Wen Ruohan

My mother-in-law, Kylie McGowan, told me that she wanted to experience the life of the younger crowd, so I took her to my husband Jerome Callen's newly opened upscale bar for a quiet drink. I had just ordered her a signature cocktail when a woman from the booth across the aisle sauntered over, wine glass in hand. Her eyes flicked over the menu on our table, and she laughed mockingly. "Seriously? You ordered the cheapest drink on the menu? Did you bring this old lady here just to enjoy the free AC? People like you should stay in the gutter. This place isn't meant for penniless people!" I rose to my feet, holding back my temper. "We're paying for our drinks here. What does our drink choice have to do with you?" But she suddenly snapped, grabbed a half-finished beer bottle off a nearby table, and swung it at my head. "My husband's the owner of this bar! I could smash your skull in and still afford the damages! Get out, you pauper! Don't be an eyesore here!" I wiped the liquor off my face as my entire body shook with anger. Then I turned away, started my livestream, and spoke directly to my followers. "Look here, everyone! I'm going live to catch a cheater. Let's go explore my husband's other home."

That night, Liam served me my usual evening tea. I trusted him completely—he was my mate, after all, and a respected healer of Thornpack. I shouldn't have. When I woke up the next morning, my head was spinning. The special safe where I kept the morphing inhibitor—the one I'd spent my entire savings to import from Europe for our daughter Isla—was empty. Racing to the healing center, I found Liam celebrating. He was handing out moon-blessed wine, beaming with pride as Natalie's daughter Anna showed off her perfect transformation. My inhibitor had been used on his first love's pup instead of our own daughter. The shock triggered something in my brain. When I collapsed, they diagnosed me with the rare tumor that plagued our kind. Without inhibitors, I couldn't stop Isla's transformation that came early, her six year old body couldn't handle the massive wolf form and the force ripped through her young body. And I, for one, don't even have enough money to keep her in a treatment center. She died in my arms three days later, her little claws drawing blood as the pain overwhelmed her. Until her last breath, she kept asking why Papa hadn't come. Now, in my cold, empty home, with the white porcelain urn containing her ashes on the table, I touch her and decide to sever our partnership.

My name is Margaret Turner. After my daughter, Sarah McDowell, becomes pregnant, I am shocked to find that I can hear the thoughts of the baby in her womb. "Grandma, please don't let Mommy get the prenatal checkup! If they learn I'm a girl, Dad will make her get rid of me. I don't want to die!" I can't believe what I'm hearing. Knowing that my son‑in‑law, Jeremy O'Brien, works at a hospital and can use his connections to learn the baby's gender, I do everything in my power to keep Sarah from being examined. But three months later, doctors confirm that Sarah's baby has a congenital deformity and is fated to be born disabled. Sarah is devastated, and guilt consumes me. Suddenly, I hear my granddaughter's voice again. "It's all because of Dad. He cheated with that nurse and returned home soaked in her cheap perfume. As soon as Mommy breathed it in, I was fated to come into the world deformed. Poor Mommy…" Rage explodes inside me. Without a second thought, I storm into Jeremy's workplace, determined to catch him in the act. I don't expect to walk in on a critical heart surgery he is performing. My intrusion throws the room into chaos, and the patient dies on the operating table. The patient's family loses control, and they cause a violent scene in the hospital. In the mayhem, Jeremy is killed on the spot. When Sarah learns what I've done, she is consumed by rage and declares she wants nothing more to do with me. At that moment, my granddaughter's voice echoes in my mind once more. "Mommy is heartbroken and needs time to heal. Grandma, please don't make things worse. Mommy will be okay after she rests." Hearing this, I force myself to stay calm. But that very night, word arrives that Sarah has thrown herself into a river and ended her life. Shattered by grief, I eventually make the same tragic choice. As my final breath fades, my granddaughter's chilling laugh echoes in my ears. When I open my eyes again, I find myself back on the day her voice first crept into my mind.

Eight years after I married that award-winning actor, he publicly declared he was dating the top starlet, Celine James. He even posted a picture of the two of them celebrating their adopted “baby’s” birthday. I did not call him to interrogate him as usual. Instead, he hurriedly explained, “It’s just a pet we adopted. As its ‘dad’, I have to be there for its birthday.” I said calmly, “Rather than adopting a furbaby, why don’t we get a divorce? Then you can have an actual baby with her.”

I was reborn on the night the Alpha lost control to dark magic, his heat spiraling out of his grasp. This time, I didn't become his remedy. Instead, I called his true love—my own sister. In my past life, I fell in love with Nicholas, the Alpha of our pack. When I learned he'd been cursed by ancient dark magic and couldn't control his heat, I made a choice I shouldn't have. I didn't push him away. A month later, I found out I was pregnant. As an Alpha, Nicholas needed an heir. The Council of Elders forced him to hold a marking ceremony with me. On the day of the ceremony, Leah couldn't accept it. She ran from pack territory. Rogue wolves attacked her. Before she died, Leah sent Nicholas ninety-nine distress signals through the mind-link. But Nicholas was in the middle of the marking ceremony—at my request—and never answered. Not once. Afterward, when the pack brought back what was left of Leah's body, his face remained eerily calm. But on the night of our pup's first full moon, he poisoned me with wolfsbane. Before I died, I heard his voice, cold as ice. "If you hadn't gotten pregnant, I wouldn't have been forced to mark you. I wouldn't have missed Leah's call for help. Her death is on you. And you're going to pay for it." When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the night Nicholas fell victim to the curse.

