Plot Twists

"I'm a lecturer… You can't do this to me…" Kieran Walsh drops by to ask me a couple of biology-related questions. He insists on making me demonstrate the answer in person. When he grinds against me with that rock-hard and powerful body of his, I can barely withstand the pleasure. "You've never felt such intense pleasure before, have you?" I feel Kieran pinning me on the desk, my legs already parting on their own unconsciously. As for the remaining biology-related questions that he still fails to understand, maybe using my body to teach him isn't a bad idea.

The day I recovered from my mental illness and got discharged, my parents held me in their arms with tears of happiness. My sister gave me a teddy bear and said she had been waiting for me to come home. I comforted my parents who were crying and accepted the gift from my sister. I slowly got used to ordinary life and became the real daughter of the Schmidt family. To show their preference for me, my parents transferred the family business into my name on my sister’s 18th birthday. But I cruelly murdered the family of three who cherished me on this day.

I am Alpha Liam’s fated mate. But at his Alpha ceremony, he publicly chose a low-ranking Omega to accompany him on his trials. His eyes were cold as he told me, “Chloe is a skilled negotiator. She can help me forge alliances with other packs. Even as my fated mate, you can’t compare.” What he didn’t know was that I was a trained negotiator, too. And just like that, everyone knew I had been rejected by my own fated mate. Four years later, Liam returned with a pregnant Chloe in tow. Seeing me in the manor, his gaze was strained and complex. “I can’t believe you waited for me for four years… but Chloe is already carrying my child.” “To make it up to you,” he said, “you can remain by my side and care for my heir.” But he had no idea that I had already married his uncle, the Alpha King, and become the Luna Queen, the most revered wolf in the world.

On my thirtieth birthday, Gideon Salton told me to meet him at city hall. He made sure I wore a wedding dress and brought my papers, hyping it up as a huge birthday surprise. But when I showed up, all dressed up, he turned to his trashy crew and laughed. "No way—she actually did it. Dress, docs, the whole thing. Pay up, fifty bucks each." Then he looked at me. "Come on, Madison. You didn't seriously fall for that?" I didn't answer. He smirked. "If you're that thirsty to get hitched, go inside and grab some rando to register with." His friends cracked up. They called me Gideon's loyal simp, his forever backup plan. Said I'd never end up with anyone else. But when I came out with my husband and a legit marriage certificate, Gideon just froze—pale, silent, wrecked.

On my way to a meeting at work, I call my daughter, who is at home. Instead, I hear a voice identical to mine over the phone. She claims that she is me three years in the future. "Dezarae, go home to Liv right now. Your daughter is in danger." I am stunned. I argue in disbelief and question who is behind this prank. When I step on the accelerator, she stops me sternly. "Do not drive ahead any further. There will be a traffic accident at the intersection where Peace Street is." In the next second, at the intersection that is less than 30 feet away from me, two cars collide. Cold sweat starts to trickle down my back when the woman with a voice identical to mine says, "Liv will fall off a building and die in three hours. This is your only chance to save her."

After I turn five years of age and have my very own phone, I start receiving strange messages every single day. For some reason, the sender keeps referring to me as their mom. At 3:00 am, they send me another message. "Mom, I saw you in my dreams again. The rain is seeping into the attic. My stepmom told me to use a rag to soak up all the water, but the rag is too small. Even though I tried to wipe it up all night, it still wouldn't dry. Mom, I'm so cold and hungry. I miss you so much…" I tilt my head, looking at the rain pouring outside the window. I then earnestly reply, "Don't be scared, sweetheart. Where are you right now? I will bring you something yummy!"

Scarlet blood trickled from my thigh as I clutched Arvin Owen's hand. "My belly... It hurts so much..." He shook off my hand indifferently. "Come on, I know it's chicken blood you are using. Debby just suffered abuse from her husband and is now in the hospital without anyone to care for her. Don't be so spoiled!" But what flowed from me was not chicken blood. It was my life slipping away.

When the babies in my womb were about five months old, I suddenly heard my daughter's voice in my head. "Mommy, Bella is trying to get rid of me. She's grabbing my umbilical cord with her hands. It hurts so much…" Believing Ava, I forced myself to eat nonstop and take every supplement I could. I even asked the doctor whether there was any medicine that could suppress Bella's growth. When I was in labor, the fetuses were too large. I lost so much blood and only delivered Ava before I died. Bella died in me as well. Right before my consciousness faded, I saw the newly born Ava looking at me with a wicked smile. "You idiot. You believed everything I said. Your luck, Bella's luck, and even Daddy's luck. I'll gladly take them all." Only then did I realize that Ava, whom I fought so hard to give birth to, was a monster. When I opened my eyes again, it was back to the very first day I heard Ava's voice in my head.

When I first started at Serenity Hills, the head nurse told me coma patients paid well—but the job was messy and brutal. They could only get IV nutrition. Screw that up, and you're basically killing them. Today was day thirty of looking after the girl. Young. Gorgeous. Like always, I hit the nurse's station to grab her IV bags— But then I saw it. Thirty glucose bottles gone. IV nutrition? Still sealed. Chills shot down my spine.

Lately, buying succubi and incubi online had become all the rage. I could not afford one, so I picked one up from the side of the road instead. It turned out the quality of this incubus left a lot to be desired. Not only did he have a terrible temper, but he showed absolutely no interest in me. He would rather starve than "feed". Left with no other options, I snapped a photo of his incubus mark and sent it to the shop owner, asking how to handle this particular model. The shop owner completely lost it. "Oh my god, please tell me you're joking! That's not an incubus! That's a demon! The most dangerous kind!"