Yaholics Anonymous!

The apocalypse has arrived. I carry multiple special abilities and am humanity's hope. However, my wife tears those powers out of me for the sake of her true love. I'm in unbearable pain. I beg her to stop, telling her I'll die. But she doesn't care at all. "Why are you so selfish? You have so many abilities and won't even give one to Ed. Stop being so dramatic. Why do you get to be the hero while my Ed stays an ordinary person?" What she doesn't know is that each special ability is like a heart—take it away, and the person dies.

I died in the year my husband hated me most. Unable to endure his endless silent treatment any longer, I swallowed a bottle of pills and ended my life. At the crematorium, watching the flames roar inside the furnace, he allowed himself a rare smile. “Someone as vile as her doesn’t deserve to be laid to rest whole.” So when the staff handed him the urn, he flipped it over. My ashes scattered across the floor in an instant. All this time, he had believed I was responsible for the death of his first love. That belief was why he had schemed and plotted for years, all for this precise moment of final desecration. When it was over, he stepped over my ashes and walked away without looking back. Though not long after that, he fell to his knees and begged the crematorium to give my ashes back to him.

When the flood hit, my husband, Patrick Holmes, who was part of the rescue team, stood between me and his first love, Victoria Clarke, torn with hesitation written all over his face. Without thinking twice, I shoved the only lifebuoy into Victoria's arms. In my previous life, Patrick had handed the lifebuoy to me instead and stayed behind with Victoria, choosing to die alongside her. Just before they both drowned, rescuers arrived in the nick of time and pulled him out, but Victoria didn't make it—she drowned that day. After that, he devoted himself completely to me, taking care of me in every moment of our daily lives. I had thought that the disaster made him cherish me more, but I was wrong—so terribly wrong. While I was hospitalized, Patrick unplugged my oxygen tank himself. He hissed, "If you hadn't insisted on going home to rest that day, I wouldn't have been torn on who to save, and she wouldn't have died. Now, you'll atone to her in the afterlife." I struggled helplessly as my vision blurred and death crept in. Then, everything went dark. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day the flood began.

My husband’s friend’s widow uploaded a picture of her pregnancy report. [Thank you for letting me have my own baby.] I responded with a question mark when I saw Jake Green, my husband’s name, in the husband column. Jake immediately called me to yell at me. “She’s a widow and is living alone. All she wants is to have a baby to keep her company and give her life a little more cheer. How could you not show her even this bit of pity? “You know that Henry is my friend. It’s only right for me to take care of his wife after he died! This is called friendship, don’t you understand?!” Soon, Henry’s widow uploaded a photo of a loft apartment. [Thank goodness you’re by my side to let me experience the warmth of a family again.] When I saw Jake busying himself in the kitchen in the photo, I thought it was time to end the marriage.

When my older sister, Rhea Silverhilt, and I are given a chance to choose our marriage partners for the clan alliance, she rushes ahead and claims the noble fire dragon, Drakon Ragnarok. I am left to match with a brutish wolf, Flint Greyfang. Not long after the wedding, Drakon dies in an unexpected accident. Rhea loses her protector and is vulnerably subjected to scorn and abuse. Meanwhile, the sharp-minded and shrewd Flint reveals a surprising talent for business and swiftly amasses a fortune. Consumed by bitter hatred, Rhea corners me at the grand sacrificial rite and stabs me to death. When I open my eyes again, I am back on the day we are to choose marriage partners. This time, Rhea darts forward and holds Flint's hand. In that instant, I know that she's reborn, just as I am. What she doesn't know is that wolves are innately violent and abusive. They love settling disputes with fists.

Amy is a nobody at school--a nerd. Derek is a now distant friend turned popular badboy. What happens when the badboy falls for the unknown nerd? What will this journey of two unlikely people bring? Find out in this story, Ill Met By Moonlight.

After a car accident, my wife loses her memory. She throws herself into her first love's arms and frantically aborts our child. When I confront her in despair, she looks at me with nothing but contempt. "Why would I keep some child when I don't even know who the father is? You're really shameless, pulling this stunt just to avoid splitting the assets." What she doesn't know is that I have made a deal with the system to bring her back to life. By the time she remembers everything, she's already searching desperately for me all over the world. But I can never return.

On the day we were supposed to get our marriage license, Michael Robertson ghosted. I sat outside the County Clerk's Office for hours. Instead of him, I got a pic from his secretary, Kallie Clunt. She was in his lap, arms wrapped around him, making out like it was the hottest scene in a drama. [Sorry, Elsa. Michael said he had to comfort my broken heart. You don't mind, do you?] When I asked him about it, he just looked annoyed. "She gave me blood once. What's the big deal if I hang out with her? Can't you be a little more understanding?" My stomach dropped. I turned away and called his older brother. "Leon, do you still want to marry me?"

In my previous life, on the day my sister and I attended the Witch Covenant's mating ceremony, I saved a fallen vampire prince. To repay my debt, the prince, upon returning to his clan, immediately declared that I would be his future bride. A year later, I gave birth to a pureblood heir—the only successor of the entire vampire lineage. The prince was overjoyed. On the day of his coronation as King, he sealed a blood bond with me, declaring me his eternal companion and queen. From that moment, I was revered by all races. My sister, meanwhile, chose a powerful werewolf Alpha, only to fade into obscurity as one among his many lovers. Her jealousy of me spiraled into madness. During a full-moon ritual held by the witches, she pushed me into an abyss, leaving me to die from the fall. When I opened my eyes again, I saw her running toward the direction of the vampire prince's misfortune on the very day of the mating ceremony. I knew then: she, too, had been reborn. But what she didn't realize was this—becoming the prince's bride was easy. Winning his heart, bearing his child, now that was as impossible as climbing to the heavens.

Three years after I died, Stella, my wife, decided to divorce me and marry her dying ex. She stormed into my old house like she owned the place, forcing me to sign the divorce agreement. Mom told her the truth—I was already gone. Stella rolled her eyes. "Why's he still pretending? Harvey's dying. I just wanna be there for him. What's so wrong about that? If he won't come out, I'm done paying your medical bills." She thought threatening Mom would shake something loose. But what Stella didn't get? Mom had already stopped treatment. She was just hanging on to watch her crack.