

Lorna Grant is brought into the household as a child bride, raised under their roof and worked to the bone by the very family she is meant to belong to. What they intend as submission becomes something else entirely. By accident or by design, they sharpen her. A twist of fate pulls her into an assassin organization where her instincts, honed by years of surviving the wrong people, turn out to be exactly the right currency. She rises quietly and then all at once, becoming the most formidable blade in the guild. The men who once ignored her, dismissed her, looked through her now compete fiercely for her attention. The household that broke her in never imagined it was building a weapon.

When Julian, the true heir by blood, was finally brought back to the Family, my cold-blooded adoptive parents cast me aside. They sent me to "The Abyss"—a clandestine hellhole where billionaires and mafia bosses paid to hunt, rape, and slaughter human prey.No matter how humiliatingly I begged for mercy, I remained locked in an iron cage, passed around as prey for those bloodthirsty beasts.Days later, a photo of me—covered in whip marks, kneeling like a dog with a chain around my neck—made its way to my beloved fiancée, Vivienne.Standing before the press, the untouchable Mafia Princess sneered, her voice dripping with disgust. "He’s pathetic and utterly filthy. The Valenti family would never align with such trash. I'll be marrying Julian instead."On cue, the Russo family officially disowned me, permanently stripping me of their name.After I was tortured to death, the wedding of the century commenced, broadcast live worldwide to celebrate the alliance between two major mafia families.But right then, my "wedding gift" was delivered.When the box was opened, the entire room went dead silent.

Brad Lowe is a top player who transmigrates into the fantasy world, the Twilight Continent, the moment he quits the game. He retains every perfected skill—but has zero interest in adventuring. Monsters? Too lazy to fight. Beauties? Too lazy to flirt.Even divine blessings are rejected. Yet fate drags him into wars among adventurers, turning a man who only wants to rest into an unwilling “savior.”

One month before her wedding, Rowan Hale discovers her fiancé Victor’s cruel plan—he intends to use her as a surrogate for another woman’s child. Devastated, Rowan disappears without a trace.Three years later, Rowan returns as the renowned surgeon “Dr. V” and has found true love with Atticus Blackthorne, the richest man in the country.But on the day of her wedding, Victor appears. What will he beg for? And what will Rowan choose?

One furious punch, one ruined masterpiece, and she’s humiliated as ‘frigid’ before the crowd. But when Rosa, in a blaze of fury, crushes her lips to a stranger, the unthinkable happens: Tristan, the aloof billionaire everyone calls untouchable, gets hard from her kiss… and now he wants more.

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.

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.

“Darcy is feeling dizzy tonight. Let's suppress our bond, Emma. We can have our marking ceremony some other day.” Those were the exact words he spat when I called him on the day that was supposed to be our marking ceremony. It was the seventh time he asked me to suppress the sacred bond between us for his childhood sweetheart. The first time he suppressed it was because Darcy’s pack was under attack and he wanted to be by her side. “Darcy is fighting for her survival and you want me to be pulled by our fated bond? Don't make me believe you are this selfish., Emma.” The third time he suppressed it he said, “Darcy is having a fever. I can't leave her alone.” By the sixth time, he didn't bother explaining why he had the witch suppress our bond in the most brutal way possible because he was in a hurry to go meet Darcy. Since we were fated mates, every time he wanted to be intimate with her, he would have a witch suppress the bond between us. As an Alpha, this suppression barely affects him but as an Omega, it would leave me in a terrible pain that I could not get up from my bed for weeks. Though devastated seeing me in such pain, he would offer me only a few lines of apologies and a bundle of promises to make it up to me in future. That's it. So, when the seventh time, he refused to mark me and came home to suppress our bond to be with Darcy, I had already packed my clothes. It will be the last time he suppresses our bond because the next time, there will be no bond between us to suppress.

“Darcy is feeling dizzy tonight. Let's suppress our bond, Emma. We can have our marking ceremony some other day.” Those were the exact words he spat when I called him on the day that was supposed to be our marking ceremony. It was the seventh time he asked me to suppress the sacred bond between us for his childhood sweetheart. The first time he suppressed it was because Darcy’s pack was under attack and he wanted to be by her side. “Darcy is fighting for her survival and you want me to be pulled by our fated bond? Don't make me believe you are this selfish., Emma.” The third time he suppressed it he said, “Darcy is having a fever. I can't leave her alone.” By the sixth time, he didn't bother explaining why he had the witch suppress our bond in the most brutal way possible because he was in a hurry to go meet Darcy. Since we were fated mates, every time he wanted to be intimate with her, he would have a witch suppress the bond between us. As an Alpha, this suppression barely affects him but as an Omega, it would leave me in a terrible pain that I could not get up from my bed for weeks. Though devastated seeing me in such pain, he would offer me only a few lines of apologies and a bundle of promises to make it up to me in future. That's it. So, when the seventh time, he refused to mark me and came home to suppress our bond to be with Darcy, I had already packed my clothes. It will be the last time he suppresses our bond because the next time, there will be no bond between us to suppress.

The night before high school graduation, Ethan Luciano pulled me into his bedroom. His hands were rough, his touch demanding, yet my heart overflowed with a decade's worth of unspoken longing. I'd loved Ethan for ten years, and finally, it seemed my silent wishes had come true. Afterwards, as we lay tangled in his sheets, he whispered that he'd marry me after graduation. Once he took over the Luciano family's empire from his father, he'd make me the most cherished woman in the family. I believed him. The next morning, I sat curled up against his bare chest as he casually told my foster brother, Lucas, about us. My cheeks were flushed, and my heart raced, still clinging to the sweetness of the night before. However, then their conversation shifted into Italian. Lucas smirked, leaning back against the doorframe. "Not bad, Young Boss. Your first time, and the school's 'it girl' just threw herself at you. So, how's my little sister taste?" Ethan gave a lazy chuckle. "Looks like an angel, but a freak in the sheets. Who would’ve thought?" The room erupted in low, conspiratorial laughter. Lucas raised a brow. "So, should I call her my little sister or my future sister-in-law?" Ethan’s tone darkened, his arm tightening around my waist for a moment. Then he let out a sigh. "She’s nothing. Just practice," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I’m trying to hook up with the cheer captain, Sylvia Dawson, but I don’t want her thinking I’m clueless in bed. Cynthia Saville’s just a warm-up." He paused. "But don’t tell Sylvia. I don’t need her getting all emotional." They didn't know that I’d spent months secretly learning Italian, preparing for the life I thought I’d share with Ethan. I didn't say a word. Later that day, I quietly withdrew my early decision application to Caltech and applied to MIT instead.