The Mountains

Uptil the age of 9, Roselia had lived the life every child dreamed of, a loving father, mountains of toys and dollhouses and whatever else that she desired. But her world came crashing down when her father died all of a sudden. Then Roselia runs away from her home at the age of 12 for reasons that would haunt her forever. She gets on a train and travels to a different state which is when she is rescued by a man. Little does she know that the man, Derek Clifford, is the heir to the ‘Cliffords dynasty’, a billionaire family, known for masquerading their money source as a ‘family business’. But the biggest revelation awaits Roselia at the Clifford mansion… that the person responsible for her father’s ‘unexpected death’ might just be a very important member of the Clifford’s family. Just then, Derek leaves to go overseas. 6 years later What Roselia hadn’t expected was that her love for the man who saved her life 6 years ago might just get in the way of her exacting revenge as she stays in the Cliffords mansion in the guise of a chef. Derek Clifford had not ever dreamed that he would fall in love. Power was all he had ever desired. That is until his cold grey eyes latched onto the all-grown Roselia and his carefully-knit life comes falling apart. But deep down perhaps he had known that it wasn’t just moral obligation that had made him so fiercely protective of her back in the past. Unfortunately for Roselia, Derek has a dark side to him, a side he never wanted to reveal to her. Would she run or would she stand with him? Would Derek even let her go? Could he?

My twin sister, wanting to be with her thug boyfriend, secretly planned to apply for a junior college. When I could not talk her out of it, I told our parents and managed to stop her. However, just a month into the new semester, her thug boyfriend cheated on her. She left a suicide note, blaming it all on the long distance between them. She wrote that if she had gone to that junior college, her boyfriend would never have cheated. Grief‑stricken, my parents turned all their rage on me. "You wretched girl, this is all your fault for meddling! What business was it of yours which school your sister went to? Even if she didn't go to college, we could still support her. We didn't need your big mouth!" "If it weren't for your spiteful tongue, your sister wouldn't be dead!" "We were cursed to have a vicious, unfilial daughter like you!" They locked me in her room, ordering me to repent. Then they took her ashes on a trip, saying they wanted her to see the beautiful mountains and rivers she never got to visit in life. A month later, they returned from their travels to find me long dead, starved to a withered husk in front of my sister's photo. Their eyes held no grief, no guilt, only a faint, scornful curl of the lips. In their eyes, my death was nothing more than justice served. My broken soul saw their icy expressions, and despairing tears burned my eyes. Then my sister's familiar voice rang out again: "What business is it of yours which school I go to? You're just jealous that I have a boyfriend, aren't you?"

Caroline just wanted to make it home for Christmas. Instead, she spun off the road in the ice-silent realm of the mountains and nearly died in the blizzard. When she opens her eyes, the first thing she sees is a tall, muscular man with jet-black hair, emerald-green eyes, and an intensity so visceral it steals her breath away. Rowan Blackthorn. The man who saved her and who looks at her as if he wants to drive her away and devour her all at once. Rowan is cold, arrogant, ruthless. He doesn’t ask, he doesn’t explain: he only commands. Every movement he makes is tense, dominant, dangerously masculine, and Caroline’s skin tingles at his every touch, as if her body recognizes some forbidden truth. The man clings to her with fury, yet desperately tries to keep her at a distance. But when Caroline simply walks past him, Rowan’s gaze rakes over her as if he could strip her bare with a single look. The tension between them is almost tactile, hotter than the fireplace flames in the mountain cabin where they are trapped by the storm. And while Rowan denies this desire with every fiber of his being, something dark and ancient stirs in the forest, reacting to Caroline’s presence. As if her arrival were more than a mere accident. As if she herself were the winter-bound secret that upends everything. Rowan says she brought danger with her. Caroline only feels one thing: the true danger is Rowan himself, and the fire his body ignites within her. One thing is certain: This holiday won't be about peace and joy. It will be about survival, the power of craving, and the fact that sometimes the most dangerous man is the one you most want to run from.

