Category: English

“When the moon goddess designated Catherine and my brother as fated mates, I said nothing. But she was always meant to be mine.” “We were each other’s first love.” “Now my brother is dead. She can finally be mine, and no one can say otherwise.” My fiancé, Killian, has been kneeling outside my father’s estate for three days and three nights. He begs me to reject him of my own accord so that he might marry Katherine instead. “Elara, you are the heir to the Red Moon Tribe. You possess everything; I beg you—reject me. Let Katherine be my mate.” In my previous life, I refused. Consequently, on the very night of the bonding ceremony meant to unite Killian and me, Katherine swallowed silver-poison and took her own life. For this, Killian loathed me to the very bone. After we completed the marking ritual, he never entered my bedchamber again. Later, building upon the foundation provided by my family, he finally secured a firm foothold for the Graystone Pack. He forced a draught of wolfsbane poison down my throat, watching as I writhed in agony on the floor, and snarled through clenched teeth: “You are the one who killed Katherine. Once you are dead, your corpse will be hung high in the Red Moon Tribe’s territory. That will be the punishment for your father.” In this life, I gazed at the man kneeling before the estate gates and smiled. “By the Moon Goddess above, I, Elara, hereby reject Killian as my mate.” …… “Elara, Killian has been kneeling out there for three days now. Is this his way of trying to force your compliance? The audacity!” “He wants to marry his own brother’s mate—a desire for which his own father already gave him a sound thrashing. Now he’s playing the pitiful victim to pressure you. Does he really think our tribe is a pushover?” My maidservant, Rosie, stormed into the room, her face flushed crimson with indignation. I recalled the day Killian first arrived at my father’s doorstep, pleading with me to dissolve our betrothal. The news that the heir to the Graystone Tribe had been kneeling for three days and three nights had already spread throughout the entire territory of the wolf packs. A large crowd of wolves had gathered at the gates, pointing fingers and whispering amongst themselves. Standing just inside the doorway, I let out a long, slow breath. Killian had no choice but to come to me. To marry one’s own brother’s former mate—that was a scandal. The Alpha and Luna of the Graystone Tribe would never agree to this. But if *I* were the one to reject him—if I broke off the engagement of my own accord—then he could claim that *he* was the one who had been cast aside. That way, his parents would have no grounds to object. And so, he knelt here, pressuring me—using the very persona of elegance and grace I had once cultivated for myself—to force my consent. A woman clad in white approached Killian and knelt down beside him. As Killian recognized the newcomer, his face filled with a mixture of heartache and urgent concern. “Katherine, what are you doing here? This has nothing to do with you. I will speak to Alala personally. You are frail, and your wolf spirit is unstable. Go back at once.” Katherine shook her head, tears streaming down her face. “Killian, this is simply my wretched fate. Please, stop pleading on my behalf.” “Alala comes from a noble lineage; how could she possibly understand my suffering? My mate is dead, and my own family refuses to take me back.” “Yet, even so, I cannot bear to see you hurt yourself like this just to protect me.” Killian caught her just before she collapsed. “Katherine, I swear I will look after you for the rest of my life. My brother is gone; protecting you is now my duty.” The moment he saw me step through the gates, he immediately raised his voice. “Alala, you are the daughter of the Red Moon Tribe’s Alpha. You know the difference between right and wrong. Look at how Katherine suffers—I beg you, release me from our engagement and allow me to be with her.” I fixed my gaze upon the gray garment Katherine was wearing. Everyone around her assumed she dressed so plainly out of mourning—as a tribute to her late husband. But no one else noticed the true nature of that garment—a fabric so rare that, throughout the entire tribe, scarcely a handful of people could ever hope to possess it. Killian guarded her as if she were a precious treasure; she looked nothing like a woman who had ever known hardship. My wolf, Laura, let out a furious growl.

I looked calmly at Killian. “Killian, Katherine is your brother’s mate. How can you do this to him?” “Kaden fought for the pack and was ultimately killed by a pack of strays. Every wolf in this territory respects him for his loyalty and bravery.” “Who dares to mistreat the mate he left behind? Can’t the Alpha of the Greystone Pack even protect his own daughter-in-law?” “Or is it that since Caden’s death, everyone in your pack has come to look down on her? If I join the Greystone Pack, I will personally ensure she receives the respect she deserves.” “Besides, when news of Kaden’s death reached the pack, I heard Katherine was so overcome with grief that she fainted on the spot. Everyone praised her loyalty—and how long has it even been?” “And now you want to marry her? Have you thought about the consequences?” Killian was blinded by emotion, but the Alpha of the Greystone Pack was not. So the moment Killian said he was taking Katherine away, he was beaten senseless. But as soon as he could stand, he crawled to my father’s doorstep. Killian held Katherine tightly, looked up at me, his voice full of sincerity. “Elarra, she was meant to be mine. It was the Moon Goddess who made a mistake; that’s why she became my brother’s destined mate.” “Now, because of this, she can never be anyone else’s partner. I cannot abandon her.” “In the Greystone Tribe, without a husband to rely on, she’ll be the subject of constant gossip. With her frail body, she simply couldn’t bear it.” Katherine wiped away her tears. “Miss Elara, I should die. That would be the easiest solution. But Killian won’t let me; he insists I stay by her side.” “Fate has been so unfair to both of us. You’re about to marry into the Greystone Tribe. Or could you let me stay by Killian’s side? I swear, I’ll never compete with you for him—you’ll always be his one and only partner.” “I don’t want anything else. I just want to stay by his side.” After she spoke, her voice choked up, and her body swayed as if she might collapse at any moment. Tears fell one by one, each landing with perfect timing. Their performance of grief was so convincing that the crowd began to whisper, filled with sympathy. “Poor Katherine. Her husband died right after they were married. He left her with nothing.” “Couldn’t Elara just let them be together?” “But if she accepted Katherine’s proposal, who knows who would be in charge of the Greystone Clan in the future? A man blinded by love will always choose the woman he favors, not his destined mate.” The murmurs grew louder. My wolf inside me let out a cold laugh. In my previous life, the scene Killian and Katherine staged right here at this door completely crushed what little dignity I had left. I had been stubborn back then, refusing to reject him. Katherine used her death to turn my bonding ceremony into a disaster, giving Killian a reason to remember her forever—and to hate me forever. In this life, everything starts anew. I will not let them succeed. “Killian, what are you doing?” A shrill shout rang out from behind me, and the crowd parted to make way. It was Luna Victoria of the Greystone Clan. I’d summoned her before leaving. She arrived just in time. She glared at Killian, her eyes brimming with disappointment. “You are the heir to the Greystone Clan. Your every action reflects on the pack’s honor. Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” Katherine cowered behind Killian, trembling all over, and called out softly, “Luna.” Luna slapped Katherine across the face. “Ever since the day you joined the pack, I’ve treated you like my own daughter. But the moment my Caden died, you turned around and seduced my youngest son. You want to be the heir’s mate? Fuck off.”

Katherine wept, her face streaked with tears. “Luna, Killian and I truly love each other. Caden and I have dissolved our bond; I am free now.” Victoria snapped, “Caden’s body still hasn’t been recovered, and you’re already so eager to find your next partner?” Their urgency was, of course, because they couldn’t wait any longer. It wasn’t until after Katherine died in my previous life that I learned she was carrying Killian’s child. That was why Killian had poisoned me so viciously. They were in such a hurry because if they didn’t get married soon, Katherine’s pregnancy would be impossible to hide. Killian shouted, “Mother, you only have eyes for my brother. Have you ever thought of me?” “Back then, the Moon Goddess designated Katherine for my brother, and you wouldn’t let him refuse—even though he clearly didn’t love her.” “Later, because of the concept of destined partners, you insisted I marry Aelara.” “Now I’ve compromised, but I’m simply asking that Katherine stay by my side. Must you be so heartless?” Hearing this, I raised an eyebrow and cut him off: “How can the status of a mistress be worthy of Katherine? She should be your partner.” As soon as I finished speaking, a look of surprise and delight flashed across Killian’s face. He tilted his head back and laughed aloud: “Elarra, you’re actually willing to give up the position of partner for Katherine?” “Everyone says you’re smart and gentle, but I never expected you to be so magnanimous.” My mother, who had been rushed out of the manor, hurriedly cut me off: “No, Elara, you mustn’t act on impulse. Your betrothal to the Greystone Clan isn’t something you can change with a single word.” “Besides, if Killian were to do something like this before your marriage, your father and I would certainly not accept it so easily. You must not act recklessly; this concerns your entire future.” Having said that, Mother turned to Killian: “Killian, you’ve forced Elara to accept Katherine staying by your side. Such disloyalty is truly despicable.” “And now you’re using public opinion to pressure Elara into agreeing.” I calmed my mother’s anger and stepped forward to look at Katherine. “Katherine, are you certain you want to become Killian’s mistress? To give up all the glory you shared with Caden?” Katherine nodded. “Yes. I only want to be with Killian for the rest of my life.” “I don’t care if he’s the heir, nor do I care if I can become the Luna of the Graystone Tribe. We simply love each other with all our hearts and want to be together.” I looked at the two of them. “Caden’s body isn’t even cold yet. As his widow, can’t you even wait until his body is found?” Katherine just covered her face and wept, not answering a word. Killian frowned at me. “You need only agree to let Katherine stay. You needn’t concern yourself with anything else.” “My brother is gone, but the living must go on. Is that not so?” I tilted my chin up slightly, looking at them with contempt. “Killian, I never imagined you were such a despicable man. To marry his partner so soon after my brother’s death—how could someone like you possibly deserve to have me as your wife?” “By the Moon Goddess, I, Elara, refuse to let Killian become my partner.” “Now just go ahead and marry your Katherine—whether as a partner or a mistress. From this day forward, we have nothing to do with one another.” My wolf, Laura, let out a triumphant howl deep within my heart.

Watch👉 https://cps-front.novelix.live/app-api/ext/new/20260701xADbzzGxwk 🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “Novelix” app 🔍 search for “ni045997”, and watch the full series ✨! #Novelix

After my dragon mate bought me at the auction with the highest price of the entire session, which crushed everyone else’s bid. Then, I became pregnant. Dragon-kind struggled to produce offspring. Yet I carried three little dragonlings to term in a single birth. But the male who had once been so possessive he bordered on obsessive now regarded me with cold indifference. “Honestly,” Drakar said, “I regret it.” I looked up at him in confusion. His gaze swept over my full chest and the curve of my waist and hips. “I shouldn’t have let my temper get the better of me back then. I shouldn’t have chosen you just to spite Lyara. Looking at you now — you’re nothing, just knows how to breed. And that’s how you’ve come to live such a wealthy life.” “While my Lyara,” he continued, “has suffered all these years because of me.” My whole body went rigid. My eyes slowly burned red. I whispered a quiet protest — told him he couldn’t live without me. But Drakar wasn’t moved in the slightest. If anything, he grew more animated, already scheming about how to bring his true love back to him. He turned that contemptuous gaze on me one last time. “You think I’d have ever kept circling back to you if your body weren’t what it is?” “Don’t worry. You gave me offspring, so I won’t throw you out. As it happens, my brother still doesn’t have a female. When he comes back, you’ll move into his quarters.” Dragon-kind were creatures of deep appetite. Once they’d been with a female, they couldn’t go without. And his brother — that male had been sneaking around trying to get close to me when we first met. — “Are you certain you want to transfer the original female’s registration to your brother’s name?” The orc clerk at the record office clearly thought he’d misheard. He looked at me — full-figured, abundantly curved — and then looked at the frail, paper-thin female cradled in Drakar’s arms, the kind who looked like a strong wind might carry her off. “Once the transfer is filed, it cannot be reversed without the consent of another registered male.” But Drakar acted as though he hadn’t heard a word. He furrowed his brow impatiently. “Of course I’m certain. Please make it quick — my female was just brought back, she’s not adjusted to the environment here yet, and I need to get her settled at home.” The clerk swallowed his irritation and crossed out the name behind Drakar’s, replacing it with a new one. My name was now filed under a dragon-kin called Caelun. “Done. Your brother still needs to come in and press his mark. When does he return?” Drakar was too busy soothing the female in his arms to give a proper answer. “Tomorrow, probably.” — When we left the registration office, I stood alone to one side. I watched Lyara pout and cling to Drakar, sulking about how he’d abandoned her all those years ago — and how he’d stood right in front of her and bought another female at auction. Drakar coaxed her with tender patience. When he finally finished, he glanced back at me. In the cold wind, I must have looked small and desolate. He paused. Something flickered across his face — words that never made it past his throat. In the silence that followed, I spoke first. “Am I moving out today?” Drakar’s brow creased. “You don’t have to rush—” “You’re Amber, aren’t you?” Lyara cut in suddenly, looking me over from head to toe with naked jealousy. “I remember you. You were the most sought-after female at that auction.” “Orcs just love that type, don’t they?” She smiled thinly. “Tell me honestly — don’t you find it embarrassing, carrying around a body like that? If I looked like you, I wouldn’t leave the house.” She glanced sideways at Drakar, her expression going soft and wounded. “Drakar… you like that type too, don’t you?” Drakar’s face tightened at once. “Who said anything like that? It disgusts me.” I went completely still. My eyes stung. Disgusts him. But every single night, he’d wrap his dragon tail around me and pull me close, taking and taking until I was trembling and boneless. His scales would brush the length of my spine, slow and deliberate. Sometimes once wasn’t enough. He needed twice. Three times. Only when I was completely spent would he finally be satisfied. And all of that, apparently, disgusted him. Lyara curved her lips in a small, satisfied smile and hooked her arm through Drakar’s, watching me with practiced pity. “Don’t take it personally. If Drakar hadn’t bought you that day, do you think you’d be living as well as you have been? You should really be thanking me — if I hadn’t had that falling-out with Drakar, there never would have been room for you.” I looked at Drakar. He didn’t react. I let out a dry, hollow sound of agreement. Seeing that I had no fight left in me no matter how she twisted the knife, Lyara lost interest and pulled Drakar forward, demanding to go home. He followed her with an indulgent smile. After a few steps, he glanced back. “Amber. Since you want to move, go ahead.” “Don’t take it to heart. We’re still family.” Family. Yes. We were still family. Only I was no longer his female. I belonged to his brother now.

