Rabbit

As a wolfless charity case at the Hyde Pack's celebration, my world shattered when Braydon, my supposed protector, publicly announced Katherine Parrish as his Luna, erasing me. Heartbroken, I fled into a terrifying contract marriage with Alpha King Dallas Marshall for protection. Braydon's public assault and threats forced me to reveal my secret marriage, challenging the King. My "protection" felt like a prison. Braydon revealed I was a "key" to power, not a mate, confirming my fears. Enraged by my attempt to take a morning-after pill, Dallas forced me to swallow it, then branded my lips with a furious kiss. His chilling silence hardened my resolve. I immediately drafted an addendum to our contract, setting strict boundaries to reclaim control.

On my wedding day, my father sold me to the Chicago Outfit to pay his debts. I was supposed to marry Alex Moreno, the heir to the city's most powerful crime family. But he couldn't even be bothered to show up. As I stood alone at the altar, humiliated, my best friend delivered the final blow. Alex hadn't just stood me up; he had run off to California with his mistress. The whispers in the cathedral turned me into a joke. I was damaged goods, the rejected bride. His family knew the whole time and let me take the public fall, offering me his cousins as pathetic replacements-a brute who hated me or a coward who couldn't protect me. The humiliation burned away my fear, leaving only cold rage. My life was already over, so I decided to set the whole game on fire myself. The marriage pact only said a Carlson had to marry a Moreno; it never said which one. With nothing left to lose, I looked past the pathetic boys they offered. I chose the one man they never expected. I chose his father, the Don himself.

For two years, I was the Alpha's secret wife, a duty he resented. But the positive pregnancy test in my hand was a miracle, a blessing from the Moon Goddess. This baby, our heir, was supposed to be the bridge that finally mended our broken mate bond. That night, he left without a word. I saw on a gossip site that he'd gone to pick up his ex-lover, Isadora. Reaching for him through our bond, I wasn't met with his usual coldness, but with her emotions bleeding through him-triumph and smug possession. The next morning, I went to his office, ready to tell him about our baby, believing our child could fix us. But I stopped when I heard him talking to our Pack Healer about me. The healer said I looked fragile, that he should care for his mate. My husband laughed. "You seem to care for her more than I do," Demetri said, his voice dripping with ice. "Do you want me to give her to you? Take her. She's of no use to me." My world shattered. I wasn't just unloved; I was a thing to be discarded. I looked down at the pregnancy report, the proof of the life inside me, and made a vow. He would never know about our child, and I would sever our bond myself.

My marriage to Joshua Caldwell was a prison sentence. I was a Hartman trophy, sold to the powerful family who had destroyed mine. Then I discovered he was cheating. His mistress was pregnant with the child he denied me, and he was stealing my secret song lyrics to build her career. When I confronted him, he called me a spineless liability and threatened to destroy what was left of my family. To make matters worse, a one-night stand with a stranger turned out to be with my husband's brother, Anthony Caldwell-the Don of the city. He knew all of Joshua's secrets and used them to trap me in a twisted game, seeing me as nothing more than an asset. They both thought I was a broken doll they could control. I wrote a song for his mistress, a beautiful execution with a single, impossible note I knew would destroy her voice. She sang it, and now her career is over. Now the Don has summoned me to Chicago, not knowing the woman he thinks is his asset is the one who just burned his brother's world to the ground.

The acrid smell of smoke still clung to Evelyn in the ambulance, her lungs raw from the penthouse fire. She was alive, but the world around her felt utterly destroyed, a feeling deepened by the small TV flickering to life. On it, her husband, Julian Vance, thousands of miles away, publicly comforted his mistress, Serena Holloway, shielding her from paparazzi after *her* "panic attack." Julian's phone went straight to voicemail. Alone in the hospital with second-degree burns, Evelyn watched news replays, her heart rate spiking. He protected Serena from camera flashes while Evelyn burned. When he finally called, he demanded she handle insurance, dismissing the fire; Serena's voice faintly heard. The shallow family ties and pretense of marriage evaporated. A searing injustice and cold anger replaced pain; Evelyn knew Julian had chosen to let her burn. "Evelyn Vance died in that fire," she declared, ripping out her IV. Armed with a secret fortune as "The Architect," Hollywood's top ghostwriter, she walked out. She would divorce Julian, reclaim her name, and finally step into the spotlight as an actress.

