Chapter 1 An intense pain pulled Sylvia out of the darkness overwhelming her. Sylvia gasp out heavily as she opened her eyes. The intense brightness hit her eyes making it feel stung, and she quickly shut back her aching eyes. Finally, she opened her eyes slowly getting use to the sudden brightness. Turning her head, she found the surrounding in front of her unfamiliar. 'Where am I?' Sylvia opened her mouth to speak but her sparsely dried throat hurts so much, and she could only make a hoarse sound bringing out some inaudible words. Her struggle paid fort as she finally made some words, "Where am I?" However, the room was silent and there wasn't the reply she was expecting. But something magical happened because a voice suddenly sounded in her head. [Due to the emergency appearance of the void, Susu didn't manage to save the host body but was fortunately to save the host soul and opened a passage another world. Susu will start importing memories of this body to the host. Initializing memory transfer…15%...35%...] Void? Soul? Sylvia was still thinking about the situation when a sudden intense pain hit her. Her brain was suddenly filled with countless memories of another person. Joy, sadness and countless memory fragments. [Memory transfer completed. Susu expends a lot of energy bypassing portal. So, Susu will enter a state of hibernation. Susu hope host can absorb more energy for Susu to wake up] And then the hibernation mode sounded. The mechanical voice with a tinge of intelligence could no longer be heard. The room was in tranquility. Sylvia skimmed through the original body memory, and the only thing that could come to her mind was three words. 'I'm dead' Yeah, she was busy traveling the star when suddenly a black void appeared and sucked her in with the space ship. The void was a wormhole that most starship drivers feared. But the probability of it occurring was 0.00000001 percent and that probability was what happened to her. What a bad luck she has. Well, she has always been a person with bad luck since the beginning. Sylvia was an ordinary girl living with her happy family until one day, everything changed. Her sweet mother died of cancer. And it hasn't been a week when she was still mourning of her mother death, that her father brings home another woman with two children, a boy and girl respectively. Her father cheated on her mother. Seeing those kids who were almost up to her age, it shows that he had cheated from the very beginning. Sylvia couldn't help think of those days, he would smile at her mother and whisper softly in her ear. Yet, who knew such a scumbag was a chronic cheat who've had two kids outside. Her mother fell ill when she gave birth to her, and couldn't conceive anymore. Due to what happened, she felt guilty to her husband because of her state. But who knew the whole person she was feeling guilty for till her death bed, already had two children close to her daughter age outside. She was 12 when she started to experience the reality of life. Well, she was still contented since she could still find a job to feed herself. However, things got much worse when the apocalypse arrived. This was something Sylvia never imagined to occur. She was later sold by her father and stepmother in exchange for food. Thank goodness she escaped the predicament and strive to fend for herself. She experienced so many things, hate, betrayal. There was nothing like humanity in the apocalypse. Such a young girl live such life filled with evil, till her personality turned cold and expressionless. She never bath an eyelid when killing. To her, it was just like killing something insignificant. The apocalypse finally came to an end. Several technologies where invented. It was then announced that human life span had broken through the normal threshold. Humans could now live to thousands of years. And likewise, the good news also came with bad news. The earth was unsuitable for living, since it had long been polluted due to the apocalypse arrival. So, humans had to migrate to Mars. But first, an experiment must be carried out. Sylvia was part of the experiment. She was injected and planted something in her body, and that was where the mystery of Susu an AI came from. Once the planet was suitable for living, human migrate in, leading to a life of technology. And since something like apocalypse could occur, it was not known when something like space monsters could also occur. She joined in the army to fight against space monsters. Her life was spent in the space till her death, and now there was a new life in front of her. The original owner died due to poison. But the poison had already been cleared during the body take over. The original owner was from a rich family. However, both of her parent died during the beast riot, leaving behind the original owner and her two years old brother. Sylvia found that this place was very similar to her former living place. There were beasts, and the technology was much more advanced. The original owner had to take over the company of her parents, but since she was still a high school girl, she left it to her father close personal assistant. The company could have boomed in the hand of her close father assistant.

Welcome To Thornhill Academy.

Allison

Thornhill Academy’s large iron gates stand tall in front of me, black and sharp, twisting into shapes that look more like barbed wire than decoration. They loom so high I can’t see the tops without craning my neck. For a moment, I think the bars might bend and curl around me like a trap closing in. The enforcer on my left tightens his grip on my arm, as if I might make another attempt to run for it. Spoiler: I had. Twice. The first time was a dash through the scrub bush before he tackled me into the dirt. The second ended with me tripping over his damn boot and face-planting. My pride still hurts more than my ribs. The enforcer on my right… Well, he has kept a healthy distance. I don’t blame him. Yesterday, when they first found me, I’d blasted him in the face with a spell I didn’t even know I could conjure. His eyebrows still haven’t grown back properly, which is both satisfying and slightly horrifying every time I look at him. The way he keeps darting side glances at me, like I might set him on fire again, almost makes me want to smile… Almost.

The gates creak open soundlessly, like the whole place has been waiting for me. Perfect green lawns stretch out in neat squares, too flawless to be natural. Marble pathways glisten under the morning sun, not a speck of dust or cracked stone in sight. Stone towers rise in the distance, their windows catching the light and throwing shards of gold across the ground. Magic hums in the air, pressing against my skin like static before a storm. Then there are the students. Dozens, possibly hundreds, spill across the courtyard. They move in tight little groups, uniforms crisp and pressed, dark blazers with silver embroidery, ties knotted perfectly at their throats, shoes polished until they catch the light like mirrors. None of them looks like they have ever trudged through scrub land with dirt under their nails and smoke in their lungs. They all stop when they see me. It’s like watching a ripple spread across a pond, one head turning, then another, then another. Magic falters mid-air, and conversations cut off. Every eye in the pristine courtyard is locked on me. They stare like I am some wild thing that has wandered in from the forest. They aren’t exactly wrong. I tug my arm, but the enforcer’s grip only tightens. His hand is a cuff, digging into the flesh of my bicep. I straighten my shoulders and meet their stares head-on. If they want a rabid animal, fine. I’ll give them one.

I realise now how many magicals there are. Shifters with glints of fur under their skin. Fae with silver-lined eyes. Witches trailing sparks from their fingertips. A siren’s laugh gets caught on the breeze. I’ve never seen so many in one place before. Never even dreamed of it. The scrub lands I came from don’t have people like this, just broken magicals and scraps of freedom. Now that freedom is gone, shrinking behind me with every step deeper into this perfect little prison. The enforcers don’t slow. We cross the courtyard and climb the wide marble steps that gleam like bone. The doors ahead are massive, carved with sigils that pulse faintly as I approach. They open on their own, and I am shoved through into a hall that makes my chest tighten. The inside of Thornhill is worse than the outside. The air is thick with incense and magic. Chandeliers float overhead, crystal shards dripping starlight down the walls. Banners are hung in deep reds and silvers, embroidered with the crest of Thornhill, a phoenix made of fire and chains. The floors gleam so perfectly I can see my own scowling reflection in them. We march past students lining the hall, whispering behind their hands. Their eyes follow me, their expressions ranging from curiosity to disgust. I catch words like feral, unmarked, and illegal. My jaw clenches so hard my teeth ache. “Move it,” the enforcer mutters, steering me toward a wide staircase. The steps seem endless, and we climb higher and higher. The walls are lined with portraits of grim-faced magicals glaring down at me like I am already guilty of something. At the top, heavy doors loom, their brass handles are shaped like coiling serpents. The enforcer knocks once, and the door swings open with a groan. I am again shoved inside.

The office is all dark wood and smoke. Tall shelves line the walls, stacked with books so old their spines look ready to crumble. A fire roars in a stone hearth, heat crawling over my skin. Behind an enormous desk sits a man who looks like he’d been carved from stone and then set on fire for good measure. His hair is the colour of ash, his eyes like molten embers that burn hotter the longer they stare at me. Fredrick Scorched. Principal of Thornhill Academy. “Sit,” he says, voice a rumble that seems to vibrate the floorboards. I stay standing. My boots planted firm, my arms crossed. His eyes narrow, but I’m not about to play the tame little stray just because a dragon shifter with a fancy chair tells me to. Scorched flicks his hand toward the enforcers. “Leave us.” The one with missing eyebrows looks like he might protest, but the other nudges him out the door before he can open his mouth. The latch clicks shut, and suddenly, the room is too quiet. Just me and the dragon. “What is your name?” he asks. I raise my chin but don’t answer. “And what sort of magical are you?” His words are clipped and precise. I stare back, unblinking. The silence stretches until it’s cracked. He tutts softly, shaking his head as if I were a misbehaving child. Then, with one deliberate finger, he presses a brass button set into the corner of his desk. “Send in Professor Hill,” he says into the intercom. I feel my pulse jump. He leans back again, those ember eyes pinning me in place. “Never mind, we’ll get those answers out of you one way or another.” A few seconds later, the door opened and in walked trouble.

Professor Hill is the kind of tall that makes you instinctively want to look up and keep looking. His frame is lean but strong, shoulders filling out the dark, tailored jacket he wears. His skin is a warm bronze tone, his jaw sharp enough to cut glass, and his dark hair falls just long enough to brush the collar of his shirt. His eyes are a startling shade of storm-grey, sharp and knowing, as if he can already see straight through me. His mouth… Full lips, curved like he’s one smirk away from my ruin. I swallow hard, my throat dry. Scorched gestures lazily toward him, smoke puffing from his nostrils as he speaks. “Professor Hill, although a master of potions and poisons, also has a rare gift. He can read minds.” My stomach drops. My mind is currently replaying about six different filthy scenarios involving storm-grey eyes and what that mouth could do...Shit.

Chapter One: The Songbird Returned.

Qiara’s POV:

I sat in my window staring out into the garden. My fingers clicked on the window as I pondered my next move. In just one week I’d already changed my fate rapidly, being reborn most certainly had it’s perks.

A week Ago.

My breath tore out of me as I jolted upright in bed. A sharp pain clawed through my chest, my fingers digging in as if I could force air back into my lungs by sheer will. My heart hammered violently—too fast, too frantic, too alive.

Alive.

My eyes darted around the cramped matchbox of a room I’d lived in until I turned twenty and married the man I still considered one of life’s worst jokes. This place shouldn’t exist for me anymore. I shouldn’t exist in it.

Because I was dead.

The last thing I remembered was hovering over my own memorial service, watching my piece‑of‑shit family squeeze out tears for the audience like trained performers. I remembered the disgust. The grief I never got from them in life. The bitter, petty satisfaction in death.

So how was I back here?

Sweat trickled down my forehead as I clutched the sheets. My legs trembled when they hit the floor, as if I had to relearn how to use a body I no longer owned. I scanned the room for answers I already knew wouldn’t be there.

I didn’t even know what day it was. Hell, I didn’t know the year.

I stumbled to my dresser, where my old phone lay face down as though waiting for me. When I flipped it over, the screen glowed bright enough to burn the moment into my mind forever.

February 19th, 2025.

My throat tightened. No… no way. If that was right, then I was twenty again—half‑formed, wide‑eyed, still studying at StarCrest, the famed performing arts school in Novell. One of the most prestigious states in the Western Continent. A place I had fought tooth and nail to get into.

It also meant I was only engaged to Desmond Carrington. Not yet married to the trash heap wearing a man’s skin.

None of it made sense. How did I get here? What twisted miracle—or curse—had rewound my life?

And then it hit me.

The screen.

The questions.

The pen floating in purgatory’s hollow light.

The final words glowing back at me—

GOOD LUCK.

Had my answer really dragged me back? Had fate handed me a second chance—or shoved me into a cosmic joke?

Fear and excitement crashed into each other inside my chest, sending my pulse into overdrive. There was only one way to know the truth. I needed proof—something undeniable, something I remembered with absolute clarity.

And I knew exactly what moment was coming.

I bolted out of my room, feet pounding down the hall as I raced toward the kitchen. The instant I pushed open the door, the scene unfolded exactly as it had the first time: my so‑called family cheering, celebrating Angelina’s congratulatory letter from the Garden East committee. Her supposed “talent” on full display, their praise flowing like they were auditioning for “Most Supportive Family of the Year”.

Of course, none of them acknowledged that Nicholas had bribed a judge to get her in.

My gasp slipped out before I could stop it. All their heads snapped toward me.

Marcus sneered first.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

Christian followed with a scoff.

“Why are you standing there like you’ve seen a ghost?”

A ghost. Oh, the irony. If only they knew. Not long ago, I was the ghost.

Angelina stepped forward, wide‑eyed and trembling in that delicate, innocent way she had mastered.

“Oh, Qiara! Please don’t be angry with me. I know we agreed neither of us would enter, but my friends said I had such a good chance, and I— I just couldn’t help it. Can’t you be happy for me?”

Agreed? More like our parents forced me not enter siting Angelina would feel bad if she got in over me.

Turns out, they just wanted to make sure I didn’t enter. What a fucking joke.

Classic Angelina though—spin a narrative, gather pity, and let everyone else fill in the rest. She wasn’t a great singer, but by God, she could act.

Right on cue, the choir chimed in.

“Jesus, Qiara!”

my mother snapped, her voice dripping venom.

“Why are you always so negative? It’s your sister! Be happy for once!”

My father added,

“Can you do nothing but start trouble?”

And my fiancé—my beloved fiancé—sighed dramatically.