The moment Lyara arrived home, her expression collapsed. She stormed straight into the room I shared with Drakar. She tore through every corner, pulling out anything connected to me, hurling it all outside one piece at a time. A pair of woven grass rings I had braided myself. A protection charm I had quietly tucked beneath Drakar’s pillow. I had spent a long time sewing that charm. The stitches were tight and even — every one of them careful, every one deliberate. Now it was being ground beneath her heel like rubbish. I stood frozen in place, watching Lyara pass through our home like a hurricane, scattering everything I had built with my own hands. And Drakar stood right there beside her. He didn’t stop her. He gave a helpless little laugh. His gaze caught mine — brief, weightless. “Let her have this,” he said lightly. “I owe her. A little venting is fair. Whatever she breaks, I’ll replace.” My eyes burned. I shook my head and said quietly, “It’s fine. Nothing important.” Drakar paused. He studied me, a vague restlessness crossing his face — but he didn’t say another word. — Along the fence in the yard, my vegetable garden grew in a straight, tidy row. Drakar had complained about the trouble, said it was easier to just buy food at the market. But I’d still wanted to grow my own. And for all his grumbling, he had quietly built a low wooden fence around the beds for me later on. Now Lyara walked straight through those seedlings without a second glance. She yanked my undergarments from the drying line and shook them with exaggerated disgust. “You actually hang these outside where everyone can see? Are you trying to advertise yourself? A totally whore!” She dropped the garment and stepped on it. Beside her, Drakar couldn’t quite suppress a laugh. His warm, attentive gaze followed Lyara everywhere, completely unaware of the color draining from my face. I hunched my shoulders instinctively. For the first time in my life, I felt ashamed of my own body. But Lyara wasn’t finished. She prowled the rest of the yard, until her eyes landed on the woven basket sitting against the wall. The sun had been good today. I’d been worried the room was too stuffy, so I’d carried the basket outside to let the dragonlings nap in the warmth. My stomach lurched. I called out sharply: “The young ones are in there—” I didn’t get to finish. She had already picked it up. I went white and lunged forward without thinking. But I was too late. Lyara startled, stumbled back a step — and in that instant, a dark shape flashed past her and caught her before she could fall. The three dragonlings, curled in their nest of soft cloth, tumbled out like three small fruits shaken from a branch. They were so small. So small that when they hit the ground, they made no sound at all. Only the largest of the three — startled awake by the impact — let out a thin, reedy cry. “Baby—!” I dropped to my knees, frantically gathering all three of them into my arms with trembling hands. They were frightened. Their tiny tails wound around my fingers, their little bodies shaking in stuttering, irregular tremors. The oldest one had scraped the skin from his forehead. A faint bead of blood welled up at the wound. The pain of it squeezed the breath out of my chest. Drakar had been closer to that basket than Lyara. If he’d wanted to, he could have pressed it down before she ever reached it. He hadn’t. He had chosen to catch Lyara first. And then watched, without so much as a furrowed brow, as our young hit the ground. I used to wonder about all those nights — the desperate, tangled closeness, the thousand small tendencies he had of bending toward me, the thousand ways he had of sheltering me. If that wasn’t something like love, I had asked myself, then what was? But in this moment, I could no longer pretend I hadn’t been wrong. —

I raised my head, voice shaking, eyes red. “Drakar, please. Please don’t let her throw anything else. I’ll pack everything myself — I’ll take it all with me. I promise I won’t leave a single thing behind.” Drakar flinched. He slowly released the arm he had around Lyara. The dragonlings were still crying — thin, heartbroken sounds aimed at their father. They wanted him to touch them the way he used to. Just once. But before Drakar could even speak— Lyara whirled on him, eyes flooding with tears. “Drakar. You felt something just now, didn’t you? You felt sorry for her. Sorry for the young she gave you. Didn’t you?!” “I knew it. You said you were disgusted, but you never let go of her — not really!” Drakar’s brow furrowed. He moved to deny it instinctively. “That’s not—” “You promised you’d come back for me!” Lyara’s voice broke open. The tears came in a torrent. “You stood in front of everyone and bid top price for her. The other females laughed at me for half a year after that. Said I was deluding myself, that a male like you would never choose someone like me.” “After that, no one wanted to buy me. I had to wash other people’s clothes. Split firewood. Every filthy, exhausting task you can imagine — I did it all.” “One winter I ran a fever for seven days. I was barely conscious. And all I could think about, lying there burning up, was you. Wondering when you would come.” “And where were you? Were you with her? Had you already forgotten I existed?” Her crying softened into something smaller as she pressed herself against his chest, fists beating weakly against him. “Drakar, we’ll have young of our own. I can give you so many…” “Just stop looking at other females. Please.” The tension gradually drained from Drakar’s body. He pulled his gaze away from the dragonlings. Away from me. He raised a careful hand and wiped the tears from Lyara’s face. “Don’t cry. Whatever you want, I’ll do it.” The dragonlings called for him. Their voices grew thinner and thinner. They pressed their small snouts against my fingers, their dark, luminous eyes reflecting my face back at me. Asking a question I didn’t know how to answer. Why are we hurt, and Father won’t look at us? I just watched. My whole face had gone numb, locked into something that wasn’t quite an expression at all. I reached out and touched each of their heads, one by one. It took a long moment before I managed anything resembling a smile. “It’s all right, little ones.” I lowered my head and began gathering things off the ground. Picked something up. It fell again. I picked it up again. It fell again. Tears dropped onto the dirt and disappeared. In the background, Lyara was telling Drakar she wanted a new bed built — she refused to sleep in one that had been shared with another female. She wanted the vegetable garden torn out and replaced with flowers. She wanted the fence taken down. Drakar looked in the direction she pointed. His gaze rested on my green, tended rows for just a moment. He looked down at me. Then he turned away. He tucked his chin against the top of Lyara’s head. “Whatever you want.”

Over the days that followed, I moved into Caelun’s quarters. He had been gone too long. The room was heavy with damp. I cleared out a small corner as best I could. Layered old clothes over dry grass to make the dragonlings something like a nest. At night, the thick, sticky summer air drifted in through the window, carrying the cloying scent of the flowers Drakar had planted over my vegetable beds. The dragonlings fussed and squirmed against my chest, too unsettled to sleep deeply. They were heartbroken. From the day they were born, their father had never been cold to them like this. I leaned down and pressed my lips gently to each of their foreheads. My eyes stung. Outside, the sound of crying carried through the dark. I rolled over and pressed my hands hard against my ears. Then — a crash. A heavy, jarring impact. “Drakar, don’t — don’t touch me. Please, I’m frightened—” Lyara’s voice was filled with a trembling of fear. Then, a stumbling footsteps in the dark. My whole body went taut. The next second, the door was shoved open from outside. Drakar stood in the doorway. His pale green dragon eyes were fixed on me with a wild, locked intensity. His gaze moved over my face, then dropped to the open collar of my robe. I knew that look. I had seen it on a thousand nights. In the dark, it preceded him pulling me close, his tail winding around my waist, and the long, relentless hours that followed. He was in heat. I pressed myself back against the wall. Something in Drakar’s jaw ground tight at the sight of it. He didn’t know what he was angry about. His instincts surged forward regardless, drowning out the rest — that is my female, no one takes her from me. As he stepped toward me, I shook my head desperately. “No. I don’t want this.” My refusal seemed to cut through him. He stopped. He looked at me like he’d been wounded. Don’t look at me like that. You’re the one who let me go. “I don’t consent—” But I hadn’t finished the sentence before he caught my wrists easily and pinned them above my head. Then a sharp hiss. The largest dragonling fought free of the blankets. Pushing with his little tail, he dragged himself forward until he was positioned in front of me. I could feel him trembling. His eyes reflected Drakar’s half-shifted form, and what filled them was terror. But he opened his mouth anyway. He bared his small, still-forming fangs and hissed a warning directly at his father. The other two jolted awake. They imitated their brother, shaking violently, pressing up in a trembling row. Three dragonlings barely bigger than my palm, lined up between me and the male who had made them. The tears burst from my eyes without warning. “Baby — don’t, don’t come closer—” I tried to reach for them. Drakar held my wrists. I couldn’t move. Drakar looked down. The heat had clouded his mind. He reached out. The dragonling thrashed in his grip, tail lashing frantically. “Let go of him! You’re hurting him!” I fought like I’d lost my mind. My nails raked his arm. Drakar’s expression tightened. With an absent, careless motion, he tossed the dragonling aside. The tiny body struck the wall and slid down. “Baby!” The pain drove the breath from my lungs. My eyes went red. “What is wrong with you? That is your child! How could you—” Something surfaced in Drakar’s face. A brief flicker of clarity. He stared at his own hand. He looked at the dragonling crumpled against the wall. But the instinct rose again. His gaze returned to me. His hand came back up. “Amber…” he murmured, barely coherent. From the doorway came a scream. “What is happening in here?!” Drakar went rigid. He spun around. Lyara stood barefoot in the entrance, her eyes stretched wide, staring at us. Drakar shoved me away. His face twisted with something I didn’t have a name for. In the panic of the moment, the words came out before he could stop them. “It was — she came onto me.”

I went completely still. The world seemed to tilt on its axis. Everything I had known — everything I had believed about the past three years — collapsed in a single moment. And then I laughed. A quiet, involuntary sound. Something in Drakar’s expression shifted as he watched me. His head swam. “That’s not what I—” he started. But before he could finish, Lyara was already on me. She seized a fistful of my hair. Her open hand connected with my face. “You shameless thing!” Before she could land a second blow, Drakar’s hand shot out and caught her wrist. “Lyara!” “So you’re protecting her now?!” His hand slowly lowered. I watched Drakar struggle. His gaze was flat and hollow. Something inside me went quiet. Lyara dragged me by the hair toward the door, pulling hard enough to make me stumble. She hauled me out into the open yard and screamed at the top of her lungs. “Everyone, come look! Drakar doesn’t want her anymore, and she’s still out here throwing herself at my male! Shameless! Disgusting!” Torchlight appeared as other settlement members came out to see. I let her drag me. I had nothing left. There was a ringing in my ears. My mind kept playing back the words Drakar had just said. The next moment, Lyara grabbed the front of my robe. “You like everyone looking at you so much? Then let them look!” Shame and helplessness crashed over me. I began fighting her in earnest. But the fabric tore anyway. Around us, low murmuring ran through the crowd. “Isn’t that Drakar? I thought he was obsessed with Amber. Now he’s throwing her aside for some bony little thing?” “What a waste. Think he’d let someone else take her home?” “Try it if you want your skull caved in. You know how dragon-kin are. No logic.” The cold air hit my skin. I shivered. Drakar stood at a distance. He was ashen. His lips moved. Whatever thought he’d formed, he swallowed it. Lyara finished her performance. She threw the torn fabric in my face, turned on her heel, and slammed the door. Several sets of hungry eyes lingered on me. They slid away one by one when they glanced at Drakar. The crowd dispersed. Drakar walked toward me. His fingers trembled slightly. He curled them into a fist and stepped past me. “I’ll go calm her down. When she settles, I’ll come back for you.” The door closed. Silence. I slowly pulled the remnants of my clothing around my body. My crying had already gone hoarse. All that remained were ragged, irregular breaths. I didn’t know how much time passed. Then someone stepped in front of me, blocking the moonlight. I looked up. My vision was blurred. A young dragon-kin stood over me. His face was strikingly, almost dangerously beautiful — and at that moment, etched with shock. He breathed out a single word. “…Sister-in-law?”

