110 Book(s) Related to duke shift

On her eighteenth birthday, Mia learned that the parents who had raised her for eighteen years were not her biological family. On the same day, she received an acceptance letter to a prestigious Academy of Magic.

Her adoptive parents revealed a shocking truth: she was a Shifter. To survive the dangers looming on the horizon, she had to enroll in the academy and unlock her hidden potential.

But from the moment she arrived, she realized she didn't belong.

Every student possessed a unique shifting form and extraordinary abilities. Mia, however, couldn't even perform the most basic transformation.

There, she met Draven, the last living dragon in the world.

As she grew closer to him, it seemed as though the entire academy turned against her.

The truth behind the war that changed the magical world may be far darker than she ever imagined.

And the only person she can truly trust is the very dragon everyone else fears and hates.

What she never expected was that Draven's instinct to protect her, and his possessiveness, would be far stronger than anything she was prepared for.

She asked for a tragic ending. She never expected to live it.
Emilia George is obsessed with books—especially the ones that hurt. The more heartbreaking the ending, the better. So when a mysterious, velvet-voiced bookstore owner offers her a rare, unknown title after her requested book goes missing, Emilia is intrigued. But the book is empty—save for one cryptic sentence in Gaelic.
When she reads the words aloud, Emilia and her best friend Gabby are thrown into the pages of the book—into a haunting, gothic world ruled by a dangerously alluring and half-mad Duke named Sebastian Everhart.

Now trapped in a story that’s still being written, Emilia becomes the Duke’s reluctant Duchess, her life unfolding across the blank pages. But this isn’t just a fantasy. Her family—twisted reflections of their real selves—have followed her into the tale, each of them scheming to betray the Duke and use Emilia as the key to steal his power.
As Emilia battles loyalty, deception, and a slow-burning romance with a man the world calls mad, she’s forced to question everything—including the cost of a great story.
Because the deeper she falls for Sebastian, the clearer one thing becomes:
This is a story destined for heartbreak. And she asked for it.

After dying in the crash of a flight to Berlin, what Joana didn't expect was to be reincarnated in the 16th century as the wheelchair-bound mistress of a Spanish marquis.
While she tries to adapt to her new life with its physical limitations, a marriage contract with the callous Duke of Barcelona will be her only chance of getting rid of her tormentor.
But what does Joana have to offer Fernando Casanova to make him accept the marriage for three months?
In this journey of redemption and second chances, when Joana remembers who she really is, she will know that feelings of pain and love are the guiding threads of her very existence.

To end two years of a long-distance marriage with my husband, Sutton Brennan, I quit my job and moved halfway across the state to join his top-tier medical center.
But from the moment I clocked in on day one, a nightmare awaited me.
IV pain pumps violently popped open in my hands, medication cabinets rejected my fingerprints, coffee machines sprayed me with boiling water, microwaves exploded in public, and the employee lockers locked me out entirely.
My colleagues laughed at me, calling me a walking disaster. The head nurse publicly berated me for being incompetent. And my husband, the man I trusted most, simply smiled his gentle smile and said, "You're just tense. Give it a few more days."
In my past life, I believed him. I gritted my teeth and held on until the bitter end—and ultimately died inside this very hospital.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back on my first day of work.

After being kidnapped by the biggest piece of shit humankind has ever known—Jason Deymar, the most hated Duke in the U.S.—I’m dragged to a prison built for Rogue Dukes.
To survive the prison while I discover who killed one of my closest friends, who died in here, I’m forced to make a pact with three of them. They’ll keep me safe… as long as I belong to them.
It’s supposed to be temporary—just until I find a way out of this hellhole. But when I catch them watching me in the dead of night, it feels anything but temporary. And it can’t be.
A Lady would never allow herself to get tangled up with Dukes. Unless they are the only thing keeping me safe.

Nivea Del Castano, a girl who often goes against her father's wishes. With her courage, she can always prove that her own choices are not wrong. Honesty is absolute for her, she doesn't care if she has to hurt anyone's feelings with her honesty. Until one day she found out that she was the reincarnated form of a girl who lived hundreds of years ago. Nivea could not escape, because running wherever her destiny would remain the same. Does Nivea still want to run? When her heart is set on Matias Vander Lawrence who makes her life more colorful.

