WILONA COOK

For three years, I acted as a substitute for my twin sister, married to the most powerful Alpha on the East Coast. To the world, I was Isabella, the spoiled princess. To my husband, Donovan, I was a nuisance he couldn't wait to divorce. I counted down the seconds until the contract expired so I could take my money and disappear. But three days before my freedom, his mistress was kidnapped. The rogues demanded a trade: the wife for the mistress. Donovan didn't hesitate. He dragged me to the warehouse and threw me to the wolves. To prove he didn't care about me, the rogue handed him a silver dagger. Donovan looked me in the eye and drove the blade into my thigh. As I screamed in agony, the smell of burning flesh filling the air, he stepped over my bleeding body to carry his mistress to safety. He left me there to die on the cold concrete, convinced he was punishing a cruel woman. He didn't know I was the one who had secretly given my rare blood to save that same mistress just a week prior. He didn't know I wasn't Isabella. He didn't know he had just tortured Ava—his true Fated Mate hiding in plain sight. When the real Isabella returned to claim the fortune, Donovan finally realized the woman in his house smelled wrong. He tore the world apart to find me, eventually falling to his knees in the rain to beg for a second chance. But I just looked at him, my hand resting in the grip of a new, kinder Alpha, and whispered: "I reject you."

I stood outside the mahogany doors, balancing a tray of espresso, when I heard my husband promise his sister that my reign as the Queen of Chicago was over. I thought being the Don's wife meant safety. I was wrong. In a warehouse reeking of rust, faced with an ultimatum from our enemies to choose who lives, Brennan made his choice. "Alyssa is strong," he justified, shielding his mistress, Debbi, who was faking a pregnancy. "She knows the life." He walked out into the sunlight with her, leaving me in the dark with a gun to my head. He abandoned me to be tortured and murdered by his rivals, weaponizing my resilience to absolve his guilt. He thought I died that day. He even mourned me after he eventually found out Debbi was a traitor. But he didn't know the new security guard was an undercover FBI agent who pulled me from the edge. Two years later, I've built a quiet life running a bistro in Maine under a new name. But then the bell above the door chimes during the lunch rush. I look up, and there he is. The husband who sacrificed me. He's looking at me not with guilt, but with a terrifying, obsessive hope. He says he burned down the world to fix his mistake. He says he won't let me go again. I smile, but my hand is already reaching for the wire the FBI gave me. I'm not a wife anymore, Brennan. I'm the executioner.

My husband, Andre Grimes, was a newly-elected senator, and I was a celebrated chef pregnant with our first child. On the night of his victory, our world was supposed to be perfect. Instead, I watched him on live TV, his arm around his pregnant mistress, as he announced their relationship to the world. He then looked into the camera and called my own pregnancy a lie, a fabrication to create a scandal. His powerful family, along with my own adoptive parents, locked me in our home. They moved his mistress into my bedroom and planned to force me to have an abortion to protect his career. His mother looked at me with cold eyes. "It's for the best, Kyra. No loose ends." I was trapped, betrayed by everyone, facing the murder of my unborn child. But they made one mistake: they gave me back my phone. With trembling hands, I found a long-forgotten number and dialed. A man's voice answered. "My name is Kyra Moore," I choked out. "I think you might be my father. They're going to take my baby."

My best friend is pregnant with my husband's child. An hour ago, she stood in my living room, holding a positive pregnancy test and a grainy ultrasound photo that felt like a death sentence to my world. But the true nightmare began when my mother-in-law swept in, praised my friend for "doing the family a great service," and moved her into our home to care for the "Patton heir." My husband, the man who swore my infertility didn't matter, called her a mere "vessel" for our family. He then orchestrated an "accident" that shattered my hand, ending my career as a cardiothoracic surgeon. He didn't stop there. He sacrificed my father's life-saving heart transplant for my friend's brother and left me for dead in a landfill when I discovered the truth. I was a brilliant surgeon who could hold a life in my hands, yet I was blind to the fact that my own life was being systematically destroyed by the two people I trusted most. After faking my death and disappearing for two years, I've built a new life, a new face, and a new love. But now, he's found me. And this time, he's not just trying to control me-he's trying to bury me.

