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Elara Vance was a withdrawn omega, often overlooked in the Silver Moon Pack for her quiet demeanor and unassuming appearance.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

"So I'll need to wear what?" I asked, eyeing the skimpy black outfit Raina was holding up. The tiny skirt and low-cut top looked more suited for a night of clubbing than working.


"Standard Crimson Moon uniform," Raina said apologetically. "I know it's not your usual style, but the tips make it worth it, trust me."


I sighed, taking the outfit from her. The fabric felt insubstantial in my hands, barely enough to qualify as clothing. Four years ago, I would've rather died than wear something so revealing. But I wasn't that insecure girl anymore.


"Fine, but if anyone tries anything, I'm breaking fingers," I warned, only half-joking.


Raina laughed, relief flooding her features. "That's the spirit. Just make sure they pay their tab first."


As she guided me through the staff entrance to introduce me to Chad, the manager, I mentally rearranged my weekend schedule. Design work would have to wait. At least bartending would keep my mind off Monday's looming Silver Moon meeting.


A Favor for a Friend, A Summons from an Alpha