Natalia Adamantine was the prized jewel of the capital of the Kingdom of Ducroft. As such, she was married to the Duke of Kristen, one of the most powerful men in the kingdom, tied to the Kin. Ten years later, she is throwing herself off a building, ending the misery of her life. Now, she's brought back to the past, the day she is being married to her husband. Unable to refuse the marriage, she plots a way to escape her fate and create a new life for herself.
Marvis Jane was an orphan with a secret who had his life change when the Crown prince of the empire makes him his secret weapon. Even though he would give his life for the crown prince, he soon becomes the scapegoat for the crown prince and is branded the murderer of the imperial family. He is rescued from the brink of death by a passerby who had as much distrust for him as he did for her.
Faced with an uncertain future, the two grudgingly work together, creating a bond unbroken by time or magic.

Art historian Vivian Indila has spent her life chasing knowledge and caring for her sick younger sister—but when she’s chosen to be one of the organizers of a prestigious Victorian masquerade ball held on Valentine’s Day, she knows this is the opportunity of a lifetime.
At the mansion where the first ball was held, Vivian is drawn by an antique mirror, and a simple touch changes her life forever.
The mirror transforms into a magical portal, sending her back to 1885, the year of the first masquerade ball. Suddenly, she finds herself in a world she only studied in history books.
But then she meets Lord Adrian Northbrook, the mansion’s original owner. He’s handsome, enigmatic, and nothing like the man history recorded.
Because Adrian is not only a Duke but a powerful Alpha, and he instantly recognizes her as his fated mate, the one a prophecy promised would complete him.
Now Vivian must navigate Victorian society while searching for a way back to her own time. Yet the bond between her and Adrian grows stronger every day, and he is determined to make her stay.
Torn between the life she knows and a destiny she cannot escape, Vivian must decide whether to follow her heart or risk losing everything.

Waking up with boobs, beauty, and deadly lightning powers wasn’t on Abby’s bingo card—but then again, neither was dying of a terminal illness and reincarnating as a bullied noblewoman in a magical kingdom.
Now Lady Abby MacMayer has one goal: live loud, live free, and never be a victim again. With a sword in one hand and sarcasm in the other, she shocks the realm—literally—and catches the eye of the kingdom’s most powerful and brooding mage, Duke Alaric.
He’s duty. She’s chaos.
He trains her to control her power. She ruins his peace of mind.
The sparks? Not just magical.
But when a war brews, a dungeon rift opens, and a prophecy threatens the man she loves, Abby vanishes in battle… only to return years later with no memory and no magic.
Everyone believes she’s lost.
Only the queen knows she remembers everything—and is hiding the truth to protect Alaric from a fate worse than heartbreak.
Lightning may strike twice... but love?
Love will burn through time, lies, and destiny itself.

The Queen of Blades, Rika dies, hoping for a better life for the remaining survivers leaving a ruined world and she regrets not living a long happy and full life before her death. She awakes as a newborn in a strange but peaceful environment, in the same world of the novel Dreaming Kiss. Rika is reborn as Ulrika Vincent and realizes that she's got a scumbag of a Prince to cut out of her new life. And she wants to save her favorite character, Grand Duke Aric Solheim and what better way to do that than have a one night stand with him and get pregnant by him!

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.

On my due date, my husband Russell locked me in an underground freezer at minus ten degrees.

The Pembroke family's unbreakable rule: the first-born male inherits the entire mafia empire. My sister-in-law Natasha and I were both pregnant, our due dates only one day apart. To ensure his brother's child was born first, Russell made this insane decision.

"My brother and Natasha's baby has to come first—this is what you owe them!" He ignored my desperate pleas and violent contractions, coldly shoving me into the freezer.

But that wasn't enough. They forcibly injected me with labor-delaying drugs. I curled up in agony on the freezing concrete floor, feeling my baby slowly slipping away, tears of despair streaming down my face.

My baby, Mommy is so sorry...

