Luo Chengfeng

For three years, I scrubbed tables as a "wolfless runt," hiding my identity as the Lycan King's daughter. It was a test for my fiancé, Alpha Connor. I wanted to see if he loved the girl, or just the crown. He failed spectacularly tonight. His mistress, Jaden, deliberately knocked a tray of drinks onto me during the dinner rush. The liquid wasn't alcohol. It was concentrated silver. My flesh hissed and bubbled as the poison ate through my skin, blocking any ability to heal. I fell to the floor, clutching my melting hand, while Jaden faked tears and claimed I attacked her. When Connor finally answered the video call, he saw my mangled hand. He smelled the burning flesh. He knew it was silver. But he didn't help me. He looked at his watch, annoyed that I was interrupting his business meeting with investors. "Apologize to Jaden," he ordered, using his Alpha Command to crush me into submission. "On your knees. Now." The pain was blinding, but the betrayal cut deeper. He was forcing his Fated Mate to bow to the woman who tried to maim her. My knees bent under the pressure, but my Royal blood refused to break. I looked straight into the camera lens. "No," I whispered. I reached into my apron, bypassing the notepad, and pulled out a black satellite phone I hadn't touched in years. "Code Black," I said to the King on the other end. "Send the Guard." Connor thought he was disciplining a waitress. He didn't know he just declared war on the Royal Family.

Aria Campbell stood in the opulent office of her biological father, Andrew. He demanded she publicly accept the humiliating title of his illegitimate daughter to smooth the social path for his stepdaughter, Yvonne. To keep her out of their elite world, he threw a $50,000 check at her, ordering her to attend a blue-collar vocational school. "You will learn a trade, and you will stay out of our way." He wanted her to forget that his current wife, Helena, had murdered Aria's mother by pushing her down a flight of stairs. When Aria refused, Helena and Yvonne ambushed her in the rain, trying to ruin her with a bucket of filthy water. They used their family's massive influence to blacklist her from every top university in the city, intent on leaving her to rot in the Rust Belt like trash. They thought she was just a helpless, pathetic girl who would eventually bow to their wealth and power. They had no idea she was a commander from three thousand years in the future, reborn into this era to stop an impending AI apocalypse. How could a man staring at a puddle comprehend an ocean? Aria didn't take the money. Instead, she shattered Andrew's glasses with a flick of the check, vaulted their mansion's iron fence to smash every window on their ground floor, and hacked the global network to erase her digital footprint. She was heading to the Veridian Institute of Technology, and her war had just begun.

For three years, my husband Hudson convinced everyone I was crazy. My parents. Our friends. Even my own therapist. He said my suspicions were just anxiety. PTSD from our miscarriage. That I needed my medication and a good night's sleep. But a pink butterfly hair clip in his car told a different story. It wasn't mine. And we don't have children. When I confronted him, he sighed with practiced patience—the same sigh he'd perfected over three years of making me doubt my own mind. "It belongs to a client's daughter," he said, reaching for my pills. "Your anxiety is flaring up again." I almost believed him. I always almost believed him. But this time, I didn't back down. I invited his mistress and their three-year-old son to our family dinner. With the DNA test results in my purse, I was ready to burn his perfect world to the ground. He thought he could gaslight me forever. He was wrong.

Flora Sawyer was backed into a corner by a wealthy, married doctor who relentlessly harassed her at the hospital. Desperate for a way out, she signed a prenuptial agreement in a rundown diner to marry a complete stranger. Josiah Vance claimed to be a bankrupt, failed IT programmer. He offered to be her legal shield, and in return, she let him sleep on her cramped apartment couch. But the nightmare only escalated. Grant, her wealthy tormentor, cornered them at a dinner party. He poured red wine all over Josiah's cheap thrift-store shirt, mocking him as a pathetic parasite living off a public nurse's meager salary. The entire room laughed, watching Flora's new husband endure the ultimate public humiliation. They didn't know that to help Josiah start over, Flora had just emptied her entire life savings of fifty thousand dollars, leaving herself with exactly eighty-four dollars. Watching the man who had offered her a lifeline be treated like garbage, something inside Flora completely snapped. She couldn't understand why money gave these arrogant people the right to crush others. Her chest burned with a fierce, undeniable rage. She stepped directly in front of Josiah, shielding him with her own body, and slammed a stack of papers onto the table. "My husband might be broke, but you are the real parasite." What Flora didn't know was that the silent, bankrupt man standing behind her was actually a trillionaire, and his game to destroy her enemies had already begun.