“Honestly, Qiara… why do you make everyone around you miserable? Can’t you be more like Angelina?”

Nicholas’s sneer sharpened.

“Of course she can’t. She was raised by low‑class country fools.”

My fists clenched so hard my nails nearly drew blood. They never missed an opportunity to insult the only people who had ever loved me.

Then my father decided to play dictator.

“If you don’t stop bullying your sister, you can forget about your monthly allowance! Now apologize!”

I stood perfectly still, letting silence stretch between us. Then a slow smirk curled across my lips.

“You’ll have to forgive me, Father… but considering I haven’t said a single word, I’m not sure what exactly you want me to apologize for.”

His face flushed—humiliation buried hastily beneath arrogance. He would’ve rather swallowed glass than admit he was wrong.

“I—well… good. Just don’t cause trouble for your sister!”

I beamed at him, all false sweetness.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Then I turned to Angelina.

“Congratulations. I just ‘know’ you earned every bit of that letter.”

Their stunned expressions were priceless—especially Nicholas’s.

Yes, dear brother, I know exactly what you did. And I’ll use it when I’m ready.

I walked away before any of them could recover, a cold, satisfied smile settling on my face.

It was real.

All of it.

I had truly been reborn.

As the first rays of dawn gently filtered through the curtains, Elora stirred in her bed, a smile already tugging at the corners of her l**s. Today held the promise of something extraordinary, and her heart danced with anticipation. It was Saturday, a respite from the mundane routine of school, and she relished the freedom it offered. With a contented sigh, Elora stretched beneath the cozy embrace of her blankets, savoring the warmth of her bed. Though she was never one to shy away from the pursuit of knowledge as she really enjoyed studying, the thought of another day at the pack’s school filled her with a sense of dread. She had always felt like an outsider among her peers, never quite fitting into the intricate social fabric of the school’s hierarchy, and to say that she was not popular would be an understatement. Compared to her, Alena, her twin sister, was Queen B and everyone sought her attention. Instead of being inseparable and having a strong bond like other siblings, her sister just ignored her. Her sister was born almost 10 minutes earlier and she was always the dominant one. But today, Elora pushed those thoughts aside, focusing instead on the present, as she had a second reason for happiness. Today was not just any ordinary Saturday; it was the eve of her eighteenth birthday, a milestone she had been eagerly counting down for as long as she could remember. At the s****e of midnight, she would officially come of age, and with it, unlock the long-awaited connection to her wolf. Elora couldn’t help but grin at the thought. For as long as she could remember, she had yearned to meet her wolf, to feel the primal bond that connected them on a level deeper than words could express. It was a legacy passed down through generations, a sacred pact between the werewolves and the Moon Goddess herself. As a member of one of the largest packs in North America, with nearly a thousand strong, Elora felt the weight of her heritage resting upon her shoulders, especially as her parents were the Betas of the pack. Led by the powerful Alpha Blackwood, their pack was a powerful pack in the werewolf community, so they were well respected. But aside from meeting her wolf, there was one truth that had always eluded Elora — the identity of her mate, the other half of her soul. It was a mystery that had consumed her thoughts for as long as she could remember, a puzzle waiting to be solved in the depths of her heart. She spent countless hours before sleeping, trying to imagine who could be the chosen one that the Moon Goddess paired her with. Her heart bounced in anticipation as she knew that finally she would not be alone anymore. Loneliness was her constant companion which was always present in her life.

chapter 1

The wind had teeth that night. Snow fell in sharp white flecks, dusting the streets and the blacktop in a glittering glaze. Celia Quinn tightened her scarf and hurried through the storm into the hotel lobby. Cold clung to her cheeks, but there was a lift in her step anyway. Yesterday, her boyfriend Ethan Carlisle had texted her and told her to be here at seven. He’d attached a photo too—a stage dressed up like something out of a fairy tale. That was when she remembered. Today was their one-year anniversary. For the past two months, Ethan had been talking about taking two full days off together. Really celebrating. A Ferris wheel, he’d said. They’d kiss at the very top with the whole city lit beneath them. Or a mountain spa resort, because she worked too much and needed to breathe. Then, a week ago, she got sent out of town on assignment, and every plan went on hold. Apparently not all of them. He’d still prepared everything. Even not knowing if she could make it back in time. Warmth had bloomed in her chest. Guilt, too. The soft kind. The kind that made her feel like maybe she hadn’t been fair to him. So after getting his message, she’d pulled two all-nighters, filed everything early, grabbed the first midday flight home, and came straight here with travel still clinging to her coat. The second she stepped into the lobby, the hotel manager crossed toward her. “Sorry, ma’am. We’re closed for a private event tonight.” Celia nodded. “I know. I’m here for Ethan Carlisle.” “Oh—my apologies. Mr. Carlisle’s guest. Of course. Right this way.” The manager straightened immediately. He led her to the elevator and pressed the button for her with a polite smile. “The engagement party started at 6:06 p.m.. You’re just in time for the highlight.” A tiny twitch pulled at her eyelid. Engagement party? Whose? The thought that surfaced was so absurd it should’ve died on contact. It didn’t. But she didn’t ask. She kept it to herself and stepped into the elevator. As the doors started to close, the manager’s gaze skimmed over her on instinct. Dark espresso cashmere belted tight at the waist in a neat bow. Slim calves under the hem. Cream leather ankle boots with melting snow beading at the pointed toes. Money, yes. But it was her face that landed hardest. Her eyes tilted slightly at the corners, bright and liquid, a look that could ruin a man’s judgment in under a second. Too beautiful to be called pretty. Too gentle to be called dangerous. The mix of both was what made it lethal. He’d seen celebrities, socialites, women who lived in couture and demanded to be stared at. Very few had looked like this—and not one of them, the bride upstairs included, had been prettier. The elevator doors sealed shut. When they opened again, light poured in and spilled over her. The ballroom was all money and excess—crystal chandeliers, towering arrangements, velvet draping. Red rose petals carpeted the floor, thick and soft underfoot, their scent warm and cloying in the overheated room. Celia barely saw any of it. Her eyes went straight to the stage. And locked. The man in the white suit stood under a wash of crystal light—handsome, polished, expensive, his warm eyes curving with the same practiced charm he wore everywhere— as he lowered his head. And slid a ring onto another woman’s finger. She tugged playfully at his lapel with a flush of excitement, whispered something only he could hear, and rose on her tiptoes to press a lingering kiss against the corner of his mouth. For a split second, he angled away—instinct, maybe. Then he let it happen. Her kiss landed on his cheek anyway. Applause broke out. Whoops. Laughter. Champagne-bright approval from every direction. Onstage, under all that light, the beautiful couple folded into each other like the ending of a movie everyone had already paid to believe in. It should’ve looked romantic. But for Celia, that sweetness was almost painful to look at. Sharp, searing—then the ache came flooding in. And beneath the ache, the peaceful calm she had built around her heart began to churn. Because that man— That smiling, gentle, warm-looking man— was her boyfriend. Ethan Carlisle. Young heir to Stone & Co. Enterprises. Rich, charming, easy with everyone. The kind of man people called a catch without irony. The kind of man women excused too much from because he looked at them like they were the only person in the room. He’d chased her for two years. Relentlessly. Almost everyone around them had called it true love. A year ago, she’d finally said yes—worn down by his “persistence” and “sincerity”. She never expected barely three hundred days later—while she was out of town for work—he would slip an engagement ring onto another woman’s hand. Celia drew in a shaky, deep breath. Cold spread through her, thin and metallic. She looked down at the phone clenched tight in her palm. He’d sent that message yesterday—and nothing after. Every call she’d made since had gone straight to his dead phone. So who sent it? Who wanted her here to see this? Celia shut her eyes for one beat. The pain gave her something to hold on to. She clung to her clarity like a handrail in a storm. She could’ve walked out. Maybe she should have. But her gaze stayed pinned to the stage like it had been nailed there. She watched the happy couple cut cake. Pour champagne. Step down into the crowd wrapped in applause and congratulations and intimate little smiles. A whole ring of happiness closed around them. And she was outside it. Pretending this didn’t hurt would’ve been a lie. Whatever this was—whatever he’d done—she wanted to hear him say it. She lifted her phone and called him again. This time, it rang. Across the ballroom, she watched Ethan glance down at his vibrating phone. His expression flickered—a flash of panic, there and gone. He forced a smile at the people around him, muttered some excuse, and strode toward the exit, phone still buzzing in his hand. The second he looked up, he saw her. And stopped cold. For two full seconds, he just stared. The blood drained from his face so fast it was almost violent. “Cece?” His voice shook. “You—what are you doing here?” A second ago, he’d looked like the golden boy of the hour. Now the mask was in pieces. He looked at her, panic flickering all over his face. “Aren’t you supposed to be out of town?” “Yeah.” Her voice came out low and soft, iced over at the edges. “I worked straight through so I could get back early. Thought we were spending our anniversary together.” Her eyes flicked past him, over the glittering ballroom, the engagement banners, the sea of guests. Then back to his face. “Guess not.” “Cece, wait—just listen to me.” His hand shot out and wrapped around her cold wrist. “This isn’t what you think. Charlotte Mercer and I—it’s not real. It’s just for show. Her dad owns Vanguard Bio-Tech. Our company’s in the middle of negotiating a deal with them, and you know how my mom is. She’s been pushing this alliance forever. If I screw this up now, she’ll lose it. My dad will cut me out of the company. I didn’t have a choice, okay?” Celia let him finish. Every word. Then she said, her tone mocking and level, “Ethan, don’t insult my intelligence. A toddler could see through a lie that pathetic.” She dropped her gaze to his hand around her wrist and peeled his fingers away one by one. Then she gave a cold, soundless laugh. “So what’s next? If I caught the two of you in bed, would you tell me your mother drugged you and that was just for show too?” His mouth opened. Nothing came out. “I knew your mother never thought I was good enough. I stayed because I believed you were and you loved me. But you already made your choice. So I’m done being the only one fighting for this.” Celia lifted her eyes to his again. Steady. Clean. No tears. “Ethan, let’s end it.”

The Overlooked Twin Is the Pack's S-Class Warrior

Chapter 1

　　When it was time to confirm academy placements, everyone crowded around my twin sister, Sarah.

　　My brother Owen pointed at the top-ranked combat academy in the entire wolf domain. “Obviously, Elvorz. Come be my junior—I’ll have your back.”

　　Wesley, my childhood friend and our pack leader’s son, queued up promo videos for an equally prestigious tech institute right in front of her. “Don’t listen to him. Come to Otos with me. Four more years—as classmates.”

　　Mom and Dad chimed in, smiling. “The central city’s perfect. Someone’ll look after you there. We’d worry a lot less.”

　　It took them a long while to remember I needed to confirm my placement too.

　　“Katherine, your wolf is weak. Just pick any Omega academy in the central city.”

　　Without looking up, Owen added, “Yeah. That way all four of us are in the same city. Easy to meet up on weekends.”

　　Wesley scolded me, as usual. “You’ve got half an hour before the placement window closes. Don’t be so damn forgetful.”

　　I slowly crumpled the academy guide in my hands.

　　When we were kids playing make-believe, Sarah was always the princess everyone fought to save. Owen was the knight sworn to protect her. Wesley was the prince who’d cut through anything.

　　And me? I was stuck playing the wicked witch everyone hated. Turns out growing up didn’t change a thing.

　　Since no one wanted me around, I’d pick the academy farthest from home. Long roads, high mountains—no reason to look back.

　　***

　　When I still didn’t answer, Wesley snapped at me, his green eyes brimming with impatience. “Sarah and I both put down Elvorz. Hurry up and pick something in the central city.”

　　I stared at the “S-Class Warrior” rating glowing on my screen, but I couldn’t smile. After three years of grinding with my wolf, I’d crushed the aptitude test and scored higher than I ever had in any simulation.

　　Both academies they’d just mentioned would fight to have me. But when the test ended, no one asked how I did. And the day the ratings dropped, no one cared what mine was.

　　Because the second Sarah walked out of that exam, her eyes were red and swollen. “I don’t think I did well. What am I gonna do?”

　　Mom and Dad said the test didn’t matter. She was still the sole heir to Dad’s Beta title. Owen shrugged it off. “Who cares? I’ll become the strongest warrior in the whole domain and protect you forever!”

　　Wesley soothed her. “Sarah, even your worst day beats anything Katherine can do. Her wolf’s so weak it can’t even shift.”

　　“If she totally bombs it, we’ll just do another year together. Coach Katherine up on the side.”

　　In their eyes, I was only ever good for one thing: making Sarah shine. Because she wasn’t just beautiful—she’d mastered shifting between human and wolf by thirteen, won the pack’s Best Young Warrior badge at fifteen, and inherited every single gift from Dad the Beta and Mom the pack’s strongest warrior.

　　Every person who met Sarah wanted to hug her, kiss her, praise her.

　　Me, her older sister? Plain-looking. Didn’t shift until I was fifteen, and it only happened once. After that, my wolf just lay there lazy inside me, refusing to help no matter how much I cried and begged.

　　Mom and Dad forced a tight smile. Friends and relatives could barely scrape together a “She’s… sweet. Nothing wrong with being ordinary, right?”

　　When I was little, I thought sweet was a compliment. So when Mom and Dad bought Sarah pretty princess dresses and nothing for me, I didn’t throw a fit.

