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  • His Defiant Luna: The Alpha Prince’s Secret Healer novel by Hei Baidong

    His Defiant Luna: The Alpha Prince's Secret Healer novel by Hei Baidong

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    The first thing I felt was a splitting headache as mocking maids shoved me into a heavy wedding dress.

    Then, the memories of this body flooded in. My stepmother had forced a drugged drink down my throat, my stepsister had slashed my face to the bone with a silver comb, and my fiancé, Prince Alaric, had his men beat me.

    They had planned a cruel spectacle. They dragged me to the altar to be a mad, disfigured bride, ruining my own wedding so my “kind” stepsister could step in and save the day.

    Under the crystal chandeliers, the entire royal court gasped at my gruesome scars.

    Alaric looked at me with disgust and publicly declared me a wolfless disgrace, completely unfit to be his Luna, while my stepsister stood poised to take my place.

    They thought they had broken me. They thought I would just accept my fate as a pathetic stepping stone for their perfect ending.

    They didn’t know the original Florence was dead, and the soul now occupying this body was forged in a ruthless future.

    Instead of crying, I glided to the altar, pulled a silver pin from my hair, and pressed the sharp point directly against Alaric’s throat.

    “I reject you as my mate.”

    Looking at his terrified eyes, I smiled and made a vow to the stunned crowd.

    “For the humiliation I’ve suffered today, I will repay it a hundred times over!”

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    His Defiant Luna: The Alpha Prince’s Secret Healer Chapter 1

    Florence POV:
    My head felt like it was splitting open. A sharp, hammering pain pulsed behind my eyes, synchronized with the thumping bass of the music.
    Muffled voices buzzed around me, a swarm of insects I couldn’t swat away.
    I forced my eyelids open. The crystal chandelier above shattered into a thousand dazzling fragments of light. Smirking faces slowly came into focus, their eyes filled with undisguised mockery. A girl in a lavish pink gown stood over me, her blonde hair glowing like a perfect halo as she looked down with cold arrogance.
    “Florence, stop playing dead!” she snapped, her voice sharp and triumphant. “It’s your engagement day to Prince Alaric. Even for a wolfless like you, it’s an honor to take my place.”
    A torrent of memories surged into my mind—my own, from a life before this one, flooding back all at once.
    I was Florence Sharpe. A “wolfless” who had never awakened her wolf, I had been treated as a disgrace and an outcast within my own family. My stepsister, Clara—the blonde girl standing in front of me—had poisoned me out of jealousy and left my face scarred beyond recognition. And now, they were forcing me to take Clara’s place and fulfill the engagement with the prince.
    A tall man with contempt in his eyes scowled down at me. Prince Alaric.
    “Lady Barb,” he said coldly, his voice filled with disdain, “is this really the best you could find? She’s a complete disgrace. Get her up before she makes a fool of herself and humiliates us all.”
    Clara looped her arm through Alaric’s, her voice turning sickly sweet. “Alaric, don’t be angry. My sister is just… not used to these grand occasions.” Her eyes, however, danced with pure, venomous joy.
    I pushed myself up, my hand gripping the edge of a table for support. The biological toxin still lingered in my system, a familiar, low-grade poison.
    In my past life, I had been a bio-engineer from a future far beyond this world—and with that knowledge now awake in me, neutralizing it would be simple.
    But first, I needed to collect some interest.
    Whispers slithered through the crowd. “Look at the scar on her face, how hideous.” “A wolfless dares to marry the prince?” “The shame of the Sharpe family.”
    The noise was like flies buzzing over a corpse.
    Seeing me stand, Clara assumed I had submitted. A victorious smile spread across her face as she reached out to “help” me. “Come, sister. It’s time to complete the ceremony before the Elders.”
    The moment her fingers brushed my arm, I moved.
    My hand shot out, clamping around her wrist like a steel trap. Her smile froze.
    Crack.
    The sound was crisp and clear. A sharp slap echoed through the suddenly silent hall.
    Everyone stared, their mouths agape.
    Clara clutched her cheek, her eyes wide with disbelief. “You… you hit me?” she shrieked.
    A cold smile touched my lips. I slapped her again, harder this time. “Hit you? I’m going to kill you.”
    I didn’t stop. Left, right, my hands became a blur, each slap a repayment for the pain and humiliation this body had endured. I struck her thirty times, until her face was a swollen, purple mess and blood trickled from the corner of her mouth.
    “You lunatic! Stop!” Prince Alaric roared, finally breaking from his shock and charging toward me.
    I let go of the whimpering Clara and snatched a heavy crystal vase from a nearby table.
    He didn’t slow down, not expecting any real resistance.
    I didn’t hesitate.
    The vase shattered against his skull with a sickening crunch. Blood streamed down his forehead, mingling with the water and flower petals.
    He staggered back, his hand flying to his head, his anger replaced by a flicker of fear.
    I walked to the center of the hall, my gaze sweeping over the stunned guests. My voice was clear and cold. “I, Florence Sharpe, hereby formally dissolve my engagement to Prince Alaric. Anyone who wants this piece of trash is welcome to him.”
    I then walked to the sniveling heap that was Clara and plucked a long, sharp silver pin from her elaborate hairstyle.
    The Royal Guards finally drew their swords, forming a hesitant circle around me.
    I ignored them.
    I walked directly to the dazed Prince Alaric.
    As he tried to scramble away, I moved like lightning, pressing the sharp point of the hairpin against his throat.
    The cold metal froze him in place. He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing against the pin.
    “If you want your prince to live,” I said calmly to the guards, “you will all back away.”
    They exchanged nervous glances, their swords wavering. Slowly, they retreated.
    I kept the pin pressed against Alaric’s skin, dragging him backward with me toward the grand entrance. My eyes found my stepmother, Barb Foreman, in the crowd. Her face was a mask of pure hatred.
    I pricked Alaric’s neck, drawing a thin line of blood. “Get me the fastest carriage,” I whispered in his ear. “Now.”
    He nodded, his body trembling, and croaked the order to his men.
    The heavy doors swung open behind me, revealing the deep, endless night.