The DNA test in my hands felt like a death sentence. 0% match. After three years of marriage to billionaire Joseph Villarreal, the truth was out: I wasn't the heiress everyone thought I was. My mother-in-law, Buna, marched into the study with a team of lawyers and threw the divorce papers at me. "You're a fraud, Giselle," she sneered. "The Woods family has cut you off. You are a parasite we are finally removing." I looked at Joseph, praying for a spark of the man I loved. But he just sat there, cold and immaculate, exhaling a plume of cigar smoke that felt like a wall between us. "Sign it," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "This marriage was a business transaction. The product I purchased was fraudulent." They didn't just take my home; they stripped me of my dignity. They forced me to hand over my anniversary necklace and yank the wedding ring off my finger, claiming the stone belonged to the "real" daughter, Clydie. Joseph watched with total indifference as I was kicked out into a torrential storm. I collapsed in the mud halfway down the driveway, clutching a broken suitcase, twenty-three years old and completely alone. I didn't understand how three years of devotion could be worth zero to him. He didn't even hate me; he just saw me as a depreciated asset. As I sobbed in the rain, I realized the man I had given my heart to never existed. But Joseph didn't know that the "fake" he threw away was actually the long-lost daughter of the Hines global empire. Six years later, I am no longer the girl crying in the mud. I am Dr. Mandy, the world's top neurosurgeon and a billionaire in my own right. When a little boy with Joseph’s espresso-colored eyes approached me in the hospital and begged me to save his father, I realized the man who ruined me was finally in my hands.

On our third anniversary, my husband Marcus walked out on our dinner because his "best friend" Izzy had a crisis. That was the ninth time he chose her call over my presence. According to the sick bet I made with her years ago, it was game over. But the true end didn't come in a restaurant. It happened inside a plummeting elevator. When the cable snapped and the emergency brakes slammed us to a halt, I lay trapped under debris, my leg fractured and head bleeding. Izzy, terrified but scratched-free, screamed for help. Marcus didn't even look at me. He stepped over my broken body to scoop her up. "I've got you, Iz," he whispered, carrying her out to safety while I lay alone in the dust, gasping his name. He left me to die in that metal box. Later, when I confronted him, he called me "unstable" and "jealous." He claimed I was a burden, a placeholder he married just to pass the time until Izzy was ready for him. He even shoved me into a freezing lake to protect her from a confrontation she started. He thought I would always be there, the pathetic wife waiting in the shadows. He thought his love was a prize I would endure any torture to keep. He was wrong. I signed the divorce papers, threw my ring into the ocean, and vanished without a trace. Three years later, I returned to New York as a celebrated artist, with a man who treated me like a masterpiece, not a prop. Marcus, now ruined by Izzy’s lies and stripped of his fortune, found me. He knelt in the rain on the city street, weeping, begging for one more chance to fix us. I looked down at the husband who had let me drown. "There is no 'us', Marcus," I said calmly. Then I turned my back on him and walked into my future.

The memory was a ghost that never left me, a film of a life I had already lived and lost. In that other life, the end was cold and dark: my son, Tom, gave up, worn down by his father Mark' s betrayal and the world turning its back on us. Mark, my husband, the man I' d sacrificed everything for, watched as his wealthy new lover, Jessica, and her son, Kevin, systematically destroyed Tom' s future, stealing his scholarship and publicly humiliating him. When Tom tragically left me alone in a world that had turned its back, Mark was at a gala, accepting an award, uncaring. I drowned in despair, until I woke up, not dead, not grieving, but back. Back to the hospital breakroom, the cold coffee, the smell of cafeteria chili. The day it all started to unravel. This was my chance, a chance I didn' t ask for but would not waste. I tore off my badge, left my hospital shift, and ran ten blocks, the rage fueling my every step. I burst into the high school, just as Mark, the socialite, and her smug son stood there, my Tom nowhere in sight. "Where is my son?" I demanded, my voice raw, ready to set their perfect world on fire. Mark denied everything, calling me "unwell," making me look like the crazy ex-wife. Then, Kevin pushed Tom, and Mark, in front of everyone, coddled Kevin, while my boy bled. He even tried to send us away, telling me to pack our things and disappear. But the final straw was Kevin, burning Tom' s precious family quilt, and Mark, instead of punishing him, blamed me. My son, seeing his father' s utter disregard, declared, "You' re not my father!" And Mark, in a fit of rage, raised his hand to strike Tom. I threw myself in front of my son, taking the brutal slap that echoed the pain of a lifetime of betrayal. I wouldn' t let my son get tired. I would fight. The next morning, I took Tom' s hand, and we marched directly into the lion' s den-General Miller' s office at Fort Connolly Army Base. I knelt, a humiliated-yet-determined mother, begging for help. "My husband is destroying our lives, and we have nowhere else to turn. Please, just give us five minutes of your time." This time, justice would not be denied.

