3149 Book(s) Related to Of Wolves and Men

The day he proposed, Atticus knelt before me, holding the Hale family's heirloom necklace.
I thought I had finally survived the ordeal.
After eight years of unrequited love, being humiliated by his sister, nitpicked by his mother, and mocked by the city's socialites for being unworthy of the Hales... Until this very moment, when he personally fastened the heirloom around my neck. Everyone saw it. I, Clara, was finally accepted by the Hale family.
Tears in my eyes, I said yes, thinking it was the happiest moment of my life.
But just days after putting on that necklace, bizarre red rashes crawled up my neck. My pale skin rotted away piece by piece, and my internal organs went into irreversible failure.
The most absurd part? The exact same day I started rotting, his dying mother miraculously cured her terminal illness, and his sister's half-destroyed face was restored to flawless perfection.
Disfigured and barely looking human, I threw myself off the Harbour Bridge—
I opened my eyes, and I was back on the day of the proposal.

In a sleek design world split between polished appearances and buried cruelty, Mara Ellison has spent years trapped behind a voice no one wanted to hear. While her family rewrites her illness and her fiancé speaks over her in the name of love, stolen records, public humiliation, and old betrayals force her to reclaim her life. Quiet but cutting, this is a story of emotional abuse, identity theft, and hard-won selfhood—framed by rain-soaked streets, hospital corridors, cold glass conference rooms, and a woman finally stepping into the light with her own voice.

The day college decisions came out, my parents bought my twin sister a Porsche.
It was my eighteenth birthday too. Nobody brought it up. I stood in the doorway in my diner uniform while the whole room sang her name.
That night the four of them went out to dinner to celebrate her. The car only sat four, so my father handed me a hundred dollars and told me to order myself something at home.
Four days later, six thousand four hundred dollars vanished from my account. Two years of washing dishes, gone to her sorority dues. My mother's name was on the account, so it wasn't even illegal.
I didn't scream and I didn't beg. I went upstairs and clicked Accept on the full ride to MIT that had been sitting in my inbox for three days.
Nobody in that house ever wanted me. So I booked a one-way ticket, cut myself out of the family photo, and left my key on the shoe rack.
I wasn't coming back. Not for graduation. Not for any of them.

Five years into living with my stepbrother Gideon, the scholarship girl he sponsored moved into our house.
To repay his "generosity," she made a habit of slipping into his bed at night. By day, she took it upon herself to "fix" my antisocial, withdrawn personality.
Three days before St. George Prep's graduation ceremony, she brought me a glass of juice wearing that nauseating sugar-sweet smile.
"You know, Charlotte, your peanut allergy is probably psychosomatic. You just need some exposure therapy. Let me help you get over it."
That night, my throat closed completely. She'd deliberately laced my drink with concentrated peanut extract.
I convulsed on the cold hardwood floor, vision tunneling as oxygen fled my lungs.
In the last second before darkness swallowed me whole, I clawed desperately toward the half-open door.
Standing in the hallway were my boyfriend Dylan and my stepbrother Gideon.
They simply watched me suffocate. Then Gideon calmly reached out and shut the door.
I died from anaphylactic shock.
Three months later, as a ghost tethered to this world, I watched her stride onto Stanford's campus. Wearing my clothes. Carrying my acceptance letter. Burning through my trust fund.
Through the crowd, I saw Gideon—my ice-cold, unreachable stepbrother—gently cradle her face and press his lips to hers.
Then I gasped awake.
I was back. Three days before graduation.

I was here because of missed periods and abnormal bleeding—a suspected threatened miscarriage.

When asked about our relationship, my boyfriend didn't even look at me.

"We're just classmates," he told the nurse.

He thought he was cutting ties with a worthless nobody so he could chase after a billionaire's daughter.

What he didn't know was... I was the heiress he was desperately looking for.

Six months ago, my parents started fostering a girl named Lila Mercer.
Six months ago, Mom repainted the guest room and strung fairy lights over the bed. My room still has the same furniture I've had since I was twelve.
Six months ago, Dad started coming home for Sunday dinner. Not for me. I'd been eating alone at the counter for years by then.
Six months ago, Mom posted a photo of the two of them at the farmers market. Caption: our family is growing. I saw it during third period and locked my phone hard enough to crack the case.
So when I picked up the family iPad tonight and a notification popped up from an app I didn't recognize, I wasn't shocked. Just tired of being right.
The app was called Beacon.

My father chose two vampires as marriage prospects for my sister and me.

One was an immensely powerful pureblood aristocrat.

The other was Cassian, crippled by a silver curse. Confined to a wheelchair, he was a laughingstock—wracked by phantom pains and constantly on the verge of madness.

