Author: Momo Chan

My Alpha mate, Kayden, promised he would only visit his unstable childhood sweetheart, Clara, ninety-nine times. But when I had finally placed the ninety-ninth bean in the jar, I saw him holding Clara in a tight embrace. I stopped crying and begging him not to go to her after that. I simply asked him for a guardian sigil for a wolf pup, a gift for our coming child. The mention of our child softened his expression. “Wait for me to get back. I’ll go with you to the pack infirmary for the prenatal check-up.” I obediently hummed in agreement. I didn’t tell him that ten days ago, I had already submitted an application to the Pack Elders to sever our mate bond. According to the laws of the pack, we were no longer mates. … Ten days after submitting my application, I ran into Kayden in the hallway of the pack infirmary. He was carefully supporting Clara, treating her like a rare treasure. But the moment he saw me, Kayden’s brow furrowed. “What are you doing here? Are you trying to cause trouble for Clara again?” He watched me with a guarded look, the chill in his eyes piercing my heart. Clara clung to Kayden’s arm and looked at me apologetically. “Ava, don’t misunderstand. Kayden is just worried about me.” Then, her eyes drifted down to my stomach. “I heard you were admitted to the infirmary too. Is the baby okay?” Before I could answer, Kayden rushed to comfort her. “It’s probably just emotional stress affecting the pregnancy. It’ll be fine.” “Don’t overthink it. The most important thing is for you to take care of yourself.” I subconsciously touched my belly, a bitter taste filling my mouth. Right, how could anything be wrong? It’s just that our little pup… was already gone. How could that possibly be more important than Clara’s health? Otherwise, why wouldn’t Kayden have visited me even once, despite knowing I was in the very same infirmary? If he had just bothered to look in on my room, even for a moment, he would have known. Our child, the one destined to inherit the Alpha title, was gone. I forced a smile and my hand found the glass jar in my pocket, warmed by my body heat. Ever since Clara returned, Kayden would disappear every few days to be with her. He said: “Clara has always been sensitive, and now her mental state is fragile. If I’m not with her, what if she hurts herself?” “Don’t worry, I just don’t want her to do something stupid. I don’t have any other feelings for her.” He promised me he would only stay with Clara ninety-nine times. After the ninety-ninth time, he would return to our family for good, fulfilling his duties as my Alpha mate. So every time he left, I would place a single bean in a glass jar. Seven days ago, I finally put in the ninety-ninth bean. But when I went to find him, full of hope, I saw Kayden holding Clara tightly in his arms. I was his Luna, his wife. Yet in that moment, I could only stand on the street corner, a spectator to his tender moment with another woman. “What are you two doing?” I walked toward them, my eyes red, my voice trembling with heartbreak. Kayden released Clara as if he’d been shocked, his eyes filled with panic. “Ava, don’t misunderstand. It’s not what you think.” I opened my mouth, but before I could speak, Clara cut in. “It’s all my fault. I’m bothering you two, I’m so sorry.” “Kayden, just leave me alone from now on. Let me just go die somewhere.” With that, she darted into the street and was clipped by a speeding pickup truck. Kayden’s face went pale. He violently shoved me aside and rushed to cradle Clara in his arms. I didn’t have time to react. The force of his push sent me crashing to the ground. A sharp, dull pain shot through my abdomen. I reached down with a trembling hand and it came back covered in sticky, red blood. “My baby… my baby… my pup…” “Kayden, my Alpha!” I clutched my stomach, desperately calling his name, praying he would just look back at me. Kayden paused for a second and turned his head, but his eyes were filled with hatred. “Ava! You know Clara is unstable, so why would you provoke her!” “If anything happens to Clara, I will never forgive you!” “Let this be a lesson to you. Stay the hell away from her from now on!” Then, he lifted Clara into his Ford SUV and sped away. In the end, it was a kind stranger who couldn’t bear to watch any longer who took me to the hospital. The doctor told me I had lost the baby. Lying in that hospital bed, replaying the image of Kayden leaving me, my vision blurred with tears. Kayden Blackwood, I promise you. From this day on, I will never go near you again. You are free. My thoughts returned to the present. Kayden seemed oblivious to my pale face, simply reminding me in a flat tone: “If there’s nothing else, go back to your room. As a member of this pack, be considerate and don’t take up unnecessary medical resources.” I nodded. “Okay.” Kayden continued, “I have to stay with Clara for the next few days. Don’t come looking for me unless it’s an emergency.” I nodded again. “Okay.” Perhaps my calm reaction was too much for him, because Kayden actually paused.

He let go of Clara and took two steps toward me. “Are you… feeling okay?” “Once Clara’s emotions have stabilized, I’ll schedule a proper prenatal check-up for you.” I just grunted in response, pretending not to see the venomous glare Clara shot my way. As I walked past him, I caught his scent. A faint fragrance of wild jasmine. It was the essential oil Clara always used. Kayden must have held Clara in his arms quite a lot during these days in the infirmary. Otherwise, how could this scent that wasn’t mine have soaked so deeply into his clothes and skin? When I got home, my next-door neighbor, Maria, was just heading out. She jumped when she saw how pale I was. “Oh heavens, Ava, why do you look so pale?” “Did something happen? Your scent… it’s filled with sorrow.” I managed a weak smile, but my eyes welled up with tears. So, I really did look that awful. So, other people could see that something was wrong with me. But my Alpha, my mate, how could he be so blind? It had been seven days. Even a single word of concern… would have been enough. Seeing that I wasn’t talking, Maria didn’t press further. She just gently helped me inside and sat me down. That evening, Maria brought over a large bowl of rich beef stew. “Ava, you’re already frail, and now you’re carrying a pup. You need to build up your strength.” Maria’s husband was the captain of the pack’s sentinels. With many children, their family wasn’t wealthy. This stew was a precious gift from them. After thanking Maria, I sat at the dining table, lost in thought for a long time. I couldn’t understand. Why could an ordinary pack member show me such kindness, while my own husband, the Alpha of our pack, could cast me aside again and again? This union, witnessed by the Moon Goddess herself, felt like a joke. With a sigh, I carefully lifted the bowl to my lips. Just as I was about to take a sip, the courtyard gate was pushed open. “Ava, I’m back.” Kayden walked in, carrying a few changes of clothes. I looked at him, surprised. “Why are you back? Don’t you need to be with Clara?” Kayden set the clothes down and replied casually, “The doctor said Clara’s condition has stabilized, but I’m still worried. I’m having her stay a few more days for observation.” “So, I came back to grab some essentials.” I hummed in acknowledgment, but I couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d said that morning. “Be considerate and don’t take up unnecessary medical resources.” It seemed that when it came to Clara, all the rules were different. I think my heart had truly died, because I didn’t even have the energy to argue. I lowered my eyes, about to drink my soup, when Kayden, who had finished packing, suddenly spoke up. “Did you make beef stew?” “Don’t drink it yet. Clara is weak, this will be perfect for her recovery.” My hand froze, the bowl still in my grasp. I stared at him, stunned. “Maria made this specifically for me.” Kayden acted as if he hadn’t heard me, already pulling a thermos from the cabinet. “I know your body. It doesn’t matter if you drink this or not.” “Let Clara have it this time. Next time, I’ll take you to the best restaurant in town.” Those familiar words brought back a flood of memories. “Ava, I’m giving the first choice at the Hunting Festival to Clara this time. I’ll make it up to you next time.” “Ava, don’t go to the Moonlight Gala. Give your spot to Clara. I’ll invite you to the next event.” “Ava, Clara wants to meet my inner circle. You should skip the Beta and Gamma gathering this time. I’ll bring you next time.” “Ava…” So many next times. So many I couldn’t even count them all. While I was lost in my daze, Kayden had already poured the beef stew into the thermos. He offered a dismissive word of concern. “I’m heading out. Take care of yourself at home.” He turned to leave, and the corner of his jacket brushed against the soup bowl on the table. CRASH! The bowl hit the floor, shattering into pieces, just like my heart. “Kayden.” I called out to him and pulled the glass jar with the ninety-nine beans from my pocket. “Ninety-nine beans. Count them.” Kayden’s back went rigid. He turned around, his face a mask of shock. “Is it… really time?” I nodded. “It is.” Kayden set down the thermos, his expression troubled. I didn’t say a word, just quietly waited for his answer. It was just as I expected. After only a moment’s hesitation, Kayden spoke. “Ava, Clara can’t be left alone right now…” A flicker of guilt crossed his eyes, but he continued anyway. “Our promise… let’s just call it off.” I lowered my gaze and let out a soft sigh. “Okay.” Kayden was stunned. He couldn’t believe I had agreed so easily. He rushed over and hugged me. “Ava, you’re so understanding.” “Don’t worry, as soon as Clara is fully recovered, I promise I’ll spend all my time with you.” I just hummed, and made a single request. “Our child will be born soon. I want a guardian sigil.” At the mention of the child, Kayden’s expression softened even more.

Watch👉 https://cps-front.novelix.live/app-api/ext/new/20260619bBJXSE6IaM 🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “Novelix” app 🔍 search for “ni268116”, and watch the full series ✨! #Novelix

