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.

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.

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.

1 Nothing's Perfect

Olivia POV

One more year of high school and I can finally start working toward my degree in marketing. I know it's strange for a seventeen-year-old to want to have such a specific career, but I want to follow in my dad's footsteps. He owns his own advertising business that I plan on joining after I graduate. I am definitely a daddy's girl. Not that I don't love my mom, but my dad and I have a special bond.

I have an older brother who is a bit of a jock, but he isn't conceited. As older brothers go, he is a pretty good one. Don't get me wrong, we have our fights, but for the most part we get along well. He is two years older than me and in his second year of college. He was actually supposed to pick me up today but flaked, which isn't like him. I make my way down our street and notice a car I've never seen in the driveway.

As I make my way up onto the porch, I can hear raised voices. I can tell one is my mom's but the other isn't familiar. A few seconds go by and the yelling stops. I push the door open and stop dead in my tracks at the sight in front of me. My mother is in the arms of a man I've never seen before. Not only is she in his arms, but he's kissing her. I don't even realize I gasp until both their heads turn toward me.

"Olivia," my mother says, and I take a step back. "How could you," I say before I turn running back out the door I just walked through. I don't get far when I run into the solid chest of my brother. "Oli, what's wrong" he says, wrapping his arms tightly around him. "Mom," is all I manage to get out. He rubs circles on my back, but his next words have me stepping out of his embrace. "Mom will explain everything, Oli," he says.

Chapter 1 A Double Betrayal

I had a fairy tale wedding with my college sweetheart. 

Landon and I dated for four years. 

No, it was more appropriate to say he chased me for four years. 

He pursued me for the entire freshman year. 

I said yes on the first day of sophomore year. 

We got engaged by the end of the third year. 

Our wedding day was the day after graduation. 

Friends said we were a match made in heaven. 

I agreed.  

I was trapped in the fire when my alpha mate finally came. 

But he didn’t come for me. 

He ran past me–and lifted another woman into his arms. 

His first love. Imema. 

“Imema, are you hurt?” 

His voice shook with a fear he had never once shown me. I was lying three feet away, and he never looked down. 

“Aires…” My voice scraped out, thin and raw. The fire was too loud. I didn’t know if he heard me at all. 

r 

His men poured in. A boot came down on my hair, and the man didn’t even slow**.** 

My wolf howled inside me. 

*Mate. Why isn’t our mate coming for us?* 

“Alpha**,** the emergency room is ready,” a beta said. 1/7 

13:16 

< Chapter 1 

“Get the best doctors in place,” he said, hoarse but iron. “Nothing can happen to her. Do you hear me?” 

The words went into my chest like a blade and kept carving downward. 

He never even noticed that his own mate was trapped in the same fire. 

He turned toward the exit, carrying another she–wolf in his arms. Not me. Not his rightful Luna. 

My wolf went still. I felt nothing but cold, even as the fire crept 

up my arm. 

He flickered in the light beyond the door–then was gone. 

A beam cracked overhead and came down**,** snapping my ribs, pinning my legs beneath its weight. The pain whited out my 

vision. 

An ember dropped onto my cheek. My body began to feel weightless, as if something were lifting up and out of its shell. 

I felt like I was dying. 

When I woke, I was alone. 

White light. The flat smell of antiseptic. No flowers. N cards3:16 

Chapter 1 

No one in the chair beside the bed. Just that hollow ache under my ribs that no breathing could fill. 

I was seriously injured. 

And neither my husband nor my son even knew. 

A fire had nearly killed me–a fire I’d have walked out of without a scratch if my Alpha husband had spared me one glance. He’d chosen his first love instead. A she–wolf without a mark on her. 

I couldn’t stay in that silent room. I held the wall and walked, step by step, into the corridor. 

That was when I saw them. 

Through a half–open door, Aires sat at the edge of a bed, cutting strawberries. He trimmed each stem, arranged each piece on the plate like it was the most important task in the world. 

r 

Imema lay against the pillows, cheeks flushed, and opened her mouth for the berry he offered. My son sat on the other side, giggling, a spoon in his hand. 

“Open wide–this one’s the yummiest!” 

“Good job**,** sweetheart,” she said, ruffling his hair. “You’ll make such a good husband one day.” 

3/7 

13:16 

Chapter 1 

“I’m going to marry you!” Aeson announced. 

They all laughed. The sound came at me like needles. 

What a happy little family of three. 

And what about me? 

I’m clearly Aires‘ Luna. His wife. Imema’s mother. 

2 

But right now**,** I feel like a mistress–someone who can’t be seen in the light of day. 

I turned and walked back, tears spilling over before I could stop them. I couldn’t bear to watch anymore. 

Suddenly, my phone buzzed. 

The piano studio downtown. 

r 

“Mrs. Talia? A customer has taken a liking to the piano your mother left behind. Can we sell it?” 

“Of course not,” I said. “Don’t let anyone touch it.” 

“The customer said they’d arrive at four o’clock. Could you come 

over?” 

Horned to go–too fast. 

13:16 

< Chapter 1 

A medication cart came around the corner. A tray of glass shattered beside my hand; shards bit into my palm. 

The corridor went still. Everyone stared. 

Through the open door, Aeson’s head snapped toward the sound. “Mom**?”** 

For a heartbeat his face was just confusion. Then it shifted into embarrassment as if I’d shamed him simply by being seen. 

He looked away. 

Aires rose, set down the plate, and crossed into the corridor. His shadow fell over me where I knelt in the glass. 

He didn’t offer his hand. He just looked down at me, cold as 

ever. 

“Are you following me?” 

I almost laughed. Following him. As if I hadn’t been three doors down**,** bleeding**,** while he sliced strawberries into neat little pieces for someone else. 

“No,” I said. 

“Then what are you doing on this floor?” His jaw tightened. 

5/7 

13:16 

Chapter 1 

Behind him, Imema had pushed herself up against the pillows, watching us. His eyes flicked back to her—just once. That was where his worry lived. “If you came to make a scene in front of her-” 

“I didn’t come for anything of yours,” I cut in. 

I pressed my bleeding palm to my chest and pushed myself to my feet. The glass shifted under me. I didn’t let my face change. 

“Then why are you here, Talia?” 

There were a hundred answers. Because the fire nearly took my life. Because I screamed your name until it burned away in my throat. Because I’m your wife, and you carried another woman past my body like I was a fallen beam. 

In the end, I let just one of them out. 

“I almost died,” I said. “Do you even care?” 

He said nothing. 

His face stayed calm**.** Unmoved. 

I had my answer. 

“…Never mind.” I pressed my bleeding palm to my chest. “I’m Ang. I only came to visit someone.” 

13:16 

Chapter 1 

Then I turned my back on him and walked toward the elevator. 

I don’t want to explain anymore. No one will believe me, and no 

one will care. 

I have more important things to do. 

Chapter 1 She's from the Asylum

[Welcome to Round 44 of Global Hide-and-Seek. Today's instance: Rose Manor.]

[Participants for this round are in position. Players, take note — once the game begins, you'll have thirty minutes to hide.]

[After thirty minutes, the Wraiths will enter the field and begin the hunt. Hunting window: three hours.]

[If caught, you die.]

[Your home nation will lose one region to a Wraith invasion.]

[Survivors will receive rewards.]

[Countdown begins now.]

Lyra Vance froze. She glanced down at herself — still in the same hospital gown, white with blue stripes, slippers on her feet.

Then she looked up at the crowd around her — every skin tone imaginable, jabbering in languages she couldn't understand, faces twisted with panic and despair.

When the strange voice finished, a door appeared out of nowhere on the open ground, and everyone surged through it.

What was going on? Lyra felt completely lost.

*****

Draconia. Strategic Game Command Center.

On the enormous screen, livestream feeds of every participant popped up at once. In the column marked 'Draconia,' a girl in a hospital gown stood at the instance entrance, glancing around, her hair a mess, a dazed look on her face.

The chat exploded.

WhenWillTheyDie: [We're done we're done we're done.]

DontHitMe: [Who did we draw this time?! Lyra — a little girl?]

DetailFreak: [Is she wearing... a hospital gown?]

NeverAteVeggies: [Draconia's down to twelve regions. Lose another and where the hell do we squeeze in?]

NutrientGooSucks: [Can we please get a swap? Game gods, I'm begging you.]

PickMeGame: [Forty-three rounds in, we've already lost twenty-two regions. Looks like number twenty-three drops today.]

momo: [I am so sick of you people. Whoever gets drawn is fighting for the country. You can't cheer for her, fine — don't go breaking her down. And girls have pulled it off before.]

AureliaIsGuilty: [Exactly. If these players hadn't won us living space, we'd still be holed up underground. No gratitude, get out.]

AnotherDayAlive: [Still, she's in a hospital gown. The debuffs are maxed out.]

LuckyKoi: [Heavens above, please send every drop of my luck to this player.]

ApplyingToEmigrate: [Hilarious. Aurelia drew a special-forces operative, already scouting the terrain. Ours is still spacing out. Thank God my emigration application went through. I'm out of here.]

