r/ReaderVibeBook

Natalie Shaw suddenly blacked out while being intimate with her boyfriend, Felix Harrison.

In a haze, she overheard him talking to Steven Keller, his friend who was a doctor.

Steven gave her a quick check and asked solemnly, "Felix, did you drug Natalie so you could secretly take her bone marrow for Mabel?"

Felix gently brushed some hair from Natalie's face. "Yeah. The poison I used is mild. If it reacts more during intimacy, it causes less harm overall."

Steven sighed deeply as he adjusted the medical tools.

"I truly don't get what's going through your head. Sure, Mabel tricked you back then. You chased her to the airport, crashed your car, went into a coma, and ended up blind. Has she ever shown up since? It was Natalie who stayed by your side.

"Let's be honest. If she hadn't cared for you, you might've been long gone because of Mabel.

"Now that Mabel's sick and dumped, she suddenly tells you the child is yours, and you just believe her? You even got married to her, and now you're stealing Natalie's bone marrow to save her. How can you be this heartless?"

Natalie's fingers twitched slightly, but no one noticed.

The sound of tools clinking filled the ward, along with Felix's weary voice.

"Mabel showed me a DNA test. I only got the marriage certificate so her kid would have a legal father. I've made sure all the news is sealed off so Natalie won't find out.

"Seventeen years ago, there was a fire at an art exhibition. My mom was trapped inside and had an asthma attack. Mabel found her medicine and helped her get out first.

"Even if we didn't have a child, I'd still give her everything."

Steven slammed the device down furiously.

"What about Natalie? She's been nothing but genuine with you. Don't tell me you never felt anything."

Felix didn't answer right away. After a few seconds of silence, he said hoarsely, "I only got with Natalie to make Mabel jealous. I didn't know things would turn out like this.

"But the wedding plans won't change. I'll just fake a marriage certificate with Natalie.

"I'll make it up to her. Get ready and send her to the operating room..."

Natalie had no idea how long she'd been unconscious. When she came to, her head was foggy, and her mind couldn't focus.

But the conversation she heard while unconscious kept echoing in her mind.

The fire had always haunted her.

Seventeen years ago, she was only nine and was caught in a terrible fire. After countless surgeries, she finally managed to live normally again. Even now, she hated thinking about it.

At 16, she met Felix at an art contest. Both he and his painting left a lasting impression on her.

She kept her feelings hidden for five years because he already had a childhood sweetheart—Mabel Jefferson.

But Mabel didn't like him. Two days after agreeing to date him, she got involved with someone else.

When Felix confessed to Natalie, she felt surprised and nervous, but she couldn't help falling for his tenderness and love.

Then came the accident. On their college graduation day, he crashed his car and fell into a coma. Mabel disappeared.

Natalie gave up a chance to study overseas to stay by Felix's side. Her father was so angry that he threatened to break off relations with her. He even moved the family to New York, forbidding her mother and brother from sharing the address.

When Felix woke up, he was like a wounded animal, hurting anyone who approached him.

Except for Natalie. No matter how crazy he got, she stayed.

One day, Felix slashed his wrist. Natalie tried to stop him and ended up with cuts.

They collapsed into the bloody tub, and somehow, they started doing intimate things crazily.

"Natalie, don't leave me!"

After that, everything spiraled out of control.

For over six years, Natalie had stayed by his side, shared everything with him, and tried to bring light into his dark world.

But now, she finally saw the truth. What she thought was love had been a lie from the beginning.

Felix poisoned her and slept with her on the night he proposed, just to take her bone marrow and save Mabel.

They even had a child.

Natalie grabbed her phone to call her family, but the first thing she saw was a friend request.

It was from Mabel.

After she accepted it, a message came right away.

"You're finally awake? Felix was worried I might relapse and need your bone marrow again, so he kept you unconscious for over six months. My apologies."

She also sent a copy of her and Felix's marriage certificate.

Natalie searched the current date online and was stunned to learn she had been kept in a drugged coma for half a year.

With trembling lips, she dialed her elder brother's number.

"Liam, I want to go home. If I agree to the arranged marriage, do you think Mom and Dad will forgive me?"

The sixth time photographs of his affair surfaced, Everett Whitmore tore the knife from my hand and slashed it across his own skin.

Stroke by stroke, he carved the name Sloane Bennett into his thigh.

“Satisfied? Will you leave Serena alone now?”

I stood frozen, staring at him as though he had become a stranger.

Everett had cheated for ten years, and we had spent every one of them tormenting each other.

Each time he crossed the line, I carved my name somewhere on his body.

I had cut my wrists, staged abductions, and even threatened Serena by suspending her from a helicopter. Every mark on him carried a history of violence.

But I had never felt this calm.

Confusion must have shown on my face, because a trace of tenderness crossed his hate-filled eyes.

“Serena is pregnant. Promise you won’t confront her again, and you can cut your name into me as many times as you want.”

“That makes ninety-nine marks. It’s a good number, so let’s stop fighting and live peacefully from now on.”

My throat suddenly tightened. “Live peacefully? Did you honestly mean that?”

He looked at me with pain and mockery.

“Honestly?”

“You already own my body. Stop trying to take the part of me that belongs to Serena.”

As he closed his eyes with numb resignation, I finally understood.

Ninety-nine did not represent his hope that our marriage would last.

It meant he had finally surrendered.

He was willing to sacrifice his entire life to protect another woman and the child she carried.

Grief poured through me, cold enough to chill every bone.

A lifetime suddenly felt too long to waste on him.

***

Everett did not care when I remained silent.

In his mind, I had already gotten what I wanted.

After a moment, he ripped open his shirt and continued cutting letters across the old and new scars covering his chest.

“Serena needs someone to care for her during the pregnancy. I’m paying in advance for the time, starting with today.”

A second version of my name appeared across his chest.

“She has a prenatal appointment tomorrow, and I need to go with her.”

The third name appeared along his stomach.

“She’s taking maternity photographs the day after that. I’m the father, so I have to be there.”

Then came the fourth name, followed by the fifth.

Ten names left his upper body torn and covered in blood.

Everett seemed unable to feel any of it as he mechanically planned each day of his future with Serena.

Beside him, the woman who had spent ten years marking him as hers looked like a cruel joke.

I snatched the knife away, my voice shaking beyond recognition.

“Everett, do you remember what today was?”

Irritation flashed through his eyes.

“What is it this time? Your birthday? Our anniversary?”

“Do you always have to use sentimental excuses to ruin the little time Serena and I have together?”

“I already carved your name into myself. What else do you want?”

I finally broke and screamed, “Today was the anniversary of Jamie’s death!”

Everett’s body went rigid, and he fell silent.

Jamie was the first baby I had lost before birth.