（There is a lot of sexual and stimulating content， minors are not allowed to read!!!）
As a colleger, I stay at my brother’s place. My sister-in-law is both attractive and kind, and every bit of her embodies the type of woman I am drawn to. Being in my adolescence, I have often dreamed of making love to her. Well aware how wrong this is, I have tried to avoid her as much as possible. However, to my utter astonishment, I discovered my brother is impotent, and they have been without marital relations for a long time. She deeply desires a child, and his inability to impregnate her has left her in tears more than once. One night, she came into my bedroom and asked, "Could you help me conceive a baby?" Torn between panic and exhilaration, I couldn’t look her in the eye. What am I supposed to do?

Embark on a riveting journey with Donald Dickson, an unsuspecting gardener with a secret billionaire past. As he navigates the trials of his tumultuous marriage to Clara, a CEO entangled in deception, the story unravels a tapestry of betrayal, revenge, and unexpected redemption. Amidst family conflicts, a violent confrontation, and the revelation of a hidden fortune, Donald emerges resilient. In an unforeseen twist, love blooms anew with Kate, Clara's best friend, leading to a fresh start. This tale weaves suspense, drama, and ultimately, the triumph of hope in the face of life's harshest trials.

In Cape City, where secrets linger in grand mansions, Williams Donald faces different family problems, his marriage to Julian Peterson was hell, he almost Lost his two legs as a result of falling upstairs when his wife threatened him with a knife, he became paralyzed. Later the mysteries surrounding his father's death, Mr Donald confronts a money laundering scandal led by Mr. Andrew Peterson. Enduring humiliation and tragedy, Williams discovers his father's hidden legacy, propelling him on a quest for justice. Can Williams break free from deceit, or will the Peterson mansion crumble under its dark past?

It's just a book... until it's not.
Bailey falls asleep reading a book about a fantasy land of wolf shifters where the villain seems misunderstood. She feels bad for him. But it's all made up.
When she wakes up next to the wounded villain in the woods, knowing they are being hunted, things get real. Really real!
Now, Bailey is trapped inside of the book with the villain. Only, the more she gets to know Rian, the more it seems like he's not the bad guy at all.
Can she help him escape the Alpha that's hunting him down and prove he's the real hero of the story?
And will she ever get home?

Scarlett Blackwood, a beautiful and independent woman, had it all - wealth, love, and family. But when her twin sister Scarlynn died in childbirth, Scarlett's life took a drastic turn. To protect her family from a powerful mafia leader, she assumed her sister's identity and married him. Now, Scarlett must navigate this treacherous deception, all while keeping the truth hidden from her husband, Asher. If he discovers her secret, will he forgive her family or seek revenge? Scarlett's charade is a delicate balancing act, but how long can she maintain it?

Evelyn was a local gangster, living her life on her own terms with what she believed to be her perfect boyfriend until he stabbed her in the back.
They had successfully completed a dangerous mission: stealing from the Madison event, hosted by the most feared mafia family in the city. However, during the mission, her boyfriend abandoned her, leaving her to face the consequences alone. She was captured by the infamous Arthur Madison, a ruthless and emotionless mafia lord.
Now, Evelyn must find a way to save her life. What will happen when she discovers that Arthur is obsessed with her without her knowledge? What dark secrets will she uncover about him? Will Evelyn manage to survive, or will Arthur lead her to an early grave? And what could be his true motives for being so fixated on her?

Marriage was supposed to bring Sophia happiness, but she faced betrayal.

After her grandmother’s death, Sophia inherited her wealth, making her the richest woman in the city.

The only thing missing in her life was a husband. She met Liam, a handsome man who was not wealthy, but she fell in love with him. They married soon after, but Liam had secret motives. He was not in love with her; in fact, he was gay.

He didn't have feelings for Sophie because he had feelings for men. Liam invited his brother Lucas to live with them for his plan to succeed.

Lucas’s presence would distract Sophie, as he was irresistible to women, thus allowing Liam to collect evidence of her affair. Once he had enough proof, he would divorce her and present it to the court. Making it all seem like Sophie had an affair with her brother-in-law when he was the one who planned it all.

Despite being unaware of the setup, Sophia found herself attracted to Lucas. However, things took a complicated turn when Lucas fell in love with her.

