Unwanted By The Alpha: The Secret Royal Princess
I woke up in agony after saving my husband from an explosion, only to find him standing over my hospital bed with a death sentence.
Alpha Julius didn't care that I was bleeding internally. He only cared that his new "Fated Mate," Kenzie, needed a bone marrow transplant.
And I was the match.
When I refused, Julius didn't hesitate. He used the Alpha Command to paralyze my body, forcing me to lie still while doctors drilled into my hip.
He threatened to throw our five-year-old daughter, Ava, to the feral Rogues if I didn't sign over my assets and accept his rejection.
"If you die, the pack will find a use for the girl," he said coldly.
He took my marrow, stole my life's work, and left me for dead in a supply closet, convinced I was just a weak human with no leverage.
He thought he had won. He thought he had stripped me of everything.
But Julius made one fatal mistake. He didn't know who I really was.
As he walked away to celebrate with his mistress, I smashed through the mental barriers I had kept up for a decade.
I reached out across the void to the one man who could burn this pack to ash.
"Father," I screamed silently into the mind-link. "He's killing me."
The Alpha King’s voice thundered back in my skull.
Julius thought he had crushed a human. He had no idea he just woke up the White Wolf.
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Chapter 3
Florence POV:
Three weeks later.
The glass doors of the Carroll Architecture Firm slid open. I walked in, my heels clicking rhythmically against the marble floor. I wore a simple black dress, high-necked and long-sleeved, hiding the healing puncture wound on my hip.
My ID was deactivated, naturally. The receptionist, Betty, looked up and paled.
"Mrs. Car— I mean, Florence. You can't be here."
"I'm just here to pick up my personal sketches, Betty," I lied smoothly. "Unless Julius wants a lawsuit for intellectual property theft on top of everything else?"
"Let her in."
The voice came from the mezzanine. Kenzie stood there, looking radiant. She leaned over the railing, smiling down at me. She looked remarkably healthy for someone who supposedly needed a life-saving transplant weeks ago.
"Let her come up," Kenzie said. "I want to thank her personally."
I took the elevator. When the doors opened, the office fell silent. My former colleagues stared at their screens, terrified to make eye contact.
I walked to my old office. It was already changed. My awards were in a trash bin. The walls were painted a garish pink. And Kenzie was sitting in my chair.
Julius stood by the window.
"You look terrible," Julius said without looking up.
"And you look incompetent," I replied.
The room gasped.
Julius turned slowly. "Careful, Florence."
I pointed at the blueprints on the desk. "That's the Lunar Temple project. You've placed the load-bearing pillars on a ley line. The magical interference will collapse the atrium within six months."
Kenzie laughed. "Listen to the human trying to teach us pack magic. I redesigned it. My intuition told me the flow was better this way."
"Your intuition is going to kill people," I said flatly.
"Enough!" Julius slammed his hand on the desk. "Get out. You have your sketches. Leave."
Kenzie stood up and walked around the desk. She stopped in front of me, invading my personal space.
"You know, Florence, you really are pathetic," she whispered. "You couldn't keep your man, you couldn't keep your house. You're just... empty."
She raised her hand and slapped me.
The sound cracked like a whip.
My head snapped to the side. My Inner Wolf didn't just growl; she roared against the cage of my mind. Kill her. Paint the walls with her.
I slowly turned my head back. I tasted copper.
"Do you feel better?" I asked softly.
Kenzie smirked. "Much."
I looked at Julius. He was watching, arms crossed. He approved of this.
"Get out," Julius said.
I nodded. "Gladly."
I walked to the elevator. As the doors closed, I let a small, cold smile play on my lips.
They thought they had humiliated me. They didn't know that while Kenzie was posturing, my phone had been cloning the localized server.
I had just downloaded ten years of financial records, illegal trade deals, and the original blueprints.
And before I left my office, I had dropped a small, silver USB drive behind the server rack.
The Trojan Horse was in the city.
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8.4
Palermo does not forgive.
Neither does it forget.
When Guerrero Valenti, the feared leader of the Vikings, vanished, the city exhaled a dangerous calm-but only for a moment. In the shadows, enemies waited. Rivals sharpened their knives. And one woman bore a secret that could ignite every street in the city.
Lucia Romano carried the child of a man who had disappeared into legend and rumor. A son who had not been claimed, not protected, not named.
The city whispered of him with venom: the bastard of the Vikings.
The boy was fragile, but he was a storm waiting to erupt. And every night, Palermo tested him. Masked men tried to snatch him from his crib. Fire, steel, and blood became his lullabies. Yet he survived. Every threat only sharpened his instincts, every scream hardened his mother's resolve.
But whispers spread faster than steel through the night-rumors of a man returning. A shadow that would claim everything, sparking fear in every heart:
Guerrero Valenti.
The father who abandoned him.
The legend whose name alone commands obedience.
The storm that will rise, carrying vengeance, blood, and fire.
And when he comes,
Every man who dared call the bastard his enemy will fall.
Every street, every roof, every whispered corner will bow to the son of Guerrero Valenti or be washed in blood.
This is the story of survival.
Of fire and steel.
Of a mother and her son.
Of a father's return.
Even the earth is getting ready to absorb blood ... the blood of those who call the legitimate son of the Vikings a "BASTARD", and collect necks........the necks of those fallen by the sword of GUERRERO VALANTI.
