My Wife I Think I'll Keep Her

After I get reborn, I've returned to the moment my mother wants me to pick out my future mate. This time, I don't choose anyone at all. Instead, I've decided to travel to the rural mountain area as a healer. In my previous life, the Alphas of the packs based in the northern meadow and the western coast had requested to form a marriage alliance with me to my mother. Similarly, I had feelings for both of them. But while I was conflicted as to which Alpha I had to choose, I happened to stumble upon them going into their rut earlier than expected due to them being drugged. The Alphas pinned me down on the bed. That was how I ended up spending the night with them. But it was precisely that night that left me with pup. Since we had no idea whose pup I was with, my parents decided to let me take both Alphas in as my mates for the sake of my pack's reputation. But on the day our mating ceremony was set to begin, the Alphas' first love, Julia Cooper, left her pack out of anger when she found out about their mating ceremony with me. Unexpectedly, the pack that Julia had gone to was invaded by another pack. She was exiled from the pack as a Rogue, only to get tormented by other Rogues till she drew her last breath. After her death, both Alphas laced my food with wolfsbane, which led to my death. On the second before I lost my consciousness, I heard their furious voices. "You have no right to be living a good life when Julia has died a terrible death!" When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day both Alphas have gone into rut.

On the day of my bonding ceremony with Vincent Sawyer, the future Alpha, the moonstone ring meant for me, the future Luna, has mysteriously disappeared from the ringbox. In its place sits a can tab that has already gone black from oxidation. The guests' cheers die down immediately. They all turn to look at me after that. Amid the silence, Vincent's childhood sweetheart, Sharon Anderson, walks out from the crowd. She raises her left hand and waves, the moonstone ring perched on her ring finger. Then, she pulls out a matching ring before sliding it onto Vincent's finger. "You must be scared out of your wits, huh, Angelica? I'm actually wearing the ring right now. This can tab is no ordinary item, you know. Vincent had given it to me when we were still pups. It resembles everlasting love that will never fade away. Now, I'm giving it to you." Sharon's words strike me right in my heart. I tremble violently, feeling as if my heart is being cut into a million pieces. However, Vincent just chuckles. "Sharon always comes up with silly ideas. She's just joking around, Angelica. Don't take her actions to heart." "Oh, I won't." I toss the can tab into the bonfire, a dry chuckle escaping from my lips. "This bonding ceremony is canceled." Vincent grabs my hand before pulling me into his arms. "Stop messing around, Angelica! We found the ring, didn't we? This bonding alliance will affect the future of our packs! You're not the one calling the shots here!" I squirm out of Vincent's grasp, catching a trace of sickly sweet scent lingering around him—one that isn’t mine at all. "While it's true that the Moonlake pack is going to form a bonding alliance with the Brownstone pack, my future mate isn't necessarily you."

I find myself losing my mind when I learn that my wife, Meredith Snow, is flirting with her professor. I rush to her school, wanting to cause a scene. My father-in-law, Liam Snow, tells me that it's my fault for not being able to keep Meredith in check. Matthew Snow, my brother-in-law, says that I deserve all that is happening to me. I tell Meredith I want a divorce, but she uses our son, Elias Fairfield, to threaten me. I have no choice but to endure her despicable behavior for Elias' sake. I never thought that I would have to endure it for the rest of my life. Meredith lives a fantastic life while I wait on her hand and foot. She's eventually promoted to the position of professor and is guaranteed a comfortable life. As for me, I work hard all my life only for Elias to call me a loser. I end up dying alone on my sickbed in a rented house. Taking pity on me, God gives me another chance. He sends me back in time to the day I asked for a divorce.

My daughter Mia's congenital heart condition had worsened. She desperately needed the one-of-a-kind miniature artificial heart I'd spent five years developing. The night before surgery, my wife Victoria stole it from the cold storage unit. I rushed to the hospital like a madman, only to find her at the bedside of her first love Dominic Forsythe's son, prepping him for surgery. "Mia can hold on for another six months. Dominic's son can't wait." "What kind of father are you, being this selfish?" Victoria stood there, righteous indignation written all over her face. I looked at my daughter lying in her hospital bed, barely clinging to life, and dialed the overseas number I'd refused a dozen times before. "Professor Ellsworth, this is Nathan Hartley." "I'll accept your offer. But I need you to arrange a medical transport—immediately—to bring my daughter to your facility. Her heart needs emergency intervention." I spent five years developing a life-saving heart for my daughter. Victoria stole it overnight and gave it to Dominic Forsythe’s son. “Mia can hold on for another six months. Dominic's son can't wait.” She had no idea I held all the core patents for that heart. That same night, I took my daughter aboard a medical jet and fled the country. The next time we met, you would be on your knees begging me.

