the clanging of the iron spear against the floor, her eyes went even wider as the red veins in them began to get visible.
Wait a minute!
She raised her right knee into his groin just then and he let out a loud groan before letting go of her.
On seeing his face, an angry snarl formed on her lips and she drew her gun, disgust filling up her entire being.
This was the face of their worst enemy, the face of the man she was meant to kill, the face of a known lunatic.
How dare he cling unto her that way with his wet snot on her neck?
"Mate?" He moaned softly as he put his hands up in the air, his piercing eyes never leaving her face.
Mate? Was he out of his ducking mind? Was he ... like possessed by an animal spirit or something?
'Shoot on sight.' The words of her commander rang in her ears, startling her.
*****
He is the all powerful Alpha of the wolves, dangerous, bloodthirsty and the archenemy of the humans but what happens when the moon goodness curses his fate by mating him to a human?
Would he lose his infamous reputation for her sake or go through eternal suffering by letting her go?
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Chapter 5
A force slammed her back into her seat, her veins thrumming with rushing blood as heat began to rise up her neck.
"What the hell do you think you are DOING!?" The sexy guy hissed at her, his eyes reddish and wild.
"I..." She opened her mouth to talk but bit back a scream as the body of the man before her suddenly flew backwards in the air and slammed into a crooked tree.
She watched him hit the floor with a low groan before lying painfully still.
She didn't want to think he was dead.
She didn't need to care if he was alive either, these men are the same people who murdered her people but the guilt was eating deep into her.
Swallowing, her eyes slowly moved around and her bladder almost gave way as the wolves she saw a few minutes ago were no more, humans now in their stead.
With heart thundering in her ears, she felt all her blood climb up into her head the moment she caught his now glowing mismatched eyes.
"Sweet Lord!" She cried out shakily and hoarsely.
What in the name of voodoo was this??
In a blink, he was right in front of the car's opened door and she let out a strangled sob.
"Why?" He boomed, his veins popping out in every possible place on his face and neck.
"I am sorry, I am sorry." She let out a frightened whisper, unaware of what else to do or say in this situation.
"You shouldn't have." He hissed, baring his teeth at her.
"Yes...yes, yes I should have never thought of..." Her words died in her throat the moment he wrapped his large hand around her neck, his mismatched eyes a blazing flame.
The tingles spreading through her body were no longer sweet and soothing, they felt like tiny ants scattering all through her body.
"Aaahhh!" She let out a shriek of agony, feeling the thick taste of blood at the back of her throat.
"Do you feel it?" He asked through his teeth as he squeezed on her throat.
She tried to swallow, tears prickling the back of her eyes at the unbearable pain.
"That's a minute amount of what I feel right now."
"Just... ju...let me go." She pleaded again, already tired of everything happening.
Her eyes squeezed shut and hot tears spilled from them, she wanted to be rid of the weird pain and of the memory of today...
He ripped his hand from her throat so fast that her eyes snapped open only to see a heart wrenching frown marring his face just for three minutes.
"You can't do that..." He started slowly as if talking to himself, before looking right into her eyes.
"You can't say that!" He barked this time around, his fists shaking by his side.
"That's an indirect rejection. You...number 3...you are my mate." He said slowly, carefully laying his hand on her shoulder and grimacing when she flinched away from his touch.
"I am nobo..."
"The future Luna of this pack!"
This was the final evidence she needed to confirm that this terrorist was crazed.
"You need to...to get your head checked." She spat weakly at him and watched him nod with a humourless smile before sliding his hand back to his side.
"Bring him here." He ordered, holding her stare.
She looked ahead of him to see them dragging the guy she had just kissed.
She had no strength left to panic but she tried to plead. "Let him go, ple..."
"Cuff her." He ordered again and turned his back to her.
This time a new face appeared in her line of sight, blocking her from seeing his back.
With a hateful sneer, the lady cuffed her hands in a flash, making it tighter than she could ever imagine.
It was impossible to move her arm.
"What are you doing to me?" She whispered in a hoarse voice.
"Shut the fuck up bitch!" The lady spat at her before swiping her thumb across her neck.
She was in a special unit and shouldn't be scared but for some reason, she could not bear to think of the gruesome ways these crazed occultic members would deal with her.
Would they eat her raw?