The scent of charcoal and happy laughter perfectly painted our Saturday afternoon, a beacon of the quiet life I' d built for my daughter, Lily, after everything we' d been through. Suddenly, a black sports car screeched into our driveway, and my wife' s brother, Leo, stormed into our backyard, followed by two thuggish friends. He sneered, mocking my life, calling me a "freeloader" and a "parasite," even striking me. My wife, Sarah, appeared, but instead of defending our terrified Lily, she sided with her brother, calling me a "failure" and demanding I leave. Lily, hyperventilating from fear, whimpered, "Mommy... please... make them stop," but Sarah dismissed it, her eyes fixed on Leo. How could the woman I' d sacrificed everything for, the mother of my child, choose this violence, this betrayal, this cruelty? In that shattering moment, as Sarah chose her vile brother over our trembling daughter, I knew I had to unleash the man I' d buried for ten years.

The fluorescent hum of the deserted office was my constant companion, a symphony to my late-night grind as an architect, building dreams one blueprint at a time. Then, out of nowhere, text shimmered in the air, a chilling heads-up display only I could see: "[Target acquired: The Architect. She' s working late again. Perfect.]" My blood ran cold as more lines appeared, taunting me with plans for a "Chivalry Challenge" at a $5,700 prize. It finally clicked-Mark Johnson, that slimy social media influencer who' d turn women' s fear into profit, had found me. He came, smooth as ever, with a drugged coffee, mocking me while I fought through a fogged mind, my desperate calls for help swallowed by his practiced lies to the security guard. My brothers came back for me, their faces illuminated by flashing lights, my last-ditch effort to crash his car paying off just as I succumbed to the drug. But the nightmare wasn' t over; Mark walked free, his lawyer spinning tales of my "manic episodes," leaving my brother Chris to face assault charges for defending me. The injustice burned, fueling a rage that cleared the haze: he wouldn't win, not if I could help it. "This isn't over," I declared, my voice steady, eyes fixed on my brothers, ready to dismantle his empire. Then Michael sent me the link-Mark' s new video, painting me as the aggressor, a "crazy" woman. Scrolling through the venomous comments, one caught my eye: "DesignDiva88," my colleague Lisa Chen, claiming she' d told him to "back off." She was complicit, a willing accessory, and with that, I knew exactly how to begin.

I used to think my biggest challenge was building life support systems for astronauts, but then I came home. My quiet Ohio hometown, the one I' d escaped with an MIT scholarship and a secret burning desire for a bigger life, felt smaller than ever. I was back for a high school reunion, reluctantly, to face Matthew Scott, the boy who' d relentlessly bullied me and now owned half the town. He thought I was still "just Gabby," a wash-up struggling with a boring data entry job, a lie I carefully maintained to protect my parents and my classified work at NASA. The reunion quickly devolved into the public humiliation I expected, with Matthew and his sycophants cornering me, pouring wine on me, and trying to extort money. But then, he crossed a line far more dangerous than he could ever comprehend. He snatching my phone, oblivious that it held top-secret national security data, and used it to call his corrupt sheriff buddy, thinking he had finally trapped me. He thought he was calling in local backup to finish off his high school rival, but in reality, he had just triggered a security alert that would bring the full force of the federal government crashing down on his little kingdom. He had no idea that in his arrogant attempt to destroy my life, he had just detonated his own, and mine was about to get a surprising new chapter.