In my past life, I chose Cassian.

I drained my own blood to ease his agonizing curse. I shielded him from the relentless mockery of the Vampire Court. I even gambled my life in werewolf territory to beg for his cure.

But he never seemed to get better.

I didn't care. I remember holding his hand and telling him, "It doesn't matter. No matter what happens to you, I will always stay by your side."

Until the accident. A pack of rogue werewolves ambushed us.

Cassian shoved me precisely into the path of their claws.

Just to shield my sister, Serena, from the fatal blow.

Silver claws completely shredded my throat.

Through my fading vision, I watched Cassian stand up from his wheelchair.

The terrifying aura of a Vampire Lord erupted from him, crushing the werewolves instantly. Countless night-thralls emerged from the shadows, dropping to their knees at his feet.

That was when I understood. He was never paralyzed, and he was never mad.

Because Serena hadn't chosen him, and because he wanted absolutely nothing to do with me, he faked the illness to disgust me for years.

Then, he used my life to save his true love.

"I'm sorry for deceiving you. But I couldn't just watch Serena die."

"Elara... whatever I owe you, I'll repay in the next life."

In the bone-piercing cold, I took my last breath.

When I opened my eyes, I was back on the exact day my father forced us to make our choice.

I waited five years for a heart transplant.
My mother—the Luna of our Pack, the healer everyone worships—gave it to someone else.
An orphan girl she took in. A girl who now calls her "Mom."
Ivy got my heart. She got a wolf. She got a mate and a wedding so grand the whole Pack attended.
Me? I watched from the corner, still dying, while my mother smiled for the cameras and accepted praise for her "selfless sacrifice."
When I finally snapped at the ceremony, she slapped me. Told me to apologize. Said I was embarrassing the family.
I'm her actual daughter. I'm the one who can't shift, can't feel a mate bond, can't survive another six months.
But sure. I'm the problem.
They wanted me to stay quiet and die gracefully.
I chose to make sure everyone sees who their perfect Luna really is.

My husband used my cottage to cheat on me. Fine. I found out, I drove three hours, and I walked into my own house to find his mistress wearing my dead grandmother's sweater.
She told me to leave.
He showed up, kissed her in front of me, then grabbed my arm and shoved me into the door frame.
That's when I had the asthma attack. He's known about my asthma for five years.
My inhaler rolled across the porch floor. His mistress picked it up, held it out, and told me to sign a statement saying I'd caused all of this. Then she'd give it back.
He looked at me on the ground and said: She's performing.
I'm sitting on the floor of my own grandmother's house, gasping, and my husband is telling the neighbors I'm acting.
Nobody thought to ask whose family manages every property on this coastline.

My childhood sweetheart, Henry, gave me a glass of milk the night before my Harvard interview.
I thought he cared.
Until I woke up with my waist-length hair hacked off and my brain drowning in sedatives.
Later, I found him at a cafe, laughing with the prettiest girl, Madison, in our class.
"You actually cut her hair? You're insane, Henry!" she giggled.
"Truth or dare, babe," I heard him. "She's fat anyway. But you need that Harvard spot, Madison."
The boy who promised to marry me traded my dream to impress someone else.
I didn't scream. I didn't cry.
Let him have his joke. I'm taking my life back.

On the night of my 28th birthday, my husband was stuck in the OR.
The man sitting across from me at dinner was his best friend, Ronan.
I got drunk. Half-asleep, I pulled a man who smelled exactly like Nate into my bed.
When morning broke, the truth did too—the man pinning me down was Ronan. He’d used my husband’s cologne.
"From the first time I saw you, I wanted to steal you from him."
Crying, I confessed everything to Nate over the phone. Dead silence for three seconds, then he hung up.
By the time I rushed home, Ronan was dragging two suspiciously heavy black suitcases out the door. And my husband... vanished off the face of the earth.

I was four months pregnant when the truck hit my car.
I woke up on a gurney outside the OR, bleeding, half-conscious, thinking my husband was saving my life. Then I heard him through the door.
"The baby's gone. Her right hand is finished—her career's over either way. Just take her kidney now and put it in Mia."
My mother agreed. My father told him to switch my architectural draft to Mia's name before Friday.
Mia. The sister they'd raised for twenty years while I was missing. The sister whose body was failing. The sister my husband had apparently been in love with the whole time I was married to him.
I was supposed to die on that table. I wasn't supposed to hear anything.
But my phone was in my coat pocket, and the voice memo app had never stopped recording.
And now I had a choice to make.

"I agree." I signed away my life to save the girl who framed me. My mate didn't even look up from her tears to notice I was dying. "Stop pretending. This much blood loss won't kill you," he said, storming out with her in his arms. What he didn't know? That contract wasn't a healing pact—it was an execution order. And I'd just started my 72-hour countdown to burn his entire kingdom down with me.