Watch👉 https://cps-front.novelix.live/app-api/ext/new/202607014rrfn7FpkE 🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “Novelix” app 🔍 search for “ni081447”, and watch the full series ✨! #Novelix

Ding! My inbox flashed. A “message sent” notification popped up in my screen. I frowned. I hadn’t sent anything and was sitting at my desk, fixing a bug. Then I opened the outbox, and found a resignation letter. My name at the bottom. What the hell? ···································································· Before I could even process it, every monitor started chiming. Notification after notification. The company’s Slack channel exploded. Our CEO, Vance, dropped a laughing emoji in the main channel. “Briar’s just showing off her talent! Don’t panic, people. I’ll recall every resignation.” Garrett, the useless CFO who hadn’t closed a deal in months, jumped in to suck up. “Vance, my resignation went through too. Guess I’m out, huh?” Vance fired back instantly. “Garrett, cut the crap. Even if this whole place walks, you’re staying. Who else is gonna cover my ass at the investor dinner?” It turns out that intern, Briar, wanted to flex her so-called “hacking skills” on TikTok. So she exploited an admin loophole. And mass-emailed a fake resignation letter under every employee’s name. Watching the banter, I figured I’d join the fun and wait for my recall notice. My screen refreshed. My request wasn’t recalled. It was approved. Out of a hundred employees, Vance pulled back ninety-nine resignations. The only one he greenlit was mine, the woman who single-handedly maintained the core infrastructure. So if Briar was the new “tech prodigy” and Garrett was his drinking buddy, then I, the corporate doormat who actually did the work, had outlived my usefulness. Before I packed up, I opened my terminal and revoked the personal licensing protocol for Aegis, the independent AI I’d been letting whole company use for free. A company-wide notification pinged: All resignations successfully recalled. I scrolled to the bottom. Only mine showed the green “Approved” stamp. HR Director Linda slammed my exit paperwork on my desk. “Sloane, you’re the only one who didn’t get recalled. Shame, huh? Performance bonuses drop Friday. You won’t be around to collect.” My stomach dropped. “Linda, please. That $200,000 is mine. My family needs that money for—” She shrugged. “Hey, I just process the paperwork. You wanna beg? Go beg Vance. Maybe he’ll throw his workhorse a bone.” I marched into Vance’s office. He was rolling a Cuban cigar between his fingers, and waved his assistant out the door. “Vance, I need an explanation. Why was I the only one let go?” He blew out a plume of smoke and gave me a lazy, condescending smile. “Sloane, we need to make room for fresh blood. You’re just too outdated.” He propped his Italian loafers up on the mahogany desk, smirking. “But hey, I’ll tear up your resignation if you really want that bonus. There’s just a catch.” I forced the words out through gritted teeth. “What catch?” Vance held up five fingers. “Demotion to L1. Intern-level pay. Say, sixty grand a year. Consider it a paid internship to get you back up to speed.” I froze. My ears were ringing. “Sixty grand? When you begged me to co-found this company, you promised me equity.” Vance’s face turned to ice. “That was then. The company’s restructuring. Me keeping you on at all is a favor. Take it or leave it.” My palms were slick with sweat. My phone buzzed. Children’s Hospital. Another invoice for my daughter Lily’s cardiac care. $5,000 a day, minimum, and we were still waiting on a donor match. Since my husband’s unexpected death, I only have my daughter. For that $200,000 that could save my little girl’s life, I swallowed everything and nodded. The second I stepped out, Vance clapped his hands and announced to the whole floor, “Everyone, meet our new Tech Lead! Briar is stepping up, effective immediately!” The bonus that should have been mine just landed in a nepo-baby intern’s lap. Garrett started the applause, shouting, “Briar’s the future of NexCore! Take notes, people!” A courier showed up with an obscene tower of coffe and artisanal pastries. The office erupted in cheers. Briar pranced around handing out drinks. When she got to me, she rattled an empty carrier in my face. “Oops, Sloane. I didn’t count you. Maybe hit the tap water fountain? Keep it intern-appropriate.” She giggled. Garrett chimed in, making a show of spitting on the carpet near my shoes. “Interns stay in their lane. You don’t get lattes.” I picked up my laptop bag and walked into the supply closet they’d assigned me as a “workspace.” Mold bloomed on the wall. Three years ago, Vance and I hauled servers through a flooded parking lot in the middle of a Bay Area storm. He swore we’d split the company fifty-fifty. Now he was popping champagne for the girl who just took my job. I wiped my face and started typing. You want a prodigy? Fine. You don’t get to keep my AI. I opened the Aegis admin console and typed: Revoke all licenses. Effective upon separation. I didn’t say a word. I just watched the circus play out. This place didn’t deserve me.

The next morning, Briar was parked at the core engineering console, cackling at a block of code throwing errors on the main monitor. “Oh my God, this loop bug has been sitting here for three years? No wonder the whole stack runs like turtle.” Her finger hovered over the Enter key, smug as hell. “I’m patching this out. Deleting it clean.” My scalp went electric. I bolted across the floor and grabbed her wrist. “Don’t touch that! That isn’t a bug. That’s a load-balancing patch I wrote to handle legacy hardware!” My throat was sandpaper. I locked eyes with her. “It throws errors on purpose. Delete it and every other processing unit goes into overload. The whole system will eat itself.” Briar ripped her arm away and brushed off her sleeve. “Sloane, just admit you wrote trash code and can’t fix it. You’re making up words now.” The commotion pulled Vance out of his office, hands behind his back, forehead creased. “What’s the yelling? It’s 10 a.m.” I grabbed onto him like a lifeline. “Vance, Briar is about to delete the throttle patch. It will crash the entire production environment. You have to stop her.” Vance glanced at Briar, then at me. A flicker of hesitation crossed his face. Briar’s lower lip started trembling on cue. Her eyes welled up. “Vance, she’s just jealous. Patching this will boost performance by 20 percent, minimum. She doesn’t want me to make the company better.” The hesitation died. Vance turned on me, cold. “Sloane, give the new generation a chance to innovate. Stop holding us back.” He patted Briar’s shoulder. “Go for it, kiddo. Anything breaks, I’ll take the heat.” I stood there, paralyzed, as Briar slammed the Enter key. Every light in the server room died. The central rack let out a low, grinding hum, and every screen went black. The whole floor fell silent. Only the emergency LEDs flickered, washing everyone in that sickly white hospital light. Briar’s face went the color of printer paper. She jumped out of her chair. “I… I only deleted one line…” The red phone on Vance’s desk started screaming. That was the direct line to Titan Financial, our biggest client. Fifty million a year in contracts. Vance fumbled the receiver. Sweat beaded on his forehead. “Marcus? You’re up early.” Marcus’s roar leaked through the earpiece so loud I heard every word from ten feet away. “Vance! We’re getting red-flag security alerts from your end! What the hell are you people doing?” Vance was shaking so hard his knees buckled. Before he could stutter out an excuse, the server rack chimed. Power returned. The screens flickered back on. The red warnings vanished. Briar stabbed a finger at the monitor and let out an earsplitting squeal. “It’s back! Vance, it rebooted! It worked!” A green banner scrolled across the display: SYSTEM LOGIC OPTIMIZED. She ran a performance test. The progress bar flew. The final number froze on the dashboard. Overall System Efficiency: +30%. Vance exhaled like he’d just dodged a bullet. His face snapped into customer-service mode. “Marcus, huge misunderstanding. We were pushing a core upgrade. All systems green now.” He hung up and gestured at the monitor, practically vibrating. “You see that? You have to break things to build them! Thirty percent, people!” Briar lifted her chin at me. “Sloane, who was it saying the sky was falling? Your face okay?” Garrett led the cheer. “Briar is a goddamn rockstar! Not like some people who squat on their chairs and scream about doomsday!” He shot me a sideways glare. “That’s what we call talent. It makes deadweight obvious.” The office erupted. They were popping Veuve Clicquot and doing shots at 10:30 in the morning. Only I knew the truth. That dashboard wasn’t a win. It was the final dying pulse of a system burning out its own to stay alive. I walked back to my closet and my phone buzzed. Unknown number. I picked up. “Ms. Reeves? This is the Chief of Staff at Stellaris Tech. Kellan Cross would like to know if you’ve reconsidered our offer.” Outside the closet door, they were still howling. Briar was balanced on a desk, pouring champagne straight down her throat. “I accept,” I said, keeping my voice flat. “But I’m still owed a $200,000 year-end bonus here.” A pause. Then, “Understood. Mr. Cross will handle it personally.” I ended the call and let out a quiet laugh. Vance. You picked your “prodigy.” Now watch me collect what’s mine, and watch your skyscraper burn down from the inside.

Day three. Last day of my transition period. The company was going berserk. Bonus deposits had hit everyone’s accounts, and the numbers were jaw-dropping, way higher than any previous year. I swiped open my banking app, finger trembling. Deposit: $2,000.00. Before I could even process it, my phone rang. UCSF Medical Center, Pediatric ICU. A heart monitor screamed in the background. “Ms. Reeves, your daughter is coding. We’re doing CPR.” The doctor’s voice cut through like a blade. “We have a potential donor match, but we need immediate authorization and a fifty thousand dollar deposit to lock in the surgical team. She won’t survive another arrest.” The world went white. My knees almost gave. “Save her. Please, God, save her. I’m transferring now.” I hung up and ran. I didn’t knock. I kicked Vance’s door open. He was stuffing a stack of dollar bills into a Tiffany gift bag, handing it to Briar. “Vance! That $200,000 commission. Give it to me now. My daughter is dying.” I was crying. My voice cracked. Vance didn’t even look up. He tied the gift bag closed with a little red ribbon. “Sloane, stop making a scene. That money’s been redistributed.” He gestured to the cheering floor outside his glass wall. “Briar boosted performance by 30 percent. The team earned it.” My entire body started to shake. Something hot and red climbed up my spine. “That’s my daughter’s surgery money. You can’t just hand it out like party favors.” Vance smiled. He stood up, grabbed my collar, and dragged me out into the open floor like a dog. “Everyone! Gather round!” He shoved me into the middle of the bullpen. A hundred pairs of eyes locked on me. Vance threw up his hands, performing for his audience. “Sloane here wants her $200,000 bonus back. Problem is, I’ve already Venmoed it to all of you as bonuses. So if she gets it, you all cough yours up.” He scanned the room, baiting them. “Any volunteers?” Garrett was the first to bark. He shoved his envelope deeper into his pocket and pointed at me. “Hell no! You think we’re just giving our money back because her kid is sick? Not my problem!” “Sloane, have some shame. You trying to raid the team to pay your own bills?” One voice became ten, then fifty. The jeers piled on top of each other. Briar raised her hand like a kindergartener, giggling. “Vance, since Sloane’s leaving anyway, why not split her salary budget into raises? Five hundred a month for everyone!” People were jumping, screaming her name. Vance waved both arms like a game show host. “Approved! Briar’s got the heart of a leader. Unlike some people who only take.” I stood in the middle of it, something jagged twisting in my chest. Last year, my team pulled five straight all-nighters to patch a critical zero-day. We slept on the server room floor. I begged Vance for a $500 bonus per engineer for three days straight. He smashed a glass in my face and screamed, “Sloane! We’re a startup! Stop thinking about money! Think about the mission!” Now he was buying loyalty with my daughter’s surgery fund and looked like the most generous man alive. “Briar for the win! Briar’s our real team mom!” The faces around me shifted from contempt to something darker. Pure hatred. Like I was the villain trying to steal food from their mouths.

