Max. A

At thirteen, Delphie was sold to Alpha Everet Scott as a bargaining chip, right after her mother was brutally beaten into a coma to protect her. To keep her alive with his pack's healing spring, Delphie became Everet's unacknowledged Omega, enduring seven years of relentless bullying and his cold, unpredictable possessiveness. When her first Heat approached, she planned a desperate escape, only to stumble upon a plot to assassinate Everet. She fought off the attackers to survive, but when the dust settled, the person clapping in the shadows was her mother. She wasn't in a coma. She was perfectly healthy. "Your suffering was a necessary sacrifice." Her mother revealed that Delphie's seven years of misery, the beatings, the humiliation—even the assassination plot tonight—were all meticulously orchestrated by her. Delphie was never a daughter to her. She was just a highly trained piece of bait, designed to bind Everet to her so her mother could use his power for her ultimate revenge. Before Delphie could even process the betrayal, her mother drugged her and threw her straight into the assassins' trap alongside a poisoned, dying Everet. "When you wake up, you will be the star of the show." As Delphie sucked the deadly silver toxin from Everet's chest to keep him alive, feeling the Mate bond seal between them, her tears finally dried up. If she was destined to be a pawn in her mother's deadly game, she would become the player who flips the board.

Faye spent three months of secret commissions to buy a limited-edition watch for her boyfriend's anniversary. But when she keyed into his apartment, she found the red-soled heels she had just gifted her best friend, Penelope, kicked carelessly on the floor. Through the crack in the bedroom door, she saw them tangled in the sheets, with her boyfriend murmuring that Faye had no idea what she was missing. Devastated, Faye got blackout drunk and accidentally woke up in the bed of Julian Carlisle—Penelope's ruthless, billionaire stepbrother, who coldly offered her a check to buy her silence. As if that wasn't humiliating enough, when Faye returned home, she found her own mother and brother comforting a fake-crying Penelope. Her mother even took the diamond necklace meant for Faye's upcoming 21st birthday and fastened it around Penelope's neck to make up for Faye causing a scene. "Faye Hayes, you will apologize to Penelope right now, or you won't get another dime from this family." Faye stared at her mother, the betrayal freezing her blood. She was the one who had been cheated on, yet her own flesh and blood were treating her like a liability. Why was she always the outcast, stripped of everything while her abusers played the victim? The last frayed thread of hope for her family's love died in that instant. Instead of apologizing, Faye walked right up to Penelope, grabbed the diamond necklace, and violently ripped it from her throat. It was time to stop begging for affection and start burning it all down.

I spent years poring over ancient medical texts, working tirelessly as an Omega healer just to prove myself worthy of my fated mate, Alpha Jaxon. But he treated me like dirt, preferring the company of my best friend, Beta Serena. They even made a cruel bet in the dining hall, using my sacred mate bond as a jealous joke to win a rare dessert. The ultimate betrayal came during a critical emergency surgery. Serena's hand trembled, dropping a silver scalpel that sliced an Elder's vein and nearly killed him. Instead of holding her accountable, Jaxon used his Alpha Command to force me to my knees. "How could you make such a rookie mistake? You almost killed the Elder, Chloe!" He wasn't blind. He knew exactly what happened. But he deliberately blamed me to protect his perfect Beta's reputation, sacrificing my hard-earned career and letting the council publicly humiliate me. I had dedicated my entire life to soothing the beast inside him, and Serena was the loyal girl who used to defend me from bullies. I couldn't understand how the two people I trusted most could sacrifice me without a second thought. But as I looked at their cold, unapologetic faces, the heavy iron chain of our mate bond finally snapped deep within my chest. I calmly handed in my resignation, rejected the Alpha, and packed my bags. It was time to leave this toxic pack for good, and awaken the ancient White Wolf bloodline dormant in my veins.

