104 Book(s) Related to nightmare shift

Rose Cheshire runs a little Inn on the beach. Her son, Kai, is almost 16 and learning to drive and prepping to get his license. After a near disastrous accident with her mechanic and neighbor, Henry Mason, he convinces her to go on a date with him.

As she and Henry start to grow closer, strange things start to happen. How does a small-town mechanic have the money to do the kind of work Henry is doing to his house? And why does he need a state-of-the-art security system?

To top it all off, Kai's strange and overwhelming nightmares are getting worse and happening nearly every night. When he starts to see and hear things, Rose begins to worry that something may be very wrong. To top it off, Kai's father, who abandoned them, has come back to town and has been sneaking around.

Strange telephone calls. Noises outside second story windows. The howling. The screams. People coming up missing in town. Kai's increasingly strange mood swings and growing pains. Rose has no idea why her life seems to be falling apart. Why is Kai's dad acting so hostile? Why does Henry seem so concerned with what Kai is going through, and why does it feel like he knows more than he's letting on?

Take a journey with me into my collection of short horror stories.

Over the years, my dreams have always scared me so much that I had a

hard time sleeping at night.

So, one day I decided to create new stories from my deepest fears.

From Vampires, monsters, witches and ghosts to stories that seem normal but are just a little off, I hope my stories chill you to the bone as much as they do me.

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.

"You really think I'm playing around?" He grounds me through gritted teeth and he takes a step closer and I begin to move back.
"I gave you a strict instruction and you disobeyed, you chose to rebel."
There is about a zillion comeback running through my head, but my brain only focuses on the man whose green eyes has somehow turned into black because he's mad at me.
"Do you know what happens to rebellious people?" I keep moving back until my back from him hit the wall and I hiss out in frustration.
I swallow hard and try not to look at him, pissing him off would be a good thing when we aren't the only ones in the whole house.
"Do you?!" He demands with a roar.
"No, I don't. Tell me." I say,
He takes a firm step close to stand intimately close to me, his height making me feel like a little child. "They get punished." And for the first time in the last five to six-minute, I see his green eyes of him instead of black ones looking into mine with lust and my brain go blank for a second and I have to shake it to restart it.
Even I can't deny the intense feeling I have been having, I don't want to be in denial any more. I do want to be close to him and as much as it scares me, it draws me in to know more.
"Then punish me."


The arrangement was, I get to meet her, propose to her, we get married as that would create a stronger bond between the two business associates, bringing us together as a family.

Author's Note.

This project started few months as just a fragment of different imagination worth putting together to form an epic blockbuster novel.

I spent my days jotting down random scenes, became acquainted with the characters and their unique quirks: a 18 year old kid, an amiable charming girl that goes through pain, a 18 year old kid a creepy psychopath with obsessive compulsive disorder, a 19- year old loyal daring overconfident kid.

After so many months, I thought why don't I just edit and write the story already.

Now that's what am doing, I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Clutching his shirt, I pull him closer, and he smirks, well aware of the effect he has on me. The wetness in my core intensifies with his touch.Realization dawns on me as I hastily push him away, panting heavily. His gaze, dark with lust, looks at me intently.
The wetness beneath me and the pain in my neck subside, but the tingling sparks remain.His overpowering scent and minty breath envelop me. Then he whispers, "Lyra if I slip my finger inside you, I swear you are dripping wet for me. And you say you hate me?"That is the breaking point. Summoning all my strength, I push him away forcefully, slipping out of his grasp.
Lyra fled for her life when falsely accused of poisoning the Alpha. Pursued, she was rescued by Lycan King Kessler, who she realized was her mate. However, he had killed her parents, making her conflicted. To meet her uncle's demands, she pretends loyalty to the Lycan King but faces threats from the Alpha wants her dead. Her uncle insists on her having an heir with the Lycan King.The Lycan King refused to mate with her.Lyra's journey unfolds as she wrestles with these challenges – will she overcome them or succumb to the pressure?

