8558 Book(s) Related to men of the harem chapter 60

At seventy-two, Richard Hayes finally asked my mother for a divorce.

He thought he was setting himself free.

He did not know Eleanor Hayes had been waiting ten years for him to say the words.

By sunset, his new woman would be calling my mother cruel.

By winter, he would be standing on her porch with two suitcases and nowhere soft to land.

And my mother, who had spent nearly half a century opening doors for him, would finally learn how peaceful a locked door could sound.

I died once. Madison shoved me into a zombie horde and watched them tear me apart.

She was crying, saying, "You have a duty to save everyone," and then she ran.

Now I'm back. Twenty-eight hours until the virus leaks.

She's still sitting in the front row, smiling at me: "Ethan, you're such a good person."

This time around, I decide who saves who.

This life, I'm only the Grim Reaper.

In a decaying city apartment building, law-clerk Maya Carter is drawn to the sealed door of 5B—an address that should not exist, yet keeps receiving late-night deliveries and whispering back from the dark. Behind the rumors of a haunted unit lies a battered woman in hiding, and a chilling hunt led by men who weaponize authority, gaslight women living alone, and turn silence into a trap. Tense, claustrophobic, and razor-sharp, the story moves through dim hallways, yellow light under a door, bruised wrists, broken locks, and the fierce urgency of survival.

Lunar Depletion Syndrome. Seven days.
That was my death countdown. And my Alpha mate Kael was still threatening me, demanding I use the last of my life force to save my sister.
On our third anniversary, he had given me a surgical consent form and dissolution papers as gifts.
How laughable.
Three years ago he had said my eyes sparkled like stars. Three years later he wanted me to close them forever.
They all said I had finally matured, learned the spirit of sacrifice expected of an older sister. The joke was, I hadn't been moved by love.
I was just tired.
Why struggle when death was inevitable?
Rather than dying alone in the wilderness, it was better to die on the operating table and become the perfect sacrifice in their story.

I met my future husband from thirty years later in a late-night diner. He knows every hidden habit and secret of mine. Mistaking the star quarterback for my destined love, I endured endless ambiguity and humiliation from him and his stepsister. But when he abandoned me in front of the whole school, I finally learned the truth — the man meant to love me for a lifetime was never him.

Everyone says he loved me more than anything. So I chose to answer that love with death.

Forbes cover stories, tearful speeches at charity galas, shutting down Fifth Avenue every Valentine's Day just to watch fireworks with me. They said he ruled a business empire but would kneel in front of the entire world and call me his reason to live.

I used to believe it.

Until I discovered my perfect husband had built another home with another woman. A warm one, filled with laughter and his child.

So I chose to disappear the night the storm swallowed everything.

They say he spent three days on his knees at the cliff's edge, screaming my name into the black ocean. The man worth billions couldn't even find his wife's body.

When the rescue team recovered that burned-out car, he finally opened the safe I'd left for him. Inside was a positive pregnancy test and a divorce agreement that would never be signed.

By then, nothing mattered anymore.

The five of us were dragged into a twisted nightmare.
The game rules were absolute: Kill the Boss. All members survive. Total escape.
Luckily, we each spawned into the game with a supernatural perk.
Relying on our powers and our bond, we spent six grueling hours tearing the massive, horrific beast apart.
All we had to do was step into the extraction portal to wake up in Oregon.
My friends were screaming in victory, already planning our celebration at Voodoo Doughnuts.
Instead, I was frozen. My heart wasn't racing with adrenaline anymore; it was cold. Absolute zero.
Because my real perk tracked the Boss status.
Floating in the center of my vision, cutting through the shadows, were two lines of text that only I could see:BOSS STATUS: ALIVE.DISGUISED. The monster wasn't dead. It was standing right here, wearing the face of one of my best friends!

In seven years of marriage, I miscarried five times. I nearly died on the operating table.

