Raihana Monib

Querencia Lynn was always the disappointment-the black sheep of her family. Scorned, unloved, and cast aside, her tragic life ends in an accident... only for her to wake up inside the very pages of a novel she was reading moments before death. Now reborn as a side character destined to become a villainess and political pawn, Querencia knows exactly how her story ends-betrayed by her fiancé, the crown prince, and discarded once she's served her purpose. But this time, she's not playing by the book. Armed with foresight, cunning, and a fortune of her own making, she's determined to break free from her chains-starting with her doomed engagement. But escaping the prince's grip means finding someone powerful enough to shield her from royal retaliation. Enter the Archduke of Wolreign: the prince's cold, formidable cousin and the only man strong enough to oppose him. Dangerous, untouchable, and infamously indifferent, the Archduke is no easy mark. Undeterred, Querencia approaches him with boldness and charm-but her first attempt ends in public humiliation. The nobles mock her. The Archduke calls her crazy. She only laughs. After all, villainesses never beg. They take. With everything on the line, Querencia offers the one thing no one saw coming: a marriage proposal. And for the first time, the unshakable Archduke is left without words. A woman scorned. A man who cannot be tamed. And a future rewritten by the very villainess meant to be destroyed.

One relationship was ruined because of a one-night mistake. "You are my wish to the Father, I pray that He grants you to me." That was my only prayer, but this is not the situation I wanted. I never intended to ruin a relationship, nor did I want to hurt another person. What happened in the past was unexpected, and now, here I am, facing the consequences of my actions. I'm married to a man who does not love me, and who never will, because he only sees me as a friend. "Wait for the love you deserve," as people often say. That's why all I can do is pray and dream that someday, the love I give him will be returned. Actually, I am his legal wife, but I let him do whatever he wants with his life. I also allow him to continue his relationship with the woman he loves, the one he's cared for from the very beginning. I'm not a martyr-I just want everything to be okay, and I don't want any conflict because I've accepted that this is the fate that's been given to me. We are not bound by love, and I've come to terms with that. I accept our situation, and I understand that we are married only on paper, even though we live under the same roof. I do my duties as a wife, like serving him. I learned to cook because of him, though I can tell he doesn't really eat what I prepare. Life is bitter, but this is who I am. I keep trying, trying to make things work between us, to make everything okay, just like when we were young, because we used to be friends. "Have you eaten?" I asked, seeing him drinking coffee in the dining area, focused on his laptop. I gave a bitter smile, already expecting no answer from him because who am I to deserve his attention? I took a deep breath; he didn't even glance at me. I don't have a contagious disease, yet he treats me as if I have leprosy. "Have you spoken to your father?" he asked emotionlessly, closing his laptop with a thud. "I-I told him," I stammered, bowing my head. "Good," he said and stood up. I watched him walk away without saying anything, then started cleaning the dining area. I noticed him stop, so I also paused, and he turned to face me. "Don't expect me to come home during the weekdays. Don't wait for me on the weekends either," he said seriously. All I could do was nod in agreement to avoid further conflict in our family. I endure this life even though it hurts because I'm the one to blame, and I'm the one who understands, so I carry the burden. "When we're at the camp, Psalm, just ignore me because they don't know we're married on paper," he said irritably and turned away. "I'm sorry," I called out, trying to apologize. My hands trembled as I held his hands with both of mine. "I-I'm sorry," I repeated. He sighed deeply and pulled his hands away from mine. "Your sorry won't change the situation, Psalm!" he replied angrily. "I-I love... you," I said bravely, though my voice was shaky. "But you don't own me," he replied coldly. I took a step forward to face him, but when our eyes met, I quickly looked away, playing with my wedding ring. "What do I have to do for you to forgive me?" I asked. "My freedom!" he answered shortly. "And please, stop wearing that ring because we're not lovers." "As you wish." "Do everything you can to earn my forgiveness!" were his last words before he left without saying goodbye. I exhaled deeply and cried. His request may be unclear, but I promise to find a way to give him the freedom he asks for. Even though I love him deeply, I'm willing to sacrifice for his happiness. "Being in love with someone who no longer loves you is the most painful feeling in the world," I whispered, wiping my tears before running to my room, where I cried my heart out. I let out all the pain through my tears. I released all my frustrations. I screamed and threw whatever I could get my hands on because, no matter how much I break down here, no one would hear me. "A-Ah... it hurts!" I cried out in frustration, burying my face in a pillow to calm myself down because there was no one else to comfort me but me. I got up and looked at the picture of us on our wedding day. I stared at Llishan's face, where you could see the forced smile on his lips. I stood and walked towards the picture, gently caressing his face. "I hope that one day I'll wake up, and the pain I carry will be gone." "I hope that one day this pretending will end. It's hard, but I hope that one day you'll have your freedom, baby, and I hope I'll be able to give you what you're asking for when I'm finally tired." This is the truth I'm standing on! I am Princess Psalm Jaxeen De-Gracia, and he is Mc Llishan Sanchez.

