Alison Arngrim

Leah, Logan’s adopted sister, threw a tantrum at our first engagement party, an episode of her pup dependency anxiety. But after that night, I gave him an ultimatum: if he couldn’t bond me before I turned thirty, he’d have to choose—me or Leah. Logan believed I’d never walk away. After all, I was bonded by my dying mother’s last wish: to be bonded with the werewolf warrior who’d loved me for ten years. Ten years together. Twelve promises that he’d keep Leah in line. And then came my twenty-ninth birthday—our thirteenth engagement party. Leah locked me in a restroom, stole my gown, and stood beside Logan in my place. She was smiling, glowing, claiming everything that was mine. When I finally stepped out, my gown was tattered. I confronted Logan, but he only said, “Alison, forgive her. I promise, this is the last time.” I looked at the torn gown my mother had sewn through sickness and pain… and I laughed. Logan sighed in relief, thinking I’d let it slide again. But I didn’t. I turned and walked away without a word. After a decade together, he thought I belonged to him. Well, he was wrong. He didn’t know that there was someone else who could give me happiness and fulfill my mother’s wish.

On Christmas Day, eight months pregnant, I struggled through the kitchen,cooking for my husband and his secretary. When I finally sat down, hoping to taste a piece of turkey I didn’t even get during Thanksgiving, my husband shoved me aside like I was nothing. He slid the turkey in front of his secretary instead. “Alison,you’re already so fat. Stop eating. Let Daisy have it—she deserves to enjoy your cooking.” Daisy，chewing on the turkey I had painstakingly prepared, had the audacity to mock me under the guise of playing truth or dare with my child. “So, what do you think your mom looks like?” “Mommy looks like a fat pig on a farm!” “Her stretch marks? They’re like disgusting worms crawling all over her. Even Santa would run for his life!” Their laughter erupted like daggers piercing me from all sides. Humiliation and rage burned through me as my dignity was stripped bare. I demanded an apology from that vile woman, but my husband—my husband!—turned his cold, cruel face toward me and said, “Get out of here.” Pregnant, exhausted, and humiliated, I stood there in shock. Then I snapped. I grabbed the Christmas cake and turkey and threw them in the trash. I walked out without looking back. This wretched family doesn’t deserve a second of my effort or a single ounce of my love!

Axel, handsome, smart, with a secret that hasn't been revealed yet, a secret that could clear up that mess of conflicting feelings that he was just having, that made him feel bad of what he felt for HER. Was it possible to have such strong feelings for someone who was connected to you by blood? But was she? She was the only person who helped him, who got him out of his crisis, who calmed his head when he started thinking too much. Emma was his sleeping pill, and the heartbeat that made his heart live. Ali never let her feelings control her, she didn't want to get hurt, and she never would let anyone get inside that part of her and hurt her. But there was him, Miles, there had always been only him, and he had tried so hard that by now she had become accustomed to his presence, to have him in her bed, but what would have happened if Miles had found something better? Someone who could give him what Ali never did in all those years? Would Alison have understood how important he really was to him or let him fly away from her? Liam had eyes always and only for one person, but that person never looked at him, her attention was focused on someone else, and Liam had done nothing but remain silent, let that love consume him silently until he met her, Ellen. She was everything a man could want in a woman, she consumed him, turned him around in her hands. But what would have happened if that love, that little flash of light had returned when he least expected it? If he had awakened in him that something he thought was lost forever? Who would have chosen Liam?