　　When Owen brought snacks home only for Sarah, I didn’t fight for any. Even in summer, when Sarah got the heart of the watermelon and I got the rind, I didn’t complain.

　　Because in those moments, Mom and Dad would actually look at me. They’d say, “That’s our Katherine. Always looking out for her sister.”

　　Growing up, I existed in the shadow of Sarah and Wesley. I wasn’t even allowed on the same training field. And now, after I’d finally clawed my way up, they still looked at me like I was that same useless Katherine.

　　I couldn’t help asking, “You said Otos was your dream school. Are you seriously not going?”

　　Wesley blinked, then let out a dismissive laugh. “What’s the difference between Elvorz and Otos? What matters is where Sarah wants to go.”

　　He’d told me over and over that Otos was his dream. Now Sarah says one sentence and he tosses it like garbage. Suddenly the last scrap of attachment I’d been holding onto felt pathetic.

　　Without a word, I dragged the mouse to the top of the list and typed into the search bar: Crimson Garrison Academy.

　　A combat academy at the southernmost tip of the wolf domain, under the Blackthorn Pack. Twelve hundred miles from our territory. Just as far from the central city.

　　Click. Submit. Confirm.

　　Done in one breath.

Bait

Veil.

Today is my sixth anniversary with my mate, Alpha Ryder of the Ghostriver pack. However, instead of celebration, I’m wallowing in pain as I watch the scene before me.

A scene I’m forced to watch with omegas holding me down like a prisoner and laughing at my misery.

Ryder is on our matrimonial bed, making out with omegas.

My cheeks drench with tears, and my wolf whines at the pain he’s causing us.

“Ryder…please. Stop!!!” I cry, struggling for the omegas to release me.

“Shut up, bitch!” Leila, his beta’s daughter, barks, sending her fist to my cheek. The slap stings so hard my vision blurs for a minute. “Didn’t the alpha instruct you not to speak!? Who do you think you are to defy him?”

“She thinks she’s the Luna…” Another omega echoes beside Leila, laughter in her voice. “She doesn’t know she’s nothing but a mutt.”

Ryder laughs at their words, continuing his actions with the omegas.

I don’t understand why he’s doing this to me.

I’ve been so supportive of Ryder ever since I abandoned my pack to be with him. The Ghostriver pack was nothing but a crumbling, wretched pack in our world, but I helped him rebuild it to what it is today.

I sacrificed my bond with my old pack, my money, everything just to please Ryder, and yet he’s never valued me.

Ryder has been punishing me in the worst ways imaginable, always forcing me to watch him bed other women despite knowing what it does to my wolf.

He’s made my wolf weak, and yet he verbally abuses me for having a weak wolf that doesn’t match his strength as an alpha.

More tears rush down my face in a frenzy as I hear him pounding and ejaculating in another omega.

“Why, Ryder?” I sob, forcing the words out. “Why do you keep doing this to me!?”

“I’ve done everything just to make you happy. I’ve abandoned my family for years as you demanded…”

“I helped you rebuild your pack and yet…” The pain cracks my voice, making me trail off.

“Please…stop. Stop hurting me. I beg you…”

Sweat beads on my forehead. My head dangles aside as my pulse begins to fade.

I can barely feel my wolf.

I’m hoping Ryder will listen, that he’ll stop. Instead, laughter is the response he gives me.

He rises from the bed and walks to where I’m forced to kneel, smirking.

“Stop hurting you?” He sneers, his brown eyes glinting. I nod slowly through my tears. “Why would I do that? You and your pack are the reason I lost my parents…”

I look up at him in shock, my mouth dropping open.

“That useless, impotent alpha your mother married killed my parents and left my pack in ruin…” he scoffs, tsking. “And those asshole stepbrothers of yours called “Three devils” ridiculed me, thinking the world belonged to them…” he laughs harder.

I flinch when he crouches and claps my chin hard, his fingers digging into my skin. He bores his eyes into me, snarling. “Your worst mistake was ever thinking this mate bond will make me fall for you, Veil. It took me years to find a way to ruin your pack, and you…you were just the right bait.”

No…

He can’t say that.

I’ve loved Ryder from the very moment I found out he’s my mate.

It didn’t matter that we’re from rival packs or that I was disobeying my mother’s husband, Alpha Moon. It didn’t matter that my Stepbrothers were against it. I just wanted to be with my mate, and I eloped with him when everyone least expected it.

“Every day you’re here, Veil, you’ll pay for what they did to me. What’s the best way to do that than to punish that stupid wolf of yours that chose to bond with me?”

The omegas’ laughter deafens me. Unrestrained tears plummet from my eyes.

This is too much.

This pain.

This punishment for a sin I didn’t commit.

It isn’t my fault that my mother married Alpha Moon as his fourth wife, and I became a part of the family that made him suffer.

“Ryder…please. I didn’t do anything. I’m innocent, I swear. My mother…”

“Shut up!” Ryder howls and hits me on my belly. The impact makes me wheeze, and my head reels.

I land on my back, squirming in pain on the floor. The omegas force me back to my knees, and Ryder holds me by my hair, making my scalp burn.

“You’ve always been naïve, Veil. What were you expecting? That I’ll treat you better after what that wretched polygamous family of yours did to me and my pack? They claimed all that was mine. They left my pack poor, my people dying…”

My body trembles seeing the cold, dangerous look in his eyes.

His wolf is about to surface, and if it does, the punishment worsens. I’ve had Ryder’s wolf throw me out through the window during one of his alpha haze, a moment where his senses are clouded by his pheromones. It’s a moment of complete rage.

I spent one month in the infirmary, trying to recover from the injuries. With my wolf weak, my natural fast healing ability has become almost impossible.

Now that his wolf is surfacing, panic surges inside me.

“Now, I’ve gotten almost everything back, thanks to you. So it’s time I make you feel what I experienced. You’ll watch me please my omegas, and you’ll do nothing…” his eyes glow, fangs slowly starting to bare.

He rises back to his feet, eyes still pinned on me.

“If you so much as blink, Veil, I’ll make sure to lock you up in the dungeon forever.”

My throat parched, I nod as laughter echoes in the background.

I watch through my tears as Ryder pulls Leila forward and claims her lips in front of me.

My wolf groans in pain, the mark on my neck scorching my skin.

Ryder takes her, praising her and cursing our bond.

I heave, my chest constricting.

When he pulls away from Leila, I almost think he’s done, but it’s as if the universe is mocking me for having hope, no matter how small.

Ryder pulls Leila into his chest and bares her neck.

Oh no.

He can’t do that

He can’t mark another woman when he’s still mated to me. It’s going to kill my wolf entirely.

But he does it anyway.

I watch my mate mark Leila. Instantly, fire races through my body. My belly knots.

“Ry…der…” I croak, feeling it, the last breaths of my wolf.

As if that’s not enough, Ryder’s voice ripples through the room. “Tonight, before these omegas and my chosen mate, Leila Havenwood, I, alpha Ryder Widow of Ghostriver pack, reject you, Veil Nightsaw, as my mate and Luna.”

“No!!” I howl at the pain that lances through me. It’s the worst of all the pains he’s put me through.

Fated mates aren’t supposed to reject each other because of the chances of one dying.

In this case, the outcome is already clear. With my wolf gone, I’m nothing. Just a weak, pathetic wolfless girl who was betrayed by the man she loved. The mate given to her by the moon goddess.

The wave of dizziness hits faster than I anticipated, and as my breath further slows, my vision gives way to darkness.

It’s over, I echo in my mind at the crushing reality.

Chapter 1 

Twenty–four hours remained until my wedding day. 

I was going to drag Luca Carter, the cold, solitary heir of the mafia Carter family, straight into total 

ruin on the proudest day of his life. 

Every girl he dated, every mistress he hid from me–all of them had an invite. 

The second we got to the ring exchange, I’d snatch the mic. I’d lay every lie and betrayal he’d hidden 

from me for seven years out bare, right in front of every guest and family member. 

I’d print every chat log and transfer receipt into booklets, and stuff inside every wedding favor box, 

Everyone would witness his filthy secrets. 

Then I’d lift my chin high and walk out of that rotten ballroom for good. 

This wasn’t some petty scene. It was the most dignified funeral I could give our dead, worthless 

romance. 

Eight hours after I posted that tweet, Luca’s groomsmen banged hard on my hotel room door. 

I glanced at my reflection in the mirror, draped in my wedding gown. 

The makeup artist was incredible. I’d cried straight through last night, soaking my pillow completely, but no trace of my swollen and tear–streaked eyes showed. 

My best friend Chloe, my maid of honor, pulled the door open for them. 

A flood of men poured in–eighteen groomsmen, a huge, intimidating group. 

But the man I was supposed to marry wasn’t among them. 

The lead groomsman wore an urgent, excited grin as he spoke to me. 

**“**Miss Collins, Mr. Carter’s wedding lead car got into a fender bender on the way. He sent us to escort you first, and he’ll meet you directly at the church.” 

Before I could respond, Marco, one of Luca’s closest friends, cut in. 

“That’s right, Miss Collins. Don’t worry a single bit. Even without Luca here, we’ll get you safely to 

the church.” 

Chapter 1 

MoboReader 

INSTALL 

She took a bullet for him. He served her divorce papers. Her real family owns.. 

12.50% 

He slung open a black backpack hanging off his shoulder and started passing out cash envelopes stamped with the official Carter family crest. 

He only handed two out before he froze**,** staring at the stacks left unclaimed inside the bag 

“Miss Collins? Luca promised you the perfect wedding–eighteen bridesmaids to match the 

groomsmen. Where are the rest of them?” 

I ignored his question entirely. 

I stepped forward, snatched every envelope out of his hands, then ripped the black backpack off his 

back and shoved it into Chloe’s arms. 

Wondering where my other seventeen bridesmaids vanished to? Some were printing every filthy 

chat log between Luca and his mistress. Others were at the church tweaking projectors to roll all 

their private bedroom clips and photos. The rest were out welcoming every ex Luca had strung along for years. 

Late last night, Luca’d called me up, swearing he’d prepared some special surprise just for me. 

I’d foolishly thought it was some sweet pre–wedding romantic gesture. 

But when I followed the address he’d given me to his black Cadillac, I found him tangled up with 

another woman inside the car. 

I slammed my fists hard against the car windows, but Luca dragged his feet. 

He didn’t climb out until they’d finished. He pulled his slacks on, buttoned his shirt lopsided. His 

neck was covered in a trail of lipstick marks, then he opened the car door. 

Before I could even fire off a single question, he lit a cigar and spoke in a calm, empty tone. 

“Elena, I let you find us on purpose.” 

“I’m tired of sneaking around with her after we’re married. I wanted everything out in the open 

you.” 

for 

“The woman in the car’s my high school sweetheart. Truth be told, you’re the other woman here.” 

“But my mother adores you, and our family needs this alliance to boost our influence**.** We already signed the marriage license, so you’ll be Mrs. Carter forever, the future Donna of the family. Just  

