As I Was Moving Ahead

She underwent a death experience—at the hands of the family she cared for most, who then sold her off. At eight years old, Seraphina Valeza was adopted from an orphanage by the Hawthorne family, a run-down third-rate family in Lunada City. She lived for fifteen years there, always careful, thankful for a house that was not her home. She was an excellent student, kept her sufferings to herself, and obeyed them in return for their "kindness." When the Hawthorne family was on the verge of bankruptcy, they chose survival over conscience. Seraphina was forced to marry Julian Moreau, the heir of a second-rate elite family. The marriage was hell. Behind closed doors, Julian humiliated her, controlled her every move, and crushed her dignity. In public, she was paraded as a trophy wife; in private, she was nothing more than a disposable tool. Once Julian seized full control of the Hawthorne family, Seraphina lost even her last value. With no way out, she resorted to suicide. But destiny wanted otherwise and gave her another chance. She found herself in the same spot as she was on the day of her marriage. This time she did neither crying nor begging. Instead, she smiled and switched the groom. In front of stunned guests, Seraphina walked past Julian and stopped before a man sitting casually at the banquet table, dressed out of place and enjoying the food as if the wedding had nothing to do with him. Lucien Cross. The annoying guy she constantly quarreled with in college. The man who cried while carrying her dying body in her past life. The one whose love she came to realize onlqy when it was too late. This time, Seraphina will not let him go. And all those who wronged her will be punished, without exception.

Two years ago, as a graduate of Werewolf Medical School, I volunteered to go to the most remote and poorest pack, as it had always been my dream to help werewolf patients in need. I heard from my teacher that the werewolves in the Rogue Pack were the poorest and that their living conditions were the worst. Most of the werewolves there were old and weak, so I volunteered to go to that pack as soon as I graduated. After I arrived, I helped them build an infirmary and even set up a blood station. Every year, I led them in voluntary blood donations. But one time—right after I had taken a short break following a blood donation—they turned on me. They slandered me, calling me a selfish and heartless healer. Worse still, they accused me of faking illness, claiming I was lying comfortably in bed while patients were dying—refusing to lift a finger to save them. Not only that, they stormed into the infirmary, seized all my herbs and equipment, and completely trashed the place I had built for them with my own hands. Recalling the days I had spent day and night healing them—only to see my infirmary destroyed and my dream shattered—I let out a bitter smile. I picked up the phone and called the dean of my home pack. "I'm ready to return," I said. "I want to serve the patients in our own pack." Then, without a trace of regret, I left that place behind. However, after I gave up, the whole pack regretted it and begged me to return.

I was the stand-in who looked most like my husband's first love. He put me through countless plastic surgeries, both major and minor ones, until I became her exact likeness. But then, she came back from the dead. All it took was her saying, "I don't like anyone looking like me," and he sent me right back to the operating table once more. I begged him, telling him that my body couldn't handle it anymore. Alas, he only looked at me with irritation. "Seeing that cheap imitation of her face just disgusts me," he sneered. "No matter how close you come, you'll never be her." In the end, I died on that operating table. Yet, he went mad, trying desperately to recall what I once looked like.

I was born broken. My Alpha mother was the one who branded me. She said emotion was a sin. A weakness. Especially for a werewolf. Especially for an Alpha’s heir. The day we were born, she clamped emotion-suppressing collars around our necks. Mine and my twin sister's. The slightest flicker of emotion, and the collar flashed red. My mother would then push the button, injecting me with a diluted "silver solution" to suppress my feelings. But my sister Cassia's collar? Always a calm, steady blue. Even when she shattered Mom's precious moonstone, it just pulsed gently. And me? I’d just whisper, "Mom, the thunder scares me," and my collar would erupt in a violent red. Then came the sting of silver poison burning through my blood.. I used to argue. But Mom always said the same thing. "The data doesn't lie. Pain is a teacher. This is for your own good." After thousands of these injections, I started to believe it, too. That I was born out of control. The night of the alliance's Moon Goddess Festival, Mom was taking my sister to the rooftop party. Something scared me during the day. The collar flashed red, and my mother started the punishment. But this time, the collar malfunctioned. It shot a dose a thousand times stronger into my neck. I collapsed on the carpet, begging, "Mother, the collar... it hurts so much... help me." My collar was flashing a frantic red. My mother just looked down at me, drenched in a cold sweat, and pressed the button for the maximum dose. "You'd lose control like this just for attention? You're a lost cause." She turned, took my sister, and slammed the door. I couldn't help but think, Mom must be right. The collar is red. It doesn't really hurt. I'm just being dramatic, looking for pity again. I'm sorry, Mom. In my next life, I'll be the perfect daughter you always wanted.

