Zay Flowers Crying

My husband, an Army regimental commander, was killed in action. Before his body was even cold, I didn't hesitate. I filed for his death certificate and notified the Army, the Social Security Administration, and our bank. Then, three days later—on the very day his twin brother married his childhood sweetheart—I moved out, changed the locks, and remarried quietly at the courthouse, taking my son and the full line-of-duty death benefits with me. To everyone else, I was heartless. Cold. I let them curse me. I just looked into my “brother-in-law's” bloodshot eyes and felt a quiet, cruel satisfaction. Only I knew the truth. In my last life, I discovered the body sent home wasn't my husband's at all—it was his identical twin brother's. I ran to confront him, but by chance I overheard him and my mother-in-law whispering. "Mom, Sarah is strong. And we have our son. She'll be okay. The benefits will take care of her. But Amy has waited for my brother all these years. If she finds out he's dead, she might do something drastic." Their words struck me like lightning. I tried to expose them, but my husband knocked me out. He told everyone grief had driven me insane. He locked me in the garage apartment and, with cold detachment, married his sweetheart. And when that woman complained my son was too loud, my husband slipped sleeping pills into our boy's juice—right as my crying child was coming to look for me. My son never woke up. The day they buried him hastily, I ended my life in the garage, utterly broken. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day they delivered my brother-in-law's body to our home.

I took a shortcut through the alley and watched Dante Marchetti put a bullet in a man like it was nothing. He saw my face. That was the end of my normal life. Within an hour I was in the back of his car being driven to an estate I had never seen before with gates that locked from the outside and a wardrobe full of clothes in my exact size waiting like someone had known I was coming before I did. He told me I wasn't a prisoner but a guest. He said people who wanted to find me were considerably worse than him and that his walls were the only thing standing between me and a conversation I wouldn't survive. Maybe he was right. The problem is the longer I stayed the harder it became to remember which one was true. Because the man who caught me in that alley wasn't the only version of him. There was another one that nobody else seemed to get to see. The one who stood alone in his dead mother's library looking tired in a way that had nothing to do with sleep. The one who had my cat brought to the estate because he heard me crying through a closed door and didn't know what else to do about it. The one who almost smiled when I threw a glass at his head. That version of him was the one I couldn't stop thinking about. I came here as a witness. I stayed as something else entirely. Somewhere between the locked doors, the candlelit dinners and the secrets we started sharing in the dark I stopped wanting to leave. The question was whether a woman like me could survive loving a man like him. I was about to find out.

He joined them like the others to destroy me. When he was good, he made me believe we could weather the storm. When he turned bad he made me believe he was the storm. “Good luck to your present Luna and if you haven’t good luck when you find her. I never loved you more than a friend, and today I’ll repeat I don’t love you, never did and never will not in a million years. What happened between us was in the past which was never meant to blossom. Let me go, I don't belong here, not in this pack and never will….” Before the words could successfully leave my lips a deafening sound rocked the cell and a large open dent came on the wall. Tagon. He took long hoarse breaths, his tight fist stuck in the wall. His eyes darkened with angry growls. What kind of a man has he turned to? It felt so hard not to think of the past. It was so hard not to think about how things were. The good days. He was the sweetest man I’ve ever met. I was foolish back then to think those affections were real. I was stupid to think my tainted blood could be made pure by garnering his favor and his affections. There were only two events he ever got mad: the first time we met where he met me crying and the second was when I told him… nevermind. He clicked his tongue sharply, “As long as you live you would forever be under my dominance. I own you. Your life, your blood and even your soul to do whatsoever my soul pleases. You are my slave and that’s your lot!”

Dad is famous for being a total simp over Mom in the elite society. Naturally, he views Callie Archer, the stepdaughter whom Mom has brought with her, as his own. But Callie is afflicted with a severe case of walking phobia. Her feet couldn't touch the ground at all. Only when she's stepping on my back can she roam around in the house freely. So, whenever Callie looks in a certain direction, Mom will press my head down and force me to crawl toward Callie to serve as her doormat. The doctor issues a warning to my family that my spine is severely contorted. So when Callie wants to admire the flowers in the yard while wearing a pair of spiked shoes again, I can't endure the pain anymore, so I shiver slightly out of instinct. Callie ends up losing her balance and falling to the ground. She bawls like a baby afterward. Mom rushes over immediately before kicking me in the gut, her high heel lodging into my flesh. "It's extremely rare for Callie to be willing to leave the house! Why must you ruin her mood? Can't you just be more understanding and play your role as a doormat for the sake of your sister's illness?" Meanwhile, Dad scoops Callie into his arms, his heart bleeding for her plight. He coaxes her gently, telling her that he'll buy her new dresses later. I can only curl up on the ground while hacking up blood. But Dad just thinks I'm playing the pity card. He commands his men to throw me into the basement. Apparently, I can only be released once I've learned to stay stationary when I'm supporting Callie. As I clutch my broken ribs, I feel my tears flowing down my face as well as the blood from my injuries. I'm sorry, Dad. Next time, I will definitely not move a muscle, just like a corpse.

