u/Full_Worldliness1480

Chapter 1
On Thanksgiving, I slaved over a feast, eagerly awaiting Edward's return. But he barely glanced at the spread, heading straight for his luggage. "I won't be spending Thanksgiving with you this year," he stated coolly.
I stayed quiet, picking at the pulled pork on my plate.
At midnight, Ruby, his ex, posted a photo on Instagram. She was glowing, perched on Edward's back, a full moon gleaming through the window behind them. Her caption: "Toasting the moon, two shadows merge."
I didn’t bombard with questions as I might have before; instead, I simply hit 'like' on the post.
Edward called, sounding uneasy. "Don’t overthink it. I promise next Thanksgiving we’ll spend together…"
I paused, then chuckled softly without responding.
Next time?
Oh, Edward.
There won’t be a next time.
---
When Edward came back, Thanksgiving was long gone. I used to wait for him in our garden, but not anymore.
He texted, "Where are you?"
I was finishing lunch and casually replied, "Just eating at home."
Edward walked in, dragging his suitcase. As he changed his shoes, he said, "I’m starving. Whip me up some pasta and a soft-boiled egg."
In the past, I’d rush to the kitchen without hesitation, but this time I coolly responded, "I’ve eaten. You should order takeout."
Edward shot me a displeased look but swallowed his annoyance. "I know you’re still upset about Thanksgiving, but can we drop it for now? I’m really hungry."
I met his gaze and smiled faintly, "I’m not upset."
He didn’t buy it. "Ruby was alone in New York, and it just happened to be Thanksgiving. I was just being a good host."
I replied calmly, "I know."
Edward searched my eyes, trying to decipher my thoughts, then looked down, suppressing his frustration. "Does this really have to be such a big deal? I’m exhausted and not in the mood for a fight. Can you just be reasonable?"
Meeting his gaze, I patiently explained, "I’m not fighting. Are you done? I need to do the dishes."
Edward stood silently for a moment, then pulled a necklace from his pocket and handed it to me. "A gift," he said simply.
The necklace lacked packaging, a sharp contrast to the beautifully wrapped one Ruby flaunted on Instagram. I didn’t show any excitement, just politely said, "Thank you."
That was it.
Edward's eyes flashed with irritation, and he asked sharply, "Is that all?"
I replied serenely, "That’s all."
His expression darkened as he extended his hand expectantly, "And mine?"
It was then I remembered and apologized, "Sorry, I forgot. I’ll send you a gift card. Buy whatever you like."
I grabbed my phone and sent him a $30 gift card. Edward's eyes widened in disbelief, as if stunned I could forget. After all, I cherished traditions, and exchanging holiday gifts was our custom. Over the years, I upheld this tradition, always delighting Edward with presents, even when he occasionally forgot to reciprocate.
The air grew uncomfortably silent. I went to the closet to change and headed for the door.
Edward called out urgently, "Where are you going?"
I answered with calm indifference, "Meeting a friend."
I closed the door behind me, ignoring his calls.
Being with Edward, his disapproval of my social life led me to decline invitations, and my friends saw me as dull. They knew I was tightly controlled at home, so they stopped inviting me.
Now, I finally get to enjoy a lively gathering with my friends.

