Freak Scans

My mother-in-law’s final wish was simple—she wanted one last trip to Hawaii, to bask in the warmth of the sun before her time ran out. But her son, Vincent, didn’t see it that way. He thought I was manipulating her, using her as an excuse to drag him on a vacation he didn’t want. So, out of spite, he refused to grant her dying wish. I begged him. Pleaded. Swallowed my pride and all the hurt his accusations brought. After relentless persuasion, he finally relented. I thought, at last, I could give Lucy the happiness she deserved. But on the day we were set to leave, Vincent was nowhere to be found. And that same day, Lucy suffered a heart attack. She passed away with only me by her side—never getting to feel the warmth of the sun on her skin one last time. And then I saw it. A picture. Vincent, tagged at a luxury resort with his ex. The caption from her read: Thank you for abandoning your job to take me on this trip. You’re the best. I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry. I didn’t even confront him. I just packed my bags and left. And this time? Vincent found out about the truth and begged me to stay.

Feisty drummer Lukas Trent is very used to having things his way. He’s rich and famous, absolutely a ladies’ man. The last thing on his mind is settling down. Natasha Evans is a strong and independent woman, determined to be a single mom and control her life, steering it on the path she wants. Little do they both know, the universe has other plans. When Lukas and his band buy out the record label where she works, suddenly he is her boss and has to take over her duties while she has a baby. As if that wasn’t enough to make their strong personalities clash, they’re also neighbors! What will happen when Lukas realizes this little family is just on the other side of his wall? Can he let go of his attraction to her? Can she stop being a control freak long enough to let him into her heart? Find out on book four of the Feisty series! This can be read as a stand-alone novel but it would be best if the others in the series were read first.

Just as the Silverwolf Pack was about to fall into ruin, Blaise Larkin approached me and asked me to be his mate. I'd had a crush on Blaise for as long as I could remember. Now that my wildest dreams were about to come true, I was happy to form a mate bond with him. As I was the sole daughter of the Eastern Pack's Alpha, I was able to provide him with a mountain of resources by becoming Blaise's mate. One month after our bonding ceremony, I was expecting a pup. I was ecstatic, but before I could share the news with Blaise, I overheard something soul-shattering. "I wonder who fathered the pup of our pregnant Luna." "She probably got involved with some filthy Rogue. There's no way Alpha Blaise will let her give birth to that mutt, right?" If it weren't for those werewolves, I wouldn't know that Blaise was pretending we never mated. When I demanded answers in a deranged manner, he threw me into the underground prison and forced me to atone for the death of his first love. "If you didn't insist on becoming my mate, Susie wouldn't have left the pack—she also wouldn't have gotten slaughtered by Rogues!" Eight months later, I lost my pup in the cell I was imprisoned in and died, soaking in my own blood. When I opened my eyes once again, I found myself back on the day Blaise asked me to be his mate.

My best friend Sophie and I went into labor the very same night. I watched her switch out the two infants with my own eyes, but I did not tell a single soul. For the next decade, I fed, clothed, and raised a daughter that was not mine. On the day the two girls turned eighteen, they received their college offer letters at the same time. One got into an ivy league school, and the other, a community college whose name I had not even heard of. I had never seen Sophie so happy in my entire life. Grinning from ear to ear, she whipped out the DNA report she had been saving for this very moment. "Thank you for raising my daughter to be the valedictorian that she is today. It's time she returns to her mama. As for this good-for-nothing scum… You can take her back!" I sneered. "Very well then." She had no idea what was coming.

The day before my mating ceremony, my mother caught my soon-to-be mate Derek in a passionate embrace with my step-sister Scarlett. The anger triggered my mother's heart attack need a transplant surgery immediately Fortunately, I was compatible with my mother for a heart transplant. I decided to give her my heart and use an artificial one instead. Faced with the enormous cost of the surgery, Derek, my coward of a mate, vanished. I went to beg my step-sister Scarlett, who had married an elderly but wealthy Alpha Marcus, for help. She claimed she didn't have enough cash, yet the next day she was showing off her new enchanted moonstone necklace. In my darkest hour, Alexander Stone appeared. He was the most renowned healer and Marcus’s son，the future Alpha. He covered all the costs and offered to perform the surgery himself. When I woke up, Alexander's face was filled with regret. He told me my mother had suffered a sudden rejection reaction during surgery and passed away. He pulled my tear-stained face to his chest, declaring his love and begging me to let him care for me for eternity. Seven years into our mating bond, I accidentally overheard his conversation with his beta: "So you gave Sarah's heart to Scarlett instead, right in front of her mother? That was brutal, even for you." "What could I do? Her heart matched Scarlett's perfectly." "But we had already found a suitable donor heart! Scarlett only needed to wait half a day. Why were you so impatient?" Alexander sighed, his voice heavy with emotion: "I couldn't bear to see Scarlett suffer, not even for a second."

