Historias cortas de Bias Werewolf y novelas ambientadas en Female Growth

There's this unspoken rule in werewolf high society: no matter how tight the mate bond is, business banquets mean booking a hostess. Six years into our bond, my Alpha mate—Brian Stormclaw—met one. Louise. A scrappy Omega with too much pride and not enough sense. When he offered her his black card, she pushed it back and said, "I'm not some Alpha's pampered pet." Brian? Instantly hooked. Like the Moon Goddess herself had dropped her in his lap. He chased her like he wanted her mark on every pack crest. But he forgot something—I was the Luna he wrote ninety-nine love letters to before I said yes. I didn't beg. Didn't snap. Every time he chose her over me, I lit another letter. First one burned on our anniversary—he bailed to wait outside Louise's flower shop, just to walk her home. Letter thirty-four? He left me stranded in a dangerous hunting ground to keep her company. Said she was scared of the dark. Fifty-two? Torched the second he replaced our wedding photo with some sketch she made on. ... And when the ninety-ninth turned to ash, so did whatever was left of us. I walked away. For good.

My Alpha mate secretly marked me for three years. I helped him manage the pack as a Beta and even helped him successfully run for Alpha King. But after the successful election, he publicly announced that his Omega assistant Scarlett was the one who helped him the most. "I'm announcing that 15% of our territory will be placed under Stella's management. From today forward, Stella's position in the pack will be second only to mine." With two simple sentences, he'd erased twelve years of my efforts. But my mate thought I was making a mountain out of a molehill. "I just showed a little extra care for the pack's Omega," he said dismissively. "My body never strayed. You're acting like I committed some unforgivable sin." I turned and left, aborted our child and proposed a mate bond severance agreement. Then, I called a number that I hadn't contacted for 12 years. “I regret it. I am willing to be the Alpha of your pack.”

At the full moon party before our marking ceremony, my mate Lucas got wasted. I went to pick him up, just like we agreed. Only to walk in on him burying his face in his first love’s neck, marking her with his scent. "Don't ever leave me again, Willow. My wolf only wants you." His first love shot me a triumphant smirk and shoved him into my arms. "Your mate is here. You should go." But Lucas, hiding behind his drunkenness, just looked at me with disgust. "You're the only one for me, Willow! She's just some lowly half-blood Omega. She's just my ride home, don't worry about her." I swallowed my humiliation and took him home, only to find out he wasn't drunk at all. He claimed he only said those things to appease Willow, for the sake of her pack's power. I just turned away. So on the day we were supposed to be bound for life, I ran. If Lucas was still hung up on his first love, then I would grant him his wish and disappear. But I never expected that after I left, he would lose his mind, crying and begging for me to come back.

After my rebirth, I vow to stop clinging to my fated mate—the man I grew up with—Damon Hale. When he gathers all the healers in the pack for a party in Alohara, I book a flight to Harborwatch. When he complains that my scent makes him and his wolf sick, I move out and hire a deep-cleaning service for 500 dollars. When he orders me to stay away from his pack, I quit my job as Alpha's private healer and take up freelance work in Coghaven to support myself. Finally, he says my existence might mislead his precious stepsister into thinking he still cares for me. So, I nod and accept Coghaven Alpha's hand in marriage, along with the keys to an 18-million-dollar villa as my wedding gift. Not until the very last moment of my previous life did I realize… he had always loved his stepsister. In this life, I’ll let you be together—and from now on, I’ll live for myself alone.

"Here's 1 million dollars. Take it, leave the Star Moon Pack, and go somewhere my son will never find you." My boyfriend's mother looked at me with scorn as she handed over a check. If this had happened in the past, I would have told her that I loved her son—not because he was an Alpha, not for the title of Luna, and certainly not for his family's vast fortune. I loved him because of the deep bond we shared. I was carrying his pup. We were supposed to become mates and build a happy life together. But now, he was about to hold a bonding ceremony with another woman. He was planning to mark her and let her bear his pup. He said it was all just to appease the Pack's elders and his parents. What they didn't know was that as the daughter of the Alpha of the Golden River Pack, I'd never need a bond to gain status, power, or wealth. So now that he'd chosen someone else, the only thing left for me to do was to walk away with dignity.

