LOGINHere’s a synopsis of my story; *Synopsis:* Elena wakes up gasping in her Vance Hotel bedroom, believing she just survived a fatal fall from a 40-story building after her fiancé, Julian, and half-sister, Chloe, shoved her off a balcony. She quickly realizes it was a nightmare, but the relief is shattered when she’s hit with excruciating abdominal pain. Elena miscarries her baby on the bathroom floor, losing the child she saw as her only hope and proof of love for Julian. Grief-stricken and bleeding, she contemplates suicide, seeing no reason to live without her baby. Her moment of despair is interrupted by Julian, who enters the room irritated and demanding she get ready for a gala. Unaware of the blood at first, he later sees her state and learns she lost the baby. Instead of comfort, he responds coldly, saying it’s “for the best” because the child would have complicated his trustee meeting. The story ends with Elena devastated, realizing Julian is the same man who pushed her in her nightmare — cruel, wealthy, and utterly without empathy. Her fragile love and hope are destroyed, leaving her alone in her grief. *Core themes*: Betrayal, trauma, miscarriage grief, and the shattering of trust right after surviving what felt like death.
View MoreThe Devil's Bed POV: Elena "Who gave a Vance mouse permission to scurry into my cage?" Dante asked, his mere voice nearly sending me on my knees. Before I could answer, the two massive gammas from the hallway burst through the shattered double doors, their faces flushed with humiliation. "Alpha," the left one gasped out, his fists tightly clenched. "We apologize. The bitch was too fast. We’ll drag her out right now and dump her in the river." They lunged forward, their hands reaching aggressively for my bare shoulders. “Touch her,” Dante whispered, his voice dripping with pure menace,“and I will peel the skin from your arms before you can blink.” The two gammas froze instantly. The absolute authority in Dante’s tone was terrifying. They slowly dropped their hands, bowed their heads in absolute terror, and backed out of the room, pulling the doors shut behind them. The sharp click of the lock ec
The Restricted Floor POV: Elena "Going somewhere, Miss Vance?" the lead guard sneered, his voice sending a violent tremor straight down my spine. "The alpha ordered us to ensure you stay exactly where you are. The announcement is about to begin." Oh, so I wasn't caught. Thank goddess. Though, my heart still hammered but I refused to let it show on my face. In my first life, I would have cowered and let them guide me back to the ballroom, completely oblivious to the fact that I was walking straight into a trap that would end with my body shattered on the pavement. But I wasn't that fragile girl anymore. I was a ghost who had already felt the cold embrace of death. You cannot burn someone who has already been to hell. Think, Elena. Think. I was practically wolfless. My wolf has been dormant for so long now, entirely useless against five grown, trained gammas. If I tried to fight them ph
Drugged POV: Elena The grand ballroom of the Vance Hotel was a dizzying sea of glittering crystal chandeliers, high society billionaires, and powerful werewolf royalty. The noise of clinking champagne glasses and classical violin music filled the air. I stood at the top of the grand staircase, looking down at the crowd. I spotted my stepmother, Vivienne, standing near the center bar, draped in diamonds and looking immensely smug as she whispered to a group of trustees. Beside her was Chloe, wearing a pure white, angelic dress that completely contradicted the blackness of her soul. I took a deep breath, lifted my chin, and began my descent. The moment my high heels clicked against the first step, a strange silence went over the ballroom. One by one, heads turned. The same elite pack members and board trustees who had spent months looking down their noses at the "disgraceful, unwed pregnant heiress" were suddenly st
preparation to party POV: Elena Bastard. Bastard? Did he seriously just say that? The word echoed in my head, slicing through the very last remnants of my grief. My hands, still stained with the red proof of my loss, trembled against my stomach. Isn't he the father of the child? How the hell was my baby a bastard? We were engaged. We had been together for three long years. I had given up my education, my career, and my entire reputation to carry his bloodline. For months, I had endured the suffocating weight of this pregnancy. Everyone in New York society, every board member at Sterling Business Academy, every wolf in the pack, knew I had conceived out of wedlock. They called me a disgrace. The board looked at me with thinly veiled disgust, using my condition to slowly strip away my duties and clear a path for Julian to step directly into my shoes as acting CEO. I had carried the shame of his child






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