GoDraconia: [Traitor. Get lost.]

Inside the command center, no one spoke. Everyone snapped into work mode. Chief of Staff Lana Sterling kept her eyes locked on the screen, the rattle of keyboards the only sound in her ears.

The keyboards stopped. "Reporting. Participant's name is Lyra Vance, female, twenty-two, from Everbright. Records show—" The officer broke off.

"What is it?" Lana frowned.

"Records show Lyra Vance was admitted to a psychiatric facility at age seven. She's never been discharged," a staffer reported.

Lana's frown deepened. "Seven? You're telling me she's been institutionalized for fifteen years? Never once left?"

"Correct, ma'am. After the nuclear war, her entire family died. No guardian ever came to sign her out," the staffer replied.

Lana ordered, "Pull every medical file she has."

An aide replied, "Yes, ma'am."

Lana watched the chat skew uglier and turned to another aide. "Steer the public mood upward. And monitor the networks, anyone running her down, ban the account."

An aide replied, "Yes, ma'am."

*****

Back on the livestream, the chat was getting nasty.

RunForIt: [Folks, time to write your wills.]

BornToCuss: [Write your own damn will, dickhead!]

ApplyingToEmigrate: [Draconia's luck is finished. If you've got the means, find a way out.]

BornToCuss: [Finished your ass. Find your mother.]

ApplyingToEmigrate: [Aurelia's accepting refugees. Catch: vassal status.]

GoDraconia: [Shut your mouth up there. Traitor.]

BornToCuss: [Accept your ass.]

ApplyingToEmigrate: [I'm not wrong though. Look at Aurelia — they drew a special-forces operative. Look at us? A mental patient? (Message failed to send.)]

LuckyKoi: [She moved. She moved.]

On the screen, Lyra finally took a step. She wasn't running, she walked slowly toward the door, trailing her hand along the wall as she went.

She drifted into Rose Manor that way. Once inside, she found shards of broken mirror scattered across the ground. She picked up a piece. The girl in the reflection had a thin face that made her eyes look enormous, with dark shadows beneath them.

That washed-out, blue-tinged pallor that came from years without sunlight.

She replayed that mechanical announcement in her head, twice over.

Hide-and-seek. Wraiths. Three hours. Death.

She drew in a deep breath. The air carried the scent of roses. Roses, trees, fountains, statues, the manor itself.

This was real.

Not the white walls, white lights, white ceilings of the ward. Not the scheduled pills or the orderlies' blank-faced check-ins. Not the restraints that had pinned her to the bed. No bite of disinfectant in the air.

The corner of Lyra's mouth twitched up. Then twitched again. Then she couldn't hold it back, she dropped into a crouch, wrapped her arms around her knees, curled herself into a ball, and her shoulders began to shake.

The chat assumed she was crying.

momo: [Yeah... honestly, who wouldn't be terrified?]

GoDraconia: [Don't cry, sweetheart. Find somewhere to hide. You might just make it through.]

NutrientGooSucks: [Poor girl. Only twenty-two.]

BornToCuss: [Anyone fighting for this country deserves respect! One more person talks shit and I'll show you what generations of trash-talk can really do.]

The next second, the girl curled on the ground tilted her head up. She was laughing.

Tears streamed down her cheeks from laughing so hard. She tipped backward and lay flat on the broken glass, the back of her hospital gown smudging with dust and grit. She didn't care. Her wild laughter rang out, loud enough to fill the empty manor.

The sound echoed across the open grounds, and other players' hearts jumped, they thought the Wraiths had arrived early.

The chat went dead silent.

Lyra lay on the ground, arms spread wide, staring up at blue sky and white clouds.

"I'm out," she murmured.

Then she shot upright, the laughter not quite wiped from her face, her eyes still red. "Ha. Wraiths or no Wraiths — who cares. I'm finally out."

Lyra pushed herself up, dusted off her backside, and shuffled deeper into the manor in her slippers.

Twenty-three minutes left on the countdown.

A few steps in, she stopped abruptly, tilted her head as if watching something — except there was nothing there. Only a wall.

She stared at the wall, thoughtful. "So you're already here."

Inside the command center, Lana stared at the screen, studying the young woman's reaction.

The countdown kept ticking.

[22:19]

The Wraiths weren't supposed to enter for another twenty-two minutes. So who exactly was she talking to?

Chapter 2 How Did She Know?

Lyra didn't look at the wall again. She turned and strolled deeper into Rose Manor, humming a tuneless little song.

Her fingers brushed the red roses along the path. She plucked one and tucked it behind her ear — easy, natural, like a girl wandering her own garden instead of a deadly Wraith zone.

The chat exploded all over again.

WhenWillTheyDie: [What is she even doing? Has she completely lost it?]

NeverAteVeggies: [Am I seeing this right? She's picking flowers to accessorize herself?]

AnotherDayAlive: [Yeah, she's full-on psychotic. I don't think she even understands what this game is.]

GoDraconia: [Everyone, start prepping now. Pack up essentials. If she really gets caught, head straight for the evacuation points the moment the game ends and the invasion zone is announced. Remember: we only get fifteen minutes.]

momo: [Got it. Twenty-two evacuations in, we know the drill.]

LuckyKoi: [I've got a strong feeling she's going to pass this game.]

Inside the command center, the main screen flickered. Lana's eyes were locked on the feed.

"Ma'am, pulling the player's records is harder than we thought." The technician's fingers flew across the keyboard, a thin sweat beading on his forehead. "Everything before age seven is blank. Her medical files after that were lost when the nuclear war damaged the databases."

"What about the last month or so?" Lana asked.

"That part's intact." The tech pulled up a page, his tone turning odd. "Her doctors noted that Lyra liked to mutter to herself in the corner of her room, and would sometimes crouch in the courtyard talking to the grass. They classified it as textbook psychiatric symptoms."

Lana's brows drew tight. Her knuckles tapped against the desk in a steady rhythm.

"Did she ever try to escape?" Lana asked.

The tech blinked, then flipped through the file. "Three times. But she only ever made it as far as the front gate before the orderlies brought her back."

"Why didn't she keep going?" Lana asked.

The tech answered, "Because she just stopped at the gate. Sat on the curb watching the sunset until the orderlies came for her. Never put up a fight. No one knows why."

Lana mulled it over for a beat, then waved at the assistant behind her. "Send a team to that psychiatric hospital right now. Seal every paper file and every byte of data they have. Interview the doctors. And if — I mean if — she lives through this round, bring her straight to the command center."

An assistant replied, "Yes, ma'am."

On the other side of the room, the think tank was already deep in argument.

"The data says she has zero survival skills. Her behavior says she lacks even basic caution."

"Based on her profile, I don't think she actually understands the game. I recommend opening the comm channel right now and briefing her before the Wraiths spawn."

"Absolutely not. Briefing her now eats up her hiding window, and we only get one comm window per round. We have to save it for the critical moment."

"And this isn't critical? If she doesn't even know she's in danger — if she mistakes a Wraith for a regular person and walks up to say hello — will your warning come in time then?"

"Every past round shows that warning our player when the Wraiths are closing in, and telling them to move, gives the best survival odds."

"This case is different!"

"Maybe we've all been underestimating her." A white-haired elderly woman cut in. "She's been locked in that psychiatric hospital for fifteen years. Rules, restraints, isolation, torture to most people. But to a patient like her, it may be the most familiar survival environment there is."

"You're saying she might find this place more comfortable than the real world?"

"Watch."

On the monitor, Lyra had already wandered into a European-style villa. Across the split-screen feeds, the other contestants' situations were on full display.

A contestant from a Southeast nation was crammed inside a kitchen cabinet, both hands clamped over his mouth, body shaking violently with terror.

A Western contestant was wedged under a sofa, eyes bloodshot, knuckles white around a steak knife. The slightest sound and he'd come out swinging.

Fear was the common thread.

Only Lyra was up on the third floor, ransacking a bedroom.

She kicked off the clunky old slippers and pulled a pair of black leather shoes from the closet. She slipped them on and tapped a foot against the floorboards. Too loud.

She frowned, peeled them off, and barefoot, dug out a pair of soft house shoes instead. She nodded to herself, satisfied, and headed for the balcony.

Lyra didn't hide in a closet, under a bed, or inside a car like the others. She walked to the edge of the balcony and picked out a chest-high planter. From the front, the blooming roses blocked her completely — and from this angle, she could see the entire main courtyard.

Viewers in the stream were stunned speechless.

momo: [Is that the third-floor balcony? In the open like that??]

WhenWillTheyDie: [She's basically begging to die. The Wraiths always sweep the main building first. She should be in a side wing or the basement.]

NeverAteVeggies: [What is going through this woman's head? Hide already. Under the bed. Or back in the closet where she found the shoes.]

BornToCuss: [Shut up. From the front, the roses cover her completely. The angle is solid. As long as the Wraiths don't come out onto the balcony, she stays invisible.]

