Emotions Quote

My twin sister, Audrey Goodwin, was obsessed with romance novels about rich heirs. All she wanted was to marry into money and live like some perfect socialite. She set her sights on the silver-spoon scion in Jezelton, Michael Strickland, who'd been blind after a car accident. Audrey got close by becoming his private nurse. But she got tired of the work really quickly. So, she asked me to cover for her. When Michael finally got his eyesight back and held a huge celebration, Audrey decided to drug him so she could slide right into the role of Mrs. Strickland. I didn't stop her this time. I even went as far as booking her a luxury suite so she could carry out her plan. In my last life, I had begged Audrey not to go through with it. I told her romance novels weren't real life, and guys like Michael were way too powerful to mess with. She had actually listened and canceled the plan. But a little while later, the news broke: Michael secretly got married. It turned out that he'd been with someone else that very night. Just like that, Audrey's big fantasy was gone. She blamed me for ruining her "dream". My parents blamed me as well; they beat me and yelled at me, saying Audrey couldn't marry Michael now because of me. One night, Audrey snapped. She came into my room with a hammer and beat me to death. Now, I had been given another chance. I woke up right on the night of Michael's recovery party.

After being pushed down the stairs by my husband's first love, I suffered a difficult labor with our second child and died in a corner of their family's private hospital. Before I died, my six-year-old son cried and begged for his father to save me. The first time, Shawn sneered. "Your mom's gotten smarter, using you to play the victim and trick people." After that, he flung my son's hand away and left heartlessly. The second time, my son told him I was bleeding uncontrollably. Shawn was clearly impatient. "She's being so dramatic, it's just a miscarriage, nothing serious. She's always made mountains out of molehills!" After chasing my son away, he even told the doctors not to care for me. "It's my fault for spoiling her. She'll know what she did wrong once I let her have a hard time for a few days." The last time, my son went to my husband's first love Jasmine, kneeling in front of her and knocking his head on the ground, begging her. Shawn flew into a rage and ordered bodyguards to throw my battered and bruised son out of the hospital room, allowing others to laugh at his misfortune. "If you come bother Jasmine while she's resting again, I'll kick your mom out of our family! She'll never see you again!" My son crawled to my side, leaving behind a long trail of blood. And so, I laid there helplessly as I felt the warmth escape both my son and I. 'Are you happy now, Shawn? You'll never see us again.'

I was Rebecca, mate to Gavin Clarke, Alpha of the Ironpelt Pack—the strongest among the northern werewolf packs. Gavin was a once-in-a-century business genius, his trade networks expanding across a dozen northern packs, making his pack a successful business empire. He'd claimed me for four years. We stood together, awaiting our bonding ceremony... until his childhood sweetheart Vivian returned. The moment I saw them reunite, the truth shattered me: What I'd believed was love had only ever been my own delusion. His eyes held only her. I'd just been... convenient. At least he'd never marked me. No mate bond, just cold paperwork from the Pack Council. That made things simpler. So I crafted my revenge—disguised the Mate Bond Dissolution Agreement as a routine university permission slip. When his pen touched that paper, our bond dissolved in the stroke of an inkwell. He never realized what he'd truly lost that day: Not just a mate. But the future heir to the Ironpelt legacy. Now he hunts me across continents. Is it love? Or the pup? Or just an alpha's pride, burning because I made him dissolve the mate bond without even realizing he'd been outplayed?

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.

The day my brother, Chester Rodney, came to the orphanage to take me home, my boyfriend Dominic Huxley looked at me coldly and said, "If you choose to acknowledge your birth family, we're over." I knew he had his pride—he could never accept the difference in our social standing. So, for him, I turned my back on the family I had yearned for my whole life. In the decades that followed, I toiled without complaint, saving every cent to help him rise to success. By the time I was not yet fifty, overwork had worn me down. Lying on my deathbed, my breathing shallow and weak, I watched Dominic on television. He was now an acclaimed scientist, just awarded the nation's highest research honor. Tears welled in his eyes as he thanked another woman. "All these years," he said, "I never felt worthy of Alicia. But now, maybe I can use this award as the prologue to a love I've owed her for decades." The "Alicia" he spoke of was the woman mistakenly switched with me at birth—the false heiress the Rodney family raised as their own. The camera zoomed out. Alicia Rodney stood radiant, graceful, and perfectly preserved by years of luxury, blushing as she accepted the trophy. "I waited for you for decades," she said sweetly, "but marriage is still something I'll need to ask my brother about." Chester, who had long taken over the family, looked at her with an indulgent tenderness tinged with something unspoken. "I was adopted by our uncle back then for one reason—to protect Alicia. Making the only princess of the Rodney family happy has always been my life's mission." Only then did I realize—everything I thought I had chosen freely, every sacrifice I made without regret, was nothing but a trap, carefully woven by two men, all for Alicia. The betrayal pierced my heart. I died without peace. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day Chester came to take me home from the orphanage. I glanced past the two men eyeing me with subtle disdain. Without hesitation, I stepped into the car. "Take me home," I said. This time, I'd send whoever stole my life back to the gutter they slithered from.

