Anakin Skywalker Burned

Introduction At my mating ceremony with Blake Morrison, the Alpha heir I'd loved for eight years, his childhood sweetheart texted him a pregnancy test photo. He didn't hesitate for a second. He canceled our mating ceremony and rushed off to take care of his childhood sweetheart. After he left the ceremony hall, his childhood sweetheart posted photos on the big screen behind me. Photos of the two of them tangled together in my bedroom. Then Blake sent me a message: "I was drunk that night. Ivy is carrying my child, and I need to be there for her." "She wanted to hide the pregnancy and raise the pup alone, but she's an Omega. It's too hard for an Omega to raise a child by herself, especially when she's competing to be the Pack's Head Healer... I can't ruin her future, and I can't abandon an innocent life." "You're an Alpha wolf. High-ranking wolves don't get pregnant easily, and you've always wanted children quickly, right? After she gives birth, I'll arrange for her to study advanced healing at the Alliance. You can raise the child, and they'll only know you as their mother." When I didn't reply, he added another message: "The official marking and re-scheduling our mating ceremony will have to wait until after Ivy gives birth." I stared at my phone screen, laughing until my eyes burned with tears. I was the only Alpha heiress of the Stormfang Pack, the strongest pack in Southern territories. Did he really think that I had no choice but to pick him as my mate? I dialed the Alpha King Kane Blackwood's number directly: "Are you still willing to be my mate?"

For ten years, Alpha Ryker was my mate. And for ten years, he slept with other she-wolves. Every time he touched another woman, the mate bond burned through me like a brand. Still, I played the part of the dutiful Luna. I stood by his side. His excuse? The pack needed a strong heir. A past injury had broken my wolf, leaving me barren. He claimed any pup I conceived would be too weak to survive. But when he brought home his 100th conquest, a she-wolf named Lorelei, I finally broke. I saw the love in his eyes for her. I felt his wolf stir. It was different. He hurt me, abandoned me for her, again and again. He even destroyed my ten-year-old moonflower garden because of her. I couldn't take the nightly agony anymore. I asked him to sever our bond. The first time I asked for a rejection ceremony, he panicked. He begged me with red-rimmed eyes not to leave. I tearfully agreed, still clinging to him. But then he left my side to comfort Lorelei after she had a nightmare. I asked ten, twenty, thirty more times. He grew numb. By the fiftieth time, he just sneered. "Enough, Carys. You're a she-wolf with a dormant inner wolf. Being my Luna is the best you'll ever get. You can't leave me." But he didn't know. He had already signed our rejection papers. In three days, our mate bond would be gone for good. And my phone held an ultrasound of twin pups, along with another message. "The full moon is in three days. We'll have our mating ceremony then."

Evangeline Grace Meadow. Everything about her life was going so perfectly—almost exactly as she had planned in her notebook—and she was proud of all the achievements she had gained in her 27 years of life. Getting a job as a full-time doctor at Seattle's largest hospital, living in the luxury apartment that every person in Seattle dreams of, having a handsome fiancé who loves her—at least that's what she believes. However, her perfect life turns into the most painful misfortune when she finds out her fiancé is cheating on her in front of her eyes. Until one night, when she was trying to release all her pain, she met a mysterious man with a sharp smile and eyes as blue as the Caribbean sea. A brief encounter. A brief conversation. That man—Exel… his touch... his gaze... his fingers that gripped tightly in the most perfect spot Eve could imagine. All of it burned Eve to the bone—making her willingly beg for the next touch. Unfortunately, both Eve and Exel know that their brief encounter on that one hot night will never happen again—and there shouldn't be. Yet again, one short night managed to change her life. She meets Exel again under... very different situation that makes them bond because of her pregnancy that happened without them knowing it. So what happens when Eve finds out that Exel's life isn't as beautiful as his smile? Not as bright as the light of his eyes. Instead, Exel lives in the darkest underground life—a life full of danger and real horror. But what if Eve was curious about those dangers? What if she was tempted by the sweet sin Exel's offered? * * * When Everyone called her Eve because her name was Evangeline, but he called her Angel because she is his real angel.