Burn her alive?
Dismember her till she was no more?
A shocking shiver ran through her spine.
She opened her mouth to talk.
"Gag her." He ordered again and her eyes widened.
No! He wouldn't dare...
Out of thin air, a rod got stuck in-between her teeth.
With a clap and a smirk from the lady, she felt her teeth forcefully get jammed on the rod.
A sickening punch from behind the lady resounded in her ears, pushing her heart down to her stomach and the hatred in the lady's eyes intensified.
"If anything should happen to our beta, you would regret ever having the unlucky fate of being mated to our Alpha." The lady threatened before stepping away.
The sight before her was so brutal that she couldn't stomach it anymore.
The terrorist was repeatedly hitting the kneeling guy straight to the bridge of the nose till blood began sprouting out and teeth were falling off one after the other.
She wanted to scream for him to stop, for someone to help but the moment her eyes started to dart around, she felt herself shrink back into her seat.
More than half of the people standing around had their heated gaze on her. The intense hatred in them almost burned her up as she continued to shrink back, not knowing how to speak or scream.
"Do. Not. Ever. Lay. Your. Hands. On. Her. Again!" He hissed punctuating every word with a bloody punch.
She got sick to her stomach and just when she felt the urge to throw up, he straightened from his hunched position and snapped his head towards her direction.
"Bundle her up this instant." He bellowed.
Her eyes widened.
What were the cannibals about to do to her in the middle of a strange city!?
"Gladly." The lady from earlier responded with a bow.
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9.6
Areli was the hardest-working medic in the Blackridge Clan, but her efforts only earned her the title of a useless burden.
Her supposed lover, Eugene, and her senior mentor, Gloria, lured her to the edge of the deadly Blackwind Cliff and shoved her straight into the abyss.
She miraculously survived the freefall, only to return and find Gloria standing before the entire clan, wearing a mask of fake sorrow.
"Look! The traitor is back! She eloped with wild males!" Gloria shrieked.
Eugene stepped up, looking heartbroken, and publicly accused her of betraying his love.
The crowd erupted, raining hisses and boos upon her, completely ignoring the horrific, life-threatening bruises that covered her battered body.
They blindly believed the lies, treating her like garbage while Gloria secretly plotted to poison her water and destroy her completely.
Areli felt a chilling sense of betrayal. How could the man who claimed to love her watch her fall with such cold eyes?
To make matters worse, her modern biochemist instincts revealed a terrifying truth: she was unexpectedly pregnant with the child of a savage Warlord she had encountered in the wild.
In this brutal, primitive world, showing any weakness was an absolute death sentence.
But she wasn't going to cower or run away.
Refusing the Warlord's offer to simply rescue her, Areli calmly placed a highly toxic herb on her drying rack and left her tent flap open.
The bait was set. Now, she just had to wait for the screams.
9.5
Alina was the eldest daughter of the prestigious Padilla family, but everyone mocked her as a defective dud who couldn't cast a single spell.
The moment she woke up, her father and younger sister Karina barged into her room, demanding she sign a transfer agreement to the Aethelgard Order-the most brutal faction on the continent.
It wasn't just a transfer; it was a legal disownment. In her past life, Alina didn't realize Karina was also reborn. She had dropped to her knees and begged to stay. Her reward? Her magic was violently drained from her veins by her own family. Her fiancé drove a blade through her chest, and her sister stood over her bleeding body, smiling. She had ruined her hands making potions for them, only to be discarded like trash.
The phantom pain of her chest being ripped open still burned behind her ribs. Looking at the hypocritical family waiting for her tears, she felt nothing but exhausting disgust. Why should she ever be their stepping stone again?
"For the honor of the family, you leave today."
Her father sneered as she calmly bit her thumb and pressed her bloody fingerprint onto the contract. This time, Alina didn't cry. She packed a single bag and walked out the door, heading straight for the deadly Aethelgard Order to show them what a true monster looked like.
7.8
The moment I saw my husband massaging his dead brother's pregnant mistress's feet, I knew my marriage was over.
He moved her into our home under the guise of "family duty," forcing me to watch as he prioritized her comfort over our vows.
The final betrayal came when she stole and deliberately broke my mother's priceless necklace.
When I slapped her for the desecration, my husband struck me across the face to defend her.
