Attack Titan Mask

My mate and my brother hated me for twelve years. They believed I stole their precious Sarah's herbal research and bullied her for twelve years into silence. At my marking ceremony, they exposed my "crimes" to the entire supernatural world. "She's nothing but a bully who torments her packmates and a thief who stole the herb formula from Sarah!" But Sarah smiled through her tears: "The formula doesn't matter anymore." "As long as it saved our wolves from silver poisoning, what does it matter who created it?" "I've already forgiven her." She became the pack's angel of mercy. I was condemned by thousands, until the very wolf I'd saved with my medicine poured silver water over my head. In my despair, I dragged Sarah down with me into death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in my second year of high school. Sarah was slicing her arm with a silver blade, smiling as she asked: "Have you thought about how you'll apologize to me?" Something in me snapped. My Alpha power surged forth, crushing her to her knees. I grabbed the blade: "Let me show you what real cuts look like."

Selene Wyndham falls in love with the merman, Zirion, at first sight. Despite the gossip and criticism, she rescues him from the beast pit. Although he's indifferent toward her, she never complains. She merely wishes that he never again suffers pain and hardship. She even vows to protect him for a lifetime. This goes on until the day he personally sends her into the beast pit, where she's torn apart and killed by a savage beast. Only then does Selene realize that from the very beginning, everything has been an elaborate scheme set by her younger sister, Vanessa Wyndham, to become the head of the family. And Zirion was Vanessa's very first pawn to set her plan in motion. "How does it feel to be sent into the beast pit by the very man you love, Selene?" As a set of sharp teeth pierce through her body, Selene's consciousness fades away. When she opens her eyes again, she has returned to the moment when she rescues Zirion from the beast pit. This time, Selene drives Zirion away and saves a young wolfman instead. She then makes him her personal guard. One day, the rain is pouring heavily when the once lofty and proud Zirion kneels at Selene's feet, ignoring the mud and filth on him. He digs out a scale from his body and begs in a sorrowful voice for her to spare him another glance.

I gave everything to save my fated mate, Alpha Austen. I even lost our pups. Twice. But he gave all the credit to his adoptive sister, Seraphina. He called me weak. Useless. He always chose her tears over my scars. He even stood by as her poison shattered my wolf spirit. As I lay dying, I watched him hold my killer and whisper, “I know it wasn’t your fault. This was her fate.” Then I opened my eyes. And I was back. Back before it all went wrong. This time, I’m done explaining. Done sacrificing. Right in front of him, I disguised a potion that would sever our mate bond as a "blessing elixir" and held it to his lips. “My love,” I said, “drink this. It’ll help you comfort your poor little sister.” He drank it without a second thought. In thirty days, under the Blood Moon, our mate bond will be severed for good. But only when I was truly gone did he finally regret it. He knelt before me, again and again, calling himself my fated mate. Begging me to take him back.

Five years into my marriage to Dante Moretti, the Don of the Chicago Outfit, the entire underworld knew he loved me more than life itself. He’d had a violin—for me—tattooed right next to his family crest, a symbol of loyalty that could never be erased. Until I got the photo from his mistress. A cocktail waitress, sprawled naked in his arms, her skin marred by the dark bruises of rough sex. She had scrawled her name right next to the violin he’d gotten for me. And my husband had let her. "Dante says only being inside me makes him feel like a man anymore. You can’t even get him hard anymore, can you, sweet Alessia? Maybe it’s time to step aside." I didn't reply. I just made a single call. “I need a new identity. And a plane ticket out.”

