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Elara Vance was a withdrawn omega, often overlooked in the Silver Moon Pack for her quiet demeanor and unassuming appearance.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

My world spun as I felt myself tumbling backward down the stairs. The sickening sensation of falling sent panic surging through me, but before I could hit the next step, strong arms caught me. The familiar scent hit me first—sandalwood and spice. Rhys.


"Elara?" His voice sounded almost gentle, a stark contrast to his usual cold demeanor. "Are you—"


He didn't finish. Another set of hands pulled me away from him with startling force. Orion's scent enveloped me now—pine and mountain air—as he yanked me against his chest.


"Don't touch her," Orion growled, the vibration rumbling through his chest against my back.


I blinked, disoriented from the near-fall and the sudden territorial display happening around me. Rhys stood just a step below us, his dark eyes narrowed and dangerous. The muscle in his jaw ticked—a telltale sign of his barely controlled fury that I remembered all too well.


"I was preventing her from cracking her skull open," Rhys snapped. "Something you failed to do."


A Rescuer's Rage and a Woman Scorned