“Dad… please… help me…” I pleaded, my shattered ribs piercing my lungs, blood soaking the stretcher.
But Richard, the hospital's top surgeon and my biological father, didn't even glance at me. Instead, he rushed to the next bed.
“Don't be afraid, Chloe. I'm here,” he cooed to his stepdaughter, who merely had a tiny scratch on her arm. “Get the best equipment over here now!” he roared.
As the heart monitor flatlined and my soul left my broken body, I realized the chilling truth: in the choice between life and death, my father gladly let me die.

In order to rush to comfort his assistant whose apartment was leaking, Richard signed his name hastily without even glancing at the documents on the table.
I put away the divorce agreement with a wry smile.
When he and my son completely disappeared, he finally panicked.
Three months later .
He knelt down on the streets of Chicago in despair, begging me to remarry him.
My six-year-old son looked coldly at his biological father and said, "Get lost, you bad uncle! You don't deserve to be my dad!"

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?

Clara Hughs is an orphan who was working in a bar as a waitress where rich men come to pick up girls. She encountered a strange handsome man at the club one night, Ragnor Usiku, who rescued her from trouble with her employer. Everything changed, as Clara Hughs found herself drawn to this man. Will Clara love him the same when she discovers who he is? Will their love bring them peace or will it create obstacles for them? To know more read "Will You Still Love Me The Same"

Minerva “Mina” Hayes thought marrying Tristan Johnston meant forever—until the night their marriage was announced and he stood beside another woman, letting the world brand Mina as the shameless third party. Betrayed, pregnant, and abandoned, she vanished without a trace, vowing never to love him again.

Three years later, Mina returns—not as the broken woman he left behind, but as a powerful CEO with her own empire. Now, the billionaire who once destroyed her is desperate to have her back. But Mina has learned her lesson. This time, she refuses to be his hidden wife—she’ll be the woman who makes him regret everything.

Yet as buried truths begin to surface, the lines between betrayal and sacrifice start to blur… 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗧𝗿𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗻 𝘁𝗿𝘂𝗹𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗮𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝗿𝘂𝗶𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗹𝗶𝗳𝗲, 𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝗴𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘂𝗽 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗼 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝘁𝗲𝗰𝘁

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?

“You belong to me, Freya.”

“No,” I whispered, staring into his cold gray eyes. “I never belonged to anyone.”

Leopold Gray’s jaw tightened.

The most powerful man in the country wasn’t used to hearing the word no.

And that might be exactly why he became obsessed with me.

After losing her parents, Freya Raphael was raised inside one of the wealthiest families in the city.

To outsiders, she was the beloved niece of the Fergus family.

Behind closed doors, she was nothing more than a carefully controlled possession.

Every decision she made was monitored.

Every dream she had was taken away.

Every success she earned was stolen and handed to someone else.

But Freya learned long ago how to survive.

She smiles when she's angry.

She obeys when she wants to fight.

And she hides her sharpest claws behind the face of a perfect lady.

Then one reckless night changes everything.

After being betrayed and abandoned, Freya wakes up beside a stranger—a devastatingly handsome billionaire she never expects to see again.

Unfortunately, fate has other plans.

The stranger turns out to be Leopold Gray, the feared patriarch of the Gray family.

A billionaire kingmaker.

A ruthless empire builder.

A man powerful enough to destroy anyone who stands in his way.

And the very man her guardian plans to offer her to as a mistress.

Now Freya finds herself trapped between a possessive guardian who refuses to let her go, a dangerous billionaire determined to uncover her secrets, and a charming heir whose kindness may be hiding secrets of his own.

Everyone wants something from her.

Her beauty.

Her loyalty.

Her future.

But none of them realize that the obedient girl they think they control has been planning her escape for years.

Because Freya isn't just fighting for freedom anymore.

She's fighting for revenge.

And when Leopold finally discovers the truth about that unforgettable night...

Will he become the man who saves her—

Or the one who destroys her completely?

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.

"You're one hot surprise, Kristel!" "Fuck me harder!"
They lay contentedly on the carpet, and Kristel thought it was time to tell her husband about her pregnancy.
Her husband suddenly and coldly filed for divorce. Kristel was frozen as she could not believe her gentle husband had suddenly become so heartless.
"Fiona is back. You're just a bet I made with her."
"So the tenderness for me was all an illusion; in fact, you weren't in love with me?" Kristel heard her voice tremble.
Kristel quickly moved out of their mansion, her marriage to Galvin had originally come together because of the business relationship between the two families.
She had been secretly in love with Galvin for ten years and she knew that Galvin did not love her, but she was sure that through her efforts she would make Gavin fall in love with her.
While she completes her signature on the divorce papers, Galvin hesitates ...... will Kristel give him a second chance?