Chapter 1
"You lost a pup, so you won't be able to shift for a while. Stay somewhere safe."
[Alaric: My Beta said Sereia came to the hospital. Is she sick?]
The healer's voice and my future Alpha's voice hit me at the same time.
But there were only two of us in that room. Me and the healer.
[Kell: Did you really have to bring Delilah with you? You know her mother forged the proof that killed Sereia's mother. She hates Delilah more than anyone alive.]
[Alaric: Then let her yell at me. I just want her to talk to me.]
I shook my head. Kell is Alaric's wolf. There was no way I could hear what he was thinking.
Then I stepped out the door and saw Alaric standing there with Delilah, my father's daughter by his mistress.
Delilah's face folded into a perfect apology.
"Sereia, my heat came early, so I asked Alaric to bring me to the hospital. You don't mind, right?"
I opened my mouth.
Before one word came out, his voice crashed into my head again.
[Alaric: I'm standing here with the one she hates most. How does she have no reaction at all?]
[Kell: Three days without a word from her. I'm losing my mind too.]
I closed my mouth, turned around, and walked to the car.
Delilah got to the passenger seat before I did.
"My heat needs an Alpha's scent to settle. The back seat is too far away for me."
Alaric got into the driver's seat. "Sereia, you're her sister. Try to understand her."
I let go of the handle, turned away, and got in the back.
The door shut with a heavy thud.
Silence filled the car.
Alaric's knuckles went white on the wheel.
Then his voice rang inside my head again.
[Alaric: She took the back seat without a word. Does she really not care about me anymore?]
Delilah gave me a strange look and glanced at Alaric's white knuckles.
Tears rose in her eyes right on time.
"Never mind, Alaric. I will sit in the back."
She actually pushed the door open and set one foot on the ground.
He shot his hand out and caught her wrist.
"Who said you could sit in the back?"
Delilah looked over her shoulder at me, her eyes wet and pitiful.
She bit her lip and pulled weakly against his hold.
"Alaric, let go. Let me move."
"Look at her. Sereia is angry."
I lifted my head.
"I'm not angry. Keep the front seat."
Both of them went still.
[Alaric: She's not angry? No way. She must be saying that to punish me.]
[Kell: Nobody could mean it. Not after what you just did.]
[Alaric: Sereia, tell me you hate this. Tell me to throw her out of my car. Just tell me you need me. Please.]
So...
This was what ran through his head every time he picked a fight with me.
Did he know what our text argument three days ago had cost me?
Did he know I went backward down a full flight of stairs?
I pressed my hand flat against my belly and kept my eyes on Delilah.
"Sit."
Alaric stared at me.
His fingers shook slightly around Delilah's wrist.
Delilah noticed.
She pressed her lips together and pushed his hand away.
"Never mind, Alaric. I will call a car. I don't want to be a burden to anyone."
Then she turned to me with a sorry look.
"I apologize, Sereia. I shouldn't have asked for your Alpha's help during my heat. That was out of line."
"I'm leaving right now."
Her fingers fumbled uselessly at the seatbelt.
Alaric pulled her straight back into the seat.
He glared at me through the mirror.
"Sereia, does the whole world have to bow to you?"
"I already said she could stay in the front."
"Who is this act for? You know she is fragile, and you still use this method to force her out."
I stared at him in disbelief.
"You..."
"Please stop! Please stop fighting for me!"
Delilah waved her hands in a panic.
"This is all my fault. I shouldn't have gone into heat today. If you two fight over me, I will never forgive myself."
"Alaric, I am calling a car!"
This time the seatbelt clicked open.
She put one foot on the pavement.
"Stay where you are."
His fingers locked around her wrist again.
He looked at me with red at the edges of his eyes.
"Sereia, she's in heat. She needs help."
He ground the words out, like I had done something unforgivable.
I looked straight back at him.
"Which is exactly why I didn't make her move. Isn't it?"
"You..."
The words died in his mouth.
He met my flat, empty stare.
A hard laugh broke out of him.
"No wonder your father always chose Delilah over you."
I stopped breathing.
Chapter 2
The words hit me like a slap.
I never expected Alaric to say something like that.
Even in our most explosive arguments, he had never used my family pain against me. He knew exactly what it meant to me.
My mother had been driven to an early grave by my father's mistress. Then my father dragged his illegitimate daughter into our home and forced me to play "sister."
It was an open wound that never healed.
Alaric watched my face, studying every twitch of my expression.
My blood boiled. I opened my mouth to snap at him.
Then a frantic voice echoed inside my head.
[Alaric: I even used this to provoke her. She has to talk back to me now, right?]
[Alaric: Her eyes are turning red... Kell, I'm such a bastard.]
[Kell: You planned this. Don't cry about it now.]
[Alaric: I'm sorry, Sereia. I'm losing my mind. I want to make up with you. I want to hear your voice. I need to know what happened these past three days.]
[Alaric: Please. Just give me some reaction. Let me know you still care about me.]
All the words caught in my throat.
Alaric watched my lips part and close again.
A brief, desperate spark of joy flared in his eyes. Then he masked it with a sneer of absolute disdain.
I paused and swallowed all my words.
I turned my head away, avoiding his gaze.
"You're right."
A suffocating silence slammed into the car.
[Alaric: What did she say? How could she say something like that?]
[Alaric: She's supposed to scream at me, tear into me for letting Delilah sit in the front seat, rip me apart for using the things she gave me.]
[Alaric: Does she really not care about me anymore? Does it not matter to her what I do?]
[Alaric: Sereia... I'm begging you...]
I kept my head down and calmly started reading the messages on my phone.
Alaric waited, but got nothing.
He gritted his teeth. His knuckles turned bone-white as he gripped the steering wheel.
"Sit tight. We're leaving."
Delilah pulled her seatbelt across her chest and shot me a sharp, suspicious glance.
Chapter 3
The car sped down the highway.
No one said a word.
Delilah broke the silence first.
"Um, Sereia, I'm really sorry about Elowen."
My thumb froze over my phone.
Elowen.
My mother.
"We only wanted to force her to give up Dad. Who would have thought she'd actually die of the Rejection?"
"Honestly, my mom and I have felt terrible for years. We always wanted to make it up to you."
"We just never found a way."
"There is a way." I lowered my phone.
"Why don't you and your mother go die together?"
Delilah's eyes instantly welled up. "Sereia... w-what did you just say?"
"I said." I stared at her coldly. "You and your mother can go die together. Drop the fake act."
My body violently jerked forward.
Alaric slammed on the brakes.
"Sereia, get out."
I froze.
Delilah covered her mouth. Her shoulders shook as she sobbed.
"What did you say?" I asked.
"I said." Alaric looked at me coldly through the rearview mirror.
"Get out. I don't give rides to someone like you."
"She started it first!"
My breath came fast. The anger finally broke out.
[Alaric: Finally...]
The voice echoed in my head.
[Alaric: She's finally showing some emotion toward me...]
[Kell: I knew this trick would work.]
I ground my teeth. "Alaric, stop joking!"
"I'm not joking."
Alaric twisted in his seat. A confident smirk played on his lips.
"Either you get out, or you apologize to Delilah."
I clenched my fists. "Did you hear what she just said?"
Alaric stayed silent.
"She brought up my dead mother! And you want me to apologize?!"
Delilah's cries grew even more pitiful.
"Sereia, I really just wanted to say I'm sorry..."
The second the tears fell, the coldness on Alaric's face deepened.
"Sereia, you have three seconds. Get out, or apologize."
"Alaric, we're on the highway..."
"Then apologize."
I locked eyes with him.
A sharp ringing filled my ears. His voice flooded my head again.
[Alaric: Don't cry, Sereia. Please, don't look at me like that. I really can't keep this act up.]
[Alaric: You looking at me like this is driving me insane.]
[Alaric: Please, just give in. Just this once. I'll throw Delilah out right now and beg for your forgiveness.]
[Alaric: Please, I can't take this anymore.]
"Speak."
His voice came out low and freezing. It was nothing like the panic in his head.
"Three. Two..."
He watched me in the mirror.
Click.
The door opened.
His breath caught.
I stepped straight out of the car.
"Sereia!"
Chapter 4
Alaric's shouts echoed down the road.
I ignored him.
I kept walking.
The car pulled up beside me.
"Sereia Vex! Stop right there!"
[Alaric: She actually got out?!]
[Alaric: Didn't she just get out of the hospital? Damn it, I don't even know what happened to her!]
[Alaric: I just want to ask her what's wrong!]
[Alaric: She's walking straight into the freezing wind. Does she really not care that she was just sick?]
[Alaric: Turn around! Turn around, Sereia!]
"Sereia!"
The car jerked in front of me, blocking my path.
His breath came in ragged bursts. Red lined the corners of his eyes.
"Se—"
[Kell: Forget it. Maybe we should just give in.]
[Alaric: You're right, Kell. Seeing her like this is killing me.]
"What is it?"
I stared at him. My gaze was cold and steady.
His lips parted.
"Since you want to act so tough, then..." He pointed at my clothes.
"I bought that. Take it off before you leave."
My breath caught.
A gust of biting wind whipped past. I pulled the coat tighter around myself.
"Alaric, we're on the main road. It's almost winter!"
Alaric leaned one arm on the open window.
"You don't have to give it back. Just apologize."
I froze.
He glared at me.
[Kell: What the hell are you talking about?]
[Alaric: I didn't even mean to say it... Just say you're wrong! Say it! Please, I'm begging you—stop this!]
"Three, two..."
I ripped the coat off and hurled it straight through the car window.
Alaric froze.
"Happy now? Leave!"
My breath came in short gasps.
Alaric's knuckles turned white as he gripped the fabric.
It was the same coat he had saved for months to buy me back when he had nothing but hunger and a dream of becoming Alpha.
It was also the coat that carried his scent. The only thing that kept rogues away from me in the neutral zone.
He let out a sharp sneer.
"Is that the only piece?"
I stiffened.
He held my gaze. "What about what's underneath?"
I wrapped my arms around myself.
"Your shirt, your pants. Didn't I pick out every single piece for you?"
"I..." I pressed my lips tight to stop my teeth from chattering.
"Alaric, don't do this. I'll find a way to pay you back when we get home. Just pretend you sold them to me."
"Your father picked Delilah as his Alpha heir and everything goes to her. What money do you even have to pay me back?"
I turned to stone.
Back then, when I faced this exact kind of pressure, he had said:
"If your father makes things hard for you, I refuse to let you suffer!"
"I swear, when I become Alpha one day, I'll make every wolf envy you!"
I locked eyes with him.
"Do you really have to make things so hard for me?!"
"You're the one making things hard for Delilah!"
Heat flared behind my eyes.
A heavy silence fell between us.
"Take it!"
I stripped the clothes off.
This left me in nothing but a thin bra on top.
I balled up the shirt and hurled it hard into his face.
"Is that enough?!"
He went completely rigid.
[Kell: Are you out of your damn mind? This is the neutral zone! She's not safe here!]
A long moment passed.
He swallowed. "The boots."
I kicked them off without a second thought and tossed them through the window.
He didn't say another word.
The engine revved, and the car sped off.
I stood there barefoot on the frozen ground.
I had nothing but my underwear to cover me from the waist down.
A gust of wind blew past, sending a sharp cramp through my belly.
I couldn't shift because losing my pup wrecked me. My wolf Lyra was still silent inside me.
To make matters worse, my phone was still in his car.
I had no choice but to walk down the side of the road, every step agonizing.
Cars zoomed past from time to time.
Drivers cast curious glances my way.
"Sereia?"
A truck pulled up beside me.
Behind the window, Garrick Slade stared at me.
He was the rogue who had once tried to mark me, the one Alaric ran out of the pack with his tail broken and dumped in the neutral zone.
"Did you... get dumped on the side of the road?"

