For Those Who Can't

The scent of pine and damp earth clung to the air as the full moon created long shadows across the Ancient Clearing. Tonight, was supposed to be our marking ceremony, a sacred ritual binding Alpha Anderson and his chosen Luna before the eyes of the Frostmoon Pack. “My heart,” his gaze locked on Leah, who stood under the moonlight “has always belonged to another. My first love, the one whose spirit has been weakened by the venom of wolfsbane, is my Luna.” He drew Leah closer, his hand possessively circling her waist. Under the watchful gaze of the moon, he smiled. “Our traditions are clear,” he continued, “Only the woman who stands with me at this altar, witnessed by all, shall be my Luna. Though I had always thought that Irene was my mate which I mistakenly marked a time ago. But thanks to the goddess for making me see clearly before it was too late.” They exchanged vows beneath the trees, witnessed by the werewolves and the Moon Goddess. The silver crowns were placed, the ceremonial kiss sealed their bond. I stood hidden in the shadows of the surrounding forest. For twelve years, from the moment my wolf recognized his at eighteen until my thirtieth moon cycle, my love for Anderson had never changed. But his heart, it was clear, belonged to Leah. If that was the truth, then I would release him. He had never truly seen me, never truly cared. Yet, the act of my departure seemed to unravel him in ways I couldn’t understand.

Clara stood in the middle of the glass room with her transparent clothes, holding back her embarrassment while trying to cover her body with both hands. There were cheers from outside the glass room and naughty looks from the hungry men. "1 million," "5 million," "7 million," Everyone placed a bet on Clara at a fairly low price, tears kept going to roll down Clara's rosy cheeks. Her body was almost shaky and she couldn't meet everyone's eyes, she was like a kitten amidst a hungry lion. "50 million," A man's voice that surprised her made their eyes meet. A most dangerous mafia chief raises his betting cards and shocks everyone. Steven looked at Clara with a grin, as if he was ready to eat Clara alive. His eyes were sharp like a wolf's, and it was him.

Divorced, humiliated, and betrayed by her ex-husband and best friend after she caught her ex-husband proposing to her best friend on the day that was supposed to be their son’s death anniversary. Elodie vows to avenge the humiliation that she caused as she joins hands with her ex-husband's most hated enemy who was presumed dead before, Marcel, the rogue king. What would happen when Elodie finds out that she is pregnant for her ex-husband, Darius ? What would happen when Darius realizes that he has been living a lie and now, he wants his unwanted Luna and his triplets? How would he get them back when the Rogue King claims his children and his ex-wife as his? Would Darius get them back or would he be destroyed in the wave of Elodie’s wrath?

Samuel Jonathan was a poor orphan, who was struggling to attend college. However, falling in love with Amelia Rosenberg rendered him unable to pursue his college degree because he wanted to please her. He dropped out of school and was working to fend for Amelia’s fees and personal well-being. But one day, she dumped him for the richest guy in college, Derek Cole; after everything Samuel had done. Sam wasn’t only humiliated by his ex, he was constantly humiliated by his coworkers and his boss every day, just when he thought that the universe was against him, he discovered that he wasn’t really an orphan, and his father was the wealthiest man in Los Angeles.

To Ronan, I was nothing but a weak, wolfling girl. So he did what cold-hearted Alphas do—he rejected me. Now I’m stronger. Wilder. Dangerous. And when he returns, burning with jealousy over the Alpha I let touch me… it’s too late. Or maybe, it’s just the beginning. Because the bond between us still burns. Every time he growls my name, my body betrays me. Every time he touches me, I forget why I should hate him. He says I’m his. But I’m not that girl anymore. I might let him ruin me again just to remind him what he threw away.

Having stripped off the Luna position because of her husband's death, Ophelia is made a rogue by her late husband's half-brother after he takes over the Alpha throne. She's been struggling to make ends meet until one year later, someone shows up at the tavern where she works with the news, "Alpha Finlay isn't dead, my Luna." Mystified, Ophelia didn't know whether to be sated or frightened. She shifted into her wolf and ran to the council hall in fast gallops, only to see the man she mourned for one year because he wasn't completely hers. Finlay Dupree wasn't dead, he was the only survivor of the death trap set by the Barbarian pack members. He was interrogated by the elders because he was believed to be dead after his headless body was buried and funeral rites were performed. Ophelia reclaims her position as Luna over the Crimson Paw pack, however something doesn't seem right with the Alpha. Dislike was a mutual feeling and common between them, because Ophelia was married off to Finlay as a debt repayment owed by her father. Finlay had a mistress whom he loved. However, he's been a different person since his return. Showing interest in Ophelia and becoming more considerate than normal. Ophelia is still having doubts about him, but the redness in his eyes when he shifts into his wolf gives out that he's truly an Alpha. Truly, an Impostor wouldn't uphold such supremacy? Aside that, the man is hell-bent on making her fall in love with him. Now, is he truly Alpha Finlay who's changed after survival? Or an Impostor trying to make her believe his lie so he'd never get caught?

From a stall in the office restroom, I overhear someone badmouthing me. Henry Fielder, the intern I've been mentoring for three months, grumbles, "The guy's got zero people skills. He's a total fossil, like a robot stuck in one mode." I'm about to push the door open and jump in when someone laughs and piles on. "The paperwork is incomplete. The receipts aren't compliant. I can't reimburse it without a manager's signature. We could recite his canned empathy lines in our sleep!" Once they're gone, I quietly head back to my office. Later, Henry drops a thick stack of expense reports onto my desk. "Quit waving the rulebook and rejecting everyone's reimbursements." I skim the fake receipts, and for once, I don't call him out. Instead, I give a thin smile and say, "I have a headache. I can't make out the words."

Being a Cinderella, I was forced to marry a rich man who was crippled. But I was shocked when I met him. He made me realize that I deserved nothing but him. Now I don't care about his health situation. All I want is him by my side. That's all, I felt when I fall in love with him slowly, desperately and hopelessly. Until on the honeymoon, I finally found out, my husband who loves me dearly , met his first love who supposed to be dead. Will he leave me for her?

After dating Scott Kenta for 10 years, I said to him, "Scott, I'm pregnant." The file in his hands slipped and hit the floor. He frowned, clearly irritated. "Don't be ridiculous," he said. "This is a critical moment—my company's going public. I never planned on having a child." "It's fine. Your career matters more," I said, smiling gently. He didn't catch the meaning behind my words. I was pregnant, yes. But he wasn't the father.

In my previous life, my husband had suddenly died of a brain hemorrhage, leaving behind a massive mountain of debt. For the sake of my son, who was still in high school, I sold the house my parents had left me, gritted my teeth, and worked three jobs to pay off the debt. Overworked and exhausted, my health deteriorated, and I eventually collapsed in the hospital. From my bed, I could hear my son, now a graduate from a prestigious university, smiling as he spoke on the phone. "Hello? Dad, it's me. Yeah, she's about to die. I bought insurance for her, so we should get close to one million. You and Aunt Rena should come back home right away." The "Aunt Rena" he spoke of was none other than my husband's childhood friend and neighbor who had known him for years. It turned out that the debts were all part of a massive money-laundering scheme between my husband and his childhood sweetheart. They had fabricated false accounts to hide their crime, and he had faked his death to escape the law. My son, eager to become the heir to wealth, had stood by and watched me work myself to death. When I next opened my eyes, I was back in the moment of my husband's feigned brain hemorrhage, the day it had all begun.