Now the question is, will Lucas reveal the truth about Liam’s plan, or will he stand by and watch the woman he loves get betrayed because she doesn't love him back? It's a tale of forbidden love, intertwining secrets, betrayal, and vengeance.

Samantha's life took a drastic turn when her sister, Olivia, stole from Nicolas Lewis, the most powerful man in the city and the feared king of Wrath, a cold mafia lord. Olivia, the third child in their family, put both herself and Samantha in peril. Fearing for her sister's life, Samantha took the blame for Olivia's crime. However, Nicolas had no intention of sparing anyone who crossed him, believing that Samantha was responsible for the theft.

Samantha's parents had already blamed her for the death of their son, harboring resentment towards her, despite the fact that they had been neglectful, leaving her to work tirelessly to pay the monthly bills and fund her sisters' education in hopes of securing a brighter future for them.

Nicolas's younger brother, Sam, who struggled with mental instability, intervened and saved Samantha from Nicolas's wrath. Yet, the cost of this intervention was steep for Samantha. Now, she faces an impossible choice: marry a man who is mentally unstable or risk losing her life.

It’s a deadly wheel of fate!

Five years. Five years I gave everything to Paxton Sterling—my heart, my body, my wolf's soul. I built his empire as Chief Strategy Officer while wearing his mark like a badge of honor.

Then she came back.

Layla—my pure-blooded half-sister with her perfect smile and poison tongue. Within days of her return from Europe, Paxton was ready to throw me away like yesterday's news.

"I want to sever our bond, Freya. Lyra is my true mate."

Wrong move, Alpha.

He thinks I'm just another submissive mate who'll quietly disappear. He's forgotten I'm a mixed-blood Alpha who's been playing nice for far too long. While he's busy playing house with my backstabbing sister, Lucas Morgan—the most dangerous Alpha in the territory—is making me an offer I can't refuse.

Paxton wants to discard me? Fine.

But he's about to learn that some women don't just walk away—they burn everything down on their way out.

I'm done being the good girl. Done being the perfect mate. Done hiding what I really am.

They say some secrets are meant to stay buried.

I used to believe that too—until Roman Aldridge walked back into my life fifteen years later, no longer the broken thirteen-year-old boy I once held through his darkest nights, but a devastatingly handsome man who looked at me like I was his salvation and his damnation all at once.

"I've never stopped loving you, Vivian."

Those seven words shattered the carefully constructed walls I'd built around my heart. Because the truth? I'd never stopped loving him either.

Fifteen years ago, I was his dead mother's replacement—a twenty-three-year-old political advisor tasked with caring for a grieving child. I held him when he cried, watched him grow, and somewhere along the way, developed feelings that terrified me so much I fled Seattle like my life depended on it.

Now I'm back. Divorced, desperate, and apparently still weak enough to melt under those same dark eyes that once looked at me with innocent adoration but now burn with a man's desire.

The scandal writes itself: Governor Candidate's Son Seduces Former Caregiver. Or is it the other way around? Does it matter when the entire world thinks you're a predator who groomed the boy you were supposed to protect?

Roman doesn't care about the headlines. He doesn't care that loving me could destroy his political future, his relationship with his father, everything he's worked for. He says he'd rather burn the whole world down than live without me.

The problem is, I believe him.

And God help me, I think I might let him.

Because sometimes, the most forbidden love is the only one worth fighting for.

Even if it means that a woman falls in love with the child she once nurtured.

I died—not in the way you'd expect, but slowly, painfully, while he was entangled with her.

He called her his savior, the woman who sold everything to rescue his failing empire. Little did he know, it was my money, my life's work, that he squandered.

The betrayal burned hotter than any flame, and I vowed he'd pay.

Now, he's gone—a leap from the heights he once ruled, his fall as swift as his rise.

When my husband handed the project I bled for to his "depressed" childhood sweetheart, he told me to be mature. "You're my wife. You shouldn't care about the credit."

So, when I was in the hospital miscarrying our baby while he threw her a party, I didn't cry. When she posted selfies wearing my anniversary necklace, I didn't scream.

Julian thought he had finally broken me into the perfect, obedient housewife. He truly believed I was nothing without him.

What a pathetic joke.

