She Novel

She was reborn soft, sweet, and touched — surrounded by women who never learned to let go. Evangeline “Eva” Claire Maxwell — Lioré was once a brilliant, overworked woman from a cold, futuristic world. When exhaustion finally claimed her, she didn’t expect to wake up as a baby in the arms of luxury — a second chance in a modern world where time moved slower, kisses came warmer, and desire wore velvet gloves. In a world without magic, desire is its own spell. And love? It’s the most dangerous kind of possession.

To help my surgeon husband with his erectile dysfunction, I made an appointment with an expert six months in advance. But as the day approached, Isiah Coleman canceled it without explanation. Just as I was about to call him to demand answers, I spotted a post from his female friend on her social media. My usually stoic husband was beaming as he wrapped his arms around her. The caption read: [Only I can cure your illness.] What struck me, though, was the telltale bulge in his pants in the photo—a reaction I'd never seen from him with me. With a cold laugh, I liked the post and left a comment: [What a miracle worker!] The post exploded, with everyone speculating whether I'd confront the mistress. But what awaited him after the holiday was our freshly printed divorce certificate.

While attending a class reunion with my wife, we ran into her old flame—Caelum Zeth. After the gathering, Talia Grant cornered Caelum against a wall. When she found out he had fallen on hard times, she kissed him. "How much do you still owe? Be with me. I'll give you 100 thousand a month. Will that be enough?" I stood quietly at the corner of the street and snapped a photo of their heartfelt reunion before sending it to my lawyer. I also forwarded it to Talia, along with a message, "Since you two are so in love, go ahead and marry him."

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.

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.

The moment I tasted blood in my mouth, I knew it wasn't mine. It was hers. Again. They said I was weak. An omega. A wife. A shadow. But I burned everything they gave me—and walked away. Now, years later, I am back. Not as his mate. Not as his Luna. But as someone stronger. Someone he can’t control. He looks at me with those green eyes like I’m still his. But he gave me away. To her. Sienna smiles like a queen. But behind those lips, I smell lies. And death. They want me close. They think I’ll break. But I didn’t rise from ashes to fall again. This time, I’m not running. I’m hunting. And they won’t see me coming.

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.

They say that the deepest cuts come from the ones you hold closest to your heart. But I never expected my husband to be the one holding the knife while another woman twisted it in deeper.... My name is Ariana Carter. I am deeply in love with my husband Misha, and we have the perfect marriage. Scratch that, HAD the perfect marriage, or so I thought until he changed. His lies and betrayal broke me. Until I woke up. Now it's time for me to retake everything I lost--my life, my career, my family, and my dignity. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let's start at the beginning, shall we?

My wolf had been wounded by silver. It took me two years to find a rare herbal cure. But before I could use it, my mate, Gary, gave it away—without hesitation—to my adopted sister, the Black clan’s darling, Jane. The healer told me I had only one week left to live. So, I made a decision: I would freeze my body. Preserve it. I donated myself to Jane’s Werewolf Research Facility—the one she took such pride in. The day I signed the donation agreement, my pup threw himself into my arms and said, “Mommy and Aunt Jane are finally getting along again!” My parents praised me, saying I had finally learned what sisterhood meant. Gary looked relieved. “You’ve finally let go of your resentment,” he said. “I’m proud of you.” I smiled faintly. Yes. I’ve finally learned to obey. I would return the title of Black clan heiress to Jane, and did my best to grant everyone their wishes. But it was only when they realized I could no longer fight back— when my body had been sealed away in cryostasis, cold and silent— that the regret began. Suddenly, they wanted to bleed for me. They wanted to compensate. They wanted to follow me into the grave. But where were they when I needed them, when I was still alive?

"Ms. Stout, please read the requirements carefully. Once you submit your personal profile and sign up, all of your information will be sealed. You must then enter the research institute within 15 working days. Until the research results are made public, you will not be allowed to leave." The response from the National Academy of Sciences Research Institute came quickly, accompanied by a form. Shermaine Stout stared at the screen, but the mouse in her hand suddenly felt as heavy as lead. The door to her room suddenly swung open, and Shermaine blinked, quickly closing the laptop without a trace of emotion.