Qing Gongzi

I was devastated when my boyfriend dumped me for my best friend, Candice. To numb the pain, I got blackout drunk and ended up having a wild one-night stand. The next morning, reality hit me like a truck when I realized the man in my bed was Jame Knight. He was Candice's older brother and the most feared, ruthless Alpha in our Pack. He coldly offered me a blank check to buy my silence, and I fled the penthouse in absolute humiliation. But returning home was a worse nightmare. I found my mother had given my late grandmother's precious moonstone necklace to Candice to "comfort" her. When I desperately demanded it back, my own mother and brother violently turned against me. "You are so selfish! Junior chose her because she is better!" They defended my cheating ex's new girlfriend and threw me to the wolves, all because they wanted to suck up to the powerful Knight family. I was completely abandoned by my own blood, my heart turning to ice. Why did my family treat me like trash while treating my tormentor like royalty? If power was the only language they understood, then I needed the ultimate power to crush them all. I pulled out my phone, ready to cash in the one favor Jame Knight owed me. But before I could dial, my mother frantically called me back to the living room. Jame Knight was sitting on our sofa. He placed my repaired necklace on the table, coldly announced to my terrified family that I was under his protection, and declared he was moving in.

Ciel rushed to the VIP hospital suite, terrified by an "urgent" text about her husband's grandmother. Instead, she found her billionaire husband, Dion, tenderly comforting his mistress, Baylie. Dion threw a separation agreement on the table, demanding Ciel take the public blame for his infidelity and leave with nothing. "Sign it," Dion sneered, "or tomorrow morning, every sordid detail of your time in the foster system will be on the front page." He threatened her with her sealed childhood records—the deepest, most painful trauma she had guarded with her life. The cruelty didn't stop there. To protect his mistress's fraudulent charity, Dion used his corporate power to get Ciel suspended from her law firm. Worse, just to punish Ciel, he deliberately funded a known domestic abuser, giving the monster the financial power to take away the children of Ciel's only pro bono client. For three years, Ciel had been a silent, obedient wife. She had endured his coldness, even foolishly hoping for the anniversary diamond necklace that she ultimately saw sparkling around Baylie's neck. How could the man who once vowed to protect her weaponize her deepest scars and destroy innocent lives just to prove he could? But the despair finally burned down to ash. Ciel didn't cry or beg. She calmly left the antique wedding ring on his pillow, shredded their only wedding photo, and completely erased her digital footprint from his world. When Dion finally realized what he had lost, the game had already changed.

I was a Vampire Princess, mated and married to an Alpha werewolf. But our child was neither vampire nor werewolf; he was nothing but a scrawny, feral mutt. In a fit of rage, Kaelen killed him and banished me. To save my baby, I drained every drop of my magic and died completely. Five hundred years after my death, Kaelen came seeking my heart to ensure his new Luna could bear an heir. "Five hundred years... has she learned her lesson? Tell her to offer up her heart, and I might just forgive her this once." But when he finally learned of my death, he fell to his knees before my grave, weeping and begging for forgiveness.

My husband, Hudson Higgins, used my dowry to buy his way into the Chicago underworld while his family treated me like a servant in my own home. I endured their insults for the sake of my five-year-old daughter, Josie. But then, the unthinkable happened. I found Josie's small, lifeless body by the garden fountain, while my sister-in-law Karly and mother-in-law Eleanor stood by, complaining about their party plans. "She was just too naughty," Karly sneered, adjusting her pearls over my dead child. When I turned to Hudson for help, he looked at me with dead eyes and told me it was just her fate. In that moment of absolute grief, I remembered the words of the ruthless Don Damien Falcone: "Your husband is a man who knows how to close a deal." The truth sliced through me like a blade. Hudson hadn't just ignored the Don's interest in me; he had actively sold me to the Devil of Chicago to buy his seat at the table. He let his family punish me for the very sin he committed. I had lost everything-my dignity, my mother, and now my baby-all sacrificed for a man who traded his wife's body for power. The sorrow in my chest evaporated, replaced by a scorching, blinding thirst for a blood vendetta. After lunging at Hudson and feeling the world explode into white, I opened my eyes to find myself back in the winter of 1928. It was the exact night the nightmare began, and Don Damien Falcone was walking toward me in his penthouse. This time, I won't be the broken bird in his gilded cage. If Hudson wants to use me to climb the ranks, I will use the Don's dark obsession to burn the Higgins family to the ground.

