The Rejected White Wolf and Her Lycan King
On our third anniversary, I went to the Pack Registry to submit a design portfolio, hoping to surprise my husband.
The clerk looked at me with pity and whispered, "Honey, the system won't let me. Your Mate Bond was severed three years ago."
I stared at the screen in horror. Not only had Alpha Bennet quietly rejected me, but he had also registered a "Companion Contract" with Gianna—my former best friend who had maimed my right hand in an "accident."
I tracked them to the Sacred Lake. Hidden behind a tree, I heard Bennet laugh.
"I love that she's helpless," he told Gianna, pushing her on the swing he built for me. "I love that she can't Shift or draw. It makes me feel like a god."
He wasn't protecting me; he was clipping my wings to keep me in a cage.
When Gianna later framed me as a Rogue intruder, Bennet didn't recognize me in the dark. He whipped me five times with a silver lash, savoring every scream, unaware he was flaying his own wife.
He thought he had broken me. He thought I would die in that basement.
Instead, I severed the bond myself and vanished across the ocean.
One year later, I returned to Paris as a renowned architect with a mechanical arm and the Lycan King by my side.
When Bennet saw me and fell to his knees begging for a second chance, I simply turned my back and revealed the scars he gave me to the cameras.
"You didn't love me, Bennet. You only loved my pain."
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Chapter 5
Harper POV:
I woke to the smell of antiseptic. The Pack Hospital.
My left hand was bandaged. The cuts were deep, but the silver had been neutralized.
"You're awake."
Bennet sat in the chair, looking tired. He reached for my face. I flinched.
He pulled back, looking offended. "Harper, I'm sorry. I reacted on instinct. I had to save the server."
"The server," I rasped. "Gianna."
Bennet's jaw tightened. "She is just staff, Harper. I've already reprimanded her."
Lies.
"I saw you on the table," I said.
"Concussion," he said smoothly. "You hit your head hard, love. You were hallucinating. Just like the phantom pains."
Gaslighting.
"I want to go home."
"Of course. But since you're injured... and clearly unstable... I've hired a live-in nurse."
The door opened.
Gianna walked in. She wore a modest gray uniform, head bowed in fake humility.
"This is Gianna," Bennet said, watching me closely. "She begged for a chance to redeem herself. I thought it would be... therapeutic for you to have someone serve you."
It was a Submission Test.
If I fought, he'd know I still had fire. He'd lock me down harder. If I accepted her, he'd think I was broken.
I looked at Gianna. She lifted her eyes for a split second, flashing a victorious smirk.
I looked at Bennet. His Alpha aura flared, daring me to challenge him.
I slumped my shoulders. I made myself small.
"Okay," I whispered. "Thank you, Alpha."
Bennet smiled—a terrifying, satisfied expression. He kissed my cheek.
"That's my good girl. See? I take care of you."
Gianna curtsied. "I will take excellent care of you, Luna."
The way she said "Luna" sounded like a slur.
I closed my eyes. Let them think I'm dead, I thought. Let them walk over the corpse.
Because in five days, the corpse was walking out the front door.
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8.7
The fluorescent lights hummed overhead as I tied my hair back with practiced precision, preparing for what should have been another routine examination. The seven-year-old boy lay before me on the stainless steel table, his small body telling a story of pain that made my stomach clench despite years of experience. "Measurements confirm blunt force trauma to the abdominal region," I dictated clearly, my voice steady as I documented the visible bruises mottling his pale skin. "Contusions are consistent with repeated impact against a hard surface."
My assistant nodded, camera clicking as he captured the evidence. "Dr. Martinez, should I note the pattern of bruising on the lower extremities?"
"Good catch," I murmured, adjusting my gloves. "The linear patterns suggest a thin, rigid object—possibly a ruler or similar implement."
I worked methodically, my hands steady as I examined each injury with the care these victims deserved. The boy had been starved, beaten, and ultimately killed by someone who should have protected him. My job was to give voice to his suffering, to ensure justice through the evidence we uncovered. "The internal examination will confirm our suspicions about the cause of death," I explained to my assistant, who had been with me long enough to understand the protocols.
7.7
The bomb strapped to my chest had less than a minute on the timer.
I called my husband, begging him to save me.
"Kevin, please. This is real. I'm going to die."
But Kevin just sighed, his voice dripping with annoyance.
"Stop the drama, Michelle. Violet is having a panic attack because her cat is stuck in a tree. I don't have time for your jealousy games."
He hung up.
Moments later, the warehouse exploded, and I was gone.
But I didn't cross over. My spirit was tethered to Kevin, an invisible spectator to his life.