Thirteen years earlier, Serena drove drunk, struck my car, and caused catastrophic bleeding. Everett retaliated without mercy.

He sued until she lost everything and everyone abandoned her, leaving her to spend day after day outside my hospital room begging forgiveness.

Three years later, on the anniversary of Jamie’s death, Everett slept with her.

He shielded Serena from me and told me to stop being vindictive.

He said, “I grieved our baby too, but you’ve punished Serena enough. She has nothing left.”

“The past should stay in the past. Only the living still have a future.”

Somewhere in those three years of constant punishment, his heart had crossed a line.

My baby and I had become the price of their love.

Something inside my mind snapped, and I slapped both of them.

Everett accepted my blow without resistance, but when I struck Serena, he shoved me down the stairs.

Blood spread beneath me, and my second baby died by his father’s hand.

After that, I lost myself completely.

Whenever I caught him meeting Serena, he insisted they had done nothing inappropriate.

I still carved my name into his skin, desperately trying to cover the betrayal buried beneath it.

Ten years later, he had forgotten the death anniversaries of both our children.

Even the marks meant for me had become currency he used to purchase time for his affairs.

When he saw my anguish, Everett suddenly laughed.

The sound was filled with contempt.

“So what?”

He lifted his head, and his pitying gaze stabbed directly into mine.

“Was I supposed to drown in guilt forever and let Serena’s baby die without a father’s protection too?”

“Jamie died, and you weren’t the only person who suffered.”

“Ten years passed, yet you’re the only one who refused to move forward.”

“Sloane, you’re pathetic.”

"Ahh…"

A moan slipped out. I quickly covered my mouth.

Damn it. My sex addiction was flaring up, and my pills were at home. Nobody told us about this company retreat until this evening.

I'd had it since I turned eighteen. One brush of a man's skin and I got wet; bad nights, I came on the spot. I never told a soul, just swallowed my pills and stayed away from men.

So I did the math and told myself it was fine. Get a room, lock the door, ride it out alone, nobody ever finds out.

Then the supervisor announced, "Sorry, guys, the rooms are all booked… but we've got tents! Not many, so make do. Lark, you're in Dax's tent."

There went the door, and the lock, and my last shred of a plan.

I crawled straight in and curled up in the far corner, facing the wall, praying I'd be asleep before the last pill wore off.

Dax came in after me, reaching up to hook the lantern on the frame. His shirt pulled loose—hard ridges of abs, a dark line of hair sinking down. My thighs pressed together all on their own.

He sat down with his knees apart, and I could see the thick shape of him through his jeans.

I stared until my ears burned, then turned to the wall and dragged the blanket over my hip.

Under it I was already slick, panties glued to me, clit throbbing so hard it ached.

Then Dax moved closer.

"What's wrong?"

His heat landed on my back, close enough that I could smell him—soap, sweat, man.

"N-nothing. I’m fine."

Please… just stay away from me.

But he leaned in anyway, and the back of his warm hand brushed my bare shoulder.

That was all it took. My whole body jerked, and a hot pulse spilled out of me into my ruined panties.

I picked up my phone with shaking fingers. Midnight. Six hours since my last pill.

At the yacht party, everyone was playing Truth or Dare.

If you got called out for bluffing, you had to take a penalty shot.

When it was my turn, I looked at my boyfriend of eight years, Carter Shaw, and smiled. "I'm getting married this year."

The words weren't even all the way out before my best friend Lena Price threw her hand up. "Bullshit. There's no way you're getting married this year."

All eyes swung to Carter.

He lazily picked up a shot and slid it toward me. "You lost. Drink up."

I didn't hesitate. I downed it in one go. The liquor burned all the way down, and my heart twisted right along with it.

Then it was Lena's turn. She laughed and said, "I'm getting married this year too."

I called her out.

She arched an eyebrow, fished a marriage license out of her bag, and passed it around. The bride was her. The groom was Carter.

Everybody turned to me, grinning. "Luna loses again. We all knew, so this time you're taking a double penalty."

Carter gave this helpless smile. "We got married because we lost a dare last time. Come on, you lose, you take the drink."

In that moment, my blood ran ice-cold.

Lena hadn't just won the game. She'd won the man.

But they all forgot one thing—I always keep my word. I'll still get married. Just not to him.

***

Carter pushed a second shot toward me. "Okay, don't be like that. Lena and I only got married because we lost a dare. It doesn't mean anything. Give it a year, we'll get divorced."

He said it so casually, like he was sure I'd wait another year.

Lena's eyes went red. "Everybody was egging us on. I never thought it would blow up like this. Please don't hate me. Our friendship's been through way too much to let this ruin it, right?"

Someone next to her jumped in immediately. "Exactly. It was all a joke. That's why we didn't tell you."

Listening to them, I just went numb inside.

They all knew. And none of them thought it was a big deal. I was the only one being played for a fool.

I stood up.

Carter frowned. "Where are you going?"

"To get some air."

He lowered his voice, irritation bleeding through. "Enough already. Stop making a scene."

I looked at him and almost let out a laugh. So that was it. I'd been shut out by everyone.

I made my way to the far end of the deck alone. The wind was brutal. The ocean spread out black and endless.

I took out my phone and dialed my mother. She answered, sounding surprised. "Luna, why are you calling so late?"

I gripped the phone, my fingers freezing. "That arranged marriage you guys brought up before. I'll do it."

A beat of silence.

A few seconds later, my father took the phone. "Are you serious?"

"I'm serious."

"You're sure about this?"

"I'm sure."

I stared at the distant, swaying lights, my voice steadier than I actually felt. "I'm done waiting for Carter."

My mother's voice went sharp with worry. "Did he hurt you? Where are you? We're coming to get you."

"No need. I'll explain when I get home."

I was switched at birth and didn't return to the Quinn family until my teens. My biological parents always wanted me to come home, but I always felt this distance between us.

Then I met Carter, and I convinced myself that as long as I had him, it didn't matter if I ever truly went back.

Looking back now, I realize how little I valued myself and how much weight I gave him.

My mother asked softly, "Do you want to meet the match first?"

"No. Just set it up."

After I hung up, I stood there alone for a long time.

Music kept pulsing from the yacht. The laughter hadn't stopped.

They were all going to keep having fun tonight. My humiliation? It was just entertainment to them.

A message from Carter came through. [Stop being so dramatic. Come back.]

I stared at the screen, remembering a winter back in college. His first startup had just tanked, and he was crouched on the curb, chain-smoking.

When I found him, his eyes were red, and he asked me, "Luna, am I just a total screw-up?"

I told him it was okay, that I'd always have his back.

I gave him my whole heart, and he threw it to the wolves.

I deleted the message and shut my phone off.

That night, I finally decided I was done with him.

"Ronan, this is the tenth and final time. If you pick Bianca today, I am done with you for good."