chapter 1

While her husband mated with another woman, Nia Reed was forced to stand by and soothe his raging instincts.
Because Soren Shaw possessed Lycan blood, he could only find release through his wife's scent; without it, he would lose control and slaughter whoever was beneath him.
"...Ugh... Ah..."
"Ah... Soren..."
From behind the screen, Nia could see Soren's powerful figure thrusting fiercely, her heart aching with unbearable bitterness.
Five years ago, Soren had defied his pack's ancient laws just to marry her.
"A union between a Lycan and a human will never produce a living pup!" the pack elders had raged. "Marrying her means ending our bloodline!"
But Soren's love was unyielding. He threw a vasectomy report right in the elders' faces, declaring, "If marrying Nia means I die without an heir, then so be it!"
This reckless act provoked rebellion and vengeance from the pack.
During one of Nia's dance performances, they cut her safety wires. At the critical moment, Soren rushed onto the stage to break her fall; Nia only suffered a leg injury, but he broke three ribs.
While he was recovering, they set fire to their villa to burn her alive. Again, Soren arrived just in time, shielding her from a falling roof beam. Nia only lost a few singed hairs, but his body was left horribly scarred.
Finally, Soren threw himself in front of a speeding truck for her, thrown thirty feet away and fell into a month-long coma.
The first thing he said upon waking was, "Nia... I promised to keep you safe... and I keep my word..."
At that moment, looking into his eyes, Nia wept. She surrendered, agreeing to let Soren sire a pureblood heir with Rhea Hale, a noble lady of the pack.
"Ah... relax..."
The lustful sounds snapped her back to reality, her fingernails digging into her palms until they bled.
She had naively thought the farce would end once Rhea became pregnant. She never expected Rhea's excuse—that the mother needed the father's comforting aura—to keep them coupling night after night.
Worse still was Soren's shift. From a reluctant single encounter at the start, it grew to a routine three times, and tonight, they had gone eight rounds!
Whenever Nia broke down and refused to watch, Soren would use the grand excuse, "Just do it for our child," telling her to endure it.
The thought made her dizzy, a sharp pang rippling through her abdomen and twisting her insides. She truly didn't know how much longer she could take this torture.
Finally, hearing the low groan indicating the end behind the screen, Nia felt as if her entire soul had been shredded. She turned and walked away.
But ten minutes later, news spread that Soren had caught the scent of blood, lost control, and hurt Rhea. Nia was bound tightly and dragged out into the pouring rain to kneel in punishment.
Soren's mother stormed over and slapped her hard. "If anything happens to my precious grandson, I will take your life!"
"She tried to murder the next Alpha heir! She should be thrown into the wolf pits and torn to pieces!" the pack members spat, pelting her with stones.
Even Soren's voice carried blame and confusion. "Nia, Rhea is only a month away from her due date. Why did you have to resort to such petty tricks?"
Nia couldn't believe her ears. Looking up, she met his accusing gaze, and her heart felt as if it were pierced by a dagger.
It didn't matter if his mother struck her or his pack cursed her. But Soren—Soren was the one person who shouldn't doubt her!
Straightening her spine with what dignity she had left, Nia said clearly, "I didn't hurt anyone!" Beside her, her pet dog, Snowball, whimpered pitifully as it was pinned into the mud.
But Soren wouldn't listen to a single word. He was convinced she had let out her bleeding pet and left early, scheming to trigger his feral instincts so he would maul Rhea.
"Nia, every mistake has a price." Soren suddenly covered her eyes.
"What are you doing?!"
Deprived of her sight, her hearing became sharp. She heard Snowball let out a tragic yelp, followed by a sickening thud of something heavy hitting the ground. A gasp rippled through the crowd.
Nia screamed in despair, "No!"
They had rescued Snowball on a rainy night. Back then, Nia had pitied the pup, saying, "He's just like me, unwanted."
Soren had wrapped the puppy in his jacket, his eyes burning with intensity. "Who says he's unwanted? I want him."
Later, he brought Snowball home and married her. Through all these dark days, the dog had been her sole comfort.
"Nia, no one will punish you anymore," Soren said, gently patting her head.
"Young Master! Miss Hale is awake!"
Dropping his hand, he spun around and left in a hurry. As Nia's vision slowly cleared, the pool of blood before her crushed her, and her tears flowed.
He hadn't just killed Snowball; he had shattered the final bond between them. He didn't want the dog, and he didn't want her anymore.
Soren's mother smiled in satisfaction as she watched her son leave. "Rhea's pup will be born in a month. On the night of the delivery, I will ensure Soren dissolves your mating bond. You will take a flight out of Crown City by then."
"You see where Soren stands. Don't get in the way of their happy little family."
A happy little family...
Nia finally realized how foolish she had been. Looking back at the absurdity of the past year, a sudden clarity washed over her.
She was the one who had pushed Soren into another woman's arms!
He was no longer the Soren who would act as a human cushion when she fell from the sky, who would shield her from falling beams in a fire, or who would stand against the whole world just for her.
He was the father of Rhea's child. They shared a biological tie that could never be broken.
Was she supposed to just endure this until they lived happily ever after, watching him surrounded by children and grandchildren?
Picturing Soren's cold, retreating figure, Nia's heart died. "Fine. Once the mating bond is dissolved, I will leave."
For a Lycan couple, dissolving a mating bond required carving out the bond mark with their own hands. Once severed, they would never be able to catch each other's scent again.
No matter where she fled in the world, Soren would never find her.

chapter 1

Beep! Beep! Beep!
Kiara shot up, lungs burning, her breath coming hard and fast.
The bedroom around her felt both strange and familiar, sending a chill through her chest.
I'm supposed to be dead, aren't I?
In her previous life, after surviving one extreme weather disaster after another, she was betrayed—trapped in a cave by her dad and half-sister, who brutally peeled off her flesh to sustain themselves.
The memory of her final moments was so vivid and horrifying that sweat drenched her back.
The phone kept ringing. She wiped the sweat from her forehead with a trembling hand and pulled it out from under the pillow.
Yara Sharp's name flashed across the screen. A shadow flickered in her gaze. She jabbed the button to reject her call sharply.
She and Yara had a score to settle—one she would never forget.
But then she froze, her eyes went wide.
The date glared up at her from the screen—May 15, 2030, 2:29 p.m.
Is this a dream?
She pinched her arm hard. The sharp pain told her it was real.
Kiara had been reborn—five years earlier, in the last quiet stretch before the end of the world.
Kiara remembered the day perfectly. July 3rd, 2:49 a.m.—the volcano on the island nation of Joplor, which had been dormant for three centuries, suddenly erupted without any warning. Lava poured for a whole week.
An entire nation vanished.
No one realized then that it was just the beginning.
Soon after came the unbearable heat. Temperatures soared to 167°F and stayed there until October.
Millions died.
Then came the rain—torrential, endless.
It was as if the sky had been torn open, dumping more water each day than the last.
In less than a month, catastrophic flooding swallowed the great cities of the world, grinding modern civilization to a halt.
When the rains finally stopped, the survivors barely had time to catch their breath before the deep freeze arrived—ice storms and blizzards that swept across the globe.
And then ... earthquakes, hurricanes, sandstorms, tsunamis, glaciers collapsing into the sea—disaster after disaster, until most of humanity was gone.
Those who remained could hardly still be called human.
By her count, there were less than two months before the apocalypse began.
Kiara forced herself into motion, heading to the bathroom to splash cold water on her face.
The woman staring back from the mirror had bright, clear eyes and flawless skin—a round, youthful face—completely unlike the hollow-eyed survivor worn down by years of relentless struggle in her past life.
Her gaze dropped to the pendant at her neck—a Madonna pendant passed down from her grandmother.
In her previous life, five years into the apocalypse, while fleeing another attempt on her life from Yara, her blood had accidentally stained the pendant's crystal inlay. She accidentally discovered its secret—inside was a storage space where time stood still.
Crops could grow. Supplies never spoiled.
Trapped in that cave as Yara's food supply, Kiara had thought a thousand times—if she could start over, she would make full use of that space.
Without thinking twice, she grabbed a brow razor, cut her finger, and let a drop of blood fall onto the Madonna's face.
After a flash of light, she heard the sound of running water. Before her appeared a gentle hillside of nearly 20 acres, covered in fertile fields. At its heart stood a two-story wooden lodge, sprawling over more than 50,000 square feet.
She stepped inside the empty lodge and focused.
With a faint whoosh, a massive four-door refrigerator appeared in the corner of the living room.
Just like before.
It was only when the dizziness hit her that she pulled herself out of the space. Her nose felt wet. She touched it with a tissue—nosebleed.
The space could hold living creatures, but intelligent beings suffered if they stayed inside too long. Nosebleeds, vertigo, weakness.
In her last life, she'd died before finding a cure for those symptoms. This time, she would find a way.
There was no time for sentiment. The clock was ticking. There was too much to do.
She sat down at her desk, opened a blank document, and started typing.
After five years of scavenging and trading to survive, she knew exactly which supplies would be the most precious.
Seven pages of lists later, she reviewed, double-checked, and then scoured the web for more ideas. Three more pages followed before she finally leaned back.
Then came the hard truth—how much money did she actually have?
The answer made her want to cry.
Once, she had been the proud landlord of three prime high-rise buildings in Zloria's Harborview district. Now, she had less than 200,000 dollars in cash.
Her grandmother had made a fortune in the gem trade, but Kiara hadn't inherited her gift.
Her mother, hopelessly romantic, had married Hugh Sharp—a charming gambler who slowly drained her of everything she owned.
Only her grandmother had seen through him. Before she died, she converted her assets into those three Harborview towers and put them in Kiara's name, forbidding any transfer of ownership.
After her grandmother's death, the rent from those towers was all that kept Kiara and her mother afloat.
Hugh couldn't access that income, so he revealed his true nature, bringing home his mistress and Yara, his illegitimate daughter, who was only a few months younger than Kiara.
Her mother had taken it hard. She jumped to her death.
Naïve and craving family, Kiara became Hugh's new cash cow, funding his happy household and Yara's spoiled upbringing with her rental income.
If not for the apocalypse, she might still be bankrolling those parasites.
Her jaw tightened. She grabbed her phone and unblocked a real estate tycoon who'd been pestering her for months. "Mr. Swanson," she said, "do you still want those buildings? I'll give you a steal—twenty billion. Transfer today, contract today."
There was a pause. Then came a delighted laugh from Garfield Swanson. "Deal. I'll have the papers drawn up immediately."
He knew exactly how valuable that property was—the location was prime, and Garfield had already heard redevelopment was coming. Twenty billion for all three was a steal.
Two hours later, Kiara stepped out of Garfield's office.
Her bank balance now had nine glorious zeroes, which eased her worries.
Now came the fun part—shopping.
She moved fast—renting several massive warehouses in Eastgate, each over 30,000 square feet.
Then she drove to the farmers' market and bought premium rice, flour, cooking oil, spices, canned goods, sausages, cured meats, and every dairy product she could store, instructing vendors to deliver directly to her warehouses.
Two million gone in one trip, and she didn't haggle, paying without thinking.
Water wasn't a problem—her space had fresh, drinkable streams. These supplies could keep her alive for a lifetime.
With food secured to keep her alive, the next on the survival checklist was clothing.
The apocalypse brought deadly, unpredictable weather, and survival often came down to the right gear.
She rented a small truck and headed to Cloudwood, a district crammed with garment factories. Most of the larger ones usually filled overseas orders that produced quality products.
But with the apocalypse looming, shipping them abroad no longer made sense—better for her to seize them now.
It took effort, but she finally got a meeting with a factory manager.
Kiara ordered T-shirts, jeans, sweaters, long down coats, snow boots, sneakers, thermal underwear, hiking boots, tents, parkas, hats, and scarves.
To avoid looking like a lunatic and getting thrown out, she kept her order relatively modest—requesting multiple sizes in both men's and women's styles.
Even so, Kiara read from her list for a solid 30 minutes without stopping, leaving the factory manager's jaw hanging open.
Who ordered that many clothes in one go and for every season? It wasn't like the end of the world was coming. What was the rush?
He had good reason to suspect she was just here to mess with him, and the list in her hand was all the proof he needed.
Sensing his expression growing darker by the second, Kiara calmly pulled out her bank card. "I can pay a deposit now."
"20 million," the manager said after a pause, taken aback by her seriousness.
Flush with cash and not shy about spending it, Kiara swiped the card right away. "I want this order fast—ideally finished within a month. And while speed is important, so is quality."
The factory manager's stern look vanished instantly, replaced by a fawning smile. "Of course, ma'am."

Chapter 1 Somebody Please Save Me

"Dig it! Dig it out! Come on, give me that beast core!"

F-268, Astralis Forest.

The pond shimmered like glass under the afternoon sun. A female dressed in a combat suit stood atop a beast as large as a semi-truck, her 6.5-foot-long blade crackling with blue lightning. With one hard swing, the steel sliced straight into its skull, sending sparks flying.

"Ha! Rank 4 beast core!" she shouted, voice echoing across the trees.

Her grin was wild. "I'm rich. I'm freaking rich! Just one more of these babies and I can walk away with nine smoking hot mates."

She hopped down from the beast's head, her sword still buzzing with static. One of the creature's massive fangs hit the dirt with a heavy thud.

Emma Tibarn still recalled her first day in this world. Five years had passed, but it stuck with her like a bad dream.

It had been the summer after her freshman year. She'd gone back to her hometown to drop by her grandma's grave. Coming down the hillside, her foot slipped on wet stone. Next thing she knew, she woke up in a place where nothing looked familiar. A pig with wings came charging at her like some sick cartoon gag.

Lucky for her, a hunting squad had been nearby. They took her in, patched her up, and dropped her off in the nearest city. That was when she found out she wasn't on Earth anymore. She was smack in the middle of an interstellar empire filled with therians.

She had been just a normal human girl—tiny, weak, confused, scared out of her mind. She honestly thought about smashing her head against a wall to see if she could reset the game and go home.

Then, she learned one crucial fact: in this world, females were treated like queens.

The gender balance was insane. Way more males than females. Which meant females got the red-carpet treatment—houses, stipends, and the best perk of all: the Beastmate System.

Once a female turned twenty-three and awakened her ability, the system would assign her nine partners at once. Every two years, she got a new draft pick. There was no limit. If she could handle the lineup, she could collect mates like baseball cards.

Emma didn't need a stadium full of people. Nine was plenty. She was small. More than that, and she might not survive the honeymoon.

So, awakening was non-negotiable.

The Intergalactic Awakening Division handed out Divine Seeds for free. It was rumored that the seeds originated from the twin root of the Beast God himself.

Therians who ate the seeds had a sixty percent chance of awakening their abilities.

The awakened therians were called "Etherians" and lived between 800 to 1200 years.

The unlucky rest? They ended up as Subtherians and only lived up to 120 years.

Emma had gotten lucky. Within a month, her lightning-based and water-based abilities lit up like fireworks. Jackpot.

Then, the government relocated her from S-1231, the forgotten edge of the empire, straight to F-268. She figured she could coast—collect her allowance, live in a fancy house, level up at a snail's pace, and wait until her twenty-third birthday rolled around.

Sounded perfect. Nine gorgeous males lined up to dance for her every night? Yeah, she could live with that.

However, that dream quickly went up in smoke. She learned that matching worked by rank. Low-tier females only got low-tier males. The higher your rank, the hotter your lineup. Some low-tier males were... let's just say, ugly as hell.

Emma was shallow enough to admit it. She could deal with being broke, but ugly mates? Hard pass.

So, she began grinding and hunting beasts.

To climb the ranks, there was only one way: crack open a beast or a Chitinid, a type of armored insect-like creature, and claim its core.

Most female Etherians in the Empire had family wealth and backup squads to protect them. Emma? She was on her own—no family name or resources to support her.