My husband gave $250,000 of our life savings to his mistress for a fake surgery. I had sacrificed my own career to build his, and this was my reward. When I confronted him, he twisted our deepest shared trauma into a weapon. "You were so quick to get rid of our first baby, weren't you?" he sneered. His words hit me just hours after I had secretly terminated our second pregnancy-a choice his cruelty had forced upon me. I found him at the hospital comforting her, and he shoved me to the ground in front of a crowd, calling me heartless. He brought her back to our home, wrapping her in my favorite blanket on my sofa, while I was still reeling from the loss of our child. He thought our twenty years together meant I would always forgive him, that our love was a fortress. He was about to learn it was a house of cards, and I was holding the match.

I stood at the edge of the freezing pond on the Boone estate, my body trembling with a fear that rattled my bones. Across from me, Amanda Olsen looked immaculate in her cashmere coat, a sharp contrast to the jagged reality I was trying to hold together. "Why?" I whispered. Amanda just smiled, admitting she killed Grandpa Boone because he actually liked me. She pulled out a thick envelope-divorce papers Cordero had signed that morning. She told me he called me a parasite and was celebrating with her the night I suffered a miscarriage. Before I could even scream, Amanda lunged and shoved me into the icy water. My heavy wool coat acted like a sponge, dragging me into the artificial abyss. I thrashed and gasped for air, but Amanda just stood on the bank, watching me drown with her hands tucked casually in her pockets. As my lungs burned and the darkness closed in, I realized I had spent my entire marriage taking their abuse. I was the "foster trash" and the "gold digger" who let them win every single time. I was dying alone, hated by the husband I had tried so hard to love, while my murderer stood victorious on the shore. I never fought back. I just let them destroy me. Then, a violent spasm tore through my body. I sat up gasping, sucking in dry, air-conditioned oxygen instead of murky pond water. I wasn't dead. I was back in the opulent master suite, surrounded by red rose petals and wedding decorations. The digital clock glowed: October 14, 2019. I had gone back five years to the very night my nightmare began. The bathroom door clicked open, and Cordero stepped out, looking at me with the same cold disgust I remembered. But as I gripped the silk sheets, a new resolve hardened in my chest. This time, I wasn't going to be the victim. This time, the Boone family was going to find out exactly what happens when you push someone too far.

My rival' s lies got me expelled from USC. The fight with my parents that followed was our last; they died in a car crash that night, leaving me with crushing debt and my rebellious brother, Bennie. To save Bennie from jail time over a fight he didn't start, I took a humiliating job at a high-end nightclub, a place where my dignity was the price of admission. There, I was forced to kneel before my ex-fiancé, Demetri. He watched with cold indifference, now engaged to the very woman who destroyed my life. He was even the lawyer for the family Bennie had supposedly bullied, his voice a weapon as he publicly shamed me. He was my everything, yet he believed I was a monster. He stood by as my world crumbled, choosing to defend the woman who orchestrated my downfall. After the truth was finally exposed, he sacrificed everything for me, losing his career and fortune in a desperate attempt at redemption. But it was too late. I had already taken my brother and moved to New York, ready to build a new life and find new love, far from the man who shattered my old one.

