Growth

At the New Year's party, my pineapple juice is swapped for beer. To make things worse, I've just taken cephalexin, which shouldn't be mixed with alcohol. After barely surviving the ordeal, I am shocked to see my husband, Harry Grant, defending Sally Lane, who was responsible for the mix-up. "Can we please just let it go? She didn't do it on purpose," Harry pleads. However, I'm not about to forgive Sally, especially given how sketchy her relationship with my husband has always been. But Harry cuts me off with a scowl, "Enough! She's just graduated and doesn't know any better. "What's the point of holding a grudge? Do you really want to ruin her life to feel better?" he asks, clearly trying to protect her. As I watch him stand by her, my heart sinks. "Fine then, go live with her."

In the three years since I became Zander's mate, I've tried to kill myself ninety-nine times. Kidnapped by a rival pack in my youth, years of torture nearly destroyed me. I clawed my way back to the Crescent Moon Pack, only to find my place had been taken by an adopted daughter, Vivian. My Beta parents doted on her, and my fated mate—the Alpha himself—had eyes only for her. I begged them, told them my kidnapping and my suicide attempts weren't accidents, but all I ever heard was: "Ember, you're delusional. You just wandered off and got lost." "You tried to drown yourself in the river." The people closest to me, and not one of them believed me. Until the ninety-ninth time. Another "suicide." When I woke up three days later, I rubbed my aching head. My eyes were vacant, my own gaze foreign to me. I had forgotten who I was, forgotten the humiliation I'd endured, forgotten the desperate girl who had thrown away her dignity for a scrap of her Alpha's affection. At the pack ceremony, while everyone waited for me to fawn pathetically over Zander, a single tear slid down my cheek for reasons I couldn't comprehend. I wiped it away and, under the shocked stares of the entire pack, announced calmly: "Zander," my voice was steady. "I don't love you anymore. So I, Ember of the Crescent Moon Pack, hereby reject you as my mate." "This little act again?" Zander sneered, his eyes glinting with the same casual contempt they always held for me. But he didn't know. This time, I was leaving him for good. It wasn't until I vanished completely that the ones who'd never believed me were the ones who truly went mad.

When I was four months pregnant, my fiance, who was a doctor, left me hanging when we were supposed to get married. This was not the first time; this was the sixteenth time. The first time, his nurse fainted at the sight of blood during an operation, and I waited for him for an entire day at the city hall. The second time, his nurse called, and he left me behind on a viaduct to buy daily necessities for her. Whenever we were about to get married, his nurse would call him for all sorts of problems. The final time was when he told me he was sick. Despite the rain, I rushed to the hospital, only to find that it was his nurse who was sick. He stayed by her side to care for her while he lied to me without batting an eye. At that moment, I began to hate him. I aborted our baby and left. But he chased after me and even traveled out of the country just to apologize.

After being reborn, the first thing my cousin and I did was switch grooms. In our previous lives, we had gotten married on the same day. She, gentle and composed by nature, became the wife of Blake Malcolm, the aloof naval commander. On their wedding anniversary, Blake skipped the occasion to celebrate his childhood friend's birthday. My cousin had only wanted an explanation, but Blake claimed his conscience was clear. They fell into a silence that lasted fifty years. And me? With my temper—quick to fight, never one for patience—I had married an accountant from the machinery plant's compound. The accountant was soft-spoken, forever complaining about how loud I was, and how little I cared about appearances. We fought every three days, major arguments every five. Eventually, he stopped coming home. Less than a year into the marriage, we divorced. Then one day, my cousin and I opened our eyes and found ourselves young again—and it was the day we were to marry. Again.

The first time I lived, my sister and I found two dragon eggs. The black one pulsed with raw, untamed power. My sister, Isabella, claimed it without a second thought. The white one was left for me. A cracked, forgotten thing. It held only a whisper of magic. I took it out of pity. Within a year, the black dragon shattered his shell and emerged a man so beautiful it was a curse. He became Isabella's devoted weapon, his power forging her path to godhood. Meanwhile, the white egg fed on me. I poured everything I had into my white egg. My magic, my money, my soul. For ten long years, it gave me nothing. Everyone said to abandon it. But I couldn’t. I was an orphan, ignored by my sister. I just wanted a companion. But as the dark plague swept the lands, the egg I'd nurtured for a decade hatched overnight—while I was dying, he soared past me to save Isabella. He could have hatched years ago. Could have been human all along. But he chose Isabella. He mistook her for his savior. Then I was back to the day it all began. This time, Isabella lunged for the white egg first, afraid I'd take it. I slung my worn satchel of herbs over my shoulder. Turned my back on them both. "You can have them both," I said calmly. "I choose myself." This life, I swore I would have nothing to do with Adrian. But now, he's the one filled with regret, willing to give his own life just to have me look at him one more time.