She had tried to tag along with other Etherians at first, but the moment they saw she had no clan behind her—and was a rookie who'd only just awakened—they all backed off fast. Nobody wanted the burden.

So, she had no choice. If she wanted cores, she had to march into the forest alone, face down beasts, and take what she needed. Scary? Sure. Still, it was better than sitting around waiting for a miracle.

It was pure terror at the start. Razor teeth snapping, claws slicing, and blood shedding everywhere. She almost died more times than she could count. Yet ugly bedmates scared her more than fangs and claws.

chapter 1

Isabelle Foster woke up in a bed she didn't recognize.
She looked around groggily at the unfamiliar room and tried to piece together what had happened. Yesterday was the department dinner, and she'd accidentally had way too much to drink.
After that...
Her mind suddenly snapped into sharp focus as the memory hit her. His deep groans still echoed in her ears like they were haunting her.
She cut off that train of thought right there and just wanted to get the hell out of this mess.
She picked up her torn white shirt from the floor, but there was no way she could wear it out like this. Her hands shook as she tossed the ruined fabric aside, and then she spotted a clean outfit laid out on the bed. He'd obviously left it there for her—a professional skirt suit.
She threw it on as fast as she could. The clothes weren't her usual style, so he'd probably just grabbed something random to deal with the situation.
When she checked herself in the mirror, she noticed her neck was completely clear, but everything below her collarbone was covered in marks.
Ha! Am I supposed to thank him for being a gentleman or something? Like he was so worried about people knowing he'd slept with someone!
Isabelle sighed and walked out of the bathroom, taking in her surroundings.
This was a massive suite, but it felt completely lifeless, like no one actually lived here. It didn't quite feel like a hotel, but it also kind of did.
She grabbed her purse from the nightstand and headed for the door.
Turns out it definitely wasn't a hotel.
When she opened the bedroom door, a huge living room stretched out in front of her, and a familiar figure immediately caught her eye.
He was sitting on the couch wearing headphones, with a pillow balanced on his lap and a laptop resting on top of it. He was wearing black loungewear and looked totally relaxed and casual.
When he heard the bedroom door open, he looked up with those intense eyes of his.
The man sitting there was her boss, Damian Cross.
Wasn't he supposed to be this legendary CEO who never got involved with anyone?
Based on last night's performance, he definitely wasn't holding anything back. He'd acted more like a starving wolf who'd been locked up for decades.
She stood there completely stunned and was about to say something when Damian spoke first.
"I'm in a meeting." His voice came out low and rough.
Isabelle shut her mouth immediately because she knew exactly what he meant.
"Come here and eat breakfast." He leaned forward slightly and used his fingers to push a glass of milk across the coffee table, sliding it in front of another plate of food.
But he didn't notice that when he leaned forward, the hickeys all over his neck pressed right up against the camera, and every single executive in that meeting got a crystal-clear view.
Isabelle's face turned bright red with embarrassment. Those were probably hers—she hadn't realized her, uh, suction skills were that intense.
She really wished this was just some hotel room where she could walk out the door and go straight home.
She sat down with shaky hands and kept her eyes wandering everywhere except at him. All she could do was obediently sip her milk and eat the sandwich that looked exactly like his.
Damian had a reputation for being cold—cold personality, cold temper, just cold in every possible way. So yeah, Isabelle had basically messed with the wrong guy. She must've gotten in the wrong car last night.
But even if I got in the wrong car, why wouldn't this ice-cold boss realize I was the wrong person? He'd just slept with an employee. Didn't he care about his reputation at all?
Fifteen minutes later, he wrapped up the meeting and closed his laptop. Then he finally started eating his breakfast at this leisurely pace.
"Sorry, I didn't know it was your first time. I was a little rough." His tone stayed just as cold as it had been during the meeting, and his face showed absolutely zero expression while he said it.
Isabelle had just gotten her emotions under control, but now her face flushed red all over again.
What happened happened. Could you please just stop bringing it up?
"The family doctor will be here soon. Wait until after you see him before you go." His voice was completely matter-of-fact.
Please, is he worried I'll get pregnant with his kid and try to claim his fortune or something?
Isabelle finished the milk and picked up the glass of water next to her. She drank it slowly, one sip at a time, because she had no idea what to say to him.
He ate really fast and finished everything in no time.
"Just wait here. I still have to go into the office today, so I'll have my assistant drive you home."
Isabelle quickly tried to stop him. "Mr. Cross, I can get home by myself. It's no trouble at all."
"Are you saying I didn't perform well enough last night?" He looked up slightly, and something in his expression almost seemed hurt.
"What?" For some reason, Isabelle's heart started pounding like crazy.
How could I possibly dare say that? She was completely speechless and had no idea how to argue with what he'd just said. This was the first time in her life someone had verbally steamrolled her like this.
If he wasn't her boss, she would've already lost her temper and told him off.
"Mr. Cross, Dr. Morgan is here." An older maid appeared nearby.
He didn't say anything. He just kept watching Isabelle quietly.
Isabelle was gorgeous—smooth, sun-kissed skin and beautiful golden hair. She was mixed race, and absolutely stunning.
Her body was incredible too, the kind that made other guys jealous of whoever was dating her.
All the staring made her uncomfortable, and her cheeks were already red before her whole body started heating up.
"Come with me." Damian's voice cut through the tension, and he let out this barely audible sigh through his nose.
Isabelle obediently followed him because what else was she going to do? She'd somehow managed to piss off one of the biggest names in fashion.
When they got back to the bedroom where they'd gone at it all night, her heart started pounding and her palms got sweaty just looking at that bed.
At least the maids had already cleaned everything up and made it spotless.
A female doctor walked in, and then Damian walked out and closed the door behind him.
Isabelle thought maybe she was getting the morning-after pill or a shot or something, but no. The doctor was there to examine her down there and apply medication.
It was absolutely mortifying having someone else inspect last night's damage like that.
Though she had to admit, the ointment really did help with the soreness.
She kept her hands covering her face the whole time because she wanted to die of embarrassment.
When she finally came out, Damian was already gone.
The only person waiting for her was Brian Hughes, Damian's assistant.
Brian was her age—they were both 22—and they'd graduated from the same university, interviewed at the same time, and started working on the same day. The only difference was their positions.
He was Damian's only assistant and pretty much his right-hand man.
Isabelle stood next to the car and looked at Brian sitting in the driver's seat with that stupid grin on his face, and she felt like her dignity was scattered all over the ground with no way to pick it up.
She got in the car and stared out the window, mumbling, "I got in the wrong car last night, didn't I?"
"Yep, future Mrs. Cross." Brian was clearly enjoying himself, and then he launched into this dramatic play-by-play.
"I've known you for a while now, and I've never seen you drink that much. You got in the wrong car, stumbled in, threw your arms around Mr. Cross, called him Baymax, and then just went to town kissing him. It was aggressive!
"Last night, Mr. Cross had been drinking a little too, but he didn't even dare move. You know he's got that whole germaphobe thing going on, right? Well, you ripped his shirt. Buttons went flying everywhere."
She hung her head and tried not to picture it too vividly.
Brian added, "We were gonna take you home, but since you live alone, Mr. Cross was worried you'd be a mess by yourself, so he brought you to his place instead."
"Ha." She forced out a laugh.
"So, you and Mr. Cross..." Brian looked her up and down.
She had to hand it to Damian—he'd been smart about it. There wasn't a single mark on her neck.
"Exactly what you're thinking." She pointed at her unmarked neck.
Brian raised an eyebrow. "Guess Mr. Cross was being a gentleman after all."
"Sure was." She drew out the words sarcastically. A gentleman. More like a fake gentleman.

I Took the Wolfless Fat Girl’s Virginity

ISIDORA

I clamped my lips shut so I wouldn’t scream when the sudden pain hit between my legs.

My eyes burned, then blurred. A few tears slid down anyway as I stared at the dark, filthy wooden panel in front of me.

My knees were on fire from staying in that humiliating position and still... I’m the one who wanted this. I’m the one who chose to give my first time to the guy I liked.

Lucio. The son of a prosperous merchant from the Midnight Pack. A man I never, ever thought would notice a girl like me.

The same man who was now pounding inside me, taking my virginity roughly.

I knew it would hurt the first time. A friend warned me. So I guessed this was normal and the next times would be more... pleasurable?

My body rocked forward and back, harder and faster, his harsh grunts behind me, my palms scraping raw against the wood. Tears kept running down my cheeks. 

No matter how hard I tried to stop shaking... I couldn’t stop crying.

This wasn’t how I pictured my first time. Not in a dirty barn. Not on all fours. Like an animal.

“Aaagh...” Lucio’s sudden roar came with a hot rush that flooded me. “Mmm. Didn’t think I’d even cum with you... but they’re right. A hole’s a hole.”

The words hit worse than the pain. Half an hour ago he’d been treating me sweetly, like he cared, like I mattered. I didn’t understand... did I do something wrong?

Was this what they called dirty talk in bed?

I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want to ruin everything with my lack of experience.

“My love... ah...” I moaned, more from hurt than pleasure, when he yanked his cock out of me so hard I had to grit my teeth. Sweat ran down my forehead.

The scent of blood hung in the air. While he stood up, pulling up his pants and zipping his fly, I stayed there like an idiot, trying to get up.

“Lucio, help me...” I reached out, desperate for anything warm, anything gentle. His face twisted into a mocking grin.

“I already helped you. Who else would fuck a fat girl like you? So you’re the one who should be thanking me... you’re welcome.” He looked at my naked body with pure disgust.

My trembling hands flew to cover my breasts.

He’d asked me to stay naked before I stepped into the stall and now I felt so stupid I could barely breathe.

“Lucio, what are you talking about? My love, I...”

“For Goddess’s sake, if I hear you call me ‘my love’ again, I’ll cut my ears off! Enough, idiot. Get it through your head, this was a bet! You really think a Beta like me would ever commit to a fat, wolf-less servant girl?”

I started shaking my head, tears pouring nonstop from my green eyes.

My chest hurt so bad I thought it might tear apart.

Thank the Goddess my wolf never showed up when I turned eighteen... or I’d be destroyed right now.

“Wait, Lucio, you can’t do this to me! You told me you loved me... You’ve been trying to win me over for months. What did I do to deserve this?!”

I lunged for his legs as he kicked the stall door open and stepped outside.

My fists closed on air, barely brushing his clothes. I begged him to stop, but he left me there, thrown aside like a used rag.

Something slick and disgusting slid between my thighs... his cum mixed with my blood and my humiliation.

I grabbed the wooden panel to force myself up and stumbled after him. I needed an explanation or I was going to lose my mind.

But the second I stepped out, I froze in the barn aisle.

“There it is. Proof I won the bet, boys...” Lucio laughed, weighing a bag of coins in his hand, standing beside two other men who stared at me like I was meat.

I covered myself with my hands, trembling hard, panic choking me as I took a few unsteady steps backward.

My eyes snapped to my red-flowered dress in one of their hands.

The same dress I’d left draped over the wooden door because Lucio asked me to.

I’d saved up so much to buy it. I wanted to wear it tonight for him.

“I fucked the fat virgin from Estingia Tower,” he said, snickering.

“Lucio, I don’t believe it... you... you...” The words wouldn’t come. My throat was a knot and my sobs were trying to split me open.

“You bastard. You trash. You piece of shit!” I finally managed, drowning in tears.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Boys... she’s all yours. In the dark you can pretend she’s hot. Her pussy’s probably still tight and she’s got big tits.”

“No... no... Lucio, don’t do this, please... please...” My voice cracked. “Help! Somebody help me!”

I started screaming when I saw them coming at me, unbuckling their belts.

Their faces twisted with sick lust. And Lucio told me I could scream all I wanted because nobody came out here.

I looked at his dark, mocking eyes in the distance as he walked away.

The face of the man I fell in love with for the first time... the man who sold me for a few coins after playing with me.

I felt my soul shatter. How could I have been so blind?

He left me alone with them. Hate mixed with fear and adrenaline slammed through my veins.

“Come here, pretty. We’re gonna have fun,” one of them said, and he lunged, setting everything in motion.

I wasn’t going to stay and get r4ped... again.

I ran back into the stall where I’d lost my virginity and slammed the door in his face, hearing his howl.

There were sacks of grain tossed to one side. I shoved them hard to block the entrance.

They cursed outside and rammed the door with violence.

Those sacks wouldn’t hold long. My frantic, tear-soaked eyes found a small window high up.

My only way out... but I seriously doubted I could fit.

I don’t know if it was pure desperation, but I dragged an old barrel from a corner.

I climbed onto the lid, the wood about to give under my weight, straining to hold me. And I wasn’t exactly light. Yeah... Lucio was right. I was nothing but a fat girl trying to squeeze through a tiny window.

“Come on, come on...” I begged, shaking.

I jumped and started shoving all my curves into the frame.

My feet kicked in the air. The barrel rolled away and I ended up half out, twisting and pushing, my wide hips becoming my worst enemy.

“I heard something. Push, damn it, move. Let me do it!” A crash shook the stall as the door got kicked.

“She’s escaping through the window, grab her legs!”

I heard the shout mixing with my own scream as I shoved with everything I had, splinters carving deep into my skin.

The frame finally widened and suddenly I was tipping headfirst into the grass.

“Aah!”