For fifteen years, I was Isabella Moretti, the perfect wife to the city's most powerful Don. We were a power couple, a carefully curated masterpiece of influence and affection. Our life was flawless. That masterpiece shattered on our anniversary when a burner phone lit up with a picture of his assistant’s hand on my husband's thigh. Soon, I found his second phone and discovered the full scope of his betrayal. His mistress, Sofia, was pregnant. He lied to my face about "work emergencies" while she began a campaign of terror, sending me photos of them together, a grainy ultrasound, and a video of her parading in my silk robe, bragging about becoming the new Mrs. Moretti. I was supposed to endure it in silence. That's the rule for a Don's wife. But all the pain hollowed out, leaving only a cold, chilling certainty. He truly believed I was nothing without him. "Where would you go, Bella?" he'd once laughed, his voice dripping with condescension. "Everything you have, everything you are, is because of me. You wouldn't last a week." He thought it was a game. "I'll take that bet," he'd said. So while he was away on a final "business trip" with her, I made my move. I liquidated our assets and hired movers to strip our mansion bare, erasing every trace of my existence. I walked out forever, but not before leaving two gifts on the empty mattress where we once slept: the signed divorce papers, and the melted, grotesque slug of gold that used to be my wedding ring.

The Miller family living room, usually a hub of quiet prestige, hummed with a different kind of energy. My adoptive father, Mr. Miller, beamed, the air thick with anticipation for the grand unveiling. Lined up before him were the five men he had raised alongside me: Ethan Hayes, Justin Bell, Ryan Stone, Kevin White. And me, Chloe Miller, the prize in a twisted game I was forced to play. "Chloe, my dear," Mr. Miller' s voice, warm and loving, cut through the tension. "Who do you choose?" Ethan, the man I had tragically chosen in another life, smiled. A perfect, practiced mask of devotion. This time, his smile felt like a cruel joke. I remembered the cheers, the naive happiness of that last life. He' d been the perfect husband, the perfect son-in-law. Until my father' s funeral. That night, he handed me divorce papers, his voice stripped of all warmth. "Now that your father is gone, there' s no need to continue this." Confusion turned to horror as he confessed: our marriage was an act of gratitude. A pact. A lottery among the boys to see who would "care for me" while they waited for Sophia, my sweet, innocent adoptive sister, to come of age. Every love letter, every tender touch, every whispered promise, now tainted. I was a pawn. A well-behaved doll. Then came the final, devastating blow: he left me to drown in a flooded subway tunnel for Sophia' s sprained ankle. But then, impossibly, I woke up. Back in my bedroom, on the very day I was supposed to choose. This time, my choice would not be a game. It would be my freedom. "I choose Liam Black," I declared, my voice ringing clear and steady in the stunned silence. A quiet, stoic Navy SEAL, an outsider. My escape. The shock on their faces was a masterpiece of disbelief. Their carefully constructed world shattered by a single, powerful truth. And I was just getting started.

For six years, our life together with Ashley was a perfectly curated social media feed: beautiful, aspirational, and utterly fake. I, Ethan Miller, the indie filmmaker, thought we were finally building something real, meticulously picking out wedding invitations with my social media influencer fiancée. Then, a bombshell. "I need to postpone the wedding," Ashley announced, tears welling up in a performance worthy of an Oscar. Her childhood friend Liam' s dying mother, she claimed, had one last wish: to see Ashley marry her son. Not only did she steal the wedding rings I designed for us to marry Liam, but Ashley-the woman I was supposed to spend my life with-also callously mocked my own dying mother for being too desperate to get married. The betrayal clawed at me, but the horror deepened when I returned home to find Liam and Ashley cozy on our couch, with my belongings being boxed up by her bodyguards. I was a prisoner in my own home, a "harmless" man she could discard at will. When I tried to leave, Liam's hired thugs abducted me in my own lobby, while Ashley' s bodyguards stood by, watching. I woke up to Ashley and Liam staging a sick charade, falsely accusing me of assaulting Liam' s "dying" mother. "You monster! How could you?" Ashley screamed, before violently slapping me. Then, with a chillingly calm expression, she grabbed my wrist and twisted. I screamed as I heard the sickening crack. My wrist was broken. "Don't ever get in my way again," she hissed, leaving me broken and alone. She even tried to buy my silence, threatening to ruin my career if I ever spoke the truth. But her theatrical sorrow, the stolen rings, the staged kidnapping, the deliberate injury-it all solidified into a cold, hard resolve within me. I was done playing her game. "Can you find me a new bride?" I asked my sister, and then, a name from my past surfaced: Chloe Peterson.