I was Asset 7, a "ghost" kept in a high-security facility with no memory and paralyzed vocal cords. My only value was my silence, making me the perfect disposable tool for the world's elite. Everything changed when I was sold to Culver Lancaster, a media billionaire drugged with a dangerous synthetic aphrodisiac. His staff needed a woman who couldn't talk, couldn't sue, and didn't exist in any official directory. They scrubbed my skin raw like a piece of meat and threw me into a dark penthouse with a man who had lost his mind to the drug. Culver didn't treat me like a human; he choked me against a door and used my body as a shield against his own madness. When I tried to run, his security hunted me down with dogs, and Culver threw me into a freezing wine cellar. I spent days in total darkness, starving and dehydrated, lapping dirty water off the floor just to stay alive. I lay on that cold stone, wondering why my life had become a series of cages and scars. I couldn't even scream to let the world know I was dying. How could a man claim to protect me while treating me like a disposable object? But when Culver finally came to the cellar to feed me, I didn't surrender. I bit him hard enough to draw blood, watching the shock in his eyes as I communicated the only way I could. Now, I wear the silk uniform and the velvet mask he bought for me, playing the role of his obedient "Shadow." Culver thinks he owns a broken girl he can lock in a velvet panic room, but I'm a weapon who just found her target. Every kiss is a reconnaissance mission, and I'm going to burn his empire to the ground.

For ten years, I waited for my childhood sweetheart, Adonis, to marry me. But every year, our future was delayed by a ridiculous family ritual where he had to draw a "Fortunate" tarot card. For three years, he drew the "Unfortunate" card, enduring brutal penance that left him scarred and broken. I believed it was fate. Then, on the fourth year, I saw him draw the Fortunate card. My heart soared. We were finally free. But in a swift, practiced move, he swapped it for an Unfortunate one, choosing more suffering. I was frozen in shock. Later, I overheard him confess to his cousin. He' d been swapping the cards for four years. He couldn't marry me yet because of his assistant, Ariel. She' d threatened to do something drastic if he left her. He said he owed her. My world shattered. Every lash he took, every moment of pain I shared, was a lie. A charade performed for another woman. He had chosen his guilt for her over his love for me. He even accused me of monstrous cruelty based on her lies, shouting, "I can't believe I wasted ten years on someone so vindictive. Apologize to Ariel. Now." That was the moment I knew the man I loved was gone. So, I left. I flew to Hong Kong and married another man. But just as I found my new beginning, Adonis burst in, his eyes wild with regret, begging me to come back. And right behind him was Ariel, her face twisted with madness, a gleaming knife in her hand.

My name is Arlie Stevens, and I was a mute girl who grew up in the shadows of the Rust Belt. My street art was our daily bread, and Bowen McClure was my protector, my first love, and my voice. But the boy who once fought off bullies for me decided to climb the social ladder by getting engaged to a ruthless corporate heiress, Kassandra Woodard. On their engagement night, Kassandra falsely accused me of ruining her gown. Bowen, my Bowen, publicly whipped me as punishment to appease her family. He told me it was to protect me, a necessary evil. Then he locked me in my room. As the party's fireworks lit up the sky, I smelled smoke. The apartment was on fire, and the door was locked from the outside. Through the flames, I heard Kassandra's voice, "Bowen locked her in. He wanted her out of the way." He didn't just abandon me; he tried to burn me alive. But I survived. And when a broken, guilt-ridden Bowen finally found me years later, begging for forgiveness after destroying the woman who orchestrated it all, I had only one thing to say to him.

For seven years, I was his secret. His brilliant, naive Elodie. Last night, he held me and called me his future. Today, his sister, my best friend, showed me the pictures from his engagement party. My life's work, a revolutionary bio-printed kidney, was meant to save his dying fiancée. But then I overheard his real plan. If my research failed, he had a backup. "She's got a nice pair of kidneys," he told his friends. "Perfect match." He'd secretly filmed our most intimate moments, blackmail to force me onto the operating table. I wasn't his love. I was his insurance policy. A spare part. He thought he had me cornered. He underestimated his "naive little scientist." So I faked my death and disappeared. Five years later, I'm back, my name on the cover of every scientific journal. And he's about to find out that the woman he tried to butcher is now the one who holds his entire world in her hands.

