Lu Meng

The drill's whine was the only thing in my world, vibrating through my skull and drowning out my own screams. I was strapped to a cold metal table, paralyzed by wolfsbane, while surgeons bored into my hip bone to siphon my essence. "Just a little more," the surgeon muttered. "Isabella needs the boost for the wedding photos." They weren't saving my sister's life. They were harvesting my marrow just to make her skin glow for a picture. I looked at the observation window, begging with my eyes. Dante, the Alpha I had dragged from the jaws of death, stood there. He wasn't looking at me. He was holding Isabella's hand. He didn't know I was the one who healed him. He believed her lies. "Take it all if you have to," Dante's voice drifted through our fading mate bond. "Don't let her fade." The drill punched through. My heart stuttered and stopped. I died on that table, a hollowed-out husk used to feed my sister's vanity. "Seraphina! Are you deaf?" A sharp voice snapped me back into existence. I gasped, clutching my hip. No blood. No drill. No pain. I looked at the calendar on my father's desk. I was alive. And I had exactly one year before the surgery that killed me. I looked at my trembling hands and felt the ancient anger of my White Wolf stirring. I wasn't going to be the sacrifice this time. I was going to be the arsonist.

My family accused me of betraying them, of nearly destroying the tech empire they had built from nothing. As punishment, my father and two older brothers locked me in my room, leaving me without food or water until I confessed to a crime I didn't commit. But when a medical condition flared and I began to suffocate, they dismissed my desperate screams for help as just another one of my "theatrics." "She's just being dramatic," I heard them say through the thick oak door, right before they added extra bolts. They were completely blinded by Ivy, the manipulative outsider I had welcomed as a sister. They chose her lies over their own blood, forgetting how I had secretly liquidated my own assets to save their company years ago. I died alone, my last breath a desperate gasp in a house that refused to listen. Then, I woke up. Floating as a spirit above my own decaying body, I became a silent witness, waiting for the moment they would finally break down the door and be forced to see what they had done.

Tonight was supposed to be the night I became the happiest woman in D.C., celebrating my engagement at the legendary Bolton Manor gala. I wore emerald silk and a diamond that cost more than most mansions, convinced that Hank Bolton was my soulmate and the key to my family's future. But behind the heavy oak doors of the guest wing, the dream died. I found my fiancé tangled with another woman, laughing about how I was nothing more than a "clueless cash cow" whose inheritance would fund his run for the Senate. In my first life, I reacted with tears and screams, which only allowed his family to paint me as an unstable lunatic. They stripped me of my dignity, bankrupted the Adams estate, and watched coldly as my brother, Lucas, died in a ditch trying to save me. I ended up gasping for air in a burning building, realizing too late that my perfect engagement was actually my execution. I died in the soot and the shadows, feeling the searing heat of a betrayal that burned worse than the fire. I lost everything because I was too blind to see the monsters hiding behind expensive smiles. But then, I suddenly gasped for air and realized the smoke was gone. I was standing in front of a vanity, the calendar mocking me: October 14th. The night of the gala. I had been given a second chance, and this time, I wasn't going to be the victim. I recorded the betrayal on my phone and walked into the library with a heart made of ice. I didn't just blow up the engagement; I demanded a new groom—Hank’s "invalid" older brother, Dereck, a man the world had written off as a dying recluse. "I'll take him," I told the stunned family. I wanted a husband who couldn't cheat, a puppet who would leave me a wealthy widow within a year. I thought I was choosing a safe, broken man to shield me from my enemies. I didn't know that under his blanket, Dereck was hiding a holster, or that the "dying" man was actually a predator who had been waiting for someone exactly like me to walk into his trap.