Averay tightly embraced Haze, unwilling to let go of him at the airport. "Please... Haze. I don't want to go, p-please let me stay here. Haze..." she pleaded, her voice trembling with tears. Her tears flowed uncontrollably. Her chest tightened as if her heart was being painfully squeezed. "Please, Ave. Just go. This is for your own good. It will only hurt me more if you stay by my side. I don't want to see you crying, Averay. Just go inside," Haze said, his voice devoid of emotion. Haze didn't want to see a woman cry because it reminded him of his mother. "H-Haze... please, don't push me away... I want to stay with you, please... I love you." He gently removed her arms from his waist, turned his back on her, and started to walk away. But Averay hugged him from behind. "H-Haze, I love you! P-Please, choose me... love me instead. N-Not Kreza. Didn't she leave you? Please, choose me, Haze, I won't leave you. I love you... Hajinn." She sobbed, but his heart remained unmoved, showing no emotion. "I love her. I waited for her for so long, and now she's back. We can finally continue the love we lost, Ave," he said firmly. "W-What about me, Haze? What about me?" she asked, her sobs growing louder, attracting the attention of the people around them. Almost everyone at the airport was watching. "Ave, before Kreza, you didn't exist in my life. From the start, there was no Averay who loved me, and I can't love you back. Just go, Averay. It will hurt you more if you see me with the woman I truly love." "D-Do you really love her? D-Did you ever love me, even once, Haze?" Averay asked, her voice filled with emotion. She didn't want to leave; she wanted to stay. But now, the man she loved so deeply was the one sending her away at the airport. It hurt, but he was pushing her away. "I... don't and never did." With those words, her arms dropped to her sides, and she let him go. She closed her eyes tightly and cried. "Haze..." she called out. "Haze..." But he didn't respond. "Haze!" she screamed, but he continued walking out of the airport, ignoring her. "Haze! Haze! Come back here, please! Haze, I love you! D-Don't forget how much I love you!" She collapsed onto the floor, sobbing uncontrollably, letting her tears fall freely down her cheeks. It felt like a knife was stabbing her heart. She had no choice but to let go and leave behind the man she loved. She had done everything-begged and cried in front of him-but nothing changed. His desire for her to leave won out. She stood up, wiped her tears, took a deep breath, and looked at the airport doors where she could no longer see him. A bitter smile crossed her face, and once again, her tears fell uncontrollably. "Haze, I love you so much..." she whispered before turning away and starting to walk. This was it; she had to do this. She had decided to let him go. She could only wish him a happy life.

