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On our seventh wedding anniversary, I was straddling my Mafia husband, Lucian, kissing him deeply. My fingers fumbled in the pocket of my expensive silk dress, searching for the pregnancy test I'd hidden there. I wanted to save the news of my unexpected pregnancy for the end of the evening. Lucian's right-hand man, Marco, asked with a suggestive smile in Italian: "Don, your new little canary, Sophia. How does she taste?" Lucian's mocking laughter vibrated through my chest, sending a chill down my spine. He replied, also in Italian: "Like an unripe peach. Fresh and tender." His hand was still caressing my waist, but his gaze was distant. "Just keep this between us. If my Donna finds out, I'm a dead man." His men chuckled knowingly, raising their glasses and swearing their silence. The warmth in my blood turned to ice, inch by inch. The one thing they didn’t know was that my grandmother was from Sicily, so I understood every word. I forced myself to remain calm, keeping the perfect smile of a Donna fixed in place, but the hand holding my champagne flute trembled. Instead of making a scene, I opened my phone, found the invitation I had received a few days ago for a private international medical research project, and tapped "Accept." In three days, I would disappear from Lucian's world completely.

I'm the only sister of Ronan Mooncrest, Alpha of Mooncrest Pack. For as long as I can remember, Cassian, our Delta, Orion, our Gamma, and Nikolai, our Beta, swore they'd die before letting anyone hurt me. When I wanted the moon, they built me a tower. When the river was freezing and I refused to go home, they carried me across on their backs. I was their princess—the wolf they spoiled rotten and loved down to the bone. And of course, I loved them too. I was sure one of them had to be my mate. Then Dana came to Mooncrest. An outsider she-wolf. Bold. Gorgeous. Untouchable. No joke cracked her. No stare made her blush. On her first day, she challenged our pack warriors one by one. After that, Cassian started saying I was spoiled. The first time he left me shaking in a storm just to walk Dana home, Orion and Nikolai snapped at him. "Cassian, you're choosing her. Don't cry when you regret it." But soon, Orion got pulled in too. At my birthday party, I looked at the only one still beside me—Nikolai—and my eyes burned. "Nikolai... is this my fault?" He kissed my hair. "Don't go there. They're idiots. They don't know what they're losing." Then I saw him put the moonstone crown he'd promised me on Dana's head. Just to make her smile. Eyes red, chest wrecked, I knocked on Ronan's door. "Mooncrest is sending someone to Frostfang in three days. Let it be me.

In the fog-choked steam city of Verlock, Chloe Ashborne survives a brutal family massacre and hides herself as a disfigured, mute maid sneaking into the obsidian Clock Tower Manor—the stronghold of the cold and powerful Duke Liam. Covered in wax scars and pretending to be timid and clumsy, she hides her true identity as the last heir of the Ashborne mechanical clan, a master toxic healer, top gear decoder, and deadly combat fighter. Her only goal is to retrieve the sealed case files that record the truth of her family's murder from the manor's confidential machine room. As she lurks in the shadows, she repeatedly arouses Liam's suspicion and curiosity. She narrowly escapes frame-up and fatal traps set by the jealous captain of the female guards, saves Liam from fatal steam poison and assassin attacks, and secretly controls the manor's defense gear system in crisis. While the line between hatred and attraction blurs, Chloe's layered disguises are gradually stripped away one by one. When she finally breaks into the secret chamber to obtain the files, she falls into a carefully laid trap, and her true face and identity are completely exposed to Liam. The two fall into misunderstanding and confrontation, until the real murderer behind the massacre launches a full-scale attack on Clock Tower. Standing amid fire, gunsmoke and collapsing steam machinery, Chloe and Liam lay down their hatred, fight side by side to defeat the evil guild, uncover the buried truth, and turn a revenge disguise into a fated love bonded by gears, steam and redemption.

