The White Wolf's Secret: His Unexpected Luna
I am only three years old, but I have the ancient soul of a Seer and the monstrous strength of a warrior.
When my caretaker died, he gave me a blood-pact stone and told me to find my new guardian, Ryker Blackwood.
I crossed the dangerous forest alone. I even slaughtered three massive rogues with a silver dagger and healed a dying noblewoman along the way.
But when I finally tracked Ryker down in the pack market, he wasn't the strong protector I was promised.
He was a disgraced outcast, kneeling in the dirt, bound with burning wolfsbane ropes.
The pack's cruel enforcer was raising a silver whip to sever his leg for unpaid debts, while the entire crowd jeered and called him useless trash.
He was utterly broken, penniless, and couldn't even defend himself, let alone protect a child.
Silas had sworn Ryker was a good man. How could this pathetic, hated pariah be my destined guardian?
Yet, seeing them humiliate Silas's only friend ignited a cold fury in my ancient wolf.
I stepped out from the crowd, a tiny silver-haired pup facing down the pack's most feared enforcer.
"Stop. You are not worthy to punish him."
I exposed her darkest secret to the whole market, shattered Ryker's chains, and decided to save this broken man—even if my kraken-like appetite meant he'd have to hunt monsters just to afford my dinner.
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Chapter 4
Lyra's POV:
The flicker of life that had returned to Elara's face vanished. Her skin went pale again. "Soul... rotting?" she whispered, her voice trembling. "What does that mean?"
Faye and Cody looked completely lost. It was a term they had never heard. In the back of the crowd, an older werewolf gasped, his eyes wide as if he was remembering some dark, forgotten legend.
I extended a small finger and pointed to the center of her chest. "Here. There is a sliver of black energy. It is eating your life force. It is the foul breath of a Rogue."
At the word "Rogue," the faces of the guards hardened. The car crash was no accident. It was an ambush. Rogues, the fallen and corrupt, were known to use dark magics that left cursed wounds no normal Healer could mend.
Fear flooded Elara's eyes, followed by raw desperation. "Can you... can you save me? Please." All her noble pride was gone, replaced by the simple, primal need to live.
I looked at her calmly. "A full cleansing takes time. I have other duties to attend to."
Elara's face fell. Faye rushed to speak. "Whatever you want, the House of Vance and the Crestwood Pack will provide! Gold, power, land—anything!"
I shook my head. Those things meant nothing to me.
"I can give you a mark," I said, my gaze steady on Elara. "It will hold back the darkness for three moons."
Elara nodded without hesitation. "Yes! But where do I find you after? Please, tell me where to go."
I was quiet for a moment. My vision was already beginning to blur at the edges. The healing had drained me more than I wanted to show.
"When the time comes, you will find me," I said. "That is all I can give you."
It was not an answer. Elara opened her mouth to press further, but I was already moving.
I raised my index finger, and a bead of silver light gathered at its tip. In the air just above her chest, I drew a complex, glowing sigil of the crescent moon.
The rune solidified, radiating a holy light that pushed back the shadows and the lingering scent of death.
With a gentle push of my hand, the glowing mark sank into Elara's chest and vanished.
A warm, pure energy flooded her body. She gasped as the feeling of being gnawed on from the inside instantly disappeared. She felt better than she had in years, stronger and cleaner.
The effort left me feeling drained, my small face paler than before. A wave of exhaustion rolled over me. I had spent too much today. I needed food. I needed rest. My thoughts were growing sluggish, a fog settling over my mind.
I stood up to leave.
Faye scrambled to her feet, pulling a heavy pouch of gold coins from her belt. "Little... Little Mistress, please, take this for your trouble..."
I walked past her without a glance.
I went to my backpack and swung it onto my shoulders with ease.
Cody, the big guard, stepped forward out of instinct, wanting to help me with the seemingly heavy load. He reached out to lift it for me.