At my ten-week ultrasound, I was supposed to be celebrating the future of the Falcone family. I was Isabella Falcone, wife to the most powerful Don in the south. But when the nurse called my name, the man who stood up beside his pregnant mistress was my husband. In the sterile silence of that waiting room, he chose her. He later confessed he was being blackmailed by her family—a weakness that was a death sentence in our world. That night, he moved his mistress into our home, into my bedroom, and locked me away like a prisoner in the staff quarters. He wasn't imprisoning his wife; he was guarding an asset. He needed the legitimate heir I carried to save his crumbling empire. His betrayal was absolute when his own mother and my adoptive parents arrived while he was away. They forced me to sign divorce papers, then told me they were taking me to a clinic. His mother pulled out a gun and pointed not at my head, but at my stomach. "We're terminating this complication," she said coldly. As they dragged me from the house, my world went dark. But through the haze, I saw a fleet of black cars blocking the gate. An army of men poured out, led by a face I had only ever seen in a photograph. Days earlier, locked in my room, I made a single phone call to the only man more powerful than my husband: my biological father, the head of the Chicago Outfit. And he had come to collect his daughter.

The sterile scent of a hospital clung to me, even in my own sun-drenched room. Today was the presentation, the day my life was supposed to begin. Instead, it ended. Memories, sharp and brutal, flooded back: me, confidently presenting my skyscraper design. Then, the fatal error: File Not Found. My mother, Eleanor, fussing over my desk the night before, "accidentally" deleting everything. My father, Richard, dismissing my tears, "Listen to your mother. She knows what's best." My brother, Liam, smirking, "A skyscraper isn' t as important as Mom, is it?" Later that night, Eleanor offered a thick, green smoothie. "A special health smoothie, just for you." I drank it, trusting her. Minutes later, the tightening throat, the hives, the desperate fight for air. Anaphylactic shock. I was severely allergic to kiwi, and the smoothie was full of it. As my vision tunneled, I saw my family. They weren't calling 911. They were comforting Eleanor, who sobbed into my father' s shoulder. Liam shook his head, "She' s always so dramatic." And then, nothing. Until now. Waking up here. I saw the date on my phone. It was Wednesday morning. The day of the presentation. Cold, hard clarity settled over me. They hadn't just sabotaged my dream; they' d tried to kill me to control me. And now, I was back. Back to build a new blueprint. A blueprint for their ruin.

For ten years, I was Ethan Vance, the Silicon Valley "fixer," the "soul mediator" everyone trusted to clear digital ghosts and optimize karma. Then Kevin, my girlfriend Sarah' s adopted brother, showed up with his charming lies and half-price "digital shaman" tricks, stealing my clients and my reputation bit by bit. My downfall culminated in a botched "karma optimization" where the client died a gruesome digital death, Kevin vanished, and I was framed for his sabotage. The mogul' s enraged family and my disgruntled former clients, convinced I was a greedy fraud, beat me to death, unable to scream the truth about Kevin' s betrayal. But then, I opened my eyes, and I was back-standing in a luxurious smart home, the day before my life crumbled, the tech CEO handing me a data chip, Sarah and Kevin by my side; this time, things would be different.

The cold moonlight painted shadows across the floor, doing nothing to warm the chill that had settled deep in my bones as I knelt before my husband, Valerius. Just a year ago, he had promised me forever, swearing he' d always be my shield. Now, he looked at me with cold disgust. "Explain this," he demanded, tearing open my nightgown to reveal the withered flower branded into my shoulder – a symbol of shame, a mark of the lowest. Tears welled, blurring his furious face. I couldn' t tell him the truth, a horrific secret I' d sworn to keep to protect him. He shoved me away, calling me soiled, then laughed cruelly, refusing to "dirty his hands" on me, before storming out, slamming the door on everything we were. Driven by desperation, I tried to carve the mark off, nearly taking my life before my maid, Clara, stopped me, suggesting a brutal herbal remedy instead. The agony was blinding, but I endured it, for him, for us, for the love I yearned to reclaim. With a raw, weeping scar where the brand once was, I found him, hoping to see a flicker of the man I knew. He stared at my wound, then laughed, a short, ugly sound. "A scar is just as ugly as a brand. It proves nothing." My hope shattered, he delivered the final blow: he was marrying my cousin, Isabella, in a week. The physical pain from my scar was nothing compared to the gaping wound he' d torn in my chest, leaving me an empty void.

