Grand Marshal Bellion

“No matter how many times we turn back time, in the end, you and I will still be enemies. Don't you understand? This tragedy will never end until one of us dies.” In her previous life, Ariana lived as a stupid duchess who gave up her name just for the crown prince. Her mistake left her territory destroyed, her entire family annihilated, while Ariana was poisoned and abandoned after she was useless. In the end, Ariana ended her life by jumping from the top floor of the castle she lived in and dying regretfully. Given a second chance, Ariana returns to a time when the tragedy had not yet occurred. Ariana realized that the second chance was a chance for her to make up for all her mistakes. The girl was determined, that she would become a useful duchess for the kingdom she loved. War, battle for the throne, and a grand conspiracy will accompany Ariana on her journey to becoming the only duchess in the Kingdom of Sigmund.

My boyfriend of eight years secretly plans the grand wedding I've always dreamed of. Just as I'm overwhelmed with joy, he sends me to a landslide zone to replace his true love. Turns out, the entire wedding is for her. Heartbroken, I walk away. But just as I enter the experimental site, a second landslide hits. At the wedding, he finally panics when news breaks that I've gone missing.

Evan Moore is the perfect husband in everyone's eyes. He gives me a grand wedding and fully supports my career dreams. When I faced a difficult labor, he stayed by my side, kneeling for a full day and night until he nearly passed out from exhaustion. Afterward, he held me in his arms, sobbing until his eyes were red and swollen, his voice trembling with fear. "Honey, let’s not have any more kids… It's just too much." From then on, he spends his days and nights at the monastery, praying devoutly for me and our son, earning the title of the city’s most pious CEO. But one day, by pure chance, I glimpse the handwritten scriptures he keeps so carefully copied. And that's when I realize every word, every stroke, is a confession of his undying love… for his first love. All his tenderness, all his care—it was never truly for me. It was learned for her. I was nothing more than practice—a stand-in for his so-called true love.

"I, Alec Tawr of Lunar Crest pack, reject you, Elara Wildewood, of Lunar Crest pack," he utters, his voice cutting through the silence. The words sear into my soul, and my heart shatters, broken pieces scattering within me. The pain consumes me, wrapping its icy tendrils around my spirit. “Why?” I ask, letting out a painful cry as my knees give away and I collapse to the floor. Does he think that I agreed to marry Prince Magnus willingly? That I don’t wish to be with him? “Why?” I repeat. He blinks and I see him shiver as he clenches his jaw. “Just accept the rejection, El. Make it stop,” he says, his voice sharp and hard. I allow myself to cry, letting the tears cascade down my cheeks until I’m a sobbing mess. “I can’t. I want you.” He clutches his chest and I hate to see him hurting. “It’s not possible. Please accept the reception.” And so I do it. “I, Elara Wildewood of Lunar Crest pack, accept your rejection.” ---- Elara Wildewood knows her life is doomed when she is forced to step in as the substitute bride for Magnus Blackwell, the disabled and cruel Prince of Caelondor. After she is rejected by her mate, she has no choice but to accept her fate. However, after she's wed, she finds out that the truth is not as it seems and the grand palace of Caelondor holds a lot more intrigue and secrecy than she anticipated earlier. Trapped in a web or lies and deception, Elara decides to take control of her life and trains to become stronger. As she gains the admiration of her court, she also attracts the Prince attention's who will stop at nothing to keep her safe.

When Father asks me who I want to marry, I resolutely give up on Prince Maurice Swain. I choose to marry his uncle, Prince Gideon Swain. Father is confused. After all, everyone in the capital knows that I'm desperately in love with Maurice. I've said more than once that he's the only man I'll marry. I only have a bitter taste in my mouth. I married Maurice in my past life, and I gave my all in managing the household. Yet he never came home and even took a mistress behind my back. When I eventually became bedridden after wearing myself out, he brought Camilla Chapman back and threw her a grand wedding. The children they'd secretly had together came with her. It was only then that I realized the tonics Maurice had given me had rendered me infertile and weak. They slowly ate away at me from the inside. I watched as Maurice and Camilla lived a happy life with their children. I chose to let them have what they wanted. Now that I've been reborn, I'm going to stay away from Maurice and marry Gideon instead. Yet when Maurice finds out, he goes berserk. He stands before me with his eyes bloodshot as he forbids me from marrying Gideon.