"No matter the price," I said calmly to the witch across from me, "I will buy the scroll that severs a mate bond." I am Jean Thompson, Luna of the Crescent Pack in name only, and mate—also in name only—to Alpha Felix Frost. In the five years I carried this title, I endured Felix's indifference, my in-laws' scorn, and the pack's cold neglect. All because I loved Felix. I believed, with a devotion that consumed me, that one day my sincerity would move his heart. But on the very day of our fifth anniversary—when I discovered I was carrying twins—I stumbled upon him leading the entire pack of warriors to the airport… to welcome his childhood sweetheart, Mary Lockwood. That moment shattered the last of my hope. When he returned, I hid the bond-severing scroll among a stack of business documents and set it in front of him. "What's this? If it's important, give it to me later—" Before he could finish, Mary's syrup-sweet voice slipped in between us, "Alpha, our reservation is about to begin." Felix didn't even bother to look. He pressed his handprint casually on the scroll, ending five years of our bond. Just like that, our mate bond was severed. But I walked away with more than freedom. I carried with me a secret that could shake the entire pack—two lives growing inside me. Twins, foretold to become kings of the werewolves: the Alpha heirs. Later, in a place far beyond his reach, I gained everything I had once longed for—respect, trust, and love. But Felix came back like a storm I could not escape. His eyes were bloodshot, his body trembling with fury as he trapped me against the wall. "I never agreed to sever our bond," he growled. "Where do you think you're going with my pups?"

I'm eight months pregnant when I suddenly faint on the train. My husband panics and cries for help as he kneels beside me. An interning doctor hurries to me. She doesn't bother checking my condition before saying, "The patient needs to undergo a C-section! We have to get the baby out now, or it might die of suffocation!" Then, she slices me open with a fruit knife—she doesn't take any precautionary measures before doing so. She takes my child out. I'm in so much pain that I don't even have the strength to scream. My blood flows everywhere. Yet, a photo of her holding my baby while standing in a pool of blood goes viral. People call her the prettiest doctor alive. My husband and his family are eternally grateful to her. They don't go after her for causing my death; they even make her my child's godmother! Meanwhile, I'm given a simple cremation. No one cares about me. After my death, all my assets go to my husband and his family. Only then do I hear my husband and the doctor talking to each other, sounding smug. "This plan killed two birds with one stone. We got rid of that woman and made ourselves out to be heroes!" That's when I learn the interning doctor is my husband's junior from high school. They got together when he accompanied me to my prenatal checkups! She failed her internship, so my husband came up with this idea—he wanted to use my death to boost her reputation and help her! Even my child eventually died under their "care". When I open my eyes again, I'm taken back to the day we get on the train.

My Alpha mate secretly marked me for three years. I helped him manage the pack as a Beta and even helped him successfully run for Alpha King. But after the successful election, he publicly announced that his Omega assistant Scarlett was the one who helped him the most. "I'm announcing that 15% of our territory will be placed under Stella's management. From today forward, Stella's position in the pack will be second only to mine." With two simple sentences, he'd erased twelve years of my efforts. But my mate thought I was making a mountain out of a molehill. "I just showed a little extra care for the pack's Omega," he said dismissively. "My body never strayed. You're acting like I committed some unforgivable sin." I turned and left, aborted our child and proposed a mate bond severance agreement. Then, I called a number that I hadn't contacted for 12 years. “I regret it. I am willing to be the Alpha of your pack.”

It's Thanksgiving, and I'm waiting for Zeke Jones to come home after cooking up an extravagant meal. When Zeke returns, he doesn't even glance at the meal I've prepared for him. Instead, he proceeds to pack a bag. "I can't celebrate Thanksgiving with you this year," he says. I take another bite of my turkey and say nothing. At the stroke of midnight, Zeke's first love posts a new photo on her social media page. In the photo, she's lying on Zeke's back with a bright smile on her face. The moon outside the window is bright. "Happy to spend Thanksgiving with good company," her caption reads. Instead of hysterically questioning Zeke about the post, I just tap on the "like" button without reacting in any way. Zeke calls me. His voice sounds panicked as he tries to explain himself. "Please don't misinterpret the post. I will definitely spend Thanksgiving with you next year…" I freeze for a few moments, letting out a small laugh. I don't offer him a reply. Next time, he says? Oh, Zeke, I'm afraid there won't be a next time.

After my elder sister lost her sanity, her engagement with the Crawfords was passed on to me. I joyfully married my long-time sweetheart, only to spend the wedding night alone. Because of this, I became the laughingstock of the capital. Later on, I uncovered my sister’s secret, so she ran me over with her car and dumped my body in the woods. When I opened my eyes again, I realized I had returned to the day when the engagement was swapped. William Crawford cradled my deranged sister in his arms and kissed her fingers affectionately. “No matter what happens to you, you’ll always be my love, Whitney.” This time, I turned and agreed to the marriage proposal of Jonathan Gray, the infamous tycoon with a violent temper and who’s rumored to be impotent. While he asked for my hand in marriage, William cried for me to return to his side.