1945 Pulitzer Winning

At my mating ceremony, Alpha Derek's stepsister Victoria arrived wearing the $30 million Luna ceremonial gown he claimed our pack couldn't afford. Victoria pushed me into the ceremonial fire, and as the flames scorched my skin, Derek shouted at me for ruining the ceremony and embarrassing him in front of everyone. They left for our honeymoon together—the one I paid for with my own money. Wolves from the rival pack surrounded me. My wolf couldn't shift because of pregnancy. Through our mind link, I begged Derek for help. He blocked me while kissing Victoria on a Maldives beach. As the rival Alpha's claws tore into my womb, my unborn child died in pieces. Derek returned with tears, begging forgiveness. Like a fool, I gave it. What he doesn't know: I am the Alpha heiress of the Northern Territories' most powerful pack. Severing our mate bond isn't enough. I will take everything from him.

It's my first time going on a trip with my boyfriend. I overhear him on the phone with his friend as they discuss how he's going to deflower me. "Grayson, you should be able to have your way with Summer this time, right?" "Don't even talk about that. She's so conservative—I've said and done everything, yet she refuses to budge!" I lower my hand instead of knocking on the door. I stand outside the room and listen as he continues. "Come off it. We've given you so many ideas in the group chat, haven't we? Have none of them worked? And didn't you guys get a room yesterday? You should've just brought sedatives. Think about how easy it would've been if you could've just knocked her out!" Grayson Hale snaps, "I forgot, alright? Besides, who would've known there'd be two beds in the room? She insisted on sleeping separately, too. I sneaked onto her bed in the middle of the night when I saw she was asleep. She woke up just as I was about to take off her clothes and kicked me off!" My blood runs cold. My hands tremble as I reply to my boss' message. "I accept headquarter's decision to transfer me."

On our wedding day, Ethan got a call and bolted from the ceremony. Grandma was so furious she started coughing up blood, and everyone just watched. Not one person stepped in to help. I raced her to the hospital, but it was too late. She was gone before they even got her inside. Then, as I sat alone in the morgue, my phone lit up. It was Ethan. "Grace, get to the hospital. Bella's hurt and needs your blood!" "Ethan Carter, it's over between us." I ended the call, leaving the last pieces of my heart—and him—behind. Months later, he was on his knees in the pouring rain, begging for forgiveness, saying he'd do anything, give anything, if I'd only look back.

When Tessa Shoreman read Henry Jennings' cancer report, she immediately paid her hard-earned money of sixty thousand to the hospital. She had saved the money from working part-time while she was in university. However, she was worried the money was not enough, so she held back her fear as she sold a kidney to the black market to get more. As she walked to the ward door with a heavy bag filled with cash, she heard shrill laughter coming from inside. "That cheap woman, Tessa Shoreman, got tricked by us again. Haha!" Tessa's hand gave pause right when she was about to push the door open. What did he mean by saying she was tricked? Tessa looked through the glass on the door to see inside the ward. When she left, the man looked extremely weak, but he was now sitting up lazily in bed. Henry had a cigarette in his mouth, and he was blowing smoke rings nonchalantly. He did not look like a cancer patient at all. "It's been two years, and that woman still has no idea." "If she hadn't beaten Serene to first place, Henry would never have left behind his life as a rich heir and planned such an elaborate scheme to become a working-class man living in a cheap rental home. The way that cheap, penniless woman looks at Henry is so amusing." "We agreed that the punishment ends when Henry and Serene get engaged. It looks like time is almost up. We've probably punished her 108 times in the past two years." "The first time was lying to her that Henry didn't have a suit for a job interview. She worked tirelessly for 72 hours straight before she earned enough money for one, but that suit was given to the domestic help to use as a cleaning cloth. The second time was tricking her into believing Henry had a high fever. She forfeited during the finals of a scientific research competition to race home and take care of Henry in the hospital…" "Sigh. Too bad it's coming to an end. I'm going to miss entertaining myself with her."