AnotherDayAlive: [Wraiths skipping the main-building balcony — yeah, sure, I'll believe that one.]

BornToCuss: [Don't forget. We still have one comm window left. When the Wraiths reach the main building, we tell her to switch positions. Still a real chance.]

EmigrationComplete: [Ha, suckers, you actually banned my old account? I'm an Aurelian citizen now, you can't touch me.]

EmigrationComplete: [Move over to our Aurelia stream, people. John's a genius. He popped a car hood and crawled inside the engine bay. The Wraiths always focus on trunks and cabins, so he's locked in this round.]

BornToCuss: [Get lost, you traitor. Hope your father rots.]

Lyra had no idea about the war raging online. She stood behind the roses, staring through a gap in the petals, eyes fixed on that wall. Behind it was a chamber holding ten 'people' in dark red uniforms.

Their skin was an eerie ash-blue. No ears. No pupils. They gripped rust-eaten long-handled scythes, and every so often they slammed the weapons against the wall.

Lyra lowered her lashes, fingers unconsciously digging into the railing, leaving thin pale scratches in the paint.

"Ten of them. Identical attack range, identical damage. Five-second cooldown between strikes. They walk about as fast as a normal person. They can jump — about half again as high as a human."

"These so-called Wraiths feel kind of weak, actually. Not as formidable as Red back at the hospital. Hmm. Not sure yet. Let me keep watching."

"They're about five hundred meters out, straight line." Her voice was barely a whisper, but the game still caught it. "At their pace, a direct charge takes three minutes."

"A proper sweep would take at least an hour."

"Plenty of time for me to study them."

That nameless little smile tugged at her lips again. She plucked another rose and started slowly tearing off the petals.

In the command center, Lana listened to Lyra's quiet running commentary and turned to the think tank in disbelief.

"How does she know any of this?" Lana asked. "Could she have watched the live feeds back at the hospital? Could she have known about this already?"

No one had an answer. They could only wait for word from the team at the hospital.

"Ms. Reed, you may have been right. We've all been underestimating her," one of the think tank members said to the elder.

Lyra leaned against the railing behind the planter, no longer watching the wall. Instead, she scanned the main courtyard with idle curiosity.

The contestants from other countries were still scrambling like maniacs for blind spots.

"So slow," Lyra muttered.

Suddenly, the mechanical voice cracked across the sky above Rose Manor again, sharp enough to make ears ache.

[Countdown: 00:01]

[Thirty minutes have elapsed.]

[The Hunters are now entering the field.]

[Players — we wish you... a pleasant death.]

Chapter 3 The Hunters Enter

The instant the voice cut out, every contestant slowed their breathing. Outside the game, viewers all over the world held theirs.

The wall Lyra had been studying so closely shattered. Ten Wraiths stood revealed. They lifted their heads in perfect unison, exposing their pupil-less eyes, and surged forward.

Lyra stood on the third-floor balcony, watching through the gaps in the rose vines. She counted under her breath. "One. Two. Three."

The lead Wraith raised an arm, the long scythe pointing east.

To the east lay a rose garden and a flower hall, and two of the Wraiths peeled off in that direction.

The lead Wraith pointed west next — a mirror layout with another garden and hall — and two more split off that way.

Two more headed for the back fountain and wine cellar, two for the cluster of statues at the center of the courtyard. The last pair walked straight toward the main building Lyra was in.

"No carpet sweep. First round targets the main structures, ground floor first."

She glanced again at the two Wraiths in the courtyard. "They're going for any space that could hide a person. The second the weapon cooldown ends, they swing — blind or not."

"Aaah!" A contestant tucked inside the hollow belly of one of the statues let out a single scream and died on the spot.

"A blind hit still kills. So the weapon is the real key."

Lyra frowned at the scene. Apart from the creepy look and the scythes, these Wraiths weren't actually all that... wraithlike. So why call them Wraiths? Can't tell yet. Keep watching.

"See anything?" At the Draconia Strategic Game Command Center, Lana straightened and turned to the think tank.

"She's too calm. Too sharp. And almost..." one of them ventured uncertainly, "almost disappointed?"

Silence rolled through the room. From the moment she'd entered, to choosing her spot, to studying the Wraiths — the girl hadn't shown a flicker of fear.

Lana ordered, "Pull up screen three. Keep eyes on Lyra and on the two Wraiths inside the main building. The instant they head upstairs, contact her."

The main feed switched instantly.

Lana stared at Lyra's dedicated panel. The girl on screen still stood behind the planter.

On the livestream, the chat scrolled at peak speed.

EmigrationComplete: [See that? John already slowed his breathing to four per minute! THAT'S professional!]

BornToCuss: [Professional my ass. Quit shilling for them, traitor — go back to your own feed.]

LuckyKoi: [Lyra picked a great spot. Given the map and Wraith distribution, barring a random twitch from one of them, she's safe there for at least 30 minutes.]

NeverAteVeggies: [I don't see an ounce of tension in this girl. She's actually analyzing them like it's nothing. Maybe she really will surprise us.]

AnotherDayAlive: [Look at feed 18 — that Southeast Asian player just got spotted.]

On screen, a thin man tumbled out of the bushes in the east garden.

He let out a scream — alive, somehow — spun around, and bolted in the opposite direction.

The two Wraiths behind him lit up with excitement. One swung its long scythe.

The blade tore through the air with a short shriek. The hook caught his legs and slammed him face-first into the mud.

He clawed at the dirt, dragging himself forward, leaving ten deep furrows behind him.

The red-uniformed Wraith stepped up. The scythe rose. Fell.

The man's scream cut out.

The chat went briefly blank, then erupted in a tidal wave.

WhenWillTheyDie: [Dead... that's it? Just dead?]

DontHitMe: [Standard. So far, almost no one survives once they've been spotted.]

SawatdeeKa: [Aaaaaaah. Another loss. Our country was already down to its last five districts. Who knows which one will be invaded this time?]

Anu: [Sob sob sob Start packing, get to the evac points.]

Mehdar: [I don't want to run anymore. After this we'll only have four districts left. How much longer can we hold?]

AsIf: [Don't give up. Right now Ursaria has the most districts left, then Aurelia. I heard our country is already in talks with both about full-population emigration. As long as we're alive, there's hope.]

NorthernExile: [Right. My country's already gone. But the moment we lost our last district, the whole population emigrated out.]

GoDraconia: [Draconian viewers, stop watching over there. Look at Lyra. She's about to do something.]

Lyra had seen the whole thing, and her face lit up like she'd just discovered a new continent. She stepped forward and leaned against the railing.

Ha. So getting spotted by a Wraith doesn't kill you. Only being killed by one counts as elimination.

She stopped bothering to hide her body, leaning over the rail to look down. On either side, the Wraiths kept smashing things at random.

"So you don't use smell, or hearing, or any creepy power," Lyra murmured to herself. "Just luck and eyesight."

She fished a shard of broken mirror out of her pocket — the one she'd picked up on the way into the realm.

Tilting her wrist, she caught the sunlight and threw a bright spot down onto one of the Wraiths in the courtyard.

The dot landed square on the red uniform. The Wraith didn't react at all, just kept swinging its scythe blindly.

"Not sensitive to light either."

She tucked the mirror away, walked back through the third-floor bedroom, and headed down to a room on the second floor — left side.

It was a small dining room. In the middle sat a long wooden table covered with fruit, cake, and drinks.

Predictably, the chat exploded.

SoAnnoying: [What is she doing? What is she doing? Can she just hide quietly?]

AnotherDayAlive: [Why hasn't her country contacted her yet? Get on the line already.]

EmigrationSuccess: [Serves her right. You reap what you sow.]

BornToCuss: [Reap your ass.]

LuckyKoi: [Good news, she's not hunting the Wraiths. Bad news, she went down to the second floor. She's even closer to them now.]

Lyra dragged a chair out without a care, sat down, and started picking out her favorites.

Hehe, so good. Those rotten doctors and nurses hadn't given her real food in forever. She was going to eat plenty this time.

NeverAteVeggies: [AAAAHHH. How dare she? What if it's contaminated?]

NeverAteMeat: [What if... what if the food in these realms is actually fine to eat?]

NeverAteFruit: [So far no player has ever dared touch the food in a realm.]

LuckyKoi: [But she looks so happy eating it.]

Grrrr—

Grrrr—

Stomach growls broke out one after another. The players hiding in this room had been holding their breath, sure at first that a Wraith had come upstairs, but no crashing followed for a long stretch.

A contestant from the Southern Reach couldn't help herself. She peeked through a gap in the fireplace and saw a girl sitting at the long table, eating as if no one else existed — no fear, no panic at all.

She looked young. Long dark hair tumbled loosely over her shoulders, a few stray strands brushing her flawless cheek and making her face all the more delicate.

From the floor below came the sounds of destruction, of contestants dying horrible deaths — and up here, this girl was eating like she was at a Sunday brunch. This...

1: Dear Diary

ASIA'S POV

Dear Diary,

Today is my eighteenth Moonday. Tonight my wolf will finally be able to sense our mate.