My husband, Lorenzo Castellano—the mafia king who controlled the entire East Coast—gripped my blood-stained hand and choked out: "It's okay. You're all I need."

I believed him.

Until our anniversary, when I smelled her perfume on his shirt and discovered the truth: his sister-in-law had given him a three-year-old son—those same deep brown eyes I'd bled five times trying to create.

The cruel irony? Just the day before, two pink lines had appeared on a pregnancy test.

That night, the explosion lit up the entire ocean, our private yacht burning like a funeral pyre.

The man who made all of New York's underworld tremble finally learned what it meant to lose.

He lost his wife.

And the child he would never know existed.

The day after Lucian was titled Duke, he locked down the estate to find the woman who climbed into his bed.
In my first life, I claimed the honor. He grabbed my hand and sneered, "That woman has a scar."
I froze to death in the ice cellar.
In my second life, Martha slashed her own hand and stepped forward. He ripped her collar open. "She has a cross tattoo on her chest. Do you?"
His hounds tore her throat out in the snow.
Now we're in our third life. The Duke just issued a three-day ultimatum, dead certain that the woman is hiding in the Duchess's wing.
Martha and I stared at each other. We're the only two maids serving the Duchess.

Twenty years ago, four-year-old Alicia vanished from a park, falling from Connecticut's wealthiest heiress to an orphan overnight. Twenty years later, her birth parents find her working at a coffee shop, bringing her back to a life of luxury.

But behind the fairy tale reunion lurks deadly danger. A mysterious guardian angel named Gabriel begins sending her prophetic warnings about her family's impending doom. Yet Alicia, drunk on newfound happiness, dismisses these as mere hallucinations.

The price of her disbelief is devastating. Her father dies in a horse-riding accident at the country club. Months later, her mother perishes in a car crash on her way to a charity gala. Shattered by grief and guilt, Alicia leaps from a hospital rooftop in despair...

Only to wake up back on the day her parents found her.

This time, she vows to heed Gabriel's every prophecy and save her family. But as she follows the angel's guidance, she discovers that fate's wheels may not be so easily stopped...

The real test has only just begun.

My mom ran an exclusive underground fertility clinic. Her dark red serum smelled like rotting blood, yet the rich still lined up with massive checks for her "perfect designer embryos."
I’d watch her lock desperate young surrogates into a soundproof room. A few minutes later, the whole floor would shake.
Strangely, when the girls stumbled back out—looking entirely drained and aged by years—they would weep and kiss my mom’s hands in gratitude.
It never made sense to me.
Until the day I saw a pitch-black mass frantically clawing just beneath a surrogate's flat stomach.
I finally knew what kind of "embryos" my mom was actually planting inside them.

I died on my birthday.

While kidnappers shattered my limbs and violated me to death, my family was throwing a grand party for my sister Chloe—yes, we shared the same birthday, but only hers was worth celebrating.

I called my father for help. He sneered and hung up: "Stop using this pathetic kidnapping stunt to ruin Chloe's birthday."

I called my fiancé Mark. He said with disgust: "If you're going to die, do it somewhere far away."

In the final second before the flames consumed me, I finally understood—

I was never loved in this family.

And now that I'm truly dead, now that they've discovered Chloe hired those men to kill me, now that the truth has been exposed to the world...

Will they regret it?

Or will they, as always, continue to favor Chloe and blame everything on me—the dead one?

On our seventh anniversary, Jeffrey brought his mistress home for dinner.

Calla wore my dead mother's necklace and called me a "boring housewife" while I cooked for them. Jeffrey laughed, saying I was lucky he kept me around since I'd never contributed anything to our marriage.

What he didn't know? I'd given up my six-figure tech career to nurse him back from his car accident. Sacrificed everything while he treated me like his personal servant.

For seven years, I endured his cheating and cruelty, thinking love meant sacrifice.

I was wrong.

When I left him the divorce papers, Jeffrey screamed that I'd come crawling back within a week.

