Unwanted Vessel: The Secret of the White Wolf
"You were just the incubator, Alex. Iliana is their real mother."
With those words, Alpha Gavyn erased six years of my life.
I had raised his twins, sat up with them through fevers, and loved them as my own while he waited for his "true mate" to return.
But the moment Iliana came back, I became nothing more than a nuisance.
The betrayal didn't stop there.
My children, the ones who used to cling to my leg, looked at me with pure disgust.
"Ew," my daughter sneered. "Daddy says you're just a hairless weakling. Don't touch me!"
She shoved me down the stairs.
Gavyn didn't help me up. He stepped over my bleeding body to comfort Iliana because the smell of my blood "bothered" her.
He forced me to dive into a poisoned lake to retrieve a necklace Iliana threw away, just to humiliate me.
And when kidnappers held us both at gunpoint on a cliff, asking him to save one, he didn't hesitate.
"I choose Iliana," he said, turning his back on me. "You were just a substitute."
As I fell into the abyss, waiting for death, I felt a snap inside my chest.
Gavyn thought he was killing a latent human.
He had no idea that the fall would shatter the seal on my soul.
Mid-air, my bones didn't break—they reshaped.
A blinding white light exploded from my skin.
The Alpha didn't just discard a nanny.
He just unleashed the legendary White Wolf.
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Chapter 6
Alex POV:
The Underground Club was a sensory assault—cheap liquor, sweat, and blood.
I sat in a dark booth, nursing water. My leg throbbed.
"I need a room," I told the bartender.
"Motel down the street. VIP is closed."
I stood to leave. Passing the VIP corridor, a scent hit me. Artificial roses and rot.
Iliana.
Why was the future Luna here?
Instinct drove me down the hall. The door was ajar.
Iliana stood inside. A scarred Rogue was counting a stack of cash.
"Make it look real," Iliana said, voice precise. "Rip the dress. Hit me, but not in the face."
"Whatever you say, lady."
She was staging it.
Before I could move, Iliana tore her blouse open and screamed.
"Help! Please! Get off me!"
"No!" I whispered.
Too late. The front entrance exploded inward.
"Iliana!"
Gavyn. He'd tracked her phone.
He stormed down the hall, Alpha aura blazing, eyes crimson. He saw me first.
"Alex?" Confusion flickered.
"She set me up!" Iliana shrieked from the floor. "Alex paid him! She paid this filth to defile me!"
Gavyn turned to the Rogue. "Is this true?"
The Rogue looked at me, then the cash. "Yeah. The cripple gave me five grand. Said she wanted the pretty one ruined."
The lie was so heavy it felt physical. A blatant setup.
"Gavyn, look at the money!" I shouted. "Check it for my scent! I haven't touched it!"
But Gavyn wasn't thinking. His eyes were glazed, pupils dilated—the sign of a wolf running on pure instinct and perhaps... something else. A subtle influence clouding his judgment.
He moved.
His hand wrapped around my throat, slamming me against the wall.
"You are vile," he spat.
"Gavyn... listen..."
"Silence!" Alpha Command.
My voice died.
"Punish her," Gavyn ordered his warriors. "Teach her what happens when you touch what is mine."
He dropped me.
Gavyn scooped Iliana up. She buried her face in his neck.
"I've got you," he murmured tenderly.
As he carried her out, Iliana winked at me over his shoulder.
Then the first boot connected with my ribs.
An hour later, I was thrown into the mansion foyer.
Gavyn sat on the couch, Iliana on his lap, feeding him grapes.
"Is she dead?" Kenneth asked.
"No, just broken," Gavyn said, slurring slightly. Iliana had been pouring him wine all night.
"She's a bitch in heat," Kenneth laughed. "That's what Mommy Iliana said."
My heart finally stopped beating for them.
"Take her to the guest room," Gavyn mumbled, head lolling. "We deal with the trash in the morning."
As the guards dragged me away, I heard Iliana giggle.
"Come upstairs, Alpha. Let me help you forget her."