Watch👉 https://cps-front.novelix.live/app-api/ext/new/202607012CqJki2fhZ 🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “Novelix” app 🔍 search for “ni303053”, and watch the full series ✨! #Novelix

I caught my ex Alpha cheating, so I texted the Lycan King I REJECTED: “Still want ME?” His reply came in 0.2 seconds: “On my knees in 5 minutes. Keep the door unlocked, baby.” I thought I was the one crawling back… Until the most powerful Lycan on earth kicked my apartment door off its hinges, eyes glowing gold. … “I, Evelyn Blackwood, reject you, Blake Drake, as my mate.” The pain of the bond snapping hit me like a freight train, but the betrayal cut deeper. I never thought my fiancé would screw my best friend. At eighteen, I awakened as a Healer, a rarity. At the Pairing Ball, my wolf sparked with Blake’s. I became the girl every Alpha wanted, the future Luna of the pack. Our binding ceremony was only a month away. He was in New York for the Global Pack Summit. I flew in to surprise him, but the surprise was on me. When I pushed open the hotel suite door, my keycard hit the floor. He was balls-deep in my so-called bestie. “Does Evelyn make you feel this good?” Vanessa moaned, her back arched. “Honey, she’s a dead fish in bed,” Blake gasped. “I close my eyes and imagine your face every time I touch her. Once the ceremony is over and I take over the company, I’ll have her power. That’s all I need her for.” I pulled out my phone, hit record, and walked in. “I got it all on video,” I said, my voice cold as ice. “The engagement is off. I reject you.” I headed straight to a dive bar, drowning the pain in whiskey. Just as a group of creeps started closing in, a suffocating pressure filled the room. An Alpha’s command. “You have three seconds to get lost.” “Or you die.” A man stepped out of the shadows. 6’7″, black shirt, and piercing violet-gold eyes that made my soul shiver. “You smell like…” He leaned down, his breath hot against my ear. “My mate.”

The rest was a blur of heat, sweat, and primal rhythm. It lasted all night. In the chaos, he kept growling “mate,” even though I knew I’d lost my chance at a bond. My wolf, usually proud, was whimpering in submission. I’d never felt her like this. But there was no time to think. I was lost in the electricity of his touch. I woke up before dawn in a penthouse overlooking the most expensive district in the city. My body was sore, covered in marks. The other side of the King-size bed was empty, but I could hear the shower running. I panicked. I threw on his oversized dress shirt, grabbed my heels, and bolted. I caught a cab, my heart hammering against my ribs. Behind me, at the floor-to-ceiling window, the man stood shirtless, a massive tattoo covering his chest. He watched my taxi pull away, a towel wrapped low on his hips. He picked up his phone. “Watch her every move,” he commanded. “If she sheds a single tear, I’ll have your heads.”

“Why do you smell like another Alpha?” I’d just stepped into the dining room when Blake glared at me from the head of the table. I ignored him and sat down for dinner. Suddenly, the butler hurried in. “Miss, there are packages for you.” A fleet of uniformed guards began carrying boxes into the hall. Limited edition couture, high-end jewelry, designer bags. And a folder, shares of a Blackwood subsidiary being transferred to my name. There was a handwritten card. “The night was exquisite. In three days, I’m bringing you home.” My one-night stand was clearly a player. I rubbed my face, speechless. Blake gripped his wine glass so hard I thought it would shatter. “Are you going to explain this?” he spat through gritted teeth. I looked him in the eye. “I already sent that video to every member of the board’s inbox.” “You bitch!”

He should have thought about the consequences before he crawled into Vanessa’s bed. “Not yet,” I said smoothly, tilting my head. “It’s on a timer. If I don’t stop it, it goes public.” “I want all the company shares.” “You’re in no position to negotiate, Evelyn.” “Sign the papers… or I burn it all down.” “Including her.” I didn’t actually expect him to sign; I just wanted to rip the mask off his face. I turned to leave, but he grabbed my wrist, yanking me into his chest. He leaned down, his voice a low hiss. “Think about the pack’s future, Evelyn.” “The future?” I laughed in his face. “I’ve been running this pack for three years while you were busy running into other women’s bedrooms.” He flinched. Just then, a sweet, high-pitched voice echoed from the hall. “Evelyn’s back?” Blake dropped my arm. I stumbled back, dusting off my sleeve with disgust. Vanessa walked in, glowing. “You look great. The trip must have been… refreshing.” “Someone clearly wasn’t satisfied,” I smirked. “Did Blake forget his pills?” Vanessa turned pale, swaying until she collapsed into Blake’s arms. “Honey… when are you going to tell her?” Blake hesitated, then mumbled, “Vanessa… she’s carrying my pup.” … That night, lying in bed, I almost laughed at the irony. My two closest people had been playing me for three years. I was alone. Then, my phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number. -Miss you.- I was about to block it when another popped up. -Did you like the gifts? I’m still dreaming about that night.- It was him.

Watch👉 https://cps-front.novelix.live/app-api/ext/new/20260701QzHYMGGQLr 🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “Novelix” app 🔍 search for “ni939364”, and watch the full series ✨! #Novelix

One week before our wedding, my fiancé announced he wanted to climb Mount Everest — to declare his love for me from the highest point on earth. I was touched, but still planned to talk him out of it, to suggest waiting until after the wedding. Then I accidentally overheard him talking to a few of his hiking buddies: “Ethan, your phone has a GPS tracker on it. You actually want us to take it up to Everest and toss it out there?” “Your fiancée is going to be beside herself with worry. What if she goes into the mountains looking for you?” “Seriously, man. You two are about to get married. Pulling this fake-death stunt is just going to make her suffer for nothing.” Ethan listened with a lazy smirk tugging at his lips. “Can’t help it. There’s this girl I’ve been seeing. She’s nearly ten months along, and I need to be there for her. Going off the grid for a while is the only way.” “Everest is a dead zone. Even if she begs for a rescue, they’re not going to mount a major operation.” “Just make sure you throw the phone down toward the base of the mountain — make it look like I fell.” His hiking buddies exchanged glances. “Ethan, aren’t you afraid she’ll stop waiting and just… move on? Find someone else?” Ethan gave a short, scornful laugh. “Move on? Please. After six years of my psychological conditioning, combined with that hopeless romantic heart of hers — even if I actually died, she’d choose to stay single. She waited six years already. One more year is nothing. I’ll come back, say the right things, and she’ll fall right back into line.” Standing outside the door, I slowly loosened my grip on the handle. So his “pre-wedding adventure” was an adventure with another woman. I didn’t stop him. I didn’t cancel the wedding, either. I just found myself a different groom. …… At seven o’clock that evening, Ethan came home, a bag of strawberries — my favorite — dangling from his hand. “Olivia, I need to talk to you about something.” He set the strawberries on the coffee table, sat down, and put on his most sincere face. “Remember I told you I wanted to climb Everest next week? To let our love be as eternal as the ice and snow at the top of the world. Realistically, it’ll take at least a month — which means we’d miss our wedding date.” He paused, heaving a calculated sigh. “The venue’s booked for the end of May. If I’m not back in time, or if I’m not in the right shape for it, the ceremony won’t be what we want. Maybe we should… push it back?” I said nothing. Seeing no reaction, he leaned forward. “When I do the math, even if I get out by mid-May, I’d still need recovery time. The photos, the fittings, the invitations — none of it would work. Better to let everyone know now than scramble at the last minute. I’ll send a message to all the family and friends today — let them know the wedding’s canceled.” “Canceled?” I repeated the word softly. I wasn’t sure if I was asking him or telling myself. After all, I had waited nine entire years for this wedding. Six years ago, he’d said: *Wait until my career is stable, then we’ll get married.* I believed him. Four years ago, he’d said: *Once I meet your parents, we’ll set a date.* I even pushed my parents into it. Two years ago, he’d said: *Just wait a little longer. Don’t rush.* This year, my parents had resorted to calling three times a week in rotating shifts. I was in my thirties. I didn’t want to keep floating in the limbo of “fiancée” forever. I wanted to get married, build a career, get promoted, start a family — to finally turn that page of my life. But Ethan never seemed to feel any urgency. The day we booked the wedding venue, I was so happy I treated my entire team to afternoon tea. My mother had booked a flight the same night, calling to say she was coming to help. And now, with a single breezy word — *canceled* — he reduced every single person’s hopes to dust. He was spouting noble nonsense about our “love,” but knowing what I knew, all I felt was disgust. The irony was so sharp I couldn’t even force out a word of accusation. I opened my mouth, about to ask, *Do you have any idea how much this means to my mother?* — and swallowed it back down. Because he had already lowered his head and was typing on his phone, sending a mass message about the canceled wedding. He hadn’t even glanced at me once. When he finally put the phone down, he reached over and ruffled my hair. “Once I’m back from Everest, we’ll pick a new date. We’re both still young — no need to rush things, right?” I looked into his eyes. The only thing echoing in my mind was what I’d heard that afternoon: *”I’ll come back, say the right things, and she’ll fall right back into line.”* So that was it. The first step of “saying the right things” was erasing the wedding so cleanly it left no trace. “Ethan,” I said quietly, “Everest is dangerous. People die up there. If you die, then everything is gone. Are you sure you want to go?”

My voice was completely steady. It was the last chance I was giving him. He blinked, then broke into a warm smile, cupping my face in both hands like he was coaxing a child. “Olivia. You know me. I’ve always wanted to challenge myself.” “This is my last wish before we get married. You wouldn’t want me to carry this regret into our marriage, would you?” I didn’t pull away. But I didn’t smile either. “I connected with a few experienced hikers a while back,” he continued. “Real professionals — they’ve all done high-altitude climbs before. Oh, and just so you know, the signal up there can be pretty bad, so if you can’t reach me, don’t panic.” His eyes drifted slightly to the side as he said that last part. In the end, I nodded. “Okay.” He blinked — clearly surprised I’d agreed so easily. “You’re not upset?” “You said it yourself. Last wish before the wedding. I support you.” He smiled and leaned in to kiss my forehead. I turned my head toward the strawberries and reached for one. He didn’t notice the dodge. Undeterred, he launched enthusiastically into his “route plan” — south col versus north ridge, Nepal, base camps. I ate strawberries and nodded along, smiling on the surface while laughing coldly inside. Impressive — he’d even rehearsed the details to make the whole act convincing. Meanwhile, one sentence kept looping through my mind: *”The girl’s nearly ten months along, she’s been a mess.”* The girl. Who was she? Ethan was the kind of man who’d always had women circling him — wealthy, handsome, born into privilege. I used to lie awake worrying I’d eventually be replaced. That fear was part of why I’d spent years pushing for marriage. And now that I knew I actually had been replaced? I felt nothing. Just a hollow, distant numbness. I had no idea who she was, and I wasn’t going to ask. He talked for a long time, then tacked on a final promise: “When I come back, I’ll bring you a stone from the foot of Everest. The sea of clouds up there is supposed to be breathtaking.” “Sounds nice,” I said. He went off to shower, satisfied. I sat on the sofa and picked up my phone. I scrolled to my father’s messages. The last one had been sent back when Ethan and I still hadn’t set a date: *That young man came by with the matchmaker again this year. Said he’s still waiting on your word. He’s been at this for seven years now, Olivia. If nothing else works out, maybe give him a chance.* I remembered vaguely hearing about this man — the village’s most infamous mystery. Allegedly, he’d “gotten into trouble” in the city years ago and never come back. Some whispered he’d been in prison. Every single year, like clockwork, he’d send the same matchmaker to my family’s door. My father would say, “My daughter has a boyfriend in the city,” and the matchmaker would smile pleasantly and leave — only to return the following year. I’d always thought the man was eccentric. I’d never given any of it a second thought. But tonight, reading that message, I suddenly saw it differently. Seven years. Every single year, without fail. A man who showed up year after year — quietly, persistently, without demands — was a hundred times more reliable than a man who whispered *”wait until after we’re married, then everything will be settled,”* while secretly planning to vanish for a year to take care of someone else’s pregnancy. The sound of the shower ran in the background. I lowered my head and typed a reply to my father: *Dad, tell the matchmaker. Let him come this year.* I locked the screen, rested the phone face-down on my knee, and stared at the ceiling. Three years dating. Six years engaged. Ethan always thought I was just “a little impatient.” He had no idea that I had passed impatient a long time ago. I was done waiting.