I’d just wrapped up a short trip with my daughter, Elara. On the way back, I figured I’d swing by the Hale, our family’s casino, to check in on my son, Cassian. Maybe grab dinner together. I didn’t expect to be mistaken for his latest fling. Correction: not mistaken—accused. Violently. “You think you can just waltz in here like some queen?” she hissed. “I’m the woman Cassian loves! What kind of whore are you? And is this your bastard daughter with him?” She locked us in the basement. No phone. No light. Just concrete walls and the stench of mildew and madness. Then came the fists. She slapped me across the face—again and again—until my skin stung and my ears rang. When that didn’t satisfy her, she pulled a gun and aimed low. The bullet tore through my knee. I bit back a scream, shielding Elara with my body. “You need to die, whore,” she spat. One of her men hesitated, “We should at least tell Mr. Hale first. If we are going to kill these two in his casino.” Lila of course said no. But that man brought Cassian anyway. My son stepped into this dark little room like it was any other Tuesday—until he saw me. His whole body went still. The blood drained from his face. And then, in the smallest, most broken voice I’d ever heard from him, he whispered, “Mom? What are you doing in my basement?”

“Carys, can you relieve me?” I turned beet red as Bryan squirmed in distress, sweat soaking his face. Little did I know, there was more to the harmless-looking man I had always seen as a brother.

My son was kidnapped by rogue wolves during training. Ethan used all his connections as Beta to finally locate him in an abandoned hunting lodge. When I burst through the door, Tyler was already lying on the ground. His chest was a bloody mess, his heart ripped out completely. I chased after the rogue wolves like a mad she-wolf, desperate to retrieve his heart, but I was too late. Unable to bear the devastation, I collapsed and fell from the cliff edge. Ethan carried me to the pack healer's den, his face deathly pale. Before the healing ritual began, he gripped my hand tightly, his voice trembling: "Serena, you can't give up. Our son is already gone. I can't lose you too..." But when I regained consciousness, I found an anonymous text message on my phone. I opened it and heard a recording. "Beta Gray, you have already found another heart donors. Why specifically choose young Tyler? He's so young, and he's your son..." "He was just a tool to save Lucas. I raised him all these years—taking one heart isn't too much to ask, is it?" "Besides, the pack healer said a blood relative's heart has the smallest chance of rejection. Lucas is mine and Vivian's life. I can't bear to see him suffer even a little." My entire body shook violently. I could barely hold the phone. The man who repeatedly claimed to love me was the murderer who killed my son for his illegitimate child with his mistress. The marriage I thought was happy was nothing but an elaborate deception.

I’d been dead a month before my family even noticed. It wasn’t concern that brought them to that realization. It was my silence after the so-called “dinner” with Adam Rossi, the infamous mafia boss. My father scoffed like always,“She probably shacked up with that bastard. Too busy spreading her legs to pick up the damn phone.” My sister texted me a photo of them smiling under the Christmas tree, ornaments twinkling like nothing was wrong. Bitch, she wrote. You better talk Mr. Rossi into working with Dad, or you might as well be dead already. And my mother—once the softer one—was now colder than the frost on their windows. “I told you, we should’ve sent Gia to charm Mr. Rossi. Serena always screws things up.” They didn’t think I would die. Not until they found my body—broken, rotten, and forgotten—in Adam Rossi’s basement.

My mother-in-law is extremely frugal. She reuses paper others have discarded, carefully saving the unmarked portions. She even takes the black waste oil from the kitchen range hood and uses it to cook our meals. She says, "Frugality is a virtue—it brings blessings!" I try tirelessly to convince her otherwise, throwing out all her filthy items to protect my family's health. But while she praises me to my face, behind my back, she uses my baby's food scissors to clip her grimy toenails. My child eventually dies of a lung infection, leaving me heartbroken. My mother-in-law, however, points her finger at me, saying I'm unlucky and that I've brought misfortune to their family. Even my husband blames me. In the end, they use a knitting needle to pierce my throat and stab me to death. When I open my eyes again, I find myself back on the day I first see her picking up dirty paper. The first thing I do is hide all the high-quality tissue paper I had stocked up on before my pregnancy, pretending I knew nothing. She calls these blessings, right? Fine. The blessings of this miserly frugality—she can reap them all herself!