He had no idea his entire "business empire" was secretly kept alive by my family's trust fund.

He certainly didn't know the "mundane paperwork" he blindly signed this morning was my resignation—and our divorce agreement.

At our seventh wedding anniversary dinner, my husband Nathan audaciously discussed the name of the child his mistress Victoria was carrying, speaking in Spanish right in front of me.
They presumed I could not understand. Yet, not only did I comprehend every word, but I had also long ago uncovered evidence of their affair—including those passionate videos filmed in his car...
But when I vanished completely, he went into a frenzy.
When the news of the 'plane crash' broke, he spent fifty million dollars, deploying twelve rescue helicopters to search relentlessly through the storm for seven days and nights.
When the rescue team informed him that 'there were no survivors,' this once indomitable man knelt on the deck, weeping inconsolably like a child who has lost his mother.
Little did he know, there was no trace of me on that 'lost' plane.
And now, it was my turn to make him experience the true meaning of loss.

I spent two years alongside the Mafia don, serving as his most obedient secretary and most transparent wife, watching as he bestowed all his tenderness upon his shining muse. With great effort, I deceived him into signing the divorce papers and, turning away, fled to war-torn Syria, carrying his child within me. I believed I would never cross paths with him again, until one day, drenched in blood, he knelt amidst the rubble, desperately clawing at the stones, screaming my name. It was only after I left that he truly understood the meaning of loss...

I was forced by my father to fulfill an arranged engagement with an Alpha I'd never met face-to-face. Pushing open the jewelry store door, I found my fiancé Kane spoiling his childhood sweetheart Briar, who was trying to snatch my mother’s ring. "Security! Get this stray out of here!" Briar screamed, pointing at me. When I revealed my identity, Kane sneered coldly: "What bullshit pact? I would never marry a woman like you." Briar snatched the ring and threw water at my face: "Kneel down and beg me to give it back!" When I fought back, Kane exploded in rage: "How dare you touch my woman? Hold her down!" Four warriors pinned me down as Briar laughed cruelly: "Let everyone see this delusional bitch who doesn't know her place!" They stepped on my hand while Kane watched coldly, even urging her on: "Hurry up, let her learn her lesson." Just as she was about to chop off my finger with a knife, the door suddenly burst open—"Do you have any idea whose daughter you're humiliating?"

I died on my 28th birthday.

My family was throwing a birthday party for my sister Stella—yes, we share the same birthday, but in this house, only hers was worth celebrating.

My corpse was slowly rotting in the storage room while laughter and birthday songs echoed from the living room. They thought I was just "throwing another tantrum," completely unaware of the torment I had endured before dying.

The irony was crushing: I had spent five years ghostwriting musical compositions for her, making her the "genius composer" everyone adored. Meanwhile, I—the real creator—was dismissed as nothing more than a jealous older sister.

By the time they finally discovered my body, guided by the stench of decay, it was far too late.

But death was only the beginning of my revenge.

Every single person who had hurt me would pay the price.

Including those I loved most.

When I opened my eyes once more and beheld the familiar glint of scheming in my sister's gaze, I knew—she had also been reborn.

In my past life, she shattered the souls of my child and me with a forbidden moonlight ritual, driven solely by envy of my perfect partner and healthy heir. In my dying moments, I saw no remorse in her eyes, only a twisted satisfaction.

In this life, she still seeks to seize everything from me—my fiancé, my child.

This time, I have chosen the one whom everyone scorns as the "exile."

They call him a monster, curse him, and claim that any woman who unites with him will bear only deformed beasts.

What they fail to comprehend is that as I lay on the brink of death, it was he whose golden eyes reflected the anguish of despair. What they know even less is the secret I harbor—one that even I scarcely believe.

My dear sister, do you desire the perfect heir? Do you yearn for supreme power?

Come, then.

Let us see how long your hypocritical facade can endure when the blood moon rises again, and all discover the true "monster."

I was but eighteen when I found myself captivated by my best friend’s brother.

At twenty-one, I mustered the courage to confess my feelings. He welcomed me into his bed but never once into his heart.

For three long years, I reassured myself: "Just a little while longer. He will see me in due time."