Today is the death anniversary of Jordan Willis, the Alpha of the Moonshadow Pack. He's also known as my dead mate. My name is Sasha Calhoun, a she-wolf who descends from a family with a weakened bloodline. I'm also the current Luna of the Moonshadow Pack. In a world where the bloodline purity determines the status quo of werewolf society, I seem to exist solely to enter a marriage alliance with Jordan, the Alpha who comes from the most elite family with a pureblooded heritage. This is a political trade meant to strengthen Jordan's position in his family as well as reassure the Elder Council. A year ago, Alpha Jordan sacrificed himself in a blazing inferno while on a mission. I become the most pitied she-wolf in the pack who has to keep the only light on in my empty home. At the same time, I need to protect the only flicker of hope in this pack. As I carry a bouquet of white lilies, which were Alpha Jordan's favorite flowers when he was still alive, I approach his grave. The pup in my womb seems to have picked up on my emotions, for it kicks me gently. I can feel the hum of a powerful and pure-blooded lifeform from the movement. It's the lifeblood of a pup destined to become the future powerful Alpha. Even though I'm still carrying the pup, I still feel reassured and proud. But the next thing I know, I spot a wolf sinking down to one knee far away on the horizon. He appears to be proposing to my younger sister, Winnie Calhoun. Even though there's more than 300 feet between us, I can still smell the Alpha's familiar scent, which seizes me by my heart. After all, I had once immersed myself in that particular scent for countless days and nights in the past. That Alpha… is actually Alpha Jordan, who supposedly died one year ago! I instinctively clutch my belly, my palm caressing the newly-developed heartbeat of my unborn pup. Then, I call the pack guards.

My elder sister, Emma Rothschild, longs for a life of luxury. As such, she requests to marry the prince of Northia, Matias Redburn. On the other hand, I'm married off to an elven scholar visiting human territory, Aleron Glintwood. After the wedding with Emma, Matias leaves Northia and visits the giant clan's territory to establish a trade route. He's never heard of again. Meanwhile, I accompany Aleron to Empiria. He obtains a teaching position at the Royal Academy of Magic by virtue of his elven talent for magic. As for me, I become a highly envied professor's wife. Emma continues to live alone in the Northian Frozen Plains. She's later discovered to be having an affair with a human knight. When the Draconian Council of Elders exiles her from their lands, our father—Gareth Rothschild—furiously declares that he's severing ties with her. She's thus forever cut off from the Rothschild family. While I'm on my way home for the festival, Emma forcibly stops my carriage. She begs me to take her home and put in a good word for her. Along the way, she suddenly grabs the reins. As a result, the carriage goes out of control and tumbles over a cliff. When I regain consciousness, I see Emma on the floor. She's crying and demanding a change in engagement plans. At that moment, I realize that she's also been reborn. However, Emma doesn't know that life with the elves isn't as wonderful as she imagines. I immediately begin preparing for the magic academy's entrance exam. This time, I'll spare no effort to be admitted into the academy myself.

She underwent a death experience—at the hands of the family she cared for most, who then sold her off. At eight years old, Seraphina Valeza was adopted from an orphanage by the Hawthorne family, a run-down third-rate family in Lunada City. She lived for fifteen years there, always careful, thankful for a house that was not her home. She was an excellent student, kept her sufferings to herself, and obeyed them in return for their "kindness." When the Hawthorne family was on the verge of bankruptcy, they chose survival over conscience. Seraphina was forced to marry Julian Moreau, the heir of a second-rate elite family. The marriage was hell. Behind closed doors, Julian humiliated her, controlled her every move, and crushed her dignity. In public, she was paraded as a trophy wife; in private, she was nothing more than a disposable tool. Once Julian seized full control of the Hawthorne family, Seraphina lost even her last value. With no way out, she resorted to suicide. But destiny wanted otherwise and gave her another chance. She found herself in the same spot as she was on the day of her marriage. This time she did neither crying nor begging. Instead, she smiled and switched the groom. In front of stunned guests, Seraphina walked past Julian and stopped before a man sitting casually at the banquet table, dressed out of place and enjoying the food as if the wedding had nothing to do with him. Lucien Cross. The annoying guy she constantly quarreled with in college. The man who cried while carrying her dying body in her past life. The one whose love she came to realize onlqy when it was too late. This time, Seraphina will not let him go. And all those who wronged her will be punished, without exception.

