Leo Fairchild

For eight years, I loved Alpha Ryker Blackwood. The moment the mate bond snapped into place, my whole world became about him. That night, I brought him his favorite cinnamon rolls, my heart pounding with the hope that he was finally ready to accept me. As I reached his study, his thoughts slammed into me through our bond, a cruel, accidental broadcast. "Cassia Thorne will be my Chosen Mate. We'll announce she is carrying my pup to make Elara accept the Rejection. I cannot be shackled by a bond I never wanted." The silver tray slipped from my numb fingers and crashed to the floor. Ryker ripped the door open, his eyes blazing with fury. He didn't see my shattered heart; he only saw the mess on his expensive rug. "Useless," he snarled, his voice a low growl that vibrated through my soul. He slammed the door in my face, leaving me alone with the ruins of my life. A moment later, my phone buzzed. It was a pack-wide invitation to a celebration. My public execution. The pain in my chest was a physical thing, the bond tearing itself apart as I realized the man fated to be mine had planned my ultimate humiliation down to the last detail. He thought he was orchestrating my public ruin. He had no idea his chosen mate was a lie. And her secret was about to burn his entire world to the ground.

For seven years, I was a prisoner in a wheelchair, and my husband, Carter, was my devoted savior. After the accident that stole my legs, he fed me, bathed me, and carried me. He was my entire world. Then I discovered his secret: he was having an affair with Jade, the daughter of the man who crippled me. My "recovery" smoothies weren't for healing; they were laced with sedatives to keep me weak and dependent. When I confronted them, Jade pushed me down the stairs. As I lay bleeding on the cold marble floor, I felt a sharp, agonizing pain. I was losing our baby. Carter looked down at me with disgust. "You're pathetic, Alayna. Stay here and rot." He walked out, leaving me to die. But I didn't die. My family found me. And as I slowly, miraculously, learned to walk again, the broken wife he knew was gone. They took my legs, my child, and my trust. Now, I would take everything from them.

Amelia Hopewell was found by her biological father and brought home. That same day, she discovered a bodyguard, Edmund Nash, barely clinging to life after being tormented by the false heiress. She used half her blood to save him. Later, when Amelia's father fell gravely ill, all the family's assets were secretly frozen by a notorious crime lord. In desperation, Amelia sought Edmund's help. Instead, she witnessed the crime lord's second-in-command standing respectfully before him. "Mr. Nash, if Miss Hopewell's father doesn't get surgery within three hours, he won't survive," the man said. "The company's success owes much to the money Miss Hopewell gave you. Are you sure you won't reveal your true identity to her?" he asked. Edmund toyed with an expensive sapphire necklace, his eyes cold and detached. "For the next three hours, ensure Amelia Hopewell doesn't borrow a single penny," he ordered. "Rosalyn said if Amelia's father gets the surgery, she won't let me step foot in her room again. What a vengeful little girl." Amelia realized the crime lord who had been crushing her family's business for three years was none other than her beloved fiancé, Edmund Nash. Upon learning the truth, Amelia dialed the number of her former subordinate, "I want Edmund ruined in three days!"

The last thing I remembered was the cold, my body broken, kneeling in the snow at Chloe Davis' s memorial. I was Olivia Reynolds, a tech heiress who gave everything for Julian Thorne, only for him to shatter my soul. He built a digital shrine to his "dead" ex-girlfriend in our home, forcing me to chant repentance for sins I didn' t commit, mourning a woman whose supposed death catalyzed his public transformation into a guru. This relentless torment led to my miscarriage, the loss of our unborn child, and ultimately, my own lonely death. Then, I opened my eyes. I was back in the bridal suite of the Grand Astoria Hotel, on my wedding day, the scent of gardenias filling the air. The day it all began, again. Julian walked in, his charming smile now turning my stomach. "Olivia, my love," he said, "I need to talk to you about Chloe." He spun the same manipulative tale from my past life, claiming Chloe was leaving the country forever and he needed to see her "one last time" for "our future." He called it a sacrifice we had to make, together. The same sacrifice that had made me the lamb on his altar before. I remembered his cruelty, my empty crib, my parents' grief, Ethan' s vacant eyes after Julian destroyed his life. He had been reborn too, and knew. But this time, I wouldn't be so foolish. I wouldn't cry or beg. I would give Julian exactly what he thought he wanted: my blessing to go.