Standing before the giant Moonstone, I looked the Alpha dead in the eye.

He didn’t know I had begged my father for these ten chances.

And he definitely didn't know the Alliance's deepest secret.

He thought his brute strength alone guaranteed him the King's throne. He was wrong.

The ultimate throne must be sanctified by a pureblood white wolf.

Only my family carries the Goddess’s white wolf bloodline.

Whoever I choose as my fated mate, becomes the Alliance King.

Maybe it was the arrogance of being Alpha King in his past life, but Ronan was completely confident. He thought I would never leave him.

He frowned. A flash of impatience crossed his eyes.

"I won’t change my mind, Lyra. If you really want to pick someone else, be my guest."

He suddenly reached out. His large hand cupped my cheek.

His rough thumb rubbed heavily over my lips. It was full of an Alpha’s possessiveness and dominance.

"But stop throwing a fit, Lyra," he looked down at me. "You know you can’t live without me."

I stared into his arrogant eyes. I was about to tell him I really wasn’t going to wait anymore.

But he had already turned around.

When an Alpha touches the Moonstone, the Goddess speaks to his soul. Only he can see the inner wolf of his true mate. He must then declare the Goddess's choice to the pack.

Ronan pressed his hand against the Moonstone. He closed his eyes.

I knew what he saw in his mind. He saw my magnificent white wolf. He felt our undeniable bond.

Ronan opened his eyes. He looked at me, then walked right past me. He stepped toward Bianca.

"The Goddess chooses Bianca," he lied flawlessly in front of the whole pack.

He grabbed the Luna’s crown. He placed it on Bianca’s head himself.

I went totally cold. An icy chill seeped deep into my bones.

"Our family’s patience has run out," my father stood behind me. His low voice was thick with fury. "Ten times is already an exception. There will absolutely not be another!"

I closed my eyes. I swallowed the taste of blood in my throat.

"I know, Father." My voice was soft, but there was zero hesitation. "Whoever chooses me this time, I’ll go with him."

My father let out a long breath of relief.

The crowd parted in fear. Silas, the ruthless Alpha of the Frostfang Pack, walked steadily toward me. He had always been Ronan's deadliest rival for the King's throne.

He gave me a deep look. He handed me an obsidian stone carved with a frost wolf crest.

It was a family token. It represented the highest level of a mating bond.

I raised my hand and took the stone firmly.

The ceremony ended. Everyone moved to the Pack House of the Alliance to assign suites.

As a high-ranking noble, I was supposed to get the "Moonlight Suite" built over natural hot springs.

"Give the suite to Bianca," Ronan ordered.

His voice echoed in the Pack House. He left no room for argument.

The Pack Steward dropped to his knees. He hit the hard floor.

"Alpha Ronan, you cannot! Lady Lyra is heavily wounded. Silver still curses her bones. Cold nights cause her agonizing pain! She desperately needs the hot springs to soothe her damaged inner wolf! Elder Crestwood specifically prepared this suite for her!"

Bianca’s eyes instantly welled up. A perfect tear slipped down her cheek.

"Ronan, let it go," she grabbed his sleeve, crying softly. "I don’t mind where I sleep. I can sleep in the lowest rank’s barracks. Don’t make my sister mad."

"Shut up. You deserve the best." Ronan squeezed her hand.

The day before school starts, Mom posted a screenshot of a money transfer in the family group chat.

I’d just gotten a thousand dollars, my heart leaping with hope, when Mom tagged me directly in the thread.

[Wallace, send that money over to your sister.]

I blinked, typing back: [Didn’t you send that to me?]

A voice note popped up immediately, sharp and clipped. “That money goes into both of Nana’s bank accounts so she won’t run short. How dare you think you deserve cash when your grades are garbage? Send it right back, or you’ll regret it.”

Tears stung my eyes, but I sent the full thousand back.

My account balance dropped to three dollars. I was about to ask if she could spare two hundred, only to find I’d been kicked out of the group.

Dad pulled me aside to comfort me. “Your mom’s just harsh but well-meaning, she means well. Take these three hundred. Don’t take it to heart. Pack your things; we’ll drive you two over to Duke University tomorrow.”

I wiped my eyes and loaded my luggage into the car that night. Yet when dawn broke, my suitcase lay discarded out on the driveway.

The heavy black hard-shell suitcase hit the ground, sliding across the concrete, its old lock cracking clean open.

Mom blocked the car door with one arm, her tone flat. “Nana’s got way too much luggage. There isn’t room. You’ll have to get there on your own.”

Dad tried to speak up for me, but one cold look from Mom shut him down instantly.

“I told you not to apply to Duke. We can’t drop two kids off there. This is what you get for not listening.”

I stared at the wide-open backseat, throat burning.

The trunk was stuffed full of Nadia’s belongings, plus gift bags for professors and new classmates. There was simply no spot left for my twenty-four-inch suitcase.

I should have known. Their perfect little family of three had never had space for an extra like me.

Duke, though, was never my real destination. A bird with no home belonged farther north.

***

Frayed, faded hand-me-down clothes spilled halfway out of my broken suitcase—castoffs Nadia no longer wanted.

I stood out in the open, summer sunlight burning hot against my skin.

Inside the car, Nadia was curled across Mom’s lap in a brand-new designer sundress. The AC was cranked so high she shivered.

Mom reached over to turn it down without a second thought, then frowned when she noticed I hadn’t left. “What are you still doing standing there?”

In the old days, I would have bowed my head and mumbled, “Okay, I get it.”

Growing up, our schools had sat on opposite ends of town.

Nadia went to the fancy private school five minutes from home. I commuted two hours each way across the city to an underfunded public school. Mom and Dad always drove Nadia.

From age seven onward, I got up at five every morning, trudging through the freezing dawn to catch the bus. My overstuffed backpack weighed me down until one shoulder hung lower than the other.

Nadia wouldn’t get up until seven, hair done up in perfect princess braids. She had time for a leisurely breakfast on the ride. Her Elsa-printed backpack never touched the ground; either Mom or Dad carried it for her.

I’d begged them to drive me once. All I got was, “It’s too far. We have work.”

If I pushed further, I got snapped at. “Why don’t you get grades half as good as your sister, then?”

Twelve years of this back-and-forth. I ought to have grown used to it.

But watching my pale, polished sister in the cool car, then looking down at my sunburned arms, my feet rooted to the pavement.

“There’s an empty seat back there,” Dad said, glancing over his shoulder from the driver’s seat, his brow furrowed. “Wallace’s thin, she won’t take up much room. Let her ride with us.”

Mom was smoothing sunscreen across Nadia’s arms and rolled her eyes. “Jude, come on. Nana’s going to be gone for six whole months. We still need to run errands for her supplies on the drive. We promised her, we can’t back out now.”