Chapter 1
The ceremony was minutes away when my mother collapsed, clutching her chest.
I forgot everything else. I rushed her to the ER myself.
But the moment we arrived, a message appeared in our family group chat.
Mom: Clara’s at the hospital. I got her out. The wedding can start now.
Three dots appeared. Then my father replied:
Dad: Done. I’m walking Pearl down the aisle.
A second later, my brother added:
Marcus: Pearl’s waited ten years. She finally gets to marry Ethan for real.
All three messages vanished within seconds.
But my best friend Sophie accidentally forwarded a video into the chat.
In the footage, my sister Pearl was wearing the gown I had chosen myself—the same gown I’d spent six months starving to fit into.
Ethan stood at the altar and slipped the ring meant for me onto her finger.
Every guest who’d hugged me yesterday, who’d told me how beautiful I’d look as a bride, was now chanting in unison:
“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”
My mother snatched the phone from my hands.
The pain had vanished from her face. All that remained was the panic of being exposed.
“Clara, your sister waited for him all these years.”
“She just wanted a wedding of her own.”
“You had Ethan for seven years. Can’t you let her have this one day?”
I stared at the electrode patches still stuck to her chest and let out a laugh that didn’t sound like mine.
They had made their choice.
And from that moment on, I would never again beg any of them to choose me.
……
I made it back to the hotel in time to hear Ethan’s vows.
He was holding Pearl’s hands, his voice steady and sure.
“From the day I met you, every road home leads only to you.”
The air left my lungs.
Those words were mine. I’d written them. Three sleepless nights spent distilling seven years of love into a single sentence.
Last night, Ethan had held me in bed and whispered that he’d say them to no one but me.
Now he was reciting them word for word—without changing a syllable—to my sister.
The applause died the moment the guests saw me.
Ethan released Pearl’s hand immediately, moving toward me on instinct.
“Clara, go back to the hospital.”
“Let me finish here. I’ll explain everything after.”
I rushed forward, my voice cracking apart.
“Explain now.”
“Why is she wearing my dress? Why is she wearing my ring? Why is she standing next to my groom?”
Ethan stepped in front of Pearl, and something cold flickered in his eyes—impatience.
“Because this wedding was always meant for Pearl.”
One sentence. That’s all it took to freeze me in place.
I had spent an entire year planning this wedding.
And Ethan was telling me it was never mine.
His gaze drifted to the diamond tiara anchoring Pearl’s veil. His tone was flat, matter-of-fact.
“That headpiece is the one Pearl picked out months ago. She was overseas and couldn’t come back for the fittings, so I had you try it on for her.”
I stared at him, barely breathing.
“And the dress?”
“Also hers. The gown had been made to Pearl’s measurements from the start.”
My blood ran cold.
That’s why he’d refused to let the tailor adjust the waistline. Why he’d told me to lose weight instead of altering the gown.
For six months, I’d skipped dinner after dinner, forcing my body into a dress that was never designed for me.
And now I understood why.
The real bride had been someone else all along.
……
Pearl looped her arm through Ethan’s and turned to me with a look of tender pity.
“Clara, don’t blame him. I’m the one who asked him to pursue you.”
“I was going overseas for treatment back then. I might never have come back.”
“You’d just been dumped by your ex. You weren’t sleeping, weren’t eating.”
Her eyes softened with perfectly measured compassion.
“I couldn’t stand watching you suffer, so I asked Ethan to take care of you for a while.”
“Those breakfasts he brought to your dorm every morning? I told him exactly what to bring.”
“The restaurant where you had your first date? I chose it.”
“Even the words he used to ask you out—I wrote every single one.”
My throat closed shut.
Ethan had pursued me for ninety-nine days. I’d recorded every small, beautiful moment in my journal—every gesture that made my heart race.
None of it was real. None of it was ever mine.
Sophie walked over in her bridesmaid dress, champagne still in hand.
“Clara, I know keeping this from you was wrong.”
“But Pearl suffered more than you ever did.”
“She watched the man she loved spend seven years by your side and never once tried to tear you apart.”
“She’s been generous enough. Don’t push her.”
I looked at this woman I’d known since childhood.
“So you knew too? This whole time?”
Sophie nodded.
“We were afraid you couldn’t handle it.”
“You’ve always been… intense. If you’d found out Ethan’s heart belonged to Pearl, who knows what you might have done.”
Every single person in that room stood behind my sister.
They watched me with the same guarded expression—as if I weren’t the one who’d been deceived for seven years, but a threat. A woman unhinged enough to destroy her sister’s happiness.
My phone buzzed inside my clutch.
It was the director of the Copenhagen project, who had offered me a long-term position three months earlier.
[Ms. Whitfield, the deadline to accept the Copenhagen assignment is tonight.]
[We’re holding the final seat on the team flight leaving in three days.]

