Chapter 1

At dinner, my boyfriend and my friend started chatting in Spanish again.

Back in college, they'd both taken it as an elective and tried to convince me to join them, but I wasn't interested, so I passed.

I ate in silence, not saying a word.

Then Derek Holloway suddenly said, "Relax, Elara's too dumb to get any of this."

me. When I looked up, my face tense, he

1. Drama at the Vet Clinic

1941 Words

Chapter 1

The orange tabby hissed weakly as Sage Bennett carefully wrapped another layer of gauze around its tiny leg.

“I know,” she murmured softly. “You hate me. I’d hate myself too if I smelled like antiseptic and bitter drugs.”

The cat glared at her from the stainless-steel exam table.

Sage smiled despite herself.

“You’re dramatic for someone who almost died in a storm drain.”

Outside the clinic windows, rain drizzled steadily across the sleepy Colorado town of Blackwater Ridge. The weather had turned cold overnight, fog curling along the sidewalks while headlights glowed through the mist outside Main Street.

Most businesses had already closed for the evening.

Not Pine Creek Veterinary Clinic.

The lights still glowed warmly behind the floor-to-ceiling glass windows that made the clinic look more like a tiny greenhouse than an animal hospital. Yellow and green plants covered nearly every corner—hanging ivy, sunflowers, succulents, snake plants, tiny pots of lavender lined carefully along the windowsills.

Sage watered them every morning before opening.

It made the place feel alive and safe.

Anyone walking by could see straight inside the clinic from the street. She preferred it that way. Open spaces with clear views and no dark corners.

Her fingers tightened briefly around the bandage before she forced herself to breathe again.

The cat meowed pitifully.

“Yeah,” she whispered. “Me too.”

The bell above the front door jingled.

“Please tell me you finally gave up on that thing.”

Sage looked up immediately, relief softening her face.

“Morning to you too, Mr. Hernandez.”

Frank Hernandez grinned as he stepped inside carrying an impossibly fluffy golden retriever puppy under one arm and a paper cup carrier in the other.

The puppy spotted Sage and instantly started wiggling like his entire body was powered by joy alone.

“Well, someone’s excited,” Sage laughed.

“Don’t encourage him,” Frank said. “He already thinks he pays rent.”

The old man set the drink carrier on the front desk before gently placing the puppy on the floor.

“Brought you peach juice.”

Sage’s eyes lit up.

“You’re my favorite customer, I'm going to make a portrait of you.”

Frank snorted. “That’s because I tip.”

“That too.”

She grabbed the juice immediately, taking a grateful sip while Frank wandered toward the exam table.

His weathered face softened slightly when he saw the injured cat.

“You still got him?”

Sage glanced down at the orange tabby.

“He ate half a can of tuna this morning.”

“That ain’t what I asked.”

She sighed quietly.

Frank had been bringing his puppy, Scout, into the clinic every two weeks since he adopted him from the shelter. Half the appointments were unnecessary, but Sage never complained. The man lived alone since his wife passed away, and she suspected he mostly came for company.

Scout barked happily at the cat.

The cat looked offended by existence itsel and Frank folded his arms across his chest.

“Sage… somebody dumped that animal in a drainage ditch during a thunderstorm.”

“I know.”

“You already paid for the surgery yourself.”

“I know.”

“You’ve been sleeping in the clinic again, haven’t you?”

Her silence answered for her and Frank sighed deeply.

“You can’t save everything, sweetheart.”

The words settled heavily inside her chest because she knew that already.

Some things stayed broken no matter how badly you wanted to fix them.

People included.

Sage looked back at the cat and gently scratched behind his ears. He immediately leaned into her hand despite all the hissing from earlier.

Traitor.

“I’m not giving up on him,” she said softly.

Frank studied her for a moment before shaking his head.

“That’s your problem right there.”

“It has a name Frank, it's called Compassion.”

“You keep trying to rescue things that bite.”

Before she could answer, the clinic door slammed open hard enough to rattle the hanging plants.

“Oh, for God’s sake,” Sage muttered under her breath.

Vanessa Walker stormed inside wearing six-inch heels, too much perfume, and enough anger to poison the entire building.

Behind her came her exhausted husband carrying an annoyed gray cat inside a designer pet carrier.

“Tell her!” Vanessa snapped, spinning toward him dramatically. “Tell her you don’t come here just to stare at her ass!”

Frank immediately took a long sip of juice like he’d just been handed front-row tickets to a show.

Sage closed her eyes briefly.

Not again.

“Mrs. Walker,” she said carefully. “Please lower your voice. You’re scaring the animals.”

“The animals?” Vanessa screeched. “My husband drives twenty minutes across town because apparently nobody else can groom a cat except the pretty little vet with tight jeans and fat ass!”

Her husband looked like a man actively questioning every decision that led him here.

“Honey,” he sighed tiredly, “Luka likes her.”

Vanessa gasped.

“You see?! Now Luka is an excuse?”

Sage blinked slowly.

Luka, the gray British Shorthair currently glaring through the pet carrier, was one of her easiest patients. The cat came in once a month for brushing treatments because his thick fur matted easily, especially around the neck where he wore expensive jeweled collars Vanessa insisted on buying.

Apparently Luka was now ruining marriages.

Fantastic.

Then Vanessa spun too quickly and knocked directly into the ceramic flower vase near the reception desk.

There's a loud crash and water exploded across the floor.

Broken ceramic scattered everywhere.

Sage froze and the room fell silent.

That vase had been handmade.

Frank’s late wife had made it before she died and he gave it to me.

Vanessa looked down at the mess carelessly.

“Oh.”

Something inside Sage snapped.

“You need to replace that,” she said immediately.

Vanessa frowned. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

Her voice came out cold and sharper now.

“I’m done with this behavior. Every single month you come in here screaming accusations because your husband brings his cat to appointments.”

“Well maybe if you dressed more professionally—”

“Maybe if your husband wanted another woman, he wouldn’t still be standing next to you looking miserable.”

Frank choked on his juice.

Vanessa’s face turned bright red.

Her husband looked one second away from applauding.

“Honey,” he said quickly, stepping between them, “I’ll pay for the vase. I promise. We’ll leave right after Luka gets checked.”

Vanessa whipped toward him.

“You’re defending her?!”

“No,” he said with the exhausted patience of a man who’d survived too many arguments. “I’m trying not to get banned from the only clinic Luka trusts.”

Sage bent down and started picking up broken ceramic carefully.

Frank crouched beside her to help. The rest of the afternoon blurred together after that.

Appointments, Vaccines, Nail trims, Phone calls and Cleaning kennels.

At one point, a terrified bulldog peed directly onto her sneakers.

At another, Luka attempted to claw her face off during his brushing appointment before immediately purring once she scratched beneath his chin.

“Menace,” she muttered while trimming a knot from his fur.

The cat blinked slowly at her like royalty accepting tribute.

By the time sunset painted the mountains orange outside the clinic windows, Sage was exhausted.

Her back ached, her eyes burned and she still hadn’t eaten dinner.

The orange tabby slept peacefully now inside a heated recovery kennel near the back office.

Alive but still fighting.

She locked the front door, flipped the OPEN sign to CLOSED, and leaned against the counter with a tired sigh.

Quiet finally settled over the clinic.

For a few precious seconds, everything felt calm.

Then her phone vibrated and Sage stiffened instantly.

Nobody called this number, nobody except— Her chest tightened when she saw the name.

Ethan.

Her brother.

She answered immediately.

“Ethan?”

Static crackled briefly before his familiar voice filled the line.

“There you are baby sis.”

Emotion hit her so suddenly it hurt.

“Oh my God,” she whispered. “It’s been a month.”

“I know.”

“You scared me Ethan, why stay that long.”

“I had to stay dark for a while.”

Fear curled coldly in her stomach.

“Did he find you?”

“No.” But Ethan answered too quickly and Sage closed her eyes.

“Don’t lie to me.”

Silence stretched between them then he sighed heavily.

“He’s still looking Sage, I have to be careful for us.”

Her knees weakened slightly, even after two years. Two states, three towns and a new identity.

He's still looking.

Her father’s influence stretched farther than most people understood. Money bought silence, loyalty and information.

And her husband—

No…..Ex-husband, even thinking the word made her skin crawl.

“You need to enroll this semester,” Ethan said suddenly.

Sage frowned. “What?”

“College starts in three weeks. I already handled the paperwork.”

Panic immediately flooded her chest and she was shaking her head.

“No.”

“Sage—”

“No Ethan, I don't want to go to college.”

“You can’t hide forever.”

“I’m not hiding.”

“You’re living under a fake name in a mountain town working seventy-hour weeks at a vet clinic.”

“I like my life, and for once…I'm using my real name.”

“You deserve more than survival.”

Tears burned unexpectedly behind her eyes.

“You don’t understand.”

“I understand perfectly.”

“No, you don’t!” she snapped, voice shaking now. “You’re not the one he married.”

There's a heavy silence as Sage pressed a trembling hand against her mouth.

The memories came too fast after that.

She being in locked doors, bruises hidden under sweaters. Her father forced her back every single time she tried to leave.

Because appearances mattered more than her safety.

Always.

“He won’t stop looking,” she whispered brokenly. “What if somebody recognizes me? What if they take me back?”

“Nobody is taking you anywhere.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“Yes, I can.”

His voice hardened instantly and she exhaled shakily. “He doesn’t own you anymore.”

Sage started shaking.

“You didn’t see his face the last time—”

“I saw enough before I beat his ass up.”

Tears slid down her cheeks now. “I’m happy here,” she cried softly. “I finally feel safe.”

The clinic blurred around her.

The plants, the soft lights and the sleeping animals. This tiny little life she built from scraps and fear.

She loved it. God, she loved it.

Ethan exhaled heavily through the phone.

“Sage…”

“I can’t go back,” she whispered. “What if they find me? The Cahall…”

“Dont f*****g mention their name!” He warned me in that authoritative tone and I sobbed.

“But if they do—” His voice cut through her panic sharply.

“They stopped being your family or friends the day they dragged you back to him. So don't ever say their name. No one is taking you back.”

The words shattered something inside her completely.

Chapter 1

Samantha’s POV

“Damn, you’re f*cking tight, Samantha,” Dominic muttered as he pushed his cock further in. I gripped his shoulders, a shock of pain jolting through me as he continued, he looked focused but detached.

I looked up at him, trying to see something, anything, that would make this feel real, feel like more than a marital duty. His sharp jaw, the dark stubble that lined it, his deep, almost dangerous eyes. He had tanned skin and long, thick lashes that framed those intense eyes, a face that could draw anyone in without a word. He was everything a she-wolf could want, including me, and he knew it.

This was the man I’d loved for years, the Alpha everyone admired, the one who made every other girl in the pack watch him with a mix of awe and longing, wanting, craving his attention, his touch, and everything of him. And now, here he was—my husband. I should have felt like the luckiest woman alive. But with every thrust, it was painfully clear that to him, I was just someone to use, a toy to play with anytime he needed.

He didn’t look at me as a man looks at his mate, not with warmth, not with love. For him, I was just an object to toy with. His movements were rough, devoid of any real connection. He held my hips firmly, but there was no tenderness in his touch—just the persistent push and pull, it was not intimate.

I wanted to tell him it was my first time, but before I could say anything, he pushed harder, filling me with a sudden pressure that made me gasp. I bit my lip to stifle a scream, tears pricking my eyes. He didn’t pause or seem to notice. Or if he did, he didn’t care.

This was supposed to be everything I’d ever dreamed of, and for years, I had wanted him, every part of me craving a life with him, believing that one day, he’d see me. He’d truly see me… and love me.

But now, all I could feel was the hollow space between us, the cold stare despite the warmth of his body, the detached look despite how close we were, the distance that seemed to separate us despite being skin-to-skin. I bit my lip to hold back the tears, refusing to let him see the way this tore me apart. He leaned down, his dark hair falling across his brow, close enough that I could catch the faint scent of cedar and smoke clinging to his skin—a scent that once filled my fantasies, but now only reminded me of how unreachable he was.