My wealthy husband, Nathaniel, stormed in, demanding a divorce to be with his "dying" first love, Julia. He expected tears, pleas, even hysteria. Instead, I calmly reached for a pen, ready to sign away our life for a fortune. For two years, I played the devoted wife in our sterile penthouse. That night, Nathaniel shattered the facade, tossing divorce papers. "Julia's back," he stated, "she needs me." He expected me to crumble. But my calm "Okay" shocked him. I coolly demanded his penthouse, shares, and a doubled stipend, letting him believe I was a greedy gold digger. He watched, disgusted, convinced I was a monster. He couldn't fathom my indifference or ruthless demands. He saw avarice, not a carefully constructed facade. His betrayal had awakened something far more dangerous. The second the door closed, the dutiful wife vanished. I retrieved a burner phone and a Glock, ready to expose the elaborate lie he and Julia had built.

My fated mate, Alpha Kaden, watched me die slowly for three years while he groomed his mistress. When our pup withered and died inside me due to his neglect, he publicly accused me of murder. That was the day I stopped dying for him and started living to defy him. The Pack Healer confirmed our pup's soul returned to the Goddess; Kaden's weakened bond was literally killing me, forcing a procedure to remove the last physical tether. Immediately after, Kaden returned with Cori Mullins, his 'true love', and found me. He snarled accusations I'd destroyed his heir-a lie Cori eagerly reinforced. He dismissed my cries that he killed our baby, believing their narrative. My inner wolf gave a final gurgling howl as necrosis spread, and he swallowed Cori's lie that she, not me, saved him from rogues. I looked into his eyes and saw only disgust; he deemed my pain a performance, blind to the bond rotting me. Realizing he would never believe me, I formally rejected him as my Mate. He laughed, dismissed it as a tantrum, and refused to accept. But as he walked away, leaving me to die, I vowed to reclaim my life. I vanished into the night, determined to live for myself, whatever the deadly cost.

"Anya, a 'wolfless' in a world of powerful werewolves, was invisible, drowning her sorrows and desperately lonely. One drunken text, a desperate cry for attention, accidentally reached the Alpha, pulling her into his terrifying orbit. Now, she's trapped, a pawn in his game, forced to warm his bed while he waits for his true mate, her heart breaking with every stolen moment. As a 'wolfless' in the Blackwood Pack, Anya felt like an outsider, always yearning for a connection. One night, in a drunken haze, a misdirected text meant for her best friend landed in Alpha Declan Blackwood's inbox: ""Send me something hot."" Minutes later, the most powerful, terrifying man in the Pack stood at her door, claiming her with a possessive kiss that ignited a dangerous, unwanted fire. The next morning, his cold indifference shattered her world. Publicly humiliated and instantly fired, Anya became a pariah. Her dying mother's urgent need for a million-dollar heart transplant left her with an impossible choice: accept the Alpha's cold, transactional marriage proposal or watch her mother die. She became his ""placeholder"" wife, a contract, not a partner, all while battling a confusing attraction to the man who treated her as property. Why did he demand her, only to remind her constantly of her worthlessness, especially when everyone knew he waited for his true mate? Her world crumbled when she overheard Declan tell his returning ""true mate,"" Kristin Larsen, that Anya was ""just a substitute."" Despite the crushing betrayal and a strange, unyielding pull, Anya, fueled by her mother's desperate need, vowed to survive this gilded cage and reclaim her life before she lost herself completely."

