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Elara Vance was a withdrawn omega, often overlooked in the Silver Moon Pack for her quiet demeanor and unassuming appearance.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

"Sera and Luna are coming back soon," I said, glancing at the clock on the wall. I figured they'd want some space after all that had happened, but I knew my friends wouldn't stay away forever. Especially not Sera, who was probably dying to hear every detail.


Rhys lounged against the kitchen counter, still shirtless, his impressive chest on full display. The bandage on his arm was starting to look worn, reminding me of his injury.


"I'd better put on a shirt then," he said with a lazy smirk. "Unless you want your friends to see what belongs to you."


I rolled my eyes, ignoring the flutter in my stomach at his possessive tone. "Go change. And I should check that wound again."


"Playing doctor, fairy?" His voice dropped to that low, husky tone that made my insides melt.


"Playing sensible," I corrected, shooing him toward the bedroom. "I don't want your arm getting infected."


The Alpha's Ultimatum