But when I never came back, he was the one who lost his mind.

When the armored car had room for only one passenger, Damian Russo chose me.

I was saved, but Lilia Brown didn't make it. She bled out in the crossfire, her body left in the rubble. Damian pretended he didn't care and married me as planned.

For three years, he made me pay for her death—beating me, starving me, blaming me for the fact that she was gone.

In the end, he drove us both off a cliff instead.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the docks on the night of the ambush. This time, I stepped aside and let him save the woman he truly loved.

The Solarien family had two daughters.
Aurelia, the younger, was their pride and joy, soon to marry Duke Lysander beneath a reputation she had never earned: the so-called genius enchantress.
I, Vespera, was nothing more than the family's hidden workhorse, locked in a basement and valued only for what I could produce.
For years, I churned out enchanted gear to fund their lavish life while they used me as a stepping stone for Aurelia without a trace of guilt.
I let them bleed me dry, clinging to the faint hope that they might someday treat me like family.
Then, on the eve of my wedding, my parents stole the gown I had spent three years pouring my blood and sweat into, all so Aurelia could make a grand impression.
They threatened my fiancé's life and forced me to cut my wrist, using my blood to reverse the runes and attune the enchantment to her instead of me—even though the backlash could cripple my magic for life.
The moment I watched my blood soak into that gown, I gave up on my family for good.
For all the family pride they fought so desperately to protect, there had never been room for me.

On the night of Reeve’s birthday, I drove to his family’s coastal estate with a premium ribeye and a bottle of Pinot Noir, ready to give him a romantic surprise.
But the rug was shifted three inches, and a single drop of dark blood hid in the floorboards. Before I could run, a gun barrel pressed against the back of my head.
The man was impeccably dressed and terrifyingly calm. Upstairs in my bathtub lay the corpse of his pregnant wife.
He ordered me to help him dispose of the body and cover up the crime. My only thought was to stall until my husband got home.
That is, until he spoke—and revealed the root of this massacre. Everything was my husband's fault.

On Halloween night, a sharp stench of chlorine and cheap booze woke me up.
I opened my eyes to a man grinning at the bedroom door.
It was my husband, David, soaking wet and showing off the liquor he’d vanished hours ago to buy.
I cursed him out, called him a liar, and demanded a divorce. He just kept that idiotic smile.
Then my phone rang. It was his best friend, Mark.
"Claire, David drowned drunk in the pool!"

Five years ago, my family burned to death in an "accident."

My loving husband Clifford signed the papers himself—shipped me off to a mental institution without a second thought.

Inside, Becky carved up my face with shattered glass. The same orphan I'd put through school. Then she rebuilt herself to match my features and stole my life—my husband, my son, everything.

Now she marched into the clinic where I scrub floors, dragging my biological child behind her, demanding I apologize to him like some servant.

She has no idea what kind of monster she created.

Seven years married. Seven years reading minds. Still ended up the biggest joke in New York's underworld.

My husband Dante—Mafia boss—put that ring on my finger thinking, "This should be Elena's."

Seven years taking bullets for him. Seven years tortured for him. All I got was his cold contempt.

Then Elena came back with a kid. I became trash.

"Victoria, you disgust me." He crushed me under his boot, had me beaten bloody—all for her.

That's when my heart died.

I didn't explain. Just watched the clock.

Three hours until the boat leaves.

Dante, we're done. Forever.

I was accused by my beloved Alpha, Kael, of "spiritual mark plagiarism," and he even added the "soul-burning curse" to the blazing fire. He whispered, "This is all for our future."

Before I jumped off the cliff, I finally understood — this was all just to awaken my bloodline power.

After the fall, the blood moon cracked open, and black light enveloped me. To my shock, I was reborn seven days before the trial, with the Shadow Queen bloodline awakening within me.