When Peter, my father-in-law, suffered a heart attack and needed an urgent transplant, the hospital miraculously had a compatible heart. Helen, my mother-in-law and I were overjoyed. We thought it was a blessing from above. However, just as we were getting ready for surgery, Nate, my husband, disappeared with the compatible heart. When we finally reached him by phone, it was Camile, his first love. “Nate is busy prepping for my dad’s heart surgery. Stop distracting him!” Helen was trembling with fury. On her way to confront Nate, she got into a car accident and ended up in a critical condition. I begged Nate to come back and operate on her, but he walked into another operating room. In the end, my in-laws died. Their bodies were donated for organ transplant. It was not until later that I found out that their organs had been donated to Camile’s family.

I was the heir to a wealthy family, yet my biological parents were drowning in debt and living on the streets. Out of pity for them, I decided to give up my status as a young heir and care for my family. To help them live better lives, I worked three jobs, working myself to the bone. But one day, I discovered the truth. Their so-called "bankruptcy" was a lie. They had been living a life of luxury all along. To make matters worse, my fiancée had already gotten involved with my younger brother. I was heartbroken and devastated. I decided to return to my foster father and seek his help. To get revenge for me, he ruined my biological parents' business, bringing them down for good.

Even before marrying Wayne Cooper, I knew he had a fierce sister-in-law. He would always tell me to never get into a fight with her. After we marry, we spend Christmas Eve at his parents' house for the first time. I'm forced to bustle around in the kitchen as I prepare a feast for over a dozen people. Meanwhile, Wayne's family lounges in the living room. They chatter away while enjoying the fruits I've washed and sliced. As I place the last dish on the table, Wayne's brother and sister-in-law, Kyle Cooper and Lucy Wren, arrive. When I want to take my seat, I discover there isn't one for me. That's when Lucy snorts and says sarcastically, "I heard you're a good wife who's obedient and easygoing, Melanie. I have to say that your cooking is… mediocre, though." This infuriates me. I'm about to retort when she turns to my mother-in-law. She says, "I think you should do the cooking from now on, Gloria. Your food is delicious…"

Three years ago, during our marking ceremony, my fated mate suddenly proposed to my stepsister, Ashley Calisto. When I was publicly humiliated, Owen Wagner, Alpha of the pack and president of the Wolf Alliance, started to pursue me obsessively. A few months later, I became his Luna. He has treated me with great care and tenderness for the past three years. That is, until I get pregnant and accidentally overhear his secret conversation with a witch. "I need a potion that will kill the pup in her womb without her noticing," Owen says. The witch asks in confusion, "Alpha Owen, why don't you want this heir?" Owen replies coldly, "The only one worthy of bearing my pup is Ashley. This entire thing had been orchestrated to protect Ashley anyway." So, all this tenderness has just been part of a carefully crafted lie. If that's the case, I'll let them have each other.

I used to be treated like a princess in Lumenclaw Pack. But the first day after my eighteenth birthday, my Alpha dad brought home a charity case—Callie from the welfare center. Everything flipped. Ryell, my own brother, ditched me for her. Jovan, my future mate? Shielded her. Even Dad called her sweet, kind—"a thousand times better than you." Graduation Day. Strike 101. They picked her. Again. "Aren't I your real family?" Dad hesitated—but only to hide Callie behind him like some precious thing. Her fake tears. His real slap. "Such a petty wolf. I wish I'd never had you." Ryell sneered, "Having a sister like you makes me sick. Get out!" I didn't scream. Didn't cry. Just packed and walked. They thought I'd break like always—cry, forgive, crawl back. But not this time. I called my mom. Took her offer. Moved to her distant pack. If they wanted me gone, wish granted. So why the hell did they come begging when they realized I meant it?