“Three of you squish in the back, or one of you sit up front,” Dad insisted.

“Not a chance,” Mom huffed. “I’m not riding shotgun in this blazing heat, and neither is Nana.”

Sweat soaked through the back of my shirt. I opened my mouth to say I’d happily take the front seat.

Nadia cut me off, pouting slightly. “Mom, isn’t this kind of unfair to Wally? You’ve never once driven her to school. I really don’t need a ride, y’know. I’m strong enough to haul my own bags.”

She flexed her delicate arms beneath her puff-sleeve dress for show. “See? I’ve got muscles!”

Mom and Dad laughed, the heavy tension dissolving in an instant. Once again, I was the awkward one ruining everyone’s good mood.

Dad coughed quietly. “Don’t be silly. You’re way too little, we’d never feel safe letting you go alone.”

“Unfair?” Mom scoffed. “This is her own fault! I told her not to apply to the same school as Nana. She refused to listen. She needs to learn a lesson.”

Dad caved. “Wally, you’ll have to take the train.”

I twisted the hem of my shirt, words stuck tight in my throat. I said nothing.

Car doors slammed shut. A two-hundred-dollar Venmo transfer popped up on my phone screen. I stared at it for a long time, then tapped accept.

Late that night, Dad texted me: [I’m sorry this happened. I’ll help you move your stuff when you get to Duke.]

I glanced at my phone, where a shipping alert popped up.

I typed back: [I’m not coming to Duke.]

My parents had no clue. Duke was never where I intended to go.

I’d applied to Cornell, far up north. No short flights there, only endless train rides.

A year before I was supposed to marry the eldest son of the Sutton family, Graham Sutton, I got into a car accident and never walked again.

Zach Sutton, the second son, stepped in and offered to marry me instead.

He treated me like I was made of glass.

In the third year of our marriage, I went to the rehab center and overheard his doctor say, “You caused that crash just so Sierra Moore could marry your brother. You turned Natalie Foster into a cripple just to get her out of the picture. She’s still working this hard to recover. Don’t you think it’s time to change the plan and actually help her recover?

“And you even had the surgeon remove her uterus during the surgery. She can’t have kids now, so she won’t be able to give the Suttons an heir or threaten Sierra’s place. But if she gives up on walking altogether, I’m afraid...”

Zach’s voice was calm and cold.

“Sierra wanted to marry my brother. That was the only way I could make it happen. I’d do anything for her.

“As for Natalie, I’ll make it up to her in other ways.”

My chest hurt so badly I could barely breathe.

So this perfect marriage of mine was just a lie.

I secretly reached out to a specialist overseas and agreed to start that aggressive treatment plan.

“But the side effects will wipe your memory,” the doctor warned me.

I signed the papers without a second thought.

There was nothing here worth remembering anyway.

The rehab room was silent except for the sound of me falling again and again. Each time, I got up, shaking.

The girl in the mirror looked wrecked and miserable.

But I had never wanted to stand more than I did right now.

Zach stood nearby, trying to comfort me, “Natalie, you don’t have to push yourself so hard. Even if you never walk again, I’m not going anywhere."

And I believed him.

For the past three years, he never missed a single therapy session. Rain or shine, he was always there. I truly believed that even if I stayed in a wheelchair forever, he’d stay by my side.

Everyone said I was the luckiest woman alive to have found a man like him.

And for a while, I believed it too.

Until today. I was feeling a little better and came to the rehab center early, alone. That was when I heard him talking to the doctor.

He told him not to let me recover too fast.

The doctor sighed, “You really are cruel. You already wrecked her legs with that crash. Now you won’t even let her hope for recovery?”

Zach’s voice was light, almost casual.

“If she recovers, Sierra might feel threatened.”

Sierra. His brother’s fiancée.

He said, “Natalie came from a powerful family. If she still had her title as a world-class dancer, then once she married into the Suttons, Sierra wouldn’t stand a chance.

“The only way Sierra could shine was if Natalie stayed broken.”

I started shaking. My whole body went cold.

That day of the crash, I’d been pinned under the car. My legs were shattered.

I still remembered the sound of bones snapping. I screamed for help. No one came in time. My legs were done for.

When I woke up, the doctors told me it was over. My career, my life as I knew it, gone.

I had been about to step onto the world stage. I was going to be one of the best dancers alive.

After the crash, I fell into a dark hole. I even thought about ending it all. It was Zach who pulled me out of that place.

And now, I found out it wasn’t fate that ruined me.

It was him. He had messed with the brakes.

Because of him, I lost everything I’d ever dreamed of.

Just thinking about it made me shake.

He noticed and gently held my hand.

“Are you cold?”

He draped a coat over my shoulders, brought me a glass of water, even warmed up a towel and placed it on my neck.

So gentle. So thoughtful.

Everything he did looked exactly like love.

Too bad it was all just an act.

The woman he really loved was the one he could never have—his brother’s fiancée.

On the day I was born, Hera came to my mother's birthing bed.

She did not punish Zeus for betraying his marriage again. Instead, she lowered her gaze to the newborn and gave her judgment in a voice colder than winter stone.

“This child will spend her life longing for love and never receiving it. Unless a man bound to her fate truly loves her and chooses her, her soul will be torn apart by pain when she turns twenty-five! ”

I am Callista, daughter of Zeus.

I am also Hera’s most innocent sinner.

A priestess once told me that three sons of the gods were tied to my fate. As long as I could enter a marriage bond with one of them, I might escape the curse before it devoured my mind.

Twenty-four years passed.

Now I'm in the last month of my twenty-fourth year, and not one of them came for me.

The final deadline before the curse swallowed me whole.

And Vandros, the man I had once placed my greatest hope in, was marrying Cecilia in the temple of Aphrodite.

*****

Cheers rose from inside the temple.

I stood outside the doors and watched Vandros lower his head to kiss Cecilia on the lips.

Cecilia was the daughter of Aphrodite and a mortal man. She was beautiful in a way that made people forget to breathe, and she was even better at making everyone believe she was fragile, pure, and worth protecting.

Including Vandros.

He had not always been like this.

Three years ago, a spear had pierced him through in the arena, and even the priests said he would not survive the night.

I was the one who offered my divine blood, enduring the pain of Hera’s curse, that was tearing at my soul, and dragging Vandros back from death.

Back then, he gripped my hand and swore, “Callista, you saved my life. From this day on, I will never fail you!”

Later, Cecilia cried to him and told him that I had hired men to humiliate her.

After that, Vandros never listened to another word I said.

The wedding hymn grew louder inside the temple, and the curse burst open in the deepest part of my consciousness. I bent over, and even breathing became a kind of torture.

So even at the very last moment, no one would choose me.