The house was eerily silent, the kind of quiet that sinks into your bones. Ethan searched every empty room, calling her name, but only the silence echoed back. Then he saw it on the kitchen island: a divorce agreement, her elegant signature a final, chilling statement. He raced to all their special spots-the bookstore, the café, the park where he proposed-but she was nowhere. Finally, he arrived at the art studio he' d built for her, a sanctuary poured out of his millions, only to find it as desolate as his heart. Her drafting table was bare, canvases gone-everything that made it hers, vanished. He remembered her warning, words brushed off as a lover's insecurity: "I don't tolerate betrayal. Even once, and I'll vanish completely." He' d laughed then, sure he' d never give her cause. But the words now echoed, a haunting judgment. Thousands of miles away, the woman who was once Ava whispered, "From now on, there is no Ava. Only Olivia." A news article flashed on her phone: "Real Estate Mogul Ethan and Architect Wife Ava: A Perfect Partnership." Perfect, she scoffed, a bitter laugh in the quiet taxi. It had all been a perfect lie, and she, the architect who built dreams, was about to meticulously dismantle his.

My husband, Mark, and I had built a life on a promise: dual incomes, no kids. For our freedom, our shared dreams, he even urged me to get a hysterectomy. I agreed, believing it cemented our bond. Years later, he brought home two “orphans,” Kevin and Kate. They were small, dark-haired, and oddly resembled Emily White, his high school flame, now a rising exec in my own company. I played the loving mother, pouring my heart and billions into them for eighteen years. Then, at their fake graduation party—a party for a future they weren’t remotely qualified for—Mark cornered me. With a smug grin, he demanded I sign over my entire multi-billion dollar empire to Kevin and Kate. Emily White glided over, divorce papers in hand, her voice dripping with venom: “Thank you for taking care of Mark and *my* children. It’s time for our family.” My parents’ pleas and warnings were ignored as I signed away everything. I watched my life unravel, my legacy stolen by the people I cherished most. The children I raised, his own blood with Emily, mocked me. As I lay bleeding on the asphalt, victims of their orchestrated “accident,” Kevin even kicked me, “Stupid old bitch.” Kate laughed, “Thanks for the money, Mom.” Dying, the betrayal was unbearable, a sharp, cold satisfaction mixed with burning rage. Why? How could they? The injustice screamed, a silent vow forged in darkness. Then, light. I woke up. Back at that dinner table, years ago, where Mark first uttered the word “hysterectomy.” This wasn’t a second chance. This was my turn. My eighteen-year revenge began now.

Our engagement felt like a fairytale, complete with a gleaming diamond and seven years of shared history. I believed Michael and I were building our future, hand in hand. But at the annual gala, the illusion shattered. Michael was on the dance floor, not with me, but intimately whispering to his intern, Jessica. Moments later, in his car, I found a diamond necklace – not for me, as he coldly snatched it away. “That’s not for you,” he said, his voice flat. From then on, the disrespect spiraled. He threw Jessica's misplaced scarf at me, denigrated my dream wedding dress, and abandoned me for her petty dramas. My health issues were met with harsh insults and dismissed as “bad manners.” While he flaunted Jessica online, I was expected to cater to her bizarre demands, like making special chia seed pudding for her made-up “episodes.” Each blow chipped away at my belief. How could the man I’d dedicated seven years to treat me with such casual cruelty? Was I truly so disposable? The overheard truth pierced deepest: “Love Sarah? Not really. But she’s been around like a puppy…” No more. The tears dried. I cut my wedding dress into ribbons, packed my bags, and left him a note: “We’re done.” He could chase, she could scheme, but my patience was exhausted. My life, finally, was mine again.

Their encounter was a mistake. Natalie mistook Carter for the senior she had a crush on, so she saved him from danger and even gave him her first time. To get him out of trouble, she married his young brother, but the one she loved was him. As finding her pregnancy, she got nothing but his suspicion. To get things worse, she ended up with losing her child and her beloved father. A car accident took away all her memories and she came back three years later. When they meet, it's her turn to strike back. It's a game of wit and brawn as she tried to avenge all the memories and people she had lost.

