Mikey Death

My father suffered from serious manic depression. When I was eight, my house was robbed and my mother was killed. I became blind while shielding my father from being stabbed. I became the only solace for my father after that. Anyone who hurt me would suffer my father's wrath. When my classmate made fun of me for being blind, her thermos suddenly exploded a few days later and she was blinded. When the class bully targeted me, he was found lying in an alley the next day. Something had dropped on him from a high building that broke his limbs. Not long after, my father achieved great success in his career. He was known for being a sharp businessman. I continued to be the most important person to him. Whoever dared touch a hair on me was as good as dead. I was lucky that a top medical research center overseas successfully came up with a treatment to restore my eyesight. On the day they removed my bandages, I received my father's wedding invitation. [Rina, I found you a new mother. We'll both dote on you when you come home.] My father told me how gentle and kind my new mother was and how much he looked forward to us meeting each other. I was touched and specially prepared a present for her. However, she instructed her bodyguards to abduct me and bring me to an abandoned factory. "Of all the things to learn in life, how dare a young girl like you learn to seduce another woman's husband? How shameless! How dare you steal something that belonged to my husband's late wife? I'll skin you alive!" My present was flung to the ground and destroyed. She ordered her bodyguards to force themselves on me and broke my bones. She skinned me alive and put plaster all over me to turn me into a statue. She then put me into an exquisite gift box to give to my father as a surprise. "Sweetheart, this is the vixen you've kept hidden from me. I turned her into an angel statue. You can see her every night if you put her in your bedroom. You won't need to sneak out to see her.

The adopted younger sister claimed to be suffering from depression. To make her feel better, my parents hung me on the cliff, as if I were a kite. Servant reminded my parents that the little tree to which I was hung was fragile, leaving me in danger. My mom, Luna of the pack, replied scoffingly: "She makes Laurel sleep panic. She deserves to be treated like this. If she dies, it's her fate." My older brother, Zayn, joked by her side, saying: "It's a good chance to record how long werewolves live when they do not conduct feeding activities. We can contribute a lot to the Werewolf Council with this precious data." Even my mate, Greyson, showed an attitude of stoniness, uttering: "She is a vicious she-wolf. If she were not educated well enough before her transformation ritual, she would cause greater trouble to others." They left me alone on the cliff after saying these words. Three days later, it finally crossed their minds that I was still hanging. When they finally arrived at the cliff, they found nothing but emptiness—because I had already died long before. And when they realized the truth, they howled in agony, begging for me to come back to life. But I was long gone.

My parents have always been biased against me, even as a child. They leave me in the countryside while raising my brother themselves. When I'm finally brought to live with them, they neglect me because they don't want my brother to be upset. When my brother says that I'm rude and falsely accuses me of getting people to assault him, my parents believe him without a shadow of doubt. And so, I'm sent to a residential treatment center. Under my parents' tacit permission and my brother's persuasion, the teachers at the center "educate" me inhumanely. In the end, I learn my lesson, as everyone wishes. I die while learning it, too.

My husband secretly swapped the transplant recipient, giving the kidney that was meant for our daughter to the daughter of the woman he had always loved. Not long after, our daughter's condition worsened. The doctors tried to save her, but it was no use. She didn't make it. At the same time, the other girl's surgery was a success. My husband was so overjoyed that he handed out little gifts to the entire hospital in celebration. Rage and grief overwhelmed me, and I collapsed. When I came to, the doctors told me I had cancer. Late-stage. My time was running out. With nothing left to hold on to, I walked out of the hospital, clutching the urn that held my daughter's ashes. In the cold, empty house, I sat alone and drafted the divorce papers.

I was Claire Vitale, the lost daughter they forgot, the bride my lover betrayed—and the dying girl they failed to notice. For five long years, I lived like a stranger in my own home. The Vitale mansion was a beautiful prison, where every kind word hid a lie, every promise was false, and even Lawrence, the man I was supposed to marry, cared more for Vanessa than for me. None of them saw how my body weakened each day, how the pain grew sharper. They were too busy watching their precious Vanessa. Vanessa—the perfect adopted daughter, was the girl my parents loved more than me. She came into our family when I was lost, and when I returned, I found my place already taken—by her. Just as the illness was quietly taking my future. Now she was gone, and they all pointed fingers at me, convinced I was behind her disappearance. The machine they strapped to my head would pull memories straight from my mind. "Where is she?" my father roared. My mother sobbed in the corner. Lawrence, my fiancé, stood silent—his accusing eyes louder than any shout. But I knew the truth would shock them—how Vanessa hurt me, how she faked accidents, how she made sure no one ever believed me. The machine would show them everything. As the machine began its work, I trembled—from fear and exhaustion. After all these years of being unheard, would they finally see?

