Bias

When Alexander Smith stands in front of me and says he's going to marry someone else, that's when I realize he's been reborn too. I remember our 20 years of love in our past life. A plane crash. And then, rebirth. "This is to save Sophia," he says. "In our past life, she was sold to a Vostmark oligarch after her father's political scandal. Not long after, she took her own life due to abuse. I can't let that tragedy happen again, so I need to get engaged to her." As he speaks, he hands me an orange prescription bottle. "If you take this, you'll forget me for a little while. You won't feel the pain. It's just seven days. Once her father's scandal blows over, you'll stop the medication and your memory will return. Then I'll end the engagement and officially propose to you." I stare at the bottle, knowing it's a lie. Not the part about Sophia's suicide. The lie is about the drug. He thinks it only causes temporary memory loss. But I know better. The suppressant causes permanent damage to emotional memory. The seven-day countdown isn't the time it takes for my memories to return. It's the time it takes for my love for him to die.

My fated mate, Alpha Horton, didn't love me. He loved another omega, Chloe. In my past life, Chloe took her own life in despair over him, and Horton was convinced I had driven her to it out of jealousy. He hated me to the bone. Even bound by our mate bond, he refused to touch me. But when a rival pack’s silver bullet flew toward me, he shielded me with his own body. As his life drained away, he wrenched his cold hand from mine, his golden eyes filled with nothing but regret and disgust. "Sienna," he said, "my one regret is not rejecting you from the very beginning." After he died, the pack fell apart. Every member cursed me, screaming about why it wasn't me who died, but their great Alpha. It felt like my heart had turned to ash. I swallowed a vial of liquid silver before his grave. When I opened my eyes, I was back ten years in the past, shortly after we were mated. The cold voice of the Moon Goddess echoed in my mind. "Child, I will give you one more chance. Fulfill the three deepest wishes in Horton's heart, and in exchange for your life, your soul will earn its true freedom." I knew his wishes. To break our mate bond. To be with Chloe. To ensure the survival of the Snow Moon pack. This time, it wasn't too late. The freedom he craved, the woman he loved, the pack he swore to protect. I would give it all to him, using the very life he loathed to do it. But when I granted his every wish, in return, he wept with regret, calling me his only fated mate.

Three years after our breakup, I ran into my ex-girlfriend, and she had her new boyfriend by her side. "Hey, isn't that Henry the expert?" Diego Stanley taunted with a smirk. "Three years post-breakup, and you're slumming it here playing with clay?" I furrowed my brow, ignored them, and carefully moved the Victorian-era porcelain musician figurine onto its preset base in the display case. When I wasn't biting, he reached out to grab the figurine from my arms. "What's this junk you're treating like gold? Let me take a look." Cynthia Wyatt frowned, her voice laced with that familiar arrogance. "Henry, I've given you three years to shape up, and you're still the same loser? Come on, hand over that clay doll to Diego. Don't kill the vibe. If you play nice, I might even reconsider our old engagement." As Diego's hand neared the figurine, I dodged quickly and barked, "Hands off! It's a historical artifact!" Diego got pissed off and shoved me hard. "Some flea market find, and you're acting all high and mighty?" In the ensuing scuffle, I lost my balance, and the figurine slipped from my grasp, crashing to the floor. That sealed their fate. This entitled pair was about to go bankrupt trying to fix it.

Everyone loved my older sister. When the novel I wrote shot to popularity, she got jealous and suddenly proclaimed that she wanted to be a popular author too. My older brother, who was the editor-in-chief, immediately announced that I plagiarized my sister's story at my book signing and she ended up becoming the genius author while I got cyberbullied so much that I was too scared to leave the house. After I got married to a young heir from high society and lived a happy life, my sister told me that she had a crush on him for years and wanted to be his bride at least once in her lifetime. He did not even think twice about divorcing me and holding the wedding of the century with my sister. My family was afraid that I would sabotage their relationship, so they made me leave the country. However, my sister did not think that I was miserable enough. She came for me outside the country and pushed me down the stairs. I was lying in a pool of blood when my mother rebuked me, "Did you say something that made your sister unhappy again?" That was how I died in despair. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day my brother accused me of plagiarism.