I was waiting at the Registry Hall to formalize my mate bond with Gabe, my childhood sweetheart and the Alpha of our pack. He was thirty-two minutes late. When I finally found him in a private VIP lounge, his hands were buried in my cousin's hair, their lips locked together. Hailee was supposed to be my maid of honor. Instead of apologizing, Gabe looked me dead in the eye and used his Alpha authority to publicly reject me. The severing of our ten-year bond tore my soul apart, but the nightmare didn't stop there. My grandfather immediately called, demanding I clean up a mess Hailee had made. When I refused, he disowned me on the spot, froze every single one of my bank accounts, and stripped me of my family name. Within hours, my entire pack erased my existence, gleefully announcing Hailee as their new Luna. I had given my entire life to a family and a man who discarded me like worthless trash the second I became inconvenient. I was left broken, humiliated, and utterly penniless in the blink of an eye. But as I stumbled out of that sterile hall, a terrifyingly beautiful stranger stepped out of the shadows, radiating a primal power that made my knees weak. He was Caden Sinclair, the ruthless Lycan King, and he was dodging a forced political union of his own. "You need a shield. I need a wife. Marry me." Without hesitation, I signed the Eternal Vow.

Fear follows Alpha Samson wherever he goes. As the ruthless leader of the Blackthorn pack, he and his beast, Savage, bow to no one. But when a haunting scent leads him to a neighboring pack's dungeon, he finds his fated mate-bloody, broken, and chained to the wall. Alora is a half-wolf, half-witch hybrid falsely accused and left to die. But her abusers made one fatal mistake: they touched the mate of a monster. Rescued by the fierce Alpha, Alora begins a journey of healing that uncovers a lifetime of lies. She isn't just a survivor; she's a weapon. Together, Samson and Alora will unleash hell on those who wronged her, unearthing dark family secrets and claiming the crown that was stolen from her birth.

I was three months pregnant when the car hit me. Lying there, barely hanging on, I called my husband-Alpha Ethan-over and over. No answer. When I finally woke up from the pain, I saw a post from his first love, Ivy. "Thank you, Alpha, for knowing how scared I am of the dark and staying with me all night. He even cleared his whole schedule today to take me to the auction, just to give me the best gift in the world. I'm so happy!" Right then, it hit me. While I was fighting to protect our child, he was with another she-wolf. I calmly liked her post and put my phone away. Since he chose his first love, I chose to let go. Seven days from now, I'd leave his world for good-with our child.

For three years, I poured my blood, sweat, and tears into building Blackwood Group for Alec, my Alpha and the man I thought was my mate. But on the day of our work anniversary, I stood outside his office door and heard him talking with his Beta, shattering my entire world. "Kay is just a wolfless Omega, useful for paperwork," Alec sneered coldly. "The bonding ceremony is just a show for the elders. The real Luna, the one who carries the bloodline that matters, is Breanne. I'm transferring all of Kay's core project files to Breanne tomorrow. Let her take the credit." He even texted me later, telling me to wear a blue dress to the upcoming gala because it made me look "obedient." I had turned down a Wharton scholarship for this man. I had spent countless nights fixing his mistakes, building his empire, and giving him my youth. Yet to him, I was nothing but a disposable placeholder, expected to smile and bow while another woman stole my life's work and my place by his side. The agonizing pain in my chest didn't break me; it forged me into ice. I didn't cry, and I certainly didn't beg. Instead, I wiped his servers clean of every strategy I had ever created, left a wax-sealed resignation on his desk, and accepted a job offer from his most ruthless rival.

I died once before, framed for a murder that never happened. I am Princess Fiona Avery of the Blackwood Pack, forced by my father into a political union with Bowen Mayer, heir to a powerful house. In my first life, my husband's mistress faked a pregnancy, accused me of pushing her into a lake, and watched as I was condemned as a murderer. I spent my final days in a mental ward, broken and drugged, until a lethal injection silenced me forever. But the dead don't always stay dead. I opened my eyes on the very day it all went wrong. My tea was still laced with sedative. My husband's footsteps were already pounding down the hall. His weeping mistress was ready to play her part. This time, I don't beg. I don't cry. I don't kneel. I summon the ruthless Gamma of the royal Shadow Guard. I demand the pack doctor examine his precious lover-right here, in front of everyone. I stake my life on a wager I know I cannot lose. They think I'm still the weak, wolfless princess they once destroyed. They have no idea what I've become.