Upon my return, I found Kael still making “spirit herb soup” for me every day. I secretly poured the soup into a flowerpot, and the flower instantly withered. The doubts in my heart grew clearer.

At the Moonlight Spring, I caught him and Lyra in an intimate moment. When I confronted him, Kael said, "I got close to her for you." He said it so casually, yet my heart was shattered like glass.

In this entangled web of love and betrayal, can I succeed in my revenge?

The day I died, my sister wore the wedding dress I had always dreamed of, and married my boyfriend.
My family felt no sorrow over my disappearance.
My brother suspected I deliberately avoided blessing my sister.
My silent father believed I was malicious, unwilling to see my sister surpass me.
My mother called me ungrateful and demanded I apologize to my sister.
They didn't care if I was alive.
They were only worried that my absence would sadden my sister by denying her my blessing.

Riley
New name, new look, new life. I've been careful to keep my past at bay. The last thing I needed was the stranger with those calm discerning eyes to cross my path. I must avoid him at all costs, even if he haunts my dreams and sends waves of heat across my skin. My focus is survival, not lust. Not even if he ignited a longing I'd never thought possible.

Draven
A mission. Find the missing girls and bring the perpetrator to justice. The retributive kind. I've grown used to the shadows but I am drawn to her light. Moth to a flame, the only way to quell my curiosity is to satiate it. But not too much. Not completely.

TEASER:
You want me, don’t you?” A simple question that warranted a simple answer.
“Should I have had you checked for a head injury?” he scoffed, a swift blow that knocked the wind out of my lungs and I realised I had been holding my breath. My lips parted, and my chest heaved, working overtime to replenish my body’s oxygen from those few moments of starvation.
Steeling my spine, I stepped forward, invading his space, oblivious to the eyes that were thrown our way. Or was I imagining that? Draven didn’t budge, a perfectly shaped brow elevated as he considered my movement with little interest. There wasn’t a single flicker of emotion to cross his features, not even that Godforsaken misleading smile made an appearance.
“Then you’ve no reason to threaten any man I may find interesting.” I breathed the words slowly, erotically.

She was forced to accept a marriage proposal from a strange billionaire to pay her huge debt and to take back her inheritance left to him when her mother died.

"I only have two questions," she said. "The first question is this: if I sign it, does it mean that I don't need to pay my debt?"

Mike: "Yes. And your second question...?"

Crystal: "Okay, I haven't reached the legal age for marriage yet, so even if I sign it, it won't take effect. Is that right?"

Nathan quickly raised his hand and said, "If I say that it is effective, no one will dare to say that it isn't. Do you believe that?"

"I suppose so," Crystal admitted. She hesitated for a moment, and then she signed the marriage certificate.

Months later, she asked for a divorce from him. He stared at her in silence, then he uttered, "Have I ever told you how much I love you?"

"What does that have to do with our divorce?" Crystal asked.

"I'm only asking because I care about you," Nathan murmured.

Suddenly, tears began to stream down Nathan's face.

"I'll be happy if you say that you care about me," Nathan continued. "Why must you torture me this way? Haven't I done enough to prove my love for you?"

She was stunned hearing his confession and words stuck on her throat.

Nathan carried on with his little speech. He said, "I have died once, and the fear of death has no hold on me. But if you admit that you care for me, then I will live for you! So, please, love me once, and I will be at your disposal!"

I was dying — and he was loving someone else.
I left.
Now he wants me back… but will I let him?

He filled my head with lies.
Then he set my world on fire.

Gavril Vaknin.
Richer than God.
Crueler than the devil.

And if he has his way…
My new fake husband.

A chance meeting turns into a once-in-a-lifetime offer.
The billionaire don needs a blank slate to turn into his perfect politician’s wife.
I’m homeless and desperate—what do I have to lose?

But Gavril is hiding secrets. Cloaked in lies.
Stepping into his world is a one-way ticket to a hell I won’t survive.

Did I do the right thing?
Or did I just sell my soul to a monster?

