Beatrice Wells

I died once. Betrayed by my own cousin. Stabbed by the man I loved. And finished off with poisoned wine while my fated mate watched, believing I was the traitor. But the Moon Goddess gave me a second chance. I woke up in my own bed, twenty years old, with the scars of my first life burned into my soul-and seven days to stop the union that destroyed everything. I was supposed to have time. Time to gather proof. Time to turn my grandmother against the vipers in our midst. Time to formally reject Alpha Gavin Carlisle before he could become my doom. Then they arrived a week early. Now I'm standing in my grandmother's council hall, wearing white like a declaration of war, refusing the Alpha's gifts and spinning lies about prophecies just to buy myself another breath. My cousin Karla watches my every move, hungry for my downfall. Her lover Jarrod circles like the predator he is, still thinking I'm the naive fool he once manipulated. They have no idea. I remember everything. Every whisper. Every knife in the dark. Every single player in the game that killed me. And this time? I'm the one holding the blade. My grandmother thinks I'm afraid of leaving home. The elders think I'm cursed. The Stonefang emissary thinks I'm a hysterical bride. But I know the truth: the real monsters are already inside these walls, and the Alpha who's supposed to be my enemy? He's already crossed into my territory. Unannounced. Uninvited. And determined to claim me anyway. Let him come. I've already died once for trusting the wrong people. I've burned in the fires of their betrayal. And now I have three days to save my pack, expose the traitors, and rewrite a destiny that was never mine to begin with. They wanted a victim. They got a warrior. "I would rather live my entire life alone and unmated than be the cause of so much death." But I'm not alone. And this time, I'm not dying.

For two years, I worked double shifts at a dingy laundromat, scrubbing blood out of suits until my hands were permanently raw. I starved myself to pay off a massive mafia debt my boyfriend, Dante, supposedly owed. But one day, the city's untouchable Mafia Princess walked in and revealed the cruel truth. Dante was the billionaire Don himself, and my suffering was just a sick undercover game he played to test my loyalty. Instead of ending the charade, Dante looked at me like I was invisible trash. He allowed his fiancée to frame me for theft, fired me, and forced me to kneel on the freezing concrete outside his headquarters. When his fiancée stole my severance and sent rogue soldiers to destroy me, I frantically called him for help while coughing up blood. "You are a degenerate gambler. Do not ever contact me again." He hung up the phone, leaving me to be brutally assaulted by the monsters until my bones snapped. Lying on my ruined floor, I couldn't understand how the man who used to whisper my name in the dark could be so merciless. I had bled my soul dry for him, only to be discarded like a liability. With my spirit entirely shattered, I typed out one final message. "If I die, will you regret it?" I stepped out of the eighteenth-floor window and let the wind swallow me whole. I never expected that days later, the untouchable Don would find my hidden love letters, go completely mad with grief, and step off that exact same ledge.

I spent hours preparing a perfect anniversary dinner for my billionaire husband, Damien Sterling. Instead of coming home, he appeared on a live broadcast, dropping $10 million on a diamond necklace for his first love, Isabel. Before I could process the public humiliation, the hospital called to tell me my grandmother, my only family, had died of a massive hemorrhage. The trigger was a visit from Isabel, who maliciously taunted her about our sham marriage and revealed Damien's company had wiped out her life savings. When I confronted them with a voice recording of Isabel's cruelty, Damien violently snatched the device and wiped the evidence to protect her. He even forced me to apologize when Isabel deliberately injured herself to frame me. I stared at him, completely disillusioned that he was blindly protecting a murderer who was actively selling his corporate secrets to his rivals. The last shred of my affection for him shattered into dust. Walking out of his manor, I calmly got into the sports car of his most ruthless enemy and made a deal. "I want to see Isabel Goodwin in a prison cell, and I want his empire to burn."