I was in a car accident while saving my brothers. However, instead of gratitude, they urged the doctors to amputate my legs. "Carol, we're sorry," they said through tears. "We're useless… but don't worry. Even if we have to sell our blood or our kidneys, we'll make sure you're taken care of." Right after surgery, they abandoned me in a shabby apartment. Blood seeped through the sheets as they looked at me with teary eyes—then left in a hurry, claiming they needed to earn money for my treatment. I did not want to drag them down anymore. Enduring the pain, I crawled to the rooftop of a tall building, planning to end my life. That's when I saw it—inside a luxury hotel, a grand celebration was taking place. My brothers were there doting on another girl. She was eating an extravagant cake I had never even dreamed of, wearing a designer princess gown worth a fortune, sparkling with jewels. Everyone called her the Smith family's one and only princess. They had even hired a world-class symphony orchestra to play Happy Birthday just for her. While I lay bleeding in a dingy apartment, they would not spend a few dollars on bandages for me. I watched as my eldest brother gently fed her cake, his eyes full of tenderness. "Jasmine, only you deserve to be our one and only little sister." The second brother placed a tiara on her head with care. "Even for the smallest birthday, we won't let you suffer a single moment of disappointment." The third knelt to help her into a pair of crystal shoes. "Jasmine, you're our most precious darling." Then, standing on the stage, Jasmine held up the black credit card they had gifted her and smiled sweetly. "Brothers," she said, "Carol lost her legs saving you. Maybe you should go see how she's doing?" My eldest brother let out a mocking laugh. "She's not worth it. Now that she's crippled, she'll never be able to compete with you again. She got what she deserved."

My grandfather is a nationally renowned inheritor of an intangible cultural heritage. Today, I'm supposed to attend a grand ceremony as his rightful successor. However, when I arrive, I see my father's adoptive daughter already standing on the stage. She's dressed to the nines. She holds an award and is giving a thank-you speech, looking moved. In the past, I would've left without saying anything or speaking up for myself. Too bad for her that I'd been reborn. The discrepancy between our statuses is so large that we're basically from different worlds. Yet she has the nerve to claim to be my grandfather's successor and put on a show with what is supposed to be my family's.

After my 99th confession, my childhood best friend, Michael Leight, finally says yes. I am overjoyed, believing that my years of unrequited love have finally paid off. But when I walk past the pantry, I overhear him speaking tenderly to our family chef, Tahlia Duvey. "Once I take everything from the Kingstons, I'll kick that idiot Ariel to the curb and throw us a grand wedding. Everything here will be yours." My heart feels like a sword has been plunged into it. That night, I storm into Grandpa's study and point at a photo of the Gordon family's heir—Charles, known for always keeping his distance from women. "Grandpa! I want to marry him!" I announce.

I was growing up as the much-hated "fake heiress" in a wealthy family, and my life took a devastating turn after my death. My childhood friend who lived next door leaked my nudes online, branding me as manipulative and promiscuous. This ignited public outrage, with strangers celebrating my demise at my family's home. My parents, eager to sever any connection with me, destroyed our mansion that very night, even going so far as to feed my ashes to the dog. Everyone said I deserved it. On the day the true heiress married my childhood friend in a grand, live-streamed wedding, I gave them a unique wedding present from beyond the grave.

Madison Byers returns to the dazzling city of Los Angeles, determined to reclaim her family's legacy after the tragic loss of her father. Yet, standing in her way is a menacing uncle with ambitions to seize her father's empire. In a city where power and wealth rule, Madison's last hope for redemption takes an unexpected twist when she shares a passionate one-night encounter with Tyler Marshal, the charismatic billionaire playboy. Tyler Marshal, accustomed to a world of deceit and danger, suddenly finds himself captivated by Madison's wit and determination. Their lives collide, and a whirlwind of events propels them into an arranged marriage neither of them saw coming. As they navigate the treacherous waters of high society, deceit, and hidden agendas, the fate of their families hangs in the balance. Trusts are shattered, and long-buried secrets claw their way to the surface. In a city where destiny can change with a stolen kiss or a fleeting touch, Madison and Tyler must dance to the unpredictable tune of fate while facing relentless opposition at every turn. Sometimes, destiny also begins with the brush of lips or touch, but how well can both parties dance to its tune with the many oppositions?. In "Thorns of the Heart", a tale of love, intrigue and power, will they emerge victorious or be consumed by their demons?