Rebirth

An accident occurred during my graduation trip, causing me to get my left leg amputated. Surprisingly enough, Britney Lambert, the campus belle whom I had a crush on, proposed to me afterward. We were married for the next 30 years. Throughout our marriage, we respected and concerned each other properly. Before I passed away, I found out that all 199 love letters that I had written were thrown into the trash pile. Meanwhile, Britney kept the love letters another person had sent her in a safe. Obviously, she treated those letters like her most cherished treasure. When my illness took a turn for the worse, I could only lie on my sickbed with one foot in my grave. Britney arrived at my ward later than usual. Before I closed my eyes, I heard the final words she uttered to me. "Next time, don't save me anymore." I finally understood her real feelings for me. She'd rather die than be with me, it seemed. When I wake up again, I've returned to the timeframe before the graduation trip starts. This time, I decide not to have anything to do with Britney. We shall be strangers in this lifetime. But when the accident occurs once again, Britney is the one rushing toward me. "It's my turn to save you now."

Bertha Cobb's first love, Owen Rountree, made a mistake during his experiment, leading to an explosion occurring in the lab. Eight students died in this explosion as a result. However, Bertha insisted that I take on the responsibility of this accident and admit that the explosion occurred because of the error found in my data. "You're a professor here. Nothing will happen to you if you're the one taking on the responsibility. But Oewn, on the other hand, will get admonished by the victims' families." I got dismissed by the university afterward. In the end, the victims' families burned me to death. My daughter, Leah Callahan, got bullied as well. She was forced to drop out of school later on and died from depression. While Leah breathed her last on her bed, Bertha was in the middle of celebrating Owen's promotion as a professor. When I opened my eyes again, I realized that I was five minutes away from the explosion in the science lab.

My son accidentally ate peanuts and suffered a severe allergic reaction. I threw away all the anti-allergy medication in the house and even hung up when he called 911 for help. I watched helplessly as his airway swelled shut and he suffocated to death. In my previous life, when my son struggled to breathe, I immediately drove him to the hospital. After an intense rescue effort, he survived, and I finally breathed a sigh of relief. However, my mother-in-law stormed in, furious, accusing me of being a monster and blaming me for nearly killing him. I hurried to explain that he was fine. Yet, when I presented the doctor's report and discharge paperwork, I was horrified to discover that they had turned into a death certificate. My son, who had been resting safely in the ICU, was gone. He had somehow appeared in the morgue. Refusing to accept it, I checked the surveillance footage. However, the footage clearly showed that my son never left the operating room. Instead, it was just me, talking to myself the entire time. I had no idea what was happening. No one believed me. They locked me in a psychiatric hospital. In the end, as my condition worsened, a swarm of frenzied patients attacked me and tore me apart alive.

I fell in love with my nanny's son in my past life. However, he used my brother's identity as the company's heir and took over my family's villa. Then, he spread rumors about me refusing to leave him alone. "Madison, I treat you and your mother like you're my family—that's why I've allowed you to live in my home. That doesn't mean you can write me lewd love letters, though." The rumors he spreads make my life hit rock bottom. My classmates isolate me, and my relatives despise me. Ultimately, I become severely depressed and take my life before even completing my studies. I'm later reborn on the day Calvin Latham starts spreading rumors about me. This time, I don't hesitate to expose his lies and reveal his true identity.

The Bloodfang Pack’s Alpha has declared a grand warrior match. A test of strength, cunning, and dominance. The werewolf who emerges victorious will not only earn the title of champion but will also claim his most beautiful daughter as a mate. But everyone knows this is just a formality. No matter who wins, I should be the one to marry Harken Shadowfang. He and I grew up together, our wolves intertwined by years of shared hunts and whispered promises beneath the full moon. He has always been my destined mate—or so I thought. The match begins, and Harken deliberately loses. I watch as he kneels in the dirt, breathing heavily, his sharp golden eyes flicking toward me with something cruel, something mocking. A chill runs down my spine. Why? Why would he do this? The victor stands tall, his fur still bristling from the heat of battle. Alaric Jaggedmane. A warrior through and through, his aura is heavy with the weight of a true Alpha—something Harken never had. Without hesitation, I step forward, lifting the warrior’s wreath. "Congratulations," I say, my voice steady. "You're now my husband." A furious snarl rips through the air. Harken storms toward me like a rabid beast, his fangs bared, his hands trembling as he snatches the wreath from my grasp. "Why didn't you pick me?" he demands, his voice bordering on madness. I meet his gaze without fear. Because in my past life, I did. I chose him. I thought he loved me. I thought we would be happy. But I was a fool. After my father’s death, Harken locked me away, keeping me weak with silver-laced drugs while he took his true mate, Ravyn Evermoon, to public events at his side. I was nothing but a tool. A stepping stone for his ambitions. A title to secure his rule. It was only then that I learned of his betrayal— of the three children he had already fathered with her. And so now, with this second chance granted to me by the Moon Goddess herself, I do not waver. I will not be Harken’s pawn again.

