Burch Minow

My sister ran away on her wedding day, so my uncle forced me, a lowly Omega, into her dress to marry the ruthless Alpha Kaelen. The moment we met, the intense bond revealed we were fated mates, but he was utterly disgusted by my weak status and rival bloodline. He forced me to my knees in front of his entire pack, declaring I would only be a despised prisoner, never his Luna. He locked me in a freezing room, almost claimed me during my heat, but violently pushed me away like I was a disease. Later, a jealous rival framed me for treason using stolen maps and my blood. Without a single investigation, Kaelen publicly severed our fated mate bond, causing me to cough up blood as my soul shattered. "Throw her out." He gave the order coldly, letting assassins hunt me down in the freezing rain. As the assassins' jaws snapped at me, a protective warmth flared in my womb, and I realized I was pregnant with his child. I didn't understand how he could be so blindly cruel to his other half, but the sheer injustice and maternal desperation ignited a dormant power in my veins. I didn't die in that forest, but awakened as the legendary, extinct White Wolf. Five years later, his estate was breached by enemies, and he was on the brink of death. I returned not as his pathetic mate, but as the ruthless mercenary commander he just hired to save his life. Looking at me and the five-year-old boy beside me, Kaelen finally fell to his knees in the mud.

On my tenth wedding anniversary, I found my celebrity therapist husband naked with our housekeeper. He called it "somatic therapy." I was pregnant with our miracle baby and secretly battling a brain tumor. But when his lover faked a fall and a miscarriage, framing me for it, he chose her. The fall caused me to lose my actual baby. As I lay bleeding on the floor, my husband scoffed, "Don't play games, Alexis," and rushed her to the hospital. He then had me committed to a psychiatric facility, publicly painting me as delusional to protect his reputation and his affair. He thought he had gotten rid of me forever. But he didn't know my sister would break me out. He didn't know I would fake my own death to escape. Now, I'm back. And I'm about to teach the good doctor a lesson in consequences.

Three years after being rejected for having "no wolf," I returned to my old pack's territory. I wasn't the pathetic human girl anymore; I was the Luna of the Supreme Alpha. But to test them, I wore plain grey clothes and blocked my scent. My ex-mate, August, took the bait instantly. He cornered me at the Alpha Summit, mocking my appearance. "We need a nanny to wash diapers," he sneered in front of the dignitaries. "Since you're a starving Rogue, I'll offer you the job. You can sleep in the servants' quarters." When I refused, he turned his venom on my three-year-old son, calling him a "bastard." My son bit him in defense. That was when August’s new mate grabbed a lethal silver knife and lunged at my child. I threw myself in front of the blade. It pierced my shoulder, the silver burning like acid. August laughed, thinking he had just rid the world of a weak human. He didn't know he had just drawn the blood of the legendary White Wolf. The entire hall fell silent as the ground began to shake. My husband, the Supreme Alpha, kicked open the doors, his eyes glowing with murderous intent. He didn't look at the trembling Council. He looked at the knife in my shoulder. "You drew Royal blood," he whispered, the sound terrifyingly low. "Close the doors. No one leaves alive."

After the crash that killed my parents and stole my voice, my childhood friend Josiah swore he would be my voice. For years, I believed him, my silent world revolving around the boy who pulled me from the wreckage. I was even relearning to speak, just for him. Then I overheard the truth. To his friends, I was just the "town tragedy girl," a burden he was tired of carrying. The cruelty didn't stop. He let his new girlfriend publicly humiliate me, and when she faked an injury, he forced me to my knees to apologize in front of everyone. The final betrayal came during a storm. He abandoned me in the woods, deaf without my hearing aids, leaving me to face the same terror that shattered my life years ago. He chose her. He broke his promise. He broke me. So I left. I found my own voice, my own strength. Three years later, I returned for my first art exhibition, and when I saw his face in the crowd, I knew he was about to hear everything he'd forced me to keep silent.