My husband brought his pregnant mistress to our anniversary feast. He seated her in my chair. He called her his fated mate. He ordered me to surrender my Luna title. I signed before he finished speaking. What Lucian didn't know was that his rejection had just unlocked the cage inside my blood.
The great hall fell silent.
Three hundred members of the Silverpine Pack stared as I placed my signature beneath Lucian Blackwood's.
Mara Ashbourne.
For ten years, the name had always been followed by another title.
Luna of Silverpine.
Not anymore.
Across the ceremonial table, Lucian's expression shifted from triumph to suspicion. He had expected tears. Perhaps a public scene. At the very least, he had expected me to beg.
I had begged before.
When photographs of him kissing Celeste Vane appeared across every supernatural news channel, I begged him to deny them.

When he moved into her penthouse in Manhattan, I begged him to come home.
When he froze my adoptive mother's medical account because I exposed the affair, I begged him not to punish an innocent woman.
But tonight, there was nothing left inside me that knew how to kneel.
Celeste rested one manicured hand over her rounded stomach. Moonstones glittered at her throat, and her white gown made her look like an innocent bride rather than a mistress carrying a married Alpha's child.
"How gracious of you," she said softly.
The pack heard sweetness.
I heard victory.
Lucian leaned back in his chair. He looked exactly as he had during every battle we'd survived together-calm, cold, certain the field belonged to him.
"You understand what this means?" he asked.
"Yes."
"The mate bond will be severed. You'll lose pack protection, access to my accounts, and any claim to the Alpha estate."
"Yes."
"You'll leave Blackwood House tonight."
I slid the silver Luna ring from my finger and placed it on the contract.
Its small metallic click echoed through the hall.
"Yes."
A murmur moved through the crowd.
Lucian's gray eyes narrowed. "That's all you have to say?"
I looked at the man I had loved since I was seventeen.
Back then, Lucian had been the unwanted second son of a disgraced Alpha. I had hidden him in my mother's cellar when his uncle's men hunted him. I had sold my
grandmother's necklace to buy silver antidote after he was poisoned. During the Pack Wars, I had driven medical supplies through burning territory while he fought for the throne.
Together, we had turned Silverpine from a starving border pack into the richest territory on the East Coast.
Now he looked at me as if I were an inconvenient old servant.

"I hope she's worth what you're losing," I said.
Celeste laughed.
Lucian didn't.
He rose slowly, power rolling from him. Wolves throughout the hall lowered their heads by instinct.
"Be careful, Mara."
His warning slid over my skin like ice.
"Celeste is carrying my heir. If anything happens to her or the child, there will be nowhere on this continent you can hide."
I should have been afraid.
Instead, heat unfurled beneath my ribs.
It had started the instant I signed the rejection—one bright pulse behind my heart, then another. For thirty years, healers had called me wolfless. Broken. A human accidentally born among wolves.
But something was moving inside me now.
Something ancient.
Something furious.

I picked up my coat from the back of the chair.
"You won't have to worry," I said. "By sunrise, I'll be gone."
Lucian's jaw tightened.
"Where?"
I smiled for the first time that night.
"That stopped being your business when you put your mistress in my chair."
I walked through the hall while whispers followed me.
Pathetic.
Wolfless.
Discarded.
No one tried to stop me.
Outside, snow covered the estate grounds. My suitcase waited beside a black car, packed before the feast began.
As I reached for the door, pain ripped through my spine.
I staggered against the vehicle.

On the day of my Marking Ceremony.
My brother splashed a glass of red wine down the front of my white ceremonial gown.
"Lenore."
"You knew Wren liked Joren, but you still insisted on making this ceremony so grand. "
"What are you trying to prove?"
The voice from the doorway was as cold as ice.
My fiancé, the Alpha heir of the Asterhold Pack, was leaning against the doorframe, not even in his formal suit.
The pine and tobacco scent that always clung to him had faded, like he'd washed every trace of the ceremony off his skin.
"You have two choices," he said.
"First, go through with the ceremony in that filthy dress."
"Second, call Wren and apologize. Now."
"Once she's calmed down, I'll announce that tonight's ceremony has been postponed."
I chose neither.
I walked out in the wine-ruined gown.
Before both packs, the elders and all who'd gathered for our bonding ceremony, I called off my engagement to Joren DeLuca.
My brother. My fiancé. And the girl my father brought home.
I didn't want any of them anymore.
Later, I heard that the Alphas of two of the oldest western packs nearly went insane.
They searched for every designer and tailor they could find, just to restore the white gown, ruined by red wine and blood.
When Torin burst into the bridal lounge, I had just slipped into the ceremonial gown I had treasured for ten years.
I hadn't even made it to the mirror before he kicked the door open.
"Lenore! Are you out of your mind?"
"How many times did I tell you not to hold this Marking
Ceremony?"
"You know how awful Wren feels right now."
"She's at home crying by herself. Did you know that?"
he roared, his Alpha pressure flooding the room, heavy with his anger.
I had thought he'd come to wish me well.
But the fury on his face told me l'd expected too much.
Of course. It was always about Wren.
The white gown was heavy, the bodice tight. I stood perfectly still.
I took a breath and looked up at him.
"Torin, can we please not fight today?"
"This is my Marking Ceremony. I just want it to go smoothly."
Torin's expression turned even uglier.
"Lenore, can you stop thinking only about yourself for once?"
"It's just a ceremony. Is it more important than Wren's feelings?"
"She's being so considerate. Even though she's hurting, she's still wishing you and Joren well."
"She only has one request: that you don't make such a grand spectacle of it."
"The packs could have just had a meal in the backyard.
Why did you have to do all this?"
My hands were trembling.
"I'm the one who has to stand on that platform."
I stared at him. "What's so wrong with wanting a proper Marking Ceremony for myself?