My husband, Ethan Vance, made me his trophy wife. My best friend, Susanna Thorne, helped me pick out my wedding dress. Together, they made me a fool. For three years, I was Mrs. Ethan Vance, a decorative silence in his billion-dollar world, living a quiet routine until a forgotten phone charger led me to his office. The low, feminine laugh from behind his door was a gut-punch; inside, I found Ethan and Susanna, my "best friend" and his CMO, tangled on his sofa, his only reaction irritation. My divorce declaration brought immediate scorn and threats. I was fired, my accounts frozen, and publicly smeared as an unstable gold-digger. Even my own family disowned me for my last cent, only for me to be framed for assault and served a restraining order. Broke, injured, and utterly demonized, they believed I was broken, too ashamed to fight. But their audacious betrayal and relentless cruelty only forged a cold, unyielding resolve. Slumped alone, a restraining order in hand, I remembered my hidden journal: a log of Ethan's insider trading secrets. They wanted a monster? I would show them one.

Yelena discovered that she wasn't her parents' biological child. After seeing through their ploy to trade her as a pawn in a business deal, she was sent away to her barren birthplace. There, she stumbled upon her true origins-a lineage of historic opulence. Her real family showered her with love and adoration. In the face of her so-called sister's envy, Yelena conquered every adversity and took her revenge, all while showcasing her talents. She soon caught the attention of the city's most eligible bachelor. He cornered Yelena and pinned her against the wall. "It's time to reveal your true identity, darling."

The thunder cracked over the Hamptons, but it was nothing compared to Elena Sharp's scream. She lay twisted on the marble foyer, accusing me of trying to kill her baby. My husband, Julian, walked in, saw the scene, and his eyes froze me out of his life forever. He didn't listen, shoving a separation agreement across the desk, accusing me of murder. Stripped of my name and home, I was thrown out, left with nothing but my clothes and a terrifying secret growing inside me. My accounts frozen, I ended up in a crumbling Philadelphia row house, forced to pawn heirlooms. During a fire, my water broke, and I delivered our premature daughter, June, whose lungs were damaged. I stole formula to feed her, facing massive medical bills. Accused of destroying an heir, I was exiled while carrying his true legacy, fighting for every breath. The injustice burned, but June's life was my only fight. Three years later, June needed life-saving surgery. Julian's dying grandmother called me back with the funds, forcing a cruel charade with the man who hated me, a man still oblivious to his daughter.

Andrew Hebert, the man who promised to protect me, stood on a stage and announced his engagement to my tormentor. It wasn't just heartbreak; it was a business deal. He was selling me to a creditor to cover his gambling debts. The applause of the powerful families was a death sentence, each clap sealing my fate as collateral. Andrew had paraded me here just to show everyone I was an asset to be liquidated, while his new fiancée smirked at me from the stage. I was trapped, with no money and no one to turn to. The man I loved was leading me to the slaughter. But as I fled into the library, a voice emerged from the shadows, deep and dangerous. Damien Maddox. The Dark Don. The only man Andrew feared. He offered me a different kind of cage, one with the power to burn Andrew's world to the ground. With nothing left to lose, I looked the devil in the eyes. "Take me with you."

I arrived at the Blackwood Pack House as the bride in an arranged marriage, a political pawn meant to secure an alliance with their Alpha, Grayson Wilder. His family treated me like trash from the moment I walked in. His sister then deliberately sent me to the wrong room-the Alpha's private chambers. When Grayson found me in his bed, he didn't ask questions. He shoved me to the floor, his eyes glowing with rage as he accused me of being a social climber trying to trap him. His mother and sister watched from the doorway, their faces alight with triumph, ready to see me torn apart. They had no idea I was there to save them, a secret deal made with the elders to prevent their pack from collapsing. I was the one with the power, hiding my true identity for their sake, yet they treated me like a stray dog who had wandered into their pristine home. But when he truly looked at me, his rage faltered, replaced by shocked recognition. He saw a ghost from a past he couldn't remember. And I knew this war wasn't just for my survival, but for a truth he was terrified to face.

Emily, was a just simple girl living a simple life when one day she received a call from the police that changed her entire life. Everything that happened since then was nothing short of a roller-coaster ride. She soon found out that her long-time boyfriend, Jack Newman, was cheating on her with her best friend. As if things weren’t bad enough, she accidentally ended up in Jack’s uncle’s car, where they ended up – doing it. Soon, Emily found herself in a tug-o-war between her ex, Jack and his uncle, Jacob.