At my graduation ceremony, I finally gathered the courage to confess my feelings to my longtime crush. But before I could, I was hit by a car. When I opened my eyes again, he was standing right in front of me with a frigid glare. "You're awake? Perfect. Then let's discuss our divorce." I blinked at him, completely dazed. Divorce? Wait—what? I hadn't even confessed yet. How on earth had this turned into a divorce?

On the tenth day of my postpartum recovery, my husband, Deputy Commander Harvey Wyatt, uploads a photo of me breastfeeding my newborn in a disheveled state to the department's group chat. Obviously, that photo was taken without my knowledge. "See? After having a kid, she's as loose as a sack. It makes me sick just looking at her. I much prefer my side piece, who's nice and tight." A few female colleagues send sweating emojis to the group. The majority of the chat, however, consists of the male colleagues' perverse silence. While I continue to burp my baby with one hand, my tears land on the screen. In order to give birth to this baby, my pelvic bone was sawn in half, which causes me so much pain that I can't even walk properly. But all I get in return is my own husband body-shaming me in front of hundreds of people. I don't bother arguing with Harvey at all. Half an hour later, I drag my broken body all the way to the commander's office with a divorce agreement as well as the chat history over the past ten days, which has been printed out, in my hands.

My wife, Wendy, faked her death and took her younger sister’s identity, and I pretended not to know. I removed her from the position of general manager at the company and went to the police station to cancel her identity registration. In my past life, Wendy’s younger sister, Stacy, died in a car accident. Wendy chose to live as her, only because she could not bear to let Eric, her sister’s husband, become a widower. I confronted Wendy and demanded to know why she was impersonating her sister, but she refused to admit anything. “I understand that losing Wendy hurts, but you cannot treat me as if I’m her just because she is gone.” After that, Wendy spread rumors everywhere, saying I had lost my mind. She claimed that my wife had just died and I was already harboring improper thoughts toward her younger sister. In a short time, I suffered an unprecedented wave of online harassment. In the end, an overzealous netizen stabbed me to death in an alley. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day Wendy was preparing to take her sister’s identity.

I was given a second chance on the day my mate chose another she-wolf over me. In my last life, I fought to keep him. I begged, argued, and stood in his way, only to watch him blame me for everything he lost. On the day of our bonding ceremony, he made me pay for loving him. This time, I didn’t cry. I didn’t beg. When he wanted to take her to the Frost Territory, I packed his bag myself. When she smiled behind his back and called me replaceable, I let her. If he loved her so much, I would step aside. But the day he finally realized I was no longer waiting at the altar, I had already walked into another ceremony, in another pack, beside a man who had never once made me feel second best. My old mate thought I was teaching him a lesson. He was wrong. I was setting myself free.

My wolf went insane after I watched my parents take their own lives right before my eyes. My childhood protector, Alexander, had to hold me every night. The only thing that can soothe my wolf is Alexander's Alpha scent. Later, Sophie, the Beta he cherished, took her own life, leaping from a bridge into the sea. Everyone thought I had pushed Sophie into the sea, so that I could have Alexander all to myself. The warmth Alexander once had for me was gone, replaced by an endless, desolate disappointment. He kept whispering, "Why... did it have to be this way?" But when a vampire’s lethal curse came for me, he still drained his Alpha strength to take the fatal blow. As he lay dying, he used his last ounce of strength to wipe a tear from my cheek. "It was my fault… I spoiled you, Elena. I never should have… brought you into my pack." Alexander's parents, the former Alpha and Luna, called me a cursed Omega. They said I was a calamity, that I was the one who destroyed their proud, noble Alpha son. Consumed by regret, I went to the altar of the Moon Goddess and offered my soul. I begged for a second chance, even if it cost me my soul's eternal peace. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day Alexander discovered my sick obsession with him—my desperate need to claim him as my mate. This time, I would crush every delusional fantasy. My only wish was for him to find his true mate and live a long, powerful, peaceful life. As for me… my life was a price I was willing to pay.

At the awards for the Global Jewelry Design Competition, my stepsister Sandra took the grand prize. She used the designs she stole from me. What she didn’t know was the show’s biggest sponsor: Jude Moretti. Godfather of the Moretti family. A bloodthirsty monster scarred in an explosion, a man they say can never have children. And the grand prize? Becoming the Godfather’s bride. That night, Moretti’s men, all in black, delivered a gold-trimmed marriage contract. They were here for the “genius designer.” My fiancé, Marco, panicked. He whisked Sandra off to Vegas to save her. They got married that night. With the deed done, Sandra strutted back in, wearing my silk robe. She flashed the ring on her finger and the hickies all over her neck. “Marco’s mine now,” she purred. “What are you going to do, Odessa? The Godfather’s only giving you a day. If you don’t marry him, the Family will have to appease him. That means sending you to the red-light district. Selling you to the kind of sicko who gets off on broken things.” She was wrong. I had another choice. I found my father and stepmother, both scrambling to deal with the contract. “I’ll do it,” I said. “I’ll marry the Godfather.”