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2,756,860	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2756305}'	No	2025-03-03 12:18	active	2772	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	"Where is she?" I hear the Beta scream. I groan and rise to my feet, grabbing the cleaning basket before heading over. The moment Beta Kyle sees me, he strides towards me and his hand slices against my cheek. I don't make a sound. Years of experience has taught me to keep my mouth shut at all times. "Alpha Trey is expecting company and you still have not cleaned the office." Beta Kyle spits at me. I nod my head and my hand tightens on the cleaning basket. If only I could find the courage to swing it at his head, it would make my day. But I didn't need another week locked up with no food. My stomach already hurt enough. "We are trying to make a good impression on Alpha Dane. Don't you understand how important it is for us to join ourselves with his pack?!" I don't answer, It's a trap, a ploy to provoke me into saying something that would justify punishment. I keep my eyes lowered, avoiding his gaze. "He is the Alpha of Black Shadow, the biggest pack in the world, we need him!" We had never been attacked and we had never attacked anyone, so why did we need another pack to help us? He grabs my shoulders, his nails digging into my skin as he turns me around and kicks me into the office. "Useless Wolf." He mutters as he moves away. Quietly closing the door, I lean against it, observing the already clean office. It looked perfectly fine for a meeting with this so-called powerful Alpha. Closing my eyes, I slide down to the floor. I hated this house. I thought that when I turned eighteen, I could finally escape, but four years later, here I still am, a slave in my own home. Doing all the dirty tasks for my brother, Alpha Trey and the pack. While my ex mate, Beta Kyle waltzes around reminding me of how worthless I am. Someone clears their throat and I freeze, I thought I was alone. Leaning forward, I see a handsome man sitting in a chair, just around the corner. A foot propped up on his knee as he nurses a glass of alcohol. His short hair is dark and his eyes are a deep crimson colour, that don't quite look right. They suddenly shift to me and I throw myself back against the door as my heart pounded. "Is this the way you greet all Alphas?" His deep voice rumbles through the room, there was an edge of amusement to his tone. "I'm sorry." I whisper, getting to my feet. "I...I thought I was alone." I had no idea who he was but I could feel the power radiating off of him, even without my Wolf. "Come forward." He orders and I already feel a lump forming in my throat. Alpha Trey wil kill me. I step around the corner, doing as I'm told, allowing him to see me properly. I close my eyes, expecting the worst. "You smell funny. Yet you are a Wolf, correct?" I nod, though I couldn't tell how he was going to react. Most laughed when they found out about me. "I would prefer it if you spoke to me." He growls, "I'm not in the mood to play games." "Yes." I whisper. I couldn't help but think of all the punishments I was going to have to endure. A whipping maybe? Starvation for another week? "Why do you smell strange? And how is it possible for you to not know I was in the room? You should have scented me." "I..." I hated the question. "You should open your eyes when you are talking to someone. Has your Alpha not taught you anything?" His deep voice sends a shiver through me. Slowly, I open my eyes and lower them, there was no way I was making eye contact."My Wolf abilities were bound," I mutter. Twice, I wanted to add. Twice my abilities were bound. But he probably wasn't interested in that part. He leans forward, I could feel him staring at me, "Why would someone do that?" If this is the Alpha that my brother is supposed to be meeting with, I knew I could screw everything up for him by saying too much. "It was a punishment." I whisper. It wasn't far from the entire truth. There's a twitch in his cheek. Was he angry to hear of such a punishment? Or maybe, just like the others, he was amused by it. I couldn't tell. The door swings open and my brother screeches at me "Neah, what are you doing in my office?" He turns to the crimson eyed man. "I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane." Crap, it's him. My brother spins around, hand poised to hit me. I close my eyes, bracing myself, ready to feel the burn. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."Peeking through slits, I see Alpha Dane has risen to his feet, his hand coiled around my brother's wrist. He is taller than my brother, more muscly too. "Neah," My name rolls off of his tongue, "was kindly showing me to your office, Alpha Trey, as you failed to meet me at the front of your house like I requested." What? I had no idea what he was talking about. And he had no reason to lie for me. My brother glares at me, withdrawing his hands reluctantly. "Neah is your sister, correct?" Alpha Dane questions my brother. "She is." Alpha Trey mutters with disgust. He looks away from me to focus on the man asking questions. "Why do you treat her like trash?" No one had spoken to my brother about his treatment of me because everyone took great joy in beating me. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't move but I knew I'd better leave. If this deal goes to pot because of me, then that would be my fault too. "Neah was responsible for our parents' death." Alpha Trey spits. I closed my eyes, battling back the tears that were threatening to break free. "Responsible how?" Alpha Dane's voice rumbles through me. He was definitely angry. "She served them Wolfsbane." Don't make a sound. Don't make a sound. I knew Alpha Dane was studying me. They all did, no one could ever quite believe how someone could do something so disgusting as poisoning their own parents. I stood there, with my head hanging low, wishing for the ground to open up and suck me in. There are movements around me. He was standing directly in front of me. With a rough finger he tilts my face up towards his, forcing me to look at him. "You poisoned your parents?" "I was six." I splutter. "I just made them lemonade." My voice comes out all squeaky as I try to defend myself. I could barely remember my parents, but I could remember all the guilt I had been made to feel since that day. His crimson eyes flash to my brothers. "Hardly seems fair to blame a six year old." "A six year old should know the difference between plants." Alpha Trey snaps "Sounds to me like she was set up." Alpha Dane shrugs his shoulders, letting go of me. "You weren't there, Alpha Dane." My brother muttered through gritted teeth as his eyes narrowed to slits. "I didn't ask you here to talk about my slave!" Alpha Dane grabs his leather jacket from the chair. Unlike other Alpha's, he seemed to dress more casually, and his arms are bare of tattoos, not a single bit of ink poked out anywhere. "You're right and now I have a few things to mull over." "I thought we agreed." My brother exclaims. "Nothing has been signed. Now I will show myself out." The moment he is out of the office, my brother slams a hand into my stomach. "What the heck did you say to him?" "N...nothing. Well, he just asked me why I smelled funny." "Did you tell him?" My head involuntarily moves up and down. "But I didn't say it was you." I tried to sound strong and confident but it just comes out as a whisper. My brother's hand locks into my black hair as he yanks my head back, sending a shooting pain through my skull. "If you have ruined this, you won't see daylight again." He drags me by my hair from the office and down the hallway towards the basement door. "Please…." I beg. "He was an Alpha…I… I had to answer him." My cheeks burn with my tears as he flings the door open. On the other side of the door is Alpha Dane. He is leaning against the wall with his arms folded, staring out at us. My brother's hand falls from my hair, relieving the pressure on the back of my skull... "Alpha Dane, I thought you had left." Alpha Trey murmurs angrily. "I said I would show myself out. I thought I had found the door, but instead I find a basement, riddled in your sister's strange scent. Is this how you treat your family?" "It's none of your business!" Alpha Trey sputters. Alpha Dane laughs. "If I agree to this deal, everything about your business becomes my business. So tell me, what would your punishment be for her? No food, locked away for a week, beatings?" I see those crimson eyes land on my swollen face. "I have a proposition for you, Alpha Trey." "We have already agreed on terms." "Well, I'm adding one. And if you don't agree, you will not get my help. Instead, you will become my enemy. And we both know, you don't want that." "I take it that your new terms have something to do with her?" Alpha Trey mutters through clenched teeth. "You would be correct. Let me take her away to my pack and then you, Trey will have a deal." Me? Why would he want me? I was a nobody, no one special. "Deal." After a little more thinking, Alpha Trey sticks out his hand for Alpha Dane to shake. He doesn't take it, instead his crimson eyes shift from me to my brother. "I will have paperwork drawn up and will return tomorrow." He reaches a hand out and cups my face, "Ensure you have everything packed." He drags his thumb across my bottom lip and strides to the opposite end of the hallway and straight to the front door. He knew exactly where the front door was, so what was he up to? He pauses at the door. "If I find out you has laid a hand on her. The contract will be the last thing you need to worry about." He struts out, slamming the door behind him. After Dane leaves, my brother grabs me by the collar. "You think you're going to have a good life if you follow Alpha Dane out of here? Don't be naive!" He continues in a vicious voice. "He's the coldest man in the world, he's killed nine of his mates, I'm waiting to see what happens to you!"	LEARN_MORE	https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&	New world publications	https://www.facebook.com/100090352943774/	3,809	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	wwwedb.com	VIDEO		https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/474368917_1269180051026250_5008672816931292201_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=lGDUJS0B97EQ7kNvgHVCzYY&_nc_oc=Adgvm2Qll3a2FECCPC5M5Lq40Wf8yIB8gSYZCJyH5fVesKHFc4eBHur2F-_SPd1Gzna7_lVuiV5W8YEQv7_nchMB&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AfeOQX5tZOU5vqwZVKY87KW&oh=00_AYC-d4aP4nvSFLuHFvPW9UTHfEgg1mf7u5XQIvPWq9sYjQ&oe=67CBD3C5	PERSON_PROFILE	New world publications	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,756,864	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2756928}'	Yes	2025-03-03 12:18	active	2772	🔥🔥Click to read the next chapter for free👉	One day, Wendy discovered that her husband Stanley was having an affair. He had been seeing a college student. It was Stanley's birthday. Wendy had prepared a table full of dishes early in the day. Just then, she heard a notification from his phone. Ding! He had left his phone at home. Wendy switched it on and saw a text from the college student. [I hurt myself when I was carrying the cake. It hurts so much.] Attached was a selfie—not of the sender's face, but of her legs. The girl in the photo wore pulled-up white socks, black leather shoes, and a blue-and-white skirt that had been pushed up to reveal her long, slender legs. Her pale knees were visibly reddened from the bump. The youthful, vibrant image of her body paired with coquettish words exuded a forbidden allure. People often say successful businessmen like Stanley favored this type of woman when choosing mistresses. Wendy clutched the phone tightly, her fingers turning white from the pressure. Ding! Another text came from the college student. "Mr. Hawk, see you at Cloud Hotel tonight. I want to celebrate your birthday!" So, his mistress wanted to celebrate his birthday tonight. Wendy grabbed her bag and headed straight to Cloud Hotel. She had to see for herself who this college student was. She soon arrived at the hotel, ready to go in. Just then, she saw her parents, Harry and Lilian at the entrance. Surprised, she walked up to them. "Dad, Mom, what are you doing here?" she asked. Harry and Lilian, caught off guard, exchanged a glance before responding to her hesitantly. "Wendy, your sister's back in the country. We brought her here," Harry said. 'Jessica?' Through the hotel's gleaming floor-to-ceiling windows, Wendy spotted her sister Jessica and immediately froze. Jessica was wearing the exact same blue-and-white skirt from the photo in Stanley's phone. The college student was none other than her own sister! Jessica had always been a beauty, known as the 'Red Rose of Hovendale,' and she was famed for having the most beautiful legs in town. Many men had been captivated by her charm. And now, her darling sister was using those legs to seduce her husband. Wendy found it laughable. She turned to her parents and said coldly, "So I'm the last to know?" Harry gave a sheepish smile. "Wendy, Mr. Hawk doesn't even like you." "Exactly, Wendy," Lilian chimed in. "Do you know how many women in Hovendale are dying to be with Mr. Hawk? Better to let Jessica have him than some other woman." Wendy clenched her fists. "Dad, Mom, I'm your daughter too!" Turning on her heel, she started walking away. Lilian called after her. "Wendy, tell me—has Mr. Hawk ever touched you?" Wendy stopped in her tracks. Harry's voice turned sharp. "Wendy, don't act like we owe you anything. Three years ago, when Stanley and Jessica were Hovendale's golden couple, everyone thought they'd get married. But then Stanley got into a car accident and went into a coma. That's the only reason we had you marry him instead." Lilian gave Wendy a disdainful once-over. "Look at yourself, Wendy. In the past three years, you've turned into a housewife who revolves around her husband. Meanwhile, Jessica became the principal ballerina of her company. She's a white swan, and you're just an ugly duckling. What do you have to compete with Jessica? Just give Mr. Hawk back to her already." Every word felt like a knife into Wendy's chest. Tears filling her eyes, she walked away. - Back at the villa, night had fallen. Wendy had sent the maid Mathilda home, so the house was empty, dark, and cold. She sat alone at the dining table. The once-warm meal had gone cold. The cake she had carefully prepared had 'Happy Birthday, Honey' written on it in frosting. It was glaringly ironic, just like her existence—a complete joke. Stanley and Jessica had been the golden couple of Hovendale, with Jessica as Stanley's cherished 'Red Rose.' But three years ago, a sudden car accident left Stanley in a vegetative state and Jessica disappeared entirely. That was when the Crone family brought Wendy back from the countryside and forced her to marry Stanley in Jessica's place. Wendy had agreed willingly when she found out it was Stanley—the man she had loved all along. For three years, Stanley remained in a coma. During those years, Wendy devoted herself to caring for him. She stayed by his side, gave up socializing, and focused solely on nursing him back to health, living as a dutiful housewife. In the end, her efforts paid off. Stanley woke up. Wendy lit the candles on the cake. The flickering glow illuminated her reflection in the nearby mirror—a plain housewife in a dull black-and-white dress, devoid of charm or excitement. Meanwhile, Jessica, now a successful ballerina, was young, vibrant, and beautiful. Wendy was an ugly duckling, while Jessica was the white swan. After waking up, Stanley abandoned the ugly duckling and returned to the white swan's side. Wendy let out a bitter laugh. This wasn't love; it was self-delusion. Stanley had never loved her, but she had loved him. The first one to fall in love always lost. Today, Stanley had made her lose completely. Tears welled in her eyes as she blew out the candles, plunging the villa back into darkness. Just then, two bright headlights pierced through the night. Stanley's car sped up the driveway and came to a halt on the lawn. Wendy's eyelashes quivered. He had come back. She had thought he wouldn't return tonight. The villa door opened and Stanley stepped in, carrying the cool air of the night with him. Stanley Hawk, the heir of the Hawk family, had been a business prodigy from a very young age. By 16, he had earned dual master's degrees from Harfield. Later, he took Hawk Group public in Hawthorne, making a name for himself internationally before returning home to lead the company as Hovendale's wealthiest man. Stanley walked in. "Why didn't you turn on the lights?" he asked in a deep, magnetic voice as he turned on the wall lamp with a click. The sudden brightness made Wendy blink. When her eyes adjusted, she looked at him. Dressed in a custom-tailored black suit, Stanley exuded a cold, aristocratic elegance that left countless socialites dreaming of him at night. "It's your birthday," she said. Stanley's handsome face remained indifferent as his gaze swept lazily over the dining table. "Don't waste your time on this again. I don't celebrate such occasions." Wendy smiled faintly. "Is it that you don't celebrate, or you just don't want to celebrate with me?" Stanley glanced at her, his gaze impassive. "Think what you like." With that, he turned around and started up the stairs. He had always been like this—distant and cold. No matter what she did, she could never warm his heart. Wendy stood and called after him. "It's your birthday today. I have a gift for you." However, Stanley didn't stop or turn around. "I don't need it." Wendy let out a soft chuckle and said, "Stanley, let's get a divorce." Stanley froze mid-step, one foot already on the staircase. He turned around, his deep black eyes locking onto her. Chapter 2 Wendy was also staring at him. Her tone was light but firm as she repeated, "Let's get a divorce, Stanley. Do you like your birthday gift?" Stanley didn't bat an eyelid. "You're asking for a divorce just because I didn't celebrate my birthday with you?" "Jessica has returned, hasn't she?" At the mention of Jessica, Stanley's thin lips curled into a faint, mocking smile. He took a step forward, closing the distance between them. "Are you bothered by Jessica?" Stanley, known as the youngest business prodigy alive, exuded an aura of power, wealth, and status. As he approached, Wendy instinctively stepped back, her slender back pressing against the cold wall. Her vision went dark as Stanley leaned in. He propped one hand against the wall beside her, trapping her between his firm chest and the wall. Looking down at her with his deep, striking eyes, Stanley sneered. "Everyone in Hovendale knows Jessica was the one I intended to marry. Weren't you aware when you schemed to replace her and became Mrs. Hawk? You didn’t mind then, so why act all self-righteous now?" Wendy's face turned pale. Yes, Stanley had wanted to marry Jessica. If not for the accident that left him in a coma, how could Wendy have married him? She would never forget the day he woke up. The disappointment and coldness in his eyes when he saw her was devastating. Since then, they had lived in separate rooms. He never touched her. He loved Jessica. Wendy had always known this, but... She gazed deeply at Stanley's face, the grown man overlapping in her mind with the young boy from years ago. 'Stanley, do you really not remember me?' It turned out she had been standing in place all along, waiting for someone that no longer existed. It was enough. These three years were just her one-sided effort to cherish him. Suppressing the ache in her heart, Wendy said softly, "Stanley, let's end this loveless marriage." Stanley's brows arched sharply, and his deep, magnetic voice could be heard. "Loveless?" He raised his hand, gripping her delicate chin, his thumb brushing against her crimson lips in a provocative motion. "Is that why? Are you asking for a divorce because of that? Do you want it that badly?" Wendy's delicate face flushed red like a ripe berry, vibrant and tempting. That wasn’t what she meant! Yet his thumb lingered on her lips, pressing and toying with them. She hadn't expected such a composed and distinguished man to have such a teasing, roguish side. Stanley was seeing Wendy up close for the first time. She usually dressed in monotonous black-and-white outfits, paired with oversized black-framed glasses, presenting herself like an old maid. But up close, he realized her face was barely the size of his palm, and her delicate features exuded a quiet elegance beneath those glasses. Her dark pupils were stunningly beautiful. Her lips were soft, their plush surface springing back with a subtle elasticity wherever his thumb pressed. It stirred an unbidden thought. Stanley’s gaze darkened. "I didn’t expect you to be so eager. You’re that desperate for a man, aren’t you?" Slap! Wendy raised her hand and slapped him across the face. Stanley’s handsome face tilted to the side from the impact. Wendy’s fingers trembled with anger. She realized that loving someone too humbly only led to her dignity being trampled on. He had actually humiliated her. Furious, she declared, "I know you’ve never stopped thinking about Jessica. Fine, I’ll fulfill your wishes and return Mrs. Hawk’s title to her!" Stanley’s face instantly darkened, frosty and sullen. A man of his stature had never been slapped before—never! His sharp gaze locked onto her. "Wendy, you married me when it was convenient for you, and now you want a divorce just because you feel like it. What do you take me for?" Wendy let out a soft chuckle. "A plaything." "What?" Stanley’s expression stiffened. Wendy forced herself to endure the pain in her heart and said what she knew would hurt him. "You’re just a toy I took from Jessica. I’m done playing, so I’m tossing you aside." Stanley’s expression turned grim, his mood darkening to the point where it could drip with venom. "Fine! Wendy, you’re something else. Let’s divorce, but don’t come crying back to me, begging for reconciliation!" He stormed upstairs, slamming the study door shut with a deafening bang. Wendy felt as though all the strength had been drained from her body. Slowly, she slid down the wall, crouching on the carpet. Hugging her knees, she whispered to herself, 'Stanley, I won’t love you anymore.' - The next morning, Mathilda entered the study. Stanley was seated at his desk, reviewing documents. He was a notorious workaholic. "Sir," Mathilda greeted Stanley cautiously. Stanley didn’t even look up. His icy aura hinted at his foul mood. It felt cold being around him. Mathilda carefully placed a cup of coffee by his hand. "Sir, this coffee was made by Mrs. Hawk." Stanley’s pen paused mid-air, his cold expression softening slightly. Was she trying to make amends? Truth be told, Wendy was an excellent wife. She cooked to his preferences, hand-washed his clothes, and meticulously managed his daily needs. Stanley picked up the coffee, taking a sip. It was her coffee—the taste he liked. But he was still angry. She had slapped him last night, and he wasn’t about to let that go easily. A single cup of coffee wouldn’t suffice as an apology. "Did she admit she was wrong?" Stanley asked. Mathilda glanced at him hesitantly. "Sir, Mrs. Hawk has left." Stanley froze, looking up at Mathilda. She handed him a piece of paper. "Sir, Mrs. Hawk left this with her suitcase and asked me to give this to you before she left." Stanley unfolded the paper. The words 'Divorce Agreement' caught his eye. His expression darkened. He thought she was trying to reconcile. Mathilda added cautiously, "Sir, Mrs. Hawk asked you to finish the coffee before signing the divorce papers." Stanley glared at the coffee. "Throw it out! All of it!" 'Sir, you seemed to like the coffee just fine a moment ago. Why don't you anymore?' Mathilda thought to herself. Without saying another word, she quickly left with the coffee. Stanley’s face was a thunderstorm, his mood in turmoil. He skimmed through the divorce agreement. She wasn’t asking for a penny—she intended to leave with nothing. Stanley scoffed coldly. It was bold of her to act like she didn’t need his money. How would a country girl like her survive without it? It was then that his gaze landed on the reason for divorce, handwritten by Wendy herself. "Due to my husband’s physical dysfunction, he cannot fulfill his marital obligations." Stanley froze, his handsome face turning completely dark. 'That woman!' He grabbed his phone and dialed Wendy’s number. The line connected, and Wendy’s voice came through clearly. "Hello?" Chapter 3 Stanley's thin lips curved into a frosty arc. "Wendy, get back here immediately!" Wendy chuckled. "You expect me to come back just because you said so? We're divorced, Stanley. I'm not going to continue indulging you!" Stanley clenched his jaw. "I'll give you a chance to rewrite the reason for divorce!" Wendy's tone grew more playful. "Did I write anything wrong? Stanley, it's been six months since you woke up, hasn't it? Yet, in these six months, you haven't even held my hand. You were in a coma for three years, and although you're physically healthy now, I have legitimate reasons to believe you've developed functional problems. You're not potent anymore! Better hurry to find an experienced naturopath. As our parting gift, I wish you an early recovery of your manhood!" Stanley was rendered speechless. The veins on his forehead were visibly twitching. This woman was out of control. "Wendy, I'll make you regret this! You'll know what I'm capable of sooner or later!" "Sorry, but you'll never get the chance!" "Wendy!" The call abruptly ended with two cold beeps. He hadn't even had time to explode in anger before hearing the disconnected tone. 'Wendy…!' - Wendy had already arrived at her best friend Cecelia Sunder's apartment. After she hung up the phone, Cecelia burst out laughing and gave her a big thumbs-up. "Wendy, that was amazing! Stanley must be so furious, he's spitting blood right now." Wendy reflected that she had been too humble in the past, which had allowed him to act superior to her for so long. 'Love yourself first. A woman must always prioritize self-love.' "Three years ago, when Jessica learned Stanley went into a coma after the car accident, she immediately ran away. Now that he's awake, he's crawling back to her? What a joke! You're better off without a man like that," Cecelia commented. Wendy unwrapped a candy and popped it into her mouth. The sweetness seemed to mask the bitterness in her heart. "That's how you tell if you're loved or not, Cecelia." Those who were loved were fearless. Those who weren't lived in constant insecurity. Cecelia noticed Wendy had already gone through a pile of candies. She pulled Wendy to her feet. "Wendy, cheer up! When you give up one tree, you'll discover an entire forest waiting for you. Tonight, I'm booking eight male hosts to celebrate you becoming single!" Wendy covered her forehead and laughed. Cecelia suddenly snatched Wendy's black-rimmed glasses off her face, tossing them into the trash. Wendy tried to retrieve them. "My glasses—" Cecelia stopped her. "Wendy, you've been in academic research for too long, and you've gotten used to wearing these glasses. But you should take a page out of Jessica's book and doll yourself up." Wendy thought about how her parents had always told her she was an ugly duckling while Jessica was a swan. It wasn't just her parents—Stanley must have thought the same. In his eyes, she was just an ugly duckling too. Cecelia dragged Wendy to the door. "Come on, we're going shopping! Hair, nails, clothes—everything! I want Stanley and everyone else to see how stunning you can be!" As they walked out, Cecelia suddenly remembered something. "Oh, Wendy, are you really not taking any money from Stanley after the divorce?" "I have my own money," Wendy replied. "Letting Jessica spend Stanley's money instead? Jessica says thank you!" Cecelia teased. Wendy didn't know what to say to that. "What about the card Stanley gave you?" Cecelia pressed. Stanley was always generous and had given Wendy a premium black card. However, she had never used it. Wendy pulled the black card out of her purse and winked playfully. "Today, I'll splurge—and let Stanley foot the bill." - That evening, at 1996 Bar. 1996 Bar was Hovendale's playground for the rich, where young heirs and the city's elites spent extravagantly. The music was never-ending, and the dance floor was wild. In a luxurious and dimly lit booth, Stanley sat in the center of a leather sofa. Tonight, he had on a black shirt paired with black trousers. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing his toned forearms and a steel watch worth millions. His aristocratic, striking features made him the center of attention, drawing glances from countless women in the bar. Beside him was his close friend, Benny Gondale—the heir of the Gondale family—and several other young elites. Benny laughed. "Stanley, are you serious? Wendy wants a divorce?" The others laughed along. "Everyone knows Wendy loves Stanley to the bone. When he was in a coma, she insisted on marrying him. There's no way she'd actually go through with a divorce." "Let's bet on it. How long do you think Wendy can hold out before begging Stanley to take her back?" Benny smirked. "I bet she can't even make it through tonight. She's probably already sent Stanley a message." Stanley's chiseled features remained cold and sharp, his mood clearly sour. He pulled out his phone and opened WhatsApp to check their chat history. The last message from Wendy was from last night. She had sent a photo of the broth with the caption, [Honey, even though your bone density is back to normal, you should still drink this broth regularly. Don't come home too late!] As he scrolled up, he saw countless similar messages—all from Wendy. She messaged him every day. He had never replied. Not once. Today, the chat was silent. Stanley felt a vague sense of irritation. Ding! A notification popped up. "See? I told you—Wendy messaged you!" Benny immediately exclaimed. Ding, ding, ding! Several more notifications followed in quick succession. The group burst out laughing. "We knew it—Wendy couldn't hold out! But we didn't expect her to cave so fast." "Stanley, open them. Let's see how Wendy is begging you to reconcile," Benny urged. Stanley's sharp eyebrows lifted slightly. Did she really send a message? If she regretted it so quickly, why did she make such a fuss this morning? He tapped on the notifications, only to freeze. Benny leaned over and read aloud, "Dear VVIP customer, your card ending in 0975 has been charged 800 at Dazzling Nail Salon." The group collectively frowned. Stanley scrolled further. 2,000. 86,000. 240,000. There were no messages about reconciliations, only transaction notifications. The group fell silent, feeling like Wendy had slapped them all hard in the face. Stanley's expression darkened and he slammed his phone onto the table. He didn't care how much money Wendy spent. What bothered him was that she had gone on a shopping spree right after their divorce. This woman was something else! The once submissive Wendy, who had clung to him for three years, now seemed to have grown fangs. "Stanley, what's Wendy up to? She's gone to do her nails and hair, and buy clothes. Is she trying to imitate Jessica?" Benny commented. "Jessica is Hovendale's Red Rose. Wendy's just a country bumpkin. No matter how hard she tries, she'll only be a pale imitation." "A swan is a swan. An ugly duckling will always be an ugly duckling." Everyone laughed at Wendy. Suddenly, there was a commotion in the bar. All eyes turned toward the entrance. Someone gasped, "Look—an angel just walked in!" Chapter 4 Wendy arrived. After finishing their shopping spree at the mall, Cecelia brought Wendy directly to 1996 Bar. Tonight, she was determined to throw a celebration party for Wendy. Wendy hadn't expected to run into Stanley and his friends here, but she could hear their mocking remarks. She recognized Benny and the others in the luxury booth. They were part of Stanley's circle, and Benny was Stanley's close friend. Back when Stanley had a whirlwind romance with Jessica, they were all fans of Jessica, with Benny even regarding her as Stanley's future wife. Over the past three years, Wendy had never truly integrated into their group. None of them ever accepted her. The labels they plastered on her were always the same: desperate substitute bride, ugly duckling, country bumpkin, and the like. When a man didn't love you, his friends wouldn't respect you either. Cecelia, already fuming, rolled up her sleeves, ready to confront them. "I'm going to tear their mouths apart!" Wendy quickly held her back. "Cecelia, forget it! We're divorced now—there's no need to stoop to their level." Seeing Wendy's calm and indifferent demeanor, Cecelia reluctantly held back her temper. Then, as more and more people began to notice Wendy and exclaimed, calling her an angel, Cecelia's mood improved. "Wendy, let's go. Time to party." Cecelia dragged Wendy to another luxury booth and waved her hand grandly. "Bring all the male hosts from 1996 Bar over here!" Meanwhile, back at Stanley's booth, Benny and the others continued to mock Wendy. That was when they felt an icy and sharp gaze fall upon them. Looking up, they saw Stanley lazily lifting his cold gaze to glare at them. His expression was chilling, displeased, and full of warning. The men stopped laughing, and they immediately shut up, not daring to speak ill of Wendy again. Benny glanced at Stanley. Although Stanley had never paid much attention to Wendy, she had, after all, cared for him diligently for three years. It seemed Stanley still held some regard for that. At that moment, the commotion around them grew louder. "Wow, what a stunning angel!" 'An angel? Where?' Following the direction of the crowd's gaze, Benny looked ahead and was instantly dumbfounded. "Holy crap, she really is an angel." The other rich young men were equally astonished, their eyes glued to her. "When did such a stunning angel begin existing in Hovendale? How have we never seen her before?" Benny nudged Stanley. "Stanley, look! It's an angel." Stanley, who had no shortage of women around him, wasn't interested. He had seen all kinds of women—slim, curvy, and everything in between. He had no intention of looking, but Wendy's booth happened to be right across from theirs. When Stanley glanced over, he saw Wendy. Without her black-framed glasses and her usual dull, conservative attire, she revealed a delicate, fair face, her naturally exquisite bone structure, and ethereal beauty shining through. Her long, glossy black hair flowed gracefully over her shoulders, making her look like a true angel. Stanley paused, staring at her for two full seconds. Benny was excited. "Stanley, what do you think of the angel?" Another rich young man chimed in, "Mr. Hawk probably doesn't think much of her. Mr. Hawk likes delicate beauties like Jessica, not cold, aloof angels." "But look at her legs! Her legs are just as stunning as Jessica's." Wendy was wearing a short dress, shedding her usual conservative style and showing her legs for the first time. Her legs were perfectly proportioned—slender yet shapely. Those were legs that could make any man's imagination run wild. She looked just as good as Jessica. Stanley stared at the 'angel' for a moment and couldn't shake the feeling that she looked familiar, as if he'd seen her somewhere before. Just then, a line of male hosts walked in, all tall and handsome, forming a row in front of Wendy. Cecelia grinned. "Wendy, make your pick of eight." Deciding to indulge herself to celebrate her escape from the misery of marriage, Wendy smiled and pointed. "You, you, you... All of you stay." Benny counted aloud. "One, two, three... Eight! She actually picked eight male hosts at once!" The other rich young men laughed. "Why waste money? If the angel just asked, we'd serve her for free." Everyone chuckled. Ding! Stanley's phone buzzed again with a notification. Picking it up, he glanced at it to see what Wendy had spent on this time. [Dear VVIP user, your card ending in 0975 has been charged 500,000 at 1996 Bar for eight male hosts.] Stanley froze, staring at the words before raising his eyes toward the so-called angel across the room. If that wasn't Wendy, who else could it be? Stanley was speechless. Eight male hosts surrounded Wendy, pouring drinks into her glass. "Let's play a drinking game." Cecelia clapped happily. "Yes, let's play!" In the first round, Wendy lost. One of the male hosts handed her a drink. "Please drink some." Wendy took a sip, but the other male hosts protested. "Why drink his and not ours? We want to serve you too." Surrounded by all the attention, Wendy found it impossible to keep up, overwhelmed by the 'sweet burden' of their pampering. Stanley's eyes narrowed, his handsome features tensing into a grim expression. Without a word, he stood up and strode out. Benny was taken aback. "Stanley? Where are you going?" Wendy was about to take another drink when a large, strong hand reached over, grabbed her slender wrist, and pulled her up like she was a rag doll. Startled, she looked up to see Stanley's handsome face suddenly looming over her. She froze for a second, then quickly tried to break free. "Stanley, let go of me!" His face darkened and he dragged her away without a word. Cecelia stood up. "Stanley, what are you doing? Let Wendy go!" Benny and the others were completely stunned. They stared, dumbfounded, as if they had just misheard something. "Wendy?" "That angel is Wendy?" "Is this the same ugly duckling Wendy we know?" "She's actually stunning!" As they watched Stanley drag Wendy away, her cold, ethereal beauty still lingering in their vision, Benny muttered, "Wendy, who no longer chases after Stanley, just turned into a full-blown angel!" - Stanley's grip was firm and unrelenting, like an iron shackle. No matter how much Wendy struggled, she couldn't break free. His strides were long, forcing Wendy to stumble as she tried to keep up. "Stanley, let go of me!" Finally, Stanley stopped and flung her backward. Wendy's slender frame collided against the cold wall behind her. Before she could regain her balance, Stanley's tall figure loomed over her, pressing her against the wall. His eyes burned with fury. "Wendy, do you think I'm dead, playing around like this?" Chapter 5 Wendy furrowed her brows. "What did I do?" Stanley clenched his jaw. "Who told you to dress like this?" 'What? Like this?' she wondered. "What do you mean, Stanley?!" Stanley glanced at her ultra-short skirt. "Your legs are almost exposed. Do you really want people to see your legs like this?" Wendy's skirt was a bit short, but it was Cecelia's choice. Cecelia's exact words were, "My dearest Wendy doesn't show her legs, but look at how Jessica flaunts hers. Tonight, let everyone see who has the best legs in Hovendale." Wendy raised her finely arched eyebrows. "Looks like Mr. Hawk noticed my legs." Stanley paused. Wendy leaned back against the wall, appearing languid and graceful. She slowly lifted her right leg, her crystal-high heel brushing against his ankle. Stanley had on black trousers, showcasing his long, muscular legs, exuding an aura of coldness and restraint. Wendy's pale foot gently grazed up his ankle, moving along his calf. It was an act of seduction and defiance. Stanley shot her a cold glance. "What are you doing?" Wendy curved her lips into a smile. "Mr. Hawk, which do you prefer? My legs, or Jessica's?" Stanley stared at her small, delicate face that glowed with celestial radiance, yet she seduced him with a dazzling smile. Last night, he had glimpsed the beauty hidden beneath her dark-rimmed glasses, but he hadn't expected her to be this beautiful. He felt like he had seen this face somewhere before. Wendy's clear eyes sparkled. "Mr. Hawk, has Jessica ever wrapped her legs around your waist?" Stanley's breath hitched. His handsome face moved closer to hers, his gaze softening with a tenderness Wendy had never seen before. "Wendy, are you really this shameless? All you think about is men. You even hired eight male hosts to satisfy your needs!" He didn't answer Wendy's question about Jessica. That was perhaps the best kind of protection a man could offer a woman. Their love had been so passionate, full of youthful excitement. Jessica's legs had definitely wrapped around his waist, or else why would he still remember her so fondly? Jessica was lucky to have a man like Stanley so deeply attached to her. He would never describe her as 'shameless.' Though Wendy wore a smile, her eyes remained clear and distant. "Well, Mr. Hawk, your body isn't up to par and can't satisfy me, so of course I have to go out and find men. Let's get divorced quickly. If the first man doesn't work, the next will be better." Did she actually say he was inadequate, and the next man would be better? This woman was truly asking for it. Stanley reached out, grabbing Wendy's chin. "Are you trying to provoke me? Do you really want to know if I'm up to the task?" 'What?' Wendy froze. Stanley moved closer to her lips, teasing, but with words that carried no warmth. "Dream on. I won't touch you. The one I love is Jessica." He loved Jessica. He didn't even need to say it—Wendy already knew. It stung her heart, the sharp pain spreading through her, though the ache wasn't obvious. At that moment, a sweet voice rang out. "Stanley." Wendy looked up—Jessica had arrived. Jessica, the Red Rose of Hovendale, was a beautiful woman with rosy lips and perfect teeth, her body delicate from years of ballet training. Stanley immediately released Wendy and walked toward Jessica. He lowered his gaze to meet hers, his eyes filled with a tenderness Wendy had never seen. "You're here." Jessica nodded, then turned to Wendy. "Who's this?" Jessica didn't recognize Wendy at first. However, Wendy would never forget Jessica. Wendy and Jessica were stepsisters, but from completely different parents. Harry, Wendy's father, wasn't her biological father, but her stepfather. Many years ago, Wendy had a happy family with her real father, Jerry, and her mother Lilian, who were always respectful toward each other. Her father loved her dearly, always lifting her high. "Wendy, please be happy always." Then, one day, her father suddenly passed away. Harry, Jerry's brother, moved in with his daughter Jessica. Wendy's mother became Jessica's mother as well. Her mother remarried her second uncle. Her mother loved Jessica and stopped loving her. When Jessica got an A in a test and Wendy got an A+, her mother hit her hand with a ruler. "Can't you give your sister a break? Why must you outdo her?" When Jessica fell ill and had to undergo chemotherapy, her head had to be shaved. She cried, saying she had become ugly. In response, Wendy's mother immediately shaved Wendy's head. "You should look the same as your sister so she won't cry." Every night, her mother, Jessica, and Harry would sleep together, laughing and playing. Wendy, holding the doll her late father had bought her, would stand outside their door, crying alone. "Mommy, I'm scared…" Eventually, Jessica called her mother "Mom," which made her mother incredibly happy. But then Jessica said, "A mother can only have one daughter." One rainy day, Wendy's mother took her to the countryside and left her there. Wendy chased after the car, crying uncontrollably. "Mommy, don't leave me! I'll be good, I'll always put my sister before me… Mommy, hold me… I'm scared…!" Wendy fell heavily into the muddy water while holding her doll, watching helplessly as her mother's car disappeared from view. Wendy would never forget Jessica. At that moment, Benny rushed over. "Jessica, this is…your sister, Wendy!" Jessica was stunned. "You're Wendy?" Wendy knew that Jessica had always looked down on her. When they were young, Jessica had always been the one to beat her. As Jessica grew up, she excelled in everything. Later, she even dated Stanley, the heir of the Hawk family. She grew up in a world of admiration and love, full of pride and arrogance. Benny, once again, was stunned by Wendy's ethereal beauty. He whispered, "I didn't expect Wendy to be this beautiful." Jessica's memory of their childhood was fuzzy because she had never truly paid attention to her unloved sister. But wasn't her sister the ugly duckling from the countryside? Jessica approached Wendy, glancing at her, her brow raised in haughty pride. "Wendy, I didn't expect you to start dressing like me." Wendy remained silent. 'Well, if you say so,' she thought. Wendy straightened her slender back, smiling but saying nothing. The light from the corridor illuminated her delicate, otherworldly face, making it glow like a precious pearl. She was no longer the Wendy from before. Jessica sneered. "Wendy, I heard you're getting a divorce with Stanley. Can't you live without a man? Coming to a bar to hire male hosts to fulfill your desires? If I were you, I'd get a job." As she spoke, Jessica glanced at Stanley. In a tone that seemed almost benevolent, she added, "Stanley, Wendy took care of you for so long. Even if she was your maid, you should at least find her a job." Stanley's gaze landed on Wendy's face. "Jessica, nowadays, you need a degree to get a job. What's Wendy's education?" Benny said. Jessica seemed to recall something amusing. She lifted her chin and laughed. "Wendy dropped out of school at 16." Chapter 6 Benny was stunned. '16 years old?' The reason people in Benny's social circle held Jessica in such high regard wasn't just because of her beauty. It was also because of her exceptional academic achievements. She was a high achiever at a prestigious university, someone unmatched even among Hovendale's socialites. She deserved to be with Stanley. For any woman, beauty alone was a dead end. Beauty combined with education was the real trump card. The higher the social class, the more they valued a woman's education. Benny's initial admiration for Wendy vanished instantly. His tone became dismissive. "Wendy, did you seriously drop out of school at 16?" Wendy glanced at Jessica, who stood there with pride, and smiled faintly. "Yes, I did stop studying at 16." Benny sneered, "Well, what a coincidence. Stanley also stopped studying at 16. But he's a true prodigy, earning dual master's degrees from Harfield at that age and making history. And you? Dropped out of high school with nothing to your name!" His mockery echoed loudly. Jessica stood tall, looking down at Wendy with disdain. Stanley, with his tall and imposing figure, stood silently under the corridor lights. His handsome face remained unreadable as his gaze fell on Wendy. For the past three years, Wendy had been just a housewife, revolving around him. It was no surprise she lacked education. Wendy, however, didn't seem embarrassed or flustered. Instead, her clear, luminous eyes met his gaze. Then she smiled gracefully and said, "Yes, what a coincidence." 'Indeed, what a coincidence.' For reasons he couldn't explain, Stanley felt a ripple in his heart. He suddenly noticed how beautiful Wendy's eyes were—brimming with vitality and seemingly able to speak volumes without words. "Wendy!" At that moment, Cecelia came rushing over. She glared at Jessica. "Jessica, are you bullying Wendy again?" Jessica responded proudly, "We weren't bullying Wendy. We were just discussing helping her find a job." Cecelia was stunned. "You're helping Wendy find a job?" Jessica continued her magnanimous act. "Yes. Even though Wendy lacks education and qualifications, we'll try our best to help her secure something decent." Cecelia laughed in disbelief. "Do you even know who Wendy is? Wendy is—" Wendy quickly grabbed Cecelia's arm to stop her. "Cecelia, let's go." Cecelia held back her words, but before leaving, she cast a mocking glance at Jessica. "You'll regret this someday!" With that, she led Wendy away. Benny fumed, "What's wrong with Wendy? She dropped out of school at 16 and still acts so arrogant! If I were her, I'd be too ashamed to show my face." Jessica wasn't upset. She had never truly looked at Wendy as a rival—Wendy wasn't even qualified to compete with her. Getting angry at Wendy would only lower her status. She smiled loftily at Benny. "Benny, let it go. Ignorance is bliss." Benny turned to Stanley. "Stanley, you should hurry up and divorce Wendy. She's not worthy of you." Stanley's expression remained calm as his gaze briefly lingered on Wendy's departing figure. "Let's go," he said to Jessica. Jessica nodded. "Alright." And so, Jessica and Benny left with Stanley. - Later, outside the bar... "Mr. Hawk?" a voice called out. Stanley looked up to see a familiar face. It was Dave Suarez, the president of Harfield University. Stanley approached him. "Mr. Suarez, what brings you to Hovendale?" Jessica, always respectful of such prestigious figures, greeted him as well. Although she had always excelled academically, she hadn't been able to secure a spot at a top-tier institution like Harfield. Dave smiled. "Mr. Hawk, I'm here for a seminar. What a coincidence—you have a junior alumna here in Hovendale too." Stanley paused. "A junior alumna?" Dave nodded. "Yes, Harfield has two legends. The first is you, Stanley. The second is your junior alumna. Like you, she earned dual master's degrees at 16. She's a high-IQ prodigy. Unfortunately, you were a few years apart, so you've never met her." Benny's curiosity was piqued. "Wow! Stanley's junior is that amazing? Who's better between the two of them?" Dave smiled and looked at Stanley. "They're evenly matched." Stanley raised an eyebrow. He had never encountered a woman who could be his equal. Jessica, who had been calm earlier, suddenly felt an overwhelming surge of jealousy. This mysterious prodigious junior made her feel threatened. "Who is this junior?" she wondered aloud. Dave pulled out his phone. "Mr. Hawk, I've sent you her WhatsApp contact. She's also in Hovendale. You should connect with her and look out for her since you're her senior." Stanley nodded. "Alright." After Dave left, Benny urged, "Stanley, add her WhatsApp now! I want to see what she looks like." Stanley switched on his phone and found the contact. It had a profile named simply 'W,' with a plain white background. "What does the 'W' stand for?" Benny asked excitedly. Stanley didn't know either. He sent a friend request, adding the note, "Stanley." The request was pending approval. Benny was buzzing with excitement. "Stanley, once she adds you, introduce her to me! I'm in awe of her already." Jessica, sensing the shift in attention, grew visibly unhappy. At that moment, a car pulled up. Stanley's personal secretary, Zayn Cameron, had arrived. Jessica seized the opportunity to cut the conversation short. "Stanley, the car's here. Let's go." "Stanley, Jessica, see you later," Benny said. The car glided smoothly through the city streets, the quiet, opulent interior filled with an air of calmness. The dazzling city lights outside refracted against the polished windows, creating a cinematic interplay of shadows on Stanley's chiseled face—elegant and enigmatic. From the driver's seat, Zayn glanced back respectfully. "Sir, where to?" "To the office," Stanley answered curtly. Jessica observed him quietly, love evident in her gaze. She broke the silence with a question. "Stanley, what was that with Wendy earlier? You're not interested in her now that she's grown more beautiful, are you?" Stanley turned his sharp gaze toward her, his voice nonchalant yet teasing. "She's my wife. If something were to happen, wouldn't that be normal? Wasn't it you who handed her to me in the first place?" Jessica knew he still blamed her for leaving him behind to marry Wendy three years ago while he was in a state of coma. "Stanley, it wasn't like that. Wendy insisted on marrying you—I had no choice but to let her take my place…" Stanley's piercing gaze held hers. "Do you even believe that yourself?" Jessica faltered. Biting her lower lip, she feigned defiance. "Fine! Three years ago, I abandoned you—if you can't forgive me for that, then let's just break up! You can simply get rid of me if you don't want me anymore." She turned to Zayn and ordered, "Zayn, stop the car!" Jessica wanted to get out, but before she could leave, Stanley's long, elegant fingers reached out, grabbing her delicate wrist and yanking her firmly to his chest. Jessica's soft body collided with his solid frame, and she froze. Above her, Stanley's deep, exasperated voice softened into indulgence. "Jessica, you're only this bold because you know I'd spoil you rotten." Chapter 7 Jessica smiled, her heart filled with sweetness. She leaned into Stanley's embrace, then tilted her delicate, radiant face to look up at him. "I knew it—you can't bear to let me go. You would never leave me." Stanley, as Hovendale's wealthiest man, exuded an air of elegance and strength that could dictate the rise and fall of fortunes. He fulfilled every fantasy she had about what a man should be. But three years ago, when he had been in a car accident and declared a vegetative state, with doctors pronouncing he would never wake again, how could she waste the prime of her youth on a man like that? So, she had fled. Who could have predicted that Wendy, who married him in her place, would somehow help Stanley wake up within three years? Even now, Jessica didn't understand how Stanley recovered. Could Wendy's fortune be aligned perfectly with his? Doctors called it a medical miracle. So, Jessica returned. She knew Stanley loved her—he would never truly abandon her. Stanley looked at Jessica's radiant face. "If it weren't for what happened back then… Would I still spoil you like this?" At the mention of 'back then,' Jessica froze, guilt flashing through her eyes. She quickly changed the subject. "Have you slept with Wendy?" Stanley lowered his gaze. "Why would I sleep with her when I could sleep with you?" She knew he hadn't been with Wendy, but she asked the question anyway, baiting him into a flirtatious response. He played along, his words dripping with teasing ambiguity. Jessica loved this side of him—the allure of a mature man with a touch of mischief. His response made her cheeks flush. This cold and seemingly abstinent man only made her want to strip away his layers and uncover his deeper desires. Jessica turned, boldly straddling his lean waist. She draped her arms around his neck, bringing her lips close to his. Her breath was warm and seducing. "Do you want me?" Zayn, who had worked as Stanley's secretary for years, tactfully raised the partition between the driver's seat and the back of the car. Stanley looked at Jessica but said nothing. She was wearing a red dress. In her seated position, the hem had ridden up, exposing her long, flawless legs. Those famed 'best legs in Hovendale' were now sensuously wrapped around his tailored black trousers, creating an intimate and sultry scene. Jessica tightened her legs around his waist, pulling herself closer. "Say it. Do you want me?" If he said yes, she would give herself to him right here and now. Stanley, of course, understood her intent. But at that moment, an image of Wendy's legs from earlier in the evening at the bar flashed in his mind. Wendy's legs were perfectly proportioned, balanced in their slenderness and curves. She had asked him which legs he preferred—Jessica's or hers. At the time, Wendy had playfully raised her foot, the delicate crystal chain on her stiletto heels glinting as it dangled from her dainty ankle. She had teased him with her toes, brushing against his leg and asking if Jessica's legs had ever wrapped around his waist. Stanley slowly removed Jessica's hands from his neck. "I'm still married." Jessica frowned. "So?" "I don't intend to cheat while I'm still married," Stanley replied coolly. Jessica was momentarily stunned. The intimate atmosphere vanished. Stanley had put an end to it. Disappointed, Jessica slid off his lap. She had pride, too—she would only give herself to him if he wanted her. "When will you divorce Wendy?" she asked. Stanley's gaze shifted to the cityscape outside the window. In truth, it was indeed better that Wendy initiated the divorce—he was planning for it anyway. "Soon," Stanley said, his tone detached. Wendy and Cecelia returned to their apartment. Wendy lay on her soft bed, letting out a small sigh of relief. After tonight's indulgence, it was time to return to her normal life. She pulled out her phone and opened WhatsApp. Wendy had two accounts. For the past three years, she had been using the account named "Mrs. Hawk." Now, that account had been officially retired. She logged into her other WhatsApp account. As soon as she logged in, her notification chimed repeatedly. The group chat 'One Big Happy Family' was bustling with activity. Wendy opened it. [Whoa, whoa, whoa! Wendy's finally online!] Daryl exclaimed. [Welcome back, Wendy!] Ernest added. [Big hugs to Wendy!] Samuel chimed in. Her three seniors were tossing virtual confetti, enthusiastically celebrating her return. [Three years ago, Wendy was all starry-eyed and insisted on leaving the mountains to experience life with a man. So, how was it, Wendy? Was the man worth it?] Daryl asked. [Not worth it,] Wendy replied. [Looks like Wendy had her heart broken. Haha!] Ernest wrote. [So even Wendy can't conquer everything? Hahaha!] Samuel added. [All right, you two, stop teasing her. Let's just say these three years were her trial by fire in the mortal world. Sorry, this is just too funny—I need to laugh it out. Hahaha!] Daryl typed. Wendy was speechless. She was tempted to kick all three of them out of the group. With a swift move, she renamed the group chat from 'One Big Happy Family' to 'One Big Gossipy Family.' Just then, Samuel brought up a serious topic. [Wendy, it's time for you to come back. Our surgery schedule is packed. I've booked you a tricky heart operation. Report to the naturopathy center tomorrow.] Wendy replied with an 'OK' emoji. After exiting the chat, she suddenly noticed a friend request. She tapped it open and saw that it was from Stanley. Stanley was requesting to add her as a WhatsApp contact. The irony wasn't lost on her. For three years, she had used her 'Mrs. Hawk' account to message him daily. Yet, he had never replied. Now, on her other account, he was the one reaching out to her. 'Once upon a time, you didn't care for me. Now, you'll find I'm out of your reach.' Wendy's pale, delicate fingers hovered over the keyboard. After a moment of hesitation, she tapped decisively. - At Hawk Group… The Hawk Group building, a landmark of Hovendale, controlled the city's economic pulse. It towered into the clouds, its grandeur even more striking against the night sky. After dropping Jessica off at her home, Stanley arrived at his office. He sat in his black leather chair while he reviewed documents. The sharp nib of his pen scratched across the paper as he signed his name, 'Stanley,' with bold, confident strokes. Behind him, the gleaming floor-to-ceiling windows reflected the vibrant lights of the city—a dazzling backdrop that seemed to exist solely to complement this man. A crisp-sounding notification broke the silence. His phone buzzed with a WhatsApp alert. Stanley picked up his phone and opened the app. His brilliant junior had responded. Upon seeing the response, Stanley froze for a moment. Then, his thin lips curved into a smirk and he let out a soft chuckle. Chapter 8 Stanley's genius junior had directly rejected his friend request! At that moment, Zayn walked in with a cup of coffee. When he saw the screen on Stanley's phone, he was stunned. 'Did someone actually reject the CEO's friend request?' This was certainly something out of the ordinary. "Sir, your junior is…quite special," Zayn said. Stanley scoffed. 'Special indeed.' She was the first person to reject him. If she didn't want to add him, so be it. Stanley picked up the coffee and took a sip, only to frown. "Is the coffee not to your liking, sir? I'll make another cup," Zayn asked. Stanley suddenly remembered the coffee Wendy used to make—it was always just right for his taste. With an impassive expression, Stanley said, "Write an eight-figure check. That's my divorce settlement for Wendy." She said she wanted to leave with nothing, but he didn't believe it for a second. A girl from the countryside who had stopped schooling at sixteen—how would she make a living? She was just playing hard to get, hoping for more money. This eight-figure check was enough to buy out her three years. After that, they owed each other nothing. Zayn nodded. "Yes, sir." Just then, Zayn's phone rang. He answered and was thrilled. "Sir, great news! Dr. Ceylan has accepted our request and agreed to perform the heart surgery for Miss Jessica!" Dr. Ceylan was a legendary figure in the medical world, known for her extraordinary skills. Even top-tier billionaires had to wait in line to see her. However, three years ago, Dr. Ceylan had mysteriously disappeared, and no one knew where she went. Now, she was back. Jessica had suffered from a heart disease since childhood and had undergone treatments, but nothing worked. Now, Stanley had used his immense wealth to secure Dr. Ceylan's services for Jessica. The crease between Stanley's brows finally smoothed out, and he smiled. Jessica would be saved. - The next day, Wendy arrived at the naturopathy center. Suddenly, a group of black-clad bodyguards entered in an orderly formation, creating a path. Wendy and other bystanders were pushed aside. Two young women nearby were chatting. "What's going on?" "Don't you know? Hovendale's Red Rose, the prima ballerina Jessica, felt unwell while dancing today. Mr. Hawk brought her here to see a doctor." "With Mr. Hawk around, no wonder it's such a big fuss." Wendy's lashes trembled. She hadn't expected to encounter Stanley and Jessica at the naturopathy center today. "Look, there's Mr. Hawk and Jessica!" Wendy glanced up, and Stanley's tall, handsome figure came into view. He was dressed in a custom-tailored black suit, exuding an air of elegance and dominance. He carried Jessica in his arms. Doctors and nurses from the naturopathy center flocked around them, fawning over them like stars orbiting a moon. "Mr. Hawk, this way, please." Stanley strode forward. One of the young women gushed, "Wow, Mr. Hawk is so handsome! He's the epitome of a domineering CEO." "And Jessica's so beautiful, with her fair skin and graceful ballerina aura. They truly are the perfect couple!" "A dashing, noble CEO and a delicate, enchanting dancer—ahh, I'm dying over their fairy-tale love story!" Wendy and Stanley's marriage was a secret, known only to a select few. Most people were shipping Stanley and Jessica. Wendy watched Stanley disappear from her sight. Just now, he hadn't even noticed her; his eyes were only on Jessica. She was nothing more than a supporting character in their fairy tale. Reeling in her emotions, Wendy followed her appointment instructions and found ward Number 109. Soon, she saw Stanley, Jessica, Harry, and Lilian inside. Jessica was already sitting on the hospital bed, surrounded by Harry and Lilian on either side. Just like in their childhood, they pampered Jessica like a princess. "Jessica, this is great!" Harry said happily. "Mr. Hawk managed to secure Dr. Ceylan to treat you." Lilian was moved to tears. "Jessica, you've been through so much! But now, everything will be fine. Once Dr. Ceylan cures your heart, you'll be healthy and can marry Mr. Hawk as his bride." Jessica gave Stanley a sweet smile. Stanley, tall and imposing, stood by her side, gently patting her head. The scene of the four of them together was harmonious. Wendy froze at the door. She couldn't believe how small the world was—Samuel had assigned her the heart surgery case, and it turned out to be Jessica. The heartwarming scene inside made Wendy's eyes sting slightly. At that moment, Stanley seemed to sense something. He turned, and his deep, sharp gaze landed squarely on her. Wendy was caught off guard and met his gaze. Stanley's gaze narrowed as he immediately strode over to her. "Wendy, what are you doing here?" "I…" Wendy began. Stanley's voice turned icy. "Wendy, are you following me?" "I-I'm not," Wendy replied. Harry and Lilian noticed Wendy too. "Wendy, why are you here? Today, we invited the legendary Dr. Ceylan to treat your sister! How could you come here and cause trouble at a time like this?" Lilian yelled. Harry's expression darkened. "Wendy, you're so inconsiderate. Leave immediately!" Jessica said nothing. She sat on the bed, her gaze haughty and radiant as she glanced at Wendy. At that moment, Stanley's imposing figure leaned closer. He grabbed Wendy's slender arm. His voice was cold and dismissive. "Wendy, are you still playing hard to get? Have you not had enough of this? Now you're resorting to stalking? Stop wasting your time on me. Leave!" Chapter 9 No one welcomed her arrival—they were all trying to push her away. Wendy found it laughable. Her cold, sharp eyes swept across Lilian, Jessica, and Harry's faces before she yanked her arm out of Stanley's grip. A faint smile tugged at her lips as she said, "Fine, I'll leave." 'Remember this—it was you who told me to go!' With that, Wendy turned and walked away. Soon after, she came back. Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, she asked, "Mr. Hawk, do you know why I came to the naturopathy center today?" Stanley's gaze fell on her flawless, porcelain-like face, her soft peach fuzz catching the light, making her beauty even more striking. Stanley's expression was cold, and it was clear he didn't care. His voice was harsh and distant. "Wendy, this is getting annoying." Wendy stepped forward with a dazzling smile. "I'm here to help you find a naturopath." She pulled a small card out of her pocket and handed it to him. "Here, this is for you." Stanley looked down at the slightly yellowed card, which looked like something someone might slip through a door crack. The card read, "Traditional Naturopath – Specializing in ED, and helping you rediscover your manhood. Contact: 138..8888" Stanley's usually stoic face cracked ever so slightly. Wendy slipped the card into his suit pocket. "Jessica has a problem. Mr. Hawk, don't you as well? You both should really get yourselves checked out." She turned and walked away without waiting for a response. Stanley's hand, hanging by his side, clenched into a fist. This woman always managed to push his buttons. Jessica broke the silence. "Stanley, let it go. Wendy isn't worth our time." Lilian nodded. "Right. Why isn't Dr. Ceylan here yet?" Everyone grew tense at the mention of Dr. Ceylan, who was Jessica's last hope. Stanley glanced at his watch. The appointment time had passed, but Dr. Ceylan hadn't arrived. Just then, a nurse walked in. "Mr. Hawk." Jessica, Harry, and Lilian perked up. "Is Dr. Ceylan here?" The nurse addressed Stanley. "Dr. Ceylan arrived earlier but has already left." 'What?' Stanley looked down the hallway but didn't see anyone—only Wendy disappearing around a corner. Stanley frowned. "I didn't see Dr. Ceylan." The nurse explained, "Dr. Ceylan came, but decided not to stay." "Why?" Jessica, Harry, and Lilian's expressions changed instantly. "Why would Dr. Ceylan leave without helping Jessica?" The nurse apologized, "I'm sorry, but Dr. Ceylan refused to treat Miss Jessica." Jessica's face went pale. Dr. Ceylan wouldn't treat her? Why? Their earlier hope was doused like a bucket of cold water. Everyone was stunned. Jessica lost it. "Why won't Dr. Ceylan treat me? Why?" Harry and Lilian immediately comforted her. "Jessica, don't get upset. We'll figure something out and bring Dr. Ceylan back. You'll be okay!" Stanley's sharp features hardened. He stared down the empty hallway, his aura radiating danger. Outside the hospital, someone called out, "Wendy." Wendy paused and turned around slowly. It was Lilian, who had followed her out. Lilian approached her. "Wendy, this is for you." Wendy glanced down—it was a check for 20,000. "Wendy, Mr. Hawk doesn't love you. Stop clinging to him and give him back to your sister. Why can't you let her have him? Just divorce him and take this money to start fresh in the countryside," Lilian said. Wendy found it absurd. If she hadn't secretly done a DNA test on Lilian and Jessica, she might have believed Jessica was Lilian's biological daughter. Yet, that wasn't the case. Lilian was only Jessica's stepmother. However, Lilian adored Jessica and not Wendy, her actual daughter. Wendy knew Lilian was obsessed with Harry, which explained her bias. Wendy's gaze was calm as she looked at Lilian. She smiled faintly. "So, being Mrs. Hawk is only worth this much to you? Or is that all I'm worth in your eyes?" Lilian froze, then hurriedly said, "Wendy, I'm your mother, and I'm doing this for your good. You don't belong here…" 'Mother?' The word sounded foreign, and Wendy laughed softly. "You already sent me to the countryside once, and now you want to do it again. You really are a great mother!" Wendy didn't look at Lilian again. She stepped into a taxi and left. Lilian stood frozen, watching Wendy's taxi leave. Just then, someone approached. "Mrs. Crone." Lilian turned to see Ted Whalen, the head of the naturopathy center. Lilian immediately approached him. "Dr. Whalen, you have so many connections. Can you help us get Dr. Ceylan to treat Jessica?" Dr. Whalen smiled. "Mrs. Crone, I know Dr. Ceylan personally. I can make the introduction." Lilian's face lit up. "Really? Thank you so much, Dr. Whalen." Dr. Whalen's gaze shifted to where Wendy had disappeared. A sly smile tugged at his lips. "Mrs. Crone, was that your daughter who came back from the countryside? She's stunning. For a second, I thought I'd seen an angel." Lilian's expression turned cold, her earlier excitement fading into icy indifference.	