I hit the ground hard, barely managing to protect my head, my whole body going numb with pain.

But before those men could catch me, I got up and ran toward the cover of the dark forest.

Tears wouldn’t stop. My fat, clumsy legs kept pounding down the path I knew by heart.

I glanced back in horror when I heard them closing in.

I had to make it to the creek and lose them.

Lucky for me, they didn’t seem to know this area well, near Estingia Tower.

People from the neighboring pack didn’t come near the border between our territories. They weren’t allowed.

My heart hammered so hard I thought it might burst when I reached the creek. I climbed down the slope and dropped into the water.

I still had my shoes on, so at least the soles of my feet were protected. I fought not to slip on the pebbles, but I couldn’t help splashing anyway.

They were already here.

But I also saw the old, rusty, half-broken grate at the base of the wall.

I threw myself at it, pushing with all my strength until it gave.

On my hands and knees I squeezed through, the way I’d escaped this way so many times before, hidden by the dark. Then I eased it back into place, closing it softly just in time to hear their voices on the hill.

“Where the hell did she go?”

“I can smell her. She’s close. She’s gotta be hiding in the riverbank brush. Let’s search.”

“No. Enough of this. If the guard warriors catch us, they’ll shoot first and ask questions later. We crossed the limits.”

“But Lucio said one of them ordered it. Someone with power. We have to finish the job.”

My heart kept pounding as I crouched in the darkness, listening, praying they wouldn’t notice the drain grate.

An alarm call rang out from above and I heard them run off, the cowards. But something lodged itself in my mind like a thorn.

Someone from Estingia Tower ordered this?

Who hated me enough to break me like this?

I stayed there, naked, shivering with cold, swallowing my sobs while I replayed that humiliating night again and again.

I had to get back to my room before dawn and slip past the guards without being seen.

Lucky for me, I knew how the sentries rotated along the walls, so I crept back inside the pack of powerful women I worked for as a servant... Estingia Tower.

The servants’ building sat off by itself, and hiding in corners, ducking behind trash cans, I managed to reach my room on the first floor.

The second I shut the door behind me, a light clicked on and I almost jumped out of my skin.

“Dora... what?” My friend Elessia sat up on my bed, hands flying to her mouth as she took in the wreck of my body. “What happened to you, by the Goddess? I was waiting for you...”

“Ele... he played me. It was just a bet. He played me...” I broke, repeating it like a loop.

I collapsed to the floor, hands over my face, sobbing so hard I couldn’t breathe.

My whole body was covered in cuts and bruises, but what hurt the most was my soul.

My best friend’s arms wrapped around me tight while my broken sobs disappeared into her chest, and she threw every curse she could think of at that bastard Lucio.

I was shattered... and the worst part was, someone inside this place did this to me.

But who hated me enough to spend months planning my fall?

The next day... I got my answer.

I slammed Springer’s head against the brick of the alleyway. If he breathed, he’d be purple by now. He was 5’9” with nearly white blond hair and violet eyes. It was the bloodline of my sire that gave him those eyes, and I was about to take them back if he didn’t have the money he stole from me and a damned good excuse for his flippant message. “Grrllbplmm.” Springer gurgled. My lip curled into a snarl. I wanted to properly crush his throat. After everything I had done for him, for nearly eighty years, the little bastard stole from me! I’d spent fifteen years tracking him down. All the way to America! I had to live out of a suitcase while trying to figure out where he’d gone! No servant to take care of my needs! Nothing! It wasn’t until a donor told me about a spell which hid you from others’ sight, that I figured it out. My work was put on hiatus while I tracked my wayward childe. Fifteen damned years! Going dormant for that long, leaving my territory for that long. I was homeless and reputationless now. Only a rumor, a ghost, in the world of the undead. His little game had cost me everything I’d worked for. I tightened my grip on his neck. Taking his head off would make me happier than any damage I could do now, but I wanted more than a pound of flesh. Of course he wouldn’t be able to tell me anything if I crushed his throat. At least, not until he healed and I didn’t want to wait that long. I sighed, let him down, and stepped back. Springer dropped to his knees gripping his throat. I glared at him with disdain. “Well, where is it?” I growled. “I spent it all. I’m sorry, master! Please, don’t kill me.” He begged. He was only a hundred years old, but he’d been trouble since before I brought him over. He wasn’t my first choice for a childe of mine. If not for the fact that his father had been a dear friend of mine, I wouldn’t have. Jacob always regretted having me turn his son. So did I. He’d wanted his son to live, but life as a vampire wasn’t the same as life as a human. It had taken decades for the boy’s memory to come back. Just in time for him to sit by his father’s death bed. – “What did you spend my money on, Springer?” I hissed, stepping closer again. “A house, cars, blood, clothes. They’re all yours… well, except the blood.  I don’t think her parents will sell her, but I can tell you who to contact to feed on her.” He offered eagerly. “Parents? You fed from a child?!” I saw red. The words of the witch who had told me about the concealing spell rang in my head. He was hurting someone. He was hurting a child.   That was my one rule when it came to feeding. Never feed from someone who isn’t able to understand what they’re offering. Not the mentally disabled, not children, not intoxicated people, not the elderly. The punishment was death. “It wasn’t my fault! I said it as a joke and the mom just let me! I didn’t know how to handle it when she took my joke seriously. Her mom insisted on triple the payment and let me have the girl. So… I fed on her.” He insisted. “You tell her, you were only kidding and NO ONE feeds on a child. What kind of parents would let that happen? Is her mother an addict?” I asked, livid. “No. Super middle-class average family. She was selling blood because they needed the money. Now, I think they do it so they can play more.” “How long have you been feeding on the girl? You implied it was more than once.” “Ten years. I usually see her once a month. Last time, her parents said, if I doubled my payment, they’d let me take it from the artery in her thigh. That’s why I’ve been working as an enforcer. I needed the money. She’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted, master. I was addicted from the first drop. It’s been hell these last couple months, trying to earn it.” Springer whined. I snarled. “How many others feed on her?” They would all die. Ending with Springer. Taking advantage of children made them monsters in fact instead of in name. I wouldn’t let myself, my bloodline, or my people be tied to creatures who would do that. “Silence is the broker. She’d know who else. She doesn’t know that we book with the mom and feed on the kid. Silence just thinks the mom is popular because she’s AB-. It’s harder to find here.” Springer said. “Until I take care of this, you will stay in town. Spells won’t work this time. If you run, I will tie you to a tree and let the sun take you. Do you understand?” I said in a deadly tone. “Yes, master.” “Take me to my house.” I ordered and he led the way to his car, which was now mine as well. – We drove through the city to an upper class neighborhood. Houses were large and spaced far apart. He pulled up to a gated driveway and pressed a button on the visor to open the gate. There were security cameras on the stone posts that the iron gate was attached to. The long driveway was lined with trees. Lamps were dotted along the path, but they weren’t lit. As we approached the house, I was even more impressed. It was a large colonial style house. The porch had columns that reached up to the top of the second floor. It was white with blue shutters and a blue door. He parked the car and we went in. The entry was vast with a marble staircase and marble floors. Nothing was on the walls and he made no move to turn on a light. A cheap table stood nearby and the fake wood print paper on it scratched as Springer tossed his keys onto it. I winced. A house like this didn’t deserve cheap furniture. I wish I could say that was the worst thing. Unfortunately, he’d decided to decorate the house with furniture and items he found either on the street or at Wal-Mart. It was inexcusable. He’d been here for nearly a decade. He should have decorated the first winter he was there. Stores were open after sunset in the winter. There was no excuse for such a disgraceful setting. “This is appalling. You have no window coverings, where do you sleep?” I asked. Springer pulled out a flashlight and showed me down to the basement where there were no windows. A mattress lay on the floor. The smell of dirt, dust, and mildew tainted the air and made me sneer in disgust. Why would a man buy a house like this if he were planning to live in the basement on an old mattress like a junkie? I thought I’d suffered. He did this to himself through his own laziness and thoughtlessness. “You’ve lived here for at least ten years without basic utilities. Without moving out of the basement. Why didn’t you get a human servant to take care of your needs?” I asked. “I tried, but I couldn’t keep them. They fell out of my thrall in three days.” He admitted. “You didn’t feed them any of your blood? You were just using your mind control?” I pressed. i***t. “I… I didn’t think to do that. Sorry, master.” Springer hung his head. Even when he was alive he’d been flighty and impulsive. It had caused the wound that made his father ask me to save him. Forever twenty and seeming to be mentally as ageless as he was physically. I sighed. This city was perfect. The vampire population was low enough to not have many conflicts, but large enough to never feel alone. There were plenty of humans to feed on and a blood broker when you didn’t feel like hunting. I was sure there was a daytime servant agency as well, Springer just hadn’t thought to look for it. “Give me the address for Silence, then I want you to prepare a place for me to sleep that is clean and safe. When I return, you WILL be here. Do you understand?” I growled. “Yes, master.” Springer bowed and dug through his wallet, handing me a card with a heart dripping blood and the name of the broker on it. I grabbed the keys on the way out and put the location in the sat nav in the car. I had to find the vampires who fed on the girl and end them, have Silence remove the mother from her menu, and figure out a way to make it up to the girl who my i***t childe turned into a delicacy in this territory. At least one of those things could be finished tonight.

Chapter 1

“Fate is not an eagle, it creeps like a rat.”

– Elizabeth Bowen

If you were to ask my parents to describe my older brother, they’d tell you he was a natural leader. Fearless and courageous, the kind of man born to lead armies.

And if you asked them to describe my sister, they’d gush about her sweet disposition and her selfless heart.

But me?

There’s only one word my parents would use to describe me: human.

You might not think that "human" could be used as an insult, but somehow, I’ve spent my entire life wearing this word like a badge of shame. When I showed up on my Alpha father’s doorstep at twelve, he told the rest of the pack that I was there because of my human mother’s failure. I was thrust into the wolf pack – literally – but my status as the only human there made me an instant outcast. I couldn’t run or wrestle or shift into wolves like the rest of the neighborhood kids. I’d never meet my mate or experience that instantaneous true love that mated pairs had.

I was still the Alpha’s kid, and while that might’ve saved me from the bullies, it didn’t mean I fit in. The werewolf world was drastically different from the human one, and to them, my humanity was a weakness.

My father never told me he was ashamed of me, but I could still feel his disappointment – it hung in the air every time he called me his human daughter or explained that I was the product of a short affair with a human woman eighteen-years-ago.

My stepmom, my father’s true mate, did try to make me feel included. She was the epitome of the perfect Luna – gentle and good-natured – but I could still tell she was ashamed of me. If there was ever evidence that her family wasn’t perfect, I was living proof of it. Every time she looked at me, she was reminded that her mate had cheated on her.

Try as they might, none of this made a good recipe for the perfect family. I’d spent six years living under my father’s roof, in his pack, and in the werewolf world, but I’d already accepted that I’d never fit in there.

*Or so I thought. *

Despite making plans to go to college far, far away from the pack that had no room for me, my life was about to change completely. Something – technically, someone – was about to ensure that there was plenty of space in the werewolf world for this ordinary little human.

*Dear Clark Bellevue,

After carefully reviewing your application, it is with regret that we inform you that we are unable to offer you admission into the University of Florida at this time. We appreciate the time and effort put into your application, but unfortunately, this year’s large pool of applicants has made our decision difficult and we have limited space for each admitted class.

We are confident you will go on to achieve great things in your studies, and we wish you the best in your academic journey!

*Best Regards,

Dean of Admissions

University of Florida*

I read the rejection email at least five different times, my eyes darting across the screen for something I might’ve missed. Unfortunately, there was no hidden message to be found – it was just another generic rejection email from another college that didn’t want me. My senior year of high school was ending, and although I had applied to an endless list of colleges, I’d only received three rejections and one waitlist.

Most of the schools I applied for were state schools with decent academic records – but really, all I cared about was finding a college that was far away. Somewhere far enough where I’d have an excuse not to make it home on the weekends or for most holidays.

Given that I lived in cold, rainy Washington, Florida’s sunny (and distant) climate would’ve been perfect – but it didn’t look like that was going to happen.

“Clark!”

My pity party got cut short by the sound of my sister, Lily, yelling my name. I barely had time to exit out of my sss screen before Lily was bursting into my room without even a knock.

Chapter 1

“Fate is not an eagle, it creeps like a rat.”

– Elizabeth Bowen

If you were to ask my parents to describe my older brother, they’d tell you he was a natural leader. Fearless and courageous, the kind of man born to lead armies.

And if you asked them to describe my sister, they’d gush about her sweet disposition and her selfless heart.

But me?

There’s only one word my parents would use to describe me: human.

You might not think that "human" could be used as an insult, but somehow, I’ve spent my entire life wearing this word like a badge of shame. When I showed up on my Alpha father’s doorstep at twelve, he told the rest of the pack that I was there because of my human mother’s failure. I was thrust into the wolf pack – literally – but my status as the only human there made me an instant outcast. I couldn’t run or wrestle or shift into wolves like the rest of the neighborhood kids. I’d never meet my mate or experience that instantaneous true love that mated pairs had.

I was still the Alpha’s kid, and while that might’ve saved me from the bullies, it didn’t mean I fit in. The werewolf world was drastically different from the human one, and to them, my humanity was a weakness.

My father never told me he was ashamed of me, but I could still feel his disappointment – it hung in the air every time he called me his human daughter or explained that I was the product of a short affair with a human woman eighteen-years-ago.

