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The ninth bonding ceremony between me and the Alpha King, Thorne Ravencrest, is finally here. Yet once again, I failed to become his Luna Queen. Not because he broke his promise, but because I'm not qualified enough. The Elders made it crystal clear that every Luna Queen recognized by the Moon Goddess throughout history must cultivate 365 Moonlight Flowers using their own blood essence. But every year on the eve of the ceremony, no matter how careful I am, there's always one flower missing. This year, I nearly drained myself completely and barely managed to grow the right number. Ecstatic, I go to find Thorne, wanting to surprise him. Through the partially open door of the throne hall, I hear his Beta say to him, "Alpha King, Sera's been waiting for you for eight years now. Are you ever going to bond with her?" Thorne shakes his head. "I promised Willow we can't bond this year either." His Beta hesitates. "What if Sera actually manages to grow enough Moonlight Flowers?" Thorne goes silent for a moment, then claps his hands. A shadow wolf appears and melts into the darkness. Before long, a shadow wolf returns with a Moonlight Flower clamped in its jaws. He tears the flower into shreds and lets out a sigh. "Sera has plenty of blood. Forget one year. She could keep cultivating for another ten years and still be fine. "But Willow's been poisoned with wolfsbane. I'm all she has left, and she wants me by her side in her final days. "I can't bear to refuse Willow, which means Sera will just have to wait a bit longer." I bite my lip hard, barely able to believe what I'm hearing. So the Moonlight Flowers that kept mysteriously disappearing were all destroyed by him. Becoming Luna Queen has been my dream since childhood. But if he never intended to bond with me at all, then it's time I leave him.

On the night of our engagement banquet, Mandy Sutton's boyfriend, Lenard Johnson, sends my fiancee, Sarah Lindt, a video clip of him jerking off. It also comes with a text message. "Using my hand doesn't feel good at all. I miss your tight little mouth." I want to call that jerk on the spot and cuss him out. But Sarah, who has flown into a state of panic, quickly stops me out of anger. "Are you dumb? It's obvious that Lenard has sent all of these things to the wrong person! He's my best friend's boyfriend, for crying out loud! There's nothing going on between us! Must you be so paranoid, Jonathan? "You're the one that's oozing negativity and dark thoughts, so stop assuming that everyone else is the same as you! Put that jealousy of yours away and stop embarrassing me already!" To think that Sarah is actually accusing me of being jealous and paranoid when she's the one who has cheated on me behind my back! I merely chuckle coldly before forwarding the video clip to our mutual college group chat. At the same time, I've withdrawn my sponsorship from Sarah's company. I'm quite curious, though. Without the support of a jealous, embarrassing man who has zero confidence like me, just how long can Sarah maintain her image as a strong and independent businesswoman?

In a drought-ravaged apocalypse, I kept our entire apartment block alive with my “watermaker” ability. But when I grew weak, my neighbors shattered my limbs and turned me into a living water source. Later, when raiders stormed in, they dragged me out to take the blade for them, only to realize that even my severed arms could still produce water. So, they shouted about “saving humanity,” then shoved me into the crowd and fled in the chaos. People rushed forward one after another, tearing at my flesh. But I didn’t die. What was left of me fell into the hands of a monster, and I was subjected to inhuman torment day after day. Ten years later, when the apocalypse finally ended, that monster tossed me into an incinerator. Only then did I die. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the moment I first awakened my ability, just as my neighbor knocked on the door, begging for water.

"Abby Davison only wants to focus on her career as a nurse, as she has no time for dating after a bad breakup over a year ago. When her mother presses her about settling down, Abby tells her a little white lie: she’s dating Mark Thornton, the handsome and gruff rancher who both frustrates and makes her heart flutter every time they meet. When Mark overhears Abby's lie, he decides to cut her a deal: to keep his silence regarding their make-believe relationship, she'll come to live with him on his ranch until his broken arm heals. Despite her wounded pride and initial trepidation, Abby can’t help but begin to fall for the guarded Thornton brother as the days pass on his ranch. The black sheep of the family, Mark makes no secret that he prefers horses over people. His brusque exterior, though, only conceals hidden depths and a wounded heart that Abby understands all too clearly. As feelings start to bloom between them, neither is sure what is real and what’s make-believe. Yet the sizzling attraction between them is anything but fake, and with every kiss and every touch, they fall harder for each other. But as their pasts begin to creep toward them, unearthing secrets both would rather keep buried, Abby and Mark must learn to trust each other—or risk losing the love both never knew they needed."