My seven-year marriage to Olivia Hayes, a powerful CEO, seemed perfect from the outside. But then, a single photo on social media shattered everything: my wife, laughing intimately with her much younger personal assistant, Liam Thorne, proudly wearing the platinum cufflink I designed for our fifth anniversary. When I confronted her, Olivia felt no shame, dismissively claiming it was "just a cufflink" and proposing an "open arrangement" where I could find someone else. The humiliation deepened when I went to Hayes Enterprises, the company I helped build, only to be ambushed by Liam. He taunted me, flaunting his new status and claiming my office, before having me assaulted by security while Olivia watched, choosing to protect her lover' s image over mine. My world crumbled as the video of the assault went viral, and Olivia, facing public backlash, demanded I sign over my company shares to Liam as an "apology" for my "unhinged behavior." The sheer audacity and betrayal left me hollow, but I refused to be manipulated. I tore up the share transfer agreement, signed the divorce papers, and walked away from everything, planning to start anew in New York. But Olivia, ever the master manipulator, convinced me to stay for a "truce," only to publicize her affair with Liam at a family gala, where he cruelly tricked me into stepping into hot coffee. The final straw came when Olivia fussed over Liam's fake injury, then dismissed my actual second-degree burn with a casual "Go home and put some toothpaste on it." I drove straight to LAX, bought a one-way ticket to New York, and left everything behind-my marriage, my company, and the toxic remnants of a life that was never truly mine. Little did I know, this agonizing end was just the beginning of reclaiming my true self and finding a love I never thought possible.

The air in the Miller family living room was thick and heavy, like quicksand under my worn-out sneakers. My adoptive brother, Brandon, looked at me with feigned pain, gesturing to expertly forged documents accusing me of selling company secrets. "This is a mistake," I croaked, the first words I' d said in ten minutes. My adoptive father, Richard, rumbled about betrayal and corporate espionage. Sarah, my ex-fiancée, ripped off the ring I'd saved two years for, calling me a "traitor" and a "common thief." Then Chloe, my adoptive sister, held up her phone, live-streaming my humiliation to millions. It was a perfectly orchestrated execution. Brandon whispered, "You were always in the way," before shoving me down, my wrist screaming as I fell. My adopted mother, Eleanor, looked at me with pure revulsion, demanding I be removed. Richard declared me disowned, my shares forfeited. They sentenced me to a "wellness retreat" indefinitely, a "death sentence" they called it. But I smiled. A strange, serene smile. "A wellness retreat?" I asked, my voice steady. "Away from all of this? No work? No family obligations?" I looked Richard straight in the eye. "Thank you," I said, my smile widening. "Honestly. Thank you." The silence in the room was sharp, crackling with their disbelief. "This isn' t a vacation, Alex," he snapped, his composure slipping. "I know," I said. "It' s better. It' s freedom." They thought they were sending me to prison, but they just handed me the key. They thought they were punishing me, but they had no idea they' d just given me the greatest gift of all.

I thought I had New York exactly where I wanted it. As the hidden power behind my half-brother, Caleb, the city's new Don, I pulled all the strings from my penthouse, careful to avoid the chaos that once consumed it. But Caleb' s obsessive love, a sickness I'd nurtured for years, exploded, transforming my gilded cage into a literal one. He kidnapped me, locking me in a lavish fortress to keep me to himself, his madness threatening to burn down the empire I built. Then, a ghost from my past reappeared. Ethan Scott, the man I once loved, returned claiming his rightful place, and with it, me. He orchestrated Caleb's downfall, seizing power under the guise of rescuing me, marrying me to consolidate his reign. Everyone saw a love story, a hero claiming his bride. But kings and heroes were just pawns in my game. What happens when the queen refuses to be a prize? With my wedding gown stained by the blood of the two men who dared to control me, a hidden empire stirred. The city will awaken to a new dawn, under a ruler they never saw coming. Because sometimes, the silent architect is the only one left standing.

I built Liam Carter's political career from nothing, forging him into a powerful Senate candidate. Our engagement gala, a critical fundraiser, was set to crown us as D.C.'s ultimate power couple. But on that perfect night, the doorbell rang. It wasn't the catering staff; it was Brianna, a junior aide, clutches her very pregnant stomach. "It's Liam's," she whispered. Liam burst in, canceling the gala to manage the "crisis," his eyes colder than ice. He ordered me to stay silent, to protect his career, then swiftly blacklisted me from every connection I had built. Even my own parents sided with him, more concerned with appearances than my broken heart, dismissing his betrayal as a "man's needs." Isolated and professionally ruined, I watched my carefully constructed life unravel. The final blow: Brianna flaunted my hand-knitted scarf, a symbol of our struggles, now a dog bed for her new puppy. That scarf wasn't just fabric; it was a piece of my soul. Seeing it desecrated ignited a rage so pure and hot, it shattered any remaining pretense of civility. This wasn't just politics or business anymore; this was about my life, my history, everything I held sacred. I called Liam. "I want you to lose," I told him. " I want you to feel what it's like to have everything you've ever worked for turn to ash." With a new alliance by my side, I walked out, ready to reclaim my name, my power, and rewrite my future, no matter the cost.