Eleonora woke up in the hospital, still feeling the terrifying weightlessness of her own suicide. She realized her chilling nightmare was actually a prophecy: she was destined to be the tragic, disposable villain, while her adopted sister Addisyn was the beloved protagonist. On the day of her discharge, her father abandoned her to celebrate Addisyn's eighteenth birthday. When Eleonora dragged her recovering body back to her family estate, she found her biometric access wiped and her home turned into a chaotic nightclub. Addisyn had taken over the master bedroom and was wearing Eleonora's late mother's priceless sapphire necklace. When Eleonora coldly demanded her property back, Addisyn squeezed out fake tears and played the pitiful victim. Instantly, Eleonora's childhood fiancé and lifelong friends stepped up to shield Addisyn. They scolded Eleonora for being cruel and classless, demanding she sleep in the guest room so she wouldn't ruin the party. Downstairs, the elite guests mocked her as a crazy, jealous freak who was bullying her sweet sister. In her nightmare, their blind devotion to this manipulative parasite had driven Eleonora to jump off a skyscraper. She was the sole legal heir to the Carlisle estate, yet they expected her to quietly hand over her home, her mother's legacy, and her life to a thief. But Eleonora was no longer a victim. She pulled out the irrevocable trust documents, proving her absolute ownership, and looked at her loyal butler. "Cut the power," she ordered coldly. "Throw every single trespasser out the gates."

Sienna woke up in a hospital room, her body screaming from a severe car accident. Through the glass, a man paced with violent rage, a dark shadow she felt absolutely nothing for. Her friend Julia burst in, eyes bloodshot, dropping a bomb: "He didn't even try to help you." Dante, Sienna's fiancé, had protected another woman, Valeria, in the crash, leaving Sienna to burn alive. Her past life unspooled – seven years sacrificed, an architecture degree abandoned, all to serve Dante. Her phone was a shrine to him: his photos, his "taboos," and even "Valeria's preferences," with no trace of Sienna herself. But amnesia brought no heartbreak, only a cold, calculating fury. She felt disgust for the "idiot" she'd been, stripped of dignity. The memory loss was a release, a blank slate. With chilling resolve, Sienna deleted every trace of Dante. Ripping out her IV, she declared, "The wedding proceeds." Not for love, but as a weapon: "I need to take back everything that belongs to me before I disappear."

Johana walked half a mile through a brutal blizzard just to secure a tutoring job with the elite Black family. But the very night she was hired, she received a terrifying call from the ER—her quiet roommate, Hazelle, had been drugged and severely traumatized at a Hamptons party. When Johana rushed to the hospital, she didn't find the police. Instead, she found a team of ruthless billionaires erasing the crime. Leading them was Dalton Black, the cold, arrogant older brother of her new student. Within minutes, Dalton's fixers wiped the hospital's security footage, deleted all digital evidence, and forcefully transferred Hazelle to a locked private psychiatric facility. "We are ensuring her privacy." Dalton's voice was devoid of emotion, treating the horrific assault like a minor PR glitch. His friends mocked Johana's powerlessness, while Dalton authorized a blank check to pay for the private ward, effectively burying the scandal and buying their silence. Johana stood in the sterile hallway, trembling with a mix of despair and absolute rage. How could they destroy an innocent girl's life and simply pay to make it disappear? Why was the truth so easily erased by money? She had no wealth, no connections, and no proof, but she refused to be a victim of their cover-up. Staring directly into Dalton's intimidating, icy blue eyes, Johana made a vow. "I don't want your money. I will find out what you monsters did to her." She thought the billionaire heir would crush her on the spot, but instead, he watched her walk away and quietly ordered his assistant: "Find out everything about Johana Neal."