My husband’s best friend’s widow posted an ultrasound photo on Instagram. “Thank you for your sperm. You gave me a baby of my own. ❤️ #BarrettBaby” She didn’t tag anyone. But in the corner of the photo, on the sonogram printout, the partner information line read: Preston Barrett. I dropped a question mark in the comments. Less than thirty seconds later, his call blew up my phone. “What the hell were you thinking, leaving a comment like that on a public post?” “She’s a widow, Audrey. She lives alone. All she wants is a baby. Can’t you have a little empathy?” “Evan was my brother. He’s gone, so taking care of Ronnie is the right thing to do. It’s called loyalty. Do you even understand that?” A week later, that woman posted a SoHo loft—exposed brick walls, twelve-foot ceilings, floor-to-ceiling windows framing the city skyline. “Thank you for turning this house into a home.” In the photo, Preston stood at the kitchen island, pouring red wine. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, showing off the Patek Philippe I gave him as an anniversary gift. I figured this marriage needed to end too. … When Preston came home, I was sitting on the edge of the bed, holding a pregnancy test. Two lines. Eight weeks. We’d been married for five years. I was finally pregnant. I should’ve been ecstatic. I should’ve run out and thrown my arms around him, told him we were finally having a baby of our own. But I just tucked the test into the nightstand drawer, picked up my phone, and booked an OB-GYN appointment for the next day. Preston set a brown paper bag on the marble countertop and walked over to kiss my forehead. “I brought you lobster bisque from Le Bernardin.” I glanced at the container inside. The soup had separated, a thin layer of oil floating on top. I didn’t reach for it. “I’m not hungry.” He poured the bisque into a bowl anyway and brought it over to me. “Come on. You always love this.” The cold lobster bisque smelled fishy. My stomach lurched, and I ran to the bathroom and threw up. He followed me in and tried to rub my back. I smacked his hand away. “Don’t touch me.” That finally set him off. “What do you want from me? I’m trying to make it right. Isn’t that enough?” “I didn’t even give you a hard time about that Instagram comment, and you’re still not letting this go?” He looked completely self-righteous, like I was the one in the wrong. I looked at him, my voice shaking. “So you think I should be congratulating the woman carrying my husband’s child?” Preston yanked off his tie, his tone irritated. “Evan is dead. Ronnie wanted a baby to fill the void in her life. What’s wrong with that? I was Evan’s best friend. It was my responsibility to help her have that baby.” “And we never slept together. We did it through a fertility clinic—artificial insemination. Do you really have to make such a huge deal out of this?” “Right now, you’re being absolutely—” “Absolutely what?” “Unreasonable.” Unreasonable. When Evan first passed, I felt for Ronnie too. She became a widow at twenty-five. I used to invite her over for dinner all the time. When the power went out in her apartment, Preston and I both went over to help. Back then, Ronnie would say with red-rimmed eyes that if only Evan were still here, she wouldn’t have to trouble us. I’d tell her it was no trouble. That’s what friends are for. Preston would thump his chest and promise her she could call him anytime she needed anything. I thought he was just keeping a promise to his dead brother. Later, things started to shift. Without me knowing, Preston would go alone to help her haul Costco runs, go to her place to assemble Wayfair furniture, even drive over himself with burn cream when she burned her finger on the oven. Things he’d never once done for me without being asked. It didn’t sit right with me. Preston said he was just keeping his promise to Evan. I couldn’t argue with that. But I never imagined he’d “help” with something like this—having a baby. Did he ever stop to think that the child would call him Daddy and call Ronnie Mommy? What would that make me, his legal wife? What would it make the baby growing inside me? Preston got everything off his chest and finished with— “Think about it.” Then he slammed the door and left. At this hour, I knew exactly where he was headed. Sure enough, not long after, Ronnie updated her Instagram. In the photo, Preston’s hand rested on her belly. Caption: Baby daddy’s staying with us tonight. He says it finally feels like home here. ❤️ I looked at that photo and placed my hand on my own stomach. This baby—I hadn’t had the chance to tell him yet. And now, I didn’t see the point anymore.

Early the next morning, I went to that medical building on the Upper East Side. Dr. Carter’s practice was on the sixth floor. I had scheduled an ultrasound to confirm how far along I was and check on the baby. When the elevator doors opened, I saw Preston carefully guiding Ronnie toward me from the other end of the hallway. They sat down on a bench. Ronnie pointed at her ultrasound picture, saying something. Preston listened intently, jotting notes on his phone every so often. Without thinking, I rested my hand on my stomach. A sharp ache burned behind my eyes. I didn’t need this. I was about to turn around and take the stairs when Preston looked up and spotted me. His brows furrowed. “Are you following me?” Before I could say a word, Ronnie tugged at his sleeve, her voice anxious. “Preston, Audrey’s got the wrong idea, hasn’t she? Let me go explain. I don’t want this to cause problems between you two.” She made a move to stand up. Preston immediately pressed her back down into the chair. “You’re pregnant. Don’t get up. I’ll deal with this.” I had zero interest in that little performance and turned to leave. Preston grabbed my wrist so hard I nearly lost my balance. I steadied myself and looked up at his furious face. “Audrey, I made myself perfectly clear last night. How are you still not over this? And now you’re following me here?” I yanked my hand free. A red mark was already blooming around my wrist. “I don’t have time to follow you. I have a doctor’s appointment too.” He clearly didn’t believe me. “What’s your appointment for? Are you sick?” Ronnie suddenly stepped forward, tears brimming in her eyes, and grabbed my hand. “Audrey, after Evan died, I was so lonely. I just wanted a baby to keep me company. I’ve never once tried to come between you and Preston.” If all she really wanted was a baby, she could’ve gone to a sperm bank. There are hundreds of them in this country. But she picked Preston. I didn’t say anything. I just pulled my hand back. The next second, Ronnie clutched her forehead and started to collapse backward. “Preston… I think I’m going to faint…” Preston caught her, his face going pale. “Ronnie!” He whipped his head toward me, eyes blazing. “She’s pregnant, damn it! How could you push her?” I looked at them coldly. “I didn’t push her.” That only made him angrier. “I saw it with my own eyes, and you’re still lying? Thank god I caught her. If anything happened to her—” “I would never forgive you.” He wrapped his arm around Ronnie and walked away. I watched Preston’s back as he hovered protectively over her, and my hand instinctively moved to my own stomach. My baby. The baby we’d waited five years for. And his father was walking away with another pregnant woman in his arms. I took a deep breath and walked into the OB-GYN’s office. The doctor confirmed how far along I was and prescribed prenatal vitamins. I put the bottle in my bag and left the medical building. This baby—I decided to keep it. No matter what Preston chose, this baby was mine.

Preston didn’t come home for the next few days. I didn’t call to ask where he was. I booked a consultation with a divorce attorney and started going through my own financial records. The next time I saw Preston was on Ronnie’s Instagram. The man who never liked taking pictures together was wearing reindeer antlers, posing with Ronnie for maternity photos. Their hands layered on her belly, gazing at each other adoringly—looking exactly like a couple eagerly awaiting a new arrival. This time, I liked the photo. A few hours later, Preston called. He told me to come to his parents’ place for dinner that evening. By the time I arrived at the Barrett family townhouse on the Upper East Side—one of those old homes with stone steps and wrought-iron railings, with a doorman who’d never once smiled at me—someone else was already sitting in my seat at the dinner table. Ronnie. Patricia Barrett’s hand was resting on top of Ronnie’s. That woman, who hadn’t cracked a smile at me in five years, now had laugh lines crinkling the corners of her eyes. She’d never accepted me from the start. Preston marrying a girl from a middle-class family was, in her eyes, a downgrade for the Barrett name. Five years without a pregnancy just gave her a more legitimate reason to despise me. Ronnie saw me and flashed an apologetic smile. “Audrey, once Patricia found out about the pregnancy, she insisted I stay at the Hamptons house so she could look after me. Please don’t overthink it.” I ignored her, pulled out a chair off to the side, and sat down. Patricia Barrett barely glanced at me. Her hand still rested on Ronnie’s, her tone icy. “Five years, Audrey.” “Some women just aren’t meant to be mothers.” “And poor Ronnie—her husband gone, all alone in the world. Thank goodness Preston’s been taking care of her.” “Now she’s carrying the Barrett heir. I’m taking her to the Hamptons to stay. I assume you have no objections.” Her tone was a question. Her eyes were a notification. I nodded. “No objection.”

Watch👉 https://cps-front.novelix.live/app-api/ext/new/20260619zr4vWjL1fQ 🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “Novelix” app 🔍 search for “ni870559”, and watch the full series ✨! #Novelix

He asked me to donate my bone marrow to a core member of the family. I looked into his cold eyes and agreed without a second thought. It was my duty as the matriarch of the Moretti family. A year later, I was pregnant. He asked me again, because Isabella’s condition had returned. For the first time, I refused him. For my child. But he drugged my dinner. When I woke up in the family’s private clinic, my belly was empty, and my marrow had been taken. I turned over, dialed the number I swore I’d never call, and gave myself—and every secret I knew—to the federal government. He searched for me like a madman. “Catherine, where are you? We can have another child, I promise!” But behind the FBI’s firewall, no one heard his cries. … “Catherine, once you join the Eagle Project, you will be completely cut off from your past for at least ten years. Are you sure?” the FBI agent asked, his face grim. I smoothed the wrinkles on my clothes and said calmly, “I’m sure. I will dedicate the rest of my life to justice, with no regrets.” I did have one regret, but it didn’t matter anymore. The agent gave me a long, meaningful look and nodded. “This is a classified operation. We will erase all your records and create a new identity for you. Do you have any other requests?” The agent must have been wondering why the wife of a powerful family, who should have been living in luxury, would choose such a final path. No one ever expected I would turn myself over to the family’s greatest enemy. My face was blank, my gaze steady. “No requests. I will follow all arrangements.” In this city shrouded in shadows, justice needed me more than that man ever did. The agent stood up and shook my hand. “Catherine, thank you for your contribution to justice. Welcome to your new life.” As the top financial genius of our allied family, I married into the Moretti family in my prime, stepping back to manage their vast, dark empire from behind the scenes. Now, I had applied to become the blade that would destroy that empire, and the FBI had, against all odds, agreed. Only seven days left. In seven days, I would leave for a small, unknown town under a new name.

“Catherine, are you done? I’m waiting in the garage.” The text was from Leo. We hadn’t seen each other in a month. Ever since I woke up on that operating table in the private clinic and found my baby was gone, he had vanished, claiming he was “handling business on the West Coast.” His parents, the patriarch Carlo and his wife, had never liked me from the start. Our marriage was arranged by the previous Don to repay a favor. My family needed the Morettis’ protection, and the Morettis needed my family’s financial skills. My grandfather had seen something in Leo’s ruthless ambition, thinking he would be a capable ruler who wouldn’t hurt me emotionally—because he had no emotions to begin with. But my grandfather was wrong. They didn’t just dislike me; they treated me like a complete outsider. Leo hadn’t realized that I was no longer the compliant Catherine he knew. It was normal for him not to contact me for a month. Today was his mother’s birthday. I knew why he was here. To play the part of a loving couple in front of all the family members and allies. Even though I never fit in, I figured I could endure their fake compliments and judging stares one last time. In seven days, I’d be gone forever. I walked out into the underground parking garage of the Moretti Tower. Leo’s black, armored sedan was parked silently. He leaned against it, tall and imposing, his tailored suit radiating power and danger. He had a chiseled face and eyes that held no emotion. There was a time I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him. I had to admit, that man had carved a deep mark into my heart. “I’m done.” His voice was calm, as if the child he personally destroyed had never existed. He didn’t even offer a single “I’m sorry.” I ignored him and reached for the passenger door. A delicate doll was lying on the seat, as if claiming its territory. How ironic. A cold sneer touched my lips. I slammed the door shut, walked around, and got into the back. I knew whose doll it was. Isabella’s. For her, he had personally snuffed out the life of our first child. I lost my baby, and my heart was hollowed out. And now, a doll was here to remind me of my failure? I stared out the window, my eyes instantly welling up as I saw a mother on the street holding her daughter’s hand. “How have you… been feeling?” I snapped back to the present and answered coldly, “Fine.” It had been exactly one month since I “lost the baby.” I hadn’t taken a single day off. Work was the only thing that could numb the pain, pulling me away from my grief, even if just for a moment. Leo glanced at me several times in the rearview mirror. “Don’t drink anything cold. Get some rest. The baby… we can have another one.” A wave of nausea washed over me. He was pretending to care about me? Our relationship had always been like a cold business contract, except for that one time. He had told me to give up the baby and donate my marrow to Isabella again. For the first time, I had screamed at him. For the first time, I had lost my mind. “I… was in the West Coast for a month dealing with some difficult business. That’s why I was so busy.” He was explaining himself. But I didn’t want to hear it anymore. Before, I would have played along with these meaningless conversations. But today, I just wanted to watch the world outside the window. After all, in a few days, I would be saying goodbye to it all forever.

