Bias Or Prejudice

The stench of silver dust filled the air, and every breath seared my lungs. My broken body lay twisted among the jagged rocks of the abandoned silver mine, where even the strongest werewolf would feel their strength waning. Beside me, my mate’s first love, Sophia, whimpered softly. A shallow scrape marked her knee. The tunnel was collapsing. Only two people could pass through the exit at a time. Lucas did not hesitate to scoop Sophia in his arms and abandon me. His golden eyes, once filled with unwavering loyalty toward me, now burned with something colder—indifference. I reached out, my fingers trembling as they grasped the hem of his clothing. My voice was hoarse with despair. "Lucas… please… don't leave me here." “I am your mate. I’m carrying your pups.” He glanced at me with a clenched jaw and broke free, shoving me back onto the silver-laced ground. Agony burned through my veins, consuming my soul like fire. “Are you serious, Ava?! After pushing Sophia into this damn abyss and getting her injured, you still dare to compare with her.” “You know what?! You deserve to be left here and reflect on your mistakes!” With that, he vanished into the light, and the tunnel collapsed behind him. His words cut deeper than silver ever could, and the last thing I heard before darkness swallowed me was the sound of their retreating footsteps.

My parents, the wealthiest couple in the country, were famous philanthropists. I had to ask them for permission if I wanted to spend more than five bucks. The day I was diagnosed with terminal cancer, I asked them for 100 dollars, but instead of helping, they yelled at me for three hours. "What kind of disease could you get at your age? If you're going to ask for money, at least come up with a better excuse." "Do you know that 100 dollars could support children in poverty-stricken areas for a long time? Your sister is more sensible than you." I dragged my sick body for miles, back to the small basement I called home. But as I passed the mall, I saw my parents, live on a huge screen, spending a fortune to rent out Disneyland for my sister. I couldn't hold back the tears anymore. A hundred dollars wouldn't even cover one round of chemotherapy. I just wanted to buy a new outfit and leave with some dignity.

My brother brings home a scheming girlfriend. He wants to kick me out of the house for her sake and claims that everything at home belongs to him. I hand the company over with both hands and leave without hesitation. Less than a month later, my brother, who can't manage the company, grovels at my feet and begs me to return.

The doctor said I only had three days left to live. Acute liver failure. My only hope was an experimental clinical trial. It was extremely risky, but had the faintest sliver of a chance to survive. But my husband, David, gave the last available spot... to my adopted sister, Emma, also my daughter’s godmother. Her condition was still in its early stages. He said it was the "right decision," because she “deserved to live more.” I signed the papers to forgo treatment and took the high-dose painkillers prescribed by the doctor. The cost? My organs would shut down, and I would die. When I handed over the jewelry company I’d poured my heart into, along with all my designs, to Emma, my parents praised me, saying, “Now that’s what a good big sister should do.” When I agreed to divorce David so he could marry Emma, he said, “You’ve finally learned to be understanding.” When I told my daughter to call Emma ‘Mom,’ she clapped her hands and said, “Emma is such a gentle and kind mother!” When I gave all my assets to Emma, everyone in the family thought it was only natural. No one noticed anything was wrong with me. I’m just curious. Will they still be able to smile when they find out I'm dead?

After being reborn, I insisted on changing my arranged marriage partner from Connor Gregory to his younger uncle. My mother was shocked. She kept insisting that Connor’s younger uncle’s standards were far too high for him to ever take an interest in me. Besides, Connor and I had grown up together. I had always declared I would marry no one but him—so how could I suddenly choose someone else instead? What my mother didn’t know was that I had already died once. In my previous life, Connor did marry me, but we were only husband and wife in name. Three years into our marriage, I found out he had long since legally married my foster sister behind my back. When I confronted him, his response was: “You’re only fit to be a prop in this alliance. Rachel is my real wife.” So, in this life, I will never make the same mistake again.