This was Angela Cassiel's last year in high school. She had planned to spend the last year smoothly and welcomed her she-wolf when she turned 18. She may even find her mate. But she didn't expect her bully, Leo Miller to come back. Leo had always bullied Angela since they met in middle
school. Leo kept bullying Angela, because Angela's father was the reason his mother and sister died. And he wanted Angela to pay for her father's mistake. Angela had no idea of this. She just knew Leo hated her to the guts. She tried to fight against Leo several times, but she was no match for him. Two Years ago, Leo transferred to another school because of family issues. Angela was glad to get rid of the bully bandage. And she thought they would probably never see each other. But her peaceful life was shattered, again, by Leo Miller's return. What would happen next? Would Angela fight against Leo
bravely this time?

“You’re asking for trouble, little lamb.”

I thought catching my fiancé cheating with my best friend was rock bottom. Then came the vodka-fueled night that incinerated my last shred of sense—and a stranger’s searing touch in a VIP suite that branded itself into my bones.

He storms back into my life weeks later, and I learn his name: Thayne Slade. Billionaire tycoon. Forbes legend. The man who now owns my future.

My stepfather stole thirty million from him. And I? I’m the collateral.

Trapped in his glass-and-steel penthouse, stripped of every last freedom, I’m forced to play the role of his personal assistant—and his fake fiancée—a cruel stunt to spit in the face of his snobbish elite circle. Now I’m surrounded by sharks: a Hollywood heiress who sneers at me like I’m dirt, a father who calls me worthless, and a family that writes me off as a gold-digging tramp. In this world, money buys loyalty. Desire is a weapon. And Thayne Slade holds all the cards.

Will I outsmart the billionaire who owns my fate?
Or will I surrender to the nightmare that’s starting to feel dangerously like home?

This was Angela Cassiel's last year in high school. She had planned to spend the last year smoothly and welcomed her she-wolf when she turned 18. She may even find her mate. But she didn't expect her bully, Leo Miller to come back. Leo had always bullied Angela since they met in middle school. Leo kept bullying Angela, because Angela's father was the reason his mother and sister died. And he wanted Angela to pay for her father's mistake. Angela had no idea of this. She just knew Leo hated her to the guts. She tried to fight against Leo several times, but she was no match for him.

Two Years ago, Leo transferred to another school because of family issues. Angela was glad to get rid of the bully bandage. And she thought they would probably never see each other. But her peaceful life was shattered, again, by Leo Miller's return. What would happen next? Would Angela fight against Leo bravely this time?

Layla Byrne arrives at Blackwater Hall with one letter in her bag and one ugly truth in her chest. Someone is dead, someone is definitely lying.

The school welcomes gifted students, bloodline heirs, and the children of old magical families. It also hides a forest full of sealed power, missing students, and a history everyone has been trained to forget.

Layla is the outsider from the coast, the scholarship girl with the wrong surname, the wrong accent, and a magic she cannot control. The moment she steps onto Blackwater Hall grounds, she feels eyes on her. Notes appear where they should not. Doors open behind her when nobody is there. Someone knows where she sleeps before she does.

The worst part is that the boy who keeps appearing whenever danger comes near her looks like the one who is doing it. Callum Reid is the academy’s golden enforcer, the respected heir with sharp hands, colder manners, and a habit of being too close for comfort. Layla decides he is the stalker. Callum decides she is a threat to the school and to herself. Neither of them is completely wrong.

As Layla digs deeper, she learns that Blackwater Hall does not merely educate students. It ranks them, watches them, marks them, and uses them. Students with the right bloodlines are pushed toward the hidden forest seal beneath the school. Records vanish. Names are being erased. People disappear.

The woman running the academy smiles through all of it. The archivist who keeps the records knows exactly how the old power works.

And the first boy Layla ever trusted in the academy turns out to be the real predator, the one who has been stalking her from the shadows long before she understood she was being hunted.

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.

