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As the fated mate of the future Alpha of the Silvermoon pack, I've been waiting for Ethan Ford for three whole years. When he gets close to me, my wolf howls obnoxiously because of the mate bond between us. Despite that, he refuses to complete the marking ceremony on the night of the full moon. After that, Ethan shows signs of obsessive infatuation with Ella Turner, my stepsister. He claims that Ella is his true love and goes as far as to release his possessive pheromones all over the pack territory while completely disregarding the pack's rules just so he can woo her. This time, my wolf no longer howls in sorrow, nor do I attempt to get him to stay with me via our mind-link. Instead, I just watch Ethan and Ella's lovey-dovey interactions calmly. At that moment, I've already taken the initiative to block Ethan out of my mind forever.

In my previous life, my sister set her sights on the formidable river dragon and married him without hesitation. I chose the unassuming merman. She thought she would ascend as the queen of the dragon clan. However, when the river dragon failed his ascension trial, my sister, as his mate, was caught in the fallout and narrowly escaped death. Meanwhile, the merman unexpectedly inherited the Sea God’s Legacy and rose to become ocean royalty. Everyone knew I was to become the empress. At the celebratory banquet, my sister poisoned my wine. Reborn into a new life, my sister rushed toward the merman and chose him, saying, “The empress’ throne will be mine!” Little did she know that the merfolk’s true nature was cruel, finding pleasure in tormenting others.

After being reborn, I cut off every line of contact with Maxwell Sutton. He chooses Elmshore University, so I change my application to Stonewick University instead. My goal is to stay far away from him and never cross paths again. When he comes back to the country for holidays and tries to meet up, I fly abroad. I block him on social media and stop replying to his emails. The moment he joins the same company as me, I hand in my resignation. I don't even want to see him from a distance. In my previous life, I was obsessed with him for 20 years, and he betrayed me for 20 years. I was diagnosed with a terminal illness in my 30s. While I took my last breath, Maxwell was busy planning a wedding with his first love. The daughter we raised adjusted his suit like the perfect child, while I died alone in a hospital room. And now, I refuse to live that ridiculous life again.

My husband, the hospital director, stole my kidney to save his beloved first love, who suffered from uremia. While I was under anesthesia for heart surgery, he stormed into the operating room without permission and ordered the removal of one of my kidneys. I begged him to stop, explaining that my heart condition was critical and that I could not survive back-to-back major surgeries. He only sneered at me, his voice dripping with disdain. “I knew you’d be jealous of Cece and make pathetic excuses. That’s exactly why I chose this moment.” Ignoring my desperate pleas, he took my kidney and walked away. In the end, I suffered multiple post-surgery complications and died miserably on the operating table.

I dated my lawyer boyfriend for five years. He canceled our wedding. Fifty-two times. First time? His intern messed up some paperwork. He ditched me at the beach to fix it. I waited all day. Alone. Second time, we were mid-ceremony when he bolted. Heard that intern was getting heat from another lawyer and left me to face the guests and their stares. After that, every time we tried again, there was always some "emergency" with her. Always. I finally hit my limit. I was done. Packed up and broke it off. But the day I left Ainsley? He totally lost it trying to find me.

On the day Zachary Lake stands at the pinnacle of global technology, accepting his award, I'm lying in a hospital bed, abandoned by doctors because I can't afford treatment for kidney failure. On TV, the host asks him to call the person he's most grateful for. Without hesitation, he dials my number. "Shannon, do you regret leaving me?" he asks. I clutch the astronomical medical bill in my hand, the paper crumpling beneath my fingers. Forcing a light tone, I reply, "Can you take me on as your kept woman now that you're a big deal?" On screen, his face remains expressionless as he hangs up without a word. Then, his cold voice pierces through the broadcast. "Now, I have nothing to feel grateful for." But what he doesn't know is that when he was on the brink of death years ago, I was the one who gave him my kidney.

After my mother shot down my pleas to cover my medical bills the 100th time, I clutched my bone cancer diagnosis papers and trudged to the crematorium. "Hi, I'd like to reserve a cremation slot ahead of time," I muttered to the clerk. Half an hour ticked by before my parents and adopted brother arrived in their car. My dad, a forensic pathologist, cracked me across the face. "You're pulling a fake-death stunt now, just to steal the spotlight from your brother?" My mom, a hospital director, snatched the papers from my hands and shredded them into confetti. "Faking records using my credentials and tying up hospital resources? You've crossed the line!" My brother cried, tugging at their sleeves. "It's all my fault. I'll skip the amusement park forever. I don't need a thing. Just quit riling up Mom and Dad." I spun around, my hand pressed against my throbbing chest, and begged the crematorium staff. "Please, when it's time, cremate me and scatter the ashes in the river. I've got no family left in this world."

My wife's first love kills me without a shred of mercy. But my wife, a world-class surgeon, doesn't try to save me. Instead, she comforts her first love. "He's so ruthless! How could he hurt you this badly?" She even tells the police that I've severely injured her first love, claiming she wants to press charges for attempted murder. Then she points at my body and demands that I get up and apologize to her first love. "Charles, stop pretending! You just want me to pity you, right? Get up and apologize to Steven!" she yells.

At a classmate’s wedding, everyone joked with me, "So when are you getting married?" I said, "Soon." My girlfriend, Fiona Hartley, said she hadn’t thought about it yet. After we spoke at the same time, she looked at me with undisguised disgust. "When did I ever agree to marry you?" That night, claiming it was out of spite, she went out with friends to a get-together centered around her long-cherished first love. I knew then that she had never intended to marry me. So I didn’t try to stop her. I let the wedding plans continue as scheduled. After all, she was never the woman I wanted to marry in the first place.

The day my boyfriend got back together with his first love was the day I boarded the flight to Imperia. "Queenie was just a fling," said my boyfriend. "I'll never see her again. We'll be together forever." His friends were worried about my ruining his heartfelt confession, but I would not. Not this time. Before I went to Imperia, I promised my mentor I would join medical research, and I was half a month away from total communication cutoff. I would have to stay around for ten years for the research. I would not be allowed to contact anyone in the meantime. And thus, my ties to my soon-to-be ex were broken.