My five-year-old daughter was turning blue in my arms, her body rigid with a 104-degree fever. I called my billionaire husband, Clifton, dozens of times as I rushed to the hospital, but he declined every single call. While I was screaming at doctors and fighting to save our child’s life, a news alert flashed on my phone. Clifton was at the Met Gala, looking devastatingly handsome as he intimately draped his tuxedo jacket over the shoulders of his mistress, Eleanora. The nightmare didn't end at the hospital. Clifton used a secret clause in our prenup to snatch Lily from her bed and move her to a private facility without my consent. When I finally found her, my own daughter shrank away from me in terror. "Go away, bad Mommy!" she sobbed, while the mistress fed her oatmeal and whispered that I was the one who made the doctors hurt her. Clifton stood by and watched, telling me I was too "hysterical" to be a mother. But then I discovered the real reason they were hiding her. My husband was illegally using my late mother’s rare bone marrow samples to treat Eleanora’s secret blood disorder. Now that those samples are failing, he is taking Lily to a secluded castle in Germany to harvest our daughter’s marrow for his mistress. I sat in the dark, watching them play happy family with the child they plan to sacrifice. I realized then that my marriage wasn't just a lie—it was a biological harvest. They think I’m just a broken trophy wife who doesn't understand the science they are using to destroy me. They have no idea that I am "Ghost," the anonymous medical genius behind the very research they are trying to steal. As we board the private jet to Germany, I’ve stopped crying and started calculating. If they want to play with life and death, I’ll show them exactly what happens when a mother stops being a victim and starts being a predator.

Ten minutes. That was how close I was to handing my fiancé the keys to a three-hundred-million-dollar empire built on my code. But when I walked into the office, his mistress was sitting in my chair, spinning the pen I bought him for our anniversary. Caleb didn't even look up. He told me the investors wanted stability, not a pregnant woman. He called our unborn child a "liability" and ordered security to escort me out of the building I paid for. I went home to pack, only to find a burner phone hidden in the closet. The texts were brutal. He called me an "incubator." He said once the deal was signed, he’d take the baby and dump the "nerd." When he caught me with the phone, he didn't apologize. He dragged me by my hair and threw me into the soundproof panic room to keep me quiet until the deal closed. "Caleb, please! I'm bleeding!" I pounded on the steel door until my hands were raw. But he just locked it and went to eat pizza with his mistress. Alone in the dark, on the freezing concrete, I felt the life inside me slip away. He hadn't just stolen my company; he had killed my child. He thought I was broken. He thought I was just "the help." But he forgot one thing: I built the security system he was trying to sell. Three days later, I rolled my wheelchair into his victory press conference, flanked by his biggest rival. "Do you trust your new code, Caleb?" "Because I wrote the backdoor. And I just opened it."

My husband, Aiden, brought his mistress to a gala. She was carrying my clutch bag, a gift from him. He was laughing, daring me to make a scene. But the ultimate cruelty wasn't the affair. It was when he brought up my kidnapping from ten years ago, using my deepest trauma as a weapon to publicly shame me. His mistress, Ember, piled on, her voice dripping with false pity. "Oh, Julia, I just can't imagine what you went through. Aiden told me everything. How you were… so damaged." I suddenly realized who she was: the daughter of the man who had orchestrated my kidnapping. This wasn't just an affair; it was a long-con revenge plot to destroy the company I had sacrificed everything to save. Aiden, the man who once swore to protect me, was her willing pawn. His cruelty had already cost me our unborn child years ago. In that moment, the last bit of love I had for him turned to ice. He thought he was breaking me. He had no idea he was just handing me the keys to his destruction.

