

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?

After the great war between humans and beasts, both sides agreed to let the half-beasts govern the world. Every hundred years, a union between humans and beasts would be arranged. The first half-beast child of the generation would be the next ruler of the Human-Beast Alliance. In my past life, I chose to marry the eldest son of the wolf clan, renowned for his unwavering devotion. I was the first to bear him a child—a rare half-beast white wolf. Our son was named the next ruler of the Human-Beast Alliance, and my husband, by extension, rose to immense power. My younger sister, who had chosen to marry into the fox clan out of vain admiration for their beauty, was not so fortunate. The fox clan's heir, a notorious philanderer, eventually contracted a disease and lost his ability to father children. Jealous and resentful, my sister set a fire that burned both me and my young white wolf son alive. When I opened my eyes again, it was the very day of the human-beast mating ceremony. This time, my sister was quicker—she climbed into the wolf clan heir Jacob's bed before I had the chance. I knew then: she had been reborn too. But what she didn't know… was that Jacob's nature was cruel and violent. He worshiped bloodshed, not love. And he was anything but a worthy mate.

Subjected to humiliation by her mother-in-law and abuse from her husband, Alicia Reed endures in silence, all for the sake of preserving her family. Despite everyone's perception of Alicia as a country bumpkin, her husband's infidelity becomes a turning point. In a surprising twist, Alicia confronts him with a divorce agreement, unveiling her immense wealth. The unexpected resilience of this seemingly underestimated woman reshapes the narrative, leaving her unfaithful husband in a state of panic.

On our seventh wedding anniversary, I was straddling my Mafia husband, Lucian, kissing him deeply. My fingers fumbled in the pocket of my expensive silk dress, searching for the pregnancy test I'd hidden there. I wanted to save the news of my unexpected pregnancy for the end of the evening. Lucian's right-hand man, Marco, asked with a suggestive smile in Italian: "Don, your new little canary, Sophia. How does she taste?" Lucian's mocking laughter vibrated through my chest, sending a chill down my spine. He replied, also in Italian: "Like an unripe peach. Fresh and tender." His hand was still caressing my waist, but his gaze was distant. "Just keep this between us. If my Donna finds out, I'm a dead man." His men chuckled knowingly, raising their glasses and swearing their silence. The warmth in my blood turned to ice, inch by inch. The one thing they didn’t know was that my grandmother was from Sicily, so I understood every word. I forced myself to remain calm, keeping the perfect smile of a Donna fixed in place, but the hand holding my champagne flute trembled. Instead of making a scene, I opened my phone, found the invitation I had received a few days ago for a private international medical research project, and tapped "Accept." In three days, I would disappear from Lucian's world completely.

My younger sister, Lydia Miller, and I are unexpectedly reborn into a beastman tribe, where the Beast God gives us a choice of identity. The first option is to become a beast woman with tremendous strength and a tall, imposing physique. The second option is to become a saintess with the ability to reproduce across species and an alluring, graceful figure. In our previous life, Lydia became a beast woman to survive, while I became the frail saintess. She ended up scorned by the tribe's beastmen for not being feminine enough. Meanwhile, I captured the hearts of the three strongest and most handsome beastmen in the tribe with my delicate frame. I became their most cherished beloved. Eventually, they rose to rule the primeval forest, and I basked in endless glory as their saintess. Driven mad with jealousy, Lydia pushed me into a poison swamp when no one was looking. With my last bit of strength, I plunged a poisonous thorn into her body, and we died together. When I open my eyes again, we're back at the moment when the Beast God asks us to make our choice. This time, Lydia rushes to claim the saintess identity first. "Ella, this time I'll be the saintess. Since I pity you so much, I'll let you have those three defective, impotent beastmen." I bite back the wild joy flooding through me. What's so great about serving as a breeding tool anyway? In a primitive society, strength is everything.
![[ENG DUB] Spoiled Rotten: Flash Marriage to My Child's Father](https://acfs3.goodshort.com/dist/src/assets/images/pc/common/f901131c-default-book-cover.png)
5 years ago, Lydia Tate accidentally saved Eric Lucia,Lucia Group's CEO, and got pregnant overnight. 6 years later, Lydia met him again while her family forced her into marriage. Eric, who had been searching for her, married her and doted on her. He secretly helped her take down her backstabbing friend, her profit-driven parents, and the bully they forced her to marry.

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."

Elena endures seven years of a loveless marriage with Nicholas, who remains obsessed with his first love, Olivia. After their daughter Lily is hurt time and again, Elena draws up an agreement giving Nicholas three final chances. He wastes every last one, forcing Elena to walk away—only for Nicholas to finally realize his true feelings, much too late.

5 years ago, Lydia Tate accidentally saved Eric Lucia, Lucia Group's CEO, and got pregnant overnight. 6 years later, Lydia met him again while her family forced her into marriage. Eric, who had been searching for her, married her and doted on her. He secretly helped her take down her backstabbing friend, her profit-driven parents, and the bully they forced her to marry.

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."