Oh Moon Goddess, please let it be Anton. He is the most amazing guy I have ever met. His brown eyes are to die for, and those lips are like the reddest cherry on top of an ice cream sundae. This is all I want most in this world, for Anton to be my mate and kiss me under the full moon. That would make me the happiest she-wolf alive.

I closed my diary with a dramatic sigh just as I heard footsteps coming up the stairs. I was panicking, so I quickly stuffed the little pink book into my old backpack and tiptoed to the door. I peeked through the crack, exhaling when I realized it was only Beatrice, the head maid.

"That was close," I muttered, grabbing the feather duster and pretending I had been working the whole time. I started cleaning Anton's room, resisting the very real, very insane urge to open his drawer and sniff his underwear.

I had done that a few times before. Okay... I did it many times before. And I must admit, I didn't think I had nothing to be ashamed of.

Once, I nearly got caught by my supervisor, but luckily, she was too busy trying to get everything perfect to notice me clutching a pair of size-medium Fruit of the Looms like it was money. The memory made me grin so hard I was practically blushing. I was so lost in a haze of cotton and cologne that I didn't hear the door open.

"Asia!" Beatrice snapped.

I jolted upright, dropping the duster. Beatrice was scowling like she always did when she was upset with me. And just so you know I had never seen that woman smile. Like ever.

"Yes, ma'am?" I squeaked.

"Stop your damn daydreaming and finish your chores!" she barked. "What the hell are you smiling about, anyway?"

"Nothing, ma'am," I said, plastering on the fakest serious face I could manage.

"Right. Because being a damn servant ain't nothing to smile about. We might be omegas, but we keep the wheels turning around here. Stay on track and don't lose focus."

"I won't, ma'am. I promise to finish my chores on time today."

"Don't make me regret giving you this promotion."

"Of course, ma'am. I won't disappoint you."

I sure hoped not. Last month, two other girls and I were promoted to clean for the Beta family, which meant one glorious, beautiful thing... I now had access to Anton Sharptooth's bedroom.

I'd been in love with him since the moment I laid eyes on him. I was eight years old when his father, Beta Kendrick found me wandering in the woods. They said I was probably from a nearby pack that had been attacked by the Rogue Faction—a bunch of wild wolves who didn't live by pack rules. The Beta brought me to Alpha Clayton and told him there were no survivors, just me.

Since I smelled like an omega, the Alpha told the Beta to make arrangements for me to live in the orphanage so I could be trained to be a servant.

That night, I slept in the Beta's house. Anton, who was fifteen then came into the kitchen where I sat, starving and scared. He gave me an apple and told me I should eat it because I looked hungry. That one tiny act of kindness was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for me.

The next morning, I had a meeting with the Alpha. He questioned me about what I saw during the attack, but honestly? Everything before I came to the Grecian Wolf Pack was a total blur. I told him I remembered nothing, which wasn't a lie.

I was thrown in Miss Beatrice's protection after that, where I started at the bottom like everyone else, but now, at eighteen, I was almost at the top of the servant chain, cleaning for elite werewolf families.

And this was about as good as it got for girls like me.

I sighed, grateful for this opportunity to be cleaning Anton's bathroom. The boy was gorgeous, but not exactly tidy.

'It smells like death in here,' my wolf, Lyria, gagged.

'I know,' I giggled.

I grabbed a bucket of soap-water and bleach and got to work on the tub first, then the toilet. And let me just say—Anton needed to learn how to aim. It took me half an hour to get the piss stains out of that bowl. My eyes were watering, my arms ached, but I had to make this place spick and span. I was down on my hands and knees, drying the last of the tile floor when I heard a loud sound.

BAM.

The bedroom door flung open.

I froze, and my ears perked. I could hear female giggles followed by male grunts.

My heart dropped into my butt. I knew those grunts. They belonged to Anton.

"Heather, I should be at training right now," he whispered.

Of course, it had to be Heather. She was the Alpha's son Conan's girlfriend. Or... was. Conan was sent away for Alpha training a few days after I arrived. It was the way of the pack for the next in line to be sent away for training as soon as they turned eighteen, so that they could be prepared for taking over the pack someday. And Conan Godfrey was the next in line to take over the Grecian Wolf Pack.

Growing up, I always heard that Heather would be his Luna one day, but she wasn't waiting patiently for Conan's return.

She had been collecting his friends and other high-ranked wolves like Pokémon.

The bathroom door was slightly ajar, so I peeked through the crack and saw Anton lying on the edge of the bed with his feet hanging off the side. He was using his elbows to prop himself up. I bit my lip. He was looking sinfully good.

I felt heartbroken that he was with another girl, but I had always known that he would never go for someone like me. An orphan omega who looked like a string bean with red, frizzy hair and no boobs.

But a girl could still fantasize right? 

"I've been wanting to taste you since breakfast," Heather purred. I rolled my eyes so hard I almost saw my past lives.

I needed to get out of here and fast.

But then she started unbuckling his pants, licking her lips like she was about to devour a triple cheeseburger. She sank to her knees in front of him.

"You're such a dirty slut," Anton grunted.

"I know, but you love it," she giggled, pulling out his member.

Oh. My. Dear Moon Goddess. What a beautiful piece of equipment.

I gulped. My eyes went wide as Heather took him into her mouth like it was nothing. Nothing!

I started flexing my own jaw, wondering if I could even fit that down my throat if I were in her place.

My eyes traveled to Anton's face, and the way his sculpted jaws were flexing and how hard his red lips were trembling woke something sexual inside of me. There was this heat pooling between my legs and my tummy did a little flutter. That's when I noticed both of them pausing and sniffing the air.

Oh no. I bet they sensed my arousal.

Anton shoved Heather off like a sack of potatoes and stood up, zipping up his pants.

"I know you're in there. Come out and show yourself," he barked.

Oh. Shit.

"Oh F**K... you're bottoming me out again! Too deep... I'm gonna piss myself!"

On the night of my remarriage, I climaxed uncontrollably, drenching the sheets. Seventeen times.

I whimpered, trying to pull away.

He grabbed the back of my neck, thrusting harder.

Three deep. Two shallow.

The last one hit so deep I swore I could see my stomach bulge.

"Who's better? Me or Ethan Carter?"

His hot breath brushed my ear. Dangerous. Low.

I lay limp against his dark suit, unable to speak.

Ethan... my ex—husband. A billionaire mogul.

Six years into our marriage, he fell sick with a mysterious disease, slipping into a coma. The Carter family called in a spiritual master, who claimed it was ancestral wrath—and only a "healing ritual" could cure him.

I didn't believe it at first.

But the moment the ritual girl arrived, Ethan woke.

The Master said he had to sleep with her 99 times or fall back into the coma. Every night, Ethan slept with Chloe Davis. The only thing he ever said to me was,"Wait."

Wait... while he slept with another woman.

By day, I prayed on my knees. By night, I listened to them making love, tears streaming.

Until the day I returned with a blessing charm, earned after seven days and nights of kneeling. Just as I reached the door, I heard him laughing with his buddies.

"Ethan, you're a genius, man. Faking that illness, inventing a ritual, just to bring your mistress home."

"Only someone from a small—time family like Luna Bennett would fall for it. Everyone in New York knows Ethan fears nothing. He'd burn ancestor plaques! How could he believe in some Master or ritual?"

My blood ran cold. Ethan wasn't sick. It was all a lie.

The charm burned in my hand, searing through my palm.

His friend smirked."So, Ethan, Chloe's at ninety times now? Just nine more, then the ritual's over. What's next?"

Ethan lounged on the couch, black shirt unbuttoned, legs crossed. He sipped his drink, smirked, casual.

"When it's over? I'll just keep her as my side piece, obviously."

Cold gripped me, bone—deep.

His friends laughed louder.

"Told you, man. A few women on the side—nothing wrong. Luna? She's had her five—year stretch. Time served."

"Women like Chloe? Innocent look, wild in bed. That's what guys like us crave."

"Seriously, Ethan, is she better than Luna?"

The glass cracked on the table. Ethan's eyes snapped open—sharp, lethal.

"No one comes close to Luna. She'll always be my only love."

The room froze.

One friend finally asked the question I'd died to know:

"If you love her that much, why fake being sick? Luna's been through hell. Your family almost dragged her for 'justice'."

Ethan's voice cut through the silence:

"The Carters have a legacy. Every woman marrying in must be tested, prove loyalty. I made an exception for Luna back then. Now, the 'healing ritual'... is her real test. She hasn't complained, hasn't caused a scene, even while I've been with others. And she prays for me genuinely."

A low chuckle, dripping with smug tenderness:

"That proves she's worthy of being a Carter. The suffering? I'll spend my life making it up to her."

Daggers. Straight to my gut.

I laughed. Then the laughter broke into sobs, tears streaming.

The Carters had blamed me for Ethan's 'curse,' their ancestors punishing him—just because I existed. For three months, nothing but abuse and condemnation.