I still remember that day. I felt dizzy while working on the accounts in my office. My personal assistant suggested I see a doctor. The ultrasound showed I was two months pregnant. The baby already had a tiny, flickering heartbeat, like a precious gem. That day, I was ecstatic. When I got back from the clinic, I had the chef prepare a lavish dinner, ready to share the wonderful news with him. He came back from a family meeting looking grave. Before I could even speak, he placed Isabella’s latest medical report in front of me. “Catherine, Isabella has relapsed. It’s critical. She needs a bone marrow transplant immediately. You’re coming with me to the clinic tomorrow.” He said it so matter-of-factly. In our year of marriage, he had never called me “darling.” On the rare occasions he used my name, it was always my full name. But he called her “Isabella.” Before, I had always done what he said. When I donated my marrow to Isabella a year ago, he lied and told me she was a “crucially important ally to the family.” I agreed. This time, I wanted to fight for my child. I refused him firmly. “I won’t do it again.” “I’m pregnant! I’m going to have this baby. He’s the heir to the Moretti family.” Leo fell silent. He looked down, and I could have sworn I saw his eyes turn red. After a long moment, he looked up, his voice like ice. “The family can have other heirs. But the Moretti family owes Isabella her life, and she only has one.” Tears streamed down my face. In his eyes, my child, the future heir to his family, was worth less than a symbol of honor? Her life was a life, but my child’s wasn’t? My maternal instincts made me stand my ground. I slammed the door and went to our bedroom, pulling the covers over my head. I thought he would back down for the sake of the child, that he would look for another donor. I never imagined he would put drugs in my water. I woke up thirsty in the middle of the night and drank from the glass on my bedside table. The world started spinning. When I came to, I was lying in a hospital bed at the clinic. An IV was stuck in my hand. Sharp pains shot through my abdomen and lower back. Oh, God, no! I instinctively reached for my belly, ignoring the searing pain in my back. A terrible feeling seized me. My baby! Mommy couldn’t protect you! He walked in, dressed in black, looking like an envoy from hell. My marrow had been extracted. The baby was gone. In that moment, a desperate wail tore from my throat, and my heart shattered into a million pieces.

Watch👉 https://cps-front.novelix.live/app-api/ext/new/20260619C4VYYXgZfg 🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “Novelix” app 🔍 search for “ni108816”, and watch the full series ✨! #Novelix

My fiancé and I are at the County Clerk’s office to sign our marriage license — and he rips the application out of my hands and shoves my best friend up to the counter in my place. “Chloe goes first. She’s pregnant — the baby needs his father’s name on the birth certificate. A Sinclair heir doesn’t come into this world without that.” “Besides, you two are best friends, right? What difference does it make who I marry?” Chloe leans into his chest, blushing. He hands the clerk a new application — her name already printed where mine should be. They show their IDs. They sign. The clerk processes it without blinking. Done. Just like that. Nate finally remembers I exist. Reaches over and ruffles my hair like I’m a dog that behaved well. “Relax. You’re still Mrs. Sinclair to everyone who matters. Once she has the baby, we’ll tell people it’s yours. Saves you the trouble of getting pregnant yourself.” “I’d never embarrass you in front of people. You know that.” He thinks I’ll crumble like I always do. Cry. Beg him not to leave. But I just smile, turn around, and grab his older brother by the arm. “Hayden. Our turn.” I slap my ID down on the counter. “You two are brothers, right? Same last name. So what’s the difference who I marry?” The entire office goes dead silent. “Wren, have you lost your fucking mind?” Nate’s laughing so hard his eyes are watering. “Do you even know who he is? That’s Hayden. My brother. You think he’d actually marry you?” Chloe peeks out from his chest, voice dripping with fake concern. “Wren, sweetie, I know you’re hurting, but don’t throw yourself at someone like that. Hayden is the Sinclair heir. You’re embarrassing yourself.” People in the waiting area start whispering. Someone mutters — “Couldn’t lock down the little brother so she’s going after the big one. The Carter girl has no shame.” I tune all of it out. I look at Hayden. His eyes are so dark I can’t see the bottom. Three years ago, the first time I went to the Sinclair house, I crashed into him in the hallway. I looked up, flustered, and the way he looked at me — it wasn’t innocent. But his lashes dropped and it was gone. After that, Hayden helped me a few times without being asked. Once I blacked out drinking alone at a bar and woke up in his guest room. When I was drowning in a deal that wouldn’t close, he stepped in and handled it. Quietly. Never said a word. I force it out. “Would you?” “I hold eighty percent of Carter Industries. Plus every joint venture between our families. Marry me, and it’s all yours.” Nate’s voice goes tight. “Hayden — don’t. She’s lost it.” Hayden looks away from me. “Too rushed.” Then he turns and walks out. Doesn’t look back. Leaves me standing there like an idiot. Nate strides over and ruffles my hair again — rough this time, like he’s handling a misbehaving pet. “That was a polite rejection, babe. You really thought he’d want you?” “Wren, you’ve been my pathetic little simp for years. Everyone in this city knows you can’t function without me.” His words crack something open. I think about right after college. He told me — behind his family’s back — he wanted to start a company. I sold my condo on Park Avenue. Wired him every penny. No contract. No equity stake. No IOU. Just blind, stupid love. He took that money and built himself a name. When his Series B fell apart and the key investor wouldn’t sign, I set up a dinner under the Carter Industries name. Drank until I was vomiting blood in the bathroom. The guy finally came around. The night Nate closed the round, he’d had a few drinks. He pinned me against the wall and kissed me until my mouth went numb. His chin dug into my shoulder, voice low and ragged — “Wren, why are you so good to me?” I was just grateful I could help. Everyone knew. People in our circle smiled to my face — Wren Carter, so loyal, so devoted — then called me a fool the second I turned around. My mom screamed at me about it a hundred times. Cried and said, “Your father’s reputation — everything he’s built — you’re dragging it through the mud.” I told her love wasn’t something to be ashamed of. But hearing him call me his simp — I realize I’ve been the punchline this whole time. Nate watches my face crumble. He sighs, almost fond, like he can see every pathetic memory flickering behind my eyes. His thumb brushes my cheek. That’s when I realize I’m crying. “Don’t cry. People are gonna think I’m some kind of monster.” He exhales. Those pretty-boy eyes go almost sincere. “Wren, you’ve been so good to me. I genuinely don’t want to hurt you.” “So be smart about this. I don’t want to embarrass you, and I don’t want your parents to lose face. You get what I’m saying, right?” Nate is like cheap whiskey. The first sip burns so bad you cry. But you keep drinking, and you keep drinking, until you’re so wasted you don’t even know you’re dying. He pulls out a wedding band and presses it into my palm. Then a printed photo — me and him, photoshopped in wedding attire. Names, date, a fake official seal in the corner. It looks almost real. “Show this to your parents. Tell them we eloped. Clean. Simple. No drama.”

But I spot it the second I look down. In the photo, just below the bride’s collarbone — a small mole. That’s Chloe. He grabbed some random picture of himself and Chloe, slapped my face on it, and didn’t even bother getting the details right. Couldn’t even be bothered to fake it properly. Chloe nestles into his chest, putting on her generous-saint act. “Nate was worried you’d feel embarrassed, so he had this made for you. Show it to your parents — they’ll never know. And don’t worry, sweetie — the wedding in three days is still all yours. I would never steal your spotlight.” I grip the photo so hard my fingertips go white. “Nate. You don’t think my dad will notice?” His tone is breezy. Certain. “You’ve always been great at performing for your father. Twenty-something years of playing the perfect daughter — what’s one more time?” I bite down on my lip. The words pile up in my throat. Every lie I’ve ever told my family was to cover for him. But before I can get any of it out — A cough behind me. Chloe clutches her stomach, looking fragile and pained. “I’ll come see you tonight.” Nate tosses the words over his shoulder. He’s already scooping Chloe up in his arms, carrying her out the door. I don’t know how long I stand there. My phone buzzes. A video. I open it without thinking. The frame jolts violently. Nate’s voice pours out of the speaker — satisfied, lazy, breathless. “Chloe, stop it… you’re gonna drain me dry.” Then rhythmic thudding. Over and over. The camera pans slowly. Two silhouettes reflected in a fogged-up car window, tangled together like they’ve melted into one. I press my phone face-down against the floor. Tears hit the marble. I think about four years ago. The day Chloe moved into our dorm, she stood in the doorway clutching a canvas bag, too scared to come inside. I laughed and pulled her in. Gave her half my bed. The first time she had lobster, I cracked it open and put it in her bowl. I took her shopping. The first time she bought anything over a hundred dollars, she spun around the dorm room squealing — “Wren, you’re my best friend in the whole world!” Later she asked if I had a crush on anyone. I said yes. Since I was sixteen. She tilted her head and grinned. “Let me see him! I wanna know what kind of guy is good enough for my Wren.” When I introduced them, I said, “This is my best friend.” Nate looked at her a beat too long. “Your friend’s cute.” Chloe ducked her head, blushing all the way to her ears. And I stood there thinking it was a good thing. That he approved of my friend. I handed them the knife myself. And now they’ve buried it in my back. “Stop crying.” Hayden. I don’t know when he showed up. My voice comes out wrecked. “Don’t worry. I won’t bother you again.” “When I said ‘too rushed,’ I meant a sloppy, last-minute thing like that isn’t good enough for you.” I look up. There’s a single red rose in his hand. He drops to one knee. “Wren — I’ve wanted to marry you for a long time.” “But I’m not letting you hand yourself over in a place like this.” He slides a ring onto my finger. Slowly. Deliberately. “Keep the ring. I’ll give you a real wedding. A real proposal. I’ll do all of it over again — the right way.” “But we’re filing the paperwork today.”