I see him as my everything, yet he looked at me as if I were nothing, and this affair, as if he were just performing some unavoidable duty. However, for me, it was more than just a duty.

“Relax, you wanted this,” he whispered to my ear, almost impatiently, his hands pinning down my hips, steadying as he stretched my pussy, tearing my hymen as he thrust deeper.

Dominic’s movements quickened, each thrust driving me closer to the edge, a place where pain and desire blurred together. His lips brushed my neck, and I thought, hoped, for a moment he might mark me, that he might claim me as his. But instead, he pulled back, his lips curling into a smirk as he watched me writhe beneath him.

“Look at you, such a slut,” he muttered with disdain. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it? To be used like this?” he thrust with a mocking tone.

“No,” I whispered, my voice barely audible, caught between shame and the humiliating pleasure he forced me to feel.

He tightened his grip, thrusting even harder. “Don’t lie. You wanted this marriage. You wanted me.” His eyes bore into mine, challenging, daring me to deny it.

“Dominic,” I implored, feeling the build-up in my core. I clenched around his cock as he banged me nonstop, “f*ck,” he grunted, gripping my hips tightly enough to leave bruises.

The tension continued to build inside me, needing to be released, yet I couldn’t climb the high without him taunting me with every hard thrust and withdrawal, denying me the release that I craved.

He rubbed his fingers onto my clit, sending me in another maddening spiral, he pinched and circled, and my back arched, aching for more pressure as he continued to fill me with his cock, “Don’t stop,” I moaned.

The shame burned through me, but the sensations overwhelmed everything else. I was caught in his spell, trapped between my own desires, and my own helpless love for a man who saw me as an object.

“Yes. Ah!” I rolled my hips meeting his thrust, closing my eyes, drunk in the sensation that burned my body, pushing me to the edge. The shock of electricity coursing through me every time he deliberately hit my G-spot in a harder yet more pleasuring way was unbearable, teetering me to the brink of collapse.

“You want more, huh?” he teased, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he watched me squirm beneath him. “Tell me how much you want it, Samantha.”

“No,” I whimpered, catching my breath while our body rocked in every thrust he made.

“Liar.” He slammed and I yelped. “Your tight pussy is choking my cock, Samantha. Lie, I dare you,” he threatened as he stopped moving, denying me what I needed.

“I want you,” I breathed, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. “I need you.”

“Beg,” he commanded, pausing, his breath heavy against my skin. “Beg for it, Samantha. Show me how much you want this.”

“Please…” I whispered, my voice hoarse, defeated.

“Please what?” He teased, eyes narrowing, savoring every moment of my submission.

“Please, Dominic… I need you.”

A dark satisfaction lit his eyes as he resumed his rhythm, harder, faster, each thrust sending me spiraling toward the release I both dreaded and craved. I gripped the sheets, my body arching toward him as he filled me completely.

“god, you feel amazing,” he groaned, his hands roaming over my body. I could feel his fingers digging into my thighs, holding me in place as he drove deeper, harder, claiming me in a way I had only fantasized about.

“Don’t stop,” I gasped, my breath hitching with every powerful thrust.

The way he said it made my heart race, and my core throbbed, sensing the impending release. The tension coiled tightly within, each thrust pushing me closer to that edge.

“That’s it,” he encouraged, grunting as he chased his own high. “I want to see you fall apart for me.” He thrust harder, and I felt that overwhelming wave crashing down, pulling me under.

“Oh god, I’m—” The tension built inside me, coiling tighter and tighter until I could no longer hold back. With one final, brutal thrust, he pushed me over the edge, and I shattered, the pleasure wracking my body in waves that left me breathless.

He drove into me one last time, harder, more desperate, riding my climax, and filling me completely as I lost myself in the sensation.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his body tightening as he released his load inside me, spurting, filling my cunt.

I remained still, trembling from the aftershocks, he pulled away, leaving me cold and exposed. I watched as he stood, reaching for his clothes with a casual indifference that felt like a slap.

He barely glanced at me, as if I were already forgotten.

“Where are you going?” I managed to ask.

“Don’t overthink it,” he replied, pulling on his shirt. “It’s just sex, nothing more.”

“But… you didn’t mark me,” I stammered, the realization hitting me like a punch to the gut. My heart sank at the thought, that even though I gave him myself, he still couldn’t love me.

He paused, looking back at me with a hint of annoyance. “Mark you? Why would I do that? This was an arranged marriage, Samantha. Don’t fool yourself into thinking it means anything to me.”

“Dominic… we’re married,” I tried to remind him, desperation clawing at my voice.

He laughed coldly, mocking, and indifferent. “Marriage is just a contract, Samantha. You’re nothing more than a Luna with no wolf, an obligation I’m bound to. Don’t read more into it than that.”

As I lay there alone, memories of our wedding flooded my mind.

The sun streamed through the bridal suite as I stood before the mirror in my wedding dress. Lena, my soon to be mother in law, entered and gasped. “Oh, Samantha, you look absolutely stunning!”

“If only your mother could see you in this dress,” she said, her voice tinged with sadness.

I forced a smile. “She would have loved it. But I’m lucky to have you, Lena. You’ve been like a mother to me.”

Lena beamed, pride shining through her tears. “You’re going to be a beautiful Luna. Dominic is so lucky to have you.”

Just then, the door swung open, and Dominic strode in. The moment he saw me, his expression soured. “What’s all this? A wolfless Luna in a fancy dress? How quaint,” he mocked.

Lena stepped between us, glaring. “Dominic, that’s enough. Samantha is going to be your wife. She doesn’t need to have a wolf to be a Luna.”

“Really?” he scoffed. “You think that’s enough? This is ridiculous.”

Lena’s eyes narrowed. “It’s considered unlucky for the bride and groom to see each other before the wedding. You need to leave.”

“Unlucky?” Dominic laughed. “What does that even matter? I’m unlucky enough to be marrying Samantha as it is.”

His words cut deep. I swallowed hard, trying not to cry. I had hoped for kindness from him today, but instead, he served me disdain.

“Get out, Dominic,” Lena said firmly. “Let her have this moment. Go find something to occupy your time.”

Dominic glared but eventually shrugged, turning to leave. “Whatever. Don’t fool yourself into thinking I’ll ever play the doting husband. You’re just a wolfless Luna to be used

Chapter 1

Cassandra's POV

By the time the fervor in the bedroom finally subsided, a full two hours had passed.

The sound of running water echoed from the bathroom, and I lay sprawled across that massive antique four-poster bed for a solid five minutes before I could even muster the strength to move.

Taking a deep breath, I dragged myself up on trembling legs and went to retrieve my silk nightgown scattered across the Damascene carpet.

Alexander had been particularly rough today. God, my head was still spinning.

Just half an hour ago, he had me pinned down hard against the velvet mattress, those cold, powerful arms locked around my waist like iron shackles. His thrusts were brutal and deep, each one hitting that sensitive spot with precision, making my entire body shudder. The contrast between his cold temperature and my burning skin was maddening, and when that overwhelming pleasure crashed over me like a tidal wave, his scorching tongue traced my neck before he couldn't hold back any longer—those lethal fangs emerged and pierced through my fragile skin.

The dizzying sensation of blood loss mingled with the peak of sensory stimulation left me capable of nothing but broken whimpers, completely undone beneath him.

Now, the inside of my thighs ached terribly, and on the side of my neck—where two shallow, freshly healed bite marks remained—there was still a dull, throbbing pain.

This was the price I paid for being his exclusive blood bag and wife.

I fumbled with the lace ties of my nightgown several times, unable to get them fastened, my fingers still trembling uncontrollably.

Soon, the bathroom door swung open, and Alexander emerged.

He was tall and imposing, with a slender yet commanding build, his features so chiseled they could have been carved by Michelangelo himself. As a creature of the night, his skin carried that sickly yet mesmerizing pallor unique to his kind.

Fresh from his shower, a pure white towel hung loosely around his waist, and droplets of water traced down his marble-hard, defined abs before disappearing beneath the towel's edge.

When he noticed me still standing naked by the bed, his deep ocean-blue eyes narrowed slightly, and his sharp brows furrowed just a fraction.

I didn't look at him again, just kept my head down, continuing my battle with that damned lace tie.

"Serena is being released from the sanatorium tomorrow."

He walked past me, bringing with him a cold, oppressive wave of cedarwood scent, and spoke suddenly. "You'll go to the St. Cecilia Estate to pick her up. I've already promised your mother that she can stay at our manor for a while, until her bloodlust is completely stabilized."

My hands froze mid-motion.

I turned my head, staring at the man before me in disbelief.

This was my husband of two years—Alexander, the most powerful vampire lord of New York's Night Empire, and the CEO of Wall Street's most influential investment conglomerate.

And Serena, the woman he mentioned, was my half-sister.

When I was five, I got lost in Central Park in Manhattan. While my biological mother searched frantically for me for three days and nights, my stepfather took the opportunity to bring home a golden-haired, blue-eyed little girl who looked like a perfect porcelain doll—Serena. She replaced me, becoming the family's most beloved little princess. Even when the police found me three years later, I had already become a transparent, unnecessary presence in that house.

More ironically, when Serena turned eighteen, she was accidentally bitten by a rogue vampire. To save her life, Alexander personally gave her the Embrace. From that moment on, she became one of the blood clan, while I remained an ordinary human—mortal, aging, destined to die.

"You want her to live here?" I finally found my voice, though my throat felt dry. "Alexander, this is our home. And... you know she's never liked me."

Alexander walked to the massive walk-in closet and casually selected a black silk shirt to put on. His movements were elegant and unhurried, and he didn't even turn around.

"Cassandra, don't be so petty," his voice was low, magnetic, yet cold as ice. "Serena has just survived the agitation of her transformation period. She's extremely vulnerable right now and needs a safe sanctuary. Besides, my blood runs through her veins—I must take responsibility for her."

I must take responsibility for her.

Those words cut through my heart like a rusty, dull blade.

What about me? I'm your legitimate wife. Every night you ravage me in bed, feed on my blood, mark me with that distinctive cold cedarwood scent of yours.

Don't you need to take responsibility for me?

But I didn't voice these thoughts. I knew that in this marriage, I had never had the right to negotiate terms from the very beginning.

Two years ago, when my mother's company faced bankruptcy, Alexander stepped in with capital—on the condition that I marry him. Because my blood carried a rare sweet factor that could soothe his violent nature as an ancient vampire.

"I understand," I lowered my eyes, smoothing out my nightgown to cover the purple-blue marks of passion on my body. "I'll pick her up tomorrow."

Alexander seemed satisfied with my compliance. He turned and walked toward me, his towering frame completely enveloping mine. He reached out with his long, cold fingers, gripping my chin and forcing me to look up at him.

"Good girl," he murmured in a low voice, his gaze flashing with a hint of crimson as it lingered on the bite mark on my neck. He leaned down, his cold lips brushing softly against that wound, sending an involuntary shiver through my body.

"Your taste was exquisite tonight, Cassandra. Go rest now."

With that, he released me and walked out of the bedroom. The heavy carved wooden door closed behind him with a dull thud.

Once again, I was alone in the room. The air still carried the scent of our recent intimacy, mixed with the cold aura he left behind.

I walked to the floor-to-ceiling window and gazed out at the glittering neon lights of New York City.

I am Cassandra, a human girl with a bright smile and warm amber eyes. My friends all say I have a cheerful personality, like California sunshine.

But no one knows that within this opulent Gothic manor, I live like a pet trapped in a gilded cage.

Chapter 1 Avery

Avery

“So… is this coffee supposed to taste like that?”

The girl says it while staring into her mug, like it might answer her back.