Seven years ago, I ignored my girlfriend's heart-wrenching pleas and ruthlessly severed our relationship. Now, after seven long years, she had risen to the top—and she was back, ready for her wedding. She didn't come home for mere celebration, though. She came for revenge. She obliterated the company my father had spent his entire life building and did not stop until she shattered his leg, forcing him to endure unimaginable pain. It was all so I'd be forced to go to her wedding and beg for forgiveness. But that wasn't enough. She wanted more. She hissed, brandishing a blade, "If Matthew's not here in ten minutes, I'll slice off a finger for every minute he's late." My autistic brother's fingers, the only way he could create art, became a bargaining chip in her sadistic game. Dad's anguished cries filled the air as he pleaded for mercy, but she was not done. She wanted to tear my family apart piece by piece. My mom, fragile and trapped in the haze of Alzheimer's, was next. Her mind, already slipping, crumbled under the relentless torment. She cracked, completely lost to the madness. With tears streaming down his face, Dad said, "My son died the day you left for abroad."

My husband, who's a negotiation expert, allows his intern to recklessly anger some criminals. It causes me, the hostage, to suffer severe injuries in the explosion, and my right leg breaks because of it. Yet, my husband once again issues a letter of forgiveness for her. "My wife, as a reporter, ignored warnings and forced contact with the criminals to get the scoop. The main responsibility lies with her. Kimberly, being a newcomer, should not bear major fault." I don't cry or make a scene. I simply pull out a divorce agreement. However, he sneers at me. "I know you're just jealous and want me to comfort you, but don't cross the line." For the past three years, I've brought up the topic of divorce 47 times, and each time, he treats it like I'm just throwing a tantrum. But it's different this time. His name has already been signed on this divorce agreement. As long as I add my signature to it, it will take effect immediately.

On the fateful day my asthma struck, Lucas was with his first love, Ariana, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing on the horizon.  He clutched my life-saving medicine, a lifeline that would soon slip through his fingers.  As I lay trapped in the shadows, I witnessed his desperation, his frantic calls echoing in the void when he discovered the shocking news of my pregnancy.  In that moment, everything changed. From that day forward, he became the guardian at my grave, a silent testament to a love that transcended even death.

The day Alpha Marcus and I marked each other, his first love, Cecilia, threw herself off a cliff into a ravine overgrown with wolfsbane. The pack searched for three full days and nights before they found her, barely clinging to life. She was once the most spirited she-wolf in our pack, but the fall cost her a leg and the ability to bear pups. I grieved for the beautiful life that had been ruined, and I blamed myself for not seeing how fragile she'd become. Marcus comforted me gently. "Elena, this wasn't your fault. Cecilia made her own choice. You did everything you could. Don't beat yourself up." Later, not long after our pup, Rylan, turned five, a sudden illness tore through him, and he died in my arms. Night after night, Marcus held me, wiping away my tears. "Don't be sad, Elena," he would murmur. "We'll have other children." I had always believed my mate was the most considerate, most protective Alpha in the entire world. Until the day I overheard him speaking with his Beta, Adrin. "Alpha, the dosage of wolfsbane we gave Rylan was perfect—just as you ordered. It looked like a genetic defect. No one will ever suspect." "It's been so long. Don't you think it's time to forgive the Luna?" "What's one pup compared to what Cecilia lost? She lost a leg, her future as a mother. Everything."

Karen was once obsessed with tribal witch Lyra, who falsely accused me of stealing the Moon Soul Flower, claiming I cursed her spirit sight. My destined mate, Alpha Karen, whipped me before the Moon Goddess statue and banished me to the frozen Cliff of Sinful Wolves. When I returned, I became tame, hiding all my wolf nature in front of him, becoming just a gentle shadow. But when he discovered the truth about what happened at the Cliff in my blood-stained wolf tooth talisman, he went crazy. "Elara, please, answer my mate's call one more time!"