When the ring is on my finger and the paperwork is filed, I post a photo on Instagram — my left hand resting on Hayden’s chest, the diamond catching the light. Nate likes it instantly. He probably didn’t even look at it. He never does. He’s never once paid real attention to anything I post. Chloe’s message arrives first. “Nate told me you posted something. Sweetie, you’re not actually showing off that fake photo he made for you, are you? Delete it before someone notices — so embarrassing!!” Half an hour later, Nate’s text finally crawls in. “Good girl. Knew you’d come around. Didn’t spoil you for nothing.” “Chloe says she doesn’t care about titles. The three of us are family now — you’re the wife, she’s the other thing. Just stop being jealous, okay?” For the first time in four years, I don’t reply. I just wait. Quietly. For the look on his face when the wedding comes. The day before the ceremony, Hayden sends me an address. I push open the door — and freeze. Hanging in front of me is the wedding gown I designed in college. My dream dress. I drew it by hand and left the sketch on Nate’s desk one night. He was gaming. He glanced at it, mumbled “looks nice,” and went back to his screen. The sketch disappeared after that. The shop assistant tells me Hayden commissioned it three months ago. Right when my wedding to Nate was first announced. I step out of the fitting room, and Chloe’s shrill voice cuts through the air. “Nate! I want this one!” For a split second, Nate’s eyes flash — caught off guard, admiring — before Chloe’s whining snaps him back. “Babe, you said you owed me a wedding. You said you’d make it up to me. I want this dress. Wren won’t mind — right?” Nate reaches over and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “Wren, Chloe’s pregnant. Don’t upset her. Let her have it — I’ll buy you something even better.” I don’t move. His patience vanishes. “That fitted silhouette doesn’t even look good on you. Chloe’s got the body for it.” He grabs me, rough and careless, yanks the gown off my shoulders. The whole thing slides to the floor. I’m standing there in my slip, arms crossed over my chest, stumbling backward. Nate hands his Black Card to the assistant without blinking. “Triple the price. Charge it.” Chloe hugs the dress to her chest and beams at me. Sweet as poison. Nate ruffles her hair, then turns to me like he just remembered something. “Oh — about tomorrow. Keep it low-key. Chloe’s doctor says her hormones can’t handle stimulation. I booked a little place in Queens — a few tables, a few friends, casual dinner. You hate big events anyway, right?” He shows me a photo of the venue. Mildew creeping up the walls to the ceiling. Round tables draped in cheap plastic. Fake flowers so tacky they look like funeral-home wreaths. I swallow the nausea and keep my voice flat. “Don’t worry about my wedding. Save this for you and Chloe.” Nate’s jaw tightens. “Chloe spent three days — pregnant — running around to find this place for you. She was on her hands and knees picking out those tablecloths and flowers.” “She does everything for you, and this is the face you give her?” He steps closer. Unclasps my necklace. Removes my earrings. My bracelet. “Also — don’t wear the heirloom set tomorrow. Chloe’s energy healer said your aura is too intense. Gold near the baby could hurt him. He’s fragile — can’t risk it.” At the mention of the baby, his voice goes soft. His mouth curls into that little smile. “Better safe than sorry. You’re the wife. Act like it. Be the bigger person.” He nods to himself, satisfied. Grabs a bridesmaid dress off the rack and holds it out to me. “Wear this tomorrow.”

I glance at it. Blush-pink chiffon. Cheap, scratchy fabric. You wouldn’t even put this on a bridesmaid. “It’s just a formality anyway. Dressing up too much would steal the spotlight, right?” I don’t want to fight anymore. I turn to leave. Nate grabs my wrist and yanks me back. His eyes go soft — that melting, tender look he always pulls out when he needs me to fold. Every single time he wants me to give in, this is the face he makes. Slap me, then hand me candy. Same trick. Every time. “Why are you being difficult? You think your husband won’t buy you nice things?” “Once Chloe has the baby, I’ll make it up to you. The Hamptons estate — you’ve always wanted to do it there, right? I’ll let you go all out. Whatever you want.” His breath is warm against my skin. His lips graze my earlobe. Then Chloe comes running over in tiny, frantic steps, clutching a bundle of torn fabric. “This dress is such garbage! It ripped before I even put it on!” “Wren, what kind of trash boutique is this?” Before I can open my mouth, he’s already pulling her into his chest. “It’s just a dress, babe. I’ll take you somewhere for a custom one.” He walks past me and ruffles my hair one more time. “Don’t be late tomorrow. Don’t embarrass me.” The morning of the wedding, Nate wakes up to his phone buzzing nonstop. The group chat has blown up — ninety-nine-plus messages, all tagging him. Brody’s latest: “Bro, your girl posted a carousel — venue looks insane. Why aren’t you on your way to pick her up yet?” “She looks UNREAL today, man.” Nate taps into my Instagram. A hand-beaded couture gown, the train spilling across the entire bed. I’m wearing the Sinclair heirloom set — choker, earrings, bracelet. I look expensive. Untouchable. Caption: All dressed up. Waiting for my groom. His mouth curves up before he can stop it. Chloe pokes her head out from under his arm, pouting. “She’s wearing all that gold on purpose! She’s trying to hurt my baby! The energy healer said—” “If you let her get away with this today, she’s walking all over me and your child!” Chloe cries until Nate’s jaw clenches with irritation. Brody’s call comes in at just the right moment. “Bro, the car’s ready! Everyone’s waiting on you!” Nate cuts him off. “What car? Don’t make a big deal of it. You go pick her up. Tell her I’m not feeling well — she can come to me.” “She’s been acting out lately. Needs to be put in her place.” “A cab is fine. Can’t keep spoiling her.” A few minutes later, Brody texts back. “Uh… bro? Your girl just got picked up. In a Rolls-Royce. By your brother. Something you arranged on the side? ” “We were all set to film her getting into a cab so we could roast her in the group chat. You switched up the script on us, man. We waited for nothing.” Nate opens his mouth to argue. Swallows it. Whatever. As long as she shows up. Saves him another tantrum later. Telling himself he doesn’t care, he’s already in the closet reaching for his custom suit. Nate pushes through the doors of the banquet hall. A handful of his buddies scattered around a half-empty room. They start hollering. “Where’s the bride? Stop hiding her!”

Watch👉 https://cps-front.novelix.live/app-api/ext/new/20260619X6ajIvM7qQ 🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “Novelix” app 🔍 search for “ni372534”, and watch the full series ✨! #Novelix

Five years ago, Christian died in a gunfight protecting me from a rival gang. Now I saw him in the hospital when I having survived the suicide attempt. He had one arm around Lucia and the other holding a little girl who looked just like him. He looked up. Our eyes met. The smile on his face went frozen. His mother, the woman who had called me a murderer at his funeral, was now stumbling over herself to block Lucia from my view. “Elena, what are you doing here—” “Christian had no choice back then, you have to understand—” I looked down at my hospital gown. At the fresh bandages on my wrists. “So.” I said. “While you all watched me lose my mind — while I was swearing a widow’s oath over his body — you thought I was the punchline. Is that it?” Nobody answered. Christian moved Lucia behind him. He looked at me warily. Five years. He’d been alive for five years. And I was the only one who didn’t know. The little girl wrapped her arms tighter around his neck. “Daddy,” she said.

My chest went cold. Lucia hid behind Christian as if I were some kind of monster, yet a blatant provocation flashed in her eyes. Seeing my stunned expression, she reached out and gripped Christian’s arm tightly. The diamond ring on her hand dazzlingly bright. “Christian.” Her voice was soft. Just loud enough for me to hear. “Today is our anniversary. We’re going to miss the show.” I looked past them at the screen on the wall. January 22nd. Their wedding anniversary. The same date Christian had promised to propose to me. The same date, five years ago, that I buried him. At that funeral, his family circled me like I was already guilty. I knelt. I said sorry until my voice gave out, until my knees bled through my dress. You killed him. You should have died instead. Why are you still breathing? I’d spent five years trying to answer that last question. If I hadn’t gone into that warehouse after him, none of it would have happened. I walked straight into a rival ambush. Christian came back for me. He took the bullet that was meant for him and lost his only way out. The explosion brought the whole building down. But he hadn’t died. He’d been alive this whole time — with a wife, with a daughter. My eyes were dry. I had nothing left to cry with. I stared at him for a long time. Lucia kept tugging at his sleeve, and his mother came forward again. “Christian had no choice, Elena, you don’t understand how complicated—” “How complicated,” I said. “Right.” I took one step toward him. He took one step back. “I married you,” I said. “You know that? After your funeral. Your mother gave me permission to take your name. “I stood at the altar in a white dress and held a photograph of your face and swore the widow’s oath with my own blood.” Christian went white. Lucia pressed her daughter’s face into her shoulder. “I thought I owed you my life,” I said. “I spent five years trying to pay it back.” Christian reached for me. I stepped back. “Don’t touch me.” I looked at the little girl half-asleep on Lucia’s shoulder. “What’s her name,” I said. Christian’s hand moved to his cuff. “Nova,” he said. Nova. New life. The name he’d promised me four years into what I thought was ours, lying in bed one night talking about the future. If we ever have a daughter, I want to call her Nova. That was his wish. He’d given it to someone else. I reached up and unclasped the cross necklace from my throat. The one I’d worn every day since his funeral. I dropped it into the trash can by the nurses’ station.