I worked double shifts, saving every penny, convinced our family was barely making ends meet. My husband, Mark, managed a struggling car dealership, but for Thanksgiving, he booked a table at The Grand Steer. I arrived, envisioning a rare, happy family meal with Emily and him. Instead, Mark was there with our seven-year-old daughter, Emily, and his visibly pregnant high school sweetheart, Jessica. My heart froze as I overheard him casually explain he'd "taken care of" our beloved dog, Buster, because Jessica found him an inconvenience. When I confronted him, Emily, my daughter, shockingly screamed, "I wish Jessica was my mom! You always cared more about that stupid dog than me!" Utterly decimated by their betrayal, I filed for divorce and, in a moment of raw despair, told Mark to take full custody of Emily. Weeks later, a frantic call: Emily was in a severe car accident, needing a critical A-negative blood transfusion. But I'm O-negative, and Mark always claimed O-positive. The doctor's next words chilled me: "O-type parents cannot have an A-type child." The horrifying truth crashed down. My entire motherhood, the difficult IVF, Mark's secret files calling Emily "their legacy"-it was all a lie. She wasn't my child, but Jessica's, a cruel deception orchestrated through an embryo switch. My world exploded, but from the ashes, a cold, unyielding fire of revenge ignited.

Thanksgiving. The smell of roast turkey usually fills me with warmth, but not this year. My seven-year-old daughter, Lily, wasn't at the table. She was supposedly at my sister-in-law Jess' s mother' s house for a spontaneous sleepover with Jess' s son, Kyle - a plan that immediately set my maternal alarms ringing. My husband, Mark, dismissed my concerns, utterly captivated by the pumpkin pie Jess brought. My unease festered, especially after Mark' s tender whisper in his sleep: "Jess… oh, Jess…" The affair was real. Days blurred into anxious searching and growing fear, until a casual phone call Mark took on our landline - a line we barely used anymore - jolted me. He scoffed, "Telemarketers. Trying to sell cemetery plots by saying our kid' s ashes are lost. Sickos." "Ashes." The word hit me like a physical blow. My mother' s intuition roared. I sped to the only crematorium in town. There, I learned the horrifying truth: Lily was brought in by Jess, already dead, cremated. All that remained was her friendship bracelet, a tiny testament to a life brutally cut short. The shock gave way to pure, unadulterated horror when Detective Reynolds came. Brenda, Jess's mother, had confessed. Lily' s ashes were mixed into the Thanksgiving pumpkin pie. We had eaten our daughter. The police, swayed by Mark who called my pleas a "domestic dispute," provided no immediate help, deepening my furious despair. But this unspeakable act ignited a fire within me. Justice, if not served by the law, would be found. I would unravel every thread of Jess' s monstrous plot, including the fate of her son, Kyle. This was no longer just about grief; it was about a mother' s relentless pursuit of truth and vengeance, no matter the cost, to expose the pure evil that had consumed my family.

My life was simple, if not exactly thrilling. An ex-Army Ranger, now a mechanic, living with my CEO wife, Cassie, in a world miles from my own. Then the call came, shattering everything: my mother, an intrepid investigative journalist, brutally murdered, dismembered, her eyes gouged out, her tongue cut. The police couldn't find a lead until security footage revealed the custom-engraved hunting knife – and then, I saw it, advertised for auction by my own wife's company. My wife, Cassie, bought the very weapon for her charismatic executive assistant, Marcus Vance – the man my mother had been investigating. He taunted me with vivid details of her torture, laughing as he had me beaten, then imprisoned in our home' s steel-reinforced panic room, my own wife convinced I was simply 'unstable.' Just when I thought it couldn't get worse, Marcus brought in an urn. My mother' s ashes, he casually explained, would make a 'strong, durable, permanent' foundation for our driveway. The ultimate desecration, a final, horrifying insult that crushed me. How could my life, my family, have fallen to such depravity? But in that moment of absolute despair, something shifted. A Ranger doesn' t break. I escaped, battered and bleeding, making a desperate pilgrimage to Washington D.C. There, at the steps of the Department of Justice, I collapsed, but not before leaving my father' s Medal of Honor and a bloody handprint – a silent, defiant cry for justice against the monsters in my own home.