LEARN_MORE	https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=17748&ut	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	375	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	beokn.com	VIDEO		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=17748&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/474555537_2766815930157655_6524893559833358453_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=M299bqJaWxgQ7kNvgEOL28x&_nc_oc=AdhhL8xM9lGQQ5o6VJeCybGS3jnf-3fzVf52vhX7qunHiV-7OmHckA9iO7ITEPqru75IOWDCBQ4QCMyzm14DSKHm&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Ah9Wfntwi91MzHk1K6IORDY&oh=00_AYDjgnCl3eGIjs3L8uchbrrg9OSS4zi79gwEN_RRhco61Q&oe=67CBCD57	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,756,865	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2756859}'	Yes	2025-03-03 12:18	active	2772	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	"Are... are you sure, Esther?" I ask with a broken voice. My heart races, filled with happiness. "Very sure, Luna. You're carrying a little wolf!" "Why haven't I been able to smell it, or his father?" I ask, worried. "It's very recent, perhaps that's why. Give it a few more days and you should be able to sense the pheromones." She replies, and I nod, my eyes blurred with tears. I am the Luna of the "Autumn Forest" pack. Three years ago, I married the man I love madly, despite not being destined mates, my Alpha Dorian. I've given everything to be the perfect Luna, the pillar he can lean on. However, a shadow looms over my marriage—the topic of an heir. I've never been able to get pregnant, and I admit I don't share the bed with Dorian as often. But I know his duties as Alpha keep him extremely busy and stressed. "Please, don't tell anyone in the pack. I want to surprise my husband." "Don't worry, Luna, I won't say anything. Congratulations!" She smiles at me, and I return the smile, overflowing with excitement and happiness. Despite being a foreigner, not originally belonging to this pack, ever since my parents died and the previous Alpha took me in, I've never felt rejected or looked down upon. That's why I've devoted myself fully to my duties as Luna. I'm grateful for my life and the wonderful man I'm married to. *** "What's with all this food? Is there going to be a party?" "Hands off!" I swat away the greedy claws of Sophia, my best friend, who sneaked in through the back kitchen door. "But wow, puff pastry tart and everything!" she says, sitting on a stool. Honestly, I may have gone a bit overboard with the dishes, but I'm so happy I want everything to be perfect. All my Alpha's favorite foods are ready! "Well, today is Dorian's and my anniversary. I want to celebrate with an intimate dinner," I say, turning back to the caramel on the stove. I don't hear her respond, so I turn halfway, curious. "What's wrong?" "N-nothing, nothing... I just heard the Alpha had an emergency today. Didn't he tell you?" she asks, and I frown. Actually, Dorian doesn't usually explain much about his work. I guess it's to avoid worrying me. "No, but he'll come back anyway. He knows today is special." I respond, completely convinced. She looks at me strangely. Lately, I can't quite understand her, but she's the first person who approached me in this pack and has always supported me. I value her greatly as a friend. "Sophie, there's something I want to tell you, but... I'll tell you tomorrow. It's very important to me," I say suddenly, wanting to share the good news with her, but not before confessing it to Dorian. "Really? Can't you tell me now?" she asks, gossip-mode activated, leaning over the counter while munching on a homemade cookie. "No, no. Tomorrow. I promise you'll be the second to know," I reply, and I can feel my happiness radiating from every pore. "Fine, I'll leave you with your mystery then. I've got things to do. Happy anniversary," she grumbles, frustrated I didn't spill the secret, and leaves the same way she came. I check the clock. There's still time. I take off my apron and head to the second floor to shower and get dressed nicely. Everything has to be perfect tonight, celebrating with my beloved mate. * I glance at the clock for the thousandth time, sitting on the sofa. It's past midnight, and Dorian hasn't arrived. I look at the cold dishes on the dining table and get up, resigned to reheating them again. I'm in the middle of that task when I hear the front door open and close. His delicious scent tingles my nose, warming my stomach. I glance at my burgundy dress, smoothing it out and fixing my hair in the hallway mirror. My jet-black hair is tied in a high ponytail, and my intensely blue eyes, highlighted with makeup, stare back at me. I step into the foyer, watching my imposing Alpha enter the door. "My love, how was your day? Lots of work, right?" I grab the coat he's holding to hang it up. I see him clutching some documents, but I assume they're pack matters. I move closer to kiss him, but he steps back. "I'm sweaty and dirty from the road. Don't contaminate yourself," he says, his piercing honey eyes staring at me—eyes I adore despite their constant coldness. It's just part of his nature. He carries too many responsibilities after inheriting the role so young when his father died. His blond hair is messily handsome, and for some reason, damp. I can even catch the scent of an unfamiliar shower gel. Why would he shower before coming home? And he said he was dirty, yet it's clear he just bathed. "S-sure, give me a second to reheat dinner. You must be hungry..." "I'm not hungry. Valeria, we need to talk." "But the dinner—" "Forget dinner. Let's go to the living room. I need to tell you something," his authoritative voice makes me tense. I follow him, starting to feel deeply worried. My hand slips into my skirt pocket, clutching the folded document stating I'm having his baby. "Why was the table so full of dishes? Were you planning a party?" he asks, glancing at the dining room. My heart clenches. "Love, I know you've been busy with pack duties. But... don't tell me you forgot our anniversary? Today marks three years since we mated," I say, sitting on the couch. I expect him to sit beside me, but instead, he chooses the armchair opposite. Dorian has never been overly affectionate, but tonight he's too distant. Too cold. An alarm goes off inside me. "Of course, I remembered. You have no idea how long I've been waiting for our third anniversary," he replies, but I don't see a trace of joy in his expression. I know everything will change with my news. Our relationship hasn't been great because of this. The pack elders keep pressuring him for an heir. When I tell him about the baby, he'll be happy. "I'll be quick because I can't stand this any—" "Wait! Wait, Dorian. Let me show you something first, and then you can tell me what you wanted to say," I interrupt him, feeling a strong premonition, I won't like his next words. Lowering my head, I take out the folded paper and hand it to him, my heart racing with emotion. He takes it, reading silently as I watch him, anxious, waiting for his joy to match mine. "I'm pregnant! I'm carrying your pup! We'll have an heir for the pack. I'm sure the Goddess has blessed us with a son!" I can't hold back and blurt it out directly. Tears in my eyes, I rise and move toward him, wanting to embrace him. But as in love as I am, even I can see this isn't the reaction I expected from the father of my child. "Are you sure about this, or is it just a trick to keep me tied to you?" he suddenly says, rising and pushing me away when I try to hug him. "Dorian... Of course, I'm sure. Look, that's the midwife's handwriting. Why would I lie about something so important? My love, what's wrong? What's happening, my Alpha?" "No, no. Damn it!" I watch him pace like a caged wolf around the living room. "This can't be happening. Not now!" "Dorian..." "Did you tell my mother? Anyone else?!" he asks suddenly, approaching me and gripping my shoulders tightly. "N-no, love. I was waiting to tell you first. I thought... you'd be happy. I know they've been pressuring you. Alpha, you don't have to be tense anymore. We'll have our family." I raise a trembling hand to caress his cheek, but he just stares at me with those golden eyes, silent. I can't figure out what's going on in his head. "You're right... I've been very stressed. I'm sorry," he suddenly pulls me into his arms, and I finally sigh, relieved, hugging him back tenderly. For a second, I feared he wasn't happy. "We'll get through this together, my Alpha. I'll be the perfect Luna so no one will judge you," I whisper, lifting my head. I want him to kiss me, to make love to me like we haven't in a long time. "Let's go for a run. A wild, unrestricted anniversary night." He suddenly suggests it, taking my hand and pulling me toward the back of our house, which borders the pack's forest. "Shift into your she-wolf," he commands, and I watch him undressing. He's so charming and strong. His hair glows under the moonlight, and I begin the transformation into my "she-wolf," one of the greatest lies and secrets of my life—something not even Dorian knows. * We run freely across the pack's lands. But I notice how we keep going farther and farther, even crossing the borders, yet I just follow Dorian's massive white wolf racing wildly ahead of me. We reach a remote place, at the edge of a deep cliff, but above us, the moon shines intensely, and the forest landscape stretches far below. "Where is this? We're outside our pack's territory... Aren't we trespassing on someone's land?" I gaze into the distance from the edge, mesmerized by the view, having already shifted back into human form, but no one responds. I feel uneasy and start to turn around. However, something inside me stirs with alarm. A crow caws in the distance—but it's already too late. "Do... Dorian, wha—?! Aaaaaahhh!" I scream as I feel wolf claws tearing into my abdomen, deeply ripping through me. Terrified and shocked by the sudden attack, I try to run. I attempt to shift back into my wolf to escape into the forest, away from whatever is happening, away from this rabid Alpha wolf whose blood-red eyes glare at me with pure hatred—but it's impossible to flee. "Ahhh! Let me go! Dorian, what are you doing?! What are you doing?! Ahhh! Help! Help!" I scream as he jumps on me when I try to escape. C2 THE WORST BETRAYAL VALERIA He bites my thigh viciously and drags me beneath his body, controlling me mercilessly. I try to resist, to call for help, my hands clutching my stomach, trying to protect my pup, but his claws, like deadly weapons, pierce my skin, tearing apart my small, vulnerable body. I have to raise my arms instinctively when his sharp claws aim for my face, and I scream in agony as a deep wound slices across my cheek from my forehead. Leaving my belly exposed, he struck our child. "Nooo, not the pup, please, Dorian, not our son!" Tears poured endlessly from my eyes as I begged him, but his canines tore through my flesh, and his claws dug into the depths of my insides with chilling cruelty, seeking to rip out the life growing inside me. I don’t know how long this agony lasted—I sobbed, pleading as long as I could speak. The pain in my entire body was unbearable, but worse was the pain in my soul, bleeding and shattered. I was discarded on the ground like trash, on the edge of a precipice, my consciousness nearly slipping away from the pain when I saw him shift into his human form. "You thought you could keep me tied to you forever?" he yelled furiously. His eyes were cold and disgusted, a look I had never seen before. "Did you really think I loved you, that I was dying to have a child with you? What a waste!" He kicked me with rage, but I no longer had the strength to even moan in pain. "Three damn years I've been separated from my mate because of you!" he roared, pouring out all the hatred he'd stored up over time. "Why…?" I barely managed to whisper, my face swollen, my tongue heavy, and my throat bleeding from a deep wound. "Because you came to the pack, the miserable orphan, and that old lady said you would give birth to the strongest Alphas, powerful enough to elevate my bloodline." "Pure nonsense from that crazy old hag, but my mother believed her and forced me to give up my mate for you because you were infatuated with me! She gave me three damn years—that was our deal. If you didn’t succeed, I’d be free." "So, today I come, ready to rid myself of an obstacle like you, and you say that you’re carrying my son," he laughed like a psychopath. "I won’t let you do it again, Valeria. You won't ruin my life again. This is the end for you!" He walked toward me, and I saw death staring me in the face. I wanted to say so many things... «I didn't know you already loved someone else. I was just a foolish, infatuated girl, but I never forced you to love me back. How could you deceive me, fake everything all this time? Our child… how could you… how could you do this…?!» I felt so powerless as I lay there, sobbing, bloody, and dying. I wished I could connect with his wolf, scream out this injustice, but I couldn’t—not even that. I didn’t have an inner she-wolf. I could only shift my body and pretend. Some said it was trauma from my adoptive parents’ violent death, where only I survived. Others claimed it was a curse, but I knew that wasn't true. I had never felt the presence of a wolf spirit within me. "Goodbye, dear wife. You don't seem so special after all," he said cynically, and with his foot, he kicked me over the cliff's edge. The last thing I knew was the sensation of falling into the cold void. I looked up at the dark sky as shadows of crows circled above my head, like messengers of death. "I'm so sorry, baby. I couldn't protect you." * "Why aren't her wounds healing properly?" "I can't waste the pack's blood on a stranger. Jake already did too much rescuing her from the rogue woods. She has to heal on her own." "Honestly, I don't even know how this woman is still alive. Poor thing… her body is horribly damaged, especially her belly… and her face." I heard voices talking nearby, hands examining me. An unbearable pain worse than death itself burned through my body, dragging me between consciousness and darkness. I don’t know how much time passed or where I was, but when I opened my eyes, I saw a white ceiling. I looked around and saw a small room, lying on a personal bed. "You're awake?" a female voice spoke suddenly beside me, and I saw an unfamiliar face. I tried to speak, but for some reason, I couldn't—it was as if my vocal cords refused to work. "Don't strain yourself. Stay calm. You… I don't think you can talk right now because of the wound on your neck," she explained with a troubled expression. And then, my foggy mind remembered—everything. The first thing I did was reach for my belly, trying to sit up despite the dizziness and searing pain. "Don't move! Wait, calm down, calm down!" she stopped me and eased me back down, but I needed to know—desperately—I had to know if a miracle had occurred. I looked at her intensely and then at my stomach, wrapped in thick bandages. "Yes… I understand what you're asking, but… I'm sorry… your belly was completely torn. Your womb was destroyed, and your pup… didn't make it. It was impossible to save him. We don't even know how you're still alive." I felt the tears pouring uncontrollably from my eyes. I closed them in pure agony, my soul shattering. My lips trembled, my entire body shook, and ragged sobs escaped my torn throat. Why did this have to happen to me? Why did everything around me have to turn into a nightmare? My baby, my pup was innocent. Why did something so horrible have to happen to him? "Calm down, please! You can't get like this! Aston, I need you here! Bring the sedative! Now, Aston, hurry!" "Aaaahh! Aaaahh!" I heard distorted screams, a cry so raw it could freeze the blood and shatter hearts. A desperate, broken woman wailed—and then I realized… it was me. That wretched woman who had lost everything… was me. * Days have passed. I know a man rescued me from the forest beneath the cliff. I'm staying in a small pack not far from Autumn Forest. With my hands still covered in wounds, I try to splash water on my face, but I can't even bear to touch my skin. I lift my head, and as I do every time that I face a mirror, I have to summon all my courage. My face, once beautiful and envied by many she-wolves, now bears a horrific scar running across my forehead and another deep one on my left cheek. Dorian not only destroyed my child's life, my womb, but he also scarred my face. It should have healed, but I know it won't. I don't possess the rapid healing ability of werewolves. Yes, I heal—but slower, and scars remain. I step outside the small room and hear the healer and the she-wolf who treated me speaking quietly. They're discussing how I've used too many resources and how they may have to ask me to leave soon since packs rarely welcome outsiders so easily. But the she-wolf argues that I’m still in terrible condition. I appreciate her care and empathy, but it won't be necessary to cast me out. I've already decided—I’ll leave tonight on my own. * Hours later, I walk through the dark forest like a lost soul, the damp bandages soaked with reopened wounds, bleeding. I don't care—my legs keep moving in a single direction. Hiding in the bushes, I watch the patrol line carefully. I know exactly how to slip past without being detected—I designed this defense rotation myself for Dorian. Like so many things I did for him and the pack. I slip away into the shadows, as quickly as my battered body allows. The night and darkness are my allies. It's as if they amplify my strange abilities. I hear voices, laughter, and lights in the distance—from the backyard of what had been my home for three long years. I walk as if in slow motion, wearing old sneakers and a worn-out dress that the she-wolf from the hospital gave me. "Ladies and gentlemen, I've gathered you all here today because I could no longer hide my happiness. I’m finally marrying my beloved mate, the woman of my life, my sweet Sophia, your future Luna." I feel like I'm falling into a cavern of ice as I watch them, smiling and kissing in front of those who once called me Luna. It was my "best friend" Sophia and my traitorous Alpha Dorian, celebrating their union while my body should have been rotting beneath that cliff if their plan had worked. Traitorous hypocrite! That woman was even wearing one of my evening dresses, made up with my things, stealing my life without a trace of remorse. She had deceived me all this time, just as I had been blind to everyone in this pack, and worse, to the man who lay beside me every night while thinking of another woman. Even the midwife who told me about my pregnancy was there! Dorian must have promised her something to keep her silent. I clenched my fists so tightly my nails dug into my palms, my teeth chattering with rage. I waited, waited like the deranged psychopath I had become, watching their entire celebration until the lights went out and everyone left for their homes. * I climbed the stairs to the second floor, walked down the dimly lit hallway, but I could hear them perfectly—making love in the master bedroom. Her feminine moans slipped through the crack of the slightly open door. I saw myself pushing it open gently. The moonlight streamed in through the large window, illuminating that figure riding Dorian, her back facing the entrance. "Alpha, tell me I'm better than her… Mmm… Come on, Dorian, tell me I'm better than that frigid Valeria." "You're the best, baby… don't even compare yourself to that stiff. Do me in her bed, come on… wasn't that what you always wanted?" Their filthy words hit my ears, and it was the final trigger I needed for everything to spiral out of control in an instant. I lunged at them on the bed. C3 THE OWNER OF THE CASTLE VALERIA I hear piercing screams, the sound of shattering glass, a savage roar, an Alpha's growls, struggling, and fighting. Something hot splashes against my face and arms. My claws shred, and my canines teared. I can't stop. I can't. Rage consumes me from the inside, demanding release. I don't know what I'm doing. I'm not conscious of myself. All I know is that when I regain control of my body, the first thing I see is my red hands. I'm kneeling on the floor, everything around me drenched in red, wreckage, and pieces of what once was a powerful Alpha—Dorian. What have I done? What in the name of the Goddess have I done?! I stare at his severed head, lying just a meter away from me. Those honey-colored eyes still stare back at me in frozen terror, and I feel bile rising in my throat. I vomit to the side, unable to hold it back, disgusted by this scene of death and violence. Did I do all this? There's no one else here. I scan the area, not knowing where Sophia went. The only thing I'm sure of is that someone was thrown through the shattered glass window. I stand up on trembling legs, glance down, but all I see is the forest behind the house and bloodstains across the grass. "Don't let her escape! Sophia, stop crying and tell me clearly what happened!" Voices shouted, hurried footsteps ascending the stairs. It was my mother-in-law's voice. I had to get out of here. I had killed the Alpha, and only a painful death awaited me. Desperately, I looked down. It seemed I had thrown that wretch Sophia out the window. I decided to jump out myself, from the second floor. BAM! The door burst open during my hesitation, and my eyes locked with Anaís, my mother-in-law, the former Luna—Dorian's mother. I saw the shock, the pain, and the fury in her eyes as she took in the scene. "You miserable! You killed my son! You murdered my Dorian! Seize her! Restrain her! I'm going to tear her apart with my bare hands!" She screamed, and the warriors behind her charged at me. I jumped without thinking. "Aaagghhh!" I groaned in pain as I crashed onto the grass, rolling over, but I forced my body to shift into my wolf form and ran with all the strength I had left. I fled into the forest as fast as my weakened legs allowed, escaping death. I don't know if it was adrenaline or sheer will to live, but I ran like a madwoman through unfamiliar lands and tangled woods. Days passed that way, where I only stopped to rest when I was on the verge of collapse, drinking water from mountain streams and feeding on prey that somehow appeared dead before me. Yes, yet another strange thing about my life. The few times I dared to close my eyes, every time I woke up, a small dead animal lay in front of my muzzle. I devoured them without knowing if they were poisonous or where they came from—I just needed energy. All I could think about was surviving. One night, I felt them again. I thought they had grown tired of chasing my trail, but that wasn’t the case. The sound of multiple wolves' footsteps echoed not far away. Desperation and exhaustion consumed me—I couldn't keep running forever. I had been skirting the borders of various packs, trying not to get caught, but that wasn't a solution. "She's just ahead! I can smell her! She will pay for this!" I heard a snarl—already so close to my trail. I could practically feel the danger breathing down my neck as I pushed my legs and lungs past their limit. I was done. They were going to catch me after all this effort. Then I lifted my blue eyes and saw them—above me, a flock of crows. Cawing, circling over my wolf form, as if trying to lead me somewhere. And for some reason, I followed them. I followed their sign and ventured deeper into unfamiliar lands—into the forbidden forest where no one dared enter without an invitation. But I had nothing left to lose. If I was going to die, at least let it be quick and without torture. That's how I crossed through the mist, leading me to the Golden Moon pack, the territory guarded by the Guardians—the land ruled by the Lycan King. * I felt like no one was following me anymore. I had no idea how far I had gone into Golden Moon territory, but suddenly, several powerful warriors blocked my path, surrounding me. "Who are you, and why have you trespassed into our pack?" a massive gray wolf asked coldly, approaching me menacingly. The black wolf I shifted into, so small and fragile, would be considered an Omega—the lowest rank in the pack, the weakest, often reduced to servitude. That was why, when I became Luna, I had felt foolishly grateful to Dorian. "I'm only seeking refuge to rest… I’m sorry for entering your forest. Just a few days, please… I only need a few days to recover and leave." I pleaded, praying my pursuers wouldn't dare follow me here. "Where do you come from? Speak! Why did you cross the Forbidden Forest? No one comes here for no reason! Tell the truth, or I'll rip your head off right now!" He growled, shoving me with his shoulder. I let out a low whimper of pain, unable to resist. Before he could take further action or carry out his threats, darkness consumed my vision, and I felt my body collapse unconscious to the ground. Maybe this time, I wouldn't wake up again. * The next time I opened my eyes, I was in a dark, damp cell, wearing tattered clothes barely covering my battered human body. Only the Goddess knows how I'm still alive. It seems she wants me to suffer—slowly and torturously. BAM! The sound of a metal door slamming jolted me. "So, you're finally awake! Take her out!" A massive, bald, intimidating man ordered two guards, who dragged me out. It was that gray wolf. I didn’t even have the strength to walk, let alone resist. They took me to a small room where the questioning began—trying to dominate me with his Alpha presence. But it didn’t work. I had no inner wolf to submit. I spent hours there, sitting on a hard chair, my hands tied behind me with ropes cutting into my skin. No matter how much freezing water they threw at me, how much they shouted or threatened, I kept my story and waited to die. My head hung limply, eyes closed, exhausted. At least they hadn’t beaten me or done worse. I've heard horrible stories about this pack of barbarians. "Fine. Since you refuse to talk, you know what awaits you. I've given you the chance to confess." His dark eyes locked on mine, giving me his final warning, but I had nothing more to say. He drew a dagger, yanked my hair back, exposing my neck, ready to slit my throat. I saw hesitation in his eyes when my black hair fell away, revealing my hideous scars. Maybe I looked pitiful—but he had a job to do. And I was ready for it to end. The dagger lowered, and I resigned myself. But a knock on the door interrupted my death once again, sending my emotions from one extreme to the other. "Now what the hell…? M-Madam… I mean, Housekeeper, what brings you here?" His previously harsh voice turned nearly submissive. Curious, I looked toward the door and saw a short woman with blonde hair tied up neatly, elegant yet stern. "What were you doing here?" Her cold green eyes fixed on mine, and I lowered my head. "She’s an intruder. Pack business—" "You were going to kill her, weren’t you?" she accused. "M-Madam, can we discuss this outside? It's protocol with intruders—" I heard his words stop short as a pair of black boots entered the room, standing right before me. "What's your name, girl?" "Valeria," I whispered weakly. "Look at me when I speak to you!" she ordered, and I lifted my head. She has a superior, imposing aura, and honestly, I think she's more terrifying than the massive brute. "Tell me, Valeria, do you want to live or die? You can survive if you agree to work for me. If not, pretend you never saw me," she offered, leaving me stunned. "W-what kind of work would it be?" "Work for the Guardians, in the castle kitchen or wherever you're needed—as a maid. I offer you shelter and food in exchange, a new chance to live," she said without breaking eye contact. I hesitated, feeling like I was selling my soul to another ruthless ruler. The Guardians were the Lycans, and the worst of them all was their leader, Aldric, the "Specter Slayer," whom all werewolves considered their king, though he didn’t seem to care about the title. "I don't have all day. Are you coming or not?" she pressed. "Housekeeper, this woman is a stranger… how can she enter the castle with the Guardians? We don't know her intentions—" "I don't care why you entered these cursed lands. Your past stays behind if you accept my offer. But if you betray me or plot anything behind my back, slitting your throat will be the least of my punishments," the woman threatened, leaving me with only a second to decide. Live or die. Start anew in a strange place, possibly filled with more humiliation and suffering—or die now and end my miserable existence. "I'll go with you. I accept the job," I finally chose to survive. * The Golden Moon pack was located in a valley, surrounded by dense forest with thick fog, and perched atop a hill in the distance was an imposing ancient stone castle. We traveled there in a carriage, rolling along cobblestone streets. This pack was massive, far more powerful than my former one. I remained silent the entire way, my black hair always hiding the scars on my face, my head bowed, not wanting to draw attention. The enormous ebony doors opened, carved stone walls rising tall and powerful, with strange statues perched on the dark eaves. At last, we arrived at an inner courtyard, and I stepped down from the carriage with some discomfort. I stared at the looming castle, half-shrouded in mist, more nightmarish than inviting. "Come. I'll give you your uniform and show you your room," she ordered, and I followed her inside. The moment we crossed the entrance, we were greeted by a massive hall. A chandelier filled with candles hung in the center, illuminating the spiraling staircases that seemed to stretch endlessly upward. I was distracted for a moment, staring at the glossy black-and-white marble floor, when something seemed to fall from the ceiling. BAM! I stumbled back, startled, barely containing a scream of pure panic as a woman's corpse crashed at my feet. She was headless, and blood still gushed from her severed neck, staining the entire floor—and even my legs. The head rolled down next; lifeless eyes frozen in a horrified expression. I looked up, trembling, and at the top of the stairs, a pair of gray, lupine, savage eyes stared back at me for a few seconds, chilling my blood to the core. C4 TAKING OUT THEIR LOVERS VALERIA His entire demeanor screamed, I'm the damn master of everything here, the absolute ruler. I immediately lowered my head, trembling. It didn’t matter that I lacked an inner she-wolf— the power radiating from that man felt like it could suffocate you, crush your soul, and he wasn't even standing that close to me. He was a Lycan, the superior species of werewolves, the ultimate evolution, and I was almost certain this was the most powerful of them all—Aldric Thorne, the Lycan King. "Sasha, take out the trash and make sure my next personal maid isn’t a scheming one, or she'll lose more than her head," his deep, cold, and intimidating voice echoed, followed by the sound of footsteps retreating. "This is a disaster. That's the fifth one in two months. I don’t know what goes through these girls' heads. I warned them," the housekeeper muttered as she approached, pulling a small vial from the dead woman’s hand. "Another one who tried to please the King thinking she could be different and rise. Brainless. I'll call a servant to take her away. And your first task begins now—clean up this mess." And so, my work in the Lycan King's castle began. The first lesson I learned: never, ever try to mess with that dangerous man, or you'll end up headless. Unfortunately, I soon found myself on the razor's edge again. * Sasha introduced me to the staff, a group of she-wolves and wolves working in the castle, attending to the Guardians. They all stared at me as if they were looking at a monster. I didn’t care—I just wanted to keep existing and stay invisible. "The Guardians"—that’s what they called the five Lycans who lived in this ancient, dark castle. They enforced the laws of our world, or at least those affecting werewolves, maintaining balance with other supernatural creatures. They delivered justice, protection, and punishment—often in the most brutal, merciless ways. Especially the Lycan King. At least, that's what I had always heard. I was forbidden from climbing the stairs or wandering beyond the service quarters. And honestly, I didn’t plan to try. I focused on working and healing with the medicine the housekeeper gave me. The food here was good too. Except for the first day, I had gone three days without seeing any of the other Guardians. Until this morning. * "Hey, I heard the housekeeper saying she still hasn’t found a suitable candidate for the King's maid. Maybe she'll give us a chance." I was scrubbing the floor on my knees, listening to the whispers echoing through the castle's massive kitchen. My head stayed down, and my long black bangs nearly covered my eyes, helping to conceal the disfigurement on my face. My hands kept moving the cloth over the tiles, but ignoring the gossip was impossible. Suddenly, the room went silent. Heels echoed from the hallway, and tension filled the air— it was the housekeeper. "Stop what you're doing. I want all of you in a line," she ordered, her voice sharp. The cooks, maids, and even me—the lowly cleaner—all lined up like prisoners, standing side by side. She began her inspection, passing each trembling figure, heads bowed low. When her shadow passed in front of me, I thought she would move on. She didn’t. "What was your name again?" she asked. "Valeria, ma'am," I replied softly. Her cold finger pressed beneath my chin, forcing me to raise my head. My blue eyes met her intimidating green gaze. "Good. I think I'll try a different strategy this time. Come with me," she ordered, and a sense of dread twisted in my chest. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the stares from the other women in the line. Bitter glares filled with jealousy, anger, envy. Nothing good. That much was certain. "Listen carefully, Valeria. You're going to be King Aldric's personal maid," she dropped the bombshell casually, as if it were nothing, walking toward the other side of the kitchen. "Do you know how to cook, iron, organize a man’s things, his clothes, and so on?" "Y-yes, ma'am. But… I don’t think I'm the right choice for the position. Perhaps someone more—" "It's not optional," she cut me off, turning abruptly. "You either accept it, or you leave. I don't need a floor cleaner right now. I need a maid for the King. Understood?" I had no choice but to nod. Sometimes, I forgot that this harsh woman had saved my life. Though, honestly, I still didn’t know why—especially now that she was sending me straight into the Lycan's den. "Memorize everything I'm about to say. The King wakes up at… He doesn’t like… Prefers it this way… And his meals are only prepared by the cook from this section. Make sure it’s always her… And you must taste it before serving him." She paced through the kitchen, the laundry area, practically the entire service zone, listing the King's preferences and dislikes. I followed, my brain nearly short-circuiting from the overwhelming information. I need to write all this down later! "Alright. You'll deliver his first breakfast now. Do exactly as I tell you,” she said, placing a silver tray full of covered dishes in my hands. "And Valeria… remember, head down. Stay invisible. You're nothing but a piece of furniture." "And I trust you haven't forgotten the scene from your first day here. If you try anything against the King, believe me, he was merciful with that woman." Her warning made me swallow hard as I nodded. I didn’t consider myself a coward, but it felt like I was marching straight to the gallows as I climbed the forbidden stairs, moving through the dim candlelit corridors leading to the Guardian leader's quarters. I reached the only door in this wing—an enormous wooden door with intricate carvings—and tried to recall every instruction. "Don't knock at this hour. Go straight inside." So, I did. Balancing the tray carefully, I twisted the heavy doorknob. Step by step, I entered the den of the big bad wolf, avoiding unnecessary glances around. I immediately noticed the large wooden table at the center, the dim lighting, and I focused on setting the breakfast properly. But then I heard it—and smelled it. The scent of lust. Through my bangs, I glanced toward a black door, slightly ajar. Muffled female moans seeped through, despite being closed. More than one woman’s voice. The rhythmic sound of something hitting a wall echoed. Maybe the bed—I didn’t know, and I didn’t care. The most important rule: head down, stay invisible. Don't speak. Don't look. Don't listen. I was so focused on remembering every detail of his preferences, circling the table, that I didn’t even notice when the sounds stopped. "Who are you?" a dominant voice behind me made me flinch. My trembling fists tightened, and I turned, staring down at the gray rug. "Your Majesty, my name is Valeria. I am your new maid," I managed without stuttering. A massive shadow loomed over me, every instinct screaming danger, run—but I stood firm as he placed a finger beneath my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. I expected disgust at my scarred face. Instead, I saw fierce, intimidating gray eyes studying me—so captivating they resembled lethal steel. "Where's your inner wolf?" he asked, frowning. How had he noticed with just one glance? "I… I’m not entirely sure, sir. I suffered a traumatic experience before I turned eighteen, and her spirit never appeared. But… I can shift into my wolf form. Others say it's a curse." I added quickly, half-expecting to be dismissed on my first day. Scarred, cursed—what a perfect maid. "Is that why your face hasn't healed?" he asked, his voice calm but piercing. "I suppose so, sir. My healing is… slower than others." He said nothing, but his intense scrutiny made my skin crawl. Did I say the wrong thing? I avoided lingering on his rugged features, but it was becoming clear why so many women risked losing their heads just for a night in his bed. Aldric Thorne was a man built for sin. A towering figure, nearly two meters tall, with a powerful, scarred body, bold and commanding. Muscular, rough, impossibly attractive. And despite his icy aura, his long shoulder-length hair was deep crimson, just like his short beard—like fire, like blood he could spill without flinching. "I don't care about your peculiarities, but I do expect you to have understood the rules clearly because I won't tolerate disobedience or tricks," he warned me, his voice dangerously low and guttural. I nodded, swallowing hard. "Yes, your maje—" "And call me Sir. I don't like that Your Majesty nonsense," he clarified, finally releasing me and walking toward the other side of the room. I exhaled, realizing I had been holding my breath the entire time. Yet, I could still catch that scent lingering from his skin, something like aged wine—rich, and intoxicating. Could it be some cologne? I couldn't detect the pheromones of werewolves like others could. "They'll be here soon to collect those women. Make sure they leave and clean up everything," he ordered without even sparing me a glance, then disappeared through a door leading to what seemed like another room. I remained standing there in the dim light, frozen for a moment. Then, clenching my fists, I gathered my resolve and moved to deal with his lovers still in bed. I opened the door and stared in shock at the chaotic scene inside. The room was dimly lit, clothes strewn across the floor, and in the center, three women lay sprawled. The heavy scent filled the air, making it hard to breathe. "Umm… ladies, it's time to leave," I said softly, but none of them reacted, their eyes shut as if completely oblivious. They looked exhausted, their bodies marked with bites, bruises, and a mess of fluids staining their thighs. "The King ordered you to leave. You need to—" "Shut up, you annoying brat!" snarled the blonde lying in the middle of the two brunettes, even throwing a pillow at me, which I narrowly dodged. Well, they still have some energy left, it seems. Okay, this wasn’t going as smoothly as I had imagined, and they were already settling back down as if planning to sleep there. Aren't they uncomfortable covered in all that… stuff? But I couldn't fail my first task. I knew he had done this on purpose—to test me. I headed to the bathroom, filled a basin with cold water, and placed it near the bed. Rolling up my sleeves, exposing my pale arms, I then walked over to the massive crimson curtains, grabbed the heavy fabric, and yanked them open with force. "Aaaahh! Close it, right now! Close the curtain!" they screeched like the possessed, even though the sky was overcast. The sun never really shone brightly here—this land was always cloaked in thick fog. Grabbing the basin, I lifted it and—splash! —drenched them in icy water to snap them out of it. "Have you lost your damn mind, maid?!" C5 THE KING'S MAID VALERIA "Aahh, it’s horrible, she’s deformed!" "You’re just jealous, that’s why you want to keep us away from the King!" "The Lord has said you must leave now," I repeated impassively, while they hurled insults at me. But I felt nothing—not cold, not heat. I thought about how to get them out since, weakened or not, there were three of them and only one of me. Just then, loud knocks echoed from the side door leading to the hallway, a door I hadn’t even noticed before. It had to be the person sent to remove them from the castle. I walked over and opened it, revealing two sturdy servants who entered without a word. The women began to resist, screaming that their bodies were only for the King, threatening that our heads would roll. I didn’t need to be here long to see through their lies. That man had used them like disposable objects and was now discarding them like trash. The blonde rushed toward the door leading to the dining hall, but I stepped in front of her, standing firm and blocking her way. "Have some dignity and leave already. The King has ordered it. Don’t risk dying." "I want him to tell me himself! Last night, he showed me otherwise! Get out of my way!" she lunged at me, baring her fangs. I defended myself, grabbing her arms mid-air as we struggled. Her long claws scratched me in her fury, and I knew I could control her because, right now, she was weak. This she-wolf was stronger than me—honestly, anyone was stronger than me. With the help of the servants, we managed to drag the last crazed woman out of the room. I shut the door, breathing heavily. "Quite the first day on the job," I muttered in resignation, staring at the disaster I now had to clean. * I wiped the sweat from my forehead, taking a moment to catch my breath, surveying the nearly tidy room. The worst part was the bed. Even after removing the dirty sheets, I had gone overboard with the water. So, I thought of pushing the mattress closer to the window to let it air out and catch some sun. "Mmnn," I grunted, yanking at the heavy king-size mattress, my hands trembling. I doubted I could move it. I kept struggling when— "How many centuries does it take you to organize a room?" His voice startled me—I hadn’t heard him enter. I turned to apologize, but a wrong step, my nerves, and apparently a sticky substance I’d left on the floor caused me to lose my balance and fall forward. By instinct, I grabbed onto the first thing I could, falling to my knees with my eyes shut tight. Something had slipped from my hands, and now another thing, thick, brushed against my nose. A dark, musky, intoxicating scent assaulted my senses. When I opened my eyes again and saw the sight before me, I wished I could die right there without needing him to kill me. In my hands was a black towel—I assumed it had been around the King's hips—and I was on my knees, clutching his powerful thighs, with a massive, veiny member right in front of my wide eyes. «Girl, this could make you cry» was the first thing that crossed my mind in my nervous breakdown. And to think it was only half... not even Dorian’s compared in detail. "Should I fetch a tape measure so you can size it up too?" His cold voice snapped me out of my frozen state. Terrified, I raised my gaze to see him completely naked, in all his glory, his burgundy hair loose and tousled, damp from the shower, and I could swear his gray eyes held a mocking glint. "Your Majesty, I’m so sorry! Please, spare the life of this humble servant who doesn’t deserve your mercy!" I threw myself to the ground, pressing my forehead against the hard surface, begging him. What I had done was unforgivable. By the Goddess, I had even stayed there... staring at it. His threatening shadow loomed over my trembling body. I clenched my eyes shut, bracing for the end. "I’ll leave right away... I beg you... I’ll leave the castle... please..." "I don’t have the patience to find a new servant every day. You leave when I decide so. Now get up." His deep voice rumbled close to my ear, and I felt him tugging at the towel I still clutched in my hands. I released it immediately, sweat trailing down my back as my entire body trembled. "Besides, if you’re going to serve me, it won’t be the last time you see it. It’s not a big deal. Come to the dining room," he added before his bare footsteps echoed away from the room. Swallowing nervously, I stood on shaky legs. «Come on, Valeria, focus, please. » "Try the breakfast," he ordered, gesturing to the food set on the table. He sat, dominating the large chair, observing my every move. I picked up the fork and cut a small piece from each dish, tasting everything bite by bite. "If something is not to your liking, I can ask the kitchen to—" "That won’t be necessary. Everything’s fine," he interrupted and then fell silent. I kept my gaze on the floor, unsure of what he was waiting for, frantically reviewing every rule in my mind. "Do you think I’m a savage who eats with his hands?" "What? No, no, Your Maj... Sir..." I quickly lifted my gaze and saw him glancing at the fork still in my hand. Holy Goddess, I had covered the only utensil with saliva! The housekeeper hadn’t mentioned I had to taste the food here too! "I... I’ll get another, I’m so sorry—" "You seem to apologize well," he said as he took the fork from my hand. "It’s dirty, I... I ate with it—" I didn’t finish because he wiped it with a napkin and began eating calmly. I stepped back, standing in the corner, awaiting his orders. Through my bangs, I occasionally stole glances at him. He looked relaxed wearing just the towel, eating and reviewing some documents beside him. No matter what the Lycan King did, his aggressive aura filled the entire space, demanding only obedience and submission. This was my new master. And honestly, I was starting to wonder if I’d be better off running far away from this castle... and this pack. Aldric Thorne was the most dangerous thing I could have crossed paths with. *** Days passed, and despite my rookie mistakes, I managed to survive. The Lord wasn’t constantly present at the castle either—he often traveled between packs or faced dangerous situations. I hadn’t even seen the other “Guardians” until one morning. "Phew, I honestly don’t know how you handle the pressure and temptation," said Juliette. She was the only staff member who had approached me. An extroverted, cheerful girl. I didn’t consider her a friend, though—I'd never trust a woman like that again. But at least her chatter kept me entertained. We were walking through the underground corridor carrying laundry baskets when a side door leading to one of the many training gyms opened. A massive Lycan emerged. I knew by the powerful aura he projected. We immediately lowered our heads, waiting for him to pass, but his steps approached us instead. "Are these clean towels?" asked a strong but calm male voice. "Yes, yes, Sir," I answered, realizing I was the one carrying them. I glanced up for a second. Enchanting golden eyes stared back at me. I quickly lowered my gaze to the carpet and handed him a towel, but as he reached out, our fingers brushed for a moment. His touch was warm. Despite being intimidating, this Lycan projected a protective aura—not as sharp and wild as the King's. "I’m sorry... I’m so sorry—" "Relax, it’s fine. Thank you," he replied, taking the towel and walking away down the hallway. And then I dared to look at his back. Blond hair, massive like all Lycans, powerful, his muscular, sweaty back glistening, dressed in black combat gear. It seemed like he had been training. For some reason, the combination of his eyes and hair reminded me a bit of Dorian. I didn’t want to remember him at all, but the mind could be a traitor. He had been the first—and only—man I’d loved. "Right? He’s so handsome! I mean, they’re all attractive and hot, but for me, the best ones are the King and Guardian Quinn... Though the King, ugh, that man is pure fire. I’m torn—what do you think, Valeria? Would you prefer the King or Quinn?" Before I could scold her for talking so carelessly, her face turned pale, staring behind me in panic. A powerful presence pressed against my back, hot breath brushing against my ear. "I’d like to know too, Valeria. Who would you prefer? And why did you let another man touch what’s mine?" The basket in my hands begins to tremble along with my hands. I'm done for. And even though I know he’s talking about the towels, for some reason, it feels like he’s talking about me. "Ss… Sir..." "Get out!" he ordered Juliette, who looked at me for a second with guilt but had no choice but to flee almost running. I remained with my back to him. Could I run too? "I'm still waiting, Valeria. Tell me, are you unhappy with the position you were given? Would you prefer to be Quinn's personal maid instead? Turn around!"	LEARN_MORE	https://befant.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=18151&u	Galaxy in the Story	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	2,490	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	befant.com	VIDEO		https://befant.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=18151&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476187387_1003731381807991_741402415062940757_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Oal1ustGCO0Q7kNvgElNrXy&_nc_oc=Adim6wKAMx142yj2qdrJ3m5Cd1JdqrzdnyQk8FZk0ht-bNL5jjvuuKerJv83LxFjeT9YoX9X-KxKIYt91mIsV5GE&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Ah9Wfntwi91MzHk1K6IORDY&oh=00_AYDAS0TUBmdlJglraLm21YWOUwkZ3ucgqO2GMKH8WP0bgg&oe=67CBB729	PERSON_PROFILE	Galaxy in the Story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,756,969	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2756924}'	No	2025-03-03 12:18	active	2772	🔥🔥Click to read the next chapter for free👉	The brilliant lights in the hall dimmed, leaving a concentrated glow upon the stage. The bride and groom stood bathed in radiance—she in her flowing white gown, he in his impeccably tailored suit. They were the perfect picture of beauty and elegance. The background music shifted, rising into a crescendo, infusing the air with a palpable sense of excitement. The wedding ceremony had reached its peak. Deidre clasped her left hand over her right, her palms damp with sweat beneath the delicate white gloves. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest, each beat echoing like a drum in her ears. She was so nervous it felt as though her heart might leap into her throat. Her gaze settled on the man before her, a mix of elation and unease swirling within her. Micah Landon—one of Salve City's most eligible bachelors, heir to one of its most powerful families—was about to marry her. It felt surreal, like a fairy tale come to life. A Cinderella marrying her prince, with all the incredulity that entailed. Micah stood tall in his sharply cut suit, his handsome face composed, his demeanor radiating charm and distinction. The unframed glasses perched on his high-bridged nose softened the sharpness of his features, lending his eyes a gentle warmth that seemed deeper than usual. "And now, let's have the bride and groom exchange rings!" The emcee's voice was vibrant, his enthusiasm infectious. A poised bridesmaid stepped forward, carrying a tray with a red velvet base upon which the wedding rings rested. Micah's gaze lowered to the open ring box, and for a fleeting moment, his calm façade faltered. His gentle, smiling expression froze ever so slightly. The warmth and softness in his eyes disappeared entirely, replaced by an unfamiliar coldness. Deidre followed his gaze to the rings, her brow furrowing in confusion. These weren't the rings they had chosen together. What was going on? Micah's hand hovered over the ring box but didn't move to pick one up. An awkward pause settled over the ceremony. The emcee hesitated, his expression reflecting the growing tension in the room. Then a shout broke through the silence. "What's that on the screen?" Heads turned toward the massive display behind them. Deidre instinctively followed their gaze. The screen, which had been playing a slideshow of their sweet, romantic pre-wedding photos, now displayed a completely different set of images. The pictures still showed a man and a woman, but the man wasn't Micah. The first photo revealed Deidre being intimately embraced by a stranger outside a hotel. The next showed her leaning into the same man in a hotel room, their bodies close on a bed. The lively background music continued to play, a jarring contrast to the now stifling atmosphere. Whispers swept through the crowd, their eyes darting toward Deidre. Daring to humiliate Micah, the powerful and revered heir, on his wedding day? And this bride, from her modest family background, had the audacity to wear such a scandalous stain on her character? Deidre felt as if lightning had struck her. Panic surged through her as she snapped her gaze toward Micah. His attention was fixed on the screen. The light from the display reflected off his glasses, making it impossible for Deidre to discern his expression. But the tight line of his lips and the vein bulging at his temple revealed enough. A cold blade seemed to pierce her chest, twisting sharply. The once cheerful wedding music now felt like a cruel mockery. "Micah, I didn't—" Deidre started, her voice trembling. Micah's gaze finally shifted to her, his eyes icy and unreadable behind his glasses. The storm brewing in them made her heart sink further. "I…" She wanted to explain, but no words came. The images on the screen were a mystery to her. She had no memory of them, no explanation for their existence. Who would do this to her? Who would want to ruin her like this? Micah's expression grew colder, a mocking glint appearing in his eyes. He didn't say a word. Instead, he glanced at the bridesmaid holding the tray of rings. He picked up one of the rings, turned sharply, and walked away. "Micah, don't go!" Deidre cried, lifting the hem of her gown as she rushed after him. She grabbed his hand, desperate to stop him. He halted briefly, turning to look at her. His lips curved in a faint, mocking smile, his voice low and biting. "This wedding…" He trailed off, his gaze flicking back to the screen where yet another photo appeared—Deidre asleep in bed, her features serene. Beside her, the same stranger propped his head on one hand, gazing at her with a tenderness that seemed all too intimate. Micah's faint smirk turned into a derisive laugh. "…is off." Each word struck Deidre like an arrow, sinking deep into her heart and leaving a searing pain in their wake. He shook off her hand with enough force to send her stumbling backward. She staggered, unable to steady herself, and fell to the ground, her pristine white gown pooling around her like a defeated flag. Chapter 2 The wedding host, visibly flustered as the groom turned and walked away, hastily gestured to the sound engineer to cut the music. As the cheerful background tunes abruptly ceased, the atmosphere shifted, the murmur of the crowd swelling into an unabashed roar of judgment and speculation. "They've been engaged for over a year, and now this scene unfolds at the wedding? Utter humiliation," someone remarked loudly. "She looks so pure, doesn't she? But clearly, she's got other, shall we say, talents that hooked Micah. Guess she practiced those talents with plenty of others. Walk along the river long enough, and you'll get your feet wet. Someone probably got fed up and exposed her. Tsk, tsk." That particular comment sliced through the air like a shard of glass, sharp and cutting. "Nonsense! I didn't do any of that!" Deidre screamed, her voice raw with desperation. Her outburst only added fuel to the fire. None of the attendees spared her even a modicum of sympathy. They were there for the prestige of the Landon family. Now that she had been abandoned by Micah, who was she to them? A nobody, someone to ridicule without consequence. "Look at her, losing her temper. How unsightly." "Exactly. Instead of finding a hole to crawl into, she's still yelling at others." "Such shameless defiance. Playing the victim while pretending to be saintly—what a joke." "If my daughter ever turned out like this, I'd beat her to death." "Let's go. The wedding's clearly over." The voices piled up, overlapping in waves of cruelty. Deidre's head buzzed with a hollow static. None of it made sense. How had the day turned into this nightmare? No. It couldn't end like this. She slipped off her high heels, hoisting up the heavy layers of her wedding gown, and ran after Micah. Outside the hotel, Micah stood by the open door of his car, flipping through some documents. The sight of him brought a glimmer of hope to Deidre's heart, and she quickened her steps. "Micah!" she called out, her voice trembling with both fear and longing. His hand froze mid-turn, but he didn't look up. Tears welled in Deidre's reddened eyes. "How can you just leave me like this? How can you believe those photos without even hearing me out?" Micah finally lifted his gaze, his eyes cold and detached, like a winter wind slicing through her skin. "One week ago," he began, his voice steady but unyielding, "Westin Hotel, Room 309. Was it you?" The precision of his words hit her like a jolt. A specific time, a specific place—her memory stirred reluctantly to life. Her breath hitched as fragments resurfaced. She had been there. It was her sister Valerie's 18th birthday party, and they'd forced a bottle of whiskey down her throat. The next thing she remembered was waking up alone in that hotel room with a splitting headache. The images from the wedding screen replayed in her mind, overlapping with her fragmented recollection. Could it be? But no—when she had woken up that morning, she was alone. There had been no one else, she was sure of it. Her silence spoke volumes. "Can't answer, can you?" Micah's voice dripped with disdain, dragging her back to the present. "I was there, yes, but—" she began, desperate to explain. "Spare me your excuses," he cut her off icily. He thrust the documents in his hand toward her. "Take a good look. No one's an idiot here." Mechanically, Deidre accepted them, her hands trembling. Her eyes skimmed over the pages—photographs, so many photographs. Many were the same ones that had been displayed on the wedding screen, but these… these included more. Her breath caught in her throat. Among the images, her sister Valerie appeared too, unmistakably linked to the events captured. "This isn't real," Deidre stammered. "I'll call Valerie—she'll explain. This is all a misunderstanding. That night—she—" Her frantic words were abruptly silenced as Micah seized her chin, forcing her to look at him. "It's over, Deidre," he said quietly. His gaze locked onto hers, unyielding. She saw her own desperation reflected in the lenses of his frameless glasses, his eyes devoid of warmth or mercy. His voice dropped to a chilling whisper. "If only you'd stayed obedient. But there are no 'if onlys.' You hid it well these past two years. I almost believed in you, fooled by that face of yours. But you're tainted. In the end, it was my mistake for thinking you could ever compare to her." Her mind stumbled over his words, catching on one fragment: "Her." Who was he talking about? Before she could grasp it, Micah let out a bitter laugh. With his free hand, he pulled a ring box from his pocket, opening it with a flick of his thumb. Chapter 3 Deidre recognized the wedding ring—it was the same unfamiliar one that had appeared earlier at the ceremony. Micah's voice broke through the heavy air, low and dripping with disdain. "You're not worthy of this ring." Her heart shuddered at his words, and pain flared across her jaw as he harshly released her. Without so much as a glance back, he stepped into the car, slamming the door shut with finality. His expression remained cold as he instructed the driver, "Drive." Desperate, Deidre chased after the car, her bare feet burning against the scorching pavement. The southern Salve City was in the grip of a relentless summer heat, but she barely noticed. The pain in her feet seemed distant, insignificant compared to the ache in her chest. She ran with abandon, her cumbersome wedding gown tangling around her legs, until she tripped and fell hard onto the unforgiving ground. Her knees and elbows scraped against the rough asphalt, bleeding slightly. She looked utterly disheveled, a far cry from the radiant bride she had been moments ago. The driver, catching sight of her pitiful state in the rearview mirror, hesitated. His foot eased off the gas, and he ventured cautiously, "Young Master Micah, Miss Deidre is—" "Did you not understand what I said earlier?" Micah's tone was sharp, cutting. "Yes, sir!" The driver stiffened, not daring to say another word. He pressed harder on the accelerator, and the car sped away. For a fleeting moment, Deidre thought she saw the car slow down. A glimmer of hope ignited in her eyes. But it was gone as quickly as it came. The car roared forward, disappearing into the distance, leaving her behind. She sat where she had fallen, her meticulously applied bridal makeup now smeared and ruined. The oppressive summer sun bore down on her, but she didn't care. Perhaps if her body suffered enough, her heart might hurt a little less. The sound of approaching heels broke through her haze. A shadow loomed over her, and Deidre slowly looked up to see Casey Landon standing before her, her elegant face frosty with disdain. Casey crouched down, bringing their gazes level. Her lips curled into a cold smile as she produced her phone, unlocking it and flipping through her photo album. She held it out for Deidre to see. "Take a good look. This is my brother's first love." Deidre's face drained of color the moment her eyes landed on the photo. The girl in the picture was young, no older than eighteen or nineteen. Her delicate features radiated joy, her hand raised in a playful gesture that highlighted the ring on her slender finger—a ring identical to the one Micah had just dismissed as unworthy of Deidre. Her breath caught. The resemblance was uncanny. The girl's eyes, especially, bore a startling similarity to her own. "This photo," Casey said coolly, "is why my brother took an interest in you." Deidre's mind reeled. 'You're not worthy of this ring.' Micah's words came rushing back, sharper than ever. "So, I'm… her—" Deidre began, her voice trembling. "Her replacement," Casey finished mercilessly. Her tone was detached, but each syllable landed like a dagger to Deidre's heart. "No… that can't be," Deidre murmured, her voice barely audible. Yet her body betrayed her denial, trembling uncontrollably. Though the summer heat was oppressive, she felt as if she had been plunged into an icy abyss. She was a joke. Right from the start, she had been nothing more than a substitute. Casey watched Deidre descent into despair with evident satisfaction, though her anger hadn't quite abated. She raised her hand and struck Deidre across the face. The slap echoed sharply. Deidre's head snapped to the side, her cheek instantly stinging with heat. A vivid red mark bloomed across her pale skin, the outline of fingers clear and unrelenting. "Today, you humiliated my brother in front of everyone," Casey said coldly. "You turned this wedding into the laughingstock of the entire Salve City's elite. You should be thankful my parents left in disgust early on. If they were still here, you wouldn't have gotten off with just a slap." Deidre bit her lip, the metallic taste of blood filling her mouth. Slowly, she turned her face back to Casey, her eyes red-rimmed but resolute. Tears welled up but refused to fall. "I didn't do anything to betray him," she said through clenched teeth. "Spare me the pitiful act," Casey sneered. "Who do you think you're fooling?" Her disgust was unmistakable, simmering just beneath the surface. She straightened, slipping her phone back into her pocket. With a final disdainful glance, she added, "You're just a shameless woman clinging to lies and excuses. Disgusting." Without another word, Casey turned on her heel and walked away. Chapter 4 The reporters had trailed after Micah's car for a good while, hoping to intercept him, but when it became clear that their efforts were futile, they shifted their attention. Like a tidal wave, they surged toward Deidre instead. Vincent Winsley, who had also rushed out, caught sight of Deidre slumped on the ground, her hair disheveled, her expression blank. A surge of fury erupted within him. "You've disgraced me completely!" he spat, his teeth clenched in rage. Without waiting for a response, he stormed over and yanked her up forcefully. Deidre stumbled as he dragged her toward the parking lot, his movements sharp and brimming with frustration. Like a discarded, soulless rag doll, Deidre let herself be shoved into the car. Her mind was elsewhere, caught in an unending loop of Micah's cold words and Casey's venomous taunts. A replacement. The phrase clung to her, refusing to loosen its grip. Deidre's lips curled into a silent, bitter smile. Of course. It all made sense now. No wonder Micah had believed those photos, no wonder he had so readily embraced such absurd accusations. Trust? There had never been any between them. How could there be trust when all along, he had seen her as someone else? To him, she was merely a shadow, an echo of his lost love. A stand-in needed no trust—only convenience. When she no longer suited his mood, he could cast her aside without hesitation, without remorse. After all, she was just a replacement. Nothing more. For two whole years, she had been ensnared in the illusion of Micah's tenderness, his feigned affection. Even until this very day, she had dared to dream of a future together, of growing old by his side. But now, the illusion was shattered. The truth lay bare, unrelenting in its cruelty. She was nothing but a substitute. And if she had paid closer attention, she might have seen it all along. The signs were there. The way Micah would often stare at her, lost in thought—as if seeing through her, seeing someone else entirely. The pain clawed at her chest, raw and relentless. Why? Why did Micah have to do this to her? Just because she happened to resemble his first love? Did that alone condemn her to this undeserved heartbreak, this torment? "You still have the audacity to cry after committing such shameless acts!" Her father's enraged scolding pierced her thoughts. Deidre didn't even have the strength to argue anymore. Exhaustion weighed down every fiber of her being. She closed her eyes, letting the tears fall silently. But behind her closed lids, she couldn't stop the image from resurfacing—Micah's cold, disdainful gaze, those eyes filled with nothing but contempt. Again and again, the memory replayed, refusing to fade. Her heart felt as though it were being torn apart, over and over, each tear exposing fresh wounds, each wound bleeding pain she couldn't contain. … The moment Deidre stepped into the house, pushed forward by Vincent, she stumbled through the doorway into the entryway. As soon as the door clicked shut, his palm came down hard across her face. It struck the same spot Casey had hit earlier—her left cheek—and the sharp sting of pain flared up once more, searing and numb all at once. Deidre's expression didn't even flicker. She had no tears left to shed; the journey home had wrung her dry. All that remained was the dull ache behind her eyes. She stood there like a wooden doll, her gaze hollow and detached, staring at Vincent without truly seeing him. "How dare you humiliate the Landon family like this? How dare you cheat on Micah!" he roared. There was no questioning, no attempt to understand—just an immediate verdict of guilt, a judgment passed without trial. This was her father, Vincent. He had always been like this. The rage that had been simmering within him on the way home boiled over entirely now, erupting with full force. He raised his hand again, his voice thunderous. "I'll beat you to death today. That way, the Landon family won't come after me for this disgrace!" Deidre didn't move. She didn't even flinch. She knew better than to try. It wouldn't make a difference. Another slap landed squarely on her cheek, hard and unrelenting. The pain was distant now, buried under layers of numbness. Her expression remained as lifeless as before. "Look at you! Always that dead, useless look!" Her passive indifference only fueled Vincent's anger further, like oil thrown onto an open flame. His veins bulged at his neck, his face twisted with fury. "Fine! I'll end your life right here!" He glanced around, his eyes landing on a shoehorn resting by the entryway. He grabbed it without hesitation and swung it at her. Blow after blow rained down on her, relentless and furious. The shoehorn struck her arms, leaving bright red welts on her pale skin, each mark stark and startling against its canvas. The door opened again, and Kiera Winsley, her stepmother, appeared. She took in the scene, her voice laced with feigned concern as she exclaimed, "What's going on here? Why are you hitting Deidre?" "Stay out of it!" Vincent snapped, his grip tightening on the shoehorn. "This disgraceful wretch deserves it. end her life would be doing us all a favor." "Now, now," Kiera replied, stepping between Vincent and Deidre, her tone calm yet firm. "She's still your daughter. You can't say things like that." Her words seemed protective, but her eyes betrayed her indifference. There wasn't the faintest glimmer of worry in them. Deidre's gaze drifted to the silhouette of Kiera standing in front of her, shielding her from further blows. For the first time in what felt like forever, her empty eyes focused again. Her voice, hoarse and strained, broke the silence. "Where's Valerie?" Kiera blinked, startled by the unexpected question. She hesitated for a moment before responding, "Your sister and brother took a different car. They'll be home soon." Deidre said nothing more. Without another word, she turned and walked toward the living room. "Look at her! Look at the way she acts!" Vincent fumed behind her, his rage still simmering. Kiera stepped closer to him, her voice soothing as she tried to calm him down. But even as she murmured words of comfort, her gaze followed Deidre, scrutinizing her retreating figure with a calculating glint in her eyes. Chapter 5 After a long string of coaxing and placating, Kiera finally managed to calm Vincent's seething anger to a simmer. She tugged at his arm, steering him towards their room to change out of the formal attire they'd worn for the wedding. As they reached the stairs, Kiera glanced back and saw Deidre sitting quietly on the living room sofa. Her gaze was fixed on the front door, unblinking, her expression unreadable but for the faint furrow in her brows. Kiera hesitated, then called out, "Deidre, go change into something else, won't you?" Deidre didn't move. It was as if her ears had turned deaf to the sound of her stepmother's voice. "That girl's just like her mother—a cursed woman through and through!" Vincent spat as he ascended the stairs. "What bad luck it's been to have a daughter like that!" Deidre's eyes flickered for a moment, a ripple disturbing their stillness. Her hands clenched tightly, nails digging into her palms. It wasn't long before Valerie and Johnny returned. The atmosphere in the house had barely settled when their chatter filled the space again. "What a disaster today turned out to be," Valerie muttered as she stepped inside, slipping off her shoes. She paid no attention to the figure rising slowly from the living room sofa. "I told you from the beginning—this match was doomed from the start. Why force it? Marrying into wealth, what a joke..." Johnny trailed behind her, nodding absentmindedly as she spoke. But before she could take another step, she found herself face-to-face with Deidre. Startled, Valerie took a step back, her eyes scanning the figure before her. Deidre stood there in her wedding dress—filthy, tattered, with her hair in disarray. The left side of her pale face was swollen. For a brief moment, Valerie froze, as though she'd seen a ghost. Then her expression twisted into irritation. "What are you doing, standing there looking like that? Trying to scare someone to death?" Deidre's voice was calm, so calm it was unnerving. "It was you, wasn't it? On your eighteenth birthday, you forced me to drink, sent me to that hotel. And the pictures on the wedding screen—those were your doing too." The tone carried no inflection, just a straightforward certainty. It wasn't a question. It was a fact laid bare. Valerie faltered, her bravado wavering under Deidre's steady gaze. "You… I…" Her voice stumbled, and her eyes darted away, the guilt she tried to suppress bubbling to the surface. Before she could stammer out a denial, Deidre's hand moved swiftly. The slap landed on Valerie's cheek. Johnny snapped to attention, rushing forward to push Deidre away. "Don't hit my sister!" Johnny shouted, his fourteen-year-old frame trembling with indignation. The shove was forceful, and Deidre stumbled back several steps before regaining her balance. Valerie, clutching her cheek, finally processed what had happened. Her shock quickly morphed into rage. "Even Dad has never hit me! How dare you?!" she shrieked, rushing toward Deidre with hands outstretched, aiming for her face. But Deidre caught her by the wrist, her grip unyielding. Another slap followed, sharp and deliberate. Her voice, low and icy, cut through the chaos. "You deserve it." "You… you hit me again?!" Valerie's voice cracked into a wail. But before she could retaliate, Deidre's hand moved for the third time, another slap echoing in the room. "Stop hitting Valerie, you useless freak!" Johnny yelled. He rushed over, intending to help his older sister. But when his eyes met Deidre's gaze, he froze. As a fourteen-year-old boy who had been pampered his whole life, he had never seen anyone with such a murderous look in their eyes. Terrified, he hesitated. "Stop it this instant!" Kiera's voice rang out as she descended the stairs, her heels clacking rapidly against the steps. Her sharp eyes took in the scene—her daughter red-faced and wailing, Deidre standing unmoved, cold as stone. "How dare you hit your sister? Have you lost your mind?" Vincent wasn't far behind, his fury reignited at the sight of his precious daughter's reddened cheeks. He stormed down the stairs, his voice shaking with anger. "Hitting your sister like this? I'll end you life myself!" Deidre watched them all—the righteous fury on her father's face, the manufactured concern in her stepmother's eyes, and the unbridled hatred radiating from Valerie. Her chest tightened, the ache so deep it numbed her. Valerie broke through the cacophony with a scream, her voice shrill with rage. "Yes! I did it! I made you drunk that night and sent you to that hotel! And those photos on the screen—I had those taken! You think you deserve to marry into wealth? You're nothing! A crow pretending to be a phoenix—know your place!" Chapter 6 Vincent had been spewing curses at Deidre just moments ago, but upon hearing Valerie's confession, his lips pressed into a rare, tight line. He said nothing. Deidre let out a derisive laugh, her gaze shifting from Valerie to settle on her father. "You heard her, didn't you? You know now who orchestrated today's wedding fiasco. Weren't you so eager to beat me to death earlier? Why aren't you laying a hand on Valerie now?" Vincent remained still, his brows furrowing deeper as he finally spoke. "She's your sister. Watch your tone." "And when she humiliated me in front of an entire banquet hall, did she ever stop to think that I was her sister?" Deidre's voice cracked as she shouted, her anger no longer contained. "She's your daughter. Am I not your daughter, too?" "You're the older one. You should let her have her way," Vincent said, as if his words were carved in stone. "Yes, that's always your answer. Whenever there's a conflict between me and Valerie, you tell me I'm the older one, so I have to give in to her," Deidre said quietly now, her tone steeped in irony. She stood a few steps away, staring at the four people before her, her eyes cold, filled with disdain. Her mother had passed away before she was old enough to form memories. Not long after, Vincent had remarried, bringing Kiera into their home. With her came Valerie and Johnny. In the suffocating silence that followed, Deidre let out a bitter laugh. "I'm just an outsider, aren't I? You're the real family here." Her words pierced through the thin veneer of harmony that had barely held their household together. It shattered like glass. "What kind of look is that? Don't forget, I'm your father!" Vincent barked, enraged by the unmasked contempt in Deidre's eyes. "Following the passing of your mother, you ate my food, wore the clothes I bought. Did you call yourself an outsider then? Don't think earning a scholarship every year makes you someone special. If you're so capable, get out of this house right now and see how far you get without my support! Starve for all I care—just don't come crawling back!" Kiera's eyes gleamed at his words, though her tone remained measured, even gentle. "Why say such harsh things? Deidre is only twenty, and she's still in university. You can't talk to a child like that." Turning to Deidre, she added with a hypocritical kindness, "Deidre, don't take your father's words to heart. Apologize and make peace." "Fine," Deidre replied curtly. Her compliance startled Kiera, who hesitated, unsure what to make of it. This girl had never shown her any respect before, and now, all of a sudden, she was so obedient? The thought didn't sit well. If Deidre were truly driven out of the house, Kiera would no longer have to keep up the facade of a benevolent stepmother. Yet, despite herself, she felt unsettled, as if she had just swallowed a fly. Vincent was equally taken aback by his daughter's uncharacteristic acquiescence. He paused, his expression softening slightly. Clearing his throat, he assumed a more commanding tone. "The matter with the photos at the wedding—Valerie is still young and made a mistake. You've already hit her. Let's put it behind us. If you've done nothing to wrong the Landon family, find a time to clear things up and reschedule the wedding." Running a construction materials company, Vincent's business had been thriving, especially with the Landon family connection. A marriage alliance with the Landons would secure even greater opportunities. Naturally, he hoped Deidre would still marry into that family. The thought of returning the Landon family's generous bride price gnawed at him. That money alone had already covered the cost of raising Deidre for twenty years, and then some. It could ever cover her living costs for another forty years. The idea of losing it was unbearable. "You were engaged to Micah a year ago," he continued, his voice laced with warning. "You've been a part of the Landon family ever since. If they decide they don't want you after this mess, don't think anyone else will have you." "Reschedule the wedding?" Deidre repeated, as though the suggestion was the most absurd thing she'd ever heard. She began to laugh—a deep, bitter laugh that only grew louder, carrying with it a sadness so profound it filled the room. This was her father. A man so blinded by favoritism, he had lost all sense of reason. "What are you laughing at?" Vincent snapped, his brows knitting together tightly. Chapter 7 "I'd rather never get married in this lifetime than marry Micah. Never!" Deidre stopped laughing, her face freezing over, her voice sharp: "I think you've misunderstood something. When I said 'fine,' I meant I'll leave this house, and you can all go ahead and live your happy little lives." Since middle school, Deidre had been a boarding student, and the bond between her and her father, Vincent, had always been tenuous. The estrangement between them was as thin as the paper separating two worlds. In a blended family, when there are children from previous marriages, someone always ends up hurt. Vincent's fatherly love had been doled out almost entirely to his other children, Valerie and Johnny, leaving only the scraps for her. It was like charity, barely a gesture. Now, standing on the edge of her limits, she had had enough. Absolutely enough. "Fine! Fine then!" Vincent, enraged, his face contorted, pointed toward the door and bellowed, "I'll cut ties with you today! Get out! Get out of this house—now!" "Don't worry, I'm leaving." The deepest sorrow wasn't in the confrontation itself but in the stillness that followed it. Deidre had imagined this moment countless times, but now that it was happening, she felt a strange tranquility—almost a sense of release. Like her presence in this house had always been superfluous, an eyesore. She should have left long ago. Calmly, Deidre turned and went upstairs to her room to pack her things. Kiera, thrilled on the inside, masked her joy with an expression of feigned concern and helplessness. She muttered, "Don't be so upset. Why argue with a twenty-year-old? I'll go check on her." When Valerie heard Deidre's words, the sting of the slap on her face lightened. A wicked smile spread across her face, and sweetly, she said, "Dad, you still have me. I'll be a good daughter from now on." Vincent had been angry with Valerie earlier, but seeing her with that slap mark on her face, now with her pitiful, submissive expression, all the anger drained away. His tone softened as he looked at her, a far cry from the venomous words he had thrown at Deidre. He spoke gently, as a father would to a daughter he cherished, his voice full of indulgence. "Yes, having you is enough, my dear." Johnny watched Deidre walk up the stairs, his face contorted with disdain and contempt. This burden had been long overdue to leave. Upstairs, Deidre entered her room, changed out of the wedding dress, and began packing her suitcase. She heard footsteps stop at the door. Turning, she saw Kiera leaning against the doorframe, a smile plastered on her face. It was clear to Deidre that Kiera's smile was full of unmasked triumph, as if her goal had been achieved. "You don't need to stand there. Don't worry, I won't take anything valuable." Kiera chuckled lightly. "What valuable things could you even have in this room? Compared to Valerie's, yours is barely furnished. Take whatever you want—it's all just the last little bit of charity our family has given you." Deidre eyed Kiera for a moment, then silently walked past her and slammed the door shut. Kiera raised an eyebrow, unfazed by the gesture. Her mood was too good to argue with the brat now. She turned, adopting a concerned expression, and went downstairs. … Inside the room, Deidre slid down to the floor, leaning against the door, her eyes closed, her face etched with sorrow. From this moment on, she would be alone. She was only twenty, but why did it feel as though she had already lived an entire life? She didn't want to stay in Salve City anymore. She needed to leave, to disappear far away. But now, she had no money. Where could she go? Would she ask Vincent for money? She had to keep living, to prove to everyone who had mocked her that one day, she would slap their faces with her achievements. But what other choice did she have? How could she escape this place, this city, if not through death? Her eyes still closed, Deidre's mind scrambled through every possible future, searching for some shred of hope. Then, suddenly, a thought flashed through her mind. She opened her eyes, her gaze trembling slightly. Perhaps she still had one chance left. She stood up, found her phone, and dialed her mentor's number. After a few beeps, the call was answered, and her mentor's voice, warm with a smile, came through the receiver. "Deidre?" "It's me, Professor." Deidre's voice was hoarse. "Congratulations on your wedding today. If I hadn't been abroad for an academic exchange this week, I would have definitely come to your wedding." Deidre's throat tightened, her nose burning. Her voice cracked as she responded, "Professor, I… I want to ask you something." "Go ahead." Deidre took a deep breath, summoning all the strength she had left before speaking, "Is it… possible for me to reclaim my study-abroad spot?" There was a pause on the other end of the line, followed by her mentor's surprised voice. "Didn't you say you were planning to stay in Salve City after marriage? What's changed? Has your husband agreed to it?" The wedding had been canceled. She didn't have a husband. Deidre barely managed a smile, her lips twitching silently, before speaking as calmly as she could. "No… I just think the opportunity to study abroad with a full scholarship is too rare." "Yes, it is. There are only three spots in the whole school, and you were the top choice. You know, for your field—finance—the offers from top international universities are extremely precious. This means you could stay in a foreign country and work there after graduation." Deidre opened her mouth but couldn't find the words. What was there to say? She had given up a brilliant future for a man she had believed was her one true love, only to end up as a fool, tossed aside in a fleeting illusion. "Deidre?" Her mentor's voice cut through the silence, noticing the quiet on the other end. "Professor, is there still a chance?" "Well, that's hard to say. The spot you gave up has already been filled by someone else." Deidre bit her lip, and the sharp pain in her mouth made her bite down harder, blood filling her mouth. She gripped the phone tightly, her voice laced with desperation. "Really... no chance at all?" Chapter 8 It seemed that the professor had sensed the unease in Deidre's voice. After a moment, the warm, familiar tone of her mentor returned over the phone. "There could still be a chance. Let me make a call and try to secure it for you." Deidre had always been a top student. Even though she hadn't finished high school, she had been exempted from exams and directly enrolled in the prestigious university in Salve City, completing both her undergraduate and master's degrees in one continuous stretch. Her mentor, who had always kept a close eye on such promising talent, was not one to let someone like Deidre miss out on such an opportunity. "Thank you. I'll wait for your call," Deidre said, her fingers tightening around the phone, turning pale as she bit down hard on her lower lip. Her heart pounded, the anxiety spreading like fire. She waited for an answer. Each second dragged on painfully, like she was being fried alive in a pan. She gripped her phone, staring at the screen, willing it to bring some resolution. Finally, the screen lit up. It was a call from her mentor. With a nervous breath, Deidre answered. "Good news," came the professor's voice. "A spot's available, and it's yours. Deidre, cherish this opportunity. Remember, no matter what others do, your future is yours to hold in your hands. That's the safest bet." Tears welled up in Deidre's eyes, and she started to cry, her joy so overwhelming that it spilled out of her like a river. She bit her lip, trying to control her shaking voice, and spoke each word slowly and deliberately. "Thank you... Thank you, Professor." "Alright, we'll talk later. I've got a lecture to begin." The screen darkened as the call ended, and Deidre, eyes still brimming with tears, looked out the window. Through her blurred vision, she could make out the faint blue sky, the soft white clouds. The vast expanse of the heavens stretched out before her. There was a way after all. The road had not been completely closed off. … Time passed swiftly. Seven years slipped by unnoticed. In Zemenia City, a bustling commercial hub neighboring Salve City, the evening descended, and the lights flickered on in their dazzling array. In the heart of this prime real estate stood the prestigious Wilton Grand Hotel, a symbol of high society, where the city's elite gathered for their business soirées. Outside the hotel, a barrier of security personnel kept the press at bay, forcing the journalists to crane their necks, helplessly watching the spectacle from a distance. This particular business banquet, however, was by invitation only. Among the luxury cars parked outside, one stood out above the rest: a limited-edition car, the kind that only the ultra-wealthy could afford. Its gleaming body spun gracefully before coming to a halt right in front of the hotel, catching the attention of all those gathered. The door to the driver's side opened, and the man who emerged was dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, the kind that made his figure appear long and sharp. He pushed up his rimless glasses, and his finely chiseled face caught the light, his lips curving into the faintest of smiles. His eyes shimmered behind the lenses, and the sight instantly drew gasps of admiration from the women in the crowd. "That's Micah Landon from the Landon Group in Salve City, isn't it?" "He's even more handsome and refined in person than in his photos!" Micah glanced around, his gaze cool and detached, masking a momentary flicker of impatience. A smile, barely perceptible, touched his lips as he adjusted the buttons of his suit jacket, walking swiftly around the car to open the door to the passenger side. A slender, pale hand emerged from the car, resting lightly on Micah's arm as a woman gracefully stepped out. Her custom-made gown, an extravagant piece from this season's collection, hugged her slender form. She smiled as she looked up, her face radiant with the kind of poise that made everyone around her hold their breath. The man was elegant, the woman, stunning. They were the perfect picture of grace and beauty, drawing all eyes. "Look! A limited-edition extended Luxury car! My goodness!" The crowd's attention quickly shifted from Micah and the woman beside him to the new arrival. Micah, too, turned his gaze in response to the sound. Soon, a tall, imposing figure emerged from the luxury car. As he looked closer, Micah recognized the man immediately—Connor Halls, the young heir to the Halls family from a country called Milwarke. But just as quickly, Micah's gaze turned to one of astonishment. Standing by the car, the distinguished and handsome man offered a gentlemanly smile, bending slightly as he extended his hand. From the extended luxury car, a graceful woman emerged. Her delicate arm raised, her soft hand resting in Connor's as she descended. Her gown, a hand-crafted European design, clung to her figure, accentuating every curve, while the blue fabric highlighted her fair skin. The simple pearl necklace around her neck caught the light, and Micah—being an expert in jewelry design—immediately recognized it: a rare, limited-edition piece by renowned European designer Laire, a treasure impossible to acquire. But all Micah could feel was shock, as the woman's appearance completely stole his attention. How could it be her? A ripple of whispers spread through the crowd as people wondered about the identity of this poised and beautiful woman. Micah's gaze finally fixed on her face, her flawless features, the delicate oval of her face framed by perfect makeup.	