Then Stella returned—the girl he had always yearned for, even while his hands roamed my body in the shadows.

He greeted her return with champagne and candlelight, and then, locking his gaze upon me amidst a gathering, he coldly declared:

"You crawled into my bed and offered yourself. Don't you see how cheap and pitiable you appear?"

I raised my eyes, meeting his once more.

"I shall no longer trouble you."

I retrieved my phone, navigated to a contact I had seldom engaged—my betrothed by arrangement—and typed: "I consent to the marriage."

Minutes before the Stanford Hackathon began, my childhood friend decided to bail to help his girlfriend shoot a TikTok video.

I was just about to stop him when his inner voice suddenly exploded in my head: 'I actually got reborn?'

'Last time, I listened to Maeve and stayed for the competition, securing my spot at Stanford. But Sloane went to Malibu alone to shoot her video and fell off a cliff!"

'Even though I pushed Maeve off a roof to avenge her, I still lost the love of my life.'

'This time, I'm not losing Sloane. If Maeve dares to stop me again, I'll make her pay with her life all over again!'

My blood ran cold, and the words of persuasion died in my throat.

If he wanted his tragic romance so badly, he could have it.

On the eve of the violin competition, I was dragged into the basement and tormented for three excruciating hours, my hands shattered by iron rods, rendering me incapable of ever playing again.

As I lay in the hospital awaiting emergency care, I discovered the truth: it was my own father who had hired the assassins to ruin me; it was my fiancé who deliberately delayed my surgery, aiming to leave me permanently disabled; and ultimately, it was my pampered sister, cherished by the entire family, who had set fire to gasoline with the intent to burn me alive.

Fifteen years ago, a sorcerer had proclaimed that my sister was the 'blessing' of the Winslow family, while I, through my very existence, was deemed a 'curse' that needed to be eradicated.

Due to this absurd prophecy, I became the target of my family's ambition to be rid of me.

They wished for my demise, yet I am determined to survive — to witness them pay the price for their choices today.

Last lifetime, my mate, Kael, had faked his own death just to openly sleep with his sister-in-law without judgment.

I screamed until my throat bled, pointing at the man pretending to be his dead twin brother.

For telling the truth, he dragged me to the sacred altar and burned my mark off my skin, while our four-year-old son was thrown into a pitch-black cell for crying out for her father.

We were banished, torn apart by rogues.

But the Moon Goddess is fair. She woke me up on the exact day of the funeral.

As the pack howls in mourning for their "dead" Alpha, I look at the man hiding in his brother's skin.

I won't expose him this time.

If Kael wants to play a dead man just to play house with his whore, I'll make sure he stays dead forever.

On our fifth anniversary, my Mafia Don husband kissed my cheek, then switched to Corsican to tell our adopted daughter how much he enjoyed getting her pregnant piece by piece.

He didn't know I spoke seven languages. Corsican included.

He didn't know that in three days, I would vanish — no body, no trail, no goodbye.

When I disappeared, he lost his mind.

Now it was my turn to teach him what losing someone really meant.

The child I brought into this world through sheer determination now calls my husband's mistress "mother"; the youth who slew my father for my sake and was imprisoned, now confines me beyond the threshold, forcing me to hear his carnal symphony with his stepmother. Only then did I comprehend: the sixteen-year-old boy who committed patricide for me had long perished within the prison walls.

I knelt on the ground as my husband forcefully pried my fingers from his clothing, coldly uttering the words: "Get rid of this child."

This was my third child, a flesh and blood connection to him, yet for the sake of the white moonlight in a wheelchair, he plunged me into the depths of hell.

My in-laws remained indifferent, my husband betrayed me, and even my own parents cried out, “This child cannot be kept.”

I could not comprehend why a stranger confined to a wheelchair could dictate the fate of my child with a single phrase. Why did she, each time she entered that church, seal my child's fate?

It was not until the day she perished in a self-immolation within the church that I stepped inside and truly understood. Her confession, my loss, our collective suffering—all were intricately woven into a carefully orchestrated scheme spanning over a decade.

I thought I had the perfect life.

A mansion in Westport, a successful husband, a beautiful daughter. Sixteen years of marriage that seemed unbreakable.

