Mo Xiaoxiao

I died on a modern battlefield, only to wake up in the body of a "wolfless" noble girl named Kimberley Oliver. Before I could even process my transmigration, a heavy weight crushed my ribs. My greedy aunt had drugged my tea and paid a filthy street thug to ruin my innocence in the dead of night. She wanted to stage a scandalous scene so my betrothed, the Crown Prince, could legally tear up our royal marriage pact. I used my operative instincts to shatter my attackers' bones and turn the trap against them. But when the Prince arrived, he didn't care about the truth. Looking at my frail, powerless body, he refused to believe a cripple could defend herself. "I will personally petition the King tomorrow morning to dissolve our royal betrothal. Clear out this filth." He looked at me with pure disgust and mercilessly annulled our engagement on the spot. In this werewolf kingdom, being born without an inner beast made you lower than dirt. My predecessor had lived her entire life terrified, bullied, and was ultimately murdered in the dark by her own family while everyone watched. But I am not that fragile, weeping orphan anymore. I escaped the estate, broke into a quarantined tavern, and robbed the kingdom's most terrifying, paralyzed Lycan warlord blind—taking his gold, his royal cloak, and a ratty handkerchief that made him scream in agony. Every single debt they owe her, I am collecting in blood.

He abandoned me at the altar. I chose his uncle instead. Kole Stone was ten minutes late to our bonding ceremony. Then his secretary, Brenna Rose, walked down the aisle and announced that he had chosen her. In front of hundreds of werewolves, I became the bride who had been publicly humiliated - and the alliance my pack had spent years building collapsed in an instant. I could have cried. I could have walked away. Instead, I looked at the Alpha King sitting among the Black Moon Pack. Gannon Stone. Kole's uncle. The most powerful Alpha in the room. Something inside me stirred the moment our eyes met, a strange pull I couldn't explain. And when I offered him a way to turn the ruined ceremony into a new alliance, he accepted without hesitation. I thought I was choosing him to save my pack and reclaim my dignity. Then his fingers closed around mine, and his golden eyes darkened. "I am no one's replacement. From this moment on, you belong to me." I thought I was taking control of my life. I had no idea I was stepping straight into the hands of the Alpha King.

Kara Sexton was the illegitimate daughter of the Sexton family, forced into a PR marriage with the disabled Benton heir as a disposable placeholder. But on the night before she was supposed to sign the divorce papers, her stepmother drugged her. She woke up in a stranger's hotel bed, stripped of her dignity and her late mother's precious silver locket. Terrified, she fled back to her toxic family, only to face their relentless cruelty. Her stepsister, Emilia—who had secretly refused the marriage because of the groom's injured leg—conspired to publicly humiliate Kara at their grandmother's birthday banquet. They framed her with a counterfeit designer gown and accused her of selling her body to a sugar daddy to afford her stunning appearance. "Where did you get that kind of money? Dare you deny that some old man gave you these things to show off with tonight?" Her own father and grandmother watched with cold disdain, ready to cast her out like garbage. Kara looked at these blood relatives who had stolen her dowry, pushed her into a loveless marriage, and were now trying to destroy her reputation. They thought she was just a weak, uneducated girl from the countryside who would silently swallow their abuse. They were wrong. Kara calmly summoned the original designer to expose her sister's fake dress, tossed a thirty-million-dollar priceless emerald on the table, and publicly ripped away the family's hypocritical mask. She didn't need their charity, and she was done playing the victim. And as she walked away from the ruined Sexton family, Domenick Benton—the billionaire stranger from that night—finally locked onto his target.

She kissed a stranger to spite her cheating fiancé. Now the stranger has requested her by name. Iris Sullivan is nothing but a bargaining chip to her adoptive parents, who are determined to marry her off to a wealthy heir. At a masquerade ball, she catches her fiancé with another woman and, in a moment of cold rebellion, drags a masked stranger into a reckless kiss. He kisses her back with brutal intensity, sees straight through her bravado, and leaves her humiliated and breathless. The next day, she learns the stranger's possible identity: Camden Kirk, a paralyzed billionaire recluse rumored to destroy anyone who crosses him. The problem? The man on the balcony stood tall and walked. The man in the wheelchair cannot. Iris can't prove the connection, but the scent of winter cedar that clings to Camden is unmistakable-and now he's personally requested her for an interview. Camden Kirk doesn't grant interviews. He's chosen her for something else entirely.