The night before my mating ceremony with Alpha Garrett Northwood of the Silverpine Pack, he held a grand Luna ceremony for my silver-poisoned stepsister behind my back. He held Serena close under the starlit sky, his smile tender in a way I'd never seen: "You're the only one I truly love, Serena." "Even though Maya and I are already registered as mates with the Alpha Council, she'll never have my heart. You're the only one I recognize as my Luna." The pack members cheered and blessed them as they completed the ceremony with joy. I watched it all without crying or screaming. Instead, I quietly scheduled an abortion appointment. I've loved Garrett Northwood for twelve years, ever since I first shifted as an adult. But his heart still only had room for my stepsister Serena. If that's how it was, I'd let go. Later, I joined the secluded Herbal Research Center of the Alpha Council. I left Garrett nothing but a mate bond dissolution agreement. But for some reason, Garrett—who had always treated me with disdain—suddenly went crazy begging me not to leave.

Isang video ng boyfriend ko na nagpo-propose sa kanyang secretary ang nag-trending. Lahat ay kilig na kilig at sinasabing napaka-romantic at nakakaantig ang eksena. Nag-post pa mismo ang secretary niya sa social media: "Matagal kitang hinintay, at buti na lang hindi ako sumuko. Ipagkakatiwala ko ang buhay ko sayo, Mr. Emerson." Isa sa mga komento ang nagsabi: "Diyos ko, sobrang sweet nito! CEO at secretary—bagay na bagay sila!" Hindi ako umiyak o nag-eskandalo. Sa halip, tahimik kong isinara ang webpage at hinarap ang nobyo ko para humingi ng paliwanag. Doon ko siya narinig na nakikipag-usap sa mga kaibigan niya. "Wala akong choice. Mapipilitan siyang pakasalan ang isang taong hindi niya mahal kung hindi ko siya tinulungan." "Eh si Vicky? Siya ang totoong girlfriend mo. Hindi ka ba natatakot na magalit siya?" "Eh ano naman kung magalit siya? Pitong taon na kaming magkasama—hindi niya ako kayang iwan." Sa huli, ikinasal ako sa parehong araw ng kasal nila. Nang magkasalubong ang aming mga sasakyan, nagpalitan kami ng bouquet ng kanyang secretary. Nang makita niya ako, labis siyang nasaktan at humagulgol.

He didn't just want a seat at the table. He wanted the heart of the home. The Sinclair-Wellesley name meant old money, high art, and a fragile, curated peace. Milo, the youngest and most "cherished" of the clan, was the crown jewel of that peace—a soft-spoken academic with porcelain skin and a soul made of books. He was a boy meant for quiet libraries, not the jagged edges of the corporate world. Then came Jackson Vance. A titan built of steel, gasoline, and unbridled ambition, Jax didn't ask for permission—he took.

My husband was tall and handsome, but he had no money to pay his debts. During the five years of our marriage, I sold my house and car for him. We then moved to a dark and humid basement that was only 300 square feet in size. When I got pregnant, I wanted to go for checkups, but he said that there was no need for it, as it was a waste of money. So I gave birth to a baby with a congenital heart condition. In order to get the money for his surgery, I worked three jobs every day. At that time, I noticed that my husband bought a mansion worth 40 million dollars for an influencer, and I finally realized that my husband was no orphan, but the son of the richest man in the country.

On the way to my twin boys' parent-teacher conference, I'm informed that my sons, Ricky and Micky Stallone, have already been taken home by their parents. I'm immediately worried sick about their safety. However, when I look across the road, I suddenly catch sight of a very happy family of four—Ricky, Micky, my husband, Corbin Stallone, and his first love he could never forget, Ingrid Lacelle. Ricky and Micky both run into Ingrid's arms, cozying up to her and calling her "Mommy". Meanwhile, Corbin gently kisses Ingrid's forehead with a doting expression on his face. I join the crowd of envious onlookers, watching the beginning of the end of my marriage.

On our fifth wedding anniversary, my husband, Damian Pyke, once again left me for his first love. He said, "Taking care of a child alone isn't easy for Waverly. You're both women—can't you show her some understanding?" Not only was I willing to understand Waverly Benson, but I was also ready to step aside entirely so they could raise her child together. So, I packed my bags and applied for an overseas architecture program through my workplace. However, he eventually regretted it, crying and begging me not to go.