    His Defiant Luna: The Alpha Prince’s Secret Healer Chapter 2

    Florence POV:
    The carriage rattled down the dark, unpaved road. Prince Alaric sat across from me, clutching his bleeding forehead, his eyes burning with a venomous hatred that was almost comical.
    I watched him, my face impassive. From the sleeve of my ruined dress, I produced a slender silver needle, as fine as a strand of hair, taken from the sewing kit I had grown up with in this life.
    Alaric’s eyes widened in alarm. “What do you think you’re doing?”
    I didn’t answer, simply waiting. My body was already working, my advanced knowledge of biology allowing me to break down the lingering toxins molecule by molecule.
    The carriage hit a rough patch of road, lurching violently as it entered the winding mountain pass.
    This was my chance.
    I lunged forward, my movements a blur. The silver needle found its mark, sliding precisely into a nerve cluster at the base of his neck.
    Alaric let out a choked gasp and went limp, slumping against the velvet seat. His entire body was paralyzed. Only his eyes, wide with terror, could move.
    I leaned over him, a cold smile playing on my lips. “Don’t worry,” I whispered. “It’s only temporary. You should be thanking me. This is far more merciful than the poison you and my dear sister planned for me.”
    I ordered the terrified driver to continue deeper into the Foggy Mountains. Buried in my memories was a place—New Moon Manor, an abandoned Sharpe property with a natural healing spring. It was my destination.
    When we reached a sharp turn at the edge of a cliff, I told the driver to stop.
    I opened the door and dragged Alaric out of the carriage like a sack of garbage.
    I hauled his useless body to the cliff’s edge. Then, I forced the driver to guide the horses until the wheels of the magnificent royal carriage teetered on the precipice.
    With a final, satisfying shove, I kicked him.
    He tumbled into the abyss, followed by the carriage, a final, crashing symphony of splintering wood and royal arrogance.
    After dealing with the trash, I moved alone through the woods, relying on memory to guide me toward New Moon Manor. The terrain was difficult, but my past life as a special operative had given me a physical foundation that my body was quickly re-learning.
    Half an hour later, I saw it—an ancient manor shrouded in moonlight and mist.
    I expertly navigated around the few decaying traps on the manor’s perimeter and found the natural hot spring, glowing under the moon.
    The water smelled faintly of herbs, exactly what I needed to purge the last of the poison.
    I shed the cumbersome gown, ready to step into the healing water.
    But I stopped.
    My senses, honed by years of survival, screamed a warning.
    Through the rising steam, I saw the silhouette of a man. He sat with his back to me, his broad shoulders and the powerful lines of his back stark against the moonlight.
    My private sanctuary was occupied.
    I moved silently, creeping closer to identify the intruder.
    As if sensing my presence, the man slowly turned.
    His face was breathtakingly handsome, with features so sharp and deep they looked carved from stone. A pair of dark blue eyes, as sharp as a hawk’s, met mine through the night.
    But his face was pale, his lips pressed into a thin line, as if he were enduring immense pain.
    He was sitting on the stone steps of the spring, his legs submerged in the water. Beside him rested an exquisitely crafted wheelchair.
    My voice was laced with ice. “Who are you? And what are you doing in my spring?”
    The man’s gaze swept over me, lingering for a fraction of a second on the ugly scar on my face before moving on. His tone was flat, yet held an unquestionable authority. “Your spring? This manor, and the entire mountain it sits on, were purchased by me three days ago.”
    I froze. My last refuge, the one place I thought I could recover, was gone?
    The poison inside me, agitated by the night’s exertions, surged again. A wave of dizziness washed over me.
    I had to get into that water. Now.
    I looked at the powerful man before me and knew this night was far from over.

