Unscramble Opened

Jason Reed had been my boyfriend for seven years. He suddenly disappeared, and the last place I was able to trace him was Melvaris. That night, I received a video call. In it, a man holding an electric baton yelled, “Bring 50 million dollars as ransom to the industrial zone. Otherwise, don’t expect him to return alive.” Jason was beside the man. He was covered in blood. He pleaded desperately, “Clara! Save me! They promise to let me go if we give them the money!” Without thinking twice, I did as I was told. However, when I arrived, I was drugged and knocked unconscious. In the end, I was tortured to death. What hurt the most was not that. Jason took one-third of the ransom I had prepared. Then, he returned to Caldovia and married Hannah Blake, the student who had received financial assistance from my family. But when I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day he went missing.

In my last life, my brother Leo—the heir to the Moretti crime family—stripped our estate bare of every last soldier, all for a Vegas jaunt. All because his new flame, Scarlett, had a jones for the high-roller tables. The Volkovs—our rivals, the very ones Leo had just pissed off—saw their opening and stormed our gates. My mother, Sofia, took a bullet meant for me. Died protecting me. I blew up Leo’s phone, my pleas turning to screams. He didn't answer. He waltzed back in after the shooting stopped, bringing our men home, but far too late for it to matter. Then, the news from Vegas. Scarlett was gone. A suicide note left behind. In it, she painted me as the monster. The one who’d leaked our weaknesses to the Volkovs. The one who'd orchestrated a fake kidnapping and torture plot, all to drive her to despair and lure Leo home. A perfect, tragic lie. Leo read the letter calmly. Then he burned the letter and told me, "Forget it. It's handled." Father tore into Leo for abandoning his post, for leaving his family to die. And me? I was named the new Consigliere. But after the celebration, Leo cornered me in the wine cellar. His face was a mask of cold fury as he pressed the barrel of his gun to my forehead. "This is for family traitors," he hissed, his voice pure venom. "The throne is my birthright, not some backstabbing bitch's prize!" When I opened my eyes again, I was back. Right in the middle of the fire and the blood. This time, I shoved my mother behind me, dragging her toward the panic room. And the bastards who were too blind to believe me? They’ll regret it.

On the day of my son's one-month celebration, my notoriously stingy sister-in-law surprised me with a branded baby bottle. But instead of accepting it, I turned away and gave it to the neighbor's cruel son who had XYY syndrome. In my previous life, I had accepted that bottle with genuine gratitude, using it day and night to feed my son. I never imagined that a month later, in the dead of night, my son would suddenly suffer a heart attack and die in my arms. Strangely enough, the very next day after my son passed, my sister-in-law's sickly child—who had been confined to the neonatal intensive care unit since birth—was miraculously discharged in perfect health. Losing my son shattered me completely. I spent my days drowning in tears. My husband called me a cursed woman, claimed I brought nothing but disaster, and demanded a divorce. Not only that, but he insisted I leave with nothing. When I refused, he and my sister-in-law joined forces and accidentally beat me to death. It wasn't until after I died that I learned the truth. The woman I had thought was my husband's younger sister wasn't his blood relative at all. She had been adopted by his mother years ago to be raised as his future wife. Together, they had plotted to destroy me. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day my sister-in-law handed me that baby bottle.

The music made the speakers tremble, the floor vibrated with the rumble of the sound and the jumps of the crazy people. Each one in their own world, dancing together, dancing separately. Enjoying music, company and alcohol. I danced alone, with a drink in hand. Gliding, moving my hips to the rhythm of the music, not paying much attention to anything or anyone around me. Just enjoying that moment of inner peace that I was needing and he was giving it to me. It was a respite, a window that I opened myself in my own cage to let in air and I knew that as soon as I left the club the window would close and I would lock myself back in my world without fresh air. Therefore, he enjoyed everything he could. Alone. With eyes closed. Sweating the bad energy that others left me and breathing the good vibes that I had to give myself. They were approaching me. I drove them away. They invited me. I rejected them. they spoke to me I silenced them. I just wanted to dance and they were going to have to respect that. It was amazing how loud music could be my oxygen tank. It silenced my thoughts, freed me from tensions. There was nothing more relaxing in my life than dancing with my eyes closed and the volume turned up to a thousand. I twirled, I jumped, I wiggled, I hummed, and I sang. The brightly colored lights flickered making it difficult to see, but it was what I liked the most, going blind for an instant, forgetting that I had the ability to see the world, a false, disastrous and difficult world.

After the school cafeteria for elementary school kids shut down, I decided to offer meals for all the kids in our building at my home. At the end of the month, when it came time to settle the bill, one of the neighbors wasn’t happy. “The new caterer downstairs only charges $2.50 per meal, but you’re charging us $5! That’s an extra $75 per kid per month. Do you have no shame?” she accused me. I calmly explained that I only used free-range meat and organic vegetables in my meals. But no matter how patiently I tried to reason with them, the parents insisted I refund the difference and demanded I charge no more than $2.50 per meal moving forward. When I lowered my costs to meet their demands, they started accusing me of mistreating their children. They went online to expose me and even reported me to the authorities. The online attacks were relentless. I was fined, and my husband lost his job because of the controversy surrounding me. The stress pushed me into depression, and in the end, I jumped off a building to end it all. When I opened my eyes again, I saw those same parents being swayed by others in the neighborhood to send their kids to the new daycare service that only charged $2.50 a day. What they didn’t know was that the lunch caterer next door did serve meat every day—but it was frozen, diseased pork that had been sitting in storage for two years.