Beatrice has never been someone to take things lying down. After being kidnapped by two men and thrown in the back of a car, she's already thinking of ways to make them regret their actions. She soon finds out these men are werewolves, tasked with bringing her to their pack because she’s someone’s fated mate.
Her. A human. Fated to be with a werewolf? That couldn’t be right.
As a human, there's no way she can escape from this mate-thing they are adamant she accept. That is… until she decides to trust the vampire in the packhouse dungeon. With his help, surely they can both escape their fates as prisoners of the Bluemoon Pack.

The first thing they took was my baby.

The second was my parents.

The third was my freedom, my eyes, and every reason to live.

My husband gave me to three men on our anniversary. He chained me in a doghouse while his mistress laughed. He fed me my own son’s remains and called it mercy.

He said I was dirty. He said I deserved it.

But the DNA test he trusted was a lie. The video was staged. And the woman he’s about to marry is the one who destroyed us all.

I tried to die. Four times.

Now I’m done trying.

They put a dead woman in the ground. They’re about to find out she brought hell back with her.

Lena was punished for a crime she didn’t commit just to save her twin sister. But in return she was betrayed and rejected by her own destined mate, and then, worse, she was exiled from her own pack to the Darmos College.
There, her life changed when she met three hot alpha roommates.
Kai- the hot hockey player; Lucas, the doctor of the college; and Adrian, the biology professor.
“Little mouse, You are not only just our roommate—but our mate,” Lucas whispered in her ears, while rubbing her pink lips. She couldn’t believe and tried to push him away.
Suddenly, she felt another arm around her waist, pulling her closer to his bare chest body. “Whether you believe it or not, You are ours.” Kai, leaned in, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered.

They said an Omega didn't belong in their elite military academy. They were right—I didn't belong. I was meant to destroy it.
I was Celia, the scholarship nobody, the punching bag for five ruthless Alpha brothers who ruled the school like gods. The Hale brothers made my life hell just because I dared to be smarter than them. They humiliated me, tormented me, nearly killed me.
Then they murdered the only person who tried to help me.
"You think you can compete with us?" Zaxer's breath was hot against my ear as he held me over the rooftop edge. "You're nothing but a pathetic little Omega."
"Then why are you so threatened by me?" I whispered back, watching his eyes darken.
They let me fall. Krystal, the friend I trusted, kissed my tormentor while I plummeted to my death.
But I didn't die. I got my wolf. And with her came a hunger for vengeance that burned hotter than any mate bond.
Now I'm back, and the game has changed. I know their secrets, their weaknesses, their guilty consciences. They think they can corner me in empty classrooms, threaten me with those piercing stares and brutal words?
"Hit me," I dared Zaxer in front of everyone, my voice steady as steel. "Show them all what kind of Alphas you really are."
He couldn't. Because for the first time, they realized something: the broken Omega they tortured has teeth now.
They ruined me once. Killed for me twice.
But when Kaiden growled those three words—"You're our mate"—everything I thought I knew shattered.
Because how do you destroy the ones fate bound you to?
Revenge never tasted so savage. Love never cut so deep.

**"She's just the woman I threw away."

"Then from today on... she's my Luna."**

Lucia never expected her fated mate to abandon her for his first love.

Everyone waits to watch her become the biggest joke in the werewolf world.

Instead...

The pack's Alpha arrives at her door.

"Come home with me."

He gives her respect.

A family.

A title.

And the mark her ex refused to give for five long years.

But watching his adoptive father cherish the woman he rejected slowly drives Antony insane.

He wants her back.

He'll do anything to reclaim her.

Only to hear Severus say—

"Kneel. She belongs beside me now."

Just as Lucia begins to embrace her new life, a conspiracy capable of destroying every werewolf pack begins to unfold...

Three months before I marry billionaire Adrian Vale, I receive a text from an unknown number.

DON’T MARRY MY HUSBAND.