My Thanksgiving engagement party was supposed to be the start of my perfect life. My fiancé, Ethan, beamed, arm around me, announcing our future to millions of live-stream followers. He presented a shimmering "10-carat" diamond and a suitcase supposedly stuffed with $250,000 cash, a dream come true. But days later, that dream shattered. I walked into our new apartment and found him with Chloe, my best friend, my maid of honor. They weren' t even sorry. The "engagement gift" cash? Mostly prop money, "FOR MOTION PICTURE USE ONLY" stamped on the bills. Then they flipped the script. They screamed I was the thief, that I' d swapped the money. Their brutal social media campaign painted me as a gold digger, a liar. Legal fees bankrupted me, friends vanished. The world turned its back. Anxiety became my shadow. In a desolate, snow-covered parking lot, Ethan' s radicalized fans, convinced I had destroyed their idol, emerged from the swirling snow. The last thing I felt was the cold, then a sharp, searing pain, then nothing. A life unjustly stolen, a future erased by a con artist and a betrayer. I woke with a gasp, heart hammering. Sunlight streamed through my old bedroom window. The date on my phone: Thanksgiving morning. The day of the engagement party. The trauma was real, but so was the second chance. This time, I wouldn't be the victim. This time, they would pay.

I was the heir to a tech and real estate empire, living a life most only dreamed of. Yet, I felt a constant ache, a longing for something pure. My father’s “Vanguard Program” was supposed to find me a wife, and I was infatuated with Ava Moreau, the ice queen he picked as a frontrunner. I thought she was my future. Then, my world shattered. I overheard Chloe Bishop, one of the Vanguard women, openly mock my "pathetic devotion" and call my near-drowning "staged." Moments later, I witnessed Ava and her supposed "younger brother," Liam, in a passionate embrace, betraying everything I believed. Their intricate scheme began to unravel. Liam faked an injury to frame me. Ava deliberately sabotaged my horse's saddle during a polo match, leaving me bruised and broken. Then, she humiliated me publicly at a charity gala, hijacking an auction and smirking as she gifted my prized item to Liam. The final blow came at my own engagement party: a deepfake video of me, making lewd comments, broadcast to hundreds. The crowd gasped, whispered, judging me. My reputation, my honor, publicly shredded. How could people I nearly married, people embraced by my family, plot such elaborate deceit? Why the constant humiliation, the relentless sabotage, to destroy me? Their betrayal cut deeper than any physical wound. But their arrogance was their downfall. I had secretly installed surveillance. And as the fake tape played, exposing me as a pervert, I pulled out my phone, ready to expose *them* and tear down their web of lies, no matter the cost.

Sarah Thorne, née Miller, lived in a glittering New York penthouse, the wife of tech billionaire Marcus Thorne. Everyone whispered it was a fairytale, but Sarah was trapped, a silent prisoner in a gilded cage. Her world crumbled when Marcus, the man who’d allegedly ‘saved’ her, began using her parents’ struggling diner as ruthless leverage, threatening them with prison. Then, his mistress Tiffany arrived, turning Sarah’s home into a stage for relentless humiliation. Marcus’s cruelty escalated: from gaslighting his infidelity to forcing Sarah into a childhood trauma trigger – a dark, rat-infested root cellar. He even publicly shamed her with leaked childhood photos and doused her in greasy dishwater at a high-society event. The betrayal was absolute. How could the man who promised her the world become her tormentor? Why did he constantly break her down? In despair, Sarah decided she couldn't escape him alive. She contacted her childhood chemist friend, Evie, for an untraceable substance. Her grim plan: a final, shared exit. But Evie's "poison" wasn't what Sarah thought. It was a reversible sedative, designed not for an end, but for Sarah's ultimate freedom and Marcus's brutal, surprising reckoning.

I have been with Valerie since childhood, and our relationship is as deep as sisters. The Flynn family carefully selected a husband for her, and they chose the newly crowned top scholar. I thought Valerie would be able to marry well. However, on the eve of the wedding, the Flynn family suffered a sudden disaster and everyone perished except for Valerie and me, struggling in the storm. While on the way to her fiancé, Valerie was kidnapped by bandits and her whereabouts remain unknown. She eventually met a tragic end by falling into a dry well. As for me, Valerie's fiancé took me as his concubine and I became pregnant with his only child. Princess Miranda sees me as a thorn in her side, while the top scholar treats me like a treasure. However, they don't know that I am actually a grim reaper sent to take their lives!

