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My fated mate, Alpha Ronan Thornwood, gets betrayed by his best friend, Asher Crowe, during a pack battle. In order to preserve his position as the Alpha, Ronan begs me to travel to the Onyx Wolf pack with him in search of help. I accept his request immediately. But three days before our journey is set to begin, Ronan gets shot in the leg by a silver arrow when he's hunting a deer for me. In order to not delay our trip, he suggests that I travel to the pack on my own. Out of guilt toward Ronan, I decide to drop by the Healing Sanctuary to visit Ronan before the journey. But that's when I overhear his conversation with Asher. "So you first pretended to have bad blood with me, then you pretended to get hurt? All this just to trick Freya into traveling to the Onyx Wolf pack? You do realize that in order to get there, one must travel through the Dark Forest, right? Rumors have it that ferocious Rogues prowl that place! "You and Freya have grown up with each other since you two were pups! Do you really have the heart to let her embark on such a dangerous journey?" As Ronan unties the bandages around his leg, he replies coldly, "Those are just rumors. It's not like there really are Rogues infesting the forest. "Anyway, Freya is too docile and boring. The thought of being bound to her forever after she turns 18 suffocates me to no end! Willow, on the other hand, is different. She might be an Omega, but she's passionate and bold, not to mention she's also interesting and outgoing!" "So, are you going to abandon Freya and be with Willow?" "No way!" Ronan replies firmly. "Freya is my Luna. I just want to spend an unforgettable time with Willow before bonding with Freya." It turns out the pack battle, the betrayal, and Ronan's injury are all lies. Ronan wants to trick me into leaving the pack just so he can be with another she-wolf. After drying my tears, I change my destination. Now, I'm heading toward the Moon Goddess' Sacred Ground. I'm born with the mark of the Moon Goddess, which automatically makes me a Luna. But this mark doesn't just represent the title of the Luna—it also represents the most prestigious position in a pack, which is the divine messenger. From now on, I have nothing to do with Ronan.

My wife, Charlene Everett, and I used to work in the same hospital. I was known for being a kind doctor as well as a passionate teacher, while she was known for being a smart, fiery, and protective professional. All was well for the both of us until Charlene started caring about a clumsy trainee doctor called Zachary Wordsworth. I underestimated their relationship until the day he made a grave medical error, and she threw me to the wolves to protect him from his own mistakes. Indeed, Zachary cut a patient's womb out of her body mistakenly. The patient committed suicide not long after finding out. To avoid him being disciplined by the hospital, Charlene had the nurse in charge modify the records to have me as the surgery’s lead doctor. The patient’s family thought I was the one at fault and sued me. Everyone cursed me for being an unqualified doctor. Netizens made a huge ruckus online and started pressuring the hospital director to fire me. Helpless and in pain, I confronted Charlene, but she casually said, “Zach can’t handle the responsibility of failing the surgery. You’re more experienced, so you’ll be able to weather this storm.” When I later stumbled upon Charlene tangled up with Zachary, I could only let out a bitter laugh. I thus decided it was time for me to stop being kind.

Liam Dunlap, my girlfriend's junior apprentice, bragged that he could defuse a bomb with one hand. Then he slipped. The timer began to race. Terrified, he dropped his tools and ran. I stepped in at great risk and saved the hostage. For that, I was commended. Liam, on the other hand, was condemned across the internet and faced severe disciplinary action. My girlfriend tried to speak up for him, but I stopped her. "If you defend him now, not only will your promotion be revoked—people online will come after you too." Later, unable to bear the pressure, Liam jumped to his death. Every line of his suicide note blamed my girlfriend for not standing by him. She said nothing. She simply burned the letter in silence. After that, she rose step by step from a frontline officer to a model figure in the police force. On the day I was kidnapped by criminals, she came in person to defuse the bomb strapped to me—using only one hand. She looked coldly at the device on my chest and said, "See? It can be done with one hand. Why did you all have to drive Liam to his death back then? If I had protected him at the time, the one in my position today… should have been him." The bomb detonated. I died on the spot. After I opened my eyes again, I saw her running around desperately for Liam. She didn't know—the hostage was the mayor's son.

From the time I could count coins, my parents hammered one lesson home—if a boy did not start saving young, he would never have enough to win himself a wife. They opened a bank account in my name, vowing that money would only ever flow in, never out. And so, every birthday bill and crumpled allowance found a home in that card. I kept funneling every hard-earned paycheck into that same old account even after I moved to the city to chase my own future. At that point, that habit was done more out of reflex than reason. However, I was blindsided by acute kidney failure after years of working myself to the bone. Suddenly, that money was not just savings—it was my lifeline. My dad's voice trembled on the phone. He claimed he had forgotten the password and urged me to just take out an online loan for now. I hauled myself to the bank, my feet still shaky from my dialysis treatment. I clutched my ID, determined to file a loss report and reset the password myself. The teller's words froze me in place. "Sir, this account was emptied six months ago." Panic surged through me. I demanded a full printout of every transaction. The statement of the most recent transfer glared up at me from the paper, stating, "Wedding fund for our precious daughter, Natalia Callahan, plus the down payment for her luxury car."

