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The entire pack knows that my Alpha mate, Cassian Blackhowl, treasures me more than his own life. Against everyone's objections, he chooses me, an Omega, to be his mate. Before we form a mate bond, I suffer from a blood disease and hover at death's door. Cassian searches the world, draining his fortune, just to find someone with a blood type that matches mine so that I can have a transfusion to save my life. He stays by my bedside for months, never leaving, until I finally recover. But after we form a mate bond, I'm unable to conceive a pup. Cassian simply smiles and says, "Then I'll just have to try harder until you get pregnant." We get lost in our acts of passion more frequently until I finally carry a pup. However, I lose the pup, and the cycle repeats. Each time, the agony tears through me like my body is being ripped apart, leaving me weaker and weaker. Seeing me in such torment, Cassian gathers me into his arms. "Let's not try for a pup anymore. We can always adopt one." … Five years pass, and just as he once promised, he makes me the most envied she-wolf in the pack. But on the very day of our five-year bond anniversary, I receive a message. It's an invitation to a pup's birthday party. The message is withdrawn almost instantly, but not before I see the names of the parents—Cassian Blackhowl and Elara Wolfhart. I stand there, frozen stiff. Cassian is my mate. My Alpha. My life. And Elara is the she-wolf who once saved me with her blood.

Deux mois après ma mort, mes parents, dans leur indifférence habituelle, se sont enfin souvenus que j’avais disparu quelque part au retour d’un voyage. Mon père, avec son éternelle impatience, a froncé les sourcils : « Je ne lui ai pas seulement demandé de revenir à pied, qu’est-ce qu’elle a à faire une scène comme ça ? » Mon frère, toujours aussi détaché et cynique, m’a envoyé un message sur son téléphone, un émoji suffisant accompagné d’un texte froid et sans âme : « Tu ferais bien de rester morte là-bas, sinon la fortune de ma grand-mère sera la mienne, et celle de Léa. » Je n’ai pas répondu. Qu’aurais-je pu dire de toute façon ? Ma mère, elle, a grimacé et a lâché d’un ton dur : « Dis-lui que si elle arrive à temps pour la fête d’anniversaire de sa grand-mère, je ne reviendrai pas sur le fait qu’elle a délibérément poussé Léa dans l’eau ! » Ils n’ont jamais cru que je n’étais pas sortie de ce sous-bois. Alors, après un temps, ils ont commencé à y creuser. Et c’est ainsi qu’ils ont fini par retrouver mes os, éparpillés au fond des bois...

“You are broken. You are wolf-less. You are weak. You thought Landon O’Connor was a monster? Baby, you’ve not met us. The Kincaid brothers will rip you apart like flesh, we’ll sink our teeth on this graceful little neck so everyone sees our marks on you and afterwards? We’ll fill your womb with our pups so everyone gets the message who you belong to” -Connor Kincaid “Don’t bother arguing with me, it makes me hard. I know that waste of space you thought was your mate didn’t treasure you. But I do. I love these lips, these big hazel eyes of yours, your scent and most of all, I worship the ground you walk on. We all do” -Neo Kincaid “You were never meant to exist for men like us. You know why, River? Because once men like us find their mates, it’s hard to let go. We are possessive, we are jealous and more importantly we will never accept your rejection. You are ours for eternity” -Shane Kincaid xx When my mate, Landon O’Connor, alpha of the Silver Bullet Pack, cheated on me with my sister and later rejected me, I thought the Moon Goddess hated me. Turns out, I’m favored by the Moon Goddess because she gifted me not one but three mates. They are triplets. They are rogue Alphas who don’t follow the rules. They are ruthless and cold to everyone except me. The one problem is the triplets are rumored to be cursed and that should make me run away but I don’t. I fall for all three.