I turned away from the wedding and walked to the widest stone road outside the temple. Chariots for the celebration were racing past. If I stepped out now, everything would be over.

I closed my eyes and took one step forward.

The next instant, a horse screamed right in front of me, and the wheel of a chariot nearly brushed the hem of my dress.

Then a hand yanked me hard to the roadside.

“Callista!” A man’s furious roar exploded beside my ear.

“If you want to die, don’t die in front of everyone! Do you want an innocent charioteer executed for killing Zeus’s daughter?”

I opened my eyes and saw my brother, Theron.

Like me, he was a child of Zeus. He was also the person whose family love I had once wanted most.

Because of Hera’s rage, my existence had always been a stain in many people’s eyes.

Theron was my protector and my strongest brother.

He once fought for me and promised that he would treat his sister the best in the world.

But ever since Cecilia claimed I had ordered men to hurt her, Theron had refused to call me his sister again.

He dragged me onto his chariot and drove all the way out of the city, bringing me to the bank of a rushing river.

Before I could even stand steady, Theron slapped me hard across the face.

“You wanted to die, didn’t you?” He pointed at the river behind him, his eyes filled with nothing but disgust. “There are no innocent people here for you to drag down with you. If you want to die, die here.”

My face burned. My ears rang.

Still, I lifted my head and could not stop myself from asking, “Theron, why were you there?”

“Weren’t you supposed to be at Cecilia’s wedding?” I stared at him, my voice was shaking, “Did you... see me leave and follow me because you were worried about me?”

I knew the answer would not be the one I wanted.

And yet some laughably stubborn hope remained in my heart.

In my last life, my husband fell for a college girl.

I went crazy with jealousy. I tried everything to break them apart.

But I lost.

He destroyed my family... just to divorce me and marry her.

I couldn't accept it.

So I jumped off a building.

And he?

He looked at my body— with disgust.

"Couldn't you die somewhere else? You're ruining my view."

...

When I opened my eyes again, I was back— One month before he fell for her.

So this time, I went to where she worked. Watched her life like a stalker.

I needed to know—

What kind of girl... stole the man I loved for ten years.

In my last life, I never even met her.

All I had was a name... and a few photos.

I lost everything.

And my rival?

She never even showed her face.

--

The streets in Ardovelle were busy—cars and crowds everywhere.

I'd been sitting in a corner of a café called Déjà Vu for two hours already, facing the counter.

A young woman in a sky-blue apron was busy making drinks.

She was around 1.6 meters, probably less than forty-five kilos. Fair skin, always had a smile on her face. Her thick, dark hair was tied up in a high ponytail, and when she smiled, her eyes turned into crescent shapes that lit up the whole room.

“Ma’am, would you like a refill?”

She walked over with a bright smile.

How awkward. I’d been so lost staring at her that I completely zoned out. Good thing I was a woman, or someone might’ve thought I was some kind of creep.

“Sure. Still black,” I smiled politely, my voice giving nothing away.

Soon, she set another bitter black coffee on the table in front of me. But instead of leaving right away, she hesitated for a second before getting a little nosy.

“Ma’am, you’ve already had two cups of black coffee. I know it helps keep you awake, but drinking too much isn’t good for you. Maybe... you could save the next one for another time?”

She was kind and outgoing, her voice crisp and brisk, like wind chimes—pleasant to the ear.

I glanced at the black coffee, then stood up, purse in hand.

“Okay. Check, please.”

She beamed like she was glad I’d taken her advice.

I paid without a word and left the café quickly.

“Mrs. Crowe.”

The driver, Parker Ellis, respectfully nodded at me and opened the car door.

“Home.”

The car pulled off smoothly. I leaned back in my seat and closed my eyes, but my mind kept drifting back to the young woman at the café.

That was Lydia Fairburn.

The woman Preston Crowe was so set on divorcing me for one year from now, even though it meant burning every bridge with his family.

I hadn’t expected the first thing I did after being reborn was to go to her workplace and watch her like some kind of creep.

It was just... I was curious.

I wanted to know what kind of woman took away the man I’d loved for ten years.

In my past life, I never even met her. Preston kept her so protected, like she was the most precious thing in the world. All I had was a name and a few photos.

I lost everything, and my opponent never had to show her face.

Young, beautiful, innocent, kind, cheerful...

All those nice words fit her perfectly.

Her only flaw was her humble background, which created a huge gap between her status and Preston’s.

Just then, Parker broke the silence.

“Mrs. Crowe, today is your and Mr. Crowe’s anniversary.”

I opened my eyes, feeling dazed for a second.

Come to think of it, it had been five years since I married Preston.

Every anniversary, I’d get busy all day, preparing a candlelit dinner and a gift for him.

I was twenty-seven this year, and he was twenty-nine.

“I know.” I rubbed the bridge of my nose, feeling my head throb a little. “You don’t have to remind me.”

Parker probably said that because he’d sensed something off about me this year.

But why was I always the one putting in the effort?

Why did I have to love Preston?

I’d thought about this before dying in my past life.

For Preston, I ended up dying a tragic death, my family destroyed.

While I was lost in thought, Parker pulled up outside the villa Preston and I shared.

To my surprise, I saw Preston’s car.

He was home.

My feelings were complicated.

Now I’d come back from the dead, what kind of expression was I supposed to put on when I saw the person who caused my downfall?

I thought I’d hate Preston.

After all, for another woman, he’d cornered me—his wife of five years.

He’d even driven my parents to their deaths, even though they’d treated him like their own son.

He practically wiped out my whole family.

But now that I was actually seeing him, the hatred wasn’t as strong as I’d expected.

What was left was mostly just acceptance.

In my past life, Preston gave me a chance.

He said we could end the marriage peacefully, and to make it up to me, he’d give me some shares of the Crowe Group—enough to set me up for life.

But I refused.

I was so bitter.

After ten years, I still couldn’t make him love me even a little, yet another woman spent only one year making him fall head over heels.

How was I supposed to accept it?

So I tried everything to win him back.

But step by step, it escalated—from a rift, to a standoff, to a point where only one of us could walk away alive.

This time, none of that had happened yet.

Instead of wasting my energy hating him, I’d rather change the fate that left me a tragedy.

“Why are you standing there?”

Preston sat on the sofa in the living room, his long legs casually crossed. The cigarette between his fingers had burned down. He stubbed it out in the ashtray with practiced ease, then glanced up at me with the same indifference he always had.

The day we married, he told me bluntly that we were at most roommates, that our marriage was basically a partnership, that he felt nothing toward me.

“Nothing. Just surprised to see you home.”

I bent down to change into slippers.

They were Hermès, elephant gray, simple design, understated color.

Comfortable—probably the only thing they had going for them.

Then Lydia in the blue apron popped back into my mind.

Right—there was a little red flower smiley face pinned to her apron.