    His Defiant Luna: The Alpha Prince’s Secret Healer Chapter 3

    Florence POV:
    I fought back the wave of nausea, my eyes narrowing as I studied the man. He was sitting, yet the aura of power rolling off him was more intense than anyone I had ever met, Prince Alaric included.
    A humorless laugh escaped my lips. “Purchased? That’s interesting. I wasn’t aware the Sharpe family was selling off ancestral property.”
    The man’s blue eyes narrowed slightly, as if he were assessing a new piece on a chessboard. “You have a connection to the Sharpe family?”
    I ignored his question. “And who are you? Soaking in someone else’s spring in the middle of the night. You look like a pervert.”
    A cold, dangerous smile touched his lips. “My name is Gideon Carlisle. As for being a pervert… you haven’t taken your clothes off yet, miss.”
    Carlisle. The royal family name. I remembered now. He was Alaric’s uncle, the “Iron Prince,” who had supposedly been crippled by a silver weapon on the battlefield three years ago, losing the use of his legs.
    His sharp gaze raked over me again. “I’ve heard rumors of a mysterious ‘Phantom Healer’ in this area, whose skills are divine. Your appearance here, in the dead of night, is quite a coincidence. What is your relationship with her?”
    He was testing me. It was clear now. He’d bought this land to find that healer for his legs.
    I decided to play along, a mysterious smile gracing my lips. “Guess.”
    I circled the edge of the spring, my eyes fixed on his legs submerged in the water. Then, I spoke, my voice low and deliberate. “You’re wasting your time. This isn’t a simple injury. It’s a compound poison—silver dust mixed with the neurotoxin of a black widow spider. It’s been corroding your nerves for three years. This spring can only offer temporary relief, not a cure.”
    The calm mask on Gideon’s face finally cracked. The appraisal in his eyes morphed into shock, then into a flash of pure, unadulterated killing intent.
    This was his deepest secret. Only a handful of people in the royal court knew the exact nature of the poison. And this scarred, unknown woman had seen it with a single glance.
    His voice dropped, becoming a low, menacing growl. “Who are you?”
    I ignored him. The poison in my veins was reaching its peak. I had to get in the water.
    I walked directly toward the spring and began to unlace the remnants of my dress.
    “Stop!” Gideon’s voice was a whip crack. “Who gave you permission to enter?”
    I didn’t even turn around. “A cripple who can’t even stand is trying to give me orders?” I scoffed.
    The words had barely left my mouth when a powerful gust of wind exploded behind me.
    Gideon launched himself from the stone steps, his hand shooting toward my neck like a viper. His legs weren’t completely useless at all!
    But I was ready. I dropped into a low crouch, his fingers grazing the air where my throat had been.
    We exchanged a flurry of blows at the water’s edge. His upper body strength and speed were astonishing, even with his impaired legs.
    I used my agility to weave around him, my mind racing. The power of the Lycan bloodline was truly formidable. This world’s lore spoke of it as a special, high-tier lineage, and I was seeing its power firsthand.
    After a few moves, he cornered me against the spring. There was nowhere left to run.
    Just then, the poison inside me detonated. My vision went black, and my body went limp.
    Gideon seized the opportunity, his hand clamping around my arm, pulling me against him. His other hand closed around my throat.
    The lack of air forced my eyes open. I was staring into his icy blue depths.
    He loomed over me, his voice a chilling whisper from the grave. “Now, tell me your connection to the Phantom Healer. Or I won’t hesitate to snap your neck.”
    I looked at him, and against all odds, I smiled. “Kill me,” I rasped, “and you’ll never walk again.”
    His fingers tightened for a terrifying second, the pressure building, but he didn’t follow through.
    I used that moment of hesitation. I threw my body backward, plunging into the hot spring. The water enveloped me like a soothing blanket.
    I sank beneath the surface, focusing all my energy on expelling the poison, ignoring the man on the bank whose face was a storm of conflicting emotions.
    Gideon stood there, watching me, his eyes filled with suspicion, calculation, and a flicker of another emotion I couldn’t quite place.

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  • Bound By Fire: The Dragon Prince’s Obsession novel by Ellene Millstein

    Bound By Fire: The Dragon Prince's Obsession novel by Ellene Millstein

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    The first thing I felt upon waking was a fire burning inside me, yet all around me was nothing but frozen ice.

    I was Seraphina Carlisle, the most “useless” granddaughter of a Dragon Lord. Once swept away by fate to a higher plane, I had survived among interstellar empires and cosmic arcana, training to become a skilled interstellar medic and void operative.

    Now, inexplicably yanked back to my homeland, I was forced to once again play the part of the pitiful noble lady everyone trampled on.

    My cousin Cammie, all sweet smiles and hidden venom, had dosed me with a blood‑boiling aphrodisiac; she even paid a street thug to destroy me in the dark.

    Soon, she would lead a torch‑bearing crowd of high society into this cave, point at my torn clothes, and weep false tears, meaning to brand me a whore, steal my betrothed, and have me exiled to the deadly northern mines for life.

    But I was no longer the old Seraphina who could only swallow her humiliation in silence, not after the advanced civilizations and brutal training I had endured.

    What Cammie didn’t know was that I had already beaten her thug half to death. And the man whose lap I now sat on, the one I had just used as my “antidote” to survive the poison’s burn, was no vagrant. He was Aldric Beaumont, the dreaded Prince Regent.

    I steadied my breath, calmly straightened my dress, and prepared to wield his absolute power to make her pay back everything, with interest.