The moment his hand touched the strap, his face contorted in shock. It was like trying to lift a boulder. He grunted, putting all of his warrior's strength into it, but the bag didn't even move an inch.
He stared at me, dumbfounded, as I stood there with it on my back as if it were filled with feathers.
I ignored his astonishment and walked away, my small form quickly swallowed by the shadows of the forest.
Left behind on the road was a crowd of shell-shocked werewolves and a noblewoman who had been given a second chance at life, but whose fate still hung by a thread.
Elara clutched her chest, feeling the warm power of the sigil. She turned to Cody and Faye, her voice raw with frustration and hope.
"She didn't tell me where to find her. She gave me nothing."
Faye's face paled. "My lady... then how will we—"
"We have three months," Elara cut her off, her voice hardening into steel. "Use every resource we have. Send word to Gideon. I don't care what it costs. Find that child before the three moons are up. We will find her."
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7.4
Four years ago, to protect the man I loved from losing his billionaire empire, I drugged his drink, told him I only used him for his money, and vanished.
Now, at a high-society gala, Callum Wyatt is back. He isn't just a CEO anymore; he's a ruthless predator, and the second his eyes lock onto me, I know I am his prey.
When my wealthy half-sister publicly humiliated me, calling me the cheap bastard child of a homewrecker, Callum stepped out of the shadows. He nearly snapped her wrist in half and declared to New York's elite that anyone who touched me would be dismantled.
In the back of his Maybach, he pinned my arms above my head, his eyes burning with psychotic obsession.
"If you run again, Aubrey, I will burn your entire world to the ground just to keep you."
My heart bled. I had spent four grueling years tearing myself apart to keep him out of my messy, blood-soaked revenge against the family that watched my mother die.
But his terrifying protection only made my biological father's family target me harder, using their massive capital to buy out my movie set and crush my acting career.
They thought I would cower.
But as I walked onto the soundstage, facing the heiress trying to steal my role, I took off my sunglasses. I wasn't running anymore; it was time to make them pay.
7.8
My abusive ex was threatening a lawsuit that would destroy my father's career and wipe out my PhD. I was completely out of options.
That night, Graham, the boy from next door I hadn't seen in a decade, showed up at my apartment in the middle of a hurricane. Now a wealthy orthopedic surgeon, he offered a transactional marriage: he needed a local wife to keep his family away while he cared for his sick mother, and in return, he would make my ex disappear.
I thought it was a simple deal. But the morning after we signed the marriage license, Graham didn't just scare my ex off—he ruthlessly dismantled him. Then, Graham turned to me. His eyes were dead as he pulled out his phone, showing me a high-resolution photo of the night I illegally sold lab samples to pay off my ex's initial blackmail. He had hired a private investigator to stalk me. If that photo leaked to the FDA, I wouldn't just lose my degree; I'd go to prison.
"I needed a guarantee," he said flatly.
I was shaking with rage and terror. This wasn't a rescue. It was a hostage situation. Why did he hunt me down? Why use my darkest secret to trap me in this twisted marriage?
I couldn't live like this. I demanded an immediate divorce. But at the courthouse, the clerk dropped a bomb on us: state law required a mandatory thirty-day waiting period. Thirty days trapped with a ruthless, manipulative stranger. I had to find a way to break his leverage before the month was up.
7.4
In a city where data is power and truth is a weapon, some secrets are worth killing for.
Mara Quinn is a ghost in the system, an underground journalist known only as Cipher, feared by corporations and hunted by those with everything to lose. When she breaches a classified network inside Axiom Industries, she uncovers something no one was meant to see: ORACLE, a predictive AI capable of shaping human behavior on a global scale.
She expects retaliation. She doesn't expect Kael Draven.
Cold, brilliant, and untouchable, Kael is the architect behind Axiom's empire, and a man who doesn't make threats he can't execute. Instead of silencing Mara, he offers her a choice: work under his watch, or disappear from existence entirely. Trapped inside his glass fortress known as The Spire, Mara is pulled deeper into a world of surveillance, manipulation, and power plays that stretch far beyond anything she imagined.
