Does Ink In My Veins Have A Satisfying Ending?

After going bankrupt, I do the unthinkable for my gravely ill younger brother, Ricky Ashford, and climb into the bed of Damien Blackwood, the notorious mafia boss. When his smoldering gaze sweeps over my shirtless body, I stay perfectly still. The reason is that I'm afraid to set off this infamous man in front of me. However, the next instant, his lips are everywhere on my skin, and the night dissolves into a wild, reckless blur. For three years, I endure every torment in his bed. Thoughts of escape and even suicide cross my mind, but the fact that my brother is fighting for his life in the ICU keeps me going. One day, I accidentally overhear him speaking with his childhood friend, Chloe Sterling. "How long do you plan to toy with your enemy's daughter? You're not falling for her, are you?" "Don't be absurd." "And what about her sickly brother?" "He died long ago." The last thread holding me together snaps. Now, there is no reason left to live. As I prepare to end my life by burning charcoal, tears well up in his eyes as he pleads for me not to leave.

For five years, the entire vampire world knew that Caelan Vale only drank my blood. Not because I was special. Simply because he chose me, and everyone assumed that made me the Vampire Prince’s only blood source. His only exception. Until tonight. The man who never allowed anyone to touch him lowered his head and drank from another woman’s hand. Isolde Voss. Caelan’s real fiancée. “Claire, you didn’t actually think a human could become a Prince's consort, did you?” I stood there without moving. Humans could only ever remain human. I thought I was the exception. In the end, I never even qualified to be one. I placed the blood bond release papers in front of him and told him they were travel documents. Caelan didn’t even lower his eyes. The black fountain pen slid across the page as he signed his name with careless ease, just like everything he had done to me over the past five years. He had no idea that what he was personally letting go of was not just me. Beneath my cloak, I was already carrying his only half-blood heir. Later, everyone searched for the runaway human. But by then, I had already erased my scent. This time, even the high and mighty Vampire Prince would not find me so easily. Once, I was the one begging for his love. Now, it was his turn.

On our third wedding anniversary, Kent gave me a gift. A black metal wristband. Cold. Sleek. He called it a new product from his company—a pain-sharing system. The other user was Violet. His "girl bro." The person he was closer to than his own sister. Kent brushed a hand over my cheek, his gaze soft. "Clara, you're too coddled. You should learn from Violet. She's tough." Then he snapped the wristband onto my wrist. So while Violet got a full-back tattoo and an entire sleeve, I felt every single needle. When Violet went wingsuit flying, I collapsed at home. Every bone in my body felt shattered. I threw up blood. While she soaked up attention online as the "extreme sports queen," I was drowning in nonstop pain. Kent sat beside me, holding my hand as he cared. "Just hang in there. Violet's just being herself. As my wife, you should be more understanding." To finally push me over the edge, Violet decided to livestream herself jumping into the ocean to make me die in her place. Their friends couldn't wait to watch. Later, I watched calmly from a hospital room as the system slowly drained the life out of her. Kent looked deranged as he demanded to know why I wasn't dead. Because I had already reversed the system. All her vitality had become the nourishment that sustained me.

I fell in love with a cold, taciturn tattoo artist named Henry Kane. So I deliberately damaged my tattoo again and again, picking at the skin and reworking the design, just to see him a few more times. By the third visit for touch-ups, scrolling comments suddenly appeared before my eyes: “I’m dying of laughter. This desperate female lead literally destroyed her freshly tattooed skin just to see the male lead again, and she still didn’t dare confess her feelings.” “Henry Kane is actually the embodiment of an ancient ferocious beast who sat on mountains of gold and silver but refused to spend them, choosing instead to open a tattoo studio to experience mortal life.” “He looks icy and distant, but his possessiveness has long since maxed out.” “He was just afraid his violent nature would scare his woman away.” I looked at the man in front of me, who was lowering his head as he wiped down the tattoo machine, and he did indeed give off an unmistakable keep-your-distance aura. But the comments claimed that he wanted to possess me? “Um… Excuse me?” The man tilted his head slightly, and under the weight of his deep gaze, the confession lodged in my throat. My mind short-circuited, and I blurted out, “I… I wanted to tattoo it on my lower back this time.” In an instant, the comments exploded in joy. “Woohoo! We’re taking off!” “Lower back, you say? That’s a sensitive spot! Can this pure-hearted ferocious beast really hold back?” “Good grief, straight to the undressing scene! This cunning move by the female lead is operating on a whole other level!” The man’s hand gripping the tattoo machine jerked to a sudden stop, and the air seemed to freeze for a few seconds. Then he answered, his voice slightly hoarse and unreadable, “Alright.”

My wife's soul mate had Rh negative blood just like me. In order to make my wife happy, he donated his bone marrow to me then committed suicide. I was put on the blame for his death. Everyone blamed me for killing him. My wife who received his suicide note went crazy. She started to draw blood from my body. She was extremely cruel. "You owe that to me. He would not have died if not because of you. I am only returning to him something that did not belong to you." When the soul mate reappeared, my wife started looking for me like crazy. She did not know that I had died for losing too much blood.

I jumped in front of a dagger for a man who didn’t love me. I know how that sounds. I knew how it sounded then too, somewhere in the back of my mind, but my body was already moving and the wolfbane was already spreading through my blood before I could talk myself out of anything. He held me while I was dying. Said my name like it mattered. And I lay there on that cold floor thinking maybe. Maybe this is the moment he finally sees me. Then Vanessa knelt beside him and they started talking and I realized they thought I was already gone. I almost was. But not yet. I heard every word. I died on that floor knowing the truth about what I was to him. Not a love. Not even a choice. Just a girl who stayed close and never complained and made herself easy to keep around. Then I woke up at eighteen and everything was exactly the same same room, same pack, same people except me. I remember everything. And I’m not the same girl anymore.