LEARN_MORE	https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=17042&ut	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	375	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	beokn.com	IMAGE		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=17042&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/474536044_1185060709716169_4272383705700783327_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=VmPxUVfNg44Q7kNvgE-WXln&_nc_oc=AdhUHkGXMesy990d3QMj5qeCIbnk4cnVxRtsMvE5qAIBrv7NZehIFbN9o2PCowI--N8yvoZiSMdbeboUYCmt-ShM&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A0u7ms-zhUQ5fxVZ-sqxD69&oh=00_AYBSvGDfhOX2QL3jaoYKQzJfcJj7hnHu6IWxNYqJfO1H3Q&oe=67CBD49C	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,756,975	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2756924}'	Yes	2025-03-03 12:18	active	2772	🔥🔥Click to read the next chapter for free👉	The brilliant lights in the hall dimmed, leaving a concentrated glow upon the stage. The bride and groom stood bathed in radiance—she in her flowing white gown, he in his impeccably tailored suit. They were the perfect picture of beauty and elegance. The background music shifted, rising into a crescendo, infusing the air with a palpable sense of excitement. The wedding ceremony had reached its peak. Deidre clasped her left hand over her right, her palms damp with sweat beneath the delicate white gloves. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest, each beat echoing like a drum in her ears. She was so nervous it felt as though her heart might leap into her throat. Her gaze settled on the man before her, a mix of elation and unease swirling within her. Micah Landon—one of Salve City's most eligible bachelors, heir to one of its most powerful families—was about to marry her. It felt surreal, like a fairy tale come to life. A Cinderella marrying her prince, with all the incredulity that entailed. Micah stood tall in his sharply cut suit, his handsome face composed, his demeanor radiating charm and distinction. The unframed glasses perched on his high-bridged nose softened the sharpness of his features, lending his eyes a gentle warmth that seemed deeper than usual. "And now, let's have the bride and groom exchange rings!" The emcee's voice was vibrant, his enthusiasm infectious. A poised bridesmaid stepped forward, carrying a tray with a red velvet base upon which the wedding rings rested. Micah's gaze lowered to the open ring box, and for a fleeting moment, his calm façade faltered. His gentle, smiling expression froze ever so slightly. The warmth and softness in his eyes disappeared entirely, replaced by an unfamiliar coldness. Deidre followed his gaze to the rings, her brow furrowing in confusion. These weren't the rings they had chosen together. What was going on? Micah's hand hovered over the ring box but didn't move to pick one up. An awkward pause settled over the ceremony. The emcee hesitated, his expression reflecting the growing tension in the room. Then a shout broke through the silence. "What's that on the screen?" Heads turned toward the massive display behind them. Deidre instinctively followed their gaze. The screen, which had been playing a slideshow of their sweet, romantic pre-wedding photos, now displayed a completely different set of images. The pictures still showed a man and a woman, but the man wasn't Micah. The first photo revealed Deidre being intimately embraced by a stranger outside a hotel. The next showed her leaning into the same man in a hotel room, their bodies close on a bed. The lively background music continued to play, a jarring contrast to the now stifling atmosphere. Whispers swept through the crowd, their eyes darting toward Deidre. Daring to humiliate Micah, the powerful and revered heir, on his wedding day? And this bride, from her modest family background, had the audacity to wear such a scandalous stain on her character? Deidre felt as if lightning had struck her. Panic surged through her as she snapped her gaze toward Micah. His attention was fixed on the screen. The light from the display reflected off his glasses, making it impossible for Deidre to discern his expression. But the tight line of his lips and the vein bulging at his temple revealed enough. A cold blade seemed to pierce her chest, twisting sharply. The once cheerful wedding music now felt like a cruel mockery. "Micah, I didn't—" Deidre started, her voice trembling. Micah's gaze finally shifted to her, his eyes icy and unreadable behind his glasses. The storm brewing in them made her heart sink further. "I…" She wanted to explain, but no words came. The images on the screen were a mystery to her. She had no memory of them, no explanation for their existence. Who would do this to her? Who would want to ruin her like this? Micah's expression grew colder, a mocking glint appearing in his eyes. He didn't say a word. Instead, he glanced at the bridesmaid holding the tray of rings. He picked up one of the rings, turned sharply, and walked away. "Micah, don't go!" Deidre cried, lifting the hem of her gown as she rushed after him. She grabbed his hand, desperate to stop him. He halted briefly, turning to look at her. His lips curved in a faint, mocking smile, his voice low and biting. "This wedding…" He trailed off, his gaze flicking back to the screen where yet another photo appeared—Deidre asleep in bed, her features serene. Beside her, the same stranger propped his head on one hand, gazing at her with a tenderness that seemed all too intimate. Micah's faint smirk turned into a derisive laugh. "…is off." Each word struck Deidre like an arrow, sinking deep into her heart and leaving a searing pain in their wake. He shook off her hand with enough force to send her stumbling backward. She staggered, unable to steady herself, and fell to the ground, her pristine white gown pooling around her like a defeated flag. Chapter 2 The wedding host, visibly flustered as the groom turned and walked away, hastily gestured to the sound engineer to cut the music. As the cheerful background tunes abruptly ceased, the atmosphere shifted, the murmur of the crowd swelling into an unabashed roar of judgment and speculation. "They've been engaged for over a year, and now this scene unfolds at the wedding? Utter humiliation," someone remarked loudly. "She looks so pure, doesn't she? But clearly, she's got other, shall we say, talents that hooked Micah. Guess she practiced those talents with plenty of others. Walk along the river long enough, and you'll get your feet wet. Someone probably got fed up and exposed her. Tsk, tsk." That particular comment sliced through the air like a shard of glass, sharp and cutting. "Nonsense! I didn't do any of that!" Deidre screamed, her voice raw with desperation. Her outburst only added fuel to the fire. None of the attendees spared her even a modicum of sympathy. They were there for the prestige of the Landon family. Now that she had been abandoned by Micah, who was she to them? A nobody, someone to ridicule without consequence. "Look at her, losing her temper. How unsightly." "Exactly. Instead of finding a hole to crawl into, she's still yelling at others." "Such shameless defiance. Playing the victim while pretending to be saintly—what a joke." "If my daughter ever turned out like this, I'd beat her to death." "Let's go. The wedding's clearly over." The voices piled up, overlapping in waves of cruelty. Deidre's head buzzed with a hollow static. None of it made sense. How had the day turned into this nightmare? No. It couldn't end like this. She slipped off her high heels, hoisting up the heavy layers of her wedding gown, and ran after Micah. Outside the hotel, Micah stood by the open door of his car, flipping through some documents. The sight of him brought a glimmer of hope to Deidre's heart, and she quickened her steps. "Micah!" she called out, her voice trembling with both fear and longing. His hand froze mid-turn, but he didn't look up. Tears welled in Deidre's reddened eyes. "How can you just leave me like this? How can you believe those photos without even hearing me out?" Micah finally lifted his gaze, his eyes cold and detached, like a winter wind slicing through her skin. "One week ago," he began, his voice steady but unyielding, "Westin Hotel, Room 309. Was it you?" The precision of his words hit her like a jolt. A specific time, a specific place—her memory stirred reluctantly to life. Her breath hitched as fragments resurfaced. She had been there. It was her sister Valerie's 18th birthday party, and they'd forced a bottle of whiskey down her throat. The next thing she remembered was waking up alone in that hotel room with a splitting headache. The images from the wedding screen replayed in her mind, overlapping with her fragmented recollection. Could it be? But no—when she had woken up that morning, she was alone. There had been no one else, she was sure of it. Her silence spoke volumes. "Can't answer, can you?" Micah's voice dripped with disdain, dragging her back to the present. "I was there, yes, but—" she began, desperate to explain. "Spare me your excuses," he cut her off icily. He thrust the documents in his hand toward her. "Take a good look. No one's an idiot here." Mechanically, Deidre accepted them, her hands trembling. Her eyes skimmed over the pages—photographs, so many photographs. Many were the same ones that had been displayed on the wedding screen, but these… these included more. Her breath caught in her throat. Among the images, her sister Valerie appeared too, unmistakably linked to the events captured. "This isn't real," Deidre stammered. "I'll call Valerie—she'll explain. This is all a misunderstanding. That night—she—" Her frantic words were abruptly silenced as Micah seized her chin, forcing her to look at him. "It's over, Deidre," he said quietly. His gaze locked onto hers, unyielding. She saw her own desperation reflected in the lenses of his frameless glasses, his eyes devoid of warmth or mercy. His voice dropped to a chilling whisper. "If only you'd stayed obedient. But there are no 'if onlys.' You hid it well these past two years. I almost believed in you, fooled by that face of yours. But you're tainted. In the end, it was my mistake for thinking you could ever compare to her." Her mind stumbled over his words, catching on one fragment: "Her." Who was he talking about? Before she could grasp it, Micah let out a bitter laugh. With his free hand, he pulled a ring box from his pocket, opening it with a flick of his thumb. Chapter 3 Deidre recognized the wedding ring—it was the same unfamiliar one that had appeared earlier at the ceremony. Micah's voice broke through the heavy air, low and dripping with disdain. "You're not worthy of this ring." Her heart shuddered at his words, and pain flared across her jaw as he harshly released her. Without so much as a glance back, he stepped into the car, slamming the door shut with finality. His expression remained cold as he instructed the driver, "Drive." Desperate, Deidre chased after the car, her bare feet burning against the scorching pavement. The southern Salve City was in the grip of a relentless summer heat, but she barely noticed. The pain in her feet seemed distant, insignificant compared to the ache in her chest. She ran with abandon, her cumbersome wedding gown tangling around her legs, until she tripped and fell hard onto the unforgiving ground. Her knees and elbows scraped against the rough asphalt, bleeding slightly. She looked utterly disheveled, a far cry from the radiant bride she had been moments ago. The driver, catching sight of her pitiful state in the rearview mirror, hesitated. His foot eased off the gas, and he ventured cautiously, "Young Master Micah, Miss Deidre is—" "Did you not understand what I said earlier?" Micah's tone was sharp, cutting. "Yes, sir!" The driver stiffened, not daring to say another word. He pressed harder on the accelerator, and the car sped away. For a fleeting moment, Deidre thought she saw the car slow down. A glimmer of hope ignited in her eyes. But it was gone as quickly as it came. The car roared forward, disappearing into the distance, leaving her behind. She sat where she had fallen, her meticulously applied bridal makeup now smeared and ruined. The oppressive summer sun bore down on her, but she didn't care. Perhaps if her body suffered enough, her heart might hurt a little less. The sound of approaching heels broke through her haze. A shadow loomed over her, and Deidre slowly looked up to see Casey Landon standing before her, her elegant face frosty with disdain. Casey crouched down, bringing their gazes level. Her lips curled into a cold smile as she produced her phone, unlocking it and flipping through her photo album. She held it out for Deidre to see. "Take a good look. This is my brother's first love." Deidre's face drained of color the moment her eyes landed on the photo. The girl in the picture was young, no older than eighteen or nineteen. Her delicate features radiated joy, her hand raised in a playful gesture that highlighted the ring on her slender finger—a ring identical to the one Micah had just dismissed as unworthy of Deidre. Her breath caught. The resemblance was uncanny. The girl's eyes, especially, bore a startling similarity to her own. "This photo," Casey said coolly, "is why my brother took an interest in you." Deidre's mind reeled. 'You're not worthy of this ring.' Micah's words came rushing back, sharper than ever. "So, I'm… her—" Deidre began, her voice trembling. "Her replacement," Casey finished mercilessly. Her tone was detached, but each syllable landed like a dagger to Deidre's heart. "No… that can't be," Deidre murmured, her voice barely audible. Yet her body betrayed her denial, trembling uncontrollably. Though the summer heat was oppressive, she felt as if she had been plunged into an icy abyss. She was a joke. Right from the start, she had been nothing more than a substitute. Casey watched Deidre descent into despair with evident satisfaction, though her anger hadn't quite abated. She raised her hand and struck Deidre across the face. The slap echoed sharply. Deidre's head snapped to the side, her cheek instantly stinging with heat. A vivid red mark bloomed across her pale skin, the outline of fingers clear and unrelenting. "Today, you humiliated my brother in front of everyone," Casey said coldly. "You turned this wedding into the laughingstock of the entire Salve City's elite. You should be thankful my parents left in disgust early on. If they were still here, you wouldn't have gotten off with just a slap." Deidre bit her lip, the metallic taste of blood filling her mouth. Slowly, she turned her face back to Casey, her eyes red-rimmed but resolute. Tears welled up but refused to fall. "I didn't do anything to betray him," she said through clenched teeth. "Spare me the pitiful act," Casey sneered. "Who do you think you're fooling?" Her disgust was unmistakable, simmering just beneath the surface. She straightened, slipping her phone back into her pocket. With a final disdainful glance, she added, "You're just a shameless woman clinging to lies and excuses. Disgusting." Without another word, Casey turned on her heel and walked away. Chapter 4 The reporters had trailed after Micah's car for a good while, hoping to intercept him, but when it became clear that their efforts were futile, they shifted their attention. Like a tidal wave, they surged toward Deidre instead. Vincent Winsley, who had also rushed out, caught sight of Deidre slumped on the ground, her hair disheveled, her expression blank. A surge of fury erupted within him. "You've disgraced me completely!" he spat, his teeth clenched in rage. Without waiting for a response, he stormed over and yanked her up forcefully. Deidre stumbled as he dragged her toward the parking lot, his movements sharp and brimming with frustration. Like a discarded, soulless rag doll, Deidre let herself be shoved into the car. Her mind was elsewhere, caught in an unending loop of Micah's cold words and Casey's venomous taunts. A replacement. The phrase clung to her, refusing to loosen its grip. Deidre's lips curled into a silent, bitter smile. Of course. It all made sense now. No wonder Micah had believed those photos, no wonder he had so readily embraced such absurd accusations. Trust? There had never been any between them. How could there be trust when all along, he had seen her as someone else? To him, she was merely a shadow, an echo of his lost love. A stand-in needed no trust—only convenience. When she no longer suited his mood, he could cast her aside without hesitation, without remorse. After all, she was just a replacement. Nothing more. For two whole years, she had been ensnared in the illusion of Micah's tenderness, his feigned affection. Even until this very day, she had dared to dream of a future together, of growing old by his side. But now, the illusion was shattered. The truth lay bare, unrelenting in its cruelty. She was nothing but a substitute. And if she had paid closer attention, she might have seen it all along. The signs were there. The way Micah would often stare at her, lost in thought—as if seeing through her, seeing someone else entirely. The pain clawed at her chest, raw and relentless. Why? Why did Micah have to do this to her? Just because she happened to resemble his first love? Did that alone condemn her to this undeserved heartbreak, this torment? "You still have the audacity to cry after committing such shameless acts!" Her father's enraged scolding pierced her thoughts. Deidre didn't even have the strength to argue anymore. Exhaustion weighed down every fiber of her being. She closed her eyes, letting the tears fall silently. But behind her closed lids, she couldn't stop the image from resurfacing—Micah's cold, disdainful gaze, those eyes filled with nothing but contempt. Again and again, the memory replayed, refusing to fade. Her heart felt as though it were being torn apart, over and over, each tear exposing fresh wounds, each wound bleeding pain she couldn't contain. … The moment Deidre stepped into the house, pushed forward by Vincent, she stumbled through the doorway into the entryway. As soon as the door clicked shut, his palm came down hard across her face. It struck the same spot Casey had hit earlier—her left cheek—and the sharp sting of pain flared up once more, searing and numb all at once. Deidre's expression didn't even flicker. She had no tears left to shed; the journey home had wrung her dry. All that remained was the dull ache behind her eyes. She stood there like a wooden doll, her gaze hollow and detached, staring at Vincent without truly seeing him. "How dare you humiliate the Landon family like this? How dare you cheat on Micah!" he roared. There was no questioning, no attempt to understand—just an immediate verdict of guilt, a judgment passed without trial. This was her father, Vincent. He had always been like this. The rage that had been simmering within him on the way home boiled over entirely now, erupting with full force. He raised his hand again, his voice thunderous. "I'll beat you to death today. That way, the Landon family won't come after me for this disgrace!" Deidre didn't move. She didn't even flinch. She knew better than to try. It wouldn't make a difference. Another slap landed squarely on her cheek, hard and unrelenting. The pain was distant now, buried under layers of numbness. Her expression remained as lifeless as before. "Look at you! Always that dead, useless look!" Her passive indifference only fueled Vincent's anger further, like oil thrown onto an open flame. His veins bulged at his neck, his face twisted with fury. "Fine! I'll end your life right here!" He glanced around, his eyes landing on a shoehorn resting by the entryway. He grabbed it without hesitation and swung it at her. Blow after blow rained down on her, relentless and furious. The shoehorn struck her arms, leaving bright red welts on her pale skin, each mark stark and startling against its canvas. The door opened again, and Kiera Winsley, her stepmother, appeared. She took in the scene, her voice laced with feigned concern as she exclaimed, "What's going on here? Why are you hitting Deidre?" "Stay out of it!" Vincent snapped, his grip tightening on the shoehorn. "This disgraceful wretch deserves it. end her life would be doing us all a favor." "Now, now," Kiera replied, stepping between Vincent and Deidre, her tone calm yet firm. "She's still your daughter. You can't say things like that." Her words seemed protective, but her eyes betrayed her indifference. There wasn't the faintest glimmer of worry in them. Deidre's gaze drifted to the silhouette of Kiera standing in front of her, shielding her from further blows. For the first time in what felt like forever, her empty eyes focused again. Her voice, hoarse and strained, broke the silence. "Where's Valerie?" Kiera blinked, startled by the unexpected question. She hesitated for a moment before responding, "Your sister and brother took a different car. They'll be home soon." Deidre said nothing more. Without another word, she turned and walked toward the living room. "Look at her! Look at the way she acts!" Vincent fumed behind her, his rage still simmering. Kiera stepped closer to him, her voice soothing as she tried to calm him down. But even as she murmured words of comfort, her gaze followed Deidre, scrutinizing her retreating figure with a calculating glint in her eyes. Chapter 5 After a long string of coaxing and placating, Kiera finally managed to calm Vincent's seething anger to a simmer. She tugged at his arm, steering him towards their room to change out of the formal attire they'd worn for the wedding. As they reached the stairs, Kiera glanced back and saw Deidre sitting quietly on the living room sofa. Her gaze was fixed on the front door, unblinking, her expression unreadable but for the faint furrow in her brows. Kiera hesitated, then called out, "Deidre, go change into something else, won't you?" Deidre didn't move. It was as if her ears had turned deaf to the sound of her stepmother's voice. "That girl's just like her mother—a cursed woman through and through!" Vincent spat as he ascended the stairs. "What bad luck it's been to have a daughter like that!" Deidre's eyes flickered for a moment, a ripple disturbing their stillness. Her hands clenched tightly, nails digging into her palms. It wasn't long before Valerie and Johnny returned. The atmosphere in the house had barely settled when their chatter filled the space again. "What a disaster today turned out to be," Valerie muttered as she stepped inside, slipping off her shoes. She paid no attention to the figure rising slowly from the living room sofa. "I told you from the beginning—this match was doomed from the start. Why force it? Marrying into wealth, what a joke..." Johnny trailed behind her, nodding absentmindedly as she spoke. But before she could take another step, she found herself face-to-face with Deidre. Startled, Valerie took a step back, her eyes scanning the figure before her. Deidre stood there in her wedding dress—filthy, tattered, with her hair in disarray. The left side of her pale face was swollen. For a brief moment, Valerie froze, as though she'd seen a ghost. Then her expression twisted into irritation. "What are you doing, standing there looking like that? Trying to scare someone to death?" Deidre's voice was calm, so calm it was unnerving. "It was you, wasn't it? On your eighteenth birthday, you forced me to drink, sent me to that hotel. And the pictures on the wedding screen—those were your doing too." The tone carried no inflection, just a straightforward certainty. It wasn't a question. It was a fact laid bare. Valerie faltered, her bravado wavering under Deidre's steady gaze. "You… I…" Her voice stumbled, and her eyes darted away, the guilt she tried to suppress bubbling to the surface. Before she could stammer out a denial, Deidre's hand moved swiftly. The slap landed on Valerie's cheek. Johnny snapped to attention, rushing forward to push Deidre away. "Don't hit my sister!" Johnny shouted, his fourteen-year-old frame trembling with indignation. The shove was forceful, and Deidre stumbled back several steps before regaining her balance. Valerie, clutching her cheek, finally processed what had happened. Her shock quickly morphed into rage. "Even Dad has never hit me! How dare you?!" she shrieked, rushing toward Deidre with hands outstretched, aiming for her face. But Deidre caught her by the wrist, her grip unyielding. Another slap followed, sharp and deliberate. Her voice, low and icy, cut through the chaos. "You deserve it." "You… you hit me again?!" Valerie's voice cracked into a wail. But before she could retaliate, Deidre's hand moved for the third time, another slap echoing in the room. "Stop hitting Valerie, you useless freak!" Johnny yelled. He rushed over, intending to help his older sister. But when his eyes met Deidre's gaze, he froze. As a fourteen-year-old boy who had been pampered his whole life, he had never seen anyone with such a murderous look in their eyes. Terrified, he hesitated. "Stop it this instant!" Kiera's voice rang out as she descended the stairs, her heels clacking rapidly against the steps. Her sharp eyes took in the scene—her daughter red-faced and wailing, Deidre standing unmoved, cold as stone. "How dare you hit your sister? Have you lost your mind?" Vincent wasn't far behind, his fury reignited at the sight of his precious daughter's reddened cheeks. He stormed down the stairs, his voice shaking with anger. "Hitting your sister like this? I'll end you life myself!" Deidre watched them all—the righteous fury on her father's face, the manufactured concern in her stepmother's eyes, and the unbridled hatred radiating from Valerie. Her chest tightened, the ache so deep it numbed her. Valerie broke through the cacophony with a scream, her voice shrill with rage. "Yes! I did it! I made you drunk that night and sent you to that hotel! And those photos on the screen—I had those taken! You think you deserve to marry into wealth? You're nothing! A crow pretending to be a phoenix—know your place!" Chapter 6 Vincent had been spewing curses at Deidre just moments ago, but upon hearing Valerie's confession, his lips pressed into a rare, tight line. He said nothing. Deidre let out a derisive laugh, her gaze shifting from Valerie to settle on her father. "You heard her, didn't you? You know now who orchestrated today's wedding fiasco. Weren't you so eager to beat me to death earlier? Why aren't you laying a hand on Valerie now?" Vincent remained still, his brows furrowing deeper as he finally spoke. "She's your sister. Watch your tone." "And when she humiliated me in front of an entire banquet hall, did she ever stop to think that I was her sister?" Deidre's voice cracked as she shouted, her anger no longer contained. "She's your daughter. Am I not your daughter, too?" "You're the older one. You should let her have her way," Vincent said, as if his words were carved in stone. "Yes, that's always your answer. Whenever there's a conflict between me and Valerie, you tell me I'm the older one, so I have to give in to her," Deidre said quietly now, her tone steeped in irony. She stood a few steps away, staring at the four people before her, her eyes cold, filled with disdain. Her mother had passed away before she was old enough to form memories. Not long after, Vincent had remarried, bringing Kiera into their home. With her came Valerie and Johnny. In the suffocating silence that followed, Deidre let out a bitter laugh. "I'm just an outsider, aren't I? You're the real family here." Her words pierced through the thin veneer of harmony that had barely held their household together. It shattered like glass. "What kind of look is that? Don't forget, I'm your father!" Vincent barked, enraged by the unmasked contempt in Deidre's eyes. "Following the passing of your mother, you ate my food, wore the clothes I bought. Did you call yourself an outsider then? Don't think earning a scholarship every year makes you someone special. If you're so capable, get out of this house right now and see how far you get without my support! Starve for all I care—just don't come crawling back!" Kiera's eyes gleamed at his words, though her tone remained measured, even gentle. "Why say such harsh things? Deidre is only twenty, and she's still in university. You can't talk to a child like that." Turning to Deidre, she added with a hypocritical kindness, "Deidre, don't take your father's words to heart. Apologize and make peace." "Fine," Deidre replied curtly. Her compliance startled Kiera, who hesitated, unsure what to make of it. This girl had never shown her any respect before, and now, all of a sudden, she was so obedient? The thought didn't sit well. If Deidre were truly driven out of the house, Kiera would no longer have to keep up the facade of a benevolent stepmother. Yet, despite herself, she felt unsettled, as if she had just swallowed a fly. Vincent was equally taken aback by his daughter's uncharacteristic acquiescence. He paused, his expression softening slightly. Clearing his throat, he assumed a more commanding tone. "The matter with the photos at the wedding—Valerie is still young and made a mistake. You've already hit her. Let's put it behind us. If you've done nothing to wrong the Landon family, find a time to clear things up and reschedule the wedding." Running a construction materials company, Vincent's business had been thriving, especially with the Landon family connection. A marriage alliance with the Landons would secure even greater opportunities. Naturally, he hoped Deidre would still marry into that family. The thought of returning the Landon family's generous bride price gnawed at him. That money alone had already covered the cost of raising Deidre for twenty years, and then some. It could ever cover her living costs for another forty years. The idea of losing it was unbearable. "You were engaged to Micah a year ago," he continued, his voice laced with warning. "You've been a part of the Landon family ever since. If they decide they don't want you after this mess, don't think anyone else will have you." "Reschedule the wedding?" Deidre repeated, as though the suggestion was the most absurd thing she'd ever heard. She began to laugh—a deep, bitter laugh that only grew louder, carrying with it a sadness so profound it filled the room. This was her father. A man so blinded by favoritism, he had lost all sense of reason. "What are you laughing at?" Vincent snapped, his brows knitting together tightly. Chapter 7 "I'd rather never get married in this lifetime than marry Micah. Never!" Deidre stopped laughing, her face freezing over, her voice sharp: "I think you've misunderstood something. When I said 'fine,' I meant I'll leave this house, and you can all go ahead and live your happy little lives." Since middle school, Deidre had been a boarding student, and the bond between her and her father, Vincent, had always been tenuous. The estrangement between them was as thin as the paper separating two worlds. In a blended family, when there are children from previous marriages, someone always ends up hurt. Vincent's fatherly love had been doled out almost entirely to his other children, Valerie and Johnny, leaving only the scraps for her. It was like charity, barely a gesture. Now, standing on the edge of her limits, she had had enough. Absolutely enough. "Fine! Fine then!" Vincent, enraged, his face contorted, pointed toward the door and bellowed, "I'll cut ties with you today! Get out! Get out of this house—now!" "Don't worry, I'm leaving." The deepest sorrow wasn't in the confrontation itself but in the stillness that followed it. Deidre had imagined this moment countless times, but now that it was happening, she felt a strange tranquility—almost a sense of release. Like her presence in this house had always been superfluous, an eyesore. She should have left long ago. Calmly, Deidre turned and went upstairs to her room to pack her things. Kiera, thrilled on the inside, masked her joy with an expression of feigned concern and helplessness. She muttered, "Don't be so upset. Why argue with a twenty-year-old? I'll go check on her." When Valerie heard Deidre's words, the sting of the slap on her face lightened. A wicked smile spread across her face, and sweetly, she said, "Dad, you still have me. I'll be a good daughter from now on." Vincent had been angry with Valerie earlier, but seeing her with that slap mark on her face, now with her pitiful, submissive expression, all the anger drained away. His tone softened as he looked at her, a far cry from the venomous words he had thrown at Deidre. He spoke gently, as a father would to a daughter he cherished, his voice full of indulgence. "Yes, having you is enough, my dear." Johnny watched Deidre walk up the stairs, his face contorted with disdain and contempt. This burden had been long overdue to leave. Upstairs, Deidre entered her room, changed out of the wedding dress, and began packing her suitcase. She heard footsteps stop at the door. Turning, she saw Kiera leaning against the doorframe, a smile plastered on her face. It was clear to Deidre that Kiera's smile was full of unmasked triumph, as if her goal had been achieved. "You don't need to stand there. Don't worry, I won't take anything valuable." Kiera chuckled lightly. "What valuable things could you even have in this room? Compared to Valerie's, yours is barely furnished. Take whatever you want—it's all just the last little bit of charity our family has given you." Deidre eyed Kiera for a moment, then silently walked past her and slammed the door shut. Kiera raised an eyebrow, unfazed by the gesture. Her mood was too good to argue with the brat now. She turned, adopting a concerned expression, and went downstairs. … Inside the room, Deidre slid down to the floor, leaning against the door, her eyes closed, her face etched with sorrow. From this moment on, she would be alone. She was only twenty, but why did it feel as though she had already lived an entire life? She didn't want to stay in Salve City anymore. She needed to leave, to disappear far away. But now, she had no money. Where could she go? Would she ask Vincent for money? She had to keep living, to prove to everyone who had mocked her that one day, she would slap their faces with her achievements. But what other choice did she have? How could she escape this place, this city, if not through death? Her eyes still closed, Deidre's mind scrambled through every possible future, searching for some shred of hope. Then, suddenly, a thought flashed through her mind. She opened her eyes, her gaze trembling slightly. Perhaps she still had one chance left. She stood up, found her phone, and dialed her mentor's number. After a few beeps, the call was answered, and her mentor's voice, warm with a smile, came through the receiver. "Deidre?" "It's me, Professor." Deidre's voice was hoarse. "Congratulations on your wedding today. If I hadn't been abroad for an academic exchange this week, I would have definitely come to your wedding." Deidre's throat tightened, her nose burning. Her voice cracked as she responded, "Professor, I… I want to ask you something." "Go ahead." Deidre took a deep breath, summoning all the strength she had left before speaking, "Is it… possible for me to reclaim my study-abroad spot?" There was a pause on the other end of the line, followed by her mentor's surprised voice. "Didn't you say you were planning to stay in Salve City after marriage? What's changed? Has your husband agreed to it?" The wedding had been canceled. She didn't have a husband. Deidre barely managed a smile, her lips twitching silently, before speaking as calmly as she could. "No… I just think the opportunity to study abroad with a full scholarship is too rare." "Yes, it is. There are only three spots in the whole school, and you were the top choice. You know, for your field—finance—the offers from top international universities are extremely precious. This means you could stay in a foreign country and work there after graduation." Deidre opened her mouth but couldn't find the words. What was there to say? She had given up a brilliant future for a man she had believed was her one true love, only to end up as a fool, tossed aside in a fleeting illusion. "Deidre?" Her mentor's voice cut through the silence, noticing the quiet on the other end. "Professor, is there still a chance?" "Well, that's hard to say. The spot you gave up has already been filled by someone else." Deidre bit her lip, and the sharp pain in her mouth made her bite down harder, blood filling her mouth. She gripped the phone tightly, her voice laced with desperation. "Really... no chance at all?" Chapter 8 It seemed that the professor had sensed the unease in Deidre's voice. After a moment, the warm, familiar tone of her mentor returned over the phone. "There could still be a chance. Let me make a call and try to secure it for you." Deidre had always been a top student. Even though she hadn't finished high school, she had been exempted from exams and directly enrolled in the prestigious university in Salve City, completing both her undergraduate and master's degrees in one continuous stretch. Her mentor, who had always kept a close eye on such promising talent, was not one to let someone like Deidre miss out on such an opportunity. "Thank you. I'll wait for your call," Deidre said, her fingers tightening around the phone, turning pale as she bit down hard on her lower lip. Her heart pounded, the anxiety spreading like fire. She waited for an answer. Each second dragged on painfully, like she was being fried alive in a pan. She gripped her phone, staring at the screen, willing it to bring some resolution. Finally, the screen lit up. It was a call from her mentor. With a nervous breath, Deidre answered. "Good news," came the professor's voice. "A spot's available, and it's yours. Deidre, cherish this opportunity. Remember, no matter what others do, your future is yours to hold in your hands. That's the safest bet." Tears welled up in Deidre's eyes, and she started to cry, her joy so overwhelming that it spilled out of her like a river. She bit her lip, trying to control her shaking voice, and spoke each word slowly and deliberately. "Thank you... Thank you, Professor." "Alright, we'll talk later. I've got a lecture to begin." The screen darkened as the call ended, and Deidre, eyes still brimming with tears, looked out the window. Through her blurred vision, she could make out the faint blue sky, the soft white clouds. The vast expanse of the heavens stretched out before her. There was a way after all. The road had not been completely closed off. … Time passed swiftly. Seven years slipped by unnoticed. In Zemenia City, a bustling commercial hub neighboring Salve City, the evening descended, and the lights flickered on in their dazzling array. In the heart of this prime real estate stood the prestigious Wilton Grand Hotel, a symbol of high society, where the city's elite gathered for their business soirées. Outside the hotel, a barrier of security personnel kept the press at bay, forcing the journalists to crane their necks, helplessly watching the spectacle from a distance. This particular business banquet, however, was by invitation only. Among the luxury cars parked outside, one stood out above the rest: a limited-edition car, the kind that only the ultra-wealthy could afford. Its gleaming body spun gracefully before coming to a halt right in front of the hotel, catching the attention of all those gathered. The door to the driver's side opened, and the man who emerged was dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, the kind that made his figure appear long and sharp. He pushed up his rimless glasses, and his finely chiseled face caught the light, his lips curving into the faintest of smiles. His eyes shimmered behind the lenses, and the sight instantly drew gasps of admiration from the women in the crowd. "That's Micah Landon from the Landon Group in Salve City, isn't it?" "He's even more handsome and refined in person than in his photos!" Micah glanced around, his gaze cool and detached, masking a momentary flicker of impatience. A smile, barely perceptible, touched his lips as he adjusted the buttons of his suit jacket, walking swiftly around the car to open the door to the passenger side. A slender, pale hand emerged from the car, resting lightly on Micah's arm as a woman gracefully stepped out. Her custom-made gown, an extravagant piece from this season's collection, hugged her slender form. She smiled as she looked up, her face radiant with the kind of poise that made everyone around her hold their breath. The man was elegant, the woman, stunning. They were the perfect picture of grace and beauty, drawing all eyes. "Look! A limited-edition extended Luxury car! My goodness!" The crowd's attention quickly shifted from Micah and the woman beside him to the new arrival. Micah, too, turned his gaze in response to the sound. Soon, a tall, imposing figure emerged from the luxury car. As he looked closer, Micah recognized the man immediately—Connor Halls, the young heir to the Halls family from a country called Milwarke. But just as quickly, Micah's gaze turned to one of astonishment. Standing by the car, the distinguished and handsome man offered a gentlemanly smile, bending slightly as he extended his hand. From the extended luxury car, a graceful woman emerged. Her delicate arm raised, her soft hand resting in Connor's as she descended. Her gown, a hand-crafted European design, clung to her figure, accentuating every curve, while the blue fabric highlighted her fair skin. The simple pearl necklace around her neck caught the light, and Micah—being an expert in jewelry design—immediately recognized it: a rare, limited-edition piece by renowned European designer Laire, a treasure impossible to acquire. But all Micah could feel was shock, as the woman's appearance completely stole his attention. How could it be her? A ripple of whispers spread through the crowd as people wondered about the identity of this poised and beautiful woman. Micah's gaze finally fixed on her face, her flawless features, the delicate oval of her face framed by perfect makeup.	LEARN_MORE	https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=17042&ut	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	375	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	beokn.com	IMAGE		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=17042&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/474462991_1355953635781051_3778120853925038332_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=koTUoDtDo_sQ7kNvgETbTSn&_nc_oc=AdiG0QOOzMtLRNkfGjPGNdZ2KK7OdgjiYt_eO9XqV9sePBkmjEu5gIXznexEGGqiYgL2FlfQdZBnRLlGhePsNbsA&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A0u7ms-zhUQ5fxVZ-sqxD69&oh=00_AYDP2cai3VxR-xXfLme8Snc8RmEg28RiGoVqa0tiGRZN9Q&oe=67CBCC20	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,756,979	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2756924}'	Yes	2025-03-03 12:18	active	2772	🔥🔥Click to read the next chapter for free👉	Deidre watched them all—the righteous fury on her father's face, the manufactured concern in her stepmother's eyes, and the unbridled hatred radiating from Valerie. Her chest tightened, the ache so deep it numbed her. Valerie broke through the cacophony with a scream, her voice shrill with rage. "Yes! I did it! I made you drunk that night and sent you to that hotel! And those photos on the screen—I had those taken! You think you deserve to marry into wealth? You're nothing! A crow pretending to be a phoenix—know your place!" Vincent had been spewing curses at Deidre just moments ago, but upon hearing Valerie's confession, his lips pressed into a rare, tight line. He said nothing. Deidre let out a derisive laugh, her gaze shifting from Valerie to settle on her father. "You heard her, didn't you? You know now who orchestrated today's wedding fiasco. Weren't you so eager to beat me to death earlier? Why aren't you laying a hand on Valerie now?" Vincent remained still, his brows furrowing deeper as he finally spoke. "She's your sister. Watch your tone." "And when she humiliated me in front of an entire banquet hall, did she ever stop to think that I was her sister?" Deidre's voice cracked as she shouted, her anger no longer contained. "She's your daughter. Am I not your daughter, too?" "You're the older one. You should let her have her way," Vincent said, as if his words were carved in stone. "Yes, that's always your answer. Whenever there's a conflict between me and Valerie, you tell me I'm the older one, so I have to give in to her," Deidre said quietly now, her tone steeped in irony. She stood a few steps away, staring at the four people before her, her eyes cold, filled with disdain. Her mother had passed away before she was old enough to form memories. Not long after, Vincent had remarried, bringing Kiera into their home. With her came Valerie and Johnny. In the suffocating silence that followed, Deidre let out a bitter laugh. "I'm just an outsider, aren't I? You're the real family here." Her words pierced through the thin veneer of harmony that had barely held their household together. It shattered like glass.	LEARN_MORE	https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=17042&ut	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	375	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	beokn.com	VIDEO		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=17042&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/473586401_907299651563933_3977832501601859907_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=0IzGz7E4Qe8Q7kNvgHmp9-r&_nc_oc=AdgJJQDBNXjBEx3cQFNFIay42Hc1kV1X9gvynujUEXwToMVL-3YZrhVFNpYmp6aDs03o4_8udcV17dvJP2PRWaGJ&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A0u7ms-zhUQ5fxVZ-sqxD69&oh=00_AYCRSnENwFtRLEDHUkT_kH7jAgpCzMlBO7tm4igRTfPUKA&oe=67CBDAB7	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,756,973	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2756884}'	Yes	2025-03-03 12:18	active	2772	🔥🔥Click to read the next chapter for free👉	""Yvonne, get in!"" When I realized I was given a second chance, our yacht had already started taking on water. The lifeboat could only hold two people. Of the three of us, only Hendrix knew how to operate it. So, one of the spots had to go to him. There were two left fighting for the spot. After a fierce internal struggle, Hendrix finally extended his hand toward me. However, I took a step back, rejecting his offer. ""Hendrix, save Yana."" I would never carry the weight of someone's death on my shoulders again. Upon hearing this, Hendrix seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. Even his furrowed brows relaxed. Without hesitation, he grabbed Yana's hand and guided her to the lifeboat. ""Yvonne, you're my fiancee. I would've chosen you, but you insisted that I take Yana. Stay put! I'll definitely come back for you."" With that, he left with Yana, not sparing me another glance as if afraid I might change my mind. How ridiculous. Did he think everyone was like him? The last life played out similarly. He took me away from the disaster zone first, leaving Yana all alone on the yacht. Even though we contacted the coast guard as soon as we returned, Yana had drowned. All they recovered was her lifeless body. At first, Hendrix did not show any emotions when he heard the news. He calmly handled Yana's funeral and gave her family a large sum of money for their loss. The only request he made was to bury her in a pristine gravesite, supposedly with the best care. Naturally, I did not object and even thoughtfully asked if he wanted to postpone the wedding. However, he refused immediately. I still remember how he held my hand and said, ""Yvonne, I'm definitely marrying you!"" It was not until later that I realized he was indeed determined to marry me. However, it was only so he could torment me, to make me atone for Yana's death for the rest of my life. What did her death have to do with me? As I watched them sail away, I immediately began thinking of ways to save myself. After all, I could not be sure if Hendrix would get help this time. In my previous life, it was because his beloved childhood friend was left behind that he rushed to get help as soon as we regained cell service. This time, his beloved was right by his side. Would he even remember me? Both times, the only person he ever truly wanted to save was his childhood sweetheart, Yana. I thought about it. They indeed had a great relationship. They grew up together, and no one could ever compare to the years she spent by his side. Even though he chose to save me, it was only because if he had saved Yana first, people would have criticized him for ignoring his fiancee. So, despite his love for Yana, he chose to rescue me. In the previous life, Hendrix deeply regretted that choice. Now, I had made that choice for him. He should be thanking me. It was not until their figures completely disappeared over the horizon that I quickly thought of ways to save myself. Although the yacht was taking on water, there were still many useful things on it. As I watched the rising water, I hurriedly went inside the yacht and found the swim rings and life jackets I had brought to the trip. I had prepared several swim rings in advance because I could not swim but wanted to join in the fun. Now they were coming in handy. I hastily put on a life jacket, inflated the rings, and slipped one around my body. I then dug out the remaining few packets of chocolate and bottles of water. When the yacht finally sank completely, I took a deep breath and began swimming toward the shore. Although this was out at sea, it was not entirely desolate. Fishermen frequently passed by to fish, so I knew I would be saved if I could encounter a fishing boat. Unfortunately, it was the dead of night. Even if there were fishing boats nearby, the loud engine would likely drown out my cries for help. Despite that, I did not give up. I kept swimming toward the shore with all my strength. However, fate seemed to be out for me. The clear sky from earlier was now filled with thick, dark clouds. It played out just like my previous life. Shortly after, a torrential downpour began, making the rescue effort even harder and ultimately leading to Yana's death. Unlike her, I was not about to give up. I swam even harder. After about an hour of swimming, I finally saw a yacht drifting ahead, swaying in the water. I quickly raised my hands and shouted toward the yacht. ""Help! Is anyone there? Please save me, save me..."" My voice grew louder as raindrops began falling from the sky. At first, I was hopeful, but within minutes, the drizzle turned into a heavy downpour. I watched as the yacht drifted farther away and a sense of despair washed over me. Still, I did not give up, continuing to shout for help. ""Somebody, please help me!"" Just as I was about to lose hope, a figure appeared on the yacht. He shone a flashlight onto the water. He heard me! I was saved! A surge of immense joy filled my chest, and I immediately swam toward the beam of the flashlight. ""Help! Please, save me!"" Using my last bit of strength, I finally reached the side of the yacht. A ladder was quickly lowered as I neared it. I nearly collapsed several times from exhaustion climbing up. The moment I stepped onto the yacht, my legs gave out, and I collapsed onto the deck. However, before my knees even touched the deck, a pair of strong hands caught me. ""Are you alright?"" I exhaled deeply and replied, ""I'm fine, thank you."" I leaned into his chest, my body completely drained from the ordeal. The man frowned as he glanced at me, then without another word, he scooped me up and carried me inside the yacht. He handed me a set of dry clothes and said, ""You're soaking wet. Change into these."" ""Oh, thank you."" Once he left the room, I hurriedly took off my soaked nightgown. Everything had happened so suddenly that I had not even had a chance to change. Just as I finished, there was a knock at the door. I walked over and opened it. The man entered, carrying a bowl of noodles, and placed it on the table, motioning for me to try it. That was when I finally got a good look at him. His facial features were sharp and defined, and he exuded an air of righteous strength, likely from being in the military. However, I was too hungry to think much about it. I wolfed down the bowl of noodles before speaking to him. ""Hi, I'm Yvonne Lewis. Thank you so much for saving me."" Andrew Grant glanced at my still-damp hair and the faint scratches on my hands. ""Let me dry your hair, then I will take a look at that hand."" I was puzzled. ""Huh?"" ""The ocean isn't the cleanest place in the world. If you don't disinfect, the wounds could get infected."" ""Okay, thank you."" After that, he draped a towel over my head and gently dried my hair. Then he carefully applied iodine to my wounds. I watched him, biting my lip, as he dried my hair, feeling a sudden warmth in my heart. I remembered when Hendrix got drunk after we got married. I helped him back to the room and merely suggested he drink less. In response, he flew into a rage and shoved me to the ground, hard. I lost my balance, hitting the back of my head on the floor, and blood gushed out immediately. Gasping in pain, I stared at the blood on my hands and cried out. Hendrix just stood there, staring coldly at me. ""It hurts, doesn't it? When Yana died, I bet she was in a thousand times more pain than you! But she's gone! If I hadn't been trying to save you back then, she never would have drowned! Yvonne, everything happened because of you!"" he said icily. I could only sit there, staring at him in utter disbelief and feeling the blood continue to pour from my head. My heart chilled, bit by bit, as I realized what he said. After a long silence, I finally spoke, ""Hendrix! Your rivals sabotaged the yacht, and you're the one who told me to get on the lifeboat. And now you're blaming me? Don't you think that's utterly ridiculous?"" The drunkenness faded from Hendrix's face, replaced by an even deeper indifference. ""Yvonne, I never agreed to this marriage in the first place. If you hadn't told my grandmother you liked me, I wouldn't be forced to marry you."" I laughed bitterly, looking at him like he was a joke. ""So, you're saying all of this is my fault? Hendrix, you don't blame your enemies or your family's pressure, but instead, you blame me. You're just pathetic."" With that, I turned around and left, taking a cab to the hospital to deal with my injuries. From that moment on, our relationship hit rock bottom. And from that moment on, I never showed him any vulnerability again. However, now, here in the present, the stranger before me was afraid I might be in pain. He was so gentle and treated me with such care. My eyes stung suddenly, and I quickly turned away, taking a deep breath to hold back the tears. ""Thank you,"" I said. Andrew raised his head, his smile pure and warm. ""You're welcome."" ""Mister Grant, are you in here?"" A voice suddenly came from the door. A man in pajamas, wearing black-framed glasses, stood at the entrance. His eyes quickly landed on me after a brief glance at Andrew. ""Sir, you called earlier about someone falling overboard. Is it this young lady here?"" Andrew nodded and then turned to me. ""He is the medic onboard. He can give you a quick check-up to make sure you're okay."" I nodded. Andrew quickly stepped aside, allowing Doctor Enfield to come in. He gave me a simple examination, and after asking me a few questions, concluded that I had no major injuries, just extreme fatigue from being in the water too long. Doctor Enfield stood up and turned to Andrew and said, ""There aren't any serious injuries on Miss Lewis, but she's exhausted from drifting in the sea for too long. A good rest is all she needs.""	LEARN_MORE	https://www.qknymufd.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=1	Indulge in story	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	1,132	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	www.qknymufd.com	VIDEO		https://www.qknymufd.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=18179&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/477012329_2093422487829520_3017779063173618019_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=scH1LKG20SAQ7kNvgHq3Wyq&_nc_oc=AdjddGcIFdR9eE24Hlx7wuKT8T6g3xYhuzJknHA4mNLTtwH9j1wctVvcUgvtqNYpREoSUWpXOpKW9Au895zMnleo&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A0u7ms-zhUQ5fxVZ-sqxD69&oh=00_AYDIN8uaayzc_e-QUeqqbo4lImKck2wxZ-3_nzApaGD5bQ&oe=67CBB97F	PERSON_PROFILE	Indulge in story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,756,177	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2756859}'	No	2025-03-03 12:18	active	2772	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	"Are... are you sure, Esther?" I ask with a broken voice. My heart races, filled with happiness. "Very sure, Luna. You're carrying a little wolf!" "Why haven't I been able to smell it, or his father?" I ask, worried. "It's very recent, perhaps that's why. Give it a few more days and you should be able to sense the pheromones." She replies, and I nod, my eyes blurred with tears. I am the Luna of the "Autumn Forest" pack. Three years ago, I married the man I love madly, despite not being destined mates, my Alpha Dorian. I've given everything to be the perfect Luna, the pillar he can lean on. However, a shadow looms over my marriage—the topic of an heir. I've never been able to get pregnant, and I admit I don't share the bed with Dorian as often. But I know his duties as Alpha keep him extremely busy and stressed. "Please, don't tell anyone in the pack. I want to surprise my husband." "Don't worry, Luna, I won't say anything. Congratulations!" She smiles at me, and I return the smile, overflowing with excitement and happiness. Despite being a foreigner, not originally belonging to this pack, ever since my parents died and the previous Alpha took me in, I've never felt rejected or looked down upon. That's why I've devoted myself fully to my duties as Luna. I'm grateful for my life and the wonderful man I'm married to. *** "What's with all this food? Is there going to be a party?" "Hands off!" I swat away the greedy claws of Sophia, my best friend, who sneaked in through the back kitchen door. "But wow, puff pastry tart and everything!" she says, sitting on a stool. Honestly, I may have gone a bit overboard with the dishes, but I'm so happy I want everything to be perfect. All my Alpha's favorite foods are ready! "Well, today is Dorian's and my anniversary. I want to celebrate with an intimate dinner," I say, turning back to the caramel on the stove. I don't hear her respond, so I turn halfway, curious. "What's wrong?" "N-nothing, nothing... I just heard the Alpha had an emergency today. Didn't he tell you?" she asks, and I frown. Actually, Dorian doesn't usually explain much about his work. I guess it's to avoid worrying me. "No, but he'll come back anyway. He knows today is special." I respond, completely convinced. She looks at me strangely. Lately, I can't quite understand her, but she's the first person who approached me in this pack and has always supported me. I value her greatly as a friend. "Sophie, there's something I want to tell you, but... I'll tell you tomorrow. It's very important to me," I say suddenly, wanting to share the good news with her, but not before confessing it to Dorian. "Really? Can't you tell me now?" she asks, gossip-mode activated, leaning over the counter while munching on a homemade cookie. "No, no. Tomorrow. I promise you'll be the second to know," I reply, and I can feel my happiness radiating from every pore. "Fine, I'll leave you with your mystery then. I've got things to do. Happy anniversary," she grumbles, frustrated I didn't spill the secret, and leaves the same way she came. I check the clock. There's still time. I take off my apron and head to the second floor to shower and get dressed nicely. Everything has to be perfect tonight, celebrating with my beloved mate. * I glance at the clock for the thousandth time, sitting on the sofa. It's past midnight, and Dorian hasn't arrived. I look at the cold dishes on the dining table and get up, resigned to reheating them again. I'm in the middle of that task when I hear the front door open and close. His delicious scent tingles my nose, warming my stomach. I glance at my burgundy dress, smoothing it out and fixing my hair in the hallway mirror. My jet-black hair is tied in a high ponytail, and my intensely blue eyes, highlighted with makeup, stare back at me. I step into the foyer, watching my imposing Alpha enter the door. "My love, how was your day? Lots of work, right?" I grab the coat he's holding to hang it up. I see him clutching some documents, but I assume they're pack matters. I move closer to kiss him, but he steps back. "I'm sweaty and dirty from the road. Don't contaminate yourself," he says, his piercing honey eyes staring at me—eyes I adore despite their constant coldness. It's just part of his nature. He carries too many responsibilities after inheriting the role so young when his father died. His blond hair is messily handsome, and for some reason, damp. I can even catch the scent of an unfamiliar shower gel. Why would he shower before coming home? And he said he was dirty, yet it's clear he just bathed. "S-sure, give me a second to reheat dinner. You must be hungry..." "I'm not hungry. Valeria, we need to talk." "But the dinner—" "Forget dinner. Let's go to the living room. I need to tell you something," his authoritative voice makes me tense. I follow him, starting to feel deeply worried. My hand slips into my skirt pocket, clutching the folded document stating I'm having his baby. "Why was the table so full of dishes? Were you planning a party?" he asks, glancing at the dining room. My heart clenches. "Love, I know you've been busy with pack duties. But... don't tell me you forgot our anniversary? Today marks three years since we mated," I say, sitting on the couch. I expect him to sit beside me, but instead, he chooses the armchair opposite. Dorian has never been overly affectionate, but tonight he's too distant. Too cold. An alarm goes off inside me. "Of course, I remembered. You have no idea how long I've been waiting for our third anniversary," he replies, but I don't see a trace of joy in his expression. I know everything will change with my news. Our relationship hasn't been great because of this. The pack elders keep pressuring him for an heir. When I tell him about the baby, he'll be happy. "I'll be quick because I can't stand this any—" "Wait! Wait, Dorian. Let me show you something first, and then you can tell me what you wanted to say," I interrupt him, feeling a strong premonition, I won't like his next words. Lowering my head, I take out the folded paper and hand it to him, my heart racing with emotion. He takes it, reading silently as I watch him, anxious, waiting for his joy to match mine. "I'm pregnant! I'm carrying your pup! We'll have an heir for the pack. I'm sure the Goddess has blessed us with a son!" I can't hold back and blurt it out directly. Tears in my eyes, I rise and move toward him, wanting to embrace him. But as in love as I am, even I can see this isn't the reaction I expected from the father of my child. "Are you sure about this, or is it just a trick to keep me tied to you?" he suddenly says, rising and pushing me away when I try to hug him. "Dorian... Of course, I'm sure. Look, that's the midwife's handwriting. Why would I lie about something so important? My love, what's wrong? What's happening, my Alpha?" "No, no. Damn it!" I watch him pace like a caged wolf around the living room. "This can't be happening. Not now!" "Dorian..." "Did you tell my mother? Anyone else?!" he asks suddenly, approaching me and gripping my shoulders tightly. "N-no, love. I was waiting to tell you first. I thought... you'd be happy. I know they've been pressuring you. Alpha, you don't have to be tense anymore. We'll have our family." I raise a trembling hand to caress his cheek, but he just stares at me with those golden eyes, silent. I can't figure out what's going on in his head. "You're right... I've been very stressed. I'm sorry," he suddenly pulls me into his arms, and I finally sigh, relieved, hugging him back tenderly. For a second, I feared he wasn't happy. "We'll get through this together, my Alpha. I'll be the perfect Luna so no one will judge you," I whisper, lifting my head. I want him to kiss me, to make love to me like we haven't in a long time. "Let's go for a run. A wild, unrestricted anniversary night." He suddenly suggests it, taking my hand and pulling me toward the back of our house, which borders the pack's forest. "Shift into your she-wolf," he commands, and I watch him undressing. He's so charming and strong. His hair glows under the moonlight, and I begin the transformation into my "she-wolf," one of the greatest lies and secrets of my life—something not even Dorian knows. * We run freely across the pack's lands. But I notice how we keep going farther and farther, even crossing the borders, yet I just follow Dorian's massive white wolf racing wildly ahead of me. We reach a remote place, at the edge of a deep cliff, but above us, the moon shines intensely, and the forest landscape stretches far below. "Where is this? We're outside our pack's territory... Aren't we trespassing on someone's land?" I gaze into the distance from the edge, mesmerized by the view, having already shifted back into human form, but no one responds. I feel uneasy and start to turn around. However, something inside me stirs with alarm. A crow caws in the distance—but it's already too late. "Do... Dorian, wha—?! Aaaaaahhh!" I scream as I feel wolf claws tearing into my abdomen, deeply ripping through me. Terrified and shocked by the sudden attack, I try to run. I attempt to shift back into my wolf to escape into the forest, away from whatever is happening, away from this rabid Alpha wolf whose blood-red eyes glare at me with pure hatred—but it's impossible to flee. "Ahhh! Let me go! Dorian, what are you doing?! What are you doing?! Ahhh! Help! Help!" I scream as he jumps on me when I try to escape. C2 THE WORST BETRAYAL VALERIA He bites my thigh viciously and drags me beneath his body, controlling me mercilessly. I try to resist, to call for help, my hands clutching my stomach, trying to protect my pup, but his claws, like deadly weapons, pierce my skin, tearing apart my small, vulnerable body. I have to raise my arms instinctively when his sharp claws aim for my face, and I scream in agony as a deep wound slices across my cheek from my forehead. Leaving my belly exposed, he struck our child. "Nooo, not the pup, please, Dorian, not our son!" Tears poured endlessly from my eyes as I begged him, but his canines tore through my flesh, and his claws dug into the depths of my insides with chilling cruelty, seeking to rip out the life growing inside me. I don’t know how long this agony lasted—I sobbed, pleading as long as I could speak. The pain in my entire body was unbearable, but worse was the pain in my soul, bleeding and shattered. I was discarded on the ground like trash, on the edge of a precipice, my consciousness nearly slipping away from the pain when I saw him shift into his human form. "You thought you could keep me tied to you forever?" he yelled furiously. His eyes were cold and disgusted, a look I had never seen before. "Did you really think I loved you, that I was dying to have a child with you? What a waste!" He kicked me with rage, but I no longer had the strength to even moan in pain. "Three damn years I've been separated from my mate because of you!" he roared, pouring out all the hatred he'd stored up over time. "Why…?" I barely managed to whisper, my face swollen, my tongue heavy, and my throat bleeding from a deep wound. "Because you came to the pack, the miserable orphan, and that old lady said you would give birth to the strongest Alphas, powerful enough to elevate my bloodline." "Pure nonsense from that crazy old hag, but my mother believed her and forced me to give up my mate for you because you were infatuated with me! She gave me three damn years—that was our deal. If you didn’t succeed, I’d be free." "So, today I come, ready to rid myself of an obstacle like you, and you say that you’re carrying my son," he laughed like a psychopath. "I won’t let you do it again, Valeria. You won't ruin my life again. This is the end for you!" He walked toward me, and I saw death staring me in the face. I wanted to say so many things... «I didn't know you already loved someone else. I was just a foolish, infatuated girl, but I never forced you to love me back. How could you deceive me, fake everything all this time? Our child… how could you… how could you do this…?!» I felt so powerless as I lay there, sobbing, bloody, and dying. I wished I could connect with his wolf, scream out this injustice, but I couldn’t—not even that. I didn’t have an inner she-wolf. I could only shift my body and pretend. Some said it was trauma from my adoptive parents’ violent death, where only I survived. Others claimed it was a curse, but I knew that wasn't true. I had never felt the presence of a wolf spirit within me. "Goodbye, dear wife. You don't seem so special after all," he said cynically, and with his foot, he kicked me over the cliff's edge. The last thing I knew was the sensation of falling into the cold void. I looked up at the dark sky as shadows of crows circled above my head, like messengers of death. "I'm so sorry, baby. I couldn't protect you." * "Why aren't her wounds healing properly?" "I can't waste the pack's blood on a stranger. Jake already did too much rescuing her from the rogue woods. She has to heal on her own." "Honestly, I don't even know how this woman is still alive. Poor thing… her body is horribly damaged, especially her belly… and her face." I heard voices talking nearby, hands examining me. An unbearable pain worse than death itself burned through my body, dragging me between consciousness and darkness. I don’t know how much time passed or where I was, but when I opened my eyes, I saw a white ceiling. I looked around and saw a small room, lying on a personal bed. "You're awake?" a female voice spoke suddenly beside me, and I saw an unfamiliar face. I tried to speak, but for some reason, I couldn't—it was as if my vocal cords refused to work. "Don't strain yourself. Stay calm. You… I don't think you can talk right now because of the wound on your neck," she explained with a troubled expression. And then, my foggy mind remembered—everything. The first thing I did was reach for my belly, trying to sit up despite the dizziness and searing pain. "Don't move! Wait, calm down, calm down!" she stopped me and eased me back down, but I needed to know—desperately—I had to know if a miracle had occurred. I looked at her intensely and then at my stomach, wrapped in thick bandages. "Yes… I understand what you're asking, but… I'm sorry… your belly was completely torn. Your womb was destroyed, and your pup… didn't make it. It was impossible to save him. We don't even know how you're still alive." I felt the tears pouring uncontrollably from my eyes. I closed them in pure agony, my soul shattering. My lips trembled, my entire body shook, and ragged sobs escaped my torn throat. Why did this have to happen to me? Why did everything around me have to turn into a nightmare? My baby, my pup was innocent. Why did something so horrible have to happen to him? "Calm down, please! You can't get like this! Aston, I need you here! Bring the sedative! Now, Aston, hurry!" "Aaaahh! Aaaahh!" I heard distorted screams, a cry so raw it could freeze the blood and shatter hearts. A desperate, broken woman wailed—and then I realized… it was me. That wretched woman who had lost everything… was me. * Days have passed. I know a man rescued me from the forest beneath the cliff. I'm staying in a small pack not far from Autumn Forest. With my hands still covered in wounds, I try to splash water on my face, but I can't even bear to touch my skin. I lift my head, and as I do every time that I face a mirror, I have to summon all my courage. My face, once beautiful and envied by many she-wolves, now bears a horrific scar running across my forehead and another deep one on my left cheek. Dorian not only destroyed my child's life, my womb, but he also scarred my face. It should have healed, but I know it won't. I don't possess the rapid healing ability of werewolves. Yes, I heal—but slower, and scars remain. I step outside the small room and hear the healer and the she-wolf who treated me speaking quietly. They're discussing how I've used too many resources and how they may have to ask me to leave soon since packs rarely welcome outsiders so easily. But the she-wolf argues that I’m still in terrible condition. I appreciate her care and empathy, but it won't be necessary to cast me out. I've already decided—I’ll leave tonight on my own. * Hours later, I walk through the dark forest like a lost soul, the damp bandages soaked with reopened wounds, bleeding. I don't care—my legs keep moving in a single direction. Hiding in the bushes, I watch the patrol line carefully. I know exactly how to slip past without being detected—I designed this defense rotation myself for Dorian. Like so many things I did for him and the pack. I slip away into the shadows, as quickly as my battered body allows. The night and darkness are my allies. It's as if they amplify my strange abilities. I hear voices, laughter, and lights in the distance—from the backyard of what had been my home for three long years. I walk as if in slow motion, wearing old sneakers and a worn-out dress that the she-wolf from the hospital gave me. "Ladies and gentlemen, I've gathered you all here today because I could no longer hide my happiness. I’m finally marrying my beloved mate, the woman of my life, my sweet Sophia, your future Luna." I feel like I'm falling into a cavern of ice as I watch them, smiling and kissing in front of those who once called me Luna. It was my "best friend" Sophia and my traitorous Alpha Dorian, celebrating their union while my body should have been rotting beneath that cliff if their plan had worked. Traitorous hypocrite! That woman was even wearing one of my evening dresses, made up with my things, stealing my life without a trace of remorse. She had deceived me all this time, just as I had been blind to everyone in this pack, and worse, to the man who lay beside me every night while thinking of another woman. Even the midwife who told me about my pregnancy was there! Dorian must have promised her something to keep her silent. I clenched my fists so tightly my nails dug into my palms, my teeth chattering with rage. I waited, waited like the deranged psychopath I had become, watching their entire celebration until the lights went out and everyone left for their homes. * I climbed the stairs to the second floor, walked down the dimly lit hallway, but I could hear them perfectly—making love in the master bedroom. Her feminine moans slipped through the crack of the slightly open