Attack On Titan: Junior High Season 2

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.

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.

I don't inform Hunter Nabb when I'm bitten by a rabid dog in the late stages of my pregnancy. Instead, I call the police. Why? Because he got into an accident when he hurried to me in my past life. It killed his junior. He was depressed for a day but quickly bounced back. He cared for me until I recovered. I thought the rumors of amorosity between him and his junior was just a figment of my imagination. However, the day I gave birth, he locked me in a cage, allowing a rabid dog to attack me and the baby. He looked down at me imperiously, his tone cold and ruthless. "You can trick everyone, but not me. Would a dog have bitten you if you hadn't provoked it? Do you know you killed Willow with your dirty tricks? She was pregnant with my child when she died!" When I open my eyes again, I'm taken back to when the rabid dog bites me.

In my previous life, I was born at the stroke of a cold, pitch-black midnight on New Year's Day, an omen the old town whispered about. They called me a Deathbringer's child, destined to guide the souls of the stillborn to rest. From the age of six, I carried small coffins alone to the graveyard by the church, burying them in silence. Each time, when I reached into the velvet shroud that wrapped the tiny casket, I would find a golden coin resting inside. My mother sold those coins for money, buying my brother a grand mansion, while leaving me behind in the crumbling family house to keep doing the work. No one expected the world of Haunts to descend. However, those coins turned out to be tokens of command, keys that bound the Haunts of the apocalypse to my will. With them, I became the Empress of the End, feared by all, ruling with every resource at my command.

When my adopted sister, Alayna Ewing, hears that I'm with pup, she specifically gives me the body oil she's made. I accept it with a smile on my face. But later on, I smear the oil all over the belly of the old lady next door, who's diagnosed with a uterine tumor. After all, I have gotten reborn on this very day. In my past life, Alayna had formed a mate bond with Misael Finch, the Alpha of the Darkspire pack. She desperately needed to bear an heir for Alpha Misael in order to strengthen her position as the Luna. Unfortunately, her being an Omega meant that it'd be very difficult for her to conceive. So, she hatched a scheme against me, a newly pregnant she-wolf. Alayna bribed a dark sorcerer to cast a surrogate pregnancy curse on me. As long as I smelled something that she made, the pup in my womb would be transferred into her womb instantly. I spent entire pregnancies caring for my pup meticulously. I even endured the pain of countless shots in order to keep my pup safe. But whenever I was about to give birth, my pup would still end up disappearing. Alayna, on the other hand, gave birth to three heirs who inherited powerful bloodlines from their father. Thanks to that, her position as the Luna was greatly strengthened, and she got to live a lavish and comfortable life. In the end, Alayna had slandered me by claiming that I was overcome by lust during my pregnancy, so I ended up having passionate moments with Rogues. That was how I lost my pup every single time. With my reputation in tatters, I was exiled from the pack and forced to live the remainder of my days as a Rogue. In the end, I froze to death in winter. Now that I'm reborn, I shall grant Alayna her wish, seeing as she really wants an heir of her own. The healers have mentioned that it's their first time seeing such a huge uterine tumor, after all. Oh, I can't imagine what sort of expression Alayna will wear when she finds out that she's given birth to such a big tumor!

Everyone in the underworld knew Rosalie Thorne, the "Thorn Principessa" of the North. Wild, rebellious, notorious. Street racing, high-stakes gambling, guns, and drinking, she had mastered them all. The rose-and-thorn tattoo on the nape of her neck drove countless men wild. But what they didn't know was that for Rocco, the new mob boss of the South, a single sentence, "I prefer a more obedient woman," was all it took. At his word, I had the tattoo lasered off and swapped my leathers for long, conservative dresses. I am Rosalie. For five years, I hid my identity and played the porcelain doll Rocco wanted. Until the night he eliminated all his rivals and was crowned the new Don of the South. That was when he let his men bow to another woman, hailing her as their "Donna." I watched Rocco. The same hands that had just executed a traitor were now gently placing a pair of red high heels on the feet of his adoptive sister, Vivian. "Rosalie, she has a temper. She'll make a scene if she doesn't get the title." "You're the good one, the obedient one. Just let her have this." That day, I walked straight out into the rain and never looked back. I was never truly obedient. I just made myself smaller for him. My family had already chosen a husband for me. They had been waiting five years, just for me to say yes.

I was nine months along and ready to give birth, but my husband, Sean Conner, had me locked in the basement storage room and told me to hold the baby in. He said it was because his late brother’s wife, Quinn Faber, was also due today. Years ago, Sean and his brother had agreed that the first child born to the Conners would be raised as the heir and inherit the family inheritance. “Quinn’s baby must come first,” Sean said as if it were nothing. “She lost her husband and has nothing. You already have my love. It’s only right that the inheritance goes to her child.” The pain from the contractions folded me over, and I cried, begging him to take me to the hospital. He wiped my tears with a dangerously calm voice. “Stop the act,” he snapped. “I always knew you didn’t love me. All you care about is money and status. You forced labor to happen early so you could steal my nephew’s place… How can you be so cruel?” White-faced and shaking, I managed to whisper, “I can’t control when a baby comes. It’s a coincidence. I swear I don’t care about the inheritance. I love you!” He let out a cold laugh. “If you loved me, you wouldn’t have pushed Quinn to sign that contract relinquishing her child’s inheritance. Fine. Once she has her baby, I’ll come back for you. After all, the child in your belly is my blood.” Sean stayed outside Quinn’s delivery room. Only after the newborn arrived did he remember me. He ordered his secretary to take me to the hospital, but the secretary’s voice trembled as he said. “Madam… and the baby… They’re both gone…” At that moment, Sean lost his mind.

I've waited five years for my mafia fiance, Daniele Moretti, while he keeps pushing our wedding back again and again. I've turned down every man who approaches me and put up with all the snide comments from high society. On the eve of exchanging our marriage alliance contract, thanks to a bet with his lover, Daniele decides it's hilarious to switch the groom's name. He replaces himself with his uncle, Samuele Moretti, a man who is practically on his deathbed. Daniele laughs as he brags to his friends, "Regina's obsessed with me. When she finds out, she'll cry and beg me to change it back." I stand just outside the door and hear every word. On the day of the wedding, I take Samuele's arm—the "sickly wreck" Daniele keeps mocking—and walk him up the aisle. When Daniele finally shows up late with his lover and tries to turn the ceremony into a spectacle, I slap him across the face. Now he's the one who has to call me Aunt Regina.

They said the boarding schools are a training ground for the best students but they also said it was a deep quagmire for students who forgot what their motives were. But, who told the seniors that the junior girls were their servants? Who brought up referring to juniors as fags? Who said the 'journey of no return' was fun? Who claimed that 10 minutes was enough for mealtimes? Who said siestas' were opportunities for punishments? "Come you junior girl, why did you walk past the front of your seniors' classroom" "Senior I..." "Go down low" And so another junior girl gets into a day's worth of troubles.

She had her whole junior year mapped out. Volleyball. Late nights with her friends. Maybe telling her brother's best friend the thing she's been not-saying for two years. Then her left leg started hurting and a Tuesday trip to the ER rewrote everything. Sloane Deshazo, sixteen, has spent her whole life being easy to love. No drama, no needs, no complications. Ewing Sarcoma, stage 2, doesn't care about any of that. And neither, it turns out, does Chandler Pavelka, who keeps showing up without being asked, in yesterday's jeans and an inside-out hoodie, like staying is the most obvious thing in the world. Sloane knows how to fight. She's learning, slower, how to let someone stay. But remission isn't guaranteed, and some days the scariest thing isn't the diagnosis. It's wanting something this much.