‘Callie,’ he began, his voice husky, ‘crying over your ex-boyfriend won’t solve anything.’ Confusion etched across her face, Callie furrowed her brows. ‘Then what will? ’ she demanded, her voice tinged with frustration. Elias leaned closer, his warm breath caressing her cheek. ‘You need to show him what he’s lost. Find a man who’s more handsome, more powerful, and richer than him. Then, make a grand entrance into his life with your new partner.’ Callie scoffed, her eyes rolling in disbelief. ‘Where am I supposed to find someone like that? ’ Elias’s fingers gently lifted her chin, locking their gazes together. ‘I can be that man,’ he said. ‘If you agree to be with me, I’ll protect you from any harm, including your ex-boyfriend.’ ********************************************** Elias Westwood, billionaire heir turned professional solider, a commanding presence on the battlefield, conceals a tender heart that beats for only one woman——Callie Hawthorne, a fearless surgical resident, possesses an innocent charm and wields her skills like a warrior in the operating theatre. Their first encounter thrusts them into a dangerous game of deception. Elias uses Callie as a pawn, their lips locked in a passionate kiss, fooling his pursuers. In that moment, Callie feels the allure of the enigmatic soldier, and a strange connection sparks between them. An impulsive decision seals their fate—a hasty marriage to escape an arranged union and prove Callie’s readiness to move on from a past love. Little did they know, this act would propel them onto an unforeseen path. Will Elias and Callie emerge unscathed from the shadows, or will their sacrifices shatter their dreams forever? Discover their fight for a future filled with hope, trust, and the promise of a happy ending.

Ever since I was little, I knew my future mate would be one of two Alpha candidates: Mitchell or Jax. Even with all their Alpha pride, I never once doubted that set future. The pack elders always said it was natural for Alpha candidates to focus on getting stronger and controlling the pack. My mother, Lyra, even told me that every brutal fight they got into was so the winner could give me, their Luna, the ultimate honor. That is, until I and Elara – this Omega stray they'd taken in – got ambushed and captured by our old enemies, the Nightshade pack. Mitchell and Jax only had enough of the life-saving Moonpetal herb for one of us. And they both chose to give it to Elara. To save myself in that fire, I forced a shift. The power surge was too much. The heat twisted my cheekbone, and just like that, I was disfigured. After they dragged me out – like an afterthought – I watched those two future Alphas crying over Elara, who didn't have a scratch on her. "Thank the Moon Goddess, Elara, you're alive." "Once we sort out who's the new Alpha of Blackwood, whoever it is will give you the most honored spot right under the Luna, Elara. Don't you worry. We'll give you the best of everything our pack has, make sure you never suffer again." "Elara, you're the real Luna in our hearts." When I came to, I cut off that ridiculous mate bond for good. Empty promises and a trampled destiny? I was done with it. But after I left, they stayed by my cave every day, begging me to come back.

On the day we finalized our college applications, I chose Cromwell University. The moment my brother saw it, his expression turned icy. Before I even understood what was happening, everything went black. When I woke up, I was trapped inside a glass box. All because our cousin Wendy had failed to get into Cromwell. To make it up to her, he ordered his men to carry me to an underground auction, putting me on display for a hundred strangers to gawk at for entertainment. I pounded on the glass, crying and begging for someone, anyone, to let me out. No one came. Men gathered around, their gazes shameless and invasive, murmuring to each other as if I were an object, something to be assessed and priced. My brother stood among them, watching. Then he smiled. "You brought this on yourself," he said lightly. "You had everything, our parents' support and my protection, and still you went after Wendy. You even had someone threaten her. "Because of you, she missed her exams. Because of you, she lost Cromwell." He took a step closer, his voice turning colder. "Your life's been too easy. It's time you learned what it feels like to be humiliated." I sank to the floor of the glass box, my body trembling, my mind going blank. While I was being reduced to nothing, he booked an entire resort in Wendy's honor, hosting a grand celebration for her acceptance to Halvard University. Later, when our parents called and asked him to bring me along, his assistant interrupted with a message. "Mr. Lawson… the police have confirmed Miss Kelly's death."