Once Cast-off Wife, Now Untouchable Queen Novels & Stories

I stood in front of the gate of the estate I couldn't leave and I looked at the man who wouldn't let me leave it and I thought about Carter and his daughter and the playing card and the hand in the box and the four minutes outside these walls. "I understand," I said. He looked at me for a moment longer. Then he turned and walked back toward the house. I stood at the gate for another moment. Beyond the iron bars the street was quiet and empty and entirely ordinary looking — the kind of street that appeared in no one's nightmares, that gave no indication of what moved through the city behind its ordinary face. The Monkey Group was out there. Reassessing. Receiving a box. And in here — behind t

They were glorious in their shared sorrow, a united front against the world she had tried to poison. A tear, indistinguishable from the perpetual seepage from her injured eye, traced a path through the grime on her cheek. The tray trembled. She was not a guest, not a mourner, not even a spectator. She was the help, the woman from the pig sties, who allowed a fleeting glimpse of the paradise from which she was eternally exiled. The master's wife, noticing her stillness, shooed her away with a sharp, contemptuous wave. "Go on. Back to the sties where you belong or do you want to take my husband and kill me?" she snapped, a reminder that no one had forgotten her past.

He stumbled back, attracting the attention of some people aroind but I didn't care. In that moment, I noticed the gaze of a man upstairs. He was clad in all black and I didn't even take the time to fully observe him because I still had Jasver to take care of. “I still don't know how you cheat on your wife, and then double down to chase after her, despite being with your mistress! Get a fucking life Jasver!” I barked. Jasver's face cracked with shame as he looked around, noticing the way people stared at us. He wanted drama? There it was.

I’ve never wanted to make it official with anyone, well, except Adriana. Even when her stupid, incompetent father had tried to marry her off to me. There wasn’t really confirmation since the wedding never happened. And all the other episodes. We didn’t get married. She hasn’t been given an official title. Now that would change. Tonight, she’ll be the woman on my arm which everyone is curious about. And soon, she’ll be known as my wife. The Lycan queen. My queen. “Let go of me,” Adriana snaps through gritted teeth as she pulls away from my hold. Or should I say, attempt to.

Instead, she uncovered a truth that made her stomach twist with dread: Marcelline wasn’t the fragile girl locked in a marriage cage. She was a queen forged by fire, and her return meant every throne was at risk.

A far cry from the woman who spent the last three years trying to earn affection from a man who never saw her worth. Her reflection in the mirror caught her attention. How did she fall from this… to that? From being the cherished daughter to the unwanted wife... what a downgrade really, Lara. Her chest ached, but she didn’t cry. She let out a breath—part exhaustion, part clarity. Never again, she vowed silently. She’ll never let herself feel that worthless again.

I shot him a glare that could’ve melted steel. The one with a buzz cut crouched beside me and slowly untied the gag. “Speak now, princess. One time offer.” I coughed, then spat on his boot. “You’re dead. You all are. Do you know who I am?” “Yup.” He stood and slapped me again. Not hard, but just enough to humiliate me. “You’re the bitch who tried to play queen. And now you’re on the wrong side of the board.” I glared at him, breathing heavy through my nose.

The woman's eyes were full of fire, as though she was engulfed by rage. "Anyway, have you eaten already?" the woman added before her eyes finally shifted towards me. "And who is this supposed to be?" She pointed in my direction with a disgusted look on her face. "Her name's Queen. Bright responded, "I told you about her, and we've already eaten." The woman glanced at me before she raised one of her eyebrows. "Oh, so you're the stupid woman who let a stranger come inside the room and let my child get stabbed."

The way he moved without a second thought, like some cursed hero in one of those sappy fairytales. He forgot I was even there. Me. His wife. The woman who bled for him, who stood by his side when no one else would. The one who sacrificed everything. And for what? To be cast aside like a worn-out cloak while some omega peasant basked in the warmth of his arms? I swallowed hard, pacing faster. The memory of her trembling and frail, clutching that pathetic little bump as if it were the crown jewels , made something inside me snap. That was supposed to be mine. All of it. The wealth, the title, the adoration, the heirs.

Evelyn knew exactly how to make Lucas listen. After years of practice, she had mastered the art of compromise. Once she’d thought it through, Nancy finally nodded and obeyed her orders. As she walked down the stairs, she shot Evelyn a look filled with venom. To her, it was only natural for her master to be tempted for a moment by a seductress like Evelyn. Lucas was still a man, after all. But that didn’t matter. Even as a servant, Nancy knew she was destined to be the true queen of this house. Once Lucas grew tired of Evelyn, Nancy would rule, and the entire household would be hers to command.