That night, after Ethan fell asleep, his phone lit up on the nightstand. I reached over to silence it — and saw the message. *Ethan, I’ve been sick again today. When are you coming to take care of me? The baby and I both miss you!* The contact name was saved as “Little Deer.” My hand hovered in the air for two full seconds. Then I picked up his phone and opened the conversation thread. There was only one message — the one she’d just sent. He must clean the chat every day. I hesitated for a moment, then clicked into her profile. Her most recent post was two photos of pregnancy tests. The caption: *Two lines. I’m in shock.* The timestamp was the same afternoon Ethan and I had confirmed our wedding date. Three o’clock. So on the very day he booked the wedding venue with me, he had been celebrating becoming a father with another woman. How perfectly symmetrical. I set the phone down. I went to the kitchen, poured myself a glass of water, and drank it slowly. When I came back, he had rolled over. His arm was draped loosely over his eyes. He mumbled my name — “Olivia…” — in a sleepy, faraway voice. I didn’t move. Something flickered across his face. His brow creased. When he spoke again, his voice was thick and nasal, the way it only got when he was deep in a dream. “I just dreamed… that I disappeared, and you didn’t even wait. You just turned around and married someone else…” He said it like it had frightened him. He unconsciously shifted toward my side of the bed. The old me would have wrapped my arms around him immediately, would have said something embarrassingly sincere like *”I’ll never leave you.”* But I just looked at him. “Go to sleep.” He half-opened one eye, studying me with drowsy suspicion. He seemed dissatisfied with my response. I was already too exhausted to manage his moods. I rolled over and went to sleep. The next morning, the doorbell rang early. Three hiking buddies showed up with enormous packs, crowding into the entryway. “Ethan! I printed out the Everest route map — look, we go in through the south col, then to Base Camp, then the Khumbu Icefall up toward Camp One—” They spread the map across the coffee table, all talking at once. I leaned against the kitchen doorframe, sipping soy milk, not saying a word. Ethan noticed the silence and came over, holding up the map. “Olivia, look — we planned every day, every kilometer. We have experience, we have a system. Nothing’s going to happen.” “Mmm,” I said, and kept sipping. He seemed vaguely uncomfortable. He started to say something else, but his phone rang. He stepped out to the balcony to take it. From where I stood, I couldn’t make out the words — only the occasional lilt of laughter. Soft. Playful. The three hiking buddies glanced at each other and very deliberately went back to studying the map. Two minutes later, Ethan came back in and said casually, “One of the new hires at the company. Just started. Little work question she didn’t understand.” He looked at me with the expectant patience of a man waiting to be interrogated. But I said nothing. I was thinking about “Little Deer.” He had hired a batch of management trainees earlier that year. One of them was a girl named Grace Harlow. I’d seen her once, downstairs from his office, when I’d come to pick him up for lunch. She wore her hair in a ponytail. When she smiled, she had two deep dimples. And when she spotted Ethan, her eyes lit up like lamps. At the time I’d said to him: “That girl’s sharp.” He’d smiled and said, “Yeah. The skill set’s a match.” Now I understood what he meant by that. “Olivia?” Ethan said, with a faint note of fishing in his tone. “You’re not curious what the question was?” “I don’t know anything about your business.” I wiped my hands on a dish towel and picked up my bag. “I’m going to the store. Carry on.” At the door, I glanced down at my vibrating phone. A message glowed on the screen: *Appointment confirmed — one week from today.* I typed back *okay*, and instantly Ethan’s hand shot out and snatched the phone. “One week from now? What for?”

He stared at the stranger’s profile picture, the chat log showing only two brief messages, and his brow knotted. “Who is this?” I answered calmly. “Someone who booked a spot for me. I have a life event to take care of next week.” I reached out to take the phone back. He didn’t give it. Instead, he caught my wrist, and his voice turned gentle. “What kind of life event? Olivia, are you still angry that I canceled the wedding next week?” “When I get back, I promise I’ll make it up to you — whatever kind of wedding you want, wherever you want for the honeymoon, just name it. Okay?” He poured on the sweetness, his tone warm as honey. The three hiking buddies pretended to study the map while their ears stood straight up. I was about to respond — when a figure stepped through the front courtyard gate. “Mr. Hayes, am I interrupting? I happened to be passing by. Wanted to ask for some time off.” Her voice was casual, as if she were walking into her own home. I went still. When I’d let the guys in earlier, I was certain I had locked that gate. She could walk in without a key. She’d clearly been here before. I thought, with a joyless inner smile: *When did my home become a triangle?* It had almost trapped the foolish woman who’d spent six years waiting inside it. “I need to take extended leave,” Grace Harlow continued, drifting into the living room with the ease of someone very comfortable here. “I’m going back home to rest. Might be away for… about a year.” Her gaze swept the room — touched briefly on the three hiking buddies — then landed on me, sweet as sugar. “Good morning, Ms. Reid.” Ethan’s expression didn’t change. “For leave requests, just send a message. You didn’t need to come all the way here.” “I was worried you’d miss it.” She reached into her bag and produced a thermos, holding it out to him with a winning smile. “I made you coffee. Ethiopian Geisha beans — thought you’d like it.” Ethan glanced at me. He didn’t take it. Grace, unfazed, simply set the thermos on the coffee table. It landed squarely on top of the Everest route map. One of the hiking buddies choked back a laugh. “The dedication of employees these days — coming all the way to the boss’s house just to file a PTO request.” Another buried his face in his water glass to hide a smirk. Grace acted as though she hadn’t heard. She turned to me, her gaze as bright and warm as the first time I’d seen her. “You don’t mind, do you, Ms. Reid? I’m so new at everything — Mr. Hayes has been so patient teaching me. I don’t know what I’d do without his guidance.” “I don’t mind.” I gave her a light smile. “He’s taught plenty of people. You’re not the first.” The brightness in her smile faltered — just for a moment. I turned to Ethan. “Phone. I’m going to the store.” He hesitated for two seconds, then handed it over. I took it and walked past Grace. At the coffee table, I glanced down at the thermos she’d placed there. “Freshly brewed coffee goes bad once it sits,” I said simply. “Remember to take that with you when you go. I don’t keep garbage in my home.” Grace’s carefully arranged expression crumbled. Her eyes went glassy. Her hand drifted — deliberately, I thought — to rest against her stomach. “Ms. Reid, I only wanted to thank Mr. Hayes for all he’s done for me… If my being here makes you uncomfortable, I won’t come again.” Ethan’s expression darkened. “Olivia.” His voice carried a clear edge of displeasure. “What is wrong with you? Could you not embarrass yourself like this?” I didn’t look at him. I opened the front door. “I’m exactly like this.” “You—” He took a step after me, then caught himself — the buddies and Grace were watching. He lowered his voice, sharp and clipped. “She just came to file a leave request. Was all that really necessary? Is this really your best? You think about nothing but getting married. Can you not function without a man?” The words left his mouth. His lips pressed shut, and he added, more stiffly: “The point is — I made a commitment to these guys, and I’m leaving first thing tomorrow. The wedding’s not gone, just delayed. Stop making a scene.” “Intimidating a girl like that. It just makes you look small.” “You’re completely right,” I said pleasantly. And I walked out without looking back. Behind me, one of the buddies said quietly, “Ethan — maybe go after her? You’re going to be away for weeks. Leaving things like this can’t be good.” Ethan didn’t move. “Go after her? So she can learn that throwing a fit works? Let her walk. When she comes crawling back, she can do it on her own.” The door shut behind me. Through the panel, I heard Ethan curse under his breath. I thought about every argument we’d ever had, and every make-up that followed. Every single time, I was the one who bent. He’d go cold — and within three days, I’d crack and text first. He’d sulk — and I’d cook his favorite meal and coax him out of it. He’d tell me I was too much — and I’d go quiet, swallow whatever I’d been feeling, and make myself smaller. I’d told myself that was what long relationships looked like. Compromise. Work. *Someone always has to be the one to step back.* But standing here now, I finally understood the truth. He had known Grace Harlow for less than six months. And in those months, he’d given her the promotion I had once dreamed of. He’d given her a child. He was willing to disappear for ten months — to fake his own death — just to be near her. In our entire relationship, even at its warmest, I had never once been treated with that kind of devotion. I had been asking to have a child for years. He had always been scrupulously, almost obsessively careful. He hadn’t been careful because he didn’t want children. He’d been careful because he didn’t want children with me. Looking back now, I could see it — the pattern of the last six months. Later nights. More secretive texts. I’d told myself he was just driven, trying to get the company in order before the wedding. But some things had been decided long before I knew. A wedding that was never meant to happen… was never going to happen.

Watch👉 https://cps-front.novelix.live/app-api/ext/new/20260701I3X1K4jixK 🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “Novelix” app 🔍 search for “ni580920”, and watch the full series ✨! #Novelix

I had been with my childhood sweetheart Dante for eight years. We were finally going to get married. But the night before the wedding, I accidentally overheard him talking to his unerboss, David. “Tomorrow, once we leave the house, don’t go to the church. Drive the wedding car straight to Sinclair Manor.” “Sinclair Manor?” Dante’s voice was low.“Serena’s family went bankrupt. They owe the Sinclair family tens of millions. Her father wants to marry her off to repay the debt… to that old Sinclair godfather.” ” I can’t watch her life get destroyed. Bella will have to take her place.” David froze.“Boss… so you won’t ruin Serena… but you’re fine ruining Bella?” Dante answered calmly.“The Sinclair godfather is ninety. He’s already dying.” “After a couple of years, once he’s gone, I don’t care Bella’s been married before. I’ll still marry her.” David hesitated.“But do you really think Bella will go along with it?” Dante thought for a moment.“Tomorrow, my mother will put something in the champagne Bella drinks before she leaves.” “When she wakes up… she’ll already be in the Sinclair godfather’s bed.” “It’ll be done. She won’t have a choice.” I heard everything. I didn’t cry. I didn’t make a sound. I just turned around and went back to my room and waited for the wedding that would never really be mine. When Dante found me again, trying to win me back, I was already five months pregnant. Just like he once said, the deal was already sealed. Now he was the one with no choice left. ****** The next morning, makeup artists and bridesmaids arrived early at the Moretti Mansion. Serena came too. The moment she saw me in my wedding dress, her eyes turned red. “Bella… I’m so jealous. You get to marry someone you love. You’re so lucky.” “Not like me. My father is forcing me to marry a ninety-year-old man to pay off debts.” She wiped her tears, then glanced at Dante.“But luckily… someone secretly took me to city hall yesterday. I’m already legally married. The old man can’t marry me even if he wants to now.” I froze. I thought being forced into a substitute marriage was already bad enough. I didn’t expect Dante had already registered marriage with her. My best friend Clara leaned in and whispered,“Why is she even here today? This is your wedding.” “And she’s crying on purpose. Is she trying to curse you or something?” “It’s fine,” I said quietly, patting her hand. Because this was never really my wedding anyway. Dante was just acting normal… to get me into the car and carry out his plan. Dante walked into the makeup room and glanced at me. “Almost done. Let’s go. Don’t be late.” He didn’t even really look at me. But when he passed Serena, he stopped to fix her coat collar. Then his eyes landed on my necklace. An emerald necklace. Only the godmother of the Moretti family could wear it. “Bella, Serena isn’t wearing any jewelry today. She looks too plain.” “Let her borrow your necklace for the day.” Clara immediately snapped.“Dante, that’s Bella’s necklace!” Dante frowned slightly.“It’s just a necklace. What’s the difference?” “This isn’t just—” “Clara,” I cut her off. “Let her have it.” Serena was the daughter of the Romano godfather. For two years, Dante always used that as an excuse. “Don’t offend the Romano family.” So I gave in again and again. My work. My pets. My clothes. My jewelry. And now… even my husband. Eight years, and in the end, it was all a carefully planned lie.

