Even In Darkness, She Chose To Rise

I am the only daughter of the Alpha King. When I was eight, I rescued a starving rogue pup named Alex from the border. I begged my father to take him in, and we grew up together. At eighteen, I discovered he was my fated mate. My father happily gave me to him in marriage, carved out a stretch of territory, and made him an Alpha. Everyone said we were a perfect match. Until a year ago — while I was pregnant — the boy who had always protected me and adored me fell in love with a Healer named Vivian. He told me that he'd always seen me as a little sister. He got on his knees and begged me to let him go. He was willing to give up the entire territory and his Alpha title. My hands trembled as I signed the Mate Bond dissolution agreement. But before it could take effect, that healer slipped wolfsbane into my medicine. I miscarried. When I finally opened my eyes, Alex rushed to my side with bloodshot eyes, held me tight like he was terrified of losing me, and apologized over and over. He said he was wrong. He swore he would devote himself to me completely. I was consumed by hatred. I ordered Vivian's execution. But Alex grabbed my hand and stopped me. He told me he'd already banished her permanently. For the next year, Alex was perfectly devoted — attentive to my every need. Then, seven months into my second pregnancy, I stumbled upon the woman who should have been long banished — Vivian, quietly settled at the edge of the territory. And Alex, leaning down to kiss her tenderly. If he loves Vivian that much, then I'll take back everything I ever gave him — and let him have his "true love." But if that's what he wanted... then why is he on his knees again, begging me to come back?

Gina and I were just ordinary werewolves in the Silver Claw Pack. Our incomes were modest, but we married well. Her mate was the captain of the Silver Claw Pack patrol unit. Mine, the fire squad leader. They grew up together—childhood friends—and were the youngest golden duo in the Werewolf Alliance. On the day we married, our mates each bought us a luxury high-rise apartment on the top floor of the central castle, side by side, with the promise of sharing life and death together. That is, until that fateful night. Rogues broke into the central zone. Chaos reached even the upper levels of our building. The tower caught fire. Amidst the thick smoke, I sent a desperate mind-link to my mate. He blocked it. Turns out, both our mates were busy shielding their shared first love, Lifu. They ignored our calls for help. Gina dragged me as we ran. She was six months pregnant; her pup was already kicking from the panic. Her mate never showed up either. We made it to the stairwell, where we were trapped for five hours. Toxic fumes filled our lungs. I went into labor too early. My pup didn't make it. Gina bled for three days in the hospital. Her pup was gone too. Meanwhile, our mates were digging through the wreckage—twenty-four hours straight—searching for Lifu's lost dog. That was it. Right then and there, Gina and I looked at each other and knew. We were done.

A Feral Curse swept through the werewolf world. Those wolves touched by it become monsters that devour their own packmates; others die in agony as the infection burns through them. The survivors formed an Alliance to fight back. I fought alongside my mate, Alpha Liam, until the very end. Until rescue finally came. But our transport was seconds from takeoff. That’s when Liam's first love, an omega named Chloe, ran back. All for a beat-up music box. Liam insisted we wait. The feral pack was closing in. I had no choice. I forced the ramp shut. Chloe was torn apart by ferals. Back at the Alliance base, I thought we were safe. I was wrong. That night, Liam knocked me out and threw me to a captured feral wolf. The infection was pure agony. It felt like my veins were erupting from the inside out. I died alone in a cold, empty cell. His last words echoed in my mind through our link: "You let Chloe die. It's your turn to feel what she felt." Then I opened my eyes. I was back. Back on the airfield. On the day he refused to leave. I saw the feral pack in the distance, and a cold smile touched my lips. He wants to save Chloe so badly? Fine. This time, they can die together.

Three months into the silent treatment from my Alpha mate, Samson Holt, he holds a grand ceremony befitting of a Luna for the return of his beloved Leia Harton. Because of this, I—the real Luna—am now the laughing stock of the entire pack. "Sharon's just an orphan wolf with no real lineage. How could someone like her be our Luna?" "Exactly! Leia's the one who truly deserves to stand beside the Alpha." Ignoring them, I take up a silver blade and slash it hard across my throat. They never knew that I wasn't truly one of them. I wasn't a wolf at all, but a human from another world. And the Moon Goddess just told me that if I die in this world, I can finally go home and reunite with my family.

The afternoon my critical condition notice was issued, Silas Stenson popped a bottle of champagne in the lab. On social media, a photo showed him and Wynter Keller standing side by side in the golden sunset, their white coats bathed in light. The caption read only one line—'Ten years—it finally worked.' Everyone said he was devoted, that he'd spent ten sleepless years trying to save me. When the nurse, her eyes red, showed it to me on her phone, I was staring at the wavering lines on the monitor. No one knew that the drug had already been perfected a year ago. And I was the only candidate who wasn't allowed to receive it.