Elena died on the operating table, betrayed by her husband, her unborn child already gone. But death? Just her intermission. She woke up in a whole new world-a beastmen's world, where females are rarer than diamonds and the strongest males go mad without a woman's mark to calm them down. And her? Labelled the weakest female alive. An F-rank body with a joke of a status. But hidden inside? Unlimited mental power. Just as she's figuring out this mess, a system pops up with one hell of an offer: Complete the missions. Bond with assigned males. Save this world. Do all that, and you get a one-way ticket back home. for revenge. Sounds simple? Think again. A Wolf General, colder than a blizzard, who should have ended her-ended up letting her mark him. A Fox Prince, all charming smiles and secret schemes, who started playing games only to lose his own heart. A golden Dragon, sunshine-bright and fiercely possessive, who declares her his destined treasure. A shadowy Serpent, too patient and too dangerous, watching her every move from the dark. A Phoenix King, whose love burns so hot he'd reduce empires to cinders for her. They all need her mark. They all want her. And sharing? Not in their vocabulary. Too bad for them- She's not here for love stories. She's here to survive. To climb. To turn their legendary power into her own stepping stones. And one day. To go back and make her betrayers wish they were never born.

The sensation of falling wasn't like flying; it was heavy, violent, and smelled of burning flesh. Above us, on the crumbling balcony of the Sears manor, Duke Cato Sears turned his back, shielding his cousin Bianca from the smoke as he walked away, leaving my sister Blossom and me to drop into the abyss. As the darkness slammed shut like an iron door, I realized my entire life had been a cruel script written by the people I called family. In my first life, I was the sacrificial lamb of the Dawson manor, sold to a man who eventually watched me die without blinking. My sister Blossom had pushed me into Cato's arms to avoid his rumors, only to laugh when the fire finally consumed us both. My father had measured my value like a piece of livestock, and my step-grandmother didn't even acknowledge my existence while I was being led to the slaughter. I died in that fire, feeling the heat scorch my skin and the weight of a hatred so potent it tasted like bile. I spent twenty years being the weak, manipulated shadow of a girl, only to end up as nothing more than a phantom scorch mark on a "hero's" estate. I couldn't understand why my own blood treated my life like a game they could discard. The injustice of it all burned hotter than the flames that took my last breath. Then, I sat up, sucking in air that tasted of lavender and air conditioning, not smoke. I was back in my bedroom, three days before the engagement ball that ruined my life. Blossom stood at the door, her "sweet" mask slipping as she tried to manipulate me into the Duke's path again. She thought she was the only one who had come back, but she didn't realize that this time, I was going to let her have exactly what she wanted: the Duke, the bankruptcy, and the living hell that awaited her in that house.

I stood in the Royal Hall, clutching a glass of warm champagne while watching Senator Levine laugh. To the crowd, he was a pillar of the community; to me, he was the parasite who had already destroyed my life once. In my past life, this gala was the night the monarchy began to bleed. Levine successfully planted his cameras, the Vance empire funded a coup, and the kingdom I loved was sold off to the highest bidder. I lived through the consequences of my silence. I watched my sister, Seraphina, die in childbirth because the medical supplies were intercepted by traitors. I watched the man I loved, Duke Elliot, stripped of his titles and branded a criminal. I spent my final days in a damp, freezing cell, listening to the executioner sharpen his blade while the people cheered for our demise. The injustice burned in my throat like lye. I died wondering how I could have been so naive, how I could have let these monsters walk among us while I played the part of a perfect, quiet wife. Why did the gods let the wicked prosper while my family’s blood watered the palace gardens? What would I have given for just one chance to strike first? Then, the world shifted. I opened my eyes to find myself back at the gala, the scent of sandalwood and rain surrounding me as Elliot rested a possessive hand on my back. I wasn't just a Duchess anymore; I was a ghost from a future that would never happen, and I was ready to erase every name on my list.

