Sweethearts

I was sitting in City Hall, about to sign that damn mate bond certificate with Logan—Alpha of the Eastside Moonclaws—when his phone buzzed. One glance. Then he stood up like this was all just another errand. Didn’t even flinch when he said: “Something came up. Let’s push the bond signing to another day, yeah?” And just like that, he was gone. Left me sitting alone, surrounded by bonded pairs, all glowing with that sickly sweet “forever” vibe. Why? Because Emma, his darling little childhood packmate, twisted her ankle during pack-speed training—trying to keep up with the advanced wolves when she barely passed the basic shifts. Ten minutes later, I get a text: “Emma’s injury’s kinda serious. I gotta stay with her. Let’s move the wedding, okay?” Just another time—maybe the last—Logan picked her over me. But this time? No tears. No begging. No rage. The clerk gave me a quiet look, like she already knew how the story ended. “Ma’am... do you still want to proceed?” I pulled out my phone.Didn’t wait for him to change his mind. The clerk gave me that soft, pitying look. “Ma’am... do you still want to proceed?” I shook my head, and dialed home. The moment my Beta sister picked up. “Tell Alpha Dad I’m coming back to the Ridge. Today.” A pause. “You sure?” “Yeah,” I said, standing up, my voice steady. “I’m done here.” And just like that, I walked out. Not just from the building—but from him.

On the day I'm supposed to pick up my bride for the wedding, Tracie Mayer, my supposed wife-to-be as well as the heiress of the Mayer family, is replaced by Jayne Cooper, a widowed fishmonger. Everyone in the groom's party laughs and makes fun of me. "Since when are you this thirsty? You don't mind women who have already given birth before, huh?" "I can't believe the heir of the Reeve family is about to marry a widowed fishmonger! Everyone's going to be tickled pink once word gets out!" My family driver's son, Everett Huffman, provokes me on the spot. "This is for treating me like a lowly servant and ordering me to drive you around! That's why Adeline and Tracie decided to avenge me on your big day!" Realization dawns on me immediately. My older sister, Adeline Reeve, and Tracie are standing up for Everett by putting me down. As I turn to stare at Adeline with red-rimmed eyes, she replies nonchalantly, "It's just a wedding ceremony. Endure it like a tough guy you are. "You and Tracie will still get married. We won't let you marry a widowed fishmonger for real."

At two in the morning, when the pack elders' urgent summons came, I had just crawled out from beneath my childhood sweetheart, the Alpha heir Slade. My body was still aching from his rough possession. As the only human healer in the entire Blackwood Pack, I was ordered to prepare herbs as a gift for Slade's marriage alliance with the Thorne Pack. I gently lifted Slade's arm from where it was wrapped around me. After a night of passion, his powerful Alpha body was still radiating a feverish heat. I assumed this was just another wolf princess he needed to turn away, so I poked his chest playfully and asked with a smile, "Slade, what excuse are you going to use the 99th time? That you've suddenly developed an allergy to the princess?" He rolled over and kissed my forehead, his eyes heavy with sleep. "My sweet girl, this time the herbs must be prepared by you, and you alone. The success of this alliance rests on your shoulders." I froze. For the past ten years, I had been his secret solace, the one who soothed his violent rages every night. I thought I would earn a formal bonding ceremony, sooner or later. But in that moment, I understood. I was just a convenience, a body for him to use. If that was all I was to him, then I would burn everything we had to the ground. I made a call to my old mentor at the National Institute of Medicine, Professor Sterling. "Professor, that research position regarding gene... is it still open? I'm ready to return to the human world." But when that arrogant Alpha, who claimed we were 'just friends' and 'strictly professional,' discovered he could no longer catch even a faint scent of me in the air, he completely lost his mind.

When my girlfriend, Cherry Jameson, receives her HIV positive test report, she finally realizes what her childhood friend, Neil Sawyer, meant by "life-and-death". In the previous life, after Cherry fainted from her latest anemic episode, Neil insisted on donating his blood to her. I did everything I could to stop the procedure from happening. I told Cherry that Neil had been diagnosed with HIV a long time ago, so she'd get infected if she were to receive his blood. But Cherry refused to believe me. Neil broke down in tears, saying that he never had a girlfriend, to begin with. Then, he went to the rooftop and pretended to jump so that he could prove himself with his death. But he accidentally slipped and fell, resulting in his actual death. In order to avenge Neil, Cherry worked with her classmates to kidnap me. She was the one who personally strangled me to death with her hands. Angrily, she roared at me, "Your slanderous lies killed Neil! I want you to pay with your own life!" When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Cherry is supposed to receive a blood transfusion from Neil. As I look at Cherry, who's in the middle of receiving blood from Neil, I just smile faintly. It's just HIV. She'll be fine.