Four years ago, I melted my skin into the asphalt to pull Julian Moretti from a burning wreckage. I spent years in the shadows, nursing him back to health, hiding my scars while he reclaimed his title as the Underboss of New York. But on the way to our wedding, everything shattered. Estelle Russo, the woman who caused the crash that ruined me, complained of a stomach ache in the limousine. Julian didn't hesitate. He ordered the driver to stop on the shoulder of the highway. "Get out," he barked at me, his eyes cold. He forced me out of the car in my wedding gown, leaving me stranded in the dust and exhaust fumes just so Estelle could lie down on the seat. "Take a cab to the church," he sneered before speeding away. He didn't just leave me on the road; he abandoned me at the altar to hold the hand of the woman who had once tried to kill him. He called our relationship a "debt" he was tired of paying. I stood there, the lace of my dress heavy with humiliation, realizing I was never his Queen—I was just his collateral damage. I didn't call a taxi. Instead, I pulled a burner phone from my bodice and dialed the one number that would end his reign. "The deal is live," I whispered. "He chose her." I stripped off the wedding dress, climbed over the guardrail, and stepped into the black sedan waiting to take me to his greatest enemy.

For years, I played the part of the dutiful, soft-spoken wife, even though my family's wealth could buy and sell my husband's entire town. I worked a low-paying job, pretending every dollar counted, all to soothe Brian's fragile ego as we saved for our daughter Stella's private school. Then, a cold notification shattered the illusion: our $150,000 in savings was gone. Brian flinched, then confessed: he'd given every penny to his mother, not for an emergency, but to buy a house for his deadbeat brother, Ryan, and his pregnant fiancée, Gabrielle. My daughter's future, sacrificed for their shameless greed. But instead of the tears and accusations Brian expected, a calm, terrible clarity washed over me. I smiled, a slow, understanding smile, and pretended it was "just money." As his family's demands for a lavish wedding escalated-a Tiffany ring, the Four Seasons, a luxury car-I played along, promising my "uncle's" company would handle it. Then, I unveiled my masterpiece: a "fake divorce" to access a multi-million-dollar trust fund, a lie so tantalizing even Brian's avaricious mother mortgaged her house for the wedding deposits. They thought they were fleecing a naive fool. They had no idea they were walking into a meticulously laid trap, designed to utterly ruin them. Tonight, at the wedding, the truth will come out, and they will pay for every penny.

"I'll do it," I told my father, agreeing to an arranged marriage to save our failing family business. It was a lifeline. But then my mother mentioned Chloe, and the truth, raw and ugly, began to unravel: my five-year relationship, the company we built together, everything was a lie. I had given up my dream career, poured my savings and energy into "O'Connell & Davis Design" for a love I thought was real. But Chloe had always seen me as a stand-in, a "successful and stable" version of her childhood crush, Noah Vance. I discovered their secret chats, their intimate moments, and the chilling realization that my entire existence in her life had been a performance. Even my grandmother's redesigned engagement ring, a symbol of my intent, was just another prop in her twisted game. She brazenly claimed it as hers, desperate to maintain her illusion. The depth of her betrayal, the calculated deceit, left me hollow. My love, my sacrifices, our shared future-all reduced to a cruel joke. In the face of her desperate attempts to reel me back in-her feigned distress for Noah, her oblivious claims of love-I cut all ties, walked away from our shared life, and embraced a future with the formidable Isabella Rossi, a woman who had seen my worth all along.

Five years ago, I was a world-renowned concert pianist. Now, I'm an auto mechanic with a mangled right hand, hiding from a past my ex-husband, Carter, dismisses as a "tantrum." He drags me to a charity gala where his mistress, Alexandrea, puts me on the spot, demanding I play for the city's elite-a cruel, public humiliation she knows I can't perform. When I refuse, Carter shoves me to the ground in a rage. He still thinks our daughter, Lily, is alive, and he uses her as a weapon. "Behave," he hisses, "and maybe we can bring Lily back home." Bring her home? The sheer ignorance is staggering. He has no idea our daughter froze to death in the same car crash that destroyed my hand. But just before the gala, my best friend uncovered the final, devastating truth. It wasn't an accident. They sabotaged my car and left us for dead. Tonight, I'm not just attending a party. I'm orchestrating a funeral. Theirs.