The Internet is shocked when Peyton Grant, an award-winning actor takes his life. His final tweet before his death is short and simple. "I like you so, so much, Ri. But you're too bright—you burn me whenever I get close to you." Everyone knows Rita York's character in her new show is called Rina. That's when I learn that the person I've had a crush on for a decade has someone that he loves but can't have. When I wake up one day, I find that I've traveled back three years in time. This time, I'm going to help Peyton make his wish come true.

The day I began working, I found out that the boyfriend I’d picked up off the street was actually a rich young man from the capital’s elite circle. His fiancée sneered at me, “You’re nothing but a bit of fun for us when we’re bored.” “You didn’t really think you were some kind of heroine here to save him, did you?” I was humiliated, my lips trembling. I couldn’t forgive myself—how could I have spent half of my father’s lifesaving money to help him? I even dropped out of school, working three jobs every day, foolishly treating him as the second most important person in my life. Later, my father passed away, leaving me all alone, so I left that city. But who would have thought that the young rich man who had toyed with me would go mad, searching for me all over the world for the next five years?

"Sweetie, are you coming? I'll wait for you at our usual spot." Henry Lane is about to go to bed when he receives a voice message. It's spoken in Rushky. He turns his back to me as his face lights up in joy. Then, he answers in Rushky, "Of course. I love you." I'm about to fall asleep, but I jolt when I hear that. The sweet voice on the other end of the line rings out again. "Your wife won't find out about this, will she?" "I'm talking to you to her face now." Henry snorts. "We're speaking in Rushky; she can't understand us." My heart twists painfully. It turns out he's never loved or truly understood me. He thinks I'm just a housewife whose world revolves around him; he has no idea I once studied in Rushnia for two years as an exchange student. I suppress my sorrow and heartbreak as I caress my belly. Then, I make an appointment with a local hospital for an abortion.

On my wedding day, my fiance's first love appeared at the wedding ceremony wearing the exact same haute couture gown as mine. I watched them stand together at the entrance, greeting the guests as if they were the bride and groom. Maintaining a calm expression, I complimented them, saying they looked like the perfect couple—beauty and brains, a match made in heaven. She burst into tears and fled the scene. He, however, didn't hesitate to humiliate me in front of everyone, accusing me of being petty and narrow-minded. When the wedding banquet was over, he left for what was supposed to be our honeymoon—with her by his side. I didn't argue or cause a scene. Instead, I quietly booked an appointment for an abortion.

After five years in a world ruled by werewolves, I still haven't found a way back to the human world. So I did the only thing I could. I married my fated mate, Ryan Darcy, a devastatingly handsome Lycan Prince with a towering frame. The night we sealed our mate bond, we traded secrets. Leaning close, I whispered in his ear, "The truth is, I'm not from this world. Treat me wrong, and I'll disappear back to where I came from. You'll never find me again." Ryan immediately swears he'll love me more than life itself. He pulls me close, holding me so tight it's like he's afraid I'll disappear any second. But then Eleanor Darcy—his stepsister, sent away for a political marriage in another pack—returns. Bit by bit, I watch as Ryan's attention shifts to her. Devastated, I start looking for a way back to the human world. I throw myself at walls, try to hang myself, even jump into the lake, but nothing works. Ryan grows more distant with each passing day. "Susan, I expected better from you. Since when have you stooped to cheap attention-seeking stunts? 'Crossed over from another world?' You can't honestly expect me to buy that nonsense." That's when I realized he hadn't believed a single word I'd said.

On a trip to Chicily, my wife, Rosa Stone, and her first love, Jack Cud, insisted on feeding wild, starving wolves. I simply reminded them, "You might attract more hungry wolves." They turned on me, calling me a heartless monster. In the end, I was right. A pack of wolves really did show up. They circled the car, watching us hungrily. Jack was bitten by one. To my surprise, Rosa kicked me out of the car, yelling, "Jack is hurt! He needs to be taken to the hospital! Distract the wolves, I'll come back for you!" I watched them drive away, leaving me behind, surrounded by hungry wolves closing in from all sides. My heart sank. But, Rosa forgot one thing—I was a great Wolvesmith.