Zodiak 19 April

There's this unspoken rule in werewolf high society: no matter how tight the mate bond is, business banquets mean booking a hostess. Six years into our bond, my Alpha mate—Brian Stormclaw—met one. Louise. A scrappy Omega with too much pride and not enough sense. When he offered her his black card, she pushed it back and said, "I'm not some Alpha's pampered pet." Brian? Instantly hooked. Like the Moon Goddess herself had dropped her in his lap. He chased her like he wanted her mark on every pack crest. But he forgot something—I was the Luna he wrote ninety-nine love letters to before I said yes. I didn't beg. Didn't snap. Every time he chose her over me, I lit another letter. First one burned on our anniversary—he bailed to wait outside Louise's flower shop, just to walk her home. Letter thirty-four? He left me stranded in a dangerous hunting ground to keep her company. Said she was scared of the dark. Fifty-two? Torched the second he replaced our wedding photo with some sketch she made on. ... And when the ninety-ninth turned to ash, so did whatever was left of us. I walked away. For good.

Ketika kandunganku menginjak sembilan bulan dan hampir siap melahirkan, suamiku, Arga Baskara, justru memerintahkan orang mengunciku di gudang bawah tanah dan menyuruhku menahan agar bayi itu tidak lahir. Karena istri almarhum kakaknya, Indri Magani, juga diperkirakan akan melahirkan hari ini. Arga pernah berjanji pada kakaknya bahwa anak pertama yang lahir dalam Keluarga Baskara akan dididik sebagai penerus dan menerima warisan keluarga. "Anak Indri harus lahir lebih dulu," kata Arga dengan tenang. "Dia kehilangan suaminya dan nggak punya apa-apa. Sementara kamu sudah memiliki semua cintaku, memberikan harta kepada anaknya adalah hal yang seharusnya." Kontraksi membuatku kesakitan sampai berguling-guling, aku menangis memohon padanya untuk membawaku ke rumah sakit. Arga mengusap air mataku dengan lembut, suaranya rendah dan mengandung bahaya. "Jangan berpura-pura! Aku sudah lama tahu kamu sama sekali nggak mencintaiku. Satu-satunya yang kamu pedulikan adalah kekayaan dan kedudukan." "Kamu sengaja mau melahirkan prematur hanya untuk merebut hak keponakanku... Bagaimana bisa kamu begitu kejam?" Wajahku pucat dan seluruh tubuhku gemetar. Aku berkata dengan suara pelan, "Aku nggak bisa mengendalikan kapan anak ini akan lahir, kelahiran prematur hanyalah kebetulan! Aku bersumpah, aku nggak peduli sama harta, aku hanya mencintaimu!" Arga tertawa sinis. "Kalau kamu mencintaiku, kamu nggak akan memaksa Indri menandatangani kontrak untuk melepaskan hak waris untuk anaknya. Oke, setelah dia melahirkan, aku akan kembali menemuimu. Bagaimanapun juga, yang ada di perutmu adalah darah dagingku sendiri." Arga menunggu di luar ruang bersalin Indri. Setelah melihat bayi yang baru lahir itu, barulah dia teringat padaku. Dia menyuruh sekretaris menjemputku ke rumah sakit, tetapi sekretaris itu dengan suara gemetar berkata, "Nyonya... dan bayinya... sudah meninggal..." Pada saat itu, Arga menjadi gila.

Pada malam hari jadi pernikahan kami yang keenam, aku tersipu dan menghindari ciuman panas suamiku, Arga, lalu mendorongnya untuk meraih pengaman di meja samping tempat tidur. Di dalamnya, ada kejutan yang aku siapkan, alat tes kehamilan yang menunjukkan hasil positif. Aku membayangkan senyum seperti apa yang akan dia tunjukkan saat menemukannya. Namun, tepat saat dia hendak meraih laci, ponselnya berdering. Suara sahabatnya, Omar, terdengar dari gagang telepon, berbicara dalam bahasa Jerman. “Pak Arga, semalam bagaimana rasanya? Apa sofa erotis baru dari perusahaan kita nyaman?” Arga terkekeh pelan dan menjawab dalam bahasa Jerman, “Fungsi pijatnya berfungsi dengan baik, jadi aku tidak perlu memijat punggung Hanna lagi.” Dia masih memelukku erat, tapi tatapannya seolah menembusku, menatap seseorang yang lain. “Hanya kita berdua yang tahu tentang ini. Kalau istriku tahu aku tidur dengan adiknya, mampus aku.” Hatiku serasa ditusuk dengan keras. Mereka tidak tahu kalau aku mengambil mata kuliah minor Bahasa Jerman di perguruan tinggi, jadi aku mengerti setiap katanya. Aku memaksakan diri untuk tetap tenang, tetapi tanganku yang melingkari lehernya sedikit gemetar. Saat itu, aku akhirnya memutuskan untuk menerima undangan dari proyek penelitian internasional. Tiga hari kemudian, aku akan lenyap sepenuhnya dari dunia Arga.