Three months after we broke up, I called him.
"I'm pregnant."
"Do you want this baby?"
A short laugh came from the other end of the line.
"Don't pin that shit on me."
"That kid has nothing to do with me."
The morning sickness.
The prenatal appointments.
The hemorrhage in the delivery room that nearly killed me.
I survived every bit of it alone.
Then I raised our daughter.
Alone.
By day, I tattooed clients in a little shop downtown.
By night, I took freelance work until well past midnight.
Every dollar I saved disappeared into security deposits and rent so I could move us into a run-down apartment in a better school district.
The rent was crushing me.
But if Birdie could get a decent education...
It was worth every penny.
On the fourth day of kindergarten, she came home with a man trailing behind her.
He wore a leather cut.
And stitched across the back was the one patch I'd prayed I'd never see again.
She tugged on my jeans and looked up at me with complete seriousness.
"Mom."
"This guy says he's my dad."
"And he says he's gonna take me away from you."
She tilted her head.
"So..."
"Should we call the cops?"
I stared at his face, my nails digging into my palm.
Five years.
It took you five years to remember you had a daughter?
I was the one who held her.
Fed her.
Stayed awake through fevers, checking her temperature every hour.
Every permission slip.
Every emergency contact.
Every signature carried only one name.
Mine.
And now you come back expecting to take her?
You're too late.
You still think I'm the desperate woman with nowhere to turn.
What you don't know...
...is that the one phone call I can make now would flip the entire world you fought so hard to claw your way into.

Birdie's backpack hung halfway down her arms.
She came bouncing out of the school gates, an orange juice stain splashed across the collar of her uniform.
A man followed several steps behind.
Black leather cut.
Heavy boots with steel buckles.
Tattoo sleeves.
And on the back...
A skull wrapped in broken reins.
Black Reins.
My stomach dropped.
Birdie ran up and grabbed my pant leg.
She wasn't scared.
Just curious, the way kids are when they see something strange.
"Mom."
"That guy followed me all the way from school."
"He says he's my dad."
"And he wants to take me home with him."
She tilted her head.
"Should we call the cops?"
I looked past her.
Straight at him.
Five years.
Damon.
He'd filled out since I last saw him.
A trimmed beard covered his jaw, and there was something new in his eyes.
The kind of confidence that came from looking down on everyone else.
Cold.
Casual.
Dangerous.
"Sloane."
He grinned.
"Long time."
I eased Birdie half a step behind me.
"You followed a five-year-old child from school."
"I'm picking up my daughter."
He shrugged.
"You hid her pretty well."
"If one of the guys hadn't spotted those eyes near the school..."
He smirked.
"They're mine. Couldn't miss 'em."
I said nothing.
Instead, I was back five years ago.
Sitting on the floor of a tiny apartment.
A pregnancy test in my shaking hands.
Two bright red lines.
I dialed his number.
"Damon..."
"I'm pregnant."
"Do you want this baby?"
Silence.
Two seconds.
Then he laughed.
"Don't pin that shit on me."
"Handle it yourself."
The line went dead.
I stood there holding my phone until my fingertips turned white.
"Sloane."
Damon's voice dragged me back to the present.
He pulled a large manila envelope from inside his vest and held it out.
"Court papers."
"We need to sit down and discuss custody."
I didn't take it.
"I'm not the same man I was five years ago."
He flashed the expensive watch on his wrist.
"I've got the club behind me now."
"You're a single mom."
"You can't beat this."
"The club?"
I stared at him.
"Where was your precious club when I almost bled to death giving birth to your daughter?"
His grin faltered.
Just for a second.
He didn't answer.
Birdie beat him to it.
She stepped in front of me on her tiny little legs and glared up at him.
"I don't have a dad."
"You've got the wrong kid."
The smile froze on his face.
He crouched down, reaching to pat her head.
Birdie stepped back.
Then stomped hard on his boot.
Grinding her sneaker into the leather.
"Don't touch me."
Damon stood slowly.
His eyes shifted back to mine.
His voice turned cold.
"She's my daughter, Sloane."
"I have rights."
"I've hired a lawyer."
"The paperwork's already filed."
"If you don't respond by Friday..."
"I'll see you in court."
He dropped the envelope onto the steps at my feet before climbing onto a roaring Harley parked nearby.
The engine thundered twice before he disappeared down the street.
Birdie picked up the envelope and turned it over in her hands.
"Mom..."
"Is that guy crazy?"
"He disappears for five years, then suddenly shows up saying he's my dad?"
She snorted.
"Scammers put in more effort than that."
She shoved the envelope back into my hand.
"So..."
"Do we call the cops?"
I crouched and straightened her crooked backpack straps.
"No."
"I'll handle this."
She nodded, took my hand, and started walking home.
After a few steps she turned around, glaring at the direction the motorcycle had vanished.
I pulled her close against me.
Rested my chin on top of her head.
My hands were shaking.
Not from fear.
From rage.
Five years, Damon.
You threw us away when it suited you.
Now you think you can come back whenever you want?
I tightened my grip around that tiny hand that still smelled faintly of orange juice.
When you walked away five years ago...
You left this life entirely in my hands.
Now you think you get to claim her?
My daughter.
Not yours to take.