A bond mysteriously formed. Or was it tampered with? After a promise of a new mate to Connor, he suddenly felt like he was sharing the bond of the pack with someone but he did not pay attention to it as he did not want to have high hopes after the pain he went through for losing his mate, Anna. But then a strange lady comes to his pack, claiming him as her mate. He was uncertain about accepting her. One thing he did not know is that he had just opened his pack to vipers. They slowly crawled their way in and a predestined lady who was promised and destined to fight for them comes to light. How does the trail of Pain and sorrow drive in between Connor's fate for a mate?

I, Celine Walsh, and my dear sister, Caroline Walsh, became Pregnancy Maidens, who were fertile for merfolk, through the ingestion of special elixirs. We were betrothed to the merfolks through a political marriage. In my previous life, I had chosen a silver-finned merman who was powerfully built, but rough on the eyes. With him, I gave birth to several black-finned mer-children that were prized pedigree. Through them, I was elevated to the status of Crown Princess, enjoying a life of luxury and a prolonged lifespan of several centuries. Meanwhile, Caroline, who picked the purple-finned merman only ever gave birth to red-finned mer-children, which was considered the lowest of lows. For that, she became the laughingstock of the merfolk. Driven to madness by her jealousy, she took my inner pearl, turned me into minced meat and fed me to the fishes. When I finally opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day of my wedding. This time, Caroline quickly chose the silver-finned merman without any hesitation. Unbeknownst to her, rising to power through her children was not as easy as she had imagined. The silver-finned merman was a promiscuous and depraved one, the very embodiment of cruelty. His favorite activity? Torturing a pregnant lady…

My husband, Theodore, was about to take his childhood sweetheart, Rosalie, around the world in a hot-air balloon when I was kidnapped by his enemy. They were about to throw me into a snake pit. I gave up asking Theodore for help and called my father-in-law instead. In my previous life, I begged Theodore to save me, even kneeling in front of the phone camera. Hence, he abandoned the hot-air balloon ride with Rosalie and rushed to negotiate with the kidnapper. Rosalie was all alone and angry. She took another hot-air balloon, but it exploded mid-way, causing her to die on the spot without even leaving behind an intact corpse. Hearing the bad news, Theodore showed a rare calm expression. He seemed to forget about Rosalie's existence and took me on a trip around the world. As we were sailing in Norwol, he suddenly pushed me into the sea. "I should never have saved you. Snake pit? Kidnapper? How could they have had the courage to push you into it? I should've never saved you if I knew it'd kill Rosalie. You should go to hell sooner!" When I opened my eyes again, I had come back to the day I was kidnapped. This time, I chose not to call for help. Humble love would only leave you bruised and battered.

My fated mate, Alpha Horton, didn't love me. He loved another omega, Chloe. In my past life, Chloe took her own life in despair over him, and Horton was convinced I had driven her to it out of jealousy. He hated me to the bone. Even bound by our mate bond, he refused to touch me. But when a rival pack’s silver bullet flew toward me, he shielded me with his own body. As his life drained away, he wrenched his cold hand from mine, his golden eyes filled with nothing but regret and disgust. "Sienna," he said, "my one regret is not rejecting you from the very beginning." After he died, the pack fell apart. Every member cursed me, screaming about why it wasn't me who died, but their great Alpha. It felt like my heart had turned to ash. I swallowed a vial of liquid silver before his grave. When I opened my eyes, I was back ten years in the past, shortly after we were mated. The cold voice of the Moon Goddess echoed in my mind. "Child, I will give you one more chance. Fulfill the three deepest wishes in Horton's heart, and in exchange for your life, your soul will earn its true freedom." I knew his wishes. To break our mate bond. To be with Chloe. To ensure the survival of the Snow Moon pack. This time, it wasn't too late. The freedom he craved, the woman he loved, the pack he swore to protect. I would give it all to him, using the very life he loathed to do it. But when I granted his every wish, in return, he wept with regret, calling me his only fated mate.

The strong and feisty Fajra rules her life on Earth. But it is not the life she thought that was meant for her, because her fate is not in the world she’s living in. Growing up, every midnight of her birthday, she hears a knock on her door, and she checks it every time, only to see nothing. However, on her eighteenth birthday, when she opened the door, an Alpha appeared in front of her, telling her that she was a lost princess and she was meant to rule the nation of Amare, the heart of the cursed Kingdom of Zunumbra. Watch as secrets slowly unfold and how fate will pave their way. Who is the Alpha? Who is Fajra? And what is the reason for their encounter?