Devotion

I met my mate, Alpha Draven, at the bonding ceremony of our classmate Raven—seven years after I rejected him. But everything had changed. He was still handsome and prestigious, with his beautiful mate clinging to his side. And me? I stood there in an old-fashioned uniform, black-rimmed glasses perched on my nose— a relic from another world. Yes. We were from two completely different worlds now. In the middle of the ceremony, I overheard some werewolves whispering and laughing. "Draven, have you finally moved on from her rejection? It's been seven years, after all." His smile faded. "Honestly, I didn't even recognize her at first glance today." Their words struck me like claws to the heart. I couldn't breathe. So I left—quietly, halfway through the ceremony—before the pain could completely devour me.

I'm the female protagonist of a spicy novel. One day, the system tosses me into an innocuous novel to be reformed. What a joke! I turn to the male protagonist. "Hi there. Want to make out?" He has me thrown behind bars and accuses me of molesting him. Much later, he does even naughtier things than the male protagonists in spicy novels do.

After claiming another pack, Kyler Vaughn of the Frostfang Pack was now the most powerful Alpha in the western region. But in all that glory, he seemed to have forgotten someone. Me, his destined mate, Elsa Thorne. Seven years ago, I took a poisoned strike meant for him. Because of that, I never awakened my wolf and was left a weak Omega. A year ago, he promised that once he became the strongest Alpha in the west, we would hold our bonding ceremony. Now that he had achieved it, my heart leapt as I ran to his study, full of hope. The door was slightly open, and I heard his voice. "We'll move forward with the plan tomorrow. Split into two teams, one for the Ember Pack and the other for the Shadow Pack." Another voice hesitated. "But Ms. Thorne..." "Why mention that useless Omega? She'll only slow us down. Enough of her." I froze outside the door, my excitement twisting into a bitter ache. I remembered the times he went on missions, while I could only wait in our territory for his return. So, this was how he actually saw me. A stubborn fire rose in me. I would go to the new territories and prove I wasn't useless. The next day, I disguised myself as a Warrior and stood at the rally point. When asked which team I wanted, the names Shadow Pack and Ember Pack spun in my mind. His disdainful gaze leaving me flustered, I blurted out, "The Ember Pack! I want to go to the Ember Pack!" I didn't know that my rushed choice would throw me headfirst into an unknown whirlpool...

While exploring the wilderness, my younger sister—Charlotte Forrester—and I accidentally stumble onto the territory of supernatural beings. She grabs the hand of the noble, elegant male elf, her posture coy and intimate. Before I can react, a wolfman with a scar on his face wraps his arm around my waist and leads me away. Charlotte, who judges others by appearance, is unaware that the male elf—Elwin Duskwood—belongs to a tribe of half-elves. Half-elves are beautiful but possess no real capabilities. They are considered a marginalized group among elves and struggle to make ends meet every day. On the other hand, the wolfman—Morgan Nightshade—is a mid-tier wolf tribe's Highlord. After giving birth to an extremely rare silver wolf for him, I have become the Highlady of the tribe. I'm respected by everyone in the tribe and feast on delicacies every day. Meanwhile, Charlotte becomes emaciated after suffering from starvation for several months. When she sees how plump I am, she goes insane from jealousy. While the wolf tribe is entertaining guests at a banquet, she uses poison to kill me. The next time I open my eyes, Charlotte and I are back at the moment we first entered the supernatural beings' territory by mistake. Charlotte immediately hugs Morgan by the waist and kisses him. She showers him with flattery about his strength, calling him the man of her dreams. I can't help but laugh out loud. Silly Charlotte. As a wolfman, Morgan is ill-tempered, and he easily loses control of his emotions. He also becomes even more bloodthirsty after transforming. It's not all sunshine and rainbows being his mate. But I never imagined the elves could be so… in that regard.

Shannon Gray loved Sean Ford wholeheartedly, regardless of her loneliness or feelings of lack of accomplishment.She once believed that he would be her forever until the end. However, things happened the other way around. Finally, she woke up when he pushed her to the edge of the cliff for another woman, only then did she know that she was just a passerby in his life and he would never be hers…Sean, you will regret this one day. In fact, no one can escape from feeling helpless. Perhaps, I will be gone when you decide to come back...

My dad called me right after I got paid. He said my little brother needed money for school, Grandma had medical bills, and there was still the rent, water, and electricity. Then, at the end of the call, he admitted he’d lost money gambling. I sat in the security booth, rubbing my bad leg, completely lost for what to do. A car horn blared, and I quickly raised the security bar. Just one look and you could tell how expensive the car was. It belonged to the boss, who had a thing for amputees. Damn it.

I'm a killer who accidentally sleeps with a mafia boss twice. The first time, I walk away without saying anything, leaving behind nothing but a note and a bank card. "Fantastic night. Thanks." The second time, he lands himself at the top of the killer hit list and has a sky-high bounty placed on him. Later, he traps me in his room as I fade in and out of consciousness, drowning in his presence. He holds my hand and aims my gun at himself with a chuckle. "You're shaking so badly. Can you even keep your gun steady?"

That winter, the Silver Moon Pack holds its annual ski hunt. An avalanche strikes without warning, and the three of us are trapped in a lift pod. There's only one thermal suit left. My mate, Ryan Mercer, gives the thermal suit to me. I survive, but his childhood sweetheart, Eve Hurst, is buried forever beneath the endless white of the mountain. No body is ever found. However, he gazes at me with devotion and says, "Celine Bartlett, you are the love of my life." I soak in those words, believing them. But I have no idea this is the beginning of my nightmare. For the next five years, he speaks to me only with cruelty. "You killed Eve. You're a murderer!" He locks me in the basement and whips me with lashes soaked in wolfsbane. Then, he pretends to show pity and feeds me with a silver fork. When I refuse, he stabs me with silver nails across my legs, carving deep red lines into my skin. "This is what you owe her, and you will repay it!" When I ask for a reject, he stabs a silver dagger into my chest, dragging me into death with him. When I open my eyes, I find myself back on the day of the avalanche. This time, I hand the survival gear to Eve without hesitation. This time, I owe her nothing. And now, I want to see whether they will get their happy ending without me around.

My husband is known as a ruthless CEO, but somehow, he is tender and warm with me. I'm passionate about art restoration, especially antique paintings, so he transforms his private collection room into a professional-grade studio just for me. He even brings in top experts to mentor me. Once, I spent three sleepless nights restoring a rare 12th-century painting. He ends up buying the entire museum that the painting belongs to, just so I can study it without restrictions. To marry me, he goes head-to-head with his powerful family, even stages a hunger strike, until they finally give in. At our engagement party, he gets down on one knee in front of everyone and says, "Ash, you deserve nothing but the best in this world." The ring he designs himself has an engraving on the inside that says, "Art brought us together, love holds us forever." Everyone says Vincent Hawthorn loves me like a maniac, and I believe it—until I restore one of his late mother's paintings…

At a concert, I went wild, shouting at the top idol on stage, “Tony Townsend, spray on my face!” That night, my brother had me pinned against the ancestral altar, a ruler pressing down on the back of my neck. “Lift your head. Tell me, what did you want that idol to do to you?” Later, he shoved me down onto the mattress, his fingertips grinding against my swollen lips. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”