How Zodiac Signs Die

This was the greatest mistake I made. An unplanned pregnancy from a one-night stand. Right after losing my baby, the only soul I had on earth to comfort me, to adoption, I realized I'd made a great mistake, worse than engaging in a one-night stand. So I was determined to find her and take her back. So I became a nanny and got posted to take care of a little girl who had only Alpha daddies, no mother. It's however a great surprise to realize this girl looks pretty much like the baby I sold off in adoption. “Am I dreaming?” What? She looks so much like me, could this be a coincidence of what I just had in mind or she's– My daughter? It's at this point, I see seven hot men, all identical, same height and faces, muscular, hot and stepping out of the estate. Here is another mighty distraction. “Who are these?” I mutter, asking the little girl. “They are my daddies. Seven Alphas raised me up after the death of my mom. That's why I'm asking "why do I look so much like you?” As the confusion in me heightens, the seven Alphas are coming closer. It hits me deep to realize that they all have the same scent. My wolf, which has always been calm, immediately leaps up, growling so loud. What's really going on? “Mates! Mates!! Mates!!!” I hear my wolf leap and screaming. I need one man, not seven Alphas. How can all these cute, charming, young men be mates with such a lowly girl as I? I'm sure the moon goddess made a pretty big mistake by doing this.

My mom, who works as a lawyer, decides to take me to court just because I refuse to donate my platelets to my younger sister, Lindsey Finch. I explained to her that I have a blood clotting disorder, and having an extremely low platelet count would put my life at risk. But she screamed at me through tears: “Can’t you just stop pretending? Do you really have to let your sister die? How could I have raised such an ungrateful wretch?” I lost the case, and my platelets were forcibly taken. I suffered a massive hemorrhage and died a miserable death alone in a deserted corner.

I died the day my husband forced the doctors to take our baby from my womb. I thought I’d never love again after losing my ex-boyfriend to a heart attack. But fate gave me a second chance. I married the man I adored, a billionaire named Maxwell. Just when I was about to share the joyful news of my pregnancy, I caught him getting cozy with my best friend, Morgana. Worse, he believed her lies: I was a drug addict. The truth? I was battling a severe mental illness triggered by my ex’s death. I needed medication to cope, but Maxwell never cared to understand. He refused to believe a word I said. They locked me away in a private rehab clinic. But that place wasn’t for healing, it was a trap. Morgana used it to cut me off from Maxwell and torment me without consequence. And just when I thought things couldn’t get worse… Maxwell signed off on a surgery to take my baby. I lay on that cold operating table, tears streaming down my face, and died in the fire that followed—broken, betrayed, and alone. But I never expected to wake up again. This time, I have a new life. A new family. And even one of my children survived. Maxwell, Morgana—this time, I’m coming back. And you’re both going to pay.

After failing to win the hearts of the first three targets, I decide to get engaged to Natalia Stone, the paralyzed heiress of the Stone family. Soon, I use all of my points just to swap for Natalia's ability to stand up once again. But the first thing Natalie does after recovering from her paralysis is to cancel the engagement with me. After that, she gives Irving Schmidt the grandest and most eye-catching wedding that will take place on the cruise. At the wedding venue, all four of my targets stare at Irving with love and adoration in their eyes. Suddenly, I feel like going home, so I jump into the sea without hesitation. But when my body plunges into the sea, four silhouettes can be seen rushing toward me. Regret and fear are written on their faces.

Because I was a cheapskate, I rented a cheap apartment. The catch? Someone had died in it. The soundproofing of the house was bad, and I could hear my neighbor’s wife moaning every night. But my other neighbor told me that there was no one living in the apartment next to mine.