The sky exploded with Fourth of July fireworks, painting red and gold, but all I tasted was sulfur and betrayal. My hand instinctively went to the fresh, tender scar on my side, a chilling reminder of what they' d stolen. My family, the people who were supposed to love me, held me down for a doctor to take my kidney for my 'perfect' adoptive sister, Savannah. Chase, my boyfriend and duet partner, celebrated with Savannah, his secret lover, after calling me his "hero." It was all a meticulously planned conspiracy: nurture my career, use my body, then discard me. I, Ava Monroe, country music sensation, was nothing but a spare part, an orphan adopted for good PR, now reduced to a literal organ donor. With nothing left-no family, no love, no reason-I stood on a cold bridge, the canyon a black mouth waiting to swallow my despair. A kind stranger, Liam, tried to pull me back, speaking of bad breakups, oblivious to the monstrous truth. They didn' t just break my heart; they cut me open and took a piece of me, leaving me utterly shattered. As the finality of my decision set in, a gut-wrenching twist of fate occurred: Liam, the only person who cared, jumped with me to save my life. But instead of darkness, I awoke, healthy and whole, in my dressing room, one month earlier, before the betrayal. I wasn't just given a second chance to save myself; I was given a chance to save him, the hero who sacrificed everything for me. My mission became crystal clear: First, I would live. Second, I would make them pay. And third, I would find Liam Sullivan and keep him safe, no matter what it took.

For seven long years, I'd been trapped in a rigged game, playing an ER nurse in Chicago. My mission was simple: get the hospital's wealthy benefactor, Julian Vance, to romantically reject me 100 times. The prize? My real life back in Montana, a massive payout, and a unique gift. I was so close, just two rejections away. For rejection ninety-nine, I pitched the ultimate absurd proposal: marriage, but only if I survived a risky medical mission. He always said no. But this time, Julian Vance, Mr. Emotionally Unavailable, looked me dead in the eye and said, "Alright. Seriously." My carefully constructed world imploded. My "game" was utterly derailed. Every desperate attempt to provoke a rejection only made him agree, sometimes even openly. Then the Vance Tower collapsed. I was trapped, severely injured, calling for help amidst the chaos. My comm crackled, Julian finally picking up. Relief flooded me until I heard his voice, sharp and impatient: "Ava, I'm dealing with Chloe's trauma right now. This isn't the time for your dramatics." He hung up, prioritizing his ex-fiancée's fake injuries over my life. The universe twisted. That dismissive click became my one hundredth rejection. My mission was complete. I died in that crumbling building, only to reawaken in Montana, rich and gifted. But the question remained: had I truly won, or merely traded one prison for another, haunted by the man I' d been forced to break?

Sarah, a dedicated support for her university esports team, Alpha Squad, poured her heart into winning alongside her star-fragger boyfriend, Ethan, dreaming of a championship title together. Late one night, her world shattered when she accidentally overheard Ethan on Discord, cold-heartedly plotting with Tiffy, a rival streamer. He revealed he was merely using Sarah's skills to secure a championship spot, intending to publicly sideline, then cruelly dump her after their win. The man she loved, her captain, saw her as nothing more than a temporary, disposable tool, mocking her loyalty. When she confronted him, he dismissed her pain, gaslighting her by claiming she was "crazy" and "jealous," Tiffy smirking beside him. Every sacrifice, every moment of unwavering loyalty, felt like a cruel joke. How could someone she fully trusted betray her so profoundly, reducing her dreams to a manipulative ploy? The burning injustice morphed into cold resolve. "I'm done," she declared, walking away from Alpha Squad and their toxic relationship, dismissing Ethan's arrogant threats that she was "nothing without him." But an unexpected call soon followed: Alex Chen, legendary captain of rival Omega Ghosts, had seen her true, suppressed talent. He wanted her as their primary fragger, offering Sarah a chance not just for revenge, but for a whole new destiny.

I secretly loved my best friend's older brother, Alex, for years. My clumsy text message accidentally sent to him unexpectedly pulled me back into his orbit. But our reunion was overshadowed by his ex, Jess, who years ago had cunningly ruined my chance with Alex, forcing me to leave town in shame. At a recent coffee shop encounter, she publicly accused me of stalking him again, forcing a humiliating scene where Alex overheard my desperate attempts to deny my feelings. That was just the beginning. Jess then launched a vicious online smear campaign, twisting every interaction into proof of me being an unstable, obsessed stalker. My reputation was destroyed, job interviews evaporated, and I found myself an outcast, drowning in a public narrative of lies. How could one person inflict such targeted malice? Would Alex ever see past her manipulations? The injustice of her lies felt suffocating, threatening to erase who I was. Just when I thought I couldn't take any more, when the shame and despair were overwhelming, Alex, the man who once coldly rejected me, decided to take a stand in the most public way imaginable, risking everything to reclaim my name and prove his love.