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    标题 Chapter 1

    Seraphina POV:
    A searing heat jolted me awake.
    My skin was on fire, a furnace blazing from the inside out. But the air was frigid, biting at my exposed arms. The contrast was a specific kind of hell.
    I forced my eyes open. Ice. Everywhere. I was in a natural cave of shimmering, blue-white ice.
    My head throbbed. My own memories, sluggish and blurred by the drug, rushed back in a tangled flood.
    I was Seraphina Carlisle. Granddaughter of the Dragon Lord of House Carlisle. Known throughout the city of Dragon’s Landing as its most useless noblewoman.
    Because I couldn’t shift. I had no dragon.
    But that wasn’t the whole story.
    I was born here, in this world of dragon-kin, yet years ago, by some twist of fate, I was thrown into another realm, a higher, more advanced civilization: a realm of interstellar empires and esoteric arcane arts, where star‑ships sailed beside floating citadels and reality was woven with cosmic sorcery.
    There, I lived, learned, and trained. I became an interstellar arcane medic and a tactical void operative under brutal, efficient instructors.
    Then, just as inexplicably, I was pulled back to my original world, back to Dragon’s Landing, back to this ice cave, back to being the “useless” noblewoman.
    A fresh wave of heat, more intense this time, ripped through me. My stomach convulsed. This wasn’t just pain. It was poison.
    The memories supplied a name: Chaos Fire. A brutal aphrodisiac of dragon origin. Without a partner to absorb the heat, my dragon-kin blood would boil, and my veins would rupture.
    Damn it.
    The face of my cousin, Cammie Faulkner, flashed in my mind. Her sweet smile. Her venomous heart.
    I suspected she’d poisoned me. She was jealous that, useless as I was, I still had a promising marriage arranged for me.
    I had to cool down. Now.
    I pushed myself up, my palms sliding against the slick ice wall. The cold was a brief, sweet relief against my burning skin.
    A faint light trickled in from the cave’s entrance. And in the shadows near it, something moved.
    A dark shape. A man.
    My training kicked in. I quieted my breathing, what little of it I could manage, and moved toward him, using the jagged ice formations for cover.
    He was dressed in rags, his hair matted. A lowlife. He was staring at me, a greedy, disgusting leer on his face. Saliva dripped from the corner of his mouth.
    So this was Cammie’s “antidote.” Tsk, a street thug.
    He saw me. A grin split his dirty face.
    “Well, well, Lady Seraphina,the useless noble who can’t even shift. Your precious fiancé won’t want a tarnished whore, will he? Someone’s paid me a handsome sum to take good care of you.That Chaos Fire in your veins? I’ll quench it, but I won’t be gentle – you’ll be nothing but a ruined slut by the time I’m done.”
    He lunged.
    I twisted my body, letting his momentum carry him past me. As he stumbled, I drove my elbow hard into his ribs.
    He screamed, a wet, gurgling sound. I used the impact to propel myself deeper into the cave, rolling away from the entrance.
    But the heat was draining my strength. Fast. I couldn’t fight him for long. I needed a real solution. A colder one.
    Just as the darkness started to close in, I felt it.
    A presence from the deepest part of the cave. An aura so cold it felt like it could freeze my very soul. It wasn’t the cold of ice. It was the cold of a living being.
    Hope, sharp and desperate, pierced through the haze of pain.
    I staggered toward the source of the cold, my body screaming in protest. I rounded a massive ice crystal, and then I saw him.
    A man, sitting cross-legged on the floor.
    He was meditating. A mane of brilliant gold hair stood out even in the gloom. A thin layer of frost coated his handsome, chiseled face. His lips were purple. He was clearly in his own world of agony.
    My medic’s brain made an instant diagnosis. This man’s profound cold was exactly what I needed. And my infernal heat could be exactly what he needed.
    It was a perfect match.
    I didn’t hesitate. I stumbled toward him.
    Behind me, the thug, Rick Tucker, was back on his feet. “You think you can escape? Without me, you’ll be dead in minutes!” he yelled, his footsteps echoing in the cave.
    The meditating man’s eyelashes fluttered. He was being disturbed. He was about to wake up.
    I couldn’t let that happen. An awake dragon-kin was too dangerous, too unpredictable.
    I used the last of my strength to lunge forward, collapsing at his feet. His body was like a block of ancient, frozen marble. The second my skin touched his, a gasp of pure relief escaped my lips.
    I could feel a violent, yet incredibly weak, power resisting me from within him. It was the scent of an old wound, a wound inflicted by Dragonslayer Gold, and it was eating away at his soul.
    I ignored the deep frown that creased his brow at my touch. I leaned down.
    And I kissed his frozen lips.
    Rick Tucker skidded to a halt just behind me, his jaw dropping as he stared at the scene.
    The man’s eyes snapped open.
    They were the eyes of a dragon. Pure, molten gold, filled with shock and a universe of fury.
    He tried to push me away, but I clung to him, using my years of cross‑world combat training to pin his weakened body.
    “Save me,” I whispered, my voice a raw rasp against his ear. “And I’ll save you.”
    My Chaos Fire met the Dragonslayer Gold’s chill inside him. The two opposing forces collided, not with an explosion, but with a powerful, magnetic pull.
    The rage in his golden eyes slowly gave way to a primal, instinctual need. His body stopped fighting me. It started responding.
    I tore at the front of his tunic. It was made of rich, heavy fabric, but frozen stiff. The intricate gold-thread embroidery, a pattern of scales, scratched my fingers. This was no ordinary man.
    I pushed Rick Tucker from my mind. He was nothing. Only this man mattered. Only this “cure.”
    We came together skin to skin, his frozen body pressing against my burning flesh.
    I straddled him, and we moved as one—frantic, desperate, each thrust and sway feeding the exchange between fire and frost. His hands gripped my waist, pulling me closer, while my fingers tangled in his golden hair.
    Our breaths mingled in ragged gasps, and I felt the poison drain from my veins with every pulse of our joined rhythm. When the wave crested, we both shuddered, collapsing into each other, the heat and cold finally balanced.
    I could feel the fire inside me receding, replaced by a calm I hadn’t felt since I’d woken up in this hell.
    The man’s breathing was evening out. The frost on his face began to melt. My heat was working.
    In the depths of the frozen cave, with a filthy witness, I and this strange, ice-cold man found our mutual salvation in the most primal way possible.
    When it was over, I collapsed against his chest, my consciousness fading.
    Whoever you are, I thought hazily, you’re mine now.
    Then, from outside the cave, came the sound of shouting and the flickering light of torches. A large group was approaching.