The first sign was a receipt, a flimsy piece of paper I found in my husband Julian' s coat pocket. It was for an obscure art supply store, in a part of the city he had no business being. My husband, the CEO of the world' s most powerful tech firm, saw art as a frivolous asset. My heart went cold. Five years I' d spent as the perfect wife to a man more machine than human, managing his life with detached efficiency. I believed he was incapable of emotion, of passion. I was wrong. The private investigator' s report came back a week later. Pictures. Julian, my ruthless Julian, with a young artist named Lily Chen. The look on his face wasn' t love. It was absolute possession. He followed her, bought her groceries, paid her student loans. He streamed her security cameras directly to his private server, watching her relentlessly. The man who forgot my birthday had memorized a stranger' s life. My confrontation at the Zenith Tech Gala was a mistake. "Julian Vance," I announced, taking a spare microphone on stage. "Innovator. Husband. Adulterer." I held up photos of his obsession for the world to see. He didn' t flinch. His eyes, cold and dark, locked onto mine. "My wife is unwell," he told the stunned crowd, before having security escort me off stage. That night, he slid divorce papers across the marble island in our kitchen. "Sign them," he commanded. The settlement was obscenely generous. "No," I said. "Don' t be a fool, Scarlett. Take the deal. It' s more than you deserve." "I want an apology. I want you to admit what you did." He laughed, a short, ugly sound. "Sign the papers." "Never." The next day, my family' s AI firm was hit with a hostile takeover. Julian was dismantling my life, piece by piece. "Stop it," I pleaded. "You can have the divorce. I' ll sign. Just leave my family alone." "It' s too late for that," he said, then hung up. Two days later, my parents disappeared. "I have them, Scarlett. In a safe place," he said that night, my mother crying in the background. "What do you want?" I whispered. "The papers are on your desk. Sign them, and bring them to me. Your parents will be home by morning." "And if I don' t?" The silence was terrifying. "Don' t test me, Scarlett. You have one hour." I found the papers. My hand shook as I signed, surrendering everything. He met me at an abandoned warehouse. My parents were there, tied to chairs, hooded. "Mom? Dad?" He removed their hoods. Bruised and terrified, my father screamed, "Scarlett, run!" "I promised they would be home by morning," Julian said to me, his eyes never leaving mine. "I never said they' d be alive." He nodded to his men. The gunshots were deafening. My parents, executed in front of me. The world went black. I awoke with a gasp, in my bed, in the sterile mansion. The date was the day I found the receipt. The day my world began to end. This time, it would be his end. I knew the monster I was married to. No confrontation. No public scenes. No desperate pleas. This time, I would disappear. And I would watch him descend into the madness he deserved.

I was scrolling through an anonymous forum, a niche corner of the internet, when a thread titled "The Grand Escape Plan" caught my eye. My husband David, the man I' d loved for five years, came home that very moment, beaming. He announced he' d found a private orphanage, and we were finally going to adopt, a dream we' d chased through years of medical treatments and mounting strain. But as he spoke, his words chillingly echoed the forum post I'd just read, a detailed, grotesque plan by a user "Wanderer77" to adopt a child, leave it with his "barren" wife, fake his death, and disappear with his "true love" and their "little surprise." Suddenly, his excited talk of adoption and "a real family" twisted into something sinister. The man I' d married transformed into Wanderer77 before my eyes, and a wave of nausea, more than just shock, washed over me – a premonition of a truth I was too terrified to confirm. That night, my trembling hands held a pregnancy test: two bright pink lines. I was pregnant, but my husband didn't know, and he was already plotting my abandonment, leaving me with another woman's child. The love for him evaporated, replaced by cold resolve. He thought he was setting a trap for me, but the game had just begun; he was about to walk into his own.

The black Escalade pulled up to the Hughes family ranch, ready for me to finally claim my heritage as a country music star and the long-lost daughter of Howard Hughes. My agent was frantic, but I ignored him; this was where I' d been broken and driven to suicide in my past life. Then, Nicole Lester, the adopted daughter, emerged, mocking my "trashy" outfit and status, daring me to step foot on "their" property. In my previous life, her words, and Ethan' s subsequent career sabotage, had completely shattered me, leaving me desperate for their hollow approval. But this time, I wasn't the intimidated girl who'd fallen for their mind games or felt unworthy. I stepped out of the car, a chilling calm washing over me as I realized their cheap tactics wouldn't work on the woman who was reborn to burn their world to the ground.