Serena put on my necklace, a smug smile on her face. “Dante, this necklace suits me so well. It’s like it was made for me.” She smiled sweetly, almost mocking.“Where did you buy it?” That necklace was personally put on my neck by Dante. When he was twenty, after the bloody gunfight at the harbor, he finally became the godfather of the Marchetti family. He was still covered in blood that day, but he was smiling as he held that necklace. “Bella, I’m not hurt.” “When we get married, you’ll wear this necklace.” “I want the whole world to know you’re my only wife.” “Bella, I’ll give you the best of everything.” Back then, Dante really loved me. He couldn’t stand seeing me suffer even a little. He wanted to give me everything. But everything changed after Serena appeared. The bridesmaids didn’t notice the tension between us and started cheering. “Kiss her! Kiss her!” Dante gave in to the teasing and leaned in to kiss me. But at that moment Serena suddenly “lost her balance” and fell straight into his arms. Dante reached out instinctively and their lips accidentally met. The room went dead silent. Clara snapped. “Serena, you did that on purpose!” “I’m sorry… I just lost my balance…” “Lost your balance? Out of everyone here, you just had to fall into Dante’s arms?” “Enough.”Dante helped Serena up, looking slightly annoyed.“She twisted her ankle. It’s normal.” Then he looked at Clara coldly.“Is this really something worth getting angry over?” “This is not a small thing—”Clara was about to explode, but I stopped her. Because in the past two years, Dante always said the same thing. Last year, Serena stole my three-month project. He said it was a small thing. Half a year ago, she ruined our anniversary. He said it was a small thing. Last month, she killed my cat of six years. He still said it was a small thing. Every time, he told me not to argue. So this time…I really didn’t need to argue anymore. Just then, Dante’s mother walked over with a glass of champagne. “Bella, I’ve finally waited for you to grow up and get married.” She handed me the glass with a gentle smile.“Come on, drink this blessing champagne.” I stared at the bubbles in the glass. For a moment, I froze. I lost both my parents when I was young. For more than ten years, the Moretti family adopted me and treated me as their own daughter. But now the two people I trusted most were about to push me into hell. I knew exactly what this drink meant. But I still took it and drank it all in one go. Dante took my hand.“Let’s go. It’s time.”

When I was little, Dante used to hold my hand like this. When I was twelve, my parents died in a car accident. I was devastated and hid away, not eating or drinking for three whole days. Dante found me and took me home, barely alive. He held my thin hand and said firmly, “Bella, from now on, my home is your home, my parents are your parents.” “Don’t be afraid, I’m here. I’ll always protect you.” His hand was still as warm and broad as before. But it no longer belonged to me. At the manor gate, a row of black SUVs were neatly parked. Dante opened the door and gestured for me to get in. Clara followed and sat beside me. But Dante didn’t get into the same car. He stood by the door, looking at me with an expression I couldn’t decipher. “Bella,” he said, adjusting my veil with a smile, “Take good care of yourself.” Clara’s tone was displeased: “What are you still standing here for? Get in the car!” Dante smiled and pointed to the car behind: “I’ll take the other one. I’ll escort you from behind.” With that, he slammed the car door shut. Clara frowned, her confusion deepening: “What’s wrong with Dante today? Why is he acting so strangely?” “Nothing’s wrong,” I explained softly, “He just wants me to be Serena’s substitute bride.” “What?” Before I could reply, Clara suddenly realized something was wrong. “Wait, driver, stop!” “You’re going the wrong way. Why are you driving that way? Turn around.” “Clara,” I interrupted her, “the driver isn’t wrong. I’m going to Sinclair Manor.” “Sinclair Manor?” I told Clara the whole story. Clara trembled with rage upon hearing this: “Damn it! How could Dante treat you like this? Has he lost all his conscience?!” I remained calm: “The Moretti family raised me for so many years; consider it repaying a debt of gratitude.” “They raised you for over ten years, but you saved Dante’s life back then. That debt of gratitude has long been repaid!” “Besides, these past two years, when Dante had intermittent back pain and couldn’t move, you took care of him without leaving his side!” “You’ve given him so much; why should he treat you like this?” Clara was right. In terms of repaying a debt of gratitude, I had already repaid it long ago. However, it no longer mattered. Thoughts drifted by when my phone chimed with a message. It was from Serena. [Bella, today is truly a joyous day! Dante just gave me a wedding gift. Isn’t it beautiful?] I stared blankly at the emerald bracelet in the picture, feeling as if I had fallen into an ice cave. This bracelet is a keepsake from my mother, passed down through generations in my family. Because I was too young at the time, Dante’s mother kept it for me. They promised to return it to me after my wedding. How could he give it to Serena without my consent? “Stop!”

Watch👉 https://cps-front.novelix.live/app-api/ext/new/20260701jGQ8HTtFsF 🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “Novelix” app 🔍 search for “ni931632”, and watch the full series ✨! #Novelix

The Moon Goddess said I carried the spirit of the White Wolf, so the Lycan King chose me as his heir’s mate. But on the day of my mating ceremony, my father’s bastard daughter stole my place and my mate. I found and exposed her scheme. My father fell to his knees before the king, and she was exiled to the slave quarters. So I thought I had won. And I mated with the Lycan King heir, Darius, and carried his pup. Until the day I went into labor. The healers said the birth had gone wrong, and I might not survive. When I was at death’s door, Darius walked into my chamber with that bastard, Sienna, on his arm. “Aria,” he said, “did you really think you could be my Luna? If you hadn’t tricked my father with that White Wolf nonsense, I would never have touched you.” “Your mother screamed for three days before she died. The rogues took turns with her until there was nothing left to bury.” Sienna leaned close to my ear, smiling. “The prophecy, the mate bond, the Luna’s throne. It was always meant to be mine.” Finally, I died with my unborn pup. When I woke up, I was back on the day of the mating ceremony. I sat up and found my hands were smooth. My belly was flat and the mating mark on my neck was gone. I was eighteen again, and the Mating Ceremony was still hours away. This life, I’ll let them have each other. But I still will be the Luna, and the next Alpha King’s throne will change hands. “Aria, once you enter the Royal Pack, you must control your temper. Never defy the Alpha Heir.” My mother was crying outside the ceremonial carriage. “Mom. I will. Don’t worry about me.” I decided to sit quietly in the carriage and wait for the ceremony to begin. Then the carriage lurched to a stop and I heard a voice I knew too well. “STOP!” It’s Darius. In my past life, I never saw him until the mating ceremony started. He had stayed in the Citadel, waiting for his mate. But now he was here and charging straight toward the servant’s carriage behind me. “This whole ceremony is a fraud!” he announced to the crowd. “Aria used a fake prophecy to steal what belongs to my true mate. Sienna is the real one chosen by the Moon Goddess!”

Hearing his words, I understood that he remembered what happened in the last life, too. He had been reborn, just like me. And he thought switching mates early would fix everything that went wrong in our past life. My mother was alarmed and lunged at him. “What are you doing now? Where was Aria?” He shoved her to the ground without looking and pulled Sienna out with his own hands. She wasn’t wearing the servant’s clothes. My jewelry was on her neck, and my ceremonial furs were put on. They had already made the switch before. Darius held her like she was something precious. “The Luna’s position belongs to Sienna. I’ve already informed the King. A liar like Aria will never set foot in my pack.” After he finished speaking I stepped out of the carriage. Sienna hid behind him, playing the victim. “Sister, I don’t know how we got switched. But since this is what the Alpha Heir wants… I can’t refuse him.” Every word dripped with false sweetness. The same act and the same lies. My mother could not control herself, her face went white with rage. “You ungrateful bitch! Your father pitied you enough to let you serve as Aria’s handmaiden, and you repay us by stealing her Luna place?” “This match was blessed by the Moon Goddess and decreed by the Lycan King! You’ll get our whole pack killed!” Darius stepped forward, eyes cold. “Shut your mouth. Sienna is my true mate. If Aria hadn’t lied her way into the King’s favor, I would never have looked at her twice.” He walked toward me then. Stopped inches from my face. Leaned down to whisper in my ear. “Aria. I killed you once. I can kill you again.” In my past life, those words would have made me beg and scream, even fight. Now I just smiled. “Then I wish the future Lycan King gets exactly what he wants.” He stared at me. He had expected tears and rage, but didn’t know what to do with calm now. I watched him leave with Sienna. She turned to smirk at me one last time. Let her smirk. Let her take the carriage, the jewels, the Luna’s throne. She had no idea what she was stealing. Darius thought he could change his fate by changing his mate. He seemed to have forgotten that even if I’m not his mate, I am still me. I carried the spirit of the White Wolf, which was the key to the next Alpha King’s success.

Watch👉 https://cps-front.novelix.live/app-api/ext/new/202607014JG7LZfg08 🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “Novelix” app 🔍 search for “ni423078”, and watch the full series ✨! #Novelix

When my husband needed someone to sign the surgical consent form after his car accident, the nurse told me something that stopped my heart cold — I wasn’t his legal wife. Five years. For five years, I had stood by Ethan’s side, helping him grow a cheap community pizzeria into a thriving chain of Italian restaurants. At our lowest point, we shared a basement apartment. We scrubbed dishes together, peeled vegetables side by side, and stayed until past midnight to close up. He used to hold my hand and say, “Once we have money, I’ll give you the grandest wedding you’ve ever seen.” But now, the nurse’s voice was polite and utterly cold. “I’m sorry. The woman registered in our system as Mr. Ethan Caldwell’s legal spouse — that isn’t you.” “The person authorized to sign is a Ms. Vivian Marsh.” A second later, Ethan’s secretary, Vivian Marsh, came rushing in and coolly signed her name in the next-of-kin field. “Nora, don’t overthink it. There’s probably just a glitch in the hospital system.” “Right now, getting Ethan into surgery is what matters. I had to sign — there was no choice.” In that moment, I actually believed her. I thought it was a hospital mistake. Until I asked a friend to pull Ethan’s marriage records from the civil registry database. We had been together for ten years. His marriage certificate with Vivian had been registered for eight. I didn’t say a word. I simply took the secret recipe I had spent years refining — batch after batch, trial after trial — and destroyed it completely. No formula. No ingredients list. Nothing. Let’s see what he uses to open his new locations. Let’s see how he repays his loans. … ICU visiting hours were limited. Vivian had handled all the paperwork under her status as next of kin. “Nora, Ethan still hasn’t regained consciousness, but the doctor says his vitals are stable now.” She walked toward me. “Would you like to go in and see him? I told the nurse to give you five minutes.” I looked at her, and a wave of absurdity washed over me. Since when did I need another woman’s permission to see my own husband? “No thank you.” “When exactly did the two of you register?” Vivian’s hand froze in midair. She lowered it slowly and smoothed a strand of hair behind her ear. “Nora, why are you asking that now? You’ve known all these years that Ethan only has eyes for you.” “He treats you like a wife. You’ve always been his wife. Does that piece of paper really matter so much?” I looked at her, and suddenly I laughed. “Then go to the registry right now and divorce him. Put my name on the certificate instead. Will you do that?” Vivian’s expression went rigid. I held her gaze and repeated, slowly and deliberately: “I asked — when.” Vivian let out a long breath, reached into her bag, and handed me a small red booklet. “Eight years ago. October.” Eight years ago, Ethan told me he was traveling to another city to scout new locations. He was gone for an entire week. Apparently, that week, he had gone to register a marriage with his secretary. I stared at the booklet. Their two photos sat side by side on the page, smiling. Warm. Happy. I had a booklet that looked exactly the same in my own bag — the one Ethan had arranged for me ten years ago. He’d said we were both too busy. The line at the registry was too long. He’d pulled some strings to have it expedited. And I had believed every word. I had stayed up with him in the slums washing bowls, helped him navigate complex tax filings, eaten donated food with him from the shelter line. I thought we were partners forged in hardship. It turned out I was nothing more than free labor the law didn’t even recognize. When I stayed silent too long, Vivian tucked the certificate back into her bag. “Nora, Ethan had his reasons.” “The company needed to expand. We needed access to loans and credentials. My household registration is local — I have property in my name.” “By registering with me, the company qualified for the maximum tax-exempt enterprise loan.” “It was all for the company’s growth. Nora, surely you can see what matters here?” I turned and walked toward the exit. Vivian called after me: “Nora, are you actually angry right now? I already told you, Ethan and I are just—” I stopped. Turned back to face her. “Just what? Just legally married? Just using me for loans? Just for credentials?” “Save those lines for someone who’ll swallow them.” Vivian bit her lip, then muttered under her breath, “So petty. Such a faded old hag.” I almost laughed at that. Instead, I pulled out my phone and dialed a number. Then I turned and walked in the direction of the other end of the city. Toward the kitchen of our very first pizzeria. Toward the recipe I had spent ten years perfecting — tested hundreds of times, refined over and over. When Ethan proposed, I told him I had no dowry. He said it didn’t matter. He said I was the finest dowry there was. Now I finally understood what he really meant. My recipe was my dowry. And since I was never his lawful wife — it was time to take it back.