I stop at the edge of the table and glance down. The coffee looks exactly like it’s looked all night—dark, steaming, minding its own business. She doesn’t look up at me, just keeps frowning into the cup as if she’s personally offended by it.

“Yes,” I say. “That’s coffee.”

She finally lifts her gaze. Perfect hair, glossy lips, the kind of effortless confidence that comes from never having to ask how much something costs. Her friends sit back, watching, one of them already half-smiling like she’s hoping this turns into something worth talking about later.

“Well,” the girl says, tapping the rim with one manicured finger, “it tastes burnt.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, my voice automatically polite. “I can bring you a fresh one.”

“I already had a fresh one.”

I pause, then nod. “I can bring you a full mug from another pot.”

She tilts her head. “Do you guys even clean the machine? Or do you just… keep pouring until it stops working?”

I keep my smile in place. It’s a good one. I’ve had years of practice. “We clean it every night.”

She doesn’t look convinced. “It’s just weird. Coffee shouldn’t taste like this. Like, have you ever been to Starbucks? That's what it should be like.”

I think about all the things coffee shouldn’t taste like, including entitlement, but say none of them. “I’ll bring you another cup. No charge.”

She sighs, like I’ve exhausted her. “Fine. But if it’s bad again, I’m going to have to talk to your manager.”

“Oh no,” I say. "Not the manager threat.”

She squints at me. “Are you being sarcastic?”

I meet her eyes, hold it for just a beat too long. Then give her my best customer service smile. “Of course not.”

I turn away before she can decide whether to argue.

Behind the counter, the smile drops immediately. I lean forward, resting my hands against the edge, and let out a breath I’ve been holding longer than I realized. It comes out as a low, irritated sound—more animal than polite human waitress.

A weight settles against my shoulders. A hand pats my back, slow and exaggerated.

“Why are you making threatening noises?” Ricky asks.

I glance sideways at him. He’s leaning over the counter, all elbows and bad posture, blonde curls falling into his eyes, looking far too entertained by my misery.

“One of my tables thinks diner coffee should taste like $15 Starbucks and trust funds,” I say. “Apparently ours tastes like disappointment and poor neighborhoods.”

He laughs. “That’s nothing.”

I look at him and arch an eyebrow.

“I just watched a toddler shove his straw up his nose,” he says. “Then he leaned forward and tried to drink his chocolate milk through it.”

I stare for a second. “…Did it work?”

“No.”

“Coward.”

The laugh slips out of me before I can stop it, sharp and sudden. I didn't mean to insult a child, but if you're going to go for the straw up the nose, you better put it to use, you know? From the corner booth, a woman’s voice rises, panicked and shrill, followed by a man yelling something about bad ideas and germs. The kid starts crying. Ricky presses his lips together, shoulders shaking.

“I had to walk away,” he says. “For my own safety.”

“Yeah,” I say, wiping my eyes. “Okay. You win.”

I straighten, smoothing my apron, letting the noise of the diner settle back into something manageable. “At least the shift’s almost over.”

“Almost,” he says. “Which is when things usually go wrong.”

His arm stays draped over my shoulders, familiar and easy. “Drinks after?”

I look up at him. Ricky’s always been easy—someone who doesn’t ask questions I don’t want to answer, who understands what it means to be tired and broke and trying anyway. Sometimes we get drinks, sometimes those drinks turn into his couch and his bed, into laughter and warmth and nothing complicated. No promises. No expectations.

I don’t have space for more than that. Not with my translation degree eating every spare moment, not with tuition and rent and the constant math of survival running in the back of my head.

Ricky is all long limbs and restless energy, the kind of skinny-lanky build that somehow still reads athletic, like he could step onto a basketball court and hold his own without trying. He has messy curls that never stay in place and a smile that works on almost everyone. Girls notice him. They always have. He never seems surprised by it, never brags about it either—it’s just something that happens around him.

But with me, he’s different.

He’s gentle in ways most people don’t expect from someone who gets attention so easily. He listens. He checks in. He makes sure I feel wanted, respected, and safe, not just desired. When we end up tangled together in his sheets after too many drinks and too much laughter, he treats me like I matter—like I'm not just another night, but someone worth being careful with.

And that’s why I keep coming back.

So drinks? I can do drinks.

“Yeah,” I say. “I’d like that.”

A shadow falls across the counter before he can respond.

Frank stands there, arms crossed, expression carved from permanent irritation. His eyes flick to Ricky’s arm, then back to me. “Are we working,” he asks, “or hanging out?”

“Working,” we say at the same time.

“Table twelve needs refills,” he adds, already turning away. “Less chatting.”

“I’m on it.”

Ricky leans in just long enough to murmur, “Still worth it.”

I shake my head, grab the coffee pot, and head back out onto the floor, the bell above the door jingling as someone else walks in.

I don’t know yet that this is the last normal night of my life. I don’t know that something ancient is already moving, or that the world I understand is about to crack open.

For now, I just pour coffee and keep smiling, believing—like an idiot—that this is all there is.

Chapter I: Very Gorgeous Man

Chapter 1: Very Gorgeous Man

Joanna

I woke up to the sound of my alarm slowly getting louder and I waited for the chiming bells to stop before I rolled over and hit the screen. With a deep breath, I muster the energy to get out of the bed and drag myself to the shower. I had a job interview today and I needed to be there early so that I won't be labeled as a late comer. Quickly taking my shower, I did my morning routine before getting myself ready for the day and headed to the venue where the interview will be held.

I got there almost before eight-thirty in the morning, the interview is scheduled for nine in the morning. I always like to be early, I hated doing things at the rush hour. But now, my patience is running out and my legs are bouncing up in frustration. It is already half past nine yet no one showed up and I have been waiting for more than an hour.

After several months of job hunting and my years in the university. I am finally getting the opportunity to work in one of the biggest companies in the country, Dangote Group of industries. When I was twelve years old, I read about two brothers, Griffin and Justin Creed who started the company years ago right out of college.

I followed the company from that time on, I got my General Education Development at the age of fifteen and got full academic scholarships to one of the top universities in the country. After several years of schooling, I finally got my degrees and masters. And when I reached a point where I felt qualified on the educational level, I tried to find a job in the company but I had no luck.

It has been ten months since I finished my last degree and aside from some very low-paying internship, I have been out of luck on the job front. For the past four months, I worked at a struggling coffee shop and tried to use my expertise to help keep the door open.

Right when I started working at the coffee shop, I saw a job vacancy at Dangote Group of industries and applied instantly. After three months of waiting, I was finally called in for an interview when I was about to give up on hope. But the bakery was able to keep gas in my car and I was able to make minimum payment on my loans but I was almost homeless and had barely any money in my name.

So here I am, waiting for almost an hour. I let out a sigh and checked my watch again, who knew a place so established like this company would keep me waiting this long? I glance around the lobby, there was a security team at one desk near the door and a receptionist on the other side in the section I was sitting. The place was stark white with light blue and silver accents, luckily the chairs were comfortable. The receptionist, a petite blonde girl glance at me and send a sympathetic smile for the millionth time, if only she would stop looking at me and fucking call someone to assist me.

I checked my time again, and it was almost ten o'clock. And just as I was about to go talk to the receptionist, the elevator on the right side of the desk pinged and opened and a very gorgeous man stepped off and headed in my direction.

Holy hell, he had dark hair and beautiful ocean blue eyes. He walked towards me as if he was walking down a runway, model perfect and gorgeous in a crisp dark brown suit with gold cuffs.

"Miss, Clover?" He said in a deep voice that had the hint of an accent. He extended his hand and I took his hand in a handshake.

He stood a few inches over my height in heels, I snaked my eyes up his chest till I met his sparkling eyes. They were clear blue like the sky and held me captivated.

"Hello," I said, sliding my hand out of his and he stared at me for a second too long before blinking slowly.

"I am Logan Walker, one of the partners here." He said smiling softly showing two dimples in his cheeks.

A small pang of disappointment hit me, there were only pictures of Justin Creed and I don't know what Griffin looked like but I was hoping the man that was in front of me, the one that would be interviewing me would be him but I was wrong.

"I am sorry for the delay, I was just told you were down here waiting. We were training some new assistant who apparently did not know how to relay a message." He said, the more he spoke, the more I realized he had a Greek accent. He is not from this country.

"Come with me, let's head to my office. I am not a fan of big impersonal meeting rooms for one-on-one interviews." He said, gesturing towards the elevator, I nodded and grabbed my bag and credentials.

When he turned his back to head to the elevator, I fixed my clothes. I had been sitting for so long, when my mother was alive, she had so many amazing outfits and this piece I am wearing now was one of them. It was a crop jacket and high waist pants suit in black soft wool, it was probably my favorite. I added a white tank that I found at the thrift store, it was also cropped so I had to make sure I pulled it down so that my mid drift didn't show. I added some strappy silver heels that made me feel mature and sophisticated.

I put my curly hair in a loose bun and did light makeup. I wanted to hide my freckles because it made me look younger. I watched his back as he walked, he had to be one of the handsomest men I had ever met. He was lean but he had an athletic build and the suit fit him like a glove. He has a very nice ass too, if I took a guess, I would place him just over six feet.

A few inappropriate thoughts flew through my head. He could fold me like a pretzel. Fuck, why did I just think that?

I hurried to catch up to him, my heels sounded way too loud on the beautiful marble floor. The elevator doors were opening by the time I caught up and I hurriedly followed him on. He raised an eyebrow in my direction, causing me to flush and the corner of his mouth tipped up a little bit.

Chapter 1

Zia

I was sitting at the dinner table, my fork chasing the vegetables around the plate. “Have you found a job as yet, or are you still playing around with that computer?” My father’s voice brought me out of my thoughts.

“Oh Mom, I saw the bag. Can we get it tomorrow?” Ally said from beside me.

“Of course, Sweetie,” Mom replied, smiling. I dropped my fork onto the plate and looked at them. Ally had that same smirk on her face. My mother looked at me with feigned interest.

“Why doesn’t she have to work?” I asked, but I already knew the answer. Ally scoffed, and my mother gave me that not this again look.

“You know exactly why Ally cannot work.” My father said, And there it was.

“I don’t see the problem that you both see; she has enough energy to go shopping and flaunt on social media, to prance aroud and no responsibilities. Why am I the only one with responsibilities?” I asked, looking at them.

My father's face started turning red, my mother looked annoyed, and the idiot beside me was smirking. I stood up, my chair scraping against the floor.

“Thanks for dinner.” I said, throwing down the napkin and walking out. I walked out the front door to my father yelling my name and Ally crying. I walked down the driveway and down the sidewalk. I had no idea where I was going but just away from them.

That was always the result. Whenever I asked questions, that was the answer. Ally could die; Ally is sick; Alisson Ryan, or Ally Nineteen years old, she was our parents favorite and golden child; she could do no fucking wrong.

I was five when Ally was born. I don’t remember much, but I remember my parents being worried about the baby. It wasn’t until I was nine that I fully understood. Ally was born with a hole in her heart, which caused our parents to dote on her. She was nine when the doctor cleared her, but that has been her and my parents’ excuse. She was born on the 20th of May, and I was born on the 25th of May. I never had a birthday party that didn’t involve Ally. It was her half birthday, as she declared, and mine was forgotten.

I was pushed to the back burner, I was forgotten, and Ally took center stage; their lives revolved around her wants and needs. My sixteenth birthday was spent in a crappy kids joint downtown because that was what the princess wanted. I had only one person I could depend on, my bestest friend and only confidante in the entire world. Angela or Angie.

I just thought if I worked harder, they would see me. I thought if I did more around the house, they would see it and appreciate it, but it never happened. They missed my graduation because Ally had a meltdown, she didn’t find anything to wear. Ally’s meltdowns were the bane of my fucking existence, so I ignored them.

My phone began ringing in my pocket. I pulled it out and looked at the name. Mom. I didn’t want to answer, but I did anyway. Hope was a dangerous thing. I clung to that hope that they would somehow see me.

