Levi Crying

After five years of being mated to Alpha Lucas, I finally got pregnant. Lucas and I were ecstatic, but five months into the pregnancy, I suffered an accidental miscarriage. The Chief Healer told me it was because my wolf was too weak. I couldn't handle the news and blacked out. The usually stoic Alpha couldn't stop weeping. I thought he was as devastated as I was. That was until I accidentally overheard his conversation with his Beta. "Alpha, why gag the healer? Luna clearly ingested Wolfsbane. Why aren't we hunting down the culprit?" Beta Marcus's voice was full of confusion. "We bury this." Lucas's voice was heavy with suppressed pain. "It was Isabella. She slipped Wolfsbane into Emily's tonic by mistake. Isabella suffered severe brain damage saving me three years ago; she has the mind of a five-year-old. She can't tell the difference between Wolfsbane and Moon Grass..." "She just wanted to help brew the tonic to help Emily get better, to make me happy. But if the Council catches wind of this, they will absolutely execute Isabella for murdering the Alpha heir." Ever since Isabella saved his life three years ago and became mentally regressed, she had shamelessly invaded our lives. On stormy nights, she would crawl into Lucas's bed wearing translucent lingerie, crying that she was scared, forcing Lucas to hold her all night while I was relegated to the guest room. He always said Isabella was brain-damaged, stuck with the IQ of a five-year-old, just like a child. He treated her like a sister and told me not to hold it against her. Since you loved your Isabella so much, I would grant you your wish. I picked up the private phone I hadn't used in five years. "I regret it. I'm willing to return to the Royal Pack. Come get me tomorrow." But when I truly disappeared, the once arrogant Alpha killed his precious Isabella and begged me to come back.

After being forced to go to rogue wolf territory to exchange my mate's kidnapped childhood sweetheart while three months pregnant, I was tortured to death. Before my death, my eight-year-old daughter begged her father three times. The first time, my daughter took her father's hand and said, "Daddy, mommy is pregnant with my little brother. She can't go to the rogue territory." The alpha wolf let out a cold laugh: "How dare your mother teach a pup to lie." Then he had his beta guards drive my daughter out of the pack house. The second time, my daughter grabbed his sleeve and told him the rogue wolves were torturing me with silver. The alpha frowned: "These rogues were hired by your mother to kidnap Willow. How could she really be tortured?" The guards stepped forward and once again pulled my daughter out of the room. The third time, my daughter lay on the floor, desperately clutching his pant leg, crying that I was dying in the rogue wolf territory. The alpha finally lost his temper. He slapped her away with force. "I told you, Ava won't die. She's strong. If you come running back here to disturb Willow's rest again, I'll definitely throw both of you out of the pack territory." To save me, my daughter gave her most precious possession to the most powerful warrior in the pack—the healing gemstone I had given her for her birthday. "Please, can you use this to help save my mother? I don't need protection anymore. I just want my mother to live." The warrior took her healing gemstone, but before he could leave to rescue me, Willow stepped in his way. "Sorry, little pup," she smirked. "The warrior needs to stay here to protect my dog. Your father was afraid I would be sad if anything happened to my pet."

Rose Johnson Kapoor He called me a lioness. He taught me how to be one. But what he failed to understand was that I'm more than just the lioness—I'm a rose with thorns-who'll bring him to his knees. Ryan Johnson walked away, left without a second glance shattering my heart and left me bleeding. But I’m done waiting. Done crying for someone who easily discarded me. I’ve crossed oceans to claim what’s mine and make him suffer. He'd forced me to submit—to bend, to surrender. But this time, he’ll be kneeling and begging. What he doesn’t know, that I’m not just here to ruin him—I’m here to own him. To carve my name into his world the way he once carved himself into my soul. He'll feel every ounce of my wrath. And when I'm done, he'll beg to be mine. Yet, there's something I can't escape-a truth, I refuse to face. A question-For how long I'll be able to hold on to my hate-or-the secret I'm hiding. Especially when he shows the side of him that I'd never seen before. ____ Ryan Johnson I knew she’d come. My lioness never accepts defeat. I thought leaving was right, but all I did was destroy the only thing that mattered. Now, she’s here. And she wants war. She wants me to suffer, to pay. What she doesn’t realize is, I already have. I’ve been on my knees for her since the day I walked away. But she won’t break me. If she wants a fight, I’ll give her one. Because I don’t just want her rage—I want all of her. Yet, as I pull her back into my world, something lurks in the shadows-A threat we've to fight.