To my husband, I was just a political bridge, a treaty with a heartbeat. While I sat alone in our cold estate, hiding the child growing inside me, Dante spent his days comforting his late brother's wife, Vanessa. He treated her like porcelain and me like furniture. The breaking point came the night I went into labor. Dante didn't hold my hand. He ran out of the clinic to comfort Vanessa over a fake emergency, leaving me and his unborn heir alone in the cold sterile room. So, I decided to give him exactly what he deserved: a ghost. I staged my death in the storm, leaving behind nothing but signed divorce papers and a tiny, mud-stained onesie. When Dante returned, he was told I died screaming his name. He spent months digging through the wreckage of the lighthouse with his bare hands, sobbing into the mud, finally realizing he had sacrificed his diamond for a stone. He discovered too late that I wasn't just a submissive wife—I was the secret daughter of Don Stefano, the most dangerous man in Europe. It took him three years to find me again. He fell to his knees at my feet, covered in grime, begging to meet his son. "I will fix this," he wept. "I will give you everything." I looked down at him from the steps of my private jet, flanked by my own army. "You can't fix what you broke, Dante," I said coldly. "If you ever come near my son again, I won't send a lawyer. I will send a war."

My husband, Austin Rogers, had been missing for five years, only to return with a royal illegitimate child. The first thing he did was burst into my daughter Joanna's room, wrap her in a blanket, and throw her into the sauna. His sister, Rosita, sneered as she poured a whole box of leeches inside and locked the door. I rushed over, begging them to let my daughter out. They glared at me with malice. "How dare you plead? The little princess bruised her leg yesterday. If her mother finds out, we'll all be in deep trouble. You're just envious! You want us to stay trapped in this miserable place with you forever." At that moment, I finally understood that they intended to use my daughter's life to appease that Slaka Queen. But their plan was doomed to fail. The person being bitten by leeches inside wasn't my daughter. They were about to face the consequences of their actions.

"Just turn here, Jennifer. It' s a shortcut." My mother-in-law, Debra, constantly dissected my driving, my life, everything. My husband, Matthew, and his father, Anthony, always made me endure her. I was used to it, but her relentless criticism and reckless interference-like grabbing the steering wheel in heavy traffic-escalated our arguments. Then, everything changed. One moment, her hand was on the wheel, the next, a screech of tires and the deafening roar of a semi-truck. The impact was a brutal explosion of metal and glass. My world shattered into searing pain and darkness. Through the haze, I heard their voices. Debra sobbing, "She tried to kill me." Anthony spitting, "That little bitch." Matthew, panicking, but asking, "Mom, are you okay?" Not me. And then, Anthony' s chilling whisper: "Let' s just… wait a minute. Make sure our story is straight." They were letting me die, watching me bleed out, discussing their alibi. The coldness of their betrayal was more agonizing than the crash itself. My life faded away to the sound of their lies. Then, a gasp. My eyes flew open. My hands clenched the steering wheel. "Debra, please, just let me drive…" The words tasted like ash. It was the day before the crash. I was back. I was whole. They took my life without a second thought. Now, I had a second chance. This time, I would be the one in control. And I was going to make them pay for what they did.

The cool, conditioned air of the St. Regis suite was the first thing I noticed when I gasped awake, my head throbbing from that familiar chemical fog – the drug my brother, Mark, used to set me up with Chloe, the woman I once foolishly loved. Then, the memories slammed into me like a physical blow: the terrifying fire, Lily' s desperate screams, the sickening smell of gasoline, and the crushing heat – this wasn't a nightmare, it was real, a past I had just escaped, and across the king-sized bed sat Chloe, my murderer, my executioner. My throat clenched, a raw, primal scream trapped within as my heart hammered against my ribs, recognizing this as the night, the precise moment everything twisted into a lifetime of agonizing obsession, cruel betrayal, and the inferno that ultimately consumed my first life and my precious daughter. How could I have been so utterly blind, so completely duped, so willingly walked into a meticulously set trap that not only cost me everything, but also my child, leaving only a cold, sharp rage simmering within, refusing to be a helpless victim again? I had a choice now, a real chance to rewrite my fate, and with shaking hands that barely obeyed, I found my phone, scrolled straight to Ryan' s number in Chloe' s contacts, hit dial, and rasped into the receiver, "Come get your girlfriend, St. Regis, Suite 1412; she' s waiting for you," knowing that this time, I would burn her world down first.