When Ethan first slipped into that coma, I cried until my right eye went nearly useless. Sleepless nights followed, chest aching, staring at the ceiling.

While he was with Chloe, I was on my knees, copying scriptures until my fingers bled.

All fake. Every last bit.

All those 'loyalty tests'... high—sounding bullshit. He just wanted to cheat without guilt.

I blinked away tears. How had everything gone so wrong? Ethan... he'd loved me once, I was sure of it.

Years ago, at the gated community where Mom worked, I'd saved Ethan from a chase. Too scared to go home, he stayed with me a month. He went crazy for me, pursuing relentlessly.

I refused, again and again.

But he never gave up. Slowly, patiently, he melted my frozen heart.

The moment that sealed it? The acid attack. A jealous classmate tried to burn me. Ethan shielded me, taking the scar and pain himself, drenched in sweat, but still smiling."As long as you're okay, Luna."

At our wedding, he knelt, holding my hand.

"Luna, I, Ethan, will only love you. I'll never let you be wronged."

Those words now mocked me. Bitter irony.

Tears dry, laughter from the living room still ringing.

One friend sighed,"Ethan, Luna's been Mrs. Carter five years. What if she finds out about Chloe?"

Ethan's gaze went cold."Then she'll never know. Shut your mouths."

"What if she wants a divorce?"

He smirked."She's crazy about me. She'll never leave. Even the whole city couldn't help her without my say. If she ran... I'd drag her back. Alive or dead, she's mine."

My breath hitched. My nails dug into my arm.

Ethan, you're dead wrong.

I wiped my tears, tossed the blessing charm into the trash, and walked out. Two things to do:

First, go to Mom. I told her everything. She sighed, heavy.

"I never wanted you to marry into that family. I thought he was good... who knew? I'm with you, honey. Let's get out."

Second, deregister our identities. New names. If he thought Luna was bound to the Carters forever, fine—I'd erase her.

It would take two weeks. Patience. But I had to go back to the estate first, stay close, keep him unsuspecting.

I returned.

And froze.

Chapter 1 Back Before The Apocalypse

With a shout, Nadia Hale opened her eyes and shot upright in bed.

Sweat rolled down her forehead, and her eyes were dazed and full of despair.

Her foggy mind went blank at the sight in front of her. She thought, 'Isn't this the apartment I lived in before the apocalypse?'

Her phone kept buzzing with incoming alerts.

She grabbed it from the nightstand and realized it was 9:32 a.m., September 14, 2029.

She had dozens of unread messages, all warnings about the super typhoon Cleaver expected to hit the coast in the early hours of the 17th, with winds of 100–120 mph and days of relentless rain.

Nadia went numb, thinking, 'I was dead... right? Dead in that hell of the apocalypse. Am I stuck in some nightmare just 'cause I didn't wanna die like that?'

Another alert popped up at 9:37 a.m.

She twisted her arm hard. Pain shot through her, reminding her this wasn't a dream.

She'd really been sent back just three days before the storm that kicked off the apocalypse.

More precisely, two and a half days left.

Nadia didn't feel happy. Only a bone-deep exhaustion crept in.

Typhoons, flash floods, scorching heat, freezing cold, earthquakes... every disaster was pure torture. She didn't think it was worth experiencing again.

But since she was already back, she couldn't bring herself to wait for her doomsday.

She splashed cold water on her face. In the mirror, she saw herself—young, pretty, skin glowing with fresh collagen, untouched by the harsh scraps of survival. Everything looked deceptively perfect.

Her tired gaze fell on the diamond necklace around her neck. She'd been abandoned in a hospital as a baby, and the necklace had been with her ever since, until Wesley Young grabbed it to give to the school's popular girl, Sylvia Moore.

Three years into the apocalypse, Sylvia had stayed flawless with pristine clothes and glowing skin, like she was still living in a peaceful world.

Nadia remembered one time she'd fainted from hunger, and she'd seen Sylvia pulling an ice cream bar from the necklace, licking it calmly.

Nadia seemed to make up her mind. She grabbed a blade, sliced her finger, and let a drop of blood fall onto the necklace.

The jade blazed with a dazzling light. When she opened her eyes again, she was inside an unfurnished apartment with no front door.

All utilities were hooked up, and there were two bedrooms, a living room, roughly 860 square feet, and ceilings around 10 feet high. A small 110-square-foot dirt garden clung to the balcony.

Floating above the living room was a holographic timer: 01:56:13.

'Is this the Storage Realm that kept Sylvia living so perfectly? Also the one she stole from me?' Nadia wondered.

After leaving the Storage Realm, Nadia noticed her mind now held a whole apartment inside. She could feel every corner just by focusing.

To figure out how the Storage Realm worked, she ran a little test with hot water. Everything inside stayed fresh, except the balcony and the garden.

When she stored something with her mind, the timer didn't move. But the second she stepped in, it started counting down automatically.

Time was tight. She didn't have the luxury to puzzle out all the rules.

'Since I get a second shot at life, and I've got this Storage Realm, I'm not letting myself flop again,' she thought.

In her previous life, Nadia had only lasted three years in the apocalypse. She had no clue what disasters were still coming, so she grabbed her phone and started googling natural disasters.

The results scrolled on and on, and she nearly passed out.

'Surviving is brutal,' she sighed inwardly.

Setting aside extra feelings, she grabbed paper and a pen and started making a supply list.

Nadia had grown up in an orphanage. On the surface, it looked peaceful, but behind the scenes, kids fought hard for scraps. That was how she learned to be self-serving and never get ripped off.

Always feeling insecure, she collected recyclables to sell for money in elementary school, worked part-time in middle school, and even tutored kids and cleaned bathrooms. She'd do anything for money.

She'd always done well in school. Even while studying pre-med in college, she kept five high school seniors on tutoring contracts, charging 60 dollars a session.

Nadia was obsessed with making money. She'd sell insurance, stream online, and try anything legal. Over more than a decade, she'd saved about 60,000 dollars, planning to put a down payment on a house after graduation.

Yet now, all that counted for nothing.

She had classes in the afternoon and tutoring at night, but none of that mattered anymore.

Nadia texted her students' parents, saying she was sick and wouldn't be able to tutor for a while. She asked them to find replacements and settle the fees.

Tutoring fees were usually paid every two weeks. Most parents weren't hurting for money, and two of them even sent an extra 200 dollars as a get-well-soon gift. She received 2,000 dollars in total.

She didn't forget to warn them that a massive typhoon was coming, so they should stock up on food and emergency meds.

Disasters kept piling up. Her medicine list alone filled three pages. Some items were not only expensive but also impossible to get at normal pharmacies.

She snapped pictures and sent them to her old buddy, Zachary Shaw, who worked in a pharmaceutical supplier. [Big-spender client needs this tonight. Can you get me a killer price?]

Zachary replied instantly: [No prob.]

Less than five minutes later, his call came through. "Nadia, this list is crazy. You sure you're not messing with me?"

"Money's in. The client only has one request. They want it delivered tonight," she said.

She had no time for chit-chat. She hung up and wired 15,000 dollars right away. She texted: [Settle the balance later.]

The list of supplies was massive. Nadia grabbed her keys and headed out. Her eyes caught the limited-edition new AJ sneakers sitting on the table. She felt like smashing her head against a wall.

She'd always been practical. But whenever she dealt with Wesley, it was like she'd been cursed.

To chase him, she'd moved out of the dorm, rented a pricey apartment near her school, and camped overnight at the store to snag those latest AJs for him.

Her own shoes never cost over 100 dollars, but she spent over 2,000 dollars on the limited edition pair for him without a second thought.

And what did she get? He accepted the gift, took her necklace away, didn't answer her confession, and took the school's queen bee to eat all her stored food on a typhoon day.

During three years of disasters, he never helped, and when demons attacked her, he just watched coldly.

'If I'd known, I wouldn't even have done those stupid things,' Nadia thought. 'I'd like to see without my stockpiles and the Storage Realm, how shiny and perfect he and Sylvia can really stay.'

The super typhoon raged for half a month, followed by three straight months of record rainfall. The whole city was flooded.

Nadia rented on the 18th floor. She didn't get wet, but life was still messy.

*****

She left her building and grabbed a full breakfast at a street café.

Then she hit the car rental and drove off in a box truck, heading straight to the AJ store. The staff was shocked at her return request. After all, this was the new limited edition. Selling them was never a problem.

She returned the shoes for over 2,000 dollars. That money could stock food for at least two years. Spending it on a man was totally a waste.

Next, she drove to a store for doors. She ordered the two thickest stainless steel doors, each with triple locks, guaranteed to stop even a sledgehammer. The total cost with installation was 2,000 dollars.

To save time, she measured everything before leaving.

The shop owner worried about accuracy, but as soon as Nadia gave the building and unit number, they agreed immediately. They'd done business with that complex before. They said they could install the door the day after tomorrow.

Across the street was a glass shop. Nadia picked the thickest shatterproof glass at $200 per square foot, also scheduled for installation the day after tomorrow.

