

I am diagnosed with severe systemic lupus erythematosus, and I only have three days left to live. When my husband rejects my 188th plea for help, I take my test results and enter the hospice care center. "Hello, I'd like to schedule my own cremation process and apply for government aid." Ten minutes later, they arrive. Before I can speak, my lawyer husband, Jasper Horton, coldly slaps me across the face. "You're faking a terminal illness just to steal attention from Janice?" My doctor brother, Casey Carter, snatches the medical report from my hand and scoffs at it. "Lupus? If you're going to fake being sick, at least make it believable. Only one in a million people gets this." I endure the pain in my body, return to the counter, and hand in the application form and my medical records once more. The staff member sees the butterfly-shaped rash on my wrist and sympathizes with me. "I have no family left," I say. "I'm requesting cremation in three days, location doesn't matter. I just don't want my death to burden anyone."

My husband and I were the two people who hated each other most in this world. He hated me for tearing him away from the woman he loved. And I hated him because that his heart remained occupied by another woman. For eight years of marriage, the words we spoke to each other most often were not love, nor duty, but curses. Yet on the day the city fell, everything changed, the enemy banners were already visible beyond the inner gate. He rode ahead and took the road, putting his body between the enemy and my escape. “Live,” he said quietly. Then he raised his blade and did not look back. Arrows came like rain. As they tore into him, he turned his head once—only once— After that, his body held the road,and nothing passed. “If there is another life…may Your Highness grant me the mercy to belong to her.” That night, with the city in ruins and the people either dead or fleeing, I climbed the highest tower of the palace. I leapt. When I opened my eyes again, I went to the king. “The northern kingdoms require a royal bride,” I said. “I will go.” This lifetime, I will be the one to cross the border. In my previous life, he died believing he had failed her. This time, I will not allow that regret to exist. I will take the marriage meant for her. I will carry the crown meant to exile her. I will walk into a future she should never have to endure. Let her stay. Let him protect her. Let him live his life believing he has finally kept his promise.

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 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 am diagnosed with severe systemic lupus erythematosus, and I only have three days left to live. When my husband rejects my 188th plea for help, I take my test results and enter the hospice care center. "Hello, I'd like to schedule my own cremation process and apply for government aid." Ten minutes later, they arrive. Before I can speak, my lawyer husband, Jasper Horton, coldly slaps me across the face. "You're faking a terminal illness just to steal attention from Janice?" My doctor brother, Casey Carter, snatches the medical report from my hand and scoffs at it. "Lupus? If you're going to fake being sick, at least make it believable. Only one in a million people gets this." I endure the pain in my body, return to the counter, and hand in the application form and my medical records once more. The staff member sees the butterfly-shaped rash on my wrist and sympathizes with me. "I have no family left," I say. "I'm requesting cremation in three days, location doesn't matter. I just don't want my death to burden anyone."

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.

Sophia was the invisible wife of James, heir to the city’s most powerful mafia empire. When his childhood sweetheart Vicky returned, Sophia realized she was just a stand-in. Heartbroken and pregnant, she divorced him and vanished to Paris.But James tore the world apart searching—only to find her at Alex’s side.

Three years ago, an earthquake struck. Lydia's husband and son died saving everyone in their building. Their neighbor Eleanor gradually forgot their sacrifice in the years that followed. For three years, Lydia has quietly honored her loved ones' memory, while Eleanor has come to see Lydia as a symbol of bad luck. Now Eleanor's son Marcus is about to hold his wedding. Lydia decides to make everyone understand in her own striking way that honoring the departed is honoring life itself, and that remembering an act of kindness keeps warmth alive in people's hearts.

My husband and I were the two people who hated each other most in this world. He hated me for tearing him away from the woman he loved. And I hated him because that his heart remained occupied by another woman. For eight years of marriage, the words we spoke to each other most often were not love, nor duty, but curses. Yet on the day the city fell, everything changed, the enemy banners were already visible beyond the inner gate. He rode ahead and took the road, putting his body between the enemy and my escape. “Live,” he said quietly. Then he raised his blade and did not look back. Arrows came like rain. As they tore into him, he turned his head once—only once— After that, his body held the road,and nothing passed. “If there is another life…may Your Highness grant me the mercy to belong to her.” That night, with the city in ruins and the people either dead or fleeing, I climbed the highest tower of the palace. I leapt. When I opened my eyes again, I went to the king. “The northern kingdoms require a royal bride,” I said. “I will go.” This lifetime, I will be the one to cross the border. In my previous life, he died believing he had failed her. This time, I will not allow that regret to exist. I will take the marriage meant for her. I will carry the crown meant to exile her. I will walk into a future she should never have to endure. Let her stay. Let him protect her. Let him live his life believing he has finally kept his promise.

My father and brother had preferred my sister over me since we were kids. In fact, they hated me. When I was bullied at a party, it was a mafia boss, Edwin Carlson, who stepped in. He saved me and announced right there in front of everyone that I was the woman he loved. He warned that anyone who dared mess with me again would have to deal with him. Edwin bought a castle deep in the forest just for me. He filled the garden with my favorite tulips and held a grand wedding there that made headlines across the country. For a while, I became the woman everyone envied. Seven months pregnant, I attended my father's birthday party. But that night, a sudden fire broke out. My biased father and brother only cared about saving my sister, Kelsey Grant. They rushed her out while I was left behind to die in the flames. In the end, it was Edwin who carried me out. But when I woke up in the hospital, I saw something that shattered my heart. "What the hell were you thinking, starting that fire?" Edwin's face was dark with rage. "Stephanie's only seven months pregnant! Are you trying to force her into early labor? Were you trying to kill her and the baby?" My father and brother spoke in hushed voices, trying to explain. "Kelsey has leukemia. The doctors said we can't wait anymore—she needs surgery soon. And she needs the baby's bone marrow..." "I care about Kelsey's life more than you do. Why else would I have married Stephanie? But you can't hurt her. I have my own plan!" Edwin warned coldly. "Saving Kelsey is the goal, yes—but if you try to save her at the cost of Stephanie's life, I won't allow it!" After hearing that, I fled the hospital room in a panic. So that was why he married me. Not because he loved me, but to save Kelsey. Everything he did for me—his kindness, his care—was all for her. Just like my father and brother, he loved Kelsey. Not me. If no one loved me, then I figured I might as well just disappear.