My stepmom, my father’s true mate, did try to make me feel included. She was the epitome of the perfect Luna – gentle and good-natured – but I could still tell she was ashamed of me. If there was ever evidence that her family wasn’t perfect, I was living proof of it. Every time she looked at me, she was reminded that her mate had cheated on her.

Try as they might, none of this made a good recipe for the perfect family. I’d spent six years living under my father’s roof, in his pack, and in the werewolf world, but I’d already accepted that I’d never fit in there.

*Or so I thought. *

Despite making plans to go to college far, far away from the pack that had no room for me, my life was about to change completely. Something – technically, someone – was about to ensure that there was plenty of space in the werewolf world for this ordinary little human.

*Dear Clark Bellevue,

After carefully reviewing your application, it is with regret that we inform you that we are unable to offer you admission into the University of Florida at this time. We appreciate the time and effort put into your application, but unfortunately, this year’s large pool of applicants has made our decision difficult and we have limited space for each admitted class.

We are confident you will go on to achieve great things in your studies, and we wish you the best in your academic journey!

*Best Regards,

Dean of Admissions

University of Florida*

I read the rejection email at least five different times, my eyes darting across the screen for something I might’ve missed. Unfortunately, there was no hidden message to be found – it was just another generic rejection email from another college that didn’t want me. My senior year of high school was ending, and although I had applied to an endless list of colleges, I’d only received three rejections and one waitlist.

Most of the schools I applied for were state schools with decent academic records – but really, all I cared about was finding a college that was far away. Somewhere far enough where I’d have an excuse not to make it home on the weekends or for most holidays.

Given that I lived in cold, rainy Washington, Florida’s sunny (and distant) climate would’ve been perfect – but it didn’t look like that was going to happen.

“Clark!”

My pity party got cut short by the sound of my sister, Lily, yelling my name. I barely had time to exit out of my Gmail screen before Lily was bursting into my room without even a knock.

“Clark, I’ve been calling you for the past five minutes,” she sighed, leaning against my door frame, “Were you watching another trashy reality show or just tuning out my voice?”

Although we were half-sisters, Lily and I hardly looked alike. She was tall, fair-skinned, with long, blonde locks that never seemed frizzy or out-of-control. Her and my brother both shared my father’s bright, blue eyes. Her eyes were her best feature, and they constantly seemed like they were trying to poke beneath the surface.

“Sorry, I wasn’t trying to tune you out, Lil,” I said, “What’s up?”

Her piercing blue eyes narrowed, but she seemed to accept my apology. “Dad wants to see us, there’s a big meeting tonight at the pack house. A bunch of people are going to be there.”

My eyebrows furrowed. Pack meetings weren’t unusual for our pack, but I wasn’t usually required to attend. As Blacktooth Pack’s only resident human, I wasn’t a huge part of pack business. I couldn’t shift, which meant I couldn’t participate in patrols or defend the pack.

“Why is dad asking for me?” I asked.

“Not sure,” Lily shrugged, “He just told me to come get you. I’m sure it’s for a good reason, dad wouldn’t bring you around if it wasn’t. Come on.”

Lily didn’t waste any more time waiting for me, and I watched her strut out of the room.

Not even the golden child knows why I’m being summoned, I thought, this must be important then.

I followed Lily out of my room, and we descended the stairs in silence. With high ceilings and hardwood floors, our family house was one of the largest in the pack – a perk that came with being part of the Alpha’s family. Photos of Lily and my brother, Sebastian’s, accomplishments hung on the walls like the trophies they were: Lily as a baby, Seb at his first pack football game, Lily at prom with her friends.

As I expected, Dad, Seb, and Grace were all waiting in the living room. Dad lounged in the recliner like it was his throne with Grace perched on his lap while Sebastian stood awkwardly by the mantel.

“Ah, girls, there you are,” Dad said, and his booming voice echoed around the room, “We’ve got a pack meeting tonight and we’ll need both of you there.”

Even in his forties, my dad didn’t look a day over thirty. He shared the same fair hair and blue eyes as Lily, and his strong jawline and intimidating frame made him look every bit like the Alpha wolf he was.

My older half-brother, Sebastian, was just as tall as my dad, but he got his chestnut brown hair from his mother, Grace. Grace – or Luna Grace if you weren’t her step-daughter – was my dad’s true mate and Seb and Lily’s biological mom. She was the final piece to this picture-perfect family my dad had created.

“Why is Clark coming to the meeting tonight?” Sebastian asked, glancing over at me. He didn’t mean it as an insult – like me, he knew I was rarely needed (or wanted) at pack meetings.

“We’ll talk about it at the meeting,” dad said, standing up with Grace, “Is everyone ready? It’ll be starting soon, we should head over.”

We all nodded.

“Oh, Clark, honey,” Grace piped up from my dad’s side, “Are you sure you don’t want to change? That outfit might be a little casual for a pack meeting.”

I glanced down at my jeans and plain black t-shirt – it wasn’t exactly glamorous, but nobody else was dressed up either. Seb had on a t-shirt and shorts, and Lily rocked a jean skirt and some sort of ruffle top.

“If it’s okay, I’ll just wear this,” I said. Grace nodded, but I could see her eyes do another sweep over my outfit.

It’s not as if I’m going to be the center of attention here, I thought, the elders will be too busy with dad, the pack warriors are going to have their eyes glued to Lily’s ass, and any unmated girls will be flirting with my brother.

If I was lucky, I’d blend into the background – and frankly, that was exactly where I wanted to be at these sorts of events.

“Enough hanging around, let’s go,” My dad grumbled, taking Grace’s hand. He led the way out of the house, Seb, Lily, and I trailing behind him like puppies – no pun intended. We walked in silence, and I took a moment to appreciate the scenery.

Our pack lived in its own forested community, which meant that most places, like the pack house, were still within walking distance. Family houses lined one side of the street, but you’d eventually run into a pack-run grocery store and infirmary if you kept walking. Pack members were allowed to leave whenever they wanted, but the setup of our community meant that you rarely needed to.

And, if you did need to, you’d still have to answer to the guards that protected our borders. They wouldn’t keep you in, but they did make it much harder to sneak out.

The little residential part of the community was just a small part of the pack, though – most of our territory was just wooded areas where wolves could run, play, and shift anytime they wanted to.

For werewolves, this was the ideal setup.

As a human who wouldn’t label themselves as “outdoorsy,” living an hour from the nearest town wasn’t exactly a high point. I wasn’t a prisoner by any means, but there were times when living in Blacktooth territory did make me feel trapped.

With guards running every inch of the property, it was hard to just come and go as I pleased. And since I wasn’t a werewolf, I couldn’t just shift and run through the woods on four legs like my siblings could whenever I wanted some fresh air.

Whether I wanted to be or not, I was a human living in the wolf’s den.

I jolted awake in bed, hearing my name from the urgency in my mother's voice on the phone. Her voice trembled through the phone, sharp and brittle. "Mom?" My throat was raw. She hadn't reached out in ten years—not unless it was the worst kind of news. "Your father—" Her breath hitched, then broke. "He's been attacked." My stomach clenched. Ice-cold fear gripped me. "What?!" "Oh, Sera, he's barely clinging to life!" my mother sobbed brokenly. I immediately threw the covers off me and jumped out of bed. "Send me the hospital address," I said in a shaky voice. "I'll be there as soon as I can." I tried not to make too much noise as I rushed down the stairs so I wouldn't wake my son, Daniel. The light underneath my husband, Kieran's, office told me he was still up. As Alpha of the pack, he always had too much to handle. And if I were honest with myself—too much resentment toward me. A decade-old mistake had bound us together. A mistake he'd never forgiven. So, I didn't plan to bother him. By the time I slid into the driver's seat, tears streaked down my face. My father had always been invincible. Unshakable. The giant of my heart, even if he'd never wanted me as his daughter. Even if he'd hated me. But I never imagined he could be taken from me like this— I slammed my foot on the accelerator. When I reached the hospital, my mother and brother sat like shadows outside the operating room. My chest tightened. Would the giant really fall? I hesitated. I couldn't bring myself to step closer. Not when their disgust had exiled me long ago. After that night ten years ago, they'd erased me. To the world, they had only one daughter now—Celeste. Should I even be here? It had been ten years since we last spoke. Even after Daniel was born, all communication with the family had gone through Kieran. My father had made it clear—he never wanted to see my face again. Would he really want to see me now? What if he didn't? What if his resentment hadn't faded? I hesitated, my pulse pounding in my ears—until the sharp swish of the operating room doors cut through my thoughts. The doctor walked out, pulling gloves off his fingers. "Doctor!" I rushed forward before I could stop myself, my voice shaking. "How is my father?" The grim expression on his face said it all. "I'm sorry. We did all we could... but his injuries were far too severe." I pressed a hand to my mouth, choking back the sob clawing up my throat. "Is he... gone?" Ethan, my brother, barely glanced at me before addressing the doctor, his voice rough. "Not yet." The man shook his head slowly. "But he won't last the night. He's been asking for his daughter." I took an instinctive step forward—then froze.

Chapter 1

I wanted to adopt a merman so badly that I pulled a few strings to get my application approved.

But once I actually brought him home, reality hit hard.

Aside from his vicious temper, I had to initiate everything whenever we were intimate, and all I ever got was a half-hearted reaction in return.

A friend even warned me that he was probably just a defective lab specimen, only fit to be put down.

I felt utterly crushed. Walking home, I racked my brain trying to figure out how to break the news to him.

But instead, I accidentally caught him on the phone with a friend.

"The human woman is a total fool, constantly degrading herself just to get my attention," he sneered. "And she actually believes mermen have two penises. Geez. I only told her that because I refuse to have sex with her.

"The funniest part is that last month, she blew half her yearly salary just to buy me a premium spa membership. It's completely pathetic.

"If getting adopted wasn't my only ticket out of the lab, I'd never have let her touch me. I really envy you, man. You ended up with a literal heiress.

"If I hadn't taken your spot in the adoption line and gotten stuck with this broke loser, the heiress would be my owner right now."

I was so furious that tears welled up in my eyes.

Had I really adopted the wrong merman?

Then, a gentle, almost ethereal voice drifted through the phone's speaker.

"If that's the case, we should switch back."

***

His voice was incredibly soothing.

Through the cracked door, I watched Ramiro Bradden freeze in obvious shock.

Then he quickly asked, "Are you serious? You actually want to do that? You can't back out later!"

The voice on the other end stayed soft but firm.

"We can sign a contract. I won't go back on my word."

Ramiro went quiet again.

A moment later, I saw him eagerly tapping on his phone, already searching up the legal transfer process.

"I haven't mated with that woman yet," he muttered. "As long as she agrees, I can leave. But your owner is highly influential. Will she actually let you go?"

The other merman replied, "She doesn't like me. She prefers dominant, aggressive types and thinks I'm too mild. She's already kicked me out."

So he was a merman rejected by his owner.

We were practically in the same miserable boat.

Ramiro's eyes lit up with excitement.

"That makes sense. You're way too submissive and lack assertiveness, so you definitely couldn't handle a demanding woman like her.

"Let's do this—you come to my house first, and I'll go spend time with the heiress. If everyone is happy after a month, we'll make the swap permanent."

"Okay," the other merman agreed, keeping his perfectly calm demeanor.

But Ramiro still seemed uneasy.

"I'll set up opportunities for you to interact with my owner, but you can't mate with her yet. You have to wait until the heiress officially mates with me. That way, neither of us loses out."

His intentions couldn't have been more obvious.

He was clearly terrified the heiress might reject him, and he wanted to string me along as a backup plan just in case.

Yet the man on the other end showed no irritation at all.

He simply agreed to every condition.

I quietly pulled the door shut, pretending I hadn't heard a thing.

I had adopted Ramiro from a biological lab a year ago.

I first applied to the program at sixteen, but my application wasn't approved until I turned twenty-four.

Adopting a merman took a massive amount of money.

I dumped nearly every cent I earned and even took out a loan just to bring him home.

Over the past year, I might not have given him a life of luxury, but I made sure he had everything he needed.

When he told me he didn't want to work, I accepted it.

I cut corners on my own food and clothes just to keep him comfortable.

After all, a lab-raised merman like him never stood a chance at a normal life.

The scientists had made sure of that—removing his structural bones and implanting an explosive tracker deep inside his body. If he ever harmed a human, it would detonate instantly.

His only real way out was to mate with a human adopter and maintain a flawless record for ten years.

Only then could the adopter shell out for the insanely expensive synthetic bones he needed to replace the missing ones and extend his life.

The problem was, most people only adopted mermen for their beauty and enchanting voices—treating them like exotic pets.

They never had any intention of dropping the time or cash on replacement bones.

But I was different.

I had always treated him as my mate.

From the moment I brought him home, I worked tirelessly, saving every spare cent just to buy those synthetic bones and give him a longer life.

Yet he despised me.

He hated that I was poor, that I had no family.

He resented me for not being able to buy him the premium body wash, and he constantly picked apart every little thing I did.

He liked to remind me that no other merman would ever put up with living with a weirdo like me.

Even during his rut, when he needed physical help to take the edge off, he acted completely reluctant.

He'd groan and complain the whole time, as if my touch disgusted him.

He'd insist that someone like me owning a merman was a total waste of his value.

Afterward, he only ever seemed satisfied if he left me covered in dark bruises and bite marks.