Until I found another woman's watch band in my husband's car.

Until I discovered that woman was my daughter's soccer coach.

Until I realized my nine-year-old daughter was helping her father lie to me.

Some betrayals strike like lightning. Others seep in like slow poison, until you discover your entire world is a lie.

When I stood on the platform at our annual community barbecue, armed with evidence and burning with rage, I understood a truth that would have destroyed the woman I used to be:

Sometimes the only way to save your family is to destroy it first.

When my husband pushed the divorce papers in front of me for the hundredth time, demanding I sacrifice myself for my sister, I didn't cry or make a scene. I simply signed my name, willingly giving up the man I'd loved for eight years to Ivy.

A few days later, Ivy got drunk and drove into a state senator's only son during a street race, leaving him paralyzed from the waist down. Once again, I stepped forward to take the blame and bear all the consequences.
When they later suggested I donate my kidney to Ivy, I readily agreed.

Mom and Dad said I'd finally grown into a mature and responsible sister.

Even my cold husband stood by my hospital bed and, for the first time in so long, gently stroked my cheek. He whispered, "Don't be afraid. The surgery will be a success. When you recover, we'll go traveling."

But he didn't know that whether the surgery succeeded or not, I wouldn't be going anywhere with him.

Because I was already terminally ill, with little time left.

I was the most revered pureblood Light heir.

In my past life, I married the Supreme Holy Knight, Arthur, only to give birth to an Ash-blood cub—the lowest of all.

In a rage, he incinerated my baby alive. He then dragged my bleeding, postpartum body into a saltwater dungeon to drain my magic, leaving me to be devoured by venomous insects.

Meanwhile, my lowly Ash-blood sister miraculously birthed a Light-blood cub. Stepping on my corpse, she became the realm's new ruler.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back at our Mate-Selection Ceremony. Arthur publicly rejected me and chose my sister.

Seeing his smug, calculating smirk, I knew immediately: he had been reborn, too.

But how could a parasitic knight, who survived entirely by draining his wife's magic to fake a holy bloodline, ever father a supreme dragon?

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?

I was the reincarnation of the Ancient Star God and the fated mate of the Obsidian Dragon King, Ignis.

For seven years, I nearly bled my divine blood dry to break his curses. Everyone knew I loved him unconditionally.

Until his cold sneer shattered it all.

"Seraphina has laid my egg. After the Hunting Festival, I'll crown her as my queen. Keep Elara around to placate the Alliance. She's so madly in love with me, she'll gladly be a shield for them."

Something snapped deep within my chest. My empathy veins—the very magic that bound my emotions to him—shattered.

No heartbreak. No hysteria. That suffocating love was erased in an instant. Looking at Ignis now was like looking at a worthless stone.

I calmly returned to the temple and activated the marriage decree sent by the Elven High King, Aurelius.

The realm portal was charging. Departure: three days.

I severed our Mate Bond with my own hands.

In that moment, I lay unconscious, bleeding under the silvery moonlight, while he knelt some distance away, clutching his chest as if he had been hollowed out.

Once, he shielded me from nine silver stakes, only to crown another woman; he placed my protective pendant around her neck, then cast me into a water prison. He professed, “I love only you,” yet stood outside my hospital room, nursing her child as if it were his own.

I loathed him, resolved to leave.

I believed this was the end.

Little did I know, as I thought I had finally gained my freedom, he would chase after the debts of blood and regret, intruding upon the new life I was rebuilding—

To redeem a love that no longer sought redemption.

Six hundred years into our marriage, I found out my husband had a son.

I had ended my border patrol three days early, wanting to surprise Valerius.

Not far away, Valerius was channeling his exclusive magic, teaching a boy how to weave the darkness.

"Dad! I did it!" The boy looked up. His bright eyes were a near-perfect reflection of Valerius's.

My mind instantly went blank.

Dad?

A woman walked over.

She draped a small cloak over the boy's shoulders, her hand brushing against Valerius's chest with practiced familiarity. "Valeri, the wind is picking up. He'll catch a cold now that he's sweating."

Valerius naturally wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "My fault."

The image of them huddled together like a picture-perfect family was an ice-tipped needle driven straight into my eyes.

