What Is She Can Have My Trash About?

If you ask my Alpha father to tell you about anyone in the pack, then he will speak about them in high esteem. If you talk to him about me, then he will deny even knowing me. While parents are supposed to love and protect their children, my father does the exact opposite. No one in our pack even knows that I'm alive. They all think that I died in childbirth. Along with my mother. And he's hated me for that ever since. And he's told me that the pack would hate me for killing their Luna. Only if they really knew the truth. But approaching my 16th birthday our pack had visitors come to help with training the warriors. My father thinking that our pack was becoming an easy target. And well, it was. Until the Alpha of the Protectors Pack found me and declared that I was his and not my fathers. But is that enough to stop my father from trying to get me back? Is there more to my story than I know? Is there a reason why my father kept me beaten and secluded? I guess I was going to have to find out what his real motives are. And how far he is willing to go to get his own way.

“I want you.” Aurora whimpered softly. “Tell me how much you want me, little wolf.” “I want you so bad.” She gasped when his lips grazed her ear, his breath making her shudder with need. Henry watched her with pleasure-laden eyes, his hand coiling round her waist possessively. “You belong to me, Aurora. You're mine.” … In the moonlit world of werewolves, Aurora Rose Thompson was a stunning young she-wolf with a fierce spirit and a beauty that rivaled the moon goddess. On her 18th birthday, the moon goddess paired her with the Alpha of her pack, Alpha Bishop Dawson, a union that seemed like a dream come true. But behind Bishop's chiseled facade and commanding presence lay a sinister plot: he didn't want a mate and he despised the mate bond. Two nights after they were mated, he cruelly rejected her and banished her from the pack. Enter Henry James Robert, the most powerful and ruthless Alpha King who had been mateless for more than a hundred years. He saved Aurora from Bishop's banishment and took her back with him to the lycan kingdom where he ruled. What he didn't expect was to fall desperately in love with her. A deep passion bloomed between them until everything shattered one day. Henry's dark secrets came to light, secrets he had managed to bury all these years. Hidden conspiracies arose, threatening to shatter the bond between him and Aurora. The truth about Aurora's identity is revealed, and when Bishop discovered that she was now Henry's mate, he suddenly wanted her back at all costs. Can their love survive the darkness of Henry's past and the treacherous forces that seek to destroy their bond? Or will the very thing that brought them together ultimately rip them apart?

After graduation, I spend a year interning with my mentor, a healer, out in the neutral lands—no packs, no laws, and no one to protect me. My brother, the Lycan Chairman of all werewolves, nearly loses his mind over it. He's terrified I'll fall for some Rogue and impulsively form a reckless mate bond. As such, he handpicks an arranged mate for me—Falcon Sterling, the Alpha of the strongest pack in Northmere. He's handsome and dangerous, a legendary figure. My brother orders me to come home for the mating ceremony, so I have no choice but to go pick out a Luna crown. At the jewelry shop, my eyes snap straight to a crown made of pure silver and covered in diamonds. Just as I reach out to take it, a sharp female voice cuts in. "I like the one she's holding. I'll take it. Hand it over." Before I can react, the clerk snatches the crown right out of my hands, nearly scraping my skin. I straighten up, forcing myself to stay calm. "Ever heard of 'first come, first served?' I saw it first. Is this how you do things here?" The she-wolf slowly turns toward me, casting me a long, mocking look. "This crown costs 300 thousand dollars. You sure you can afford it, peasant? I grew up with the Alpha of the Silvermoon pack, Falcon Sterling. Around here, I make the rules." I stare at her, almost laughing. Isn't that funny? Falcon just happens to be my arranged mate. I pull out my phone and press the call button. "Hey, Falcon. Your adorable childhood sweetheart just stole the Luna crown I'm supposed to wear for the mating ceremony. What do you think I should do about that?"

After passing through the lowest point in his life, the trash son-in-law has risen. After passing through the lowest point in his life, the trash son-in-law has risen.

Three months before my wedding, my fiancé, Henry Siebert, decided it was the perfect time to drop a maternity photo shoot on social media—with my foster sister, Betty Foster. The caption? Oh, just this gem: [Legally welcoming our little one into the world.] Betty added a shy emoji. And my mom? She liked the post and wrote: [Once the baby is born, I'll help take care of it so you two can enjoy your time together as a couple.] I couldn't help myself. I replied with a single question mark. And then Henry's DMs came in hot: [She's just borrowing me for a year to get married. Once the baby's born, I'll come back to you.]

My wife, Alisha West, has always been obsessively frugal. After marrying her, my single guilty pleasure became blowing money on luxury watches—almost like revenge for how absurdly tightfisted she was. By the time our daughter, Elyse Day, turned 7, she had inherited every bit of her mother’s penny-pinching nature. The two of them looked completely out of place in our sprawling mansion. And I loved it. I’d slip into my latest custom-tailored suits and watch them wince at my credit card statements, their expressions twisted in quiet pain. Until one day, lines of floating text suddenly appeared before my eyes. [This spendthrift idiot is still shopping? Doesn’t he know his wife’s company is about to go bankrupt?] [She’s been drained dry supporting this parasite. Her T-shirt collar is practically worn out from washing. Good thing the financially savvy male lead is about to show up and save her.] [Can’t wait for Alisha to file for divorce and kick this useless freeloader out. Let’s see how he survives fighting stray dogs for scraps under a bridge.] I slammed the limited-edition Richard Mille watch onto the table. Alisha, who was crouched on the floor breaking down delivery boxes for recycling, and Elyse, who was helping stomp them flat, both jumped in shock. A chill ran through me. I lunged forward, snatched the battered cardboard box from Elyse’s hands, and held it tightly against my chest. "No… no more buying. I’m returning this watch. "And these boxes… don’t sell them. I think we might need them someday… to lay out under a bridge when we’re sleeping outside…"