Death Symbol

Five years after I mated to Alpha Derek Blackwood, his childhood sweetheart broke her mate bond with another Alpha and returned to our pack. Even worse, I had depleted my life force saving Derek when he was mortally wounded, and now I was dying. In the less than six months I had left to live, I continued to play the role of Derek's good mate. Until I passed away. And Derek, after reading the journal I left behind, completely fell apart.

I had a miscarriage and was confined in the ICU. Meanwhile, my husband was off traveling the world with his first love. It wasn't until he decided to divorce me that he finally remembered I existed. He called my mother, demanding to know how long I planned to act out. She was disheartened, looking at me, who was barely clinging to life. "Shannon will never cause you trouble again! Happy now?" she snapped.

My fiancé, Keith Odell is a hot air balloon pilot. His first love, Michelle Lavigne, insisted on taking a risk and flying to a thousand meters above ground when the balloon’s helium began to leak.  In that moment of crisis, Keith grabbed the tandem parachute and leaped with her.  With tears in my eyes, I begged him, “I'm pregnant with your child. Can’t you take me first?” But he reproached me. “Is this really the time to fake your pregnancy because of a bit of jealousy? You learned how to skydive but Chelle is afraid of heights. We’ll wait for you on the ground.” Then he forcibly shook off my hand and parachuted down with his first love.  He failed to notice the hole in the only parachute he left me. Michelle had deliberately done it.  Carrying our unborn child, I closed my eyes and leaped.

Three days before my wedding, my younger sister staged a scene—one where I supposedly abandoned her in the mountains. She claimed I locked her in a cabin, left her to be nearly assaulted, and that she barely escaped with her life. Furious, my fiancé dragged me up the mountain and locked me in that same cabin. He said, "Wendy, a woman as vicious as you won't learn her lesson without punishment. I already told you I'd marry you. Why go after Chloe? Since you're so desperate to climb your way up, you can stay here until the wedding day." I begged him, over and over, but my scorched throat could only force out hoarse, grating sounds. Three days later, Mickey O'Brien stood at the altar in his suit, waiting for me. What he got instead was my remains.

My stepsister falsely accuses me of causing her allergies to act up. My three brothers stuff me into the cramped cellar and chain the door shut. I pound on the door and beg them to let me out. My eldest brother, an outstanding businessman, snaps, "It's bad enough that you keep bullying Lori. How could you make her eat seafood when you know she's allergic to it? Isn't that just murder? Stay in there and reflect on your mistakes!" My second brother, an award-winning singer, and my third brother, a genius painter, scoff contemptuously. "It's unbelievable that someone as evil as you is making excuses to garner pity. You can stay in there and repent for your sins!" After that, they take our shuddering stepsister to the hospital. The oxygen in the cellar soon runs out, and it gets difficult to breathe. Ultimately, I die in there. My brothers only remember me three days later when they bring our stepsister back from the hospital. Unbeknownst to them, I've already died of asphyxiation.

My mother, Winona Barlowe, who was the medical director at the hospital, decided to let my intern sister, Mia Barlowe, practice her skills by performing a brain tumor surgery on me. I begged my mother to assign another doctor since it was my only chance at survival. She slapped me across the face and cried out, "How did I ever give birth to a selfish girl like you? Mia just started her internship. Can’t you give her the chance to practice?" When I died from the botched surgery, she turned gray overnight.

An underwater volcano has been detected showing unusual activity, with the potential to erupt at any moment. Evacuations in the surrounding sea area have already begun. My husband, Ethan Gibson, boarded a lifeboat with his true love, Aria York, leaving me—his pregnant wife—behind. Not only that, he scolded me for being jealous at the worst possible time. "Aria can't swim. I have to take her first. What more do you want? I left the life jacket for you—isn't that enough?" "I'm pregnant… I'm scared…" I tried to plead. "Enough! Wendy, what's wrong with you? Why do you always have to be so dramatic?" That night, I was still nowhere to be found. Furious, he sent me a message: [Wendy! Where the hell are you? Do you have to take things this far?] [I'm telling you; I'm not coming to look for you. If you come back now, I'll act like this never happened. But if you don't, then don't bother coming back—ever!] However, Ethan… I couldn't come back anymore.

My husband, who's a negotiation expert, allows his intern to recklessly anger some criminals. It causes me, the hostage, to suffer severe injuries in the explosion, and my right leg breaks because of it. Yet, my husband once again issues a letter of forgiveness for her. "My wife, as a reporter, ignored warnings and forced contact with the criminals to get the scoop. The main responsibility lies with her. Kimberly, being a newcomer, should not bear major fault." I don't cry or make a scene. I simply pull out a divorce agreement. However, he sneers at me. "I know you're just jealous and want me to comfort you, but don't cross the line." For the past three years, I've brought up the topic of divorce 47 times, and each time, he treats it like I'm just throwing a tantrum. But it's different this time. His name has already been signed on this divorce agreement. As long as I add my signature to it, it will take effect immediately.

Because my father's childhood sweetheart's daughter was accidentally burned, my father was angry and locked me in the fire house where werewolf criminals were punished. The Beta of the pack, my father, looked at me with disgust written all over his face: "I don't have such a cruel daughter. You'll stay here and reflect on what you've done." I begged loudly for mercy, admitted my mistake, pleading for him to let me out. All I got in return was his merciless command. "Unless she's dead, no one is to release her." The fire house stood isolated at the edge of the territory. No matter how much I screamed for help, no one could hear me. He assigned the housekeeper to set the room to spray fire every 2 hours. The burns were excruciating, my werewolf healing barely keeping me alive between sessions. Ten days later, he finally remembered he had a daughter and decided to let me out. But what he didn't know was that I had already died in that fire house, never to wake again.

When I was in college, my mom had terminal cancer, and our family company collapsed due to heavy debts. Just when I was at my lowest, my childhood friend Zach Hall rushed back from overseas. For seven years, he stayed by my side and helped me heal. …Until the night before our engagement ceremony, when I was diagnosed with terminal stomach cancer. I wanted to tell Zach, but instead, I overheard a conversation between him and the lead surgeon who had operated on my mother. "Zach, your fiancee's mother could've been saved back then. But you stopped me from treating her, just so Jessica could get that poor woman's corneas. If Jessica is the one you love, why marry your fiancee?" "I do feel guilty toward Annie, but I don't regret it. It was the only way for Jess to pick up a brush again and keep chasing her dreams." Through the crack in the door, I saw clearly the tenderness on Zach's face when he mentioned Jessica. "What if Annie finds out?" the surgeon asked. Zach fell silent, rubbing the band on his ring finger. "I don't know. I've already decided to marry her. I'll love her, protect her, and spend the rest of my life making it up to her." The pain hit me so hard at that moment that I almost collapsed, as if my heart was being ripped out.