In the third year after my heart failure diagnosis, I, Aria Green, watched my Alpha, Luke Perry, generously give away my heart source to his mistress's father. Layla Vale, the mistress, flaunted how perfectly they fit together in bed, how well-behaved their pups were. My heart shattered. Since Luke had betrayed me, I would no longer accept him as my mate. But the heart source that belonged to me, I would take it back. I dialed a communication code that had been sealed away for five years. "I'll return to the Green Pack for the surgery. Come pick me up in a week." But when I truly left, Luke was the one who regretted it.

Before the engagement ceremony began, Bowen Green was nowhere to be found. He merely left me a message. "Rosie had a heart attack. I must go and stay with her. Let Bowen handle today's wedding ceremony for me. It's just a formality anyway." Dressed in my wedding gown, I stared at the photo of him and Rosie Price embracing tenderly in the hospital. My fingernails dug into my palm. At that moment, I didn't show my anger. The door opened, and Brice stepped in, clad in a black suit. He was tall and imposing, with a suppressed darkness swirling in his eyes. I looked up at him, rumored to be cruel, and suddenly smiled. "Brice, do you dare to marry me?" Brice's eyes deepened, locking onto me like a wolf. "Leyla Yates, you're asking for it."

I had been married for three years and never realized that my husband, Erik Hayes, had a mistress he held dear to his heart until I received an anonymous email one day. It contained a video where he and his mistress, Mia Dixon, were making love passionately for the whole night. Afterwards, he said to Mia, "I wish it were you carrying my baby. Just thinking that Doreen is having my baby makes me sick and makes me want to throw up." Later, everything went as he wished, but he lost his mind.

The rain assaulted the glass, mirroring the storm inside me. For three years, I, Vivian Sterling, played the perfect wife to Julian Kensington, draining my life. The antique clock ticked, a reminder of time lost. Then, I found it: a blonde hair on Julian's suit, reeking of Midnight Rose, and a text, ""Candy: You left your cufflinks on my nightstand. I'm already missing you."" My world shattered, revealing his betrayal. This was just the beginning. I exposed Julian's fraud and his family's violent plots, surviving assassination. But their malice stole my past. Then Alexander Vance, my protector, uncovered a terrifying truth: my birth mother was alive, held captive by a shadowy order. My life was a lie, built to shield me from my dangerous bloodline. I found strength and love with Alexander, the man who walked into fire for me. Yet, as I prepared to rescue my mother, a new life stirred within me, a secret threatening to complicate the impending war.

For three years, I was the perfect, invisible wife. My husband, Jaden, called the songs I poured my soul into "trash," then secretly fed them to his pop-star mistress to make her famous. Then one night, after being drugged at a gala, I woke up in a stranger's bed. It wasn't just the betrayal that shattered me; it was the soul-deep certainty that this powerful, dangerous man was my true fated mate. I fled home in a panic, only to find a message on Jaden's phone confirming my worst fears. His mistress, the woman singing my songs on the radio, was pregnant with the baby he'd always told me I was too weak to carry. The nightmare deepened when I learned the identity of the man from the hotel. He was Carter Mcclain, the ruthless Alpha King-and my husband's older brother. He looked at me with eyes that knew my secret, his cruel smirk promising that my life was now a game for his amusement. Jaden had stolen my music, my dream of a family, and my future, leaving me trapped between his betrayal and his terrifying brother. He thought he had broken me, leaving me with nothing. He forgot he left me with the rage that wrote the songs. And I was about to write their final, brutal verse.

Natalie Harrington never expected that less than a year after remarrying, Adrian Brown would cheat on her again. As the design director of Brown Group, she had worked late into the night once again. When she returned home, she saw the servants standing in a row at the foot of the stairs, blocking the way. The moment they spotted her, their faces turned deathly ashen. "Mrs. Brown... why are you back? Didn't Mr. Brown say you'd be working through the night and wouldn't be coming home? I... I'll go upstairs and ask him to come down." As the servant turned and went upstairs, Natalie heard the sounds coming from above. "Ah... that feels so good! Adrian, slow down, I can't take it..." "Go on. Louder. Natalie isn't home anyway. You can scream all you want." "You're so bad... ah!" Seeing Natalie's expressionless face, the servant asked nervously, "Mrs. Brown, I'll go tell Mr. Brown right away that you're back." "No need." Natalie turned and walked toward the dining room, her voice calm. "I'm hungry. Prepare a late-night meal for me." The servants were utterly shocked, not expecting her to remain so composed, unaware that she had already decided to divorce.