Fear follows Alpha Samson wherever he goes. As the ruthless leader of the Blackthorn pack, he and his beast, Savage, bow to no one. But when a haunting scent leads him to a neighboring pack's dungeon, he finds his fated mate-bloody, broken, and chained to the wall. Alora is a half-wolf, half-witch hybrid falsely accused and left to die. But her abusers made one fatal mistake: they touched the mate of a monster. Rescued by the fierce Alpha, Alora begins a journey of healing that uncovers a lifetime of lies. She isn't just a survivor; she's a weapon. Together, Samson and Alora will unleash hell on those who wronged her, unearthing dark family secrets and claiming the crown that was stolen from her birth.

I was waiting at the Registry Hall to formalize my mate bond with Gabe, my childhood sweetheart and the Alpha of our pack. He was thirty-two minutes late. When I finally found him in a private VIP lounge, his hands were buried in my cousin's hair, their lips locked together. Hailee was supposed to be my maid of honor. Instead of apologizing, Gabe looked me dead in the eye and used his Alpha authority to publicly reject me. The severing of our ten-year bond tore my soul apart, but the nightmare didn't stop there. My grandfather immediately called, demanding I clean up a mess Hailee had made. When I refused, he disowned me on the spot, froze every single one of my bank accounts, and stripped me of my family name. Within hours, my entire pack erased my existence, gleefully announcing Hailee as their new Luna. I had given my entire life to a family and a man who discarded me like worthless trash the second I became inconvenient. I was left broken, humiliated, and utterly penniless in the blink of an eye. But as I stumbled out of that sterile hall, a terrifyingly beautiful stranger stepped out of the shadows, radiating a primal power that made my knees weak. He was Caden Sinclair, the ruthless Lycan King, and he was dodging a forced political union of his own. "You need a shield. I need a wife. Marry me." Without hesitation, I signed the Eternal Vow.

I was three months pregnant when the car hit me. Lying there, barely hanging on, I called my husband-Alpha Ethan-over and over. No answer. When I finally woke up from the pain, I saw a post from his first love, Ivy. "Thank you, Alpha, for knowing how scared I am of the dark and staying with me all night. He even cleared his whole schedule today to take me to the auction, just to give me the best gift in the world. I'm so happy!" Right then, it hit me. While I was fighting to protect our child, he was with another she-wolf. I calmly liked her post and put my phone away. Since he chose his first love, I chose to let go. Seven days from now, I'd leave his world for good-with our child.

For years, Elara Park endured being called "half-breed" and "weak blood" at pack meetings. Because she was a hybrid wolf, she trusted Zack Blackwood's sweet promises. Then he rejected their fated mate bond moments after claiming her body. Before she could even breathe through the soul-crushing agony, the news was already celebrating his engagement to her vindictive stepsister, Selina. The headlines gushed about their "perfect pureblooded union." Her mother's call came like a final blow: "Elara, you're twenty-three now. It's time you contributed to the family." Marry the worthless second son of a prominent Alpha family or lose her father's empire forever. They had her trapped, ready to steal her birthright and leave her powerless. But as the heartbreak bled out, ice-cold determination took its place. Elara went to the arranged meeting at the city's most exclusive club, determined to turn her mother's matchmaking scheme to her advantage. She would agree to marriage-but on her own terms. When she found who she believed was Damian Sterling in the private suite, she cut straight to business: a contract marriage with clear boundaries, separate lives, and a guaranteed escape route. What she didn't know? The devastatingly dangerous man who'd just signed her contract with a predator's smile wasn't the pathetic playboy she expected. He was Dominic Wolfe-the Alpha King who'd been relentlessly hunting her for years. And now, she'd just signed herself over to him completely.

For three years, I poured my blood, sweat, and tears into building Blackwood Group for Alec, my Alpha and the man I thought was my mate. But on the day of our work anniversary, I stood outside his office door and heard him talking with his Beta, shattering my entire world. "Kay is just a wolfless Omega, useful for paperwork," Alec sneered coldly. "The bonding ceremony is just a show for the elders. The real Luna, the one who carries the bloodline that matters, is Breanne. I'm transferring all of Kay's core project files to Breanne tomorrow. Let her take the credit." He even texted me later, telling me to wear a blue dress to the upcoming gala because it made me look "obedient." I had turned down a Wharton scholarship for this man. I had spent countless nights fixing his mistakes, building his empire, and giving him my youth. Yet to him, I was nothing but a disposable placeholder, expected to smile and bow while another woman stole my life's work and my place by his side. The agonizing pain in my chest didn't break me; it forged me into ice. I didn't cry, and I certainly didn't beg. Instead, I wiped his servers clean of every strategy I had ever created, left a wax-sealed resignation on his desk, and accepted a job offer from his most ruthless rival.

