《Cursed Ugly Mate: Reborn for Vengeance》全部章節：第 21 章 - 第 30 章

LeahThe banquet had reached its ceremonial crescendo. Her Majesty presided from the high throne like a living constellation—silver hair crowned with diamonds, midnight gown pooling around her like spilled ink. One by one, the elite of the kingdom approached, offering murmured blessings and shallow curtsies while she acknowledged them with the barest tilt of her golden gaze.Then the moonflowers arrived.A long table appeared near the dais, laden with the rare blooms—silvery petals kissed with lavender at the edges, stems vicious with thorns that gleamed like tiny silver blades. The ladies of the court drifted toward it in a graceful swarm, sleeves pushed back, small knives at the ready. No one announced it as a competition, but the air crackled with one anyway. Whose wreath would be the most exquisite? Whose offering would draw the Dowager’s lingering glance? In our world, a perfectly wrought moonflower wreath wasn’t just decoration—it was currency. Proof of wealth, lineage, and the

LeahHer Majesty descended the dais with measured grace, Alpha Agnes steady at her elbow. The crowd parted like water around a stone as she moved among the offerings. Moonflower wreaths lay in neat rows on velvet cushions—each one a small declaration of ambition, beauty, lineage. She paused at each, lifting one here, turning another there, her golden eyes thoughtful, unhurried.When she reached Ella’s wreath—perfectly symmetrical, classically flawless—she lifted it gently. The room held its breath. Ella straightened, chin high, lips already curving into the smile of someone who believed victory was inevitable.Then Her Majesty’s gaze slid past it.It landed on mine.The wreath I’d remade—vines spiraling in quiet lunar crescents, thorns locked invisibly into the diamond chain from Kaelen, moonstones catching every flicker of chandelier light. Ancient. Unfamiliar to almost everyone here.Her eyes widened—just a fraction, but enough. Excitement flashed through the gold like lightning acr

LeahI was still perched on Samuel’s lap, the slow sway of the wheelchair beneath us matching the languid pulse of the waltz. His arms encircled my waist—firm, possessive, the kind of hold that looked romantic from the outside but felt like a velvet-lined cage. His ice-blue eyes searched mine, warm on the surface, probing underneath.And just like that, the memory crashed in.The last time I’d seen that face up close, it had been cold—beautifully, cruelly cold—as he watched the knife descend toward my chest. No regret. No hesitation. Just clinical efficiency. The man who’d whispered “I love you” for three years had become the architect of my death in a single heartbeat.My palms itched to shove him away. I tensed, muscles coiling, ready to push off and bolt.But his grip tightened—subtle, unyielding. I wasn’t going anywhere.He dipped his head closer, lips brushing the shell of my ear. His voice came out low, syrup-sweet, the same tone that used to melt every defense I had.“Everyone’

LeahElla’s voice cut through the fading applause like a shard of glass.“I told you, Mother! You didn’t believe me! That woman isn’t Leah!”The words landed sharp and ugly in the sudden hush. Heads turned. Whispers rustled like dry leaves. I felt the shift in the air—curiosity sharpening into suspicion, amusement tipping toward unease.I didn’t flinch. Didn’t even glance her way.Let her scream. Let the room wonder. The more she ranted, the more she looked like the jealous, unraveling girl she truly was. Martha tried to hush her—low, frantic—but Ella shook her off, stomping one delicate heel against the marble.Martha’s reply came quick and desperate. “Ella, enough. You’re upset, I understand, but stop this nonsense. Leah’s been with us since she was a child. How could she not be herself?”“Because she wasn’t like this!” Ella hissed, loud enough for half the nearby cluster to hear. “She can’t arrange moonflowers. She can’t dance like that. She’s an ugly nobody who suddenly knows ever

LeahI fought—silently, furiously—against the invisible chains pinning my body down. Every scrap of willpower poured into one simple command: move. Twitch a finger. Blink. Anything. But my limbs stayed limp, heavy, useless. The drug had turned me into a prisoner inside my own skin—aware, awake, and screaming inside a cage of flesh.Then rough hands seized my arms.I was yanked out of the car like a sack of grain. Gravel bit into my back as they dragged me off the road, stones scraping skin raw. Ella’s voice—high and vicious—cut through the night air.“Pull her into the bushes! Make sure no one sees!”Branches snagged my hair. Roots and rocks gouged my elbows, my calves. Pain flared bright and real—sharp enough to prove the drug hadn’t dulled sensation. I could feel every tear in my skin, every bruise blooming under the assault. Conscious. Aware. Helpless.Last lifetime, this would have broken me. I’d have curled inward, surrendered, let the darkness swallow what little fight I had lef