The cab pulled up outside the flagship restaurant. The hostess at the front desk gave me a quiet nod as I walked in. “Ms. Nora.” I nodded back and walked straight upstairs to the general manager’s office. I went to the safe and, out of reflex, typed in my birthday. “Incorrect password.” I paused. My fingers trembled slightly as I tried again — our anniversary. “Incorrect password.” I stared at the keypad. An image of Vivian’s personnel file surfaced in my mind. With a kind of masochistic calm, I pressed her birthday. Click. The safe opened. A quiet laugh escaped me. For years, no matter how many locations we opened, the core sauce had been made by my hands alone. Each branch sent a driver to collect it from this kitchen every single day. Ethan and Vivian had seized control of the company’s operations and finances. But they had forgotten what actually kept this chain alive. I removed everything from the safe. Then I walked to the kitchen, picked up a bucket of grimy dishwater and waste grease from beside the sink, and without hesitation, poured every drop into the stock pots. A chain without a soul. Enjoy what’s left of it. On my way out, I passed the culture wall — a display of framed photographs running the length of the hallway. In the center was a photo of Ethan and me. I walked over, tore it down, and dropped it in the trash. Before it even settled, a woman’s voice drifted in from the doorway — unhurried, almost leisurely. “Nora. You don’t seriously think throwing a tantrum is going to make Ethan feel guilty for everything he put you through, do you?” I turned. Vivian stood at the entrance of the dining hall, every hair in place, a studied kind of elegance about her — and in her gaze, open satisfaction she wasn’t bothering to hide. “Though I understand, I suppose. Anyone in your shoes would be upset.” “After all this time with him, all those years — and then you find out you have no legal standing at all. That’s genuinely pathetic.” I said nothing. Something in her seemed to relax — like she’d been waiting for exactly this moment. The careful act she’d maintained began to slip away. “You know, I used to respect you. Genuinely.” She smiled, slow and deliberate. “A woman who grinds alongside a man from absolute zero to something real — that takes grit.” “But grit is one thing. Whether you belong at his side is another.” She paused, then dropped her voice. “The position of Mrs. Caldwell was never yours to begin with.” I studied the satisfaction written all over Vivian’s face and felt only a faint, dry amusement. “So what?” “You came all the way here to stake your claim?” Vivian smiled lightly. “Does it even need staking? The registry is real. The hospital signature is real. The safe combination is real. And Ethan himself said I’d be handling all finances going forward. All real.” Her gaze dropped deliberately to my empty hands. “Nora. You sacrificed so much for him. But you should understand by now — in business, what counts is capital, management, resources, connections. Not who knows how to stir a pot of sauce.” Each sentence landed soft and even, but every word had an edge. I looked at her. “Are you proud of yourself right now?” Vivian blinked, as though she hadn’t expected that. Then she smiled — a full, unguarded smile, satisfaction flooding every feature. “Why wouldn’t I be?” “The man you spent years on — he’s my husband.” “The restaurants you poured yourself into — they’re mine to run now.” “You don’t even have the right to put your own child under his name. But me? I’m the legally recognized Mrs. Caldwell.” She let that sit, as if exhaling years of something held back. “Nora. I won.” I looked at her and smiled. “You think because you have the marriage certificate, the company seal, and the keys to the operation — that means you’ve won?” “Vivian. Why don’t you go check the kitchen first? Let’s talk about what you’ve actually inherited.”

Her pupils contracted sharply. She spun toward the back of the house. The restaurant manager, Daniel, appeared in the doorway — face drained of color, mouth working soundlessly before he finally got the words out. “Ms. Marsh… the sauce. All of it. It’s ruined.” “We have reservations tonight — what are we supposed to do?” The triumph on Vivian’s face cracked open. “Are you out of your mind?!” “Nora, that’s company property!” “Company property?” I laughed, just barely. “That recipe was mine. Five years of trials. Hundreds of batches. Ethan himself wouldn’t dare call it company property — and yet here you are, claiming it?” “Besides—” I let my gaze drift over her suddenly ashen face. “Weren’t you the one who said times have changed? That business runs on capital, management, resources, connections — not on who can stir a pot of sauce?” “So why the panic?” Vivian’s breath came fast and shallow. She was staring at me with pure, cornered fury. “Nora. You think destroying the sauce gives you power over us?” “When Ethan wakes up, he will not let this go.” “Is that so?” I nodded, almost pleasantly. “Good. Then when he does, pass along a message for me.” I reached into my bag and set a sealed envelope on the front counter — the letter I had already written. “I’m done with him.” “This restaurant. This man. This rotten wreck of a relationship. Whoever wants to pick up the pieces is welcome to them.” I had barely gotten home when my phone rang. The screen showed: Ethan Caldwell. I answered. Ethan’s voice came through — low, barely controlled, like a man trying to hold a fire inside his chest. “Nora. Have you lost your mind?” I leaned back in my seat, voice even. “Something you needed?” He clearly hadn’t expected that. A beat of silence, and then the anger came harder. “Something I needed? You took the recipe. You know how many tables we have booked tonight? You just walked out and want to watch every location go dark?” “Isn’t that what you’re good at? Management, capital, connections. One less person stirring sauce shouldn’t even register. You’ll be fine.” A sharp pause on the other end. Then a cold laugh. “You’re still sulking over the marriage certificate?” “Nora, when did you get so small?” I closed my eyes for a moment. The urge to laugh rose and died in the same breath. Even now, he thought I was sulking. “Ethan.” I kept my voice quiet. “You lied to me for eight years. In your mind — that makes me petty?” “What lie? Everything you ate, wore, used — I provided it. Did I ever let you go without? You had it good with me, Nora. Was that not enough?” “A marriage certificate is just paper. What matters is that you were by my side. I let everyone call you the boss’s wife. Wasn’t that enough?” My hand tightened around the phone, knuckle by knuckle. Yes. That was Ethan. He never believed he had done anything wrong. In his mind, a woman only ever wanted a little face-saving, a little money, a little of whatever affection a man chose to hand down. As for legal standing, genuine respect, honesty — that was her being ungrateful. “All right. I won’t push this further.” “Give the recipe back. Come to the hospital and apologize to Vivian. We’ll pretend today never happened.” I almost thought I’d misheard him. “Apologize to her?” “Shouldn’t you?” Ethan’s voice rose. “The way you carried on at the restaurant today — destroying every last batch of sauce, humiliating her in front of the whole staff. She’s a wreck right now. She hasn’t stopped crying.” “Nora, when did you become so cruel?”

Watch👉 https://cps-front.novelix.live/app-api/ext/new/20260701ax4qgaeCy2 🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “Novelix” app 🔍 search for “ni528054”, and watch the full series ✨! #Novelix

I had just completed the mate-bonding ceremony with Caden Voss, the future Alpha, the most coveted male in the pack, when my adopted sister Rena drove her car straight into me. The impact shattered my ovaries. The pack’s finest healer, my own mother, Dr. Elena Ashton, said both were beyond saving. They had to be fully removed. Caden’s howl of anguish shook the hospital walls. “It doesn’t matter! I just need my mate alive!” Mom and my brother Eli stood red-eyed, gripping my hands. “Easy now. Close your eyes. We have the best healers, the strongest herbs. Sleep, and the pain will pass.” In my most broken moment, I was grateful that everyone I loved was by my side. Then the anesthesia began to pull me under, and through the gap in the door, I heard them talking in the hall. Mom’s voice carried a thin edge of excitement. “Mara is healthy. Compatible blood type, right age. While we have her under, we take her heart and transplant it into Rena.” Dad, the pack’s Beta, agreed without a pause. “I’ve already had the security footage of Rena’s car deleted. Mara won’t ever know.” Eli’s voice, smooth and clinical. “I’ll synthesize a compound. Even with a damaged heart, Mara won’t suffer visibly.” A moment of silence. Then Caden’s voice — and the relief in it turned my blood to ice. “Rena loves to run, loves to travel. She needs a strong heart. As for Mara… we’ll make it up to her someday. I’ll go sign the surgical consent forms now.” I felt myself falling — not into sleep, but into a void with no floor. My heart ached as though the blade had already found it. 【System Alert: Host — your Cannon Fodder task has been completed. Heartbreak index has reached 100%. Do you wish to return to your original world immediately?】 I laughed. And then I wept. Their love — every tender look, every careful touch — I didn’t want any of it anymore. … I fought to roll off the surgical table. A nurse shoved a breathing tube down my throat and flooded my veins with sedative. As consciousness collapsed, I glimpsed Rena being wheeled in through the doors. Mom raised her scalpel and murmured to the nurses with calm precision. “Don’t bother stabilizing Mara’s ovaries damage. Extract the heart first. Rena’s transplant takes priority.” I felt the blade part my chest layer by layer, and in the last seconds before the dark swallowed me whole, Mom’s voice drifted in, soft and tender. “Hold on a little longer, baby girl. When you wake up, you’ll be able to run again. Run as far as you want.” She was talking to Rena. … When awareness flickered back, I confirmed everything with the system at once. 【Only if the host body dies: automatic return to the original world. Your congenital heart defect will be fully healed. One hundred million in bounty will be deposited to your linked account. Confirmed.】 How laughable. I had been so relieved that even after years lost to a rival pack’s captivity, I hadn’t lost my family’s love. That Caden had searched for me, proposed the moment I returned. And all along, they only kept me breathing because they needed my heart. I pulled the oxygen tube from my throat without a second’s hesitation. Breathing became agony. My face darkened to violet. The monitors screamed red. But I was smiling. Better to die than stay and look at them. Mom burst through the door with a team behind her, howling my name. She performed CPR with her bare hands and forced the tube back in. When I was stable, she glared at me with bloodshot eyes. “Mara! Why would you — it’s only your ovaries. You can still live a full life. You can’t—” I pressed a hand to the wound in my chest and rasped: “Is it really only my ovaries?” Caden fell to his knees, slapping his own face over and over. “Honey — blame me. When the car came, I didn’t shield you. I let you get hurt. The driver’s already in custody, I swear I’ll—” “You found a heart donor for Rena already, didn’t you?” he added, turning to Mom. “She’s going to be all right?” Dad’s voice was hollow. “We’ve contacted every pack healer in the country. We’ll find you a new heart soon, Mara. I promise.” Eli touched my shoulder gently. “I’m going back to the lab right now. I’ll engineer something custom. You’ll breathe just like anyone else.” How laughable. Three sentences to smooth over Rena running me down, destroying my body, and stealing my heart. I curved my lips into something that was almost a smile. “Where’s Rena? I want to speak with her myself. I saw her face when they brought her in.” Mom’s brow knotted. “How dare you accuse your sister. She was with me in the healer’s ward when you were hit — she nearly had a heart episode just from the shock of hearing you’d been injured. We found her a donor just in time.” “You found a donor at the exact same moment my heart failed,” I said. “What a coincidence.” The room went very still. “Mara…” Mom started. I was too tired. I pulled the blanket over my head. When I surfaced, only Caden remained, watching me with an expression I used to believe was love. I smiled at him. “Go check on Rena. Come back and tell me how she’s doing.” He left without hesitating. Alone at last, I exhaled slowly and reached for my phone with trembling hands. The system had promised to grant me one wish in exchange for completing its KPIs. Before they’d wheeled me into the OR, I’d spent that wish on two recordings. I watched them now, rigid, replaying every second of how they’d planned to hollow me out. Every word my mother had spoken while cutting into my chest. Every degree of warmth drained from my body. I was suddenly very glad I hadn’t died. Because leaving this easily would be far too generous to them.

