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The Rejected White Wolf and Her Lycan King Novel Cover

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 6

Harper POV:

The game of house continued. Bennet played the benevolent jailer, Gianna played the repentant servant.

That evening, Bennet brought me herbal tea. It smelled of chamomile and acrid chemicals.

"Drink this," he said. "Helps with the nightmares."

"Thank you."

He watched me lift the mug. His phone buzzed. Annoyance flickered in his eyes.

"I have to take this. Drink it all."

He walked out.

I immediately poured the tea into the potted fern. The soil hissed. Sedative.

I lay back, feigning sleep. Bennet returned, waved a hand in my face, and muttered, "Good."

He went to the balcony. I heard the lock click.

I crept to the wall. The night air carried sounds that made my stomach churn.

"Is she out?" Gianna asked.

"Like a light," Bennet growled. "Take that uniform off."

I stood there, listening to my husband rutting with the woman who maimed me. A year ago, this would have destroyed me. Now? I felt nothing but cold calculation.

The next morning, the charade resumed.

Gianna barged in with a breakfast tray. "Rise and shine, cripple." She dropped the tray. Coffee sloshed over the rim.

"Good morning, Gianna."

She sneered. "Look at you. Can't Shift. Can't please him. You're just a leech." She flicked my gloved prosthetic.

The front door slammed. Bennet was home early.

Gianna threw herself to the floor, knocking the tray over.

"Ahhh! Luna, please!" she screamed, fake tears instant. "I'm sorry the coffee was cold! Don't hit me!"

Bennet burst in. He saw Gianna cowering, me sitting in bed.

"What is this?" he roared.

"She... she threw the tray!" Gianna sobbed.

Bennet looked at me. For a second, violence flashed in his eyes. Then he turned to Gianna.

"Silence!"

The Alpha Voice slammed into the room. Gianna choked, freezing in place.

"Get out," Bennet growled. "You're embarrassing me."

Gianna fled, looking genuinely terrified.

Bennet sighed, sitting on the bed. "She's difficult, but we need the help until the paperwork is signed. Come. Let's go for a drive."

We took the SUV. He parked near a clearing to meet a Beta. He left his phone in the console.

It lit up. Text from Gianna: Why did you use the Voice on me?! You hurt me!

Then, an audio message synced from his earpiece. I pressed play, volume low.

"Stop whining, Gianna," Bennet's recorded voice said. "It was a show. Harper needs to believe I'm on her side or she won't sign the trust transfer. We need that money. Once the funds clear on her birthday, we move her to the asylum. Then you can be Luna."

I stopped the playback.

He wasn't going to kill me. He was going to erase me. Lock me in a padded room, drugged out of my mind, while he spent my family's fortune.

The countdown wasn't five days. It was immediate.

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