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In a world where werewolves rule from the shadows, Rhett Blackwood is king. To hold his empire, he must forge a blood bond with a ruthless assassin who would rather kill him than kneel. But when one act of violence awakens a bond written in fate — and blood — they are thrown into a brutal war where love may be their only weapon… and their greatest curse.

Belinda's adoptive family demanded that she marry as soon as possible because her half-sister and all her cousins ​​were already married, even though she was still in college. Furthermore, the main reason for this demand was that her adoptive family hated her and no longer wanted to care for her. On the first day of her fifth semester, Belinda caused trouble for the hot-tempered Brandon, which led to a rift between them on campus as professor and student. However, Brandon ultimately wanted to marry Belinda because his biological mother, who had been hidden for years in a remote hospital with access only to certain individuals, was in danger. Coincidentally, Belinda had volunteered to care for Brandon's mother. Recognizing that his own student, and the woman he hated most, was his mother's savior, Brandon decided to marry Belinda. Furthermore, his desire to marry Belinda was to avoid an arranged marriage he didn't want. Initially, Belinda didn't want to marry Brandon because of his excessive behavior, but now she was forced to do so to reap the benefits he offered her. However, Belinda didn't want their marriage to be widely publicized on campus or on social media. Both Belinda and Brandon were forced to stage a fake wedding. Their relationship has been filled with hatred since their first meeting, how did they fall in love? Who is the person who is after Brandon's mother's life?

On my wedding day, my fiancé's first love walked in holding a little boy and named the groom as the child's father. My mother saw it, and her heart gave out. She died right there on the floor. The wedding collapsed and I went down with it, fainting in front of everyone. When I came to, my oldest friend, Lucian Graves, was sitting beside me. He held me tightly in his arms. He took care of all my mother’s funeral arrangements for me. When the reporters swarmed, he put himself between me and the cameras. He cleared my name over the wedding, and then he got down on one knee in front of everyone and asked me to marry him, swearing he would take care of me for the rest of my life. After marriage, we became the happiest couple in our circle. Then, on our first anniversary, I opened the chat history on his phone. "Don, thank God you set up that wedding disruption. My son and I are happy now." "You did get her mother killed, though. Don't blame yourself. She's the one who insisted on marrying a man who was never hers." The replies were from Lucian. "Nothing to blame myself for. It was just an accident." "As long as you're happy, there's nothing I won't do." The ground dropped out from under me, and the phone hit the floor.

Calvin walked unsteadily towards Emily with a sly grin. A faint smile remained on his lips until Calvin stood right in front of Emily. "Is there something wrong if I change clothes in my own room?" Calvin stopped right in front of Hasna without breaking their eye contact at all. "After all, we are husband and wife, it's fine for me to be naked in front of you, right?" Calvin teased as he pried open Emily's hands which were still covering her face. "I'm not ready yet, Calvin, will you shut up your finches first?" Emily demanded, still keeping both hands covering her eyes. "Hahaha, this is Emily's eagle, not a finch," Calvin corrected because he felt insulted if the heirloom weapon he had carefully guarded for 29 years was called a finch. "Come on, open it! Take a look at my eagle!"

"She will come back," she promised. "She just needs time to sort her head out." "Not her heart?" The dry distinction made Charley wince. "I'm sure she loves you," she persisted. "She's just not ready to commit to marriage." If you just give her time, then I— Black eyebrows with a fascinating silken gloss gave her a curious look. "Are you actually standing there, Miss Jones, suggesting that I should wait for Adelina to sort her head out?" Well, was she? Lifting her chin, "If you love her—yes," she insisted. "Then you are a romantic fool because it is not going to happen." He moved suddenly, straightening away from the desk. "There is a wedding arranged for next Saturday morning, and I intend to make sure that it goes ahead." Without a bride? Charley stared at him. "You mean—you're going to find her and drag her back to marry you?" A silly kind of laugh left her throat at the very image of Adelina being dragged by this man down the church aisle, kicking and screaming. ‘No.’ Reaching behind him, his long fingers picked Adelina's letter up again—this time to fold it with slow, neat precision. "I mean to replace her with someone else."I want reparation for being taken for an idiot, and if that means putting you in Adelina's wedding dress and marrying you in her place, then that is what is going to happen."