Saint's Woman

My husband pushed me off the widow's walk on our babymoon.
I was seven months pregnant.
My little sister filmed the whole thing.
Then they collected two million dollars in life insurance -and cried about me on TikTok.
And then... I woke up.
Three days before I died.
-
The last thing I remembered was the rocks.
Ethan's hands on my shoulders. The railing giving way behind me-the railing he'd loosened. The lake air rushing past my ears. Brynn on the deck below, phone raised, already filming the "tragic accident."
I remembered screaming for my baby.
I remembered the wet crack of my own body.
I remembered dying slowly, cold, while my husband stood at the top of the stairs and checked his watch.
Then-sunlight. Soft sheets. The smell of coffee.
I shot upright in bed, gasping, both hands flying to my stomach.
Round. Warm. A tiny foot kicked against my palm, indignant.
Alive. She was alive. I was alive.
"Whoa, easy, Mama." Ethan appeared in the bedroom doorway, holding a mug, smiling that easy golden-retriever smile I'd loved for ten years. "Bad dream?"
I stared at him.
At the hands that had pushed me.
At the mouth that had told the police, sobbing, */ begged her not to go up there in the rain.*
"Big day," he said, setting the coffee on my nightstand.
"Lake house, here we come. Three days, no work, no phones. Just us and Peanut."
My eyes darted to my phone.
Tuesday, October 14th.
Three days before the night I died.
I had been reborn. Sent back. Given one more chance-and this time, I knew exactly what my loving husband had planned for Friday at sunset.
"Drink up," Ethan said, nudging the mug toward me. "I made it just how you like it."
My phone buzzed. A text from Brynn, my baby sister, my maid of honor, the girl I'd practically raised.
**Brynn: Can't wait for the lake!! 65. Gonna take SO many pics of you two lovebirds!**
The same text. Word for word. Down to the emoji.
Last time, I'd laughed and sent back a heart.
Last time, I hadn't known she'd been sleeping with my husband for two years. That she was the one who'd picked out the lake house. That she'd stood over my broken body and whispered, *Finally.*
I looked down at the coffee.
Decaf, supposedly. Ethan had been so sweet about the pregnancy rules. *No caffeine for my girls.*
But now I remembered something I'd ignored the first time: I'd slept almost the entire drive to the lake. Four hours, gone. I'd been foggy the whole trip-clumsy, slow, easy to steer.
I lifted the mug and sniffed.
Underneath the hazelnut creamer, faint and chemical-something bitter. Something that didn't belong.
They hadn't just planned to kill me on Friday.
They'd started dosing me on Tuesday.
Bile rose in my throat, and I forced it down with a smile—the same smile I'd worn for ten oblivious years.
"Thank you, baby," I said sweetly. "You take such good care of me."
Ethan beamed. "Always."
He headed for the shower, whistling. Whistling, like a man about to murder his pregnant wife should never be able to do.
The second the bathroom door clicked shut, I carried the mug to the window, opened it, and poured every drop into the rose bushes below.
When I turned around, Ethan was standing in the doorway again, towel over his shoulder, head tilted.
"That was fast," he said, eyes on the empty mug. His smile didn't move, but something behind it did. "You didn't even let it cool down."

Chapter 1

On my wedding day, my groom fled. I stood in the bridal lounge of the Cole Grand Resort, wearing a wedding dress worth two hundred thousand dollars, and asked my assistant for the third time, "Where exactly is Ryan?"

My assistant kept her head down, her face paler than my dress. "Mr. Cole's private jet left Kingsmere forty minutes ago, bound for Valdoria. He was accompanied by Vanessa Lane," she said.

Excellent. My fiancé had not only run away from the wedding but also taken his secret lover whom he had hidden for half a year.

Outside, two hundred guests had already taken their seats, and a dozen financial media outlets were waiting to broadcast the wedding live. Today was not only my wedding to Ryan but also the day Bennett Hotels and Cole Resorts were set to

announce their partnership.

If he had said he didn't want to marry me a day earlier, I could have had my lawyers cancel the agreement. But he chose to flee after everyone had arrived. This wasn't about pursuing true love. This was trampling both my dignity and the Bennett family's reputation into the dirt.

My father was so furious that he nearly smashed his phone. My mother, while instructing the PR department to contain the news, took my hand and said, "Claire, cancel the wedding for now. Leave the rest to us."

Cancel? If I canceled now, by tomorrow the whole world would know that the heir of the Bennett

family had been abandoned on her wedding day.

Ryan could be sipping champagne on the beach with his true love, while I would have to stand before the board and explain why a woman who couldn't even keep her fiancé had the right to take over the hotel group. Why should I have to accept that?

Just then, my phone lit up. It was a message from Ryan.

Ryan: Claire, I'm sorry, I can't marry a woman I don't love.

Ryan: Vanessa wants nothing from me. She's even willing to give up everything for me. You're so strong, you probably don't need me.

Julian Cole, forty-six years old, the chairman of Cole Resorts and Ryan's adoptive father. He had broad shoulders and long legs, a tall and straight build. Even in formal attire, the firm lines of his chest muscles were faintly visible beneath his shirt, drawing more than a few glances.

Ryan's mother had married Julian when Ryan was thirteen. After she passed away, Julian formally adopted Ryan and raised him as his sole heir.

Unfortunately, even the best mentor couldn't fix a born fool.

Julian wore a black formal suit today. With his broad shoulders and long legs, he looked more like a groom than the intended one standing among the crowd. His gaze fell on me and paused for a moment.

"Claire, this is the Cole family's responsibility," he said, his voice low and steady. "I've blocked that plane from being used in Valdoria, and I will cover all losses from the canceled wedding. As for Ryan, when he returns, I will make him personally apologize to you and your family."

That was the perfect solution. Unfortunately, I didn't want an apology anymore. Through the open door of the lounge, I glanced at the red carpet covered in white roses outside, then looked back at the man before me.

A crazy idea suddenly popped into my head. Since the Cole family had ruined this wedding, they should be the ones to compensate me. As for which groom they would give me as compensation, I thought the one right in front of me was perfect.

Sorry no option to add flairs on Reddit app. 🤔🤷🏻‍♀️

HMF this one?

There are two stories with exactly this title on the same site. One features a pregnancy, this one does not.

Chapter 1

Our neighbor? Smoking hot single mom.

Her pipes were always "broken." Lightbulbs always "flickering." Always had some heavy shit she "couldn't lift."

So yeah—every married guy in the neighborhood became her personal maintenance crew.

And when their wives bitched about it?

The guys would just frown. "Come on, she's raising a kid alone. Have a heart."

That move alone? Wrecked three marriages in our building.

Last month, Dash and I moved in.

Third night here—11 PM—knock on our door.

And there she was.

Low-cut nightgown. Big sad puppy eyes locked on my husband.

"Mr. Hayes, there's this huge roach in my place. Think you could...?"

Dash didn't say a word. Just looked at me.

I shot off the couch, grabbed the bug spray, walked over grinning.

"A roach?"