And upon his return Heads will bow to the one they called a BASTARD .
7.3
Clara came home from a fourteen-hour board meeting to the sound of a piercing scream in the playroom.
When she rushed in, she found her husband, Chadwick, kneeling on the floor in a panic.
But he wasn't looking at their five-year-old son, Leo, who had a massive bleeding welt on his forehead.
Instead, Chadwick was trembling as he held the nanny's daughter, Autumn, who barely had a microscopic scratch.
"She needs ice. And antibacterial ointment," Chadwick snapped, carrying the nanny's daughter away and leaving his bleeding son behind.
From that moment, the nightmare only escalated.
Chadwick ordered Clara to cook a three-hour meal for the nanny's kid, threw away Leo's favorite toys because Autumn sneezed, and even secretly took the nanny and her daughter on Leo's promised Disney trip.
The final humiliation came at the Met Gala.
Right before their sponsor speech, Chadwick received a frantic call from the nanny claiming Autumn was having a panic attack.
He abandoned Clara in front of hundreds of flashing cameras, sprinting out of the ballroom.
Clara stood completely alone, the humiliation eating through her veins like acid.
She couldn't understand how a father could call the nanny's kid his "little princess" while watching his own son cry.
Why was he treating his own flesh and blood like garbage just to play savior to another woman's child?
Suddenly, the blinding camera flashes were blocked by a massive shadow.
Erasmo Chase, the heir to New York's largest financial dynasty, stepped out of the darkness and shielded her.
"A man like that is unworthy of your grief, Ms. Best," he whispered, pressing a silk handkerchief into her trembling hand.
Looking at the sharp profile of the powerful man beside her, Clara's shock hardened into a lethal, cold fury.
She was going to dump her family's shares, crash the board, and make Chadwick lose absolutely everything.
8.3
In my previous life, I poured my family's savings into Diego Torres. He was a scholarship student I mistook for a tech prodigy, and I helped him become a billionaire.
His way of thanking me was conspiring with his first love, Kiana, to kill me in an explosion.
My mistake cost me everything.
But when I opened my eyes again, I found myself back in the campus cafe, years before my murder. There was still time to fix every mistake.
Diego sat across from me, demanding a thirty-thousand-dollar monthly allowance for Kiana, or else he would refuse my funding.
In that instant, I knew he had been reborn too.
8.8
I was the wolfless, arranged mate to Alpha Kain of the Blackwood Pack. The positive pregnancy test in my hand was a miracle, the only hope I had left to salvage our freezing marriage.
But when I went to share the wonderful news, he coldly slid a *Dissolution of Union Agreement* across the table. His ex-girlfriend, Galilea, the "true Luna," had returned.
Overnight, my world was destroyed. Kain paraded her around the pack, suffocating me with her scent, and forced me to hand over my hard-earned career campaigns to her as a welcome gift. My packmates mocked my wolfless existence, even twisting my father's heroic death into a cheap transaction. But the most devastating blow came when I tentatively asked Kain what he would do if we had a child.
"I would not allow a pup born from a bond I intend to sever to see the light of day."
He would kill his own flesh and blood just to wipe the slate clean for her. The sacred mate-bond designed by the Moon Goddess meant absolutely nothing to him but a disposable debt. I was paralyzed by the injustice, terrified for the tiny, condemned life growing inside my womb.
Staring at the man who was supposed to be my soul's other half, my bleeding heart finally turned to cold ash. I swallowed my secret, walked into his office, and calmly asked when the rejection would be finalized. I needed to run.
7.8
Rosalind Rivers has only ever wanted one thing - revenge.
The Lycan Prince, Aklan Draven, murdered her brother in cold blood. Or so she's believed her whole life. Now, forced to serve under him at the Lycan Academy, she has no choice but to obey the man she swore to hate. But hating him becomes harder with every clash, every stolen glance, every heartbeat that refuses to stay loyal to her rage.
Because fate has a cruel sense of humor.
He's her fated mate.
Aklan doesn't understand why this stubborn, sharp-tongued wolf gets under his skin or why her scent feels like home. He only knows she's trouble. The kind that tests his control, drags buried memories to the surface, and makes him question everything he thought he knew about loyalty and guilt.
But when a hidden truth comes to light - that Rosalind's brother didn't die by Aklan's hand but by choice, their world begins to unravel. Old wounds reopen. Ancient forces stir. And Rosalind learns she is no ordinary wolf, but something far rarer, something worth killing for.
Between vengeance and love, duty and destiny, one wrong move could ignite a war between realms.
And the cruelest part?
She might just lose her heart to the man she was born to destroy.
8.3
Rexxona always believed she was a werewolf-an ordinary she-wolf with dreams of finding her mate and her place in the pack. But everything changes when she discovers she's not what she thought she was. Overnight, Rexxona is thrust into a new reality, learning she is a rare mythical creature whose powers remain a mystery.
Before she can even begin to understand her true identity, she meets her destined mate-the Alpha of a powerful pack. But instead of acceptance, Rexxona faces rejection.
A mate's rejection can shatter a she-wolf's spirit, but Rex defies the odds, fleeing with a strength and resilience no one expects. Now, with her ex-mate's pack hunting her down, Rexxona must uncover her powers and find out who-or what-she truly is before her past catches up to her.