I was a surgeon on the most luxurious ship in the world, scrubbing my hands until they were raw to forget the name Ye Jiuting and the past I’d left behind. But at 2:15 AM, Room 404 became my graveyard when a federal agent flatlined on my table, and the world I’d built turned into a nightmare. The nurse handed me a syringe she swore was a standard antibiotic, but the ship’s medical files had been scrubbed to hide a fatal allergy. Before the body was even cold, the widow was screaming murder, and the ship’s foreman, Huston Lyons, was at my throat with a predatory grin. "You killed him, Doctor," Huston sneered, "and on this ship, people like you tend to disappear overboard." When I tried to prove the syringe was clean, Huston’s brutal grip forced the needle into my own arm, injecting me with a lethal stimulant that sent my heart into a violent, scorching frenzy. I fled into the bowels of the ship, my vision warping and my lungs burning, while a ship-wide announcement declared a five-million-dollar bounty on my head. Every desperate gambler and debt-ridden crew member was now hunting me like an animal for a chance at a clean slate. I didn't understand how the digital records could lie or why a routine dose had been replaced with poison. Was I a target, or just a convenient scapegoat for a conspiracy much larger than a single death? Just as the mercenaries were about to drag me to a black site, Clinton Collier, the terrifying "King of the Leviathan," stepped out of the shadows and claimed my life as his own. "She is my Caretaker now," he declared, wrapping a black silk ribbon around my neck to mark me as his exclusive property. I had escaped the gallows only to be collared by a monster, but as I felt his madness recede under my touch, I realized that being his only cure was the most dangerous weapon I possessed.

My fiancé, Dereck, told me a construction accident had shattered my dominant hand, ending my career as an architect. But drifting in a drugged haze, I overheard the truth. It wasn't an accident. He had paid the doctor to cripple me, to make me a "broken architect" so I could never leave him. I soon discovered his real reason: a secret son with his lover, Kacey. He was building their family while destroying my life. At a party celebrating the "adoption" of his own child, Kacey framed me for an attack. Dereck and his family called me a worthless disgrace in front of everyone. He thought he had broken me. He thought he had erased me. He was wrong. I faked my own fiery death, leaving him to rot in his guilt while I prepared my revenge.

The yacht' s engine faded, leaving me stranded on a desolate island. My fiancé, Liam, and my adoptive sister, Brittany, had promised a celebratory pre-wedding adventure, but they left me there to die. For ten agonizing days, the emergency beacon on the smartwatch Liam gave me, supposedly a symbol of his protection, blinked unseen. He ignored my desperate signal, the battery dying, my hope dwindling with each passing hour. My leg was shattered, twisted at an unnatural angle from a wild boar attack, leaving me crippled and starving, death a patient shadow. Then, a man emerged from the jungle, a rugged survivalist named Jax, who became my savior, tending my wounds and feeding me. I fell for him, hard and fast, believing fate had replaced a false love with a real one. One night, the pulsing light of a satellite phone deep in the jungle shattered that illusion. I crawled to his hidden bunker, and heard Jax–whose real name was Jason Cole–reporting to Brittany, confirming my worst fears. "I need to stay here to ensure she doesn' t escape and challenge the heiress for her inheritance," he said, his voice cold and professional. Brittany' s chilling reply echoed through the night: "Just make sure it' s clean. No traces. The island will take care of the rest." My savior was my jailer, every kind gesture a calculated lie, every moment a performance. He was poisoning my wound, making sure the island would be blamed for my slow, agonizing death. But I wasn't just a victim; I was an architect, and I could build a storm. Sneaking into his high-tech bunker, I manipulated satellite weather data, designing a phantom hurricane aimed directly at the island. My fabricated storm was my only ticket off this island, but first, I had to survive the real monster trapped with me.

The wedding ring was still cold on my finger when Scarlett, my brand new wife, tossed her phone on the bed. Our Hawaii honeymoon? Canceled. A "business opportunity" came up, she said, already pulling out a sleek black dress. Just a few hours after saying "I do," my world was already shrinking to fit hers. Then came the real unraveling. Left behind in a chaotic foreign riot by the very woman I married and her trusted assistant, I survived hell. I was beaten, starved, and left for dead. When I finally crawled back home, battered and scarred, Scarlett didn't offer comfort – she threw stale pretzels at me and watched with disgust as I ate them off the floor like an animal. Later, she even shoved me down a flight of stairs, leaving me with a ruptured spleen. My life, my love, my very existence was just an inconvenient asset to her. How could the woman I' d loved my entire life treat me like garbage, or worse, a public relations problem? Why was I always the one left broken while she walked away clean? But when her assistant, Dylan, showed up to gloat about orchestrating my near-death experience, confessing every twisted detail of his plan to get rid of me right in front of Scarlett, everything changed. He thought he had manipulated them both, but he made one fatal mistake. Scarlett had finally learned, the hard way, who the real villain was. And now, it was her turn to decide who she was.