Andrea Reeves, the new hire in finance, is all looks and no brains. On payday, she mistypes my wages in the payroll system, sending only one cent to my account. Because of that, my payment fails when I try to buy Mom's life-saving medication, and she dies full of regret. Before I can confront Andrea, she bursts into tears, smudging her mascara and makeup. "Ms. Walton, I'm so sorry. I accidentally sent your pay to the janitor you fired. The one who's a single mom. Can't you just think of her as your other mom?" Norman Halt, the finance director—and my husband—immediately shields her behind him. "Don't blame Andrea. If you didn't have enough money saved up, why are you pretending to be the dutiful daughter now?" I nearly faint from crying so hard. Wracked with guilt, Andrea shows up at the funeral with an entire marching band in tow. The mourning hall turns festive and lively, leaving my family and friends stunned. I lose it and yell at her to leave, but she looks completely hurt. "It's already so tragic that she dies from an illness. I just want to give her a joyful send-off!" Furious, the asthma I've managed for years flares so abruptly that my hands shake as I take out my inhaler. She slaps it away and screams, "How could you use such illegal substances? That's against the law!" Blue-lipped and gasping, I crumple to the ground. In my final moments, I hear Andrea's tearful voice. "This is all my fault. I'm an idiot… I didn't realize it's just medicine…" Norman covers for her. "It's not your fault. Spread the word that Ms. Walton died of grief over her mother's passing." That night, my body is cremated. My death goes silent and unnoticed. When I open my eyes again, it's payday all over again.

My wife and I slept in separate beds for over three years. Then on our wedding anniversary, she suddenly tried to win me over. She climbed into my bed and pulled out all the stops, trying to get me to sleep with her. I stayed calm and collected. When our son started crying, I used it as an excuse to escape to his room, where I stayed all night. Vivian Hartley spent the entire night knocking on the door. The next morning, she acted sweet and gentle, graciously making me breakfast as if nothing had happened. She even tried to hand over her salary card. When my mother-in-law heard about this, she exploded at her daughter. "You pathetic fool! People need some self-respect! If you can't stand up for yourself, just get a divorce already!" Yet Vivian claimed her feelings for me ran so deep that the heavens themselves could vouch for her sincerity. She even defied her own mother. Our relatives and friends looked at us with envy. But my son and I continued to give her the cold shoulder. Finally, Vivian turned to social media for help. "Three years ago, I was busy with work. My husband and I had completely different schedules. I was afraid it would affect my performance at work, so I suggested we sleep in separate rooms. "Now our child is older, and I've swallowed my pride to try to fix things, but my husband won't even touch me." Someone in the comments gave her some advice: install hidden cameras around the house. "We can't just take your word for it. Record everything so we can see what's really going on. Plus, if things actually end in divorce, at least you'll have built up your social media following. It won't be a total loss." Vivian had no idea I was watching from among her followers.

“Dad, can you leave Mama Sammy and marry my Mom instead?” Summer braised herself when she heard her stepson, Lucian asking her husband, Giovanni. “Of course.” Tuluyang nabasag ang puso niya nang marinig ang sagot ng kanyang asawa. **** After years of being in love with him, Summer grabbed the chance to be his companion in bed when Giovanni and his first love—Amber, broke up. Ngayong bumalik na ang babae at ang anak nito ay naiwan siyang luhaan. Iyon ang akala niya dahil nang magmulat siya ng mga mata ay natagpuan na lang niya ang sarili na ikinakasal kay Giovanni dahil sa Daddy niya. Tila pinapaboran siya ng tadhana. Nawala sa eksena sa Amber. Kahit malamig ang pakikitungo sa kanya ni Giovanni ay ayos lang. Naniniwala siya na kapag naging mabuti siyang asawa at ina sa anak nitong si Lucian ay mamahalin din siya nito. But oh boy!, she’s wrong. Nang bumalik si Amber ay nawala rin ang mag-ama sa kanya. Giovanni was with Amber during their first anniversary. Broken-hearted, she signed the divorce paper and left the country. Years later, when Summer’s father asked for her help, she came back fully moved on and became a Captain of Green Beret US Army. Her and Giovanni’s path meets again without him knowing they had a daughter. And the man was acting like he didn’t bring pain before. He was acting like a lovable husband, getting her attention all he wanted. ********* “I signed the divorce paper, don’t expect the same when it comes to my kid,” asik sa kanya ni Giovanni na para bang kasalanan niya pa ng lahat. His son, Lucian came too. Crying when Summer’s daughter fought with him. “Mama Sammy, inaway ako ng bata. Don’t you want me and Daddy anymore?”

Four years ago, at my mating ceremony with Alpha Damien, a witch publicly prophesied: "The powerful Alpha will betray the mate bond." Damien unleashed a terrifying wave of Alpha dominance on the spot, forcing the witch to her knees. He gripped my hand tightly and declared before the entire pack that I was his one and only mate. For three years of our marriage, he was flawless—devoted, attentive, beyond reproach. Until a year ago, when he was gravely wounded during a border patrol and rescued by a stunningly beautiful rogue Omega named Selene. Selene fell for Damien at first sight. She even knelt at his feet in front of me, crying: "I don't want anything in return. Just let me stay near you—I'd be your mistress with no title if that's what it takes." Damien shoved her away without hesitation and coldly ordered her placed at the edge of the territory, never allowing her within arm's reach. In that moment, I trusted him completely. I believed our mate bond was unbreakable. Selene asked seductively. "Alpha, who's better in bed—me, or your dignified little Luna? Your cock fucks me so good every time." Damien's low, ragged breathing filled the audio. He slapped her ass and warned coldly: "Don't get ideas above your station. Elena is my only Luna. You're just a bitch I use to blow off steam." Selene pouted with a coy whine: "I'll happily be your bitch as long as you keep fucking me." The video ended. Immediately after, an anonymous text popped up: "You sit in the Luna's seat. I'm in the Alpha's bed. Now we're even." I sat there all night, silently printing out a termination agreement for our mate bond. Since that's how it is, then I'll grant your wish. But after I left, the powerful Alpha went mad.

