His Defiant Luna: The Cursed Prince's Ruthless Bride

The Royal Pack’s glowing moonstone token rested in my palm. Before I could even process the miracle of my rebirth, my half-sister Alyssa snatched it right out of my hand. "This destiny is mine, little sister. Enjoy your cursed Alpha," she sneered. My family easily caved to her whining. They forced me to take her place and marry Alpha Kaelen, a man they called an insane, crippled monster with three feral adopted sons. They laughed, expecting his beast to tear me apart before the honeymoon was over. Alyssa thought she was stealing my crown. She didn't know she had just stolen my death sentence. In my previous life, that exact token had made me the Alpha King’s Luna. But I was just a convenient, disposable meat shield for his true human mate. I died agonizingly, choking on poison meant for her, while the King didn't even blink. I lowered my head, forcing my shoulders to tremble as if holding back terrified sobs. I played the part of the pathetic, wolfless Omega they all believed me to be. But beneath my fake tears, I felt a profound relief. I remembered the Kaelen from my past life. He wasn't a monster. He was powerful, agonizingly lonely, and slowly destroyed by a dark magic no one understood. I wisely accepted the marriage pact and walked right into his freezing manor. I know exactly who cursed him. And this time, I will save him, protect his boys, and make his entire pack mine.

Callie thought her two-year marriage to Jaime, a wealthy and gentle CEO, was a perfect sanctuary. That was until a late-night call from the NYPD shattered her world. Her husband was being questioned at a hotel where a male escort had just died. Rushing home, she didn't find a grieving man, but caught him in his study intimately entangled with the dead escort's friend. When confronted, Jaime didn't apologize. He coldly admitted he was gay and their marriage was just a sham for his inheritance. To keep her quiet, his wealthy family threatened to cut off the life-support funds for her comatose mother unless she got pregnant immediately to kill the PR scandal. When his lover later tried to sexually assault Callie in her own hallway, she fought back and struck him in self-defense. Jaime walked in, but instead of protecting his wife, he slapped her hard across the face. "You're so desperate for a man, you'll attack my guest?" She had endured the public humiliation, the cruel blackmail, and even survived a horrific car crash just to keep her mother alive. Yet, watching her husband comfort the man who just tried to violate her, she felt a chilling emptiness. Every moment of their marriage was a sickening lie. Wiping the blood from her bruised lip, the last chain of her submission finally snapped. She locked herself in the guest room and picked up her phone. She was going to accept the help of the ruthless Wall Street billionaire who had saved her life, and she was getting out tonight.

After being kidnapped for years and finally rescued, five-year-old Izzy thought she was going home to her wealthy biological family. But when the social worker brought her to the freezing bus station, her biological father, Conrad, didn't even get out of his Mercedes. He took one look at her tangled hair and worn-out shoes, his lip curling in disgust. "I have a real family now. I'm not disrupting my life for this." He drove away, leaving her choking on his exhaust fumes. When her rough, grease-stained uncle Bryan forcefully brought her to the family mansion, things only got worse. Her biological mother refused to touch her, complaining that she smelled like a dumpster. Her half-sister Katelynn pushed her to the ground, making her bleed, and framed her for stealing. Instead of helping, Conrad roared at Izzy, calling her a wild animal and threatening to throw her back onto the streets. Izzy stood there shivering in her oversized rags, watching them stand together in a perfect, unbroken circle. She didn't understand why her own blood looked at her like she was a monster, or why they were so eager to throw a traumatized child back into the dark. But what her wealthy family didn't know was that Izzy had a secret: she could hear plants talking. And the greenhouse orchids were screaming at their cruelty. So, she climbed onto their expensive coffee table, pointed at her mechanic uncle, and made her choice. "I don't want Conrad to be my daddy. I want Uncle Bryan." She walked out of that loveless mansion forever, ready to follow the whispers of an old apple tree in her new backyard—a tree that was about to guide her to a buried fortune of gold.

I’m the girl from the trailer park who married the coldest billionaire on Wall Street. To the world, I’m a lucky gold-digger. To Gustavus English, I’m just a $2 million "service fee" and a human shield to keep his board of directors from tearing him apart. The morning after he treated our intimacy like a cold business transaction, he threw a check at my face and called me a mistake. He didn't know that behind my "frightened doe" act, I was a finance genius at Columbia secretly shorting his company’s stock to destroy him from the inside. The humiliation was relentless. He forced me into expensive suits that made me look like a pathetic doll and paraded me in front of paparazzi to boost his stock price. Then his brother, Caspian, arrived—the man who laughed while bulldozing the orphanage of my childhood. Caspian recognized me, whispering threats of exposure while his eyes stripped me bare. "Don't method act with me, hillbilly. You aren't my wife," Gustavus hissed, pinning me against a marble wall. I felt the burning injustice of being a bought asset, trapped between a husband who despised me and a brother-in-law who wanted to break me. I was a victim playing a dangerous game, waiting for the right moment to strike. But at a high-stakes family dinner, the power struggle turned lethal. To stop his family from seizing his billions, Gustavus dropped a bomb that shattered my plans. "We are already working on an heir," he announced, activating a legal clause that froze the entire family trust. He dragged me into the shadows, his voice a dark command. "Now you have no choice. You get pregnant, or we lose everything. Don't make me regret this." He wanted a legacy to save his empire, but I was about to give him the most expensive mistake of his life.

As the building crumbled around us, my husband, a paramedic, held the only oxygen mask. He gave it to his high school sweetheart, not to me, his wife who was struggling to breathe. Pinned under a beam, I gasped that I was pregnant. He told me to stop being dramatic and left me to die, taking our son with him. My own son agreed, telling his father I always "bounce back." I lost our baby, alone in a hospital room, while they fussed over her "anxiety attack" across the hall. They had chosen her, leaving me and our child in the rubble without a second thought. When he finally confronted me, it wasn't to apologize, but to demand I stop my "games." So I gave him exactly what he and our son had wished for. "I'm divorcing you," I said calmly. "And you can have Jax. I no longer want to be his mother."

I took a poisoned dagger for my husband, Alpha Jackson, destroying my womb and my health to save his life. I thought my sacrifice made our bond unbreakable. But three years later, when I miraculously fell pregnant, he didn't celebrate. Instead, he brought me a box of "expensive supplements" to help my condition. I opened a vial and smelled the acrid, metallic scent of Wolfsbane. He wasn't trying to heal me; he was ensuring I—and the baby he didn't know about—would never wake up. At the pack ceremony, he publicly humiliated me, pinning the Luna's brooch on his pregnant mistress, Candida. When I protested, he slapped me across the face in front of the entire pack, calling me a useless, barren burden. He wanted me dead so he could replace me. So, I gave him exactly what he wanted. With the help of a trusted healer, I staged my own death and vanished into the night. Years later, when I returned as the powerful White Wolf and the cherished mate of the Lycan King, Jackson fell to his knees in front of the world, weeping and begging for me to come home. I looked down at the man who destroyed me and smiled cold. "Get up, Jackson. You're embarrassing yourself." "I'm not your wife anymore; I'm the woman who survived you."