

My mate fell in love with the mute Omega who saved his life and wanted to call off our engagement. I kindly advised him, "The position of Alpha Queen is not an easy one. She may not be able to bear the responsibility." The mute Omega felt insulted and committed suicide by taking Wolfsbane. Eight years later, when Ryan became the Alpha King, the first thing he did was destroy the Snowfang Pack and come for my life. "This is what all of you owe Saya." When I opened my eyes again, I was back at my 18th birthday banquet. Ryan's father, the former Alpha King, had once asked me what my wish was. "Since Ryan and Saya are each other's fated ones, let them be together. Let them complete their bond under the moonlight and receive the blessing of the Moon Goddess.

In my past life, I married the golden Seraphim heir Jax, bore his white-winged son who became Sovereign, and was burned alive by my jealous sister Bellatrix. Reborn on the day of the Rite of Union, I watched Bellatrix steal Jax again and beg me to step aside. Our father sided with her as always. This time, I refused to play the victim. Instead of choosing the powerful Seraphim, I married Damon — the despised, “poor” heir of the Shadow Demon clan that everyone mocked. Bellatrix laughed at my “terrible” choice and proudly announced her pregnancy within months, flaunting her future as the mother of the next Sovereign. But I knew her dirty secrets. My peaceful pregnancy became her nightmare. When her monstrous, multi-fathered children were exposed, the Seraphim clan turned on her. Jax abandoned and tortured her. In her final madness, she tried to kill my babies. She failed. I watched her die screaming, just as she once watched me burn. Now, with my children safe and my revenge complete, the heavens call me back as the Shadow Saint.

My father was one of the first dons to rise out of the Naples mob. My mother was an iron-fisted businesswoman with a reputation that made grown men flinch. When I was ten, somebody had the nerve to hijack one of my father's freight ships. He had the man's arms and legs broken with a crowbar, then stuffed a handful of gold rings down his throat — told him to count his money while he crawled. When I was fifteen, some scheming woman tried to get her claws into my father. My mother hired the filthiest pimps off the docks, shipped her down to a back-alley bar in Marseille, and told her to make her own way. And me — I grew up running the streets of Naples like I owned them. The sons of every other family knew to call me Miss Ferrante and keep their hands to themselves. Then I met him. A rough, quiet man fresh out of the army. For him I put down the knives, traded the silk for plain cotton, and followed him back to that little nothing of a coastal town, Porto Scuro. Today my mother-in-law and my husband went down to the dock warehouses to settle a dispute. They held her face down in a barrel of rotting fish guts. They kicked in three of his ribs. I stared at the salt fish I'd been slicing on the kitchen board, let out a cold laugh, and brought the knife down so hard the oak split in half. Then I dialed my father's private line.

I needed money, so I sold myself to that cold, handsome man for seven nights. He left behind a black card and an ice-cold eggshell, then vanished. Three months later, a doctor found six coiled serpentine shadows inside my womb. I discarded every trace of my identity and fled to a snowbound cabin, hoping to stay alive. But the day I gave birth alone in a blizzard, what crawled out weren't monsters. They were six babies with golden slit pupils who called me "Mama." My children were not priceless treasures. To the powerful guys, they were research subjects. To the other species, they were "filthy half-breeds." When cold needles pressed against all six of my children's chests, I heard the blast door torn from its frame. The man who had vanished three years ago stood in the smoke. Six golden threads glowed from his palm, each connected to a child, and black blood still seeped from the wounds he'd torn open breaking through the blockade. "Get your hands off my family."

The unmatched Dragon King has returned! With overwhelming power and strength, his ironclad rule will have the world trembling in fear.

Layla Nott has been infatuated with Seth Upton since she was a teenager and even willingly gives him her vast inheritance to help him build Upton Group, transforming the Upton family into one of the most prominent families in Yeldon. However, ever since she married into the Upton family, her health has deteriorated. One day, after a visit for medical treatment, she returns home to find Seth fooling around with her stepsister, Sharon Black. Septh's mother, Susan Upton, is at home and clearly condones the affair. After being humiliated by Sharon and Susan, Layla is left shaken by Seth's confession—he has only ever been interested in her wealth and has never loved her. He has even purchased a massive life insurance policy on her and is now waiting for her death to cash in on the payout. Heartbroken by the revelation, Layla feels her life is pathetic. Impatient for her demise, Seth takes her to the rooftop and pushes her off. As she plunges to her death, Layla swears that if she were given another chance, she would exact her revenge and make sure they pay for their betrayal.

General Valerie, commander of the human legions, returns in triumph—only to find her family slaughtered and her parents' souls imprisoned. King Edmund, who once promised her the crown, has broken his oath and submitted to the Archbishop. Valerie reclaims command of her armies, slays those who murdered her kin, but is soon cornered by the Archbishop, who holds her parents' souls and the lives of her entire legion as leverage. Forced into an alliance with Raven, lord of Black Keep, she leads her human legions in a counteroffensive against the capital. They dismantle the old system, punish the king, and strike down the Archbishop himself. In the end, Valerie rejects the crown she once sought and establishes a new order—one built on freedom, not thrones.

In her past life, Tracy Harper faced a chilling demise—buried alive by her own husband, Ian Lander, and her sister, Lucy Harper. But fate offered her a second chance when she awoke, thrust back three years in time. Desperate to escape Ian's clutches, Tracy's path collided with Troy Smith, her former fiancé who had once shattered their engagement. Little did she know, Troy too had been reborn. In his previous life, Troy met a tragic end at the hands of Megan Horris, the woman he loved, and her lover. Consumed by a seething hatred towards Megan, Troy found unexpected solace in Tracy's compassion during his final moments. The two, granted a new lease on life, saw their affection grow as they made the scoundrels who had killed them in their past lives pay the price.