He had violated a sacred honor code by putting his hands on the daughter of another Don-an act of war.
I looked him in the eye and swore on my mother's grave that I would bring a bloody revenge upon his entire family.
Then I made one phone call to my father, and the demolition of his empire began.
9.6
My world revolved around Jax Harding, my older brother's captivating rockstar friend.
From sixteen, I adored him; at eighteen, I clung to his casual promise: "When you're 22, maybe I'll settle down."
That offhand comment became my life's beacon, guiding every choice, meticulously planning my twenty-second birthday as our destiny.
But on that pivotal day in a Lower East Side bar, clutching my gift, my dream exploded.
I overheard Jax' s cold voice: "Can't believe Savvy's showing up. She' s still hung up on that stupid thing I said."
Then the crushing plot: "We' re gonna tell Savvy I' m engaged to Chloe, maybe even hint she' s pregnant. That should scare her off."
My gift, my future, slipped from my numb fingers.
I fled into the cold New York rain, devastated by betrayal.
Later, Jax introduced Chloe as his "fiancée" while his bandmates mocked my "adorable crush"-he did nothing.
As an art installation fell, he saved Chloe, abandoning me to severe injury.
In the hospital, he came for "damage control," then shockingly shoved me into a fountain, leaving me to bleed, calling me a "jealous psycho."
How could the man I loved, who once saved me, become this cruel and publicly humiliate me?
Why was my devotion seen as an annoyance to be brutally extinguished with lies and assault?
Was I just a problem, my loyalty met with hatred?
I would not be his victim.
Injured and betrayed, I made an unshakeable vow: I was done.
I blocked his number and everyone connected to him, severing ties.
This was not an escape; this was my rebirth.
Florence awaited, a new life on my terms, unburdened by broken promises.
9.0
Once a pampered princess, Alaina now clutched a deactivated American Express card, staring out at Central Park. Her family’s fortune was gone, her life, over.
Her family's Hamptons estate, a four-generation legacy, was seized by Dyer Capital. The name hit her: Hardin Dyer, the poor boy she’d once scorned, had returned.
Hardin marched in, serving a divorce agreement. He'd orchestrated her family's downfall for revenge, giving her 24 hours to vacate his property. Penniless, her father faced prison, needing $50 million. Her mother forced her to beg Hardin, who sneered, offering the money for her body. Alaina ripped up the contract.
Hours later, her father had a heart attack. Desperate, she became "Lexi," a club girl enduring humiliation. In the Viper Room, Hardin's lackeys demanded she lick whiskey off his shoe for $10,000. Hardin watched. Outside, her brother Ashton's hand was threatened for a $3 million debt. Spirit shattered, Alaina returned, knelt on broken glass, offering to sign. But Hardin declared her family "dead," offering $10 million for her body, commanding her to use her mouth.
In a furious act of defiance, Alaina threw whiskey in his face, snatched the check, and fled. Yet, when he finally took her, a searing, foreign pain and blood on the sheets revealed a shocking truth: he had never touched her three years ago. Why had he let her believe such a monstrous lie?
7.6
I was the Chicago Outfit's princess, and Luca and Matteo were my sworn protectors. We had mixed our blood at ten years old, promising that nothing would ever touch me.
But that oath turned to ash the night Sofia Ricci aimed a Roman candle at my chest.
The firework slammed into my shoulder, igniting my silk dress instantly. As I rolled on the concrete, screaming while the flames ate into my skin, I waited for my boys to save me.
They didn't.
Instead, I watched through the smoke as they rushed to Sofia. They wrapped their jackets—the ones meant to shield me—around the girl who had just set me on fire, comforting her because the "kickback" had scared her.
They let me burn to keep her warm.
When I woke up in the hospital with permanent scars, they brought me a letter of apology from her and defended her "accident." They even cut their palms to pay her debt, ignoring the fact that I was the one in bandages.
That was the moment Elena Vitiello died.
I didn't scream. I didn't beg. I simply packed my bags and defected to the one place they couldn't follow: the arms of Dante Moretti, the lethal Capo of New York.
By the time they realized their mistake and came crawling back to beg in the rain, I was already wearing another man's ring.
"You want forgiveness?" I asked, looking down at them.
"Burn for it."