From a stall in the office restroom, I overhear someone badmouthing me. Henry Fielder, the intern I've been mentoring for three months, grumbles, "The guy's got zero people skills. He's a total fossil, like a robot stuck in one mode." I'm about to push the door open and jump in when someone laughs and piles on. "The paperwork is incomplete. The receipts aren't compliant. I can't reimburse it without a manager's signature. We could recite his canned empathy lines in our sleep!" Once they're gone, I quietly head back to my office. Later, Henry drops a thick stack of expense reports onto my desk. "Quit waving the rulebook and rejecting everyone's reimbursements." I skim the fake receipts, and for once, I don't call him out. Instead, I give a thin smile and say, "I have a headache. I can't make out the words."

As the male lead, Henry Johnston, forces himself on me, a row of comments suddenly appears before my eyes. "Henry is about to misunderstand and think Aria drugged him! The angst is about to begin!" "I'm thrilled just thinking about Henry regretting dearly after Aria dies!" "Keep up the act, Henry. After she dies, you'll be hugging her corpse and crying every day." That is when I realize that I am the tragic female lead in a story where I am destined to be tormented until I die. The readers treat my death as a highlight to push the plot forward. They are counting down to my death. As I look at Henry, who is panting on top of me, anger courses through me. I grab a table lamp and smash it into him, killing him on the spot. Who says that the one who dies in a toxic romance story must always be the female lead?

Being a Vampires pet is a fate no Human wants to endure… I was 6 years old when my parents were killed and I was taken to the pet store. A 6 year old cannot make choices for herself, so why am I punished for something my parents did? This question haunts me. Instead of playing outside with other kids, I was groomed and trained to obey my Master… I was to be the perfect pet. A maid, a sexual partner, a nurse, a blood bag… Anything my Master wanted, that was what I was expected to give. Obedience… That is what the Ringmaster prided herself on with her selection. She didn't get so lucky with me. Madame Vienna and I clashed hardcore. I learned quickly not to speak out of turn, but it didn't stop me from throwing a snarky remark here and there when I felt that I was healed enough to handle another punishment. This may be the only reason I lasted so long without being sold. But my time had come. I was on display for the world to see. Tattered and torn, but it didn't seem to matter to the man with the rose gold eyes who made the Vampires tremble without even saying a single word… What kind of creature was he to cause this type of reaction in an apex predator? I clenched my eyes shut as he brought me to the counter to check out. "Come, Ambrosia." The man purred after a moment. Shaking, I followed him, trying to take in any and every small detail of the outside world… "You can do this. Pretend it's just a bad dream… You know how to survive." I whispered to myself, as I followed my new Master to what was sure to be my death.

My mother-in-law and I were trapped during an earthquake overseas. The rescue team knew that my husband had a private plane nearby and asked me to contact him, but I could only shake my head in rejection of the idea. In my last life, I tried my hardest to call him and get him to come save us. My mother-in-law and I were saved, but my husband’s true love got angry and went out to let off some steam. The incident ended with her being tortured to death. In front of his mother, my husband said that his lover deserved it. Yet, on the anniversary of her death, he killed me the way she had died. “I’ve always known that it was your scheme. You have to die as Shevonne did!” This time round, when my husband took his lover on a private plane to admire the cityscape at night, he found out everything that had happened and went mad.

Die drei Richter-Brüder, für die ich einst das Wichtigste im Leben gewesen sein soll – ausgerechnet als ich unter einem bösartigen Hirntumor litt, waren sie nirgendwo zu finden. Die Operation könnte zu Gedächtnisverlust führen. Ich wollte sie nicht vergessen, also rief ich sie an und bat um Hilfe. Doch kaum war die Verbindung hergestellt, prasselten ihre Beschimpfungen auf mich ein: „Lena, heute ist Vanessas Geburtstag! Musst du uns ausgerechnet jetzt Ärger machen?“ Vor Schmerzen verlor ich das Bewusstsein. Als ich im Krankenhaus wieder aufwachte, sah ich eine Nachricht von Vanessa auf meinem Handy. „Lena, die Brüder haben mir drei Schutzamulette geschenkt, um mich zu beschützen!“ Auf dem Foto waren die drei Schutzamulette zu sehen – dieselben, für die ich sieben Stunden lang im strömenden Regen Schritt für Schritt niedergekniet war und jedes Mal meinen Kopf zur Erde gesenkt hatte, um sie für die Brüder zu erbitten. Endlich gab ich auf. Ich ging allein ins Ausland, ließ mich operieren und vergaß sie. Bis ich eines Tages drei fremde Männer vor meiner Haustür knien sah, die mich wie von Sinnen um Vergebung anflehten.