The first time I met Christian, I didn’t trust him. He wasn’t family. Not by blood, not by history. He’d come up through a crew in South Boston, earned his place soldier by soldier. My father had promoted him to Capo. My mother died the night I was born. A hemorrhage during labor — she didn’t make it to morning. Nobody said it was my fault directly. But I grew up knowing it was the thing people thought about when they looked at me. Christian was the first to understand my sensitivity and vulnerability. He was patient. He showed up every time he said he would. He remembered small things — how I took my coffee, which side of the booth I preferred, the anniversary of my mother’s death. So I let him in. All the way in. We were careful at first, the way you have to be when the Don is your father. But my father saw it coming before either of us said a word. My father told him straight: You hurt her, I’ll handle it personally. We fell in love for four years. That’s how long I thought we had something real. Then Lucia arrived. She was the adopted daughter of a low-level enforcer who ran collections in the North End. Small, quiet, the kind of woman who made herself easy to overlook. Christian brought her to a dinner one evening and introduced her around. I didn’t think much of it. The first time I made a concession for her, it was the gallery. I’d spent two years building that operation — a high-end art front on Commonwealth Avenue, clean enough to pass any audit, profitable enough to move serious money. It was mine. I’d sourced the artists, handled the books, kept the whole thing running without a single problem. Then Christian sat me down. “Her father’s in debt to the family,” he said. “If he loses the gallery position, he gets cut loose. And if he gets cut loose, Lucia has nothing. No protection, no income, nowhere to go.” He looked at me. “You’re the Don’s daughter. You can rebuild something like this in six months. She can’t.” I looked at him for a long moment. “You’re asking me to give up two years of work,” I said. “I’m asking you to give her father a way to stay in,” he said. “That’s all.” I didn’t argue. I told myself it was the right thing. I signed the gallery over. Lucia sent me a thank-you note. After that she was everywhere — family dinners, the club, always nearby, always just within Christian’s orbit. The night it broke open, Lucia got herself into trouble at one of the family’s clubs. Wrong crowd, wrong room. Christian went in after her. By the time it was over he’d broken the terms of a standing truce with a rival crew to get her out. She was wearing his jacket when they brought her out. I told him that night that I was done. That I was leaving. He showed up at my door two hours later. I’d never seen him cry before. He stood in the hallway with red eyes and shaking hands and said my name like it was the only word he had left. “You’re the only one,” he said. “I swear to God, Elena. She’s just someone I feel responsible for. That’s all it is. Please.” I stayed. I tore up the ticket and I stayed, because I loved him, and because he asked me to, and because I’m afraid of losing one of the few people in this world who love me.

Watch👉 https://cps-front.novelix.live/app-api/ext/new/20260619KYi1iNeVgp 🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “Novelix” app 🔍 search for “ni674313”, and watch the full series ✨! #Novelix

The day we were supposed to sign our dream job offer, my boyfriend tried to give it away. Gavin and I sat across from the Aetheris Dynamics recruiter, two top Stanford seniors with matching S-tier offers. It was contract day. He hadn’t even touched his pen. “We’ll sign,” Gavin said, arms crossed, “but only if you give Chloe Davis a position too.” My pen slipped. It tore a hole straight through my contract. I couldn’t believe his savior complex had followed us here. He was dragging his fragile ex-girlfriend into our job offer. The HR executive didn’t miss a beat. She looked right at me. “The $400K package is yours. Are you signing?” Gavin snatched my contract before I could answer. He shoved both documents toward her. His pen left a long scratch across the paper. “Fiona and I are a package deal,” he said. “She goes where I go. And I have plenty of other offers to consider.” The recruiter’s smile didn’t waver, but her eyes went cold. “Aetheris is a cutting-edge AI company. We don’t do ‘package deals.’” She paused. “But I can offer your friend an interview slot.” Gavin didn’t budge. “Either all three of us sign, or I walk. Take it or leave it.” The recruiter tapped her fingers on the desk, considering. “Fine. I’ll think about it. You can wait outside.” Gavin glanced at me. “I’ll be downstairs.” He walked out like he’d already won. The recruiter rubbed her temples. “And you? He doesn’t sign, you don’t sign either?” “Aetheris is my dream company,” I said quickly. “I’d kill to work here.” Her expression softened. “Can I ask about the $400K package?” She slid Gavin’s unsigned contract across the table. “We were torn between you and Gavin. Now that he’s out, you’re obviously the better choice.” The salary figure was bolded in red. My heart pounded. “Thank you. I won’t let you down.” I signed my name without hesitation. The recruiter raised an eyebrow. “Gavin seemed pretty sure you’d follow him anywhere. Aren’t you two together?” My pen paused. “We were. Not anymore.” She actually laughed. “Good. I was worried you’d throw away your future for a boyfriend.” She pushed a non-disclosure agreement toward me. “All S-tier offers require confidentiality. We don’t want competitors poaching you. Keep this quiet until graduation.” I signed that too. Months of interviews and stress, finally over. Downstairs, Gavin rushed toward me. “Don’t worry. Aetheris isn’t stupid. They’ll come begging us to sign.” I stared at him, not sure where to even start. “You’re talented, you’ve won awards—but Chloe isn’t like you. If I don’t help her, she’ll never find a job.” Of course. It always came back to Chloe. “I owe her,” he said, his jaw tight. “We both do.” “Enough.” I cut him off. “I’ve heard this a thousand times.” “Help her if you want. But Chloe doesn’t even graduate until next year. Why are you locking down her offer now?”

Gavin’s voice turned desperate. “That’s exactly what I’m worried about. Once I graduate, who’s going to look out for her? I have to lock down her offer now.” “And after she graduates? Buying a house, getting promoted, getting married, having kids—are you going to handle all of that too?” He stared at me, stunned. “Fiona, you can’t say that. When I chose you, she got into a car accident. She was in the hospital for months. Did you forget?” I took a deep breath. “But when you and I got together, you two had already been broken up for six months.” He cut me off. “I’ve never owed anyone anything in my life. Except her. The only thing I can do is help her however I can.” I’d heard this speech for three years. My ears were numb to it. Chloe was his first love. She retook her SATs just to follow him to Stanford. When she heard Gavin had a new girlfriend, she drove off crying and crashed her car. She missed her Ivy League interview and spent months in therapy. Gavin believed he owed her. Three years together, three years of hearing this guilt trip on repeat. I used to think he was honorable. Now it just made me sick. “Gavin.” A soft voice floated over. Chloe stood under a tree, waving at him with a delicate smile. “How did it go? They didn’t give you a hard time, did they?” Gavin shook his head. “Don’t worry. I’ll handle it.” “I’m so lucky you’re helping me. I’m not smart, and I’m so bad at everything. Without you, I’d probably go bald from stress trying to find a job next year.” She glanced at me as she spoke. Gavin’s voice softened. “I won’t let you lose a single hair.” Chloe lowered her head shyly. “I heard Aetheris is only hiring two people from Stanford this year. If they sign me, will that hurt Fiona’s chances?” Gavin paused, then quickly brushed it off. “She’ll be fine. Fiona has other offers. She’s a big girl—don’t worry about her.” In his mind, I was talented. I won awards. I didn’t need his protection. But Chloe? She wasn’t smart. She was fragile. She couldn’t survive without him. Three people in a relationship is one too many. I turned to leave. Chloe called after me. “Fiona, let’s grab dinner together! My treat. To celebrate.” “No thanks,” I said flatly. “I’m going to the library.” Before I got far, I heard Chloe whisper to Gavin. “Does Fiona hate me?” “She’s just like that. She really wanted Aetheris, and now that it’s not happening, she’s upset. Give her time.” I stopped walking for a second. Then kept going without looking back. I did need time. Time to process what I now understood about both of them. I wondered when they’d finally wake up. What world-class tech company bends its hiring rules for a fresh grad? I grabbed dinner alone at the dining hall, then rushed to the library. Gavin texted me. Don’t be upset. I got you your favorite garlic shrimp. I’ll come pick you up—eat it while it’s hot. I flipped my phone face-down on the desk. No time to be upset. Aetheris had assigned me a mentor—a senior engineer named Sebastian Thorne. Also a Stanford alum, two years ahead of us. He’d come to campus for a recruiting event once, as a distinguished alumnus speaker. I hadn’t even started the job yet, and I already had the chance to learn from him. The bigger the package, the higher the expectations. I wasn’t going to let anyone down. So I buried myself in the library, day after day. Gavin, meanwhile, seemed convinced Aetheris would cave to his demands. He rejected all his other offers and started enjoying his pre-graduation vacation. He and Chloe made a group chat for planning a graduation trip. They added me. I gave him a friendly warning. Forget the trip. Is your offer even confirmed? He replied: Finally showing some concern? I’ll ask them. Chloe suddenly sent a string of messages. I want to go to the beach! I can wear pretty dresses and swimsuits! Gavin, let’s go to the beach. Remember when we were dating, you promised to take me to see the ocean? You still owe me! Ugh, never mind. Forget I said anything. It’s your graduation trip. I don’t have the right to suggest anything. Gavin immediately reassured her. Of course you do. We’re not together but we’re still family. I promised you, and I’ll keep that promise. Let me look at hotels. I scoffed and muted the chat. Then I pinned Sebastian’s chat to the top. Then I pinned Sebastian’s conversation to the top of my messages—so whenever he sent articles or files, I’d see them right away.

Watch👉 https://cps-front.novelix.live/app-api/ext/new/20260619MhPZzTXzy9 🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “Novelix” app 🔍 search for “ni718260”, and watch the full series ✨! #Novelix

Everyone knew my husband Seth was cold. Then I walked in on him pinning my stepsister against the kitchen counter, shoving her shirt up, mouth already on her neck. It came out at a family dinner. Seth wanted a divorce. He’d fallen for Serena. Serena’s husband, Callum, agreed to let her go. His family had just gone bankrupt. He had nothing left to fight with. So he took me instead. Two couples. Two marriages. Swapped clean. Callum looked at Seth across the table. “If my family hadn’t gone under — if Serena hadn’t wanted you — I would never have walked away.” Seth picked Serena up and left. I stood in front of the leftover food and didn’t know where to go. It didn’t matter. I was dying anyway. I didn’t say that out loud. I swallowed it back down. Along with everything else I’d been swallowing for years. — The dinner broke up. The waitstaff cleared the table. I stood in the doorway of the private room with nowhere to go. Seth had already carried Serena out. His arm around her waist, down the hotel corridor, into the elevator. He never looked back. Not once. Callum was still there. Waiting. “Let’s go.” He finally spoke. “Back to my place.” I didn’t want to. “You have nowhere else.” His voice was even. “The Coles won’t take you back. Where else would you go?” I looked at him. He always knew exactly where to press. He waited. When I didn’t answer, he reached out and took my hand. His hand was warm. Knuckles sharp under the skin. Thin calluses on his fingertips. Years ago, he’d held my hand the same way on the day we filed for marriage. “Let’s go,” he said. I didn’t refuse again. Because he was right. I had nowhere to go. — In the car, Callum sat behind the wheel and said nothing. Then, after a long silence: “You hate me.” I turned to look at him. He kept his eyes on the road. Streetlights swept across his face one after another. I didn’t answer. Hate? I used to. After the divorce, the hate kept me up most nights. It sat in my chest like something I couldn’t swallow down and couldn’t spit out. I hated him for marrying me and then not wanting me. For being kind to Serena in front of my face. For the way he started looking through me like I wasn’t there. But what I hated most was the needle. The one he arranged. The one he held me down for. I had just found out I was pregnant. I walked in with the ultrasound printout still warm in my hands. I thought he’d be relieved. I thought maybe this was the thing that would finally give us something to build on. He let me finish. Then he was quiet for a moment. “Serena heard about it,” he said. “She’s not happy.” Serena wasn’t happy. So the baby had to go. I got on my knees. I told him it was his. That the scan showed a heartbeat. That it was beating right now, on that printout, that it was alive. He didn’t react. He picked up his phone and made a call. I don’t know who he called. I only heard his side: “Right. Home visit. As soon as possible.” Thirty minutes later, the doorbell rang. A woman in plain clothes came in with a small white case. She glanced at me, then looked at Callum. He nodded. I got up to run. He grabbed me and pinned me to the bed. I fought. I kicked him. I bit down on his hand until I tasted blood. He didn’t let go. The needle went into my vein. My whole body locked up. The fluid moved down the line, drop by drop, into me. I still remember the pain. I rolled. I clawed the sheets apart. I screamed for help until I had no voice left. Nobody came. He stood outside the door all night. He heard me scream. He heard me cry. He heard it go quiet. The sheets were soaked red. The baby was gone. The next morning he came in and looked at me. “Rest up,” he said. Then he left to see Serena. She’d been upset about all of it. He went to comfort her.

