jade foster is mine cast

My adopted sister won the Elixir Challenge by stealing my potion. To her shock, she was informed that the event was a selection event for the future wife of the Serpentkins' future head—the same heir who was infamously impotent, barbaric, and hideous. When the Serpentkins sent over a proposal letter, demanding her hand in marriage, my fiance panicked and promptly took my adopted sister away for a quick marriage and even consummated. Once the deed was done, she returned triumphantly, showing off the mark on her lower back. "Well, what are you going to do now, Winnie?" she gloated. "Your fiance is mine now, and you'll be twenty-five in three days. If no one comes to pick you up, you'll just be dumped into the hands of some wife-beating Rogue who is ageing and unwanted…" Actually, she was wrong—I had a choice. I went to the parlor where my parents—who were busy fixing the mess my adopted sister made—were, announcing, "If she refuses to marry the future head of the Serpentkins, I will!"

On the day of my mate-bonding ceremony, my parents suddenly brought my mate home and told me the marking ceremony that day would be with someone else. “Your sister was poisoned by wolfsbane. There's no cure, and her dying wish is to become David’s mate.” “You’re her older sister. Can’t you be kind and help her out?” My mate also tried to persuade me. “Don’t worry, it’s just for show. After she dies, we’ll still be each other’s one and only.” Still, I refused. However, my parents forced me to drink a potion that blocked my mind link, tied me up, and threw me into the silver mine behind our villa. “We’ll untie you once the ceremony goes smoothly,” they said. But soon after they left, I was attacked by a vicious rogue wolf. After endless torment, I was killed. It was only when my body started rotting that they remembered I was still bound in the mine.

My adopted sister won the Elixir Challenge by stealing my potion. To her shock, she was informed that the event was a selection event for the future wife of the Serpentkins' future head—the same heir who was infamously impotent, barbaric, and hideous. When the Serpentkins sent over a proposal letter, demanding her hand in marriage, my fiance panicked and promptly took my adopted sister away for a quick marriage and even consummated. Once the deed was done, she returned triumphantly, showing off the mark on her lower back. "Well, what are you going to do now, Winnie?" she gloated. "Your fiance is mine now, and you'll be twenty-five in three days. If no one comes to pick you up, you'll just be dumped into the hands of some wife-beating Rogue who is ageing and unwanted…" Actually, she was wrong—I had a choice. I went to the parlor where my parents—who were busy fixing the mess my adopted sister made—were, announcing, "If she refuses to marry the future head of the Serpentkins, I will!"

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.

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.