"My husband, Victor Shaw, once asked me to have my uterus removed so we could stay child-free together. Ten years later, he brought home a pair of adopted twins, a boy and a girl, and told me to raise them well. I said yes. From that day on, I devoted myself to those two children. When they turned eighteen, they were accepted into the most prestigious universities in the country. At their graduation party, Victor handed me a property transfer agreement and asked me to put all my assets in the twins’ names. I agreed. Just as I picked up the pen to sign, my mother pulled me aside, her face full of worry. “Lana, those two children came out of nowhere. You can’t hand your entire fortune over to them.” I said calmly, “Mom, I trust my own judgment.” My mother broke down and dropped to her knees, begging me not to be a fool. When my father realized he couldn’t talk me out of it, he slapped me across the face in fury. “You stupid woman. You’re going to ruin this family.” Then he stormed out and slammed the door behind him. I signed my name. Victor burst into satisfied laughter. Then he affectionately wrapped his arm around another woman’s waist. The woman tossed a divorce agreement at me. “Lana Grant, thank you for taking care of Victor and our children all these years. Now it’s time for you to give them back to me so our family of four can finally be reunited.” I smiled faintly. “Of course.”"

Don't move. Your dress isn't on properly." Alpha Leo Stonewell lifted a hand to adjust my ceremonial gown. But the next second, the words that came out of his mouth sent a chill down my spine. "Layla, let Lilith wear this dress instead. Don't show up at our marking ceremony on the night of the full moon. She'll take your place then." I looked up immediately. "Have you lost your mind?" He sighed softly as if to suggest I was being unreasonable. "Lilith is just an Omega in the pack. I can't bear to let her stay with me without a rightful title. Tomorrow, I'll officially mark her during the ceremony." The northern wind sliced across my face. It felt bitterly cold, but it could hardly compare to the freezing ache in my chest. "We're supposed to become mates tomorrow. If you're going to mark her, then what did the past ten years between us even mean?" Leo frowned. Impatience crept into his voice. "Your wolf spirit has been dormant all this time. To the other werewolves in the pack, you're no different from an Omega. Layla, don't worry. Even if I mark her, I'll still take care of you for the rest of your life. Let her have this marking ceremony. Lilith is young and beautiful. She can't handle being wronged." My face slowly drained of color. If this Alpha thought I wasn't as young or beautiful as Lilith Lambert, then I didn't want him as my mate either

"Don't move. Your dress isn't on properly." Alpha Leo Stonewell lifted a hand to adjust my ceremonial gown. But the next second, the words that came out of his mouth sent a chill down my spine. "Layla, let Lilith wear this dress instead. Don't show up at our marking ceremony on the night of the full moon. She'll take your place then." I looked up immediately. "Have you lost your mind?" He sighed softly as if to suggest I was being unreasonable. "Lilith is just an Omega in the pack. I can't bear to let her stay with me without a rightful title. Tomorrow, I'll officially mark her during the ceremony." The northern wind sliced across my face. It felt bitterly cold, but it could hardly compare to the freezing ache in my chest. "We're supposed to become mates tomorrow. If you're going to mark her, then what did the past ten years between us even mean?" Leo frowned. Impatience crept into his voice. "Your wolf spirit has been dormant all this time. To the other werewolves in the pack, you're no different from an Omega. Layla, don't worry. Even if I mark her, I'll still take care of you for the rest of your life. Let her have this marking ceremony. Lilith is young and beautiful. She can't handle being wronged." My face slowly drained of color. If this Alpha thought I wasn't as young or beautiful as Lilith Lambert, then I didn't want him as my mate either.

It is said that Marco Colombo, the heir of the Colombo family of Chiron, is holding a wedding for his mistress, Gina Bilotti, today. The scale is ten times grander than when he marries Isabella Pratico in a political union. I lean against the ebony railing on the second floor. Sipping my red wine, I watch the lively scene of clinking glasses and mingling guests below with quiet amusement. Gina is definitely favored—she is even wearing a ruby necklace. One should know that set of ruby jewelry is an heirloom of the Colombo family. It is something only the Donna and the wife of the heir are allowed to wear. "You must be Isabella, the one Marco who does not love." A voice suddenly comes from beside me. I turn my head and see the woman wearing the ruby necklace before me. Gina has come up to the second floor at some point and is now looking at me with a cunning smile on her face. I freeze for a moment, not yet able to respond. She suddenly grabs my hand and yanks it hard toward herself. There is a sharp tearing sound, and the hem of her wedding dress rips open with a long tear. Gina lets out a cry, and tears immediately stream down her face. "Mrs. Colombo, why did you tear my wedding dress? Marco specially commissioned this from an independent designer just for our wedding! "If you really cannot tolerate my presence, then I will break up with Marco today and leave Chiron…" The surrounding guests all lift their heads and glare at me angrily. I am stunned because I am not Isabella. I am the new wife of Marco's father, the woman of the current Don, and the Donna of the Colombo family.