After five years of marriage, my husband is always absent on my birthday. No gifts, no blessings. He said, "I've given you the money, buy whatever you want." But he started preparing for Fiona's birthday half a month in advance. He said, "She's different, she only has me." As the sole survivor of a unexpected fire, he has been heartbroken for over a decade. Watching Fiona in Moments holding a cake and kissing his face. I slowly commented. 【Just this useless person, I'm giving him to you.】

On New Year's Eve, Aria Hart watched Julian Lawson come home with an eighteen-year-old model on his arm. Her fingers tightened around the late-stage stomach cancer diagnosis, while he mocked her without even blinking. "If I'm not marrying her, what, you think I should marry you?" Aria had given him ten full years, only to be repaid with the news that Julian was going to marry someone else. This time, she neither argued nor fought. After calling the hospital and agreeing to go abroad for treatment, she quietly disappeared. She thought it would end cleanly there, but after Aria left, Julian completely lost his mind. He ran from his wedding in front of everyone, put all his work on hold, and searched for her across the world. Eventually, he found information about Aria at the hospital. The nurse frowned. "Are you her family member?" Julian nodded urgently. "I'm her husband!" The nurse shook her head. "That's impossible. She said she has no family member. And she isn't here anymore."

The day my life ended began in my flower shop. A man who looked like a storm in a bespoke suit kicked in the door, his Alpha power so strong it felt like gravity doubling. He called me Fiona. He didn't listen when I told him my name was Scarlett. He dragged me to City Hall and forced me to sign a marriage license, making me the bride of Kaelen Blackwell, the most ruthless Alpha in North America. He told me I was a replacement for the woman who'd abandoned him, a coward whose betrayal was killing his grandmother. He hauled me to a gothic manor that felt more like a prison. The heart monitor by his grandmother's bed was already flatlining. "She dies," my new husband growled, "you die with her." My mind screamed. I was a florist engaged to a man I loved. I'd never seen these people before. Why did this monster think I was his runaway bride? Why did my own wolf feel a traitorous pull every time he was near? As the monitor let out one long, final beep, Kaelen's brother began talking about who would take over. The sharks were circling, and I was just another loose end to be cut. But they didn't know my secret. They saw a useless Omega, not the healer. I stepped forward. "I can save her."

My husband, Rodger Hayes, was a renowned chief negotiator, famous for his integrity and firmness within the circle. When my son and I were kidnapped, with three hostages at the scene, the kidnappers agreed to release only one. Among the women and the boy, Rodger should have chosen to save the boy first. Yet, I heard him saying in Spanish fluently, "Release the woman in white." His first love, Jolene Chapman, was freed, while my son, Jacob Hayes, died from a gunfire. Later, Rodger explained the situation flatly. "The kidnappers chose to release Jolene." I cradled Jacob's ashes and smiled sadly. Rodger didn't know that I was fluent in Spanish, as I had been a special forces member. His lies crumbled before me. My phone vibrated, and I confirmed the encrypted message. "Falcon returns to base."

“Drive this woman out!” "Throw this woman into the sea!” When he doesn’t know Debbie Nelson’s true identity, Carlos Hilton cold-shoulders her. “Mr. Hilton, she is your wife,” Carlos’ secretary reminded him. Hearing that, Carlos gives him a cold stare and complained, “why didn’t you tell me earlier?” From then on, Carlos spoils her rotten. Little did everyone expect that they would get a divorce.

To have a child with her husband, who had fertility issues, she agreed to undergo in vitro fertilization. However, she inadvertently discovered that she had been used as a means to have a child by her husband and his mistress. The embryos used in the procedure had been swapped by her husband, replacing them with his sperm and the mistress's egg. Devastated by the betrayal, she decided to go to the hospital to terminate the pregnancy. Yet, the doctor revealed an unexpected twist: due to a nurse's mistake, the child she was carrying was actually hers and that of a stranger. And this stranger turned out to be the mafia leader! Thus began a series of unforeseen complications.