In the world of open wheel racing, Kai "The Blade" Reynolds is the undefeated golden boy charismatic, ridiculously handsome, and the face of Apex Motorsports Academy. With piercing green eyes, a sharp jawline, and a cocky smirk that sells out sponsors and breaks hearts, Kai’s perfect image is his greatest weapon.
Until a vicious blog post erupts, grainy photos of him leaving an exclusive gay club surface overnight, sparking scandal and costing him multi-million-dollar contracts. Desperate to save his career and silence the rumors, Kai’s management forces him into a ironclad fake dating contract with the one person who despises everything he stands for. And the very person who was behind the blog post and hate page dedicated to him.
Mia Thompson is a fiercely independent 22-year-old engineering prodigy and engineering specialist who hates the entitled racing elite. Secretly running the anonymous blog GridTruths Exposed, she’s spent years exposing the corruption and favoritism at Apex. When Kai threatens to destroy her future, scholarship, and dreams if she refuses, Mia signs the contract out of desperation trading six months of her life for a quarter million dollars and a chance to secure her mother’s future.
Thrown into a series of red carpet appearances, staged kisses, and sizzling public performances, Mia and Kai are forced to play the perfect couple while secretly hating each other. But as explosive arguments turn into heated tension, fake touches ignite real sparks, and the lines between care and hate, both will discover that the biggest danger isn’t the scandal or the rivals trying to take Kai down.
It’s the undeniable attraction burning between two people who were never supposed to fall.

I was a sacrifice.

He was my executioner.

Leora was never meant to live. She just survive beneath the shadows of death, a survival confined between a shady past an ambiguous future. However, her life take a turn for the worse when she is accused of attacking the Alpha's mate.

Abused and humiliated, Leora ends up banished from the pack that hosted her all her life to meet her fate, which turns out to be not only her worst fear, the past she has been running from, but the monster who claims her as his mate.

Can she outlive the fear and find love within the dead heart of a monster? Can she continue to live next to death? And can she restore the happiness that was stolen from her? Or will she be the sacrifice she was always destined to be?

"Hybrids must be destroyed," the Luna announced. Then, she buried my newborn pup alive.

Fifteen years ago, I was stripped of my magic, banished from my coven, and left for dead. I found salvation in the arms of my fated mate, Horace. But our forbidden love ended in blood when he was framed for the Alpha’s murder, and our miracle baby was condemned to a suffocating grave.

To survive—and to hold onto the hope that my son was still alive—I was forced to become the mate of Horace’s sadistic stepbrother, enduring fifteen years of torment.

Now, a mysterious and powerful Lycan King has arrived at the palace gates. He is cold, ruthless, and looks exactly like the mate I watched die fifteen years ago.

Horace is back.

And he isn’t just here to reclaim his throne. He’s here for me who “betrayed” him… and for the son we both believed had been buried alive.

The hunt begins.

Three years ago, my brother left me with his most trusted friend, Kaden.

That "trustworthy" Alpha had me pinned beneath him on my third night in the Shadow Pack.

Since then, I played his obedient little "sister" by day and spread my legs for him by night. Three years of sneaking around—I was done.

My ultimatum: make it official or we're done.

Hours ago, with me pressed into the mattress, he swore between thrusts, "Tomorrow. I'll tell everyone tomorrow."

Then his first love Chloe came back.

He dropped everything and ran to her. I followed. Watched him gently wipe her tears—the same hands that had gripped my throat just hours before.

"Kaden, you promised—"

"Shut up." He turned on me, voice lethal. "Don't say another word in front of Chloe. There's nothing between us. I'm doing Seth a favor, looking after his bratty sister. Clear?"
My hands trembled. Three years. All of it—a fucking joke.

I pulled out my phone and texted my brother: "The Silver Moon marriage. I accept."

She just needed the money while he just needed someone to watch his little brother.

Zara Owens is the girl nobody looks at twice, except to laugh. Bullied, plus-size, and invisible by choice and by force, she has survived three years at Westbridge High by keeping her head down, her armor on, and her expectations low. The last thing she needs is Chase Hendricks complicating any of it.

Chase is Westbridge's golden boy. Star quarterback, perfect life, the kind of face that makes rooms go quiet. From the outside, everything about him looks exactly as good as it seems. From the inside, his father is gone, his mother works doubles, his relationship is a performance, and the only person in his week who talks to him like a real human being is the girl he keeps running into in his own kitchen.

Forced together every evening under the same roof, almost enemies at school but something far more dangerous at home, they are both about to find out that the person who sees you most clearly is the one you least expected and that being truly seen, after years of hiding, might be the scariest thing of all.