The stale smell of forgotten dreams filled the New York yellow cab as rain blurred the city outside, a scene hauntingly familiar. In my last life, this exact ride took me straight to the Pulitzer jury, to the beginning of my catastrophic downfall. My own daughter, Gabrielle, systematically dismantled my life, using my name and reputation to peddle fake insider trading tips to desperate writers. When her scheme inevitably imploded, she seamlessly shifted blame onto me, painting me as a corrupt public figure, a "whistleblower" feeding lies to the hungry online mob. I lost everything: my esteemed career, my freedom, and ultimately, my life, succumbing to a stress-induced heart attack in a lonely apartment, hounded by strangers and forever disgraced. The betrayal was a cold, bitter knot in my stomach-how could the child I raised inflict such immense pain and ruin? But then, a jolt: I was back in this taxi, on this very day, with the chilling clarity of a second chance. This time, this ride wouldn't lead to my destruction; it would be the first step in my meticulous plan to save myself and dismantle her cruel charade.

I died in a federal prison, framed for corporate espionage. My last sight was the man who put me there, Ethan Scott, laughing on a TV screen, celebrating his new life with my stepsister, Stella Chadwick. He' d stolen my inheritance, my freedom, and my future, leaving me to rot for a crime I didn' t commit. Every breath I took in that cell was laced with a hatred so profound, it almost tasted metallic. But then, I gasped, sucking in the scent of expensive leather instead of stale concrete. I was back, seated at the head of the boardroom, staring at the corporate empire that was my birthright. Ethan Scott stood there, smug and charismatic, ready to play his old game. He even brought Stella, holding her hand, demanding a "triumvirate" for a company I inherited from my father. In my past life, I fell for his lies, his emotional blackmail, his manipulative performance. I was blinded by a warped sense of love and loyalty. But not this time. This time, I felt a cold, sharp clarity. Because I remembered everything.

I was three months pregnant when my Austin penthouse became my tomb. My boyfriend, Liam, pushed me from the balcony, a fall swift and final. My death was staged as a tragic suicide, a lie the news readily swallowed. They didn't know the real reason: Daisy, a coyote pup I'd rescued, could shift into a beautiful woman. Liam couldn't let that secret out, and now I watched my killers, my spirit haunting the home I' d paid for. He pulled Daisy into his arms, sharing a passionate kiss right where my lifeless body had fallen. "She's gone," Liam whispered, "It's all ours now." They slandered my name, seized my family' s oil fortune, and buried me in a cheap wooden box. Then, on my family ranch, over my desecrated grave, Liam confessed: "I only dated her to give you this life, Daisy. Chloe owed you this." I burned with a rage so consuming, it felt like my very soul was on fire. And then, I woke up, back in my Range Rover, the Texas storm roaring outside, faced with Daisy once more.

My engagement party to Preston Hawthorne III was meant to be the social event of the season, a strategic fusion of my family's political power and his corporate empire. The grand ballroom of the Four Seasons glittered with D.C.'s elite, all gathered to witness my seemingly perfect future. Then, a trashy tabloid reporter ambushed me, thrusting a phone displaying a dramatic suicide note from Chloe, Preston' s supposed "fragile" childhood friend. "Ellie, is it true Preston has been having an affair with his adopted sister?" the blinding camera flashes and relentless questions began. My fiancé, Preston, instead of defending me, rushed over only to stammer a pathetic excuse about Chloe needing him and fleeing the scene. He confirmed his betrayal and abandonment publicly, letting the vultures with their cameras feast on my humiliation. Left standing alone in the center of the storm, the hot wave of mortification threatened to drown me. How could the man I was to marry choose a manipulative girl over duty, honor, and our powerful alliance? I was Senator Vance's daughter, and this was more than embarrassment; it was a public declaration of war by a weak, spineless fool. His monumental mistake, however, wouldn't be my downfall. Just as I composed myself, Preston Hawthorne II, the true titan, proposed an unthinkable solution to salvage generations of power. "You will not marry Preston," he stated, "You will marry my other son, Caleb, a real man who understands duty." I would not be a discarded bride; I would turn this public humiliation into the ultimate display of strength. My only condition: "I want to meet him. Alone." This wasn't a setback; it was an unexpected and powerful upgrade.