"Ahhhh," I moaned into the pillow, not wanting the neighbors to hear as they would immediately tell Mom about it. "Ahhhh," this time it came out louder as I felt a shockwave of ectasy and satisification go through my body. This was the best feeling ever. Suddenly, a gentle night breeze blew through my open window, My curtains fluttered open, and I looked up to find myself face to face with those breathtaking green eyes, they were like two emeralds glittering from his dark room, it was like they could see right through my soul, Aamon Blackwood!!! My heart skipped a beat as our eyes met across the distance. I felt a wave of panic wash over me. Had he seen everything? I tried to sit up, to cover myself, but it was too late. My bully, step brother had just seen me pleasuring myself! Gosh! * * * Haven is a simple wolf human hybrid girl living her simple life, she likes to publish erotic novel online under a hidden name. She secretly has been crushing on the ice hockey captain Ryder since they were in highschool but she has never gathered the guys to tell him. One day, her annoying stepbrother, Aamon discovers her secret and blackmails her into becoming his "servant". Will they keep their relationship strictly just slave and master? Or will they break all boundaries and fall into temptation?

My husband's ex, Sarah Miller, once ditched him to chase a rich guy. When she came back, she was crippled, dragging along two scrawny kids. The day I found out I was pregnant, Jake Carter demanded a divorce. "Sarah is too weak to manage alone, and her kids need someone. I've got to step up," he said. I nodded calmly and went straight to the hospital for an abortion. In my past life, I fought to keep the baby and refused the divorce, even exposing Sarah's dirty secrets to the world. Her reputation was ruined. She became a pariah, and eventually, she took her kids and ended it all. In her blood-soaked suicide note, she blamed me for driving her to despair. Thus, Jake hated me to the core. He hired thugs to assault me, posted the video online, and spread lies that I was a cheater. In the end, he threw me and our child into the sea. As I died, he snarled, "This is what you get for killing Sarah!" When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day he demanded a divorce. This time, I agreed on the spot. Jake was thrilled, dreaming of winning Sarah back. What he didn't know was that, in my past life, I uncovered why Sarah was dumped. Her private life was a mess, and she caught AIDS.

After I dropped out of school, my parents didn't pressure me to do anything. But Nicole Hicks kept calling nonstop. She was my boyfriend's childhood friend who had established a reputation as a genius. I was too busy helping out in the fields, growing vegetables, and splashing around in the creek, living my best carefree life. Writing code wasn't even on my mind. In my past life, she had turned in a project just one day before I did. Her codes were exactly the same as mine. Everyone called me a fraud and said I had stolen it. I tried to explain, but no one believed me. Later, she even did a livestream, accusing me online of being a school bully. People went wild. They didn't just come for me—they went after my whole family. Some obsessed troll chased my parents in a car, and they died in a crash. I couldn't take it anymore. I jumped off a high-rise, my eyes still wide open, refusing to accept the way it all ended. Even in my last moment, I couldn't figure it out. That code was mine. My hard work. So how did she manage to post it before me? When I opened my eyes again, I was back, right before everything fell apart.

Four years after my death, the true heiress won the Best Actress award, but her sex tape was once again spread like wildfire. My Best Actor boyfriend, Nicholas Jennings, kicked open the rented house where I used to live, hoping to make me clarify once again that it was me in the video, but all he saw was a complete mess. The landlord happened to pass by and, upon his inquiry, scolded him, "You’re talking about Astrid Rhode? She died four years ago! A man saw the sex tape posted online and came here to have some fun with her, but she would rather die than comply. In a fit of rage, he killed her." Nicholas did not believe it at all. He kicked our couple's mugs. "Astrid made you say that, didn't she? She stole Maddie's life just because she looked like her. Did she think that helping Maddie once would atone for her sins? Tell her that none of the children in her orphanage will live if I don't see her clarification video in two days!" He strode away, and I shook my head with a wry smile. The orphanage had long since been reduced to ashes in the fire, and the children had already passed on to their next lives. I had made a deal with Death, wanting to come back and see him one last time. However, now, it seemed that the deal was better left undone.

The floodwaters were about to swallow our home, yet my wife—the captain of the rescue team—took every last member with her to save the man she had always loved. That was when I realized she had been reborn too. In our previous life, the moment she heard I was in danger, she had rushed to save me without hesitation. Because of that, she missed his call. He fell into a depressive episode and took his own life. But before he died, he posted online, accusing me of bullying him throughout our school years—and of stealing the woman he loved. After his death, the internet turned on me. I became the target of relentless harassment. My wife said she didn't blame me. She treated me as she always had. Yet, on what would have been his birthday, she broke both my limbs—and my mother's as well. Then, in front of his grave, she shoved the two of us into a folded bathtub. "If I'd known you bullied Nathan all those years, I would never have married you! You could swim, yet you deliberately called me to save you. It's all your fault—Nathan wouldn't have killed himself otherwise!" I listened to my mother's agonized cries as despair swallowed me whole. And then I died. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the flood. This time, she could save her beloved. I won't stand in her way.

I had just left the hospital after undergoing a dilation and curettage procedure for uterine fibroids. On the bus, I happened to encounter a woman who was crying and claiming she had menstrual cramps and a terrible stomachache, asking me to give up my seat. But I refused. I never expected the woman to be the famous internet influencer, Bella Marsh. While I was completely unprepared, she started a livestream, and the next day, I was violently attacked online and pushed onto the trending searches. Netizens even dug up the record of my procedure at the hospital. “With a uterine wall that thin, it’s obvious she has had so many failed pregnancies.” “No wonder she was so shameless and refused to give up her seat—turns out she’s a despicable woman.” The so-called righteous netizens harassed me until I fell into depression, and even my boyfriend stepped forward to accuse me of being dirty and said he wanted to break up. Unable to endure the blow, I jumped from the rooftop, while the female influencer gained tens of millions of followers and began livestream selling, earning more money than she could count. Only after my death did I learn that the influencer had been my boyfriend’s childhood crush. To boost the popularity of her livestream, she and my boyfriend had deliberately staged the entire scene. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the very day Bella asked me to give up my seat.