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Elara Vance was a withdrawn omega, often overlooked in the Silver Moon Pack for her quiet demeanor and unassuming appearance.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

I lay curled on my bed, staring blankly at the wall. Three days had passed since I'd learned about Rhys's arranged marriage. Three days of barely eating, barely sleeping, barely living.


My wolf whimpered constantly, a pitiful echo of my own despair. She'd grown quiet over the hours, weakened by our shared heartbreak.


"He's really gone," I whispered to the empty room. "He's choosing someone else."


The words, spoken aloud, pierced through me like physical pain. I clutched my chest, wondering how something invisible could hurt so much.


A knock at my door startled me, but I didn't answer. Eventually, it creaked open, and my mother's worried face appeared.


"Elara, sweetie," she said softly. "I brought you some soup."


I nodded, not trusting my voice. Mom placed the bowl on my nightstand and sat beside me on the bed, her cool hand stroking my hair.


"You haven't been yourself," she observed. "Is it school? Or is something else bothering you?"


A Flight from Heartbreak and a Tragic Twist of Fate