My world revolved around Jax Harding, my older brother's captivating rockstar friend. From sixteen, I adored him; at eighteen, I clung to his casual promise: "When you're 22, maybe I'll settle down." That offhand comment became my life's beacon, guiding every choice, meticulously planning my twenty-second birthday as our destiny. But on that pivotal day in a Lower East Side bar, clutching my gift, my dream exploded. I overheard Jax' s cold voice: "Can't believe Savvy's showing up. She' s still hung up on that stupid thing I said." Then the crushing plot: "We' re gonna tell Savvy I' m engaged to Chloe, maybe even hint she' s pregnant. That should scare her off." My gift, my future, slipped from my numb fingers. I fled into the cold New York rain, devastated by betrayal. Later, Jax introduced Chloe as his "fiancée" while his bandmates mocked my "adorable crush"-he did nothing. As an art installation fell, he saved Chloe, abandoning me to severe injury. In the hospital, he came for "damage control," then shockingly shoved me into a fountain, leaving me to bleed, calling me a "jealous psycho." How could the man I loved, who once saved me, become this cruel and publicly humiliate me? Why was my devotion seen as an annoyance to be brutally extinguished with lies and assault? Was I just a problem, my loyalty met with hatred? I would not be his victim. Injured and betrayed, I made an unshakeable vow: I was done. I blocked his number and everyone connected to him, severing ties. This was not an escape; this was my rebirth. Florence awaited, a new life on my terms, unburdened by broken promises.

For four years, I played the perfect, naive, low-income wife to my wealthy husband Duke, completely hiding my true identity as a top-secret DARPA scientist. On our anniversary, I discovered he was having an affair with an old-money socialite named Adelia. He used our marital assets to buy her a half-million-dollar Birkin bag, but that wasn't the worst part. While hiding in a parking garage, I recorded him telling his mistress that the daily prenatal vitamins he lovingly gave me were actually high-dose contraceptives. He had secretly sterilized me to ensure I would never produce a "low-class" heir, planning to toss me aside with a tiny settlement in six months. When I confronted him, he violently attacked me, smashed my head against a marble dresser, and locked me in our bedroom. I thought of the four years I spent crying in doctors' offices, blaming my own body for my infertility, while he held my hand and comforted me with perfect, monstrous concern. I didn't wait to be punished. I climbed down the second-story balcony in the dark, leaving behind every diamond and luxury bag he had ever given me. Sitting in the back of a taxi, I wiped the blood from my forehead and opened a secure app on my phone. "Divorce fraud. Initiate sequence." It was time for him to finally meet Dr. Patterson.

The fire that melted my skin should have been the end of my story. I had been the perfect mafia wife. I obeyed my father, I married Dante Genovese, and I even birthed his daughter. But in return, he locked us in a safehouse and lit a match. He watched from behind a steel door as I burned to ash, all because his mistress, Sofia, was jealous and wanted me out of the picture. My own brother had spiked my champagne to ensure I was too weak to fight back. I died screaming, my lungs filling with smoke and the scent of my husband's betrayal. But when I gasped awake, I wasn't in hell. I was in the bridal suite at the Ritz-Carlton. My hands were smooth. My skin was unblemished. The date on the digital clock burned red in the darkness. It was three years ago. It was the night of our engagement. The night it all began. Dante was in the bathroom right now, humming contentedly as he washed off the scent of his mistress before coming to claim his "lawful prize." In my past life, I waited for him. I let him take me, thinking my submission would earn his love. Not this time. I didn't run to the lobby for help. My family had sold me out. Instead, I took the elevator to the Penthouse floor. To the territory of the Outfit. To the door of Matteo Moretti—The Butcher. The only man ruthless enough to make Dante tremble. When the door opened, revealing a man with eyes like ice and a gun in his hand, I didn't flinch. I fell to my knees and looked up at the monster who could save me. "I am Elena Vitiello," I whispered, the drug in my veins setting my blood on fire. "And I have a proposition."

