

Menard Group's heiress Nerissa gave up everything for love. After her boyfriend Brian Shaffer lost his hearing and speech in a car accident, she walked out on her wealthy family, faked being mute, and spent three years by his side. But once he regained his voice, he turned his back on her. Ashamed of his past and the "mute" girlfriend who stood by him, Brian drifted into the arms of another. Betrayed and heartbroken, Nerissa finally walked away. She was reclaiming her life, her name, and her future. With Michael Yeager by her side, she was done being silent. It was her time to speak, love, and rise.

While they slice me apart, I desperately call my brother, Nathan Slade. He finally picks up as my consciousness starts to slip and answers in an annoyed voice, "What now?" "Nathan, help—" I don't get to finish before he cuts me off. "Can't you ever go a day without drama? Gemma's graduation is at the end of the month. Miss it, and I swear I'll kill you!" Then, he hangs up without a second thought. The agonizing pain swallows me whole, and my eyes close for good, tears still trailing down my cheeks. Well, good news, Nathan… You won't have to kill me because I'm already dead.

I died on the day I was supposed to receive the Pack’s Distinguished Service Award. Three hours after I died, my parents, my brother, and my mate were just wrapping up the graduation party they’d thrown for my sister. While my sister, Ella, was posting a cozy family photo on Instagram, I was locked in our basement, using my tongue to swipe on my phone and call for help. The only person who answered was my mate, Ryan. All he said was, "Sophie, cut the drama. Ella's graduation party is important. Enough with the tantrums!" This was the ninety-ninth time they had let me down. And the last. I lay in a pool of my own blood, my lungs still. They thought I was just throwing a fit, hiding somewhere. That if they taught me a lesson, I’d come crawling back. But they didn't know. I was home the whole time. I was already dead.

I died on the day I was supposed to receive the Pack’s Distinguished Service Award. Three hours after I died, my parents, my brother, and my mate were just wrapping up the graduation party they’d thrown for my sister. While my sister, Ella, was posting a cozy family photo on Instagram, I was locked in our basement, using my tongue to swipe on my phone and call for help. The only person who answered was my mate, Ryan. All he said was, "Sophie, cut the drama. Ella's graduation party is important. Enough with the tantrums!" This was the ninety-ninth time they had let me down. And the last. I lay in a pool of my own blood, my lungs still. They thought I was just throwing a fit, hiding somewhere. That if they taught me a lesson, I’d come crawling back. But they didn't know. I was home the whole time. I was already dead.

I died on the day I was supposed to receive the Pack’s Distinguished Service Award. Three hours after I died, my parents, my brother, and my mate were just wrapping up the graduation party they’d thrown for my sister. While my sister, Ella, was posting a cozy family photo on Instagram, I was locked in our basement, using my tongue to swipe on my phone and call for help. The only person who answered was my mate, Ryan. All he said was, "Sophie, cut the drama. Ella's graduation party is important. Enough with the tantrums!" This was the ninety-ninth time they had let me down. And the last. I lay in a pool of my own blood, my lungs still. They thought I was just throwing a fit, hiding somewhere. That if they taught me a lesson, I’d come crawling back. But they didn't know. I was home the whole time. I was already dead.

The doctor told me I had 72 hours left, unless I got access to the newest experimental treatment. However, there was only one slot available, and my husband Bowen Liddell gave it to my sister Yvonne Lawson instead. "Her kidney failure is more critical," he said. I nodded and swallowed the white pills that would only speed up my death. In the time I had left, I got a lot done. The lawyer's hand trembled as he passed me the documents. "Are you sure you want to transfer the two billion dollars in shares?" I replied, "Yes. Give them to Yvonne." My daughter, Candice Liddell, was giggling in Yvonne's arms. "Mommy Yvonne bought me a new dress!" I said, "It looks beautiful. Make sure you always listen to Mommy Yvonne, okay?" The art gallery I built from the ground up now had Yvonne's name on the sign. "You're too kind, Kathy," she said, crying. I told her, "You'll run it even better than I ever did." I even signed all my parents' trust fund away. That was when Bowen finally gave me his first genuine smile in years. "Kathleen, you've changed. You're not so aggressive anymore... You're beautiful like this." Indeed. This dying version of me finally became the 'perfect Kathleen Sullivan' in their eyes—obedient, generous, and no longer argumentative. The 72-hour countdown had already begun, and I couldn't help but wonder what they would remember when my heart stopped for good. The good wife who 'finally learned to let go', or the woman who completed her revenge by dying?

After dying unexpectedly, Ivy wakes up inside an otome game as the villainess Diana, an overweight F-class Alpha princess destined to be killed by her four Omega fiancés. With only 30 days to survive, she must tame the men who hate her before they become her killers.

It was on our wedding night when my husband stole my heartblood to save his childhood sweetheart. His lips were on my forehead as his dagger carved my chest open. "Good girl. This is the last time, I promise," he breathed bewitchingly, his scalding tears dripping on my skin. "Once she's better, let's consummate our marriage." That was what he said, but I had heard it countless times before. In my despair, I used my last ounce of strength to tug on his sleeve. He urgently drained my blood to save another woman, not even looking my way as he did. What he didn't know was that it was my last drop of heartblood. And I was going to die.

At the end of the Qrento era, wars rage across the land. Josh Cohen transmigrates into a hopeless gambler—flat broke, yet with a beautiful wife and a stunning younger sister-in-law. Their home is empty, not even a scrap of food to spare. Just then, his wife, Eloise Sutton, brings a steaming bowl of porridge. “Yesterday… that was my fault. I shouldn’t have drugged you,” she says.

My fated mate left the pack, heartbroken, after I rejected him. Seven years later, he returned with his new mate-to-be. By then, the pack doctor had given me my final diagnosis. "Extreme wolf spirit decay." It was irreversible. My wolf would be gone within months. My life was at its end. My fated mate, Alpha Roric, now the most powerful Alpha in North America, smirked when he saw me. I was pale and thin, leaning on my sister for support. "Ayla. Seven years, and you're too weak to even stand straight? When you rejected me, didn't you say that beta was a better match? Where is he now?" His voice dripped with hate. I just tugged on the sleeves of my coat, hiding the way my fingers trembled. A tell-tale sign of my power slipping away. "It's just a cold." Roric's gaze swept over me like ice. "In that case, you should come to my Mating Ceremony with Cressida. I'll save you the best seat." I just smiled. "I can't. I'll be going somewhere far away soon. I'm sorry." Then, pulling my sister with me, I turned and melted into the shadows.