I spent three years as the perfect, silent wife to billionaire Ezequiel Sanford, enduring a marriage colder than the marble floors of our Manhattan mansion. The day I finally saw two pink lines on a pregnancy test was the same day my world burned down. I found Ezequiel at the hospital, but he wasn't there for me. He was cradling his ex-girlfriend, Alexa, with a gentleness he had never shown me, while my own father was being rushed into the ICU after a suicide attempt triggered by our family's bankruptcy. Instead of comfort, Ezequiel handed me divorce papers. He had checked a box that read "No Issue of Marriage," effectively erasing any claim I had to his legacy. He blackmailed me, promising to save my father’s company only if I signed away every cent of alimony and walked away with nothing. When Alexa called him claiming an emergency, Ezequiel shoved me aside so violently I hit the sharp corner of his glass desk. As I collapsed to the floor, clutching my abdomen in sudden, searing pain, he didn't even look back. "Stop acting," he sneered, his voice dripping with disgust. "It’s pathetic. I will never love you, Claudia, no matter how many times you fall down." He walked out to be with her, leaving me bleeding on his office carpet with the secret he had spent years trying to avoid. He thought I was a gold-digger faking a crisis, never realizing I was actually carrying the Sanford heir he claimed didn't exist. Now, I’m hiding in a private clinic while my husband’s security team scours the city for me. My childhood friend just handed me a one-way ticket to Paris and a chance to restart the medical career I sacrificed for a lie. The money just hit my father's account. I’m signing the papers and disappearing. By the time Ezequiel realizes what he’s lost, I’ll be a world away, and he’ll never even know my child’s name.

For three years, I documented my husband Ashton's neglect in a secret ledger I called "The Song of a Hundred Reasons." Each forgotten anniversary and dismissive glance was a point deducted from a hundred. When the points hit zero, I would walk away. The final reason came not as a quiet slight, but as a deafening crash. When a massive chandelier fell towards us in a restaurant, Ashton didn't hesitate. He shoved his "best friend" Bailey to safety, shielding her with his body while I was left to be crushed. I woke up in the hospital with broken ribs and a severe concussion. He never visited. Instead, he spent a fortune on a private med-jet to fly Bailey to a luxury retreat for her "panic attack." Her well-being was paramount; mine was an afterthought. That was the final reason. I signed the divorce papers from my hospital bed and never looked back. Two years later, holding a Grammy for my hit album "Song of a Hundred Reasons," he showed up, begging for a second chance.

For eight months, my Alpha husband Derek smiled as he rubbed my swollen belly, discussing nursery names. I thought he was excited. Then I found the hidden medical file: Vasectomy. One year ago. Irreversible. He believed my pregnancy was a betrayal. But instead of confronting me, he planned a public execution of my dignity. At the pack gala, he and his mistress drugged me with Wolfsbane. Paralyzed and helpless, I was forced to listen as they took bets from the crowd on who the "real" father was. When the pain started and I felt the life slipping from my womb, I screamed for him through our Mind-Link. "Let the bastard die," he replied coldly, severing the bond. I miscarried on the ballroom floor while they laughed. They thought I was broken. They were wrong. I sent him a box containing the remains, accompanied by a forged DNA test proving the child was his. I watched from the shadows as his sanity shattered under the weight of "killing his own heir." Now, he sits in a maximum-security asylum, howling in grief for a son that never truly belonged to him. I sip my champagne in First Class, leaving the wreckage behind. The sterilization had worked perfectly. The baby wasn't his. But as long as he suffers, the truth doesn't matter.

I watched the man I was contractually bound to marry dive into the freezing water. But he wasn't swimming toward me. Only seconds prior, his mistress had shoved me into the ornamental pool. I struggled to surface, my heavy silk dress dragging me down like a lead weight. Jax, the ruthless Underboss of Chicago, swam right past me. He reached for the woman who had pushed me, scooping her up as she faked a leg cramp. He carried her out, stepping over my hand as I clawed at the slippery edge. Every Capo and soldier in the underworld watched the heir choose a jersey chaser over his fiancée. "You are making a scene, Eliana," Jax said, his voice devoid of emotion. "Go home." He didn't offer a hand. He ordered me away like a disobedient dog. Later that night, when I tried to return his ring, his mistress laughed and shoved me down a flight of stairs. I lay at the bottom, broken and bleeding. Jax didn't check if I was alive. He comforted her instead. To him, I was just furniture. A guarantee. He thought he had broken me. He thought I had nowhere to go because our families were allied. He was wrong. I left the five-carat diamond on the table. I left my car keys on the dashboard at O'Hare Airport. I didn't just run away. I boarded a one-way flight to New York to join his mortal enemy, the Tran Syndicate. Jax Little thought he owned the board. He didn't realize the Queen had just defected.