My brother-in-law had a sudden heart attack. The doctor said only my wife could perform the specific surgery he needed. It was a critical situation. By the time I finally managed to get through to her, her childhood sweetheart answered the phone. "We're just about to head out camping," he said casually. "We won't be coming back tonight." My heart sank. "Ryan had a heart attack. He needs surgery immediately. Tell her to come back to the hospital—now." Instead, my wife's irritated voice cut through. "Are you done? How dare you make up a lie like that and curse my brother!" Before I could explain, she hung up. When I tried calling back, her phone was already off. In the end, my brother-in-law died because the window for surgery closed. And my wife lost her mind.

Everyone in the underworld knew Rosalie Thorne, the "Thorn Principessa" of the North. Wild, rebellious, notorious. Street racing, high-stakes gambling, guns, and drinking, she had mastered them all. The rose-and-thorn tattoo on the nape of her neck drove countless men wild. But what they didn't know was that for Rocco, the new mob boss of the South, a single sentence, "I prefer a more obedient woman," was all it took. At his word, I had the tattoo lasered off and swapped my leathers for long, conservative dresses. I am Rosalie. For five years, I hid my identity and played the porcelain doll Rocco wanted. Until the night he eliminated all his rivals and was crowned the new Don of the South. That was when he let his men bow to another woman, hailing her as their "Donna." I watched Rocco. The same hands that had just executed a traitor were now gently placing a pair of red high heels on the feet of his adoptive sister, Vivian. "Rosalie, she has a temper. She'll make a scene if she doesn't get the title." "You're the good one, the obedient one. Just let her have this." That day, I walked straight out into the rain and never looked back. I was never truly obedient. I just made myself smaller for him. My family had already chosen a husband for me. They had been waiting five years, just for me to say yes.

Memories would flow back. Spells would be casted. The dead would be resurrected. A war would ensue. And a change in the atmosphere... the wicked ones became good and the good ones became wicked. The Chosen Twelve were destined to protect the mages of Ataraxia from formidable black creatures, in accordance to the prophecy of the Phoenix Empress. They were the Celestial Zodiacs, the most powerful twelve beings. They were the keepers of peace and order. The chosen ones who will soon retrieve Ataraxia from its ashes.

A week before my death, my Alpha mate's childhood sweetheart Sarah returned to our pack. That night, he didn't come home. The next day, I received his mind-link. "I've purchased a mate-bond severing potion from the pack witch. Come home now so we can break our bond." In our pack, the Moon Goddess was very serious about mate bonds. Once two wolves chose to form a mate, the mate bond could not be severed, unless the witch's potion was used. This potion was very expensive, costing up to $500,000 per bottle. I smiled bitterly. He was very generous to sever the bond with me. I coughed twice before answering, "I'm in the healing center." His voice turned ice cold. "I don't care where you are. Even if you're about to die, you need to come back." I calmly replied, "Fine." He didn't know that I really was dying. Three years ago, during a rogue wolf attack, I blocked the silver dagger for him to protect him while he was unconscious. I was poisoned by silver and became weaker and weaker over the past three years. I only had one week left to live. On the day of my funeral, my mate was busy holding his marking ceremony with Sarah. Later, he knelt before my grave in pristine white ceremonial clothes, clutching my headstone and whispering through tears. "If there's another life after this one, I still want to marry you." That day was his marking ceremony with his childhood sweetheart. It was also my funeral.

El día que papá asistió a una fiesta con su ex y se volvió tendencia, todos se burlaban de mi mamá. Decían que había dejado atrás una gran carrera para entrar en una familia rica, pero después de treinta años seguía sin nombre ni lugar, sin siquiera el valor de reclamarle a la amante. Después de tanto llorar, mamá me miró cansada. —Él me falló primero, así que yo tampoco lo quiero. —Amanda, ¿te vas conmigo? Justo entonces sonó mi celular. Era un mensaje de mi novio de siete años: "Amanda, solo es un acta de matrimonio. ¿No podemos seguir como novios?" Guardé silencio unos segundos antes de asentir. Así fue que, el mismo día de su boda, mamá y yo desaparecimos entre las llamas de la mansión.