    标题 Chapter 2

    Seraphina POV:
    The first thing to cut through the haze was a woman’s voice, sharp and triumphant.
    “She’s in there! I saw her sneak in with some vagrant myself!”
    A cold smile touched my lips. Cammie. You didn’t waste any time.
    I pushed myself up, my body aching. I looked down at the man beneath me.
    He was fully awake now. Those golden dragon eyes were fixed on me, no longer filled with need, but with the cold, clear promise of murder. He was offended down to his very soul.
    I met his gaze without flinching.
    The footsteps grew louder. A crowd of lavishly dressed nobles, holding torches that cast dancing, monstrous shadows on the ice walls, burst into our chamber. Leading them was my dear cousin, Cammie Faulkner.
    She was a member of the Faulkner family, a branch of House Carlisle, and she had always been jealous of my position as the granddaughter of the main house’s patriarch.
    Behind her were several matrons from other branch families, their faces pinched with disapproval, and a few younger nobles just there for the show.
    Their collective gaze landed on us. On our tangled limbs, our torn clothes.
    A wave of shocked gasps rippled through the group.
    The matrons immediately began whispering, their voices dripping with scorn. “By the First Dragon, shameless.”
    “She’s disgraced the Carlisle name!”
    Cammie pressed a hand to her mouth in mock horror, but her eyes were gleaming with victory. “Sister! How could you… with a man of no name, no station?”
    Her words were a carefully aimed dagger, painting me as a slut who’d consorted with a commoner.
    I ignored her, my attention on the man whose lap I was still in. I searched the memories of the original Seraphina for his face. Nothing. He was a stranger.
    His gaze swept over my face, as if confirming something. Our eyes met, two predators assessing each other.
    Then he spoke. His voice was a low rumble, laced with frost. “Seraphina Carlisle.”
    He knew me.
    And in that moment, seeing those unique golden eyes, feeling the sheer weight of his presence, I knew him. Only one man in the entire kingdom of Dragonreach had eyes like that.
    The Prince Regent. Aldric Beaumont.
    Shit.
    I had just slept with the one man in the kingdom you absolutely do not fuck with. My face remained a calm mask.
    Aldric’s eyes narrowed. The murder in them intensified. A disgraced, dragonless noblewoman had dared to defile him.
    Cammie, misinterpreting our silent appraisal as some kind of lover’s gaze, grew bolder. She stepped forward, pointing a finger at me. “Seraphina, you’re caught. What more can you say? You’ve not only betrayed your betrothed, Nathaniel, but you’ve sullied the Carlisle bloodline!”
    Her accusation ignited the crowd’s self-righteous fury. They began to shout, calling me a disgrace, a whore.
    Slowly, deliberately, I moved off Aldric’s lap. I straightened my torn dress, my movements unhurried, as if I were at a garden party.
    My calm was a stark contrast to their hysteria. Cammie’s smile faltered.
    Aldric sat up. He simply pulled the edges of his open, scale-patterned tunic together, and an invisible wave of pressure, the authority of a true apex predator, rolled through the cave.
    My reaction had annoyed Cammie. She hadn’t noticed the shift in the man behind me. “You harlot!” she shrieked. “Show us the face of your lover! Let’s all see what kind of trash you’ve picked up!”
    She lunged, reaching to grab my arm and pull me away, to expose the “commoner” to the crowd.
    A glint of ice entered my eyes. I was about to move.
    Aldric moved first.
    He didn’t stand. He simply lifted his head and pinned Cammie with his gaze.
    That one look was like a physical blow. It carried the weight of glaciers and the chill of the void. Cammie’s outstretched hand froze in mid-air.
    The temperature in the cave plummeted. The shouting nobles fell silent, a primal fear clutching at their throats, a tremor that ran deeper than thought, right into their blood. It was the bloodline pressure of a Dragon-God.
    Cammie finally realized something was terribly wrong. Her gaze trembled, shifting from my face to the man sitting behind me.
    The torchlight illuminated his features. The face that launched a thousand fantasies in every woman in the kingdom, and a thousand fears in every man.
    Cammie’s eyes widened. The blood drained from her face, leaving it a waxy, pathetic white.
    Her lips moved, but no sound came out.
    Behind her, the other nobles finally got a clear look. A chorus of choked, strangled gasps echoed in the ice cave.
    Then, a dead, terrified silence.

    标题 Chapter 3

    Seraphina POV:
    Cammie’s lips trembled for a long moment before a single, shattered sound escaped. “Your… Your Highness… the Prince Regent?”
    “Prince Regent.” Aldric’s voice wasn’t loud, but each word was a block of ice dropped on their hearts. He confirmed his identity.
    Cammie’s knees gave out. She crumpled to the ground with a soft thud, her body shaking like a leaf in a storm.
    The nobles behind her scrambled to follow, falling over each other to press their foreheads to the frozen floor. No one dared to breathe.
    The once-noisy cave was now filled only with the sound of terrified, suppressed gasps. This was the raw power of his station.
    I watched the scene, my heart a steady, cold drum in my chest. This was the kind of power I needed to survive in this world.
    Aldric didn’t even look at the groveling crowd. His golden eyes were still locked on me, studying me like an unexpected complication, an object that had disrupted his plans.
    Cammie, sobbing on the floor, began to babble. “Your Highness! I… I didn’t know it was you! I thought… I thought my sister…”
    A single, cold glance from Aldric cut her off.
    “You thought?” He rose to his feet slowly. His tall frame cast a monstrous shadow in the torchlight, engulfing the kneeling figures. “You brought this crowd into my private place of meditation… based on something you thought?”
    His words revealed a critical fact: this wasn’t just any cave. This was the Prince Regent’s sanctuary. Cammie hadn’t just made a mistake. She had committed a grave transgression.
    Her face turned the color of ash. She began to slam her forehead against the ice. “Forgive me, Your Highness! I deserve death! I truly did not know it was you!”
    I watched her, a silent observer. Now was not my time to act. I would let Aldric’s fury be my weapon.
    His gaze swept past Cammie and landed on the figure who had been ignored until now—Rick Tucker, huddled in the shadows by the entrance.
    The thug had been frozen in terror since the moment the nobles knelt.
    “That man,” Aldric said, his voice dangerously soft as he pointed. “Who is he?”
    Every head turned. Cammie’s heart sank into a frozen pit. The one piece of her plan she wanted hidden was now in the spotlight.
    Two guards from the crowd immediately surged forward, grabbing Rick Tucker and dragging him like a sack of garbage before the Prince Regent.
    “Your… Your Highness…” he stammered, pissing himself. “It wasn’t me! I don’t know anything!”
    Aldric looked down at him, his golden eyes devoid of any warmth. “Speak. Who sent you?”
    I chose my moment. My voice was not loud, but it cut through the tension. “Cammie, my dear cousin. Weren’t you just accusing me of sleeping with a ‘vagrant’? There he is. Why don’t you identify him?”
    My words were a scalpel, sliding precisely into Cammie’s wound and reminding Aldric of the plot’s origin.
    Cammie flinched, staring at me in horror, as if seeing me for the first time. My sudden aggression had clearly caught her off guard.
    Aldric’s gaze flickered to my face, a spark of inquiry in their depths.
    On an occasion like this, Rick Tucker’s will shattered. He glanced from my face to Cammie’s terrified one, and survival instinct made his choice.
    “It… it was a maid! She found me—she paid me—” His voice cracked, and his eyes darted toward Cammie, a silent but unmistakable accusation.
    Cammie’s face twisted in panic. “Why are you staring at me? Don’t you dare slander me!”
    It was only a hint, but enough to make the nobles shift uneasily.
    I stood up and walked toward Rick Tucker. All eyes followed me.
    Then, in a move that stunned everyone, I lifted my foot and kicked him squarely in the jaw.
    He cried out, falling backward as blood and teeth sprayed from his mouth.