I was the "crazy girl" my family sent to a survivalist commune in Utah to rot. Four years later, I returned to Manhattan with a titanium USB drive and a heart full of ice, ready to blackmail the one man who could burn my family to the ground. But I underestimated how much they hated me. My fiancé, Preston, was already laundering money through my inheritance and sleeping with my replacement. He didn't even flinch when I showed him the evidence of his crimes. Instead, he grabbed me by the shoulders, smashed my phone, and shoved me out of his moving Lincoln into a midnight storm. I hit the wet pavement hard, my knees scraping against the asphalt as I watched him drive away, laughing about how I was a "dirt-poor exile" that nobody wanted. Within minutes, my credit cards were flagged as stolen and my father’s lawyers were drafting a statement calling me mentally unstable. I was left shivering in a puddle of oily sludge, wearing a ruined Chanel suit, with no money, no home, and no one to hear me scream. I couldn't understand how they could be so cruel. I was their flesh and blood, yet they treated me like a broken toy to be discarded in the trash. I was a "distressed asset" in a city that only valued gold. That’s when a black armored SUV pulled to the curb. King Wagner—the ruthless shark of Wall Street and Preston’s own uncle—looked at my muddy face with cold, calculating eyes. He didn't offer me pity; he offered me a leash. "You belong to me now," he whispered, pulling me into the dry warmth of his car. By the next morning, he had announced our engagement to the world, turning me into the very weapon that would slit my family's throat.

For three years, I played second fiddle to my boyfriend' s "childhood friend," Eve. When Damion finally whisked me away to Paris to rekindle our dying spark, I thought things might change. Instead, the moment we arrived, he abandoned me in the hotel lobby without my passport because Eve called with a "crisis." I spent my first night in Paris stranded and penniless while he rushed to comfort her. When he finally returned the next morning, he didn't apologize. He flew into a rage because I' d sought safety in an old college friend' s room, accusing me of cheating while he still smelled like her cheap perfume. He actually punched the only man who helped me, screaming that I was the toxic one. The gaslighting was the final straw. I didn't feel anger anymore, just a cold, liberating indifference. While he begged on his knees, quitting his job and promising to cut Eve off forever, I simply walked away. I boarded a plane to London for a promotion I' d once turned down for him, leaving him with nothing but his regrets and the "friend" he chose over me.

My husband made me ride in the freezing cargo hold because his mistress wanted peace and quiet. I died back there, clutching the "vitamins" she gave me, while they laughed in the front seat. It wasn't until my frozen body was found that Atlas realized he had just killed his own wife and unborn child. Ten years ago, I saved Atlas from a car crash that left me with the mind of a child. He hated me for it. He treated me like a burden and let his mistress, Kacie, feed me high-dose abortion pills disguised as health supplements. When the police uncovered the truth, Atlas' s world shattered. He discovered Kacie had never been pregnant-but I was. Consumed by a belated, violent rage, he executed Kacie with his own hands and demanded the death penalty for himself. He thought death would be his redemption. He thought he could find me on the other side and make amends. But when his spirit finally reached out to mine, begging for forgiveness, I didn't feel the love I had yearned for in life. I felt nothing. "Go away, Atlas," I whispered, watching his soul crumble. "I'm finally free."

My boss shoved me into a room to handle a VIP patient who was threatening suicide. She was Evelin Bennett, a famous fashion influencer, hysterical over her fiancé. But when she tearfully showed me a photo of the man she loved, my world shattered. It was my husband of two years, Ben, a kind construction worker I'd found after an accident left him with amnesia. Except in this photo, he was Bernard Logan, a ruthless tycoon standing in front of a skyscraper bearing his name. Just then, the real Bernard Logan walked in, dressed in a suit that cost more than my car. He strode past me as if I didn't exist and wrapped his arms around Evelin. "Baby, I'm here," he murmured, his voice the same deep, soothing tone he used on me after a bad day. "I'll never leave you again. I promise." He had made that exact promise to me a hundred times over. He kissed her forehead, declaring he loved only her-a performance for an audience of one: me. He was showing me that our entire marriage, our life together during his amnesia, was a secret to be buried. As he carried her from the room, his cold eyes met mine one last time. The message was clear: You are a problem to be erased.

For six years, I devoted my life to my wife, tech CEO Isabella Stone. After I saved her from a fire, I became the sole caregiver for her comatose mother, putting my own life on hold so she could build her empire. Then she went on national television and told the world our marriage was just a debt of gratitude. She never loved me. That same night, her mother died. I tried to call her, but her ex-fiancé—the man who abandoned her in that fire—answered the phone. She was with him, pregnant with his child, while her mother died alone in a hospital. At the funeral, she collapsed and lost the baby. Her lover screamed that it was my fault, and she stood by his side, letting him blame me. I divorced her. I thought it was over. But as we left the lawyer's office, her lover tried to run me over. Isabella pushed me out of the way, taking the hit herself. With her last breath, she confessed the truth. "The baby... he was yours, Izzy. He was always yours."

