Goodbye Bittersweet

Without my knowledge, Aileen—the daughter of Carlson Green’s first love—secretly lured my five-year-old daughter, Lena, deep into the Wolfsbane Forest. She told Lena there was treasure hidden in the forest. When a distress signal came from the forest, I rushed there with Carlson and the rescue team. The wolfsbane's poison spread silently, making it harder for Lena to breathe. She lay weak in the grass, her face pale, her heartbeat slowing down. Aileen, meanwhile, was sprawled on the path beside the wolfsbane. She only had a few scratches on her knees, but she was crying loudly. "Help me! It hurts so much!" I thought Carlson, the Alpha of the Moonshadow Pack and Lena’s father, would run into the forest to check on his own daughter. But he didn’t. Instead, he bent down, scooped Aileen into his arms, comforting her with care. His eyes were full of worry. "It’s okay now, Daddy’s here." I ran forward, my voice shaking. "Carlson! Lena is still in the wolfsbane grass! I can feel her breathing fading! Come with me to find her!" He only said calmly, "Lena is wearing my Moonstone Crystal. It protects her from wolfsbane. She will be fine. Aileen needs care and treatment more." The rescue vehicle left, taking Aileen and Carlson with it. I ran into the wolfsbane field and found Lena. She weakly tugged my hand. "Mom, don’t cry. It doesn’t hurt at all." "Daddy will come save me after he saves Aileen." Then she closed her eyes. And never breathed again. Even on the day of her funeral, Lena never got to see her father come to save her. Carlson Green, a life for a life. You, Aileen, and her mother will pay back everything you did to Lena—I’ll make you repay it a thousand times over.

Three days after giving birth, my husband leaves me alone at home to care for the baby, saying that he needs to leave on an urgent business trip. Three days later, I've just arrived at the hospital when I see a family photo his childhood sweetheart has shared on her social media. It's captioned, "This was taken during a trip. We're a happy family of three." I'm surprised to see my husband grinning in the photo and comment on it with a question mark. He immediately calls me to reprimand me. "Do you know how hard it is for her as a single mother? She doesn't have a man to care for her. All I did was take a photo with her. Do you have to be so petty?" That evening, his childhood sweetheart shares a photo of some monetary gifts. "He insisted on giving me this after taking the family photo." I know my husband gave that to her to pacify her. This time, however, I'm ready to leave him.

While cleaning Desmond Maynard's house, I accidentally knocked over his mother's keepsake. He once told me it was his most precious possession. But when I picked it up, hundreds of love letters spilled out. There were beautiful poems, passionate lyrics, and heartfelt confessions. He had written one letter a week without stopping. On the back of each one wrote a line: To My Love, Bunny. The nickname rang a bell. It was his junior in college. Things started to make sense. I slaved away for 13 years, running his household and caring for his family, but Desmond never even said he liked me. That was because he already had someone he liked. I sorted the letters by date, put them back, and grabbed my phone to make a call. "Mom, I'm in for the marriage proposal."

My boyfriend did not like my big chest. He gave me five hundred thousand dollars to go for a breast reduction surgery. At the same time, a mystery man suddenly transferred me five million dollars with a note telling me not to listen to my boyfriend. I gripped my phone tightly and secretly replied to my boyfriend’s best friend’s text message. [If you want me to listen to you, money is not enough.] He immediately texted back. [What are you saying? I don’t understand.] I replied. [Forget about it. I’m heading to the hospital now.] As expected, he got anxious. [What else do you want?] [Do you have 7 inches?] [I have 10 inches.] [I won’t believe you until I see it for myself.] After that, he proved it to me through his actions.

Just a few days before my wedding, I accidentally come across a post while scrolling online. The title reads, "To the guy getting married in this city, your fiancée's already cheated on you." Curious, I click in to see the gossip, only to realize I'm the one being talked about. A deep male voice plays in the video. "I heard you're getting married?" The woman in the frame, bare-backed and trembling, chokes back a sob. "After you left, I realized you're still the one I love most. I'm done with him. Take me away, please!" The moment I hear her voice, it feels like someone punches me straight in the chest. Then I notice something on her wrist—the luxury couple's bracelet I gave her just yesterday. And in that instant, I feel like the biggest joke of all. Turns out the fool was me.