The bell above my clinic door jingled. I was Dr. Hayes, a woman who' d finally built a life, a stable family. Pregnant with our planned baby, I believed my husband, Mark, was as excited as I was. Then Chloe, a seemingly confident student, walked in with a smile that felt sharp, unpleasant. "I'm Chloe. Mark's student," she stated, then pushed up her sleeve. There, a fresh tattoo: an infinity symbol intertwined with our anniversary date. "Mark got one too," she purred, "Matching. Cute, right? He said it symbolized forever. Our forever." My stomach clenched, the air left my lungs. That night, Mark played the doting husband, his hand resting on my pregnant belly. But I smelled her perfume, faintly. Days later, I watched on our car's security camera as Mark drove to Chloe's apartment, not a "faculty meeting." I heard him tell her, "Poor Evie. So trusting... Evie' s predictable, a bit naive." He laughed with her, calling my past, my pain, "clingy." Then came Chloe' s texts: a photo of Mark in her bed, followed by a box of my childhood cookies. "He got them for me," she wrote, "Said they reminded him of sweet, innocent things. Guess I' m his new sweet thing." He saw me as the damaged girl from the group home, easily fooled, not the woman I'd become. The man I believed saved me from my past used it to mock me with his mistress. How could I bring our baby into a home built on such casual, callous lies? The trusting, hopeful Evie was gone. I called a clinic, then a ruthless lawyer. This time, I was playing for keeps.

Ethan Miller stared at divorce papers, trapped in a marriage that promised everything but delivered only a polite, desolate void. For years, his wife, Ava Harrison, remained an untouchable enigma, her dedication to charity work a fortress against intimacy. Then, a soft sigh from her private "sanctuary" – the music room – shattered the façade. Ethan found Ava enraptured, whispering Liam's name, clutching a silver toy, surrounded by childhood photos of her adopted brother, exposing a dark, incestuous truth. This wasn't just bizarre; it explained his unconsummated marriage, his role as a convenient "prop." Later, Liam, her enabler, attacked Ethan with a broken bottle, then brutally beat him, while Ava prioritized her brother and the family name, dismissing Ethan's agony as "accidents." Why was he a fool, discarded and abused, while his wife protected a monster? His love, once a perfect score, had been systematically, ruthlessly chipped away by betrayals, leaving only raw, unbearable emptiness. With nothing left, Ethan signed the papers, packed his bag, and walked out of the gilded cage, finally free. He chose a new life in London, leaving behind the chilling memory of Ava' s last, desperate text: "Liam needs you. Come back."

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.

For two years, I was Alpha Jase Davenport's loyal assistant and secret bed-warmer. Because I was a wolfless Omega, I trusted his empty promises instead of instincts I didn't possess. Then, a push notification from a notorious gossip blog shattered my world. Jase was pictured in Paris, his hand intimately resting on the waist of my cruel stepsister, Kira. The headline screamed that he was finally claiming his fated Luna. Before I could even process the betrayal, Jase texted me a cold command to update his schedule, treating me like a soulless employee. Immediately after, my mother called to gloat. "Did you honestly believe an Alpha like Jase would settle for a defective creature like you?" She threatened to freeze my late father's Pack trust fund unless I agreed to marry an abusive, elderly Alpha to be his breeding mare. If I refused, I would be cast out as a penniless stray, easy prey for any Rogue. I was nothing but a convenient placeholder to Jase, and a piece of livestock to my own family. They thought they had me completely cornered, ready to steal my inheritance and leave me to die. But as the panic subsided, a cold clarity took its place. My father's will only required a legal mating bond to unlock my millions; it never said my family had to approve of the groom. I wiped my tears, opened my laptop, and searched for a disgraced, debt-ridden Rogue named Babe Vincent. If I needed a husband on paper to secure my freedom, I was going to buy one.

As a wolfless charity case at the Hyde Pack's celebration, my world shattered when Braydon, my supposed protector, publicly announced Katherine Parrish as his Luna, erasing me. Heartbroken, I fled into a terrifying contract marriage with Alpha King Dallas Marshall for protection. Braydon's public assault and threats forced me to reveal my secret marriage, challenging the King. My "protection" felt like a prison. Braydon revealed I was a "key" to power, not a mate, confirming my fears. Enraged by my attempt to take a morning-after pill, Dallas forced me to swallow it, then branded my lips with a furious kiss. His chilling silence hardened my resolve. I immediately drafted an addendum to our contract, setting strict boundaries to reclaim control.

