Lovesick Meaning

"Luna, are you really going to renounce your Shadow Pack membership? Once your status is revoked, your mate bond with the Alpha will automatically be severed. Are you absolutely certain?" My eyes gradually grew firm with resolve. "Yes. I'm certain." The Alpha Council staff member across from me couldn't hide their shock. Everyone in the pack knew how deeply the Alpha loved his Luna. "Alright, the renunciation has been registered. It will take effect in ten days." I nodded and turned away, dialing a number I hadn't called in five years. "Tell Thunder pack Alpha, I'm coming home in ten days to inherit Winters Pack."

My boyfriend of three years had a secret true love: my vicious best friend. For her, he swallowed my family business whole, froze every cent I had, and crushed my dignity into the dirt. When my father lay dying from a brain hemorrhage, I begged him for $50,000 to save his life. He refused cold-heartedly. At the exact moment my father died on the operating table, he was busy spending millions on rare jewelry for her. I didn't show up to our engagement party. Instead, I sent a "gift" that played on the big screen. That arrogant man went completely insane in front of the whole world.

Vampires only ever took one mate in their lifetime. And yet, my vampire husband refused to acknowledge me—his human wife, bound to him through an arranged marriage. On the night of our tenth wedding anniversary, Jason brought another woman into my bed. She was wearing my nightgown. She was carrying his child. And in my hand, I held a pregnancy test I'd just had confirmed. "Be reasonable, Elena. Jessica just conceived my child. She needs me." "Go sleep in the guest room. I'm sorry for the inconvenience." My husband shielded the other woman, his smile polished and gentlemanly, though his eyes held the same icy indifference they always did. When he saw me frozen in the doorway, Jason assumed I was going to do what I always did. Scream. Cry. Demand to know why he kept doing this to me. But he didn't know—this time was different. The ten-year contract had come due, and I was finally leaving him for good.

Three days after my father’s death, I was home, planning his funeral. A woman and a group of bodyguards stormed in. She shoved me, hard. "Who the hell do you think you are?" she screamed. "Get out of my house! Now!" I froze, stunned. A new housekeeper? Maybe my brother Liam hired her. I kept my voice calm. "This house is mine. Liam knows that. If you have a problem, take it up with him." Her face twisted into a mask of rage. Then she slapped me. "Yours?" She scoffed, looking me up and down with disgust. "This is my boyfriend Liam's house. And you look like you don't belong here. I don't know if you're the new maid or the cook, but I don't care. Get the hell out. Now." My blood ran cold. I pulled out my phone and texted my assistant. [Tell Liam to get home and handle his girlfriend. Now. Or he won't see a dime of the family money.]

My sister and I married into wealthy families at the same time and became glamorous society wives. She had been childhood sweethearts with her husband, a CEO who was admired and respected by all. On the surface, their marriage was harmonious and respectful. But three years after the wedding, she got drunk one night and tearfully confessed to me. "Carrie… he's seeing someone else. He even has a love child now. They've been together longer than we've been married. He's been lying to me all this time. I'm just a joke to him." My eyes burned, brimming with unshed tears. "Actually… Kai's cheating too. He even bought his mistress a luxury car." We cried together all night. Gradually, our sorrow slowly turned into cold, clear resolve. "I don't want that bastard anymore, Carrie." "It's okay, Rachel. If you're walking away, I am too. I don't want my scumbag husband either." After a long talk, we made our final decision: Since this life wasn't working, we'd disappear. We'd leave it all behind and vanish without a trace.