The alarm shrieked through the silent mansion, a sound I knew better than my own heartbeat. For fifteen years, I had been Dorian Steele' s living, breathing medicine, my blood the only cure for his fatal seizures. But then, his fiancée, Ainsley, arrived. She was flawless, a vision of cold, stunning beauty, and she looked like she belonged here. He shoved me away from him, pulling the silk sheets up to cover my worn pajamas as if I were something dirty. "Kira, clean this mess up. And get out." He dismissed me like a servant, after clinging to me for life just moments before. The next morning, she sat in my chair, wearing his shirt, a love bite visible on her neck. She taunted me, and when I spilled coffee, he didn't even notice, too busy laughing with her. Later, Ainsley accused me of breaking Eleanor' s prized porcelain vase. Dorian, without question, believed her. He forced me to my knees on the broken shards, the pain searing my flesh. "Apologize," he growled, pressing down on my shoulder. I whispered my apology, each word a surrender. Then, they drained my blood for her, for a fabricated illness. "Ainsley needs this," he said, his voice flat. "She's more important." More important than the girl who had given him her life. I was a resource to be exploited, a well that would never run dry. He had promised he would always protect me, but now he was the one holding the sword. I was nothing more than a pet, a creature he kept for his own survival. But I was done. I accepted an offer from the Estes family, a desperate, archaic idea of a "propitious marriage" to their comatose son, Emmett. It was my only escape.

After donating bone marrow to save my brother, a rare complication put me in a coma for five years. When I woke up, I found my family had replaced me. They had a new daughter, Hailie, a girl who looked just like me. They told me my jealousy over her caused a car crash that forced Hailie and my parents into hiding. To make me atone, my fiancé, Caleb, and my brother locked me in an isolated villa for three years. I was their prisoner, their slave, enduring their beatings because I believed my suffering was the price for my family's safety. Then, a doctor told me I had terminal lung cancer. My body was failing, but my tormentors decided on one last act of "kindness"-a surprise birthday trip to a luxury resort. There, I saw them all. My parents, my brother, my fiancé, and Hailie, alive and well, drinking champagne. I overheard their plan. My torture wasn't penance. It was a "lesson" to break me. My entire life had become a cruel joke. So, on my birthday, I walked to the highest bridge on the island, left behind my medical diagnosis and a recording of Hailie's confession, and jumped.

My husband, David, beamed with pride at our son Ethan' s university acceptance. I sat across the table, a ghost in a designer dress, invisible. I was the silent engine of their success, but tonight, I was out of fuel. That night, a notification from our shared cloud storage revealed David' s secret: a photo album of him and a young flight attendant, Olivia Hayes, on romantic trips. My heart shattered as I recognized a delicate silver necklace on her-the one I' d admired and hinted at to David, which he' d bought for her. When David and Ethan walked in, their laughter died as they found me on the floor, the truth exposed on my phone. David' s anger flared, accusing me of being hysterical, while Ethan, his loyalty firmly with his father, told me not to ruin their night. David then casually tossed a credit card at me, thinking money could fix everything. I refused, my voice clear and steady as they walked away, leaving me alone in the house I had built, a home where I no longer belonged. The man I married, who once vowed "Wherever you go, I will go," had just run to another woman as I lay bleeding on the airport lounge floor after an explosion. He didn't even glance back. That crystal-clear moment solidified everything: he wouldn't save me, he wouldn't even try. I looked at him, the stranger he had become. "I want a divorce, David," I declared, my voice loud and clear, silencing the chaos around us. I knew then that the only thing I regretted was not ending this sooner.

