Mistress Natsumi

I, Anna Moonhowl, believe I am the happiest woman in the world. I am the first love of my Alpha mate, Lucas Greyhound, and he loves me deeply. He is ruthless and cold to others, but in front of me, he always hides away his claws. He places everything he has—his territory, his life, and his future—into my hands. I have complete faith in him. So even when a young Omega who is pregnant suddenly barges into our marking ceremony, I never doubt his love for me. He rejects her in front of the entire pack, claiming it is nothing more than a loss of control when he was in heat. Fervently, he swears that I am his one true love. Lucas promises, "I will deal with the pup and exile her. We will never see each other again." I believe him despite the fact that he never brings up our marking ceremony again. But five years later, I run into that Omega again. "I didn't expect that he would love me even more after I had his pup. Seven times a night is considered little in our books," she boasts. She then hooks her arm around Lucas as they walk toward the witch's treatment chamber, flaunting their relationship. She reminds the witch, "Lucas says being with that old she-wolf is boring, so please make me as tight as a virgin. Once I give him another pup, he will dissolve his current bond and officially mark me. Then, I will be the Luna…" I stand frozen at the doorway while the rest of her words fade into white noise. The years of complete trust in Lucas deal the most devastating blow to my heart. Without hesitation, I turn and leave. I head straight to the Council of Elders to submit a request to dissolve our mate bond. Lucas, this time I will not believe your lies again. I don't want you anymore.

At graduation, I invited my classmates to attend my engagement party, but what I didn’t expect was the total meltdown one of my classmates had when she saw my engagement photos. She strutted over, full of herself, and demanded that I take off my dress so she could use it to polish her shoes. I blinked in confusion, thinking she must have lost her mind. I laughed and suggested she head over to the campus clinic to get checked out. Instead, she exploded, pointing a finger right in my face as she started yelling. “You leech! How dare you wear something so expensive?” she screamed. “You’ve been spending all of my boyfriend’s money on your filthy clothes! Have you no shame? Get down on your knees and apologize, or I guarantee you'll regret it. Who knows where you'll end up tomorrow? Maybe in the hands of some trafficker?” I couldn’t help but laugh. Who would’ve thought that my fiancé, whose tuition fees I paid for, had the nerve to keep a secret mistress behind my back?

My family owned Belgard Estate, a historic wine property that had recently gone viral after serving as the backdrop for a series of advertisements and product livestreams. On one occasion, my butler and I could not even enter the grounds. Influencers crowded the entrance, phones raised, security overwhelmed. My fiancée apologized. "The mayor wanted to borrow the estate, dear. I couldn't tell him no," she said. "Just bear with it for a while, okay? Once the trend dies down, I'll have them all cleared out. Trust me." I trusted her. I never raised the issue again. Some time later, my grandfather prepared to celebrate his 90th birthday. I returned to the estate to retrieve our finest vintage for the occasion, only to find myself nearly crushed by a shrieking crowd packed outside the gates. I slipped away and made my way to the back entrance after someone in the crowd called me a "free-riding bum." Bewildered, I was ready to present proof of ownership when a woman shouted over the noise, "Didn't you hear? Miss LePenn has already announced that Belgard Estate has been given to Jacques Martin! I don't care how big a fan you are of him. You still have to buy a ticket to see him like the rest of us!" I stood there, stunned. Jacques? The first man I had ever allowed to use this estate for a product livestream? It belonged to him now? And since when had Sylvia become the mistress of this place? Since when did she even have a boyfriend? Enough was enough. It was time to bring these people's business with Belgard Estate to an end.

When I turned eighteen, I completed my shift and finally gained my wolf. The Lycan King of the Northern Tribe—Karl Gilmore, my father's close friend—handed me photos of his sons and told me to choose a mate. Whomever I chose would become the next Lycan King. Without hesitation, I pointed to his eldest son, Sven Gilmore. Everyone was stunned because everyone knew, for years, I had always loved the third son, Erik Gilmore. I'd trailed after Erik like a shadow, declaring loudly to the whole world that I'd marry him someday, that I'd be his mate. In my previous life, I did marry Erik. And he did become the next Lycan King. But a year into our marriage, he betrayed me with my stepsister and got her pregnant. Furious, the old Lycan King forced her to abort the pup and exiled her to another pack. From that moment on, Erik despised me. He started bringing home a different mistress every night. I was furious, helpless, and eventually, I died in the dead of winter. I never expected that when I opened my eyes again, I'd be back at eighteen, standing at the very moment I was meant to choose my mate. This time, I won't choose Erik. This time, I'll step aside and let him have his love with my sister. But why did Erik break down in tears when I chose someone else, begging me to come back?

