The very night she rehearsed and planned to say 'I love you' turned out to be the night she tragically lost everything. Starting from her mate, to her best friend, then the last, her pack.
The very night she rehearsed and planned to say 'I love you' turned out to be the night she tragically lost everything. Starting from her mate, to her best friend, then the last, her pack.
Elara's Pov
My heart pounded within my chest, a wild rhythm amid the lively city scene. Today was Kai's birthday, and I had arranged the best surprise.
A weekend escape to the Whispering Pines resort, located in the heart of Redwood National Park.
Kai loves nature, the aroma of pine needles and wet soil, the serene isolation of the woods.
I imagined us walking together, exchanging soft secrets beneath the star-filled night sky.
It was a significant difference from our small apartment in the city, where the only glimpse of nature we had was the drooping basil plant on the windowsill.
I grasped the tiny velvet case in my pocket, a nervous fluttering teasing my stomach. Inside was a silver wolf pendant, finely detailed with Celtic knots. It represented our bond, a vow of eternity.
Kai was consistently intrigued by werewolf myths...the instinctive bond with nature, power, and fidelity within a group.
He would even make jokes about being one himself...a playful sparkle in his eyes.
Naturally, I simply dismissed it with laughter. I had no idea...
I checked the time on my watch. Almost there. I informed Kai that I was working a late shift at the bakery...a needed falsehood to arrange this surprise. He would never imagine anything.
He was familiar with my extended hours and my commitment to my job.
He frequently grumbled...or at least teased...about my "flour-covered" kisses, yet I was aware that he privately appreciated my enthusiasm.
I halted in front of our apartment structure: an unremarkable, brick edifice located in an unremarkable area of the city.
The elevator was not functioning...as it often wasn't...and I huffed my way up the four flights of stairs while the scent of cinnamon and sugar clung to my clothing from the nearby bakery.
Arriving at door-4B, I retrieved the spare key hidden beneath the welcome mat and entered the house.
I crept in quietly, grasping my breath. The flat was unsettlingly silent. "Kai?" I whispered gently, partly anticipating him to leap from behind the sofa with a "Surprise!"
No reply.
I scowled. He ought to have arrived home by now. He finished his shift at the bookstore hours ago. Perhaps he had taken a break for a drink with his companions? I attempted to calm the increasing discomfort in my chest. I was acting foolishly. He was likely just delayed.
I chose to utilize the time to prepare. I prepared a small cooler filled with champagne and a selection of his favorite snacks.
I quietly entered the living room and started to organize everything on the coffee table. I lit several aromatic candles, filling the space with a cozy, welcoming light.
I even played his favorite jazz album; the soothing saxophone sounds floated through the apartment.
While I was organizing the champagne flutes, a small red envelope on the coffee table caught my attention. My heart skipped a beat. It was not written in my handwriting.
I extended my hand and grabbed it, my fingers trembling a little. It was directed to Kai, written in an elegant, almost fragile, handwriting from a woman.
A sensation of fear tightened in my stomach. I was aware I shouldn't, but realized I couldn't resist. I carefully opened the envelope.
Inside was just a single half-folded piece of paper. I opened it, my gaze scanning the text, and my breath caught in my throat.
Wishing you a joyful birthday love. I am excited to celebrate with you this evening. Meet me at The Crimson Moon at 8. Put on that shirt I love. And remember... I'm staying a bit just to perceive your scent again.
The name started with A."
My world shifted on its axis. It felt like the room started to whirl, the gentle jazz transformed into a distorted, mocking melody.
My hands started to tremble uncontrollably, my champagne glass fell from my hold, and shattered on the ground.
The fragments of glass were strewn over the carpet, mirroring the shards that represented my heart.
A... Who's that?
Suddenly, it dawned on me. A... Anya. My closest friend. The one who had been helping me with Kai's surprise...
A feeling of discomfort overwhelmed me. I stepped back, grabbing my chest as though the air had been knocked from my lungs.
This cannot be real.
Simply wasn't possible. Anya would never do that. She was my closest friend; we had remained inseparable since we were kids. We talked about everything, from secrets to dreams and laughter. Apparently, boyfriends as well.
My eyes stung, the tears eager to escape.
I gripped the wolf pendant in my pocket. The silver was cool to my touch, the extreme opposite of the burning when I bought it. A lie. It all was a lie.
I had to know. I had to know what had really happened.
I took my purse in my shaking hands. I couldn't stay here, in this apartment, surrounded by the remnants of my carefully constructed surprise, the echoes of their betrayal ringing in my ears.
I ran out of the apartment, slamming the door behind me. I didn't even bother locking it. What was the point? My life, as I knew it, was already shattered.
I hailed a taxi and gave its driver the address of The Crimson Moon, one of the 'in' places downtown. I knew Kai hung out there. He had once taken me there several months ago. I still remembered the low-lit inside, plush-velvet-covered seats, air thick with the smell of expensive perfume and unspoken desires.
As the cab whizzed along the city roads, I suddenly felt detached from the world around me-some supernatural controls turning my life into a movie. I was numb. In shock. I couldn't believe this was happening to me.
The cab pulled up in front of The Crimson Moon.
