How Do Players Get Back The Abandoned Luna In The Game?

I caught his scent before I saw them, my husband's scent, saturating another woman's skin. Three years. I gave Alexander three years, my father's territory, my people's loyalty, and a slow poison quietly destroying my body from the inside. I made him — pulled a fallen, abandoned Alpha from the dirt, merged our packs, convinced every dissenting elder, and stepped aside so he could wear the crown I built. I called it love. He called it convenient. The night I walked into that ballroom uninvited, his mistress was already on his arm. By the end of the night, she was on her knees — telling the entire pack she was carrying his heir. That was the moment I understood: I was never his wife. I was his ladder. I walked out without trembling. And I started planning. There was only one move left — to go to the man I had once rejected. The most powerful Alpha in the word. The one who never forgot.

When I defeated Natalie for the tenth time and claimed the Supermodel Champion title, her childhood sweetheart, Jared Johnson, proposed to me. With his devastatingly handsome face, he walked on stage and kneeled on one knee with a ring in hand. “Will you marry me?” I smiled and said yes. That very night, he became mine. Throughout seven years of marriage, I stepped away from the runway. Instead, I gained three beautiful children. They inherited my supermodel figure and their father’s stunning looks. Together, the four of us turned heads wherever we went. On my birthday, Jared handed me the registration form for the “Supermodel Showdown”. I knew he wanted me to live in Natalie’s shadow and be nothing more than her backdrop. However, I signed my name without hesitation. I already had the best of his genes, after all. Now, it was time to take back the crown that belonged to me.

Alpha Terrence and I had been pup-less mates for five years. But one day, Terrence had accidentally ingested wolfsbane, leading to a diagnosis of severe poisoned decay. His agonized whimpers shredding the silence of every night, plunged our pack into despair. It was then that a mysterious witch whispered a prophecy to his parents: only a she-wolf bearing the "scent of silverfern and cold moonlight" could save him. So, in order to pull him back from the brink of death, he slept with the she-wolf his parents arranged for him. After every time they mated, he would frantically slap himself, then kneel before me in tears, confessing everything. Later, the she-wolf, Rebecca, succeeded in getting pregnant. Terrence hugged me and cried bitterly, "Lila, my Luna," he choked, his golden Alpha eyes dimmed with grief, "I've fulfilled my parents' dreams, so from now on, I'll live for myself. My heart, my wolf... they belong only to you." But two years later, I saw Rebecca was being fawned over by everyone in Twilight Pack. A pup stood beside her, as her belly was swollen high with another one. Terrence instinctively shifted to shield her, explaining, "Luna, my parents... they just wish for a son and daughter to complete my family. Once Rebecca safely delivers this pup, I'll send her away. Right away." "You didn't want pups with me, so Rebecca carries this burden for you. It will be yours. I did this... because I love you too much to leave you alone in this world, these pups are the gifts I leave behind. They will carry on my love for you, even after I'm gone." I nodded without crying. Terrence didn't know. I came today to share joyful news because I was pregnant. But this pup... would never draw breath under the moon. When the truth crashed upon him, that very night, under the full moon's indifferent gaze, his desolate howl became a tangible cry for my pardon.

Are you..sure? Are you sure..you don't love me anymore?? Drake asked, stuttered, his eyes red, his face haggard, his black hair disheveled. He looked no better than a beggar, his clothes wrinkled seemingly having been worn for a decade. Fate knows how to twist things, when he meets Cynthia Frost he plays the usual playboy card but, do Cynthia Frost's qualities only garner a one night stand? No, he gets addicted. And Cynthia?? Who is she? The most prominent rising supermodel, so alluring and irresistible. She doesn't believe in love. Don't let her sweet public personality deceive you. What does fate have for them when the player gets played and the guarded heart begins to crumble

Dear best friend, I had sex with our daughter after you died. 🦪 Dora lost her father on her eighteenth birthday, and she swore to find his killer and end his life herself. Because of this, she signs a ‘fight till death’ deal with Umbra, a deadly secret organization her father worked with. A fight where only one of the two fighters would walk out of the ring alive. Dale Lazarus, a man secretly in love with his best friend’s daughter, killed his best friend in a fight. One of them had to die for the other one to live, and it was Dora’s father who didn’t walk out of the ring. Dora doesn’t know this: that Dale Lazarus, her father’s best friend, and also the man she’s shamelessly obsessed with, is the killer she’s after. She swore to his face that she was going to wipe her father’s killer off the planet, not knowing she was talking about him, and He trains her to kill her father’s killer, knowing he was training her to kill him. What happens when Dora realizes she signed a deal to kill the man she is obsessed with? ~ Content warning: This book contains several sensitive topics that may be disturbing to some readers. Reader's discretion is advised. Specific warnings include: Graphic violence and gore, Explicit sexual content, Description of grief and loss, and strong language.

I have been married to Andrew Connolly for four years, but whenever his gaze meets mine, there is no recognition at all. Even my voice doesn't register. He remembers everyone around him, yet the one person he never remembers is that I am his wife. If I put on a hat, he asks who I am. When I tie my hair up, he assumes I am a new hire at his company. To help him remember, I repeat the same outfit, the same makeup, the same hairstyle. Still, despite my daily presence, he treats me like a stranger. I tell myself Andrew is simply buried in work, that the neglect is accidental, right up until a concert night. I watch him cut through the crowd and embrace his first love, whom he has not seen in years. When the stage suddenly collapses, I seize his arm and beg, "Honey, please save me." Andrew shoves me away, his voice flat and cold. "You're not my wife. My wife is at home." I am crushed beneath the falling debris. Choking on blood, I can only watch as Andrew rescues his first love and walks away. That is when I realize it's not that he can't remember me, he just doesn't love me. The bodyguards drag me out of the wreckage. Later, I spend a month confined to bed with serious injuries. While I am in the hospital, I get a photo of Andrew kissing his first love. The blows land one after another and mercilessly jerk me awake. I am done with love, and I am done with him!