door. I saw myself pushing it open gently. The moonlight streamed in through the large window, illuminating that figure riding Dorian, her back facing the entrance. "Alpha, tell me I'm better than her… Mmm… Come on, Dorian, tell me I'm better than that frigid Valeria." "You're the best, baby… don't even compare yourself to that stiff. Do me in her bed, come on… wasn't that what you always wanted?" Their filthy words hit my ears, and it was the final trigger I needed for everything to spiral out of control in an instant. I lunged at them on the bed. C3 THE OWNER OF THE CASTLE VALERIA I hear piercing screams, the sound of shattering glass, a savage roar, an Alpha's growls, struggling, and fighting. Something hot splashes against my face and arms. My claws shred, and my canines teared. I can't stop. I can't. Rage consumes me from the inside, demanding release. I don't know what I'm doing. I'm not conscious of myself. All I know is that when I regain control of my body, the first thing I see is my red hands. I'm kneeling on the floor, everything around me drenched in red, wreckage, and pieces of what once was a powerful Alpha—Dorian. What have I done? What in the name of the Goddess have I done?! I stare at his severed head, lying just a meter away from me. Those honey-colored eyes still stare back at me in frozen terror, and I feel bile rising in my throat. I vomit to the side, unable to hold it back, disgusted by this scene of death and violence. Did I do all this? There's no one else here. I scan the area, not knowing where Sophia went. The only thing I'm sure of is that someone was thrown through the shattered glass window. I stand up on trembling legs, glance down, but all I see is the forest behind the house and bloodstains across the grass. "Don't let her escape! Sophia, stop crying and tell me clearly what happened!" Voices shouted, hurried footsteps ascending the stairs. It was my mother-in-law's voice. I had to get out of here. I had killed the Alpha, and only a painful death awaited me. Desperately, I looked down. It seemed I had thrown that wretch Sophia out the window. I decided to jump out myself, from the second floor. BAM! The door burst open during my hesitation, and my eyes locked with Anaís, my mother-in-law, the former Luna—Dorian's mother. I saw the shock, the pain, and the fury in her eyes as she took in the scene. "You miserable! You killed my son! You murdered my Dorian! Seize her! Restrain her! I'm going to tear her apart with my bare hands!" She screamed, and the warriors behind her charged at me. I jumped without thinking. "Aaagghhh!" I groaned in pain as I crashed onto the grass, rolling over, but I forced my body to shift into my wolf form and ran with all the strength I had left. I fled into the forest as fast as my weakened legs allowed, escaping death. I don't know if it was adrenaline or sheer will to live, but I ran like a madwoman through unfamiliar lands and tangled woods. Days passed that way, where I only stopped to rest when I was on the verge of collapse, drinking water from mountain streams and feeding on prey that somehow appeared dead before me. Yes, yet another strange thing about my life. The few times I dared to close my eyes, every time I woke up, a small dead animal lay in front of my muzzle. I devoured them without knowing if they were poisonous or where they came from—I just needed energy. All I could think about was surviving. One night, I felt them again. I thought they had grown tired of chasing my trail, but that wasn’t the case. The sound of multiple wolves' footsteps echoed not far away. Desperation and exhaustion consumed me—I couldn't keep running forever. I had been skirting the borders of various packs, trying not to get caught, but that wasn't a solution. "She's just ahead! I can smell her! She will pay for this!" I heard a snarl—already so close to my trail. I could practically feel the danger breathing down my neck as I pushed my legs and lungs past their limit. I was done. They were going to catch me after all this effort. Then I lifted my blue eyes and saw them—above me, a flock of crows. Cawing, circling over my wolf form, as if trying to lead me somewhere. And for some reason, I followed them. I followed their sign and ventured deeper into unfamiliar lands—into the forbidden forest where no one dared enter without an invitation. But I had nothing left to lose. If I was going to die, at least let it be quick and without torture. That's how I crossed through the mist, leading me to the Golden Moon pack, the territory guarded by the Guardians—the land ruled by the Lycan King. * I felt like no one was following me anymore. I had no idea how far I had gone into Golden Moon territory, but suddenly, several powerful warriors blocked my path, surrounding me. "Who are you, and why have you trespassed into our pack?" a massive gray wolf asked coldly, approaching me menacingly. The black wolf I shifted into, so small and fragile, would be considered an Omega—the lowest rank in the pack, the weakest, often reduced to servitude. That was why, when I became Luna, I had felt foolishly grateful to Dorian. "I'm only seeking refuge to rest… I’m sorry for entering your forest. Just a few days, please… I only need a few days to recover and leave." I pleaded, praying my pursuers wouldn't dare follow me here. "Where do you come from? Speak! Why did you cross the Forbidden Forest? No one comes here for no reason! Tell the truth, or I'll rip your head off right now!" He growled, shoving me with his shoulder. I let out a low whimper of pain, unable to resist. Before he could take further action or carry out his threats, darkness consumed my vision, and I felt my body collapse unconscious to the ground. Maybe this time, I wouldn't wake up again. * The next time I opened my eyes, I was in a dark, damp cell, wearing tattered clothes barely covering my battered human body. Only the Goddess knows how I'm still alive. It seems she wants me to suffer—slowly and torturously. BAM! The sound of a metal door slamming jolted me. "So, you're finally awake! Take her out!" A massive, bald, intimidating man ordered two guards, who dragged me out. It was that gray wolf. I didn’t even have the strength to walk, let alone resist. They took me to a small room where the questioning began—trying to dominate me with his Alpha presence. But it didn’t work. I had no inner wolf to submit. I spent hours there, sitting on a hard chair, my hands tied behind me with ropes cutting into my skin. No matter how much freezing water they threw at me, how much they shouted or threatened, I kept my story and waited to die. My head hung limply, eyes closed, exhausted. At least they hadn’t beaten me or done worse. I've heard horrible stories about this pack of barbarians. "Fine. Since you refuse to talk, you know what awaits you. I've given you the chance to confess." His dark eyes locked on mine, giving me his final warning, but I had nothing more to say. He drew a dagger, yanked my hair back, exposing my neck, ready to slit my throat. I saw hesitation in his eyes when my black hair fell away, revealing my hideous scars. Maybe I looked pitiful—but he had a job to do. And I was ready for it to end. The dagger lowered, and I resigned myself. But a knock on the door interrupted my death once again, sending my emotions from one extreme to the other. "Now what the hell…? M-Madam… I mean, Housekeeper, what brings you here?" His previously harsh voice turned nearly submissive. Curious, I looked toward the door and saw a short woman with blonde hair tied up neatly, elegant yet stern. "What were you doing here?" Her cold green eyes fixed on mine, and I lowered my head. "She’s an intruder. Pack business—" "You were going to kill her, weren’t you?" she accused. "M-Madam, can we discuss this outside? It's protocol with intruders—" I heard his words stop short as a pair of black boots entered the room, standing right before me. "What's your name, girl?" "Valeria," I whispered weakly. "Look at me when I speak to you!" she ordered, and I lifted my head. She has a superior, imposing aura, and honestly, I think she's more terrifying than the massive brute. "Tell me, Valeria, do you want to live or die? You can survive if you agree to work for me. If not, pretend you never saw me," she offered, leaving me stunned. "W-what kind of work would it be?" "Work for the Guardians, in the castle kitchen or wherever you're needed—as a maid. I offer you shelter and food in exchange, a new chance to live," she said without breaking eye contact. I hesitated, feeling like I was selling my soul to another ruthless ruler. The Guardians were the Lycans, and the worst of them all was their leader, Aldric, the "Specter Slayer," whom all werewolves considered their king, though he didn’t seem to care about the title. "I don't have all day. Are you coming or not?" she pressed. "Housekeeper, this woman is a stranger… how can she enter the castle with the Guardians? We don't know her intentions—" "I don't care why you entered these cursed lands. Your past stays behind if you accept my offer. But if you betray me or plot anything behind my back, slitting your throat will be the least of my punishments," the woman threatened, leaving me with only a second to decide. Live or die. Start anew in a strange place, possibly filled with more humiliation and suffering—or die now and end my miserable existence. "I'll go with you. I accept the job," I finally chose to survive. * The Golden Moon pack was located in a valley, surrounded by dense forest with thick fog, and perched atop a hill in the distance was an imposing ancient stone castle. We traveled there in a carriage, rolling along cobblestone streets. This pack was massive, far more powerful than my former one. I remained silent the entire way, my black hair always hiding the scars on my face, my head bowed, not wanting to draw attention. The enormous ebony doors opened, carved stone walls rising tall and powerful, with strange statues perched on the dark eaves. At last, we arrived at an inner courtyard, and I stepped down from the carriage with some discomfort. I stared at the looming castle, half-shrouded in mist, more nightmarish than inviting. "Come. I'll give you your uniform and show you your room," she ordered, and I followed her inside. The moment we crossed the entrance, we were greeted by a massive hall. A chandelier filled with candles hung in the center, illuminating the spiraling staircases that seemed to stretch endlessly upward. I was distracted for a moment, staring at the glossy black-and-white marble floor, when something seemed to fall from the ceiling. BAM! I stumbled back, startled, barely containing a scream of pure panic as a woman's corpse crashed at my feet. She was headless, and blood still gushed from her severed neck, staining the entire floor—and even my legs. The head rolled down next; lifeless eyes frozen in a horrified expression. I looked up, trembling, and at the top of the stairs, a pair of gray, lupine, savage eyes stared back at me for a few seconds, chilling my blood to the core. C4 TAKING OUT THEIR LOVERS VALERIA His entire demeanor screamed, I'm the damn master of everything here, the absolute ruler. I immediately lowered my head, trembling. It didn’t matter that I lacked an inner she-wolf— the power radiating from that man felt like it could suffocate you, crush your soul, and he wasn't even standing that close to me. He was a Lycan, the superior species of werewolves, the ultimate evolution, and I was almost certain this was the most powerful of them all—Aldric Thorne, the Lycan King. "Sasha, take out the trash and make sure my next personal maid isn’t a scheming one, or she'll lose more than her head," his deep, cold, and intimidating voice echoed, followed by the sound of footsteps retreating. "This is a disaster. That's the fifth one in two months. I don’t know what goes through these girls' heads. I warned them," the housekeeper muttered as she approached, pulling a small vial from the dead woman’s hand. "Another one who tried to please the King thinking she could be different and rise. Brainless. I'll call a servant to take her away. And your first task begins now—clean up this mess." And so, my work in the Lycan King's castle began. The first lesson I learned: never, ever try to mess with that dangerous man, or you'll end up headless. Unfortunately, I soon found myself on the razor's edge again. * Sasha introduced me to the staff, a group of she-wolves and wolves working in the castle, attending to the Guardians. They all stared at me as if they were looking at a monster. I didn’t care—I just wanted to keep existing and stay invisible. "The Guardians"—that’s what they called the five Lycans who lived in this ancient, dark castle. They enforced the laws of our world, or at least those affecting werewolves, maintaining balance with other supernatural creatures. They delivered justice, protection, and punishment—often in the most brutal, merciless ways. Especially the Lycan King. At least, that's what I had always heard. I was forbidden from climbing the stairs or wandering beyond the service quarters. And honestly, I didn’t plan to try. I focused on working and healing with the medicine the housekeeper gave me. The food here was good too. Except for the first day, I had gone three days without seeing any of the other Guardians. Until this morning. * "Hey, I heard the housekeeper saying she still hasn’t found a suitable candidate for the King's maid. Maybe she'll give us a chance." I was scrubbing the floor on my knees, listening to the whispers echoing through the castle's massive kitchen. My head stayed down, and my long black bangs nearly covered my eyes, helping to conceal the disfigurement on my face. My hands kept moving the cloth over the tiles, but ignoring the gossip was impossible. Suddenly, the room went silent. Heels echoed from the hallway, and tension filled the air— it was the housekeeper. "Stop what you're doing. I want all of you in a line," she ordered, her voice sharp. The cooks, maids, and even me—the lowly cleaner—all lined up like prisoners, standing side by side. She began her inspection, passing each trembling figure, heads bowed low. When her shadow passed in front of me, I thought she would move on. She didn’t. "What was your name again?" she asked. "Valeria, ma'am," I replied softly. Her cold finger pressed beneath my chin, forcing me to raise my head. My blue eyes met her intimidating green gaze. "Good. I think I'll try a different strategy this time. Come with me," she ordered, and a sense of dread twisted in my chest. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the stares from the other women in the line. Bitter glares filled with jealousy, anger, envy. Nothing good. That much was certain. "Listen carefully, Valeria. You're going to be King Aldric's personal maid," she dropped the bombshell casually, as if it were nothing, walking toward the other side of the kitchen. "Do you know how to cook, iron, organize a man’s things, his clothes, and so on?" "Y-yes, ma'am. But… I don’t think I'm the right choice for the position. Perhaps someone more—" "It's not optional," she cut me off, turning abruptly. "You either accept it, or you leave. I don't need a floor cleaner right now. I need a maid for the King. Understood?" I had no choice but to nod. Sometimes, I forgot that this harsh woman had saved my life. Though, honestly, I still didn’t know why—especially now that she was sending me straight into the Lycan's den. "Memorize everything I'm about to say. The King wakes up at… He doesn’t like… Prefers it this way… And his meals are only prepared by the cook from this section. Make sure it’s always her… And you must taste it before serving him." She paced through the kitchen, the laundry area, practically the entire service zone, listing the King's preferences and dislikes. I followed, my brain nearly short-circuiting from the overwhelming information. I need to write all this down later! "Alright. You'll deliver his first breakfast now. Do exactly as I tell you,” she said, placing a silver tray full of covered dishes in my hands. "And Valeria… remember, head down. Stay invisible. You're nothing but a piece of furniture." "And I trust you haven't forgotten the scene from your first day here. If you try anything against the King, believe me, he was merciful with that woman." Her warning made me swallow hard as I nodded. I didn’t consider myself a coward, but it felt like I was marching straight to the gallows as I climbed the forbidden stairs, moving through the dim candlelit corridors leading to the Guardian leader's quarters. I reached the only door in this wing—an enormous wooden door with intricate carvings—and tried to recall every instruction. "Don't knock at this hour. Go straight inside." So, I did. Balancing the tray carefully, I twisted the heavy doorknob. Step by step, I entered the den of the big bad wolf, avoiding unnecessary glances around. I immediately noticed the large wooden table at the center, the dim lighting, and I focused on setting the breakfast properly. But then I heard it—and smelled it. The scent of lust. Through my bangs, I glanced toward a black door, slightly ajar. Muffled female moans seeped through, despite being closed. More than one woman’s voice. The rhythmic sound of something hitting a wall echoed. Maybe the bed—I didn’t know, and I didn’t care. The most important rule: head down, stay invisible. Don't speak. Don't look. Don't listen. I was so focused on remembering every detail of his preferences, circling the table, that I didn’t even notice when the sounds stopped. "Who are you?" a dominant voice behind me made me flinch. My trembling fists tightened, and I turned, staring down at the gray rug. "Your Majesty, my name is Valeria. I am your new maid," I managed without stuttering. A massive shadow loomed over me, every instinct screaming danger, run—but I stood firm as he placed a finger beneath my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. I expected disgust at my scarred face. Instead, I saw fierce, intimidating gray eyes studying me—so captivating they resembled lethal steel. "Where's your inner wolf?" he asked, frowning. How had he noticed with just one glance? "I… I’m not entirely sure, sir. I suffered a traumatic experience before I turned eighteen, and her spirit never appeared. But… I can shift into my wolf form. Others say it's a curse." I added quickly, half-expecting to be dismissed on my first day. Scarred, cursed—what a perfect maid. "Is that why your face hasn't healed?" he asked, his voice calm but piercing. "I suppose so, sir. My healing is… slower than others." He said nothing, but his intense scrutiny made my skin crawl. Did I say the wrong thing? I avoided lingering on his rugged features, but it was becoming clear why so many women risked losing their heads just for a night in his bed. Aldric Thorne was a man built for sin. A towering figure, nearly two meters tall, with a powerful, scarred body, bold and commanding. Muscular, rough, impossibly attractive. And despite his icy aura, his long shoulder-length hair was deep crimson, just like his short beard—like fire, like blood he could spill without flinching. "I don't care about your peculiarities, but I do expect you to have understood the rules clearly because I won't tolerate disobedience or tricks," he warned me, his voice dangerously low and guttural. I nodded, swallowing hard. "Yes, your maje—" "And call me Sir. I don't like that Your Majesty nonsense," he clarified, finally releasing me and walking toward the other side of the room. I exhaled, realizing I had been holding my breath the entire time. Yet, I could still catch that scent lingering from his skin, something like aged wine—rich, and intoxicating. Could it be some cologne? I couldn't detect the pheromones of werewolves like others could. "They'll be here soon to collect those women. Make sure they leave and clean up everything," he ordered without even sparing me a glance, then disappeared through a door leading to what seemed like another room. I remained standing there in the dim light, frozen for a moment. Then, clenching my fists, I gathered my resolve and moved to deal with his lovers still in bed. I opened the door and stared in shock at the chaotic scene inside. The room was dimly lit, clothes strewn across the floor, and in the center, three women lay sprawled. The heavy scent filled the air, making it hard to breathe. "Umm… ladies, it's time to leave," I said softly, but none of them reacted, their eyes shut as if completely oblivious. They looked exhausted, their bodies marked with bites, bruises, and a mess of fluids staining their thighs. "The King ordered you to leave. You need to—" "Shut up, you annoying brat!" snarled the blonde lying in the middle of the two brunettes, even throwing a pillow at me, which I narrowly dodged. Well, they still have some energy left, it seems. Okay, this wasn’t going as smoothly as I had imagined, and they were already settling back down as if planning to sleep there. Aren't they uncomfortable covered in all that… stuff? But I couldn't fail my first task. I knew he had done this on purpose—to test me. I headed to the bathroom, filled a basin with cold water, and placed it near the bed. Rolling up my sleeves, exposing my pale arms, I then walked over to the massive crimson curtains, grabbed the heavy fabric, and yanked them open with force. "Aaaahh! Close it, right now! Close the curtain!" they screeched like the possessed, even though the sky was overcast. The sun never really shone brightly here—this land was always cloaked in thick fog. Grabbing the basin, I lifted it and—splash! —drenched them in icy water to snap them out of it. "Have you lost your damn mind, maid?!" C5 THE KING'S MAID VALERIA "Aahh, it’s horrible, she’s deformed!" "You’re just jealous, that’s why you want to keep us away from the King!" "The Lord has said you must leave now," I repeated impassively, while they hurled insults at me. But I felt nothing—not cold, not heat. I thought about how to get them out since, weakened or not, there were three of them and only one of me. Just then, loud knocks echoed from the side door leading to the hallway, a door I hadn’t even noticed before. It had to be the person sent to remove them from the castle. I walked over and opened it, revealing two sturdy servants who entered without a word. The women began to resist, screaming that their bodies were only for the King, threatening that our heads would roll. I didn’t need to be here long to see through their lies. That man had used them like disposable objects and was now discarding them like trash. The blonde rushed toward the door leading to the dining hall, but I stepped in front of her, standing firm and blocking her way. "Have some dignity and leave already. The King has ordered it. Don’t risk dying." "I want him to tell me himself! Last night, he showed me otherwise! Get out of my way!" she lunged at me, baring her fangs. I defended myself, grabbing her arms mid-air as we struggled. Her long claws scratched me in her fury, and I knew I could control her because, right now, she was weak. This she-wolf was stronger than me—honestly, anyone was stronger than me. With the help of the servants, we managed to drag the last crazed woman out of the room. I shut the door, breathing heavily. "Quite the first day on the job," I muttered in resignation, staring at the disaster I now had to clean. * I wiped the sweat from my forehead, taking a moment to catch my breath, surveying the nearly tidy room. The worst part was the bed. Even after removing the dirty sheets, I had gone overboard with the water. So, I thought of pushing the mattress closer to the window to let it air out and catch some sun. "Mmnn," I grunted, yanking at the heavy king-size mattress, my hands trembling. I doubted I could move it. I kept struggling when— "How many centuries does it take you to organize a room?" His voice startled me—I hadn’t heard him enter. I turned to apologize, but a wrong step, my nerves, and apparently a sticky substance I’d left on the floor caused me to lose my balance and fall forward. By instinct, I grabbed onto the first thing I could, falling to my knees with my eyes shut tight. Something had slipped from my hands, and now another thing, thick, brushed against my nose. A dark, musky, intoxicating scent assaulted my senses. When I opened my eyes again and saw the sight before me, I wished I could die right there without needing him to kill me. In my hands was a black towel—I assumed it had been around the King's hips—and I was on my knees, clutching his powerful thighs, with a massive, veiny member right in front of my wide eyes. «Girl, this could make you cry» was the first thing that crossed my mind in my nervous breakdown. And to think it was only half... not even Dorian’s compared in detail. "Should I fetch a tape measure so you can size it up too?" His cold voice snapped me out of my frozen state. Terrified, I raised my gaze to see him completely naked, in all his glory, his burgundy hair loose and tousled, damp from the shower, and I could swear his gray eyes held a mocking glint. "Your Majesty, I’m so sorry! Please, spare the life of this humble servant who doesn’t deserve your mercy!" I threw myself to the ground, pressing my forehead against the hard surface, begging him. What I had done was unforgivable. By the Goddess, I had even stayed there... staring at it. His threatening shadow loomed over my trembling body. I clenched my eyes shut, bracing for the end. "I’ll leave right away... I beg you... I’ll leave the castle... please..." "I don’t have the patience to find a new servant every day. You leave when I decide so. Now get up." His deep voice rumbled close to my ear, and I felt him tugging at the towel I still clutched in my hands. I released it immediately, sweat trailing down my back as my entire body trembled. "Besides, if you’re going to serve me, it won’t be the last time you see it. It’s not a big deal. Come to the dining room," he added before his bare footsteps echoed away from the room. Swallowing nervously, I stood on shaky legs. «Come on, Valeria, focus, please. » "Try the breakfast," he ordered, gesturing to the food set on the table. He sat, dominating the large chair, observing my every move. I picked up the fork and cut a small piece from each dish, tasting everything bite by bite. "If something is not to your liking, I can ask the kitchen to—" "That won’t be necessary. Everything’s fine," he interrupted and then fell silent. I kept my gaze on the floor, unsure of what he was waiting for, frantically reviewing every rule in my mind. "Do you think I’m a savage who eats with his hands?" "What? No, no, Your Maj... Sir..." I quickly lifted my gaze and saw him glancing at the fork still in my hand. Holy Goddess, I had covered the only utensil with saliva! The housekeeper hadn’t mentioned I had to taste the food here too! "I... I’ll get another, I’m so sorry—" "You seem to apologize well," he said as he took the fork from my hand. "It’s dirty, I... I ate with it—" I didn’t finish because he wiped it with a napkin and began eating calmly. I stepped back, standing in the corner, awaiting his orders. Through my bangs, I occasionally stole glances at him. He looked relaxed wearing just the towel, eating and reviewing some documents beside him. No matter what the Lycan King did, his aggressive aura filled the entire space, demanding only obedience and submission. This was my new master. And honestly, I was starting to wonder if I’d be better off running far away from this castle... and this pack. Aldric Thorne was the most dangerous thing I could have crossed paths with. *** Days passed, and despite my rookie mistakes, I managed to survive. The Lord wasn’t constantly present at the castle either—he often traveled between packs or faced dangerous situations. I hadn’t even seen the other “Guardians” until one morning. "Phew, I honestly don’t know how you handle the pressure and temptation," said Juliette. She was the only staff member who had approached me. An extroverted, cheerful girl. I didn’t consider her a friend, though—I'd never trust a woman like that again. But at least her chatter kept me entertained. We were walking through the underground corridor carrying laundry baskets when a side door leading to one of the many training gyms opened. A massive Lycan emerged. I knew by the powerful aura he projected. We immediately lowered our heads, waiting for him to pass, but his steps approached us instead. "Are these clean towels?" asked a strong but calm male voice. "Yes, yes, Sir," I answered, realizing I was the one carrying them. I glanced up for a second. Enchanting golden eyes stared back at me. I quickly lowered my gaze to the carpet and handed him a towel, but as he reached out, our fingers brushed for a moment. His touch was warm. Despite being intimidating, this Lycan projected a protective aura—not as sharp and wild as the King's. "I’m sorry... I’m so sorry—" "Relax, it’s fine. Thank you," he replied, taking the towel and walking away down the hallway. And then I dared to look at his back. Blond hair, massive like all Lycans, powerful, his muscular, sweaty back glistening, dressed in black combat gear. It seemed like he had been training. For some reason, the combination of his eyes and hair reminded me a bit of Dorian. I didn’t want to remember him at all, but the mind could be a traitor. He had been the first—and only—man I’d loved. "Right? He’s so handsome! I mean, they’re all attractive and hot, but for me, the best ones are the King and Guardian Quinn... Though the King, ugh, that man is pure fire. I’m torn—what do you think, Valeria? Would you prefer the King or Quinn?" Before I could scold her for talking so carelessly, her face turned pale, staring behind me in panic. A powerful presence pressed against my back, hot breath brushing against my ear. "I’d like to know too, Valeria. Who would you prefer? And why did you let another man touch what’s mine?" The basket in my hands begins to tremble along with my hands. I'm done for. And even though I know he’s talking about the towels, for some reason, it feels like he’s talking about me. "Ss… Sir..." "Get out!" he ordered Juliette, who looked at me for a second with guilt but had no choice but to flee almost running. I remained with my back to him. Could I run too? "I'm still waiting, Valeria. Tell me, are you unhappy with the position you were given? Would you prefer to be Quinn's personal maid instead? Turn around!"	LEARN_MORE	https://befant.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=18151&u	Galaxy in the Story	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	2,490	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	befant.com	VIDEO		https://befant.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=18151&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476001267_633256662540040_1784248673920599431_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=mocggVXwP9sQ7kNvgE1lLSO&_nc_oc=AdhBgR-zb7fKAnNk4GtQoKGIcqtp0Vm6fEMQkHjE2XATtedI103BDSF10B9tPC3m7dafjDzWsd3f6YSM98Kp2zJP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=ALnMb24EYSndeJUAhMM_xme&oh=00_AYCexrFsChqvJ1igSbhp9VQlx1fQ2Vwq3mv8YRUAZcRXIw&oe=67CBC187	PERSON_PROFILE	Galaxy in the Story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,756,185	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2756859}'	No	2025-03-03 12:18	active	2772	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	"Are... are you sure, Esther?" I ask with a broken voice. My heart races, filled with happiness. "Very sure, Luna. You're carrying a little wolf!" "Why haven't I been able to smell it, or his father?" I ask, worried. "It's very recent, perhaps that's why. Give it a few more days and you should be able to sense the pheromones." She replies, and I nod, my eyes blurred with tears. I am the Luna of the "Autumn Forest" pack. Three years ago, I married the man I love madly, despite not being destined mates, my Alpha Dorian. I've given everything to be the perfect Luna, the pillar he can lean on. However, a shadow looms over my marriage—the topic of an heir. I've never been able to get pregnant, and I admit I don't share the bed with Dorian as often. But I know his duties as Alpha keep him extremely busy and stressed. "Please, don't tell anyone in the pack. I want to surprise my husband." "Don't worry, Luna, I won't say anything. Congratulations!" She smiles at me, and I return the smile, overflowing with excitement and happiness. Despite being a foreigner, not originally belonging to this pack, ever since my parents died and the previous Alpha took me in, I've never felt rejected or looked down upon. That's why I've devoted myself fully to my duties as Luna. I'm grateful for my life and the wonderful man I'm married to. *** "What's with all this food? Is there going to be a party?" "Hands off!" I swat away the greedy claws of Sophia, my best friend, who sneaked in through the back kitchen door. "But wow, puff pastry tart and everything!" she says, sitting on a stool. Honestly, I may have gone a bit overboard with the dishes, but I'm so happy I want everything to be perfect. All my Alpha's favorite foods are ready! "Well, today is Dorian's and my anniversary. I want to celebrate with an intimate dinner," I say, turning back to the caramel on the stove. I don't hear her respond, so I turn halfway, curious. "What's wrong?" "N-nothing, nothing... I just heard the Alpha had an emergency today. Didn't he tell you?" she asks, and I frown. Actually, Dorian doesn't usually explain much about his work. I guess it's to avoid worrying me. "No, but he'll come back anyway. He knows today is special." I respond, completely convinced. She looks at me strangely. Lately, I can't quite understand her, but she's the first person who approached me in this pack and has always supported me. I value her greatly as a friend. "Sophie, there's something I want to tell you, but... I'll tell you tomorrow. It's very important to me," I say suddenly, wanting to share the good news with her, but not before confessing it to Dorian. "Really? Can't you tell me now?" she asks, gossip-mode activated, leaning over the counter while munching on a homemade cookie. "No, no. Tomorrow. I promise you'll be the second to know," I reply, and I can feel my happiness radiating from every pore. "Fine, I'll leave you with your mystery then. I've got things to do. Happy anniversary," she grumbles, frustrated I didn't spill the secret, and leaves the same way she came. I check the clock. There's still time. I take off my apron and head to the second floor to shower and get dressed nicely. Everything has to be perfect tonight, celebrating with my beloved mate. * I glance at the clock for the thousandth time, sitting on the sofa. It's past midnight, and Dorian hasn't arrived. I look at the cold dishes on the dining table and get up, resigned to reheating them again. I'm in the middle of that task when I hear the front door open and close. His delicious scent tingles my nose, warming my stomach. I glance at my burgundy dress, smoothing it out and fixing my hair in the hallway mirror. My jet-black hair is tied in a high ponytail, and my intensely blue eyes, highlighted with makeup, stare back at me. I step into the foyer, watching my imposing Alpha enter the door. "My love, how was your day? Lots of work, right?" I grab the coat he's holding to hang it up. I see him clutching some documents, but I assume they're pack matters. I move closer to kiss him, but he steps back. "I'm sweaty and dirty from the road. Don't contaminate yourself," he says, his piercing honey eyes staring at me—eyes I adore despite their constant coldness. It's just part of his nature. He carries too many responsibilities after inheriting the role so young when his father died. His blond hair is messily handsome, and for some reason, damp. I can even catch the scent of an unfamiliar shower gel. Why would he shower before coming home? And he said he was dirty, yet it's clear he just bathed. "S-sure, give me a second to reheat dinner. You must be hungry..." "I'm not hungry. Valeria, we need to talk." "But the dinner—" "Forget dinner. Let's go to the living room. I need to tell you something," his authoritative voice makes me tense. I follow him, starting to feel deeply worried. My hand slips into my skirt pocket, clutching the folded document stating I'm having his baby. "Why was the table so full of dishes? Were you planning a party?" he asks, glancing at the dining room. My heart clenches. "Love, I know you've been busy with pack duties. But... don't tell me you forgot our anniversary? Today marks three years since we mated," I say, sitting on the couch. I expect him to sit beside me, but instead, he chooses the armchair opposite. Dorian has never been overly affectionate, but tonight he's too distant. Too cold. An alarm goes off inside me. "Of course, I remembered. You have no idea how long I've been waiting for our third anniversary," he replies, but I don't see a trace of joy in his expression. I know everything will change with my news. Our relationship hasn't been great because of this. The pack elders keep pressuring him for an heir. When I tell him about the baby, he'll be happy. "I'll be quick because I can't stand this any—" "Wait! Wait, Dorian. Let me show you something first, and then you can tell me what you wanted to say," I interrupt him, feeling a strong premonition, I won't like his next words. Lowering my head, I take out the folded paper and hand it to him, my heart racing with emotion. He takes it, reading silently as I watch him, anxious, waiting for his joy to match mine. "I'm pregnant! I'm carrying your pup! We'll have an heir for the pack. I'm sure the Goddess has blessed us with a son!" I can't hold back and blurt it out directly. Tears in my eyes, I rise and move toward him, wanting to embrace him. But as in love as I am, even I can see this isn't the reaction I expected from the father of my child. "Are you sure about this, or is it just a trick to keep me tied to you?" he suddenly says, rising and pushing me away when I try to hug him. "Dorian... Of course, I'm sure. Look, that's the midwife's handwriting. Why would I lie about something so important? My love, what's wrong? What's happening, my Alpha?" "No, no. Damn it!" I watch him pace like a caged wolf around the living room. "This can't be happening. Not now!" "Dorian..." "Did you tell my mother? Anyone else?!" he asks suddenly, approaching me and gripping my shoulders tightly. "N-no, love. I was waiting to tell you first. I thought... you'd be happy. I know they've been pressuring you. Alpha, you don't have to be tense anymore. We'll have our family." I raise a trembling hand to caress his cheek, but he just stares at me with those golden eyes, silent. I can't figure out what's going on in his head. "You're right... I've been very stressed. I'm sorry," he suddenly pulls me into his arms, and I finally sigh, relieved, hugging him back tenderly. For a second, I feared he wasn't happy. "We'll get through this together, my Alpha. I'll be the perfect Luna so no one will judge you," I whisper, lifting my head. I want him to kiss me, to make love to me like we haven't in a long time. "Let's go for a run. A wild, unrestricted anniversary night." He suddenly suggests it, taking my hand and pulling me toward the back of our house, which borders the pack's forest. "Shift into your she-wolf," he commands, and I watch him undressing. He's so charming and strong. His hair glows under the moonlight, and I begin the transformation into my "she-wolf," one of the greatest lies and secrets of my life—something not even Dorian knows. * We run freely across the pack's lands. But I notice how we keep going farther and farther, even crossing the borders, yet I just follow Dorian's massive white wolf racing wildly ahead of me. We reach a remote place, at the edge of a deep cliff, but above us, the moon shines intensely, and the forest landscape stretches far below. "Where is this? We're outside our pack's territory... Aren't we trespassing on someone's land?" I gaze into the distance from the edge, mesmerized by the view, having already shifted back into human form, but no one responds. I feel uneasy and start to turn around. However, something inside me stirs with alarm. A crow caws in the distance—but it's already too late. "Do... Dorian, wha—?! Aaaaaahhh!" I scream as I feel wolf claws tearing into my abdomen, deeply ripping through me. Terrified and shocked by the sudden attack, I try to run. I attempt to shift back into my wolf to escape into the forest, away from whatever is happening, away from this rabid Alpha wolf whose blood-red eyes glare at me with pure hatred—but it's impossible to flee. "Ahhh! Let me go! Dorian, what are you doing?! What are you doing?! Ahhh! Help! Help!" I scream as he jumps on me when I try to escape. C2 THE WORST BETRAYAL VALERIA He bites my thigh viciously and drags me beneath his body, controlling me mercilessly. I try to resist, to call for help, my hands clutching my stomach, trying to protect my pup, but his claws, like deadly weapons, pierce my skin, tearing apart my small, vulnerable body. I have to raise my arms instinctively when his sharp claws aim for my face, and I scream in agony as a deep wound slices across my cheek from my forehead. Leaving my belly exposed, he struck our child. "Nooo, not the pup, please, Dorian, not our son!" Tears poured endlessly from my eyes as I begged him, but his canines tore through my flesh, and his claws dug into the depths of my insides with chilling cruelty, seeking to rip out the life growing inside me. I don’t know how long this agony lasted—I sobbed, pleading as long as I could speak. The pain in my entire body was unbearable, but worse was the pain in my soul, bleeding and shattered. I was discarded on the ground like trash, on the edge of a precipice, my consciousness nearly slipping away from the pain when I saw him shift into his human form. "You thought you could keep me tied to you forever?" he yelled furiously. His eyes were cold and disgusted, a look I had never seen before. "Did you really think I loved you, that I was dying to have a child with you? What a waste!" He kicked me with rage, but I no longer had the strength to even moan in pain. "Three damn years I've been separated from my mate because of you!" he roared, pouring out all the hatred he'd stored up over time. "Why…?" I barely managed to whisper, my face swollen, my tongue heavy, and my throat bleeding from a deep wound. "Because you came to the pack, the miserable orphan, and that old lady said you would give birth to the strongest Alphas, powerful enough to elevate my bloodline." "Pure nonsense from that crazy old hag, but my mother believed her and forced me to give up my mate for you because you were infatuated with me! She gave me three damn years—that was our deal. If you didn’t succeed, I’d be free." "So, today I come, ready to rid myself of an obstacle like you, and you say that you’re carrying my son," he laughed like a psychopath. "I won’t let you do it again, Valeria. You won't ruin my life again. This is the end for you!" He walked toward me, and I saw death staring me in the face. I wanted to say so many things... «I didn't know you already loved someone else. I was just a foolish, infatuated girl, but I never forced you to love me back. How could you deceive me, fake everything all this time? Our child… how could you… how could you do this…?!» I felt so powerless as I lay there, sobbing, bloody, and dying. I wished I could connect with his wolf, scream out this injustice, but I couldn’t—not even that. I didn’t have an inner she-wolf. I could only shift my body and pretend. Some said it was trauma from my adoptive parents’ violent death, where only I survived. Others claimed it was a curse, but I knew that wasn't true. I had never felt the presence of a wolf spirit within me. "Goodbye, dear wife. You don't seem so special after all," he said cynically, and with his foot, he kicked me over the cliff's edge. The last thing I knew was the sensation of falling into the cold void. I looked up at the dark sky as shadows of crows circled above my head, like messengers of death. "I'm so sorry, baby. I couldn't protect you." * "Why aren't her wounds healing properly?" "I can't waste the pack's blood on a stranger. Jake already did too much rescuing her from the rogue woods. She has to heal on her own." "Honestly, I don't even know how this woman is still alive. Poor thing… her body is horribly damaged, especially her belly… and her face." I heard voices talking nearby, hands examining me. An unbearable pain worse than death itself burned through my body, dragging me between consciousness and darkness. I don’t know how much time passed or where I was, but when I opened my eyes, I saw a white ceiling. I looked around and saw a small room, lying on a personal bed. "You're awake?" a female voice spoke suddenly beside me, and I saw an unfamiliar face. I tried to speak, but for some reason, I couldn't—it was as if my vocal cords refused to work. "Don't strain yourself. Stay calm. You… I don't think you can talk right now because of the wound on your neck," she explained with a troubled expression. And then, my foggy mind remembered—everything. The first thing I did was reach for my belly, trying to sit up despite the dizziness and searing pain. "Don't move! Wait, calm down, calm down!" she stopped me and eased me back down, but I needed to know—desperately—I had to know if a miracle had occurred. I looked at her intensely and then at my stomach, wrapped in thick bandages. "Yes… I understand what you're asking, but… I'm sorry… your belly was completely torn. Your womb was destroyed, and your pup… didn't make it. It was impossible to save him. We don't even know how you're still alive." I felt the tears pouring uncontrollably from my eyes. I closed them in pure agony, my soul shattering. My lips trembled, my entire body shook, and ragged sobs escaped my torn throat. Why did this have to happen to me? Why did everything around me have to turn into a nightmare? My baby, my pup was innocent. Why did something so horrible have to happen to him? "Calm down, please! You can't get like this! Aston, I need you here! Bring the sedative! Now, Aston, hurry!" "Aaaahh! Aaaahh!" I heard distorted screams, a cry so raw it could freeze the blood and shatter hearts. A desperate, broken woman wailed—and then I realized… it was me. That wretched woman who had lost everything… was me. * Days have passed. I know a man rescued me from the forest beneath the cliff. I'm staying in a small pack not far from Autumn Forest. With my hands still covered in wounds, I try to splash water on my face, but I can't even bear to touch my skin. I lift my head, and as I do every time that I face a mirror, I have to summon all my courage. My face, once beautiful and envied by many she-wolves, now bears a horrific scar running across my forehead and another deep one on my left cheek. Dorian not only destroyed my child's life, my womb, but he also scarred my face. It should have healed, but I know it won't. I don't possess the rapid healing ability of werewolves. Yes, I heal—but slower, and scars remain. I step outside the small room and hear the healer and the she-wolf who treated me speaking quietly. They're discussing how I've used too many resources and how they may have to ask me to leave soon since packs rarely welcome outsiders so easily. But the she-wolf argues that I’m still in terrible condition. I appreciate her care and empathy, but it won't be necessary to cast me out. I've already decided—I’ll leave tonight on my own. * Hours later, I walk through the dark forest like a lost soul, the damp bandages soaked with reopened wounds, bleeding. I don't care—my legs keep moving in a single direction. Hiding in the bushes, I watch the patrol line carefully. I know exactly how to slip past without being detected—I designed this defense rotation myself for Dorian. Like so many things I did for him and the pack. I slip away into the shadows, as quickly as my battered body allows. The night and darkness are my allies. It's as if they amplify my strange abilities. I hear voices, laughter, and lights in the distance—from the backyard of what had been my home for three long years. I walk as if in slow motion, wearing old sneakers and a worn-out dress that the she-wolf from the hospital gave me. "Ladies and gentlemen, I've gathered you all here today because I could no longer hide my happiness. I’m finally marrying my beloved mate, the woman of my life, my sweet Sophia, your future Luna." I feel like I'm falling into a cavern of ice as I watch them, smiling and kissing in front of those who once called me Luna. It was my "best friend" Sophia and my traitorous Alpha Dorian, celebrating their union while my body should have been rotting beneath that cliff if their plan had worked. Traitorous hypocrite! That woman was even wearing one of my evening dresses, made up with my things, stealing my life without a trace of remorse. She had deceived me all this time, just as I had been blind to everyone in this pack, and worse, to the man who lay beside me every night while thinking of another woman. Even the midwife who told me about my pregnancy was there! Dorian must have promised her something to keep her silent. I clenched my fists so tightly my nails dug into my palms, my teeth chattering with rage. I waited, waited like the deranged psychopath I had become, watching their entire celebration until the lights went out and everyone left for their homes. * I climbed the stairs to the second floor, walked down the dimly lit hallway, but I could hear them perfectly—making love in the master bedroom. Her feminine moans slipped through the crack of the slightly open door. I saw myself pushing it open gently. The moonlight streamed in through the large window, illuminating that figure riding Dorian, her back facing the entrance. "Alpha, tell me I'm better than her… Mmm… Come on, Dorian, tell me I'm better than that frigid Valeria." "You're the best, baby… don't even compare yourself to that stiff. Do me in her bed, come on… wasn't that what you always wanted?" Their filthy words hit my ears, and it was the final trigger I needed for everything to spiral out of control in an instant. I lunged at them on the bed. C3 THE OWNER OF THE CASTLE VALERIA I hear piercing screams, the sound of shattering glass, a savage roar, an Alpha's growls, struggling, and fighting. Something hot splashes against my face and arms. My claws shred, and my canines teared. I can't stop. I can't. Rage consumes me from the inside, demanding release. I don't know what I'm doing. I'm not conscious of myself. All I know is that when I regain control of my body, the first thing I see is my red hands. I'm kneeling on the floor, everything around me drenched in red, wreckage, and pieces of what once was a powerful Alpha—Dorian. What have I done? What in the name of the Goddess have I done?! I stare at his severed head, lying just a meter away from me. Those honey-colored eyes still stare back at me in frozen terror, and I feel bile rising in my throat. I vomit to the side, unable to hold it back, disgusted by this scene of death and violence. Did I do all this? There's no one else here. I scan the area, not knowing where Sophia went. The only thing I'm sure of is that someone was thrown through the shattered glass window. I stand up on trembling legs, glance down, but all I see is the forest behind the house and bloodstains across the grass. "Don't let her escape! Sophia, stop crying and tell me clearly what happened!" Voices shouted, hurried footsteps ascending the stairs. It was my mother-in-law's voice. I had to get out of here. I had killed the Alpha, and only a painful death awaited me. Desperately, I looked down. It seemed I had thrown that wretch Sophia out the window. I decided to jump out myself, from the second floor. BAM! The door burst open during my hesitation, and my eyes locked with Anaís, my mother-in-law, the former Luna—Dorian's mother. I saw the shock, the pain, and the fury in her eyes as she took in the scene. "You miserable! You killed my son! You murdered my Dorian! Seize her! Restrain her! I'm going to tear her apart with my bare hands!" She screamed, and the warriors behind her charged at me. I jumped without thinking. "Aaagghhh!" I groaned in pain as I crashed onto the grass, rolling over, but I forced my body to shift into my wolf form and ran with all the strength I had left. I fled into the forest as fast as my weakened legs allowed, escaping death. I don't know if it was adrenaline or sheer will to live, but I ran like a madwoman through unfamiliar lands and tangled woods. Days passed that way, where I only stopped to rest when I was on the verge of collapse, drinking water from mountain streams and feeding on prey that somehow appeared dead before me. Yes, yet another strange thing about my life. The few times I dared to close my eyes, every time I woke up, a small dead animal lay in front of my muzzle. I devoured them without knowing if they were poisonous or where they came from—I just needed energy. All I could think about was surviving. One night, I felt them again. I thought they had grown tired of chasing my trail, but that wasn’t the case. The sound of multiple wolves' footsteps echoed not far away. Desperation and exhaustion consumed me—I couldn't keep running forever. I had been skirting the borders of various packs, trying not to get caught, but that wasn't a solution. "She's just ahead! I can smell her! She will pay for this!" I heard a snarl—already so close to my trail. I could practically feel the danger breathing down my neck as I pushed my legs and lungs past their limit. I was done. They were going to catch me after all this effort. Then I lifted my blue eyes and saw them—above me, a flock of crows. Cawing, circling over my wolf form, as if trying to lead me somewhere. And for some reason, I followed them. I followed their sign and ventured deeper into unfamiliar lands—into the forbidden forest where no one dared enter without an invitation. But I had nothing left to lose. If I was going to die, at least let it be quick and without torture. That's how I crossed through the mist, leading me to the Golden Moon pack, the territory guarded by the Guardians—the land ruled by the Lycan King. * I felt like no one was following me anymore. I had no idea how far I had gone into Golden Moon territory, but suddenly, several powerful warriors blocked my path, surrounding me. "Who are you, and why have you trespassed into our pack?" a massive gray wolf asked coldly, approaching me menacingly. The black wolf I shifted into, so small and fragile, would be considered an Omega—the lowest rank in the pack, the weakest, often reduced to servitude. That was why, when I became Luna, I had felt foolishly grateful to Dorian. "I'm only seeking refuge to rest… I’m sorry for entering your forest. Just a few days, please… I only need a few days to recover and leave." I pleaded, praying my pursuers wouldn't dare follow me here. "Where do you come from? Speak! Why did you cross the Forbidden Forest? No one comes here for no reason! Tell the truth, or I'll rip your head off right now!" He growled, shoving me with his shoulder. I let out a low whimper of pain, unable to resist. Before he could take further action or carry out his threats, darkness consumed my vision, and I felt my body collapse unconscious to the ground. Maybe this time, I wouldn't wake up again. * The next time I opened my eyes, I was in a dark, damp cell, wearing tattered clothes barely covering my battered human body. Only the Goddess knows how I'm still alive. It seems she wants me to suffer—slowly and torturously. BAM! The sound of a metal door slamming jolted me. "So, you're finally awake! Take her out!" A massive, bald, intimidating man ordered two guards, who dragged me out. It was that gray wolf. I didn’t even have the strength to walk, let alone resist. They took me to a small room where the questioning began—trying to dominate me with his Alpha presence. But it didn’t work. I had no inner wolf to submit. I spent hours there, sitting on a hard chair, my hands tied behind me with ropes cutting into my skin. No matter how much freezing water they threw at me, how much they shouted or threatened, I kept my story and waited to die. My head hung limply, eyes closed, exhausted. At least they hadn’t beaten me or done worse. I've heard horrible stories about this pack of barbarians. "Fine. Since you refuse to talk, you know what awaits you. I've given you the chance to confess." His dark eyes locked on mine, giving me his final warning, but I had nothing more to say. He drew a dagger, yanked my hair back, exposing my neck, ready to slit my throat. I saw hesitation in his eyes when my black hair fell away, revealing my hideous scars. Maybe I looked pitiful—but he had a job to do. And I was ready for it to end. The dagger lowered, and I resigned myself. But a knock on the door interrupted my death once again, sending my emotions from one extreme to the other. "Now what the hell…? M-Madam… I mean, Housekeeper, what brings you here?" His previously harsh voice turned nearly submissive. Curious, I looked toward the door and saw a short woman with blonde hair tied up neatly, elegant yet stern. "What were you doing here?" Her cold green eyes fixed on mine, and I lowered my head. "She’s an intruder. Pack business—" "You were going to kill her, weren’t you?" she accused. "M-Madam, can we discuss this outside? It's protocol with intruders—" I heard his words stop short as a pair of black boots entered the room, standing right before me. "What's your name, girl?" "Valeria," I whispered weakly. "Look at me when I speak to you!" she ordered, and I lifted my head. She has a superior, imposing aura, and honestly, I think she's more terrifying than the massive brute. "Tell me, Valeria, do you want to live or die? You can survive if you agree to work for me. If not, pretend you never saw me," she offered, leaving me stunned. "W-what kind of work would it be?" "Work for the Guardians, in the castle kitchen or wherever you're needed—as a maid. I offer you shelter and food in exchange, a new chance to live," she said without breaking eye contact. I hesitated, feeling like I was selling my soul to another ruthless ruler. The Guardians were the Lycans, and the worst of them all was their leader, Aldric, the "Specter Slayer," whom all werewolves considered their king, though he didn’t seem to care about the title. "I don't have all day. Are you coming or not?" she pressed. "Housekeeper, this woman is a stranger… how can she enter the castle with the Guardians? We don't know her intentions—" "I don't care why you entered these cursed lands. Your past stays behind if you accept my offer. But if you betray me or plot anything behind my back, slitting your throat will be the least of my punishments," the woman threatened, leaving me with only a second to decide. Live or die. Start anew in a strange place, possibly filled with more humiliation and suffering—or die now and end my miserable existence. "I'll go with you. I accept the job," I finally chose to survive. * The Golden Moon pack was located in a valley, surrounded by dense forest with thick fog, and perched atop a hill in the distance was an imposing ancient stone castle. We traveled there in a carriage, rolling along cobblestone streets. This pack was massive, far more powerful than my former one. I remained silent the entire way, my black hair always hiding the scars on my face, my head bowed, not wanting to draw attention. The enormous ebony doors opened, carved stone walls rising tall and powerful, with strange statues perched on the dark eaves. At last, we arrived at an inner courtyard, and I stepped down from the carriage with some discomfort. I stared at the looming castle, half-shrouded in mist, more nightmarish than inviting. "Come. I'll give you your uniform and show you your room," she ordered, and I followed her inside. The moment we crossed the entrance, we were greeted by a massive hall. A chandelier filled with candles hung in the center, illuminating the spiraling staircases that seemed to stretch endlessly upward. I was distracted for a moment, staring at the glossy black-and-white marble floor, when something seemed to fall from the ceiling. BAM! I stumbled back, startled, barely containing a scream of pure panic as a woman's corpse crashed at my feet. She was headless, and blood still gushed from her severed neck, staining the entire floor—and even my legs. The head rolled down next; lifeless eyes frozen in a horrified expression. I looked up, trembling, and at the top of the stairs, a pair of gray, lupine, savage eyes stared back at me for a few seconds, chilling my blood to the core. C4 TAKING OUT THEIR LOVERS VALERIA His entire demeanor screamed, I'm the damn master of everything here, the absolute ruler. I immediately lowered my head, trembling. It didn’t matter that I lacked an inner she-wolf— the power radiating from that man felt like it could suffocate you, crush your soul, and he wasn't even standing that close to me. He was a Lycan, the superior species of werewolves, the ultimate evolution, and I was almost certain this was the most powerful of them all—Aldric Thorne, the Lycan King. "Sasha, take out the trash and make sure my next personal maid isn’t a scheming one, or she'll lose more than her head," his deep, cold, and intimidating voice echoed, followed by the sound of footsteps retreating. "This is a disaster. That's the fifth one in two months. I don’t know what goes through these girls' heads. I warned them," the housekeeper muttered as she approached, pulling a small vial from the dead woman’s hand. "Another one who tried to please the King thinking she could be different and rise. Brainless. I'll call a servant to take her away. And your first task begins now—clean up this mess." And so, my work in the Lycan King's castle began. The first lesson I learned: never, ever try to mess with that dangerous man, or you'll end up headless. Unfortunately, I soon found myself on the razor's edge again. * Sasha introduced me to the staff, a group of she-wolves and wolves working in the castle, attending to the Guardians. They all stared at me as if they were looking at a monster. I didn’t care—I just wanted to keep existing and stay invisible. "The Guardians"—that’s what they called the five Lycans who lived in this ancient, dark castle. They enforced the laws of our world, or at least those affecting werewolves, maintaining balance with other supernatural creatures. They delivered justice, protection, and punishment—often in the most brutal, merciless ways. Especially the Lycan King. At least, that's what I had always heard. I was forbidden from climbing the stairs or wandering beyond the service quarters. And honestly, I didn’t plan to try. I focused on working and healing with the medicine the housekeeper gave me. The food here was good too. Except for the first day, I had gone three days without seeing any of the other Guardians. Until this morning. * "Hey, I heard the housekeeper saying she still hasn’t found a suitable candidate for the King's maid. Maybe she'll give us a chance." I was scrubbing the floor on my knees, listening to the whispers echoing through the castle's massive kitchen. My head stayed down, and my long black bangs nearly covered my eyes, helping to conceal the disfigurement on my face. My hands kept moving the cloth over the tiles, but ignoring the gossip was impossible. Suddenly, the room went silent. Heels echoed from the hallway, and tension filled the air— it was the housekeeper. "Stop what you're doing. I want all of you in a line," she ordered, her voice sharp. The cooks, maids, and even me—the lowly cleaner—all lined up like prisoners, standing side by side. She began her inspection, passing each trembling figure, heads bowed low. When her shadow passed in front of me, I thought she would move on. She didn’t. "What was your name again?" she asked. "Valeria, ma'am," I replied softly. Her cold finger pressed beneath my chin, forcing me to raise my head. My blue eyes met her intimidating green gaze. "Good. I think I'll try a different strategy this time. Come with me," she ordered, and a sense of dread twisted in my chest. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the stares from the other women in the line. Bitter glares filled with jealousy, anger, envy. Nothing good. That much was certain. "Listen carefully, Valeria. You're going to be King Aldric's personal maid," she dropped the bombshell casually, as if it were nothing, walking toward the other side of the kitchen. "Do you know how to cook, iron, organize a man’s things, his clothes, and so on?" "Y-yes, ma'am. But… I don’t think I'm the right choice for the position. Perhaps someone more—" "It's not optional," she cut me off, turning abruptly. "You either accept it, or you leave. I don't need a floor cleaner right now. I need a maid for the King. Understood?" I had no choice but to nod. Sometimes, I forgot that this harsh woman had saved my life. Though, honestly, I still didn’t know why—especially now that she was sending me straight into the Lycan's den. "Memorize everything I'm about to say. The King wakes up at… He doesn’t like… Prefers it this way… And his meals are only prepared by the cook from this section. Make sure it’s always her… And you must taste it before serving him." She paced through the kitchen, the laundry area, practically the entire service zone, listing the King's preferences and dislikes. I followed, my brain nearly short-circuiting from the overwhelming information. I need to write all this down later! "Alright. You'll deliver his first breakfast now. Do exactly as I tell you,” she said, placing a silver tray full of covered dishes in my hands. "And Valeria… remember, head down. Stay invisible. You're nothing but a piece of furniture." "And I trust you haven't forgotten the scene from your first day here. If you try anything against the King, believe me, he was merciful with that woman." Her warning made me swallow hard as I nodded. I didn’t consider myself a coward, but it felt like I was marching straight to the gallows as I climbed the forbidden stairs, moving through the dim candlelit corridors leading to the Guardian leader's quarters. I reached the only door in this wing—an enormous wooden door with intricate carvings—and tried to recall every instruction. "Don't knock at this hour. Go straight inside." So, I did. Balancing the tray carefully, I twisted the heavy doorknob. Step by step, I entered the den of the big bad wolf, avoiding unnecessary glances around. I immediately noticed the large wooden table at the center, the dim lighting, and I focused on setting the breakfast properly. But then I heard it—and smelled it. The scent of lust. Through my bangs, I glanced toward a black door, slightly ajar. Muffled female moans seeped through, despite being closed. More than one woman’s voice. The rhythmic sound of something hitting a wall echoed. Maybe the bed—I didn’t know, and I didn’t care. The most important rule: head down, stay invisible. Don't speak. Don't look. Don't listen. I was so focused on remembering every detail of his preferences, circling the table, that I didn’t even notice when the sounds stopped. "Who are you?" a dominant voice behind me made me flinch. My trembling fists tightened, and I turned, staring down at the gray rug. "Your Majesty, my name is Valeria. I am your new maid," I managed without stuttering. A massive shadow loomed over me, every instinct screaming danger, run—but I stood firm as he placed a finger beneath my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. I expected disgust at my scarred face. Instead, I saw fierce, intimidating gray eyes studying me—so captivating they resembled lethal steel. "Where's your inner wolf?" he asked, frowning. How had he noticed with just one glance? "I… I’m not entirely sure, sir. I suffered a traumatic experience before I turned eighteen, and her spirit never appeared. But… I can shift into my wolf form. Others say it's a curse." I added quickly, half-expecting to be dismissed on my first day. Scarred, cursed—what a perfect maid. "Is that why your face hasn't healed?" he asked, his voice calm but piercing. "I suppose so, sir. My healing is… slower than others." He said nothing, but his intense scrutiny made my skin crawl. Did I say the wrong thing? I avoided lingering on his rugged features, but it was becoming clear why so many women risked losing their heads just for a night in his bed. Aldric Thorne was a man built for sin. A towering figure, nearly two meters tall, with a powerful, scarred body, bold and commanding. Muscular, rough, impossibly attractive. And despite his icy aura, his long shoulder-length hair was deep crimson, just like his short beard—like fire, like blood he could spill without flinching. "I don't care about your peculiarities, but I do expect you to have understood the rules clearly because I won't tolerate disobedience or tricks," he warned me, his voice dangerously low and guttural. I nodded, swallowing hard. "Yes, your maje—" "And call me Sir. I don't like that Your Majesty nonsense," he clarified, finally releasing me and walking toward the other side of the room. I exhaled, realizing I had been holding my breath the entire time. Yet, I could still catch that scent lingering from his skin, something like aged wine—rich, and intoxicating. Could it be some cologne? I couldn't detect the pheromones of werewolves like others could. "They'll be here soon to collect those women. Make sure they leave and clean up everything," he ordered without even sparing me a glance, then disappeared through a door leading to what seemed like another room. I remained standing there in the dim light, frozen for a moment. Then, clenching my fists, I gathered my resolve and moved to deal with his lovers still in bed. I opened the door and stared in shock at the chaotic scene inside. The room was dimly lit, clothes strewn across the floor, and in the center, three women lay sprawled. The heavy scent filled the air, making it hard to breathe. "Umm… ladies, it's time to leave," I said softly, but none of them reacted, their eyes shut as if completely oblivious. They looked exhausted, their bodies marked with bites, bruises, and a mess of fluids staining their thighs. "The King ordered you to leave. You need to—" "Shut up, you annoying brat!" snarled the blonde lying in the middle of the two brunettes, even throwing a pillow at me, which I narrowly dodged. Well, they still have some energy left, it seems. Okay, this wasn’t going as smoothly as I had imagined, and they were already settling back down as if planning to sleep there. Aren't they uncomfortable covered in all that… stuff? But I couldn't fail my first task. I knew he had done this on purpose—to test me. I headed to the bathroom, filled a basin with cold water, and placed it near the bed. Rolling up my sleeves, exposing my pale arms, I then walked over to the massive crimson curtains, grabbed the heavy fabric, and yanked them open with force. "Aaaahh! Close it, right now! Close the curtain!" they screeched like the possessed, even though the sky was overcast. The sun never really shone brightly here—this land was always cloaked in thick fog. Grabbing the basin, I lifted it and—splash! —drenched them in icy water to snap them out of it. "Have you lost your damn mind, maid?!" C5 THE KING'S MAID VALERIA "Aahh, it’s horrible, she’s deformed!" "You’re just jealous, that’s why you want to keep us away from the King!" "The Lord has said you must leave now," I repeated impassively, while they hurled insults at me. But I felt nothing—not cold, not heat. I thought about how to get them out since, weakened or not, there were three of them and only one of me. Just then, loud knocks echoed from the side door leading to the hallway, a door I hadn’t even noticed before. It had to be the person sent to remove them from the castle. I walked over and opened it, revealing two sturdy servants who entered without a word. The women began to resist, screaming that their bodies were only for the King, threatening that our heads would roll. I didn’t need to be here long to see through their lies. That man had used them like disposable objects and was now discarding them like trash. The blonde rushed toward the door leading to the dining hall, but I stepped in front of her, standing firm and blocking her way. "Have some dignity and leave already. The King has ordered it. Don’t risk dying." "I want him to tell me himself! Last night, he showed me otherwise! Get out of my way!" she lunged at me, baring her fangs. I defended myself, grabbing her arms mid-air as we struggled. Her long claws scratched me in her fury, and I knew I could control her because, right now, she was weak. This she-wolf was stronger than me—honestly, anyone was stronger than me. With the help of the servants, we managed to drag the last crazed woman out of the room. I shut the door, breathing heavily. "Quite the first day on the job," I muttered in resignation, staring at the disaster I now had to clean. * I wiped the sweat from my forehead, taking a moment to catch my breath, surveying the nearly tidy room. The worst part was the bed. Even after removing the dirty sheets, I had gone overboard with the water. So, I thought of pushing the mattress closer to the window to let it air out and catch some sun. "Mmnn," I grunted, yanking at the heavy king-size mattress, my hands trembling. I doubted I could move it. I kept struggling when— "How many centuries does it take you to organize a room?" His voice startled me—I hadn’t heard him enter. I turned to apologize, but a wrong step, my nerves, and apparently a sticky substance I’d left on the floor caused me to lose my balance and fall forward. By instinct, I grabbed onto the first thing I could, falling to my knees with my eyes shut tight. Something had slipped from my hands, and now another thing, thick, brushed against my nose. A dark, musky, intoxicating scent assaulted my senses. When I opened my eyes again and saw the sight before me, I wished I could die right there without needing him to kill me. In my hands was a black towel—I assumed it had been around the King's hips—and I was on my knees, clutching his powerful thighs, with a massive, veiny member right in front of my wide eyes. «Girl, this could make you cry» was the first thing that crossed my mind in my nervous breakdown. And to think it was only half... not even Dorian’s compared in detail. "Should I fetch a tape measure so you can size it up too?" His cold voice snapped me out of my frozen state. Terrified, I raised my gaze to see him completely naked, in all his glory, his burgundy hair loose and tousled, damp from the shower, and I could swear his gray eyes held a mocking glint. "Your Majesty, I’m so sorry! Please, spare the life of this humble servant who doesn’t deserve your mercy!" I threw myself to the ground, pressing my forehead against the hard surface, begging him. What I had done was unforgivable. By the Goddess, I had even stayed there... staring at it. His threatening shadow loomed over my trembling body. I clenched my eyes shut, bracing for the end. "I’ll leave right away... I beg you... I’ll leave the castle... please..." "I don’t have the patience to find a new servant every day. You leave when I decide so. Now get up." His deep voice rumbled close to my ear, and I felt him tugging at the towel I still clutched in my hands. I released it immediately, sweat trailing down my back as my entire body trembled. "Besides, if you’re going to serve me, it won’t be the last time you see it. It’s not a big deal. Come to the dining room," he added before his bare footsteps echoed away from the room. Swallowing nervously, I stood on shaky legs. «Come on, Valeria, focus, please. » "Try the breakfast," he ordered, gesturing to the food set on the table. He sat, dominating the large chair, observing my every move. I picked up the fork and cut a small piece from each dish, tasting everything bite by bite. "If something is not to your liking, I can ask the kitchen to—" "That won’t be necessary. Everything’s fine," he interrupted and then fell silent. I kept my gaze on the floor, unsure of what he was waiting for, frantically reviewing every rule in my mind. "Do you think I’m a savage who eats with his hands?" "What? No, no, Your Maj... Sir..." I quickly lifted my gaze and saw him glancing at the fork still in my hand. Holy Goddess, I had covered the only utensil with saliva! The housekeeper hadn’t mentioned I had to taste the food here too! "I... I’ll get another, I’m so sorry—" "You seem to apologize well," he said as he took the fork from my hand. "It’s dirty, I... I ate with it—" I didn’t finish because he wiped it with a napkin and began eating calmly. I stepped back, standing in the corner, awaiting his orders. Through my bangs, I occasionally stole glances at him. He looked relaxed wearing just the towel, eating and reviewing some documents beside him. No matter what the Lycan King did, his aggressive aura filled the entire space, demanding only obedience and submission. This was my new master. And honestly, I was starting to wonder if I’d be better off running far away from this castle... and this pack. Aldric Thorne was the most dangerous thing I could have crossed paths with. *** Days passed, and despite my rookie mistakes, I managed to survive. The Lord wasn’t constantly present at the castle either—he often traveled between packs or faced dangerous situations. I hadn’t even seen the other “Guardians” until one morning. "Phew, I honestly don’t know how you handle the pressure and temptation," said Juliette. She was the only staff member who had approached me. An extroverted, cheerful girl. I didn’t consider her a friend, though—I'd never trust a woman like that again. But at least her chatter kept me entertained. We were walking through the underground corridor carrying laundry baskets when a side door leading to one of the many training gyms opened. A massive Lycan emerged. I knew by the powerful aura he projected. We immediately lowered our heads, waiting for him to pass, but his steps approached us instead. "Are these clean towels?" asked a strong but calm male voice. "Yes, yes, Sir," I answered, realizing I was the one carrying them. I glanced up for a second. Enchanting golden eyes stared back at me. I quickly lowered my gaze to the carpet and handed him a towel, but as he reached out, our fingers brushed for a moment. His touch was warm. Despite being intimidating, this Lycan projected a protective aura—not as sharp and wild as the King's. "I’m sorry... I’m so sorry—" "Relax, it’s fine. Thank you," he replied, taking the towel and walking away down the hallway. And then I dared to look at his back. Blond hair, massive like all Lycans, powerful, his muscular, sweaty back glistening, dressed in black combat gear. It seemed like he had been training. For some reason, the combination of his eyes and hair reminded me a bit of Dorian. I didn’t want to remember him at all, but the mind could be a traitor. He had been the first—and only—man I’d loved. "Right? He’s so handsome! I mean, they’re all attractive and hot, but for me, the best ones are the King and Guardian Quinn... Though the King, ugh, that man is pure fire. I’m torn—what do you think, Valeria? Would you prefer the King or Quinn?" Before I could scold her for talking so carelessly, her face turned pale, staring behind me in panic. A powerful presence pressed against my back, hot breath brushing against my ear. "I’d like to know too, Valeria. Who would you prefer? And why did you let another man touch what’s mine?" The basket in my hands begins to tremble along with my hands. I'm done for. And even though I know he’s talking about the towels, for some reason, it feels like he’s talking about me. "Ss… Sir..." "Get out!" he ordered Juliette, who looked at me for a second with guilt but had no choice but to flee almost running. I remained with my back to him. Could I run too? "I'm still waiting, Valeria. Tell me, are you unhappy with the position you were given? Would you prefer to be Quinn's personal maid instead? Turn around!"	