This year, as the country's leading neurosurgeon, I was invited to perform a high-profile specialist surgery at a hospital in another state. Twenty years ago, I stood in this very operating room. My mother suffered a cerebral hemorrhage, and the surgeon's hand slipped by less than a quarter of an inch. She died. Back then, it was my first love, Ethan Lancaster, who helped me through the grief. Only later did I learn the truth. The surgeon listed on the case was Ethan's father, the hospital's renowned Chief of Neurosurgery. But the one actually holding the scalpel was Ethan himself, still a surgical resident at the time. He and Vanessa Hart had planned it all along. They used my mother's operation as a practice case to advance his career. After the tragedy, Vanessa used her status as the hospital director's daughter to bury the entire incident. From that day forward, I gave up my guaranteed research placement and sat for medical school entrance exams again. I studied from undergraduate through postdoctoral training. I spent twenty full years turning myself into the kind of surgeon who would never make that mistake. All so that one day, no one else would have to suffer the same tragedy my mother did. Today, my assistant slid a patient's file across the desk. Brainstem tumor. Late stage. Extremely high risk. The face in the photo had aged considerably, but I recognized it at a glance. I handed the file back to my assistant and removed my surgical coat. “I can't perform this surgery.”

During a livestream of my brother, Douglas Wilcox's heart transplant surgery, I, the lead surgeon, turn tail and flee with my tail between my legs halfway through the surgery. Because of that, Douglas ends up dying on the operating table, and I become a murderer. My mom kneels on the floor with tears streaming down her cheeks. She questions me, "You're the only one capable of performing this surgery in the entire country! Why did you run away? "We've been waiting for 20 long years for a suitable heart that can save Douglas' life! You're the one who killed him!" In the face of the growing public outlash and the pressure exerted by the health department, the police built a case on this incident and decided to investigate me. On the day I'm whisked away by the police, the enraged onlookers and the reporters have me surrounded. "Dr. Wilcox, although you're just an adopted daughter, the Wilcox family still loves and pampers you to no end. Why did you do this? "People without medical ethics like you are murderers! You deserve to get skinned alive!" I just look at the camera with a stony expression. "Someone else is the actual murderer here. The truth and the proof that all of you badly want are already revealed in the livestream."

"Boss, Madam said you were exploiting her labor. She wants to resign." "I don't allow." He wore gold-framed glasses, focusing on the stack of documents in front of him. As he looked up, it seemed the summer sun's brightness could only match his handsome face, "Has she not realized her mistake?" Seeing his calm demeanor, his assistant panicked, "This time, Madam wants to resign as your wife." Impossible! Even when his son went to school, he had teachers to care for him. How could he work so hard in this office but not receive a bit of care from his wife? He wanted to meet her right now! After only a few minutes without seeing her, he already missed his little girl. --------------------- It's still the same 'him' from four years ago. "Emma Garcia, I'm so tired. If you're so heartless towards me, never let me see you again!" Who dared to say that to his wife four years ago? He'd hit them! After pursuing his wife for so many years, no one can prevent him from pampering her anymore!

Buried deep in the Aster estate was the Heartwood—ancient, sacred, mine. Told my husband, Julian Aster—back when he actually listened—that if it ever fell, I'd die with it. At first, he freaked out. Flew in glacier water, hired a whole squad of plant experts to nurture it 24/7. Then one day, just because his childhood friend—Isabella Duvall—got a scratch from the bark, Julian had the Heartwood ripped out. The second it crashed, I choked on glowing blood—ichor. My power? Gone. Barely standing, I grabbed his arm. "You knew. If the Heartwood dies, I—" He laughed. Straight-up mocked me. "Sera, come on. That fairy tale? Only Grandma still believes that crap. Is that mayo on your mouth? Relax—it's a tree. I'll buy you a forest if you want." Overnight, my hair turned gray. Skin cracked. Eyes dulled. Still, I dragged myself to his grandmother, Henrietta. "I kept your family safe for two hundred years. That's why the Asters thrived. But the Heartwood's gone. Debt's paid. One day left. Whatever happens next? Not my problem."

On the day of the Sacred Forest Rite, my Alpha father and Luna mother were mysteriously murdered. Soon after, my fiancé Jem abruptly broke off our engagement and held a bonding ceremony with his childhood friend, Sarah. While I was still drowning in grief, Jem's elder brother, Nom, came to me with a proposal. He swore he would uncover the truth and bring my parents' murderer to justice. So I married him—and brought what was left of my pack into his. Seven years passed. No killer was found. No justice delivered. Then today, I overheard a conversation between Nom and his Beta outside the study. I learned the truth. Someone had seen Sarah at the scene of my parents' deaths during the Sacred Forest Rite. However, Nom silenced that witness. He shut down the investigation, convinced Sarah was innocent—that her presence was nothing more than a coincidence. However, my mother died with Sarah's earring clenched in her hand. It was never justice. It was a cover-up. Seven years of marriage, built on a lie—his way of protecting the one truly responsible. This time, I will take vengeance into my own hands. Alone.