The sharp sting made my breath hitch in my throat.

The man who had sworn before the Senate to love me for all eternity—the man bound to me by a Soul Blood Pact—had already betrayed me!

A sudden, agonizing cramp seized my lower abdomen.

It was an old wound from six centuries ago.

When the Sunfire Curse nearly reduced Valerius to ashes, I had offered my high-born pure blood and my womb as a sacrifice to forcibly block the hex for him.

The price was permanent infertility, along with an excruciating backlash of pain I had to endure every single month.

Back then, Valerius had held me, his eyes red and tear-filled. "I don't want any children! I would rather lose my seat in the Senate than ever betray you!"

Yet the scene before me crushed those words into fine dust.

I stumbled backward, my chest feeling as though it had been ripped open by bare hands.

I was terrified I'd lose control and rush over to scream at him.

Worse yet, in the face of this cozy, happy family of three, I was afraid I'd look like a pathetic, unwanted outsider.

Suffocation gripped my throat. I turned and fled.

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.

That day, I stood in the rain, donned in a rented wedding gown.

He texted, "I’m sorry, Elena, I won’t be coming."

Five years later, he gazed at me and said, "Come work as a maid at my home, in light of the service you once rendered me."

He believed I remained the wretched creature he had trampled upon.

Little did he know that my current husband, Dante Vancetti, is the man who instills fear across all of San Valero.

And I am his Donna—his queen, his entire universe.

Marco Ricci, welcome to hell.

In order to raise the surgical fees for my "blind" boyfriend, I dedicated three entire years to scrubbing toilets.

I believed I was his eyes, the sole beacon of light in his world of darkness.

Until his birthday arrived, I was confronted with the sight of that "incapable" man—who required my assistance even to drink water—coddling his ex-girlfriend while flirting.

"That fool is still busy cleaning toilets," he chuckled with a patronizing grin, brandishing my late mother's memento to charm that woman. "After all, she outshone you at Parsons. Let her serve me like a dog for three years—that'll be her punishment."

It dawned on me that my sacrifices were but fodder for their idle amusement.

Drying my tears, I turned and dialed the number I had blocked for three years—the one belonging to the fiancé who controlled an entire business empire.

"Sebastian, about that arranged marriage... I accept."

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.

On the day of the Bonding Pact, my sister and I stood in the grand hall to choose our husbands.

She snatched Malik of the Water Snakes, throwing Raven—the last heir of the Leviathans—to me.

In our past life, we married on the same day, but our grooms were reversed.

She married Raven and birthed a patricidal monster. I married Malik, using my healing magic to cleanse the madness from his blood, and gave birth to a divine heir worshiped by all.

In the end, driven mad by jealousy over her ruin, she murdered me.

In this life, pointing at Malik's token, she declared she would marry Malik .

I lowered my head, hiding my eyes. "Then I wish you exactly what you desire, Sister."

The boy I grew up with was this town's star quarterback.

Everyone saw him as the golden boy.

Yet, for a delinquent, he willingly threw away his athletic career and plunged headfirst into the local drug ring.

Desperate to pull him back from the edge, I tipped off the police about the drug den, hoping it would be his wake-up call.

Instead, he hated me to the bone for it.

To prove his loyalty to his "true love"—and to punish me—he gave our home security code to a crew of methed-up thugs.

They broke in and put a bullet through my parents' heads, wiping out my entire family.

It wasn't until I took a bullet to the chest and lay choking on my own blood, staring at a mocking text from him, that I finally woke up.

But fate, it turns out, decided to give me a second chance.

On our third wedding anniversary, a catastrophic car accident plunged me into a state of life-threatening hemorrhage. Yet, before the medical staff, my husband roared: "Draw my wife's blood first; save Serena."

Serena—his first love.

It became apparent that he had never married me out of love; I was but a living blood bank, intended solely to sustain his cherished first love. It was only when I discovered I was pregnant that I realized he would not even spare the life within me.

That incarceration, cloaked in the guise of love, had nearly claimed my life. When I opened my eyes again, I was no longer the Clara who could be so easily sacrificed. This time, I shall ensure he pays for his blood debt, with no chance of redemption.