Elara Veyne

"Ahh!" She writhed in a haze of moans, her body trembling with conflicting sensations. She loathed this man, yet every fiber of her being reacted to his touch. As his hands began to roam along her waist, she sucked in a sharp breath—the sudden pull of her back zipper sent a shiver down her spine. The metal slider halted at the small of her back, and as it opened, her upper back and waist were exposed, baring her skin to the cool air. "D-Don’t—mmph!" Her protest was smothered by the pillow as his fingers caressed her bare spine, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. With a deep, angry growl, he whispered harshly in her ear, "I'll make you forget every touch, every kiss, every thing about him. From now on, when you're with another man, you'll only see me."

Elara Vance was a withdrawn omega, often overlooked in the Silver Moon Pack for her quiet demeanor and unassuming appearance. But beneath her thick glasses lay a hidden crush on Rhys Knight, the pack's future Alpha and a notorious campus playboy. Rhys scoffed at mate bonds, treating relationships as disposable—until Elara's eighteenth birthday, when he publicly rejected her, turning her into the butt of every joke.

Now, Elara returns transformed—glasses discarded, her hair styled sleek and confident—and Rhys can't take his eyes off her. What if her blood holds a sacred heritage chosen by the Moon Goddess? What if the "humiliation" was part of a larger scheme? And when Rhys, the alpha who once dismissed her, kneels before her new love interest, Liam Thorne, begging for a second chance, who will claim victory in this battle of pride and passion?

Rejected by My Alpha Mate

The black SUV pulled up to Julian Mercer's family farmhouse, and I couldn't help but gasp. What was normally a rustic, charming property had been transformed into something straight out of a music video. Strobe lights flashed through the windows, and the bass from the music inside thumped so hard I could feel it in my chest even from the car.


"Oh my god, Julian went all out," Seraphina said beside me, her excitement palpable.


Debra leaned forward from the back seat, her platinum blonde hair falling over her shoulder. "This is going to be epic. Are you ready, Elara?"


Was I ready? I tugged at the hem of my black dress for the twentieth time since putting it on. The fabric clung to my curves like a second skin, the length stopping mid-thigh – much shorter than anything I'd ever worn before.


"I think so," I replied, trying to sound more confident than I felt.


The Grand Entrance and Eyes That Burn