None of the other staff had that.

Then I thought about my clothes—all expensive and dull.

Simple as always.

Boring as always.

Suddenly, I found those slippers repulsive.

I kicked them off and walked into the living room barefoot.

Preston noticed. He frowned slightly, a hint of surprise flickering across his eyes.

“You’re not wearing your slippers?”

“No. Don’t feel like it.”

I answered flatly, sitting down across from him.

“That’s rare. Who got under your skin?”

He actually chuckled, and his tone was light—both were probably a first.

I wanted to say, “Your future soulmate,” but I held back.

Instead, I looked down at my pale feet.

Because I was so thin, they looked a little bony.

Lydia was different.

She was thin, too, but her skin was firm and healthy.

Me?

I was practically skin and bones.

Five years of a lonely marriage had done a number on me.

I had no appetite, so I kept losing weight, and now I looked like a skeleton.

“Preston,” I said.

“Yeah?”

He was on his phone, not bothering to look up.

My gaze lifted from my feet to him, my voice a little hoarse.

“I want a divorce.”

He scoffed.

Tossing his phone onto the sofa, he looked at me, his gaze familiar—cold and indifferent.

“What are you playing at this time, Bianca?”

“I mean it.”

I sat up straight and met Preston’s intense gaze without flinching.

“It’s been five years. You’re not going to fall for me anyway. Let’s just cut each other some slack.”

In a month, there’d be a big business conference in Ardovelle.

Preston would meet Lydia there.

It would be love at first sight for him, and he’d stop at nothing to get her.

What an epic love story.

No way I was sticking around to be the disposable side character.

In my past life, I did everything I wanted to do, could do, and should do.

And I saw how it ended.

This time, I wasn’t going to make a fool of myself or drag my family into the abyss again.

I decided to step away before Preston met Lydia.

I decided to remove myself from the picture before their rocky journey even began.

Just after I learned my third IVF attempt had failed, Julian glanced at his phone and said offhandedly, "By the way, your friend Scarlett and I have a child."

The side effects of the medication hadn't worn off yet, and I thought I was hallucinating.

He met my shocked gaze without flinching, simply bringing a glass of warm water to my lips. "After your first attempt failed, I was in a terrible mood. We had sex after a charity gala."

"Our son, Liam, was born around the time of your second transfer. He looks just like me."

"The reason I wasn't with you when you got the results today was because I was throwing his first birthday party."

My world shattered. An icy chill flooded my veins.

My best friend since college and my husband of seven years… have a child together?

Seeing my disbelief, Julian put down the glass and picked up his phone.

A cozy photo of the three of them appeared before my eyes.

A faint smile touched his lips as he wiped a drop of water from the corner of my mouth. "Liam's starting school soon. I don't want him labeled an illegitimate child, so I thought it was time to be honest."

"Darling, you'll understand, won't you?"

————————

1

It felt as if an invisible hand was squeezing my throat, and I could barely breathe.

My ears were ringing as I stared at the photo on the screen.

It wasn't photoshopped.

My friend Scarlett and Julian had their arms around each other, holding a small child who was the spitting image of Julian.

They must have taken the picture right after I left the clinic.

"Why are you only telling me now?"

After a long silence, I managed to force the words out.

Julian gently wiped a tear from the corner of my eye. "Scarlett was afraid you couldn't handle it, so she told me not to tell you."

"Darling, since you can't get pregnant anyway, Liam can be your child from now on, okay?"

The man who'd doted on me for seven years was saying the cruelest things imaginable.

Just yesterday, he had been stroking my belly, full of hope, imagining our future.

"If it's successful this time, and it's a boy, I'll have him inherit the company. If it's a girl, she'll be a carefree little princess."

"The three of us will live happily ever after, okay, darling?"

In a single night, my world had been turned upside down.

Instinctively, I raised my hand to slap him, but he caught it easily.

His gentle tone was laced with a threat. "Behave, darling."

"Your mom is still at Sloan Kettering, waiting for the CAR-T therapy team I arranged for her final treatment. Have you forgotten?"

My body went rigid, and I stared at him in disbelief. "Are you threatening me?"

Julian and I had been together for seven years, and he had never even spoken a harsh word to me.

Endless gossip had always swirled around my frail health and repeated IVF failures.

But Julian was fiercely protective; anyone who gossiped about me found their career sabotaged or their reputation ruined overnight.

Everyone in our circle knew Julian spoiled me rotten, protecting me fiercely.

But now, this very same man was using my critically ill mother to threaten me into accepting his illegitimate child.

Tears of rage burned my eyes. I smashed the water glass at his feet, screaming, "Get out!"

"Get the hell out!"

Just as the words left my mouth, a little boy stumbled into the room.

The child slipped in the splash of water and crumpled to the floor.

Julian's face darkened at the sound of the boy's sharp cries.

He scooped the boy up and glared at me furiously. "Clara, don't take this too far."

I snapped my head up to see a face that was a miniature version of Julian's.

Pain, sharp as a blade, tore through me.

The next moment, Scarlett, whom I hadn't seen in two years, appeared in the doorway.

Her expression tightened when she saw the father and son embracing, and she rushed forward to take the child. "Liam, don't cry, don't cry. Mommy brought you to see Auntie Clara."

Then, she turned to me with an apologetic smile. "What's wrong? Why are you so angry?"

"Clara, don't be so sad. You can always have another child."

I bit my lip hard, staring blankly at Scarlett, whom I hadn't seen in two years.

Two years ago, she left without a word, telling me she was heading to the West Coast to start a business and chase her dreams.

For two years, we talked every day, telling each other how much we missed one another.

When I was devastated by the three failed IVF attempts, she was the one who called to comfort me through countless nights.

I used to think that even if I never had a child, at least I had a devoted husband and a true best friend.

But in an instant, reality had shattered that illusion.

The backyard barbecue was half dead when the boy I grew up with asked me:

"College apps close tomorrow. You still haven't noticed yours got changed?"

I blinked at him. No idea what he was talking about.

Tiffany snorted.

"Asher and I made a bet. We wanted to see how long it'd take you to notice we swapped your Stanford app to UCLA."

"But you're so damn slow you still haven't caught it."

"Hurry up and change it back. Otherwise you and Asher are doing long-distance."

I stared at the burnt chicken wing in my hand. Suddenly it all felt so pointless. I tossed it.

Tiffany and Asher ran the school. They traded the number-one spot back and forth like a game of catch.

I clawed my way to fiftieth.

They offered to tutor me together. Boost my ranking.

Neither of them could stand losing to the other.

"Asher, you suck at teaching. Grace looks completely lost. I bet she won't even crack the top fifty this time."

"I bet she breaks top thirty. Loser buys lunch for a month."