After our eighty-eighth canceled wedding, I called my business partner. "I'm taking the Haviana market project." There was a beat of stunned silence. "Seriously? That's ten years overseas. You just got married—well, weren't you? Does your husband even know? What about your parents? You always said staying close to them was everything." I glanced around the empty church and let out a sharp laugh. "There was no wedding. No husband. And my parents? They've got Cindy. That's all they need." Another pause. "Alright. Pack your bags. You leave tomorrow." After the call, I ran a hand down my wedding dress. One last tear slipped out, quiet and pointless. Cindy had another "episode" today. Claimed she'd off herself. Andrew canceled—again. I'd looked at him, drained. "It's the eighty-eighth time." He dropped his head, guilt all over him. "Just a little more time, Viv. She's been off since the accident. I'm scared she'll actually do it. I swear, I'll talk to her. For real this time. Then we'll get married. Promise." My parents didn't hesitate. "Vivian, let Andrew go. If Cindy hadn't gotten kidnapped trying to save you, she wouldn't have these breakdowns. Are you really putting a wedding over your sister's life?" "How could you be so selfish?" I'd heard it all before. Used to fight it. Not this time. If neither my fiancé nor my parents wanted me around, then fine. I'd leave.

"My husband, Victor Shaw, once asked me to have my uterus removed so we could stay child-free together. Ten years later, he brought home a pair of adopted twins, a boy and a girl, and told me to raise them well. I said yes. From that day on, I devoted myself to those two children. When they turned eighteen, they were accepted into the most prestigious universities in the country. At their graduation party, Victor handed me a property transfer agreement and asked me to put all my assets in the twins’ names. I agreed. Just as I picked up the pen to sign, my mother pulled me aside, her face full of worry. “Lana, those two children came out of nowhere. You can’t hand your entire fortune over to them.” I said calmly, “Mom, I trust my own judgment.” My mother broke down and dropped to her knees, begging me not to be a fool. When my father realized he couldn’t talk me out of it, he slapped me across the face in fury. “You stupid woman. You’re going to ruin this family.” Then he stormed out and slammed the door behind him. I signed my name. Victor burst into satisfied laughter. Then he affectionately wrapped his arm around another woman’s waist. The woman tossed a divorce agreement at me. “Lana Grant, thank you for taking care of Victor and our children all these years. Now it’s time for you to give them back to me so our family of four can finally be reunited.” I smiled faintly. “Of course.”"

The day the Royal Academy's screening results came out, the twin Alpha heirs — Julian and Damien — stood in front of me. Each of them was holding an application form. "Ivy. Have you decided whose name you're putting on that form?" In my previous life, I chose Julian for love. I gave up my direct admission to the Royal Academy and stayed behind in the pack with him and Celeste — his childhood-friend Omega who'd failed the screening — to help them train for another year. I thought that was what it meant to go through hardship together. That was love. But the pack laughed at Celeste — an Omega who thought she could get into the combat track at the Royal Academy. She couldn't stand the gossip, ran off alone, and was killed by rogue wolves. Julian threw me into the silver pit — the pit our pack used to execute traitors. Silver burns a wolf's flesh like acid. "If you hadn't been so desperate to cling to me, I could've focused on protecting Celeste. She wouldn't be dead!" "Ivy Hale — all of this is your fault. You ruined us." He poured silver down my throat. I died thrashing in agony. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day the screening results were announced. This time, I slipped my arm through Damien's and gave the brightest smile I had. "Let's apply to the Royal Academy together." Julian let out a quiet, relieved breath and turned to go find his Omega. He didn't see the way Damien's hand tightened around mine — or the obsession and ambition he couldn't quite hide behind his eyes.

