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When the Alpha Lost His Human Childhood Sweetheart

When the Alpha Lost His Human Childhood Sweetheart

At two in the morning, when the pack elders' urgent summons came, I had just crawled out from beneath my childhood sweetheart, the Alpha heir Slade. My body was still aching from his rough possession. As the only human healer in the entire Blackwood Pack, I was ordered to prepare herbs as a gift for Slade's marriage alliance with the Thorne Pack. I gently lifted Slade's arm from where it was wrapped around me. After a night of passion, his powerful Alpha body was still radiating a feverish heat. I assumed this was just another wolf princess he needed to turn away, so I poked his chest playfully and asked with a smile, "Slade, what excuse are you going to use the 99th time? That you've suddenly developed an allergy to the princess?" He rolled over and kissed my forehead, his eyes heavy with sleep. "My sweet girl, this time the herbs must be prepared by you, and you alone. The success of this alliance rests on your shoulders." I froze. For the past ten years, I had been his secret solace, the one who soothed his violent rages every night. I thought I would earn a formal bonding ceremony, sooner or later. But in that moment, I understood. I was just a convenience, a body for him to use. If that was all I was to him, then I would burn everything we had to the ground. I made a call to my old mentor at the National Institute of Medicine, Professor Sterling. "Professor, that research position regarding gene... is it still open? I'm ready to return to the human world." But when that arrogant Alpha, who claimed we were 'just friends' and 'strictly professional,' discovered he could no longer catch even a faint scent of me in the air, he completely lost his mind.
Short Story · Werewolf
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Contract Marriage To The Alpha King

Contract Marriage To The Alpha King

Ava Sinclair is drowning in debt, desperate to save her critically ill twin brother. With nowhere else to turn, she seeks help from Damian Blackwood—her ruthless, emotionless CEO. But Damian has problems of his own. As an Alpha who despises women, he’s being pressured by his powerful grandmother to marry within a week. Furious, he vows to marry on his terms. A drunken call mistakenly connects him to Ava, where he demands she find him a woman. She misunderstands, insults him, and calls him a pervert. The next day, Damian summons her, revealing he knows about her financial struggles. He offers her a deal—marry him in exchange for clearing all her debts. Ava agrees but sets strict conditions: no touching, no mistresses in their home, and no breaking the contract. Damian smirks, thinking it will be an easy arrangement—until his wolf stirs at her presence. Despite his hatred for Omegas, his possessiveness grows. His wolf whispers, She is ours. Mark her. But Damian refuses to accept it. His past—his mother’s betrayal—fuels his loathing for the mate bond. Yet, Ava fights back against his dominance, defying him at every turn. Tension simmers, jealousy flares, and his control begins to shatter. When a rival Alpha targets Ava, Damian is forced into battle—not just against his enemies, but himself. In a moment of desperation, his wolf takes over. He realizes too late—Ava is his mate. But she’s gone. Kidnapped. Enraged, Damian unleashes his fury, tearing through his enemies. When he finally gets her back, she is broken, unwilling to trust him. For the first time, Damian Blackwood begs. "Give me one chance, Ava." But she won’t be caged. Now, he must fight—not as an Alpha, but as a man in love.
Werewolf
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My Mate's Mistress Regretted Stealing My Exclusive Ride

My Mate's Mistress Regretted Stealing My Exclusive Ride

I got a car straight from the Lycan Chairman himself—a ride costs more than tens of millions and can turn every traffic light green. I got it because the Lycan Chairman once fell on the battlefield, his heart torn open. And me? I'm the one bound to him by a blood-sealed contract, the only secret healer who could save his life. To win me golden hour for surgeries, I was awarded with such an honored ride. I treated it like sacred ground, kept it hidden in my mate Yorick's underground garage, polished and guarded, ready for the day the Lycan Chairman might need me again. That day came. The summons burned in my hand, urgent and sharp. I rushed to the garage, ready to drive, and the second I approached the garage, a strange woman slid into the back seat. "Take me to the Nighty Bar," she ordered, flipping her hair. "Yorick had waited for me minutes. If he's mad at me being late, I'll make you regret it." My hands froze on the wheel. "This is my car," I told her, calm but firm. "I have urgent business. You need to get out. Now." She sneered. "What a joke. A chauffeur pretending to be the owner? You must have a death wish." Her soldiers glanced at me sideways, voice dripping with disdain. "Everyone in the pack knows that this car is Alpha's exclusive for picking up Selene! You're just a little healer. Do yourself a favor and listen to her." Their words cut sharper than any blade. The car that carried the highest secret of the werewolf race, the car tied to the Chairman's very heartbeat, in their mouths, it was nothing more than a toy. A plaything my mate used to please another she-wolf. They wanted me to bow. To surrender. To sit there, silent, while they spat on me. But what they didn't know, the Lycan Chairman's soldiers were already on their way.
Short Story · Werewolf
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