Nadia thought, 'They can knock and smash however they want. This time, nobody is getting in with a knife to kill me.'

Chapter 2 Storing Up Supplies

After paying the deposit, Nadia headed straight to the city's biggest outdoor gear store.

The store was swamped with clearance items due to the competitive industry. Some stuff was going for a fraction of the price. It was a perfect time to grab a deal.

She filled her cart with everything that could save her life: two inflatable rafts, four rubber boats, first-aid kits for fire and earthquakes, tents, axes, climbing ropes, binoculars, radios, waterproof flashlights, and giant solar chargers.

She chose nothing cheap or flimsy, only the real deal with high quality.

The saleswoman noticed a serious buyer and tried to push jackets and sleeping bags. "All our gear is on sale today. Quality guaranteed."

Nadia raised her brows and asked, "Do you have stuff that can keep me warm below -80°F?"

The saleswoman replied in surprise, "In our city, you can wear a T-shirt in winter."

"I'm heading to the polar research station," Nadia said flatly.

Seeing she wasn't joking, the saleswoman quickly called a partner store and said, "We've got Arctic-grade parkas and mummy-style sleeping bags. Layer them together, and you'll stay alive. They're pricey and shipped from another state."

The partner ran an online store with good reviews and could overnight the order. The seller guaranteed they'd be delivered the next afternoon.

Nadia got two sets, spending over 2,000 dollars.

She spent another 4,000 dollars on additional outdoor gear, filling the truck. While nobody was looking, she stashed them all in the Storage Realm.

The rafts needed diesel, but private buyers couldn't get any.

Nadia went to a repair shop for a siphon and barrels, filled her truck at nearby gas stations, and carefully siphoned fuel into the barrels at a quiet spot. After a few trips, she had 130 gallons of gasoline.

The apocalypse was chaotic, full of blood and violence. She went to a security supplies store and told the owner, "I need some gear for the trip to Denirika."

The sho owner immediately pulled out the best gear he had. "The weather there is nice. You need something of the best quality."

Nadia grabbed three sets of stab-resistant outfits and two bulletproof vests. She then drove to the largest clothing wholesale market in the suburbs.

She stocked up on warm gear: down jackets, heavy coats, cashmere sweaters, thermals, scarves, gloves, socks, snow boots, light sneakers, insulated shoes, slippers, and anything that might be needed.

Brand didn't matter to her, only quality.

She spent 4,000 dollars at the market and then went next door to the general goods wholesale store.

She bought blankets, big down comforters—18 to 22 pounds each—three of each, all packed in compression bags.

She then grabbed shampoo, body wash, laundry detergent, sanitary products, paper towels, toothpaste, toothbrushes, thermoses, lighters, and rubber hot-water bottles.

She even bought 20,000 heat patches, a lifesaver in freezing weather.

Some online sellers offered rare finds: glass kerosene lamps and windproof lanterns, which were vintage-style gear from the 1960s.

She grabbed five of each and asked: [Do you have kerosene?]

Very few people would buy that, so the shop had only 25 gallons.

Nadia bought it all and asked for extra wicks. She knew these lamps would last way longer than candles.

She also bought alcohol stoves, solid fuel tablets, and portable propane camp stoves. Remembering that the Storage Realm had power, she grabbed several induction cooktops.

Bug spray, disinfectant, water purification tablets, mosquito repellent, and anything else she could think of went into the cart. By the time she was done, another 6,000 dollars was gone.

Next door was the fruit wholesale market. She bought apples, pears, watermelon, kiwi, bananas, cantaloupes, starfruit, grapes, and over twenty kinds in total. She spent another 2,000 dollars.

By the time she left the wholesale market, the sky had gone dark.

Her phone showed several missed calls, all from Zachary. He had also sent a message saying the order was ready.

Nadia drove to the building where his company was located. More than twenty large cardboard boxes were waiting downstairs, packed with antibiotics, anti-inflammatory meds, iodine, medical alcohol, gauze, and even tetanus shots.

They were all lifesaving supplies in a disaster. The order had cost over 13,000 dollars, but it eased some of the tight knot of anxiety in Nadia's chest.

Zachary transferred her a 600-dollar commission and said, "A lot of the meds on your list aren't in stock, so I have to pull favors from other suppliers."

"I'll deliver these first. Dinner is on me another day." Sitting behind the wheel, Nadia reminded him, "That super typhoon is about to hit. Stock up on fuel and food at home."

Zachary didn't take it seriously at all. They'd already had more than a dozen typhoons this year. Every time, the warnings sounded scary, but the storm barely did anything.

Nadia stored the medicine in the Storage Realm and then drove to the mall nearby. She ordered pizza and beer.

The restaurant was packed. Young students and couples were everywhere, their faces bright with life, completely unaware that disaster was coming.

The food would take a while. Nadia's gaze landed on the glowing red charcoal under the oven.

She suddenly remembered that she had forgotten the most important stuff.

She immediately asked the owner for contacts who sold charcoal, coal briquettes, and propane tanks.

She called them one by one, wanting everything delivered the next day.

To her disappointment, those shops were all in low-lying areas, and the authorities had ordered them to move their stock. They were too swamped to deliver anything for the next two days.

The three stores happened to be in the same area. Nadia didn't even wait for her food. She got in the truck and drove straight there.

Charcoal was cheap, but it took up space. Nadia checked the Storage Realm and only bought 500 pounds of smokeless, high-heat charcoal, with a charcoal stove and fire starters thrown in.

One propane tank could last about two months. In case the Storage Realm lost power, she bought ten tanks.

Coal briquettes burned for a long time, but with power shortages spreading across the country and trade sanctions with another country driving up coal prices, the cost had gone through the roof.

Each briquette cost about 1 dollar. Nadia bought 2,000 of them.

By the time she got back to her apartment, it was almost nine. She rested for a moment and entered the Storage Realm to organize the messy pile of supplies.

To save as much space as possible, she stacked the propane tanks, coal briquettes, and charcoal in the kitchen.

She stripped away every bit of unnecessary packaging, packed all bulky soft items into compression bags, and stacked everything layer by layer all the way up to the ceiling.

Money really burned fast. She had spent over 40,000 dollars in a single day, just enough to fill the small bedroom and the kitchen. The supplies took up around 1,700 cubic feet.

Just as she finished cleaning up, something suddenly kicked her. She went flying out of the Storage Realm and hit the floor.

Stunned, tried to go back in, but an invisible barrier blocked her.

She thought, 'What the hell? Did the Storage Realm swallow all my stuff?'

Chapter 3 Her Supplies Were Swallowed

Nadia panicked and quickly checked with her mind.

The Storage Realm was still there, and so were the supplies. She tried pulling something out with her mind, and a coal briquette appeared in her hand.

She scanned the space again and found that the holographic timer had hit zero.

Only then did Nadia understand. The Storage Realm only let a person stay inside for two hours.

She thought, 'Fine. Still better than nothing.'

By the time she finished showering, it was already past midnight.

She checked the Storage Realm again. A fresh two hours had been added, and she finally let out a small breath of relief.

Lying in bed, she couldn't fall asleep for a long time. In the end, she had to take melatonin to keep herself going.

Even then, she didn't have a sound sleep. She dreamed again of those people chasing her with knives, and rusty blades stained with old blood hacked down at her body.

Nadia jolted awake, drenched in cold sweat.

It was five in the morning, and the sky outside was still dark. She entered the Storage Realm and looked over her stockpile to steady her nerves. Only then did her breathing slowly calm.

She didn't try to sleep again. She grabbed her truck keys and drove to the city's largest wholesale produce market.

Dawn had just begun to break, but the market was already packed with trucks and vendors.

Nadia went straight to the vegetable section and bought the freshest produce, still beaded with dew.

She bought 100 pounds of pumpkin, carrots, beans, celery, tomatoes, and so on. For potatoes and sweet potatoes, she bought 200 pounds each.

She also bought 100 pounds each of garlic and chili. They could be planted, and they were good for seasoning. In freezing weather, a bowl of soup could be enough to pull someone back from the edge.

She bought as she walked forward. Except for greens, she didn't skimp on anything. In total, she spent around 1,300 dollars.

By the time she finished breakfast, it was nearly nine, and the crowd in the wholesale market had thinned out.

Nadia compared prices at several stalls before stocking up on staples. She got 100 bags of wheat, 50 bags of flour, and 200 pounds of beans, peanuts, and other dry goods. She also bought 50 jugs of olive oil.

She spent nearly 10,000 dollars. After some bargaining, the owner threw in three extra bags of flour.

Just this batch alone would be enough to feed her for a few years.

While the owner prepared the order, Nadia walked to the seasoning section nearby.

She bought ten large tubs each of mayonnaise, vinegar, and barbecue sauce. She then paid for 30 pounds of garlic powder, rosemary, cinnamon, and black pepper, 300 pounds of sugar, and 3,000 pounds of salt.

Food mattered in the apocalypse, but salt mattered even more. Without enough salt, the body simply couldn't hold up.