My younger sister and I spent ten years fighting over Rowan Vale, the Alpha of Silver Ridge Pack. In my first life, I became his mate. Everyone said he was obsessed with me. Why else would he keep me carrying litters for seven years and give Silver Ridge six heirs? When I went into labor with the seventh, I nearly bled out. Rowan sent the healers away and forced wolfsbane down my throat himself. Only then did he tell me the truth. If it were not for the fact that only a daughter of the Hart bloodline could bear pureblood Alpha heirs, he said, he never would have claimed me at all. I had been useful for one thing only: giving him heirs. Now that he had enough, I had none. I died hating him. In my second life, I handed the bond papers from Silver Ridge Pack to my sister. “Go,” I told her. “You’re the one he wants.” Five years later, she was sent back to me half-starved, shaking, and marked by restraints. Through sobs, she told me Rowan had never loved her either. He had kept her because she was still a Hart daughter, because she could give him heirs, and because her scent could calm him during rut. She died less than two months later. When I opened my eyes again, I was in my third life. The unsigned bond papers from Silver Ridge Pack lay on the table between us, and my sister and I could only stare at each other. Who, exactly, did that Alpha want?

I was born broken. My Alpha mother was the one who branded me. She said emotion was a sin. A weakness. Especially for a werewolf. Especially for an Alpha’s heir. The day we were born, she clamped emotion-suppressing collars around our necks. Mine and my twin sister's. The slightest flicker of emotion, and the collar flashed red. My mother would then push the button, injecting me with a diluted "silver solution" to suppress my feelings. But my sister Cassia's collar? Always a calm, steady blue. Even when she shattered Mom's precious moonstone, it just pulsed gently. And me? I’d just whisper, "Mom, the thunder scares me," and my collar would erupt in a violent red. Then came the sting of silver poison burning through my blood.. I used to argue. But Mom always said the same thing. "The data doesn't lie. Pain is a teacher. This is for your own good." After thousands of these injections, I started to believe it, too. That I was born out of control. The night of the alliance's Moon Goddess Festival, Mom was taking my sister to the rooftop party. Something scared me during the day. The collar flashed red, and my mother started the punishment. But this time, the collar malfunctioned. It shot a dose a thousand times stronger into my neck. I collapsed on the carpet, begging, "Mother, the collar... it hurts so much... help me." My collar was flashing a frantic red. My mother just looked down at me, drenched in a cold sweat, and pressed the button for the maximum dose. "You'd lose control like this just for attention? You're a lost cause." She turned, took my sister, and slammed the door. I couldn't help but think, Mom must be right. The collar is red. It doesn't really hurt. I'm just being dramatic, looking for pity again. I'm sorry, Mom. In my next life, I'll be the perfect daughter you always wanted.

I was born broken. My Alpha mother was the one who branded me. She said emotion was a sin. A weakness. Especially for a werewolf. Especially for an Alpha’s heir. The day we were born, she clamped emotion-suppressing collars around our necks. Mine and my twin sister's. The slightest flicker of emotion, and the collar flashed red. My mother would then push the button, injecting me with a diluted "silver solution" to suppress my feelings. But my sister Cassia's collar? Always a calm, steady blue. Even when she shattered Mom's precious moonstone, it just pulsed gently. And me? I’d just whisper, "Mom, the thunder scares me," and my collar would erupt in a violent red. Then came the sting of silver poison burning through my blood.. I used to argue. But Mom always said the same thing. "The data doesn't lie. Pain is a teacher. This is for your own good." After thousands of these injections, I started to believe it, too. That I was born out of control. The night of the alliance's Moon Goddess Festival, Mom was taking my sister to the rooftop party. Something scared me during the day. The collar flashed red, and my mother started the punishment. But this time, the collar malfunctioned. It shot a dose a thousand times stronger into my neck. I collapsed on the carpet, begging, "Mother, the collar... it hurts so much... help me." My collar was flashing a frantic red. My mother just looked down at me, drenched in a cold sweat, and pressed the button for the maximum dose. "You'd lose control like this just for attention? You're a lost cause." She turned, took my sister, and slammed the door. I couldn't help but think, Mom must be right. The collar is red. It doesn't really hurt. I'm just being dramatic, looking for pity again. I'm sorry, Mom. In my next life, I'll be the perfect daughter you always wanted.