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8.4
I had been locked in a freezing cellar for three days, starving and waiting for my husband, Marco, to save me.
Instead, the iron door opened to reveal his mistress holding a toddler with Marco's exact face.
Marco wasn't sterile like he had claimed for years. He just wanted my De Luca family trust funds.
With my husband watching coldly, his mistress and a corrupt doctor pinned me to the concrete floor.
"We're going to carve you up until you're unrecognizable, then throw you in the lake," she laughed.
The most chilling part wasn't the affair. It was the realization that my mother-in-law, the mafia matriarch I had served faithfully for three years, had personally signed my death warrant to save their crumbling empire.
The scalpel sliced deep into my cheek, permanently destroying my face as warm blood poured down my neck.
I had given them everything. I used my family's money to pay off his secret gambling debts and endured endless insults about being a barren wife, only to realize the entire family viewed me as nothing but a pig to be slaughtered for cash.
In the suffocating darkness, I didn't pray for mercy. I swore a blood oath.
I didn't die in that cellar. Saved by a legendary rival boss, I stood outside the Falcone estate three weeks later.
I pushed open the heavy oak doors to my own memorial service, the jagged red scar on my face silencing the hall.
"I'm afraid your plans to inherit my estate will have to be postponed," I smiled at my terrified husband.
8.6
One touch, and I was lost."'
His voice was a whisper against my ear, his breath hot on my neck.
"He cannot touch you the way I do, Bella. He does not know your body like I do. You are mine. Every inch of you, every hidden place, every moan you make. And nothing, not even your mother, will keep me from owning this pussy."
His words burn against my skin, like a promise and a threat at the same time.
"You're mine. And I don't share."
*******
Isabella Moretti made one mistake.
One night that should have stayed buried.
One moment with the man she was never supposed to want; her stepfather, Damian Blackwell.
She runs to New York. A fresh start. A shot at her journalism career and a life where she can forget the way his hands felt on her body.
But Damian doesn't believe in letting go. Not when it's what he wants.
When her mother announces Isabella's engagement to her friend's son and asks her to come home to meet her new husband, she thinks maybe she's finally escaped. Until she sees her stepfather-to-be's face.
It's him. Damian Blackwell
Damian isn't just the man whose body she wants; he's hiding something dark enough that could actually launch her career into the world. Or destroy everything she's ever loved.
Now Isabella's trapped between impossible choices:
Her mother's approval, love and a "perfect" future
The man who owns every forbidden part of her soul
But some fires don't just burn.They consume everything.
A dark stepfather romance where the lines between ambition and desire blur beyond recognition.
9.6
Lesley Williams was once the alpha's daughter, but a fatal accident took away everything she loved. Now she's her Uncle's pet and the pack's omega, which means she's constantly bullied and abused. She's broken inside, but she doesn't want to leave her father's pack in fear of what her uncle might do to them in retaliation. Her only comfort is that when she meets her mate, he'll be able to take her away from this hellhole...
Alpha Cedrick Silver had a mate once. A beautiful omega wolf, but she rejected him. Barely surviving the broken bond, he became ruthless and coldhearted, throwing himself into building up his pack to be the biggest and strongest pack in the nation. Now he has a girlfriend, that he's content with and he does not want a mate: EVER!
But the second their eyes met, Cedrick and Lesley realized that they were fated for each other. Not thrilled about having another omega mate, Cedrick is even more disgusted when he realized that not only is his second chance mate considered 'the pack's slut', but she's also half his age.
Does he want someone like that as his mate and Luna? Can she trust him with her secrets? Can these two broken people find love?
WARNING!!
This story contains scenes of sexual abuse of a child, rape, sex, strong language, verbal abuse, extreme bullying, mental disorders, self-harm, thoughts of suicide, gore, and other offenses that might be illegal in some countries.
7.5
The man smiling in the silver frame on my vanity was the very same man who, in exactly three months, would wrap his hands around my throat.
I knew this because I had already died.