At our company's launch party, while I was pregnant with our child, my husband's COO, Dorian, slid her hand into his. She leaned in and purred that she was already "taking care of" his unique needs, a public declaration of their affair. My husband, Bryon, just laughed nervously, his classic tell when he was caught. The next morning, after I'd made the gut-wrenching decision to terminate our pregnancy, I saw them again. I stumbled and fell to the pavement. Bryon rushed to my side, but when Dorian faked a dizzy spell, he abandoned me on the ground without a second thought to cradle her in his arms. Lying there, forgotten on the dirty sidewalk, I finally understood. He didn't just cheat; he had no care for me or the child I had just lost. All my love and sacrifice meant nothing. As he walked away with her, I pulled out my phone. "Dad," I said, my voice ice-cold, "Pull every penny from AuraTech. And get me the best lawyers. I need divorce papers and a termination of pregnancy consent form. Tonight."

The charity gala was suffocating, a gilded cage where I, Jocelyn Duncan, watched my husband, Andrew, openly parade his mistress Maria, making my irrelevance a public spectacle. Our five-year-old twin sons, Caleb and Jayden, in an innocent accident, spilled chocolate mousse on Maria, provoking Andrew to condemn them to a brutal desert "behavioral correction camp." I begged, humiliated myself, but he was unmoved; my babies were ripped from my arms, their screams echoing as Andrew watched with chilling indifference. Hours later, driving through the arid landscape to rescue them with my sister-in-law Molly, my phone buzzed with an Instagram notification: Andrew' s sonogram announcement with Maria, "A new chapter begins." At that exact moment, police officers emerged from the camp gates and delivered a horrifying truth: my sons, Caleb and Jayden, had died from dehydration and heatstroke. My world shattered, but Andrew, when I called, laughed and accused me of melodramatic lies, dismissing their deaths as a tactic for attention. How could he deny them, our own children, who had just died from his callous cruelty, while he celebrated a new life that would never know theirs? I had nothing left but an unbearable, burning agony, and a single, unyielding resolve: I would leave the shattered remains of my life with him, taking my sons' memory and only my unbreakable will to survive.

A phone call from my oldest friend, Wendy, ripped through the quiet of my garage. Her panicked voice claimed ruthless bikers had taken her, demanding I fix their custom bikes for her freedom. Without a second thought, I sped into the Mojave desert to rescue her. But when I arrived, Wendy betrayed me, knocking me out and delivering me to a biker gang. I came to, discovering the bikes-thirteen identical, menacing machines-were ones I had custom-built years ago for their enigmatic leader, Deacon. Imprisoned in a foul container, I risked everything, engraving my unique mechanic's mark on a spark plug for Mama Fuller to relay to Deacon, hoping he'd remember me. Yet, Wendy, my supposed sister, shrieked out my secret to Ryan, the gang' s sadistic interim leader. He retaliated by shooting Mama Fuller and throwing a gun on the floor, demanding Wendy and I fight to the death. As I lunged for the weapon, bracing for the worst, I couldn't comprehend how my life had plunged into such a brutal nightmare. Now, trapped in a world of violence and betrayal, I must confront the past I thought I'd buried and fight for a future I never imagined.

For ten years, I, Jocelyn Chavez, the First Lady, was a prisoner in a gilded cage, enduring my President husband' s public humiliations with his mistress. But then, I heard his chilling confession: he framed my family for treason, destroyed my father, imprisoned my brother, and now planned my "accidental" death to make his mistress the next First Lady. My world shattered as he orchestrated my public downfall, forcing me to confess to poisoning his mistress's son and leveraging my daughter' s life to make me admit I was "unstable" before the press. Every humiliation, every lie, every wound-each cut deeper than the last, culminating in him telling me my mother was dead and then plotting to terminate our unborn child. But he didn't know the old Jocelyn was gone; I was fighting back, and the explosion that rocked D.C., supposedly claiming my life and my daughter's, was my masterpiece, not his.

The smell of smoke and burning flesh still felt real on my skin. I woke up gasping, my hands flying to my throat, expecting to feel the char and ruin from the fire I died in. But I was back in my own bed, weeks before the Lone Star Smoke-Off, the competition that ended my life. My father, Andrew Johns, the patriarch of the famous Johns barbecue dynasty, stood by my side, feigning pride while secretly grooming my half-sister, Gabrielle, to steal my legacy. They' d sabotaged me before, but this time, it was more than just a competition. I discovered my mother' s hidden diary, revealing the horrifying truth: my father poisoned her to seize the family empire and erase her, and me. Returning to the competition, they stripped me of everything-my smoker, my reputation, even my mother' s last memento, the "Whiskey River" grill. I was left with nothing but the burning humiliation and the phantom pains of a betrayal that led to my death. How could the man who raised me be a murderer? And how could I, disarmed and discredited, fight back against a conspiracy that spans generations and seems to defy logic? This time, I was playing for keeps. I vowed that vengeance would be served, slow and hot, even if I had to become the fire itself.

