Paradis Attack On Titan

Damian, my destined partner, is the alpha that all wolf girls dream of. For him, I went alone to the North, his pack. But for three years after we signed the contract, he remained chaste, staying at least three feet away from me, refusing to mate with me. I thought he was just busy with the affairs of the wolf pack and had no time to care about me. Until I stumbled upon Damian pinning Lyra, his sister, against a rough tree trunk, his mouth savagely devouring her lips like a wild beast. "You know I long for you, Lyra!" he roared. "Why did you force that boring Selena on me?!" At last I understood. The only person he truly loved was Lyra. He hurt me again and again for Lyra, and even when we were trapped in the forest and almost swallowed by the shadow plague, he ran away with Lyra in his arms without looking back. "Whether Selena can escape or not has nothing to do with me. You are the most important person in my world!" I was heartbroken, but he wanted to complete the final mark with me because of guilt. He didn't know that I had already dripped my heart's blood on the moonstone the day I found out about his affair with Lyra. Our mate bond had been completely broken long ago.

In my last life, I secretly slipped a Love Potion into the cup of my destined mate, the Alpha of my pack, Jason Green. As expected, he fell in love with me. We held the grandest mate-bonding ceremony in our pack's history and became the couple everyone envied. The effects of the Love Potion would last seven years. I naively believed that it would be enough to win his true heart. But Jason's childhood friend, Lilian Foster, traded her own tongue to a black-market witch for the antidote. The moment the truth was exposed, the love in Jason's eyes turned into a hatred that pierced through the bone. He sold me to the black market as a live test subject for experiments and forced me to drink a Corrosive Spellvial. My insides rotted away, and I died from sheer pain. Now, I had regressed in time, once again holding that same bottle of Love Potion. This time, I didn't hesitate. I drank it all in one swift movement. Jason, I wouldn't beg for your love again. I was going to love myself. So… Why are you the one who ended up regretting it?

On Thanksgiving, my husband Steven Mandel showed up with another woman. Not just anyone—Fiona Osborne, his first love. She had Alzheimer's and only remembered him. And yeah, he said she was moving in. Steven's eyes were ice. "Erica, I stayed away from Fiona out of duty. But I'm not wasting what time I have left without her." Happy 50th anniversary to me. No gift—just a slap-in-the-face love confession. Maya, my daughter-in-law, tried to talk some sense into him, bless her. Then Anton—my own son—cut in. "Mom already kept Dad away from Fiona for years. She's tied ME to you for half my life. Now Dad just wants to take care of the woman he loves—what's so wrong with that?" Steven stepped in front of Fiona like some kind of hero. "Anton's right. Erica, I let you play the wife role for decades. Now, I want to be with the woman I truly love. "If you can't handle that, let's just get a divorce." I stood there, frozen. I'd walked away from a powerhouse law career for this family after we had Anton. I thought I had given everything, and in their eyes, I would be a perfect wife and a perfect mother. But today made it clear—I was never enough. No matter how much I gave, it was never going to be enough. I turned to Maya. She was crying. "You wanna get divorced together?"

For eight years, I was the ghost in Lorenzo Valenti's empire. By day, I was his executive assistant, the engine of his criminal enterprise. By night, I was the most submissive bird in his gilded cage, and the nameless body in his bed. I loved him with a devotion that bordered on madness, a foolish flame I'd nurtured since I was a scholarship student pulled into his orbit. I believed my quiet love could one day melt the ice around his heart. I was wrong. The day his unforgettable first love, Isabella, returned, the man I knew vanished. The rare smiles once reserved for me were now all for her. My presence by his side was erased, replaced by hers. Even when she framed me, he believed her without hesitation. He chose her, again and again. I submitted my resignation. He signed it without looking. He thought I'd crawl back, broken and begging. He was wrong. While he was busy playing house with his "cuore mio", I was quietly packing away my life, preparing to vanish from his world forever.

Before the pack's Winter Solstice festival, I was given a Moonwater Mirror, forged from the waters of the Moon Goddess Spring. But the face staring back at me wasn't my own. It was my face, but younger. The girl I was eight years ago. Her eyes were bright with a joy I hadn't felt in years. When she realized I was from her future, she practically vibrated with excitement. "Our fated mate, Alpha Owen, he confessed today! He's going to plant moonflowers around the lake cabin. He'll stay with me for every full moon. He promised to make me his one and only Luna forever!" Her voice was full of hope for the future. Her joy was a bitter reminder of what I'd lost. I listened quietly, only managing a faint smile. My reaction must have given me away. Her excited chatter died. Her gaze drifted over my shoulder, taking in the cold, empty penthouse behind me. "Wait... where's Owen?" Her smile faltered. "We're happy, right? After eight years?" I didn't say a word. I just slowly, deliberately, turned the Moonwater Mirror toward the terrace. There, my Alpha mate, Owen, had another she-wolf pinned to the railing. Their mouths were fused, their breaths mingling in the cold night air.