Emerald thought that she and Jace Higginson were divorced. After five years, she returns to the country to collaborate with his company and eventually takes her revenge. What will she do when she sees a different Jace, making her uneasy whenever they meet? What would she do when her supposed ex-husband was still her husband because he didn't file the divorce? Will Emerald give Jace his rights to their son whom she conceived before she left?

Being a Cinderella, I was forced to marry a rich man who was crippled. But I was shocked when I met him. He made me realize that I deserved nothing but him. Now I don't care about his health situation. All I want is him by my side.
That's all, I felt when I fall in love with him slowly, desperately and hopelessly. Until on the honeymoon, I finally found out, my husband who loves me dearly , met his first love who supposed to be dead. Will he leave me for her?

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.

In my past life, I was ruined by the transfer student at the werewolf academy. My fated mates were the triplets, the most popular figures at school, yet they all stood by her side.

The eldest of the triplets, Kai, my combat instructor who had always guided and cared for me, shielded her behind him.

The middle one was Jack, the campus heartthrob. We used to be inseparable, but now he ran errands for her.

The youngest was Leo, a musical prodigy who had been pursuing me, now obeying her every command.

Three men who once favored me above all else forced me to kneel and apologize for that transfer student.

Unable to defend myself, I was locked in an abandoned training room to reflect, and ultimately pushed off a cliff by the transfer student to my death.

Reborn, I vowed to stay far away from them and never participate in this ridiculous game again.

But when they learned I was about to transfer to the top-tier "Silver Moon Academy" for advanced studies, all three men panicked.

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.

"We can only take one more person! Any heavier and we ALL go down!"

In the middle of a raging forest fire, my fiancé Carter Hayes was piloting a fuel-leaking helicopter, forced to choose between me and my cousin Lily Sterling.

He chose me.

Lily was left behind in the inferno. She burned.

I thought surviving made me lucky — until my parents slapped me across the face at my wedding. "Why wasn't it YOU who died?"

Turns out, I was never the one they wanted to save.

Carter married me, then spent five years making me wish I'd died in that fire instead. He and my parents worked together, systematically stripping away my dignity, my career, and every reason I had to keep living.

Three years into my depression, I jumped from the top floor of the Hayes estate.

When I opened my eyes, I found myself back before the fire — before the helicopter took off, before Carter made his choice.

This time, I spoke first. "Take Lily."

If they all wanted me dead, then I'd give them exactly what they wanted.

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.

One hundred years married to Everett, and I've learned one thing: whenever he wants to push me into a corner, he throws the mate bond dissolution agreement in my face. Whenever my parents want me to cave, they hold the family name over my head.

They've always wanted the same thing — for me to hand over everything I have to my twin sister Rosalie, who's been sick her whole life.

I've fought it. I've grieved over it.

But when the doctor slid the diagnosis across the desk — Blood Depletion Syndrome, late stage, less than two weeks left — something in me just went quiet.

What's the point of fighting when you're already dead?

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.

My stepsister and I tumbled down the stairs together. As someone with a blood clotting disorder, my spleen ruptured—I was bleeding internally, desperate for surgery to stop it.
But my mother—the renowned chief of surgery—pulled every specialist from the ER. To consult on my stepsister's condition.
All she had was a sprained ankle. Not even a scratch. Yet mom insisted on running every test in the book. And me? Left alone on that cold floor, bleeding out, half my body already soaked in blood.
I clutched at her pants, begging her to save me. But she kicked my hand away and looked at me with pure disgust.
"Lily, are you really so desperate for a man's attention that you'd pull a cheap stunt like this? Your sister's foot is swollen—and you have the nerve to fake your death here?"
In the end, I died alone in a corner of that ignored ER.
But when they wheeled my cold body out of the morgue—and they finally learned about my clotting disorder—
That mother who claimed to hate me completely lost her mind.

It was my second year back in this house.
My name was Evelyn, the biological daughter who got lost in Central Park at seven.
During the ten years I stayed missing, I fed pigs on a remote farm in Eastern Europe. In weather that dropped to dozens below zero, I got beaten for working too slowly.
I did not get brought back until I was seventeen, covered in scars, returned to this so-called “home,” luxurious to the point of being blinding.
To be honest, every time I watched them sit on silk sofas and sip afternoon tea, then thought about the decade I spent crawling through hell, hatred made my teeth ache.
That hatred stood between us and made the house feel like an icebox. We lived under the same roof, yet we were not even as close as strangers.

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?"