After I get abducted to an underground auction house belonging to a mafia family based in Aleroth, I become the most popular commodity ever in the live stream hosted on the dark web. As the live comments flood the screen and the viewers keep tipping the live stream, I feel my legs being forced open inch by inch. The electric chair beneath me keeps pulsing me with jolts of electricity, making me tremble uncontrollably. Men keep rearranging my limbs however they want in various positions. Then, they put me through all sorts of torture, as if I'm not a human being at all. Once everything is over, I can only curl into a small ball in a corner of the iron cage. My clothes are completely disheveled, and my gaze remains hollow and lifeless. That's when I hear someone speaking in Elythran, a language I'm familiar with. "Haha! That chick still thinks she can escape from this place!" "To think that the mafia princess of Elythra ends up getting lured to this place and reduced to a common whore for us to toy with! Those brothers really are ruthless!" "I heard the brothers did this just to appease their adopted younger sister, Emilia Ricci. That's why they ordered us to put up a show. Even the people tipping on the live stream are actors they've hired to make this show perfect." "This idiot is still waiting for her brothers to come rescue her! Last night, she kept crying out to them in her sleep, begging them to save her!" As the henchmen speak, they open the door to my room, only to be stunned by the blood-stained floor. Immediately, they dig out their phones and begin dialing numbers anxiously. The moment I make out one of the numbers, I feel my blood turn into ice. It appears that the so-called abduction is just a show that my brothers have put on just to appease Emilia… I can feel blood rising in my throat. As my vision goes blurry, I think I see another man's gentle expression. That's the memory that I've kept buried deep inside my heart—the memory of my actual older brother, Silvio Gallo.

After giving birth to Alpha Wesley Silvermoon's pup, I fell into severe postpartum depression. Whenever the scent he left on me began to fade, I couldn't help but have the urge to hurt myself. It was Wesley who held me tight in his arms, kissing my forehead repeatedly, saying, "Don't be afraid, Maggie. The pup and I will stay with you, always." Every morning, he took me to see a therapist. In the afternoon, he handled the pack's affairs. At night, he fed Brett the pup himself. The dark circles beneath his eyes grew heavier by the day, yet he never once complained. Until one day. Brett was crying for his mother, while I hid in the bathroom, hurting myself. When Wesley saw what happened, he completely lost it. He grabbed me by the throat viciously. "If you don't want a pup, you shouldn't have had one! You gave birth to it, but you can't even take care of it! You don't deserve to be a mother!" He bellowed, "How much longer are you going to torment this family? You want to die so badly? Fine! I'll help you!" The moment he said that, he instantly came back to his senses. He broke his wrist and apologized to me. I didn't say anything, merely staring blankly at the phone that had fallen to the floor. The screen was still lit. 37 missed calls. All from the same name. Rowena Sawthorne. She was someone who had recently returned to the pack. Wesley's first love from his youth. She was healthy, beautiful, confident. She and Wesley were once the celebrity couple that everyone admired. Even Brett, whom I had nearly died giving birth to, would smile when she held him in her arms. Perhaps only she was worthy of being his mate, worthy of being Brett's mother. Maybe, this was for the best. At last, I could die without any worry.

The day after my best friend, Sarah Blunt married Patrick, the second son of the Brosnan family, I too became a bride and wed Matthew, his older brother. She married a swimming champion, and I, the rock-climbing coach. We thought we had our futures all figured out. Then, something happened that summer. The four of us planned a getaway but Matthew and Patrick’s baby sister, Megan joined us and our peaceful trip became a crowded affair.  While rock climbing, disaster struck—the rope snapped, and all five of us plummeted into the river below. The brothers rushed frantically to save Megan, leaving Sarah and me at the mercy of the river’s current, battered and tossed like driftwood. By the time the rescue team pulled us from the water, we were bruised, scraped, and utterly spent. In the hospital, Megan and I received devastating news that would change everything.  “You’ve been pregnant for 40 days, Ma’am. How could you put yourself in such a risky situation? Your baby survived, but your friend lost hers.” Shaken, I called Matthew to tell him about the pregnancy. His anger cut through the line. “You’re angry that I went to Megs first and now you’re trying to fool me with a fake pregnancy? She’s my sister—it’s my duty to protect her!” Sarah faced her own storm. Patrick practically scoffed at her grief. “Miscarriage? Do you expect me to believe that? The doctors said you only had a 30% chance of conceiving. I can’t stand women who create drama out of nothing.” Both calls ended abruptly, leaving us stunned as we stared at each other in the sterile light of the hospital room. In that shared silence, we made our decision—we would leave these men behind and start anew, launching a business together. But when the brothers received our divorce papers, they showed up at my door in the middle of a storm, kneeling in the pouring rain, crying through the night for a second chance.