    👉 CONTINUE READING

  • The Unwanted Northern Heiress Shines Again novel by Yan Huo

    The Unwanted Northern Heiress Shines Again novel by Yan Huo

    👉 READ NOW

    I had managed the Castro estate for three years, supporting my husband, Lord Brian Castro, while he fought on the battlefield.

    But the moment he returned victorious, he coldly announced that the King had granted him permission to marry the powerful Dragon Knight, Lady Brittaney Kirk.

    “I expect you to show grace, accept this, and prepare the best rooms for her.”

    He commanded me like a glorified servant, expecting me to continue running the household for his new bride.

    His mother also mocked my Dragonless bloodline, telling me my honor was tied to them and I should be grateful to even stay.

    In my last life, I cried and begged him not to abandon me, hoping my devotion would win him back.

    But my compliance only allowed them to build their glory on my misery, and my entire family—House Serrano—was slaughtered by assassins in a single night.

    Until I died, I didn’t understand why my years of sacrifice were met with such cruel betrayal, or why my brave father and brothers had to die in pools of blood just to pave the way for Brittaney’s rise.

    Opening my eyes again, I was back on the night Brian arrogantly announced his new marriage.

    This time, I didn’t shed a single tear.

    I packed up my massive dowry, gathered my eighty loyal servants, and went straight to the Dragon King to demand a Rejection Ritual.

    I would leave them with nothing but an empty shell.

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    The Unwanted Northern Heiress Shines Again Chapter 1

    Elaine Serrano POV:
    “Elaine, take off the ancestral Dragon-bone ring of House Castro. Brittaney is my true Fated Mate, and from today on, you will step down and serve as a lowly personal maid.”

    Bang. The heavy oak door of my bedchamber was violently kicked open.

    The freezing, ruthless voice of my husband, Lord Brian Castro, shattered the silence of the night.

    I sat before the mirror in a delicate silk gown, looking at my own reflection. Just a few moments ago, I had opened my eyes to find myself reborn—brought back in time to the exact night Brian returned from his year-long war, the night I had prepared to offer myself to him as a welcome-home gift.

    In my previous life, I was foolish enough to let my love for him blind me. When he shattered my heart with his cruel declaration, I had cried, begged, and eventually swallowed my pride, accepting the humiliation of becoming his lowly personal maid just to stay by his side. But my pathetic compromise only led to a horrifying end: they drained every last copper coin of my dowry, butchered the loyal servants I brought from my homeland, and finally, Brittaney burned me alive in a freezing dungeon with her dragonfire!

    Now, looking at the man I had once loved with all my heart, I felt nothing but a sickening wave of pure disgust and a bone-deep thirst for vengeance.

    He strode in, but he wasn’t alone. Next to him stood Brittaney Kirk, a tall, striking female Dragon Knight. Brian’s arm was wrapped tightly around her waist. His deep blue eyes, looking at her, burned with a raw, fiery devotion he had never, ever shown me.

    “She is the new Lady of this Dragon Court,” Brian declared, his gaze shifting to me with absolute zero warmth.

    He paused, clearly waiting for my hysterical breakdown, my tears, and my desperate pleas.

    But I simply sat there, my face as calm as a frozen lake.

    My utter lack of reaction seemed to irritate him. A flash of annoyance crossed his handsome face. He closed the distance between us in two large strides. His large, calloused hand gripped my jaw with bruising force, forcing me to look up into his eyes filled with pure, unadulterated repulsion.

    “Are you deaf, or just too stupid to understand?” he snarled, raking his gaze over my silk gown with a vicious sneer. “Did you really think a cursed Dragonless like you could keep me? Let’s be honest! The only reason I married you was because you used your family’s wealth to force my hand! Look at yourself—a cold-blooded Earthbound who can’t even produce a spark of dragonfire. Hugging you is like hugging a freezing corpse!”

    My fingernails dug so fiercely into my palms that warm blood began to drip onto the carpet.

    “And don’t look at me with that dead expression!” Brian tightened his grip on my jaw, his voice dripping with venom, deliberately weaponizing my deepest trauma. “What are you now? Your father and brothers were arrogant fools! Their bloodline was so weak their dragonfire was extinguished by the enemy, getting your entire family butchered like pigs! You are a jinx with a broken Dragon Core! Asking you to stay in my castle as a personal maid is an act of profound charity!”

    Three years ago, my father and six brothers died in battle. Shortly after, enemy spies infiltrated my homeland and brutally slaughtered my mother and the entire household of the old, the weak, women, and children! Simply because my father and brothers had been the strongest shield against the enemy nation, they annihilated my entire bloodline! Every single person was hacked with seventy-two sword strikes. Even my third brother’s newborn son was butchered and dismembered so horribly his tiny body wasn’t left intact.