“Yes, Mom?’”

“Zia, can you come home? Your father… he… I think he’s having a heart attack,” she said. I could hear the panic in her voice. I ended the call and ran the five minutes back home. When I rushed through the door, they were in the living room. My father was on the couch holding his chest.

“Did you call an ambulance?” I asked Mom.

“Yes, I don’t know what happened. We were talking, he received a call, and then he just suddenly grabbed his chest.” She said in panic. I heard the Sirens. I looked at Ally, who was still on her phone.

“CAN YOU FUCKING STOP FOR ONE MINUTE AND GO LEAD THE PARAMEDICS IN?” I yelled at her.

“There’s no need to yell at your sister,” Mom said, and I looked at her.

“Fine,” I said, throwing up my hands and walking out of the living room. “Zia, where are you going?” She asked.

“Me? Since your precious daughter can’t assist in making sure the paramedics get to her father in time, then why should I? You don’t want me to say anything, so as a mother maybe you should, or as he’s your husband, you might want to let them in, or you’ll be a widow. He isn’t my father alone.” I said. Her face went pale. I heard the knock on the front door; that was when the idiot stood up and opened the door. Two paramedics walked in and went over to him and began checking him. Asking him a series of questions. They checked his heartbeat. One stood up and looked at us.

“It was just a very bad case of acid reflux, but it may feel like a heart attack,” he said. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. After a while they left. I stood bracing against the wall. My mother kept staring at me.

“Aren’t you going to apologize to Mom?” Ally asked.

I looked at her but didn’t answer. “I can’t do this anymore. I help around the house as much as I can, but you refuse to see what your favoritism is doing to this family and me. When is Ally going to grow up? When will you start holding her responsible…” I let out a sigh. I really didn’t want to do this now, but I couldn’t do this anymore.

“I’m moving out. I can’t do this anymore.” I said, walking up the stairs. I walked into my room, the place that has been my sanctuary, my starting place, for the past twenty-four years. I grabbed the rarely used suitcase out of the closet and began packing my essentials. I grabbed all my laptops, my books, and some clothes.

I pulled my phone out and texted Angie.

Messages

Zia: I’m done. Can you come get me and bring my stuff?

Angie: Finally. On my way, boo.

I could always count on Angie. I pulled my suitcase down the stairs.

“Zia, wait. Please don’t leave; I’ll change. I promise.” Ally said, grabbing my wrist.

“No, you won’t because they won’t allow it, and I’m done with this.” I said, pulling my hands away.

“Fifty million,” my father said, and I stopped and looked at him.

“The Thornes, When... When Ally was born and we learned that she was sick... I… we borrowed fifty million from the Thornes for the surgery and bills,” he said quietly, and I could feel the blood drain from my face. I looked at my mother, and her face was pale.

“And?” I asked, prompting him.

“I… I… only managed to pay five hundred thousand dollars back. Alaric Thorne called me earlier. I… I had made a deal. If by the time Ally turns nineteen and I couldn’t repay it, then I would give you to him,” he said.

Chapter 1

The day I found out I was pregnant, I took a 7-hour train to surprise my husband, Ronald.

Instead his open arms, I got a WhatsApp message: "I have another family here. A wife and a kid."

My mind went completely blank. As more messages popped up, my fingers started shaking uncontrollably.

"My wife found out about you last night and tried to kill herself by slitting her wrist."

I had set up a training ground for Maddox to hone his weapons skills. I don’t know if Marcus is coming for us.. but my little brother will not end up like my mother!

Getting out of the Jeep, I asked “What do you want to work on first?” He shrugged and told me “Archery.. I’m better at that, than knives. And katana is always saved for last! It’s my favorite!” I grinned and said “Mine, too!”

We ran our routines.. and I am so impressed with his accuracy and agility. His speed is increasing, too. His instincts are good and he never freezes. I grinned and said “Next week, we will start on moving targets. You have gotten good enough, we need to step it up!”

He laughed “Yeah. I still don’t want to run the course blindfolded.. like you do. I don’t have that extra boost to my senses, that’s all you!” I told him “You have extra something, Buddy Roe! You’re accurate, as hell.. and fast. Your instincts are on par with a wolf’s.”

I took him home to have dinner and do his homework. Mrs. Sutton from across the street came to babysit, until I closed the diner.

Back at work, I was restocking the cooler and Tammy said “About time you made it back! I had a rush at four. Was in the weeds for an hour!” I straightened up and looked her over “You realize I am the person who signs your paycheck, right?”

She nodded and I snarled “Then what gives you the right to use that tone with me? I won’t tolerate disrespect Tammy! From anyone!”

She sneered “You know what?! I don’t give a fuck! I quit! That new M.C. is taking applications for club girls. Free room and board. A clothing allotment and two hundred cash a week!”

I laughed and asked “You’d rather be a club whore than work in my diner? I wish you luck, young one! I hear initiation is a bitch!”

She scoffed “Not a whore, you idiot. A club girl.” I busted out laughing..” Never been around a bike club, have you? Well! I wish you luck. Now, get your shit and clock out. I will have your final check cut in ten minutes.”

I texted Ashley that we have to run an ad.. I need a new server

She killed me for her brother.

I came back.

Seven days before the apocalypse.

While everyone is still human—I’m already building a war machine.

A truck.

A ten-meter killing mecha.

This time…I hunt first.

Chapter 1

"Screw you, Susan Holt!" Victor Wild's eyes were bloodshot, filled with rage.

The woman's voice echoed in his mind.

"Victor, let my brother have this advanced Source Crystal, okay? With it, his mecha will evolve to an advanced mecha. He's my brother, after all."

"Victor, the girl my brother likes really wants that beam rifle you just got. Can you let him have it? He's my only family."

"Victor, you HAVE to give this epic skill Source Crystal to my brother. With it, he'll become one of the top 100 in Riverside City.'

The more the voice resounded in Victor's mind, the redder Victor's eyes became.

His own mecha would evolve to an advanced mecha with that advanced Source Crystal too. He loved that beam rifle; he went through so much to obtain it. He needed that skill Source Crystal more than anyone because he was already one of the top 100 in Riverside.

But for her, Victor compromised again and again.

He gave her the advanced Source Crystal, the beam rifle, and countless other things. However, he could not give her the skill Source Crystal.

That lone act of defiance led to his death.

For a skill Source Crystal, the woman he cherished for eight years killed him.

But she never could have expected that Victor would be reborn, filled with rage, seven days before the machine invasion, back to his eighteen-year-old self.

-

"Hey, go daydream somewhere else."

A greasy man in a suit and gold-rimmed glasses slammed his hand on the desk.

"I want a loan!"

Victor, regaining some of his senses, slammed a property deed on the desk with even more force.

The greasy man was taken aback by Victor's sudden intensity.

In all his years, he'd never seen a borrower act so aggressively.

Everyone who came to him to borrow money was desperate.

Judging by the guy's yelling and demeanor, maybe he got dumped by a girl?

Well, none of his business!

What the greasy man didn't realize was that he was actually intimidated by Victor's killing intent.

Luckily, the greasy man had seen it all, so he quickly recovered.

"You get 90% and you pay back 130% in one month. You understand the terms, right?"

The greasy man composed himself, adjusted his glasses, and went into his routine.

"Yeah. How much can I borrow?"

Victor pushed the property deed towards the greasy man and sat down, his composure returning, the killing intent hidden.

"This yours?"

The greasy man examined the property deed. A 100-square-meter apartment in the city center, worth a good amount.

But the problem was, the young man sitting in front of him looked about eighteen or nineteen. Handsome, sure, but to own an apartment like this?

Maybe his parents gave it to him?

A rich kid? Is this idiot being scammed by a woman?

"Here's my ID. Speed up the process, I'm in a hurry." Victor handed over his ID.

The greasy man gave Victor a sidelong glance. Everyone who came to him was in a hurry.

On his third wedding anniversary, Bruce discovered that his wife was cheating on him.

At the time, he stood outside the penthouse suite, carrying a stack of pizza boxes in his arms.

This was his last delivery for the night. After this, he was going home to prepare dinner.

It was his wedding anniversary, and he had planned the perfect date night with his beloved wife, Caro.

Caro wouldn't be back from work until 11 o'clock. He only had two hours to prepare for her arrival.

"Come on," he muttered, ringing the doorbell for the fourth time. "I don't have all day."

The door finally swung open.

A man stood before him.

Bruce cleared his throat. "Your order, Sir. Mr. Willis, right?"

Willis looked him up and down with open disdain, he wore a white robe, and it seemed that he had just taken a shower.

"You fool," Willis snapped. "What took you so long? I ordered these twenty minutes ago."

"Apologies, Mr. Willis," Bruce said, adjusting his spectacles with unsteady hands. "Traffic was bad, but I got here in ten minutes."

Before Willis could complain further, a woman's voice drifted from inside the suite.

"Is everything alright there, darling?"

Bruce froze.

That voice. His fingers tightened around the pizza boxes. He recognized that voice.

No. It couldn't be!

Willis turned his head lazily. "It's this annoying pizza guy making lame excuses. After keeping us waiting, he's now blaming traffic."

"That's not very nice," the woman replied, approaching the doorway.

Bruce's heart slammed violently against his ribs as she appeared.

It was Caro—his wife.

Her hair was loose and slightly damp with sweat. She wore one of the hotel's white robes, tied loosely at the waist.

It didn't take long for Bruce to put two and two together. His wife was sleeping with Willis.

Caro stopped mid-step, her eyes meeting her husband's.

"Bruce?" She called, stunned. "What are you doing here?"

Bruce felt the world tilt. His arms suddenly felt weak. "I should be asking you the same thing. You told me you'd be working late."

Willis frowned. "You know him, Caro?"

Caro rubbed her temples, letting out an exasperated sigh. "This is my husband. The one I told you about."

Willis blinked, stunned. Then he let out a disdainful laugh.

"Your husband?" he repeated, his eyes returning to Bruce. "This is the guy?"

Bruce's blood rose like a heated thermometer.

"Caro," he croaked. "You're sleeping with him? How could you? How long has this been going on?"

Caro narrowed her eyes. "Shut up, Bruce!"

A jolt of electricity zapped through Bruce's body system. "I should shut up?" He said quietly.

"You're overreacting," she rolled her eyes. "It's embarrassing. Take a chill pill!"

Bruce's eyes widened. "I'm overreacting? You're cheating on me on our anniversary. How am I supposed to react?"

Caro tilted her head, her eyes devoid of remorse. "This shouldn't surprise you, Bruce. We agreed to an open marriage, remember?"

"You said that was just a phase," Bruce retorted, his eyes filled with pain. "That you weren't seeing anyone anymore."

Caro sighed, clearly annoyed now. "Well, I lied. Happy now?"

"Hold the phone," Willis chuckled, pointing his index finger at Bruce. "So you're the husband? The useless son-in-law of the Griffin family?"

Bruce clenched his jaw. "You should be ashamed of yourself. Sleeping with a married woman. That's so low of you."

Suddenly, Caro's hand moved fast and struck him across the face.

SMACK!

The sound echoed sharply through the hallway. His spectacles dropped on the carpet.

Bruce staggered back a little, his head snapping to the side. For a few minutes, there was silence.

"No! You can't do this to me!"

Marco sat up abruptly in bed, gasping for air. His face was deathly pale, drenched in cold sweat.

He had just experienced an unbelievably realistic dream. In it, he had died—killed at the hands of his own wife and her family.

He distinctly remembered the intense cosmic rays bombarding Earth, corrosive rain pouring down from the sky, animals twisting into horrific monsters under the radiation, and plants sprouting razor-sharp thorns. Even some humans had mutated into inhuman abominations.

The apocalypse had arrived.

Marco remembered all of it. Every single day of the apocalypse.