For five years, Gideon—my brother's Beta—and I had a secret. We were supposed to announce our mating at the pack's Winter Solstice festival. Instead, he breathed hot against my ear. "Babe, we've been sleeping together for five years. I'm bored with you. Find someone else for the marking ceremony, alright?" I didn't cry. I just gave a calm, simple nod. "Alright." Only because in my last life, I had begged him through tears to complete the bond. After he finally marked me, he grew cold. He never again woke me by rubbing his stubbled chin against my forehead. Even when we made love, he kept his eyes shut, as if he were with someone else, just using my body. When I was in agony giving birth to our pup, fighting for my life, he left me. He was going to comfort his savior, Aveline. The old wound she suffered saving him had relapsed, sending her into a mental spiral. In that moment, I finally understood. A mark I had to beg for was nothing but a curse, a wound that would never heal. This time, I pulled away with a smile, removing his hand from my waist. "You're right. I'm tired of it, too. We're done."

In my previous life, after I got divorced from Serena Langston, the court had given me custody of my newborn daughter, Talia Poole. Meanwhile, my son, Lucas Poole, was to live with Serena. Many years later, Talia got into a top prestigious university. I had raised her to be a humble and polite young lady. On the day the SAT scores were released, the mass media fought with each other just to get an inclusive interview on how I raised and parented Talia. Meanwhile, Lucas had already dropped out of school when he was still a junior at high school. After that, he eloped with a delinquent, only to impregnate her before he even hit 16 of age. Just like that, he was treated as the living educational material of what a teenager shouldn't become when they grew up. At the age of 30, he was still mooching off Serena without an achievement or a job under his belt. Serena's dream of watching Lucas succeed in life was completely shattered. In fact, she was utterly humiliated by his existence. On the day Talia's celebratory banquet was held, Serena showed up and picked a fight with me. She insisted that I had given Lucas all of our bad DNA, which resulted in him being a massive failure in life. During the fight, Serena stabbed me in the chest. Then, she jumped off the building and died. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day the court will be giving us custody over our children. This time, Serena quickly requests the judge for Talia's custody. I can tell right away that she's been reborn as well.

Mirabel Cole was violated by her stepfather and her boss. Later when she thought she had found love, he was not patient enough to wait for her to be ready but raped her as well. Thinking that that is the way of the world, she sets out to get her revenge on all men. She used her beauty and skill to deal with men leaving alot of heartbreaks and corpses in her wake. Who would blame her indeed, she was made into what she is by the society.

Five years later, Stella was released from prison—only to face the brutal vengeance of Joseph, the new Alpha. Convinced she had caused his father’s death, he tormented her mercilessly. Yet he never imagined the truth: the accident five years ago had been his father’s doing, and Stella had been innocent all along. Now, as Joseph realizes he’s fallen in love with her, where does that leave him?

My best friend wanted to adopt an injured kitten. Seeing the cat’s unusual appearance, I suddenly recalled a state-protected animal called the manul. Its young resembled cats but were exceptionally ferocious. So, I advised her against keeping it. But my friend would not listen to me and brought it back to our rental apartment. Unexpectedly, the manul seemed to understand human emotions and harbored a grudge against me. Five years later, it suddenly burst into my home and killed my entire family. I lunged to kill it, only to have my throat torn. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my best friend adopted the manul. This time, I did not stop her from taking it in.

My husband, Chandler Goodwin, claims that he doesn't understand what the phrases "silent treatment" or "giving the cold shoulder" mean. Yet, in the three years we have been married, he has never once spoken to me sweetly. The first time we have a falling out, I remain proud and dignified. We end up ignoring each other for seven days straight. The seventh time we have a cold standoff, I start to panic a little. However, despite trying all sorts of methods, he doesn't back down. The 11th time it happens, I have already learned to work through my emotions myself. Chandler doesn't even need to say anything before I take the initiative to apologize first. I simply think that he's just a naturally indifferent person, that nobody can warm his stone-cold heart. Then, on the third year of our marriage, I accidentally ruin his dress shirt while ironing it. Chandler doesn't say a word, but that very night, he packs his things and moves into a hotel. On the third day of being blocked, I head to his company with a handwritten apology. While passing by his office, I spot him leaning over to shoot his angry assistant a doting smile. "I'm sorry for raising my voice at you just now and upsetting you. It's been 57 minutes since you started ignoring me. Please stop giving me the cold shoulder, alright?" I freeze on the spot, the apology letter in my hand practically burning my fingers. As it turns out, it's not that he doesn't know what the silent treatment means—it's just that I've never been the person he wants to coax.