For our seventh anniversary, my mate, Alpha Ethan, sent my daughter and me to the Moon Goddess Altar. He told me it was a surprise—to give our daughter her dream of watching a meteor shower from the highest peak in the territory. But Ethan never came. The protective runes at my feet sputtered, then died. The ground beneath us began to crumble. My daughter screamed, her small body sliding toward the abyss. I lunged, grabbing her hand just before she went over the edge. I screamed his name through our mind-link. Ninety-nine times, he refused to answer. On my hundredth cry, the link didn't just open—it was ripped wide. It wasn’t his voice that answered. It was his senses, flooding mine. I saw it all. Him. Another she-wolf. And him, buried deep inside of her. "I knew you loved me, Ethan," her sickly-sweet voice purred. "You even sacrificed Marcus, just to save our Leo from the soul-sickness. I'll do anything for you." Ethan’s voice was velvet and ice. "Stop. If Sera hadn't betrayed me, you never would have had the chance to carry my heir. Once I get rid of her other pup—Jullian's bastard—we can be perfect again." My world shattered. My son... Rogues. I'd always believed rogues had stolen him. But it was his own father. He sacrificed him for a lie. With my last ounce of strength, I called Julian. "I'm breaking my bond with Ethan," I snarled into the new link. "Make me your Luna. In return, I will help you burn his pack to the ground."

I was a brilliant artist. But I crushed my right hand saving my mafia husband, Vincent, and my ability to create died with it for three years. Vincent promised he'd make me whole again. Our private doctor swore he was doing everything he could. But my hand remained numb, useless. Then, one day, I overheard a conversation that shattered my world. "Make sure she can never create again," Vincent told the doctor. "I can't have Isabella threatening Sophia's place in the art world!" "But, Mr. Torrino, another procedure might... she could lose the hand for good." "I don't care what happens to her! Sophia saved my life. I will not let her down!" It turned out my husband was the one who had destroyed me. And the assassin, Sophia, was the woman he truly loved. He let her claim my designs, turning her into the art world’s new darling while I was trapped in a broken body. When I confronted him, pregnant with our child, he slapped me in public and told the world I was losing my mind. That night, I burned everything that bound me to him. Then I dialed an encrypted number I hadn't used in what felt like a lifetime. "Grandpa. In three days, I need to disappear."

Three years ago, my father marries me off to Evan Blackwell, the CEO of Blackwell Group, for the family's interests. Everyone thinks I'm done for because Evan is known for being ruthless and cruel. Yet, he's nothing but gentle to me, and he never raises his voice at me. He even has my initials, SH, tattooed on his chest. Every year on our anniversary, fireworks bloom across the city right on the dot. They spell out my name and the loving words he dedicates to me. On our third anniversary, the fireworks suddenly replace my name, Selena Holloway, with Serena Harroway. Before I can ask about it, Evan immediately calls his subordinates and tears into them. "What's going on? How could you mess up my wife's name? Do you want to lose your jobs?" I hastily tell him it's fine and that the thought is what truly matters. In the end, he lets them off the hook. However, he pushes me until my legs are shaking and my voice is gone that night. When I wake from the night that leaves my whole body humming, he's already seated at his desk and buried in work. He asks me to grab a folder for him, yet I open the wrong drawer and stumble upon an old photo album. It contains intimate photos of him and a young woman who looks strikingly like me. There's a confession on the back of every single picture. "I miss you so much, Serena."

After Stefan Grimaldi's first love died, he hated me for five years. I did everything I could to please him, but he never softened. The only thing he ever said was, "If you really want to make me happy, go die. Go keep Sienna company in her grave." It cut deep every time. I told myself it would always be this way, that he would carry that hatred until one of us was gone. I was wrong. When assassins came for us, Stefan stepped in front of the bullet without hesitation. He went down in my arms. With the little breath he had left, he looked up at me and said, "Annie, if there's a next life, I hope I never meet you again." At his funeral, his father stood over the casket, barely holding himself together. "Stefan, I was wrong. I never should have forced you to marry Annie. If I had listened to you back then and let you marry Sienna, none of this would have happened," he said. His mother turned on me, tears streaming, her eyes filled with blame. "This is all your fault. Every time, Stefan ended up in danger because of you. What have you ever given him besides disaster?" I kept my head down and said nothing. They were not the only ones with regrets. I regretted marrying Stefan too. On the night of the full moon, I climbed to the top of the church tower and jumped. I woke five years in the past. This time, I was done.

Ever since we were kids, I'd always known how to make use of my gentle childhood friend for things like sending him on errands, and borrowing his allowance. He never complained. Just silently indulged me. Things continued the same way until the day we got engaged. That's when everything snapped into place. That was the day we both woke up. I was just a throwaway character in a novel. He was the male lead—fated to fall in love and end up with the novel's heroine. I was stunned. Ready to walk away. But he was furious. Jaw clenched, eyes wild. He grabbed my hand and dragged me straight to City Hall. "Screw the novel. Screw the plot. The only thing I know is that I love you, and I want forever with you." After we got married, he treated me like I was made of glass. Gentle. Meticulous. We worked side by side, building a reputation as a power couple in the business world. The events of the novel faded into the background. I fell deeper in love with him. Three years later, the youngest daughter of a real estate tycoon started her internship at our company. That day, there was a fire in the office. In the chaos, the girl stumbled into a shelving unit. It came crashing down, headed straight for my husband. I didn't hesitate. I threw myself in front of him. Pain exploded in my skull. Blood poured down my face. The girl, in her panic, had fallen to the ground, crying out, "Aaron, help me!" My husband's face went pale. His expression—pure terror—as he ran toward her without a second thought. "Grace!" he cried. Lightning split through me. My face drained of color. The heroine in the novel—her name was Grace.