My body never recovered after that. The doctor said the damage was permanent. Severe scarring. Likely unable to carry again. I heard it and felt something loosen in my chest. Good. A child nobody wants shouldn’t have to come into this world. “Vera.” Callum’s voice pulled me back. “That procedure,” he said. “I know it left damage.” I looked at him and said nothing. “How are you — how’s your health now?” Not dying. Not living either. Cold weather and my joints ached bone-deep. Every change of season brought the cough. Some nights it went on for hours, and there was blood in what came up. A doctor had told me I had a few years left if nothing changed. I wasn’t going to tell Callum any of that. “Don’t worry about it,” I said. He nodded. Didn’t push. The car moved through one red light, then another. I closed my eyes. — Callum Hart was my first husband. We grew up on the same street in Boston. Same schools, kindergarten through college. Both families had known each other for decades. Everyone said we were the obvious pair. I was twenty when everything changed. Serena’s mother showed up at our house with Serena in tow. My mother found out her husband had a daughter nearly my age that she’d never known about. My mother died that winter. A brain bleed. She was already gone by the time the ambulance got there. The funeral day, Callum came to pay his respects. He took my hand and said: “The engagement still stands. When the mourning period is over, we’ll sign the papers.” The first months of marriage, he was good to me. He was. But it didn’t last long before he fell for Serena. He told me straight. Said he’d split his assets with me fifty-fifty. Said he wanted a divorce. I said no. I cried. I begged. I knelt in front of him and asked if he remembered I was his wife. He looked down at me. No disgust. No pity. Nothing. “Vera,” he said. “You can’t force feelings.” He loved Serena and he didn’t hide it from anyone. When people talked about her, he went after them. When she cried, he stayed up all night. When she said she was unhappy, he gave her whatever she asked for. Including my unborn child. The car stopped. “We’re here.” The Hart house was right in front of us. The living room light was still on. Callum’s mother was on the couch in her robe. She saw me walk in and her face went flat. “Why did you bring her here?” “She is cursed. Her own mother dies, our family goes bankrupt — and you walk her through our front door?” I said nothing. I stood there with my eyes down. Callum said nothing either. She got louder. Went through everything — my face, my family, my character. She went for a full fifteen minutes before Callum spoke. “Mom. It’s late. Go to bed.” She shot him a look, shot me another, and went upstairs still cursing under her breath. Just the two of us. Callum stood with his back to me. “Don’t take it personally.” “Where do I sleep?” I said. He turned, looked at me once, and led me upstairs. He stopped in front of a bedroom door. The room we’d shared when we were married. He pushed it open. Everything inside had been redone. Pink curtains. Serena’s skincare lined up on the vanity. Her photo on the nightstand. Callum gestured at the room. “You can stay here. Don’t move anything. She might come back someday — I don’t want her walking in to find it changed.” I walked in and sat on the edge of the bed. He was still in the doorway. Waiting for something. I didn’t look back. “I’m tired.” He stood there a moment, then turned and walked away. His footsteps faded down the hall. — That night I couldn’t sleep. The room smelled like Serena. Her perfume — something thick and sweet — gave me a headache. I turned over and over. My mind wouldn’t stop. After the divorce from Callum, I’d gone back to the my home. I thought — my father’s house, at least. He wouldn’t turn me away. I was wrong.

The housekeeper stepped back when she saw me in the doorway. My father looked at me like I’d tracked something in. Said I’d shamed the family. My stepmother wanted me out. Every day she had a name for me — a divorced restaurant owner, fifty-something, looking for someone to cook and clean. She said I should consider myself lucky. “You’re a divorced woman,” she said. “What exactly are you holding out for?” That was when Seth came. It was the worst I’d been. My stepmother had nearly finalized it — the restaurant owner, the second marriage I hadn’t agreed to. My father said nothing. His silence was enough. Then Seth showed up and asked for my hand. Said he’d thought about me for a long time. My father said yes. My stepmother threw a cup at the wall. The day I moved into Seth’s house, I thought: maybe this is finally it. He treated me well. He put toothpaste on my brush before I woke up. When I coughed, he made pear tea. On the nights I couldn’t sleep, he lay beside me and patted my back until I went still. I thought I’d found solid ground. I thought maybe things were allowed to be okay now. Then came the day we visited my family after the wedding. Serena was in the yard. She was wearing a white sundress. The wind caught the hem. She turned and glanced back. Just once. That was all it took. Seth’s feet stopped moving. After that, everything changed. He started going to the eastate constantly. Said he was checking on my father. He started buying her things. Lipstick, bags, flowers, jewelry. He started bringing her up in conversation. How smart she was. How thoughtful. I knew exactly what was happening. I didn’t say a word. I just thought: maybe this is just what my life is. The people I love always leave. In the end, it was at the family dinner. He dropped the divorce papers on the table in front of me and walked out with his arm around Serena. — I lay in bed thinking through all of it, and somewhere in the middle of it I fell asleep. The next morning I was woken by shouting. “Still in bed? The sun’s been up for hours!” His mother’s voice exploded next to my ear. I opened my eyes. She was standing over me, hands on her hips, face full of contempt. She grabbed my arm. “Get up and make breakfast. This house doesn’t feed people who don’t work.” My whole body hurt. It was like this every month around my cycle. My lower back locked up. A grinding cramp low in my stomach. Even breathing felt like effort. I pushed myself up on one arm, pulled on a jacket, and got out of bed. “What’s taking so long? Callum’s waiting to eat!” I made breakfast and brought the food to the table. Callum was already seated, scrolling through his phone. He didn’t look up. I set the congee in front of him. He stood up. “What’s wrong?” his mother asked. “I’m not eating.” He was already at the door, picking up his keys. “Serena’s upset. I’m going to check on her.” His mother sat at the table staring at the full spread. Her expression curdled. I stood still. Eyes down. Didn’t move, didn’t speak. Crack. Her palm hit the table. “Look at yourself.” She pointed at me. “Can’t keep a man, takes half the morning to cook a meal he won’t even touch — what are you even here for? You’re deadweight.” When I still didn’t respond, she grabbed a dish off the table and threw it at me. It hit my forehead and split in two. Broth ran down into my eye. “Useless!” She turned and walked out. The broth stung. I blinked. Reached up and wiped my face. My forehead had split open. Blood mixed with the broth, running down. The floor was a mess. I crouched down and started picking up the pieces one by one. When the shards were cleared, I got the cloth and knelt on the floor and wiped up the broth.

Watch👉 https://cps-front.novelix.live/app-api/ext/new/20260619219RiJmydS 🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “Novelix” app 🔍 search for “ni877679”, and watch the full series ✨! #Novelix

My cousin Lily had been taken by the Black Rock pack. Their alpha, Valeria, had one demand: the head of the Frost Moon war general. I was strapping on my armor, ready to lead the rescue, when my eldest brother Cassian slipped something into my drink. I woke up bound in silver chains on the pack’s ceremonial altar. My three brothers — Cassian, the pack Enforcer; Julian, the Beta Treasurer; Killian, the Sentinel Commander — had once been my greatest shield. Now Julian and Killian pinned me down while Cassian raised a silver-spiked rod, his eyes full of a pain he had no right to own. “Elena, don’t hate us. Lily is too fragile for Black Rock’s dungeons.” The rod came down and shattered my wolf core. Through the agony, I finally understood. They hadn’t come to let me fight. They had come to trade a broken war general for their precious, unscarred girl. — The drug was still bitter on my tongue, blood rising in my throat. “Lily is delicate,” Cassian said, eyes cast down, a faint tremor in his voice — but the hand gripping the rod didn’t waver at all. “She wouldn’t survive the dungeons.” “So I’m the one who suffers for it?” I said, holding his gaze, each word deliberate. Julian crushed my shoulders into the stone, his face turned away. “Elena. We’re doing this for the pack.” Killian held down my legs, her usually warm eyes flat and cold. “You’re the war general. They probably won’t kill you. You’re more useful alive.” “Alive?” I laughed, the sound scraping out of my chest. “This is how you keep me alive.” The rod rose again and fell. The crack of shattering bone was obscenely loud in the silence. Cold sweat soaked through my shirt instantly, darkness eating the edges of my vision. The pain was a tide. It swallowed me whole. Through the blur, I watched Cassian drop the rod and wipe my blood from his face with his sleeve — slow, careful, thorough. He came to the altar and looked down at me. “Sleep, Elena.” His voice was unbearably gentle. “When you wake up, Lily will be home.” I dug my fingers into the stone, pulled every last scrap of air into my lungs, and forced out three words. “Cassian. Ashford.” He went still. Shame flickered across his face before he buried it. I smiled. Blood frothed at the corner of my mouth and stained my lips red. “You will all regret this.” Julian and Killian released me and stepped back behind Cassian. Three faces — same bone structure, same carved-in resolve. Not one of them looked at me again. They turned and left. The bolt slid home the moment the door closed. I had become a prisoner in my own room, a war general who could no longer run. —

They loaded me into a crude iron cage and drove me toward the border — toward the Pale Ridge crossing. My legs had been roughly bandaged, but silver poisoning kept the wounds from closing. Blood soaked through the wrappings and fused with the fabric; every lurch of the road sent a fresh spike of agony up my spine. The guard assigned to transport me was one of Killian’s own men. He kept his head down the entire ride and only passed a water bottle through the bars when my thirst became impossible to hide. “General. Forgive me.” He said it every time. I took the bottle and drank in silence. I had no hatred left for him. I was saving all of it. Seven days later, the cage stopped at Pale Ridge. The handoff was staged in open ground between the two packs’ front lines. Two Black Rock soldiers yanked me from the cage and dropped me in the dirt. I lifted my head and found her — the reason I was here. Lily. She wore clean clothes and a heavy fur-lined coat, cradled at the center of my three brothers like something irreplaceable. Her face was pale but unmarked. Not a scratch. Black Rock’s alpha, Valeria, sat astride her black war-wolf, staring down at me with open contempt. Her pack had been crushed beneath my command — twice. “Elena Ashford.” Her voice carried the pleasure of someone who had waited a long time. “Look at you now.” I didn’t look at her. My gaze pushed past her and locked onto my brothers. Cassian stepped forward and dipped his head toward Valeria. “Alpha Valeria. The exchange is complete. Release Lily now.” His voice carried a careful deference that made my stomach turn. Valeria laughed and pointed her riding crop at me. “This is the Frost Moon war general? Can’t even stand. Pathetic.” Her wolves laughed with her. My brothers’ faces tightened with brief shame, but none of them spoke. They only pulled Lily closer. Lily leaned out from behind Cassian and looked at my shattered legs. Those wide, always-glistening eyes held no guilt — only a bright, unmistakable glint of triumph. She curved her lips at me. Just barely. A silent gloat. A winner’s smile.