The hospital corridor smelled of disinfectant, quiet except for my wife Sarah's voice through the door. She' d claimed amnesia after a car accident, unable to remember me, her husband of five years. But what I heard next wasn't confusion. "It' s just for seven days. Then I'll say my memory came back. He can't blame a 'sick' person, right?" Mark Davis, a junior developer at our company, responded, "Aren't you worried he'll just cut you off? Financially, I mean." Sarah laughed, a chilling sound. "David? He loves me too much. He'll feel guilty and give me anything I want. This is the only way to get him to step down so you can take over the Alpha Corp project. Once you're in charge, everything will be ours." My world shattered. The woman was a stranger. The next day, Sarah, with a fake bandage, announced Mark as acting CTO, thrusting a temporary leave form at me. Everyone watched, expecting an explosion. They knew I co-founded the company, built its technical foundation from scratch. I signed the papers without a word. "Okay," I said, my voice even, leaving Sarah bewildered. Did they truly believe I was blind to their scheme? She had no idea. The Alpha Corp project, her intended prize for Mark, had a one-hundred-million-dollar penalty for failure. A seven-day time bomb she had just armed herself. This wasn't merely her plan anymore; it was mine too.

My brother, Ethan, was my whole world, the only light in a home cloaked in shadows, a world where my stepsister, Chloe, reigned supreme, pulling the strings of my father and the man I loved, Dr. Liam Miller. The call came on a Tuesday, pulling me from my mother' s art gallery, and dragging me into a family meeting that would shatter what little peace I had left. Chloe, with a chilling smile, revealed her plan: to marry me off to Noah Blackwood, a reclusive billionaire rumored to be monstrously disfigured, all to settle her own failed engagement and save my father' s crumbling finances. My world crumbled further when I realized Liam, my childhood friend, the man I had painted a thousand times in my dreams, sided with them, his eyes cold and judgmental, dismissing my pleas as "selfish." Then, with a terrifying suddenness, Ethan collapsed, his small body going limp in my arms; a horrifying consequence of an overdose of his heart medication that Chloe had orchestrated, and Liam, ever so blind, had enabled. My rage wasn't just cold anymore; it was a consuming fire, burning away years of fear and submission, leaving me with one clear thought: if I was to be a pawn, I would play this game to win, not just for Ethan' s life, but for my own freedom. I would marry Noah Blackwood, but not as their sacrifice; I would use his power to burn their world to the ground and finally claim justice.

The last thing I remembered was the bitter taste of the tea my daughter, Stella, had made for me. I died slowly, my body betraying me while my mind screamed, alone in a secluded D.C. apartment. Stella, the brilliant Yale graduate, the political commentator I had molded into a star, watched. Just a day before, her viral video had already shredded my reputation, painting me as a monster. The poison she gave me simply finished the job. Dying by the hand of your own child, the one you sacrificed everything for, is a special kind of hell. There was no confusion, only a chilling clarity as my life drained away, her cold, detached eyes the last thing I saw. How could the daughter I pushed to greatness pay me back with death and public humiliation? Was this truly the end of everything? Then, with a gasp, I woke up. The familiar smell of old wood and fried onions filled my lungs. My hands, strong and calloused, not the useless claws of my deathbed. And there she was: a seventeen-year-old Stella, rebellious and sharp, clutching that art school acceptance letter. I knew this moment. This was where the fatal battle of my first life began, the path leading directly to my murder. This time, everything would be different.

My marriage to Seraphina had rules: five years of waiting for full moons and "energetic alignment." During a raging wildfire, I found my wife, Seraphina, intimately huddled with another man, Julian, and a young boy, Leo, looking like a blissful family. She didn't care I'd discovered her betrayal; she just told me I was 'upsetting the harmony' and kicked me out of my own home. She even refused my divorce, claiming it would 'disrupt her karmic path' and then abandoned me bleeding in a cafe after I was injured saving her, to coddle a child who wasn't even hers. Was my love and sacrifice truly so worthless, so easily discarded for a life built on her curated lies and calculated manipulations? But then I saw the pictures and videos of her secret life, the raw, unhinged laughter broke free-the man who loved Seraphina was dead, and a new, free me was finally born.