I've waited five years for my mafia fiance, Daniele Moretti, while he keeps pushing our wedding back again and again. I've turned down every man who approaches me and put up with all the snide comments from high society. On the eve of exchanging our marriage alliance contract, thanks to a bet with his lover, Daniele decides it's hilarious to switch the groom's name. He replaces himself with his uncle, Samuele Moretti, a man who is practically on his deathbed. Daniele laughs as he brags to his friends, "Regina's obsessed with me. When she finds out, she'll cry and beg me to change it back." I stand just outside the door and hear every word. On the day of the wedding, I take Samuele's arm—the "sickly wreck" Daniele keeps mocking—and walk him up the aisle. When Daniele finally shows up late with his lover and tries to turn the ceremony into a spectacle, I slap him across the face. Now he's the one who has to call me Aunt Regina.

They were already married for three years when Alpha Damian Zeus’s long-lost first love, Lily, returned bringing along a five-year-old pup. Luna Ariana Volkstane slid the formal rejection request across the table. "Let's end this bond. It's better for you, me, and your first love." He just smirked. "You want me to reject you? You think you can break our bond that easily?" So she did. Ariana cut ties with him completely, poured herself into her career, and rose to global fame as a legendary healer, her knowledge of rare herbs, wolf anatomy, and ancient magic sought after across continents. The powerful suitors lined up. The Alpha of an overseas empire whispered, "Ariana, hurry up and perform the severing ritual. I can't wait to claim you." A powerful pack leader vowed, "I'll be there with you the day you break the bond." A legendary wolf attorney promised, "I'll handle your rejection case with the pack council myself." Ariana just rubbed her temples. It's not that she didn't want the split, she wanted it more than anything, it's just that the Alpha she was mated to refused to let go. Finally, she announced, "Whoever can officially get me rejected, I'll put you at the head table of my bond-breaking celebration." Not long after, Alpha Damian was served the official rejection request right in the middle of an emergency pack council meeting. That same afternoon, he was attacked by rogues at the gates of his own territory. When Ariana showed up at the pack infirmary with healing herbs, she repeated calmly, "Let's sever the mate bond. It's better for you, me, and everyone else." But the cold, untouchable Alpha pulled her into his arms, his eyes blood-red with fury. "You want me to reject you? Over my dead body."

My marriage to Dante Moretti shocked everyone. I’ve got a fiery temper and I don’t back down. Three years into our marriage, the entire Chicago underworld knew we were at each other's throats. Except in bed. There, our bodies just fit. The only time we weren't at war was when we were tangled in the sheets, lost in a storm of desperate kisses and raw pleasure. Countless times, he’d tell me he was obsessed with my body, always right as he was sinking into me. I thought it was his way of saying he was falling for me. That all came crashing down at an auction, when he snatched my mother's heirloom from me, only to give it to her—a fragile-looking girl named Ava. That’s when he showed me a cruelty I’d never seen. "It's time for a reality check, Elara," he’d said, his voice cold as ice. "Marrying you, fucking you… it was all just to keep the peace between our families. Ava is the one I want to protect." But the day I finally left Chicago, the day I announced our divorce to the world… That cold, calculating Mafia Don hunted for me like a man possessed.

On the day, my husband, Eugene Doyle, receives the offer to further his studies in the city, he serves me divorce papers instead. I, Maria Johnston, am eight months pregnant with his child. He tries to console me. "Maria, ever since my elder brother, Edgar, passed away, Janice has had nobody taking care of her. She can't survive on her own. "I'll marry her for the time being, just on paper, until she manages to find her footing in the city. After that, I'll come back and marry you again." Everyone assumes that I will patiently and obediently wait for Eugene to return because of my pregnancy. However, I tear up his written oath to me and terminate the pregnancy that same day. Then, with the offer letter for the National Archeology Certification in my hands, I leave our little village and disappear from Eugene's life. Five years later, I become a successful archeologist and return to the same village for a survey. My current husband, Rupert Kingston, can't come at the same time as me due to an emergency meeting, but he has informed the villagers to welcome me with open arms ahead of time. To my surprise, I meet my ex-husband instead. He says, "I know that you lost your baby at eight months. There's no need to be ashamed about it. It's about time you came back after running away from home all those years ago. "Janice is about to give birth. We need you to be her nanny."

I plan on ordering some food using my husband's phone, yet I've noticed a remark that's been saved on the delivery app. "The food is for a pregnant lady. Please make sure to be hygienic and use less oil and salt when making the dishes." I can feel my heart sink. I turn my gaze toward the bathroom, where my husband is. I can't figure out why my husband, who's been firm about not wanting a child, has been ordering meals for pregnant women. After a moment of hesitation, I scroll through the delivery app's order history with shaky hands. Numerous orders have been placed with the same restaurant, one that specializes in making exquisite dishes designed for pregnant women. Each of these food orders costs more than ten thousand dollars. My husband's company address has been chosen as the delivery address, and he's also the recipient. … After exiting the delivery app, I sit on the couch and stare into space. As I look at my husband's well-defined muscles, I recall how he, who's about to hit 40, is suddenly quite invested in getting in shape over the past year. I blurt out asking, "Have you been ordering food to your office often lately?" My husband freezes for a split second. Then, he fixes me with a gentle gaze. "I do that once in a while. Why are you suddenly asking about that? By the way, I haven't had the sweet and sour meatballs you make in a long while. Can you make some for me so that I can bring them to the office for my lunch tomorrow?" I smile at him and agree to his request. Still, I toss and turn in bed as the remark about the pregnant lady in his phone keeps gnawing at me that night.