LEARN_MORE	https://befant.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=18151&u	Galaxy in the Story	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	2,490	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	befant.com	VIDEO		https://befant.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=18151&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476806602_633447442410951_6568376634569974115_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=sz7TcL6xEZQQ7kNvgFXXMoD&_nc_oc=Adh4w5AI5wlY_U1XmGXd5ozPltPejztd5fybcuzSpqjTWon6Jj3E-yUIVxqonaW7t1G-OTnW_VuWJHnNiKAbDtyY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=ALnMb24EYSndeJUAhMM_xme&oh=00_AYCNsi8shrdhT2QTaS2duAdXUOvKsotwlHiWe03enJYl5Q&oe=67CBD229	PERSON_PROFILE	Galaxy in the Story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,756,179	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2756248}'	No	2025-03-03 12:18	active	2772	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	Jasper is attacking my pack. Again. When is he going to realize that he can’t defeat me? This time, he must have gotten some friends to help him, but they aren’t the scrappy fighters that my warriors and I are. Other than me, my pack is made up solely of rogues, the misfits that the other packs kicked out. Okay, yeah, some of them are dangerous and I have to keep them in line, but they’re deadly, and Jasper needs to learn that no amount of money is worth your life. When I claimed my father’s pack at eighteen, I learned just how hard he’d worked to ensure my financial stability when I took over the pack. I know a lot of the wars that he fought were to obtain better-packed lands, and easier and cheaper access to water, electricity, and other necessities. He did it all for me. And now, I am by far, the richest Alpha I’ve ever met. I'm richer than Henry and richer than Warren. You’d never know it to look at me and my pack members. We don’t dress like we’re rich, we don’t strut around like we’re high and mighty like the rich do, but my pack wants for nothing. More than anyone, the rogues understand protecting what’s theirs. It’s another reason that I took them all in. They’re fantastic fighters to have lasted in the wild on their own, which is the primary reason that I allow them into my pack. Not only that, but they also understand the value of protecting what they have. And what they have is this pack, a home, and me as their Alpha. I don’t know how Jasper gets away again, but I know that I practically ripped his leg off this time. I’d chase after him and take him down, but I have a birthday party to attend today. Connor and Kennedy Hill turned eighteen today. Connor will take over the pack from his father, Alpha Warren, who I despise with every bone in my body. I’ve refused to create an alliance with him because the person killed my father. I watched him do it. That memory is burned into my brain and is one of the worst moments of my life. My father was a great person. Alpha Harold told me that he was greedy and that he was responsible for most of the pack wars that occurred back then. But I know that he did it all for me. My father loved me. I definitely know that. My father loved me more than his own life, giving his life for mine. My mother wasn’t that way. She protected me, but once she realized that I was safe and she lost her status in the pack, she let herself wither away and die. In the end, she loved her status more than she loved me. ‘Alpha, what should we do with the bodies?’ Kier, my Beta asks. I look around, pleased that my warriors killed so many of Jasper’s pack or the pack members of those he recruited to attack me. “Pile them up and dump them outside Jasper’s pack lands,” I growl. Kier smiles. “With pleasure, Alpha.” “I have to go get ready for this awful party. Are you good?” I ask. He snorts. “That should be fun.” “An Alpha’s duties never end,” I say. “Do yourself a favor, Alpha. Find yourself a sweet little pussy to bury yourself in.” I grunt in response and head up to my room. While I don’t shy away from a person who wants me, I’ve never fucked anyone in Alpha Warren’s pack. It’s not because I care what he thinks about me. I don’t care about what Warren thinks of me. It’s her. That little witch of a person who has always seen way too much. I climb into the shower, letting my guts wash off of me as I think about her. Kennedy. I’ve watched her grow into a person who far outshines her mother. Luna Yara is beautiful, no one can deny it. But Kennedy? That girl is something to behold. I guess today she’s technically a person. I smile as I think about her. She hates it that I still call her 'pup'. I’ve long since stopped thinking of her as a pup. That ended the first time I woke up, having a wet dream about that beautiful person. Maybe because of that, I became even more antagonistic about calling her pup when I saw her. And her scent, her sweet citrus and mint scent has only gotten stronger and more mouthwatering as she’s gotten older. What hasn’t changed is her watchfulness and her insightfulness. The person sees everything, far more than she should. And for some reason, her focus seems to be almost entirely on me. I should despise it, I should be mad or irritated that she’s constantly watching me, noticing me in ways that others don’t. But from her, I almost crave it. I fall for that such a beautiful girl, a beautiful person, watches me. I’ve seen the others falling all over themselves to get to her. Kennedy, being Connor’s twin sister and the oldest of the Alpha females in Warren's pack, is much sought after by other Alphas. I know that even Henry, who has yet to find his mate, wants her. But I’ve seen her ignore their advances just to watch me. I’m not sure that she knows how often I see her watching me, but every time I’m in the room with her, I keep an eye on her, watching her watch me. And every time I see her, that golden glow around her, that beautiful light of sweet and delicate inner beauty glows brighter and brighter. Part of me hopes that she finds her mate today. The other part of me wants to take anyone who comes close to taking her from me. That part comes from Raif, my wolf. He’s been enamored with Kennedy since she was a pup. He’s snubbed every other female we’ve ever seen, and goddess forbid that I talk about taking a chosen mate. He snarls and throws such a tantrum in my head that I can’t rest, and it makes my head throb until I relent. Not that any person is dumb enough to accept me as her mate. I’m not stupid. I’m an Alpha and people want the prestige of being a Luna. But being mated to me wouldn’t be easy. I’m too dark and eventually, I drag anyone who gets too close to me into the darkness that surrounds me. It’s another reason that I hope that Kennedy finds her mate today. She deserves better than the darkness that someone like me could give her. I told her years ago that she should be afraid of me, but for some reason, that little pup never heeded my words. A part of me, deep down in my heart, is glad that she didn’t. I’m distracted as I get out of the shower, so I don’t smell his scent until he barks at me. “What’s going on, Q? You were in a battle today? Why didn’t you call me?” Henry says, glaring at me from across my room. I frown. “I’m going to have to tell my patrols to start letting me know when you enter the pack lands.” “They know I’m your brother and don’t change the subject. Your pack smells like danger and desperation. Why didn’t you call?” “Because I didn’t need you. We were fine. Jasper was after my money again. And let’s be honest, you take a lot more time to get ready for these parties than I do,” I say to my best friend and brother. Okay, he’s my only friend. He rolls his eyes at me and throws himself on the loveseat in my room. “I don’t take a long time.” I look at him, realizing that he’s taken a bit longer today than he usually does. “Did you buy all the new clothes for today? What’s the matter, Henry? Are you hoping that Kennedy is your mate?” I ask joking. I turn to go into my closet to get dressed but when he doesn’t answer me, I turn back. “Are you kidding me?” Something dark inside of me threatens to push forward. I like Henry, more than anyone in the world I like this person who is like a brother to me, but at the moment, thinking of him with Kennedy, I’m ready to rip him to shreds. “Would that be so bad, Q? She’s gorgeous, she’s smart, she’s about the sweetest person I’ve ever met… she’d make a good Luna,” he says, shrugging and looking away from me. I can tell that he’s seriously hoping that she’s his mate. Honestly, he’d be the perfect mate to her. He’s exactly the kind of person that she should end up with. But the thought of her ending up with anyone has Raif thrashing around in my head. ‘Knock it off,’ I tell my wolf. ‘I’ll take him down if he touches her.’ ‘No, you won’t. He’s my best friend. She’s nothing but a pretty pup,’ I say, but I know I don’t mean it. She’s one of the few people who can put a warm glow into my dark and angry heart. ‘Mmhmm, keep telling yourself that,’ Raif says. I notice that Henry is watching me, so I do what I always do when I don’t want others paying attention to me. I get snarky. It usually works, except her. “Who knows, maybe Connor is your mate, and you can become his Luna,” I say, chuckling as I go into the closet. “You let me down, Q. I don’t know I even bothered to come over here to get you.” “Yeah, why did you?” I ask. He looks at me. “I wasn’t sure you’d come otherwise.” Normally, he’d be right. But I can’t miss that little pup’s birthday. I even got her a present. I got one for Connor too, but his gift is money. He’s the incoming Alpha, so if he’s smart, he’ll put it toward the pack. But for Kennedy, I wanted something special. Raif insisted that I get her jewelry, preferably something with a wolf’s head that looks like him. So, I had a wolf’s head made in pewter and onyx, and I had diamonds put into his eyes since April is her birth month. I’m nervous to give it to her, but I’m pretty sure, knowing her like I do, that even if she doesn’t like it, she’ll say she does and that she’ll wear it anytime she expects to see me. I finish getting ready, wearing like someone I’ve never been, just hating to be this formal. “You sure you want to do that?” Henry asks as I roll up my sleeves. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I?” I ask him. “Luna Yara and Alpha Kennedy are going to see those marks on you. They’ll know you were fighting today.” I stop and look at my arms. He’s right, they will notice and neither person will let it go. Dammit! I roll my sleeves back down, feeling even more grumpy now than I did before. “Are you ready?” “I was waiting on you, brother,” he says, smiling and slapping me on the back as he stands. I glare at him, then we head down to his car and begin to make our way to the party. Chapter 2: Birthday Kennedy I watch as my mother prepares the person on the sofa in front of her. Sometimes I get to be in the room, helping by giving her the tools that she needs to complete her surgeries, or stitching up our pack members after she's done. But since today is my eighteenth birthday, she told me I could assist. I told her that it was the only thing that I wanted for my birthday. “When you do a Cesarean section, you have to be careful where and how you cut. You don’t want to cut too deep and risk injuring the pup and you don’t want to cut too high on the mother’s stomach because you could cut the pup,” she says, pointing to the area where she wants me to cut. Thankfully, it’s Anna who is having a baby today. It’s her fourth pup with her mate, Bennett, their oopsie baby thirteen years after the birth of their third pup. It’s why my mother suggested that she have the C-section rather than try to deliver naturally. It’s also why I’m allowed to assist. I’ve grown up around Anna and all of the nurses and doctors in the hospital. I’ve spent every possible minute of my life in this hospital. I can’t live without the medical world, feel amazing the idea of becoming a doctor just like my mother. While the others in my family were sparring and training to become strong warriors, I was here, learning everything I possibly could about medicine, anatomy, and being a surgeon. Thankfully, when my mother told Anna that assisting in surgery was the only thing I wanted for my birthday, she offered to schedule her C-section today. I was a little surprised, but since I’ve stitched up her pups before, and I’ve worked so closely with Anna, she agreed. My mother had me practice cutting on a medical dummy that she and Beta Noelle use in the hospital teaching rooms. I sliced that poor mannequin nearly to pieces I’ve practiced so many times. I take a breath and look up at Anna. Her mate is holding her hand and murmuring to her. “Focus, Kennedy,” my mother says patiently. Anna’s eyes flash to me and she winks. “You’ve got this, Kennedy.” I nod and turn back to her stomach, putting the edge of the scalpel against her stomach where my mother is pointing, and, using the pressure that I’ve practiced so many times, I make the incision. “Very good, Kennedy. Just a little further. Perfect,” she says, and I pull the scalpel away, smiling hugely as I step back to let my mother do the rest. A few minutes later, she carefully pulled the baby from Anna’s uterus and laid her on Anna’s arms. “Congratulations, on your baby boy,” she says to them. I know that Bennett is thrilled to be having a boy. Their first three children were girls. I was ready to assist my mother with closing up Anna’s stomach when she turned to me. “Your father and brother are asking about you,” she says. I look up at the clock and realize that it’s mid-afternoon. I sigh. I really don’t care about the party. The only reason I’m even partially excited is because Alpha Quirin will be here. There are a lot of other Alphas that will be here too, including Alpha Henry, who I like. But the others are just hoping to have an Alpha female for a mate. My sisters would be better options for them. They are all excited about becoming Lunas of their own packs. Me? There’s only one person for me. He just happens to be an Alpha as well. I fell for Alpha Quirin when I was six years old. There was something about him at Alpha Henry’s eighteenth birthday party that drew me to him. I’d watched him all day and then followed him outside. I don’t know why I felt safe with him that day. But I have every other time I’ve been around him since then. I don’t see him often, not nearly as often as I’d like. But I’ve noticed that he’s not as curt or abrupt with me when I approach him as he is with other people. I got my wolf, Echo, on my tenth birthday. That day at my party, she had agreed that there was something about Alpha Quirin. Maybe because he’s an older Alpha and doesn’t play the stupid games that the others play, or maybe because he refuses to let the other Alphas tease me in any way, but I’ve always seen him as a protector. Others find his quiet, glowering nature offensive, but not me. Unlike Alpha Henry, who is easygoing and has lots of friends, you have to work to get on Alpha Quirin’s good side. I’ve only known a couple of people who have earned that privilege and remained there. I count myself as one of the few. Over the years, I’ve watched as daring people have approached him during these gatherings. I also watched while he assessed them and took some to the sofa with him. I’ve tried to determine what it was about those people that made him decide to be with them and not others. I haven’t figured it out yet and maybe he hasn’t either. I’ve never seen him take the same person to the sofa more than once at these parties. If they approach him again at another party, he turns them down. My mother says the people want him because he’s a challenge. My father says they want him for his wealth. I want him because I want to get past the hard, crusty exterior that he puts up in front of others. Over the years, I’ve had glimpses of the person underneath the armor, and I want him. I want that person, the person that very few, if any, ever get to experience. ‘Kennedy, are you coming? You still have to get ready, and Dad says we can’t start the party until the birthday twins arrive. Connor won’t join the party until you do, so hurry up!’ my sister Wendy says. She’s fifteen and thrilled at the idea of seeing all of the Alphas that will be here today. ‘I’m on my way,’ I say, knowing that I need to get ready. My twin brother, Connor, is officially old enough to take over as Alpha from my father. I know my father is excited to be able to pass the torch of the pack to my brother. I also know that Connor was disappointed when he didn’t smell his mate first thing this morning. She’s not in our pack, but that doesn’t mean that she’s not in another pack. Every eligible male and female Alpha will be at our birthday party today, which has my siblings in a tizzy of excitement. It’s an important day for Connor, which makes it an important day for me. My twin is my best friend, and I won’t ruin this party for him. “Congratulations,” I say to Anna and Bennett. “Thank you. I have a gift for you even though we won’t be able to join your party today. I’ll give it to your mother to give you.” “You didn’t have to do that,” I tell her. “Of course we did. You just helped to deliver our baby, didn’t you?” Bennett asks me. I smile. “Well, thank you. I know I’ll like it,” I say. I head back to the packhouse and spend the next couple of hours getting ready for my party. When I look in the mirror, I hardly recognize myself. I chose the dress specifically because I want Alpha Quirin to see me as a person, not as the pup that he always calls me. ‘Little Pup’. Ever since that first day that I spoke to him, he’s always called me Little Pup. I would despise the name if it didn’t make me feel somewhat special. No one else gets a pet name from Alpha Quirin. The floor-length gown is covered in sequins, adding brightness to the dress. The sleeves are straps that hang off the shoulder and there’s a small train in the back that adds a softness to the overall feel of the gown. ‘Kennedy, are you ready?’ I hear Connor’s voice in my head. ‘Yes, where are you?’ “Outside your door,’ he says, and I can hear the laughter in his voice. I open the door and see my very handsome brother standing there waiting for me. He’s wearing a suit that fits him perfectly, accenting his broad shoulders and narrow waist. He will have the people at the party drooling over him. They do anyway, but today, he looks every bit the Alpha heir that he is. “Why, Alpha Connor, how very nice of you to be my escort,” I say, smiling at my twin. His tie and cummerbund are a close match to the color of my dress. We’ll look very good walking into our party together. He snaps his feet together and gives me a formal bow before extending his arm to me. “How was the surgery? Mom said you were brilliant, as always,” he says. My brother has always been my biggest supporter with my mother a close second. “Oh, it was fantastic, Connor,” I say excitedly, making him chuckle. “Good. Now remember, no matter what happens today, you will always be my twin and my best friend. I hope that we both find our mates, but if not…” “Then we keep looking,” I say, knowing how important it is for him. “Then we keep looking. But, if we’re both lucky and you end up leaving for your new home soon, never forget that I’m here for you anytime you need me.” “Thanks, Connor.” “Now we’d better go before Wendy bursts something in her excitement.” I laugh as he begins leading me down the stairs. I turn, as I hear the gasps of the people in the room, watching as my brother and I make our way down the stairs. I look around the room, not seeing Alpha Quiring and feeling a stab of disappointment that he’s not here. He was the only one I was hoping to see. The room breaks out in “Happy Birthday!” as we get to the bottom step. From there, we’re separated by the massive number of people who want to say hello and wish us happy birthday. I’m about halfway through the room of people when Echo stands up in my head. ‘Echo?’ I ask just as I hear a nearly feral snarl behind me and the scent of sandalwood floods my nose. I turn and see that the partygoers have separated, leaving a space for me to see Alpha Quirin standing across the room from me, his nose in the air as he drinks in my scent. I gasp as he opens his eyes and focuses his intense gaze on me. “Mate,” his wolf, Raif, growls. The entire room has gone quiet and almost as one, all heads turn to stare at me. I swallow hard, excitement and desire flooding my system and overwhelming me. Thankfully, Echo has no problem managing these feelings. She’s thrilled. “Mate,” she purrs. Chapter 3: Warnings Quirin When Henry and I pulled up to the packhouse, I smelled her before I even opened the door. “Quirin, where are you going?” Henry asks as I quickly leap out of the car and make my way to the packhouse. I ignore him. I have to see her. It’s all I can do to keep Raif under control as he pulls me into the packhouse. Once inside, the place is packed and I can’t see her, can’t find her. Raif snarls angrily and the party guests part like the Red Sea. There, across the room from me, is Kennedy. My mate. Raif announces it before I can stop him. Part of me is thrilled. There’s always been something about Kennedy that has drawn me in, something that has made me feel protective and even possessive at times. And now, I know why, she’s my fated mate. The other part of me knows that the words that I spoke to her all those years ago were accurate. ‘People like me are no good for little pups like you.’ I hadn’t been lying. She deserves someone like Henry, or even someone like her brother. Instead, the Moon Goddess has decided to punish her with someone like me. I should reject her, I should set her free, but I know I can’t. I’m much too selfish for that. “Mate,” she says. I know it’s her wolf who replies to Raif, but watching her sweet mouth say the word that I’ve only dared to dream that she would say to me, makes the possessiveness that I’ve held on to tightly flare inside of me. It didn’t escape me that everyone, every single person in the room, turned to look at her when I called her my mate. I’m sure they all thought she’d reject me. And maybe she will. If she’s smart, she will. ‘I refuse to accept it,’ Raif says. ‘She’s ours. I want her. I want them both.’ Raif has wanted Echo from the moment he first saw her. Of course, back then she was much too young for me or him to do anything. I’d always felt the pull to this little pup, but once she had her wolf, the pull had become even stronger. I stare at her across the room, not moving as I watch her eyes go wide. I realize that her dress brings out the color of those eyes. ‘Stop making our mate think we don’t want her,’ Raif growls before literally pushing me forward. Rather than stopping and looking like a fool, I slowly walk up to Kennedy. Some might call it a prowl, the predator hunting his prey. But since the prey looks eager to be captured, I’m not sure it’s an accurate assessment. “Happy Birthday, Little Pup,” I say to her and instantly I get the response I expected. Her lips press together but before she can come back with some smart retort, I wrap my arm around her and pull her against me, pressing my lips to hers. When I finally pull back I look at her, my mate. “We’re leaving,” I growl. “What?” she asks, frowning while still looking dazed. I like that dazed look on her face. “Alpha Quirin, it’s Kennedy’s birthday. The party has just begun. Surely you don’t intend to take her away from her party already.” I don’t have to turn to know that it’s Alpha Connor who is speaking. The person looks exactly like his father and for that alone, I despise him. But he’s Kennedy’s twin and I know that she considers him her best friend. It’s the only reason I don’t take him down for trying to keep me from taking my mate. “There are too many unmated Alphas in this room for my liking,” I growl, never looking away from my mate. “No one is stupid enough to try and take your mate from you, Q. Everyone saw that the two of you are mates. Let her have her birthday party.” That comes from Henry. He’s come up behind me and is speaking softly. “Of course they won’t. I would take him down anyone who touches her,” I growl loudly, making sure every Alpha here knows that she’s mine. “Alpha Quirin.” This time it’s the sweet voice of Luna Yara. She, like Henry, is one of the few people in this world that I would never ignore. “We worked very hard to have a nice party for our twins. Would you please reconsider your need to take Kennedy from us so soon?” I realize that, through all of this, my mate hasn’t said a word. “What do you want, Kennedy?” I see the instant happiness that I used her name, rather than calling her Little Pup. “I want to be with you,” she says and it’s like she’s turned her beacon of light on me, pushing away all my darkness. Such is the power that this little wolf, barely an adult, has over me. “We should stay and celebrate you. But we’re leaving today,” I tell her. “Okay.” “Okay,” I say, finally pulling my eyes away from her. I turn to the room and see that everyone is staring at us. “Well, is this a party or what?” I growl. The music starts again and I move to stand behind my mate, glaring at any unmarked male who even looks this way. Others come up to wish my mate happy birthday, but they quickly move away. “Alpha Quirin, it is customary in this pack that the first dance on a birthday goes to the mother or father of the birthday boy or girl. I’m assuming, since you are well aware of this tradition, that you have no problem with me dancing with my daughter,” Alpha Warren says. His hand is already extended to Kennedy, and I see that Connor and Luna Yara are also about to step out onto the dance floor. They’re just waiting for me. Kennedy looks up at me as if it’s my decision. I guess everyone here knows that I have no problem fighting them if I don’t like what’s going on. “It’s tradition, right?” I ask her. “Right,” she says and turns to me, taking my hand. “Don’t disappear on me.” “I’m not going anywhere,” I say. It's meant as a threat but rather than the fear that it should cause in her, I get her mega-watt smile. That smile has always fascinated me. How can one person be so happy? I watch as her father leads her onto the dance floor and the two of them begin to move around the dance floor, easily and gracefully. I’m content to watch her gliding across the floor, but my best friend and brother have other plans. “Stop, Q.” “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I say obstinately. “Of course you do. You’re not stupid. Stopping ruining this day for her.” “I’m not ruining anything for her. I asked what she wanted, and she said she wanted to be with me. I have no intention of letting any of these lecherous people get close to what’s mine.” “Do you count me as one of those lecherous people?” he growls, but I hear the hurt behind it. I turn and look at him. “I know you wanted her. But she’s mine. Maybe I don’t deserve her, but I can’t let her go. If you can respect that, then we’re good. If you can’t, then we have a problem.” He turns and looks at me. “That will very much depend on how you treat her, Quirin. If you mistreat her…” “Then what, Henry?” I ask. “Let’s not find out, okay? And for the record, I’m insulted that you would think that wouldn’t respect the mate bond. Anyone’s mate bond,” he says, walking out onto the dance floor and asking my mate to dance. I see Kennedy look over at me as if once again questioning if it’s okay for her to dance with someone else. Am I that overbearing? Probably. “What are you doing, Quirin?” “About what, Luna Farrah,” I say sighing. There are maybe five people in this world that I care about. Four of them have approached me today. Well, technically, I approached Kennedy, but the other three, Henry, Luna Yara, and now Luna Farrah, have approached me on Kennedy’s behalf. I’m wondering when Alpha Harold will approach me. “This is her day, Quirin,” she says. I’m not surprised that the massive aura that I’m pushing out to keep people away isn’t keeping Luna Farrah away. It never did. “And I’m letting her have it,” I quip. “Letting her. What an interesting way to phrase it. How kind of you to LET her have her birthday party,” she growls softly. I sigh. “You know I hate these things.” “And I know that if you like someone, that it doesn’t matter what YOU want, Quirin. And if you can’t like that girl the way that she deserves, then reject her. It will make her feel bad now, but she’ll thank you later.” “She’s mine,” I growl, low enough that no one else will overhear. “Then make sure you treat her like that means something, Quirin. She’s a sweet girl, smart and loving. If you intend to stay mated to her, then don’t you dare take that away from her.” She walks off just as Alpha Harold walks up to Kennedy. He looks over at me and it’s obvious that he’s daring me to question his intentions with my mate. I don’t. He has his own mate and I lived with them long enough to know that he loves Luna Farrah with all of his heart. What no one else seems to realize is that I like Kennedy with all of my heart. I just don’t show it the way that others do. Chapter 4: Birthday Party Kennedy Every time someone asks me to dance, I take the opportunity to look over at Quirin. First, I was surprised by his possessiveness of me and I’m afraid to do something that will make him think that I don’t want him. I do want him. I always have. But second, I’m afraid he’ll run. It’s not that he’s a fearful person, well at least not usually. But I’ve been watching my mate for years and I know that when it comes to emotions, he’s not very good at handling them. “Luna Kennedy, how do you feel about being mated to my adopted son,” Alpha Harold asks as we dance. “I’m very happy about it, Alpha,” I tell him truthfully. “Hmmm, not many people would say that. My son isn’t an easy person to get close to.” “I’ve never found it that difficult.” “No, I guess you haven’t. Have you ever been to his pack, Luna?” I like that he keeps calling me Luna. Until Quirin called me mate, I was an Alpha, but now, being a Luna means that I’ve found the person I like. I can’t wait until his mark is on my neck and mine is on his so I can show everyone that he is mine. “No, I haven’t, Alpha. You have though, right?” “Yes. I’ll warn you, Kennedy, Quirin’s pack is different. His pack is made up of previous rogues, scrappy individuals who are used to fighting for what they have and what they want. You’re a strong person, Kennedy. It will take a strong person to make her way in a pack like that.” “I’ll do my very best, Alpha,” I tell him. “I’m sure you will,” he says just before his eyes shift to look over my head. A moment later I feel heat at my back and smell his sandalwood scent. “Are you going to let me dance with my mate, father?” “I was just warming her up for you, Quirin. Luna Kennedy, I do hope to see you soon.” “Thank you, Alpha,” I say to him and then turn to my mate. He looks at me for a moment, his eyebrow going up in the arrogant way that he has. Personally, I’ve always found it extremely incredible. “I didn’t know you danced, Alpha Quirin,” I say as he takes me in his arms. “I’ve never had anyone I was interested in dancing with before, Little Pup,” he says. I ignore the ‘pup’ part and revel in the thought that he wants to dance with me. He begins to expertly move me around the floor. “Where did you learn to dance like this, Alpha?” I ask him. He looks at me. “Quirin, Kennedy. If we’re going to be mated, we should be more familiar, don’t you think?” I smile at him and even though he doesn’t smile, I watch his eyes soften. “Where did you learn to dance, Quirin?” “My mother, mostly. My father said that Alphas needed to know how to dance so we could play the mating game, searching for our mate, finding her, wooing her, all of that.” “Since you’ve searched for and found me, is this a game to you?” I ask him. “Or are you wooing me?” “I was never good at playing games, Little Pup. I am who I am. I don’t have time for frivolous things like playing games,” he says and there’s something in his tone, something that makes me think he’s trying to warn me off of him. It won’t work. “So, you’re wooing me then?” I ask. He looks down at me and the intense look in his eyes takes my breath away. “I’m going to make you mine today, Kennedy. There will be no going back, no second chances. After today, you will be mine forever. You will belong to me. You should think about that before we leave here today. Because once my mark is on you, I will never allow you to leave me.” “Well, once my mark is on you, I’ll never allow you to leave me either. So perhaps you should be the one thinking about things before we leave today,” I say indignantly, my tone expressing my aggravation with his words. I’m rewarded with one of his rare smiles. “I’ve done nothing BUT think about it since Raif called you our mate.” “You’re questioning if you want me as a mate?” I ask quietly. His face becomes more serious. “Do you remember what I said to you that day in the garden on Henry’s eighteenth birthday?” “You said people like you are no good for little pups like me. But I disagree.” I can see the surprise on his face. I’m not sure if it’s because I remembered or because I disagree with him. “And do you remember what you said to me after that?” he asks. “I said I’m not afraid of you,” I remember that day as if it were yesterday. I’ve relived it a thousand times in my mind and in my dreams. “And you never have been, have you, Little Pup?” “No.” “Why is that? Others are terrified of me. Most people won’t even come close enough to speak to me. But not you. Never you. You always made a point of coming over to talk to me, didn’t you?” “You don’t scare me. You never did,” I tell him honestly. I’m not sure what he would have said, but at that moment, my father began tapping a glass. He calls Connor and me to the front of the room, wishing us a happy birthday and announcing my brother’s Alpha ceremony in one week. “Alpha Quirin, I do hope that you and Kennedy will be here to see her twin take his place as Alpha of the pack,” my father says. I know of the animosity between my father and my mate. It’s been there all of my life, and I know why the animosity is there. The only difference is the perspective of the person telling the story. I see Quirin ready to decline, but I refuse to miss such a momentous occasion for my brother. “Of course, we’ll be here, Father,” I say before Quirin can decline. “Excellent,” he says, not giving Quirin a chance to overrule people now, your mother and I have gifts for the two of you.” He turns and my mother joins him, handing him a box before coming to me and handing me a box. “Oh Mother, you didn’t have to,” I say. “You’re my daughter. And now, it feels even more important since you’re going to be leaving and starting your own life,” she says, with tears in her eyes. I hug her, long enough that I hear awkward laughs from the others gathered around. I’m sure it’s about my brother’s watch. I’ve seen it already and I know it cost a fortune. It’s a rare, very expensive watch that my father felt my brother should have. “Thank you, father. Thank you, Mother,” he says, putting the watch on. “Your turn, Kennedy,” my father says. I smile, looking over at Quirin. I see something like regret on his face, but I’m not sure why he’d be regretful of whatever my parents got me. I open the box and it’s a gorgeous diamond necklace. “Oh, it’s so beautiful!” I say. “Let me put it on you,” my mother says. “I knew it would go perfectly with your dress,” she says. When it’s clasped, I turn and hug her. “Thank you!” Then I go to my father and hug him as well. “Thank you!” “Of course. Let’s have some cake!” he says, tucking me against his side as he announces cake to the room. “Listen, Kennedy. Before you leave, I wanted to tell you … “ my father begins. “Kennedy, let’s go have some cake and then we need to think about leaving,” Quirin says, coming up behind me. I can feel the tension between the two people, and I can also tell that my father doesn’t want to let me go. He doesn’t trust Quirin to take care of me. I pull away from my father. There is no choice for me. Quirin has always been the person I’ve wanted. He is my mate. I’m an Alpha wolf and I like a challenge just like any Alpha. I know that things between me and Quirin won’t always be easy, but I know that there is no one else for me. “Yes, Quirin, let’s go get some cake.” I take his hand and lead him away from my parents. It’s only about an hour later when Quirin tells me that I need to go pack my things. “Since we’re apparently coming back in a week, just bring what you need for now. I’ll make plans to get a truck and we can bring everything else back next week when we’re here.” “Okay,” I say, starting to get nervous. “I won’t take too long.” I find my mother and ask her to help me, before heading upstairs to pack up my life. I’m ready to move and leave this pack and my family behind me, ready to start my new life with Quirin, wherever that may lead.	LEARN_MORE	https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=18347&u	New world publications	https://www.facebook.com/100090352943774/	3,809	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	befant.com	IMAGE		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=18347&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/477685295_28495082946804967_8350472285092663880_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=IbR_6cSX6ccQ7kNvgGEi9IZ&_nc_oc=AdjFf0o59WLZc9LooZv1iydhiqZ66n_I2EjHHOgTN2_y3az4VFpGUUmHqWLlH__Kii1BA9JWsCIQ31aj9ZJlTGvr&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=ALnMb24EYSndeJUAhMM_xme&oh=00_AYDm3JVZ_GjIsBZ_q65b8zH42mbVFY9lkb7QjyQuI79xpQ&oe=67CBBE3F	PERSON_PROFILE	New world publications	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,756,184	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2756859}'	Yes	2025-03-03 12:18	active	2772	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	"Are... are you sure, Esther?" I ask with a broken voice. My heart races, filled with happiness. "Very sure, Luna. You're carrying a little wolf!" "Why haven't I been able to smell it, or his father?" I ask, worried. "It's very recent, perhaps that's why. Give it a few more days and you should be able to sense the pheromones." She replies, and I nod, my eyes blurred with tears. I am the Luna of the "Autumn Forest" pack. Three years ago, I married the man I love madly, despite not being destined mates, my Alpha Dorian. I've given everything to be the perfect Luna, the pillar he can lean on. However, a shadow looms over my marriage—the topic of an heir. I've never been able to get pregnant, and I admit I don't share the bed with Dorian as often. But I know his duties as Alpha keep him extremely busy and stressed. "Please, don't tell anyone in the pack. I want to surprise my husband." "Don't worry, Luna, I won't say anything. Congratulations!" She smiles at me, and I return the smile, overflowing with excitement and happiness. Despite being a foreigner, not originally belonging to this pack, ever since my parents died and the previous Alpha took me in, I've never felt rejected or looked down upon. That's why I've devoted myself fully to my duties as Luna. I'm grateful for my life and the wonderful man I'm married to. *** "What's with all this food? Is there going to be a party?" "Hands off!" I swat away the greedy claws of Sophia, my best friend, who sneaked in through the back kitchen door. "But wow, puff pastry tart and everything!" she says, sitting on a stool. Honestly, I may have gone a bit overboard with the dishes, but I'm so happy I want everything to be perfect. All my Alpha's favorite foods are ready! "Well, today is Dorian's and my anniversary. I want to celebrate with an intimate dinner," I say, turning back to the caramel on the stove. I don't hear her respond, so I turn halfway, curious. "What's wrong?" "N-nothing, nothing... I just heard the Alpha had an emergency today. Didn't he tell you?" she asks, and I frown. Actually, Dorian doesn't usually explain much about his work. I guess it's to avoid worrying me. "No, but he'll come back anyway. He knows today is special." I respond, completely convinced. She looks at me strangely. Lately, I can't quite understand her, but she's the first person who approached me in this pack and has always supported me. I value her greatly as a friend. "Sophie, there's something I want to tell you, but... I'll tell you tomorrow. It's very important to me," I say suddenly, wanting to share the good news with her, but not before confessing it to Dorian. "Really? Can't you tell me now?" she asks, gossip-mode activated, leaning over the counter while munching on a homemade cookie. "No, no. Tomorrow. I promise you'll be the second to know," I reply, and I can feel my happiness radiating from every pore. "Fine, I'll leave you with your mystery then. I've got things to do. Happy anniversary," she grumbles, frustrated I didn't spill the secret, and leaves the same way she came. I check the clock. There's still time. I take off my apron and head to the second floor to shower and get dressed nicely. Everything has to be perfect tonight, celebrating with my beloved mate. * I glance at the clock for the thousandth time, sitting on the sofa. It's past midnight, and Dorian hasn't arrived. I look at the cold dishes on the dining table and get up, resigned to reheating them again. I'm in the middle of that task when I hear the front door open and close. His delicious scent tingles my nose, warming my stomach. I glance at my burgundy dress, smoothing it out and fixing my hair in the hallway mirror. My jet-black hair is tied in a high ponytail, and my intensely blue eyes, highlighted with makeup, stare back at me. I step into the foyer, watching my imposing Alpha enter the door. "My love, how was your day? Lots of work, right?" I grab the coat he's holding to hang it up. I see him clutching some documents, but I assume they're pack matters. I move closer to kiss him, but he steps back. "I'm sweaty and dirty from the road. Don't contaminate yourself," he says, his piercing honey eyes staring at me—eyes I adore despite their constant coldness. It's just part of his nature. He carries too many responsibilities after inheriting the role so young when his father died. His blond hair is messily handsome, and for some reason, damp. I can even catch the scent of an unfamiliar shower gel. Why would he shower before coming home? And he said he was dirty, yet it's clear he just bathed. "S-sure, give me a second to reheat dinner. You must be hungry..." "I'm not hungry. Valeria, we need to talk." "But the dinner—" "Forget dinner. Let's go to the living room. I need to tell you something," his authoritative voice makes me tense. I follow him, starting to feel deeply worried. My hand slips into my skirt pocket, clutching the folded document stating I'm having his baby. "Why was the table so full of dishes? Were you planning a party?" he asks, glancing at the dining room. My heart clenches. "Love, I know you've been busy with pack duties. But... don't tell me you forgot our anniversary? Today marks three years since we mated," I say, sitting on the couch. I expect him to sit beside me, but instead, he chooses the armchair opposite. Dorian has never been overly affectionate, but tonight he's too distant. Too cold. An alarm goes off inside me. "Of course, I remembered. You have no idea how long I've been waiting for our third anniversary," he replies, but I don't see a trace of joy in his expression. I know everything will change with my news. Our relationship hasn't been great because of this. The pack elders keep pressuring him for an heir. When I tell him about the baby, he'll be happy. "I'll be quick because I can't stand this any—" "Wait! Wait, Dorian. Let me show you something first, and then you can tell me what you wanted to say," I interrupt him, feeling a strong premonition, I won't like his next words. Lowering my head, I take out the folded paper and hand it to him, my heart racing with emotion. He takes it, reading silently as I watch him, anxious, waiting for his joy to match mine. "I'm pregnant! I'm carrying your pup! We'll have an heir for the pack. I'm sure the Goddess has blessed us with a son!" I can't hold back and blurt it out directly. Tears in my eyes, I rise and move toward him, wanting to embrace him. But as in love as I am, even I can see this isn't the reaction I expected from the father of my child. "Are you sure about this, or is it just a trick to keep me tied to you?" he suddenly says, rising and pushing me away when I try to hug him. "Dorian... Of course, I'm sure. Look, that's the midwife's handwriting. Why would I lie about something so important? My love, what's wrong? What's happening, my Alpha?" "No, no. Damn it!" I watch him pace like a caged wolf around the living room. "This can't be happening. Not now!" "Dorian..." "Did you tell my mother? Anyone else?!" he asks suddenly, approaching me and gripping my shoulders tightly. "N-no, love. I was waiting to tell you first. I thought... you'd be happy. I know they've been pressuring you. Alpha, you don't have to be tense anymore. We'll have our family." I raise a trembling hand to caress his cheek, but he just stares at me with those golden eyes, silent. I can't figure out what's going on in his head. "You're right... I've been very stressed. I'm sorry," he suddenly pulls me into his arms, and I finally sigh, relieved, hugging him back tenderly. For a second, I feared he wasn't happy. "We'll get through this together, my Alpha. I'll be the perfect Luna so no one will judge you," I whisper, lifting my head. I want him to kiss me, to make love to me like we haven't in a long time. "Let's go for a run. A wild, unrestricted anniversary night." He suddenly suggests it, taking my hand and pulling me toward the back of our house, which borders the pack's forest. "Shift into your she-wolf," he commands, and I watch him undressing. He's so charming and strong. His hair glows under the moonlight, and I begin the transformation into my "she-wolf," one of the greatest lies and secrets of my life—something not even Dorian knows. * We run freely across the pack's lands. But I notice how we keep going farther and farther, even crossing the borders, yet I just follow Dorian's massive white wolf racing wildly ahead of me. We reach a remote place, at the edge of a deep cliff, but above us, the moon shines intensely, and the forest landscape stretches far below. "Where is this? We're outside our pack's territory... Aren't we trespassing on someone's land?" I gaze into the distance from the edge, mesmerized by the view, having already shifted back into human form, but no one responds. I feel uneasy and start to turn around. However, something inside me stirs with alarm. A crow caws in the distance—but it's already too late. "Do... Dorian, wha—?! Aaaaaahhh!" I scream as I feel wolf claws tearing into my abdomen, deeply ripping through me. Terrified and shocked by the sudden attack, I try to run. I attempt to shift back into my wolf to escape into the forest, away from whatever is happening, away from this rabid Alpha wolf whose blood-red eyes glare at me with pure hatred—but it's impossible to flee. "Ahhh! Let me go! Dorian, what are you doing?! What are you doing?! Ahhh! Help! Help!" I scream as he jumps on me when I try to escape. C2 THE WORST BETRAYAL VALERIA He bites my thigh viciously and drags me beneath his body, controlling me mercilessly. I try to resist, to call for help, my hands clutching my stomach, trying to protect my pup, but his claws, like deadly weapons, pierce my skin, tearing apart my small, vulnerable body. I have to raise my arms instinctively when his sharp claws aim for my face, and I scream in agony as a deep wound slices across my cheek from my forehead. Leaving my belly exposed, he struck our child. "Nooo, not the pup, please, Dorian, not our son!" Tears poured endlessly from my eyes as I begged him, but his canines tore through my flesh, and his claws dug into the depths of my insides with chilling cruelty, seeking to rip out the life growing inside me. I don’t know how long this agony lasted—I sobbed, pleading as long as I could speak. The pain in my entire body was unbearable, but worse was the pain in my soul, bleeding and shattered. I was discarded on the ground like trash, on the edge of a precipice, my consciousness nearly slipping away from the pain when I saw him shift into his human form. "You thought you could keep me tied to you forever?" he yelled furiously. His eyes were cold and disgusted, a look I had never seen before. "Did you really think I loved you, that I was dying to have a child with you? What a waste!" He kicked me with rage, but I no longer had the strength to even moan in pain. "Three damn years I've been separated from my mate because of you!" he roared, pouring out all the hatred he'd stored up over time. "Why…?" I barely managed to whisper, my face swollen, my tongue heavy, and my throat bleeding from a deep wound. "Because you came to the pack, the miserable orphan, and that old lady said you would give birth to the strongest Alphas, powerful enough to elevate my bloodline." "Pure nonsense from that crazy old hag, but my mother believed her and forced me to give up my mate for you because you were infatuated with me! She gave me three damn years—that was our deal. If you didn’t succeed, I’d be free." "So, today I come, ready to rid myself of an obstacle like you, and you say that you’re carrying my son," he laughed like a psychopath. "I won’t let you do it again, Valeria. You won't ruin my life again. This is the end for you!" He walked toward me, and I saw death staring me in the face. I wanted to say so many things... «I didn't know you already loved someone else. I was just a foolish, infatuated girl, but I never forced you to love me back. How could you deceive me, fake everything all this time? Our child… how could you… how could you do this…?!» I felt so powerless as I lay there, sobbing, bloody, and dying. I wished I could connect with his wolf, scream out this injustice, but I couldn’t—not even that. I didn’t have an inner she-wolf. I could only shift my body and pretend. Some said it was trauma from my adoptive parents’ violent death, where only I survived. Others claimed it was a curse, but I knew that wasn't true. I had never felt the presence of a wolf spirit within me. "Goodbye, dear wife. You don't seem so special after all," he said cynically, and with his foot, he kicked me over the cliff's edge. The last thing I knew was the sensation of falling into the cold void. I looked up at the dark sky as shadows of crows circled above my head, like messengers of death. "I'm so sorry, baby. I couldn't protect you." * "Why aren't her wounds healing properly?" "I can't waste the pack's blood on a stranger. Jake already did too much rescuing her from the rogue woods. She has to heal on her own." "Honestly, I don't even know how this woman is still alive. Poor thing… her body is horribly damaged, especially her belly… and her face." I heard voices talking nearby, hands examining me. An unbearable pain worse than death itself burned through my body, dragging me between consciousness and darkness. I don’t know how much time passed or where I was, but when I opened my eyes, I saw a white ceiling. I looked around and saw a small room, lying on a personal bed. "You're awake?" a female voice spoke suddenly beside me, and I saw an unfamiliar face. I tried to speak, but for some reason, I couldn't—it was as if my vocal cords refused to work. "Don't strain yourself. Stay calm. You… I don't think you can talk right now because of the wound on your neck," she explained with a troubled expression. And then, my foggy mind remembered—everything. The first thing I did was reach for my belly, trying to sit up despite the dizziness and searing pain. "Don't move! Wait, calm down, calm down!" she stopped me and eased me back down, but I needed to know—desperately—I had to know if a miracle had occurred. I looked at her intensely and then at my stomach, wrapped in thick bandages. "Yes… I understand what you're asking, but… I'm sorry… your belly was completely torn. Your womb was destroyed, and your pup… didn't make it. It was impossible to save him. We don't even know how you're still alive." I felt the tears pouring uncontrollably from my eyes. I closed them in pure agony, my soul shattering. My lips trembled, my entire body shook, and ragged sobs escaped my torn throat. Why did this have to happen to me? Why did everything around me have to turn into a nightmare? My baby, my pup was innocent. Why did something so horrible have to happen to him? "Calm down, please! You can't get like this! Aston, I need you here! Bring the sedative! Now, Aston, hurry!" "Aaaahh! Aaaahh!" I heard distorted screams, a cry so raw it could freeze the blood and shatter hearts. A desperate, broken woman wailed—and then I realized… it was me. That wretched woman who had lost everything… was me. * Days have passed. I know a man rescued me from the forest beneath the cliff. I'm staying in a small pack not far from Autumn Forest. With my hands still covered in wounds, I try to splash water on my face, but I can't even bear to touch my skin. I lift my head, and as I do every time that I face a mirror, I have to summon all my courage. My face, once beautiful and envied by many she-wolves, now bears a horrific scar running across my forehead and another deep one on my left cheek. Dorian not only destroyed my child's life, my womb, but he also scarred my face. It should have healed, but I know it won't. I don't possess the rapid healing ability of werewolves. Yes, I heal—but slower, and scars remain. I step outside the small room and hear the healer and the she-wolf who treated me speaking quietly. They're discussing how I've used too many resources and how they may have to ask me to leave soon since packs rarely welcome outsiders so easily. But the she-wolf argues that I’m still in terrible condition. I appreciate her care and empathy, but it won't be necessary to cast me out. I've already decided—I’ll leave tonight on my own. * Hours later, I walk through the dark forest like a lost soul, the damp bandages soaked with reopened wounds, bleeding. I don't care—my legs keep moving in a single direction. Hiding in the bushes, I watch the patrol line carefully. I know exactly how to slip past without being detected—I designed this defense rotation myself for Dorian. Like so many things I did for him and the pack. I slip away into the shadows, as quickly as my battered body allows. The night and darkness are my allies. It's as if they amplify my strange abilities. I hear voices, laughter, and lights in the distance—from the backyard of what had been my home for three long years. I walk as if in slow motion, wearing old sneakers and a worn-out dress that the she-wolf from the hospital gave me. "Ladies and gentlemen, I've gathered you all here today because I could no longer hide my happiness. I’m finally marrying my beloved mate, the woman of my life, my sweet Sophia, your future Luna." I feel like I'm falling into a cavern of ice as I watch them, smiling and kissing in front of those who once called me Luna. It was my "best friend" Sophia and my traitorous Alpha Dorian, celebrating their union while my body should have been rotting beneath that cliff if their plan had worked. Traitorous hypocrite! That woman was even wearing one of my evening dresses, made up with my things, stealing my life without a trace of remorse. She had deceived me all this time, just as I had been blind to everyone in this pack, and worse, to the man who lay beside me every night while thinking of another woman. Even the midwife who told me about my pregnancy was there! Dorian must have promised her something to keep her silent. I clenched my fists so tightly my nails dug into my palms, my teeth chattering with rage. I waited, waited like the deranged psychopath I had become, watching their entire celebration until the lights went out and everyone left for their homes. * I climbed the stairs to the second floor, walked down the dimly lit hallway, but I could hear them perfectly—making love in the master bedroom. Her feminine moans slipped through the crack of the slightly open door. I saw myself pushing it open gently. The moonlight streamed in through the large window, illuminating that figure riding Dorian, her back facing the entrance. "Alpha, tell me I'm better than her… Mmm… Come on, Dorian, tell me I'm better than that frigid Valeria." "You're the best, baby… don't even compare yourself to that stiff. Do me in her bed, come on… wasn't that what you always wanted?" Their filthy words hit my ears, and it was the final trigger I needed for everything to spiral out of control in an instant. I lunged at them on the bed. C3 THE OWNER OF THE CASTLE VALERIA I hear piercing screams, the sound of shattering glass, a savage roar, an Alpha's growls, struggling, and fighting. Something hot splashes against my face and arms. My claws shred, and my canines teared. I can't stop. I can't. Rage consumes me from the inside, demanding release. I don't know what I'm doing. I'm not conscious of myself. All I know is that when I regain control of my body, the first thing I see is my red hands. I'm kneeling on the floor, everything around me drenched in red, wreckage, and pieces of what once was a powerful Alpha—Dorian. What have I done? What in the name of the Goddess have I done?! I stare at his severed head, lying just a meter away from me. Those honey-colored eyes still stare back at me in frozen terror, and I feel bile rising in my throat. I vomit to the side, unable to hold it back, disgusted by this scene of death and violence. Did I do all this? There's no one else here. I scan the area, not knowing where Sophia went. The only thing I'm sure of is that someone was thrown through the shattered glass window. I stand up on trembling legs, glance down, but all I see is the forest behind the house and bloodstains across the grass. "Don't let her escape! Sophia, stop crying and tell me clearly what happened!" Voices shouted, hurried footsteps ascending the stairs. It was my mother-in-law's voice. I had to get out of here. I had killed the Alpha, and only a painful death awaited me. Desperately, I looked down. It seemed I had thrown that wretch Sophia out the window. I decided to jump out myself, from the second floor. BAM! The door burst open during my hesitation, and my eyes locked with Anaís, my mother-in-law, the former Luna—Dorian's mother. I saw the shock, the pain, and the fury in her eyes as she took in the scene. "You miserable! You killed my son! You murdered my Dorian! Seize her! Restrain her! I'm going to tear her apart with my bare hands!" She screamed, and the warriors behind her charged at me. I jumped without thinking. "Aaagghhh!" I groaned in pain as I crashed onto the grass, rolling over, but I forced my body to shift into my wolf form and ran with all the strength I had left. I fled into the forest as fast as my weakened legs allowed, escaping death. I don't know if it was adrenaline or sheer will to live, but I ran like a madwoman through unfamiliar lands and tangled woods. Days passed that way, where I only stopped to rest when I was on the verge of collapse, drinking water from mountain streams and feeding on prey that somehow appeared dead before me. Yes, yet another strange thing about my life. The few times I dared to close my eyes, every time I woke up, a small dead animal lay in front of my muzzle. I devoured them without knowing if they were poisonous or where they came from—I just needed energy. All I could think about was surviving. One night, I felt them again. I thought they had grown tired of chasing my trail, but that wasn’t the case. The sound of multiple wolves' footsteps echoed not far away. Desperation and exhaustion consumed me—I couldn't keep running forever. I had been skirting the borders of various packs, trying not to get caught, but that wasn't a solution. "She's just ahead! I can smell her! She will pay for this!" I heard a snarl—already so close to my trail. I could practically feel the danger breathing down my neck as I pushed my legs and lungs past their limit. I was done. They were going to catch me after all this effort. Then I lifted my blue eyes and saw them—above me, a flock of crows. Cawing, circling over my wolf form, as if trying to lead me somewhere. And for some reason, I followed them. I followed their sign and ventured deeper into unfamiliar lands—into the forbidden forest where no one dared enter without an invitation. But I had nothing left to lose. If I was going to die, at least let it be quick and without torture. That's how I crossed through the mist, leading me to the Golden Moon pack, the territory guarded by the Guardians—the land ruled by the Lycan King. * I felt like no one was following me anymore. I had no idea how far I had gone into Golden Moon territory, but suddenly, several powerful warriors blocked my path, surrounding me. "Who are you, and why have you trespassed into our pack?" a massive gray wolf asked coldly, approaching me menacingly. The black wolf I shifted into, so small and fragile, would be considered an Omega—the lowest rank in the pack, the weakest, often reduced to servitude. That was why, when I became Luna, I had felt foolishly grateful to Dorian. "I'm only seeking refuge to rest… I’m sorry for entering your forest. Just a few days, please… I only need a few days to recover and leave." I pleaded, praying my pursuers wouldn't dare follow me here. "Where do you come from? Speak! Why did you cross the Forbidden Forest? No one comes here for no reason! Tell the truth, or I'll rip your head off right now!" He growled, shoving me with his shoulder. I let out a low whimper of pain, unable to resist. Before he could take further action or carry out his threats, darkness consumed my vision, and I felt my body collapse unconscious to the ground. Maybe this time, I wouldn't wake up again. * The next time I opened my eyes, I was in a dark, damp cell, wearing tattered clothes barely covering my battered human body. Only the Goddess knows how I'm still alive. It seems she wants me to suffer—slowly and torturously. BAM! The sound of a metal door slamming jolted me. "So, you're finally awake! Take her out!" A massive, bald, intimidating man ordered two guards, who dragged me out. It was that gray wolf. I didn’t even have the strength to walk, let alone resist. They took me to a small room where the questioning began—trying to dominate me with his Alpha presence. But it didn’t work. I had no inner wolf to submit. I spent hours there, sitting on a hard chair, my hands tied behind me with ropes cutting into my skin. No matter how much freezing water they threw at me, how much they shouted or threatened, I kept my story and waited to die. My head hung limply, eyes closed, exhausted. At least they hadn’t beaten me or done worse. I've heard horrible stories about this pack of barbarians. "Fine. Since you refuse to talk, you know what awaits you. I've given you the chance to confess." His dark eyes locked on mine, giving me his final warning, but I had nothing more to say. He drew a dagger, yanked my hair back, exposing my neck, ready to slit my throat. I saw hesitation in his eyes when my black hair fell away, revealing my hideous scars. Maybe I looked pitiful—but he had a job to do. And I was ready for it to end. The dagger lowered, and I resigned myself. But a knock on the door interrupted my death once again, sending my emotions from one extreme to the other. "Now what the hell…? M-Madam… I mean, Housekeeper, what brings you here?" His previously harsh voice turned nearly submissive. Curious, I looked toward the door and saw a short woman with blonde hair tied up neatly, elegant yet stern. "What were you doing here?" Her cold green eyes fixed on mine, and I lowered my head. "She’s an intruder. Pack business—" "You were going to kill her, weren’t you?" she accused. "M-Madam, can we discuss this outside? It's protocol with intruders—" I heard his words stop short as a pair of black boots entered the room, standing right before me. "What's your name, girl?" "Valeria," I whispered weakly. "Look at me when I speak to you!" she ordered, and I lifted my head. She has a superior, imposing aura, and honestly, I think she's more terrifying than the massive brute. "Tell me, Valeria, do you want to live or die? You can survive if you agree to work for me. If not, pretend you never saw me," she offered, leaving me stunned. "W-what kind of work would it be?" "Work for the Guardians, in the castle kitchen or wherever you're needed—as a maid. I offer you shelter and food in exchange, a new chance to live," she said without breaking eye contact. I hesitated, feeling like I was selling my soul to another ruthless ruler. The Guardians were the Lycans, and the worst of them all was their leader, Aldric, the "Specter Slayer," whom all werewolves considered their king, though he didn’t seem to care about the title. "I don't have all day. Are you coming or not?" she pressed. "Housekeeper, this woman is a stranger… how can she enter the castle with the Guardians? We don't know her intentions—" "I don't care why you entered these cursed lands. Your past stays behind if you accept my offer. But if you betray me or plot anything behind my back, slitting your throat will be the least of my punishments," the woman threatened, leaving me with only a second to decide. Live or die. Start anew in a strange place, possibly filled with more humiliation and suffering—or die now and end my miserable existence. "I'll go with you. I accept the job," I finally chose to survive. * The Golden Moon pack was located in a valley, surrounded by dense forest with thick fog, and perched atop a hill in the distance was an imposing ancient stone castle. We traveled there in a carriage, rolling along cobblestone streets. This pack was massive, far more powerful than my former one. I remained silent the entire way, my black hair always hiding the scars on my face, my head bowed, not wanting to draw attention. The enormous ebony doors opened, carved stone walls rising tall and powerful, with strange statues perched on the dark eaves. At last, we arrived at an inner courtyard, and I stepped down from the carriage with some discomfort. I stared at the looming castle, half-shrouded in mist, more nightmarish than inviting. "Come. I'll give you your uniform and show you your room," she ordered, and I followed her inside. The moment we crossed the entrance, we were greeted by a massive hall. A chandelier filled with candles hung in the center, illuminating the spiraling staircases that seemed to stretch endlessly upward. I was distracted for a moment, staring at the glossy black-and-white marble floor, when something seemed to fall from the ceiling. BAM! I stumbled back, startled, barely containing a scream of pure panic as a woman's corpse crashed at my feet. She was headless, and blood still gushed from her severed neck, staining the entire floor—and even my legs. The head rolled down next; lifeless eyes frozen in a horrified expression. I looked up, trembling, and at the top of the stairs, a pair of gray, lupine, savage eyes stared back at me for a few seconds, chilling my blood to the core. C4 TAKING OUT THEIR LOVERS VALERIA His entire demeanor screamed, I'm the damn master of everything here, the absolute ruler. I immediately lowered my head, trembling. It didn’t matter that I lacked an inner she-wolf— the power radiating from that man felt like it could suffocate you, crush your soul, and he wasn't even standing that close to me. He was a Lycan, the superior species of werewolves, the ultimate evolution, and I was almost certain this was the most powerful of them all—Aldric Thorne, the Lycan King. "Sasha, take out the trash and make sure my next personal maid isn’t a scheming one, or she'll lose more than her head," his deep, cold, and intimidating voice echoed, followed by the sound of footsteps retreating. "This is a disaster. That's the fifth one in two months. I don’t know what goes through these girls' heads. I warned them," the housekeeper muttered as she approached, pulling a small vial from the dead woman’s hand. "Another one who tried to please the King thinking she could be different and rise. Brainless. I'll call a servant to take her away. And your first task begins now—clean up this mess." And so, my work in the Lycan King's castle began. The first lesson I learned: never, ever try to mess with that dangerous man, or you'll end up headless. Unfortunately, I soon found myself on the razor's edge again. * Sasha introduced me to the staff, a group of she-wolves and wolves working in the castle, attending to the Guardians. They all stared at me as if they were looking at a monster. I didn’t care—I just wanted to keep existing and stay invisible. "The Guardians"—that’s what they called the five Lycans who lived in this ancient, dark castle. They enforced the laws of our world, or at least those affecting werewolves, maintaining balance with other supernatural creatures. They delivered justice, protection, and punishment—often in the most brutal, merciless ways. Especially the Lycan King. At least, that's what I had always heard. I was forbidden from climbing the stairs or wandering beyond the service quarters. And honestly, I didn’t plan to try. I focused on working and healing with the medicine the housekeeper gave me. The food here was good too. Except for the first day, I had gone three days without seeing any of the other Guardians. Until this morning. * "Hey, I heard the housekeeper saying she still hasn’t found a suitable candidate for the King's maid. Maybe she'll give us a chance." I was scrubbing the floor on my knees, listening to the whispers echoing through the castle's massive kitchen. My head stayed down, and my long black bangs nearly covered my eyes, helping to conceal the disfigurement on my face. My hands kept moving the cloth over the tiles, but ignoring the gossip was impossible. Suddenly, the room went silent. Heels echoed from the hallway, and tension filled the air— it was the housekeeper. "Stop what you're doing. I want all of you in a line," she ordered, her voice sharp. The cooks, maids, and even me—the lowly cleaner—all lined up like prisoners, standing side by side. She began her inspection, passing each trembling figure, heads bowed low. When her shadow passed in front of me, I thought she would move on. She didn’t. "What was your name again?" she asked. "Valeria, ma'am," I replied softly. Her cold finger pressed beneath my chin, forcing me to raise my head. My blue eyes met her intimidating green gaze. "Good. I think I'll try a different strategy this time. Come with me," she ordered, and a sense of dread twisted in my chest. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the stares from the other women in the line. Bitter glares filled with jealousy, anger, envy. Nothing good. That much was certain. "Listen carefully, Valeria. You're going to be King Aldric's personal maid," she dropped the bombshell casually, as if it were nothing, walking toward the other side of the kitchen. "Do you know how to cook, iron, organize a man’s things, his clothes, and so on?" "Y-yes, ma'am. But… I don’t think I'm the right choice for the position. Perhaps someone more—" "It's not optional," she cut me off, turning abruptly. "You either accept it, or you leave. I don't need a floor cleaner right now. I need a maid for the King. Understood?" I had no choice but to nod. Sometimes, I forgot that this harsh woman had saved my life. Though, honestly, I still didn’t know why—especially now that she was sending me straight into the Lycan's den. "Memorize everything I'm about to say. The King wakes up at… He doesn’t like… Prefers it this way… And his meals are only prepared by the cook from this section. Make sure it’s always her… And you must taste it before serving him." She paced through the kitchen, the laundry area, practically the entire service zone, listing the King's preferences and dislikes. I followed, my brain nearly short-circuiting from the overwhelming information. I need to write all this down later! "Alright. You'll deliver his first breakfast now. Do exactly as I tell you,” she said, placing a silver tray full of covered dishes in my hands. "And Valeria… remember, head down. Stay invisible. You're nothing but a piece of furniture." "And I trust you haven't forgotten the scene from your first day here. If you try anything against the King, believe me, he was merciful with that woman." Her warning made me swallow hard as I nodded. I didn’t consider myself a coward, but it felt like I was marching straight to the gallows as I climbed the forbidden stairs, moving through the dim candlelit corridors leading to the Guardian leader's quarters. I reached the only door in this wing—an enormous wooden door with intricate carvings—and tried to recall every instruction. "Don't knock at this hour. Go straight inside." So, I did. Balancing the tray carefully, I twisted the heavy doorknob. Step by step, I entered the den of the big bad wolf, avoiding unnecessary glances around. I immediately noticed the large wooden table at the center, the dim lighting, and I focused on setting the breakfast properly. But then I heard it—and smelled it. The scent of lust. Through my bangs, I glanced toward a black door, slightly ajar. Muffled female moans seeped through, despite being closed. More than one woman’s voice. The rhythmic sound of something hitting a wall echoed. Maybe the bed—I didn’t know, and I didn’t care. The most important rule: head down, stay invisible. Don't speak. Don't look. Don't listen. I was so focused on remembering every detail of his preferences, circling the table, that I didn’t even notice when the sounds stopped. "Who are you?" a dominant voice behind me made me flinch. My trembling fists tightened, and I turned, staring down at the gray rug. "Your Majesty, my name is Valeria. I am your new maid," I managed without stuttering. A massive shadow loomed over me, every instinct screaming danger, run—but I stood firm as he placed a finger beneath my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. I expected disgust at my scarred face. Instead, I saw fierce, intimidating gray eyes studying me—so captivating they resembled lethal steel. "Where's your inner wolf?" he asked, frowning. How had he noticed with just one glance? "I… I’m not entirely sure, sir. I suffered a traumatic experience before I turned eighteen, and her spirit never appeared. But… I can shift into my wolf form. Others say it's a curse." I added quickly, half-expecting to be dismissed on my first day. Scarred, cursed—what a perfect maid. "Is that why your face hasn't healed?" he asked, his voice calm but piercing. "I suppose so, sir. My healing is… slower than others." He said nothing, but his intense scrutiny made my skin crawl. Did I say the wrong thing? I avoided lingering on his rugged features, but it was becoming clear why so many women risked losing their heads just for a night in his bed. Aldric Thorne was a man built for sin. A towering figure, nearly two meters tall, with a powerful, scarred body, bold and commanding. Muscular, rough, impossibly attractive. And despite his icy aura, his long shoulder-length hair was deep crimson, just like his short beard—like fire, like blood he could spill without flinching. "I don't care about your peculiarities, but I do expect you to have understood the rules clearly because I won't tolerate disobedience or tricks," he warned me, his voice dangerously low and guttural. I nodded, swallowing hard. "Yes, your maje—" "And call me Sir. I don't like that Your Majesty nonsense," he clarified, finally releasing me and walking toward the other side of the room. I exhaled, realizing I had been holding my breath the entire time. Yet, I could still catch that scent lingering from his skin, something like aged wine—rich, and intoxicating. Could it be some cologne? I couldn't detect the pheromones of werewolves like others could. "They'll be here soon to collect those women. Make sure they leave and clean up everything," he ordered without even sparing me a glance, then disappeared through a door leading to what seemed like another room. I remained standing there in the dim light, frozen for a moment. Then, clenching my fists, I gathered my resolve and moved to deal with his lovers still in bed. I opened the door and stared in shock at the chaotic scene inside. The room was dimly lit, clothes strewn across the floor, and in the center, three women lay sprawled. The heavy scent filled the air, making it hard to breathe. "Umm… ladies, it's time to leave," I said softly, but none of them reacted, their eyes shut as if completely oblivious. They looked exhausted, their bodies marked with bites, bruises, and a mess of fluids staining their thighs. "The King ordered you to leave. You need to—" "Shut up, you annoying brat!" snarled the blonde lying in the middle of the two brunettes, even throwing a pillow at me, which I narrowly dodged. Well, they still have some energy left, it seems. Okay, this wasn’t going as smoothly as I had imagined, and they were already settling back down as if planning to sleep there. Aren't they uncomfortable covered in all that… stuff? But I couldn't fail my first task. I knew he had done this on purpose—to test me. I headed to the bathroom, filled a basin with cold water, and placed it near the bed. Rolling up my sleeves, exposing my pale arms, I then walked over to the massive crimson curtains, grabbed the heavy fabric, and yanked them open with force. "Aaaahh! Close it, right now! Close the curtain!" they screeched like the possessed, even though the sky was overcast. The sun never really shone brightly here—this land was always cloaked in thick fog. Grabbing the basin, I lifted it and—splash! —drenched them in icy water to snap them out of it. "Have you lost your damn mind, maid?!" C5 THE KING'S MAID VALERIA "Aahh, it’s horrible, she’s deformed!" "You’re just jealous, that’s why you want to keep us away from the King!" "The Lord has said you must leave now," I repeated impassively, while they hurled insults at me. But I felt nothing—not cold, not heat. I thought about how to get them out since, weakened or not, there were three of them and only one of me. Just then, loud knocks echoed from the side door leading to the hallway, a door I hadn’t even noticed before. It had to be the person sent to remove them from the castle. I walked over and opened it, revealing two sturdy servants who entered without a word. The women began to resist, screaming that their bodies were only for the King, threatening that our heads would roll. I didn’t need to be here long to see through their lies. That man had used them like disposable objects and was now discarding them like trash. The blonde rushed toward the door leading to the dining hall, but I stepped in front of her, standing firm and blocking her way. "Have some dignity and leave already. The King has ordered it. Don’t risk dying." "I want him to tell me himself! Last night, he showed me otherwise! Get out of my way!" she lunged at me, baring her fangs. I defended myself, grabbing her arms mid-air as we struggled. Her long claws scratched me in her fury, and I knew I could control her because, right now, she was weak. This she-wolf was stronger than me—honestly, anyone was stronger than me. With the help of the servants, we managed to drag the last crazed woman out of the room. I shut the door, breathing heavily. "Quite the first day on the job," I muttered in resignation, staring at the disaster I now had to clean. * I wiped the sweat from my forehead, taking a moment to catch my breath, surveying the nearly tidy room. The worst part was the bed. Even after removing the dirty sheets, I had gone overboard with the water. So, I thought of pushing the mattress closer to the window to let it air out and catch some sun. "Mmnn," I grunted, yanking at the heavy king-size mattress, my hands trembling. I doubted I could move it. I kept struggling when— "How many centuries does it take you to organize a room?" His voice startled me—I hadn’t heard him enter. I turned to apologize, but a wrong step, my nerves, and apparently a sticky substance I’d left on the floor caused me to lose my balance and fall forward. By instinct, I grabbed onto the first thing I could, falling to my knees with my eyes shut tight. Something had slipped from my hands, and now another thing, thick, brushed against my nose. A dark, musky, intoxicating scent assaulted my senses. When I opened my eyes again and saw the sight before me, I wished I could die right there without needing him to kill me. In my hands was a black towel—I assumed it had been around the King's hips—and I was on my knees, clutching his powerful thighs, with a massive, veiny member right in front of my wide eyes. «Girl, this could make you cry» was the first thing that crossed my mind in my nervous breakdown. And to think it was only half... not even Dorian’s compared in detail. "Should I fetch a tape measure so you can size it up too?" His cold voice snapped me out of my frozen state. Terrified, I raised my gaze to see him completely naked, in all his glory, his burgundy hair loose and tousled, damp from the shower, and I could swear his gray eyes held a mocking glint. "Your Majesty, I’m so sorry! Please, spare the life of this humble servant who doesn’t deserve your mercy!" I threw myself to the ground, pressing my forehead against the hard surface, begging him. What I had done was unforgivable. By the Goddess, I had even stayed there... staring at it. His threatening shadow loomed over my trembling body. I clenched my eyes shut, bracing for the end. "I’ll leave right away... I beg you... I’ll leave the castle... please..." "I don’t have the patience to find a new servant every day. You leave when I decide so. Now get up." His deep voice rumbled close to my ear, and I felt him tugging at the towel I still clutched in my hands. I released it immediately, sweat trailing down my back as my entire body trembled. "Besides, if you’re going to serve me, it won’t be the last time you see it. It’s not a big deal. Come to the dining room," he added before his bare footsteps echoed away from the room. Swallowing nervously, I stood on shaky legs. «Come on, Valeria, focus, please. » "Try the breakfast," he ordered, gesturing to the food set on the table. He sat, dominating the large chair, observing my every move. I picked up the fork and cut a small piece from each dish, tasting everything bite by bite. "If something is not to your liking, I can ask the kitchen to—" "That won’t be necessary. Everything’s fine," he interrupted and then fell silent. I kept my gaze on the floor, unsure of what he was waiting for, frantically reviewing every rule in my mind. "Do you think I’m a savage who eats with his hands?" "What? No, no, Your Maj... Sir..." I quickly lifted my gaze and saw him glancing at the fork still in my hand. Holy Goddess, I had covered the only utensil with saliva! The housekeeper hadn’t mentioned I had to taste the food here too! "I... I’ll get another, I’m so sorry—" "You seem to apologize well," he said as he took the fork from my hand. "It’s dirty, I... I ate with it—" I didn’t finish because he wiped it with a napkin and began eating calmly. I stepped back, standing in the corner, awaiting his orders. Through my bangs, I occasionally stole glances at him. He looked relaxed wearing just the towel, eating and reviewing some documents beside him. No matter what the Lycan King did, his aggressive aura filled the entire space, demanding only obedience and submission. This was my new master. And honestly, I was starting to wonder if I’d be better off running far away from this castle... and this pack. Aldric Thorne was the most dangerous thing I could have crossed paths with. *** Days passed, and despite my rookie mistakes, I managed to survive. The Lord wasn’t constantly present at the castle either—he often traveled between packs or faced dangerous situations. I hadn’t even seen the other “Guardians” until one morning. "Phew, I honestly don’t know how you handle the pressure and temptation," said Juliette. She was the only staff member who had approached me. An extroverted, cheerful girl. I didn’t consider her a friend, though—I'd never trust a woman like that again. But at least her chatter kept me entertained. We were walking through the underground corridor carrying laundry baskets when a side door leading to one of the many training gyms opened. A massive Lycan emerged. I knew by the powerful aura he projected. We immediately lowered our heads, waiting for him to pass, but his steps approached us instead. "Are these clean towels?" asked a strong but calm male voice. "Yes, yes, Sir," I answered, realizing I was the one carrying them. I glanced up for a second. Enchanting golden eyes stared back at me. I quickly lowered my gaze to the carpet and handed him a towel, but as he reached out, our fingers brushed for a moment. His touch was warm. Despite being intimidating, this Lycan projected a protective aura—not as sharp and wild as the King's. "I’m sorry... I’m so sorry—" "Relax, it’s fine. Thank you," he replied, taking the towel and walking away down the hallway. And then I dared to look at his back. Blond hair, massive like all Lycans, powerful, his muscular, sweaty back glistening, dressed in black combat gear. It seemed like he had been training. For some reason, the combination of his eyes and hair reminded me a bit of Dorian. I didn’t want to remember him at all, but the mind could be a traitor. He had been the first—and only—man I’d loved. "Right? He’s so handsome! I mean, they’re all attractive and hot, but for me, the best ones are the King and Guardian Quinn... Though the King, ugh, that man is pure fire. I’m torn—what do you think, Valeria? Would you prefer the King or Quinn?" Before I could scold her for talking so carelessly, her face turned pale, staring behind me in panic. A powerful presence pressed against my back, hot breath brushing against my ear. "I’d like to know too, Valeria. Who would you prefer? And why did you let another man touch what’s mine?" The basket in my hands begins to tremble along with my hands. I'm done for. And even though I know he’s talking about the towels, for some reason, it feels like he’s talking about me. "Ss… Sir..." "Get out!" he ordered Juliette, who looked at me for a second with guilt but had no choice but to flee almost running. I remained with my back to him. Could I run too? "I'm still waiting, Valeria. Tell me, are you unhappy with the position you were given? Would you prefer to be Quinn's personal maid instead? Turn around!"	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2,756,201	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2756212}'	Yes	2025-03-03 12:18	active	2772	😍Read the next chapters👉	Two brothers were leisurely walking along the riverbank, enjoying the quiet night. Suddenly, they heard the sound of small footsteps approaching them. As cultivators of the martial path, they recognized the footsteps as those of a young child. Before long, Gyu and Gwei saw a tired five-year-old child. The exhausted child, taking irregular breaths, remained frozen in place upon spotting them. He then immediately prostrated himself before Gyu and Gwei. "Sir... Please help my mother!" The child said while repeatedly bowing to Gyu and Gwei. The two of them exchanged glances. Gwei stepped forward and approached the child. "What is your name, young one?" "My name is Tian, Sir," the child replied quickly. "What's wrong with your mother?" "My mother won't wake up. She's been in bed since yesterday, and her body is cold and stiff!" Tian explained with a worried expression. "Please help my mother. I promise to be your servant forever, as long as you check on my mother's condition!" he declared firmly. Moved by the determination of the young child, Gyu and Gwei agreed to his request. Gyu picked up the child and carried him. "Where is your home, child?" Tian pointed in a direction, and Gyu, carrying Tian, and Gwei leaped in the direction indicated by the young boy. Soon, they arrived at a ramshackle hut near a small river. They hurriedly entered the hut. Gwei, also a medic, immediately examined the woman lying motionless on a wooden pallet in the small room. In truth, even without Gwei's examination, they could tell that the woman had lost her vital signs. As cultivators, they could sense that the woman had passed away. However, to give the young child some time to realize and accept the cruel fact, Gwei followed the child's request to examine his mother. "Come here, child," Gwei called the young boy closer. "Can you check if there's breath coming from your mother’s nose?" Tian promptly directed his finger under his mother's nostrils. "There's none, sir!" he replied quickly. "Now, get close and put your ear to her chest." "Do you hear or feel her heartbeat?" Gwei asked. "No, sir," replied Tian, his head still resting on his mother's chest. "Sorry to say so, but your mother has passed away, child." Gwei explained calmly. Gwei didn't want to sugarcoat the situation for the child. He wanted him to accept the reality and be strong in this harsh world. Hearing Gwei's words, Tian fell silent and stared idly. After a few breaths, Tian nodded in understanding. Tian looked back at his mother, hugged her lifeless body, and then took two steps back. He performed three bows in front of his mother's body. Afterward, he turned to Gwei and Gyu, and prostrated himself before them. "Thank you both for checking on my mother!" he expressed his gratitude. "As promised, I will serve you as your servant," Tian added firmly. Gyu and Gwei were taken aback by the five-year-old's determination. They hadn't expected such a declaration from him. "We didn't help because we expected something in return. There's no need for you to become our servant. It's only natural for people to help each other," Gwei quickly replied. "Sir, my mother used to say that a man should never break his promises and oaths," Tian insisted. "I promised to be your servant, and I kindly ask that you accept me as your servant in return. I have nothing to offer, so please accept me as payment for your services," he said seriously. Gyu and Gwei exchanged glances, surprised by the determination and strong-willed nature of the young child. "Very well, if that's what you want. You will be our servant until we believe your debt is paid," Gyu exclaimed. "Thank you. I will not disappoint you," Tian said with gratitude. "May I request some time to take care of my mother's body? My mother once said that if she passed away, she wanted her body to be cremated, and her ashes to be scattered in this river." Tian requested straightforwardly. "Yes, take your time," Gwei replied, offering a small smile to Tian. Tian immediately left his home. "Why did you agree to make the child our servant, brother?" Gwei asked his older brother. "This child has strong principles and a strong will. The more we refuse, the more we'll challenge his principles. Besides, I already told him he would be our servant until we feel he's paid his debt," Gyu explained. "This child is not as simple as he appears. I just wanted to evaluate his character and determination. Do you understand, brother?" "I understands your point, brother," Gwei replied. "Good. Let's observe what the child is doing," Gyu said. Gyu and Gwei watched as Tian, without any light source, easily reached the edge of the forest. In the dark night, they could see him gathering dry sticks by the river's edge. His thin body carried the sticks by tying them to himself, and he dragged them towards his hut. "This child has a strong memory. His maturity doesn't match his age," Gyu noted. "True, as long as we guide him properly, he can become someone great," Gwei added. "Although he may not be a genius, individuals like him can surpass even geniuses," Gyu stated. "Like a rough stone, with proper polishing, even a worthless stone can become valuable. Don't forget, even diamonds start as ordinary rocks," Gyu explained with a broad smile. "You're right, brother. This child has the potential to grow," Gwei said with enthusiasm. "Yes, that's correct!" Gyu agreed confidently. Towards morning, Tian stood in front of the wooden mound, which was ready to be lit to cremate his mother's body. It was the last time Tian would see her. He hugged his mother's body for the last time, then removed a necklace from her neck. The necklace had an octagon-shaped pendant with the inscription "Tian" on the back and a carving of a burning dragon on the front. Tian prayed, “Mother, rest in peace in heaven. I promise to fulfill all your wishes and aspirations. Please protect me from up there.” Then, Tian put on his mother's necklace and began lighting the fire to cremate her. Gyu and Gwei sat cultivating in Tian's hut after observing him all night. Gyu slowly opened his eyes. Gyu said, “Brother, please take out the books from your storage bag. I want to assess the boy's abilities and will.” Gwei responded, “Everything, brother? Okay.” Gwei then took out a pile of books from his storage bag. Dozens of books about medicine were scattered on the wooden table in front of them. Gyu then called Tian into the hut. “Boy, can you read and write?” Tian replied, “Yes, Sir.” Gyu said, “Good. In that case, copy this book.” He handed Tian two books, one blank and one Basic Cultivation book. “If you’re hungry, there’s dry bread in that basket. We will be meditating from now on, so don’t disturb us. You can continue your work now.” Tian nodded in understanding and began copying the book given him. Though curious about the food and books, Tian kept his questions to himself due to Gyu’s instructions. Within time, Tian finished copying the book. With great curiosity, he started reading the books before him. He read through the basics of treatment, different types of treatments, medicinal plants, acupuncture techniques, and many other subjects. Tian only needed to read each page once to remember everything. Over the course of three days and nights, young Tian devoured all the books, which took Gwei years to memorize. Tian was so engrossed that he only took brief breaks. He stopped reading when he felt hungry and sleepy, eventually falling asleep soundly in his chair. Gyu and Gwei, who had been observing Tian during their meditation, opened their eyes once he had fallen asleep. Gyu said, “This child is incredibly smart. He has an exceptional memory. Now I’m fully convinced of my assessment.” “Gwei, try testing Tian’s memory skills tomorrow morning,” Gyu added. Gwei replied, “Okay, brother. I’m also very curious about his abilities.” The next morning, Tian, who had just woken up, was shocked to find that the books he had tidied up had disappeared without a trace. He also realized that Gyu and Gwei had finished meditating. “Good morning, Sir.” “Sit down,” Gyu ordered. He then took out food from his storage bag. Seeing the food come out of the tiny piece of cloth, Tian gasped in amazement. “Sir, what is this?!” The size of the cloth and the size of the food that emerged from it didn’t match at all. It was as if seeing a dinner table been extracted from a mouse hole. “Just eat first,” Gyu said. Tian quickly finished his food, eager to get answers about what he had seen. Gyu and Gwei, seeing Tian’s behavior, burst out laughing. “Look at you, kid. You said you wanted to be a servant, but now your curiosity has made you forget all about that,” Gwei said. Gwei then explained to Tian about the storage bag, its function, and how to use it. He also explained that besides storage tools made from special leather, other storage tools could be bracelets, rings, or necklaces. The dimensions of the space inside varied. Gwei elaborated that only cultivators could use these storage devices because they required Qi to open them. Qi, or energy, was essential for improving physical health and utilizing one's potential. To truly experience this energy, one must train their breath and physical body, cultivate Qi, and reach optimal energy levels and spiritual life. Gwei explained that humans could store Qi within themselves, and those who did so were called cultivators. Qi was normally stored in one’s dantian, and its capacity increased with the cultivator's realm. Gyu said, “Tian, you’ve read and copied the basic cultivation book. Explain its contents to us.” Tian nodded and proceeded to explain the book’s contents, starting with the basics of cultivation and the division of realms from lowest to highest. “Each realm are divided into three levels: initial, intermediate, and final.” “The are 9 Realms in total, which are Black, Fighter, Earth, Earth King, Emperor, Sky, Tianzun, Saint, and Immortal.” “Bone levels consist of five stages, which are Bronze Bones, Iron Bones, Golden Bones, Diamond Bones, and Dragon Bones.” Gyu nodded with a smile. Tian then continued. “There are 5 levels of alchemists too. Level 1 is called Advanced Alchemist, Level 2 Silver Alchemist, Level 3 Gold Alchemist, Level 4 Master Alchemist, and Level 5 Grandmaster Alchemist.” “A Level 1 Advanced Alchemist can make special pills for the Black Realm. Level 2 Silver Alchemists can make pills for the Fighter and Earth Realms. Level 3 Gold Alchemists can make pills for the Earth King and Emperor Realms. A Level 4 Master Alchemist can make pills for the Sky and Tianzun Realms. And a Level 5 Grandmaster Alchemist can make pills for the Saint and Immortal Realms.” Gyu and Gwei smiled happily at the five-year-old boy's explanation. Gyu said, “Well done. You’re indeed a smart child.” “Your debt is paid. We now free you from our servant status,” Gyu added. Tian’s eyes sparkled. He bowed deeply to Gyu and Gwei and thanked them. Gwei said, “Finding you has been a stroke of luck for both of us. If you wish, we’re willing to teach you, even though both of our realms are only at the late Fighter stage.” Tian was overjoyed by their offer. Without hesitation, he kowtowed three times to them. Tian had intended to become a cultivator from the beginning, driven by a promise to his mother. He wanted to become strong to fulfill that promise and achieve his mother's unfulfilled wishes. Gyu said, “From now on you can call us Master Gyu and Master Gwei. We will teach you the skills and knowledge we have. Even though our knowledge is not advanced, it will at least serve as a foundation for you to survive.” Gwei added, “Moreover, the most important thing is to use the knowledge you gain from us in the path of virtue and truth. Always remember that every human being is equal—there is no difference. Be fair to everyone, uphold the truth, be firm according to the circumstances, and stand on your own feet. Be a useful person and don't let yourself be used or manipulated by evils. A great person is one who works hard and continually challenges themselves to progress and rise to the top, whether in the path of martial arts or medicine.” “Do you understand” Gwei asked. Tian bowed, “I understand your words, Master, and I promise, in the name of heaven and earth, to do my best.” A deafening sound of thunder followed. Gyu and Gwei exchanged glances before looking back at Tian. Gyu muttered to himself, “This child is blessed by heaven. His words have been heard by heaven.” Gyu then said, “Your promise is heard by heaven, son. Even heaven remembers your promise, so always keep it in mind and make it the principle of your life. Understand, son?” Tian replied, “Yes, Master.” Gyu continued, “Even though we are now your masters, we will not make things easy for you. We will only guide you, the rest depends on your own abilities. In the morning, you will train with me, and in the afternoon, you will train with Master Gwei. Prepare yourself well, we will start practicing tomorrow.” “Yes, Master,” Tian responded, nodding and saluting with cupped hands. Meanwhile, Gyu and Gwei introduced their backgrounds. Gyu and Gwei described their home continent, which was divided into five parts: the Eastern Continent, the Western Continent, the Northern Continent, the Southern Continent, and the Central Continent. “Among these, the Central Continent is the strongest, as the most powerful cultivators are found there. The Northern Continent is the second strongest and consists of two empires, with five kingdoms under these empires and four major sects within them. The Southern Continent has three empires and three large sects. The Western Continent also has two empires, four kingdoms, and four sects. The Eastern Continent is composed of three empires, four kingdoms, and four sects. The Central Continent, however, has only one empire, five kingdoms, and ten large sects.” It turned out that Gyu and Gwei were part of the core family of the Guan Nobles, who were nobles in the Han Kingdom. They were currently on a mission from the Han Kingdom to find some medicinal plants in the Sun Kingdom, where Tian currently lived, specifically in the City of Leaves. The Sun Kingdom and the Han Kingdom were allies, so they had no difficulty entering this area. Gyu said, “Tian, now you know where we come from. We won’t be here for long, so make the best use of the time we have. What we will teach you is only basic knowledge to lay the foundation for your cultivation. The development will be up to you. You must study hard and improve yourself, as life outside is very tough—the strong prey on the weak, and everyone looks out for their own benefit. So don’t be naive.” Gyu then took out a book from his storage bag for Tian to study. The book Tian received covered the knowledge of breathing and physical training for bone and muscle development. Breathing techniques were the foundation of cultivation, enabling one to absorb Qi from nature, which was then stored in the dantian. However, before progressing in that direction, Tian needed to undergo physical training as the initial preparation for opening his dantian. The next day, Gyu instructed Tian to begin his physical training. The first task was to run across a river that was knee-deep for an adult and 30 meters wide. Tian had to cross it 20 times. Next, he was required to carry a river stone weighing five times his body weight to the side of his hut. After that, he had to assume a horse stance facing the sun and continue with punching and kicking movements. The training pushed Tian’s body to its limits, promoting the development of his muscles and bones. In the afternoon, Tian trained with Master Gwei. Master Gwei taught him about medicine, acupuncture, reflex points, pulse examination, and surgery. Master Gwei also covered the basics of alchemy, explaining that medical knowledge was foundational for becoming an alchemist. Tian, having memorized the theoretical aspects of medicine, was then trained in practical applications, such as concocting medicine, cooking medicine, and combining medicinal herbs with poisons. Gwei advised, “Tian, you must remember to always look forward and not rely solely on the books you read. Books are based on the experiences and work of others and cannot always serve as a benchmark. Problems cannot always be solved with a single approach. Other methods may be necessary, too. Similarly, in treatment, we should not rely on just one drug but consider other possible drugs that may affect the duration or process of healing. Do you understand?” Tian nodded, “I understand.” He then asked, “Master Gwei, are you also an alchemist?” Gwei sighed, “Unfortunately, I have not yet become an alchemist. It is very difficult to achieve that status. I haven’t been able to refine pills well, and I always fail the alchemist exams. I hope you can become an alchemist because I see great potential in you. But ultimately, it’s up to you. Don’t follow others’ wishes, pursue your own goals and achieve them. For us masters, seeing you succeed and even surpass our abilities would bring great joy. Masters’ expectations are similar to parents’ expectations, so don’t let it become a burden. Strive to achieve what you want—that’s enough.” Tian absorbed all his master’s advice and said, “Your instructions will be remembered, and I will practice diligently.” During the first week of Tian's rigorous training, he endured it with unwavering determination, never once complaining. As the days passed, his body slowly began to adapt to the demanding regimen set before him. In the second week, Gyu intensified Tian's training, pushing him even harder. Just as Tian had grown accustomed to the previous level of exertion, he found himself facing even greater challenges. His muscles and bones were pushed to their limits, and he was tasked with running while carrying a stone three times his weight and scaling trees with a burden equal to three times his own. The third week brought yet another addition to Tian's training under Gyu's watchful eye. This time, he was required to endure prolonged periods in the water, testing his survival skills. In the fourth week, Gyu raised the bar once more. Tian was tasked with performing push-ups while carrying a load equivalent to ten times his body weight. Throughout this grueling month of training, Tian never once voiced a complaint or refused any of his masters' demands. His body grew accustomed to the challenges posed by Gyu and Gwei's training. Tian soon realized that Master Gyu focused on honing his physical strength, while Master Gwei concentrated on nurturing his mental prowess. In the following month, there were no additional training segments from Master Gyu. However, this time, Master Gyu imposed a stricter deadline, requiring Tian to complete his training by noon. Tian had to double his efforts, yet he complied without much objection. During the third month, Gyu introduced skill training to Tian. Each morning, Tian practiced physical conditioning and body strengthening. He quickly absorbed and replicated his master's lessons with precision. Meanwhile, Master Gwei intensified Tian's mental training, pushing his Panca Indra abilities to their limits. The focus of Master Gwei's training was on developing Tian's abilities to touch, sense, see, and hear, essential skills for a physician. Additionally, Master Gwei trained Tian in the art of using the flying needle acupuncture technique, a technique passed down through the Guan family. Three months of relentless training transformed Tian. The once slender and frail child had grown more robust, resembling a seven-year-old boy in physique. Mentally, Tian, with his high intelligence and Master Gwei's guidance, had advanced to a level akin to a twelve-year-old. "Come here, my child," beckoned Gyu and Gwei. Tian approached his masters with respect. "Tomorrow, we shall embark on a new phase of training. You will begin to cultivate your natural instinctive sensitivity, a skill that cannot be taught but only arises and flourishes in moments of desperation or near-death experiences. Are you prepared? And now, would you like to initiate the opening of your dantian, my son?" Tian replied, "Master, I trust your judgment, and while I feel my body is ready for the dantian opening, I sense that the timing may not be ideal. I believe my body has not yet reached its peak." Gyu and Gwei smiled with pride, grateful to have Tian as their disciple. They considered him a true genius. His dedication was remarkable, especially considering the challenging training meant for Black Realm cultivators, which often required two years to complete. Yet, Tian, at the tender age of six, had accomplished it in just three months. In their eyes, the countless self-proclaimed cultivation geniuses, whether young masters, noble descendants, or sect disciples, were mere pretenders. Most of these so-called geniuses owed their success to abundant resources, pills, and family support. Tian was the real deal, one in ten thousand who walked the path of martial dao with sincerity. "You've made a wise choice, Tian. Do what you believe is best for yourself, for only you truly understand your own capabilities," encouraged Gyu and Gwei. "Tian, we have summoned you here because we have decided to resume our mission soon. We have lingered here for too long," said Gyu with a hint of sadness. "Unfortunately, my child, due to the perilous nature of our mission, it is unlikely that we can take you with us," added Gwei. Tian didn't want to part ways with his beloved teachers, but he understood that this might be the destined path between him and the men he considered his father figures. KneeIing before his masters, Tian expressed his heartfelt gratitude. "Master Gyu, Master Gwei, I understand and appreciate all you have done. Thank you for imparting your knowledge and granting me a second chance at life." I promise to make you proud and fulfill your wishes. I vow to meet you in the Kingdom of Han in the future. Please accept my respect." Tian paid his respects by prostrating himself three times before Gyu and Gwei. "Come here, my son," Gwei said, embracing Tian. "Stay strong, follow your path, and keep your heart steadfast. Remember that every effort you put forth will yield results. This is a gift from us to you." Gwei handed Tian a storage bag and continued, "Take good care of it. Inside, you'll find some small gifts." He then presented a token to Tian, saying, "Keep this token as a reminder. When the day comes for you to visit the Kingdom of Han, return it to us. It will always connect you to us." "Thank you, Masters, for everything," Tian replied with gratitude. Gyu also handed Tian two books and a small sword. "This sword is now yours, and within this book lies the knowledge of a Black-level sword technique. Study it hard. The other book contains advanced techniques and punches. Given your intelligence, I believe you can develop these Bronze-level techniques to even greater heights." Tian accepted these gifts from his masters with gratitude. "Take care of yourself, my son. Always remember, you have a place to call home with us." And with heartfelt farewells, Gyu and Gwei left Tian. Tian began to enter the Red Forest to start his training. After Master Gyu and Master Gwei left, Tian has been training in this forest to hone his instincts. Apart from honing his instincts, Tian also honed the skills on how to survive. Tian had been told that before he successfully opened his dantian, he could only live on the edge of the Red Forest because the center was inhabited by spirit animals and fierce beasts. Beasts themselves were also divided into several levels or realms, and their realm of strength was almost the same as the realm of cultivators. Beast realms were also divided into nine stages, and also started from the lowest level of Black Realm to the highest leve of Immortal Realm. Upon arriving at the edge of the Red Forest, Tian heard a suspicious sound from the direction of the bushes. Tian's five senses suddenly became sensitive. Tian walked warily, and after only taking a few steps, a beast appeared from behind him. It ran quickly, trying to pounce on Tian. Tian reflexively avoided, jumped, and rolled to his right. Just as he was about to get up, he felt the danger coming at him from behind again. Tian rolled again and jumped forward. After there was some distance between Tian and the beast, Tian could clearly see the beasts in front of him. They were two young beasts, which seemed to be still learning how to hunt preys. Perhaps if they were adult beasts, Tian would have been killed by them already. Tian who didn't have any experience in dealing with this situation subconsciously moved back and ran. The two beasts chased after him, flanking him from behind both on the right and left. Tian dodged again quickly when he felt an attack from his right. Tian turned his head and saw the beast on his right jumping towards him, trying to tear his body with its claws. Tian was forced to jump to avoid being attacked by the beast. He managed to avoid it. Tian then felt an attack coming from his left. Tian ducked to avoid the claws that were trying to hit his head. Then as fast as lightning, Tian tried to run in the opposite direction. Scared and unexperienced, Tian was currently only following his instincts. The intelligent Tian disappeared, replaced by a Tian who was frightened and running for his life. His fear even made him forget what he had learned. With cold sweat dripping all over his body, Tian ran in no particular direction to avoid the two predators. By now, Tian still hadn’t realized that he had managed to avoid these two beasts again and again. His body moved naturally and avoided reflexively based on the sensitivity of his five senses. And without his realizing it, Tian had begun to develop sharp instincts. However, just as the attack and dodge game continued, one of the beasts finally succeeded in landing a cut on Tian's left shoulder and cornered him against a large tree. Blood dripped from Tian’s shoulder. The two beasts quickly blocked Tian's escape path, preparing to start their final attack. Feeling cornered and unable to escape, Tian subconsciously glared at his potential predator. Tian was panting with sweat the size of corn dripping from his face. The blood flow felt like it was flowing rapidly to his brain, and breaking through the cells and nerves in his brain. Suddenly, his body responded to impulse signals from the brain working in his subconscious mind which ordered his body to form a self-defense stance. Yes, his survival instinct grew and subconsciously took control. Meanwhile, the two impatient beasts jumped while opening their jaws ready to pounce on Tian's body. When Tian and the two predators were only half a step apart, Tian reflexively lowered his body slightly and his right hand automatically hit the jaw of the beast on the right. After that, Tian did a spinning kick towards the beast on the left. BOOM! Tian’s punches and kicks came in hard which made the attacks of the two beasts fail completely. The two beasts fell backwards and hit the tree. BOOM! BOOM! The sound of the two beasts hitting the big tree vibrated at the same time. And this brought Tian back to full consciousness. Tian grinned excitedly. Although feeling exhausted, Tian had now started to control his fear and was able to think clearly. Tian quickly climbed high up a towering tree, and took out the sword Master Gyu had given him. While sitting on a branch high above the ground, Tian made a big hole the size of himself. Yes, Tian apparently made a resting place for him in the tree. Meanwhile, the two beasts that had previously tried to climb the tree apparently failed to follow Tian's footsteps. The two beasts then attacked blindly towards the tree trunk, but unfortunately the tree trunk was quite hard, making it difficult for them, plus both of them were exhausted after chasing Tian all day. Finally, both of them left Tian. Then Tian entered the tree hole. Due to exhaustion, Tian finally fell asleep. "Just wait, I'll deal with you stvpid beasts later." Tian frowned and promised in his dreams, as the pain from the wounds continued to haunt him. Feeling a sharp pain in his shoulder, Tian jolted awoke. He sat up and retrieved his storage pouch. A smile formed on his face as he looked inside. It turned out that Master Gwei had provided him with a variety of herbs. It seemed that Master Gwei had anticipated what Tian would go through during his training. Tian took out a healing ointment and applied it to his shoulder wound. The pain quickly subsided, and the open wounds healed rapidly. Next, Tian grabbed a piece of dry bread and ate it hungrily. After satisfying his hunger, he examined the contents of his storage pouch once more. Inside, he found two sets of acupuncture needles, more healing ointment, a tool for concocting medicine, various medicinal plants, a basket of bread, some dried meat slices, and two leather pouches filled with water. Additionally, there were several books on medicine preparation and pill refinement techniques. Tian placed all these items back into his storage pouch. He assumed a seated position and began meditating, attempting to align his body and mind. Tian reflected on the events of the previous day, recalling his near-death experience and his own shortcomings. He recognized his own foolishness, fear, and lack of self-confidence. Now, Tian resumed his training with newfound confidence. He realized that his survival the previous day was not solely due to luck but a result of the training he had undergone. Tian could evade, flee, and even fight back, showcasing his physical strength. During that critical moment, he had relied solely on his instincts. Tian began his physical training once again, just as he always did. He trained in an open area, ready to anticipate attacks from the beast creatures. After a short while of training, Tian heard distant sounds. He looked and saw the two beasts that had attacked him the previous day. Tian grinned, saying, "My training partners have returned at last." Without wasting time, the two beasts charged toward Tian from different directions, prepared to pounce. However, this time, Tian was ready to face them head-on. As the two beasts closed in, Tian leaped and counterattacked both of them, landing several blows on each. Receiving this unexpected counterattack infuriated the two beasts, and they blindly pursued Tian, who intentionally fled to enhance his speed and agility. Tian ran toward the trees, employing zigzag movements to dodge their attacks repeatedly. His evasive maneuvers frustrated and further enraged the two beasts. In addition to running and evading, Tian occasionally launched counterattacks, successfully landing multiple punches and kicks. For half a day, Tian engaged in a fierce battle with the two beasts, culminating in their retreat due to numerous bruises and injuries. Tian remained uninjured, his breathing steady and regular. Tian chose not to finish off the two beasts, at least not yet. He lacked the confidence to do so. After the two beasts fled, Tian began to explore his living area, scouting within a 300-meter radius. He recalled a book he had read about battle strategy, emphasizing that in a battle, understanding one's opponent and the terrain would greatly increase the chances of victory. One month passed, and Tian had gained a good understanding of the terrain and the beasts within his territory. He made these beasts his daily training targets, and occasionally, he was counterattacked by groups of beasts. Tian had begun to use his experiences as valuable lessons. Thanks to this, his childish behavior gradually disappeared, and he matured quickly. Three full moons passed without notice. Tian's physical condition had improved significantly. Besides his physical training, the nutrients from the beast meat he consumed and the medicinal herbs he took for muscle and bone strengthening contributed to his growth. His body no longer resembled that of a typical child his age. Six months had elapsed, and Tian felt that his body was in optimal condition for opening his dantian. Through several life-or-death battles with the local beasts, he had sensed that the barrier covering his dantian had become thinner. He believed that soon enough, he would open it naturally, without force. Tian had no intention of following the usual methods described in books for dantian opening. He planned to take a different path and open his dantian as naturally as possible. To achieve this, he intended to use the fire-elemental beast core as the foundation. His goal was clear: to fulfill his dream of becoming a true alchemist. Alchemists used fire as their "weapon" in the pill refinement process. From his experiments, Tian hoped that his dantian would be more receptive to the fire element's Qi, leading to a transformation of his dantian into one imbued with the fire element. Tian found himself inside the cave of a Fire Tiger beast, which he had managed to defeat after a long and exhausting battle. Tian retrieved the Fire Tiger beast's core and, after a moment of composure, began absorbing the Qi from it. Gradually, red Qi flowed into his body, penetrating his dantian effortlessly. His dantian, which had been empty and the size of a marble, expanded to the size of a ping pong ball as it was filled with the fiery Qi. Slowly, it continued to expand until it reached its maximum size, glowing with a bright red hue. As the primary dantian absorbed the fire Qi, it, in turn, distributed energy to every major meridian in his body. "BOOM!" An explosion of energy emanated from Tian's body, signifying the successful opening of his dantian. "Hahaha... it worked! My experiment succeeds!" Tian exclaimed joyfully. While most cultivators had yellow, marble-sized dantians, Tian's was different. It was bright red, the size of a ping pong ball, and had dots of fire essence within it. Moreover, his meridians had expanded, providing larger storage and better circulation for his inner energy. "One experiment down!" Three years had passed since Tian had been living in the Red Forest. Currently, he resided in the deepest region of the forest, known for being inhabited by Mid and High-level Martial Realm beasts. The central area of the Red Forest was dominated by Earth-level and Earth King-level beasts. Living in the forest had heightened Tian's sensory perception and instincts. He had finished off dozens of Low and Mid-level Martial Realm beasts, gaining various benefits from their carcasses. Tian obtained body parts such as gallbladders, claws, bones, and hearts from these beasts, which he dried and turned into powders for medicinal use. The elemental cores of the beasts, comprised of various elements, were stored for refining pills. Their meat provided Tian with sustenance, as it was rich in Qi and nutrients, making it ideal for cultivators. Tian also improved his medical skills during this time. He practiced herbal medicine, acupuncture, and even surgical techniques. Surprisingly, he found that the meridians of animals and humans were fundamentally similar, differing only in their positions. Currently, Tian was in the Mid-level Martial Realm, but his bones had already reached the Gold level. He didn't rush to advance his cultivation realm further. Tian intended for his cultivation to progress naturally, aligned with the foundation of his body. Balanced cultivation offered significant advantages in terms of strength release. Tian could still hold his own against Higher-level beasts due to his balanced approach. He trained his physical body diligently with weights adjusted to his level, consuming both beast meat and medicinal herbs to elevate his bones to the Gold level. In terms of alchemy, Tian had limited knowledge and could only create basic pills. However, these pills, the product of his own experimentation, maintained their healing properties, albeit at varying levels of effectiveness. Tian's approach to medicine differed from the norm. He dried medicinal plants using his own Qi, preserving their potency. Only after this process did he shape them into pills. He gained the confidence to create more pills after repeated comparisons and experiments. Living in the forest for three years provided Tian with a wealth of experiences that he wouldn't have acquired in a conventional life. Although the Red Forest followed the law of the jungle, Tian adhered to his own principles. He didn't provoke or attack beasts unprovoked. However, if being attacked first, he didn't hesitate to engage in a life-and-death battle. Over time, the forest's inhabitants indirectly accepted his presence. While Martial Realm beasts lacked high intelligence, they possessed strong instincts. Tian's frequent battles and assistance to injured beasts in the forest had established his reputation. Even though the beasts lacked high intelligence, they remembered his acts of kindness. The wounded beasts he helped would sometimes visit his cave to leave freshly hunted prey as a form of gratitude. As a result, Tian wasn't surprised when he occasionally found fresh animal carcasses outside his cave after waking up from meditation. While Tian was conducting physical training in his cave, he sensed a gathering of beasts not far from the cave's entrance. Their auras indicated that they were Martial Realm beasts, but Tian's instincts detected no hostile intent. "What do they want?" Tian wondered. He focused his kilIing intent on the beasts, but they remained still, showing no signs of aggression. Curiosity piqued, Tian emerged from his cave. There were twelve silver wolves standing about twenty meters from the cave's entrance. Tian recognized this pack of silver wolves. They controlled the southern territory near his dwelling. Some time ago, Tian had saved a young injured silver wolf from another beast's attack. Tian simply stood there, observing the pack. He didn't know how to communicate with them. Soon, two Martial Realm silver wolves cautiously approached Tian, but they showed no intent to attack. Tian felt slightly uneasy as he wasn't confident in facing two Martial Realm beasts simultaneously. However, the wolves didn't display any aggression, and their Martial Realm auras remained concealed. Tian decided to observe further. The two wolves nodded their heads, and Tian returned the gesture. One of them slowly approached Tian and then lay down about a meter in front of him. The pack's leader, who was behind the two wolves, followed suit, lying down as well. The other ten wolves did the same. Tian understood that they were requesting his assistance. He carefully approached the injured wolf and examined its hind leg, discovering a wound from a venomous fire cobra's bite. "It's a bite from a fire cobra," Tian muttered. Using his acupuncture needles, Tian applied several needles around the wound, and then he drew his sword. Before proceeding, Tian glanced at the wolf, saying, "You may not understand what I'm saying, but at least I'm telling you that I'm going to cut your wound with this sword." "Hopefully, the beast understands," Tian thought. The wolf nodded. Tian proceeded to make an incision on the wound. Initially, black blood flowed out, but after a while, it turned red. Tian quickly applied medicinal herbs to stop the bleeding and let the wound heal. He also removed the acupuncture needles, which had served to numb the area. Tian took out three pills from his storage pouch and placed them on a leaf. "Eat these," Tian said. The wolf saw the three pill-sized objects and consumed them without hesitation. Soon, its aura, which had been Martial Realm-level, changed. Initially red, it slowly merged with the silver aura, ultimately settling down and stabilizing. The pills Tian had given were dantian-cleansing pills that he had created. Their purpose was to cleanse the dantian. Besides poisoning their victims, fire cobras, like the fire elementals, released Qi that disrupted their victims' dantian flow, leading to a decrease in cultivation level or even the destruction of the dantian. The wolf stood up abruptly and distanced itself from Tian and the rest of the pack. Suddenly, its Martial Realm aura flared, and it let out a long howl. A silver bolt of lightning struck the silver wolf. Tian and the other wolves were sent flying backward from the shockwave as the wolf's aura transformed. "Earth-level!" The silver wolf beast had just ascended to a higer Realm!	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2,756,205	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2756176}'	No	2025-03-03 12:18	active	2772	😍Read the next chapters👉	After signing the agreement, Isabella Jones stepped out and happened to catch a live interview with Samuel Grant on the news. The host asked, "Mr. Grant, you're so young and accomplished. What's your secret to success?" Samuel raised his left hand and pointed to the wedding ring on his ring finger. "The secret is simple. I have a wonderful wife." The host blinked in surprise. "Oh? I thought you'd share some insights about the industry and your future plans instead." "That's not important. All the wealth I have right now doesn't compare to even a single strand of my wife's hair." "Wow, I really envy your wife…" On the screen, Samuel glanced at his watch, then smiled at the camera. "Sorry, we'll have to pause the interview for a moment. Time's almost up. I'd like to use this live broadcast to say something to my wife." "Of course, Mr. Grant. Go ahead." Samuel's voice softened. "Bella, I just had someone bring you some ginger tea with honey. It should be arriving soon. Drink it and get some good rest. I'll give you a massage when I get home." Around her, a few young women gathered, watching the live broadcast on the big screen. They couldn't help but murmur in envy. "Who is Mr. Grant's wife? To have a man like him so completely devoted…" "That's so sweet! He dotes on her so much! Ugh, I'm so jealous!" The sound of admiring voices filled Isabella's ears. Yet, the person in question remained silent, smiling mockingly. Everyone thought she was the lucky one, that in a past life, she must have saved the entire galaxy to have married a man like Samuel. She used to think so too. But no one knew that Samuel had another woman on the side. They had been married for five years, and for four and a half of them, Samuel had been seeing this other woman. Every time he said he was on a business trip, he was really with her, indulging in passion and unrestrained affection. Isabella still remembered the first time she had seen those videos. Her heart felt like it had been pierced a thousand times with needles—pulled out and stabbed again and again. By the end, it was shattered and broken beyond repair. She also remembered when she was bullied in school. Samuel had stepped in, shielding her from the torment and fiercely teaching the bullies a lesson. He had told her, "Don't be afraid. I'll protect you from now on." There was another time, when they were driving, and an out-of-control truck came barreling toward them. Samuel's first instinct was to throw himself in front of her, shielding her with his own body. He ended up in the hospital for over six months, barely surviving, almost becoming a vegetable. When he finally woke up, his first words were to ask the nurse, "Is Bella okay?" When the nurse confirmed she was fine, he let out a sigh of relief and said, "As long as Bella is fine, it doesn't matter what happens to me." That was the moment Isabella truly fell in love with him—the man who would risk his life to protect hers. She didn't understand it. How could Samuel claim to love her while shamelessly sleeping with another woman? Was it true that men could separate love from desire? Isabella gently touched the wedding ring on her finger before taking it off. She walked past a disabled beggar sitting by the roadside, his empty tin cup containing only a few coins. Isabella approached him and dropped the ring into his cup. "Sell this. The money from it will be enough to buy a house and start a small business." The beggar thanked her repeatedly. In truth, Isabella had put it rather mildly. The ring was a custom design by a foreign jeweler, and the diamonds alone were worth millions. But now, she didn't want it anymore. If a wedding ring symbolized love and loyalty, then her wedding ring was worth nothing right now. Her phone rang—it was Samuel. "Bella, where are you? The person with the ginger tea and honey came to the house, but you weren't there." His voice was urgent, like he was genuinely worried about her. Isabella replied flatly, "I just stepped out for a walk." "Where are you now? I'll come pick you up right away." "No need, I'll be home soon." "No, you're on your period. I can't just leave you alone." Samuel arrived within five minutes. He rushed out of the car, quickly removed his coat, and draped it over her shoulders before pulling her into his arms. "Why are you dressed so lightly? You can't get cold when you're on your period." As Isabella looked up at him in his embrace, she noticed several fresh, red marks around his throat. They were recent. There were also teeth imprints. His clothes smelled faintly of a woman's perfume. So, he had just left Jennifer Lewis's bed before heading to the interview. As Samuel gently rubbed her fingers, he suddenly exclaimed in surprise, "Bella, where's your wedding ring?" Chapter 2 Isabella pulled her hand out of Samuel's grasp. "Maybe I lost it when I left the house this morning." Samuel immediately reached for his phone to dial a number. "I'll have someone go look for it right now." Isabella shook her head. "No need. Just consider it lost." "How can you just let it go? This ring is our wedding ring—it's proof of our love." Proof of their love? Their love had already been shattered beyond recognition by his countless betrayals. Isabella laughed softly. "It's just a piece of jewelry. It doesn't guarantee love." Samuel insisted, "Diamonds are the hardest thing on Earth. It represents my unchanging heart for you." "And what if one day, you betray me?" "That's impossible." "I'm asking, what if?" Samuel looked at her, his gaze sincere, even solemn. He swore, "If I ever betray you, let me be pierced by a thousand arrows and die a painful death." Isabella turned her face away, not wanting to see the fake earnesty in his eyes. Back when she still loved him, hearing him make such an earnest vow would've made her rush to cover his mouth, worried that she was pushing him too far, forcing him to swear like that. But now, she didn't love him anymore, and his words only sounded like a joke. "Bella." Samuel wrapped his arms around her from behind, his voice tinged with a hint of complaint. "Why do I feel like something's off lately? You've been so distant." "I haven't." "You have," he insisted. "Bella, is it because I've been too busy and haven't had time for you? Are you upset with me?" "I told you, I'm not," she said. "Let go of me." "I won't," he said, pulling her closer. "Next week is our fifth wedding anniversary, Bella. I've prepared a surprise for you..." Just then, his phone rang. Samuel immediately released her and pulled out his phone, glancing at the screen. From Isabella's point of view, she saw him smirk, a mischievous glint in his eyes, as his gaze on the screen turned suddenly suggestive. He quickly typed a reply. Then, he looked at her with a slight apology and said, "Bella, there's an urgent matter at the company. I need to head out right now." There was still a flicker of hope inside Isabella. "When will you be back?" Samuel wrapped an arm around her, kissing her gently on the forehead. "I might not be back tonight. But tomorrow morning, I'll bring you your favorite pastries, okay?" Just like that, he was gone. His tablet was still on the couch in the living room. Isabella picked it up, noticing that his WhatsApp was still logged in. Two minutes ago, a woman under the name "Little Tease" had sent him a picture. The woman was dressed in a bunny girl outfit—black fishnet stockings and bright red high heels. Her eyes were half-lidded, her cheeks flushed, and she was licking her fingers seductively. Samuel: Want more? Little Tease: It's so lonely and empty when you're not here, Master. Samuel: I gave you love seven times today. Isn't that enough? Little Tease: Are you coming over, Master? I'm yours tonight, do whatever you want… Samuel's reply was short. Samuel: I'm coming. Isabella turned the tablet off, her heart sinking as she closed her eyes in pain. She thought she had stopped caring, but seeing those messages again felt like a brutal punch to the gut. Tears rolled down her cheeks, hot and relentless. She didn't know when she fell asleep, but all she could remember was dreaming of a man and a woman rolling in the sheets together. The man's face was Samuel's. Just then, her phone vibrated. She opened it to find a video. The scene in the video mirrored the one in her dream perfectly. The man and woman were passionately tangled together, even more intensely than in her dream. Samuel's face was twisted in lust, and she felt nothing but disgust. Jennifer: Have you ever seen him like this? He says he can only let himself go like this with me. The short, one-minute video quickly ended. And then, it looped. Again, and again. Isabella watched it like it was some kind of self-inflicted punishment, over and over again. She needed to make herself see Samuel for what he was right now, to strip away the last shred of love she had for him, and finally drive him out of her heart. Her lawyer had already drafted the divorce papers. She wiped away her tears, then carefully placed the divorce papers into a delicate gift box and tied a ribbon around it. Samuel didn't return until the next afternoon, carrying a box of pastries. "Sweetheart, I promised to bring you these—your favorite pastries. Aren't you happy?" Isabella gave him a distracted hum. Noticing the redness around her eyes, Samuel gently cupped her face, kissing away the tears. "Why are you crying? Who upset my precious wife? Tell me, and I'll make sure they pay for it." He still carried that sickly-sweet scent of someone who had just indulged in an affair, mixed with the faint traces of another woman's perfume. It made her stomach churn. Isabella pushed his hand away, creating some space between them. "No one," she replied flatly. "I just watched a really touching movie last night." Samuel pulled her into his arms, his voice full of concern. "Don't watch them alone anymore. Let me watch them with you next time." Watch with her? He was too busy giving all his time to Jennifer. Isabella suddenly wanted to ask him if he even had time to spend with her anymore. Samuel pointed to the delicate gift box on the coffee table, his face lighting up with surprise. "Bella, is this for me?" Isabella nodded. "You said you had a surprise for me for our fifth wedding anniversary, right? Well, I have a surprise for you, too." Samuel looked thrilled, holding the gift box like it was the most precious thing. "Can I open it now?" Isabella said. "Our anniversary is a week from now. You can open it then." Chapter 3 Samuel thought for a moment, then nodded with a patient smile. "Okay, let's open our surprises together. It'll be more meaningful that way." Isabella suddenly had the urge to see Samuel's reaction when he found out she had passed away and when he saw the divorce papers after. Would he be shocked, confused, or... surprised? Samuel, ever the charmer, tried to cheer her up. "I heard there's a good movie out. How about I take you to see it?" Isabella wasn't interested, but the theater he mentioned was right next to their old high school. It was the place where he had confessed his love to her for the first time. Back in their school days, they spent countless romantic, sweet moments on the street behind the school. It was a place that witnessed the happiest days of their love. Since that was where it all began, it might as well be where it ended. When they arrived at the theater, it was a little crowded. Samuel wrapped his arm around her protectively, pulling her close to shield her from the pressing crowd. Among the crowd, a few young women recognized them. "Hey, isn't that Mr. Grant? The woman he's holding is his wife, right? She's so beautiful!" "How does someone like Mr. Grant even exist? He's so handsome and devoted." "They're such a perfect match. They really do look amazing together." Samuel continued to protectively lead her to their seats. Then, he carefully helped her out of her jacket and held it for her. The theater manager, Isaac Smith, approached them with a wide grin, carrying a hand warmer and a cup of ginger tea with honey. "Mr. Grant, we heard that Mrs. Grant is going through a special time right now. We've prepared these just as you asked. Please let us know if you need anything else." Samuel took the items from him. He placed the hand warmer on her belly, and then handed her the tea. "The temperature's just right. Would you like a sip, Bella?" Isabella mechanically accepted his care, remaining silent the entire time. Samuel frowned slightly, then turned to Isaac. "Go and get some snacks, but nothing too greasy, spicy, or sweet. Bella doesn't like those." "Of course, Mr. Grant, I'll be right back." Isaac hurried off. The movie's opening credits began on the big screen. Just then, a woman approached Isabella's side and quietly said, "Excuse me, my seat is inside. Could you please let me through?" The lights in the theater had already dimmed, and Isabella didn't immediately realize what was happening. She quickly moved aside, letting the woman pass. It wasn't until the woman walked past her and then Samuel, finally settling in the seat next to him, that Isabella understood. She suddenly realized that the voice she had just heard was so familiar—it was the same voice from the video. The woman was Jennifer, the same girl who had been tangled up with Samuel in the video. At the next moment, the cup in Jennifer's hand tilted. The entire drink spilled across Samuel's stomach. "Oh, sorry... I'm so sorry!" Jennifer apologized, fumbling for a napkin from her bag to help him wipe it off. The dampness was on his stomach, but her hands kept sliding down, pressing in places that made Isabella's stomach churn. At the same time, Isabella could clearly feel the arm around her shoulders suddenly tighten. Along with that, his whole body tensed up. Out of the corner of her eye, Isabella glanced at Samuel's lower part. Jennifer's hand was underneath, with Samuel's hand firmly pressing down on hers, his gaze seeming to warn her not to cause trouble. But Jennifer continued to act as though nothing was wrong. She continued smiling and wiping. "Sir, how about I just buy you a new pair of pants?" "No need," Samuel's voice had turned rough and strained. The movie started. It was an animated film—the animals were cute, and the plot was funny. But Isabella couldn't focus on it at all. Ten minutes into the movie, Samuel suddenly stood up. "Bella, Isaac doesn't know what snacks you like. I'll go check." He still held her coat in his hand, draped over his forearm, covering the obvious state on the lower half of his body. As he walked away, Jennifer stood up as well and followed him. When she passed by Isabella, she flashed a disdainful smirk and shot her a quick glance. The look seemed to say: See? He chose me. Five minutes later, Isabella received a text: [Women's restroom.] She quickly left the theater and headed to the restroom at the end of the hallway. From the first stall in the women's restroom, she could hear muffled groans and faint pleas—no doubt Jennifer's voice. And the man's voice... Isabella knew it all too well. She stood frozen, rooted to the spot, unable to move. The noise from the stall grew louder, and the woman let out a sharp cry. Then, Samuel's mocking voice came, "Is that all you can handle? You chased after me to the theater, and this is how you perform?" Jennifer whimpered, and it was hard to tell if she was crying or laughing. "I miss you... I just can't stand seeing you with her." Samuel's tone cooled slightly. "I can give you everything else, but our affair can't be dragged in front of Bella. You've crossed the line tonight." "Okay, I get it. But don't you think it's exciting to be in a dark theater like this? It's a thrill." He chuckled softly. "It is a bit." "Then… should we continue tonight?" His voice was hoarse and strained. "I'll buy tickets in a bit for the midnight show." "Make sure it's the last row, okay? That way we won't have to hide in the bathroom... We can just be in our seats…" Not far off, Isaac hurried over. But he wasn't holding snacks—he had a small square box in his hands. He quietly called out near the women's restroom door, "Mr. Grant, I've bought the thing you asked for." The noise inside finally quieted for a moment, and Samuel appeared at the door. Isabella quickly stepped behind a pillar, her heart racing. Samuel chuckled lightly. "That was fast." "Of course, the movie's short—only three hours. Can't waste a moment of your special time," Isaac replied. Samuel sounded pleased. "Take good care of Bella. Don't let her notice anything unusual, understood?" "You can count on me, Mr. Grant. Mrs. Grant is so innocent. Women like her are easy to please—she'll believe anything you tell her." Isabella fled as if running for her life. Back in her seat, she let herself cry for a few minutes. But then, she forced herself to stop. This was the last time. This was the last time she would cry for Samuel. But it wasn't really for him. It was for the pure-hearted boy in her memories, the one who had only eyes for her. The man with her now was nothing like that boy anymore. And since he wasn't, she wouldn't hold onto him anymore. Chapter 4 Samuel didn't return until the movie was almost over. He still smelled of that sickly-sweet, pungent scent. In addition to that, he brought a box of popcorn. "Bella, I'm sorry I'm late. The popcorn machine broke down at the theater, and they spent forever fixing it. It's freshly made, though. Eat it while it's warm." Isabella waved her hand. "I don't want any." "Not even the ginger tea with honey?" "I don't want it." "Alright, no food, no drink, then. Let's just watch the movie." Isabella scoffed. "The movie's almost over." "It's all that technician's fault. He took so long to fix the machine." "So, for the last three hours, you've just been waiting for him to fix it?" Samuel nodded earnestly. "Yes. Isaac can vouch for me. If you don't believe me, you can ask him." "No need," Isabella said, grabbing her bag and walking away. Samuel hurried after her, holding her coat and the popcorn. "Bella, just tell me what I did wrong. I'll change, okay? Don't ignore me. I'm scared." "Scared of what?" "Scared that you don't love me anymore." Isabella stopped and turned to face him, looking straight into his eyes. It was he who had betrayed their relationship first. It was he who said one thing and did another. It was he who stopped cherishing her. Since that was the case, she decided to take back everything—her heart, her trust, her love… And her body. She had given a piece of her clothing to Fauxlife Solutions, the agency that was faking her death. She had torn it up, then bit her finger and smeared the blood on it. A week later, he would receive that bloody shirt. And she? She would be gone from his life forever. "Bella, why aren't you saying anything?" Isabella exhaled deeply, her voice flat. "It's just my period. I'm a little tired." "Let me take you home to rest." "Okay." On the way home, Samuel kept trying to talk to her, telling her jokes. But Isabella only responded with, "I'm a bit tired. I want to rest." With that, Samuel fell silent. When they arrived home, he walked her to the bedroom. Isabella asked, "Are you still going to the office tonight to handle work?" Samuel hummed in acknowledgment. "There are a few things left to do. I didn't finish them yesterday, so I'll need to work late tonight." "Then you should go." Isabella turned her back to him as she lay down, sending a silent signal for him to leave. Samuel stood still, not moving. He seemed to sense that something was off, but couldn't quite figure out what was wrong. Isabella suddenly had the urge to play a little prank. She turned to him and said, "Can you not go tonight?" Samuel visibly relaxed. She still depended on him, still acted a little spoiled, and still wanted him close. That meant she hadn't discovered anything. He smiled gently. "Sweetheart, I've already made plans. The executives are all waiting for me. But next week—next week, I'll make time to spend with you, okay?" "Next week?" "Yeah. Isn't next weekend our five-year anniversary? I'm planning a grand ceremony to let everyone in Herswick City know that you're the woman I love most in this life." A grand ceremony? Isabella smiled. That made it all the more exciting. "Alright, then. Go ahead." "You're such a good girl, Bella. I'm leaving, then. It's about time for the meeting, and I can't keep them waiting." Was he in a rush to not keep "them" waiting, or to not keep "her" waiting? Samuel hurried out. The tablet on the couch began vibrating again. They were in touch once more. Samuel: Are you ready? Jennifer sent a picture. This time, she was in a nurse's uniform. Of course, not the proper kind—what should be exposed was, and what shouldn't was also exposed. Samuel: I'll make sure you scream tonight. Isabella turned off the tablet and began gathering her things. Her clothes, her purse, her shoes—everything Samuel had ever given her over the years. Then, she went into the closet and continued pulling things out. Her hand paused for a moment when she touched a metal box. Inside the box were the letters Samuel had written to her—there was a thick stack of them. When they first got together, he wrote, [From today, Bella is my one true love.] On his birthday, he wrote, [My birthday wish is to spend a lifetime loving Bella and growing old together.] For Isabella's 20th birthday, he wrote, [My darling Bella is of legal age now, I can't wait to marry you.] On their wedding day, he wrote, [To the most beautiful and lovable Princess Bella, welcome to my world.] Isabella didn't care to look at the rest. She took all the letters outside and burned them, letting the fire consume them completely. The next morning, she was woken by the sound of Samuel entering the room. He sounded angry. "Bella, our wedding ring was stolen by a beggar, and he sold it at a pawn shop!" Isabella felt a pang of disappointment. How did he find it? "And he sold it for only 10,000! It's such an insult to our ring!" He came over, took her hand, and tried to put the ring back on her finger. "Now, let's return it to its rightful owner…" Isabella pulled her hand back, refusing to wear the ring again. Samuel seemed confused. "Bella, what's wrong?" "It's nothing, I just... I've gained a bit of weight recently, and the ring doesn't fit anymore." Samuel laughed. "That's okay. I'll take it to the jeweler to resize it for you." "Whatever," Isabella replied, then asked, "You didn't do anything to that beggar, did you?" Samuel came closer and hugged her. "Don't worry. I know how kind-hearted you are, Bella. You wouldn't want to see the beggar suffer. I didn't hold him accountable." "Maybe we should give him some more money. He's pitiful." "Alright, I'll give him another 10,000 later." Just then, Isabella's phone rang, and she answered it. "Hello, Ms. Jones, this is Fauxlife Solutions. We've completed the new identification documents as per your request. Are you available to pick them up?" "Sure, send me the address." "I'll send the location to your phone shortly." "By the way, will the new documents allow me to purchase flight tickets?" "Don't worry, they will be fully valid for that." "Okay, thank you." After Isabella hung up the call, Samuel suddenly seemed anxious and wrapped his arms around her. "Bella, what's this about new documents? Flight tickets? Are you leaving? Where are you going?" Chapter 5 Being held by Samuel used to feel like happiness. But now, Isabella only felt discomfort. She broke free from his embrace and stepped away from him, putting a few paces between them. Samuel seemed even more panicked and rushed after her. "Bella, do you want to go on a trip? Next week, I promise I'll clear my schedule and spend all my time with you. Don't be mad. Don't leave me, okay?" Isabella only felt a cold emptiness inside. The man who was begging her not to leave, pleading like this—was he the real Samuel? Or was it the man she had seen on the video, tangled up with Jennifer? Isabella couldn't tell anymore. But it didn't matter. Soon, she would leave him forever. Whether she knew which version of him was real, it wouldn't make any difference. She spoke flatly, "You're overthinking. Didn't you say we're having a ceremony for our anniversary?" Samuel still didn't believe it and continued to pester her. "But what about the new documents you mentioned? What documents did you get? You even asked about flight tickets." "It's for a classmate of mine. She lost her documents and couldn't buy a ticket. She needs to get new ones." "Which classmate?" "…You don't know her." "I know all your classmates." Isabella changed the subject. "Enough about me. What about you? Did you finish everything at work last night?" "Almost." Before he could finish, his phone rang again. Isabella was already used to Jennifer calling him and dragging him away. No matter what, Samuel was going to leave. So, she walked away and sat on the couch to wait. She heard Samuel's quiet reprimand. "I've told you already, don't call me when I'm at home!" On the other end of the phone, she could hear a woman crying softly. Then, Samuel sneaked a peak at Isabella guiltily. "…Fine. I'll come over now." After hanging up, Samuel hesitated before speaking again. "Bella, there's a small issue at the company that is leftover from last night... I have to take care of it." Isabella nodded immediately. "Go ahead. Work's been busy lately. I understand." Samuel hurriedly left once again. Isabella held her phone. She was waiting to see what shocking video Jennifer would send her next. As expected, Jennifer's message came quickly. This time, it was a photo—a hospital checkup form. [Jennifer Lewis, four weeks pregnant, threatened miscarriage] Jennifer: Last night at the theater was too much fun, and the baby's showing signs of miscarriage. The hospital says the baby's father needs to be there to sign the forms. Sorry, Mrs. Grant, but your husband belongs to me again today! Jennifer was pregnant?! Isabella held the phone tightly, staring at the pregnancy test results. She couldn't snap out of it. Jennifer: I forgot to tell you, for the next week, he'll still be mine. He promised to go to Hawaii with me to celebrate our little baby. Jennifer: He's leaving the room to give you a call. Be prepared, Mrs. Grant. The way she said "Mrs. Grant" was filled with a hint of provocation. Almost immediately, Isabella's phone rang. The screen displayed the word [Honey]. She took a deep breath and answered. "Bella, I'm sorry. Something came up at work, and I need to go on a business trip-" Before he could finish, Isabella interrupted him directly. "Go ahead." Samuel continued apologizing, "Bella, don't worry. I'll be back for our anniversary. And the wedding ring—the symbol of our love—I'll put it back on you during the ceremony." "Samuel, do you love me?" "Of course! You're the only woman I've ever loved in this life." Isabella replied, "If one day, you betray our love, I will leave you. Forever." Samuel laughed like he had just heard a joke. He chuckled and said, "I won't ever give you that chance." "I'm serious. I'm not joking. If I ever find out, you'll never find me again." "As long as you're Isabella Jones, it doesn't matter where you go. Even if you run to the end of the world, I'll always find you." "Really? What if I'm not Isabella Jones anymore?" Samuel's smile widened, and his voice was lazy and indulgent. "How could you not be Isabella? Alright, Bella, don't overthink things. I'll only ever love you. One week from now, I'll be back to spend time with you." Ten minutes later, the staff from Fauxlife Solutions sent her an address. When Isabella arrived, the staff handed her a stack of documents. "Ms. Jones, from today on, this is your new identity." She flipped through the papers. Her new name was Elysia Farrow. Elysia was a beautiful name associated with "parting"—she was about to leave Samuel forever. She had chosen this name for herself. From now on, there would be no more Isabella Jones. There would only be Elysia Farrow. "Ms. Jones… I mean, Ms. Farrow, we've also booked your ticket. It's for next Saturday at 10 a.m. to Frosthaven." Isabella gathered the documents and nodded, thanking the staff. "Thank you. I'll transfer the full commission to your company's account later." "Ms. Farrow, you still have a week to reconsider. If you change your mind, we won't charge you any fees." "No," Isabella stood up, her tone firm. "I won't change my mind." Chapter 6 In the following days, messages from Samuel and Jennifer kept coming in. Three days before their anniversary, Isabella checked her messages. Jennifer: The sea breeze in Hawaii is so nice! The seafood is delicious too, but he says I can't eat seafood because I'm pregnant. So, he ran really far to buy me Eastern food! Attached was a picture of a Hawaiian beach scene. There was the sand and a coconut grove. Not far away, Samuel was opening a take-out box. Samuel: There are so few choices of Eastern food here. I had to travel far to find some. Bella, what did you eat today? Isabella had spent the day with her close friends. They had a barbeque and had a great time. After all, she was about to change her identity and leave. It would be hard to see them again, so she wanted to cherish this last time. Two days before their anniversary, Isabella's phone vibrated with incoming messages. Jennifer: The baby is only a month old, and he's already studying early childhood education. He's going to be such a great first-time dad! The attached photo was of Samuel's desk, stacked high with books. Isabella skimmed the titles—Baby Prenatal Education Guide, The Wisdom of Early Education, and so on. Samuel: Bella, I spent the whole day reading books. I've learned a lot. What about you? What did you do today? Isabella had gone to the bank. She exchanged all the funds from her account into foreign currency, withdrew cash, and closed all the bank cards under the name "Isabella Jones". One day before their anniversary, Isabella glanced at her phone. Jennifer: He's so sweet and caring. He doesn't want anyone else to touch my clothes while I'm pregnant, so he's washing them himself. Look! The attached photo was of Samuel, busy in the laundry room. Samuel: I didn't realize how exhausting laundry is. I think I'll leave it to the maid from now on. I don't want my darling wife working so hard. Isabella laughed. For five years of marriage, she had washed all of his clothes by hand. And now, he was washing clothes for another woman. How ironic. Just then, the charity organization arrived. Isabella carefully cleaned and packed her old clothes, handing them all over to the charity. When she came back and saw the house nearly empty, she felt a sense of lightness she had never experienced before. It turned out that the end of love was just a moment's decision. Once she stopped loving him, she could be so carefree. - The night before their anniversary, Isabella went to the mountaintop alone. She just looked up at the vast night sky, dotted with stars, the crescent moon hanging low. It was beautiful. When she received Samuel's call, it was already late. He sounded happy. "Bella, I've just landed. I'll be home soon. I'll bring you some snacks, how about it?" "I'm not home." "It's so late. Where are you?" "On the mountaintop." "What are you doing on the mountaintop?" "Watching the stars." "Wait for me, I'll come right now…" Suddenly, there was a loud noise on the other end of the line. It sounded like a woman was speaking. Samuel snapped something in a low voice. The woman seemed persistent, and Samuel didn't say anything for a long while. Then, Isabella heard what seemed to be the sound of a kiss. Isabella sneered. "Samuel, are you still coming?" His voice was somewhat hoarse as he said, "Bella, starting tomorrow, I'll be with you all the time. I just need to go to the office tonight and wrap things up. After that, I can focus on being with you. How does that sound?" Isabella laughed. "Sounds good." "My darling wife is so understanding. Let's meet at the ceremony venue tomorrow. Oh, and don't forget the gift you got me. I'm really looking forward to the surprise you've prepared." "Samuel," Isabella called him one last time. "What is it?" "It's nothing." Nothing at all. From now on, Isabella Jones no longer existed in this world. After descending the mountain, she hailed a taxi. "Hello, sir. To the airport, please." The driver noticed she was alone and asked with concern, "Miss, where's your luggage? I can help you with it." "I don't have any luggage. Just drive." All she had was a passport and a flight ticket. Everything else was donated or burned. Anything related to the name "Isabella Jones" had already been taken care of. Thirty minutes later, the car stopped at the airport entrance. Isabella transferred all the money from her phone to the driver. The driver looked flustered. "Miss, you transferred the wrong amount. It's 30 dollars, not 30 thousand! Let me send it back to you-" "It's fine. Thank you for the ride." She got out of the car and tossed her phone into the trash. Without looking back, she walked into the terminal.	