"Oh hell yeah! I LOVE crushing nasty little shits that hide in the dark!"

...

I shoved past Dash in my slippers and planted myself right in front of Sienna.

The porch light hit her like a spotlight—silk nightgown, thin as hell, neckline cut way too low.

A breeze came through and she did this whole shivering thing, all delicate against the doorframe.

"Oh. Mrs. Hayes. Still up?"

She barely smiled. But her eyes? Kept drifting past me to Dash.

"Nope. Was about to sleep. Then you woke us up."

I shook the spray can—loud rattle. "So where's this roach? Let's go."

She clearly wasn't expecting me to show up.

Froze. Hands twisted together.

"You really don't have to, Mrs. Hayes. Bugs are gross—girls get freaked out. Mr. Hayes is stronger, faster... one step and it's done..."

"Dash is strong. But bugs? Terrified. Gets all jumpy. Stomps too hard, might crack your floor."

I pushed her door open and walked straight in.

"I've got zero fear. I'll handle it."

Sienna's place—same layout as ours. Totally different vibe.

Whole place reeked of perfume.

Lace underwear all over the couch.

Two wine glasses on the table.

This wasn't a single mom's home. This was a hookup waiting to happen.

"Where's the roach?"

She shuffled in slow, pointed vaguely at the kitchen corner. Voice barely there.

"Was under the fridge earlier... don't know where it went."

I walked over and just—held down the spray.

Chemical fog everywhere. Kept going for a solid thirty seconds.

"Cough—Mrs. Hayes, that's way too much! My son's sleeping in the bedroom."

She covered her nose, backed up. Looked pissed.

"Better safe than sorry. Otherwise midnight comes, it crawls back out, you're knocking on doors again."

I set the can down hard on the counter. Turned around.

Her face shifted.

Deep breath. Switched to the sad puppy look.

"Mrs. Hayes, do you like... have some problem with me? I really couldn't handle it myself. Middle of the night, no man around..."

"No man? Call 911. Firefighters are hot."

I cut her off. Then looked down at her ridiculous high-heeled fuzzy slippers.

"But Sienna—11 PM, dressed like that, knocking on a married guy's door? Not cute."

"You—"

I didn't wait. Walked right past her to the door.

Stopped halfway. Pointed at a pair of men's dress shoes by her rack. Size 11.

"Wrong size." I didn't look back. "Dash wears a 10. If you're gonna chase my husband, at least get the damn details right."

Shut her door. Heard a high heel slam into the floor inside.

Back home, Dash was on the couch scrolling his tablet.

Handed me water the second I walked in.

"All good?"

"Just some wannabe homewrecker trying to level up." I took a sip. "Watch yourself. Don't let her latch on."

Dash laughed—cold. Slid the tablet over. "Too late. She's already starting her show."

I looked down. Nextdoor app.

Posted one minute ago by Sienna.

Chapter 2

That post? Dripping with victim energy.

"Thank you to Mrs. Hayes for helping with a roach tonight.

My son's coughing from all the spray but I'm still grateful.

Think Mrs. Hayes misunderstood me somehow—her tone was harsh... Raising my kid alone is hard. If I wasn't desperate I wouldn't bother anyone. Sorry for the noise."

Less than a minute later—all the married dudes who usually lurk came crawling out like cats to a fish market.

Larry: [Sienna don't take it personally. Young people got tempers.]

Ron: [Right? We're neighbors. Helping out's normal. Woman alone with a kid gets scared and that deserves attitude?]

Dave: [Next time just shout in the group chat. We'll help. Don't deal with certain people's BS.]

Reading that lineup of "heroic defenders"? I almost laughed.

Might as well tag me and call me a heartless bitch.

Dash grabbed his phone, fingers flying. About to fire back. I stopped him.

"Relax."

"Fighting her publicly? That's exactly what she wants. Makes her the victim. Just wait. Tomorrow I'll make her eat every word."

Next morning—Saturday.

Up early. Workout clothes. Went jogging around the block.

At the neighborhood park—Sienna on a bench.

Floral midi dress today. Hair down. Dabbing tissues at her eyes.

Couple older ladies and two middle-aged guys around her.

Their voices loud. Righteous fury.

I slowed down. Walked over.

"Well look at that. Everyone's here!" I smiled. Sat down nearby.

Instant silence.

The guys suddenly found the sky very interesting.

Sienna shifted away. Scared act. "Mrs. Hayes. Morning."

"Morning, Sienna!"

I wiped sweat off my face. Casual. "Your son's cough better? I checked—that spray's plant-based, baby-safe. If he's still coughing might wanna see a doctor. Could be respiratory."

Her face stiffened. "He's fine. Better this morning. Thanks."

"Course." I nodded. Turned to Larry—who'd been trashing me hardest just now.

"Larry, heard you're always helping Sienna out. Last night she had a roach crisis—how come she didn't knock on your door?"

Larry's wife was just walking up with groceries. Heard every word. Face went black.

Larry stammered. "I—I was asleep!"

"Oh right. Makes sense." Nodded like I just got it. "Actually—saw a pair of size 11 men's shoes by Sienna's door yesterday. You lend her those?"

"Smart actually. Woman alone—men's shoes at the door scares off creeps."

At that, every woman around us? Eyes went sharp.

Sienna shot up.

"Mrs. Hayes! You need proof! Those are my ex's shoes, okay? I kept them. So what? That illegal now?"

"Not at all." I pulled out my phone. Opened a photo.

Snapped it last night in her place.

Zoomed in. Shoved it in her face.

"But didn't your ex die in a car crash three years ago? These Ferragamo loafers dropped last month. Fall collection. And they match the pair you're wearing today—couple's set. Two pairs together? Over two grand."

I watched her face drain white. Said slowly.

"Damn, Sienna. You and your dead husband really had epic love, huh? Dead three years and you're still buying matching shoes?"

Chapter 1

Southridge Pack had a rule written into pack law.

A widowed she-wolf could remain without a new mate for no more than three years after her mate died.

Once that deadline passed, if she still had not sealed a new mate bond, the Pack Council would forcibly assign her a new mate.

I had been dropping hints to Kane for three full years.

But every time he climbed out of my bed, he lazily pulled on his clothes as though nothing had happened and never said a word about sealing the mate bond or marking me.

Then the final day before my three-year deadline arrived.