It was the worst blind date Violet had ever been on. But instead of putting up with him, she rebuked him right back. Terence, the man at the table beside them, was intrigued by her attitude and subconsciously followed her to the bar. Their mutual attraction and the copious amount of alcohol led them to a night of pleasure. What should have been a one night stand, by a twist of fate, ended in marriage? Their parents blessed their union at the simple wedding ceremony.  Terence loved Violet ardently, which came as a shock to his friends because this was not at all like the indifferent Terence they had known all along. But with the return of Violet's ex-boyfriend, a secret that had been hidden for four years was now gradually being unveiled, threatening their sweet married life.

For eight years, Cecilia Moore was the perfect Luna, loyal, and unmarked. Until the day she found her Alpha mate with a younger, purebred she-wolf in his bed. In a world ruled by bloodlines and mating bonds, Cecilia was always the outsider. But now, she's done playing by wolf rules. She smiles as she hands Xavier the quarterly financials-divorce papers clipped neatly beneath the final page. "You're angry?" he growls. "Angry enough to commit murder," she replies, voice cold as frost. A silent war brews under the roof they once called home. Xavier thinks he still holds the power-but Cecilia has already begun her quiet rebellion. With every cold glance and calculated step, she's preparing to disappear from his world-as the mate he never deserved. And when he finally understands the strength of the heart he broke... It may be far too late to win it back.

Narine never expected to survive. Not after what was done to her body, mind, and soul. But fate had other plans. Rescued by Supreme Alpha Sargis, the kingdom's most feared ruler, she finds herself under the protection of a man she doesn't know... and a bond she doesn't understand. Sargis is no stranger to sacrifice. Ruthless, ambitious, and loyal to the sacred matebond, he's spent years searching for the soul fate promised him, never imagining she would come to him broken, on the brink of death, and afraid of her own shadow. He never meant to fall for her... but he does. Hard and fast. And he'll burn the world before letting anyone hurt her again. What begins in silence between two fractured souls slowly grows into something intimate and real. But healing is never linear. With the court whispering, the past clawing at their heels, and the future hanging by a thread, their bond is tested again and again. Because falling in love is one thing. Surviving it? That's a war of its own. Narine must decide, can she survive being loved by a man who burns like fire, when all she's ever known is how not to feel? Will she shrink for the sake of peace, or rise as Queen for the sake of his soul? For readers who believe even the most fractured souls can be whole again, and that true love doesn't save you. It stands beside you while you save yourself.

My Luna became an alpha after I rejected her : she was my Luna. I rejected her. Now she's stronger than ever and she has my son. Amelia's world shattered the day her daughter died-and her mate, Alpha Aiden of the Red Moon Pack, divorced her to reunite with his ex-girlfriend. Cast out, disgraced, and accused of poisoning her own child, Amelia was stripped of her title and driven from her pack. The next morning, her lifeless body was found at the border.They all believed she was dead.But she wasn't. Far from the ashes of betrayal, Amelia rebuilt herself-rising from rejection and ruin to become the first female Alpha of Velaris, the most powerful and respected pack in the realm. She also carried a secret Aiden never discovered:She was pregnant-with his son.Years later, fate brings them face to face once more. A deadly disease is spreading through the packs, and the only one who can stop it is the renowned doctor they thought had died. When Aiden sees the boy at her side-his eyes, his blood-he realizes the truth.He didn't just lose his Luna. He destroyed the mother of his child.And now, she's everything he's not-stronger, wiser, untouchable. Will she heal the pack that betrayed her?Will she ever let him near her heart again?Or is his punishment simply living with the consequences?

Lyric had spent her life being hated. Bullied for her scarred face and hated by everyone-including her own mate-she was always told she was ugly. Her mate only kept her around to gain territory, and the moment he got what he wanted, he rejected her, leaving her broken and alone. Then, she met him. The first man to call her beautiful. The first man to show her what it felt like to be loved. It was only one night, but it changed everything. For Lyric, he was a saint, a savior. For him, she was the only woman that had ever made him cum in bed-a problem he had been battling for years. Lyric thought her life would finally be different, but like everyone else in her life, he lied. And when she found out who he really was, she realized he wasn't just dangerous-he was the kind of man you don't escape from. Lyric wanted to run. She wanted freedom. But she desired to navigate her way and take back her respect, to rise above the ashes. Eventually, she was forced into a dark world she didn't wish to get involved with.