After I finished the Luna training that every she-wolf dreamed, I went to my Alpha, Damien, with a request. To break our mate bond. "All this, just because I missed your ceremony to help my late brother's mate, Lilith, with the rogues in her territory?" A smirk twisted his lips, his voice a low rasp. I nodded, silent. "I gave my brother my word before he died. I swore I would protect Lilith. I can't break that vow! Why can't you understand?" he whispered, sighing heavily. "Stop being so childish! Why can't you be reasonable, like Lilith is?" I pushed him away with a chilling calm. Ten years. For ten years after our bond was confirmed, I gave up everything. Every hobby, every dream… all to learn how to be his Luna. Everyone in the pack thought I was helpless without him. That I couldn't even survive without his protection. But this time, I was done. He didn't know I'd already contacted the neutral packs in another land. I was going somewhere his Alpha scent could never reach me.

I was ten when my Omega mother mated the Alpha of the Blackwood Pack. My stepbrother, Draven, never let me forget how I’d diluted their pure blood. With his silent blessing, the entire pack became a weapon to carry out his hate. During a full moon hunt, he gave the nod. That's all it took. His followers "accidentally" pushed me in front of a raging stag. I felt its antlers rip my shoulder open. He looked down at me, his golden eyes dripping with scorn. “Don’t think you’re one of us just because your mother latched onto my father. Weaklings get culled. And I’ll be the one to kick you off my land.” At his command, they'd ruin my offerings to the Moon Goddess. They shredded my coming-of-age gown with silver blades. Through it all, my mother would only look at me with shame. My stepfather, the great Alpha, just saw me as a troublesome brat. I made myself small, desperate for a scrap of kindness. But it only made me the pack outcast. Hated and completely alone. Until Draven’s best friend, Liam—the Alpha heir to the Rage River Pack—showed interest in me at the werewolf academy. For the first time ever, Draven left me alone. I thought Liam was my only light in the darkness. On my birthday, I gave myself to him completely. The next day, I overheard him talking to Draven. Draven’s voice was low, laced with venom. “Did you get the video? Of the half-blood losing control mid-fuck?” Liam chuckled. “Of course. Gotta admit, she feels amazing. So soft… a real temptation. Almost got me hooked. But just in bed. The thought of her dirty blood…If it wasn’t to help you get even, I would’ve never touched a weak-blooded Omega like her.” I clamped a hand over my mouth, tears streaming down my face. My only hope was a lie. But they didn't know. I’d already applied to the Valeriana Werewolf Institute. And I wasn’t coming back.

On the morning of my eighteenth birthday, I collapsed in the pack clinic after my ninety-ninth blood donation to my twin sister, Maeve. She'd been cursed since birth—a curse that could only be sustained by my blood. Our shared bond from the womb was the only thing keeping the dark magic at bay. When I woke up, the healer told me I had developed Aplastic anemia—a rare condition where my bone marrow was failing. Years of constant donations had finally broken my body down, and my wolf, Aurora, was too weak to fight it. I rushed to tell my family, hoping that this time would be different, only to find them at the bakery ordering a custom birthday cake with only Maeve's name on it. They'd forgotten my birthday entirely, even though we were twins born five minutes apart. At first, my sacrifice was met with love and praise. Now, it was nothing more than an obligation everyone expected. My family had chosen Maeve over me countless times before. This time, I decided to choose myself. I had two weeks before I would slip away from this pack house and their lives. Two weeks to prepare everything in silence while they remained oblivious. They would think I'd finally learned my place as Maeve's blood supply. But they would never realize I was counting down the days until I disappeared from their lives forever. By then, it would be too late.

Our pack was forcibly dissolved for provoking a war. The Werewolf Council issued a new decree. All young wolves who hadn't participated in the war were required to undergo a heart blood extraction within one month to complete an aggression gene screening. Those who passed could join a new pack. Those who didn't would be expelled and cast out as rogues. Sophia, a white wolf, suddenly claimed that her father was the chairman of the Werewolf Council. She said she could get her father to exempt everyone from the screening and grant them unconditional entry into the Blackstone Pack. Our friends believed her and simply waited for her to lead them into the new pack. I urged everyone to complete the screening as a backup plan. That irritated Sophia. She mocked me for being clueless and making everyone suffer for nothing. "Some of them might carry the aggression gene. If they fail the screening, are you going to take responsibility?" My boyfriend Silas said I was too jealous and didn't want anyone else to have it good. Left with no choice, I reported what was happening in the pack to the Council. Sophia was immediately stripped of her membership for identity fraud and obstruction of the merger. Without the pack's protection, she died in the wilderness. At the time, every member of the pack said she deserved what she got and thanked me for saving them. But after we entered the new territory, Silas stabbed me with a silver dagger. Not a single pack member standing by lifted a finger to help me. "All we had to do was endure a little pain from the blood draw. Sophia lost her life!" When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Sophia declared herself the chairman's daughter.