Somewhere along the way my tutoring sessions turned into their debate club.

I absorbed nothing. Dropped to one hundredth.

We planned a graduation trip. I overheard them betting again.

"I canceled Grace's ticket. I bet she still hasn't noticed." Tiffany sounded so sure of herself.

"If she has, you write my essays for a month."

I had to buy my own ticket. Watched them board the same flight.

Now they'd moved the bets to my college application.

I wasn't changing it back.

UCLA. Fine. As long as it was far away from them.

***

"Neither of us guessed the exact date Grace would find out, but I came closer."

Tiffany patted Asher's shoulder. Smug.

"So you still lose. Two months. My personal servant."

"Servant boy. Peel me a shrimp."

Asher gritted his teeth.

"The rules clearly said exact date. You're cheating."

"But a gentleman doesn't argue with a lady. I'll let it slide."

His face screamed no. His hands said yes. He shelled it clean. Held it to her mouth.

He turned to me.

"I'm just honoring the bet. Don't read into it."

"You want shrimp? I can peel you one too."

Asher hated rule-breakers. No exceptions. Ever.

Before the SATs he set me a schedule. Two hours of tutoring. Every day.

Once I had cramps so bad I couldn't get out of bed. I asked for ten minutes.

His face went cold.

"Don't fold the second things get hard. How are you supposed to apply to the same school as me?"

"Suck it up. Or I'm done teaching you."

I cried over that for weeks. Thought he didn't care about me at all.

Now I was watching him break every rule for Tiffany.

I gripped the skewer. Nails bit into my palm. The sting snapped me back. I shook my head.

"No thanks. I don't like shrimp."

"But you used to love shrimp. Why don't you—"

"Tiffany's the one who loves shrimp." I cut him off.

Two seconds of silence.

Asher's mouth opened. Closed. Nothing came out.

After the food, Tiffany suggested a walk by the lake.

Midway I crouched to tie my shoelace.

When I looked up, Asher and Tiffany were thirty feet ahead.

Laughing. Neither of them looked back.

I watched their backs. Took a slow breath. That feeling of being invisible—it suffocated more than any fight ever could.

My mind has always wandered. Hard to focus on anything.

Walking too. I lagged behind everyone else.

Asher used to slow down for me. Glance back. Check I was still there.

Sometimes when my laces came undone he'd kneel and tie them himself.

People called me his shadow. He'd always push back:

"Grace isn't a shadow. She just notices things. Her attention gets pulled somewhere else."

Somewhere along the way, whenever he and Tiffany got together, they'd bicker endlessly.

Engrossed enough to forget me entirely.

Watching their backs pull farther away, for the first time I didn't follow.

I pulled out my phone. Opened the iMessage group chat.

Asher made it for tutoring. After graduation my account glitched and I got locked out.

Three days ago it finally came back.

They hadn't kicked me out. They hadn't added my new number either.

Three days. I watched them message from morning to night.

Sniping at each other. Something felt off.

Ten minutes ago Tiffany sent a message in the group.

"Let's pretend we left Grace behind. Nobody answer her texts. Let's see if she cries."

"No. She's scared of walking alone at night. We can't ditch her." Asher refused.

Tiffany snapped: "You're my servant right now. Do what I say."

Asher replied with dots. Nothing else. No more objections.

I stared at the screen. Fingers hovering.

Then I typed. Sent. Yanked it back.

"I know. Enjoy your game."

Done. I shut off my phone. Opened Uber.

While the car came I searched the highest-rated Italian spot nearby. Ate a full dinner by myself. Snapped a photo. Posted it to my Instagram Story. Caption: "Solo dates are the best dates."

Starting today, I make the rules.

The first thing that should have told me this wasn't my room was the curtains.

I didn't have the luxury to ever have curtains of any kind in my room it was half torn up window blinds or nothing most of the time.

The second thing is that this bed was far too big to be my full sized bed. It was King sized at least with comfortable sheets and a mattress that felt like it should be illegal to get out of.

"What the…" I mumbled, pushing up to my elbows and yawning as I tried to chase away the last bit of sleepiness. The room came into focus slowly, there were cream walls with minimalist furniture and a desk with a sick gaming setup tucked neatly into the corner.

This was not my room, not even close.

I patted around for my phone but couldn't find it anywhere. Damn, had I gone drinking last night or something? My brain scrambled for any semblance of memory but it was all just a fuzzy static.

Ding.

A notification sounded from somewhere but with my skull currently feeling like it just got split open it was pretty low on my priority list.

"Water," I croaked while swinging my legs off the bed, My feet hit plush carpet instead of the chicken scratch carpet I was used to. I stood up shakily, nearly tripping at the unfamiliarity of my long legs.

Why was I so tall?

The door felt like it was a million miles away as I shuffled to it. I grabbed the handle and pulled it open to reveal a hallway that looked like it belonged on Architectural Digest. There were hardwood floors that gleamed under the recessed lighting with paintings that hung the walls and sculptures that filled up the empty void. Some of them looked like superheroes wearing capes.

Huh, must be big Marvel fans.

Another door stood slightly ajar down the hall and I went towards it. Hopefully the bathroom is here.

I opened the door and the bedroom was thankfully unoccupied but obviously belonged to a girl. The walls were a soft purple and there was a vanity with makeup scattered across it. Posters of what I could only describe as a KPOP group who had a super hero aesthetic filled the walls as well.

"Okay, wrong room. Wait… a girls room?"

I rubbed my eyes and looked again. Yeah, it was still a girl's room.

"Holy shit," I whispered. "Did I end up at a sorority house? Did I actually lose my virginity my first semester?" I grinned despite the headache. "Fucking champion move! But why can't I remember any of it?"

The next door revealed what looked like an office. Expensive furniture, shelves of books, framed certificates on the walls. I closed it quickly.

Door number three: a linen closet packed with towels.

Fourth door: finally, a bathroom. Massive, marble-countered, with a shower that could fit five people. I staggered to the sink, twisted the fancy faucet, and splashed cold water on my face repeatedly.

The shock of it helped clear my head a little. I took a deep breath and looked up at the mirror.

A stranger stared back at me.

"WHAT THE HELL?!"

I clapped a hand over my mouth before slowly lowering it, watching the reflection do the exact same thing. The face in the mirror looked nothing like the me I remembered. This guy was tall and skinny with sharp cheek bones and dirty blonde hair. Amber eyes—who the hell has amber eyes?—stared back at me, wide with shock.

"Who the fuck are you?" I whispered, watching the stranger's lips move in perfect sync.

I touched my face and the skin felt real underneath my fingertips. I pulled at my cheeks and stuck out my tongue watching the mirror do the exact same movements.

"This is a dream," I decided. "A very weird, detailed dream. I'm going to wake up in my dorm room with a hangover any second now."