Ten years with Ethan, my high school sweetheart, culminated in the diamond ring I' d always dreamed of. My engagement party buzzed with excitement, a celebration of our perfect love story. But the dream shattered when Ethan violently shoved me at the party, his voice ice-cold. Then, a scene I' ll never erase: Ethan, on our marital bed, with Chloe-my old friend, now my bitter enemy. And the chilling truth: his proposal wasn't for me at all. The ring I wore bore Chloe' s initials. Our apartment, my future, everything, was meticulously designed for her, a cruel charade. He ripped down our photos, denied my pain, and then, he slapped me, demanding I apologize to the very person destroying my world. My own parents, my mentors, had even distanced themselves, thanks to Chloe's past manipulations-all known to Ethan. I was a pawn, a placeholder in their twisted game of revenge and manipulation. How could the man who promised to love and protect me conspire with the woman who stole my art scholarship, the woman he knew was my deepest wound, to orchestrate such a public humiliation? But no more. On the very day he planned to discard me at the altar, I decided to reclaim my story. I canceled the wedding, booked a flight overseas, and exposed their entire deceitful plot to his horrified family. This wasn't an ending; it was my defiant beginning.

The sterile scent of rubbing alcohol was too familiar. For five years, I'd been pregnant with Ethan Vanderbilt’s child, only to lose them, each time beneath the gaze of his wife. This time, Olivia, his wife, stood over me, a cruel smile pasted on her face, a gleaming needle in her hand. Ethan watched from the doorway, just like always. After the screams and excruciating pain, I lost not only my baby but also my ability to ever have children again following a forced hysterectomy. The news broke my father, who leaped to his death because he couldn't bear my torment. At his funeral, Olivia forced me to my knees, then kicked me relentlessly until my surgical wounds burst, leaving me bleeding uncontrollably. She even took photos of my battered body, laughing as she suggested I sell myself to pay for his burial. Then, she deliberately scattered his ashes into the mud. How could Ethan, the man I once loved, stand by and watch me endure such depravity? Why was I trapped in this living hell, systematically tortured, robbed of my children, my body, and now my father, all based on some horrifying, unknown lie? As Olivia rained blows upon my head in the pouring rain, her hateful laughter echoing, I fumbled for my phone. There was one person who knew the true story behind Olivia’s venom, the real reason for her twisted revenge. With my last breath, I pressed record.

The story started on their first encounter. Something inside her urged Vanessa to offer him herself so that he could have a child. A beautiful story began but was cut short when she left right after a little girl was born. Four years later, he again found her in front of his eyes. But she was horrified when the little girl thought the diapers she had brought were a gift "I couldn't tell her that her mother abandoned her!" He explained. He would rather lie to his daughter than let her be disappointed in her mother. After all, he had always been sure that she would return one day!

"No wolf. No family. Harmless. Useful. The second I am done with her, the Luna title is yours." Eira Crawford heard those words through her husband's office door. For four years, she had been Sebastian Vale's hidden mate. She managed his household, entertained his relatives, cleaned up his messes, and lived on the three thousand dollars he gave her each month like charity. Even buying a new coat required an explanation. But for his first love, he casually prepared three hundred thousand dollars in research funding. To Sebastian, Eira was nothing more than a wolfless Omega from an orphanage. A quiet, obedient wife with no pack, no power, and no value beyond being useful. He had never introduced her publicly as his Luna. His family treated her like a servant. His sweetheart mocked her as a woman who could only survive by clinging to an Alpha. So Eira stopped crying. She recorded the affair, filed for mate dissolution, and placed the divorce papers in front of Sebastian. Even then, he thought she was throwing a tantrum. He signed without hesitation, certain she would come crawling back once she realized no one else would want a discarded, wolfless Omega. He was wrong. The woman he left at home washing dishes was a Stanford-trained electrical engineer. The "useless" wife he ignored was the hidden chief engineer behind a national self-developed chip project. Her movements were classified. Her disappearance could alert the federal authorities. Her name, once revealed, was enough to shake the entire scientific community. And Sebastian knew nothing. After walking out of his house with nothing but her freedom, Eira crossed paths with Killian Sterling, the coldest and most powerful Alpha in the north. He did not know her name yet, but his wolf recognized something in her that everyone else had missed. Meanwhile, Sebastian finally realized that Eira was not bluffing. He searched the entire city like a madman. For the first time in four years, he publicly called her his wife. He demanded she return. He begged for another chance. But by then, Eira was no longer waiting in his house. She was seated at the Sterling Pack's dinner table, dressed with quiet confidence, while the most feared Alpha in North America stood beside her. In front of everyone, Killian Sterling placed his hand at her back and said coldly, "Eira is not anyone's discarded Omega." "She is my Luna."