I gave him three years of silent devotion behind a mask I never wanted to wear. I made a wager for our bond-he paid me off like a mistress. "Chloe's back," Zane said coldly. "It's over." I laughed, poured wine on his face, and walked away from the only love I'd ever known. "What now?" my best friend asked. I smiled. "The real me returns." But fate wasn't finished yet. That same night, Caesar Conrad-the Alpha every wolf feared-opened his car door and whispered, "Get in." Our gazes collided. The bond awakened. No games. No pretending. Just raw, unstoppable power. "Don't regret this," he warned, lips brushing mine. But I didn't. Because the mate I'd been chasing never saw me. And the one who did? He's ready to burn the world for me.

Luna has tried her best to make her forced marriage to Xen work for the sake of their child. But with Riley and Sophia- Xen's ex-girlfriend and her son in the picture. She fights a losing battle. Ollie, Xen's son is neglected by his father for a very long time and he is also suffering from a mysterious sickness that's draining his life force. When his last wish to have his dad come to his 5th birthday party is dashed by his failure to show up, Ollie dies in an accident after seeing his father celebrate Riley's birthday with Sophia and it's displayed on the big advertising boards that fill the city. Ollie dies and Luna follows after, unable to bear the grief, dying in her mate's hands cursing him and begging for a second chance to save her son. Luna gets the opportunity and is woken up in the past, exactly one year to the day Sophia and Riley show up. But this time around, Luna is willing to get rid of everyone and anyone even her mate if he steps in her way to save her son.

For two years, I was the Alpha's secret wife, a duty he resented. But the positive pregnancy test in my hand was a miracle, a blessing from the Moon Goddess. This baby, our heir, was supposed to be the bridge that finally mended our broken mate bond. That night, he left without a word. I saw on a gossip site that he'd gone to pick up his ex-lover, Isadora. Reaching for him through our bond, I wasn't met with his usual coldness, but with her emotions bleeding through him-triumph and smug possession. The next morning, I went to his office, ready to tell him about our baby, believing our child could fix us. But I stopped when I heard him talking to our Pack Healer about me. The healer said I looked fragile, that he should care for his mate. My husband laughed. "You seem to care for her more than I do," Demetri said, his voice dripping with ice. "Do you want me to give her to you? Take her. She's of no use to me." My world shattered. I wasn't just unloved; I was a thing to be discarded. I looked down at the pregnancy report, the proof of the life inside me, and made a vow. He would never know about our child, and I would sever our bond myself.

The night I discovered my husband's whore was carrying his heir, I smiled for the cameras-and plotted his ruin. Scarlett was born a queen-heir to a powerful legacy, Luna of the Dark Moon Pack by blood and by sacrifice. She gave everything to Alexander: her love, her loyalty, her life. In return, he paraded his mistress before their pack... and dared to call it duty. But Scarlett won't be another broken woman weeping in the shadows. She'll wear her crown of thorns with pride, tear down every lie built around her, and when she strikes, it will be glorious. The Alpha forgot that the woman he betrayed is far more dangerous than the girl who once loved him.

She was a diamond covered by ashes.... King Dakota was known as the most Powerful Alpha King of all times - more powerful than any other King that had ruled from his lineage. He was cold hearted, introverted and dangerous in anger. Cursed by the Moon goddess, King Dakota had to get married to three wives all in search of a male child that would become his heir, but it was impossible as the curse would only let his wives bear she -wolves. But on a different day, the King meets a lady who offends him and as a punishment, he took her home as his fourth wife. Her name was Shilah. Shilah was a powerless wolf and as a result, was disregarded and intimidated by all. But, when she begins to do things that the King had never felt for years, he began to wonder who she really was. Slowly, she crawled her way into his icy heart and turned out to be something nobody ever expected - a storm.

Silvia lost everything in one night-her parents,her trust,and her mate. Coming home from their funeral,she found her "fated"partner,Zack,tangled with another she-wolf. "You'll always be my Luna... even if I need variety,"he said,smirking. Heartbroken but fierce,she rejected him-and turned to someone far more dangerous. "I need help,"she whispered. Sherman leaned closer,his voice like silk over steel. "I offer more than help,little wolf. I offer everything he couldn't give you." Now married to Zack's powerful half-brother,Silvia plays a deadly game of loyalty,vengeance,and survival. But Sherman Carter doesn't help for free-and as their bond deepens,truths unravel. Is Silvia just a pawn in Sherman's war? Or is she becoming the Queen who'll burn the whole pack down? When love,betrayal,and bloodlines collide,how far will one omega go to save her family-and destroy the mate who broke her soul?