Cheol-joong Uncanny Counter

Right after Ethan and I announced our mating ceremony, his childhood sweetheart from the pack, Sophia, came rushing back. And she flat-out demanded I go through a "bloodline trial." "Someone like you, a wolf outcast, you're definitely up to no good. You have to pass this month-long bloodline trial before our pack will accept your mating!" With Ethan basically giving them the nod, Sophia and her pack betas put me through hell. They deliberately messed with my moonlight alchemy circle, almost tore my mind apart. The backlash from the moon energy tortured me until I almost broke. My body felt like it was being ripped to shreds. They contaminated my sacred water potions. The choking fumes nearly suffocated me. The betas were cruel and vicious. "She's just a lone wolf anyway. If she dies, no pack will back her up." Then, Sophia stole the Moon Goddess sacred artifact my grandma left me—the Moon Alchemy Cauldron. She taunted me, all cocky. "If you've got the guts, try summoning the Moon Goddess's power on the blood moon night to take it back! Otherwise, I'll use your family's crappy old cauldron as a chamber pot!" I’ve had enough. I’m so sick of these ‘trials,’ and there’s no way in hell I’m mating with Ethan.

My childhood sweetheart tanked his startup and racked up millions in debt. He begged for my help, so I dropped out of college and sold liquor to keep him afloat. Ten years later, he proposed to me. I thought we'd made it through the worst until I saw his chatting records with his buddies. [Lorelei is pushing 30. Too old and too used up for you.] [Who knows if she earned that debt money by slinging drinks or something else?] [Besides, what about your kid with your secretary?]

I was a plus-size girl, weighing about 220 pounds. On graduation day, I finally gathered the courage to confess my feelings to Calvin Preston, the heartthrob I had been crushing on for three years. Surprisingly, he said yes! To celebrate, we went out that night. But things took a dark turn. I was tricked into drinking too much and was drugged. Calvin and his buddies violated me and, to make matters worse, they filmed it all. The next thing I knew, the video had gone viral online with a cruel caption, “Who’s brave enough to try a 220-pound girl?” As the humiliating video spread like wildfire, the shock and shame were too much for my grandfather to bear. It broke his heart, quite literally.

My husband died unexpectedly, and my mother-in-law adopted a newborn boy. She said she wanted to keep this child by her side as a reminder of my husband. Therefore, I raised him as my own child. Later, when he grew up, I gave him the company with peace of mind. The first thing my son did after taking power was to have someone lock me up in the basement and torture me. He said, "If it weren't for you, I wouldn’t have been separated from my parents all these years." At the moment of my death, my husband, who had supposedly passed away for many years, appeared with his first love in his arms. "Sophia, how does it feel to be cheated for more than ten years? Fortunately, you raised a son for me so that we can live happily without you." Angered to death, I could only watch the three of them. When I opened my eyes again, I returned to the day when my husband died unexpectedly.

At sixty-five, I got served divorce papers. The same day, my husband Sebastian — decked out in his wedding suit, of all things — popped a handful of sleeping pills in a suicide attempt. For years, we were the perfect couple. The kind of pair neighbors whispered about with envy. I couldn't wrap my head around it. The divorce. The pills. None of it made sense. Not until I found the photo and letter in his pocket.

After being in love with Dylan for seven years, I planned to propose to him at his birthday party. But then I overheard him speaking to his friend in Italian: "You like Lydia? I'll give her to you. I'm tired of her anyway. Sarah is better—she's a dancer, young and sexy." He thought I couldn’t understand, but he didn’t know that I had learned Italian for him. I threw away the ring I had designed for him, tore apart the wedding suit I had sewn and left. Our friends were all speculating how long it would take before I came back. Dylan sneered with disdain, "She’s just an orphan with no family. Where could she go without me? Three days at most." But to his surprise, I never returned and found a new home.

At the full moon gathering, I learned that my mate Carrick was forced to bond with the Omega daughter of our rival pack. He rushed to complete a mating ritual with her regardless of the consequences. They fled to the Northern Territories that very night. Their childhood bond story went viral among the packs, but I became the shameful third wheel who interfered with their "true pairing" and was shunned so severely that I couldn't even leave my den. Unexpectedly, Alex, the blind Alpha of the Silver Crest Pack—Carrick's sworn enemy—appeared at my door. "I've always been a vengeful wolf. Carrick stole my intended mate through deception, so I will claim his rightful Luna." His unseeing eyes somehow found mine with uncanny precision. "Alliances require balance, Jenna. Are you willing to complete the mating bond with me?" I looked at the image of their moonlight ceremony being shared through pack links, and without hesitation, I handed him my wrist, exposing my scent gland for the claiming bite.

'What's that from?' Daniel says, lifting my sleeve a little more to reveal the obvious bruise. Shit I forgot about that one, 'I bumped into my counter last night. You know me, I'm clumsy'. Daniel looks at me knowingly. I have to get to class, but I'll meet you at lunch. My treat.' I say, run off to class. That was a close one. She was compelled to work from a young age in order to support her parents' vices and her own education. She was the neglected child of alcoholic parents. Daily bruising was a reality. She went through a lot of suffering before she found the man who would save her.

In the third year of my engagement to Jack, he found himself a pureblooded, sharp-fanged huntress up in the Northern Territory. The night before my birthday, he brought her to me—just to call off the bond. He looked at me, cold and distant. “Bethel and I both live for the thrill of the night hunt. You're just a greenhouse wolf—soft and sheltered. You’ll never get what makes it all so addictive.” I asked, holding back the hurt, “Did it really have to be today?” He chuckled, “Did breaking a bond require a date on the calendar?” I nodded without arguing. But the next month, we ended up in the same Blood Moon Trial up north. What he didn’t know was—I tasted the rush of the hunt, the heat of blood, and got the champion long before he even came of age. Later, on his birthday, I sealed a life bond with another powerful wolf. He looked at me, red-eyed and hoarse, voice barely his, “Did it have to be today?” I smiled back, “Life bonds need good omens. The moon’s just right tonight.”

After encountering problems at work, I lose myself in a virtual reality game. I randomly meet a male player in there and depend on my amorous interactions with him to escape reaity. We flirt with each other and have roleplay; he grunts and groans over the microphone. Everything changes when I accidentally reveal my true identity. The young man next door pins me underneath him and roams his hands over my body. When he speaks, his voice is hoarse. "You were great at flirting in the game, weren't you? Why can't you make those noises now?"