The sender claims to be Celeste Vale—Adrian’s first wife.

There’s only one problem.

Celeste has been dead for four years.

I assume someone is playing a sick joke until the messages reveal secrets no stranger should know. Details about Adrian’s body. His first marriage. The night Celeste died.

Then one message warns me not to eat a box of chocolates arriving at my office.

The chocolates are poisoned.

Suddenly, Adrian’s protection becomes suffocating. Security follows me everywhere. I’m moved into the sprawling estate where Celeste once lived. Doors are locked. Cameras fail. Someone enters my bedroom while I sleep.

And the dead woman keeps texting me.

But the most terrifying discovery isn’t that someone wants me dead.

It’s an old photograph hidden among Celeste’s belongings.

A photograph of me taken eight years before I ever met Adrian.

Adrian recognizes it.

Because our first meeting wasn’t an accident.

Now I don’t know who to trust—the dead woman warning me away from my fiancé, or the dangerously powerful man who admits he searched for me long before I knew his name.

Adrian swears he didn’t kill Celeste.

I want to believe him.

But the deeper I dig into his family’s past, the more women I find who vanished, died, or were silenced after learning secrets they were never meant to know.

And Celeste may have died trying to make sure I wasn’t next.

I buried my brothers.
Burned my name.
And disappeared from a world built on violence.
They once feared me as the Black Reaper — Klein, former mercenary commander.
Now I live quietly in a crumbling villa, renting out rooms just to stay afloat.
Then Carol moves in.
Brilliant. Beautiful.
Hunted by powerful cartels.
She assumes I’m nothing more than a bitter, sloppy landlord —
until armed men break into her room, and I kill them with my bare hands.
Now Carol knows my true power.
Instead of running, she forces her way deeper into my life,
making me her driver, her protector, and her unwilling shield against the hunters chasing her.
But the West family — the ones who murdered my entire team — have finally tracked her down.
To protect Carol, I must become the man I swore I’d never be again.
“They took everything from me once,” I say quietly.
“This time, I won’t leave anyone standing.”

“I’ll give you anything, Elsa—money, a car, a house, jewelry—just agree to the transplant. Ria really needs it.” I couldn’t believe his audacity. Was this really my husband, trying to bargain my body to save his fiancée?
“Sorry, I’m pregnant. I can’t donate a kidney,” I said, my voice shaky but determined. Anger boiled inside me, but I knew he was powerful. The pretend marriage was over, and his true colors were revealed. Afraid of what he might do to me, I didn’t yell or fight him. I just wanted to escape this nightmare, to break free from this cage I was trapped in.
But his reaction was even more chilling. He looked at me with no emotion.
“We’ll have an abortion.” His words hit me like a bomb. I couldn’t believe how coldly he spoke about ending his own child’s life.

The acrid smell of the bullet piercing my skull hadn't even dissipated when I came back to life.

I was reborn back to the third week of the apocalypse. At this time, the tyrant of the fifth checkpoint was stripping me of my right to pass and kicking me into a horde of thousands of zombies.

In my past life, I also died here. But until the moment of my death, these fools didn't know that—within the skulls of those terrifying zombies lay divine crystal cores capable of "freezing time"!

Having been given a second chance at life, I did not run away.

I calmly snapped the neck of the first monster and pried the glowing key out of the rotten flesh.

The instant I forcibly froze the torrential, highly corrosive acid rain in mid-air, I knew that this apocalyptic hunting game... had shifted in power dynamics.

For seven years, I told myself James wasn't cold; he simply loved quietly. Then my car died after midnight, and he told me to call a cab. When I earned the promotion I had chased for two years, he forgot my message. But when his ex said she felt sick, he left work with medicine in one hand and her exact coffee order in the other. That was when I understood: my husband knew how to care. He had simply never chosen to care for me. By our anniversary, I would stop waiting, leave his gift on the table, and move out. Only then would James begin to love me—and by then, it would be too late.