    Even in a second lifetime, hearing him weaponize my slaughtered family against me again made the maddening urge to kill scream in my veins. If looks could kill, Brian would have been torn into a thousand bloody pieces right then and there. But the phantom sensation of being burned alive by dragonfire flared in my bones, an agonizing reminder of what reckless anger would cost me.

    I masked the lethal sharpness in my eyes perfectly. Patience, I told myself. Before I destroy them, I need to take back every single copper coin I own.

    “Oh, Brian, please don’t be so harsh on her,” Brittaney sighed, stepping forward to wrap her arms around his waist from behind, deliberately pressing her breasts against his armor. She flashed me a condescending, venomous smile over his shoulder. “Elaine, please don’t be sad. Since you have nowhere to go, you can stay. I loathe doing chores anyway. From now on, you can draw our bathwater, and… oh, you can wash our bedsheets every morning. It will give a fragile, magic-less thing like you a sense of purpose.”

    “What is all this screaming?” The harsh voice of my mother-in-law, Lady Icie, echoed from the hallway. She walked into the room, drawn by the commotion. She was wearing the expensive, gold-threaded silk I bought for her, yet when she saw me, her face twisted with absolute disdain.

    “Have you no shame, Elaine?” Icie spat. “Brittaney is a true Winged warrior. Her fiery dragon breath cured my illness and brought me immense joy. You just smell of earth and death. It is the Court that feeds you! Brian is merciful enough to let you serve him. Learn to know your place and be grateful!”

    Grateful?

    When Brian left for war, Icie was dying. I exhausted my massive dowry to hire a Royal Dragon Healer. I, a Dragonless, used my own body heat to keep her warm through freezing nights. Every single bite of food these dragons ate, the chandeliers above their heads, the very castle they were standing in—all bought with my wealth!

    And now, they were standing on the bloody corpses of my slaughtered family, calling me a freezing corpse, and demanding I wash their dirty bedsheets?!

    In my last life, this injustice had suffocated me. But now, it only brought a bone-chilling, terrifying calm.

    I slowly stood up. With agonizing slowness, I slid the heavy, ancestral Dragon-bone ring off my finger. The metal clinked sharply as I dropped it onto the table.

    “If that is the Lord’s command,” I lowered my eyes, completely masking the lethal, venomous sharpness hidden in my gaze. “I step down.”

    Brittaney’s lips curled into a victorious smirk. Brian let out a long breath of relief, letting go of my jaw and looking at Brittaney with deep affection. My complete surrender fully satisfied his arrogant Dragon pride.

    Smoothing the invisible wrinkles on my silk gown, I gave them one last, perfect curtsy befitting a lowly personal maid.

    But the moment I turned my back and walked out of the room, a twisted, bloodcurdling sneer finally broke through the fragile mask on my face.

    Enjoy your Fated Mate, Brian.

    I can’t wait to see your arrogant Dragon pride shatter into bloody pieces. Let’s see how deep your Fated Flame burns when you realize your glorious Dragon Court doesn’t even have moldy scraps to eat… once I cut off every single penny of my money.

    The Unwanted Northern Heiress Shines Again Chapter 2

    Elaine Serrano POV:
    The heavy oak door of my bedchamber clicked shut behind me, but it couldn’t completely muffle the laughter and celebration coming from the main hall. In the dim corridor, my loyal personal maid, Phoebe, stood trembling in the shadows.

    Without a word, she hurried to my side, draping a warm shawl over my shivering shoulders, and fell into step behind me as we walked down the freezing stone corridor.

    The commotion had already drawn the night staff out of the woodwork. The servants, who used to bow so low their noses nearly touched the floor whenever I passed, now openly lined the hallway, not even bothering to hide their gloating stares or their malicious whispers.

    “Did you hear? Lord Brian stripped her title. She’s just a personal maid now,” a scullery maid whispered loudly.

    “About time. She’s just a cursed Dragonless jinx anyway,” a guard snickered, his eyes shamelessly raking over my silk gown.

    I felt Phoebe shaking with rage behind me, but I didn’t stop. In my past life, these whispers were like knives to my heart. Now, they were just the buzzing of flies destined for the slaughterhouse.

    When I finally pushed open the door to my own chambers, the biting cold hit me instantly. The dragon-crystal heater was completely dead. Not a single spark of energy had been provided for the night.

    The moment the door clicked shut, sealing us inside, Phoebe finally collapsed to her knees.

    “My lady… how could he? How could Lord Brian do this?!” Phoebe sobbed, her fingers digging desperately into the cold floorboards. “He knew how much that night destroyed you! How could he use the slaughter of your family as a weapon to humiliate you in front of everyone?!”

    Looking at Phoebe, my childhood companion who shared my deepest trauma, the last trace of patience in my heart vanished.

    “Stand up, Phoebe,” I said, my voice dropping to an eerie, frozen whisper. I knelt and gently wiped the tears from her face. “Tears cannot wash away the blood of our families. Brian said House Serrano is nothing but a dead graveyard. Then it is time we show him how the ghosts from that graveyard feast.”

    I stood up and walked to the row of massive dowry chests in the corner of the room. They were made of ironwood, unique to the North, and branded with my family’s snow-wolf sigil.

    This was everything I had brought from House Serrano. It was also my ticket out of this disgusting cage.

    I opened one of the chests and took out a heavy ledger from a smaller box. My mother had left it to me. It recorded all the assets and connections of House Serrano.

    By the light of the dragon-crystal lamp, I began to carefully inventory my dowry.

    House Serrano. Once the strongest shield of the North, guarding the realm for the Raymond dynasty for generations.

    Three years ago, my father and six brothers died on the southern battlefield. Their dragonfire was extinguished when they were heavily surrounded. Shortly after, Veskarian assassins slipped through the broken defense line like ghosts, infiltrating our homeland. My mother, my sister-in-laws, and all the old and weak were brutally slaughtered in pools of their own blood.