Chloe Miller and Blake Harrison were husband and wife, a title that masked three years of mutual hatred and separate beds. Then, a gang abducted and brutally murdered Chloe. But instead of peace, she woke to the Grim Reaper' s voice: "Ms. Miller, you have desires you have not resolved. You cannot be reborn yet." She was granted ten days to return to life and fix her problems, or risk eternal damnation. Chloe returned to find Blake celebrating her "death" with her adoptive sister, Amelia Miller, the woman Blake truly loved. Blake, believing her to be a manipulative ghost, grabbed her throat. "You have the nerve to come back!" he snarled. He thought she faked her kidnapping, mocking her with twisted accusations alongside Amelia and her parents. Chloe, overwhelmed, saw the prayer beads she' d gotten for Blake during his accident, a symbol of her wasted devotion. Her past devotion felt like a torment now, a chain she needed to break. She pulled the beads from his wrist, scattering them, severing their hold. "I' m tired, Blake," she said, her voice clear and firm. "Let' s get a divorce." His eyes widened in shock. He refused. He' d always refused. But this time, Chloe wasn' t fighting for him. She was fighting for herself. She was finally ready to rewrite her own story, leaving behind the shattered pieces of her past.

A sharp pain shot through my head, pulling me from a deep darkness. I opened my eyes to my luxury penthouse, but I shouldn't have been there. I remembered dying. The memory was cold and sharp: my protégé, Dustin, sold me out, and my husband, Graves, watched our company crumble, leading to my fatal heart attack. Then, Graves appeared, his charming, empty smile unchanged. But he wasn't alone. A young woman, Alex Salazar, stood behind him, clutching her cheap handbag. Graves introduced her as an intern, saying she had nowhere to stay and would be living with us. My eyes fell to her neck, where a dark hickey was partially hidden. The date on the nightstand confirmed it: I had traveled back in time to the exact day Graves brought Alex home in my previous life, the beginning of my long, painful nightmare. Last time, I had screamed and thrown things, starting my humiliation. A strange calm washed over me. I had been given a second chance, not to win him back, but to escape. "Of course," I said, my voice even, "The poor thing. We should take care of her." Graves looked surprised, then relieved. He thought he had won. "In fact," I continued, pulling out divorce papers, "I'll make sure she's comfortable. You just have one small thing to do for me." I wanted the Malibu property. "Give me that, and I'll walk away quietly. You can have your new life. You can take care of this... orphan."

The numb cold started in my fingertips, creeping inward. I watched Chloe, my wife, her face a mask of impatient fury in the dim tent light. Outside, a blizzard howled, the soundtrack to my dying. My miraculous blood, the blood that could heal, drained from my arm, a crimson offering for a dead man. "More," Chloe demanded, her voice sharp. "It' s not enough. You have to bring him back." Her childhood sweetheart, Jake Miller, lay frozen nearby, a corpse. "Chloe, it doesn' t work like this," I rasped, my vision blurring. "I can heal injuries. I can' t raise the dead." "Liar!" she shrieked, her grief a twisted venom. "You can heal anything! You won' t save him because you' re jealous! It' s your fault he went up that mountain! If you hadn' t forced me to marry you, he' d still be alive!" The accusation was a sick joke. I had healed her to repay a debt, a lie used to trap me. I wasn' t a god, just a medical prodigy. As my lifeblood pooled, the world faded to black, her hateful face my last sight. Then, bright, sterile light. I gasped, eyes flying open in a pristine hospital room. My hands were whole, warm. Mrs. Davis, Chloe' s mother, stood by the window, worried but hopeful. This was the day it all began, the day they begged me to heal their daughter. I remembered my profound sense of duty, repaying a girl I believed saved me. That single selfless act led to a year of loveless marriage, resentment, and my own murder. "Dr. Hayes," Mrs. Davis said, trembling. "We' ve heard about your… gift. They say you can perform miracles." She stepped forward, hands clasped. "My daughter, Chloe… she' ll never walk again. But we believe… you can save her. Please, we' ll give you anything." But my gaze was cold. I saw the contempt, the venom of my past in her desperate eyes. I had been a fool. A naive, sacrificial lamb. Not again.