When I opened my eyes once more, Flora was holding me tightly. I had secretly loved her for a decade. Her warm lips kissed my neck, telling me not to leave. This time, I pushed her away and told the butler to send her to her first love's home. Her first love was Sean Graham. In my last life, Flora drank so much that she was drunk during the celebration organized for me to celebrate me for getting an overseas college's offer letter. After the celebration, I didn't refuse her when she wanted me to stay, and that wild night came to pass. The next morning, when Sean saw me coming out of Flora's bedroom, he pretended to be amiable and said he would make our wish come true despite the darkness in his eyes. Then, he disappeared for about one month. In the end, we found a blood-stained necktie in the mountains and the skeletal remains that had been feasted on by wild animals. Flora didn't sleep for an entire night as she held Sean's necktie in her hand. After that, it was like the discovery hadn't affected her at all, as she still passionately planned for my birthday trip. But that very night during the trip, I was abducted. I begged the kidnappers to beg Flora to pay the ransom, but I heard her personally give the orders. "Don't let him die too easily. He's just some scum of the earth. Do whatever you want with him. When you're done, dump him in the Northern Barrens and clean things up. He owes Sean this much!" Flora, I'm done playing by your rules this time around.

I'm a noble wolf woman. As soon as I was born, I'm destined to become a candidate in pursuit of the future Wolf Queen's position. In my past life, Louis Hanover, the heir to the Wolf King, hated the fact that I had given birth to a black pup, which was viewed as an inferior lifeform. So, he killed the pup with his own hands. After that, he whipped me to the point my body was all mangled and squished. Only then did he order to have my body tossed to the mountains so that the beasts could feed on me. Before I breathed my last, I vowed to the heavens that I'd make Louis regret everything in the next life. When I open my eyes again, I find out that I've gotten reborn to the day Louis is bound to choose his wife. This time, he chooses my cousin, Chloe Dunn, who happens to be a brown wolf woman. Brown wolves' social status is second to white wolves. When Louis shoots me a look filled with hatred and disgust, I realize that he has gotten reborn as well. In my past life, Chloe had gotten married to a brown wolf man, and yet she was able to give birth to a prestigious white pup. Everyone showered her with praises because of that. This time, Louis thinks he'll be able to sire a white pup just by choosing Chloe as his wife. Little does he know that only pureblooded wolves can give birth to pureblooded kin. How can he, a mixed-blooded wolf man, possibly sire a noble white pup?

In my past life, I was trafficked and gave birth to a son. When Noah Barrett turns six, I plan to take him and escape from the mountains. On my first attempt, I map out the route in advance and prepare to flee with him. But in the morning, my mother-in-law, Ruth Whitaker, blocks me at the door. She ties me up and locks me inside the shed. Then, she starves me for three days. On my second try, I secretly buy sleeping pills from an unlicensed village doctor and slip them into dinner. At the table, Ruth flips the table without hesitation and beats me until I am half dead. The third time, I take advantage of a village meeting and escape with Noah again. We hide in a concealed mountain cave. Neither of us makes a sound, yet Ruth finds us with ease. I am dragged back and locked away in the pigpen. Ruth takes a shovel and strikes me with it again and again. "You filthy bitch. You dare run off with my precious grandson!" Her eyes are bloodshot. With the final blow, she uses all her strength and smashes the shovel into my head. I collapse to the ground. My consciousness fades. My blood drains away, and I die. When I open my eyes again, I am back on the day I plan to escape the mountains with Noah. Suddenly, I can hear Noah's thoughts, his voice clear and dripping with viciousness. "Mom can't be allowed to run. Grandma says Mom is our family's slave. She's supposed to serve us for her whole life."

To kill is to live. Elena has been living by that principle since she was fifteen, when she was disowned by her parents for the sole reason that she was not a son who could continue their family's legacy. The night she was thrown out, she was chased by a pack of wild hybrid dogs down the woods, and almost died if not for the help of Henry. He brought her to the House of Spades, an infamous guild of the most priced assassins. Even after knowing what place she was into, Elena accepted the offer to be an assassin. She wants to prove to everyone, especially to her parents that as a female, she can be a strong and skilled fighter that could equal a man. Blood flowed from her hands the moment she learned how to use sword. Now that she's nineteen, she's ought to do the biggest mission she ever had: To kill the Raven Pack's Alpha. She had everything planned for the big night. She will kill the Alpha at night of the pack's celebration when everyone is most likely distracted. However, when she went to the Alpha's chamber that night to slaughter him, she was surprised when the Alpha was anticipating her arrival, calmly sitting on the bed, eyes gold and blazing. Elena didn't want love in her life, let alone love. That's why when she wasn't able to resist him on that one night, she's willing to move mountains just to avoid him. They met in the city again, but this time she was filled when regrets when Rage died in front of her. A hundred years later, they were reincarnated as normal people in human world and had completely forgotten about their past life. Will they have their happy ending this time?