In my last life, my brother Leo—the heir to the Moretti crime family—stripped our estate bare of every last soldier, all for a Vegas jaunt. All because his new flame, Scarlett, had a jones for the high-roller tables. The Volkovs—our rivals, the very ones Leo had just pissed off—saw their opening and stormed our gates. My mother, Sofia, took a bullet meant for me. Died protecting me. I blew up Leo’s phone, my pleas turning to screams. He didn't answer. He waltzed back in after the shooting stopped, bringing our men home, but far too late for it to matter. Then, the news from Vegas. Scarlett was gone. A suicide note left behind. In it, she painted me as the monster. The one who’d leaked our weaknesses to the Volkovs. The one who'd orchestrated a fake kidnapping and torture plot, all to drive her to despair and lure Leo home. A perfect, tragic lie. Leo read the letter calmly. Then he burned the letter and told me, "Forget it. It's handled." Father tore into Leo for abandoning his post, for leaving his family to die. And me? I was named the new Consigliere. But after the celebration, Leo cornered me in the wine cellar. His face was a mask of cold fury as he pressed the barrel of his gun to my forehead. "This is for family traitors," he hissed, his voice pure venom. "The throne is my birthright, not some backstabbing bitch's prize!" When I opened my eyes again, I was back. Right in the middle of the fire and the blood. This time, I shoved my mother behind me, dragging her toward the panic room. And the bastards who were too blind to believe me? They’ll regret it.

It was just another morning commute—until he happened. Across the train aisle sat a man who looked like he’d stepped out of a high-end magazine and straight into a power struggle. His voice sliced through the air, sharp and commanding, as he chewed someone out over the phone like he ran the damn universe. Arrogant. Entitled. Dressed like a Wall Street god. Correction: he looked like a god. That’s where the charm ended—or so I thought. When the train screeched to a stop, he stood up in a hurry, stormed off… and left his phone behind. Did I pick it up? Yep. Did I snoop? Absolutely. Photos, contacts, a few mysterious texts—I couldn’t help myself. Did I keep it longer than I should’ve, building stories in my head about the man behind the voice? Yeah… I did that too. When I finally gathered enough nerve to return it, I marched into the glass-and-steel fortress he called an office. He wouldn’t even come out to meet me. So I dropped his phone on the desk outside his office door. And maybe—I left a photo on it first. Not exactly the professional kind. What I didn’t expect? A message. From him. What followed were late-night texts that burned hotter than anything I’d ever known. Words became whispers. Whispers turned into fantasies. I was falling—for someone I hadn’t even really met. He and I? Total opposites. Fire and ice. Chaos and control. But when we finally came face to face, it wasn’t just sparks. It was an inferno. What happened next? Let’s just say… falling for him was the easy part. Surviving what came after? That’s where the real story began.

He called me disposable. The Tribunal called me property. They both forgot what Lunaris does to cages. I was the Alpha’s kept woman for five years—his secret, his softness, his sin. Then, the night his missing Luna returned, Alpha Daire Vhaloren stood on the balcony with a cigarette dangling from his fingers and told me, without even looking, “You should go” So I did. Obedient. Quiet. Disposable. I left with his gifts, a deed to a house… and a secret I never planned to carry. Three months later, headlines screamed that Daire’s empire had collapsed. Frostveil Manor sealed. Nightmoor Covenant assets set for auction. The woman he “chose” over me, Calista Dravenne, smiled for the cameras like she hadn’t just burned his world to the ground. I tried to stay gone. Until the High Howl Tribunal branded me a recoverable asset and announced a “live appraisal” of Lot One—the pregnant omega they swore belonged to them. I went back for answers. What I found wasn’t the untouchable Alpha who dismissed me. It was a man with stubble on his jaw, a hunted kind of murder in his eyes… and a voice that made my knees weak when he said, “Why are you here, Elowen?” Because he rejected me once. Because he replaced me. Because he doesn’t know the truth. And because the bond he tried to throw away is coming for us both—along with the child he never knew I was carrying. Now Daire wants a contract marriage to save what’s left of his pack. I want revenge… and protection. But when an Alpha realizes the woman he discarded is his fated mate—and the lost heir of House Lunaris—he doesn’t beg politely. He hunts. ---

Jaroch, my mate, had a twin brother, Torma, who was the Gamma of the Shadow Grove Pack. Torma was born with exceptional combat abilities. After Torma died, my mother-in-law, Neradia, feared losing influence in the pack. She forced Jaroch to assume Torma's identity and take over as Gamma. To keep the lie from unraveling, she ordered Jaroch to sleep nightly with his widowed sister-in-law, Lezah, hoping they'd produce a pup. I was furious and protested against it. Neradia slapped me hard across the face. "As long as Lezah doesn't remarry, your husband will continue to be the Gamma. You'll enjoy endless wealth and glory too," she said. I thought Jaroch would refuse, but he had no problem tossing morality aside and getting into bed with Lezah. The worst part was that they flaunted their love right in front of me. When Lezah got pregnant, I decided I'd had enough. I wanted to leave with my daughter, Sylvia Cardin. Instead, Jaroch locked me in a room and went on a family vacation with everyone else but me. That was when a pack of rogues broke into our home. They robbed us, set fire to the house, and were about to kill everyone. I called Jaroch in a panic and begged for help, but he replied in an irritated voice, "Bityah, stop making a scene. Just behave! "Lezah agreed to get along with you. You should learn from her and be more considerate. "From now on, I'll spend Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays with you. Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays are hers." He then hung up. The house burned to the ground, and I died in the fire. He had already severed our mate bond. He didn't even sense that I was gone. Only Sylvia cried out in the flames. "Mommy! Mommy, please don't leave me!"