The screams of the "Proving" ceremony were the first thing I heard when I woke up. My eyes shot open, and the scent of pine, sweat, and something metallic filled my lungs. I was back in this godforsaken survivalist compound, mysteriously transported from my office job. A hand grabbed my arm, and it was Gabrielle Chadwick, or Gabby, her terrified eyes pleading. "Molly, help me! Please! They're going to hurt me!" This was the ritual where young men would strike unmarried women with leather belts, and the one enduring the most blows was deemed "most desired." In my past life, I shielded Gabby, taking every blow for her, believing I was protecting a friend. My sacrifice made me the "most honored," granting me first choice of a partner, and I chose Caleb Scott, the compound leader' s son. But my life with Caleb was a private hell of control and brutality, while Gabby, seething with resentment for what she thought was her rightful place, pretended to be my friend. She eventually got her revenge, pushing me off a cliff during a foraging trip. Now, reborn at the start of that same horrifying ceremony, Gabby was playing the same part, her hand clamping my arm, her voice a desperate plea for me to be her shield again. I looked at her, at the calculated fear in her eyes, remembering the sharp, final impact of falling. Not this time.

Tatina Maria has been sold to an exclusive auction house to cover her parents debts to the vampire authority. Her father gambled away everything and now he is forced to sell his only daughter to be auctioned off to the highest bidder. The vampire authority comes to collect her on her 21st birthday. She is a hybrid half vampire half fairy She will fetch someone a big payday and big a nice prize for the highest bidder. What will happen to Tatina Maria when a rich vampire buys her to be all his?

The last thing I remembered was freezing to death in my garage, alone. My fiancée, Jenny, had taken all our savings, not for us, but for her lover Mark Todd's son, Leo. She didn't even seem sad when she found me, just annoyed my death inconveniently interrupted Leo's birthday plans. I gasped, my eyes flying open to a warm morning sun in my own bed. The date on my phone was a full year before my demise. A second chance. My old auto shop teacher called, offering a full scholarship to an automotive engineering program in California. In my first life, I turned him down, sacrificing my dreams to stay with Jenny in our small Ohio town. But this time, a cold, hard resolve filled me. "I'll take it," I said, my voice firm and clear, my heart an ice block. Just then, Jenny walked in, laughing with Mark and Leo, acting like they owned my house. Leo, the spoiled kid, demanded I make him mac and cheese, and Jenny instantly defended him, whispering, "He's just a kid! Don't be so petty." I watched her doting on them, making them dinner with practiced ease, completely ignoring me and my own cold meal. Why did I let her walk all over me, drain my bank account, and destroy my future? This time, I felt nothing but a powerful decision. I was already gone. They just didn't know it yet.

The stale smell of burnt coffee and dread filled the air. I knew this night. The final, all-night document review for a billion-dollar merger. Last time, my husband, Mark, the senior partner, abandoned his post for his intern mistress, Chloe, after she ruined critical documents. Their negligence cost us the deal and ruined Mr. Thompson, our biggest client. They pinned it all on me. I was disbarred, sued into oblivion, and died poor and alone, while Mark and Chloe thrived, protected by her powerful family. Now, I was back. Reborn on the worst night of my life, with only four hours to save everything. But the past was insistent. Chloe, with her shrill apologies, again spilled coffee-this time directly onto the irreplaceable signature page. Mark, predictably, jumped to defend her, leaving the crucial filing to comfort his "distressed" mistress. "Chloe needs me!" he hissed, as his phone blared with her manipulative threats: "If you don't come to me this second, I'm going to the clinic! I'll get rid of it!" He shoved me aside, spitting, "The firm has malpractice insurance for a reason." And just like last time, he was gone, leaving chaos in his wake. How could a man jeopardize a billion-dollar deal, his reputation, and his client' s legacy for a flighty intern? How could such selfish, incompetent people rise to power while I was destroyed? This time, I wouldn't just watch. I wouldn't break. With pain in my heart and hip, I walked to the head of the abandoned table. The game had changed. This time, I' d take the lead. And this time, I wouldn' t just survive-I' d make sure they burned for it.