Billy The Butcher Novels & Stories

I was the lowest omega in the pack—the girl who scrubbed floors with wolfsbane‑burned hands, the chew‑toy everyone kicked when they were bored. Then, on the night of the Moon Choosing, the impossible happened. The Moon Goddess marked me as mate to Prince Lucian Nightbane—heir to the throne, the golden prince every she‑wolf dreamed of. For one breathless moment, I believed my hell was over. But when Lucian scented my sister, he lost his mind. In front of the entire court, he rejected our sacred bond, called me unworthy, and raised my “perfect” sister as his future Luna instead. His punishment for me? “Since the Goddess insists on chaining you to my bloodline,” he sneered, “you’ll marry my uncle. The Bastard Alpha. The Butcher of Blackthorn.” Everyone knew the stories about Alpha Kael Draven —the king’s ruthless brother, the beast who bathed battlefields in blood. They said I was walking into a marriage of ruin and waited for the day he would break me. Instead, the monster pulled me against his scarred chest and growled: > “They threw you to the beast, little omega. > They forgot the beast still answers to the Moon. > From this moment, you are my Luna. My mate. My little wolf. > And I don’t share.” Kael crowned me before the fiercest warriors, kissed every scar they mocked, and worshipped every inch I’d been taught to hide. Now the prince who broke me wants me back—and my ruthless Alpha is willing to kill a prince for me. Will I crawl back as the prince’s discarded consort… or rise as the Bastard Alpha’s beloved little wolf, powerful enough to tear down a crown for love?

“Cassie Vaughn. Failed to crawl into my bed, so you started stealing from my casino?” The giant screen lit up. Every inch of it was covered with my nude photos. “Holy shit. A janitor actually thought she could seduce Lucien Moretti?” “She wanted to climb the ladder so badly she started stealing dirty casino money?” I was shaking with rage. The moment I said, “Those are AI-generated,” the entire room burst into laughter. “You think Lucien Moretti would fake photos for trash like you?” The next second, Lucien slid a phone across the poker table toward me. “Thirty million dollars from my casino.” “How exactly are you planning to pay that back?” But only I knew the truth. Lucien himself had stolen that money. I had simply seen it happen. On the screen, my parents hung from chains inside a warehouse, blood covering their faces. A document titled Organ Valuation Agreement was pushed in front of me. “Sign it.” “Or your parents die.” I fought with everything I had. Still, they dragged me toward the crocodile pit. Then I opened my eyes again. I was back at the poker table. Across from me, the butcher himself lazily rolled casino chips between his fingers. And on the giant screen behind him, my AI-generated nudes were still playing. He smirked. “Still trying to seduce me?” I lowered my eyes and checked the time. Forty-three minutes remained before I would be thrown into the crocodile pit. But I smiled. Lucien Moretti. This time—we’re gambling with your life.

In the late stages of her pregnancy, my wife slipped away into the mountains with her childhood sweetheart, seeking some reckless thrill under the open sky. Fate, however, had other plans. She suffered a massive hemorrhage, and the two were rushed to the hospital. As a doctor, I took one glance at her condition and instructed the nurse to prepare for the cremation. In my previous life, I had risked everything to save her. On that very operating table, she and the child inside her perished together. Her childhood sweetheart, overcome with grief and fury, rallied others to accuse me of seeking personal revenge. Their rage was relentless, and they broke my hands. "A butcher like you, without medical ethics, deserves nothing less than eternal damnation!" they shouted, their words burning like brands on my soul. Yet I distinctly remembered—the surgery had been a success. Her vital signs had stabilized. Clinging to hope, I begged my in-laws to conduct an autopsy, to uncover the truth buried beneath the accusations. Instead, they called the police, who swiftly charged me with performing surgery under the influence of alcohol. Stripped of my rights, I was thrown into prison, where suffering became my only companion. Years later, upon release, I stumbled across a sight that tore what was left of my heart to shreds—my wife, alive and well, behind the wheel of a luxury car, accompanied by her childhood sweetheart and their child, living off the fortune I had worked tirelessly to build. Their betrayal didn't end there. Coldly and methodically, they lured me into a trap, casting me into a cement mixer to erase every trace of my existence. When I next opened my eyes, time had rewound itself. I was back on that fateful day, the one when her hemorrhage began.

By the time I hit twenty without a husband, I'd become the joke of Butcher's Alley. I wasn't about to just take it, so I marched out to the pauper's graveyard and dragged home a half-dead man I found there. He was gorgeous. More handsome than any portrait I'd ever seen. It didn't matter that he'd lost his memory and wasn't quite right in the head. It didn't matter that he couldn't lift a crate or carry a load, that he nearly fainted dead away the first time he watched me slaughter a pig. I slapped my knee and made up my mind. "You're the one. You handle looking pretty, and I'll handle bringing home the bacon." I named him Walt and treated him like he was made of glass. I fed him well, kept him comfortable, and slowly nursed him back to health until his cheeks were full and his skin was soft. Then I started planning the wedding. On our wedding night, I'd just gotten his wedding coat off when the front door flew off its hinges. Hundreds of royal guards dropped to their knees all at once, their voices shaking the walls. "Welcome back to the capital, Grand Chancellor!" I looked down at the man beneath me. The warmth in his eyes was gone, replaced by something cold and sharp. The belt I'd been holding snapped right in two. I was done for. I'd been bossing around the most powerful man in the empire for six months and using him as a house husband. Was I looking at death by slow torture, or would they wipe out my entire family?