Apocalyptic Chef Awakening

No one knew that I was the Thorn pack’s head Alpha’s soulmate. He and Carol, who had been best friends since they were kids, were very close. Everyone in the pack thought they were soulmates while I was just a mistress threatening their bond. To protect Carol’s reputation, Barnett lied to the pack, claiming Carol was carrying his pup. This made our child illegitimate. When I confronted him in pain, demanding why, he explained, “Carol is known for her gentle and quiet nature. If our packmates knew she was pregnant without a mate, they would shame her. She's too fragile to go through all this.” For the first time, I looked at the man I thought was my mate and questioned if the Moon Goddess had made a mistake. Later on, while Barnett was away gathering herbs for Carol, the elders forced me to terminate my pregnancy, branding our pup as a disgrace to the Thorn pack. By the time Barnett returned, our pup was gone, and so was I.

"Interested in having a date with me? Hurry up and get over here!" Elliot Coleman sends me a photo of a venue that's decorated romantically. It's followed by that sentence and an address. He and his friends laugh hysterically when I arrive in a carefully selected dress. "I told you, right? She'd come running with just a single sentence! Trust me, she'll do whatever I want her to do!" Elliot ignores my embarrassment and publicly confesses his feelings for Isabelle Stevens. He even falsely accuses me of refusing to leave him alone and tries to chase me off. Then, he turns pale when my newlywed husband arrives and shields me.

To save my wife, my lungs were pierced by a knife, leaving lasting consequences. When I fell ill and struggled to breathe, she said I was dramatic and went on a business trip with her childhood friend. When she returned, I found a man's underwear in her suitcase that did not belong to me. I calmly made the call: "Director, I've made up my mind. I'm going to assist in Avrika." Later, at the airport, she bent down, publicly lowering her head and begging for my forgiveness.

My mom had a sudden heart attack, and the medical bills were piling up faster than I could breathe. I was desperate, so I turned to my rich boyfriend, hoping he could help, or at least offer some kind of solution. But instead of the support I expected, he unleashed a tirade that hit harder than anything I'd ever heard. "So this is why you're with me? Just for my money? You're no different from those other women throwing themselves at me. You're all the same—pathetic and shameless!" Before I could even react, he shoved me out the door. Later, when he finally understood the full story, he handed me a bank card, no questions asked. "Candice," he said quietly, his tone almost remorseful. "The password is your birthday." I didn't say a word. I just let the card drop onto the floor and walked away without looking back.

Ever since my CEO husband returned from his business trip, he's been acting strange. His hugs are stiff, and his kisses are empty. Even when we're intimate, something just feels off. When I ask him why, he just smiles and says he's tired from work. But everything falls into place the moment I see his first love stepping out of his Maybach, her body covered in hickeys. That's when I finally give up. I don't argue or cry. I just smile… and tear up the 99th love coupon. Once, he wrote me a hundred love letters. On our wedding day, we made a promise—those letters would become 100 love coupons. As long as there were coupons left, I'd grant him anything he asked. Over the four years of our marriage, every time he left me for his first love, he'd cash in one. But what he doesn't know is that there are only two left.

The seventh time Claire Fisher bailed on our marriage license appointment, I finally cut her out of my life—for good. From then on, if she was at a party, I wasn't. When she was scheduled to perform at our college's anniversary celebration, I made sure to leave early. The moment my company announced a collaboration with hers, I resigned without a second thought. Even on Christmas Eve, when she showed up at my parents' house with gifts, I slipped out with a half-hearted excuse about "visiting a friend." I blocked her number. Deleted her from my contacts. Burned every bridge and salted the earth behind me. No calls. No texts. No social media. I didn't reach out. She couldn't reach me. Simple as that. For the better part of my life, I was hopelessly in love with her—waiting on her, caring for her, putting her first in every way that mattered. I gave her all of me without ever holding back. But after the seventh time she left me sitting alone at the City Hall, something inside me broke. I was done. If that meant spending the rest of my life alone, so be it. Better that than sitting in an empty apartment, listening to the silence, holding on to hope for someone who never planned to show up.