LEARN_MORE	https://www.qknymufd.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=1	Happyday	https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/	1,663	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	www.qknymufd.com	VIDEO		https://www.qknymufd.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=18282&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/478034647_2378095935875794_6525313884940092583_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nY47vG5JW8IQ7kNvgEVBDsa&_nc_oc=AdidN4xIBXoWnznI0WFId22NFmxcOg4DVhRRrI5xk4JrGm18o6axIqdBe4_Vn__KLrmp2l36nFDQ5Zh92SBSV9TA&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Ah-ETnx4FxYiJ3VMcdFzc2f&oh=00_AYBd7OQDMwfMDNPth7ihQWFb6msLfjHtGRfTekkvdoiEqQ&oe=67CBC4B0	PERSON_PROFILE	Happyday	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,756,221	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2756248}'	Yes	2025-03-03 12:18	active	2772	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	Jasper is attacking my pack. Again. When is he going to realize that he can’t defeat me? This time, he must have gotten some friends to help him, but they aren’t the scrappy fighters that my warriors and I are. Other than me, my pack is made up solely of rogues, the misfits that the other packs kicked out. Okay, yeah, some of them are dangerous and I have to keep them in line, but they’re deadly, and Jasper needs to learn that no amount of money is worth your life. When I claimed my father’s pack at eighteen, I learned just how hard he’d worked to ensure my financial stability when I took over the pack. I know a lot of the wars that he fought were to obtain better-packed lands, and easier and cheaper access to water, electricity, and other necessities. He did it all for me. And now, I am by far, the richest Alpha I’ve ever met. I'm richer than Henry and richer than Warren. You’d never know it to look at me and my pack members. We don’t dress like we’re rich, we don’t strut around like we’re high and mighty like the rich do, but my pack wants for nothing. More than anyone, the rogues understand protecting what’s theirs. It’s another reason that I took them all in. They’re fantastic fighters to have lasted in the wild on their own, which is the primary reason that I allow them into my pack. Not only that, but they also understand the value of protecting what they have. And what they have is this pack, a home, and me as their Alpha. I don’t know how Jasper gets away again, but I know that I practically ripped his leg off this time. I’d chase after him and take him down, but I have a birthday party to attend today. Connor and Kennedy Hill turned eighteen today. Connor will take over the pack from his father, Alpha Warren, who I despise with every bone in my body. I’ve refused to create an alliance with him because the person killed my father. I watched him do it. That memory is burned into my brain and is one of the worst moments of my life. My father was a great person. Alpha Harold told me that he was greedy and that he was responsible for most of the pack wars that occurred back then. But I know that he did it all for me. My father loved me. I definitely know that. My father loved me more than his own life, giving his life for mine. My mother wasn’t that way. She protected me, but once she realized that I was safe and she lost her status in the pack, she let herself wither away and die. In the end, she loved her status more than she loved me. ‘Alpha, what should we do with the bodies?’ Kier, my Beta asks. I look around, pleased that my warriors killed so many of Jasper’s pack or the pack members of those he recruited to attack me. “Pile them up and dump them outside Jasper’s pack lands,” I growl. Kier smiles. “With pleasure, Alpha.” “I have to go get ready for this awful party. Are you good?” I ask. He snorts. “That should be fun.” “An Alpha’s duties never end,” I say. “Do yourself a favor, Alpha. Find yourself a sweet little pussy to bury yourself in.” I grunt in response and head up to my room. While I don’t shy away from a person who wants me, I’ve never fucked anyone in Alpha Warren’s pack. It’s not because I care what he thinks about me. I don’t care about what Warren thinks of me. It’s her. That little witch of a person who has always seen way too much. I climb into the shower, letting my guts wash off of me as I think about her. Kennedy. I’ve watched her grow into a person who far outshines her mother. Luna Yara is beautiful, no one can deny it. But Kennedy? That girl is something to behold. I guess today she’s technically a person. I smile as I think about her. She hates it that I still call her 'pup'. I’ve long since stopped thinking of her as a pup. That ended the first time I woke up, having a wet dream about that beautiful person. Maybe because of that, I became even more antagonistic about calling her pup when I saw her. And her scent, her sweet citrus and mint scent has only gotten stronger and more mouthwatering as she’s gotten older. What hasn’t changed is her watchfulness and her insightfulness. The person sees everything, far more than she should. And for some reason, her focus seems to be almost entirely on me. I should despise it, I should be mad or irritated that she’s constantly watching me, noticing me in ways that others don’t. But from her, I almost crave it. I fall for that such a beautiful girl, a beautiful person, watches me. I’ve seen the others falling all over themselves to get to her. Kennedy, being Connor’s twin sister and the oldest of the Alpha females in Warren's pack, is much sought after by other Alphas. I know that even Henry, who has yet to find his mate, wants her. But I’ve seen her ignore their advances just to watch me. I’m not sure that she knows how often I see her watching me, but every time I’m in the room with her, I keep an eye on her, watching her watch me. And every time I see her, that golden glow around her, that beautiful light of sweet and delicate inner beauty glows brighter and brighter. Part of me hopes that she finds her mate today. The other part of me wants to take anyone who comes close to taking her from me. That part comes from Raif, my wolf. He’s been enamored with Kennedy since she was a pup. He’s snubbed every other female we’ve ever seen, and goddess forbid that I talk about taking a chosen mate. He snarls and throws such a tantrum in my head that I can’t rest, and it makes my head throb until I relent. Not that any person is dumb enough to accept me as her mate. I’m not stupid. I’m an Alpha and people want the prestige of being a Luna. But being mated to me wouldn’t be easy. I’m too dark and eventually, I drag anyone who gets too close to me into the darkness that surrounds me. It’s another reason that I hope that Kennedy finds her mate today. She deserves better than the darkness that someone like me could give her. I told her years ago that she should be afraid of me, but for some reason, that little pup never heeded my words. A part of me, deep down in my heart, is glad that she didn’t. I’m distracted as I get out of the shower, so I don’t smell his scent until he barks at me. “What’s going on, Q? You were in a battle today? Why didn’t you call me?” Henry says, glaring at me from across my room. I frown. “I’m going to have to tell my patrols to start letting me know when you enter the pack lands.” “They know I’m your brother and don’t change the subject. Your pack smells like danger and desperation. Why didn’t you call?” “Because I didn’t need you. We were fine. Jasper was after my money again. And let’s be honest, you take a lot more time to get ready for these parties than I do,” I say to my best friend and brother. Okay, he’s my only friend. He rolls his eyes at me and throws himself on the loveseat in my room. “I don’t take a long time.” I look at him, realizing that he’s taken a bit longer today than he usually does. “Did you buy all the new clothes for today? What’s the matter, Henry? Are you hoping that Kennedy is your mate?” I ask joking. I turn to go into my closet to get dressed but when he doesn’t answer me, I turn back. “Are you kidding me?” Something dark inside of me threatens to push forward. I like Henry, more than anyone in the world I like this person who is like a brother to me, but at the moment, thinking of him with Kennedy, I’m ready to rip him to shreds. “Would that be so bad, Q? She’s gorgeous, she’s smart, she’s about the sweetest person I’ve ever met… she’d make a good Luna,” he says, shrugging and looking away from me. I can tell that he’s seriously hoping that she’s his mate. Honestly, he’d be the perfect mate to her. He’s exactly the kind of person that she should end up with. But the thought of her ending up with anyone has Raif thrashing around in my head. ‘Knock it off,’ I tell my wolf. ‘I’ll take him down if he touches her.’ ‘No, you won’t. He’s my best friend. She’s nothing but a pretty pup,’ I say, but I know I don’t mean it. She’s one of the few people who can put a warm glow into my dark and angry heart. ‘Mmhmm, keep telling yourself that,’ Raif says. I notice that Henry is watching me, so I do what I always do when I don’t want others paying attention to me. I get snarky. It usually works, except her. “Who knows, maybe Connor is your mate, and you can become his Luna,” I say, chuckling as I go into the closet. “You let me down, Q. I don’t know I even bothered to come over here to get you.” “Yeah, why did you?” I ask. He looks at me. “I wasn’t sure you’d come otherwise.” Normally, he’d be right. But I can’t miss that little pup’s birthday. I even got her a present. I got one for Connor too, but his gift is money. He’s the incoming Alpha, so if he’s smart, he’ll put it toward the pack. But for Kennedy, I wanted something special. Raif insisted that I get her jewelry, preferably something with a wolf’s head that looks like him. So, I had a wolf’s head made in pewter and onyx, and I had diamonds put into his eyes since April is her birth month. I’m nervous to give it to her, but I’m pretty sure, knowing her like I do, that even if she doesn’t like it, she’ll say she does and that she’ll wear it anytime she expects to see me. I finish getting ready, wearing like someone I’ve never been, just hating to be this formal. “You sure you want to do that?” Henry asks as I roll up my sleeves. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I?” I ask him. “Luna Yara and Alpha Kennedy are going to see those marks on you. They’ll know you were fighting today.” I stop and look at my arms. He’s right, they will notice and neither person will let it go. Dammit! I roll my sleeves back down, feeling even more grumpy now than I did before. “Are you ready?” “I was waiting on you, brother,” he says, smiling and slapping me on the back as he stands. I glare at him, then we head down to his car and begin to make our way to the party. Chapter 2: Birthday Kennedy I watch as my mother prepares the person on the sofa in front of her. Sometimes I get to be in the room, helping by giving her the tools that she needs to complete her surgeries, or stitching up our pack members after she's done. But since today is my eighteenth birthday, she told me I could assist. I told her that it was the only thing that I wanted for my birthday. “When you do a Cesarean section, you have to be careful where and how you cut. You don’t want to cut too deep and risk injuring the pup and you don’t want to cut too high on the mother’s stomach because you could cut the pup,” she says, pointing to the area where she wants me to cut. Thankfully, it’s Anna who is having a baby today. It’s her fourth pup with her mate, Bennett, their oopsie baby thirteen years after the birth of their third pup. It’s why my mother suggested that she have the C-section rather than try to deliver naturally. It’s also why I’m allowed to assist. I’ve grown up around Anna and all of the nurses and doctors in the hospital. I’ve spent every possible minute of my life in this hospital. I can’t live without the medical world, feel amazing the idea of becoming a doctor just like my mother. While the others in my family were sparring and training to become strong warriors, I was here, learning everything I possibly could about medicine, anatomy, and being a surgeon. Thankfully, when my mother told Anna that assisting in surgery was the only thing I wanted for my birthday, she offered to schedule her C-section today. I was a little surprised, but since I’ve stitched up her pups before, and I’ve worked so closely with Anna, she agreed. My mother had me practice cutting on a medical dummy that she and Beta Noelle use in the hospital teaching rooms. I sliced that poor mannequin nearly to pieces I’ve practiced so many times. I take a breath and look up at Anna. Her mate is holding her hand and murmuring to her. “Focus, Kennedy,” my mother says patiently. Anna’s eyes flash to me and she winks. “You’ve got this, Kennedy.” I nod and turn back to her stomach, putting the edge of the scalpel against her stomach where my mother is pointing, and, using the pressure that I’ve practiced so many times, I make the incision. “Very good, Kennedy. Just a little further. Perfect,” she says, and I pull the scalpel away, smiling hugely as I step back to let my mother do the rest. A few minutes later, she carefully pulled the baby from Anna’s uterus and laid her on Anna’s arms. “Congratulations, on your baby boy,” she says to them. I know that Bennett is thrilled to be having a boy. Their first three children were girls. I was ready to assist my mother with closing up Anna’s stomach when she turned to me. “Your father and brother are asking about you,” she says. I look up at the clock and realize that it’s mid-afternoon. I sigh. I really don’t care about the party. The only reason I’m even partially excited is because Alpha Quirin will be here. There are a lot of other Alphas that will be here too, including Alpha Henry, who I like. But the others are just hoping to have an Alpha female for a mate. My sisters would be better options for them. They are all excited about becoming Lunas of their own packs. Me? There’s only one person for me. He just happens to be an Alpha as well. I fell for Alpha Quirin when I was six years old. There was something about him at Alpha Henry’s eighteenth birthday party that drew me to him. I’d watched him all day and then followed him outside. I don’t know why I felt safe with him that day. But I have every other time I’ve been around him since then. I don’t see him often, not nearly as often as I’d like. But I’ve noticed that he’s not as curt or abrupt with me when I approach him as he is with other people. I got my wolf, Echo, on my tenth birthday. That day at my party, she had agreed that there was something about Alpha Quirin. Maybe because he’s an older Alpha and doesn’t play the stupid games that the others play, or maybe because he refuses to let the other Alphas tease me in any way, but I’ve always seen him as a protector. Others find his quiet, glowering nature offensive, but not me. Unlike Alpha Henry, who is easygoing and has lots of friends, you have to work to get on Alpha Quirin’s good side. I’ve only known a couple of people who have earned that privilege and remained there. I count myself as one of the few. Over the years, I’ve watched as daring people have approached him during these gatherings. I also watched while he assessed them and took some to the sofa with him. I’ve tried to determine what it was about those people that made him decide to be with them and not others. I haven’t figured it out yet and maybe he hasn’t either. I’ve never seen him take the same person to the sofa more than once at these parties. If they approach him again at another party, he turns them down. My mother says the people want him because he’s a challenge. My father says they want him for his wealth. I want him because I want to get past the hard, crusty exterior that he puts up in front of others. Over the years, I’ve had glimpses of the person underneath the armor, and I want him. I want that person, the person that very few, if any, ever get to experience. ‘Kennedy, are you coming? You still have to get ready, and Dad says we can’t start the party until the birthday twins arrive. Connor won’t join the party until you do, so hurry up!’ my sister Wendy says. She’s fifteen and thrilled at the idea of seeing all of the Alphas that will be here today. ‘I’m on my way,’ I say, knowing that I need to get ready. My twin brother, Connor, is officially old enough to take over as Alpha from my father. I know my father is excited to be able to pass the torch of the pack to my brother. I also know that Connor was disappointed when he didn’t smell his mate first thing this morning. She’s not in our pack, but that doesn’t mean that she’s not in another pack. Every eligible male and female Alpha will be at our birthday party today, which has my siblings in a tizzy of excitement. It’s an important day for Connor, which makes it an important day for me. My twin is my best friend, and I won’t ruin this party for him. “Congratulations,” I say to Anna and Bennett. “Thank you. I have a gift for you even though we won’t be able to join your party today. I’ll give it to your mother to give you.” “You didn’t have to do that,” I tell her. “Of course we did. You just helped to deliver our baby, didn’t you?” Bennett asks me. I smile. “Well, thank you. I know I’ll like it,” I say. I head back to the packhouse and spend the next couple of hours getting ready for my party. When I look in the mirror, I hardly recognize myself. I chose the dress specifically because I want Alpha Quirin to see me as a person, not as the pup that he always calls me. ‘Little Pup’. Ever since that first day that I spoke to him, he’s always called me Little Pup. I would despise the name if it didn’t make me feel somewhat special. No one else gets a pet name from Alpha Quirin. The floor-length gown is covered in sequins, adding brightness to the dress. The sleeves are straps that hang off the shoulder and there’s a small train in the back that adds a softness to the overall feel of the gown. ‘Kennedy, are you ready?’ I hear Connor’s voice in my head. ‘Yes, where are you?’ “Outside your door,’ he says, and I can hear the laughter in his voice. I open the door and see my very handsome brother standing there waiting for me. He’s wearing a suit that fits him perfectly, accenting his broad shoulders and narrow waist. He will have the people at the party drooling over him. They do anyway, but today, he looks every bit the Alpha heir that he is. “Why, Alpha Connor, how very nice of you to be my escort,” I say, smiling at my twin. His tie and cummerbund are a close match to the color of my dress. We’ll look very good walking into our party together. He snaps his feet together and gives me a formal bow before extending his arm to me. “How was the surgery? Mom said you were brilliant, as always,” he says. My brother has always been my biggest supporter with my mother a close second. “Oh, it was fantastic, Connor,” I say excitedly, making him chuckle. “Good. Now remember, no matter what happens today, you will always be my twin and my best friend. I hope that we both find our mates, but if not…” “Then we keep looking,” I say, knowing how important it is for him. “Then we keep looking. But, if we’re both lucky and you end up leaving for your new home soon, never forget that I’m here for you anytime you need me.” “Thanks, Connor.” “Now we’d better go before Wendy bursts something in her excitement.” I laugh as he begins leading me down the stairs. I turn, as I hear the gasps of the people in the room, watching as my brother and I make our way down the stairs. I look around the room, not seeing Alpha Quiring and feeling a stab of disappointment that he’s not here. He was the only one I was hoping to see. The room breaks out in “Happy Birthday!” as we get to the bottom step. From there, we’re separated by the massive number of people who want to say hello and wish us happy birthday. I’m about halfway through the room of people when Echo stands up in my head. ‘Echo?’ I ask just as I hear a nearly feral snarl behind me and the scent of sandalwood floods my nose. I turn and see that the partygoers have separated, leaving a space for me to see Alpha Quirin standing across the room from me, his nose in the air as he drinks in my scent. I gasp as he opens his eyes and focuses his intense gaze on me. “Mate,” his wolf, Raif, growls. The entire room has gone quiet and almost as one, all heads turn to stare at me. I swallow hard, excitement and desire flooding my system and overwhelming me. Thankfully, Echo has no problem managing these feelings. She’s thrilled. “Mate,” she purrs. Chapter 3: Warnings Quirin When Henry and I pulled up to the packhouse, I smelled her before I even opened the door. “Quirin, where are you going?” Henry asks as I quickly leap out of the car and make my way to the packhouse. I ignore him. I have to see her. It’s all I can do to keep Raif under control as he pulls me into the packhouse. Once inside, the place is packed and I can’t see her, can’t find her. Raif snarls angrily and the party guests part like the Red Sea. There, across the room from me, is Kennedy. My mate. Raif announces it before I can stop him. Part of me is thrilled. There’s always been something about Kennedy that has drawn me in, something that has made me feel protective and even possessive at times. And now, I know why, she’s my fated mate. The other part of me knows that the words that I spoke to her all those years ago were accurate. ‘People like me are no good for little pups like you.’ I hadn’t been lying. She deserves someone like Henry, or even someone like her brother. Instead, the Moon Goddess has decided to punish her with someone like me. I should reject her, I should set her free, but I know I can’t. I’m much too selfish for that. “Mate,” she says. I know it’s her wolf who replies to Raif, but watching her sweet mouth say the word that I’ve only dared to dream that she would say to me, makes the possessiveness that I’ve held on to tightly flare inside of me. It didn’t escape me that everyone, every single person in the room, turned to look at her when I called her my mate. I’m sure they all thought she’d reject me. And maybe she will. If she’s smart, she will. ‘I refuse to accept it,’ Raif says. ‘She’s ours. I want her. I want them both.’ Raif has wanted Echo from the moment he first saw her. Of course, back then she was much too young for me or him to do anything. I’d always felt the pull to this little pup, but once she had her wolf, the pull had become even stronger. I stare at her across the room, not moving as I watch her eyes go wide. I realize that her dress brings out the color of those eyes. ‘Stop making our mate think we don’t want her,’ Raif growls before literally pushing me forward. Rather than stopping and looking like a fool, I slowly walk up to Kennedy. Some might call it a prowl, the predator hunting his prey. But since the prey looks eager to be captured, I’m not sure it’s an accurate assessment. “Happy Birthday, Little Pup,” I say to her and instantly I get the response I expected. Her lips press together but before she can come back with some smart retort, I wrap my arm around her and pull her against me, pressing my lips to hers. When I finally pull back I look at her, my mate. “We’re leaving,” I growl. “What?” she asks, frowning while still looking dazed. I like that dazed look on her face. “Alpha Quirin, it’s Kennedy’s birthday. The party has just begun. Surely you don’t intend to take her away from her party already.” I don’t have to turn to know that it’s Alpha Connor who is speaking. The person looks exactly like his father and for that alone, I despise him. But he’s Kennedy’s twin and I know that she considers him her best friend. It’s the only reason I don’t take him down for trying to keep me from taking my mate. “There are too many unmated Alphas in this room for my liking,” I growl, never looking away from my mate. “No one is stupid enough to try and take your mate from you, Q. Everyone saw that the two of you are mates. Let her have her birthday party.” That comes from Henry. He’s come up behind me and is speaking softly. “Of course they won’t. I would take him down anyone who touches her,” I growl loudly, making sure every Alpha here knows that she’s mine. “Alpha Quirin.” This time it’s the sweet voice of Luna Yara. She, like Henry, is one of the few people in this world that I would never ignore. “We worked very hard to have a nice party for our twins. Would you please reconsider your need to take Kennedy from us so soon?” I realize that, through all of this, my mate hasn’t said a word. “What do you want, Kennedy?” I see the instant happiness that I used her name, rather than calling her Little Pup. “I want to be with you,” she says and it’s like she’s turned her beacon of light on me, pushing away all my darkness. Such is the power that this little wolf, barely an adult, has over me. “We should stay and celebrate you. But we’re leaving today,” I tell her. “Okay.” “Okay,” I say, finally pulling my eyes away from her. I turn to the room and see that everyone is staring at us. “Well, is this a party or what?” I growl. The music starts again and I move to stand behind my mate, glaring at any unmarked male who even looks this way. Others come up to wish my mate happy birthday, but they quickly move away. “Alpha Quirin, it is customary in this pack that the first dance on a birthday goes to the mother or father of the birthday boy or girl. I’m assuming, since you are well aware of this tradition, that you have no problem with me dancing with my daughter,” Alpha Warren says. His hand is already extended to Kennedy, and I see that Connor and Luna Yara are also about to step out onto the dance floor. They’re just waiting for me. Kennedy looks up at me as if it’s my decision. I guess everyone here knows that I have no problem fighting them if I don’t like what’s going on. “It’s tradition, right?” I ask her. “Right,” she says and turns to me, taking my hand. “Don’t disappear on me.” “I’m not going anywhere,” I say. It's meant as a threat but rather than the fear that it should cause in her, I get her mega-watt smile. That smile has always fascinated me. How can one person be so happy? I watch as her father leads her onto the dance floor and the two of them begin to move around the dance floor, easily and gracefully. I’m content to watch her gliding across the floor, but my best friend and brother have other plans. “Stop, Q.” “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I say obstinately. “Of course you do. You’re not stupid. Stopping ruining this day for her.” “I’m not ruining anything for her. I asked what she wanted, and she said she wanted to be with me. I have no intention of letting any of these lecherous people get close to what’s mine.” “Do you count me as one of those lecherous people?” he growls, but I hear the hurt behind it. I turn and look at him. “I know you wanted her. But she’s mine. Maybe I don’t deserve her, but I can’t let her go. If you can respect that, then we’re good. If you can’t, then we have a problem.” He turns and looks at me. “That will very much depend on how you treat her, Quirin. If you mistreat her…” “Then what, Henry?” I ask. “Let’s not find out, okay? And for the record, I’m insulted that you would think that wouldn’t respect the mate bond. Anyone’s mate bond,” he says, walking out onto the dance floor and asking my mate to dance. I see Kennedy look over at me as if once again questioning if it’s okay for her to dance with someone else. Am I that overbearing? Probably. “What are you doing, Quirin?” “About what, Luna Farrah,” I say sighing. There are maybe five people in this world that I care about. Four of them have approached me today. Well, technically, I approached Kennedy, but the other three, Henry, Luna Yara, and now Luna Farrah, have approached me on Kennedy’s behalf. I’m wondering when Alpha Harold will approach me. “This is her day, Quirin,” she says. I’m not surprised that the massive aura that I’m pushing out to keep people away isn’t keeping Luna Farrah away. It never did. “And I’m letting her have it,” I quip. “Letting her. What an interesting way to phrase it. How kind of you to LET her have her birthday party,” she growls softly. I sigh. “You know I hate these things.” “And I know that if you like someone, that it doesn’t matter what YOU want, Quirin. And if you can’t like that girl the way that she deserves, then reject her. It will make her feel bad now, but she’ll thank you later.” “She’s mine,” I growl, low enough that no one else will overhear. “Then make sure you treat her like that means something, Quirin. She’s a sweet girl, smart and loving. If you intend to stay mated to her, then don’t you dare take that away from her.” She walks off just as Alpha Harold walks up to Kennedy. He looks over at me and it’s obvious that he’s daring me to question his intentions with my mate. I don’t. He has his own mate and I lived with them long enough to know that he loves Luna Farrah with all of his heart. What no one else seems to realize is that I like Kennedy with all of my heart. I just don’t show it the way that others do. Chapter 4: Birthday Party Kennedy Every time someone asks me to dance, I take the opportunity to look over at Quirin. First, I was surprised by his possessiveness of me and I’m afraid to do something that will make him think that I don’t want him. I do want him. I always have. But second, I’m afraid he’ll run. It’s not that he’s a fearful person, well at least not usually. But I’ve been watching my mate for years and I know that when it comes to emotions, he’s not very good at handling them. “Luna Kennedy, how do you feel about being mated to my adopted son,” Alpha Harold asks as we dance. “I’m very happy about it, Alpha,” I tell him truthfully. “Hmmm, not many people would say that. My son isn’t an easy person to get close to.” “I’ve never found it that difficult.” “No, I guess you haven’t. Have you ever been to his pack, Luna?” I like that he keeps calling me Luna. Until Quirin called me mate, I was an Alpha, but now, being a Luna means that I’ve found the person I like. I can’t wait until his mark is on my neck and mine is on his so I can show everyone that he is mine. “No, I haven’t, Alpha. You have though, right?” “Yes. I’ll warn you, Kennedy, Quirin’s pack is different. His pack is made up of previous rogues, scrappy individuals who are used to fighting for what they have and what they want. You’re a strong person, Kennedy. It will take a strong person to make her way in a pack like that.” “I’ll do my very best, Alpha,” I tell him. “I’m sure you will,” he says just before his eyes shift to look over my head. A moment later I feel heat at my back and smell his sandalwood scent. “Are you going to let me dance with my mate, father?” “I was just warming her up for you, Quirin. Luna Kennedy, I do hope to see you soon.” “Thank you, Alpha,” I say to him and then turn to my mate. He looks at me for a moment, his eyebrow going up in the arrogant way that he has. Personally, I’ve always found it extremely incredible. “I didn’t know you danced, Alpha Quirin,” I say as he takes me in his arms. “I’ve never had anyone I was interested in dancing with before, Little Pup,” he says. I ignore the ‘pup’ part and revel in the thought that he wants to dance with me. He begins to expertly move me around the floor. “Where did you learn to dance like this, Alpha?” I ask him. He looks at me. “Quirin, Kennedy. If we’re going to be mated, we should be more familiar, don’t you think?” I smile at him and even though he doesn’t smile, I watch his eyes soften. “Where did you learn to dance, Quirin?” “My mother, mostly. My father said that Alphas needed to know how to dance so we could play the mating game, searching for our mate, finding her, wooing her, all of that.” “Since you’ve searched for and found me, is this a game to you?” I ask him. “Or are you wooing me?” “I was never good at playing games, Little Pup. I am who I am. I don’t have time for frivolous things like playing games,” he says and there’s something in his tone, something that makes me think he’s trying to warn me off of him. It won’t work. “So, you’re wooing me then?” I ask. He looks down at me and the intense look in his eyes takes my breath away. “I’m going to make you mine today, Kennedy. There will be no going back, no second chances. After today, you will be mine forever. You will belong to me. You should think about that before we leave here today. Because once my mark is on you, I will never allow you to leave me.” “Well, once my mark is on you, I’ll never allow you to leave me either. So perhaps you should be the one thinking about things before we leave today,” I say indignantly, my tone expressing my aggravation with his words. I’m rewarded with one of his rare smiles. “I’ve done nothing BUT think about it since Raif called you our mate.” “You’re questioning if you want me as a mate?” I ask quietly. His face becomes more serious. “Do you remember what I said to you that day in the garden on Henry’s eighteenth birthday?” “You said people like you are no good for little pups like me. But I disagree.” I can see the surprise on his face. I’m not sure if it’s because I remembered or because I disagree with him. “And do you remember what you said to me after that?” he asks. “I said I’m not afraid of you,” I remember that day as if it were yesterday. I’ve relived it a thousand times in my mind and in my dreams. “And you never have been, have you, Little Pup?” “No.” “Why is that? Others are terrified of me. Most people won’t even come close enough to speak to me. But not you. Never you. You always made a point of coming over to talk to me, didn’t you?” “You don’t scare me. You never did,” I tell him honestly. I’m not sure what he would have said, but at that moment, my father began tapping a glass. He calls Connor and me to the front of the room, wishing us a happy birthday and announcing my brother’s Alpha ceremony in one week. “Alpha Quirin, I do hope that you and Kennedy will be here to see her twin take his place as Alpha of the pack,” my father says. I know of the animosity between my father and my mate. It’s been there all of my life, and I know why the animosity is there. The only difference is the perspective of the person telling the story. I see Quirin ready to decline, but I refuse to miss such a momentous occasion for my brother. “Of course, we’ll be here, Father,” I say before Quirin can decline. “Excellent,” he says, not giving Quirin a chance to overrule people now, your mother and I have gifts for the two of you.” He turns and my mother joins him, handing him a box before coming to me and handing me a box. “Oh Mother, you didn’t have to,” I say. “You’re my daughter. And now, it feels even more important since you’re going to be leaving and starting your own life,” she says, with tears in her eyes. I hug her, long enough that I hear awkward laughs from the others gathered around. I’m sure it’s about my brother’s watch. I’ve seen it already and I know it cost a fortune. It’s a rare, very expensive watch that my father felt my brother should have. “Thank you, father. Thank you, Mother,” he says, putting the watch on. “Your turn, Kennedy,” my father says. I smile, looking over at Quirin. I see something like regret on his face, but I’m not sure why he’d be regretful of whatever my parents got me. I open the box and it’s a gorgeous diamond necklace. “Oh, it’s so beautiful!” I say. “Let me put it on you,” my mother says. “I knew it would go perfectly with your dress,” she says. When it’s clasped, I turn and hug her. “Thank you!” Then I go to my father and hug him as well. “Thank you!” “Of course. Let’s have some cake!” he says, tucking me against his side as he announces cake to the room. “Listen, Kennedy. Before you leave, I wanted to tell you … “ my father begins. “Kennedy, let’s go have some cake and then we need to think about leaving,” Quirin says, coming up behind me. I can feel the tension between the two people, and I can also tell that my father doesn’t want to let me go. He doesn’t trust Quirin to take care of me. I pull away from my father. There is no choice for me. Quirin has always been the person I’ve wanted. He is my mate. I’m an Alpha wolf and I like a challenge just like any Alpha. I know that things between me and Quirin won’t always be easy, but I know that there is no one else for me. “Yes, Quirin, let’s go get some cake.” I take his hand and lead him away from my parents. It’s only about an hour later when Quirin tells me that I need to go pack my things. “Since we’re apparently coming back in a week, just bring what you need for now. I’ll make plans to get a truck and we can bring everything else back next week when we’re here.” “Okay,” I say, starting to get nervous. “I won’t take too long.” I find my mother and ask her to help me, before heading upstairs to pack up my life. I’m ready to move and leave this pack and my family behind me, ready to start my new life with Quirin, wherever that may lead.	LEARN_MORE	https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=18347&u	New world publications	https://www.facebook.com/100090352943774/	3,809	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	befant.com	IMAGE		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=18347&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/478130715_1156941082836266_1252823949334515431_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Xcayo6S9m_YQ7kNvgEuRZ1S&_nc_oc=AdiHiUjQ2oKtLeQGIuBWoyZuAE9vG7wQUBgvXMSO6vxBYNViMrvdm0hZh0rW5qOkN8gRjbqch2jVid9AKVg0ys6W&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Ah-ETnx4FxYiJ3VMcdFzc2f&oh=00_AYAd-qeYRqsL7ONY5zqk5DtFG3i-QDZvCbdV6JxuWcSL5w&oe=67CBC808	PERSON_PROFILE	New world publications	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,756,210	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2756248}'	Yes	2025-03-03 12:18	active	2772	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	Jasper is attacking my pack. Again. When is he going to realize that he can’t defeat me? This time, he must have gotten some friends to help him, but they aren’t the scrappy fighters that my warriors and I are. Other than me, my pack is made up solely of rogues, the misfits that the other packs kicked out. Okay, yeah, some of them are dangerous and I have to keep them in line, but they’re deadly, and Jasper needs to learn that no amount of money is worth your life. When I claimed my father’s pack at eighteen, I learned just how hard he’d worked to ensure my financial stability when I took over the pack. I know a lot of the wars that he fought were to obtain better-packed lands, and easier and cheaper access to water, electricity, and other necessities. He did it all for me. And now, I am by far, the richest Alpha I’ve ever met. I'm richer than Henry and richer than Warren. You’d never know it to look at me and my pack members. We don’t dress like we’re rich, we don’t strut around like we’re high and mighty like the rich do, but my pack wants for nothing. More than anyone, the rogues understand protecting what’s theirs. It’s another reason that I took them all in. They’re fantastic fighters to have lasted in the wild on their own, which is the primary reason that I allow them into my pack. Not only that, but they also understand the value of protecting what they have. And what they have is this pack, a home, and me as their Alpha. I don’t know how Jasper gets away again, but I know that I practically ripped his leg off this time. I’d chase after him and take him down, but I have a birthday party to attend today. Connor and Kennedy Hill turned eighteen today. Connor will take over the pack from his father, Alpha Warren, who I despise with every bone in my body. I’ve refused to create an alliance with him because the person killed my father. I watched him do it. That memory is burned into my brain and is one of the worst moments of my life. My father was a great person. Alpha Harold told me that he was greedy and that he was responsible for most of the pack wars that occurred back then. But I know that he did it all for me. My father loved me. I definitely know that. My father loved me more than his own life, giving his life for mine. My mother wasn’t that way. She protected me, but once she realized that I was safe and she lost her status in the pack, she let herself wither away and die. In the end, she loved her status more than she loved me. ‘Alpha, what should we do with the bodies?’ Kier, my Beta asks. I look around, pleased that my warriors killed so many of Jasper’s pack or the pack members of those he recruited to attack me. “Pile them up and dump them outside Jasper’s pack lands,” I growl. Kier smiles. “With pleasure, Alpha.” “I have to go get ready for this awful party. Are you good?” I ask. He snorts. “That should be fun.” “An Alpha’s duties never end,” I say. “Do yourself a favor, Alpha. Find yourself a sweet little pussy to bury yourself in.” I grunt in response and head up to my room. While I don’t shy away from a person who wants me, I’ve never fucked anyone in Alpha Warren’s pack. It’s not because I care what he thinks about me. I don’t care about what Warren thinks of me. It’s her. That little witch of a person who has always seen way too much. I climb into the shower, letting my guts wash off of me as I think about her. Kennedy. I’ve watched her grow into a person who far outshines her mother. Luna Yara is beautiful, no one can deny it. But Kennedy? That girl is something to behold. I guess today she’s technically a person. I smile as I think about her. She hates it that I still call her 'pup'. I’ve long since stopped thinking of her as a pup. That ended the first time I woke up, having a wet dream about that beautiful person. Maybe because of that, I became even more antagonistic about calling her pup when I saw her. And her scent, her sweet citrus and mint scent has only gotten stronger and more mouthwatering as she’s gotten older. What hasn’t changed is her watchfulness and her insightfulness. The person sees everything, far more than she should. And for some reason, her focus seems to be almost entirely on me. I should despise it, I should be mad or irritated that she’s constantly watching me, noticing me in ways that others don’t. But from her, I almost crave it. I fall for that such a beautiful girl, a beautiful person, watches me. I’ve seen the others falling all over themselves to get to her. Kennedy, being Connor’s twin sister and the oldest of the Alpha females in Warren's pack, is much sought after by other Alphas. I know that even Henry, who has yet to find his mate, wants her. But I’ve seen her ignore their advances just to watch me. I’m not sure that she knows how often I see her watching me, but every time I’m in the room with her, I keep an eye on her, watching her watch me. And every time I see her, that golden glow around her, that beautiful light of sweet and delicate inner beauty glows brighter and brighter. Part of me hopes that she finds her mate today. The other part of me wants to take anyone who comes close to taking her from me. That part comes from Raif, my wolf. He’s been enamored with Kennedy since she was a pup. He’s snubbed every other female we’ve ever seen, and goddess forbid that I talk about taking a chosen mate. He snarls and throws such a tantrum in my head that I can’t rest, and it makes my head throb until I relent. Not that any person is dumb enough to accept me as her mate. I’m not stupid. I’m an Alpha and people want the prestige of being a Luna. But being mated to me wouldn’t be easy. I’m too dark and eventually, I drag anyone who gets too close to me into the darkness that surrounds me. It’s another reason that I hope that Kennedy finds her mate today. She deserves better than the darkness that someone like me could give her. I told her years ago that she should be afraid of me, but for some reason, that little pup never heeded my words. A part of me, deep down in my heart, is glad that she didn’t. I’m distracted as I get out of the shower, so I don’t smell his scent until he barks at me. “What’s going on, Q? You were in a battle today? Why didn’t you call me?” Henry says, glaring at me from across my room. I frown. “I’m going to have to tell my patrols to start letting me know when you enter the pack lands.” “They know I’m your brother and don’t change the subject. Your pack smells like danger and desperation. Why didn’t you call?” “Because I didn’t need you. We were fine. Jasper was after my money again. And let’s be honest, you take a lot more time to get ready for these parties than I do,” I say to my best friend and brother. Okay, he’s my only friend. He rolls his eyes at me and throws himself on the loveseat in my room. “I don’t take a long time.” I look at him, realizing that he’s taken a bit longer today than he usually does. “Did you buy all the new clothes for today? What’s the matter, Henry? Are you hoping that Kennedy is your mate?” I ask joking. I turn to go into my closet to get dressed but when he doesn’t answer me, I turn back. “Are you kidding me?” Something dark inside of me threatens to push forward. I like Henry, more than anyone in the world I like this person who is like a brother to me, but at the moment, thinking of him with Kennedy, I’m ready to rip him to shreds. “Would that be so bad, Q? She’s gorgeous, she’s smart, she’s about the sweetest person I’ve ever met… she’d make a good Luna,” he says, shrugging and looking away from me. I can tell that he’s seriously hoping that she’s his mate. Honestly, he’d be the perfect mate to her. He’s exactly the kind of person that she should end up with. But the thought of her ending up with anyone has Raif thrashing around in my head. ‘Knock it off,’ I tell my wolf. ‘I’ll take him down if he touches her.’ ‘No, you won’t. He’s my best friend. She’s nothing but a pretty pup,’ I say, but I know I don’t mean it. She’s one of the few people who can put a warm glow into my dark and angry heart. ‘Mmhmm, keep telling yourself that,’ Raif says. I notice that Henry is watching me, so I do what I always do when I don’t want others paying attention to me. I get snarky. It usually works, except her. “Who knows, maybe Connor is your mate, and you can become his Luna,” I say, chuckling as I go into the closet. “You let me down, Q. I don’t know I even bothered to come over here to get you.” “Yeah, why did you?” I ask. He looks at me. “I wasn’t sure you’d come otherwise.” Normally, he’d be right. But I can’t miss that little pup’s birthday. I even got her a present. I got one for Connor too, but his gift is money. He’s the incoming Alpha, so if he’s smart, he’ll put it toward the pack. But for Kennedy, I wanted something special. Raif insisted that I get her jewelry, preferably something with a wolf’s head that looks like him. So, I had a wolf’s head made in pewter and onyx, and I had diamonds put into his eyes since April is her birth month. I’m nervous to give it to her, but I’m pretty sure, knowing her like I do, that even if she doesn’t like it, she’ll say she does and that she’ll wear it anytime she expects to see me. I finish getting ready, wearing like someone I’ve never been, just hating to be this formal. “You sure you want to do that?” Henry asks as I roll up my sleeves. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I?” I ask him. “Luna Yara and Alpha Kennedy are going to see those marks on you. They’ll know you were fighting today.” I stop and look at my arms. He’s right, they will notice and neither person will let it go. Dammit! I roll my sleeves back down, feeling even more grumpy now than I did before. “Are you ready?” “I was waiting on you, brother,” he says, smiling and slapping me on the back as he stands. I glare at him, then we head down to his car and begin to make our way to the party. Chapter 2: Birthday Kennedy I watch as my mother prepares the person on the sofa in front of her. Sometimes I get to be in the room, helping by giving her the tools that she needs to complete her surgeries, or stitching up our pack members after she's done. But since today is my eighteenth birthday, she told me I could assist. I told her that it was the only thing that I wanted for my birthday. “When you do a Cesarean section, you have to be careful where and how you cut. You don’t want to cut too deep and risk injuring the pup and you don’t want to cut too high on the mother’s stomach because you could cut the pup,” she says, pointing to the area where she wants me to cut. Thankfully, it’s Anna who is having a baby today. It’s her fourth pup with her mate, Bennett, their oopsie baby thirteen years after the birth of their third pup. It’s why my mother suggested that she have the C-section rather than try to deliver naturally. It’s also why I’m allowed to assist. I’ve grown up around Anna and all of the nurses and doctors in the hospital. I’ve spent every possible minute of my life in this hospital. I can’t live without the medical world, feel amazing the idea of becoming a doctor just like my mother. While the others in my family were sparring and training to become strong warriors, I was here, learning everything I possibly could about medicine, anatomy, and being a surgeon. Thankfully, when my mother told Anna that assisting in surgery was the only thing I wanted for my birthday, she offered to schedule her C-section today. I was a little surprised, but since I’ve stitched up her pups before, and I’ve worked so closely with Anna, she agreed. My mother had me practice cutting on a medical dummy that she and Beta Noelle use in the hospital teaching rooms. I sliced that poor mannequin nearly to pieces I’ve practiced so many times. I take a breath and look up at Anna. Her mate is holding her hand and murmuring to her. “Focus, Kennedy,” my mother says patiently. Anna’s eyes flash to me and she winks. “You’ve got this, Kennedy.” I nod and turn back to her stomach, putting the edge of the scalpel against her stomach where my mother is pointing, and, using the pressure that I’ve practiced so many times, I make the incision. “Very good, Kennedy. Just a little further. Perfect,” she says, and I pull the scalpel away, smiling hugely as I step back to let my mother do the rest. A few minutes later, she carefully pulled the baby from Anna’s uterus and laid her on Anna’s arms. “Congratulations, on your baby boy,” she says to them. I know that Bennett is thrilled to be having a boy. Their first three children were girls. I was ready to assist my mother with closing up Anna’s stomach when she turned to me. “Your father and brother are asking about you,” she says. I look up at the clock and realize that it’s mid-afternoon. I sigh. I really don’t care about the party. The only reason I’m even partially excited is because Alpha Quirin will be here. There are a lot of other Alphas that will be here too, including Alpha Henry, who I like. But the others are just hoping to have an Alpha female for a mate. My sisters would be better options for them. They are all excited about becoming Lunas of their own packs. Me? There’s only one person for me. He just happens to be an Alpha as well. I fell for Alpha Quirin when I was six years old. There was something about him at Alpha Henry’s eighteenth birthday party that drew me to him. I’d watched him all day and then followed him outside. I don’t know why I felt safe with him that day. But I have every other time I’ve been around him since then. I don’t see him often, not nearly as often as I’d like. But I’ve noticed that he’s not as curt or abrupt with me when I approach him as he is with other people. I got my wolf, Echo, on my tenth birthday. That day at my party, she had agreed that there was something about Alpha Quirin. Maybe because he’s an older Alpha and doesn’t play the stupid games that the others play, or maybe because he refuses to let the other Alphas tease me in any way, but I’ve always seen him as a protector. Others find his quiet, glowering nature offensive, but not me. Unlike Alpha Henry, who is easygoing and has lots of friends, you have to work to get on Alpha Quirin’s good side. I’ve only known a couple of people who have earned that privilege and remained there. I count myself as one of the few. Over the years, I’ve watched as daring people have approached him during these gatherings. I also watched while he assessed them and took some to the sofa with him. I’ve tried to determine what it was about those people that made him decide to be with them and not others. I haven’t figured it out yet and maybe he hasn’t either. I’ve never seen him take the same person to the sofa more than once at these parties. If they approach him again at another party, he turns them down. My mother says the people want him because he’s a challenge. My father says they want him for his wealth. I want him because I want to get past the hard, crusty exterior that he puts up in front of others. Over the years, I’ve had glimpses of the person underneath the armor, and I want him. I want that person, the person that very few, if any, ever get to experience. ‘Kennedy, are you coming? You still have to get ready, and Dad says we can’t start the party until the birthday twins arrive. Connor won’t join the party until you do, so hurry up!’ my sister Wendy says. She’s fifteen and thrilled at the idea of seeing all of the Alphas that will be here today. ‘I’m on my way,’ I say, knowing that I need to get ready. My twin brother, Connor, is officially old enough to take over as Alpha from my father. I know my father is excited to be able to pass the torch of the pack to my brother. I also know that Connor was disappointed when he didn’t smell his mate first thing this morning. She’s not in our pack, but that doesn’t mean that she’s not in another pack. Every eligible male and female Alpha will be at our birthday party today, which has my siblings in a tizzy of excitement. It’s an important day for Connor, which makes it an important day for me. My twin is my best friend, and I won’t ruin this party for him. “Congratulations,” I say to Anna and Bennett. “Thank you. I have a gift for you even though we won’t be able to join your party today. I’ll give it to your mother to give you.” “You didn’t have to do that,” I tell her. “Of course we did. You just helped to deliver our baby, didn’t you?” Bennett asks me. I smile. “Well, thank you. I know I’ll like it,” I say. I head back to the packhouse and spend the next couple of hours getting ready for my party. When I look in the mirror, I hardly recognize myself. I chose the dress specifically because I want Alpha Quirin to see me as a person, not as the pup that he always calls me. ‘Little Pup’. Ever since that first day that I spoke to him, he’s always called me Little Pup. I would despise the name if it didn’t make me feel somewhat special. No one else gets a pet name from Alpha Quirin. The floor-length gown is covered in sequins, adding brightness to the dress. The sleeves are straps that hang off the shoulder and there’s a small train in the back that adds a softness to the overall feel of the gown. ‘Kennedy, are you ready?’ I hear Connor’s voice in my head. ‘Yes, where are you?’ “Outside your door,’ he says, and I can hear the laughter in his voice. I open the door and see my very handsome brother standing there waiting for me. He’s wearing a suit that fits him perfectly, accenting his broad shoulders and narrow waist. He will have the people at the party drooling over him. They do anyway, but today, he looks every bit the Alpha heir that he is. “Why, Alpha Connor, how very nice of you to be my escort,” I say, smiling at my twin. His tie and cummerbund are a close match to the color of my dress. We’ll look very good walking into our party together. He snaps his feet together and gives me a formal bow before extending his arm to me. “How was the surgery? Mom said you were brilliant, as always,” he says. My brother has always been my biggest supporter with my mother a close second. “Oh, it was fantastic, Connor,” I say excitedly, making him chuckle. “Good. Now remember, no matter what happens today, you will always be my twin and my best friend. I hope that we both find our mates, but if not…” “Then we keep looking,” I say, knowing how important it is for him. “Then we keep looking. But, if we’re both lucky and you end up leaving for your new home soon, never forget that I’m here for you anytime you need me.” “Thanks, Connor.” “Now we’d better go before Wendy bursts something in her excitement.” I laugh as he begins leading me down the stairs. I turn, as I hear the gasps of the people in the room, watching as my brother and I make our way down the stairs. I look around the room, not seeing Alpha Quiring and feeling a stab of disappointment that he’s not here. He was the only one I was hoping to see. The room breaks out in “Happy Birthday!” as we get to the bottom step. From there, we’re separated by the massive number of people who want to say hello and wish us happy birthday. I’m about halfway through the room of people when Echo stands up in my head. ‘Echo?’ I ask just as I hear a nearly feral snarl behind me and the scent of sandalwood floods my nose. I turn and see that the partygoers have separated, leaving a space for me to see Alpha Quirin standing across the room from me, his nose in the air as he drinks in my scent. I gasp as he opens his eyes and focuses his intense gaze on me. “Mate,” his wolf, Raif, growls. The entire room has gone quiet and almost as one, all heads turn to stare at me. I swallow hard, excitement and desire flooding my system and overwhelming me. Thankfully, Echo has no problem managing these feelings. She’s thrilled. “Mate,” she purrs. Chapter 3: Warnings Quirin When Henry and I pulled up to the packhouse, I smelled her before I even opened the door. “Quirin, where are you going?” Henry asks as I quickly leap out of the car and make my way to the packhouse. I ignore him. I have to see her. It’s all I can do to keep Raif under control as he pulls me into the packhouse. Once inside, the place is packed and I can’t see her, can’t find her. Raif snarls angrily and the party guests part like the Red Sea. There, across the room from me, is Kennedy. My mate. Raif announces it before I can stop him. Part of me is thrilled. There’s always been something about Kennedy that has drawn me in, something that has made me feel protective and even possessive at times. And now, I know why, she’s my fated mate. The other part of me knows that the words that I spoke to her all those years ago were accurate. ‘People like me are no good for little pups like you.’ I hadn’t been lying. She deserves someone like Henry, or even someone like her brother. Instead, the Moon Goddess has decided to punish her with someone like me. I should reject her, I should set her free, but I know I can’t. I’m much too selfish for that. “Mate,” she says. I know it’s her wolf who replies to Raif, but watching her sweet mouth say the word that I’ve only dared to dream that she would say to me, makes the possessiveness that I’ve held on to tightly flare inside of me. It didn’t escape me that everyone, every single person in the room, turned to look at her when I called her my mate. I’m sure they all thought she’d reject me. And maybe she will. If she’s smart, she will. ‘I refuse to accept it,’ Raif says. ‘She’s ours. I want her. I want them both.’ Raif has wanted Echo from the moment he first saw her. Of course, back then she was much too young for me or him to do anything. I’d always felt the pull to this little pup, but once she had her wolf, the pull had become even stronger. I stare at her across the room, not moving as I watch her eyes go wide. I realize that her dress brings out the color of those eyes. ‘Stop making our mate think we don’t want her,’ Raif growls before literally pushing me forward. Rather than stopping and looking like a fool, I slowly walk up to Kennedy. Some might call it a prowl, the predator hunting his prey. But since the prey looks eager to be captured, I’m not sure it’s an accurate assessment. “Happy Birthday, Little Pup,” I say to her and instantly I get the response I expected. Her lips press together but before she can come back with some smart retort, I wrap my arm around her and pull her against me, pressing my lips to hers. When I finally pull back I look at her, my mate. “We’re leaving,” I growl. “What?” she asks, frowning while still looking dazed. I like that dazed look on her face. “Alpha Quirin, it’s Kennedy’s birthday. The party has just begun. Surely you don’t intend to take her away from her party already.” I don’t have to turn to know that it’s Alpha Connor who is speaking. The person looks exactly like his father and for that alone, I despise him. But he’s Kennedy’s twin and I know that she considers him her best friend. It’s the only reason I don’t take him down for trying to keep me from taking my mate. “There are too many unmated Alphas in this room for my liking,” I growl, never looking away from my mate. “No one is stupid enough to try and take your mate from you, Q. Everyone saw that the two of you are mates. Let her have her birthday party.” That comes from Henry. He’s come up behind me and is speaking softly. “Of course they won’t. I would take him down anyone who touches her,” I growl loudly, making sure every Alpha here knows that she’s mine. “Alpha Quirin.” This time it’s the sweet voice of Luna Yara. She, like Henry, is one of the few people in this world that I would never ignore. “We worked very hard to have a nice party for our twins. Would you please reconsider your need to take Kennedy from us so soon?” I realize that, through all of this, my mate hasn’t said a word. “What do you want, Kennedy?” I see the instant happiness that I used her name, rather than calling her Little Pup. “I want to be with you,” she says and it’s like she’s turned her beacon of light on me, pushing away all my darkness. Such is the power that this little wolf, barely an adult, has over me. “We should stay and celebrate you. But we’re leaving today,” I tell her. “Okay.” “Okay,” I say, finally pulling my eyes away from her. I turn to the room and see that everyone is staring at us. “Well, is this a party or what?” I growl. The music starts again and I move to stand behind my mate, glaring at any unmarked male who even looks this way. Others come up to wish my mate happy birthday, but they quickly move away. “Alpha Quirin, it is customary in this pack that the first dance on a birthday goes to the mother or father of the birthday boy or girl. I’m assuming, since you are well aware of this tradition, that you have no problem with me dancing with my daughter,” Alpha Warren says. His hand is already extended to Kennedy, and I see that Connor and Luna Yara are also about to step out onto the dance floor. They’re just waiting for me. Kennedy looks up at me as if it’s my decision. I guess everyone here knows that I have no problem fighting them if I don’t like what’s going on. “It’s tradition, right?” I ask her. “Right,” she says and turns to me, taking my hand. “Don’t disappear on me.” “I’m not going anywhere,” I say. It's meant as a threat but rather than the fear that it should cause in her, I get her mega-watt smile. That smile has always fascinated me. How can one person be so happy? I watch as her father leads her onto the dance floor and the two of them begin to move around the dance floor, easily and gracefully. I’m content to watch her gliding across the floor, but my best friend and brother have other plans. “Stop, Q.” “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I say obstinately. “Of course you do. You’re not stupid. Stopping ruining this day for her.” “I’m not ruining anything for her. I asked what she wanted, and she said she wanted to be with me. I have no intention of letting any of these lecherous people get close to what’s mine.” “Do you count me as one of those lecherous people?” he growls, but I hear the hurt behind it. I turn and look at him. “I know you wanted her. But she’s mine. Maybe I don’t deserve her, but I can’t let her go. If you can respect that, then we’re good. If you can’t, then we have a problem.” He turns and looks at me. “That will very much depend on how you treat her, Quirin. If you mistreat her…” “Then what, Henry?” I ask. “Let’s not find out, okay? And for the record, I’m insulted that you would think that wouldn’t respect the mate bond. Anyone’s mate bond,” he says, walking out onto the dance floor and asking my mate to dance. I see Kennedy look over at me as if once again questioning if it’s okay for her to dance with someone else. Am I that overbearing? Probably. “What are you doing, Quirin?” “About what, Luna Farrah,” I say sighing. There are maybe five people in this world that I care about. Four of them have approached me today. Well, technically, I approached Kennedy, but the other three, Henry, Luna Yara, and now Luna Farrah, have approached me on Kennedy’s behalf. I’m wondering when Alpha Harold will approach me. “This is her day, Quirin,” she says. I’m not surprised that the massive aura that I’m pushing out to keep people away isn’t keeping Luna Farrah away. It never did. “And I’m letting her have it,” I quip. “Letting her. What an interesting way to phrase it. How kind of you to LET her have her birthday party,” she growls softly. I sigh. “You know I hate these things.” “And I know that if you like someone, that it doesn’t matter what YOU want, Quirin. And if you can’t like that girl the way that she deserves, then reject her. It will make her feel bad now, but she’ll thank you later.” “She’s mine,” I growl, low enough that no one else will overhear. “Then make sure you treat her like that means something, Quirin. She’s a sweet girl, smart and loving. If you intend to stay mated to her, then don’t you dare take that away from her.” She walks off just as Alpha Harold walks up to Kennedy. He looks over at me and it’s obvious that he’s daring me to question his intentions with my mate. I don’t. He has his own mate and I lived with them long enough to know that he loves Luna Farrah with all of his heart. What no one else seems to realize is that I like Kennedy with all of my heart. I just don’t show it the way that others do. Chapter 4: Birthday Party Kennedy Every time someone asks me to dance, I take the opportunity to look over at Quirin. First, I was surprised by his possessiveness of me and I’m afraid to do something that will make him think that I don’t want him. I do want him. I always have. But second, I’m afraid he’ll run. It’s not that he’s a fearful person, well at least not usually. But I’ve been watching my mate for years and I know that when it comes to emotions, he’s not very good at handling them. “Luna Kennedy, how do you feel about being mated to my adopted son,” Alpha Harold asks as we dance. “I’m very happy about it, Alpha,” I tell him truthfully. “Hmmm, not many people would say that. My son isn’t an easy person to get close to.” “I’ve never found it that difficult.” “No, I guess you haven’t. Have you ever been to his pack, Luna?” I like that he keeps calling me Luna. Until Quirin called me mate, I was an Alpha, but now, being a Luna means that I’ve found the person I like. I can’t wait until his mark is on my neck and mine is on his so I can show everyone that he is mine. “No, I haven’t, Alpha. You have though, right?” “Yes. I’ll warn you, Kennedy, Quirin’s pack is different. His pack is made up of previous rogues, scrappy individuals who are used to fighting for what they have and what they want. You’re a strong person, Kennedy. It will take a strong person to make her way in a pack like that.” “I’ll do my very best, Alpha,” I tell him. “I’m sure you will,” he says just before his eyes shift to look over my head. A moment later I feel heat at my back and smell his sandalwood scent. “Are you going to let me dance with my mate, father?” “I was just warming her up for you, Quirin. Luna Kennedy, I do hope to see you soon.” “Thank you, Alpha,” I say to him and then turn to my mate. He looks at me for a moment, his eyebrow going up in the arrogant way that he has. Personally, I’ve always found it extremely incredible. “I didn’t know you danced, Alpha Quirin,” I say as he takes me in his arms. “I’ve never had anyone I was interested in dancing with before, Little Pup,” he says. I ignore the ‘pup’ part and revel in the thought that he wants to dance with me. He begins to expertly move me around the floor. “Where did you learn to dance like this, Alpha?” I ask him. He looks at me. “Quirin, Kennedy. If we’re going to be mated, we should be more familiar, don’t you think?” I smile at him and even though he doesn’t smile, I watch his eyes soften. “Where did you learn to dance, Quirin?” “My mother, mostly. My father said that Alphas needed to know how to dance so we could play the mating game, searching for our mate, finding her, wooing her, all of that.” “Since you’ve searched for and found me, is this a game to you?” I ask him. “Or are you wooing me?” “I was never good at playing games, Little Pup. I am who I am. I don’t have time for frivolous things like playing games,” he says and there’s something in his tone, something that makes me think he’s trying to warn me off of him. It won’t work. “So, you’re wooing me then?” I ask. He looks down at me and the intense look in his eyes takes my breath away. “I’m going to make you mine today, Kennedy. There will be no going back, no second chances. After today, you will be mine forever. You will belong to me. You should think about that before we leave here today. Because once my mark is on you, I will never allow you to leave me.” “Well, once my mark is on you, I’ll never allow you to leave me either. So perhaps you should be the one thinking about things before we leave today,” I say indignantly, my tone expressing my aggravation with his words. I’m rewarded with one of his rare smiles. “I’ve done nothing BUT think about it since Raif called you our mate.” “You’re questioning if you want me as a mate?” I ask quietly. His face becomes more serious. “Do you remember what I said to you that day in the garden on Henry’s eighteenth birthday?” “You said people like you are no good for little pups like me. But I disagree.” I can see the surprise on his face. I’m not sure if it’s because I remembered or because I disagree with him. “And do you remember what you said to me after that?” he asks. “I said I’m not afraid of you,” I remember that day as if it were yesterday. I’ve relived it a thousand times in my mind and in my dreams. “And you never have been, have you, Little Pup?” “No.” “Why is that? Others are terrified of me. Most people won’t even come close enough to speak to me. But not you. Never you. You always made a point of coming over to talk to me, didn’t you?” “You don’t scare me. You never did,” I tell him honestly. I’m not sure what he would have said, but at that moment, my father began tapping a glass. He calls Connor and me to the front of the room, wishing us a happy birthday and announcing my brother’s Alpha ceremony in one week. “Alpha Quirin, I do hope that you and Kennedy will be here to see her twin take his place as Alpha of the pack,” my father says. I know of the animosity between my father and my mate. It’s been there all of my life, and I know why the animosity is there. The only difference is the perspective of the person telling the story. I see Quirin ready to decline, but I refuse to miss such a momentous occasion for my brother. “Of course, we’ll be here, Father,” I say before Quirin can decline. “Excellent,” he says, not giving Quirin a chance to overrule people now, your mother and I have gifts for the two of you.” He turns and my mother joins him, handing him a box before coming to me and handing me a box. “Oh Mother, you didn’t have to,” I say. “You’re my daughter. And now, it feels even more important since you’re going to be leaving and starting your own life,” she says, with tears in her eyes. I hug her, long enough that I hear awkward laughs from the others gathered around. I’m sure it’s about my brother’s watch. I’ve seen it already and I know it cost a fortune. It’s a rare, very expensive watch that my father felt my brother should have. “Thank you, father. Thank you, Mother,” he says, putting the watch on. “Your turn, Kennedy,” my father says. I smile, looking over at Quirin. I see something like regret on his face, but I’m not sure why he’d be regretful of whatever my parents got me. I open the box and it’s a gorgeous diamond necklace. “Oh, it’s so beautiful!” I say. “Let me put it on you,” my mother says. “I knew it would go perfectly with your dress,” she says. When it’s clasped, I turn and hug her. “Thank you!” Then I go to my father and hug him as well. “Thank you!” “Of course. Let’s have some cake!” he says, tucking me against his side as he announces cake to the room. “Listen, Kennedy. Before you leave, I wanted to tell you … “ my father begins. “Kennedy, let’s go have some cake and then we need to think about leaving,” Quirin says, coming up behind me. I can feel the tension between the two people, and I can also tell that my father doesn’t want to let me go. He doesn’t trust Quirin to take care of me. I pull away from my father. There is no choice for me. Quirin has always been the person I’ve wanted. He is my mate. I’m an Alpha wolf and I like a challenge just like any Alpha. I know that things between me and Quirin won’t always be easy, but I know that there is no one else for me. “Yes, Quirin, let’s go get some cake.” I take his hand and lead him away from my parents. It’s only about an hour later when Quirin tells me that I need to go pack my things. “Since we’re apparently coming back in a week, just bring what you need for now. I’ll make plans to get a truck and we can bring everything else back next week when we’re here.” “Okay,” I say, starting to get nervous. “I won’t take too long.” I find my mother and ask her to help me, before heading upstairs to pack up my life. I’m ready to move and leave this pack and my family behind me, ready to start my new life with Quirin, wherever that may lead.	