I was born broken. My Alpha mother was the one who branded me. She said emotion was a sin. A weakness. Especially for a werewolf. Especially for an Alpha’s heir. The day we were born, she clamped emotion-suppressing collars around our necks. Mine and my twin sister's. The slightest flicker of emotion, and the collar flashed red. My mother would then push the button, injecting me with a diluted "silver solution" to suppress my feelings. But my sister Cassia's collar? Always a calm, steady blue. Even when she shattered Mom's precious moonstone, it just pulsed gently. And me? I’d just whisper, "Mom, the thunder scares me," and my collar would erupt in a violent red. Then came the sting of silver poison burning through my blood.. I used to argue. But Mom always said the same thing. "The data doesn't lie. Pain is a teacher. This is for your own good." After thousands of these injections, I started to believe it, too. That I was born out of control. The night of the alliance's Moon Goddess Festival, Mom was taking my sister to the rooftop party. Something scared me during the day. The collar flashed red, and my mother started the punishment. But this time, the collar malfunctioned. It shot a dose a thousand times stronger into my neck. I collapsed on the carpet, begging, "Mother, the collar... it hurts so much... help me." My collar was flashing a frantic red. My mother just looked down at me, drenched in a cold sweat, and pressed the button for the maximum dose. "You'd lose control like this just for attention? You're a lost cause." She turned, took my sister, and slammed the door. I couldn't help but think, Mom must be right. The collar is red. It doesn't really hurt. I'm just being dramatic, looking for pity again. I'm sorry, Mom. In my next life, I'll be the perfect daughter you always wanted.

On my eighteenth birthday, the High King summoned the heirs of the four great clans—the Vampires, the Werewolves, the High Serpent Clan, and the Merfolk. He laid their portraits before me and said, "Choose one to be your bondmate." I did not hesitate. I pointed to Damon—the werewolf with no noble bloodline, born in a forgotten corner of the realm. The entire court erupted in disbelief. Everyone knew who I used to love. Alpha Iris—the heir of the most powerful Lycan bloodline. For seven years, I chased him with blind devotion. No matter how harshly he treated me, I never gave up. I confessed to him over and over, sometimes right in the royal court. I even performed a blood-binding ritual—slitting my wrist—to earn the right to marry him. In my previous life, I got what I wanted—I married him and we performed the mate bonding ceremony. With that union, he inherited the High King's resources and rose to become the ruler of all four clans. However, what I did not expect was that after our wedding, he turned around and marked my adoptive sister. My parents were furious and sent her away. From that day on, Iris hated me with a vengeance. He surrounded himself with women who all looked eerily like her. One by one, they came—each more vicious than the last. With his silent approval, they tore me down, piece by piece, until I was nothing more than a joke—no longer the queen I once was. The suffering pushed me into severe depression. Only suppressants keep my wolf form from spiraling out of control. Until one day, my medication was replaced with a slow-acting poison. He was the one who did it. I died alone, locked away in the cold palace, a child still growing inside me. However, fate gave me another chance. In this life, I would not make the same mistake. When the High King once again asked me to choose a partner for the marriage alliance, I chose Damon—the one no one ever noticed—without even blinking.

