She Came For Cwc

I caught my mate cheating on me with my step sister on the day of our anniversary and in return, he banished me from the pack! **** Zoey isn’t like every other wolf. She’s an omega but she doesn’t have wolf. On the day of her anniversary, her mate cheated on her and her step sister framed her for sleeping with another man! To save herself, she fled from the pack and a group of vampires attacked her and claimed that she belongs to their lord. Scared, she tried to fight them off and then she discovered she has a wolf! She defeats them but how did she end up in Alpha Graham’s pack? And why does everyone in the pack thinks she’s a vampire? She’s obviously a werewolf! Why can’t Alpha Graham stand her but why won’t he give her away to the vampire lord who claims to own her?

I knew from the exact moment I had my eyes on her. That what we're going to have isn't something simple, monotonous relationship often the common werewolves have till they die. Her physical condition was tiring her out, the abuse, the humiliation cutting her deep down, but still her eyes sparkled as she was hoping for something. Not only hoping, I was certain that she'd make it to reality, that's how determined her pheromones felt. The curvy reddish black hair hanging from her shoulder, sharp doe eyes highlighting her symmetrical face, the new blossoming figure, the subtle submission yet the aggressive domination surrounded with mystical aura, natural since she's an Alphaess. Luck wasn't with her at that time, but I predicted precisely that she'd come out of it, everything and everyone would be under her control. Hell, since that moment I wanted to be with her, I didn't care if it was love, or I was just a way of getting her revenge, or I was a tool. I promised myself that I'd do everything which works in favor, as her sweet yet powerful voice was ringing in my head making me slightly shiver, I never felt anything like that before. "May I help you with anything, Alpha Lorenzo?"

Alice dared to slap the most popular bad boy in school, Raymond. Raymond won't let her go, he decided to teach her a lesson she would never forget but in the process, an unexpected bond grew between the two.

In my last life, my sister and I got adopted into two very different worlds. My mom? The "cool" type. Let me perm my hair in elementary school, signed off on a nose job in middle school, and shoved me toward one of Northport's richest heirs right after college. Ella's mom? Hardcore strict. Pulled her out of a fling with some delinquent and married her off to a quiet professor with a just-decent paycheck. Ella hated it. Wanted my life so bad. So when I ended up in the hospital pregnant, she used her shiny doctor title to kill me—and my baby. Then boom—I woke up, and we were back to adoption day. This time, she dove for the mom she thought handed me the dream. What she didn't know? That "cool mom" she worshipped was straight-up a monster.

"I never really liked you as a woman." Those words were forever arched to my memory like it had been tattooed on it, at my own request.

One month before my wedding to my boyfriend, he announced he wanted to have a child with his "first love." I refused, but he brought it up every single day. Two weeks before the ceremony, I received a prenatal checkup report. That’s when I discovered his so-called "first love" was already nearly a month pregnant. It turned out he’d never intended to seek my consent at all. In that moment, years of affection evaporated like smoke. So, I canceled the wedding, destroyed every trace of our memories, and on what should have been our wedding day, I walked into a closed-off research lab. From then on, he meant nothing to me.

"I forced my billionaire husband's first love out and then I fell into the abyss. Six years later, he said he had fallen in love with me, but I was no longer attached."

Lena Clermont fell hard for her dad's friend, Andrew Rohan—twelve years older. The first time she saw him, he was all sharp suits and broad shoulders, effortlessly standing out. He smiled, patted her head, and handed her a princess dress. Fast forward to twenty. He got drugged at a banquet. She wore that same dress, offering herself as the cure.

I was five months pregnant when my husband, James Fletcher, allowed his mistress to invade our lives—on the very night of our wedding anniversary. But she didn’t just come to flaunt her presence. She came to take my life. Pregnant and vulnerable, I confronted her, desperately clinging to my dignity. But the fight ended with me tumbling down the staircase, my swollen belly crashing against the cold, hard ground. Blood seeped across the floor, vivid and unrelenting. James only arrived after hearing about his precious mistress’ ordeal. He stood there, staring at the pool of blood, at my broken body. But instead of helping me, he rushed to her side. She had nothing but a few superficial scratches, yet he swept her off to the hospital like she was the one dying. By the time he returned, my child was gone. The doctors barely managed to save me. And what did James do? He struck me in front of everyone, his words sharper than the sting of his hand. "Lisa only wanted to bring you a Christmas gift, and you attacked her out of nowhere! You shameless witch!" “She didn’t force her way in! What nonsense! I gave her the house key ages ago. You just can’t stand that she’s prettier and kinder than you!" “You didn’t just hurt her. You killed my child! You vile, despicable woman. Why couldn’t it have been you instead?” Lisa stood beside him, pretending to comfort him while flashing me a smug, victorious smirk. James’s vicious tirade didn’t stop there. He dragged my name onto the internet, painting me as a monster.

Three days after I died, my fiancé got a call to ID the body. He just scoffed. "She's dead, so what? Call me when she's in the ground." The cops, out of options, hit up my backup contact—my childhood friend. He actually laughed. "She's really gone? Not my problem. Burn her or whatever." Then my body hit the internet— And suddenly, both of them looked like ghosts.