Sa loob ng siyam na taon, buong pusong ginampanan ni Isabelle Reyes-Santiago ang pagiging isang perpektong ina at asawa. Tahimik siyang sumuporta kay Lucas—sa kanyang negosyo, sa kanyang reputasyon, at sa kanyang ambisyon. Nanahimik siya sa likod ng camera, sa mga board meeting na hindi siya inanyayahan, at sa mga sandaling kailangan niya ng karamay pero wala ni isang halik o salitang ginhawa ang kanyang nakuha. Ang mas masakit? Wala siyang lugar sa sariling tahanan. Hindi lang si Lucas ang may paboritong kasama. "Mas gusto ko si Tita Karina kaysa kay Mommy!"—sambit ng anak nilang si Marcus habang nakangiti si Lucas, tila sang-ayon. Ginawa na ni Isabelle ang lahat para mapanatiling buo ang kanilang pamilya. Pero imbes na pagmamahal at respeto, ang gantimpala niya’y pagtataksil at pangungutya. Habang binubura siya mula sa buhay ng asawa’t anak, si Karina Sison—ang ex ng kanyang asawa—ang inilalagay sa pedestal. Ginawang presidente. Ginawang reyna. Hanggang sa dumating ang gabing iyon. Ang gabing tuluyan siyang nagising sa katotohanan—na minsan, kahit gaano mo kamahal, hindi mo na kayang manatili sa isang lugar na matagal ka nang hindi pinipiling mahalin pabalik. Pagod na siyang umasa. Pagod na siyang maging tanong sa pamilyang matagal nang may sagot—at hindi siya iyon. Kaya handa na siyang magpalaya. Handa na siyang iwan ang tahanang dati niyang ipinaglaban, sa piling ng mga taong mas masaya nang wala siya. Ngunit nang sa wakas ay iniabot na niya ang annulment papers sa kanyang asawa… Hindi galit ang sumalubong sa kanya. Hindi rin pakiusap. Kundi isang malamig na titig lang. Isang mapanganib na ngiti. At ang mga salitang… “You’re not going anywhere, Isabelle.”

I run into my former sister-in-law, whom I haven't seen in ages, during a prenatal checkup at the hospital. Wynne Jenkins glances at my belly. And just like she always does, her face crinkles with disdain as she starts nagging me. "Look at you, wandering around with a pregnant belly at your age," she hollers. "What if something happens to my baby nephew? Can't you be a little more sensible and stop making Sean worry all the time?" She must have forgotten. A year ago, Mom was gravely ill. Her only wish was to see me married with children. I staked everything and proposed to Sean Jenkins. On our big day, I waited from dawn until nightfall—only to receive a 30-second voice message from him. "I won't show up at the ceremony, and I won't marry you. This is what you get for bullying Lav." Mom was so enraged by Sean's recklessness that she suffered a heart attack and passed away. After taking care of her funeral, I erased every trace of myself. With what little I had left, I fled Horton—while Sean was still abroad, skiing with Lavender Quinn. And yet now, Wynne says, "Sean spends more than two weeks every month flying around looking for you. He's lost nearly 20 pounds in less than a year. "He's been waiting for you, Janelle. Now that you're back, please stay and build a family with him." I smirk and raise my hand, flaunting the ring on my finger. "Sorry, I like to keep a low profile. I'm already married, but we kept the ceremony simple. That's why you didn't know."

Pour son premier amour, Jean m'a abandonnée trois fois à l'autel. La première fois, Cécile a menacé de se jeter d'un immeuble. La deuxième fois, elle est partie à l'étranger. La troisième fois, elle a envoyé un message disant qu'elle allait accepter le mariage arrangé par sa famille. Jean, d'habitude si calme et maître de lui, a paniqué. Il a laissé derrière lui une salle pleine d'invités et a fait de moi une risée une fois de plus. Je l'ai appelé : « Jean, si tu ne reviens pas aujourd'hui, je vais épouser quelqu'un d'autre. » Il a ri. « Cécile est jeune, ça passe encore, mais toi, à ton âge, tu joues aussi à ce jeu ? » J'ai serré mon téléphone. Il savait donc depuis le début que c'était une petite ruse de Cécile, mais il avait choisi de la laisser faire. À ce moment-là, mon cœur s'est finalement brisé. Plus tard, après avoir enfin réconforté son amour d'enfance, il s'est enfin souvenu de moi. « Choisis une date pour refaire le mariage, sois tranquille, cette fois ce sera encore plus grandiose. » L'homme à mes côtés l'a interrompu en souriant : « Excuse-moi, ma femme et moi devons embarquer pour notre vol. »

To the world, I was Mrs. Ward—the untouchable queen beside the mafia king of New York, Elias Ward. But I knew my husband never loved me. His heart had always belonged to Harper Dinah. His nephew’s wife. And after that nephew conveniently died, Elias brought her into our mansion, “I just want to take better care of her,” he’d said. And his version of “care” was where he’d throw a man out of a party for daring to flirt with Harper and got her pregnant. Elias likes to praise me in public like I was the perfect wife to him. And I was. I helped build his empire. I was the one who smiled and played nice. I made his casino shine while he hid Harper away like she was something sacred. Because of all that praising, one of his enemies set his sights on me. They took me. Sent Elias a message soaked in blood and threats: Back off. Leave New York. Or your pretty wife dies. Of course, Elias didn’t choose to back off.. “Just wait,” he said over the phone, “They won’t hurt you, Noa. You’re leverage. Just hold on until Harper gives birth. Then I’ll come for you.” Eight months of being held in a filthy hole, starved, beaten, degraded. The gang leader raped me over and over again. And still, Elias never came. Finally, I escaped when they were all drunk. Went home, only find my twins sleeping in the maid’s room, eating scraps while Elias was too busy hosting a party for his newborn. I didn’t confront him, just packed my babies and disappear.