At my engagement party, my cousin drugged herself and tearfully begged me to lend her my fiance for one night, so I sent the Eastons' youngest son, who had always had a thing for her, on her way. When Erin woke up and realized it wasn't my fiance, she killed herself out of shame and despair. My fiance didn't blame me; he treated me as he always had. Ridden with guilt, I took care of Erin's mother after her death. But on my wedding day, my groom turned husband had me drugged and threw me to beggars. "Erin suffered like this back then," he said coldly. "You can atone for her pain with that filthy body of yours." And so, on my wedding night, I was violated to death—with a baby in my belly. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to that night when Erin tearfully begged me to give my fiance to her.

It was about time because my dad got a new girlfriend and said he wanted us to have a meal together to introduce the new woman into our lives. On the day we met, my college roommate saw my chat background, which had a photo of me and my dad, along with a series of transfer records. She lost her mind. She enlisted the support of our other roommates, who rarely paid me any attention and began to attack me, insisting that I was a side chick who deserved to die. I did not expect that my roommate would soon become my stepmom. Before I could explain, she accused me of trying to seduce my dad behind her back, shouting, "Shameless side chick! Going behind my back to seduce my boyfriend! All those times you said you were out studying?! Who knows if you were just meeting up with him?" I was once physically assaulted, stripped of my dignity, and forced to the restaurant for a public confrontation wearing ragged clothes. Then my dad came running to where I was hardly breathing and barely moving on the floor, bruised to the extreme. “Sweetheart, who did this to you?!”

My wife, Sophia Shelby, spent a fortune snatching a kidney donor from my mother, only to save her ex-boyfriend’s life. Meanwhile, my mother had been waiting for three years. Before my mother died, she wanted to see our child. I told her it was gone. Sophia had aborted our child for the sake of her infertile ex-boyfriend, James Carl. She had chosen to go through IVF with him. I had charged into the hospital and confronted Sophia, but James stopped me. “She’s my wife! What gives you the right to keep me from seeing her?!” “She’s pregnant with my child.” I flew into a fit of anger. Barging into the ward, I shouted at Sophia, “I want a divorce!” Inside, Sophia replied to me with irritation, “Divorce it is! Why are you yelling at James?”

Everyone knew—Jessica Conway had always adored Jack Murray. They were high school lovers, and everyone just assumed they would get married eventually and live happily ever after. But then, there was Abby Conway, Jessica's elder sister who was "gravely ill." On the eve of Jessica and Jack's wedding, he said, "Jess, your sister's really really sick. Let's give her a chance to be the bride for now, alright? You know you're the one I love." Abby echoed, "Jess, promise me you'll come to the wedding, okay?" Jessica clutched the stomach cancer diagnosis in her hands and said nothing. On the wedding day, she never showed up. Jack, realizing her absence, abandoned the ceremony and rushed home—only to find the house empty. The only thing left behind was a single sheet of paper: her final diagnosis. For three days and three nights, Jack knelt before Jessica, begging for a second chance. But she never forgave him. Not even in death.

My mom is critically ill. Before she passes away, she wants to see me married. It takes 27 days of pleading before my boyfriend, Kyle Grayson, says yes. I wait at the city hall until the doors close, but he never shows up. That same day, his childhood sweetheart, Ruby Callahan, posts their marriage certificate online. "Time flies. Three days more and we'll be a month in." Only then does it hit me. The very first day I begged, Kyle was already Ruby's husband. Right then, a text from Kyle lights up my phone. "Holly, Ruby's family was pushing her into marriage. I couldn't stand by and watch her marry just anyone and ruin her life. We'll be divorced in three days. I'll marry you then." Three days later, he shows up at the city hall in a suit. But all he gets is a text from me. "Goodbye for good, Kyle."

The wife of a renowned designer thought I was not good enough to be seen with her. So, when the award ceremony came, she brought along her young, handsome secretary, someone who suited her image much better. I did not argue or make a scene. I ignored the secretary's quiet provocations and stayed perfectly calm. My wife, taken aback by how 'sensible' I had become, must have thought I had finally given up on her. For the first time, she did not sneer or mock me. Instead, she spoke gently for once, and told me to stay home and wait for her. She even promised a 'big surprise' for my birthday. I lowered my eyes and nodded, hiding the heaviness inside. She did not know that today, I was walking away for good.