My hands methodically folded a sweater, placing it into an open suitcase on the bed, sharp creases betraying the inner turmoil I tried to hide. Outside, New York City glittered, oblivious, my life' s soundtrack of distant sirens and traffic hum now signaling its end. An email confirmed it: one-way ticket, New York to Rome. Then the elevator dinged. He was home, and he wasn' t alone. Liam O' Connell, my partner of eight years for whom I' d put my own promising career on hold, walked in with his protégé, Chloe Davis, draped over his arm, their laughter about a private joke stopping short at the sight of my packed bags. Chloe' s sharp eyes surveyed the scene, a triumphant smirk playing on her lips before she feigned concern, asking if I was redecorating. Liam' s charming smile faltered, replaced by annoyance, and he accused me of being dramatic, as if my leaving was just a tantrum. I had built his tech empire with my architectural eye, crafted presentations that won investors, only for him to shatter our partnership and give me a front-row seat to his betrayal. The man who once promised me everything on a Brooklyn fire escape, now stood before me, offering a new car key-a desperate, material bribe-for the wound that cut straight to my soul. He fundamentally misunderstood; he thought my love was a negotiation, a problem to be managed. "You were sleeping with your protégé, Liam," I stated, my voice steady, cutting through his classic, cowardly excuse that "it just happened." He dismissed eight years of my life, of my love, as meaningless, claiming Chloe was young, confused, and looked up to him. But I saw his profound, unshakable disrespect. I had given him everything, only to be replaced by a newer, shinier model, a cruel commodity in his world. "No, it' s not complicated," I said, ringing with clarity. "You made a choice. And now, I' m making mine." As the car sped towards the airport, I pulled out my phone and turned it off, leaving him on the sidewalk with his useless car key. This wasn' t an escape; it was a homecoming. I was flying towards a future I would build for myself, free from a man who knew the price of everything and the value of nothing.

I was 17, a perfect 1600 on my practice SAT in hand, and my controlling mother, Maria, was smiling. It was the unsettling, predatory smile that always preceded the worst moments of my first life. "Hypothetically," she purred, "would you swap that score with Jennifer, just to see your twin sister happy?" I was a fool then, so desperate for her approval, so blind to the truth, that I said yes. That "yes" sealed my fate: Jennifer stole my academic success, got into an Ivy League, and became a lauded 'genius' influencer. I was left with her failing grades, denied every opportunity, condemned to dead-end jobs, and ultimately, died agonizingly young in a hospital bed. My parents watched me fade, their low voices filled with chilling satisfaction, not grief. "Stella was born to ensure Jennifer's success," my mother had said, "It's her purpose. She served it well." That day, I learned my life was a resource pack, a disposable battery for my sister. But then, darkness turned to blinding light, and I gasped, bolting upright on our floral living room sofa. The same sun streamed through the window, the dust motes danced as before. My mother looked up from her phone, that same predatory gleam in her eyes, about to ask the same question. This time, no. This time, things would be different.

The Citadel' s emergency comms system exploded with red alerts. I was at my post, ready to defend, until I saw the man I loved, Matthew, my fiancé, leading his entire elite team off-campus for a supposed "training exercise." It was a lie orchestrated by his obsession with Sabrina, the newest recruit they were celebrating in downtown. In another life, I' d chased after them, only to witness Sabrina' s capture and execution, leading Matthew' s grief-fueled rage to turn on me, ultimately putting a bullet in my head. This time, I stayed, determined to change our fate, but Matthew' s arrogance and blinding infatuation led to a new nightmare. He cut me off, refused to believe the attack was real, clinging to his misplaced trust in Sabrina while the Citadel fell, his mother Maria captured and later brutally killed. Then came the accusation, an echo of my past: Matthew, again consumed by rage and manipulated by Scythe' s lies, aimed his gun at me, blaming me for his mother's death. Why did he always fall for the trap? How could he be so blind? But then, a loyal junior agent burst in, exposing Sabrina as the hidden daughter of Scythe' s leader, the true mole who poisoned our team. As Matthew' s world shattered, his father, Director Lester, stepped in, putting a decisive end to Sabrina' s treachery. Now, I'm back, armed with knowledge of betrayal and a second chance, tasked with rebuilding the Citadel from ashes. But the phantom pain of Matthew' s first betrayal and the searing memory of his bullet still haunt me.