I had felt the freezing, silty water of the Hudson River fill my lungs while Alexander watched the life drain from my eyes, his mistress laughing in the background.
I had hovered like a ghost above my own funeral, watching the betrayal continue even after my death.
My mother, the perfect Mafia widow, stood stoically next to my killer, unaware she had sold her daughter to a butcher. My fiancé checked his watch, bored, waiting to liquidate my inheritance.
But then I saw him.
Darrian Golden. The Don of the rival clan. The enemy.
He stood in the pouring rain, his expensive suit soaked through, staring at my coffin as if the world had ended. When the earth hit the wood, he didn't just cry; he roared in primal agony. My fiancé killed me, but my enemy was the only one who mourned me.
"The Commission is waiting," my mother’s voice snapped the timeline back into place.
She stood in my doorway, demanding I set the engagement date to secure the territory. She saw a charming Capo; I saw the rat who had cut my father's brake lines.
In my first life, I was a trembling bird. In this life, I was the match that would burn the cage down.
I smashed the photo frame against the marble table, the sound cracking through the room like a gunshot.
"Contact the Golden Clan," I commanded.
My mother went pale. "He is a savage, Azalea. He butchers men for sport."
"Tell Don Golden that Azalea Kidd is offering a parley," I said, looking out the window at the city that would soon be ours.
"Tell him I am offering the only thing he has ever wanted: Me."
7.3
Rain hammered against the asphalt as my sedan spun violently into the guardrail on the I-95. Blood trickled down my temple, stinging my eyes, while the rhythmic slap of the windshield wipers mocked my panic.
Trembling, I dialed my husband, Clive. His executive assistant answered instead, his voice professional and utterly cold.
"Mr. Wilson says to stop the theatrics. He said, and I quote, 'Hang up. Tell her I don't have time for her emotional blackmail tonight.'"
The line went dead while I was still trapped in the wreckage. At the hospital, I watched the news footage of Clive wrapping his jacket around his "fragile" ex-girlfriend, Angelena, shielding her from the storm I was currently bleeding in. When I returned to our penthouse, I found a prenatal ultrasound in his suit pocket, dated the day he claimed to be on a business trip.
Instead of an apology, Clive met me with a sneer. He told me I was nothing but an "expensive decoration" his father bought to make him look stable. He froze my bank accounts and cut off my cards, waiting for the hunger to drive me back to his feet.
I stared at the man I had loved for four years, realizing he didn't just want a wife; he wanted a prop he could switch off. He thought he could starve me into submission while he played father to another woman's child.
But Clive forgot one thing. Before I was his trophy wife, I was Starfall-the legendary voice actress who vanished at the height of her fame.
"I'm not jealous, Clive. I'm done."
I grabbed my old microphone and walked out. I'm not just leaving him; I'm taking the lead role in the biggest saga in Hollywood-the one Angelena is desperate for. This time, the "decoration" is going to burn his world down.
9.6
While I was pregnant, my husband held a party downstairs for another woman's son.
Through a hidden mental link, I overheard my husband, Don Dante Rossi, tell his consigliere he was going to publicly reject me tomorrow. He planned to make his mistress, Serena, his new mate.
An act forbidden by ancient law while I carried his heir.
Later, Serena cornered me, her smile venomous. When Dante appeared, she shrieked, clawing her own arm and blaming me for the attack.
Dante didn’t even look at me. He snarled a command that froze my body and stole my voice, ordering me from his sight as he cradled her.
He moved her and her son into our master suite. I was demoted to the guest room at the end of the hall.
Passing her open door, I saw him rocking her baby, humming the lullaby my own mother used to sing to me.
I heard him promise her, “Soon, my love. I’ll sever the bond and give you the life you deserve.”
The love I felt for him, the power I’d hidden for four years to protect his fragile ego, all turned to ice.
He thought I was a weak, powerless wife he could discard. He was about to find out that the woman he betrayed was Alessia De Luca, princess of the most powerful family on the continent.
And I was finally going home.