The last thing I saw was Thunder’s bloodied jaws, closing in on me. My daughter, Sophia, lay broken a few feet away, already gone. Pain, then darkness. Then, with a gasp, I bolted upright, my heart hammering like a drum. I was back on the same rough porch, facing the same smug smirk of Old John. At the end of his chain was Thunder, the Australian Cattle Dog who had butchered my child and me. “Heard you were back in town, Isabella,” Old John rasped, his voice a cruel mockery of a welcome. “Brought you a little housewarming gift,” he added, pulling the chain as Thunder whined, straining to reach me, just like that first time. The memory crashed over me: Thunder’s lunge, the searing agony as his teeth tore my thigh, the hot gush of blood, and then, Sophia’s petrified screams followed by chilling silence as he turned to her. Old John had known my paralyzing fear of dogs, yet he had specifically brought this hulking beast to torment me. He had laughed when I pleaded, ignoring the danger, using the dog as his personal weapon. Every horrifying detail, every agonizing moment of Sophia’s brutal death and my own demise, flooded my mind with chilling clarity. But this time, as Thunder lunged forward once more, I forced my trembling legs to stop. No. Not again. This time, things would be different.

She thought all he wanted for her was to give birth to his child. In order to get the mansion that held all of her cherished memories, Yolande would have to get married within the next three days according to her grandfather’s will. However, she found out that her boyfriend cheated on her with her best friend. The only other choice she had left now was Baron, the man she had a one-night stand with when she got trapped. Gritting her teeth, she married him, albeit reluctantly. And before she even realized it, she had already fallen into his love trick.

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 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.

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?

"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."

At the grand Moonwise Festival, my fiancé, Archon Elliott, decided to publicly humiliate me in front of the entire court. He commanded me to kneel and beg for his betrothal flower, treating me like a broken slave rather than the heir to House Leon. When I refused, he brought his mistress, Corliss Schneider, into my study to deliver his ultimate punishment. "Our marriage will be in name only. I will not share your bed, and I will certainly never give you a child." He wanted to make me a barren laughingstock, while forcing me to publicly request Corliss be made his Junior Consort. To make things worse, Corliss pulled out a jeweled dagger-the exact kind her cousin had used to cripple my brother's leg. "On your wedding day, you will take this dagger, and you will slice open your own arm." She demanded I bleed at the threshold of the Underwood estate as "payment" for offending her. Elliott didn't stop her. Instead, a dark flicker of pleasure crossed his eyes. He wanted to see me mutilated. I had wasted years loving a man who blindly protected the woman who ruined my family, believing he could force my submission. But I didn't cry or beg. I simply laughed at their sheer stupidity.

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.

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.

I was lying in the cold delivery room, enduring the agonizing contractions of giving birth to twins. When I desperately called my fated mate, Alpha Dixon, to tell him the babies were coming, his voice was like ice. "Let my assistant handle it. Don't call me again." He hung up, abandoning me for another woman's laughter in the background. He left me to give birth completely alone, treating me like a pathetic, disposable Omega. He had even threatened that if I didn't sign the mate rejection papers, he would take my children away forever. I thought my life was shattered by the man who was supposed to protect me. But a routine blood test by the hospital's Healer revealed a shocking truth. I wasn't an orphaned nobody. I was the long-lost pureblood White Wolf heir of the legendary Beaumont Pack. Within hours, my true family—a powerful Alpha father, a Luna mother, and three fiercely protective brothers—rushed to my side, wrapping me in the absolute authority and wealth of the world's strongest Pack. Backed by my new family, I summoned Dixon to the Pack Council to formally complete our rejection. I watched his arrogant face as the clerk asked if I accepted his rejection. But just as I opened my mouth to sever our bond forever, Dixon froze. He was hit by an urgent mind-link, and his cold confidence instantly shattered into pure, unadulterated panic. "We're not done!" he snarled, fleeing the hall before the ceremony could end. I stood there, staring at the door. What on earth did that mind-link say?

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.

Trapped in a loveless engagement, I played the quiet, dutiful Omega for six long years. Until my stepsister "accidentally" texted me a photo of my fiancé naked in her arms-wearing my birthday necklace. My pack told me to swallow the humiliation. Instead, I wiretapped his secret love nest. I watched them on live camera as he called me a useless half-blood. I didn't shed a tear. I simply saved the HD footage, put on my armor-an ice-blue gown-and took the stage at the grandest charity auction. I didn't just break the engagement; I ruined his entire family line on live display. As chaos erupted, I prepared to walk away alone. Until the terrifying Lycan King blocked my path, claimed me in front of every pack leader, and whispered: "You've had your fun, sweetheart. Now, let your King handle the rest."