He had been a repairman before the world ended. A nobody with calloused hands and a toolbox. When the disaster hit, he had used every skill he had to reinforce the Benedetti house. He had sealed the windows, reinforced the walls, built water filtration systems out of scraps. He had kept them all alive while the rest of the neighborhood was destroyed.

And how had they repaid him?

He could never forget that day. Their food supplies had completely run out, and he was preparing to risk his life going outside to scavenge for resources.

Instead, his wife’s family ambushed him from behind, knocking him unconscious and brutally slaughtering him to consume his flesh!

No, this was definitely not a dream!

How could a dream possibly feel this real?!

In those final moments before his death, he even witnessed his wife, Valentina, locked in an embrace with her "cousin," Lorenzo.

Lorenzo had smirked triumphantly and said, "This useless trash has finally been squeezed of his very last drop of value. He went to his death without ever knowing that I'm the real father of the baby in your belly!"

Valentina had giggled coyly in response, "Who told that loser to be so naive? I said you were my 'cousin' and he actually believed it! The truth is, every single night after he fell asleep, I snuck into your room to have some real fun!"

His jaw tightened until his teeth ached. He remembered how Valentina had brought Lorenzo into the house and told him he was her cousin.

"Just my cousin, Marco. Don't be so paranoid."

And her parents had backed her up. Her mother had laughed at him for being suspicious. Her father had called him a jealous dog who should be grateful anyone married him at all.

For years, Marco had handed every cent he earned to Valentina. 

Chapter 1 A Perfect Start

"Pay me another 300 bucks," the diving instructor growled, "or I'll hold you under until you stop moving."

Then he shoved Avery Vance's head beneath the surface.

Avery struggled on instinct, arms and legs flailing as if she were panicking.

Under the water, however, her expression stayed calm, even slightly amused. 'So that's how it is.'

The friendly tour guide act was gone the moment they were alone at sea. What was left was a man trying to shake her down.

In her mind, the situation was already simple. 'You started it. That makes this self-defense.'

One of her hands stopped moving and slipped toward the small dive pouch at her waist.

Inside was a switchblade.

She pulled it out, flicked it open, and drove it into his abdomen without hesitation.

Once. Twice. Three times.

Her grip stayed steady the entire time. A faint red cloud spread through the water.

Now the instructor was the one thrashing, panic taking over every movement.

At that moment, a voice suddenly echoed in the air, "Welcome, player, to The Great Oceanic Survival. Life begins in the sea, and it ends in the sea."

Avery paused for half a second, eyes narrowing underwater. 'What is that supposed to be?'

She didn't wait for an answer. She drove the blade into his chest three more times.

The instructor stopped moving and slowly floated face down on the surface.

Only then did Avery lift her head out of the water and start treading water.

The voice was still there. "Congratulations, player. You have achieved the first kill on this server. Do you want to make a public announcement?"

Avery listened while keeping herself afloat.

If she had ever played survival games or read anything like them, she would have known the obvious answer was yes.

Public announcements usually came with extra rewards and early advantages.

In a situation like this, that kind of head start mattered.

It would also put her name on the map in a bad way, which could keep trouble away.

That was the kind of opening hand every gamer dreamed of.

Pocket aces. Bonus chips. The whole table nervous.

It was a clean early advantage. But Avery didn't know any of that.

Why not? Simple. Assassins didn't read web fiction.

Yes, Avery was an assassin. The diving instructor had been her target for this job.

Her clients were a middle-aged couple who had sold their house to afford her fee.

Their only daughter had gone on a vacation dive, and the instructor had held her underwater to squeeze an extra 300 dollars out of her.

That time, he had gone too far. The girl had actually drowned.

Three years later, the instructor got out after serving time for negligent homicide and went right back to the same line of work.

Avery was his 404th customer after prison. Fitting, really. Some people were better off not found.

The job was done. Now Avery just needed her phone so she could take a few clear photos of the body.

Once she sent them to the clients, she could collect the rest of her payment.

Her phone was on the inflatable boat.

Avery looked around. 'Wait a second. Where the hell is the boat?'

The inflatable boat the instructor had used to bring tourists out here had been less than thirty feet away.

There was no wind today. The ocean was calm. It could not have drifted off that fast.

'So where is it?' Avery ducked beneath the surface and scanned the water around her.

Nothing. The boat was gone. Her phone was gone too.

Avery did not panic. In her experience, when a person lost something, they usually gained something else.

For example, she had just gained a very annoying question: "Congratulations, player. You have achieved the first kill on the entire server. Would you like to make a public announcement?"

"No announcement," Avery said immediately, still treading water. "Absolutely not."

She had no idea what the voice in her head was, but she had just killed a man. Broadcasting that sounded like something only an idiot would do.

Avery preferred to keep a low profile. 'Public announcement? Hard pass.'

[Congratulations, player. You have received the first-kill reward: two bottles of bottled water.]

[Congratulations, player. You have received the title "Player Killer." This title may be equipped on your personal stats panel.]

Two bottles of water appeared in Avery's hands.

The first-kill reward should have included food, first-aid supplies, survival gear, and basic tools. Enough, at least, to give her a serious head start.

But because she refused the announcement, all she got was two bottles of water.

She had been handed a killer opening hand and folded before the flop.

Any other player would have been furious enough to punch the ocean. Avery, however, stared at the bottles in her hands.

"Two bottles of water?" she said, genuinely impressed. "For me? Just like that?

Chapter 1 Chapter 1 Surviving at Sea, Talent Unlocked

"Mind Repository. Communication link in progress. All intelligent beings detected and assembled."

Aimee Estrada felt groggy, and her whole body ached as if she had been tightly bound with ropes.

The scorching summer sun burned her skin. Her body instinctively tried to curl up, but she was completely immobilized.

With her waning consciousness, Aimee fought fiercely against her unresponsive body. Finally, her fingers twitched, as if some invisible barrier had shattered.

Regaining control at last, she struggled to open her eyes and pushed herself up with shaking arms.

'Strange. Wasn't I sleeping at home?' Aimee thought, confusion swirling in her mind. Before she could reflect further, a blinding flash of light shot across her vision.

Pain was the last sensation Aimee experienced before slipping back into unconsciousness.

*****

On a vast, endless sea, countless rafts were scattered in every direction, resembling a swarm of black dots on the water. The sight sent chills down one's spine.

"Welcome to Tartasland, players. The sea survival game has officially begun." A cold, mechanical voice echoed across the sea.

At that moment, everyone lying unconscious on their rafts suddenly opened their eyes.

"What is this place?"

"Wh-Who tied me up and put me on this raft?"

"Where am I? I can't swim!"

"Help! Anyone there?"

Similar cries of confusion and panic erupted from rafts across the sea.

Everyone awoke to find themselves in an entirely unfamiliar place, and panic swept through them.

*****

Aimee woke up again, blinking a few times. 'Huh, it doesn't hurt anymore. Was that a weird dream?'

She looked around. Above her was a deep blue sky, and below was clear water. The air was thick with the damp, salty, slightly fishy smell of the sea.

The sun blazed so fiercely that she couldn't look at it directly, and her pajamas were soaked with sweat.

Aimee slowly pushed herself up, focusing on the calm, glassy surface of the sea. The water's clarity felt surreal, yet it was unsettling that nothing could be seen beneath it.

'So it wasn't a dream. Where the hell am I?' Aimee thought again. She rubbed her hands, doubt gnawing at her.

"Dear players, take it easy for now." A lively, human-like mechanical voice, much warmer than the earlier cold announcement, broke through, addressing all players in zone 997.

Suddenly, a flash of blue light appeared in front of Aimee. Then a digital screen showed a cartoonish girl with pigtails and subtitles below her.

"Whoa," Aimee muttered, her brow furrowing.

Then the subtitles made her heart skip a beat.

[I'm System 05 for Zone 997. Welcome to the sea survival game. Please read the rules carefully.]

[1. This is a real place. Please respect every living creature here. If you die here, you die for real.]

[2. All players are between 15 and 50 years old. The elderly and kids stay in your old world, frozen in time. After the rules, you can decide if you want to link your family to your fate.]

[Friendly reminder: Once you bind your family, your life decides theirs.]

[3. Every player starts with a raft (50 square feet) and a novice package.]

[4. The first three days are a Novice Protection Period. It's relatively safe, so gather supplies quickly for the challenges ahead.]

[5. Many treasure chests are scattered across the sea. Open them to get essential supplies.]

[6. Tartasland has many small, uninhabited islands. Each is a mix of opportunity and danger. Be careful when exploring.]

[Alright, everyone, the ultimate survival game is now live. Best of luck to you all.]

The screen disappeared instantly, and a stream of silvery light swirled around Aimee's wrist. A metallic watch shimmered into view, showing the time, 7:50 AM.

Aimee was only 23, fresh out of college, and she was an avid webnovel fan. She had a hunch about what was happening. She twisted her wrist, checked the watch, and tapped the round center button.

The blue screen appeared again, resembling a phone app, with tabs for Profile, Mailbox, Trade Hall, Chat Channel, System Bag, and more.

Suddenly, the system addressed Aimee directly. The subtitles matched what she heard in her ear.

[Dear Player 658234166, would you like to generate a new name?]

[Do you want to change your player name? If you don't answer before the timer runs out, the system will default to your current one.]

'Who uses their real name online?' Aimee thought, quickly tapping "Yes" and changing her nickname to Lucky.

Lucky was the dog Aimee had as a kid. Since Lucky's passing, she'd consistently used that name and avatar online.

When Aimee checked her profile, it had changed to:

[Name: Lucky]

[Age: 23]

[Health: 100/100]

[Energy: 60/100 (Hot and exhausted. In need of water and food.)]

[Strength: 4/10 (Human max is 10. Average is 6. Below human average strength.)]

[Agility: 3/10 (Below human average.)]

[Mentality: 100/100 (?!)]

[Talent: Not unlocked]

[Skill: Not unlocked]

Aimee stared at her profile, sensing something odd.

[Mentality: 100/100 (?!)]

Aimee didn't know what mentality was or how to use it, but the system's apparent shock indicated its importance.

Suddenly, a box resembling a game loot package appeared before her.

Chapter 1 She Was Pregnant

Grant Manor was extremely quiet tonight. The grandfather clock ticked away, making the atmosphere in the living room more frigid.

At the end of the long table, the private lawyer slid the divorce papers across to Victoria. His tone was strictly business, devoid of any warmth. "Ms. Sutton, please review the terms. If everything looks good, sign on the last page."

The papers lay before her, white and sharp. Like a knife, it finally came down.

Victoria lowered her gaze to the agreement, her face expressionless.

She wore an off-white coat that day, which made her face look colder and more fragile, faint shadows of exhaustion beneath her eyes. But she sat straight, her fingers steady, barely a tremor to be seen.

Across from her, Alexander Grant sat in a black suit, his features sharp, the light falling across his chiseled profile making him look all the more distant and restrained.

Alexander was the man in charge of the Grant Group, and the husband she had never truly gotten close to in their brief marriage.

Or rather, soon-to-be ex-husband.

He lifted his eyes to her, his voice low, unreadable. "Take your time with the terms. Property, compensation, cash, equity. The Grant family won't shortchange you."

Victoria looked up at him.

He said they wouldn't shortchange her. That sounded nice enough, as if the two of them had simply arrived at a perfectly civil ending.

But what really killed a marriage was never the papers handed over at the very end.

It was the distrust, time after time. It was every explanation being taken for an excuse. It was her standing in the middle of a crowd, slandered, humiliated, pushed into an abyss, while he watched coldly, and then passed the final judgment himself.

"Alexander, don't say that," a gentle, fragile voice suddenly broke the silence.

Emily Sutton, seated behind Alexander, had red-rimmed eyes, as if she could no longer hold back. "Victoria is already upset enough. If you talk like that, it'll only make her feel worse."

She wore a plain white dress that day, her long hair loose over her shoulders, her eyes glistening with tears. She looked pitiful and innocent, as if this divorce pained her more than anyone, as if she were the one most wronged.