On the day that was supposed to be my wedding—the bride wasn’t me. The ceremony I’d waited for five years for turned into a joke when Valentina, my sister, walked down the marble aisle in a white wedding dress. Her arm was linked with Luca’s — the man who was supposed to be waiting for me at the altar. “I’m sorry, Bianca,” she said softly. “But you are no longer the bride today.” Then she touched her stomach, eyes gleaming with triumph. “I’m pregnant with Don Romano’s child.” Her words detonated inside my skull, and the whole world went silent. As if afraid I wouldn’t believe her, she lifted something glossy up towards the light. A black-and-white ultrasound image. It read clearly: Gestational age — 12 weeks. My eyes burned, tears stinging as I turned to Luca, desperately searching for anything—a denial, an explanation, regret. Instead, he only sighed, weary and resigned. “Bianca, I’m sorry.” he said helplessly. “Valentina doesn’t have much time left. This wedding… it was her last wish.” “I’ll make it up to you,” he added. “We can have another wedding later.” My father, Moretti, stood behind him, wearing the same stern expression he’d worn my entire life. I have never seen him smile at me, not even once. “Bianca,” he said sharply, “Your sister is dying. Let her have this.” My brother nodded without saying a single word, as if that was enough to be a solid answer. All my life, they had chosen her—her tears, her whims, her needs—over mine. Today was no different. Something inside me quietly cracked. Fine. If no one in this family cares about me, I’ll leave.

“Are you a virgin?” It should have embarrassed her. Instead, the raw restraint in his eyes made her heart tremble. “Yes,” she whispered. “But don’t stop. Please.” …. "I have only three conditions," he stated, his voice as cold as the diamond on her finger. "First, I can’t stand clingy women. Second, falling in love with me is strictly forbidden. And third? Whoever we choose to sleep with is our own business." … Three years ago, Ashley Barton made a bargain she could never truly win. To secure her freedom, she buried her true identity and lived as an omega, all to make Alpha Rowan fall in love with her for who she was. On the night they were meant to complete their mating, Ashley walked into hell. Her best friend was tangled in the sheets with the man who was supposed to claim her. Ashley ran. Under the full moon, raw with grief and desperation, fate found her anyway. In the wilderness, she collided with a powerful Alpha, dangerous, dominant, and unreadable. Pain blurred into desire. The bond snapped into place. He marked her. Claimed her. Bound their souls together in blood and moonlight. By dawn, he was gone. Just the echo of his presence and the weight of his mark burned into her skin left. She was humiliated and cast out like trash. That was when Ashley broke. She went home, bowed her head, and accepted the arranged marriage she had once sworn to escape. Fate, however, was unkind. Her fiancé was the very Alpha who had claimed and marked her, yet when they met again, he did not recognize her at all. To him, she was a stranger. Instead, he offered her a one-year contract marriage, cold, controlled, and bound by rules meant to suffocate emotion.

I fought my sister, Anna, for two lifetimes to become the Donna. In my first life, I got what I wanted. I became Lorenzo's woman. People said he loved me as if I were the air in his lungs. When he learned that I loved to dance, he bought an entire ballet company to keep me onstage. Then he broke my legs. He confined me to a wheelchair and displayed me like an ornament. One day, he brushed his fingers across my face and finally told me the truth. "I've seen enough dancing," he said. "And the one I truly love was never you." I died in that room, swallowed by despair. In my second life, I stepped aside and gave the Donna's seat to Anna. "You go," I told her. "The one Lorenzo really loves is you." I believed that choice would save us. I believed Anna would have the happy ending I never did. Five years later, they sent her back. Her legs were intact this time, but she couldn’t move them either. Lorenzo no longer treated her as a person. He had turned her into a ballerina statue, encased in plaster and posed at what he called her most beautiful moment, frozen in place. His men delivered the message without a trace of feeling. "He got tired of watching the younger sister dance," they said. "So he preserved her at her most beautiful." When I opened my eyes again, I found myself in my third life. Once more, the Don's men delivered a ballet invitation. Anna and I stared at it. The same question burned in both of us. If neither of us was the one he loved, then who was Lorenzo really watching?