I was a stray pup. At five years old, several elite warriors captured me and threw me in front of the Alpha heir, Lucas. I heard his wolf talking to Lucas in his mind. "Lucas, this damn little thing is a hybrid of a werewolf and an evil witch. The prophecy shows she will be extremely vicious in the future, even killing your Mate. For the Moon Goddess, you must kill her now to protect your future Luna." Lucas agreed carelessly. But when he saw me, he froze. "Seriously? Dude, you’re saying this tiny thing is a homicidal maniac? How vicious can she be? Cursing the future Luna with a lollipop?" I tugged the corner of Lucas's expensive shirt, and looked up. "Big brother, I'm so hungry." He looked at my body, starved to just bones, and hesitated. "Anyway, the mate hasn't appeared yet. Might as well let her eat first. Even when we execute rogues, we usually let them eat their fill before killing them." His wolf replied, "Makes sense... but after she's full, you can't hesitate again!" From that day on, he raised me, this mixed-race brat, like a little sister in his pack. For over a decade, he and his wolf plotted countless times how to kill me, but always found various excuses to postpone the execution. Until I was 16, my brother was injured and lying in the healing center, but his wolf, having lost its will to live after being rejected by its mate, was unable to heal itself. The healer said my brother was going to die. I didn't try to stop him; I just found that playboy from school who had harassed me. I forced him to send my brother a mind link. "Alpha, I just wanted to say, Emma's body is really... really banging. I'll take good... care of her for you." I even chimed in through the mind link with a flirtatious whine. "Jason, don't be like that, Lucas will get mad... stop it." Less than half a second later. An earth-shattering roar came. "Son of a bitch! Jason, get the fuck away from her!" "If you touch a single finger on her, I'll tear you to shreds!"

Three days after the healer told me I was terminally ill, Keith Bradford—the alpha's heir—finally completed his training and returned to the pack. Rumor had it, he was back for his future mate. The alpha had chosen a perfect match for him—a well-bred, talented girl, two years younger than Keith. Sweet, gentle, never even had a boyfriend. The complete opposite of me, with exes as countless as the stars. It was not until a week after Keith returned that I finally saw him, outside the treatment room. He had not changed much—sharp features, high nose bridge, deep, defined eyes. Just as impossibly handsome as he was the first time we kissed. Almost as if sensing my gaze, Keith looked up, sharp and alert. Our eyes met—and for a second, it felt like the air froze. Everyone thought I would recklessly ruin Keith’s engagement, just like the wild girl I used to be. But what they didn’t realize was… my time was running out. I stepped forward, calm and composed, a faint smile on my lips. "It's been a while… my dear brother." I could not help but whisper in my heart, "These few days will be our final farewell, Keith."

Natalie used to hate stuffed animals. Now she's head-over-heels for a cotton doll. She called it "honey" and told our daughter, Yara, it was her real dad. Cool. Guess that made me the family ghost. At Yara's parent-teacher conference, I finally snapped and handed Natalie the divorce papers. Cue the gasps. Suddenly, I'm the villain. She slapped me—full drama mode. "It's just a doll! Why are you being so extra?" Yara hugged it like it was about to save the world, giving me the death stare. I shrugged, smirking. "You're the one who said it's your dream husband and Yara's one and only dad. So, like... why am I still here?"

The Moon Goddess offered me her protection. If I died, I'd get one chance to be reborn through the werewolf trials. I was born with "sensory impairment." I wasn't an Omega, but I couldn't shift into a wolf. I couldn't see or sense wolves in their lupine forms or their power. When I appeared alongside ninety-nine other trial candidates in an ancient rainforest shrouded in thick fog and darkness, everyone assumed I wouldn't make it past the first day. But here I was, in the terrifying rainforest nests, treating a ghostly wolf pup, drowned for its unusual coat color, as my own little cub. And, I flirted with a bloodthirsty vampire spirit who took pleasure in killing, treating him like a lover. I even befriended the evil twin Hexenbiest, treating them like sisters. The first time we met, I reached out and ran my hand over the vampire's abs. "Nice body," I commented, "just a bit on the short side." He let out a humorless laugh, reattached the head he'd been holding to his neck, and gripped my chin. "I'm six-foot-five," he said. "Want to take another look?"

I used to be the most promising composer of my generation. But while I was working on my latest piece, my husband Charles Lambert's childhood friend destroyed everything I had. She slashed my face, stole my compositions, and set fire to my house—leaving me to burn alive alongside the kitten I'd just adopted. Then, as if my death were just a spark for her success, she posted my compositions online, claiming I'd plagiarized her. And people believed her. Everyone did. Strangers on the internet sneered and spat my name, and my own husband, Charles, chose to believe her over me. Even the International Musical Society rescinded my award and handed it to her without a second thought. My students, who once followed me loyally, were now fawning over her. I became the laughingstock of the entire internet—mocked, discredited, erased. It wasn't until a week later, when someone stumbled upon the charred remains of my lakeside studio, that they found what was left of me.