Di malam peringatan sembilan tahun pernikahan kami, suamiku yang bernama Felix Tosa, pria yang di siang hari menguasai keluarga mafia dan di malam hari menguasai hatiku, tidak memberiku setangkai mawar pun. Dia malah memberikannya pada Celine, asisten pribadinya. Di bawah lampu gantung tempat kami pernah berdansa saat baru menikah, dia menoleh padaku dengan pesona dingin yang dulu pernah membisikkan kata cinta di telingaku. “Dia hamil,” katanya, seolah itu sudah cukup sebagai penjelasan. “Dan dia sangat pilih-pilih soal makanan. Mulai sekarang, kamu yang harus menyiapkan makanan tiga kali sehari untuknya, nggak boleh ada menu yang berulang.” “Dia juga sensitif, nggak suka tidur sendirian. Jadi, kamu harus pindah ke kamar tamu.” Ruangan itu sunyi senyap. Aku tidak berteriak, tidak juga menangis. Aku hanya mengambil koper yang sudah kubereskan, lalu berjalan menuju pintu. Kepala pelayan mencoba menahanku, tapi Felix bahkan tak berkedip sedikit pun. “Dia pasti balik lagi,” katanya malas, sambil menggoyangkan gelas anggur. “Dalam waktu tiga hari, dia akan menangis dan memohon padaku.” Tamu-tamu pun tertawa terbahak-bahak. Mereka bertaruh satu juta dolar di depan mataku. Bertaruh bahwa aku bahkan tak akan sanggup melewati malam ini dan akan kembali memohon seperti anjing jalanan yang kehilangan harga diri, memohon agar Felix membiarkanku masuk ke rumah. Namun, mereka tidak tahu bahwa aku sudah menerima lambang keluarga dari ayah kandungku yang sebenarnya dan tiket pesawat pun sudah kupesan. Kali ini, aku benar-benar akan pergi.

On the night of our ninth wedding anniversary, my husband—Damian Grant, the man who ruled the mafia by day and once ruled my heart by night—did not bring me roses. He gave the bouquet that should have been mine to Serena Lane, his personal assistant. Beneath the chandelier where we once danced on our wedding night, he turned to me with that same cold charm he once used to whisper sweet nothings in my ear. “She's pregnant.” Finally, everything fell into place. “She's a picky eater. From today onward, you’ll cook three meals a day for her. And no repeats. “She’s sensitive and hates sleeping alone, so you’ll need to move your things into the guest room.” The room fell silent. I did not raise my voice, nor did I shed a single tear. I simply picked up my packed suitcase and walked to the door. The butler tried to stop me, but Damian did not even blink. “She’ll come back.” He lazily swirled the wine in his glass. “She’ll come back crying and begging within three days.” Our guests burst out laughing. They placed a million-dollar bet right in front of me. They were betting on whether I would be back before the night was over, begging Damian to let me back in like a pathetic stray dog with my tail between my legs. However, they did not know I had already received the family heirloom from my real father. I booked my flight to get far, far away from everyone I used to know. This time, I really left.

I train so hard that even in my sleep, I recite medical formulas. At long last, victory is mine! I am the champion of the Healers' Competition. But just as they place the trophy in my hands, my twin sister, Sasha Flanders, strides onto the stage and snatches it away. With brazen conviction, she declares, "I'm the true champion! My sister swapped the competitor's information to steal this honor from me!" The audience gasps in an uproar. Before my stunned eyes, the judges revoke my title on the spot. I don't yet realize that this competition is no ordinary contest—it is the Alpha King Leonard Muller's secret trial, one that is meant to select his future Luna Queen. Rumor paints him as monstrous—hideous of face, bloodthirsty in nature, and treats women as nothing more than breeding machines. It is said this is why he has never taken a mate. His summons arrived this very night, commanding Sasha to attend the coronation ceremony as Luna Queen. My Beta fiance, Timothy Newsom, turns ashen with rage. The next day, Sasha comes to flaunt herself before me, her neck freshly marked, carrying Timothy's scent. "Oh, my poor sister. Your precious fiance marked me. What will you do now? You're turning 25 in three days. By our pack's law, if no one claims you, you'll be thrown to the impotent, deranged, and broken wolves no one else will have. You'll be worse than trash." Her shrill laughter cracks in my ears, squeezing the breath from my chest. But I will not let that break me. I went straight to my parents. "If Sasha dares not to be Luna Queen… then let me take her place."