Fourteen years I gave him.
Every storm I shielded him from.
Every mess I cleaned up for him.
I made him a king of Manhattan.
On my forty-second birthday, he brought my enemy's daughter to my party.
He forged my medical records.
He tried to strip me of my trust.
He thought I was done.
He forgot one thing: I made him.
And I have a son he never knew existed.

My husband's first love, Celine, lured me to a remote cabin under the guise of an "apology."
 
She then poured gasoline all over the porch and locked the door from the outside.
 
In my past life, the moment the fire began to spread, I desperately called my husband, Julian—a fire captain—for rescue.
 
He smashed the door open and saved me.
 
Ironically, Celine's scheme backfired, and she died of smoke inhalation outside.
 
Yet, Julian pinned her blood debt entirely on me.
 
He kept me at the hospital with his hypocritical comfort, only to tear off his disguise the day I was discharged. He tied me to a pillar in an abandoned warehouse and poured gasoline at my feet.
 
As the flames ignited, my ten-week-old unborn child and I were swallowed by the raging fire.
 
Julian's eyes were bloodshot. Facing my agonizing screams, his gaze held nothing but pure, unadulterated hatred:
 
"If you hadn't gone mad with jealousy and locked the door from the inside, Celine would never have died! Stop playing the victim!"
 
"The pain she suffered before she died... I'm going to make you pay for it ten times, a hundred times over!"
 
In the blazing light, he watched coldly as I was burned alive, turning into a charred corpse.
 
When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the exact moment the fire started to spread.

Our ceremony was ambushed underground. One exit. Corvin was the only one who could move fast enough to carry someone out.
In my last life, he chose me — and left Niamh behind. She didn't make it. He spent five years after that making sure I understood what that meant. Every day I woke up was a day she couldn't. When I finally ran out of ways to leave quietly, I chose a window that faced east and walked into it.
Now I'm back. Same corridor, same chaos, same choice.
This time, I said: "Take Niamh."
The way his shoulders came down — like something he'd been holding for years, finally put down — told me everything five years together never did.
He promised to come back. He was already moving when he said it.
I knew I had to get out myself. But the ferals who'd killed Niamh last time found my corridor before I made it to the stairs.

I was just on the phone with my husband. He was stuck in traffic, apologizing for being late to our anniversary dinner. Forty minutes later, detectives are at my door, claiming he died in a crash three days ago. If Silas is dead, who just sent me a text?

After I took in my first love, she promised she'd always be good to me.
But after my mother died in a car accident, I found her in our home—with another man.
She told everyone Colin was her true love, that I was just a little brother she never wanted, and that I was the one who couldn't let go.
Everyone turned against me. My father had a stroke from the rage. Colin even had someone run me over—cost me an eye.
Seven years later.
I stood outside a convenience store holding flowers when I saw them.
Audrey's daughter looked at me with pity. "Mom, that man only has one eye... Is he selling flowers? Should we buy some?"

“I, Alpha Daniel Caldwell, reject you, Amber Osborne, as my mate.”
On the day of my wedding, my destined mate, Alpha Daniel, publicly severed our bond.
And then, he completed his marriage registration with Camelia Hodges.
As the crowd erupted into mocking laughter and ridiculed me, Beta Theodore West stepped forward, pulling out a diamond ring. With heartfelt sincerity, he proposed to me.
Even if he wasn’t my fated mate.
Feeling moved, I nodded and consented to marry him. When I was seven months pregnant, I was ambushed by a rogue wolf pack. In the end, Theodore arrived with his army, saving my life.
When I regained consciousness, he was sitting beside me, his eyes filled with sorrow. He told me that the baby hadn’t made it and that I would never be able to have pups again.
Devastated, I broke down. He wrapped his arms around me, and with tears streaming down his face, Theodore apologized for not being able to protect me. He swore to stay by my side forever.
Six years later, however, I