For seven years, I poured my entire life into Caleb, believing his success was ours, even buying his mother an expensive Thanksgiving gift in hopes of finally being accepted. But the moment I walked in, my world shattered: Caleb' s high school sweetheart, Maria, was there with a five-year-old boy who called Caleb "Daddy!" The entire dinner became a public humiliation. Caleb treated me like a stranger, his mother doted on the boy as her "perfect little grandson," and then Maria cried, making the child slap me. When Caleb and his mother demanded I apologize, he didn't even flinch when I walked out, instead grabbing my arm and hitting me for "being dramatic." That' s when I saw the expensive drafting set I bought for his "nephew" through my money-it was for Maria's son. I walked out, leaving him, our shattered fantasy, and every belief I had held about us behind, ready to reclaim my life.

My father' s funeral was two days ago. Today, I married his killer. Five years later, I thought I had a quiet, comfortable life with Ethan, my steady, perfect husband who' d saved me from ruin. He was my rock, my savior, the only good thing left. Then, at a high-profile industry party, I slipped behind a potted plant and heard voices: Ethan and my ex-fiancé, Dylan. Dylan sneered, revealing their masterpiece of a scheme – Ethan had orchestrated my father' s bankruptcy and subsequent death just to get me to marry him, a sick consolation prize, all while pining over another woman, Scarlett. My world shattered. The man who held me as I grieved my father was the one who destroyed him. The lies didn' t stop there. I discovered his toxic obsession with Scarlett, a decade-long shrine of photos, and a horrifying plan in his notes: he paid someone to destroy my father' s last gifts to me. The final blow? A will leaving everything to Scarlett, not me, his wife. How could I have been so blind? My entire five-year marriage was a calculated lie, a twisted cover-up, not for love, but for guilt and a sick obsession. He didn't just ruin my family; he stole my choices, piece by piece. The next morning, Scarlett came to my house, a cruel victory lap as she planned a photoshoot within the home she expected to inherit. Ethan, my "loving" husband, rushed to her side when she faked a fall and screamed at me, then refused to believe me. After I collapsed, I woke up in a hospital bed to the news I' d had a miscarriage. Then Scarlett appeared again, casually admitting Ethan had been giving me "harmless" pills for years to prevent me from getting pregnant with his child. She then shoved me down the stairs. That' s when the fog cleared. I walked out of that hospital, leaving a single note: I want a divorce. No looking back.

My quiet life in the sprawling Hawthorne estate was a secret dedication, for I was their Guardian Angel, my well-being intertwined with their immense fortune. A scholarship student, I focused on my books, a delicate porcelain dove on my desk, a silent reminder of my crucial, hidden role. This peaceful existence shattered when Brooke Ashley, my cousin Ethan's jealous fiancée, burst in, leveling wild accusations of grants "stolen" and spells "whispered." Her rage culminated as she deliberately smashed my heirloom porcelain dove, its sharp fragments gashing my forehead. The attack spiraled into a nightmare: Brooke and her friends disfigured my face with a letter opener, ripped my clothes, and even tried to brand me with a hot lighter, while the family butler betrayed me, diminishing my sacred status to save himself. When Ethan's father, Marcus Sr., arrived, instead of salvation, he saw only scandal, and pressed a thick pillow over my face, attempting to suffocate me. As I struggled for breath, the realization hit me: the very family whose prosperity I safeguarded was willing to commit murder to bury their cruel secret, sacrificing their own destiny just to silence me. How could they, knowing the ancient pact, extinguish the source of their own success with such monstrous indifference? In my final moments of darkness, the door burst open, and my childhood friend, Liam Hawthorne, my true protector, pulled me back from the brink of oblivion, promising a new beginning and a devastating reckoning for those who dared to defy fate.