I finally lost patience and stormed over to his house. Even if it meant an ugly confrontation, I needed an answer.

But just as I reached the door, I heard two men talking inside.

One of them sounded exactly like Kane.

"Kane, Ella's three-year deadline is almost up, isn't it? Are you really not going to seal the mate bond with her and just let another wolf do it instead?"

Kane scoffed, sounding completely unconcerned.

"Why would I ever take a widowed she-wolf as my mate?"

"If you want her, seal the mate bond with her yourself."

The other man clicked his tongue in irritation.

"Forget everything else. When it's your turn, could you stop being so rough with her?"

"You left her so sore I barely got to enjoy myself last night."

Kane gave a lazy laugh.

"You've got some nerve blaming me. You're no different."

Standing outside the door, I felt the blood in my veins slowly turn to ice.

For the past three years, it had not always been Kane coming and going from my bedroom.

The other man was his twin brother, Kyle.

They had the same face, the same black-wolf bloodline, and the same pine scent. To make sure I could not tell them apart, they had even used the same scent-masking salve to completely hide their individual scents.

My face drained of color, and I turned and ran home.

When I pushed open the door, Lola was lying on the rug, clutching an old stuffed animal and staring blankly ahead.

She was not even five yet. Her eyes were still round with innocence, and she understood none of it.

I looked at my little pup, my eyes burning with tears.

I had truly believed Lola and I were finally going to have a real home.

It had all been nothing but wishful thinking.

To keep the Pack Council from handing me over to some stranger, I dug up every bit of savings I had hidden beneath the floorboards and paid a convoy bound for Northreach to take us away.

I was never coming back to Southridge Pack.

...

"This is only enough to get you as far as Northreach's border outpost."

The grizzled convoy leader leaned against a truck with a pipe between his teeth, slowly counting the cash in his hand.

When he finished, he looked me over.

"Anything farther will cost extra."

"I can't guarantee your safety on the road either."

"Northreach is cold enough to freeze you to the bone. The wolves up there aren't exactly welcoming to outsiders either."

"You're a lone she-wolf traveling with a pup. Are you sure about this?"

I did not hesitate. I merely gave him a bitter smile and nodded.

"That's fine."

"Just take us as far as this money will get us. Reaching Northreach is enough"

The convoy leader exhaled a stream of smoke.

"All right."

"The convoy leaves tonight. If you're late, we leave without you."

I thanked him and trudged home, exhausted.

The moment I opened the door, I saw a tall werewolf standing with his back to me.

He was holding a tiny rabbit braided from scarlet cord, smiling as he played with Lola.

At the sound of the door, Lola reluctantly tore her gaze away from the rabbit.

The moment she saw me, she stretched out both arms.

"Mom!"

The unfamiliar male turned around as well.

A lingering smile softened his naturally downturned eyes.

"Ella? Where did you go?"

"I've been looking everywhere for you."

"Why did you leave Lola here by herself?"

I said nothing.

I simply stared at the face that looked exactly like Kane's and lost myself in thought.

Now that I looked closely, they were not truly identical.

Unlike Kane, who was always lazy and bad-tempered, Kyle was far more open and straightforward.

There was a gentler warmth in his eyes, and his smile came more easily.

Other than their faces, they had almost nothing else in common.

How had it taken me all these years to finally see that?

My throat tightened.

I held out my arms to Lola.

"Lola, come here."

My pup immediately squirmed free of Kyle's arms and launched herself into mine.

She excitedly held up the rabbit braided from scarlet cord.

"Mom, Kane gave this to me."

"I love it!"

As soon as she finished, she glanced at me nervously.

Then she asked in a small voice, "Mom, when is Kane going to be my daddy?"

"Tyler from next door told me that if you don't seal the mate bond with Kane soon, the Alpha is going to choose another wolf to be my daddy..."

I pressed my lips together and gently stroked her cheek.

"You like Kane that much?"

Lola nodded without hesitation.

My gaze flickered toward Kyle, who was still standing inside the house.

I steeled myself, ready to finally say everything out loud.

"Ella, there's something I came to talk to you about."

Kyle's expression suddenly turned serious.

I froze, and my heart skipped a beat.

Lola looked back and forth between us, then obediently let go of my waist and scampered into the next room.

The curtain fell back into place behind her.

I instinctively clenched the hem of my shirt, my palm growing damp with sweat.

Then Kyle finally spoke.

"Ella, I've been thinking."

"I think we should end things."

Spot the typo. 😂😂😂

Chapter 1

The pavement was cold beneath her, the kind of cold that seeped into bones and made her shiver

even when the air wasn't that chilly. Astra curled into herself, arms wrapped around her ribs, as another kick landed against her side. A sharp, familiar pain flared, and she bit down hard on the inside of her cheek to keep from making a sound.

Not that they cared. They just wanted her to react, to scream, to beg. But she wouldn't. She never did.

"Pathetic," one of them spat. A shoe-black, scuffed at the toe-pressed into her shoulder, shoving her back down when she tried to push herself up. "Look at her. Can't even fight back."

Laughter. Always laughter. It echoed around her, bouncing off the walls of the alley, filling her skull until it was the only thing she could hear. The

camera light was blinding, pointed right at her face.

She turned her head away, but a hand grabbed her hair, yanking her back.

"Look at the camera, murderer," Bastard's voice taunted from somewhere behind the light. She

Chapter 1

didn't know what he looked like. None of them ever

showed their faces. Just their hands. Just their

voices. Just their cruelty.

She didn't resist when they forced her head up. Her brown eyes, dull and empty, stared into the lens.

The red recording light blinked back at her. They'd send her the video later. They always did. And then they'd make her watch it. Over and over.

Another fist connected with her jaw. Her teeth

rattled. The taste of copper bloomed in her mouth.

She swallowed it.

"Freak," someone muttered.

"Waste of space."

"Should've died with your parents."

That one stung more than the punches.

Eventually, they got bored. They always did. The kicks slowed, the taunts grew lazy, and then-blessed silence. The camera light clicked off.

Footsteps retreated. The alley was empty again.

Almost certainly renamed, re-posted and/or a novel. Any links appreciated! 💖

In No Turning Back, Veleya, the Luna of the Blizzard Tribe, accidentally discovers the betrayal of her husband, Leonis, and her sister-in-law, Mirabel, on her birthday.