Victoria looked at her and almost wanted to laugh.

Emily, the imposter who had stolen her place for over twenty years, the one who had schemed and pushed her all the way to this point, now sat there playing the good girl.

"Emily's right," Grace Sutton sighed, her face full of worry and sympathy. "Victoria, no one wanted things to come to this.

"But you know Alexander has always hated being manipulated. All that stuff before left a knot in his heart. This marriage can't go on."

She paused, as if afraid of upsetting Victoria, and softened her tone even more. "Still, no matter what, you're my daughter. Even if you get divorced, that doesn't change. The Sutton family will always be your home."

As soon as those words left her mouth, the servants standing nearby instinctively lowered their eyes.

Everyone knew that on the day the Sutton family brought Victoria back, the first act of "family love" they gave her was making her marry into the Grant family in Emily's place.

Now that they had used her up and the marriage was over, Grace chose this moment to remember she was a daughter and put on a show of being a loving mother.

Victoria did not answer right away.

Her stomach had been bothering her lately, and it had been churning since the afternoon. By now, she felt a heavy, nameless weight pressing on her chest, each breath carrying a dull ache.

But she held it together well. From the moment she walked in, she had not shed a single tear, not even once asked why.

Alexander had expected Victoria to at least defend herself a little.

After all, over the past few days, she had kept insisting she was set up, that those leaked videos were fake, that she had never leaked Grant Group's files, and that she had never been seeing anyone else behind his back.

But now, she said nothing. It was as if she had accepted her fate, or as if she simply could not be bothered to fight anymore.

Her calm unsettled him for reasons he could not name.

Alexander tapped his fingers lightly on the table, his voice growing colder. "The terms are laid out clearly. Sign the papers, and you will still be the heiress of the Sutton family. The Grant family will not make things difficult for you out there.

"As long as you keep your head down, the past stays in the past."

'The past stays in the past?' Victoria finally smiled.

She lifted her eyes, but there was no trace of amusement in them. She looked calmly at Alexander.

"Mr. Grant, what you are saying is that as long as I sign, all those slanders, all those misunderstandings, all those accusations you personally pinned on me, they all get wiped clean, is that it?" she asked.

Alexander frowned slightly. "There is no point in rehashing all that now."

"Yeah, there is no point," Victoria agreed. "Because you never believed me anyway."

The air went still for a moment.

Emily immediately chimed in, her eyes red. "Victoria, do not blame Alexander. This is all my fault. If it were not for me—"

"Shut up." Victoria turned to her, her voice low but cold as ice. "Every time you open your mouth, it makes me sick."

Her words made everyone in the room freeze.

Emily's tears spilled over instantly. She looked deeply wronged, her face pale. "Victoria, I just care about you."

"You care about me?" Victoria looked at her, the corner of her mouth curving slightly. "Then maybe try hiding that smug look on your face first."

Emily's breath caught. She looked up instinctively, and for a split second, she almost felt like every last bit of carefully concealed satisfaction she had was laid bare right in front of Victoria's eyes.

"Enough." Alexander's voice dropped, his gaze fixed on Victoria. "You are not here to make a scene today."

"Am I making a scene?" Victoria shot back.

She reached out, picked up the divorce agreement, and flipped to the last page, her expression strikingly indifferent. "Have I not been cooperative the whole time?"

Alexander stared at her, something heavy settling in his chest for no clear reason.

The next second, Victoria picked up the pen and put her name down on the signature line.

She signed quickly, cleanly, without a second of hesitation, as if what she was putting to an end was not a marriage but the most ordinary receipt in the world.

The lawyer blinked, taken aback by how smoothly it went. He quickly collected the papers, confirmed the signature, and handed them to Alexander.

Alexander did not take them. He just kept looking at her, his eyes unreadable.

Victoria had already risen to her feet.

She was thinner than before, her coat tracing her lean, straight frame. The light fell across her shoulders, casting her as a blade that would sooner break than bend.

"It is done," she said flatly. "From now on, I have nothing to do with you all."

"Nothing to do with us?" Grace's expression shifted. She hurriedly said, "Victoria, how could you say that? Even if you and Alexander are getting divorced, you are still part of the Sutton family."

"Mrs. Sutton." Victoria turned to her. "You seem to have forgotten that from the day I came back to the Sutton family, I was never there to reconcile."

Grace's face went pale.

Charles Sutton spoke up sternly. "Victoria, don't be so ungrateful."

"Ungrateful?" Victoria let out a small laugh, but her eyes stayed cold, utterly unruffled. "Mr. Sutton, on the day you brought me back and made me marry into the Grant family in Emily's place, did you not think you were being ungrateful yourself?"

Charles's face immediately turned sour.

Alexander's brow furrowed deeper.

He had always known this marriage was rushed, and that Victoria had been pushed into it at the last minute. But to him, that was the Suttons' family business, none of his concern.

He needed a wife in name only to keep his elders off his back. It didn't matter who.

Whether Victoria had married him willingly had never crossed his mind.

Victoria's gaze swept across every face in the room and finally came to rest on Alexander.

"Mr. Grant," she said, her tone even, almost calm. "You had better pray you never run into me again for the rest of your life."

Alexander's expression darkened. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Victoria slipped the wedding ring off her finger and set it gently on the table, a faint, crisp click ringing out. "It doesn't mean anything.

"I'm simply reminding you that there are some people you only get one chance with, and once you miss it, they are gone for good."

With that, she turned and walked away. From start to finish, she did not shed a single tear, nor did she look back even once.

The living room fell so quiet that even the servants' breathing grew faint.

No one had expected the divorce to end this quickly, and even fewer had expected Victoria to walk out not in defeat, but as if she had never thought much of the Grant family to begin with.

Alexander sat where he was, his gaze fixed on the wedding ring lying on the table, his expression darkening by the second.

For some reason, an uncomfortable feeling crept up from somewhere deep inside him, like something he had always taken for granted was slipping completely out of his control.

But the feeling passed in a flash, and he pushed it down quickly.

He did not need it. There was no point.

When Victoria stepped out of Grant Manor, the night wind hit her face, and her steps faltered. The churning in her stomach that she had held back all evening finally surged up.

She gripped the doorframe, her face deathly pale.

The driver moved to help her, but she raised a hand to stop him. "I can manage."

Her voice was soft, but steady enough that not a trace of vulnerability showed.

Chapter No.1

Victoria Connor:-

"I, Alpha Adolphus Beckham, of the Red moon pack, reject Victoria Connor as my mate and Luna." Adolphus announced in front of the whole pack, standing firm on the ground with his cold gaze fixed on my teary one while I kneel and begged in front of the whole moon pack not to reject me but he didn't listen.

"No...No, please. I beg you, Adolphus. Please...please don't do that. I am your mate. I love you so much. Please. I love you!" I cried out loud when an unbearable pain in my heart took over me, as I felt the mate bond broken between us.

The pain was too much to take.I just wanted to die right then and there after the rejection. I loved him so much, more than anything only to get rejected by him. One moment everything was alright, then another moment I was getting rejected just like that? Why did I do to deserve this.

"Why? Why did you do that?!" I shouted, doubling in pain on the ground and I know he was feeling the same pain but he refused to show. As the Alpha, he is strongest of us all "Until this morning you were telling me that you loved me and all of a sudden you are rejecting me. Why? What did I do to deserve this?"

"Nothing, you were just a good lay, but you were never the one for me." he snapped, walking towards my step sister Katrina "From this day forward, Katrina is going to be the Luna of the pack." he announced before wrapping his arms around Katrina's waist and pulled her in for a kiss.

"No...No....No!" I woke up screaming and crying after the worst nightmare of my life that won't go away for the last five years. It wasn't really a nightmare, but the worst painful memory of my life. The memory I will never be able to forget in my whole life.

The pain of rejection and betrayal from Adolphus was still fresh in my mind, when it has been five years. Five long years since he has rejected me for my bitch of a step sister Katrina. My body was trembling after that nightmare like always when the door to my room burst open and my brother came running inside with a worried expression on his face and hugged me tightly to his body to comfort me until I calmed down.

"Sssh! Calm down. It's alright, little wolf. I am here. No one is going to hurt you, sister." my brother, Alpha Damien Connor, the alpha of Moonstone pack, whispered in my ear.

"It hurts, brother. It hurts so much. It still hurts." I cried and sobbed in his arms "It still feels like it happened yesterday."

"Vicky, you need to understand that Adolphus was your past, not your future which is why you need to move on in your life. Now get ready. It's a big day today. We have to prepare so much for our dearest Adeline. After all she is turning five today."

Damien announced with a biggest smile on his face, excitement evident on his face as he mentions the name of his one and only niece and my daughter Adeline Marliyn Connor. The daughter of Adolphus and me. The daughter he is unaware of because I decided to keep her as a secret.

After a few weeks of the rejection, I found out I was pregnant with Adolphus's baby and as much as I wanted to tell him about it, my family stopped me from doing that. They said that man doesn't deserve me or the baby, and I was afraid that he will snatch our baby from me.

I lost the will to live until I found out that I carry his symbol inside of me and since then I have dedicated my life to my beautiful daughter Adeline. Just when I was thinking about her with a smile on my face, the door to the room opened once again and my beautiful red haired and hazel eyes daughter came running inside to throw her arms around me for a hug.

"Good morning, mommy!" she shrieked and giggled in my arms. All of the pain and bad memories vanished when she hugged me, and all I cared for was her.

"Good morning, my little angel." I greeted her, after pulling back from the hug and kissed her cheeks with tears in my eyes as I looked into her hazel eyes that reminds me of Adolphus since she inherited these beautiful eyes from him "Wow, someone is looking grown up today. What could that reason be?" I pretended to think while tapping my index finger on my chin when she giggled in my arms.

"That's because it's my birthday today and I turn five, mommy. So, of course I will look grown up, silly." she said rolling her eyes like me. Damien and I laughed as we sandwiched her in for a hug and wished her a Happy Birthday.

"Happy Birthday, my little angel. Mommy loves you so much." I tell her after breaking the kiss, slipped off the bed to take out the shiny goody bag from the closet "This is for the most beautiful little girl in the whole world." I said giving her the first gift I prepared for her.

"Oh my God! Thank you so much, mommy." she jumped up and down in excitement and hugged me once again "I love you. You are the best mommy in the whole world." she said kissing on my cheek when Damien pouted.

"And, what about me? Am I not the best Uncle in the whole world? You hurt me, cupcake" he asked, pretending to be hurt.

"Oh, you are the best Uncle in the whole world," Adeline announced, making me chuckle "But, dramatic too." this made us burst out laughing.

"Ok, why don't you come with me and let your Aunt Marliyn dress you up like a princess you are?" Damien said, picking Adeline in his arms "You get ready and meet us at the packhouse ground. Mom and dad are waiting for the moonstone ceremony."

"Shit! I totally forgot about that. I will be joining you guys fast." I said, smacking on my forehead then mouthed "Sorry" to my daughter for using the word "Shit" in front of her innocent ears.

After an hour, I was standing with my parents on the stage where the moonstone ceremony was taking place. My daughter was dressed up in a beautiful white dress with flower tiara on her head as she stood in the arms of her Uncle, when my wolf Lyla decided to speak up.

"Something doesn't feel right, Vic. Something is not right. Stop the ceremony. I am having a bad feeling about it." my wolf Lyla talked to me in my mind.

"What could possibly go wrong, Lyla? You are just thinking too much. It is a normal moonstone ceremony that is held for every royal female member of the Moonstone once the child turns five. I had one too." I asked confused "Now, shut up and let's witness one of the best moment of our pups' life." I blocked her after that to watch my father putting on the beautiful moonstone necklace on Adeline's neck. As soon as dad, put on the necklace, the sky turned red and Adelina let out a painful scream holding her heart.