For years, Elara Park endured being called "half-breed" and "weak blood" at pack meetings. Because she was a hybrid wolf, she trusted Zack Blackwood's sweet promises. Then he rejected their fated mate bond moments after claiming her body. Before she could even breathe through the soul-crushing agony, the news was already celebrating his engagement to her vindictive stepsister, Selina. The headlines gushed about their "perfect pureblooded union." Her mother's call came like a final blow: "Elara, you're twenty-three now. It's time you contributed to the family." Marry the worthless second son of a prominent Alpha family or lose her father's empire forever. They had her trapped, ready to steal her birthright and leave her powerless. But as the heartbreak bled out, ice-cold determination took its place. Elara went to the arranged meeting at the city's most exclusive club, determined to turn her mother's matchmaking scheme to her advantage. She would agree to marriage-but on her own terms. When she found who she believed was Damian Sterling in the private suite, she cut straight to business: a contract marriage with clear boundaries, separate lives, and a guaranteed escape route. What she didn't know? The devastatingly dangerous man who'd just signed her contract with a predator's smile wasn't the pathetic playboy she expected. He was Dominic Wolfe-the Alpha King who'd been relentlessly hunting her for years. And now, she'd just signed herself over to him completely.

"This is Virella, my wife." Three years. And that was all Alpha Kaelen gave me. No welcome. No touch. No recognition. Just another woman at his side, carrying his child. While I ruled in his absence, I was nothing more than a placeholder. A Luna he never chose. So I gave up. And I left. One rejection was all it took to break the bond. When I returned, I wasn't the Luna he abandoned. I was untouchable, respected, and feared. And no longer his to claim. Now he watches me like a man drowning... Because the woman he discarded came back as something far beyond his reach. And this time, I didn't come alone. The Alpha of Ebonmoon stands beside me, his presence crushing, and his hand firm on my waist... "Careful, Kaelen," his voice drops, dark with warning. "Rowena isn't yours anymore." His lips brush my temple, possessively. "She's mine. If you try to take her, I'll end you."

Emilia Taylor was the most unwanted daughter of the Frostridge Pack. She had no wolf, no status, and no one who truly loved her. After failing to awaken at the age of twenty-two, she was betrayed by her lover, abandoned by her family, and finally sent by her father to the Silver Moon Pack-to become Sebastian Simons' seventh bride. Sebastian was the Alpha everyone feared. Rumor had it that none of his first six wives had met a good end, and every woman who married him eventually became another name on the list of the dead. Everyone was waiting for Emilia to die. But they did not know that her failed awakening had not left her with nothing. Instead, she had gained the ability to read minds. She could hear the malice and lies hidden behind every smile. Everyone's thoughts were open to her. Except Sebastian's. She could not hear his mind, nor could she see through his secrets. When a wolfless girl abandoned by everyone meets a cold-blooded Alpha haunted by the mystery of six dead wives, will she become his next victim-or the only one who can break the curse?

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.

For sixteen years, I was the cherished noble lady of the Powers Werewolf Manor, spoiled and treasured by everyone around me. But a sudden truth shattered everything I had-I was not of Powers bloodline. After the truth came out, all the love and favor that once belonged to me was completely taken away. The Lord and Lady Powers poured all their tenderness on Corie, their long-lost biological daughter. For Corie's sake, the people who had once doted on me stood by coldly as she framed me and got me wrongfully accused of crimes. They stripped me of my noble status and exiled me to the brutal Blackore Mines, where I was enslaved for three entire years. No one cared for me, no one asked after my wellbeing. Three years passed in the blink of an eye. The Powers couple, who had abandoned me cruelly, came crying to me to repent. "Kara, we were wrong. Come home with us." My arrogant and domineering elder brother Aden knelt outside my small cottage all night, begging me in a low, humble voice. "Kara, can you forgive me?" Derrick came to me covered in fresh, hideous unhealed scars, worn out from endless hardships. His eyes were filled with nothing but regret and longing. "Kara, I'm sorry. Be my mate again." But my heart had died long ago, buried in those endless dark torments and repeated desperate disappointments over the three years. Feel anything for them? I let out a cold laugh. My heart had long withered and turned to dust, without a shred of warmth left. Later, I met someone who loved me wholeheartedly and unconditionally. He protected me at all costs and gave me a peaceful, joyful life I had never had before. Watching me live a happy and stable life, all those who had hurt and wronged me could only stand far away, too timid to take a single step closer. Drowned in remorse and cowardice, they lived in fear that one day, they would even lose the right to watch me from afar for the rest of their lives.