Cake Animal Zoo

When love is repaid with humiliation, pain turns into strength. Aruna came carrying medicine and a slice of birthday cake for the man she loved—Revan. But when she arrived at his house, what she found was not the warm smile she had longed for, but a sight that shattered her heart: Revan kneeling down, proposing to another woman in front of everyone. The medicine she had bought with her hard-earned money was thrown away. The cake she had made with love was crushed underfoot without mercy. And Aruna… was left behind without an explanation—only pain and a pride torn to pieces. On her way home, an accident took not only her strength but also the life of the unborn child she carried within her.

After the war between humans and shifters, an alliance was formed to keep the peace. The price? Daughters of the human nobility had to choose a shifter as their mate. The first half-blood born from this union would become the new ruler, ensuring that peace would last. As the eldest daughter of the Morrison family, I was the first to be chosen. But right after I chose the wolf Alpha, Calvin, I saw a vision on our engagement day. Because I failed to conceive after six months, Calvin locked me in a cage, determined to use me as a vessel for his pure bloodline. After I finally gave birth to the prophesied hybrid, my sister, Trina, appeared, claiming she wanted to take care of me. But the truth was, she hated me for being able to bear the perfect bloodline, while her own mate, that beautiful Elven Chief, was making her life a living hell. Driven by jealousy, she seduced Calvin, and together, they had me brutally murdered. After my death, the world saw Trina as the new hope, as the one destined to bear the future ruler. Only one person fought for me: Caleb, the leader of the bear clan. He was the only one who demanded justice. A sharp pain lanced through my chest, and I snapped out of the vision. Before me, Trina begged me to give Calvin to her, revealing he had already marked her. I nodded. To everyone's shock, I walked past them all, my eyes fixed on the one person no one ever seemed to notice: Caleb, sitting in the corner. "Caleb Thorne, will you accept my proposal?"

During a charity gala, my boyfriend bids on a pair of matching watches but gives one of them to his true love. The media excitedly capture the scene and ask, "You bought a million-dollar watch without even batting an eye, Mr. Loewe. You've been single all these years—is it time for you to make an official announcement on your relationship status?" Everyone off stage applauds him, and I join them. I give him my blessings for his so-called announcement. To make it up to me, he attends my birthday celebration. Yet he pushes me into the cake to make his true love happy. Unbeknownst to him, there's a steel rack in the cake to keep it steady. I end up bloodied and on the brink of death.

After my best buddy, Jack Hughes, certified my 20th girlfriend as 'another gold digger', I finally agreed to an arranged marriage to the wealthy heiress Cyndi White. My family was delighted. Later, at a gathering with friends, Jack snatched Cyndi’s half-eaten cake and said like he was her real husband, "Cyndi, this cake is too sweet. Eating too much won't be good for you. I'll eat it for you." I stopped him, but he did not just think he was in the right. He even let his guard down and said, "I was just testing your wife's character. Why all the fuss? We've been bros for over a decade. Do you think I've got my eye on your wife?" If it were in the past, I might have believed him. However, I had been reborn. I grabbed the cake from the table and slammed it into his face. "What kind of character do you have, testing other people's character like that? You're just my late driver's son! Why are you pretending to be some wealthy heir? I bet you've not only got your eye on my wife, but you've already planned how to get into her bed!"

On our third wedding anniversary, I received a cake from my husband. It had the names Clarisse Burke and Antonio Carey written on it, along with Happy Third Anniversary. But I felt like I'd been plunged into ice. That wasn't my name. Clarisse was his secretary. Sure enough, I saw my cake in Clarisse Burke's latest post, labeled Iva Grant and Antonio Carey. [Three years, and someone's already treating me like his wife.] Below, there was a comment. [Delete that post! The cakes got mixed up. Don't let Iva find out.] That was when I realized he had planned every romantic surprise in pairs. Holding my phone, I laughed at his pathetic attempt to cover it up. But I was done. I started planning my exit.

On my 16th birthday, I treat myself to the most delicious cake I can find. On that day, before I can even take a bite, my parents, who are always at odds with each other, sign their divorce papers right in front of me. So, on my wedding day, I tell my wife, Keira Jarrett, "If you ever want a divorce, just get me a birthday cake." She hugs me tightly and promises me."Don't worry. 'Birthday' won't even be a word in our home anymore." Seven years later, on Keira's birthday, her assistant, Jackson Price, throws her a surprise party. She slaps him across his handsome, gentle face and kicks him out of Jarrett Group. That day, I am convinced I have chosen the right woman for life. But three months later, on my birthday, I find out the supposedly fired Jackson has been promoted to Keira's personal secretary. He personally delivers a custom-made birthday cake to me. I call Keira to demand an explanation, but her voice on the other end is cold and distant. "Jack meant well. Don't be a spoilsport." I freeze for a moment, then hang up. It turns out my parents are right all along. The only way a birthday cake tastes right is when it's served with divorce papers.

When the zombie apocalypse hit, pets leveled up into guardians. Three per person. That was the cap. My buddy dropped serious cash on three Caucasian Shepherds. My landlord dumped his fish and started raising crocodiles. My girlfriend bolted to the zoo and came back with a lion. Me? I had three strays. Bubba—blind. Missy—lame. Snowy—barely a month old. The second the system locked pet slots, I knew I was screwed. I barricaded myself inside with my three "broken" cats and kept my head down. Day one—fear. Day two—helpless. Day three—the cats strolled back in, tails up, dragging something I didn't recognize. Bubba looked at me. "Dad, I bit off every zombie head on the block. I'm solid, right?" I just stared.

The zombie apocalypse had arrived, and pets could transform into guardians to protect their owners—each person was allowed no more than three. My best friend had spent a fortune on three Tibetan mastiffs. The landlord cleared out a fish tank to raise a crocodile. My boyfriend? He had stormed the zoo and dragged a lion home. And me? I only had three stray cats. The eldest was blind, the second one limped, and the youngest had just turned one month old. The moment the apocalypse system announced that pet slots were locked, I knew I was doomed. I tried to hide with my three disabled cats, hoping to survive quietly. Day one of the apocalypse: terrified… Day two: helpless… Day three: my cats sauntered over, tails swishing, carrying some unidentifiable object. "Mama, I bit off all the zombie heads on this street. How's that? Solid enough?" I was rendered speechless.

Our pup, Kyle Draven, is burning with a fever of 104 degrees Fahrenheit. His small body convulses as he cries out for his father. But my husband, the Alpha, doesn't care. Julian Draven ignores our son's suffering because Kyle's cries might disturb his precious Linda Griffin. "Linda's trying on evening gowns. Stop using Kyle to get my attention. You're pathetic." Linda deliberately monopolizes my husband's time, then shows up with cake for Kyle like she's some saint. When Kyle eats it, he vomits black-purple blood. The cake had Wolfsbane. I confront her, desperate for answers, but Julian responds with a vicious slap and crushes me under his Alpha authority. "Linda wouldn't hurt a fly. How could she poison anyone? You clearly framed her. What kind of mother poisons her own pup?" He shatters my spine and throws both me and our dying pup into the Borderlands. Just as he gives the order to kill us, a roar erupts from deep within the forest—the kind that makes every beast submit. My childhood friend has returned.

Here's a piece of advice—do not catch the eye of those pretty salesgirls who sell supplements. You have no idea the things they'll do to close a deal. I become a yummy slice of cake in their eyes; they all want a bite of me. I'm faced with the seduction and allure of countless beauties, but it doesn't make me happy at all.