"My incubus has been with me for a month, but he still won't let me touch him. What could be the reason for that?" I type my questions into the customer service feedback form and wait for a reply. The customer service representative replies at once in a very helpful manner. "Dear customer, our incubi are all very eager to stick to their owners like glue! I'm afraid your issue might be due to a malfunction on his end. "We can apply for your incubus to be replaced with a new one instead, and he will arrive in a week." I look at Riven Sterling, the incubus whom I had made tailored specifically to my tastes. After a moment of thought, I decide that maybe I can just wait and observe for a while longer. If he still doesn't change for the better, then I can perhaps send him in for repairs. After all, Riven is just too perfectly aligned with my tastes. I can't bear to give him up. However, at the family dinner, I quickly realize that Riven is having a reaction toward my younger stepsister, Teresa Ashford, who is sitting across from me. It's only then that I recall that Teresa is the one who opened my parcel the last time Riven arrived at the doorstep. That night, I contact the customer service representative again and say, "You said that the new replacement would be arriving in a week, right? Please send it out, then. Thank you."

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 am the white wolf princess of the Coyote Pack. By the Moon Goddess’s decree, Barry was meant to be my fated mate. But during the peace negotiations, he gave me away—to Bayport’s crippled warrior, Colin—as a “hostage bride.” Barry smiled carelessly, his voice cruelly tender. “Emily, let me complete the bond with Evelyn first. This is just a deal. You are still my true Luna.” My nails bit into my palms, pain hollowing out my chest. Evelyn was nothing but a low-blood she-wolf he had rescued from the border. Yet for her, he used a truce marriage alliance to force me into surrender. Later, when I sought him out, I found him tending Evelyn’s wounds, wrapping her with gentle hands. He looked up, his tone light as if it cost him nothing. “If you let Evelyn be my mate alongside you, and divide half of your inheritance for her, I will withdraw the marriage alliance order.” I took off the bone pendant he once risked his life to give me and held it out to him. But he let it slip from his hand, shattering it against the floor. “If you don’t want it,” he said coldly, “then throw it away.” On the eve of the wedding alliance, Evelyn fell to her knees before the pack, sobbing as she accused me of hiding the Alpha’s Contract Stone—to help Colin breach our borders. The crowd erupted in whispers. Barry admitted it was he who had gifted me the stone, yet still turned on me, demanding: “If I ask for it back, will you return it?” At that moment, I finally let every hope die.

A blizzard erupted without warning, and the glacial mountains began to collapse. My instinct screamed at me to shift and run, to let my Inner Wolf take over and flee—but it was too late. The storm swept in, laced with a strange silver dust that hung heavy in the air. It was like an invisible chain, binding me tightly, locking away my wolf. Worse still, my strength was nearly gone. As captain of the Silvermoon Patrol, I had been out on the tundra all night. Hours ago, I had fought off a vicious ambush by Rogues, and my body still bore the wounds—deep, bleeding, and far from healed. I could feel it: my wolf energy had been pushed past its limit. Maxin, my Inner Wolf, was silent now, his strength depleted and unresponsive. My limbs were going numb, my body sinking into the snow as the roar of the wind drowned everything else out. But I wasn’t afraid. Because I knew he would come. My boyfriend—the head of the tribe's Search and Rescue Unit—had never failed a mission. I believed with all my heart that he would find me. And yet… he didn’t come himself. He sent a rookie instead, while he went after Daisy, whom he believed had been caught in an avalanche. But Daisy hadn’t been in danger at all. She merely wanted a dramatic way to confess her love to him. Three days later, Xander finally found me, buried deep beneath the frozen layers. He froze at the sight—my body, encased in ice, unmoving. He couldn’t believe it: the fierce, relentless warrior he knew, dead beneath the snow. He reached out to touch me… but the ice cracked. And before he could react, my body slipped into the depths of the glacier, vanishing into the abyss.

The day I found out I was pregnant, they threw me in the cold room. Ninety-nine calls later, Sandro Vaitti finally picked up. "The Family made that call," he said. "It was Genny's birthday. She got a fever because of you. This is your punishment. Just wait—once you're out, I'll marry you." Sandro's favorite line? 'Just wait.' His mafia family hated me. He swore once he gave them their precious heir, he'd cut ties and choose me. I bought it. Waited two years. Waited while he hooked up with Helga Cicili and had a kid—Genny. Then came the kicker: A daughter can't carry the Family name. He had to have a son with Helga. And yeah, I believed him. Again. Waited another year—until Helga got pregnant with his golden boy. I thought, 'Finally. Done waiting.' Then plot twist—I was pregnant too. Day before the wedding. Felt like fate. Didn't even get to tell him. They locked me up. Cold room. I curled up, shaking, barely breathing. When the door creaked open, I knew— I was done. Done waiting. Done begging. I'd leave. And I'd take my baby with me.