I died wearing his mark. A barren wife. A discarded toy. A fool who bled for a man who fucked my sister while I suffered the pain of being called infertile.

The day I caught my Alpha buried between her thighs—his fangs marking her where mine should’ve been. And when I uncovered a secret that could destroy him, they shot me dead.

But death didn’t stick.

The Moon Goddess sent me back—dripping with fury and vengeance—to the day he proposed. Back to when I should’ve laughed in his face and walked away.

This time? I’ll play the perfect Luna. Wear his ring. Moan his name. Let him fuck me raw, thinking I’m still his.

But every kiss is poison. Every sigh, a lie. Every time he cums inside me, I’ll pretend it’s him I’m coming for. While he’s lost in the heat of my body, I’ll smile—because his empire is already crumbling in my hands.

But my revenge doesn’t end with him. There’s the rival Alpha who’s always watched me with dark, possessive eyes. The one who wants to ruin my husband as much as I do.

So I’ll offer him a deal: Use me. Let me use you. Help me break him, and I’ll let you do much more. You can touch me. Claim me. Bite me where my husband’s mark once was.

I’ll ride him in the shadows, let him growl my name while we tear my husband’s world apart.

But here’s the truth, Alpha: You think I’m yours? Darling, I’m nobody’s.

And when the final strike comes—when my husband chokes on his own blood—I’ll be the one smiling down at him. Let him die loving me. Let him die hard.

Revenge so sweet, it’s filthy.



Betrayed by blood, Reborn in Fury

CHAPTER 27

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Elsie’s POV – Two Hours Later
I stood in front of the mirror, unbothered.
The dress I wore was cotton, navy blue, sleeveless, and fell just below the knee. Simple. Comfortable. The kind of thing you throw on for groceries or a walk through town—not for a proposal.
Flat sandals. No jewelry. No mak...

Elsie’s POV – Two Hours Later

I stood in front of the mirror, unbothered.

The dress I wore was cotton, navy blue, sleeveless, and fell just below the knee. Simple. Comfortable. The kind of thing you throw on for groceries or a walk through town—not for a proposal.

Flat sandals. No jewelry. No mak...

CHAPTER 13