For eight long years, I was trapped in Richard Blackwood’s mansion, an agreement to care for his son, Ethan, after my sister Eleanor’s death, but I called it a cage. Just as my contract neared its end, Ethan accused me publicly at a glittering gala, screaming that I was trying to replace his mother. Richard, ever the dismissive patriarch, instantly took his son’s side, leaving me humiliated and isolated. His cold indifference deepened when Ethan destroyed my sentimental belongings, culminating in the heart-wrenching death of my beloved dog, Buddy, at Ethan’s hands, which Richard shrugged off as an accident. He even tried to offer me the freedom from birth control as a ‘favor’ for my service, then brought in a younger Eleanor look-alike, Tiffany, to openly replace me. How could they consistently strip away my dignity and dismiss my grief, only to then try and buy my loyalty back? The pain was a constant throb, yet my resolve hardened with each calculated insult and dismissal. My breaking point came when Ethan, echoing Tiffany’s cruel words, shot me with a slingshot as I left, delivering a final, petty wound. That moment snapped the last lingering thread of attachment; I dropped a silver charm at his feet, definitively severing our tie. I picked up my bag, ignored Richard’s threats, and walked out the door, knowing my true freedom, and a new life, awaited in Montana.

A tale of love and romance unfolds when Rita is forced to sleep with Charles at the orders of her husband. After a sweet taste of that nectar in the dark, Charles decides to save her from that ruthless husband and solve all her troubles in an effort to keep her around himself all the time. Finally, her broken heart is healed at Charles's hand.

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.

As a wolfless charity case at the Hyde Pack's celebration, my world shattered when Braydon, my supposed protector, publicly announced Katherine Parrish as his Luna, erasing me. Heartbroken, I fled into a terrifying contract marriage with Alpha King Dallas Marshall for protection. Braydon's public assault and threats forced me to reveal my secret marriage, challenging the King. My "protection" felt like a prison. Braydon revealed I was a "key" to power, not a mate, confirming my fears. Enraged by my attempt to take a morning-after pill, Dallas forced me to swallow it, then branded my lips with a furious kiss. His chilling silence hardened my resolve. I immediately drafted an addendum to our contract, setting strict boundaries to reclaim control.

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.

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.

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.

All my life, I've been the backup daughter. My sister Beatrice got everything-love, attention, the golden child treatment.I got leftovers and reminders I wasn't good enough. Until I discovered Niall,gorgeous Alpha from the neighboring pack,was my fated mate. Finally, my turn to be chosen. God, I was naive. Four years of engagement hell.Bleaching my hair to suit his tastes. Squeezing into tight dresses, playing his personal maid-only to hear I'd make a better servant than mate. All because his heart belonged to my sister. That night,I accidentally knocked over their picture frame. He slapped me. Hard. Said I'd never measure up to her. So I slapped him back, tore up their photo, and accepted rejection. I thought it was over. Until I caught them at the club, laughing about how pathetic my four years of trying had been. The whole engagement was their sick game. Drunk and furious, I did something reckless with my mysterious neighbor. Alpha Hudson -face carved by gods, danger in every perfectly tailored line. Most importantly, he's my ex's nemesis. So? Best sex of my life. I thought it was a one-night stand to forget. Wrong Again. He's richer than Niall, more powerful than my family, and infinitely more dangerous. And he's not letting me go. This time, I won't be anybody's second choice.

Life was a bed of roses for Debra, the daughter of Alpha. That was until she had a one-night stand with Caleb. She was sure he was her mate as determined by Moon Goddess. But this hateful man refused to accept her. Weeks passed before Debra discovered that she was pregnant. Her pregnancy brought shame to her and everyone she loved. Not only was she driven out, but her father was also hunted down by usurpers. Fortunately, she survived with the help of the mysterious Thorn Edge Pack. Five years passed and Debra didn't hear anything from Caleb. One day, their paths crossed again. They were both on the same mission-carrying out secret investigations in the dangerous Roz Town for the safety and posterity of their respective packs. Caleb was still cold toward her. But as time went on, he fell head over heels in love with her. He tried to make up for abandoning her, but Debra wasn't having any of it. She was hell-bent on hiding her daughter from him and also making a clean break. What did the future hold for the two as they journeyed in Roz Town? What kind of secrets would they find? Would Caleb win Debra's heart and get to know his lovely daughter? Find out!

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?

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.

I thought nothing could hurt more than being betrayed by my mate, until I found out he married my friend behind my back! One night. One mistake. One unforgettable encounter with the one wolf I was never meant to touch: The cold, dangerous Alpha. My ex's sexy older brother. It was supposed to be meaningless. Then I woke up marked. and very much not alone. Turns out, the real danger wasn't sleeping with the wrong brother... It's that he never planned to let me go.