I fought my sister, Anna, for two lifetimes to become the Donna. In my first life, I got what I wanted. I became Lorenzo's woman. People said he loved me as if I were the air in his lungs. When he learned that I loved to dance, he bought an entire ballet company to keep me onstage. Then he broke my legs. He confined me to a wheelchair and displayed me like an ornament. One day, he brushed his fingers across my face and finally told me the truth. "I've seen enough dancing," he said. "And the one I truly love was never you." I died in that room, swallowed by despair. In my second life, I stepped aside and gave the Donna's seat to Anna. "You go," I told her. "The one Lorenzo really loves is you." I believed that choice would save us. I believed Anna would have the happy ending I never did. Five years later, they sent her back. Her legs were intact this time, but she couldn’t move them either. Lorenzo no longer treated her as a person. He had turned her into a ballerina statue, encased in plaster and posed at what he called her most beautiful moment, frozen in place. His men delivered the message without a trace of feeling. "He got tired of watching the younger sister dance," they said. "So he preserved her at her most beautiful." When I opened my eyes again, I found myself in my third life. Once more, the Don's men delivered a ballet invitation. Anna and I stared at it. The same question burned in both of us. If neither of us was the one he loved, then who was Lorenzo really watching?

Mon petit ami était officier de police. Je me suis retrouvée menacée par des agresseurs et la bombe fixée à mon corps était sur le point d’exploser. Il ne me restait plus que dix minutes à vivre. L’un des agresseurs, dans son froideur calculée, m’a ordonné d’appeler mon petit ami. Mais lorsqu’il a pris l’appel, c’était un déluge de mots cruels qui m’a frappée de plein fouet : « Romy, tu es folle ou quoi ? Es-tu prête à tout sacrifier pour capter mon attention ? Tu sais, le chat de Sylvie est coincé dans un arbre depuis trois jours, et elle l’aime plus que tout, comme si sa vie en dépendait ! Si tu me fais encore perdre une seconde, sache que tu es une meurtrière ! » Dans le même instant, une voix claire et douce, celle d’une jeune fille, s’est glissée dans le combiné : « Merci, Liam, tu es vraiment incroyable. » Et cette femme n’était autre que l'amie de mon petit ami depuis leur enfance... Alors que la bombe menaçait de tout engloutir, dans un dernier geste désespéré, j’ai envoyé un message à Liam : « Adieu, je crois qu’il vaut mieux que nos chemins ne se croisent plus jamais, même dans une autre vie. »

Kimberly Wilson had been married to Steven Smith for two years. When Steven proposed a divorce, she agreed without hesitation. Holding a huge fortune, she began to wealth freely. The Wilson family had only one child, so who would be family continuity? Simple, she said, 'Help me post a message offering a high reward for pregnancy.' It read, "Due to my husband's car accident rendering him infertile, seeking a healthy male for surrogacy. Generous compensation." As for the requirements, 'Must be handsome, have an excellent physique, graduated from an Ivy League school, and be good in bed. Price is negotiable.' Her highly efficient personal assistant, whom she had hired at great expense, sent over photos of applicants the next day. One ultimately met her criteria and even exceeded her expectations. The side profile in the photo, noble and aloof, looked familiar. She immediately decided, 'Okay, It's him.' 'He's available anytime, but he has one prerequisite.' her assistant informed. Kimberly raised an eyebrow, 'What requirement?' 'He's a bit shy, so the lights must be off.' Only later did she realize what trouble she had gotten into. The man was not only the sole heir to the multi-billion luxury goods group-Garcia group but also the best friend of her ex-husband. Steven didn't wait for Kimberly to reconcile as usual but instead heard the news of her new romance. Despairing, he said, 'I can live without her. Don't try to persuade me.' But later, drunk, he called in the middle of the night. 'Kiki...' His voice was choked up. A cold male voice responded from the other end, 'May I ask why you're calling my wife in the middle of the night?' '......'