Zarelle Feymere-heiress to the most powerful werewolf dynasty in the world-made one mistake: she fell for an Alpha who saw her as nothing more than a rare blood bag. For three years, she endured the humiliation of a loveless mating, her veins tapped like a commodity to sustain the woman Calden Ashmoor truly loved, Thessaly. His fated mate, who rejected him to marry his brother. When a web of lies and betrayal is uncovered, Zarelle does the unthinkable: she walks away. Now, stripped of her disguise as a docile omega, the true daughter of the Missatian Pack returns to claim her birthright-and her revenge. Calden always thought he'd married a nobody. He never expected his discarded mate to come back as a queen.

He left her on the streets. His brother-in-law picked her up. and made her his wife. On the day her ex, Mark, married the wealthy socialite Bella, Elena was thrown out with nothing but the clothes on her back-humiliated, broken, and utterly alone. Until Eric Thompson appeared. Bella's older brother. Mark's powerful brother-in-law. And the most feared Alpha in the city. He offered her a hand when no one else would. Then, he offered her a deal: A marriage in name only. A shield against her past. A chance to rebuild. Elena accepted, expecting a cold arrangement between strangers. But behind closed doors, Eric's carefully guarded control unraveled-and so did hers. Their chemistry was explosive, their nights intense, and the lines between business and pleasure blurred beyond recognition. He was the one man she could never have. and the only one she couldn't resist. But when Mark realizes what he truly lost, and Bella discovers the secret behind her brother's bride, Elena must decide: Is this just a contract? Or is this the love she was always meant to fight for?

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.

I thought nothing could hurt more than being betrayed by my mate, until I found out he married my friend behind my back! One night. One mistake. One unforgettable encounter with the one wolf I was never meant to touch: The cold, dangerous Alpha. My ex's sexy older brother. It was supposed to be meaningless. Then I woke up marked. and very much not alone. Turns out, the real danger wasn't sleeping with the wrong brother... It's that he never planned to let me go.

Luna has tried her best to make her forced marriage to Xen work for the sake of their child. But with Riley and Sophia- Xen's ex-girlfriend and her son in the picture. She fights a losing battle. Ollie, Xen's son is neglected by his father for a very long time and he is also suffering from a mysterious sickness that's draining his life force. When his last wish to have his dad come to his 5th birthday party is dashed by his failure to show up, Ollie dies in an accident after seeing his father celebrate Riley's birthday with Sophia and it's displayed on the big advertising boards that fill the city. Ollie dies and Luna follows after, unable to bear the grief, dying in her mate's hands cursing him and begging for a second chance to save her son. Luna gets the opportunity and is woken up in the past, exactly one year to the day Sophia and Riley show up. But this time around, Luna is willing to get rid of everyone and anyone even her mate if he steps in her way to save her son.

Narine never expected to survive. Not after what was done to her body, mind, and soul. But fate had other plans. Rescued by Supreme Alpha Sargis, the kingdom's most feared ruler, she finds herself under the protection of a man she doesn't know... and a bond she doesn't understand. Sargis is no stranger to sacrifice. Ruthless, ambitious, and loyal to the sacred matebond, he's spent years searching for the soul fate promised him, never imagining she would come to him broken, on the brink of death, and afraid of her own shadow. He never meant to fall for her... but he does. Hard and fast. And he'll burn the world before letting anyone hurt her again. What begins in silence between two fractured souls slowly grows into something intimate and real. But healing is never linear. With the court whispering, the past clawing at their heels, and the future hanging by a thread, their bond is tested again and again. Because falling in love is one thing. Surviving it? That's a war of its own. Narine must decide, can she survive being loved by a man who burns like fire, when all she's ever known is how not to feel? Will she shrink for the sake of peace, or rise as Queen for the sake of his soul? For readers who believe even the most fractured souls can be whole again, and that true love doesn't save you. It stands beside you while you save yourself.

For three years, I played the perfect, submissive wife to Alpha Julian Sterling. When I finally got pregnant with his heir, I thought it would warm his cold heart. But the first thing he did when he returned from his trip was hand me a Mate Rejection Agreement. He had brought back his ex-lover, Serena. Julian coldly declared our marriage was just a political chore. To clear the path for her, he fired me from the company I built, watched her mock my late father, and threatened to throw me out as Rogue meat if I didn't submit. The most chilling part was a hidden clause in the divorce papers. It stated that because I was a wolfless Omega, if I were ever pregnant, he would terminate the pup to protect his pure bloodline. I had given him everything, only to be discarded like trash. I touched my flat stomach, terrified and disgusted that the man I loved would gladly kill his own child just to please his new queen. "Prepare the documents to accept the rejection," I told my lawyer calmly. Julian thought he had won, throwing away his useless, barren Omega. He had no idea I was taking his only heir with me, and I would burn his entire empire to the ground before he ever found out.