"Stop looking like you're making some massive sacrifice for me," he'd snap. "I hate that expression. If you actually had money, none of these problems would exist.

"You just wanted to play rich by keeping a merman, so you've only got your own vanity to blame."

Earlier that day, I'd spent hours asking a friend how to handle the situation.

She was the one who'd originally helped me with the adoption paperwork, and she just sighed.

"A pet that hurts its caregiver is too dangerous to keep," she said. "You should honestly apply to have him euthanized. Then you can save up and adopt a different species. A were-jellyfish, maybe? Or a weredolphin? If those don't work, try a wereoctopus. I hear they're incredibly satisfying physically."

I shook my head.

I didn't have the extra cash to adopt someone new.

And besides, he just had a nasty temper—surely that didn't warrant a death sentence.

For all her life, Zaniyah Holcomb had everything go her way. She was the heiress of the powerful Holcomb family and a graduate of a top university. After taking over the family business at 23, she doubled its profits within a year. She was smart, striking, and always got what she wanted. Rejection was a foreign concept to her until she met Theodore Middleton. She tried everything to win him over, but he turned her down every single time. She rented a massive digital billboard to declare her feelings, drawing attention across the city, but he remained completely unmoved. When she pulled up in a limited-edition supercar to pick him up after work, he walked right past her and headed straight for the bus stop. She even walked away from a 15-billion-dollar deal just to ask him out for coffee, but he simply frowned, saying business wasn't a game. Instead of backing off, Zaniyah got more interested. For the first time in her life, she'd found something worth chasing. Eventually, after she donated bone marrow to save Theodore's mother, Paulina Middleton, he agreed to marry her. On their wedding day, Zaniyah caught snippets from the guests about Samantha Graham, Theodore's first love, deeply loved by him and dying too young. Her fingers tightened slightly, but her smile only grew brighter. A dead woman posed no threat. Zaniyah always got whatever she aimed for. Then Ariana Herrera appeared—a bakery owner who looked almost exactly like Samantha. From that moment on, Theodore changed. He would wait in line for half an hour just to buy her pastries. He'd go out of his way in the rain to pick her up after work. If she coughed once, he'd already be calling a private doctor. Zaniyah watched it all, her pride ground down piece by piece. So, she started fighting back, and each move got more aggressive. She reported the bakery for safety violations. That same afternoon, Theodore showed up with full compliance paperwork and fixed everything. She had someone splash red paint across the storefront. The next day, he brought a cleaning crew and scrubbed it off himself. She pressured the landlord to terminate the lease. The next day, Theodore secured a better location for Ariana. This silent battle continued until Theodore returned from a business trip. That day, Zaniyah drove to the airport to pick him up. They had just gotten onto the highway when he received news that Ariana had been hospitalized. He couldn't hold back anymore. He turned to Zaniyah, his voice tight. "Did you go after Ari again?" "So what if I did?" Zaniyah lifted her chin, her tone sharp. "A mere bakery owner. She's not worth—" "Enough," he cut her off, exhaustion weighing heavily in his voice. "What will it take for you to leave her alone?" She smiled, but her eyes were ice cold. "Not a chance. I can't stand her being around—it's an insult." "Take it out on me then," Theodore said, staring straight at her, each word deliberate. "I'm the one who got involved with her. She doesn't even know anything." Zaniyah's fingers clenched, anger twisting into a bitter laugh. "Fine. Die for her then. If you're dead, I'll let her go." The words had barely left her mouth when he shoved the car door open and jumped out without hesitation. "Theodore!" she screamed, slamming on the brakes. She rushed over to him, lying several meters away, blood pooling beneath him. "Have you lost your mind?" Her trembling hands hovered over his body—she didn't dare to touch him. Theodore's lashes fluttered, and somehow he forced his eyes open. He looked at her, his voice barely a whisper. "Is that enough now?" Then, he lost consciousness. "Call an ambulance. Now!" Zaniyah shouted. At the hospital, the red light over the operating room had been on for three hours. Zaniyah sat there in a daze, her clothes stiff with dried blood. She didn't bother cleaning up. She just stared at the door, replaying the moment Theodore jumped from the car over and over in her head. He was willing to die for Ariana. Hurried footsteps echoed down the hall. Paulina rushed in, and the second she saw Zaniyah, she dropped to her knees. Shocked, Zaniyah shot to her feet. "Paulina, what are you doing?" "Zani." Paulina looked up at her, tears streaming down her face. "Let me trade my life for Theo's freedom, okay? "Please let him go. You're going to k1ll him." Zaniyah froze. Paulina's hands trembled as she pulled a document from her bag and handed it over. It was a psychiatric report. Theodore was diagnosed with severe depression, and it had lasted for three years. The condition began on the day of their wedding.

The Dawn of a New Chapter

As the first rays of dawn gently filtered through the curtains, Elora stirred in her bed, a smile already tugging at the corners of her lips. Today held the promise of something extraordinary, and her heart danced with anticipation. It was Saturday, a respite from the mundane routine of school, and she relished the freedom it offered.

With a contented sigh, Elora stretched beneath the cozy embrace of her blankets, savoring the warmth of her bed. Though she was never one to shy away from the pursuit of knowledge as she really enjoyed studying, the thought of another day at the pack's school filled her with a sense of dread. She had always felt like an outsider among her peers, never quite fitting into the intricate social fabric of the school’s hierarchy, and to say that she was not popular would be an understatement. Compared to her, Alena, her twin sister, was Queen B and everyone sought her attention. Instead of being inseparable and having a strong bond like other siblings, her sister just ignored her. Her sister was born almost 10 minutes earlier and she was always the dominant one. But today, Elora pushed those thoughts aside, focusing instead on the present, as she had a second reason for happiness.

Today was not just any ordinary Saturday; it was the eve of her eighteenth birthday, a milestone she had been eagerly counting down for as long as she could remember. At the stroke of midnight, she would officially come of age, and with it, unlock the long-awaited connection to her wolf.

Elora couldn't help but grin at the thought. For as long as she could remember, she had yearned to meet her wolf, to feel the primal bond that connected them on a level deeper than words could express. It was a legacy passed down through generations, a sacred pact between the werewolves and the Moon Goddess herself.

As a member of one of the largest packs in North America, with nearly a thousand strong, Elora felt the weight of her heritage resting upon her shoulders, especially as her parents were the Betas of the pack. Led by the powerful Alpha Blackwood, their pack was a powerful pack in the werewolf community, so they were well respected.

But aside from meeting her wolf, there was one truth that had always eluded Elora — the identity of her mate, the other half of her soul. It was a mystery that had consumed her thoughts for as long as she could remember, a puzzle waiting to be solved in the depths of her heart. She spent countless hours before sleeping, trying to imagine who could be the chosen one that the Moon Goddess paired her with. Her heart bounced in anticipation as she knew that finally she would not be alone anymore. Loneliness was her constant companion which was always present in her life. Her parents were always very busy with their pack responsibilities of being the Betas, and when they were at home, their main attention was on her sister, who always had the spotlight. Sometimes Elora felt like a shadow in the house and in the pack as well. She didn’t have close friends and at home, the same as in school, there was only one shining star: Alena. Despite this, she did not hate her sister, she just wished for things to be … different.

As Elora's thoughts drifted into the realm of anticipation, a sudden, resounding knock on her bedroom door shattered her reverie, causing her to jump in surprise. The unexpected interruption jolted her back to the present, and she blinked, momentarily disoriented.

"Elora, today is not the day to be lazy," her mother's voice called out from the other side of the door, firm. "You have five minutes to be down for breakfast. In one hour, we all need to be at the packhouse. So, move!"

Groaning softly, Elora muttered a begrudging acknowledgment. "Yes, mother," she replied, her voice carrying a note of resignation as she hurriedly scrambled to gather her bearings.

With practiced efficiency born from years of hurried mornings, Elora hastily pulled on a pair of snug skinny jeans and slipped into her trusty trainers, the familiar routine grounding her amidst the whirlwind of excitement and nerves. A simple white t-shirt completed her ensemble, the crisp fabric a stark contrast to the tumultuous thoughts swirling in her mind.

Rushing to the mirror, Elora deftly gathered her blonde curls into a high ponytail, her fingers defying the tangled chaos with practiced ease. As she gazed into her reflection, a pair of striking forest green eyes stared back at her, their depths shimmering with a mixture of anticipation and uncertainty. For a fleeting moment, she wondered if her mate would find them captivating, if he would see the beauty hidden within their depths and behind her average looks.

Shaking off the lingering doubts, Elora snatched her phone from the dresser and darted out of her room, the urgency of her mother's reminder propelling her forward. Descending the stairs two at a time, she found her parents already seated at the breakfast table, their expressions a mix of amusement.

"Good morning, dear," her father greeted her with a warm smile, "Excited for today?"

Elora nodded eagerly, a surge of anticipation coursing through her veins. "Absolutely, Dad," she replied, her voice tinged with a hint of nervous energy.

Seating herself at the table, Elora grabbed a slice of toast spread thick with apricot jam and butter, her favorite indulgence. As she took a bite, the sweet tang of fruit mingling with the crisp crunch of toast, she couldn't help but savor the moment.

Fifteen minutes ticked by in a whirlwind of anticipation, the seconds slipping through Elora's grasp like grains of sand. As she savored the last remnants of her breakfast, her mother's impatience became palpable, a silent undercurrent of tension threading through the air.

Glancing at her watch with growing frustration, her mother's patience finally wore thin. "Alena Black, you have five minutes before we’re leaving," she shouted, her voice tinged with urgency. "So, for the Goddess's sake, move!"

Moments later, the rhythmic click-clack of high heels echoed on the stairs, signaling Alena's approach. Elora's heart skipped a beat as she caught sight of her twin sister descending the staircase in all her radiant glory. Alena was a vision of elegance and poise, her slender form clad in a pristine short white dress cinched at the waist with a vibrant red belt. Red high-heeled sandals adorned her feet, adding a touch of sophistication to her ensemble.

Elora couldn't help but stare, her eyes widening in awe at her sister's breathtaking beauty. Alena's long, flowing black hair cascaded down her back like a silken waterfall, framing her flawless features with an air of effortless grace. Her makeup was impeccable, accentuating her natural allure, while her deep blue eyes sparkled with an inner fire that captivated all who beheld them.

A passing flicker of sadness tugged at Elora's heart as she took in her sister's appearance, a pang of self-doubt gnawing at her confidence. Despite being twins, they did not look at all like each other, Alena inheriting the best features from both her parents: the black hair and the tall figure from their father and her blue eyes from her mother. Elora unfortunately, did not look at all like her mother or father, as she inherited her features and petite frame from her maternal grandmother. But before she could dwell on her insecurities, her mother's approving gaze swept over Alena, a proud smile gracing her lips.

"Absolutely stunning, darling," her mother murmured, her voice tinged with pride as she admired her daughter's appearance. "Have some breakfast before we leave."

Alena flashed a knowing smile in Elora's direction, her words laced with subtle teasing. "I’m good mom, I need to watch out what I eat, I can’t pig out like others on toast and jam if I want to maintain my figure," she remarked with a suggestive glance, her gaze lingering in disgust on the last few morsels of toast disappearing into Elora's mouth.

Elora flushed crimson under her sister's scrutiny, a mixture of embarrassment and irritation bubbling beneath the surface.

"You should teach your sister a thing or two about dressing, Alena," her mother added, her tone tinged with disapproval as she cast a meaningful glance in Elora's direction. "At least for special occasions."

With a sheepish nod, Elora swallowed the last bite of her toast, her cheeks burning with a mixture of indignation and frustration. Today was meant to be a day of celebration, of anticipation and excitement, but the shadow of her sister's perfection loomed large, casting a pall over her spirits.

"Hurry, everyone! We need to leave now," their father urged, his words punctuated by the gravity of the situation. "I just got the mind link that the convoy from the Stormheart Pack just entered our borders. They'll be here in the next twenty minutes."

Seated in the back of their father's SUV, Elora noticed as their father's expression grew solemn, his features etched with a sense of importance. With a deep breath, he addressed his daughters, his voice commanding attention.

"Today is a day of the utmost importance," he began, his tone grave yet resolute. "As members of the Black Forest Pack, your behavior must be impeccable. The Stormheart Pack is the largest and most powerful in the US, and our alliance with them is crucial. You all know about them, so please be cautious."

The tension in the air was palpable as Elora listened to her father's words, her heart hammering in her chest with a mixture of excitement and trepidation, recalling the stories. The Stormheart Pack, under the iron-fisted rule of Alpha Storm, commanded respect and fear in equal measure. Their wealth and influence were unparalleled, and no one dared to oppose them.

But it was the reputation of Alpha Aziel Storm that sent shivers down the spines of even the bravest souls. Three years ago, he had assumed leadership of the pack, inheriting the mantle of power from his father with a ruthless determination unmatched by any before him. Under his reign, the Stormheart Pack had expanded its territory even more, as it swallowed smaller packs and consolidated its dominance with an iron grip.

But it was Aziel's title of "Deathstrike" that struck fear into the hearts of all who crossed his path or heard his name. He showed no mercy to those who dared to defy his rule, dispatching rogues with a swift and merciless hand, without exception; no one knew why he hated the rogues so much, but he just did.

As they made their way towards the packhouse, the atmosphere was thick with anticipation and tension.