I was nine months along and ready to give birth, but my husband, Sean Conner, had me locked in the basement storage room and told me to hold the baby in. He said it was because his late brother’s wife, Quinn Faber, was also due today. Years ago, Sean and his brother had agreed that the first child born to the Conners would be raised as the heir and inherit the family inheritance. “Quinn’s baby must come first,” Sean said as if it were nothing. “She lost her husband and has nothing. You already have my love. It’s only right that the inheritance goes to her child.” The pain from the contractions folded me over, and I cried, begging him to take me to the hospital. He wiped my tears with a dangerously calm voice. “Stop the act,” he snapped. “I always knew you didn’t love me. All you care about is money and status. You forced labor to happen early so you could steal my nephew’s place… How can you be so cruel?” White-faced and shaking, I managed to whisper, “I can’t control when a baby comes. It’s a coincidence. I swear I don’t care about the inheritance. I love you!” He let out a cold laugh. “If you loved me, you wouldn’t have pushed Quinn to sign that contract relinquishing her child’s inheritance. Fine. Once she has her baby, I’ll come back for you. After all, the child in your belly is my blood.” Sean stayed outside Quinn’s delivery room. Only after the newborn arrived did he remember me. He ordered his secretary to take me to the hospital, but the secretary’s voice trembled as he said. “Madam… and the baby… They’re both gone…” At that moment, Sean lost his mind.

El día que íbamos a casarnos, mi novio, Damián Cruz, envió a unos hombres para que me echaran del registro civil y entró del brazo de Luna Mendoza. Al verme sentada en el suelo, paralizada por la incredulidad, ni siquiera pestañeó y dijo: —El hijo de Luna necesita un apellido presentable para el futuro, para que pueda acceder a los círculos de élite y los mejores colegios. Es solo un trámite. Una vez que solucionemos esto, me caso contigo. Todo el mundo pensó que yo, la siempre devota, aceptaría esperarle obedientemente otro mes más. Después de todo, ya lo había esperado durante siete años. Pero esa noche, hice algo impensable: Acepté el matrimonio que habían arreglado mis padres y me fui del país directamente. Tres años después, regresé a visitar a mis padres. Mi marido, Vicente del Toro, era ahora el presidente de una corporación multinacional. Como tenía una reunión urgente de última hora, envió a un empleado de la sucursal local a recogerme al aeropuerto. Y para mi sorpresa, ese subordinado era nada más y nada menos que Damián, a quien no veía desde hacía tres años. Sus ojos se clavaron al instante en la deslumbrante pulsera de mi muñeca: —¿Esta es la copia barata de la pulsera por la que el señor del Toro pagó cinco millones para su esposa? Nunca pensé que te volverías tan superficial estos años. —Ya basta de rabietas. Vuelve. El hijo de Luna ya está en edad escolar, serás perfecta para llevarlo y traerlo. No dije nada, solo acaricié la pulsera. Él no sabía que esta era la más barata de todas las que Vicente me había regalado.

Napailing c Jillian Ng titigan Ang lalaki sa kanyang tabi Saka dahan dahang tumayo at kinuha Ang mga damit na NASA ibaba Saka nagbihis sa banyo.

On our sixth wedding anniversary, my cheeks burn as I dodge my husband, Ethan Grant, leaning in for a hungry kiss. I push him toward the nightstand for a rubber. What he doesn't know is that I've tucked a surprise in there, a positive pregnancy test. I can already see it, the way his whole face will light up the second he finds it. But the moment his hand goes for the drawer, his phone goes off. His best friend, Henry Miller, comes on the line in Danish. "Mr. Grant, how was last night? That new love couch our company rolled out is treating you okay?" Ethan lets out a low laugh and answers in Danish, "The massage feature's great. Saves me from having to rub Sandy's back myself." He still has me pulled tight against him, but his eyes look straight through me, like he's seeing someone else. "This stays between us. If my wife ever finds out I slept with her sister, I'm done." It feels like someone just put a knife through my chest. What they don't know is that I minored in Danish in college, so I catch every single word. I force myself to stay calm, but the arms I have looped around Ethan's neck won't stop shaking. At that moment, I stop hesitating and decide I'll take the offer from that international research project. Three days from now, I'll be gone from Ethan's world for good.