In my last life, my sister, Raven Webster, and I rescued two eggs. Her egg hatched into Snowviper, while mine became Blazewing. But Raven stole Blazewing from me. None of us could have imagined the world would end in a brutal heatwave apocalypse. Raven died from heat stroke in that inferno. And before she died, she tricked my husband, Snowviper, into strangling me with his own tail. Somehow, we were both reborn on the very day those eggs hatched. This time, Raven snatched up Snowviper. She thought having him would keep her safe through the heatwave apocalypse. What she didn't know was that Snowviper's powers could only be fueled by drinking fresh human blood every single day.

My best friend, Sienna Monroe, who always swears she'll never marry, goes with me to the fertility clinic and suddenly snatches away the donor profile I choose. That's when I know she has come back to life too. In my previous life, I wanted a mixed-race baby, so I chose the IVF route. Sienna mocked me, saying I'd just be raising someone else's child. But two weeks later, I was taken to the royal palace of Valoria. It turned out the donor I picked was none other than the Prince of Valoria, a man of eight national lineages. He not only insisted on marrying me as his princess but also promised that our child would inherit the throne. The baby and I were cherished by the entire royal family, so much so that the jewels they draped over me nearly bent my back. Meanwhile, Sienna flaunted her extreme feminist stance and offended business partners. In the end, she was fired and blacklisted across the industry. Sienna spent all her savings on a plane ticket to attend my party, where I would introduce my baby to everyone. But when I went to welcome her, she crushed my son to death in her hands and splashed concentrated acid on me. "You don't deserve such good fortune! You worthless witch!" But when I opened my eyes again, I had gone back to the day I asked her to go with me to the fertility clinic.

I was the legitimate firstborn daughter of the King of the North. After my mother’s death, my aunt married the King of the South and became his Queen Consort. She brought me to her court, raising me beside her own sons. The Southern King adored me—He would seat me upon his knee and gesture toward the princes, laughing lightly: “When Hazel comes of age, whichever prince she chooses as her husband shall inherit this throne of the South.” “Stay here, child. The South could be your home.” In my previous life, I chose the Crown Prince—Ethan. I stood beside him during the War of Succession. I funded his armies with Northern gold. I silenced rival lords. I secured the throne for him. And when he was crowned king—He repaid me with imprisonment in the White Tower. And an order signed in his own hand. The North burned.The court was purged. Before I was forced to take my own life, he came to watch. “If not for you,” he said coldly, “Ava would still be alive.” “She died alone while I could not even mourn her. You will suffer tenfold.” “The Nouth falls because of you. Their blood is your dowry.” Then I died. When I opened my eyes again, I was seated once more in the Great Hall. The King was smiling. “Hazel, today you will choose your husband.” The princes stood before me. This time, I did not look at Ethan. I pointed instead to the Queen’s third son. “I will marry Alexander.” And this time—I would decide who burns.

It was raining very heavily on the day my parents got divorced. There are two copies of the agreements on the table. One declares that the signee will stay with Dad, who's a gambling addict and has already racked up a huge debt, in the old town. The other declares that the signee will follow Mom, who will marry a rich businessman, and move to a coastal town. In the previous life, my younger sister, Tamara Browning, kicked up a fuss because she wanted to stay with Mom. So, I packed up my luggage quietly and went with Dad. Soon after, Dad quit gambling and received the compensation due to our house being demolished in a governmental project. Since then, he showered me with love and affection. Meanwhile, Tamara wasn't allowed to even leave the house. On top of that, she was neglected by everyone, so she died from depression. Now that we're given a second chance in life, Tamara snatches the cigarette out of Dad's fingers before hugging him, refusing to let him go at all. "Tiana, my heart aches for Dad's situation. You should live a good life with Mom. I'll give that chance to you." I deign to say anything at all. Instead, I just pick up the train ticket that'll take me to the coastal town. But what Tamara doesn't know is the reason behind Dad's decision to quit gambling in the previous life. At that time, I had overexhausted myself from paying off his debt, and I began vomiting blood due to my brain cancer. I practically had to risk my life just to get him to quit gambling once and for all.

Gabriel Steele was the most disciplined Alpha in the northern territories. A man who ruled his pack by order, law, and absolute authority. Which was exactly why our mating was a disaster. Last life, when my father handed me the Steele Marking Contract, I signed it without hesitation. I thought becoming Luna meant belonging somewhere. Instead, I spent years being laughed at. At pack galas, noble she-wolves whispered behind my back. “Wait—that woman with the green hair and the tiny skirt is our Luna?” “She looks like she walked straight out of a nightclub.” “No discipline, no manners… how embarrassing for the pack.” Cassian didn’t defend me； “Forgive her. She still has much to learn about pack discipline.” Discipline? Like I was some unruly wolf that needed breaking. So I buried my claws, silenced my instincts, and lived inside his laws— until the wolf inside me withered away. When I opened my eyes again— I was back at the moment the mating contract was placed before me. This time, I wrote another name on the contract. Amelia. She can have the disciplined Alpha. As for me— I’d rather be a wild she-wolf than anyone’s perfect Luna. But the moment Gabriel realized the bride wasn’t me—The Alpha who lived by iron law Broke every rule he had ever sworn to follow.