"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."

I was the wolfless disgrace of the pack, traded like cattle to a dying monster. When a royal decree stripped away my engagement, my own father gave my fiancé to my cruel sister, Charly. My punishment for being born without a wolf? A forced marriage to Demetri Contreras—the crippled, disgraced Alpha left to rot from silver poison. They threw me into a frozen, forgotten estate, waiting for my new husband to die so I could be buried as a silent widow. Charly laughed as she stole my life, my mate, and my future. My family discarded me, just like they murdered my mother years ago. They thought this exile would break me. They thought I was a helpless pawn. They didn't know that inside this fragile body lived the soul of the top interstellar miracle surgeon. Looking at the ruined, festering Alpha bleeding on my wedding bed, I didn't see a corpse. I saw the deadliest weapon in the realm. The fallen Alpha needs a miracle to survive. Lucky for him, I am the miracle. I will drag this monster back from the gates of hell—and together, we will burn my enemies to ash.

Amy grew up as the Beta's daughter, loyal to the pack to point of losing herself, convinced that fate would one day reward her devotion. When the sacred bond finally marked her as the mate of the future Alpha, she believed she had found her true love. But the ecstasy of one night turned into the dawn of condemnation: in front of the entire pack, she was stripped of her rank, her mate, and her future-all for her own sister, who carried the future Alpha's child. Amy finally learned that destiny could be denied, bargained away, trampled upon. She stood tall as they took everything from her, bowed her head as they humiliated her, and personally prepared the wedding invitations for the man who had chosen her... then abandoned her. At that, something within her froze, fractured, transformed. Rejecting a sacred bond chosen by the Moon Goddess always had consequences, and one day, the pack would face the consequences of defying the Goddess's will.

Talia Ashford has spent fifteen years hiding behind a glamour charm that makes her look plain, weak, and forgettable. Her stepmother, Vivienne Cress, reduced her to a servant after her mother disappeared in a mysterious fire. The pack believes Talia is worthless. On the day the Alpha of Shadowfang arrives, Celeste hits Talia and blames her for bad luck. But when Talia is called to the bonding ceremony, the bonding stone reveals a shocking truth. Talia is already bonded to Kaelen Frost, the cold and powerful Alpha of the Shadowfang Pack. Now Talia must survive her stepmother's schemes, hide her true powers, and uncover the truth about her mother – all while convincing the most dangerous wolf in the territory that she is not the weakling everyone believes her to be.

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.

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?

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.

Accidentally murdered the bride? Check. Forced to marry the cursed Alpha who's lost six wives? Check. Now wearing her dress, dragged to his bed, while the pack waits outside for proof he's fucked me raw? Double check. Remi was just trying to catch her cheating boyfriend in the act. Instead, she tripped, ripped lace, and cracked a skull. Now Alpha Nero Blackwater owns her. "Bride for bride," he growls. "You owe me a wedding... and a womb." The curse kills his mates before dawn. Unless he plants an heir fast. But something's wrong. What if there was never a curse at all? One night to survive. One claiming to break everything. One Alpha who'll fuck her senseless... even if it's the last thing she feels.

I was the "wolfless" Omega of the Stephenson Pack, treated like garbage for twenty years. When the wealthy Ramirez Pack offered an alliance, my adoptive family forced me to take my sister's place. I was to be the sacrificial bride for Calvin Ramirez, a terrifying Alpha King dying from a vicious curse. In my past life, I cried and begged them not to send me away. I blindly trusted my boyfriend, Pierce, who promised to save me. But I didn't know he was sleeping with my sister the whole time. Once they squeezed every drop of wealth from my forced marriage, they orchestrated my "accidental" death. As I lay dying in a pool of my own blood, I watched my sister and my boyfriend laughing over my corpse. They mocked me for being a pathetic, useless genetic dead end. Until the moment my heart stopped, I didn't understand why my absolute devotion only bought me a grave. Opening my eyes again, I was back on the morning I was supposed to be handed over to the Alpha King. This time, I calmly looked at my hypocritical family. "I'll do it, but I want a legally binding Pack Severance Agreement." "And all the alliance gifts from the Ramirez Pack belong to me." I watched their faces turn pale with sheer horror as my new power awakened. In this life, I choose to watch them burn.