I watched him roll his eyes at my mother’s frantic calls.
I watched him perform the autopsy on my charred body, convinced I was actually hiding in a hotel to punish him.
It wasn't until he returned to the blast site and found my wedding ring in the ash that he finally broke.
He fell to his knees, screaming my name.
I thought his remorse would free me.
But then he discovered the truth: Violet had orchestrated my murder.
He cornered her, his grief mutating into a violent, obsidian hatred.
I tried to drift away, but the invisible chain binding me to him suddenly tightened, crushing my soul.
I realized with absolute horror that the truth hadn't set me free.
His hatred was an anchor, heavier than his love ever was.
I wasn't just a ghost anymore.
I was his haunting, and I was never leaving.
9.6
Aiden Madden, Alpha of Blackwood, intended to reject his arranged mate, Emery Travis, whom he deemed "loose" from scandalous photos. But her scent hit him like a physical blow-his Fated Mate. Then, he watched in horror as another man intimately touched her, confirming his worst fears of betrayal and igniting a blinding rage.
Consumed by fury, Aiden rejected her via a cold text, leaving her humiliated. Unaware her new boss was this same man, Emery endured harassment and an attack at Blackwood Corp.
The rejection tore Emery's soul. Her father questioned her honor, and her tyrannical boss forced her to arrange his new lover's seating. Yet, she saw impossible pain in his eyes.
Broken yet defiant, Emery fought back, uncovering lies meant to destroy her. Aiden, witnessing her resilience, slowly realized the horrifying truth: the woman he condemned was his true Fated Mate, and he had made the biggest mistake of his life.
9.3
"She's mine tonight, asshole, you had her last week." Zack, taller and broader, with those piercing blue eyes, shoved him back hard. "Fuck off, Zade. Her tight little pussy belongs wrapped around my dick." And then there was Mark, my stepdad, looming in the doorway like a goddamn predator, his arms crossed over his broad chest. "Both of you back the fuck off. I'm the man of the house and that sweet ass is mine to pound whenever I want."
❤️❤️❤️
Dive into this sizzling erotica collection of taboo tropes where forbidden flames erupt in shadows of power and secrecy. Stepfamily sparks fly between a seductive step sis and stepbrothers under one tense roof. Mythical beasts knot with innocent human girls in primal forest trysts. A mafia kingpin claims a pure-hearted nun in a ruthless game of dominance. Captor hunts prey in a thrilling chase of possession. "Dad's Best Friend" awakens cravings in his ally's daughter, shattering loyalty. "Boss x Stripper" ignites when an executive ensnares his hypnotic dancer in high-stakes control. "Professor X Student," where forbidden mentorship spirals into obsessive bonds in lecture halls after dark. "Coach x Cheerleader," rigorous drills turn into steamy locker room rituals after hours. "Priest x Parishioner," sacred confessions unravel into sinful midnight vows.
Read if you're ready for some heat.
7.6
Cora thought she was the luckiest woman alive, married to a devoted tech billionaire who showered her with custom haute couture and obsessive care.
But his "protection" involved locking her inside their San Francisco estate, forcing her to swallow foul neon-green supplements, and drawing her blood with highly classified veterinary needles.
She thought it was just his extreme paranoia, until a cynical doctor cornered her at a charity gala.
"Kendrick isn't raising a wife. He's curating a very rare, very fragile medical specimen. You're his personal pharmacy."
Terrified, Cora broke into Kendrick's hidden safe and found a medical report approving her total bone marrow and stem cell depletion.
Kendrick wasn't a doting husband. He was raising her as a human bloodbag to save his terminally ill cousin.
When she nearly uncovered the truth, Kendrick cried fake tears, claiming he only needed her antibodies.
"Tomorrow, we are going to my private island in the Caribbean. Just the two of us. No internet. No guards. Just peace."
Cora almost believed his vulnerable act, deeply confused by how a man who kissed her so tenderly could plan to slaughter her in cold blood.
Then, while packing for the trip, she dropped a wooden box, revealing a hidden flight manifesto.
Kendrick's return date was listed. Hers was completely blank.
Stapled to the back was a clinical schedule: Intensive Marrow Harvesting - Final Stage. Patient will not require return transport.
Hearing his heavy footsteps echoing in the hallway, Cora gripped the sharp edges of the broken box.
She was not going to be a slaughtered lamb on that island.
7.7
During a college retreat, we hosted a storytelling competition.
They just kept egging me on, completely oblivious to the terrifying disaster it would invite.
I said, "The story I'm about to tell is a curse."
"Everyone who has ever heard this story has died."
"Are you sure you want to hear it?"