The moment we witness the last surviving child in the safehouse getting pinned to the wall by a zombie before having his guts torn out, all the men in the team break down mentally. "Captain, didn't you claim that Selene kept rambling nonsense because she had gone crazy out of fright toward the zombies? Isn't that why you reassured us to keep watch while you and Madeline watched the sunrise on the summit? "Why is it that my newborn has already gotten devoured by a zombie as soon as I return to the safehouse?" Quinton Morwood goes deathly pale at the accusation. My heart feels as though it's gotten torn into pieces as I stare at the tragedy. In my previous life, when the zombies attacked the safehouse, Quinton, who was the captain of the defence team, had taken the entire team with him just so he could watch the sunrise with Madeline Moore at the mountain summit. I did everything I could to summon everyone back to the base. That was how everyone's lives were spared from the zombie attack. But Madeline was pissed that she did't get to watch the sunrise, so she left the safezone angrily on her own. That was how she got grabbed by a zombie and eaten by a horde. By the time Quinton and his squad killed the entire horde, he just hugged Madeline's femur to his chest without saying a single word. On the day I gave birth to my baby, Quinton hacked my limbs off before throwing me into the roaming hordes of zombies. I could only watch as the zombies tore my flesh off my bones before Quinton saved me again by healing me. The cycle kept going on and on until I witnessed the last piece of flesh being torn off my body. "You're the one who killed Madeline, you wretched woman! Since you like competing with her that much, I'll make sure you'll die a worse death than hers!" When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day the zombies are attacking the safezone.

On my eighteenth birthday, the High King summoned the heirs of the four great clans—the Vampires, the Werewolves, the High Serpent Clan, and the Merfolk. He laid their portraits before me and said, "Choose one to be your bondmate." I did not hesitate. I pointed to Damon—the werewolf with no noble bloodline, born in a forgotten corner of the realm. The entire court erupted in disbelief. Everyone knew who I used to love. Alpha Iris—the heir of the most powerful Lycan bloodline. For seven years, I chased him with blind devotion. No matter how harshly he treated me, I never gave up. I confessed to him over and over, sometimes right in the royal court. I even performed a blood-binding ritual—slitting my wrist—to earn the right to marry him. In my previous life, I got what I wanted—I married him and we performed the mate bonding ceremony. With that union, he inherited the High King's resources and rose to become the ruler of all four clans. However, what I did not expect was that after our wedding, he turned around and marked my adoptive sister. My parents were furious and sent her away. From that day on, Iris hated me with a vengeance. He surrounded himself with women who all looked eerily like her. One by one, they came—each more vicious than the last. With his silent approval, they tore me down, piece by piece, until I was nothing more than a joke—no longer the queen I once was. The suffering pushed me into severe depression. Only suppressants keep my wolf form from spiraling out of control. Until one day, my medication was replaced with a slow-acting poison. He was the one who did it. I died alone, locked away in the cold palace, a child still growing inside me. However, fate gave me another chance. In this life, I would not make the same mistake. When the High King once again asked me to choose a partner for the marriage alliance, I chose Damon—the one no one ever noticed—without even blinking.

I have been bound to Ryan Hardin for nine years. He is pureblood, the Alpha of Silverfang Pack. And I… I was chosen as nothing more than a “temporary Luna,” a political pawn to steady the pack’s power. In those nine years, he betrayed me countless times. The first time, on my birthday, he announced that the celebration belonged to another she-wolf he had just met. The second time, I brewed medicine for his injuries, only to be accused by the Elders of bewitching the Alpha. He didn’t defend me—instead, he ordered me to be whipped in front of the entire pack. The third time, I was three months pregnant. He stood there, watching as his childhood sweetheart pushed me down the stone steps. I lost our pup that day. Nine years. Three thousand two hundred nights. I endured his indifference, his humiliation, his contempt. Last night, at the Silverfang Pack’s full-moon feast, he openly entwined his hand with a young Omega’s while I sat abandoned at the far end of the Alpha’s table. Every gaze cut into me—wolves whispering, mocking, savoring the spectacle. It was his 200th betrayal. When the feast ended, Ryan didn’t even look at me. His words were sharper than fangs: “Don’t forget, your Luna title is only temporary.” At dawn, he descended the Alpha’s staircase, his voice cold and commanding as if I were a servant: “Prepare the council’s tea. Now.” I met his gaze without flinching, my voice steady, stripped of all submission. “I’m sorry, Alpha. That is no longer my duty.” He seems to forget—we were never bound by a mark. Ours was an agreement, nothing more. And today marks the third-to-last day before that agreement ends. I gathered the Luna emblem, the wedding ring, and our only wedding photo—and burned them all. In three days, I’ll leave this pack. I will return to the secluded Herbal Academy, reclaim my research. And this time, when I walk away, I will never return.