Damien Hayes was a workaholic, and as an illegitimate son who had clawed his way to the top, he seemed to care about nothing but Hayes Realty. For three years of marriage, Lydia Carter had always been waiting for him. She waited during dates, waited on anniversaries, waited for prenatal checkups, and even waited for the surgical abortion. What she finally received was a livestream of Damien throwing an extravagant birthday celebration for another woman. Devastated, she was caught in a chain car accident, convincing Damien that she had died with the wreck. Yet Lydia survived against all odds and unexpectedly became the sole heir of the world's richest man. The moment she set foot back on her homeland, she swore she would make Damien taste a pain sharp enough to pierce the heart.

When they remarried for the fourth time, Blaire Bennett told Evan Everett it was their last chance. If he betrayed her again, she would leave him for good. Evan had sworn absolute loyalty, hand over heart-then turned around and wrapped another woman in his arms. Caught red-handed, he delivered his excuse with practiced ease. "I can't control the split personality. You can't punish me for something the other me did." It was a pathetic lie, and Blaire had believed it three times. Only moments ago, she had heard him admit with her own ears that the so-called split personality was nothing but an act-a convenient cover for cheating. That was when the truth finally tore through her. The pain had carved into Blaire like a blade. She filed for divorce without hesitation. This time, she would not look back.

My world crumbled the day I held my death sentence in my hands. My husband, Sebastian, thought I was strong, a socialite wife who had "everything." He didn't know my body was already betraying me, just like he was. At twenty-five, I was Catherine Vanderbilt, wife to a Manhattan titan, but my body was quietly giving up. A doctor's report confirmed it: critical kidney failure, a terrifying secret whispering through my veins. My marriage, a fragile dance of silence, felt like it was balanced on a knife's edge. When I tried to talk about starting a family, Sebastian dismissed me as greedy, comparing me to his "fragile" ex-girlfriend, Serena. Then, on our anniversary, a panicked call from Serena sent him rushing out, leaving me alone with my pain and the terrifying truth of my failing health. He didn't come home, returning only to give me a diamond bracelet – a golden shackle. He made me sign an NDA, legally binding me to silence as he hired Serena, bringing her into our company. I found them in his office, Serena wearing an identical bracelet, openly flaunting our shared humiliation. During an elevator breakdown, he comforted her panic attack, ignoring my own terror. Later, Serena "accidentally" scalded my hand, and Sebastian rushed to her side, leaving me burned, invisible, and alone. I was dying, yet he saw me as strong, while his ex, whose life he'd "broken," received all his care. How could he be so blind? How could I be so utterly dispensable? After a fleeting night of intimacy, Serena's feigned suicide threat lured him away again. The next morning, my world crashed completely: my entire fashion collection, my soul's work, was stolen and leaked by Serena, using Sebastian's company cloud. As the betrayal hit, a sharp pain tore through my back, blood trickled from my nose, and I collapsed, utterly broken, while my stolen designs blazed across the screens.

My husband, Ethan Vance, glanced at the wrong intake report and thought I was the one dying of late-stage brain cancer. He instinctively stepped back. "The company's about to go public. Cash flow is tight. For the sake of the business, we should stop treatment." I clenched the real diagnosis in my coat pocket, the one with Ethan's name on it, and swallowed the impulse to save him. To force me out with nothing, he cut off my medical payments, transferred 50 million dollars in assets, and even sent our daughter to the Silverpeak Republic as leverage. A month later, at the Meridian Exchange celebration gala, he wrapped an arm around Bella Carrow, his mistress, and sneered at me. "How are you still alive?" The next second, blood gushed from his nose, splattering across Bella's white dress. As he convulsed and collapsed, I curved my lips into a cold smile. "Because the one who's terminally ill is you."

Working during summer vacation, a strange customer threw hot milk tea at me and even damaged the machines in the store. The milk tea shop sided with the customer and even took all of my wages to compensate for the damages. When I went to argue about it, I was crushed into minced meat by a large truck on the way. Opening my eyes again, I found myself back at the moment when the customer threw milk tea at me.

