Novel & Cerita Seven Years Later Manhwa

I'd loved Jeffrey for seven years. When I was kidnapped, Jeffrey didn't pay the ransom because of Joanna. He wanted me to behave myself. After I endured hellish torture, I gave up Jeffrey as he wished. But he begged me to give him a second chance.

On the night of the Blood Moon Pack's grand ceremony, my Alpha fiancé Ethan solemnly announced before all pack members that we would soon complete our lifelong marking. The pack's blessings surged toward us like a tide. My face flushed red as I pressed against his strong chest, which carried the scent of pine. Suddenly, a figure blocked the moonlight at the temple entrance. Ivy, my friend who had vanished five years ago, stepped inside, accompanied by a pup with eyes like stars. Ignoring everyone's gaze, she walked straight toward us. Her collar slowly slipped down, revealing a deep Alpha bite mark on her neck. Under the moonlight, that mark was as shocking as a brand. "Lucas, come to meet your father."

At our seventh wedding anniversary dinner, I noticed something strange. My best friend, Darren Blackburn, who had always been single, had suddenly changed his profile picture to a couple’s photo. "So you’ve been hiding a girlfriend from me?" I joked with a grin. "When are you bringing her around? I should at least meet her and make sure she’s good enough for you." He just smiled and shook his head, brushing it off. "Not yet," he said. "It’s not the right time." Then Deanna Cunningham, my wife’s voice called out from the kitchen, "Babe, come help me tie my apron." I hadn’t even pushed my chair back yet when Darren was already on his feet, jogging over. He stepped behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist, and tied the apron strings for her. I froze where I stood. Seeing the look on my face, he quickly tried to explain, "I’m just used to helping out at home. My mom’s always bossing me around. It’s basically muscle memory. Don’t read into it." I didn’t argue or make a scene. I kept my expression neutral and carried on with the dinner as if nothing had happened. Only after all the guests had left did I turn to Deanna, who was clearing the table, and say calmly, "Let’s get a divorce." She slammed the dishes down with a loud crash and glared at me. "Seriously? Over something like that? Just because he tied my apron once?"

I jump off the seventh floor on my wedding day. Why? Because everyone has abandoned me to pick up a fake heiress from the airport, my fiancé included. I expect to see them riddled with heartbreak and regret after my death. However, my father merely shakes his head stoically and looks at my body while saying I was too willful. My mother bites her lip and sighs in relief. My fiancé, Magnus Gilmore, shields the fake heiress. He's afraid she'll see the horrible state of my body. The fake heiress is scared to tears at this, and everyone crowds around her to console her. No one cares whether I'm still breathing while lying in a pool of blood. I'm stunned when I see this, but I soon laugh self-deprecatingly. When I open my eyes again, I've been brought back seven years in the past. It's the day I've just stepped foot at home.

The day I won the championship in the pro gaming league, my girlfriend, Nina Vale, said she was coming to bring me flowers. Standing on the awards stage, I pulled the ring from my pocket, thrilled and ready to propose to her in front of everyone. However, instead of handing the bouquet to me, she turned and placed the flowers into the hands of her childhood friend, Rowan Cross, who was standing beside me. The pairing of a handsome man and a beautiful woman sent countless fans across the internet into a frenzy, enthusiastically shipping them together and congratulating them. Rowan’s fans tagged me and mocked, "Classic simp. Seven years of licking boots, and you still end up with nothing. Did you congratulate Rowan and Nina yet?" I replied calmly, "Respect and blessings. Enjoy being locked in forever."

I had been in a secret relationship with my mafia boyfriend, Dante Castellano, for seven years. No public contact. No photos together. No proof I had ever stood by his side. He told me, "Once I'm powerful enough that no one dares touch you, I'll make it official." I believed him. The day before our seventh anniversary, I found a ten-carat diamond ring in his suit jacket. I cried with joy, thinking seven years of hiding were finally over. The next morning, I wore my most expensive dress and sprayed on the only perfume he had ever given me. I practiced my smile in the mirror, the one I would give when he proposed. Then, my phone lit up with a breaking news alert. [Breaking News: Seven-Year Love Story Reaches Perfect Ending—Romance Blogger Alessia Romano Accepts Boyfriend's 100th Proposal!] In the photo, the influencer with eight million followers stood on her tiptoes, kissing a man. His hand rested on the back of her neck. On that hand was a scar I would never mistake. It was the scar Dante got when he took a knife for me.

Seven years. No mark. No title. No truth. I gave Damon Voss everything and he gave me a lie so carefully built I almost died inside it. Then one letter changed everything. I am not his patient wife. I am not his Luna in waiting. I am the long-missing Lycan Princess, heir to a throne, and mother to a son I was told did not survive. He took everything from me. My identity. My child. My seven years. Now I have fifteen days, one dangerous alliance, and a crown with my name on it. Damon should have made sure I never found out. He did not.

Three days after Theodore marked me, I took the three million his mother offered. Then I aborted our pup and forced our mate bond apart. Outside the operating room, he howled until he spat blood, begging me not to be so cruel. He said he would hate me for the rest of his life. Seven years later, we met again at an auction. A beautiful, docile she-wolf was sitting beside him. I'd come to the auction for the moonlight grass. But Theodore kept raising his paddle, snatching up the very lot I was bidding on. He took the moonlight grass, dropped it in front of me, and crushed it into the dirt with his heel. He said, "Anything you want, I'll destroy." He didn't know. The moonlight grass could save my pup's life. His pup, too.

My husband threw me into the crocodile pit to help his childhood sweetheart, who was a KOL, gain popularity. To make the live stream more realistic, he personally tossed bait at me. “Have you not eaten? My grandma can run faster than you!” He watched as I bled from my abdomen, believing I was just pretending to be pitiful. When I asked for a divorce, he kicked me to the ground. “Since you love pretending to be pitiful to ask for a divorce, why didn’t you just let the crocodile kill you?” I handed him a medical report. “My child died because of you. Does this count as pretending to be pitiful?”

When I woke up that morning and happened to glance at the mirror, a scream tore from my throat before I could stop it. Because on the face I had always taken such pride in, there was now a jagged, horrifying scar. As terror gripped me, a cool, detached female voice cut through the air beside me. "What are you shrieking about so early in the morning? Scared by your own ugly face?" I looked up in shock and realized the voice belonged to my girlfriend, Alicia. Only—she wasn't the same girl from yesterday. Gone was the youthful innocence I remembered. In its place, every movement, every glance radiated the allure of a mature woman. The words slipped out before I could hold them back. "Babe… you're gorgeous…" But Alicia's brows knit together, her gaze colder than ice. "Kurt, drop the act!" Act? I was at a loss. Why would she accuse me of pretending? "Don't call me the way you used to five years ago. It's disgusting." Five years ago? But… I'm still twenty-three… am I not?