In the third year of the apocalypse, Nadia had personally seen someone trade one bag of salt for 30 pounds of grain.

3,000 pounds of salt barely took up any space. Once supplies became scarce, she could use them for trade. If space hadn't been a problem, she would've stocked up on several tons.

After the truck was loaded, she drove to a quiet corner with no cameras and stored everything in her Storage Realm. Then she headed for the frozen food section.

She bought ten large cases of frozen pizzas, waffles, mac and cheese, and similar easy meals.

Next, she went to the dry goods section and bought walnuts, almonds, dried cranberries, and more. Another 3,000 dollars was gone.

When she reached the meat section, Nadia noticed the stall that supplied the school cafeteria. The owner brightened the moment he saw her. "Nadia, what can I get you?"

Before the typhoon, the weather was hot and muggy, and the stall didn't have much meat left. At this hour, it wasn't exactly at peak freshness, but the prices were fair.

She ordered 200 pounds each of pork, ribs, beef, lamb, and rabbit, along with 100 chickens, 100 ducks, and 50 geese.

The owner stared at her, asking, "Girl, are you kidding me?"

His wife worked at a slaughterhouse, and Nadia had brought them plenty of customers for commission before. Nadia replied, "My relatives are throwing a big wedding. Can I get a good price?"

The owner smiled, "You're my VIP client. Come on, I won't make money off you on this one. 30% off everything."

Meat burned through money fast. Pork was cheap, while beef and lamb were still expensive. That was why buying through someone she knew was the smartest move.

The total came to about 10,000 dollars. Nadia didn't haggle, but she added one more request. She wanted two heavy bone cleavers and two butcher knives.

Self-defense weapons were a must, but she didn't have the time or the connections. She could only grab whatever she could get.

The owner looked startled. "What do you need those for?"

"Relax. I won't do anything illegal," Nadia smiled.

Thinking of the profit and their old connection, the owner agreed without making a fuss.

Next, she went to the fish stall and ordered 100 fish. She only asked them to gut and clean the fish, not cut them into pieces. She would come back for them once they were ready.

She then paid for 3,000 chicken eggs and 1,000 duck eggs. Thinking that the disasters might end one day, she also bought some fertilized chicken, duck, goose, and quail eggs, along with a small home egg incubator.

The garden inside the Storage Realm came to mind, so Nadia went to a seed shop and bought vegetable seeds, all fast-growing kinds like lettuce, spinach, and other greens.

Seeds were cheap. She spent 150 dollars, enough to keep herself fed for decades if she used them right.

The black soil garden was only about 100 square feet, but the two balconies could still be used. Nadia bought planters, a hoe, a shovel, and bags of potting soil.

With a faint hope for the future, she ran to the fruit sapling section. She bought three mature saplings of apple trees, grapevines, orange trees, and dozens of other varieties.

Meat would disappear over time. As the disasters dragged on, ordinary people wouldn't be able to eat fresh meat, and even powerful people wouldn't have the resources.

Nadia bought a breeding pair of rabbits. Rabbits could live on greens, reproduced fast, and could definitely cover her need for meat.

She liked snacks, so she bought boxes of her favorite snacks.

Money flowed out like water, and it hurt badly. But when she thought of the supplies piling up inside the Storage Realm, a deep sense of security and satisfaction rose in her chest.

Nadia spent the entire day at the wholesale market. By the time she walked out, the streets were bright with lights. People came and went in a lively rush, and the best part of the day had only just begun.

She went to a restaurant and treated herself to a big meal. Whatever she couldn't finish, she packed up and took it with her.

*****

It was still early when she got home. She organized the Storage Realm, filling the large bedroom until nothing else could fit. The greens and fruit saplings went in the living room, while the rabbits were placed on the balcony.

This time, she paid attention to the time. When only ten minutes were left on the timer, she left the Storage Realm.

The moment she came out, the two rabbits were kicked out too. They landed on the floor and nearly died from the fall.

At first, Nadia felt annoyed. Then joy rushed through her.

It seemed the Storage Realm didn't only have a time limit. Even though she wasn't inside, other living creatures couldn't stay inside either.

That meant no one else could take her treasure from her.

In a great mood, she sat down and went over her list again. She had bought almost everything she could think of, and there was about 6,000 dollars left in her account.

Only the living room and bathroom were still empty in the Storage Realm. If she wanted to survive extreme disasters, there was still a lot more to prepare. But she didn't plan to keep stocking up on bulky supplies.

She opened a food delivery app and picked restaurants with the best reviews. She ordered more than twenty dishes she'd always wanted to try but had never been willing to splurge on, ten portions of each.

Then she added fried chicken, coffee, ice cream, desserts, and dozens of other treats.

She spent over 3,000 dollars. To keep everything fresh and tasting right, she scheduled every order for pickup at specific times.

She was exhausted, but she still wanted to see the city's last stretch of brightness and noise.

That afternoon, the school sent out a notice. To prepare for the incoming super typhoon, classes would be suspended for three days. The exact return date would be announced later.

The students cheered. They called their friends and made plans to go out, turning the coming storm into an excuse for one last night of fun.

Coastal cities faced more than a dozen typhoons every year. Every time, students prayed for canceled classes, and this time, their wish had finally come true.

Nadia used to be the same. But none of them knew this storm was different. After this, they would never have to go to school again.

Eating pizza and drinking beer, Nadia carried a heavy, tangled feeling as she kept driving around to pick up her orders.

When she got home, she still felt like she had forgotten something important. But for the moment, she couldn't remember what it was.

Chapter 4 The Disaster Officially Began

As soon as midnight passed, the timer refreshed and showed 130 minutes remaining. That meant the time could stack.

Nadia was overjoyed. A minute or even a second could save her life at the critical moment.

She decided that unless there was a special reason, she wouldn't enter the Storage Realm again. She would save every minute for the extreme cold or the earthquakes.

With food in hand and the Storage Realm as her lifeline, Nadia finally felt a little more confident about the disaster coming her way.

She slept through the night without dreams. The next morning, a phone call woke her. The crew installing the door had arrived.

One of them asked, "Miss, you already have a stainless steel door. Why are you changing it?"

Nadia replied, "There have been break-ins around the complex lately. I want something solid."

The installer asked with a helpless smile, "The deadbolts are safe, sure, but we'll have to drill into the ceiling and the floor. Aren't you worried about damaging the apartment?"

"That's fine. Safety comes first," said Nadia.

Her landlord had taken a job out of town. In her previous life, even after the building collapsed in the earthquake, Nadia still hadn't heard a word from them. So remodeling the place wouldn't be an issue.

The crew for the shatterproof glass arrived right after, and both sides got busy. The sound of drills rang out from time to time.

Since it was the weekend and she was worried about bothering the neighbors, Nadia posted a quick message in the group chat and said sorry.

Then she opened the app and kept ordering food online. She wanted to spend the rest of her money.

In less than two hours, the door and glass were installed. Nadia paid the remaining balance she had set aside. Looking at the apartment now sealed up like a bunker, she finally felt a weight lift from her chest.

Just then, her phone rang. She thought it was from the food delivery guy, but it turned out to be Wesley.

"Nadia, it's my birthday party. When are you coming?" On the other end, Wesley's voice sounded warm and bright, mixed with the lively laughter of a crowd.

Nadia sneered, "Sure. Wait for me."

Wesley clearly liked Sylvia, yet he kept stringing Nadia along. All he wanted was her surprise gift and the necklace she had.

Even through the phone, Nadia could hear Sylvia's sweet voice in the background.

In Nadia's previous life, she had thrown herself at Wesley, and Wesley had barely paid her any attention. This time, he was the one calling.

Alarm bells went off in Nadia's head. She wondered, 'How did Sylvia know my necklace had the Storage Realm?

'Judging from Wesley's attitude, he probably doesn't know the secret. Sylvia must have pushed him into making the call.'

After hanging up, Nadia grabbed her keys and went downstairs.

Wesley lived on the eighth floor, and lively voices spilled out from his apartment.

Nadia walked straight past and continued downstairs without the slightest hesitation.

The air outside was still hot and heavy, but the first edge of the super typhoon had already arrived. Every now and then, a sharp howl of wind swept through the street.

A new alert said that the typhoon was now expected to arrive at 9 p.m. tonight.

Nadia was shocked, thinking, 'Why is it early?'

She went to the school library and picked out medical books so she could keep studying during the disaster, along with books on martial arts, survival skills, and mental resilience.

That huge library would be submerged during the flood. Countless valuable books would disappear forever.

Just thinking about it made Nadia's heart ache, but there was nothing she could do.

Avoiding the cameras, she placed the books she wanted together with a few others in one pile and then quietly slipped them into the Storage Realm.

She knew that stealing books was wrong, but soon, the library would be underwater, and countless books would be destroyed.

Books were part of human civilization. She couldn't take them all, but if the disasters ever ended, the ones she took could be donated back.

Wesley called again. Without a word, Nadia blocked him.