Melanie had been in a secret relationship with her best friend's brother, Ethan, for five years, and finally, he agreed to make it public. Her best friend excitedly called to confirm, "Melanie, I can't believe my brother's sweetheart is you..." Just as she was about to nod, she heard her friend say, "Half-sister? I thought he would like you." That single sentence hit Melanie like a ton of bricks. In a frenzy, she rushed to the company to confront Ethan for clarification. Unexpectedly, she overheard him confessing his deep feelings to his half-sister. "Rosalyn, you're the only one I love," he declared. "Marrying her was just to protect you. Keeping her nearby ensures she won't dig into her mother's accident and won't harm you!" Upon discovering the truth, Melanie decided to accept the marriage to turn the tables on him. However, after obtaining the marriage certificate, she realized she might have married the wrong person... Before she could regret it, Ethan's rival, swept her into his arms. "You think you can just up and leave after tying the knot?"

During a snow-mountain expedition, an avalanche buried me alive. By the time they dug me out, the cold had already drained every last trace of warmth and life from my body. Julian Crowe dug through the snow with his bare hands for ten straight hours. His fingers were torn and bleeding by the time he finally pulled me out. Then he chartered a private jet and rushed me to the most elite private hospital for emergency treatment. Inside the thermal recovery chamber, a faint thread of consciousness returned to me. Through the haze, I heard Julian arguing with the doctor. "Weren't we supposed to amputate just to save her life? Why are you draining all of her hematopoietic stem cells too? Mr. Crowe, you're personally destroying her last chance of survival!" Julian's voice, usually so controlled, carried a chilling cruelty. "Letting her live safely and comfortably until today is already the greatest mercy I've ever shown her. The only woman who will grow old with me is Serena Vale. And the only thing that can save Serena is her life. She owes Serena that much, and now it's time to repay it." So the promise to live and die together had only been my own foolish fantasy. Julian had married me, Stella Hart, for one reason only. To turn me into a walking blood bank for his precious mistress. If that was the truth, then I would give them exactly what they wanted.

I helped Erick's beloved escape to Whyae. That very night, he kidnapped my parents, holding their lives hostage to find her. Erick pressed a button on the remote, and the screen showed my parents separately tied up and suspended from a plane. "Crack!" At Erick's command, a bodyguard fired a shot at the rope, and I could see the rope was about to snap.

Within the elite social circles of Bexwell, one topic never ceased to captivate everyone: the arranged marriage from childhood between Brad Simpson, the playful scion of the Simpson family, and Bella Shaw, the most well-mannered daughter of the Shaw family. Bella learned to play the piano from a young age and was selected into the national classical dance troupe at ten. She was groomed to become the most elegant young lady. On the other hand, Brad started racing cars, wingsuit flying, and skydiving without a license by the age of fifteen. He had landed himself in the hospital countless times due to his thrill-seeking, extreme sports antics. Brad and Bella had totally different personalities, but they were forced to grow up as childhood companions due to the friendship between the Simpson and Shaw families. Although they had their clashing temperaments, they had been close to each other for over twenty years. In others' eyes, they were seen as a unique match made in heaven. Since they were kids, their family members always teased them. Bella always believed that she would marry Brad. So, on the day of their sixth anniversary, when Bella saw the wordless photo Brad posted on his social media, her mind went blank for a moment. In the photo, the woman's face was not visible, but her strapless dress revealed an impressive cleavage. The most eye-catching detail was the striking tattoo on her left chest-Drunk. Drunk was Brad's nickname.

At the proposal ceremony, my husband, Ethan Carrington's so-called true love, Chloe Langley, showed up uninvited, her pregnant belly on full display as she crashed the event. I, Nora Whitmore, didn't argue. I didn't make a scene. I simply took off the engagement ring and returned it in silence. In my previous life, I had desperately forced him to drive Chloe away, which led to her getting into a car accident and losing the baby. Five years into our marriage, I finally became pregnant. But when I was about to give birth, Ethan personally pulled the life-support equipment from my bedside. With a cold laugh, he told me the child in my womb was nothing more than a bastard he had arranged with some street thug, just to get revenge on me. "You owe her this. Today you'll pay it back, along with that bastard child." I fought back with the last strength I had left and drove a shard of broken glass straight into his throat. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the proposal ceremony. To hell with love. This time, I would take control of the company myself and make sure they lost everything.