The war between vampires and werewolves has raged for centuries. But Dorian, the most revered vampire prince, shattered every rule and bound himself to me—a werewolf. The Elders punished him for it. For this, he was chained in sacred silver for days on end. Forced to drink the blood of beasts. He nearly died in a baptism of holy water. The pain was absolute. But when he saw me again, his eyes were bloodshot as he kissed my tears away. "The moment we bonded, I made a vow," he whispered. "You are my eternal mate. I will never forsake you." Finally, his family—the Valkyries—agreed. But they had one condition. He could leave the vampire world with me. But first, he had to sleep with Liliana, the pureblood noblewoman. He had to give his family a new, powerful heir. Dorian held me, his voice tight with desperation. "Please, Freya. Just wait a little longer. A few more years, and we can go to the human world. We can have our eternity." I waited. Night after night, he went to her bed. A hundred nights of betrayal passed before she finally conceived. But their daughter, Aria, was born without the proper bloodline mark. She couldn't be the heir. They had to have another. I endured another two hundred nights of their betrayal. Liliana was pregnant again. But on Aria's first birthday, sunlight somehow flooded her room. She was dying. Everyone thought I did it. I was locked in a cellar lined with silver. Dorian's face was a mask of pain and exhaustion as he confronted me. "I told you we could leave after the next child was born. You're the only one here immune to the sun. Why would you hurt my daughter?!" Tears streamed down my swollen face as I tried to deny it, but the silver poison burning in my bones had already stolen my voice. By the time the cellar door opened again, the wolf inside me was fading. I forced myself to my feet and walked toward the Valkyrie Elders. This eternal bond he promised? I was done.

My mother-in-law and I were trapped during an earthquake overseas. The rescue team knew that my husband had a private plane nearby and asked me to contact him, but I could only shake my head in rejection of the idea. In my last life, I tried my hardest to call him and get him to come save us. My mother-in-law and I were saved, but my husband’s true love got angry and went out to let off some steam. The incident ended with her being tortured to death. In front of his mother, my husband said that his lover deserved it. Yet, on the anniversary of her death, he killed me the way she had died. “I’ve always known that it was your scheme. You have to die as Shevonne did!” This time round, when my husband took his lover on a private plane to admire the cityscape at night, he found out everything that had happened and went mad.

A group of unwelcome visitors suddenly show up at a relative's funeral. The man in the lead claims to be my wife's boyfriend and wants to punish me. Apparently, I'm her fresh-faced lover. I don't want this to turn into a big deal because we're at a funeral, so I tell him we'll settle this after everything's over. Unexpectedly, my wife's boyfriend causes a huge fuss and instructs his men to pin me to the ground, wanting me to get on my knees and grovel at his feet. The rest of my relatives are unmoved by this. They watch as my legs get broken. I sneer and say, "Your girlfriend bought this urn for my mom. She spent a fortune on this, you know!" Sure enough, the man is furious. He clamors and wreaks havoc, ultimately smashing the urn to pieces. "How dare you parasites latch onto my girlfriend and try to exploit her! Don't think you're getting a cent out of her!" What he doesn't know is that the "mom" whose funeral is being held is my wife's mother and my mother-in-law. The funeral that is crashing is hers, and her urn is the one he's just smashed.

My husband lies to me about working late on Christmas Day. I know he wants to give me a surprise—I saw a jewelry set worth millions of dollars in his pocket. However, all I receive is the news of him pretending to be Santa Claus as he delivers a gift to his female secretary. She flaunts it on social media. "You're the most precious Christmas gift I've gotten." My husband changes the background photo on his social media to a photo of them together. I smile and like the post. Later, the secretary comes to me and smugly says she's pregnant. Meanwhile, I pull out a diagnosis report verifying that my husband is sterile. "Checkmate!" She visibly panics.