She left the school and went to a supermarket. She rode the elevator to the rooftop parking lot, walked around carefully, and came back down.

Faced with aisle after aisle of tempting products, she didn't buy anything. Instead, she wandered back and forth across the second floor a few times before driving somewhere else.

The rental company called. Because the typhoon had moved up, the office was closing early, and she had to return the truck before 3 p.m.

Nadia agreed on the phone. By the time she returned the truck, it was already 4 p.m. The typhoon winds kept screaming, rattling everything outside.

The owner was a decent guy. After checking the truck and finding no issues, he refunded her 600-dollar deposit.

The disasters didn't arrive all at once. They gave people a little warning and time to react. Too bad people failed to catch it.

Nadia kept some cash on her for emergencies and didn't keep spending recklessly.

*****

Back at the apartment, she grabbed her laptop, tablet, and phone, then started downloading everything she could think of: movies, music, life hacks, recipes, offline maps, disaster first aid guides, and survival manuals.

A shopping app suddenly popped up with a delivery update. Nadia then realized that she had forgotten the cold-weather gear she had ordered online.

It should've arrived yesterday evening, but the seller had shipped late, and the courier had been delayed. The package had only just reached the courier station.

She called right away. The courier station told her the typhoon had already arrived, so delivery was impossible for now. They could only deliver it after the storm passed. Or she had to pick it up herself before six.

Outside the window, the wind was already howling. The trees in the complex whipped back and forth like they were about to snap.

Once the typhoon and heavy rain hit, the courier station would be flooded. Without that gear, there was no way she could survive temperatures colder than 90 degrees below zero.

No one accepted her ride request. Nadia ran downstairs, unlocked a shared bike, and pedaled like mad toward the station.

It was only a little over a mile away, but riding straight into the wind made it almost impossible to open her eyes. Trash and flattened cardboard flew through the air around her.

By the time Nadia reached the station, she was drenched in sweat, her hair blown into a wild mess.

Because of the typhoon delays, packages were piled everywhere.

Nadia didn't even stop to catch her breath. She rolled up her sleeves and started digging through the stacks.

Luckily, her package was large. After more than ten minutes of searching, she finally found it.

The typhoon outside had grown even stronger. The sky was dark and heavy like night had already fallen.

Nadia clenched her teeth, picked up the big package, and headed out.

The moment she stepped through the door, a violent gust slammed into her. Her whole body was swept off her feet.

Just in time, a man loading packages beside a vehicle shot out his hand and grabbed her.

His stance was steady. With one strong pull, he dragged Nadia back from the wind.

Nadia thanked him, but her voice was swallowed by the storm.

The man glanced at her and said, "The typhoon's already here. Carrying a package out isn't safe."

Nadia hadn't expected the storm to turn this bad so fast. She had no choice but to retreat into the station, refreshing the ride-hailing app over and over while adding a bigger tip.

But there were more than 300 people ahead of her in line, and not a single driver was accepting rides.

The man had picked up a lot of packages and packed his Hummer almost full. Seeing Nadia's anxious face and the way she kept looking for a way out, he hesitated before asking, "Where are you going?"

Only then, under the station lights, did Nadia get a clear look at him. He wore a black T-shirt and jeans and looked to be in his early twenties. His hair was cropped short and clean. His jawline was sharp, looking cold.

He was tall, at least 6 feet, with long legs.

Nadia thanked him again. The man's expression stayed calm and distant as he replied, "No big deal."

She said, "I live at Crest Gardens. Could you give me a lift? I can pay you."

The man nodded and opened the door.

The back seat was packed full. Nadia opened the front passenger door and found a little girl sitting there.

She looked about five, with a timid face and a pink dress. Her round eyes looked up at Nadia.

The man said, "Daisy, let the lady hold you."

The apocalypse was already here. No one would care about traffic cameras anymore.

Nadia lifted Daisy onto her lap and tucked the package by her feet.

The wind screamed outside, but the Hummer drove steadily through it.

Under the dark sky, broken branches whipped through the air. Sheet metal roofing had been torn loose and clattered loudly in the storm.

Farther down the street, a girl in a dress clung tightly to a utility pole. From the shape of her mouth, she seemed to be screaming for help.

The disaster had officially begun.

Chapter 5 We're Not Close

The ride was only a little over a mile. In a few minutes, they reached the entrance of Nadia's apartment complex.

Nadia held out 500 dollars to him, thanking him for saving her and for taking the risk of driving in this weather.

The man's voice was cool and firm. "No need. I'm going the same way."

Since he refused to take it, Nadia didn't push. Before getting out, she reminded him, "The typhoon might knock out the water and power. Remember to stock up on food."

After speaking, she pushed open the door, hugged the package to her chest, and ran into the wind.

Big raindrops started pelting down. Nadia wiped her face in a mess and stepped out of the elevator, only to look up and see Wesley and Sylvia standing outside her apartment.

They must have been waiting for quite a while. Wesley's face was tight with impatience, while Sylvia still wore a sweet smile. Her white dress made her look pure.

"What took you so long?" Wesley snapped. "We've been waiting forever."

The sight of them dragged up every ugly memory from the apocalypse in Nadia's mind: the bullying, the humiliation, and the way they had watched coldly while demons tore her apart. Nadia's mood turned foul in an instant.

In her previous life, she had been stupid. She couldn't blame anyone else for that. But if they wanted to leech off her again in this life and steal her necklace, she wouldn't back down.

She thought bitterly, 'Everything I went through, they'll go through twice as hard.'

Her face stayed blank as she asked, "What do you want?"

Nadia had always been warm and eager around Wesley. Now that she had turned cold without warning, Wesley froze for a second before blurting out, "Why didn't you come to my birthday?"

"We're not close. Why would I go?" Nadia retorted.

"You..." Wesley's words choked in his throat.

He thought, 'What's wrong with her? She's clearly been chasing me. She even said long ago that she would give me a gift.'

Wesley didn't come for the gift. Sylvia was interested in Nadia and wanted to meet her.

Sylvia studied Nadia with a gentle smile. "Hey, Nadia, nice to see you."

Nadia's voice was icy. "I don't know you."

Sylvia looked a little embarrassed, but her voice stayed sweet. "Today is Wesley's birthday. We're all from the same school, so we thought we'd get together."

Wesley's birthday party had already happened at noon. Dragging Nadia to the eighth floor now was only about taking the necklace from her.

Nadia mocked. "Are you deaf? Told ya we're not close. What does his birthday have to do with me?"

Wesley hadn't expected Nadia to be so cold. His expression darkened as he snapped, "Nadia, what's your problem?"

"You and she are wearing matching couple rings, but you keep inviting me to your place again and again. Are you two-timing her?"

"Don't flatter yourself. I'm not into you at all." Wesley was furious, his embarrassment turning into anger. "Sylvia, let's go."

But Sylvia didn't want to leave. She insisted, "Nadia, here's the thing. We came over for Wesley's birthday, but now the typhoon has hit, and I can't get back. Could I stay at your place tonight?"

Nadia retorted, "Are you insane? I already said I don't know you."

Wesley's face went grim. "Nadia, watch your mouth."

"This is how I talk. Don't come bothering me if you can't handle it," Nadia shot back.

Wesley grabbed Sylvia and started to leave, but Sylvia refused to move. She clenched her teeth and kept her smile in place. "Hey, that necklace you're wearing is really pretty. Where did you get it?"

Nadia took off the necklace, asking, "You want it?"

Sylvia's eyes lit up. "Would you sell it to me? I really like it."

Nadia let go, and the necklace fell to the floor.

Then she lifted her foot and stomped on it hard. Within seconds, the necklace shattered into pieces.

After the Storage Realm bound itself to Nadia, the necklace lost its original shine and turned dull. It was useless now.

Nadia knew if she didn't destroy it right in front of Sylvia, Sylvia might do something to hurt her.

Nadia scoffed, "Your liking makes me sick."

Seeing the necklace destroyed, Sylvia froze in shock and cried out.

With his girlfriend being humiliated, Wesley flew into a rage and started throwing insults at Nadia.

A dangerous look flashed in Nadia's eyes. "Get lost. And don't show up in front of me again."

Wesley's face turned dark with anger. He grabbed Sylvia and stormed off.

Only then did Nadia unlock the door and step inside. She couldn't wait to tear open the package.

The cold-weather suit was thick, soft, and warm once she put it on. The mummy-style sleeping bag was sewn with several layers of down, and the quality was excellent. When the deep freeze came, these could keep her alive.

Outside, the wind screamed. The sky was dark and heavy.

After locking every door and window, Nadia took out large plastic storage barrels and filled them with water. Once they were full, she put several into the bathroom inside the Storage Realm.

Once the typhoon and heavy rain fully hit, the complex would soon lose water and power.

Outside, the storm roared like the world was splitting apart. Inside, Nadia kept busy in the kitchen, prepping ingredients.

She cooked plenty of each dish. She packed the finished dishes into the stainless steel food pans she had prepared in advance, then placed them into the Storage Realm.