My wife, Sarah, and I built Innovatech Solutions from scratch, fueled by late-night pizza and big dreams. She was the charismatic CEO, I was the nuts-and-bolts guy as Head of Sales and Product Development. We were partners, co-founders, and deeply in love-or so I thought. Then she hired Kevin Young, a young, eager intern who seemed to know how to play the game. Suddenly, Sarah's focus shifted entirely to him, showering him with undeserved praise and opportunities, completely ignoring company values and our shared principles. Kevin got a company Tesla, a corner executive office usually reserved for VPs, and even a speaking slot at a prestigious tech conference I deserved. Sarah put him in charge of our most critical project, the Phoenix initiative, undermining my entire experienced team. The final straw came when she took him on a "strategy retreat" to Napa and posted a selfie showing off my engagement ring on her hand with him in the background for the whole company to see. The office was rife with whispers, speculation that I was being replaced, that they were together. My anger slowly froze into a cold, profound disappointment. How could the woman I' d built everything with betray me so completely, publicly choosing this manipulative intern over our company, our marriage, and me? Her blindness was staggering, her choices inexplicable, yet devastating. That night, I knew I had to plan my exit, not just from Innovatech, but from her. I quietly activated my secret weapon, my Uncle Mike, and began a meticulously calculated operation to take back everything she had carelessly thrown away. What she didn' t know was that while she was busy playing favorites, I was building a new empire, ready to reveal itself at the perfect, most humiliating moment.

The doctor's words sealed Amelia Hayes's fate: aggressive, stage four ovarian cancer. Consumed by overwhelming guilt for her best friend Liv's tragic death years ago, Amy numbly embraced the diagnosis as a deserved end, refusing treatment and signing away her organs. Her penance wasn't over; Liv's grief-stricken brother, Ethan Carter, who viciously blamed Amy for his sister's demise, still dictated her every move. He meticulously orchestrated her public humiliation, forcing her into back-breaking tasks and enduring his cruel fiancée's sadistic games, watching Amy weaken, every ounce of suffering a grim reminder of Liv's absence. Amy accepted every degrading act, every physical pain, enduring it all as a desperate attempt to atone for her relentless survivor's guilt. Yet, even as her body failed, the gnawing question lingered: was her self-destruction truly a sacrifice for Liv, or simply a prolonged, theatrical torment orchestrated by Ethan for his own twisted closure? Finally, broken and desperate, Amy sought ultimate release, calling 911 from atop the George Washington Bridge, her final wish to donate her organs to give life even as hers ended. But a secret ally pulled her back from the brink, allowing her to fake her own death and forge a new identity, unaware that her "demise" would drive Ethan, consumed by his own guilt and pain, to the verge of madness, setting the stage for an explosive, unforeseen reunion years later that would challenge everything they believed about love, hate, and forgiveness.

My family owed the Vances, a debt etched invisibly deep into our lives. Years ago, I’d even donated bone marrow to Julian, Richard Vance’s son, the boy I once hero-worshipped. It felt like a small repayment, tying me deeper into their world. Then Julian came to me, his handsome face etched with worry. “Mia,” he urgent, “It’s Cassandra. Her kidneys are failing. You’re a perfect match.” He was asking for another piece of me. In that suffocating moment, a brutal vision slammed into me: Cassandra dying, Julian’s monstrous rage, my life systematically destroyed, culminating in my suspicious death from his calculated revenge. The horror of this terrifying premonition stripped away every shred of naivety. How could the man whose life I’d saved, whose family saved mine, be capable of such monstrous malice? Survival became my only thought. I looked at him, not a hero, but a potential destroyer. “Alright, Julian,” I said, my voice surprisingly steady. “I’ll do it. But I have conditions. This will be the final repayment. A legally binding contract for complete severance of all ties, and a substantial sum for my complete disappearance. My ticket to freedom.”

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.

"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."

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.

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.