Valeria waved her hand and two soldiers released Lily. She gathered her coat and ran straight to my brothers, shaking. “Cassian!” She threw herself into my eldest brother’s arms, trembling like she’d barely survived the end of the world. Cassian stripped off his own fur coat and wrapped it around Lily, murmuring softly. “You’re safe now. We’re going home.” Julian and Killian crowded in, fussing over every detail. “Are you hurt anywhere?” “Those savages didn’t touch you, did they?” Three people formed a wall around one girl, as if she were the most precious thing under the sky. No one looked at me again. I, the one they had broken and used as currency, had become a discarded object the moment the trade was done. Valeria finished savoring the scene and drove her wolf toward me. “Take her.” Two soldiers hauled me up and dragged me forward; my shattered legs carved two red lines through the gravel. As I was pulled past my brothers, I wrenched my head around. “Cassian. Julian. Killian.” All three went rigid at once. The hands sheltering Lily stilled. Lily twisted in Cassian’s arms and smiled at me — wider now, brighter. “You traded Frost Moon’s war general for someone who can’t even howl.” My voice was wrecked, but every word landed. “One day, this pack’s territory will be a graveyard because of what you did today.” Cassian’s face went iron gray. He clenched his fist. Julian’s eyes slid to the ground. Killian’s face — for the first time — showed something close to fear. “Get her out of here!” Cassian nearly screamed it. The soldiers quickened their pace and dragged me behind enemy lines. The border sealed at my back, cutting off everything I’d ever known. They brought me to Valeria’s command tent. She sat in the alpha’s chair and cleaned her riding crop with a silk cloth, unhurried. “Three years ago at the Hollow Gorge, you destroyed ten thousand of my wolves and took my best lieutenant’s head.” She looked up. “I swore that day I’d make you beg for death.” She rose, crossed to me, and used the crop to tilt my chin up. “I kept my promise.”

Watch👉 https://cps-front.novelix.live/app-api/ext/new/20260619La45XoXIFz 🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “Novelix” app 🔍 search for “ni686590”, and watch the full series ✨! #Novelix

I caught my fiancé in bed with my sister on our wedding day, but my parents call me crazy and send me to a mental hospital. Twenty years ago, I found my groom cheating. The woman was my sister and bridesmaid, Sarah. But both families joined forces and locked me in a mental hospital. They said, “She’s crazy! Making up lies about her fiancé and her own sister!” In that place, I was electrocuted. They forced pills down my throat. They tied me up and beat me. I lived like that for twenty years. Twenty years later, I finally got out. My hair turned completely white. My teeth fell out. I looked ancient. Like a seventy-year-old woman. I hid in a nursing home in a small county, working as a caregiver. I thought I’d never see them again. Until one day, my ex-fiancé showed up. He brought a girl with him. His daughter with my sister. They came to visit his mother. When he saw me, he froze. His eyes turned red. He said, “Evelyn?! You’re alive? I’ve been searching for you for so long…” I kept my head down, mopping the floor. I didn’t say a word. I didn’t want to deal with him. The doctor just told me I was sick. Alzheimer’s. Late stage. I had three months left. Three months where I could still remember. After three months, I’d forget everything. All the hatred. Gone. Those twenty years they stole from me. Gone. Before that, I’ll make every single one of them PAY! *** My hands shook as I held the towel. Hot water splashed out, burning my hand. I didn’t feel the pain. Head Caregiver Margo snatched the towel from me. She threw it into the basin hard. Water splashed all over my face. Her voice was sharp and cruel. “Eva, you’re slow as hell!” “Can’t even do this right. What good are you?” I kept my head down. Said nothing. “Hurry up! Next one!” I picked up the towel mechanically and moved to the next bed. That’s when I heard noise at the door. A man in a tailored suit walked in. He held the hand of a girl in a princess dress. The man was handsome and tall. The girl was pretty and cute. They didn’t belong here. This place reeked of disinfectant and old people. I shrank back instinctively, trying to hide. But he still saw me. He froze. He stared at me for ten seconds. Then his eyes turned red. His voice choked up as he called my name. “Evelyn? Is it really you?” My blood turned to ice. I recognized that voice. Marcus. The man who sent me to hell twenty years ago. I lowered my head, scrubbing the floor hard. My voice came out raspy and ugly. “You’ve got the wrong person. My name is Eva.” He rushed over and grabbed my wrist. Hard. It hurt down to the bone. “Evelyn, I know it’s you. Don’t hide from me!” I struggled instinctively. The mop clattered to the floor. The little girl beside him screamed. “Daddy, that old lady is so dirty! She touched me!” Marcus let go of me like I’d burned him. He turned to comfort his daughter. His voice dripped with tenderness. “Good girl, Nina. You’re not dirty. Daddy will take you to wash your hands.” Margo rushed over like the wind. She didn’t even look at me. She bowed and scraped to Marcus. “Mr. Astor, please don’t be angry. This old woman doesn’t know any better.” Then she turned around and slapped me across the face. SMACK. My cheek swelled immediately. “How dare you serve guests like this? Three days’ pay docked!” Marcus frowned and stopped Li from hitting me again. “Forget it. Don’t hit her.” He looked at me. There was guilt in his eyes. “Evelyn, I know it’s you. We’ll talk later.” I didn’t respond. I bent down, picked up the mop, and limped toward the storage room. Behind me, his persistent voice followed. “I’ll come see you every day until you’re willing to talk to me.” I closed the storage room door, shutting out his voice. I leaned against the cold wall, shaking all over. That night, I pulled out a broken tin box from under my bed. Inside was a single piece of paper. My diagnosis. The flashlight beam hit the paper. Those words stabbed my eyes. Alzheimer’s disease. Late stage. The doctor said I had three months left to remember. After three months, I’d forget everything. Forget those twenty years of electroshock, forced medication, and beatings. Forget their ugly faces. Forget the blood debt they owed me. With trembling hands, I wrote the first line on the back of the diagnosis. “Make them all pay!” The next morning, Marcus came back. This time, he wasn’t alone. He brought my biological parents. And my “sister,” Sarah. Marcus held her waist intimately, smiling tenderly at her. I hid behind the storage room door, hands and feet freezing. But I heard my mother’s shrill voice clearly. “This is the nursing home? My crazy daughter is really here?”

I hid in the storage room, palms sweating. The door suddenly slammed open. Margo stood there, looking impatient. “Eva, someone’s here to see you. Get out here!” She grabbed my arm and dragged me out. I was pulled into the hallway. I saw them immediately. My mother wore a mink coat. Her face was full of disgust. My father had a dark expression. His eyes were irritated. Marcus had his arm around Sarah’s waist. When Sarah saw me, she smirked. My mother’s first words cut like a knife. “Evelyn, how did you turn into such a mess? You’re an embarrassment to the Carter family!” I looked at her. My voice was numb. “I don’t know you. Please leave.” My father exploded instantly. He pointed at my nose and yelled. “How dare you talk back? If you hadn’t gone crazy, would we have sent you to the hospital?” Sarah pretended to play peacemaker. “Dad, don’t be angry. Evelyn might still be sick. Let’s not provoke her.” She said it sweetly, but her eyes mocked me. Marcus joined in. “That’s right. Evelyn suffered all these years. We should compensate her.” My mother sneered. “She’s insane. Taking care of her is mercy enough. Compensation? Nonsense. Sarah, don’t be like her—crazy and annoying.” Margo very perceptively brought over tea. She shoved the tray into my hands and ordered. “Pour tea for the guests, you useless thing!” My hands shook as I picked up the teapot. I was trembling so badly that tea spilled everywhere. Sarah suddenly reached out. She “accidentally” bumped my wrist. Scalding tea splashed onto my hand. The pain made me gasp. But Sarah screamed and jumped back. “Evelyn, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to!” She turned and hid behind Marcus, looking pitiful. “Honey, I’m scared. Is Evelyn having an episode again?” Marcus immediately grabbed her hand and soothed her. Then he looked at me with reproach. “Sarah, Evelyn’s emotionally unstable. Don’t take it personally.” His hand gently touched Sarah’s head. That gesture was as tender as how he used to touch me twenty years ago. My heart felt like it was being stabbed. My mother suddenly spoke again. “Next week is Sarah’s birthday party. Evelyn, you should come.” She used a condescending tone. “Toast your sister and apologize. Then we’ll let this whole thing go.” Her words made me laugh. I looked at her and said each word clearly. “I will not go.” My father’s face darkened immediately. His voice was threatening. “You’re going whether you like it or not. Now that you’re out, you need to apologize publicly to save face. So you WILL apologize in front of everyone!” After they left, I went back to the storage room alone. The burn on my hand had blistered badly. There was a broken mirror in the corner. I looked at myself. All white hair. No teeth. Wrinkles everywhere. I looked like a seventy-year-old woman. I suddenly laughed. I laughed until tears came. They wanted me at Sarah’s party? Perfect. I’d make it a celebration no one would ever forget!