During my recovery, they took turns sitting with me — one at a time, never long, always finding an excuse to rush away. I assumed they were simply busy. Pack Betas and Alpha heirs didn’t have idle hours. Then came the afternoon I needed the bathroom and no one was there. I dragged my IV stand down the hall alone. Through the glass of the VIP recovery suite, I stopped. Caden, who had just claimed an urgent pack council session, was feeding Rena a prawn dumpling with his fingers, laughing at something she’d said. My parents and Eli were all there, watching her with the soft, helpless adoration I used to think was reserved for me. Mom’s voice filtered through the glass, warmly scolding. “Rena, you can’t gorge yourself the moment you’re healed. Dumplings are too rich.” Rena tipped her head back like a contented cub. “I can’t help it. Dad makes them too well.” She pouted. “And all of you hovering around me is suffocating. How am I supposed to sneak snacks with four sets of eyes on me?” For three days, I’d been eating takeout congee I ordered myself. Rena had them there every hour, with Dad cooking her meals from scratch. I turned away stiffly and nearly walked into the nurses’ station. Through the partition, two nurses were whispering. “You know the patient in 302? The one everyone calls the real daughter? Dr. Ashton specifically told me to keep her on extra nutrition supplements — building her up like a reserve. If Rena has a serious rejection episode, they’ll need a full blood exchange from her.” I stood in the corridor for a long time, not moving. My heart — the damaged, borrowed thing still beating in my chest — felt like it was cracking open again. Why had it come to this? There was a time when Mom would panic if I so much as scraped my knee. She had driven herself into advanced healer certification just to take better care of me. Dad had built the Ashton name from nothing, so I’d never go without treatment. Eli had chosen pharmacology so my medicine wouldn’t taste bitter. They had even sheltered Caden’s family from a rival pack’s ambush — and that act of loyalty was how he and I first became entangled. All of Northveil Pack had known it: the Ashton heir was cherished beyond reason. And Caden Voss had loved me since we were young. Then I was stolen — held by a rival pack for seven years. When I came home, they held my hands and said, “Rena being here means nothing. We took her in to build good karma for you. You are still our only heart.” I believed them. I opened myself to Rena as a sister. But the warmth shifted slowly, then all at once. If Rena stumbled near me, Mom’s first question was whether I had pushed her. When Dad cooked, every dish was Rena’s favourite. Eli redirected his entire research toward a cure for Rena’s heart condition. And Caden, in arguments, once snapped at me to be more like Rena — gentler, sweeter, less difficult. Now they had carved my heart out to give it to her. And they planned to keep me alive as a walking blood reserve. The grief hit like claws raking through the chest. I wasn’t careful. I slipped. The fall cracked my surgical wounds open. I curled on the floor, gasping, and in a moment of pure instinct whimpered a single word into the tile. “Mom…” They came running — all four of them, the sound of their footsteps filling the hallway. Mom reached me first. She hauled me upright and fixed me with a furious stare. “Mara. I am so disappointed in you. You saw us with Rena, and now you’re throwing yourself on the floor for attention? You’re a grown wolf.”

Back at the Ashton estate, I was confined to a wheelchair under close watch. The pack healers had strict orders: I was not to harm myself again. Rena, meanwhile, was sprinting laps around the back courtyard in a pair of joggers, laughing as she went. Dad was out there too, passing her the ball, grinning the way I hadn’t seen him grin in years. Caden filmed her on his phone. Mom watched from the edge of the terrace with the look she used to reserve for me. I turned my wheelchair toward the garden path. “Ow!” Rena went down — a stumble, a sharp cry, grass-stained knees. All four of them surged to her side. Rena twisted and pointed at something on the ground near my chair. A small metal locking pin — fallen from the wheel assembly long before this moment. Her eyes filled. “Mara… I know you resent me for getting the transplant. I know you’re still in pain.” Her voice broke. “But I finally get to run. I finally get to feel what other wolves feel. How could you try to take that from me?” Mom crouched and examined Rena’s reddened shin with gentle hands. Dad looked at me with an expression like he’d bitten into something rotten. The vein at his temple pulsed. “Mara. We did not raise you to be this. What happened to you?” They looked at me the way wolves look at a rogue. Like I was something that needed to be dealt with. “I didn’t,” I said, my voice hollow. “That pin has been loose for days—” “Don’t make excuses.” Dad raised his hand. It swung toward my face. Caden caught his wrist. “Mara’s been through too much. Give her time.” Eli’s gaze cooled as it landed on me. “Fine. Rena’s been wanting to try that new private dining room downtown. We’ll celebrate her recovery.” He glanced back, expressionless. “You stay here and think about what you’ve done.” Caden hesitated. He looked at me, then at Rena — who grabbed his hand and swung it like a child, tilting her face up at him. “Come with us? You promised.” Caden patted my head. “Be good. I’ll bring back the seafood chowder you like.” I woke at 3 a.m. The bed beside mine was untouched. Caden had not come home. The whole estate was dark, except for one room — Rena’s. The door was slightly ajar. As I wheeled closer, a woman’s muffled, breathless voice bled through the gap. Caden’s voice came next, low and cracked with want. “You got the transplant. So when are you going to leave her? When?” “You’re the one I love. But Mara saved my life once — I can’t abandon her. And besides,” Rena’s voice softened, “if you have a rejection episode, we still need her blood.” “She can’t carry pups now. She can’t be a real mate. What does an Alpha heir need with a barren wolf?” I leaned against the cold wall outside that room for the rest of the night. Inside, they laughed. They whispered. They were tender with each other in a way I had believed was mine. When morning light came and the estate began to stir, I waited. I waited until all four of them passed through the hallway at the same moment. Then I threw open Rena’s door. In front of every witness, I ripped the sheets back and raised my phone.

Watch👉 https://cps-front.novelix.live/app-api/ext/new/20260701KRBDFXJqb2 🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “Novelix” app 🔍 search for “ni956455”, and watch the full series ✨! #Novelix

I was six months pregnant when I found torn lace lingerie stuffed under the mattress — it wasn’t mine. I went to confront my mate, but overheard him talking to a packmate instead. “The Prince’s bonding ceremony with Ivy is in seven days. You already marked her — what’s your plan?” Kael’s voice was ice. “If anyone finds out she’s already been marked, she’s dead — I won’t let her face it alone.” “Selene’s father and brother died defending the kingdom — the Lycan King promised her family could be pardoned for any crime. Have Ivy accuse Ryan publicly.” Calm. Every word poison. I bit my lip until I tasted blood, and the mate bond in my chest shredded. In my previous life, at the Luna Queen’s Celebration, Kael’s childhood sweetheart stumbled out half-naked, sobbing that my brother had forced his mark on her. The noble she-wolves couldn’t wait to spit on the Blackwood name. “Ivy is the Prince’s chosen mate — that Blackwood boy dared mark her? Beat him to death!” I invoked the pardon — the one my father and brother earned with their lives — and begged. The King honored his promise and spared Ryan, ordering him to mate Ivy instead. Then Kael shattered both my brother’s legs in front of everyone. He whispered, “If the King doesn’t vent now, he’ll kill your brother later.” We swallowed it — but seven months later, that she-wolf birthed a nine-pound pup. Ryan howled, “I never touched her!” He’d screamed it a thousand times — no one believed him, they called him a coward. He grabbed the pup and crawled toward the King’s hall to prove his innocence — Kael knocked him out cold from behind. I tried to scream — his hand closed around my throat. “Make a scene, and Ivy and the child are ruined,” he hissed. His eyes were murderous as he strangled me to death — his own Luna, days from giving birth. I woke up — the Moon Goddess sent me back to the night of the Celebration. This time, I tied Ryan with silver chains and locked him in the east wing. Ivy still claimed someone had raped her.

Ivy smashed her forehead against the Hall’s stone pillar, bleeding, shaking, sobbing in the women’s arms. “I bear another’s mark — I’ve betrayed the Prince — I’ve shamed the Ashfords — let me die!” Everyone glared at me like I was filth. “The Blackwood family is feral. They think killing a few rogues at the border gives them the right to ravage the Prince’s future mate.” “Riding on daddy’s war glory to do whatever the fuck they want. It’s pure lawlessness!” “My Goddess. If they’re this bold in the capital, imagine how many helpless she-wolves they’ve forced themselves on at the border!” I looked at the man shielding Ivy — my mate, Alpha Kael. I kept my voice flat. “Ivy, are you sure it was my brother?” She stiffened, tears pouring harder. “I’m already marked by him — why humiliate me — let me die!” She lunged for the pillar — the women dragged her back. Kael wrenched me aside, his face twisted with fury. “Your brother acts worse than a Rogue, and you bully the victim?” “Your father bled for the Blackwood name — you two destroyed it.” His grip bruised bone. I let out a cold laugh. Half an hour ago, I’d chained Ryan up myself — silver restraints, locked in the east wing. How the hell could he have gotten out to mark Ivy? I looked Kael dead in the eyes. “Are you sure it was my brother?” His jaw clenched. “I knocked the bastard out and tied him up myself — I pulled him off Ivy. You think I can’t recognize my own brother-in-law?” My stomach dropped. His certainty unsettled me — could Ryan have somehow broken free? “Selene, how long will you keep bullying this poor girl!” An elder she-wolf snapped at me. “You’re Kael’s mate — instead of standing by your mate, you shield your worthless brother.” “You even slander this poor girl!” I scoffed and swept my gaze across the self-righteous crowd. “So no matter what, whether Ivy actually lost her purity or not, my brother takes the blame.” “You —!” Ivy looked like I’d slapped her, tears rolling down. She pulled a blood-stained cloth from her dress and hurled it at my feet, voice cracking like she was coughing up her own soul. “I was a pure, unmated she-wolf — am I some cheap bitch who’d lie about this?” “If the Blackwoods won’t take responsibility, I’ll die right here — I’d rather be dead than tied to your filthy name!” She spun and lunged for the pillar — the women scrambled to hold her back.

“Stupid girl, don’t!” “It’s that Blackwood scum’s fault, not yours!” “You’ve suffered enough — don’t throw your life away for that bastard!” They comforted Ivy while glaring daggers at me. “Ivy is the Prince’s future mate!” “Your little pack thinks it’s something special? Why would she ruin herself to frame you?” Kael grabbed my wrist, putting on his concerned-husband act. “Selene, enough.” “Just accept it — prepare the mating gifts, go to the Ashfords, propose on Ryan’s behalf, and beg the King for mercy.” “The King might still spare his life. Otherwise, marking the Prince’s chosen mate — your brother will be killed by the King’s anger.” Last life, I believed his words. I believed Ryan had lost control, so I handed over half the Blackwood fortune as a mating gift and treated Ivy like a queen. Then she birthed a bastard at seven months and destroyed my entire family. My stomach turned. I ripped my arm from his grip. “The Blackwoods will never mate Ryan to that woman. Not in this life.” Kael’s face went cold, his eyes turning savage. Before he could speak, the crowd parted. Ivy’s father, Elder Ashford, stormed in. His face was purple with rage, body shaking — he walked straight to Ivy and cracked her across the face. She hit the ground hard, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. “Shameless bitch — you still have the nerve to breathe?” “Servants! Drag this filthy thing out and snap her neck — she’s disgraced the Ashford name!” Two Ashford wolves stepped forward. “Don’t bother — I’ll do it myself.” Ivy yanked a hairpin from her head and drove it straight toward her own throat. The crowd erupted. Screams, grabbing, pulling. “Selene! Are you just going to stand there and watch?” “If your brother hadn’t done this, Ivy wouldn’t be trying to kill herself!” “Your brother ruined a girl’s life — can you live with that?” I watched the whole show in silence. Ivy’s eyes flashed with something vicious — she gripped the pin and stabbed it into her neck. Blood gushed instantly. The women screamed. “She’s dead — the Blackwoods killed her!” Kael’s face went white — he lunged forward and ripped the pin from Ivy’s hand. “Healer! Get the healer now!” He tore a strip from his sleeve and pressed it against her throat. Ivy lay in their arms, weak, blinking — her eyes drifted to me. No death wish in them. Just a flicker of victory. Once Ivy was carried away, Kael stormed toward me. “Bitch!” He snarled, and backhanded me across the face. I stumbled and hit the ground. My palms scraped the cold stone, skin splitting open. The left side of my face burned, my ear ringing. Kael pointed down at me, eyes full of venom. “You heartless cunt — you wanted her dead, didn’t you?” “I won’t share my life with a cold-blooded she-wolf like you! I’m rejecting you today!” Everyone cheered like it was a holiday.

Watch👉 https://cps-front.novelix.live/app-api/ext/new/20260701VYmRCoXYj6 🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “Novelix” app 🔍 search for “ni121802”, and watch the full series ✨! #Novelix