On our wedding day, my fiancée humiliated me in front of everyone. She postponed the ceremony, not for an emergency, but to throw a lavish wedding for her childhood friend's pet hamster. Dressed in my tailored suit, I got shoved off the stage and was laughed at by everyone. My mom couldn't take the humiliation. Her heart gave out, and no ambulance could save her. Days after we buried her, my fiancée reappeared, demanding that I donate a kidney to that friend. The surgery nearly killed me, leaving me broken and betrayed. It prompted me to end things with her. She spiraled into regret, tormenting herself to win me back.

How long does it take to give up on a man you've loved for ten years? It takes me 3 seconds. The first second, I signed my name on the contract to become the chief designer of a renowned studio in Paris. The second second, I lock away ten years of my youth in my heart. The third second, I completely prepare to leave Levi's world. My fiancé Levi is the heir of the Smith Group, the absolute aristocracy. For others, he is untouchable. But for me, he's the childhood sweetheart who, with a crooked paper ring he made himself for the first time in his hand, told me, "You're the only girl I'll ever marry, even if I have to wait a hundred years." From that moment on, the only person I wanted to marry was Levi, and I never doubted that I would eventually marry Levi. But on the day of our engagement, he disappeared. I waited for a whole year, waiting for a message, a phone call, or a knock on the door, but nothing came. Later, he finally appeared. He stood next to a red Ferrari, holding flowers, and said that he still loved me, that he wasn't ready before, and begged me to give him another chance. I almost believed him. But at the same time, I received a provocative message from Levi's first love, Ruby: [Aren't you curious where he went during the time he eloped from your engagement? I'm already pregnant with Levi's child, and he loves kissing my pregnant belly the most.] I wiped away my tears, turned around, and applied to study in the Sorbonne University Faculty of Medicine, leaving only one sentence: "Levi, we're breaking up." Learning that I was leaving, Levi went crazy. He braved the heavy rain and blocked the entrance to my new place, his eyes red, asking me: "Stella, if I make Ruby abort the child, can you come back to me?"

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?”

In the two years after Bradley Vaughn's so-called "memory loss," we divorced seven times—all to keep his childhood crush Vivian Monroe happy. Number eight? Because Vivian got pregnant. "You can't have kids anyway. Once Vivian has the baby, we'll get back together. You can raise the kid." That was his usual ice-cold line as he slid the papers across the table. That night, he kicked me out—said Vivian got nauseous just seeing me. I moved into another house. Alone. In the rain. Even after I landed in the ER from a near assault, he didn't bother asking if I was okay. Then one day, I spotted him at a clinic with Vivian. He rubbed her belly and laughed, "So what if she finds out I faked the amnesia? She can't live without me. Toss her a bone, she'll come crawling." I looked away, steady. Then my phone buzzed. [How did your checkup go?]

On our wedding night, my husband didn't stay long enough to toast with champagne. He left me alone at the reception and retreated to the chapel. Because from the very beginning, this stoic, untouchable man had only ever loved my younger sister. For three years of my marriage, I poured myself into thawing a heart of stone, only to be met with glacial silence. "Claire," he said coldly, "I'd rather take vows of celibacy than ever love you." But when the truck came barreling toward me, the man who had resented me his entire life used his own body to shield mine. Just before I lost consciousness, I saw him gripping the paramedic's sleeve, blood staining his lips. "Don't tell that crazy woman who saved her… And don't let my family… make things difficult for her." Tears welled in my eyes. Only then did I realize I wasn't the only one at fault in this marriage. After coming back to life, I chose to join the United Nations Peacekeeping Forces and head straight to the front lines. If we were never meant to grow old together in this life, then let my final wish for him be this: A lifetime of peace, and an eternity of never crossing paths with me again.

I was born a Rogue. At seven, my sorry excuse of a father almost sold me to a disgusting old wolf. Julian the Alpha saved me. He taught me how to fight, to have dignity. Another Alpha, Lucian, showed me how sweet life could be. They treated me like their precious treasure. It all changed when their childhood sweetheart Claire returned. Julian and Lucian stopped spending time with me, and even severed our mind link. I thought that if I worked harder and was more obedient—if I changed myself to suit their tastes a little more—I could get them back, even if it meant losing myself entirely. One day, everything ended. To protect Claire, they intentionally rigged the game and lost the match. They threw me into the Death Forest, full of savage Beasts. There, a Beast pounced at me, its sharp fangs tearing my neck apart. I closed my eyes, the smell of blood drowning me amidst the cheers. No one cared for me… None. So be it! No longer would I have any expectations!