Reid Vance has two rules this semester- win the Frozen Four and keep the NHL scouts interested.

Dating isn’t on the list. Not after his ex cheated with the guy trying to steal his captain spot.

Then his best friend and teammate leaves for a semester abroad and begs Reid to house his sister—Chloe Dupont.

She is a Reality TV star, a paparazzi magnet, and the girl every guy wants on campus. She is the girl who got him benched in high school with one stupid prank.

To Reid, she’s shallow, loud, dramatic, proud, and everything he hates.

To Chloe, he’s the arrogant jock who treats her like trash.

Now she’s sleeping in his spare room with one promise to his best friend he can’t break. He was supposed to protect her, not want her.

How long before “I hate her” turns into “I can't let her go”?

They thought that by forcing me to my death, they could devour everything.

My father jumped off a building, and I became a destitute young master whom everyone could bully. To pay off debts, I married into the Hawthorne family and became their sharpest knife.

After my father-in-law died suddenly, my wife immediately brought her childhood sweetheart into the house and forced me to divorce him.

My resistance resulted in a murder plotted by 928 × 213.

When I opened my eyes again, Chloe, who had been watching over me for three days and three nights, was beside me.

She said, "I'll take you away."

Three years later, I returned as a mysterious investor. The first thing I did was to buy the family's bankrupt old factory for 1.5 billion.

My ex-wife and I bumped into each other on the street; it was like seeing a ghost.

I smiled and stuck a 30 million yuan check on her forehead: "This is to repay the divorce fee you gave me back then. Keep the change."

The real revenge has only just begun.

Melia Bournemouth thought she had lost everything when her father died and a tragic accident left her in a wheelchair.

Her only comfort was her devoted husband, Mathew. But when Melia discovers Mathew is secretly liquidating her last remaining assets to build a life with his pregnant mistress, her grief turns into cold, hard rage.

Desperate for retribution, Melia turns to the only man Mathew fears: Illya Cosgrave, a ruthless and dangerous billionaire with a dark reputation. But as they plot to dismantle Mathew’s empire from the shadows, Melia realizes Illya isn't just a weapon for revenge. He harbors a secret connection to her past that changes everything.

Now, Melia must decide: will she remain the victim, or will she rise from her chair and burn her ex-husband’s world to the ground?

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.

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."

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.

They say the dead go where they belong.

But I didn't.

I drift through the cold winds, watching my husband—the detective who once swore to protect me with his life—diligently investigating a dismemberment case.

He doesn't know that the broken body lying in the morgue is his wife.

He doesn't know that the gentle, caring "psychologist" who brings him lunch every day is the one who killed me.

He doesn't know that when I called him in my final moments, begging for help, he hung up on me. I am dead. Yet, that is not the cruelest part— the most harrowing aspect is having to witness the truth gradually emerge, watching as that man collapses completely upon uncovering it all.

After my son was kidnapped by criminals, I begged my detective husband to save him.

He was too busy protecting his frightened first love to care—hanging up on my desperate calls one after another.

The kidnappers demanded a $500,000 ransom to spare my child's life. That's when I discovered he had already drained our family savings—to spoil his first love.

When I screamed that his own son was hanging by a thread, he just sneered that I was an attention-seeking liar.

In the end, the kidnappers sent back my seven-year-old son's severed head.

Even after that, my husband still fought tooth and nail to protect his first love who had orchestrated our child's death.

It wasn't until I made him stand before that headless little body and identify it himself that he finally, completely, lost his mind.

Ninety-nine pearl necklaces correspond to ninety-nine fractures in my heart.

He was accustomed to using extravagant pearls to atone for his transgressions, yet on the day of my mother’s funeral, he chose to vacation with his mistress while plotting to take from me the ancestral home my mother left behind.

When the hundredth pearl arrived, I presented him with the divorce papers. The pain of my miscarriage still lingered, as he offered me a rare black pearl to "atone"; moments later, he was liking his mistress's posts.

He believed pearls could purchase my love, unaware that each bead counted down the moments of our marriage.

In the end, what does it matter if he risked everything to protect me?

I shall never turn back.