For eight years, Cecilia Moore was the perfect Luna, loyal, and unmarked. Until the day she found her Alpha mate with a younger, purebred she-wolf in his bed. In a world ruled by bloodlines and mating bonds, Cecilia was always the outsider. But now, she's done playing by wolf rules. She smiles as she hands Xavier the quarterly financials-divorce papers clipped neatly beneath the final page. "You're angry?" he growls. "Angry enough to commit murder," she replies, voice cold as frost. A silent war brews under the roof they once called home. Xavier thinks he still holds the power-but Cecilia has already begun her quiet rebellion. With every cold glance and calculated step, she's preparing to disappear from his world-as the mate he never deserved. And when he finally understands the strength of the heart he broke... It may be far too late to win it back.

I died once before, framed for a murder that never happened. I am Princess Fiona Avery of the Blackwood Pack, forced by my father into a political union with Bowen Mayer, heir to a powerful house. In my first life, my husband's mistress faked a pregnancy, accused me of pushing her into a lake, and watched as I was condemned as a murderer. I spent my final days in a mental ward, broken and drugged, until a lethal injection silenced me forever. But the dead don't always stay dead. I opened my eyes on the very day it all went wrong. My tea was still laced with sedative. My husband's footsteps were already pounding down the hall. His weeping mistress was ready to play her part. This time, I don't beg. I don't cry. I don't kneel. I summon the ruthless Gamma of the royal Shadow Guard. I demand the pack doctor examine his precious lover-right here, in front of everyone. I stake my life on a wager I know I cannot lose. They think I'm still the weak, wolfless princess they once destroyed. They have no idea what I've become.

"I reject you," Alpha Damon sneered, looking down at the shivering Omega. "I need a Queen, not a servant." Aria bowed her head and accepted her fate, but she took a secret with her when she fled into the night: the Alpha's heir growing in her womb. Five years later, Aria returns to the city, no longer the weak girl who scrubbed floors. She is powerful, wealthy, and stunning. She thought she could hide from her past, but fate has a cruel sense of humor. Her new business partner is none other than Alpha Damon. When Damon sees her, he realizes the mistake he made. He wants his mate back. But then he sees the little boy with his same grey eyes hiding behind her legs. "Who is the child, Aria?" Damon growls, his possessiveness flaring. Aria smiles coldly. "Someone you rejected."

Lyric had spent her life being hated. Bullied for her scarred face and hated by everyone-including her own mate-she was always told she was ugly. Her mate only kept her around to gain territory, and the moment he got what he wanted, he rejected her, leaving her broken and alone. Then, she met him. The first man to call her beautiful. The first man to show her what it felt like to be loved. It was only one night, but it changed everything. For Lyric, he was a saint, a savior. For him, she was the only woman that had ever made him cum in bed-a problem he had been battling for years. Lyric thought her life would finally be different, but like everyone else in her life, he lied. And when she found out who he really was, she realized he wasn't just dangerous-he was the kind of man you don't escape from. Lyric wanted to run. She wanted freedom. But she desired to navigate her way and take back her respect, to rise above the ashes. Eventually, she was forced into a dark world she didn't wish to get involved with.

They don't know I'm a girl. They all look at me and see a boy. A prince. Their kind purchase humans like me for their lustful desires. And, when they stormed into our kingdom to buy my sister, I intervened to protect her. I made them take me too. The plan was to escape with my sister whenever we found a chance. How was I to know our prison would be the most fortified place in their kingdom? I was supposed to be on the sidelines. The one they had no real use for. The one they never meant to buy. But then, the most important person in their savage land-their ruthless beast king-took an interest in the "pretty little prince." How do we survive in this brutal kingdom, where everyone hates our kind and shows us no mercy? And how does someone, with a secret like mine, become a lust slave? . AUTHOR'S NOTE. This is a dark romance-dark, mature content. Highly rated 18+ Expect triggers, expect hardcore. If you're a seasoned reader of this genre, looking for something different, prepared to go in blindly not knowing what to expect at every turn, but eager to know more anyway, then dive in! . From the author of the international bestselling book: "The Alpha King's Hated Slave."