"Ahhhh!" Adelina screamed and sobbed while I went running to her with worry and tears in my eyes, my heart hammering inside of me. Fuck, I should have listened to Lyla.

"Adelina, baby. Mommy is here. Tell me what's happening, my dear?"I tried to talk to Adelina and shouted for the pack doctor. All of a sudden my body flinched and went frozen when I heard the voice of the deep and dominating voice of none other than Adolphus.

"Let go of my pup right now. She's mine!" his voice roared, as I turned around with Adeline in my arms to find Adolphus standing over there with his beta glaring at me.

"Ad...Adolphus? Wh...What are you doing over here?" I asked in barely an audible voice.

"I am here to take my pup. She's mine!"

Chapter 1: The Verdict

“Alana Moonlight, daughter of Aldric Moonlight, Alpha of the Crescent Moon Pack… you have been found guilty of your father’s murder.”

For a moment, I thought I had heard wrong. I must have misheard. It wasn’t just unfair; it was an affront to reason, a blasphemy against everything I was.

“The sentence for the crime,” he declared, rising before the pack, “of patricide and attempted usurpation is death.”

Sweat broke out on my skin, and inside me, my wolf recoiled, an open wound tearing at our bond. It wasn’t a cry. It was a howl of agony. She sensed death and betrayal.

My husband, Alpha Marcus, remained motionless, too calm… almost satisfied.

Then, his final sentence fell upon me like the final blow:

“You will be executed immediately.”

The silence that followed was absolute. No murmur of shock, no defense, no plea for mercy. Only the crackling of the torches attached to the stone walls… and the invisible sound of my world crumbling.

Life was cruel. Too cruel. I had lost my father… and now, I would lose my life.

A feeling of outrage welled up inside me and turned into a scream that ripped through my throat.

“No! You can’t. I didn’t do anything.”

The elders who had blessed my birth and sworn allegiance to my father now looked at me as if I were a plague to be eradicated.

Marcus stood in the center—the place that should have been mine by right of blood. At his side, my stepmother, Natasha, wore her mourning clothes as if they were a ball gown. Black clothes embroidered with silver thread, gleaming eyes, a restrained smile. She wasn’t mourning; she was celebrating.

“Will there be no trial?” My voice came out hoarse but firm. “No chance to defend myself?”

Natasha leaned forward slightly, her lips curving into a subtle sneer.

“Judgments, my dear Alana, are for those who deserve to be doubted. And you,” she said, “don’t even deserve pity.”

“The evidence is irrefutable,” Marcus continued, holding up a small leather pouch. I recognized it immediately. “Poison found in your quarters. Knowledge of toxic herbs. Access to the Alpha’s food and drink. And the oldest motive of all: ambition.”

“This is a sham!” my voice exploded through the hall as I tried to flee, only to be held back by the guards’ firm arms. “You know I’m innocent!”

“Enough!” Marcus roared, slamming his fist down on the table. The impact made the goblets rattle and the metallic sound echo like thunder. “Guards, take the prisoner to the gallows.”

I looked at everyone and saw only indifference—except for Natasha, my stepmother. She made no effort to hide her smile. At that moment, I understood: her victory was complete.

When the guards grabbed me by the arms, I kept my gaze fixed on Marcus. And that was when his mask slipped. Just for a moment, but long enough. Behind the feigned grief, the tear-filled eyes, I saw the glint of pure triumph.

He hadn’t just gotten rid of me. He had seized power over the pack. And now he was free to marry whomever he wanted.

They put a hood over my head and forced me to walk. I could hear insults calling me a traitor.

I felt the rope being placed around my neck, and I struggled.

“No, please,” I begged.

“Stay still, Omega.”

My heart was pounding so hard I could barely breathe. Inside me, my wolf howled, wounded and confused, as if she didn’t understand why our own pack had abandoned us.

“This is where your lineage ends,” my husband’s voice rang out clearly above the crowd.

My whole body went rigid.

Even without seeing him, I knew exactly where he was. In the center of the square. In the spot where my father used to stand when he led the pack.

“I’m innocent, and you know it.”

For a second, there was silence. Then Marcus shouted.

“Now!”

The wooden floor creaked beneath my feet and gave way. It was the end for me. The rope tightened around my throat. I couldn’t breathe; no matter how hard I pulled air into my lungs, the feeling of suffocation crushed me.

A loud howl tore through the air. The crowd erupted in screams. Another howl answered, closer. More ferocious.

The wild scent reached me before I could grasp what was happening.

Wolves, strangers.

Footsteps raced across the deck. Someone shouted orders. The sound of a struggle all around me—claws, splintering wood, wolves falling.

Suddenly, hands grabbed my body, and the rope around my neck was yanked away.

I could breathe.

I pulled off the hood, and the light blinded me for a moment, but when my vision cleared, I saw a man standing before me.

Tall. Broad shoulders. Red eyes glowing with savage intensity. An Alpha.

“I found you, little omega,” he said.

Before I could answer, the platform shook from the impact of two wolves fighting. Guards were being knocked down, and other wolves—large, gray strangers—were invading my pack.

I took a step back, staggering. Then I heard Marcus’s voice.

“Kill Alana!” he ordered.

My gaze met his through the chaos. For a second, something flashed across his eyes. It wasn’t regret. It was furious.

My heart skipped a beat.

“Marcus…” I whispered.

He lunged toward me. Too fast. Too heavy.

The impact felt like fire.

His claws pierced my side, tearing through flesh and air at the same time. The pain exploded inside me, brutal and suffocating. A scream escaped my throat as my legs gave way, unable to support me.

Chapter 1 Starting Out as the Rat Queen

It was 4:00 a.m. Amy Saunders was grinding away on Ratopia into the early hours when a synthetic voice suddenly pierced the silence of her room.

[Ocean Survival loading. Progress at 99 percent. Please wait patiently.]

'Am I hearing things?' she wondered, rubbing her heavy eyes.

A split second later, a blinding white light swallowed her vision.

Amy jumped out of her chair in a sheer panic.

'Holy crap!' her mind raced. 'Is this a heart attack from gaming too much?!'

The stark light slowly faded. Amy realized she was sitting on a tiny, four-by-five foot wooden platform.

Endless, rolling ocean stretched out in every direction.

'What in the actual hell is going on?' she thought frantically. 'Did I pass out? Is this a lucid dream?'

But that made no sense. People rarely snapped into a dream with full, uninterrupted consciousness.

Before she could process the absurdity of her situation, that familiar robotic voice chimed right by her ear again.

[Survivors, welcome to Ocean Survival!

[This is a game, but it is also much more than a game. For a select few, this will be the ultimate opportunity. For the vast majority, this will be pure hell!

[You are currently in Region 3344, Zone 520. Current population: 99,999. Please read the rules carefully.

[1. This world is entirely real. If you die here, you die in real life.

[2. All selected players are between the ages of 10 and 70. The elderly and children left behind in your original world will be temporarily cared for over the next three months.

[3. Any major physical illnesses have been cured upon entry.

[Your initial stats will vary based on your baseline physical condition. Pay close attention to your attributes.

[4. Everyone begins their journey on the open sea with identical starting gear: Wooden Raft x1 and Fishing Rod x1.

[The ocean contains various supply crates that must be hooked using your rod.

[5. Your Starter Pack will mutate one item on your person into a survival tool of a random tier. Time to pray to the RNG gods!

[6. Do not enter the water. The ocean is extremely dangerous.

[7. You have a seven-day Newbie Protection Period. This timeframe is relatively safe, so use it to gear up and build your base.

[Once the seven days are up, you will face various disasters.

[Please explore to discover any remaining rules. Finding hidden clues during the newbie period will grant a first discovery reward. This is capped at four times.

[May the odds be ever in your favor!]

As the voice faded, Amy felt a sudden, heavy pressure in her head. It felt as if a crystalline microchip had just been implanted in her brain.

With a mere mental command, a holographic screen materialized directly in front of her.

Text slowly scrolled across the glowing interface. [Would you like to claim your Starter Pack?]

"Hell yes," Amy muttered, slamming the virtual button.

'No real gamer turns down free loot,' she reasoned.

Instantly, her wrist grew searing hot.

Her limited-edition Ratopia merchandise bracelet began to warp and twist.

[Congratulations. You have obtained the Unique Item: Rat Kingdom (Quality: ??? Level: !!!)

[You are the queen! Queen of the rat! Countless rats shall bow before you!

[Please select a suitable location for placement.]

The bracelet on her wrist had dissolved into a glowing orb of light.

Tossing it into the ocean was obviously out of the question.

Her raft was barely twenty square feet, so she lacked the room to be picky.

Testing the waters, she hovered the orb over a corner of her raft. A phantom hologram covering roughly ten square feet projected onto the wood.

Seeing the massive footprint, she hastily nudged it inward so it would not hang off the edge.

[Place "Rat Kingdom" here?]

"Yes!" she confirmed out loud.

The orb vanished from her hand. In its place, a miniature rocky cave appeared on the raft. It measured roughly three feet on all sides.

Set into the sealed face of the rocky mound was a tiny wooden door.

A moment later, the door creaked open. Out stepped a bipedal white rat standing three feet tall.

The oversized rodent wore a blue hoodie over white bell-bottoms. A tiny brown satchel hung from its waist.

With its massive round ears and twitching nose, it was absolutely adorable.

A floating nameplate appeared above its head: [Lucky]

Amy and Lucky locked eyes.

Amy was a total sucker for cute things. She barely suppressed the urge to tackle the fluffy creature and pet it aggressively.

Meanwhile, a flicker of sheer confusion flashed across Lucky's remarkably expressive face.

"Hey there, buddy! How's it going?" Amy asked, sporting a huge, goofy grin.

Lucky completely ignored her.

It peered out at the endless expanse of the ocean, glanced down at the flimsy wooden raft, and then gave Amy a distinctly unimpressed look.

'Was I imagining things,' she wondered, 'or did that rat just look at me with absolute disgust?'

Without a squeak, Lucky scrambled up the side of the Rat Kingdom, sprawled out on the roof, and promptly went to sleep.

'Well then. So much for a warm welcome,' she thought dryly.

The item description clearly stated that all rats would obey her commands.

However, there was not exactly anything to do right now. It was their first meeting, and she did not want to start barking orders like a tyrant.

She figured she had to respect the rat's autonomy.

Honestly, getting sucked into a deadly survival world felt less like a nightmare and more like a dream come true.

It was basically a massive, fully immersive LitRPG virtual reality game. The adrenaline was already pumping.

Accepting her new reality with disturbing speed, Amy turned her attention back to the holographic HUD.

[Player Profile: Amy Saunders (Age 23)

[Fullness: 98/100

[Hydration: 97/100

[Sanity: 33/100

[Fatigue: 3/100]

Being a veteran gamer, she understood these metrics instantly.

She had to keep her bars in the green to avoid nasty debuffs.

Assuming Fullness and Hydration capped at a hundred when she logged in, she did some quick mental math.

It had been about ten minutes since she arrived.

That meant Fullness dropped by one point every five minutes, and Hydration drained by one point every three minutes.

She would definitely need to scavenge food and fresh water to replenish them.

Below her status bars were several tabs: Stats, Crafting, Expansion, and Chat.

Amy tapped on the Stats tab. The screen instantly flooded with savage system roasts.

[Strength: 3 (Absolute garbage.)

[Agility: 4 (Slightly faster than a dead turtle.)

[Constitution: 3 (Tch. You would not survive long in the real world anyway.)

[HP: 30/30]

Amy rolled her eyes, completely unwilling to bicker with a toxic AI. 'I wonder what kind of busted stats the gym bros got,' she mused.

She clicked over to the Crafting tab, only to be met with a red prompt.

[A Crafting Table is required to perform this action.]

She pursed her lips. 'Guess crafting is mid-game content,' she concluded.

Moving on, she opened the Expansion tab.