I paid the driver and stepped out onto the sidewalk, the cool night air a welcome contrast to the stifling heat of the cab.
For a moment, I hesitated, my hand hovering in the air over the door handle. Part of me wanted to turn back, to convince myself I hadn't seen the letter, to hold on to that illusion of happiness, however fragile it was. But I knew I couldn't. I wanted the truth, however painful.
Taking a deep breath, I heaved the door open.
The bar was crowded, the music loud and pulsating. I scanned the room, my eyes searching for Kai. And then I saw them.
They sat in the little, low-lit corner booth against the back, framed in the pale yellow light filtering from a neighboring lamp.
Even Kai was donning the same shirt Anya had written in the letter of. He seemed to be chuckling, having his arm around Anya's shoulders.
And Anya inclined her head sideways into him as her hand went across his chest. They actually looked... comfortable. HAPPY.
My heart plummeted into my stomach. It was a physical blow, a punch in the gut, and the wind was knocked from my lungs.
I stood there, frozen, unable to move, my eyes fixed on them. I watched as Kai leaned in and kissed Anya, a slow, lingering kiss that made my blood run cold.
Everything around me faded into the distance: the music, the chatter, the laughter... all so muffled. The only thing I could hear was my heart pounding in my ears, the echo of their betrayal ringing in my mind.
I didn't cry. I didn't scream. I didn't even feel anger. I just felt... empty. Hollow. Like a part of me had died.
I turned and walked away-my footsteps echoing on the polished floor. I didn't look back. I couldn't.
The smell of betrayal was heavy in the air, a bitter, acrid smell that clung to me like a shroud. It was a smell I knew I would never forget.
For ten years, Daniela showered her ex-husband with unwavering devotion, only to discover she was just his biggest joke. Feeling humiliated yet determined, she finally divorced him. Three months later, Daniela returned in grand style. She was now the hidden CEO of a leading brand, a sought-after designer, and a wealthy mining mogul-her success unveiled at her triumphant comeback. Her ex-husband's entire family rushed over, desperate to beg for forgiveness and plead for another chance. Yet Daniela, now cherished by the famed Mr. Phillips, regarded them with icy disdain. "I'm out of your league."
I stood at my mother’s open grave in the freezing rain, my heels sinking into the mud. The space beside me was empty. My husband, Hilliard Holloway, had promised to cherish me in bad times, but apparently, burying my mother didn't fit into his busy schedule. While the priest’s voice droned on, a news alert lit up my phone. It was a livestream of the Metropolitan Charity Gala. There was Hilliard, looking impeccable in a custom tuxedo, with his ex-girlfriend Charla English draped over his arm. The headline read: "Holloway & English: A Power Couple Reunited?" When he finally returned to our penthouse at 2 AM, he didn't come alone—he brought Charla with him. He claimed she’d had a "medical emergency" at the gala and couldn't be left alone. I found a Tiffany diamond necklace on our coffee table meant for her birthday, and a smudge of her signature red lipstick on his collar. When I confronted him, he simply told me to stop being "hysterical" and "acting like a child." He had no idea I was seven months pregnant with his child. He thought so little of my grief that he didn't even bother to craft a convincing lie, laughing with his mistress in our home while I sat in the dark with a shattered heart and a secret life growing inside me. "He doesn't deserve us," I whispered to the darkness. I didn't scream or beg. I simply left a folder on his desk containing signed divorce papers and a forged medical report for a terminated pregnancy. I disappeared into the night, letting him believe he had successfully killed his own legacy through his neglect. Five years later, Hilliard walked into "The Vault," the city's most exclusive underground auction, looking for a broker to manage his estate. He didn't recognize me behind my Venetian mask, but he couldn't ignore the neon pink graffiti on his armored Maybach that read "DEADBEAT." He had no clue that the three brilliant triplets currently hacking his security system were the very children he thought had been erased years ago. This time, I wasn't just a wife in the way; I was the one holding all the cards.
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.
The whispers said that out of bitter jealousy, Hadley shoved Eric's beloved down the stairs, robbing the unborn child of life. To avenge, Eric forced Hadley abroad and completely cut her off. Years later, she reemerged, and they felt like strangers. When they met again, she was the nightclub's star, with men ready to pay fortunes just to glimpse her elusive performance. Unable to contain himself, Eric blocked her path, asking, "Is this truly how you earn a living now? Why not come back to me?" Hadley's lips curved faintly. "If you’re eager to see me, you’d better join the queue, darling."
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 three years, Adrian's heart belonged to another, and his wife Jessica-mute and unloved-endured his coldness. Realizing she deserved better, she quietly left him, divorce papers on the table. Adrian tore them up, accusing her of childish games, but Jessica had no interest in wasting more of her life. After their split, her voice returned and she was suddenly surrounded by admirers. Adrian, blinded by jealousy, begged her to come back. Jessica only laughed, repeating his own words, saying, "Didn't you say love is the most worthless thing in the world?" Now, she'd never look back.
© 2018-now CHANGDU (HK) TECHNOLOGY LIMITED
6/F MANULIFE PLACE 348 KWUN TONG ROAD KL
TOP
GOOGLE PLAY