I was the pack's chief healer, but my fiancé Domine was just an ordinary warrior from the neighboring pack. I didn't care about that because I believed in the guidance of the moon goddess. I worked hard to earn money, bought a house, and supported us both. But just a week before our Mating Ceremony, I discovered that Domine wasn't some ordinary warrior, but actually the Alpha of neighboring pack. He hid his identity to get close to me just to seek revenge for his first love. Three years ago, his first love secretly entered the forbidden zone and ate poisonous fruit. I fought with all my might to save her life, but she framed me for intentionally poisoning her and causing her to lose her wolf. Domine believed her. He even promised to publicly extract my heart’s blood during the ceremony to supplement Ella's strength and turn me into a complete cripple. He even stole my father’s life-saving medicine to make scented candles for her, which caused the death of my only relative. After discovering the truth, I didn't hesitate to turn around and leave. But Domine, who harbored a deep hatred for me, completely broke down. He knelt in the snow for three days and three nights, begging me to look at him just one more time.

BOOK 1: THE MAN I WAS NEVER MEANT TO LOVE (KIARA AND NOAH) BOOK 2: THE WOMAN WHO MADE ME IN LOVE (ZOREN AND ELYSE) Lumaki si Kiara sa mundong puno ng bawal, bawal magkamali, bawal lumaban, bawal magmahal nang sarili niyang paraan. Kaya nang ipilit ng mga magulang niya ang arranged marriage niya kay Zoren, ang cold at dutiful heir, wala siyang nagawa kundi sundin ito, kahit na ramdam niyang hindi iyon ang buhay na gusto niya. Pero ang hindi nila alam ang tunay na panganib ay hindi ang lalaking papakasalan niya, kung hindi ang kapatid nito na si Noah, isang rebelde, wild, at mapusok. Lalaking parang unos na biglang pumasok sa tahimik niyang mundo. He is everything she should stay away from, a man who rides too fast, lives too freely, and kisses like sin. Pero siya lang ang nakakita sa Kiara na matagal nang nakakulong. Siya ang nagpakita ng kalayaan, saya, at pagmamahal na hindi kailanman inalok sa kaniya. Hanggang unti-unti, nahulog siya sa lalaking hinding-hindi dapat naging bahagi ng buhay niya. Pero may tinatagong lihim si Noah, isang katotohanang itinago ng pamilya nito para protektahan ang pangalan nila. A secret that proves he was never ment to be in Kiara's world... or in her heart. Kakayanin ba nilang lumaban sa ano mang unos na kanilang mararanasan? Kahit na alam nilang bawal, mali, at madaming tutol dito. He was the man she was never meant to love pero siya rin ang lalaking hindi niya kayang pakawalan.

I was finally pregnant after three years of marriage. I was going to head to where my husband works with a lunchbox in my hand to tell him the good news. But I ended up being mistaken as a mistress by his secretary. She dumped the food I had prepared on my head, stripped my clothes off, and continued to hit me until I had a miscarriage. “You’re just a servant. How dare you seduce Mr. Gates and bear his child? “Today, I’ll make sure you suffer the consequences of being a mistress!” She then went to my husband asking for a reward. “Mr. Gates, I took care of a servant who wanted to seduce you. How are you going to reward me?”

She gave him everything, her love, her light, her life. Aurora healed Rowan’s broken soul, stood by him through darkness, and asked for nothing in return. But instead of love, she was met with hatred, indifference, and pain. Rowan’s heart belonged to Vivian, the woman who vanished without a trace, and he blamed Aurora, his fated mate, for her disappearance. His love for one blinded him to the truth of the other. Now Aurora is gone… and Rowan is left with nothing but guilt, madness, and the ghost of the woman who loved him more than life itself. Will he ever forgive himself, or is this his punishment for destroying his own destiny?

I'm the daughter of Don Falcone. After I got back from studying abroad, my family threw a welcome-home banquet, conveniently setting me up to meet the fiancé my father had handpicked for me—Santino Moretti. My father praised the guy to the skies in his letters: he was the heir to the Moretti family, elegant, ruthless, drop-dead gorgeous, and holding half the city’s underground operations in the palm of his hand. I arrived at the Elysium Hotel right on the dot. Just as I was about to take a seat, a hand shoved me hard. A woman's shrill voice pierced my ear. "Livia, what's a Sicilian peasant like you doing here? This is the Imperial Suite. Do you think you even deserve to breathe the air in a place like this?" I recognized the woman. It was Bella, a bitch who had always had it out for me back in college. She was clearly trying to humiliate me. Instead of getting mad, I smirked. "Whether I deserve to be here or not—is that for you to decide?" Bella sneered, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'm Mr. Santino's personal assistant. Today, Mr. Santino is hosting the eldest daughter of the Falcone family here. This isn't an occasion for bottom-feeding trash like you." "Be smart and crawl back to your slum." I pulled out my phone and dialed my so-called fiancé. I wanted to ask him if it was a tradition in the Moretti family to let their dogs bark at the front door.

In order to protect my father, I was tortured for ten hours, but my father was busy celebrating his adopted daughter’s eighteenth birthday. With my dying breath, I called my father and said, “Dad, it’s my birthday today. Could you wish me a happy birthday?” “You crazy monster! You got your mother killed in order to celebrate your birthday! How could you still ask me to celebrate your birthday? You should just die!” With that said, he hung up. The next day, my corpse was placed in different flower pots and put in front of a police station. My father was in charge of inspecting my corpse, and he could immediately tell that the murderer did this for revenge. What they did to me was cruel and made a mockery of the police’s authority. But he did not manage to tell that the deceased was the daughter he hated.