The witch's prophecy crystal showed me my future. My fated mate, Alpha Adam, would betray me before our bond was ever sealed. The one he chose instead? My own sister. And me? I gave up my healer trials for him. Became nothing. Lost every right to ever stand as this pack's Luna. In the end, my sister shoved me off a cliff with her own two hands. I didn't want to believe it, until I saw them at the border. Tangled. Kissing. Unmistakable. Then it all clicked. Adam made me quit the healer trials just to keep me trapped in this pack, where he could control me. And he used that pathetic excuse, "protecting the pack," "calming your sister's wolf," to screw around behind my back. The sister I spoiled rotten. The one who wanted what was mine. I took a breath, turned, and walked away. The healer trials came right on schedule. I walked into that hall, calm and ready— I was going to become the Chief Healer. And I was never, ever giving myself up for anyone again.

The Blackwood Pack had a rule: no outsider was ever allowed to touch a newborn pureblood pup. So when my fated mate Damon Cross's childhood friend Yvonne Morgan reached for one of their sacred cubs, I stopped her. Yvonne decided I was being petty, that I was trying to humiliate her in front of everyone. So she ran off crying, tripped, and fell into a bog. By the time anyone found her, she was gone. Damon was convinced I'd done it on purpose—that I'd planned to get rid of Yvonne Morgan. He had me bound and locked in that basement dungeon for three days and three nights. Every hour felt like a year. "This is all your fault, you jealous witch. If it weren't for you, Yvonne would still be here!" "You're going to pay for what you did. Rot in there and think about it." I clawed my way out—dug a tunnel with my bare hands. I was so close. The night I finally broke free, Damon gave the order to have me thrown into the No-Man's-Land wolf pit. Then I opened my eyes. I was back. The night of the Full Moon Gala.

My little sister Vanessa was obsessed with werewolf lore, convinced she was destined to marry a powerful Alpha. When Rex, the Alpha of the Firwood Pack, saved her during a riot, she thought fate had finally set its gears in motion. What she didn't know was that Rex saved her simply because she resembled what his fated mate had looked like in her youth— Helena, the Luna of the Firwood Pack. Any sane woman would've walked away. Vanessa saw it as her golden ticket to the top. She secretly mapped out Helena's usual routes, hired outlaws to stage a brutal car crash, and sprinkled silver dust—lethal to wolves—across the wreckage. Her plan? Wait for the esteemed Luna to draw her last breath, then step in as the "first witness who risked her life to help," climbing over the body to claim her place. Vanessa was convinced that once Helena was gone, she'd be the next Luna. In my past life, I snatched the keys before she could move, locked her in her room, and begged her to come to her senses. Rex wasn't some lovestruck wolf from those cross-species romance novels—he was the iron-fisted Alpha who ruled the entire territory. A wolf's mate bond was carved into the soul. If he ever uncovered the truth, he wouldn't just tear her apart—he'd reduce our entire human family to ash. Vanessa nodded through her tears, swearing she'd let it go. But that night, she drove a silver blade straight through my heart. As I lay dying, she leaned in and whispered: "You ruined my chance to be Luna, Eileen. So you had to die." When I opened my eyes again, I was back in the moment she made her move.

After our pack lost the war, the survivors spent two years on the run. In the third year, the Wolf Council passed a decree allowing us to be absorbed into new packs. But there was a catch—we had to pass the Trials, a specialized test designed to test our physical fitness, reflexes, and overall abilities. Those who passed would be accepted. Those who didn't would be cast out as rogues for good. One month before the Trials, Vera Cross burst into the gathering, her voice trembling with excitement. "Everyone, stop preparing! I got a spell from a witch—just chant it in your head during the Trials, and you'll pass for sure!" She grinned and pulled out a record. "My friend Lily already took these exact Trials during her pack's routine check last month. She didn't prep at all—just chanted this spell in her head. And guess what? She passed." The record got passed around. Cheers erupted. Last life, I tried to warn them. Told them the official Trials would block all spellwork—that using it would flag them as anomalies, get their qualifications revoked on the spot, and dump them straight into rogue status. No one listened. So I reported the situation to the Council. Vera got her membership revoked. Died out in the wilds. Back then, every single pack member said she deserved it. Thanked me for saving them. But after we settled into the new pack, they cornered me. Doused me in gasoline. Burned me alive. "If you'd just kept your mouth shut, she'd still be alive!" When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the exact moment Vera was rallying everyone to give up on prep.