Watch👉 https://cps-front.novelix.live/app-api/ext/new/20260619vBVOMjgYW8 🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “Novelix” app 🔍 search for “ni283911”, and watch the full series ✨! #Novelix

At the welcome party, a wolfsbane-laced arrow tore through my shoulder and buried itself close to my heart. Before the healers could act, the healer on duty looked between the two men who had rushed in and asked for next-of-kin to authorize emergency treatment. Both men shoved forward at the same time, nearly coming to blows. One was my mate. One was my brother. “I’ll authorize — but first you consents to the severance. Say the words in front of me, Elaine. Wren needs to hear the bond is broken before she’ll calm down.” “Authorize it or don’t. I’m authorizing.” “Elaine.” Cole’s voice dropped. “All you have to do is swear before the Pack that you won’t pursue the arrow incident. Wren panicked after you cornered her. It wasn’t intentional.” I laughed, though it cost me everything I had left. I used my last thread of strength to pull the healer close. “Don’t treat me.” Alive or not, it didn’t really matter anymore. …… The argument outside the infirmary doors wasn’t about who had the right to authorize as next of kin. It wasn’t about the fact that I was bleeding out and needed treatment immediately. Evan Holt and Cole Voss stood on either side of the gurney. Each had planted a hand on one of the wheels, stopping it from rolling forward. The infirmary doors were one step away, and yet they might as well have been across an ocean. I was never going to make it through. The arrow that had entered my right shoulder was no ordinary piece. It was wolfsbane-laced, barbed, fitted with five curved hooks along the shaft. It had driven clean through my body and come to rest near my left shoulder, dangerously close to my heart. The healer was sweating through his clothes. He knew better than anyone what every passing second was costing me. With wolfsbane flooding my bloodstream, my body’s ability to heal itself had been stripped away completely. He opened his mouth to intervene, and nearly got himself destroyed by both men at once. Miserable as it was, no matter how much his healer’s instincts screamed at him, there was nothing he could do. This was Holt Pack territory. No one dared act against the next Alpha’s will. Evan wanted me to speak the words of severance to dissolve our bond before the Pack’s law made it binding. Cole wanted me to swear a public oath of pardon, witnessed and irreversible. Both of them were waiting for me to open my mouth. Like a competition, each desperate to hear his demand from my lips first. So they could run back to Wren and claim their prize. Looking at the two of them looming over me, I smiled — weak, hollow. Then I asked them something that had nothing to do with any of it. “Tonight you threw a welcome party for Wren.” “Why did it have to be tonight?” It could have been a day earlier. A day later. To them, the number was meaningless either way. So why did it have to be tonight? The wolfsbane was spreading. Every word I spoke drove the hooks deeper. But I lied to myself anyway. One more gamble. Just one more. Maybe — maybe one of them still remembered what today was. Evan said nothing. Cole’s fist dropped to his side, clenching and unclenching. A million shades of impatience. “We wanted Wren to be happy. That’s all there is to it.” “Can you stop stalling? What’s the point?” The laughter from that party. The blinding lights. The way my mate and my brother had smiled — warm, indulgent, unguarded. That was what broke me. I had stormed the party. Torn apart every moment of it. Everyone called me feral. Evan and Cole had stepped in front of Wren, shielding her with their bodies. “If you want to lose control, do it somewhere else! Stop embarrassing yourself!” I looked straight at Wren’s triumphant face. “You planned this, didn’t you?” “How pathetic.” She turned to face them without missing a beat, her expression collapsing into grief. “Why — why would she say that to me.” “Is it wrong to want to be with the people I love?” Both men’s ears went faintly red at being claimed so openly. “I thought I finally had a family. Why does she still reject me — why!” After that, using her breakdown as cover, she raised the ceremonial bow and loosed the wolfsbane-laced arrow straight at me. Even as the poison tore through my shoulder, Evan pinned me down. He was afraid I’d lunge at her. Afraid I’d hurt the one he treasured. He looked at me, and his eyes were full of disappointment. “Why.” “When did you become this kind of person.” “Disgusting.” When they lifted me onto the gurney, Wren insisted on coming to see me. What she actually did was lean close to my ear and laugh, soft and quiet. “Elaine. Today was actually a celebration for you.” “One year since yours and Evan’s pup died.” “It’s a shame they’ve both forgotten. Only I remembered — you should be thanking me.” I couldn’t lift my hand anymore. So I used the last thing I had left and bit down on her ear. Evan nearly crushed my jaw getting me off her. And that became the justification they used now, pressing me to speak the words, for why I deserved everything that was happening to me.

It sounds almost funny, looking back. Wren Voss was my twin, the sister who had been seized by a rival Pack at birth and only recently returned to us. Our parents had spent half their lives tracking her down. They died still searching, and from their deathbeds they made Cole and me swear an oath. If we ever found her, we would spend the rest of our lives making it up to her. When we finally brought Wren home, that was exactly what I intended to do. She had suffered so much. I would give her everything I had. But she looked at me with hostility from the very first moment. In the beginning, Evan had seen it clearly enough. Every time I asked him to come with me to visit the Voss house, he’d drag his feet — sullen and reluctant, needing three rounds of coaxing before he’d agree. And when we got there and Wren was in the room, he wouldn’t spare her a glance. “Baby, I’m not going to waste a good mood on someone who doesn’t like my mate.” Cole caught in the middle, always awkward, always smoothing things over. Then somewhere along the way, it became — “Elaine, Cole and I are taking Wren on a run through the Cascades for a few days. You’ve been through that territory so many times — maybe just stay home this trip?” “You know how sensitive she is. She’s always felt like you don’t like her. You’ve been too hard on her — if you come, she won’t be able to enjoy herself.” “Cole feels the same way. He didn’t want to upset you, so he asked me to say it.” “I honestly don’t understand you. You got a sister back — that should be a good thing. But you act like you’d rather she’d never been found.” “If Wren hadn’t told me, I never would have believed you’d been treating her like that in private. Telling her to go back where she came from.” “I’m leaving. Think about what you’re doing.” When Evan walked out, his eyes were full of the same disappointment he always wore when he looked at me now. I held myself together anyway. I didn’t pull all four of them into a room and demand Wren explain exactly how I had supposedly mistreated her in private. Let it go. Don’t ruin the mood. Just endure it. It’ll pass. I never forgot the oath my parents had made me swear alone, separate from Cole’s. Wren had suffered. I had been given twenty years she hadn’t. I owed her. If I couldn’t give way for her, my parents would never forgive me. These were small things. What did it cost me to give way? Then one day, I walked in and found her in bed with Evan. The blood drained from my body. The room tilted. I was beyond rage. I slapped her across the face. What came back was one slap from Evan, and one from Cole, who had come running at the sound. Cole was the angriest. “Wren told me from the beginning — that you’d been tormenting her in secret, shutting her out, making sure she never got any of my attention. I didn’t believe her.” “Guess today you finally showed your real face.” “She survived twenty years of suffering and finally made it home, and the first thing she gets is a sister like you. Elaine — aren’t you afraid of what Mom and Dad would think if they could see this?” “If I could go back — I’d rather it had been you they took.” I stood there and couldn’t move. The tears wouldn’t stop. Evan was holding Wren, murmuring gently, calming her down. He glanced at my tears, his expression completely cold. “Stop crying.” “Wren isn’t crying. What gives you the right.” “The bond between us was never real — I see that now. We were placed together young and I mistook closeness for fate.” “If it had been you who was taken and came back — I still wouldn’t have bonded with someone like you.” “So don’t blame Wren.” “She did nothing wrong.” “I should be grateful I finally saw who you really are.” I watched Wren’s eyes find mine — that flicker of victory she couldn’t quite hide — and suddenly I understood. She didn’t love Evan. She didn’t love Cole. She just hated me. She hated that it hadn’t been me who was taken. She hated that I’d had twenty years she hadn’t. My pain was the only thing that made her happy. And she had the most powerful weapon in the world, their guilt. I had no right to fight back. So on that day, I lost my mate and my brother at the same time.

If tonight hadn’t happened, I probably would never have seen the two of them argue over me again. Though the old arguments were about who got to spend time with me. Now they were arguing over which oath they could press out of me first — so they could get back to Wren faster. Both their phones went off at the same time. “Evan. Cole.” Her voice came through the speaker, trembling. “I’m so scared. The blood got on me and I can’t get it off—” “I wanted to come with her when they put her on the gurney, but Elaine said the moment she recovered she’d kill me first. I don’t know what to do. I really didn’t mean to hurt her. I’m so worried about her—” She cried herself breathless, then caught herself — put on a show of pulling it together, just in time for the two men on the other end of the line who were already aching to shift and run back to her. “Sometimes I think Elaine is so lucky. Evan and Cole care about her so much. I don’t have anything. And whenever I get even a little — she finds a way to take it back.” “It’s okay. You don’t have to rush back. I’ll be fine on my own—” “I’m going to prepare a hundred arrows for when I accidentally hurt Elaine. She said when she recovers she wants every one of them loosed into me. If that’s what it takes to make her feel better, then that’s what I’ll do.” By the time the call ended, both Evan’s and Cole’s expressions had gone dark enough to draw blood. Cole was the first to break. Without any warning, he wrapped his hand around my throat. “Why. Just — why.” “Why can’t you just let Wren be?” “It was an accident. A hundred arrows — do you want her dead?” “Elaine Voss. How did I end up with a sister like you? How did our bloodline produce something like you?” The pressure shifted the arrow inside me. The hooks turned. The wolfsbane surged with every movement, coursing deeper through my veins. This was no ordinary ceremonial arrow. I choked up blood. Evan reached over and stopped Cole’s hand. “Calm down.” “Were you actually going to choke her out?” Something in my chest, something that had already gone cold and dark — flickered with a secret, shameful hope. Maybe. Maybe he still couldn’t let go of me. Maybe his wolf still recognized mine. “If you kill her now, she can’t speak the oaths.” “Were you planning to go back to Wren or not?” “If she dies here, Wren will blame herself. You want her carrying that for the rest of her life?” Once he’d talked Cole down, Evan finally spared me a glance. I was still coughing up blood. It had spread across half my face. The blood was clotting in my throat, and every cough dragged the hooks further, the wolfsbane burning through every attempt my body made to close the wound. Over and over. Relentless. He frowned. His voice went flat. “Enough.” “Stop performing.” “Is that a blood pack you’re hiding?” “I inspected those arrows with Wren myself. They’re thin. Flexible. She’s a kind girl — she specifically ordered them that way so no one would get seriously hurt.” “The impact drove it into your shoulder, that’s all. Your wolf should be able to handle a graze like that.” “Stop being so dramatic. We’re not idiots.”

Watch👉 https://cps-front.novelix.live/app-api/ext/new/20260619JRLCkN8l6u 🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “Novelix” app 🔍 search for “ni086064”, and watch the full series ✨! #Novelix