[Expand Raft (10 sq feet) Requires: Plank (0/1), Rope (0/1), Iron Nails (0/10)]

She needed to upgrade this dinghy immediately. Out of her twenty square feet of real estate, the Rat Kingdom swallowed up half of it.

She and Lucky were left sharing a tiny patch of standing room. It was incredibly claustrophobic.

One wrong step and they would bump into each other and tumble into the drink.

If she spawned another rat right now, she would have to yet it to the sharks just to make room.

She took a quick peek at the Chat channel. Just as expected, it was an endless waterfall of panic, whining, and clueless questions.

Since everyone was fresh off the boat, there was not a single drop of useful intel to be found.

Bored of the spam, Amy closed the interface and crouched down to pick up the starter fishing rod resting on the planks.

[Wooden Fishing Rod: Can be used to hook supply chests(0/20).]

'Wait, it breaks after only twenty casts?' she thought in surprise.

As a hardcore gamer, her luck with RNG was notoriously cracked.

She smirked, brimming with utter confidence. 'At this rate, I am going to burn through this durability in no time!'

Chapter 1 Awakening Before the End

"Ah!" Eliana Lane shot upright in bed, gasping as a brutal wave of dizziness slammed through her.

Cold sweat slid down her face. For a few seconds, she could only stare at the room around her.

The place was unfamiliar, yet strangely familiar.

Soft lighting. A plush rug. Disposable hotel slippers. A Keurig on the counter. Two ceramic mugs beside it.

'Wait, is this a hotel room from before the apocalypse?' she thought, her mind racing. 'What the hell is going on? Didn't I die?'

The memory hit her like a blade. Right before she died, her so-called family had not been satisfied with draining her dry.

They had butchered her. Piece by piece, they had carved into her until bone showed through torn flesh.

Eliana clenched her jaw and grabbed the phone lying on the pillow beside her.

"June 23, 2027. 7:30 AM," she whispered.

Her eyes tightened. This was two weeks before the world ended. After this day, one disaster after another would tear the planet apart.

Arctic freezes, lethal heatwaves, acid rain, category-five hurricanes, tsunamis, earthquakes, and endless darkness. Crops withered to dust, and wildlife mutated into rabid monsters.

Wave after wave of catastrophe would push humanity to the edge of extinction.

And yet, here she was.

She had been dragged out of that black, rotting hell and thrown back seven years into the past. Back to the time before everything fell apart.

Eliana jumped out of bed and rushed into the bathroom. She gripped the sink and stared at herself in the mirror.

Her face was young again. Smooth. Flawless. No scars. None of the ugly cuts she had once carved into her own skin to make herself less appealing to predators.

Her skin looked healthy, almost luminous. Her nose was straight, her lips full, her collarbones sharp and graceful.

Damp strands of hair clung to her cheeks and neck, softening her features instead of making her look half-dead.

She was beautiful again. Eliana forced herself to breathe. "I'm back. I'm really back."

Maybe her hatred had been too strong to die with her. Maybe her refusal to accept that ending had been loud enough for the universe to hear.

A faint smile curved her lips. The woman in the mirror smiled back.

A sudden pounding at the door shattered the silence.

"Elly? You up?" Harper Quinn called from outside, her voice low, sugary, and fake as hell.

The sound of that voice turned Eliana's expression cold.

She strode to the door and yanked it open, fully prepared to kick both of them straight down the hallway.

But the moment she saw Harper, her eyes locked on the small ruby teardrop pendant hanging from Harper's wrist.

Eliana went still. That was her grandmother's antique heirloom.

That was the reason Harper's family had lived so comfortably during the apocalypse.

In her previous life, Eliana had never understood how they always seemed to have supplies.

Then one day, Harper had casually pulled out a steaming vanilla latte and sipped it right in front of her, smug as ever.

Eliana only learned the truth in her final moments, when Harper could no longer resist bragging.

The pendant contained a massive storage space, a hidden pocket dimension. It had activated by accident after coming into contact with Eliana's blood.

But there was one catch. The space only worked when Eliana was nearby.

That was the real reason they had dragged her along after the world ended.

They pretended to be loyal. They stayed by her side even after she was crippled, soaking up praise from strangers for being so selfless.

Everyone admired them for refusing to abandon the poor disabled girl who had become a burden.

And Eliana, blind and grateful, had believed every bit of it. She had treated them like saviors. She had risked her life again and again to protect them.

A sharp glint flashed in her eyes. Without warning, she reached out and ripped the pendant off Harper's wrist.

"Ow!" Harper shrieked. She had not expected it at all.

The hard tug scratched her skin, drawing a thin line of blood. Tears immediately sprang to her eyes.

"Harper!" Mason Clarke grabbed Harper's hand like she had been shot, then glared at Eliana. "What the hell, Eliana? Are you out of your mind?"

Eliana stood in the doorway with her arms crossed, looking at the two of them as if they were something rotten she had found under a sink.

"Mason," she said coldly, "do you even remember whose boyfriend you're supposed to be?"

Her gaze dropped to the fresh hickeys scattered along his neck. "Guess you didn't sleep in your own room last night."

Mason and Harper had really hooked up right next door. They had treated her like she was both deaf and blind.

And in her previous life, she had been stupid enough not to notice.

Mason's eyes flicked away for half a second before he scowled. "Quit acting crazy and give Harper her pendant back."

"It hurts," Harper whimpered, cradling her hand.

For someone as spoiled as Harper, she paid almost no attention to the bleeding scratch. Her eyes stayed fixed on the ruby in Eliana's hand.

"Oh, Elly, my sweet sister, come on," Harper said softly. "You said it looked weird on you, remember? You said it suited me better."

"Shut up," Eliana snapped. Even hearing Harper use that sweet little tone made her stomach turn. "Don't call me Elly, and I'm not your sister."

She used to think Harper calling her that was just a cute nickname, a fake-sweet way of acting close. In truth, they really were half sisters.

Harper was the daughter of Eliana's deadbeat father and his mistress. She had been born only three days after Eliana.

The irony was almost suffocating. Eliana's biological father had abandoned her as a child.

Years later, he had crawled back into her life under the mask of a generous benefactor, secretly paying her college tuition and pretending to be some kind stranger.

He had played her perfectly. A clueless Eliana had treated him like a saint and spent years trying to repay his so-called kindness.

"Just give it back," Harper pleaded. When she saw Eliana's attention drift, she suddenly reached for the pendant.

Eliana pulled her hand back before Harper could touch it. "Aren't you two supposed to be taking photos today?" she said. "I heard the view by the east cliffs is gorgeous.

"Have fun. I'm exhausted."

Then she slammed the door in their faces. The room went quiet again. Eliana looked down at the small pendant in her palm.

Harper had been obsessed with it because an appraiser once confirmed the ruby was a rare antique worth a fortune.

Wearing something valued in the tens of millions had done wonders for Harper's ego.

Eliana had never willingly given it to her. Once Harper learned its value, she had begged, guilt-tripped, and whined until Eliana let her "borrow" it for her birthday.

Back then, Eliana had thought it was just a pretty old trinket. She had no idea what it really was.

Now that it was back in her hands, she did not waste a second. She closed the curtains, grabbed a fruit knife from the desk, and made a shallow cut across her fingertip.

"If I really have a pocket space, getting ready for the apocalypse will be a hell of a lot easier," she muttered.

She held her breath and watched her blood seep into the ruby.

A brilliant red glow flared from the stone. A strange, weightless feeling spread through her body.

Her mind cleared, and the exhaustion buried deep in her bones seemed to rinse away all at once.

Eliana's breath caught. She lifted the fruit knife, deciding to test the space right away.

Thinking back to the way storage devices worked in sci-fi movies, she focused on the knife. 'Store,' she commanded mentally.

The knife vanished from her hand.

Eliana stared at her empty palm. 'It's gone. It actually worked!'

A wide smile broke across her face. For a moment, she wanted nothing more than to explore the space inside the pendant. But reality pulled her back fast.

She knew exactly where she was. Grabbing her phone, she booked the earliest flight back to the mainland.

Right now, she was on a famous resort island for a corporate retreat.

Mason worked for the company, and Harper had tagged along for fun.

Only Harper knew what kind of nasty little plan she had brought with her.

In Eliana's previous life, this was the day everything changed. While taking photos near the water, she had been attacked by a monstrous fish.

The bite had cost her a leg and left her permanently disabled.

Trying to survive the apocalypse with limited mobility had been a living nightmare. What made it worse was that she kept sacrificing herself for the very people who were using her.

And the whole time, outsiders praised Harper's family for taking care of the poor disabled girl.

Now, Eliana understood what had happened. That fish had likely been an early mutation caused by ocean pollution.

Her chest tightened. She packed at record speed and checked out of the hotel.

She remembered exactly what happened while she was stuck in the hospital recovering from the amputation.

Her father broke into her apartment. He stole the rest of her grandmother's antiques and pawned them for a massive fortune.

With that money, he went full doomsday prepper. By the time the world ended, they were living like kings in a luxury bunker.

Eliana had to get back immediately. She needed to reclaim what was hers before they stole her future all over again.

Chapter 1 A New World

May 8, 2026. 8:00 a.m.

It was just another chill morning.

Harper Wayne sat propped up in bed, typing furiously on her laptop.

"No, Alpha..." she muttered, typing out the steamy dialogue.

The exact moment her finger hit the period key, the screen went pitch black.

A split second later, her vision followed suit.

When she opened her eyes again, her cozy bedroom was gone.

She stood on a desolate asphalt highway under a blinding midday sun.

A robotic, emotionless voice echoed directly inside her skull, "Welcome to Highway Survival, Sector 81, Zone 9.

"Players must review the survival rules carefully."

Harper let out a bloodcurdling shriek.

Strangely enough, it was not because she had just been teleported to a parallel universe.

"My draft! I forgot to hit save!" she wailed, clutching her head in despair. "The female lead's wedding dress was only half-torn by her fated Alpha!"

Her scream vanished into the empty wasteland.

The system completely ignored her, shoving rules into her brain like a stack of past-due utility bills.

"Every player must select a starting vehicle within the time limit. Choose wisely. Your life depends on it.

"Survival supplies spawn exclusively in crates along the highway. You must keep moving forward to survive.

"Driving in reverse or turning back is strictly prohibited. Parallel highways will merge randomly, allowing encounters with other players.

"Service areas and special waypoints are optional.

"Driving is forbidden after nightfall. During rest hours, players must not leave a 30-feet radius around their vehicle.

"Beginner protection period lasts for seven days. No monsters will actively attack during this time.

"Hidden Clause: A mysterious gate sits at the absolute end of every highway. No one knows what lies beyond, and no one has ever reached it."

The broadcast ended, and dead silence settled over the highway.

Harper hugged her Costco-sized box of snacks tightly to her chest.

She took a deep breath, forcing her rising panic down. 'Highway Survival? I know this trope perfectly.'

As a veteran web novel author, her only real flop was a gritty survival story.

Readers hated the slow pacing, so she rage-deleted it and pivoted to writing trashy werewolf romance.

Still, years of outlining survival mechanics were permanently burned into her brain.

"Standard opening procedure," Harper muttered, snapping into problem-solving mode. "Next step is choosing a ride."

A glowing blue holographic panel instantly popped up in front of her face.

[Player ID: 77777

[Name: Harper Wayne

[Username: Pending

[You have 60 seconds to choose your starting vehicle. Timeout results in a random assignment.]

Three vehicle options appeared alongside crisp preview photos. Harper scanned them fast, filtering out the junk.

[Option 1: Faded Pink Stroller

[Stats: Decent protection, intact sun canopy.

[Load Limit: Maximum weight capacity 50 kg.]

Harper glanced down at her curvy figure and the massive box of snacks in her arms.

She let out a dry laugh. "I am way over that limit on my own. Add the snacks, and I would instantly trigger an overload explosion."

She swiped to the next option, making a firm choice in her head. 'Hard pass.'