But ORACLE isn't just a tool, it's already been used. Governments have fallen. Empires have shifted. And someone else is pulling the strings.
As a rival syndicate closes in and a hidden war erupts across the city, Mara and Kael are forced into an uneasy alliance, one built on intellect, suspicion, and a dangerous, undeniable pull neither of them can ignore.
Because in a world where every move is predicted...
the only thing more dangerous than control is feeling.
And the system is already watching.
7.2
Allie Patterson poured fifteen years into her husband Grayson’s tech startup, living in a cramped San Jose apartment. Every penny, every late night coding session, was for their shared future, built on his constant claims the company struggled, always on the verge of its big break.
Then, a grant deed arrived: a stunning $4.2 million Atherton villa, paid in full, listing Grayson and an unknown Kacey Schmidt as joint tenants.
Her coffee mug shattered as Allie’s world imploded. Driving to the mansion, she found Kacey in silk pajamas, flaunting a massive pink diamond and, beneath it, Grayson’s grandmother’s heirloom ring – the one he’d tearfully claimed to have lost years ago.
Kacey purred, "He's in the shower. We were so tired last night."
The words were a serrated knife, twisting, confirming years of lies.
Humiliation and rage burned out, leaving a terrifying, absolute silence. All her sacrifice and trust were a cruel, elaborate joke, orchestrated by the man she loved.
Allie calmly took photos, then gave herself one minute in her beat-up car to mourn. When it passed, her tears stopped, replaced by cold, calculated murder in her eyes. She typed a text to Grayson:
"Come home early tonight. I have a surprise for you."
9.6
When a global anomaly awakens dormant powers within them, a neuroscientist, a physicist, and an artist discover they are connected by a force that defies time itself. Mert sees the memories of strangers. Elena witnesses the fabric of reality crack. Kai paints symbols from a past he never knew. Thrown together by fate, they are not alone. Across the globe, others are awakening too-gifted with extraordinary abilities. But they are not the only ones. A powerful cabal-a ruthless financier, a tech mogul, and a charismatic influencer-sees the anomaly not as a warning, but as a weapon. Their ambition shatters the timeline, scattering the group across history: from the smog-choked streets of Victorian London to a transhumanist future, and into a terrifying parallel present. Broken into three teams, the group must hunt their enemies through time itself. To survive, they must master their new powers and forge bonds of love and loyalty strong enough to bend the laws of physics. Their final battle will not be fought in any single era, but at the crossroads of all realities, where the key to existence-the very heart of time-is at stake.
9.1
The heavy oak doors of the Crane estate splintered under the battering ram. Annetta was just putting her five-year-old daughter to sleep when the SWAT team stormed the nursery.
They told her that her husband, Major Alek Crane, was killed in action overseas. But instead of a hero's funeral, he was branded a national traitor, and the feds were seizing every penny of their wealth.
Lead investigator Issac Rocha dragged Alek's charred remains into the grand hall just to mock him. He stripped Annetta of her wedding band, confiscated her winter coat, and officially exiled her, her daughter, and her hostile mother-in-law to a freezing Appalachian death zone. In the federal holding cell, the extended family turned on Annetta, calling her a cheap commoner and leaving her to shiver on the concrete floor. They were dumped in an abandoned mining town with nothing but canvas jumpsuits to die in the snow.
Annetta knew Alek was framed in a ruthless political hit. Issac Rocha wanted them to rot in the mud and freeze to death, completely forgotten by the world.
"We are going to live, and we are going to burn Issac Rocha to the ground."
But Issac made one fatal mistake. He didn't know the quiet, submissive daughter-in-law had spent the last three years secretly building a military-grade doomsday bunker right in the heart of that very mountain. Stepping past the freezing mud, Annetta initiated the biometric scan, and the massive steel blast doors slowly swung open.