An earthquake struck suddenly during our honeymoon. I suggested that we flee immediately. My husband’s former lover mocked me for being cowardly and paranoid. So, my husband dismissed my fears. I had no choice but to continue sightseeing with them. A fractured steel frame crashed down with an earsplitting clang and smashed into his former lover. She clung to me desperately as the rebars drove into my ribs one by one. Before I could cry out, my husband kicked me down when he saw his former lover in danger. “You wretch! If you hadn’t suggested this honeymoon spot, Lena wouldn’t have gotten hurt! “You knew there’d be an earthquake today. You did this on purpose!” The rebars pierced deeper into my ribs and made every breath I took excruciatingly painful. My husband pushed me aside, lifted his former lover into his arms, and stormed off without glancing back. “Before the aftershock hits, I’m taking Lena to the hospital! Then, I’ll call for rescue. “Stay here and reflect on your actions. This is your punishment for scheming against Lena!” I waited all night. He did not know that the torrential rains of the monsoon season had flooded the area. What awaited him was the bloated corpse of a pregnant woman.

My mother hated me, to the point that she wished I were dead. I knew I deserved to die. Sixteen years ago, if I hadn’t insisted on going out, my brother wouldn’t have died while trying to save me. Eventually, both of us got what we wished for. I got brain cancer. She had become a stranger to me as I forgot everything and went to die in blissful ignorance. Then, she went mad.

I am a pureblood succubus. Every seven days, desire consumes me. Stuart Newlin always complained that I clung to him too much, that I distracted him from his grand ambitions. Then, at the peak of my heat, when I needed him most, he blew me off. He chose to go to his female friend's prenatal appointment instead. The thing is, a succubus can't survive without being fed. Without that energy, that devotion… I wither. Unfortunate as it was to fall into the hands of a neglectful master, I had no choice but to seek another. My new keeper bore the bloodline of the Black Serpent. He had double the virility. Night and day, he poured himself into me. He worked tirelessly; I was more than satisfied. So when Stuart showed up with a massive bouquet of red roses, hoping to coax me back, what greeted him was the sight of me, flushed and glowing, curled up in another man's arms. His eyes burned with rage as he went mad, smashing everything in the house, raging that I was unfaithful, that I dared take another man to my bed. Smiling, I leaned into my new master's embrace and introduced them. "Let me make the introductions. You two have more in common than you think. After all, I've slept with both of you."

The mother of Mr. Burr, the hospital director, was critically ill and needed emergency surgery. My wife, wanting to help her beloved crush, Cedric Grey, take the spotlight, deliberately kept the surgery time from me. By the time I finally arrived—late, Mr. Burr stopped me from entering the operating room and scolded me harshly for being unprofessional and unethical. Once I realized what my wife was doing, I handed the lead surgeon position over to her beloved crush. “Well, since you're so eager to shine,” I said coldly, “you’d better not screw it up.” The nurses tried to talk me out of it. They said I was being impulsive, that this was a rare chance to prove myself. However, none of them knew that I was the only doctor in the entire country capable of performing this rare and complex heart valve surgery. Even if Cedric managed to buy time with some miracle drug and made it look like the patient was improving, without my diagnosis and surgical skills, the operation was doomed to fail. And when that happens, he’d be held responsible. As for my wife, her blind favoritism would come back to haunt her.

I suffered critical injuries that left me in a persistent vegetative state when I tried to rescue my wife, Regina Livingston, from her abductors. Regina spares no expense, spending millions of dollars to bring in the best medical experts in the country to treat me. She watches over me every single night, never weary of caring for me. Four years into my coma, I overhear a conversation between Richard Sutherland—a man I don't know—and Regina. "You've done all you can, Regina," he says. "You don't owe him anything anymore." Regina remains silent. Then, a young boy, Franklin Sutherland, suddenly asks, "Mommy, why do you always visit this man? Who is he?" I'm instantly shocked. Regina and I don't have a child together. I'm completely bewildered, and just as I try to figure it out, I suddenly wake up from my coma.