For three years, I lived a lie as Ava Cole, wife to Ethan, whose devotion was reserved not for me, but his college sweetheart, Chloe Vance. I meticulously tracked his escalating betrayals in my secret "Breaking Point Ledger," knowing 100 points meant freedom. The ledger filled quickly, fueled by his unapologetic neglect and public displays of obsession. Then, disaster struck: caught in a violent car crash, I lay bleeding, my world shattering around me. Doctors, grim-faced, revealed I was eight weeks pregnant, desperately needing help. But when the hospital reached Ethan, his urgent command echoed chillingly: prioritize Chloe, who had a mere allergic reaction. My baby, our baby, was lost. "We couldn't save the baby," the nurse later confirmed, her voice laced with a silent fury that mirrored my own. The ledger, once a quiet tally, now screamed past its limit, leaving a brutal, undeniable score of his final, ultimate betrayal. There was no going back; only forward. With a soul-deep resolve, I signed my divorce papers, reclaiming Ava Miller and leaving behind the shattered remnants of a life that was never truly mine. My bags were already packed for Austin, ready for a new chapter where I would rebuild, reclaim, and rise from the ashes.

After her eleventh miscarriage, Clara Fulton became pregnant again. To protect the pregnancy, she lay in a hospital bed day after day, enduring injection after injection, waiting for the special drug meant to save her child. Then she discovered the truth. Her husband of eight years, Ethan Grayson, had already given that one dose of the special drug to his newly pregnant mistress. Clara wiped the tears from her face and made a ruthless decision, ending the pregnancy she had fought so desperately to keep. She no longer wanted a man who wavered between women. But anyone who betrayed sincerity would have to pay a price. She took out a phone she had never once used and dialed the only number saved on it. "You wanted me to acknowledge you as my father, didn't you? Come pick me up in a week. I'll take your seat." She had no idea that after she left, Ethan would kneel before every god he could think of, praying for nothing but her return.

For my entire life, I believed my Alpha, Kaelen, was my fated mate. A sacred gift from the Moon Goddess. But on the eve of my eighteenth birthday, he presented another she-wolf, Seraphina, as his chosen Luna, using a borrowed pup in a cruel plot to crush my spirit. When Rogues attacked our pack, a silver chandelier fell towards us. Kaelen lunged past me without a glance, shielding Seraphina with his own body while I was left to be crushed. He never even looked back. Later, after falsely accusing me of hurting her, he dragged my injured body to an ice-cold hydrotherapy pool and shoved me under the water. As I struggled to breathe, he loomed over me, his voice a roar of command. "If you ever touch her again, I will strip you of your name and make you Rogue." Watching the man I loved try to kill me, the last of my hope finally turned to ash. That night, I accepted an offer to join the Silverwood Pack. Then, I walked to the forge and tossed every memento he'd ever given me into the flames, watching the girl who loved him burn away forever.

After seven years in a dungeon for a crime I didn't commit, my fated mate, the Alpha who let them drag me away, finally opened my cell door. He announced I would take my place as his Luna, not out of love, but because the law demanded it. But the moment a frantic mind-link came through that his precious Seraphina-my adopted sister, the one who framed me-was having trouble breathing, he abandoned me without a second glance. That night, huddled in a dusty shack, I overheard my own parents' secret conversation. They were planning to have me exiled. Permanently. My return had upset Seraphina, and her "weak heart" couldn't take the shock. I lay there in the darkness, feeling nothing. Not surprise. Not even pain. Just a profound, empty coldness. They were casting me out. Again. But as they plotted my exile, a secret message arrived for me-an offer of escape. A new life in a sanctuary far to the north, where I could leave the Blackmoon Pack behind forever. They thought they were getting rid of me. Little did they know, I was already gone.