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Elara Vance was a withdrawn omega, often overlooked in the Silver Moon Pack for her quiet demeanor and unassuming appearance.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 stared at the wine staining Rhys's shirt, my hands trembling slightly as I reached for another napkin. His eyes tracked my every movement, cold and calculating.


"I guess opening wine bottles isn't one of your many talents," he sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. "Or is that something you save for your special clients?"


The jab stung more than I wanted to admit. I pressed my lips together and focused on dabbing at his shirt, desperate to finish this humiliating task and escape his suffocating presence.


"What's wrong, Elara? Cat got your tongue?" Rhys taunted. "You seemed so confident just moments ago."


His words triggered a memory so painful that I froze, napkin pressed against his chest. Two and a half years ago. My first heat after leaving Silver Moon Pack. I'd been alone in a shabby motel room, curled into a ball on sweat-soaked sheets, my body on fire with need that couldn't be satisfied.


The Alpha's Bitter Words, The Hybrid's Bold Taunt