My mother-in-law, Brenda, a vision of fragile piety, sat pregnant on my porch swing. Everyone saw a grieving widow; I saw a master manipulator. Then he arrived-the man who looked exactly like my husband, Mike, but wasn't. He defended Brenda's fake theatrics, grabbing my arm when I refused her water. Something inside me snapped. I slapped him. Brenda' s false shock turned the town against me, labeling me "unhinged." My imposter "husband" systematically destroyed my memories, even disassembling our baby' s crib. He called the sheriff, painting me a deranged threat. At a public ceremony honoring my real husband, Brenda feigned a fall, inducing premature labor. Amidst the horror, 'Mike' then accused me of infidelity, twisting my miscarriage into a tale of instability. The town condemned me, believing every word. I was the villain, the crazy wife; their judgment was a scorching fire. They thought they saw a monster. But their entire world was a carefully constructed lie. And I held the truth. "There is shame in this family," I declared, my voice cutting through their righteous fury, "but it's not mine." My methodical vengeance was about to dismantle everything.

For five years, I chased Marcus Thorne' s ghost. My husband, a test pilot, vanished, but I refused to believe he was gone. I sold my house, exhausted my savings, working endless shifts to fund my search. My last treasure, my father' s telescope, was pawned for a gala ticket-a chance at closure. At that glittering event, I saw him. Marcus. Alive. He smirked beside my stepsister, Izzy Vance. "She actually did it, Marcus! Pathetic," Izzy scoffed, revealing their cruel prank. His eyes, tender for Izzy but ice-cold for me, confirmed his betrayal. He blamed my father for Izzy's fake scar, claiming my family "owed" them. My five years of grief? A calculated lie to punish me. They publicly shamed me, then imprisoned me, slowly destroying my spirit. How could the man I loved orchestrate such monstrous cruelty with my own stepsister? Every taunt, every manipulation, the deliberate shattering of my father' s telescope-why this relentless torment? What secret sin warranted such vengeance? But when they framed me for arson, then abandoned me in the scorching desert with rattlesnake attractant, nearing death, a new fire blazed. I would not be their casualty.

My life was a perpetual grind, a blur of diner shifts and endless cleaning jobs. Every ache, every sleepless night was for him, for Mike, and the "debt" he owed to the terrifying Desert Scorpions motorcycle gang. Fifty thousand dollars, he said, or they'd kill him. I sold my mother's locket, praying it would buy his safety, buy our future. My son, six-year-old Leo, coughed beside me, his asthma worsening, the inhaler almost empty. I kept telling him, "Mommy's getting the money, sweetie. Daddy's going to be safe, and then we can get you the best doctor." But one night, Leo's struggle for breath became a desperate fight for air. Panic seizing me, I scooped up his limp body, clutching the crumpled "debt" money, and ran into the street. "Children's clinic, fast!" I screamed to the cab driver. The city lights blurred, Leo gasped, and then, a terrible, final silence filled my arms. He was gone. My baby was gone. Numb, I stumbled towards the warehouse Mike described, Leo's cold ashes in my bag, still with the money for his "contact." But then, Mike's voice drifted out, light and cruel: "This 'Scorpion' scare was genius. Got her working like a dog." "So, no actual threat?" I heard. "Nah. Just needed to keep her on the hook. Tiffany's wanting that new kitchen, and Cody's birthday is next month." My world shattered. Leo died for a lie. The money felt like poison, his ashes like lead. A cold, hard resolve solidified in my heart. Mike Johnson would pay.

Bella only found out her husband Adam had betrayed her when she was already pregnant. Not only did he take everything from her, but he even twisted the knife of betrayal upon divorcing her right after she had given birth. Now, all she could do is grit her teeth and walk away. However, the truth shed light on both parties, and Adam soon realized the misunderstandings and misfortunes that had coated their relationship from the very start. Determined to get her back, he promised to pursue her no matter how hard she refuses him. He wanted another chance. She wanted him gone. Would they ever mend their broken trust or would both of them live forever in regret?

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.