LEARN_MORE	https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=18347&u	New world publications	https://www.facebook.com/100090352943774/	3,809	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	befant.com	IMAGE		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=18347&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/478836178_1350173992778234_7752983501470110603_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=GfSKaSqt4V4Q7kNvgGjGLUe&_nc_oc=AdgmeAT7uGwxD2lcilH47q-MpiI2tkrY9NHZmG59bZ5t-iLNUu237q3wi7QNjXjMx0uzV3sjoBGanjQ3CjUrqL6R&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Ah-ETnx4FxYiJ3VMcdFzc2f&oh=00_AYAlJLltOBpuCUVoVMWsWQmOodLcKQ_tmmYdjJAsRSr4Lg&oe=67CBA5B7	PERSON_PROFILE	New world publications	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,756,228	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2756203}'	Yes	2025-03-03 12:18	active	2772	🔥🔥Click to read the next chapter for free👉	"Can you share Nash’s contact info with me?" The girl who was well-known around campus lightly poked my arm. Near the classroom window, a figure came into view. It was 17-year-old Nash Xander. I suddenly snapped back to my senses, clutching my chest and gasping for breath. "What's the matter with you?" The person who poked me was my desk mate, Yvonne Quinn, who had just transferred here a week ago and was crowned as the most beautiful girl on campus. In my previous life, she had been just as carefree and self-assured, declaring, "Give me his contact info, and I'll have him in a week." Back then, I had dismissed it as mere boasting. But that very evening, I witnessed her seated on the table, sharing a kiss with Nash. The plaster statue that should have been on the table tumbled to the ground, breaking into pieces. I was reborn! I found myself transported back to a time when tragedies hadn’t unfolded yet. I clenched my hands, battling to suppress the quiver in my voice. "Sure, I'll send you on WhatsApp." In my previous life, I hadn't given her Nash’s contact info, and she had held a grudge against me for quite a while. After a straightforward operation on my phone, I set it aside. "Alright, if there’s nothing else, I should get back to my studies." Yvonne added Nash on WhatsApp while inquiring, "Studying again? Aren't you curious why I said I wanted to win him over? Aren't you secretly infatuated with him?" My heart constricted. At the age of seventeen, I had made two grave mistakes. First, I harbored a secret affection for Nash but lacked the courage to confess it. Second, I reported his relationship with Yvonne, which resulted in him being sent abroad. Thus, he held a deep-seated grudge against me, a hatred that endured for eight long years. He was even willing to destroy me, all to exact revenge for what had transpired back then. Recalling that humiliating night, a wave of nausea washed over me. "No, you've got it all wrong. I've never secretly crushed on him," I asserted, raising my head and locking eyes with Yvonne, my expression deadly serious. My earnest response caught Yvonne off guard, and she slyly curled her lips. "Well, now that you've said that, I can breathe easy. I wasn't sure how to tell you about me and Nash, afraid it might upset you." In my previous life, Yvonne had displayed the same audacious confidence. Yvonne was stunning, possessing a well-proportioned, tall frame, flawless fair skin, and striking facial features that radiated even without makeup. Among our rather ordinary-looking group of students, she was the most dazzling rose. Yvonne had earned the moniker of a "campus heartbreaker" – she had dated practically every good-looking guy in the school. Her personality matched her appearance, passionate and outgoing. While others anxiously studied for exams, she was drinking, partying, and skipping classes. She didn't fit the mold of a conventional "good girl." However, for those who didn’t dare to defy conventions, she exuded a deadly allure. Nash was one of those who couldn't resist her charm. I recalled the moments just before my death in my previous life. I gripped the cuff of Nash’s white shirt, telling him, "Nash, you shouldn't treat me like this, even if you despise me. Seeking revenge in this manner isn't right." As his cuff slipped from my grasp, my arm bore permanent scars from smoke burns and a curling iron. Nash peered down at me with a patronizing smirk. "So, what's your suggestion then? If it weren't for you, Yvonne wouldn't have married someone else, and she wouldn't have met her end in that underground clinic." "You played a part in her demise, and yet, you have the nerve to ask for my forgiveness?" "Wendy Carter, you're incredibly naive." Yes, in my previous life, I had confided in Mr. and Mrs. Xander about Nashi's relationship with Yvonne. It led to Nash being forced to go abroad, while Yvonne, entangled in a love affair, failed SAT. She graduated shortly after and became involved with a punk. She became conceived out of wedlock, and her boyfriend abandoned her, with her parents also neglecting her. In desperation, Yvonne sought a surgery at an underground clinic but didn't survive the procedure. Nash firmly believed that if I hadn't disclosed their relationship to his parents, he wouldn't have left the country, and Yvonne wouldn't have met her tragic end. I was the root cause of it all. I smiled warmly and offered my best wishes, saying, "That's wonderful! I wish you both a lifetime of happiness and love." Yvonne glanced at me with a hint of puzzlement but remained silent. As time passed, Nash and Yvonne carried on their secret romance. They were just like any other couple, skipping classes to catch movies, adorning their ears with flashy jewelry, sharing kisses on the Ferris wheel, and racing through the streets on motorcycles. Yvonne was introducing Nash to all the experiences he had missed in his previous life. Their carefree existence didn't quite fit the mold of typical students. Perhaps they had forgotten that they were still in school. I observed it all from a distance, choosing not to be silly enough to report them to Mr. and Mrs. Xander. I had a busy schedule preparing for SAT. In my previous life, under Nash’s influence, I had enrolled in the same high school as him and pursued an art major. I had even resolved to specialize in the same field as Nash, willingly becoming his shadow. However, things were different now. I had decided to switch from being an art student to a regular one. I was preparing to take SAT and carve out my own path. Chapter 0002 This path was undeniably challenging, but regardless of how tough it might get, I was determined to give it a shot. I had faith in myself! I overheard Yvonne boasting to someone, "Oh, come on, Nash is just a guy others hype up. In reality, he doesn't know anything; he's just a bit of an art geek. "On that note, if it weren't for the fact that he's participated in so many competitions, his reputation, and the fact that he's reasonably good-looking, who would be willing to be with him?" A fellow classmate chimed in, "Cut it out, Yvonne. If you're going to brag, at least be realistic. He's a top student. Do you really think he'd be interested in you? You're probably just a fun distraction for him because you have the reputation of being a campus hottie." Yvonne snorted, "You guys are just jealous. Who cares if he's a top student? I can win him over anytime. "To prove whether he's genuinely interested in me or not, that's simple. Just wait and see." The classmate added, "I heard he's about to participate in an international art competition. If you're as talented as you claim, why don't you try to stop him from going?" I sat right beside her, fully aware of how crucial this competition was for Nash and how much effort he had invested in it. As expected, even without my interference, the pivotal moments from my previous life were unfolding once again. In my previous life, I knew that Yvonne was dating Nash casually. I tried dropping hints to Nash a few times, but he always believed I was trying to stir trouble and ruin their relationship. So, after much hesitation, I chose to inform his parents. Due to their intervention, things escalated significantly. Nash and Yvonne were compelled to break up. Nash's mother kept a watchful eye on him during the competition, but due to his less-than-optimal condition, he missed out on the first-place prize. Not long after, his parents sent him overseas. He harbored a grudge against me for many years, a grudge so deep that he was willing to destroy me in that manner. As I regained my composure, Yvonne was already standing directly in front of me. She casually rested her arm on my shoulder and asked, "Wendy, you're not going to rat us out, are you?" I lowered my head, opened my book, and made a solemn promise, "Don't worry, I didn't catch a word of it." In my previous life, Nash himself imparted a lesson to me: to let go of playing the hero and to respect the destinies of others. The first time I encountered Nash after my rebirth was right at my doorstep. It marked our initial meeting since my reincarnation. Reflecting on his actions towards me in my prior life, my palms couldn't help but break out in a cold sweat. I suppressed my revulsion and glanced down. Empty cans were scattered on the ground, and he still held an unfinished beer can in his hand. When he noticed me, he swiftly rose from the ground, his eyes bloodshot, and he clutched my shoulder. "Wendy, aren't you in the same class as Yvonne? Could you do me a favor and get in touch with her? She wants to break up with me. "I can't bear to let her go. She doesn't like me drawing, and I can give up drawing. Please convey to her that I'll stop drawing. Can you do that for me? "I'm really out of options. I love her, and I can't bear to lose her. I'm willing to sacrifice anything for her." I silently gazed at the disheveled young man before me, reeking of wine. He had lost the radiance he once had. He appeared different from the Nash I remembered. His hands had always been well-proportioned and well-kept; he cherished them dearly. He once said he was grateful to the heavens for blessing him with hands capable of crafting captivating works of art. He took great pleasure in the process of turning landscapes and people into art with his adept touch. However, now his hands, once meticulously maintained, were smeared with dirt, and yet, he remained oblivious to it all. In his eyes, no one could hold a candle to Yvonne anymore. I couldn't help but shake my head. Indeed, the unattainable Nash that I used to admire could only exist in memories; even if the actual Nash himself were to appear now, it wouldn’t work. Chapter 0003 "Wendy, why aren't you speaking? Are you willing to help me or not?" Seeing Nash's hopeful expression, I pulled out my phone and dialed Yvonne's number. Willing? Of course, why wouldn't I be? How else would I get to witness this drama unfold? "Yvonne, Nash has passed out drunk at my doorstep, shouting your name. Can you come over for a moment?" Nash stared anxiously at the phone, barely taking a breath. Yvonne chuckled and asked me, "What does it have to do with me if he's passed out at your doorstep? You must have called the wrong person." Nash's face grew even paler by the moment. These two couldn't break up, so I immediately stepped in. "Yvonne, did you two have an argument? Couples don't break up after just one fight. Why not hear Nash out or let him apologize to you? Yvonne scoffed, "Apologize? There's no need for an apology. If you want me to stay with him, ask him if he's truly willing to do anything for me." I switched on the speakerphone, and as soon as Nash heard Yvonne say that, he immediately nodded in a panic. "Yes, Yvonne, I'm willing to do anything for you. I'm sorry, it's my fault for making you upset." Yvonne appeared satisfied, "Good then. In that case, don't go to the competition." After that, she abruptly hung up the phone. Nash stared at my phone in bewilderment. I observed Nash, curious to see how he would choose in this life without my intervention. Nash stood there, rigid and with his head bowed. I understood that matters of love and dreams could be quite complex. After a while, he lifted his head with a bitter smile and asked, "Wendy, does giving up the competition prove how important she is to me?" He posed the question to me, but I sensed he already knew the answer in his heart. I didn't have much to add, considering my previous life's experiences. I watched as his despondent figure slowly receded from view, step by step. Indeed, Nash didn't participate in the competition due to an injury on his hand. Something must have happened after leaving my place, as a substantial abrasion had appeared on the back of his hand. Even the slightest movement caused it to bleed. I couldn't help but admire the power of love, driving him to self-sacrifice to honor his promise to his girlfriend. Their reconciliation was nothing short of a miracle. They walked home hand in hand, enjoying sweet and happy moments every day. Nash no longer displayed the despair of that night; instead, his eyes radiated tenderness and affection for the girl at his side. As they strolled past the alley they used to take on their way home, Yvonne exhaled the smoke slowly into Nash's face. He lovingly caressed her hair, then leaned in to kiss her deeply. He placed his arm around her waist and walked into a nearby internet cafe. Once inside, a group of local young people greeted him, and he engaged in a lively conversation. I shook my head, turned away, and became a complete bystander. It wasn't until Nash's mother found us in our classroom that everything changed. Mrs. Xander was a well-known fashion designer, and she had always been kind and gentle. In my memory, she never had any conflicts with anyone, giving the impression of a very contented life. Mr. Xander’s company had also been quite successful, which was why in my previous life, when Nash took over the company, he had the power to place me in the bed of a business partner. Nash excelled in his academic subjects, and he had remarkable talent in art as well. He was what parents often referred to as the "golden child" who excelled in everything. His parents never pressured him to focus solely on academics; they fully supported his pursuit of interests and hobbies. Nash certainly lived up to their expectations, winning numerous awards over the years. Upon high school graduation, he received acceptance letters from prestigious foreign universities. This competition was his gateway to a prestigious art school. Nash could have enjoyed a splendid life, basking in the limelight and receiving applause and flowers from everyone. However, he willingly chose to forgo all that glory and opted to rot in the gutter with Yvonne. Chapter 0004 Mrs. Xander walked in followed by our homeroom teacher, her face stern and icy. "Who is Yvonne?" she demanded, her sharp gaze scanning the room. None of the students dared to make a sound. Yvonne, seated next to me, furrowed her brow and swiftly tapped a few times on her phone, then stood up calmly. "That would be me. How may I help you?" Mrs. Xander scrutinized Yvonne from head to toe with her slender brows furrowed. Yvonne's face gradually turned red, and she appeared somewhat flustered. "It's you, the one who's dating my son every day, leading him into mischief?" Yvonne instinctively denied it, but before she could say more, Mrs. Xander slapped her across the face. "Your tricks won't work with me. Do you think I don't know what you're up to? You're so young, yet so cunning!" Yvonne, with a red mark from Mrs. Xander's five fingers on her beautiful face, stared in disbelief at Mrs. Xander and shouted loudly, "You old witch, who gave you the right to hit me?" Mrs. Xander coldly chuckled, "I have every right, especially when you, at such a young age, deliberately seduced my son. He used to be such a well-behaved child, but now, because of you, he's drinking, getting into fights, and defying his parents. If you want to ruin yourself, go ahead, but why drag my son down with you?" Yvonne was a popular figure at school, and she couldn't tolerate being accused of seducing someone. "Well-behaved? Ha, old witch, Nash is a human being, an independent thinker. How dare you use 'well-behaved' to describe him as if he were a dog." Yvonne argued vehemently. Mrs. Xander was so furious that her chest heaved up and down. She grabbed Yvonne's hair and began pulling. "My son, my rules. It's my choice how I want to raise him. It's none of your business." Nash finally arrived, pushing Mrs. Xander aside and protecting Yvonne. Our homeroom teacher managed to restrain Mrs. Xander, who was now panting heavily. "Mom, what are you doing? It's my choice to be with Yvonne so hit me instead. "Withdrawing from the competition was my own decision; it has nothing to do with Yvonne." Mrs. Xander never expected her obedient and sensible son to openly defy her for a girl who clearly had ulterior motives. She trembled with anger, swayed a bit, and our homeroom teacher hurriedly supported her. "Mom..." Nash hadn't expected his mother to be so upset. Seeing Mrs. Xander's unsteady steps, he worriedly called out to her. "Don't call me 'Mom.' I don't have such a disobedient and unfilial son like you." Mrs. Xander raised her hand and slapped Nash. She pointed at me, standing among the crowd. "You want to date? Your dad and I never stopped you, but at least find a decent girl like Wendy. Wake up and see what kind of person she is. Are you trying to drive me and your dad to an early grave?" I stood there, feeling unexpectedly singled out. This hadn't happened in my previous life. Mrs. Xander had never come to the school, and even when she later found out about Nash and Yvonne's early romance, they had chosen to send Nash abroad discreetly, cutting off their contact. Something must have happened this time to make Mrs. Xander react so irrationally and embarrass both of them publicly. Since Mrs. Xander mentioned my name, everyone's eyes turned to me. Yvonne, seemingly realizing something, stared at me with sudden anger. "Wendy, it's you! You're the one who told on us!" "You promised me you wouldn't snitch on us. Why would you do this? What do you gain from it?" Nash, too, looked at me with a mixture of caution and annoyance. I shrugged. "This has nothing to do with me. I told you I wouldn't get involved in your affairs, and I've kept my word. If you want to argue, can you at least do it outside? It's affecting everyone's studying here. Also, Mrs. Xander, please clarify that I didn't inform on you." However, Yvonne was convinced that I was the informer. "Enough of this arguing. I'm the one who told Mrs. Xander. Calm down, and if you have any issues, discuss them in my office. Don't disrupt the other students here," our homeroom teacher said, rubbing her temples. We followed our homeroom teacher to her office. It was class time, so there was no one else inside. Mrs. Xander, still furious, was seated by our homeroom teacher. "If our homeroom teacher hadn't told me, how long were you planning to hide this from me? All the things you've done behind my back, how do you plan to explain them to me and your dad?" Mrs. Xander glared at Nash. Chapter 0005 "Alright, talk to your child calmly," our homeroom teacher said, pouring a cup of tea for Mrs. Xander and patting her hand. Our homeroom teacher and Mrs. Xander were old classmates and had a very close relationship. With her soothing words, Mrs. Xander managed to restrain her anger. Both Mrs. Xander and our homeroom teacher confirmed that the information didn't come from me, and I finally cleared my name. "Now that it's not my problem, I'll head back to the classroom. There are so many practice papers I haven't finished." The college entrance exam was approaching, and I had to make the most of my time. However, I had underestimated the gossip mills in our school. This incident became widely known. While teenage romances were not uncommon, and some even involved parents and the school, this one attracted unparalleled attention. I heard that Mrs. Xander gave them two choices that day. Either Nash would go abroad, or Yvonne would transfer to another school. Yvonne thought she could easily get into an art school with her looks and figure, which was why she dared to be so reckless in her relationship with Nash. She certainly wouldn't transfer schools for Nash; she hadn't fallen in love with him that deeply yet. Tears welled up in Yvonne's eyes as she hid behind Nash, feeling wronged. "Don't worry, Yvonne, I'll protect you." Nash probably felt responsible for Yvonne's humiliation by his mother. When Nash was taken home by Mrs. Xander, another intense argument erupted. To express his determination to be with Yvonne, Nash even smashed his beloved easel and went on a hunger strike in protest. I saw Nash a week later. It was the first sunny day in two months. I happened to catch a glimpse of him sitting by the window, painting. Since being with Yvonne, he had rarely touched a paintbrush. He would discard a painting even before it took shape. In the middle of the night, the piercing sound of an ambulance tore through the silence. My parents heard it and rushed next door to help. I saw Mr. Xander carrying Nash on his back, and Mrs. Xander was sobbing behind them. Nash's right hand hung in front of Mr. Xander, and blood was dripping down one drop at a time. "Quick, get him into the ambulance, Mr. Xander, I'll give you a hand." My dad rushed up, supporting the unconscious Nash on Mr. Xander's back, and they hurried towards the ambulance. Nash, pale as a ghost, lay on his father's shoulder, a victorious smile in his eyes. As he passed by me, he chuckled and said something. "In this lifetime, I'll live for Yvonne. Wendy, don't obstruct me, or you know what'll happen." In that moment, it felt like a bucket of icy water had been poured over me, and I stood frozen in place, feeling a chilling dread. Nash's tendons in his hand were severed, and while the discovery was made quickly and his life was not in danger, his hand was rendered useless. Mr. and Mrs. Xander had no choice but to agree to let the two of them be together. Nash could never pick up a paintbrush again, but he didn't mind it one bit. When someone asked, he would proudly display the long scar on his wrist, boasting, "This is proof of my love for Yvonne, this is my youth!" But only I knew that those hands of his could have painted unique works of art. He could have been in the halls filled with an artistic atmosphere, enjoying the admiring glances of everyone. After Mrs. Xander's visit to the school, Yvonne moved to the seat farthest away from me. The two of them were now openly together. I heard there were a few breakups in between, but each time, Nash went and coaxed her back. As for Yvonne, she simply assumed herself to be part of the Xander family. After witnessing Mrs. Xander's wealth and extravagance, and dissatisfied with her own modest circumstances, Yvonne often asked Nash for expensive gifts that students couldn't afford. However, Nash was determined to be with her. Disappointed, Mr. and Mrs. Xander cut off Nash's allowance. Nash had already moved out of his home, and he rented a house with Yvonne off-campus. Thanks to Nash participating in various competitions over the years, he had won numerous prizes and managed to save a substantial amount from his previous allowances. For a while, they were living quite comfortably. Chapter 0006 I paid no attention to all of this and dedicated all my time to my studies. Whenever I encountered something I didn't understand, I would seek guidance from my teachers. My parents even hired a private tutor for me. After school each day, I focused on strengthening my weaker subjects. Following the second mock exam, my grades improved significantly, and I secured a place in the top ten students in the entire grade. My homeroom teacher called me into her office, his face filled with pride but tinged with a hint of regret as he patted my shoulder. "Your friendship with Nash has always been excellent. It's a shame." Another teacher chimed in, "He's such a talented student! Yet, that Yvonne doesn't seem to study at all, and she's influencing good students." I quietly left the office, passing by the hallway where I spotted Nash and Yvonne kissing. Nash, seemingly accustomed to Yvonne's playful nature. He wasn't wearing his usual white shirt but had donned a T-shirt with bold patterns, much like Yvonne's. When Yvonne noticed me, she nudged Nash and playfully raised her chin toward me. "Hey, it's your little crush. No greeting? She's in the top ten now, you know." Nash glanced at me, his gaze strangely distant, as if we had never met before. His thin lips formed two words. "Not interested." Yvonne burst into laughter. Ever since Mr. and Mrs. Xander stopped caring about Nash, he had become unrestrained. Just a few days ago, he even got into a fight with a troublemaker from our school. Coincidentally, the troublemaker happened to be Yvonne's ex-boyfriend, and he couldn't resist provoking them when he saw them together. Yvonne couldn't stand it and egged Nash on to fight the guy. Nash didn't hesitate, delivering a single punch that broke the guy's nose. Mrs. Xander came to our school for the second time. The wealthy lady, accustomed to a life of luxury, was now humbly apologizing to the teachers and parents. Nash stood silently by her side, tightly holding Yvonne's hand without uttering a word. Mrs. Xander was seething with anger, rendering her speechless. Our homeroom teacher, unable to bear it any longer, stood up and scolded Nash. "Nash, look at yourself now. You used to be such an outstanding student, how did you become so unreasonable? While your family is well-off, your parents can't protect you forever. Even if you want to date, can't you find a sensible girl? You've known Wendy since childhood, why don't you choose her instead of someone like..." The rest of her words were unkind, and as she glanced at Yvonne, who was nonchalantly chewing gum next to Nash, she frowned and swallowed the remaining words. She couldn't help but add, "Nash, this shows a lack of responsibility towards yourself!" Nash lifted his head, sarcastically remarking, "How could Wendy ever compare to Yvonne?" Our homeroom teacher slammed her hand onto the desk, exclaiming, "Wendy is currently ranked third in the class and is among the top ten students in the grade. How can you claim that she can't be compared to Yvonne?" Nash, with a blank expression, retorted, "She's just a bookworm who only knows how to study. Boring." "Yeah, teacher!" Yvonne chimed in with a laugh, hooking her arm around Nash's. "If we don't go a little crazy in our youth, what's the point?" Nash frowned irritably. "And please, can you all stop comparing me to Wendy? We don't have anything to do with each other..." He stopped mid-sentence, noticing me entering with my homework. In fact, I had been there for a while and overheard their conversation. I entered just because it was time for the next class. Silently, I placed my homework on the teacher's desk and said, "Teacher, I'm going back to class."	LEARN_MORE	https://www.qknymufd.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=1	Happyday	https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/	1,663	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	www.qknymufd.com	VIDEO		https://www.qknymufd.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=17985&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475780479_2877643852409262_6687145381019828711_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=40tVnS1YprEQ7kNvgFFO871&_nc_oc=Adh8u3jGLet8JcJfViKyVNQapI2HqAB4W-pPlCUjndI4uCbJoKXRNHdz-g3lWDkhNmgqmSuo07jNJZuvWtJS9FFy&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Ah-ETnx4FxYiJ3VMcdFzc2f&oh=00_AYA7QEnRHT6jTXb-LnC3i0McufzzUTkQncaf5N6hJrlslg&oe=67CBD073	PERSON_PROFILE	Happyday	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,757,001	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2025-03-03 12:18	active	2772	Read next chapter	To survive, she climbed into her so-called uncle's bed. Two years later, she realized she was just a toy. Heartbroken, she left after seeing him at his first love's prenatal checkup. ===== The winters in Ulares were bone-chilling, but inside Cloudscape Mansion, the air was thick with warmth and passion. "Uncle Ethan…" Nyla Green gasped, her voice catching. Ethan's lips quirked into a satisfied smirk. "Being so well-behaved tonight, aren't you?" "Don't you like it when I'm well-behaved?" The hunger in Ethan's eyes was undeniable. "What is it you want?" Settling into the armchair by the window, he asked, his mood seemingly lighter than usual. "Will you give me anything I ask for?" Nyla's voice was soft, hesitant, her hopeful gaze fixed on his sharp, handsome face. "Depends on what it is," Ethan replied evenly. "I want to be Mrs. Brooks." The warmth in Ethan's expression disappeared, replaced by a glacial stare that sent a chill down her spine. Nyla's heart sank as he let out a mocking laugh. "I've been too soft on you," he said coldly. "You think that gives you the right to ask for something like that?" Nyla bit her lip, "Callie's back, isn't she? You're planning to marry her, aren't you?" Callie Higgins--the name itself was enough to twist Nyla's gut. She was Ethan's first love--the woman who had once saved his life from kidnappers when he was eighteen. After the incident, their families agreed that Ethan and Callie would get engaged when the time was right. Ethan's expression flickered, just for a moment, but it was enough for Nyla to know she'd struck a nerve. She'd been with him for two years; she knew him well. "I just want a status. You know how hard it is for me in the Brooks family. Without protection, I--" "Protection?" Ethan cut her off, his tone sharp. In a flash, he was in front of her, gripping her chin firmly. His dark eyes bored into hers, fierce and unyielding. "Do you think I don't see through you, Nyla? You think you're worthy of being Mrs. Brooks?" Chapter 2 Time To Let Go "Ethan Brooks, you haven't changed a bit--still as cold-hearted as ever," Nyla snapped. The warm atmosphere had long since turned to ice. Nyla's expression was calm, though her intentions were anything but hidden. Tears glimmered in her defiant eyes. "If you're not willing to give me what I want, then this is it. From today, we're done. Beyond being my step-uncle, you have nothing to do with me anymore." Ethan's sneer was sharp, cutting through the tension like a blde. "You're the one who climbed into my bd back then. And now you want to walk away? Nyla, do you really think I'm that easy to deal with?" It had been a while since the Green family's sudden collapse. Overnight, Nyla's world unraveled. Her father, Lorenzo Green, took his own life to prove his innocence, and her brother was thrown behind bars. Her mother, desperate to survive, became the mi*ress of Ethan's elder brother, Ryland Brooks. When Ryland's wife passed away, Nyla's mother--pregnant with Ryland's child--married him. The Brooks family made no secret of their disdain. Nyla had always known her place, keeping her distance from the Brooks family whenever possible. But they never intended to stop tormenting her. Out of options, she had turned to Ethan. As the current leader of the Brooks family and one of the most powerful men in Ulares, Ethan was the only one who could offer her protection. "So, what do we call this... arrangement?" Her voice was low, almost mocking. Ethan's gaze lingered on her face--dangerously beautiful, the kind that brought chaos wherever it went. "If you want something else, I might consider it," he said, his tone indifferent as he released her. The implication was clear: he wasn't letting go, not yet. Bitterness rose in Nyla's throat. She could endure being his bdmates, but she wouldn't let herself become the other woman. That was one boundary she refused to cross. "Ethan, I'm tired. This... whatever it is, it's over." The word "over" felt hollow--Ethan had never acknowledged what they had in the first place. She pulled her torn dress over her body, her hands trembling but her resolve firm. Ethan's expression darkened. "What are you trying to prove with this tantrum?" Nyla paused, holding herself together with every ounce of willpower. She stood tall, meeting his gaze. "Mr. Brooks, if you can't give me what I want, then let's not waste any more time. I need to move on." Her words struck a nerve. Ethan grabbed her arm, "Move on? To who?" His voice dripped with menace. "Who else could ever satisfy you like I do? Don't act like this was all some mistake. You crawled into my bd, Nyla. Don't think I'll let you forget that." Nyla's composure cracked as anger flared in her chest. She glared at him, tears brimming. "So what if I did? I regret it! You're going to marry Callie, and I'm supposed to sit here and wait for your scraps? I may be shameless, Ethan, but I'm not that pathetic." The air between them was suffocating, heavy with unspoken truths and unbearable tension. A sudden ring shattered the silence. Ethan glanced at his phone, irritation flickering across his face. He was about to ignore the call until he saw the name. Callie. He released Nyla and answered without hesitation. Nyla watched in silence, her heart sinking at his gentle tone. He'd only ever used it with her in bd. She felt the humiliation settle deep in her chst. "I'll be there soon." Ethan finished the called and then dressed. He turned to Nyla. "I'll have Jackson transfer the money to your account. Don't even think about leaving." The door clicked shut behind him. Nyla sat still, staring at the empty space he left behind. Then, with a bitter laugh, she wiped her tears away. If she couldn't have what she wanted, then she'd take back what little was left of her dignity. It was time to let go. Chapter 3 So What If I Am? Nyla, now in her senior year of college, had already begun her internship while managing her own studio--a venture she had started during her junior year. She specialized in fashion design, and her studio was her pride and joy. But lately, the pressure from competitors had been relentless. Someone clearly wanted her out of Ulares. Despite the frustration, Nyla refused to back down. After a restless night, her body ached as she got ready for the day. She couldn't bring herself to wear her usual professional attire, opting instead for a casual outfit. Even in simple clothes, her elegance and charisma turned heads wherever she went. As she walked into the studio, her receptionist hesitated before approaching her. "Miss Green... um, your mother is here," she said nervously. "We tried to stop her, but... she's holding a baby, and we didn't want to risk anything." Nyla gave her a reassuring smile. Her mother, Vicki Brooks, was difficult to deal with. "It's fine. I understand. You can get back to work." Relieved, the receptionist nodded and returned to her desk. Nyla's studio wasn't large, but every inch of it reflected her touch. She had designed the interior herself, favoring a minimalist elegance that radiated sophistication. In the lounge area, she spotted her mother cradling a baby in her arms. Nolan Brooks, a premature baby, had come into the world when Vicki was in her forties. His arrival had nearly cost both their lives, and since then, Vicki's world revolved entirely around him. Standing silently in the doorway, Nyla observed her mother. Vicki's expression softened as she gently rocked Nolan, her maternal warmth unmistakable. For a fleeting moment, Nyla saw the woman Vicki used to be--a gentle, understanding wife and mother, back when the Green family was intact. But that version of her mother was gone. Now, Vicki was only a mother to Nolan. The thought stung, but Nyla pushed the feeling aside and walked into the lounge. She sat across from Vicki, who glanced up briefly before returning her attention to Nolan. Nyla's assistant quickly brought over a cup of coffee and slipped away without a word. Picking up the cup, Nyla stirred it slowly, the clinking of the spoon breaking the silence. "Why are you here?" she asked, her tone even. Vicki's gaze flickered disapprovingly over Nyla's casual outfit. "You're going out dressed like that? Don't you realize you're representing the Brooks family now? Everything you do reflects on us." Leaning back on the sofa, Nyla replied with a calm, measured voice, "My last name is Green. I've never been part of the Brooks family." Vicki's lips tightened, her frustration evident. "You--" She stopped herself, glancing down at Nolan, who stirred in her arms. Lowering her voice, she continued, "Ryland has arranged a date for you tomorrow at Delight Restaurant. You'll be meeting the second son of the Fowler family. He's from a respectable background, and it's time you start thinking about your future." Nyla raised an eyebrow, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. The second son of the Fowler family had recently been released from prison. Ryland certainly had a knack for picking matches. "I don't have time," Nyla replied dismissively, taking a sip of her coffee. Vicki's composure cracked. "No time? You didn't go to school or your studio yesterday. And you didn't come home last night either. I heard you were at a bar." She had done her homework. Nyla's late-night escapades and partying were the reason Vicki had stormed over. That kind of behavior was unacceptable. If it weren't for Nolan dozing off in her arms, she'd have already started yelling. Then Vicki's sharp eyes zeroed in on a faint red mrk on Nyla's neck. Her expression darkened. "What's that on your neck?" she hissed. "I'm warning you, Nyla. If you're fooling around, I won't tolerate it!" Nyla paused mid-sip, setting her cup down deliberately. She met Vicki's glare with calm indifference. Her mother still looked youthful despite her age. Money sure did wonders, Nyla mused. "And what if I am?" she said, leaning back. "You haven't cared about me in years, so why pretend now? Take your precious son and leave." Chapter 4 Family Dinner "Nyla!" Vicki shot to her feet, her sudden movement jolting Nolan awake in her arms. The baby let out a wail that pierced through the studio. "It's okay, Nolan. Shh, you're okay," Vicki murmured, turning her attention to him and pointedly ignoring Nyla. "We'll go home soon, sweetheart. Be good for Mommy." Nyla rubbed her ears, the irony of the scene grating on her nerves. Without a word, she turned to leave. "Don't forget." Vicki's strained voice rang out behind her. "I've always been the one begging for help for your brother. Do you have any idea how much he's suffered in prison? And your sister-in-law? I've been the one sending her money to survive. If you had even a shred of consideration for me, you'd listen to what I say!" Nyla froze mid-step, her gaze drifting up to the ceiling as a wave of helplessness rolled over her. After the incident all those years ago, her brother had been jailed, and her pregnant sister-in-law had been so traumatized she ended up hospitalized. The baby--already five months along--couldn't be saved, and her sister-in-law's health had never recovered. The family sold everything they owned, borrowed from anyone who'd listen, and still came up short. Eventually, their options ran dry, and even close relatives cut ties. Nyla's sister-in-law finally gave up, saying she didn't want to be a burden. Vicki's marriage into the wealthy Brooks family had brought temporary relief, but her sister-in-law's lingering illness had turned into a lifelong battle--one that drained both money and hope. And Vicki, to her credit, had been the one subsidizing the expensive treatments. Nyla's fingers curled and relaxed along the edge of her sleeve--a quiet gesture of powerless compromise. "Fine. I'll go." Vicki let out a relieved sigh, her tone softening. "There's a family dinner at the Brooks Mansion tonight. Leave work early and make sure you're there. You can't miss it." Nyla felt an immediate headache brewing. She'd planned to avoid Ethan for at least a little while longer, but her plans were thwarted before they'd even begun. "I know you hate going to these things, but think about me. Think about your little brother. He's just a child, Nyla. If you don't look out for him, who will? Please, just do this for me." Vicki's words left no room for refusal. Nyla was at a loss for words. Her mother asked her to protect Nolan, but who would protect her? The Brooks family wore their civility like sheep's clothing, but beneath it, she knew better. They were wolves--every single one of them--and none would spare her if given the chance. And yet, Nyla never voiced these grievances to Vicki. It would only be pointless. Vicki would call her immature, blame her for the Brooks family's hostility, insist that Nyla brought it all upon herself. So Nyla could only swallow her resentment. Later that afternoon, Nyla left work early as instructed. She took her time getting home and changed clothes, knowing Vicki would nitpick if she didn't look the part. She settled on a gray, short tweed jacket over a black skirt--poised, polished, and appropriately elegant. Nyla despised the cold. If it weren't for the Brooks family gathering, she would have bundled herself in two down jackets and called it a day. These social charades were a performance she loathed--hollow and suffocating. But Vicki insisted she need to integrate. Half an hour later, Nyla stepped out of the taxi in front of the imposing Brooks Mansion. Just as she turned to head inside, a sleek Maybach pulled up beside her. Nyla didn't intend to acknowledge anyone--until the license plate caught her eye. Ethan's car. The tinted window rolled down slowly, and two faces came into view--elegant, pristine, and altogether too perfect. "Hello, Nyla." A woman's voice broke the moment. "I'm Callie." Chapter 5 Rivals In Love Nyla had imagined meeting Callie in countless scenarios. Maybe it would happen during one of those stolen moments with Ethan, where they'd be caught red-handed. Or perhaps at Callie and Ethan's engagement party, where Nyla would dutifully offer her congratulations as a younger member of the Brooks family. But never like this--never with Callie deliberately approaching her. Nyla glanced at Ethan, suspicious. Was he behind this? But Ethan's gaze remained locked on her, his dark eyes betraying nothing. Those eyes had a way of pulling people in. She quickly looked away, her voice cold. "Hello. Did you need something?" Nyla didn't like the Brooks family, and she liked Callie even less. Callie was, after all, a rival in love. "Oh, nothing at all. I'd just heard Ethan had a breathtakingly beautiful niece, and I couldn't resist coming to meet you. I hope that's all right," Callie replied, her voice soft and syrupy, the kind of tone that made others instinctively want to protect her, a stark contrast to Nyla's cool tone. "You're exaggerating. I'm just an ordinary person." An ordinary person who was all too easy to manipulate. The moment the words left her mouth, Nyla felt Ethan's gaze on her--sharp, teasing. She met his eyes, her expression frosty, but he didn't look away. Instead, his lips parted, and his cool voice cut through the air. "Let's go. Don't waste time on people who don't matter." Callie offered an apologetic smile. "We'll head in, then. Would you like to join us? It's a bit of a walk." The words "people who don't matter" stung more than Nyla cared to admit. Last night, Ethan had been so close--so possessive he wouldn't let her leave--and now he was acting like a stranger. Huh. If Ethan chose acting as his career, he would win the Best Actor award, and Nyla would gladly be the one throwing tomatoes at his acceptance speech. Plastering on a bitter smile, she replied, "No thanks. I don't feel comfortable riding in a stranger's car." Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away. Behind her, the sleek Maybach sped off, its icy wind brushing her cheeks and nearly drawing tears from her eyes. But she refused to cry--not here, not at the Brooks family estate. The sprawling Brooks Mansion loomed ahead, its gardens and private villas spread across more than seven thousand square feet. It was the largest private residence in Ulares and an unyielding symbol of the Brooks family's influence. The family dinner was held in the main house of the estate, and by the time Nyla arrived, the room was already packed. Her eyes immediately found Ethan, standing beside Callie, who was chatting amicably with the wife of Ethan's second brother. They looked disturbingly at ease with one another. "Why are you so late? Didn't I tell you to leave work early?" The voice belonged to Vicki, who appeared beside Nyla in a black gown and white mink shawl, exuding effortless grace. Nyla forced a smile, though she detested the way Vicki had shed her real self to fit into the Brooks family mold. "It's a long drive. Besides, I'm here now, aren't I?" Her eyes roved over the crowd. Faces turned her way, some barely hiding their disdain. "Honestly, we shouldn't have bothered coming." Vicki tightened her grip on Nyla's hand, her voice dropping to a whisper. "If you listened to Ryland and made connections with the Fowler family, we wouldn't be in this position." Nyla's tone sharpened. "If you're in such a rush, feel free to go see my blind date yourself." "Don't be ridiculous!" Vicki hissed, glancing around nervously. The last thing she wanted was to cause a scene here. "Then stop nagging me," Nyla retorted. "Unless you want me to make a real fuss." Vicki bit back her frustration, unwilling to press further. Nyla slipped away and found an empty corner, determined to stay invisible until the endless family dinner wrapped up. But, of course, the peace didn't last. "Nyla, why are you sitting here all by yourself? Are you feeling out of place?" Callie's sugary voice rang in her ear. "I can show you around if you'd like." Chapter 6 Definition Of Decorum "Thank you, I appreciate your concern, Miss Higgins, but that won't be necessary." Nyla blinked leisurely, suppressing a yawn. The previous night had been relentless and exhausting, and as she sat in the quiet corner, weary and disinterested, she had thought no one would disturb her. Unexpectedly, Callie had come over, initiating conversation. As Nyla observed the gentle expression on Callie's face, a sardonic grin took root in her thoughts. She now understood Ethan's distaste for her; he evidently preferred someone more like Callie. "Leave her be, Callie. That woman is nothing but trouble. Who knows who she'll charm next? You're too good for her." These words came from Stella Brooks, the daughter of Ethan's second brother. Nyla turned toward Stella, her expression teasingly challenging. "Perhaps you're right. Maybe I should seek out Lukas for an enlightening chat in his bedroom. He'd probably appreciate it. And perhaps tomorrow I'll drop by Austen's place--I still know how to get in." Lukas Brooks, Stella's younger brother, had been captivated by Nyla from the start, wanting nothing more than to stay by her side. His family, convinced of Nyla's manipulative charm, met her with cold disdain. Consequently, Lukas found himself transferred to a distant boarding school. Austen Mitchell, the focus of Stella's unrequited affections, had grown up next door to Nyla. Their families were intertwined, and he always saw Nyla as kin, a fact unknown to many. This was the root of Stella's vehement animosity toward Nyla. Originally, Nyla endured her insults, but Stella's escalation to physical threats forced Nyla to retaliate. "Shame on you!" Stella seethed, her cheeks burning. "Don't think for a moment you belong in the Brooks household just because you share our roof! You're no better than your mother. It's clear now why your family crumbled--you thrive on being a shameless intruder!" Shadows flickered in Nyla's eyes, her fist tightening inside her sleeve, though her expression remained calm. "Has Austen actually accepted your advances? You seem to be the one relentlessly pursuing him. He freely opens his door to me. Can you say the same? Your efforts seem futile. He shows no interest in you." Stella's eyes welled up, her hand lifted for a slap, but Callie intervened just in time. "Stella, that was uncalled for. Why would you say such things?" Callie's voice carried the weight of a mentor scolding a student. Flushed and tearful, Stella bit her tongue following Callie's sharp scolding. With a restrained smile but firm voice, Callie maintained her composed aristocratic air. "You're under the Brooks' roof now, Nyla. It's high time to leave your old ways behind. We expect decorum in a family of the Brooks family's standing." Nyla noted Callie's attempt to shame her and wondered about her motives. Her secret with Ethan was safe. What was driving Callie's hostility? Was it just a personal dislike? Nyla's lethargy vanished, replaced by simmering annoyance. "Stella called me a shameless intruder and hurled insults, yet you don't accuse her of indecorum. I merely stated some facts, less harshly than her, and yet here you are, Miss Higgins, accusing me of impropriety." Nyla's voice was measured as she locked eyes with Callie, her laughter tinged with scorn. "So, this is your definition of decorum, Miss Higgins? Your upbringing must indeed be exemplary." Chapter 7 Lecture Me On Callie's Behalf? Callie's expression shifted, her eyes softening with a tinge of apology. "I didn't mean it like that," she said gently. "I just thought… it might help you to fit in better with the Brooks family." Nyla's gaze swept over the two women in front of her. Stella still looked like she was ready to tear her apart, while Callie's carefully composed friendliness had started to crumble. Suddenly, the family dinner didn't seem so dull after all. One person warned her not to dream too big about the Brooks family, and the other subtly reminded her of her place as an outsider. How delightfully amusing. "And what does that have to do with you, Miss Higgins?" Nyla asked, standing abruptly. A sly smile curved her lips as she added, "Stella does have a point, though. Who knows who I'll charm next? Maybe one day… Ethan will end up in my bd too. Instead of worrying about me, Miss Higgins, you might want to keep an eye on yourself." The smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Without waiting for a response, Nyla turned and strode toward the garden. "You bch! How dare you even think about Uncle Ethan!" Stella's shrill voice pierced the air. "Callie, see? She doesn't deserve your kindness. She's shameless!" Callie's eyes lingered on Nyla's retreating figure, all pretense of kindness gone. Her voice was cold and measured. "Just an outsider. Does she really think the Brooks family will protect her? Let's see how long she lasts." The garden, though chilled by the winter air, offered a quiet sanctuary to Nyla. Dinner still hadn't been served--Roger Brooks, Ethan's father, hadn't arrived yet. Nyla was grateful she wasn't particularly hungry. Otherwise, she might have had an outright clash with Vicki and left. Most of the flowers had withered, leaving the once vibrant landscape barren and forlorn. She studied the decayed flowers, finding an odd comfort in their desolation. Settling onto a swing tucked in the corner of the garden, Nyla pushed herself back and forth lightly, lost in thought. The Ethan situation was spiraling. If things ended between them now, her carefully laid plans would collapse. When she first approached Ethan, she'd told herself it was all calculated--a means to an end. But somewhere along the way, her emotions had betrayed her. She'd been starved of love for so long that the taste of it--however fleeting--had made her greedy. She didn't want to let him go. "Do you think you can hide out here after stirring trouble?" Ethan's voice cut through the stillness, sharp yet calm. "Do you think the Brooks family is that forgiving?" Nyla froze for a second before resuming her lazy swaying. The light from the house spilled onto her figure, casting her in an ethereal glow that made her seem almost otherworldly--a delicate flower in a crumbling garden. She tilted her head slightly, her hair spilling across her chest, and smiled faintly. "So, are you here to lecture me on your future fiancée's behalf?" Her eyes, glimmering with playful defiance, locked onto his. Ethan hated and loved those eyes--the mischievous glint that made her look like a sly little fox, always drawing him closer. "You're getting bolder." "If that's your reason, you can save your breath," Nyla retorted, bitterness threading her words. "I won't apologize. And you don't have to remind me of my place either. Whether the Brooks family hates me or not is none of your concern. After all, I'm just… insignificant, right?" Ethan's expression darkened instantly. He crossed the distance between them in a few long strides and pulled her down onto his lap as sat on the swing, its frame graning under their combined weight. "Have you already forgotten who was in my b*d yesterday, pleasing me?" Nyla's eyes widened as she struggled against him, "Let go of me! Ethan, this is the Brooks Mansion. Someone will see!" ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &3&	LEARN_MORE	https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-e	Fun Novel	https://www.facebook.com/100090881055588/	1,340	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	fbweb.moboreader.net	VIDEO		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-ena255_2-0124-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=233925549638247&exdata=FC3EB673E6B15A849CBADAC75D51499CC909798DA92CE765	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/474989473_923367096667905_259078454832790328_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=cB-lhNyuYGwQ7kNvgE12Y7M&_nc_oc=AdjSuyHEoJH2ZhOx4Qyorb0zeYY7XVZSJxoVFYg-GY4KsO5IyY-rc4mccV25eoPYpiU0QomQYguDDgnehLMA6sOj&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AASiA8mJsMWWlCw6lKgmWGf&oh=00_AYDvyFI-HWqXKoXUT-bwbHPrBbFNUBf0C3w_gRZKF3SQ3Q&oe=67CBDB89	PERSON_PROFILE	Fun Novel	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,757,002	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	No	2025-03-03 12:18	active	2772	Read next chapter	To survive, she climbed into her so-called uncle's bed. Two years later, she realized she was just a toy. Heartbroken, she left after seeing him at his first love's prenatal checkup. ===== The winters in Ulares were bone-chilling, but inside Cloudscape Mansion, the air was thick with warmth and passion. "Uncle Ethan…" Nyla Green gasped, her voice catching. Ethan's lips quirked into a satisfied smirk. "Being so well-behaved tonight, aren't you?" "Don't you like it when I'm well-behaved?" The hunger in Ethan's eyes was undeniable. "What is it you want?" Settling into the armchair by the window, he asked, his mood seemingly lighter than usual. "Will you give me anything I ask for?" Nyla's voice was soft, hesitant, her hopeful gaze fixed on his sharp, handsome face. "Depends on what it is," Ethan replied evenly. "I want to be Mrs. Brooks." The warmth in Ethan's expression disappeared, replaced by a glacial stare that sent a chill down her spine. Nyla's heart sank as he let out a mocking laugh. "I've been too soft on you," he said coldly. "You think that gives you the right to ask for something like that?" Nyla bit her lip, "Callie's back, isn't she? You're planning to marry her, aren't you?" Callie Higgins--the name itself was enough to twist Nyla's gut. She was Ethan's first love--the woman who had once saved his life from kidnappers when he was eighteen. After the incident, their families agreed that Ethan and Callie would get engaged when the time was right. Ethan's expression flickered, just for a moment, but it was enough for Nyla to know she'd struck a nerve. She'd been with him for two years; she knew him well. "I just want a status. You know how hard it is for me in the Brooks family. Without protection, I--" "Protection?" Ethan cut her off, his tone sharp. In a flash, he was in front of her, gripping her chin firmly. His dark eyes bored into hers, fierce and unyielding. "Do you think I don't see through you, Nyla? You think you're worthy of being Mrs. Brooks?" Chapter 2 Time To Let Go "Ethan Brooks, you haven't changed a bit--still as cold-hearted as ever," Nyla snapped. The warm atmosphere had long since turned to ice. Nyla's expression was calm, though her intentions were anything but hidden. Tears glimmered in her defiant eyes. "If you're not willing to give me what I want, then this is it. From today, we're done. Beyond being my step-uncle, you have nothing to do with me anymore." Ethan's sneer was sharp, cutting through the tension like a blde. "You're the one who climbed into my bd back then. And now you want to walk away? Nyla, do you really think I'm that easy to deal with?" It had been a while since the Green family's sudden collapse. Overnight, Nyla's world unraveled. Her father, Lorenzo Green, took his own life to prove his innocence, and her brother was thrown behind bars. Her mother, desperate to survive, became the mi*ress of Ethan's elder brother, Ryland Brooks. When Ryland's wife passed away, Nyla's mother--pregnant with Ryland's child--married him. The Brooks family made no secret of their disdain. Nyla had always known her place, keeping her distance from the Brooks family whenever possible. But they never intended to stop tormenting her. Out of options, she had turned to Ethan. As the current leader of the Brooks family and one of the most powerful men in Ulares, Ethan was the only one who could offer her protection. "So, what do we call this... arrangement?" Her voice was low, almost mocking. Ethan's gaze lingered on her face--dangerously beautiful, the kind that brought chaos wherever it went. "If you want something else, I might consider it," he said, his tone indifferent as he released her. The implication was clear: he wasn't letting go, not yet. Bitterness rose in Nyla's throat. She could endure being his bdmates, but she wouldn't let herself become the other woman. That was one boundary she refused to cross. "Ethan, I'm tired. This... whatever it is, it's over." The word "over" felt hollow--Ethan had never acknowledged what they had in the first place. She pulled her torn dress over her body, her hands trembling but her resolve firm. Ethan's expression darkened. "What are you trying to prove with this tantrum?" Nyla paused, holding herself together with every ounce of willpower. She stood tall, meeting his gaze. "Mr. Brooks, if you can't give me what I want, then let's not waste any more time. I need to move on." Her words struck a nerve. Ethan grabbed her arm, "Move on? To who?" His voice dripped with menace. "Who else could ever satisfy you like I do? Don't act like this was all some mistake. You crawled into my bd, Nyla. Don't think I'll let you forget that." Nyla's composure cracked as anger flared in her chest. She glared at him, tears brimming. "So what if I did? I regret it! You're going to marry Callie, and I'm supposed to sit here and wait for your scraps? I may be shameless, Ethan, but I'm not that pathetic." The air between them was suffocating, heavy with unspoken truths and unbearable tension. A sudden ring shattered the silence. Ethan glanced at his phone, irritation flickering across his face. He was about to ignore the call until he saw the name. Callie. He released Nyla and answered without hesitation. Nyla watched in silence, her heart sinking at his gentle tone. He'd only ever used it with her in bd. She felt the humiliation settle deep in her chst. "I'll be there soon." Ethan finished the called and then dressed. He turned to Nyla. "I'll have Jackson transfer the money to your account. Don't even think about leaving." The door clicked shut behind him. Nyla sat still, staring at the empty space he left behind. Then, with a bitter laugh, she wiped her tears away. If she couldn't have what she wanted, then she'd take back what little was left of her dignity. It was time to let go. Chapter 3 So What If I Am? Nyla, now in her senior year of college, had already begun her internship while managing her own studio--a venture she had started during her junior year. She specialized in fashion design, and her studio was her pride and joy. But lately, the pressure from competitors had been relentless. Someone clearly wanted her out of Ulares. Despite the frustration, Nyla refused to back down. After a restless night, her body ached as she got ready for the day. She couldn't bring herself to wear her usual professional attire, opting instead for a casual outfit. Even in simple clothes, her elegance and charisma turned heads wherever she went. As she walked into the studio, her receptionist hesitated before approaching her. "Miss Green... um, your mother is here," she said nervously. "We tried to stop her, but... she's holding a baby, and we didn't want to risk anything." Nyla gave her a reassuring smile. Her mother, Vicki Brooks, was difficult to deal with. "It's fine. I understand. You can get back to work." Relieved, the receptionist nodded and returned to her desk. Nyla's studio wasn't large, but every inch of it reflected her touch. She had designed the interior herself, favoring a minimalist elegance that radiated sophistication. In the lounge area, she spotted her mother cradling a baby in her arms. Nolan Brooks, a premature baby, had come into the world when Vicki was in her forties. His arrival had nearly cost both their lives, and since then, Vicki's world revolved entirely around him. Standing silently in the doorway, Nyla observed her mother. Vicki's expression softened as she gently rocked Nolan, her maternal warmth unmistakable. For a fleeting moment, Nyla saw the woman Vicki used to be--a gentle, understanding wife and mother, back when the Green family was intact. But that version of her mother was gone. Now, Vicki was only a mother to Nolan. The thought stung, but Nyla pushed the feeling aside and walked into the lounge. She sat across from Vicki, who glanced up briefly before returning her attention to Nolan. Nyla's assistant quickly brought over a cup of coffee and slipped away without a word. Picking up the cup, Nyla stirred it slowly, the clinking of the spoon breaking the silence. "Why are you here?" she asked, her tone even. Vicki's gaze flickered disapprovingly over Nyla's casual outfit. "You're going out dressed like that? Don't you realize you're representing the Brooks family now? Everything you do reflects on us." Leaning back on the sofa, Nyla replied with a calm, measured voice, "My last name is Green. I've never been part of the Brooks family." Vicki's lips tightened, her frustration evident. "You--" She stopped herself, glancing down at Nolan, who stirred in her arms. Lowering her voice, she continued, "Ryland has arranged a date for you tomorrow at Delight Restaurant. You'll be meeting the second son of the Fowler family. He's from a respectable background, and it's time you start thinking about your future." Nyla raised an eyebrow, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. The second son of the Fowler family had recently been released from prison. Ryland certainly had a knack for picking matches. "I don't have time," Nyla replied dismissively, taking a sip of her coffee. Vicki's composure cracked. "No time? You didn't go to school or your studio yesterday. And you didn't come home last night either. I heard you were at a bar." She had done her homework. Nyla's late-night escapades and partying were the reason Vicki had stormed over. That kind of behavior was unacceptable. If it weren't for Nolan dozing off in her arms, she'd have already started yelling. Then Vicki's sharp eyes zeroed in on a faint red mrk on Nyla's neck. Her expression darkened. "What's that on your neck?" she hissed. "I'm warning you, Nyla. If you're fooling around, I won't tolerate it!" Nyla paused mid-sip, setting her cup down deliberately. She met Vicki's glare with calm indifference. Her mother still looked youthful despite her age. Money sure did wonders, Nyla mused. "And what if I am?" she said, leaning back. "You haven't cared about me in years, so why pretend now? Take your precious son and leave." Chapter 4 Family Dinner "Nyla!" Vicki shot to her feet, her sudden movement jolting Nolan awake in her arms. The baby let out a wail that pierced through the studio. "It's okay, Nolan. Shh, you're okay," Vicki murmured, turning her attention to him and pointedly ignoring Nyla. "We'll go home soon, sweetheart. Be good for Mommy." Nyla rubbed her ears, the irony of the scene grating on her nerves. Without a word, she turned to leave. "Don't forget." Vicki's strained voice rang out behind her. "I've always been the one begging for help for your brother. Do you have any idea how much he's suffered in prison? And your sister-in-law? I've been the one sending her money to survive. If you had even a shred of consideration for me, you'd listen to what I say!" Nyla froze mid-step, her gaze drifting up to the ceiling as a wave of helplessness rolled over her. After the incident all those years ago, her brother had been jailed, and her pregnant sister-in-law had been so traumatized she ended up hospitalized. The baby--already five months along--couldn't be saved, and her sister-in-law's health had never recovered. The family sold everything they owned, borrowed from anyone who'd listen, and still came up short. Eventually, their options ran dry, and even close relatives cut ties. Nyla's sister-in-law finally gave up, saying she didn't want to be a burden. Vicki's marriage into the wealthy Brooks family had brought temporary relief, but her sister-in-law's lingering illness had turned into a lifelong battle--one that drained both money and hope. And Vicki, to her credit, had been the one subsidizing the expensive treatments. Nyla's fingers curled and relaxed along the edge of her sleeve--a quiet gesture of powerless compromise. "Fine. I'll go." Vicki let out a relieved sigh, her tone softening. "There's a family dinner at the Brooks Mansion tonight. Leave work early and make sure you're there. You can't miss it." Nyla felt an immediate headache brewing. She'd planned to avoid Ethan for at least a little while longer, but her plans were thwarted before they'd even begun. "I know you hate going to these things, but think about me. Think about your little brother. He's just a child, Nyla. If you don't look out for him, who will? Please, just do this for me." Vicki's words left no room for refusal. Nyla was at a loss for words. Her mother asked her to protect Nolan, but who would protect her? The Brooks family wore their civility like sheep's clothing, but beneath it, she knew better. They were wolves--every single one of them--and none would spare her if given the chance. And yet, Nyla never voiced these grievances to Vicki. It would only be pointless. Vicki would call her immature, blame her for the Brooks family's hostility, insist that Nyla brought it all upon herself. So Nyla could only swallow her resentment. Later that afternoon, Nyla left work early as instructed. She took her time getting home and changed clothes, knowing Vicki would nitpick if she didn't look the part. She settled on a gray, short tweed jacket over a black skirt--poised, polished, and appropriately elegant. Nyla despised the cold. If it weren't for the Brooks family gathering, she would have bundled herself in two down jackets and called it a day. These social charades were a performance she loathed--hollow and suffocating. But Vicki insisted she need to integrate. Half an hour later, Nyla stepped out of the taxi in front of the imposing Brooks Mansion. Just as she turned to head inside, a sleek Maybach pulled up beside her. Nyla didn't intend to acknowledge anyone--until the license plate caught her eye. Ethan's car. The tinted window rolled down slowly, and two faces came into view--elegant, pristine, and altogether too perfect. "Hello, Nyla." A woman's voice broke the moment. "I'm Callie." Chapter 5 Rivals In Love Nyla had imagined meeting Callie in countless scenarios. Maybe it would happen during one of those stolen moments with Ethan, where they'd be caught red-handed. Or perhaps at Callie and Ethan's engagement party, where Nyla would dutifully offer her congratulations as a younger member of the Brooks family. But never like this--never with Callie deliberately approaching her. Nyla glanced at Ethan, suspicious. Was he behind this? But Ethan's gaze remained locked on her, his dark eyes betraying nothing. Those eyes had a way of pulling people in. She quickly looked away, her voice cold. "Hello. Did you need something?" Nyla didn't like the Brooks family, and she liked Callie even less. Callie was, after all, a rival in love. "Oh, nothing at all. I'd just heard Ethan had a breathtakingly beautiful niece, and I couldn't resist coming to meet you. I hope that's all right," Callie replied, her voice soft and syrupy, the kind of tone that made others instinctively want to protect her, a stark contrast to Nyla's cool tone. "You're exaggerating. I'm just an ordinary person." An ordinary person who was all too easy to manipulate. The moment the words left her mouth, Nyla felt Ethan's gaze on her--sharp, teasing. She met his eyes, her expression frosty, but he didn't look away. Instead, his lips parted, and his cool voice cut through the air. "Let's go. Don't waste time on people who don't matter." Callie offered an apologetic smile. "We'll head in, then. Would you like to join us? It's a bit of a walk." The words "people who don't matter" stung more than Nyla cared to admit. Last night, Ethan had been so close--so possessive he wouldn't let her leave--and now he was acting like a stranger. Huh. If Ethan chose acting as his career, he would win the Best Actor award, and Nyla would gladly be the one throwing tomatoes at his acceptance speech. Plastering on a bitter smile, she replied, "No thanks. I don't feel comfortable riding in a stranger's car." Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away. Behind her, the sleek Maybach sped off, its icy wind brushing her cheeks and nearly drawing tears from her eyes. But she refused to cry--not here, not at the Brooks family estate. The sprawling Brooks Mansion loomed ahead, its gardens and private villas spread across more than seven thousand square feet. It was the largest private residence in Ulares and an unyielding symbol of the Brooks family's influence. The family dinner was held in the main house of the estate, and by the time Nyla arrived, the room was already packed. Her eyes immediately found Ethan, standing beside Callie, who was chatting amicably with the wife of Ethan's second brother. They looked disturbingly at ease with one another. "Why are you so late? Didn't I tell you to leave work early?" The voice belonged to Vicki, who appeared beside Nyla in a black gown and white mink shawl, exuding effortless grace. Nyla forced a smile, though she detested the way Vicki had shed her real self to fit into the Brooks family mold. "It's a long drive. Besides, I'm here now, aren't I?" Her eyes roved over the crowd. Faces turned her way, some barely hiding their disdain. "Honestly, we shouldn't have bothered coming." Vicki tightened her grip on Nyla's hand, her voice dropping to a whisper. "If you listened to Ryland and made connections with the Fowler family, we wouldn't be in this position." Nyla's tone sharpened. "If you're in such a rush, feel free to go see my blind date yourself." "Don't be ridiculous!" Vicki hissed, glancing around nervously. The last thing she wanted was to cause a scene here. "Then stop nagging me," Nyla retorted. "Unless you want me to make a real fuss." Vicki bit back her frustration, unwilling to press further. Nyla slipped away and found an empty corner, determined to stay invisible until the endless family dinner wrapped up. But, of course, the peace didn't last. "Nyla, why are you sitting here all by yourself? Are you feeling out of place?" Callie's sugary voice rang in her ear. "I can show you around if you'd like." Chapter 6 Definition Of Decorum "Thank you, I appreciate your concern, Miss Higgins, but that won't be necessary." Nyla blinked leisurely, suppressing a yawn. The previous night had been relentless and exhausting, and as she sat in the quiet corner, weary and disinterested, she had thought no one would disturb her. Unexpectedly, Callie had come over, initiating conversation. As Nyla observed the gentle expression on Callie's face, a sardonic grin took root in her thoughts. She now understood Ethan's distaste for her; he evidently preferred someone more like Callie. "Leave her be, Callie. That woman is nothing but trouble. Who knows who she'll charm next? You're too good for her." These words came from Stella Brooks, the daughter of Ethan's second brother. Nyla turned toward Stella, her expression teasingly challenging. "Perhaps you're right. Maybe I should seek out Lukas for an enlightening chat in his bedroom. He'd probably appreciate it. And perhaps tomorrow I'll drop by Austen's place--I still know how to get in." Lukas Brooks, Stella's younger brother, had been captivated by Nyla from the start, wanting nothing more than to stay by her side. His family, convinced of Nyla's manipulative charm, met her with cold disdain. Consequently, Lukas found himself transferred to a distant boarding school. Austen Mitchell, the focus of Stella's unrequited affections, had grown up next door to Nyla. Their families were intertwined, and he always saw Nyla as kin, a fact unknown to many. This was the root of Stella's vehement animosity toward Nyla. Originally, Nyla endured her insults, but Stella's escalation to physical threats forced Nyla to retaliate. "Shame on you!" Stella seethed, her cheeks burning. "Don't think for a moment you belong in the Brooks household just because you share our roof! You're no better than your mother. It's clear now why your family crumbled--you thrive on being a shameless intruder!" Shadows flickered in Nyla's eyes, her fist tightening inside her sleeve, though her expression remained calm. "Has Austen actually accepted your advances? You seem to be the one relentlessly pursuing him. He freely opens his door to me. Can you say the same? Your efforts seem futile. He shows no interest in you." Stella's eyes welled up, her hand lifted for a slap, but Callie intervened just in time. "Stella, that was uncalled for. Why would you say such things?" Callie's voice carried the weight of a mentor scolding a student. Flushed and tearful, Stella bit her tongue following Callie's sharp scolding. With a restrained smile but firm voice, Callie maintained her composed aristocratic air. "You're under the Brooks' roof now, Nyla. It's high time to leave your old ways behind. We expect decorum in a family of the Brooks family's standing." Nyla noted Callie's attempt to shame her and wondered about her motives. Her secret with Ethan was safe. What was driving Callie's hostility? Was it just a personal dislike? Nyla's lethargy vanished, replaced by simmering annoyance. "Stella called me a shameless intruder and hurled insults, yet you don't accuse her of indecorum. I merely stated some facts, less harshly than her, and yet here you are, Miss Higgins, accusing me of impropriety." Nyla's voice was measured as she locked eyes with Callie, her laughter tinged with scorn. "So, this is your definition of decorum, Miss Higgins? Your upbringing must indeed be exemplary." Chapter 7 Lecture Me On Callie's Behalf? Callie's expression shifted, her eyes softening with a tinge of apology. "I didn't mean it like that," she said gently. "I just thought… it might help you to fit in better with the Brooks family." Nyla's gaze swept over the two women in front of her. Stella still looked like she was ready to tear her apart, while Callie's carefully composed friendliness had started to crumble. Suddenly, the family dinner didn't seem so dull after all. One person warned her not to dream too big about the Brooks family, and the other subtly reminded her of her place as an outsider. How delightfully amusing. "And what does that have to do with you, Miss Higgins?" Nyla asked, standing abruptly. A sly smile curved her lips as she added, "Stella does have a point, though. Who knows who I'll charm next? Maybe one day… Ethan will end up in my bd too. Instead of worrying about me, Miss Higgins, you might want to keep an eye on yourself." The smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Without waiting for a response, Nyla turned and strode toward the garden. "You bch! How dare you even think about Uncle Ethan!" Stella's shrill voice pierced the air. "Callie, see? She doesn't deserve your kindness. She's shameless!" Callie's eyes lingered on Nyla's retreating figure, all pretense of kindness gone. Her voice was cold and measured. "Just an outsider. Does she really think the Brooks family will protect her? Let's see how long she lasts." The garden, though chilled by the winter air, offered a quiet sanctuary to Nyla. Dinner still hadn't been served--Roger Brooks, Ethan's father, hadn't arrived yet. Nyla was grateful she wasn't particularly hungry. Otherwise, she might have had an outright clash with Vicki and left. Most of the flowers had withered, leaving the once vibrant landscape barren and forlorn. She studied the decayed flowers, finding an odd comfort in their desolation. Settling onto a swing tucked in the corner of the garden, Nyla pushed herself back and forth lightly, lost in thought. The Ethan situation was spiraling. If things ended between them now, her carefully laid plans would collapse. When she first approached Ethan, she'd told herself it was all calculated--a means to an end. But somewhere along the way, her emotions had betrayed her. She'd been starved of love for so long that the taste of it--however fleeting--had made her greedy. She didn't want to let him go. "Do you think you can hide out here after stirring trouble?" Ethan's voice cut through the stillness, sharp yet calm. "Do you think the Brooks family is that forgiving?" Nyla froze for a second before resuming her lazy swaying. The light from the house spilled onto her figure, casting her in an ethereal glow that made her seem almost otherworldly--a delicate flower in a crumbling garden. She tilted her head slightly, her hair spilling across her chest, and smiled faintly. "So, are you here to lecture me on your future fiancée's behalf?" Her eyes, glimmering with playful defiance, locked onto his. Ethan hated and loved those eyes--the mischievous glint that made her look like a sly little fox, always drawing him closer. "You're getting bolder." "If that's your reason, you can save your breath," Nyla retorted, bitterness threading her words. "I won't apologize. And you don't have to remind me of my place either. Whether the Brooks family hates me or not is none of your concern. After all, I'm just… insignificant, right?" Ethan's expression darkened instantly. He crossed the distance between them in a few long strides and pulled her down onto his lap as sat on the swing, its frame graning under their combined weight. "Have you already forgotten who was in my b*d yesterday, pleasing me?" Nyla's eyes widened as she struggled against him, "Let go of me! Ethan, this is the Brooks Mansion. Someone will see!" ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &3&	LEARN_MORE	https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-e	Heat Novel A	https://www.facebook.com/100089743291944/	609	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	fbweb.moboreader.net	IMAGE		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-ena255_2-0124-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=934080944896999&exdata=EC8FD1970BAC50A853A31EFA5D6420514C73D8AF35797D12	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/474574983_3892544514322054_5225531646717580022_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=CTH4Eobv2FUQ7kNvgFFGQqE&_nc_oc=Adgt3sXtBZoQCLyo0GabH8jT96PzN1AXQP1mVEd_a3ySLwYU5TwK1_tudCqz6_2mlLRnqmLGWKKllBSp04YrtQ5k&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AASiA8mJsMWWlCw6lKgmWGf&oh=00_AYD5x-oJ37K35GM0rOASjrlZok8Lr8R_Psnxx4rRZmenZw&oe=67CBB706	PERSON_PROFILE	Heat Novel A	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
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