Independence

I arranged a lavish dinner cruise in Alpha Lucien Grimfang's honor. However, I mistakenly wore the ceremonial gown that had once belonged to his late Luna, Sylvia Wilder. In front of all the guests, his ten-year-old son, Rhett Grimfang, suddenly rammed me into the champagne tower. The shattered crystal glasses left deep cuts across my skin. "Don't think that you can replace my mother just because you're wearing her sacred gown! You're nothing but a dog—obedient and always at my father's beck and call! Don't you dare dream of claiming a Luna's honor!" His cold, scornful expression mirrored Lucien's perfectly. "I can make you leave anytime I want!" I forced myself to look up at the pup I had raised. "Don't trouble yourself. Tomorrow, I'll submit my resignation to the Elder Council and leave for good."

My grandmother only knows how to draw one thing—infants. They're ugly, but people line up to buy the paintings. I watch as she takes those women into unlit rooms. Then, their bloodcurdling screams will ring out. Oddly enough, they always thank my grandmother when they're leaving. One day, I finally find out what exactly my grandmother paints. I discover the truth when I see an infant crawl out of one of the women's bellies—it looks just like the one my grandmother has painted.

For another girl, Lex Hamilton—my fiancé of several years—dumped me in the middle of nowhere and left me to fend for myself. Three years later, he showed up with her to bring me back. "It's been three years," he said. "Even a dog would've learned its lesson by now. I did this for your own good. If you don't fix that attitude of yours, don't expect to ever become my wife." They thought I'd crumble. They thought I'd beg, cling to him, and unload all the pain and humiliation I'd carried for the past three years. Instead, I smiled. "Sorry, Mr. Hamilton. I'm already married."

The night before our wedding, Desmond Arlington got jumped out of nowhere. By the time I made it to the hospital, he stared at me like I was a total stranger. Doctor said it was memory loss—some brain rattle from the hit. Temporary, supposedly. So I went full nostalgia tour, dragging him back to all our spots, hoping something would click. Then one day at the hospital, I caught him running his mouth with his buddy. "Rhea's trying so hard. Doesn't that do anything for you?" "Do what? I'm over it. Same spots, same girl. The new ones are way more fun." "So why marry her? Just call it off and live your life." He snapped, "Shut up. I LOVE Rhea. I'd never bail on the wedding. I'm just... pushing it back a bit." I looked down at the test results—zero issues. Everything normal. And that's when it hit me: you can't help a faker.

During a battle with a rival pack, my Alpha mate, Damien, burst into my private healing sanctuary. He was carrying Lyra, a Beta warrior who had supposedly taken a poisoned blade for him. The next day, under the watchful eye of the Moon Goddess, Damien was forced by the pack elders to apologize. He explained that bringing an outsider into my sanctuary was a desperate act in a moment of crisis. After all, Lyra had saved his life. But that night, in the bed we once shared, Lyra stabbed herself with a dagger laced with wolfsbane and framed me for the attack. He chose to believe her. The rejection ceremony ripped my wolf from my soul. I was cast out—a powerless exile, left for dead in a storm, to be torn to shreds by rogues. But what Damien never knew was that the ancient curse afflicting him could only be healed by me. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the beginning: the moment Damien carried that woman in, demanding I save her.

My best friend was a "mistress breakup consultant". I had lent her money to start her business, and her very first job turned out to be breaking up my own marriage. "Jessie, what's the point of a loveless marriage? You've wasted Harold's time for five years. Are you really going to keep clinging to him and making him miserable for the rest of his life?" my best friend asked. I laughed at the self-righteous nonsense she was spouting and had security escort her out. She came right back, though, this time with a so-called "Anti-Mistress Alliance", live-streaming the chaos as they broke into my company. "The one who isn't loved is the real intruder!" "Fight for love at all costs!" They chanted while smashing up my office. I watched them calmly, waiting until they wore themselves out before pulling out a contract. "The 100,000 dollars you borrowed from me has been overdue for six months. If you don't repay it soon, I'll be forced to take legal action. "And, the lab equipment you've destroyed is valued at 5,550,000 dollars. You'll need to compensate me at full price. "Otherwise, I'll see you in court."

What happens when a scentless and wolfless omega gets pregnant after a one-night stand with the alpha prince in a Lycan kingdom? In "Moon Haven," Scarlett Lewis discovers her hidden strengths and struggles to assert her independence while navigating the politics of the kingdom. But when tragedy strikes and rebellion threatens the couple, will they be able to overcome the challenges and build a kingdom of peace and inclusivity? Follow Scarlett and Marco's journey in "Moon Haven" as they navigate love, loss, and the responsibilities of parenthood in a world of power and politics.

I was born into a regular family in the Moonridge Pack with no status, but through years of training, I fought my way up to become our pack's Gamma. My father was just an Omega and he worked as an ordinary salesman who always claimed he was too busy for family. When he finally took a vacation, I spent $100,000 of my own money to plan a luxury cruise for us all. Then his mistress Sarah and her daughter Emily heard about our trip and suddenly wanted to join. Without even discussing it, my father gave them our luxury suite and relegated Mom and me to the cramped staff quarters below deck. Even my grandmother, a respected elder, supported his decision. My fourteen-year-old brother took their side too, charmed by their fake sweetness. So I changed our plans. I took Mom on a first-class flight to a private island resort instead, where we spent three perfect months. That's when the family started to panic...

"Ms. Longstaff, are you saying the wedding will proceed as planned, but the bride will be replaced with someone else? Is that correct?" Faced with the staff member's puzzled expression, Heather Longstaff nodded without hesitation. "Yes, the wedding will take place in two weeks as scheduled. I'll deliver the revised materials to you in the next few days." "Understood. Should I inform Mr. Bennett about—" "There's no need!" Heather cut the other person off, her voice sharp with emotion. Noticing the startled look on the staff member's face, she quickly composed herself and explained, "He's busy. All wedding-related matters should come directly to me from now on." This wedding was meant to be her final gift to Mitchell. And like any gift, it had to remain a surprise until the very last moment.

My sister and I were both blessed with naturally fertile bodies. My sister married a poor farmer in our village and gave birth to five sons. Their family thrived and escaped poverty. I married the wealthy ranch foreman, but only had daughters. My husband resented me for embarrassing him and beat me and our girls to death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day the matchmaker came. I watched coldly as the ranch foreman unexpectedly chose my sister with the limp, and I realized he had also been reborn. He thought marrying my sister would guarantee him sons, unaware that he had a genetic condition preventing him from having boys. I pointed to the quiet, thin educated youth in the corner and declared: "I will marry him!"