Ding.

That notification again. This time, something flashed across my vision like a heads-up display in a video game. Text floated in the air:

[SCUMBAG SYSTEM: Welcome, Host. System initialization complete.]

I blinked hard, but the text remained.

[SCUMBAG SYSTEM: Memory integration beginning. Please stand by.]

"What the actual—"

My head felt like it was exploding with the influx of information entering my brain. Names, places, years of memories that I now currently have ownership of in someway. I was the ward of Diane Fitzgerald and the unmarked son of dead heroes.

I was Lukas Belmont.

I gripped the counter as the bathroom spun around me with these foreign memories flooded my brain. He was in a city called Verano aspiring for a school named Halloran Academy. The society was filled with people that had superpowers called Aspects that were registered with something called the IHL.

And there was me, Lukas Belmont who had no powers at all.

"Holy shit this can not be happening," I whispered, but even as the words slipped out of my mouth I knew it was real.

Somehow, I had woken up in someone else's body, in a world where superheroes were real and licensed and ranked.

[SCUMBAG SYSTEM: Memory integration complete. Host identity: Lukas Belmont. Status: Unmarked. Current mission: None.]

"Mission? What mission?"

[SCUMBAG SYSTEM: Mission queue empty. Processing...]

The text hovered for a moment, then changed:

[SCUMBAG SYSTEM: New Main Quest unavailable.]

"Alright then."

I looked back in the mirror to see the stranger, well, myself now. Lukas wasn't bad looking at all he just looked tired. Those amber eyes of his carry so much weight and now they carried mine too.

I splashed some more water on my face and then grabbed the softest hand towel I'd ever had to dry off. Okay, time to get my bearings and figure out who Lukas Belmont truly was.

I headed back to what I now understood was Lukas's bedroom, my bare feet silent on the hardwood. As I walked, another notification pinged:

[ORACLE FEED ACTIVATED]

[Current threat assessment: None]

[Local points of interest: Kitchen (occupied) - Sloane Fitzgerald present]

Text appeared in my peripheral vision, listing information about the house layout and current occupants. Apparently, part of this "system" was an awareness feed that told me where people were and what they were doing.

"That's not creepy at all," I muttered, pushing open the door to Lukas's room.

Inside, I found the closet and pulled it open. Rows of clothes hung neatly—expensive-looking but understated. I grabbed jeans and a dark hoodie, both of which fit perfectly. Of course they did. This was supposedly my body now.

As I dressed, I caught sight of a photo on the nightstand. A man and woman in colorful uniforms smiling proudly at the camera.

Lukas's parents.

Damn, this kid had lost his parents and now it seems like I took over his life. That's rough buddy.

I picked up the photo to study the faces of Varen and Reina Belmont. Heroes who died saving civilians.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, though I wasn't sure if I was apologizing to them or to Lukas himself.

I set the photo down and headed for the door. Time to face whatever this world had in store for me.

As I stepped into the hallway, another notification flashed:

[ORACLE FEED UPDATE]

[Subject: Sloane Fitzgerald]

[Location: Kitchen]

[Status: Irritated]

[Temptation Gauge: 22%]

"Temptation gauge?" I whispered. "What the hell is a—"

[SCUMBAG SYSTEM: The Temptation Gauge measures a woman's attraction level to the host. Current subject: Sloane Fitzgerald. Current level: Curious (22%)]

I stopped dead in the hallway. "You're telling me this system tracks how much women want to sleep with me?"

[SCUMBAG SYSTEM: Affirmative. Temptation Gauges generate System Points when increased. System Points purchase Gacha pulls. Gacha pulls award abilities.]

"So, a dating sim's reward loop bolted onto a gacha mechanic," I said to the empty hall. "All set in a superhero world where main only path to power is getting women hot enough to fund my slot machine pulls. Fantastic."

[SCUMBAG SYSTEM: Correction: The system awards real abilities through the Gacha. Abilities are not detectable by conventional Aspect scans.]

I leaned against the wall, trying to process this. "So I can get powers, but nobody will know I have them because I'm registered as Unmarked?"

"Enough of this madness! You're pregnant-can't you understand? I only held her pup to prepare myself for ours, for the life that's waiting for us."Confusion and panic clashed across Kael's face. His eyes flicked away as he hastily pulled up his collar, trying to hide the faint lipstick stain beneath it."Caring for that pup is my responsibility as Alpha," he snapped. "Every pup in this pack deserves my protection. And now you're using this absurd excuse to reject our mate bond? Have you lost your mind?"I forced the tremor from my voice and spoke steadily. "Tell me, Kael. Every night after you leave, a pain claws at my chest until I can barely breathe. You know exactly what I mean-don't you?"His gaze wavered for a heartbeat before hardening. "I don't know what you're talking about. It's all in your head, Elara. You've always exaggerated your pain to gain attention. I once pitied you-now I only see delusion."My expression remained calm, though every bone in my body ached. From my leather satchel, I drew out the bond dissolution papers and brought them down sharply on the table."Sign it. Tomorrow, we'll finalize it before the Elder Council."Gasps rippled through the hall, the pack's mind-link erupting in disbelief.Years ago, Kael had knelt before the Moon Goddess's statue for three days and nights, praying to claim me as his Luna. The elders had warned him against such obsession, but he had sworn, voice raw with devotion, that he would rather walk alone for eternity than live a single day without me.It was a legend the pack cherished-how the Alpha and Luna had once moved the Moon Goddess herself. No one could accept that such a bond now stood on the brink of collapse.I no longer listened to their thoughts. I turned to leave.Shock filled Kael's eyes. He had not expected the papers. My mother seized them from the table, her face darkening as she read."Elara… you truly wish to dissolve the bond? Ten years-you've loved each other for ten years. What happened?"Pleas flooded the mind-link. Even Kael's warriors urged me to reconsider.They called me jealous. Narrow-minded. Unworthy of my title as Luna.I said nothing, only sliding the papers back toward Kael. "I came here with one purpose. This bond ends today."A sharp crack echoed. Pain exploded across my cheek. My father stood before me, fury blazing in his eyes."You ungrateful child! How dare you abandon an Alpha like Kael? Do you have no shame?"My mother grabbed his arm, her voice shaking. "Elara, this isn't something you decide lightly. Being Kael's Luna is a blessing."Then horror crossed her face. "You haven't… fallen in with rogues, have you?"Blood filled my mouth as accusations drowned me.Kael stepped forward, cradling my face with practiced gentleness. "Even if you've betrayed me, remember-I am the mate the Moon Goddess chose to protect you. If you turn back now, I'll pretend this never happened."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Inside was a switchblade.

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

Once. Twice. Three times.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Avery listened while keeping herself afloat.

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

Public announcements usually came with extra rewards and early advantages.

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

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