The new intern claimed she had clairvoyant sight. With just one look, she could tell exactly where the underground gold deposits were. As the institute’s chief gold prospector, I was deeply embarrassed. Every time I went through hell to locate a vein, she somehow managed to report it to the institute before I could. Even the engineering crew working under me was full of complaints. “What kind of chief prospector is she? Following her means panning in the river one day and digging holes in the mountains the next. We work ourselves half to death and get nothing to show for it!” “Exactly. Look at Jane. She just joined the institute and has already found two major gold mines. The crews working with her have already earned first-class commendations.” While the crew complained about me, I began to suspect that someone among them was leaking information. So the next time I went out to search for gold, I worked alone and finally found a major deposit. But just as I was about to report it to the institute, I discovered that Jane had beaten me to it again. That time, I couldn’t hold back anymore. I openly questioned her and accused her of stealing my work. She fired back, claiming her clairvoyant sight had shown her that I had been secretly pocketing gold from the mine. Even my fiancé stepped forward and testified against me. In the end, I was sent to prison on false charges and died there, never able to clear my name. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my fiancé’s junior apprentice first claimed she had clairvoyant sight.

I fell in love with a cold, taciturn tattoo artist named Henry Kane. So I deliberately damaged my tattoo again and again, picking at the skin and reworking the design, just to see him a few more times. By the third visit for touch-ups, scrolling comments suddenly appeared before my eyes: “I’m dying of laughter. This desperate female lead literally destroyed her freshly tattooed skin just to see the male lead again, and she still didn’t dare confess her feelings.” “Henry Kane is actually the embodiment of an ancient ferocious beast who sat on mountains of gold and silver but refused to spend them, choosing instead to open a tattoo studio to experience mortal life.” “He looks icy and distant, but his possessiveness has long since maxed out.” “He was just afraid his violent nature would scare his woman away.” I looked at the man in front of me, who was lowering his head as he wiped down the tattoo machine, and he did indeed give off an unmistakable keep-your-distance aura. But the comments claimed that he wanted to possess me? “Um… Excuse me?” The man tilted his head slightly, and under the weight of his deep gaze, the confession lodged in my throat. My mind short-circuited, and I blurted out, “I… I wanted to tattoo it on my lower back this time.” In an instant, the comments exploded in joy. “Woohoo! We’re taking off!” “Lower back, you say? That’s a sensitive spot! Can this pure-hearted ferocious beast really hold back?” “Good grief, straight to the undressing scene! This cunning move by the female lead is operating on a whole other level!” The man’s hand gripping the tattoo machine jerked to a sudden stop, and the air seemed to freeze for a few seconds. Then he answered, his voice slightly hoarse and unreadable, “Alright.”

In the late stages of her pregnancy, my wife slipped away into the mountains with her childhood sweetheart, seeking some reckless thrill under the open sky. Fate, however, had other plans. She suffered a massive hemorrhage, and the two were rushed to the hospital. As a doctor, I took one glance at her condition and instructed the nurse to prepare for the cremation. In my previous life, I had risked everything to save her. On that very operating table, she and the child inside her perished together. Her childhood sweetheart, overcome with grief and fury, rallied others to accuse me of seeking personal revenge. Their rage was relentless, and they broke my hands. "A butcher like you, without medical ethics, deserves nothing less than eternal damnation!" they shouted, their words burning like brands on my soul. Yet I distinctly remembered—the surgery had been a success. Her vital signs had stabilized. Clinging to hope, I begged my in-laws to conduct an autopsy, to uncover the truth buried beneath the accusations. Instead, they called the police, who swiftly charged me with performing surgery under the influence of alcohol. Stripped of my rights, I was thrown into prison, where suffering became my only companion. Years later, upon release, I stumbled across a sight that tore what was left of my heart to shreds—my wife, alive and well, behind the wheel of a luxury car, accompanied by her childhood sweetheart and their child, living off the fortune I had worked tirelessly to build. Their betrayal didn't end there. Coldly and methodically, they lured me into a trap, casting me into a cement mixer to erase every trace of my existence. When I next opened my eyes, time had rewound itself. I was back on that fateful day, the one when her hemorrhage began.