The day I decided to donate my body to science, my family gathered around my adopted sister, Hailey, celebrating her acceptance into a cutting-edge experimental treatment program. The one with brain cancer was supposed to be me. But Hailey used my husband Zane's position at the hospital to swap her healthy medical records with my terminal diagnosis, stealing the one chance I had to survive. And the worst part? Everyone cheered her on. The pain became too much. I fought to stay present, only to overhear the nurses whispering, "It's a good thing Dr. Zane secured that spot for Hailey. They said she only had three days left." So, in the last 72 hours of my life, I quietly let go of everything. When I gave Hailey the original manuscripts of my novels I had poured my heart and soul into, my father and brother gave me a satisfied smile. When Zane decided to grant Hailey her dying wish by marrying her, he handed me the divorce papers. I signed without a moment's hesitation. He sighed and praised me for finally being "so reasonable." And when I was the one who coaxed our daughter, Olivia, into calling Hailey "Mommy," Olivia gushed that her new mom was the best. "Don't worry," Zane soothed. "We're just keeping it safe for now. Once she's gone, it'll all come back to you." I gave Hailey everything I had, just like they wanted. So why, when they find out this was all Hailey's vicious lie, do they come crying, saying I'm the one they wanted all along?

The day the Porter family went bankrupt, my elder sister, who had been engaged to Calvin Porter, claimed she was in love with someone else and cut ties with him without a second thought. I was the one who stepped forward to take her place, becoming the laughingstock of our social circle. I smoothed away all the hardness in him, tried to shape myself into the woman he liked, and swallowed countless moments of bitterness, hoping only to warm his distant heart. Until our wedding day. A car accident happened, and Calvin's first instinct was to shield my sister with his whole body. "Rebecca, don't be scared. Where are you hurt? We'll get you to the hospital right away!" He carried her into the ambulance without so much as glancing back at me. I looked down at the iron rod piercing my chest and felt warm blood gush out. It was only then I understood. He was not indifferent by nature, he was simply indifferent to me. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Calvin came to our house carrying the engagement gift.

During a classmates' reunion party, the villa unexpectedly collapses, trapping both Priscilla Hobbs, my husband's true love, and me beneath the fallen ceiling. My husband is a member of the rescue team. To keep Priscilla alive, he chooses to lift the ceiling from her side. He says, "Pris is an actress. She can't be crippled." The ceiling crushes my legs as it's lifted from the other end. My husband seems to have forgotten that I have a congenital blood clotting disorder. Without my legs, I'll die…

I knew perfectly well that open flames were forbidden at a gas-leak scene, yet as a firefighter, I still backed my girlfriend's childhood friend when he insisted on lighting a cigarette "to calm his nerves." In my previous life, a sudden gas leak erupted during a gathering. Her childhood friend insisted on smoking to steady himself. I slapped the lighter out of his hand and yelled at him for trying to get us all killed. Humiliated, he ignored everyone's attempts to stop him and stormed outside—only to be crushed by an advertising board blown loose by the explosion's shockwave. Later, when I saved a child who had fallen from a building and was left hanging in midair myself, my girlfriend—my second-in-command—maliciously cut my safety rope. She stared at my corpse and said, "If you hadn't humiliated George in front of everyone, he wouldn't have died." When I opened my eyes again, I was back in that room thick with the stench of leaking gas.

On my eighteenth birthday, Alpha called me up in front of the whole pack and told me to choose—one of his sons as my mate. Whichever I chose? He'd be the next Alpha. I didn't flinch. I picked Cayce, his eldest. The room went dead silent. Everyone knew I used to be stupidly in love with Kain, the younger one. I'd confessed at every pack dance. Took a silver dagger for him once. Cayce? Coldest, meanest wolf we had. Total menace. No one got close. But they didn't know the truth. In my last life, I was bonded to Kain. On the day of our Bonding Ceremony, he slept with Lena, my cousin. My mom lost it. Shipped Lena off to Duskwolf Pack to get bonded to their Beta. Kain? He blamed me. Paraded in she-wolves with Lena's same ice-blue eyes. When he found out I was carrying his pup, he made sure I saw him with every one of them. It was torture. When labor hit, he locked me in the dungeon. Blocked everyone out. My pup got crushed. I died hating him. Maybe the Moon Goddess felt sorry for me—she gave me a second shot. I came back. This time? I let Kain keep Lena. Didn't think he would ever regret it.

At three months pregnant, I was diagnosed with an ectopic pregnancy. My husband, a doctor, was overwhelmed with worry, pulling every string he could to arrange surgery and remove the baby. "As long as you're okay, it doesn’t matter if we don’t have our own child. We can always adopt. I can't lose you, Evelyn!" Heartbroken, I blamed myself for being useless, for failing to carry our child, and for disappointing my husband. But then, I accidentally saw his chat messages with another woman on the phone. "Don’t worry, I already told her she had an ectopic pregnancy." "I’ll have her sign the adoption papers soon, then find a way to bring you into our home." "Asher is my only son. I will make sure he inherits everything I have!" That was when I realized that the husband I loved so deeply had long since built another family behind my back.