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Elara Vance was a withdrawn omega, often overlooked in the Silver Moon Pack for her quiet demeanor and unassuming appearance.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 had barely registered the door slamming open when a hand roughly grabbed my arm. The world was still spinning, my thoughts scattered like broken glass, but there was no mistaking the raw fury radiating from the man before me.


His eyes blazed crimson, the wolf in him fully present and enraged. Before I could form a coherent thought, he yanked me up from the bed with such force that I stumbled forward.


"Look at yourself," he snarled, dragging me toward the mirror on Rowan's wall. "Look at what you did while I was gone."


My reflection stared back at me—a stranger with mussed hair, wearing Rowan's oversized shirt, and horrifyingly, a neck covered in red marks. I blinked, trying to bring the image into focus through the fog still clouding my mind.


"I don't... I didn't..." My words came out slurred, my tongue feeling too thick for my mouth.


An Alpha's Fury, A Lover's Torment