    The official story was that it was a mad act of revenge by the enemy for my father and brothers’ past victories.

    I had believed it. But now, in my second life, I knew it wasn’t that simple.

    Brittaney Kirk… her shadow loomed over that tragedy. Back then, it was Brittaney’s elite Winged squadron that was supposed to reinforce my father. But they were mysteriously “delayed.” Their delay cost the lives of my father and brothers, which allowed the assassins to breach the North.

    In my past life, I thought it was a tragic accident. But after being burned alive by her dragonfire, a chilling realization crept into my mind: what if she had intentionally let my family die?

    A sharp pain shot through my chest. I gripped the edge of the chest, gasping for breath. The fire of vengeance burned in my veins.

    But it wasn’t time for that. First, I had to escape this cage.

    It wasn’t just these material goods in the ledger. There were also eighty servants who had come with me to the Castro estate. They were born into the service of my house, loyal only to me.

    Brian and the Castros all assumed that once I married into their family, these people and properties naturally belonged to them.

    They were wrong.

    According to the laws of the kingdom, a wife’s dowry belongs to her and her alone, unless she willingly gifts it away.

    And the “Rejection Ritual” was the only form of marital dissolution that allowed the female to leave with her entire dowry, no questions asked.

    It required the consent of both parties, or… a direct command from the Dragon King himself.

    Brian wanted his new bride and his glory. I wanted my freedom and my dignity. We would settle this the old-fashioned way, the dragon way.

    I closed the ledger and put it back. The plan was clear in my mind.

    The Castros thought they controlled everything, but they didn’t know that my father, Corbin Serrano, had been one of King Aurthur’s most trusted Dragon Lords. He had even saved the King’s life when His Majesty was a boy.

    The Castros didn’t know about that favor. But the King would remember.

    All I needed was a chance to see him.

    “Starting tomorrow morning,” I ordered Phoebe, my tone absolute and merciless. “Send our hidden guards to every Serrano-owned business, farm, and mine. Cease all fund transfers to the Castro estate. Cut off their food supplies, their winter clothing, their weapon shipments, and the Royal Dragon Healer’s fees. Freeze every single copper coin.”

    Phoebe’s eyes ignited with a fierce, vengeful fire. “You mean… we cut them off completely?”

    “Completely,” I turned to face her. “Since Brittaney loathes the ‘petty chores’ of managing a Dragon Court, let’s see how her glorious dragonfire conjures bread out of thin air.”

    “Prepare ink and parchment,” I said, my gaze shifting toward the distant, towering spires of the Dragon Palace. “I am writing to the Dragon King.”

    After the last word was written, I blew the ink dry, folded the letter, and sealed it with the Serrano family crest—a snow-wolf forged in blood and iron.

    “Find the most reliable messenger among our loyal guards,” I ordered, handing the heavy envelope to Phoebe. “Ride through the night. Deliver this straight to the Dragon Palace.”

    The Unwanted Northern Heiress Shines Again Chapter 3

    Elaine Serrano POV:
    Two days had passed since my letter was dispatched. The Dragon Palace hadn’t replied yet, but I wasn’t anxious. A petition of that magnitude took time.

    For the past forty-eight hours, I had barricaded myself in my freezing chambers. Whenever the Castro servants pounded on my door, demanding I come out and scrub the new Lady’s bedsheets, I simply ignored them.

    Bang, bang, bang!

    The heavy oak door to my quarters shuddered under an impatient fist. Hazel, the personal maid of the dowager, Lady Icie, stood in the hallway with her nose pointed at the ceiling.

    “Elaine,” Hazel announced, deliberately dropping my title. “Lady Icie requests your presence in the grand solar. Immediately.”

    Phoebe bristled beside me, but I simply gave her a calming glance. I smoothed out the non-existent wrinkles on my elegant, dark velvet gown. I knew exactly why I was being summoned. The financial freeze had finally hit them where it hurt.

    When I stepped into the lavish solar, Icie Castro was sitting in the center of a plush chaise lounge. Standing right next to her was Brittaney Kirk, wearing a sheer morning gown, her arms crossed as she glared at me.

    “Elaine, my dear child, come sit,” Icie cooed, suppressing her obvious panic and forcing a tone of artificial, sickening affection.

    “I heard you froze the estate accounts out of a little… childish jealousy,” Icie began, her tone soft and placating. “I know you feel wronged. But you must understand, you’ve managed this household for three years, and you’ve done it well. Unfreeze the accounts. Pay the Royal Dragon Healer and the merchants for tomorrow’s ceremony. As long as you hold the purse strings, you will always be the true mistress of this Dragon Court in my eyes.”

    I watched her perform, my heart cold and detached. In my past life, I had believed these honeyed words, only to be drained dry.

    I gave a small, flawless smile, my eyes wide and perfectly innocent.

    “Mother, you misunderstand,” I said, my voice soft, respectful, and dripping with absolute compliance. “How could I possibly freeze the accounts out of jealousy? I am merely following Lord Brian’s strict orders.”

    Icie frowned. “What orders?”

    “Two nights ago, Lord Brian made it very clear that I am stripped of my title and am now nothing but a lowly personal maid,” I explained, blinking gently. “According to the kingdom’s customs, a personal maid has no right to manage the noble finances of a Dragon Court. It would be a severe overstep of my bounds. I wouldn’t dare touch the accounts.”

    Icie’s face stiffened. She hadn’t expected me to use Brian’s own vicious words as a shield.

    I turned my gaze to Brittaney, offering her a respectful, subservient curtsy. “Since Lady Brittaney is the true Fated Mate and the new Lady of this house, it is only natural that I make way for her. It is my duty as a servant.”

    “You…!” Icie switched tactics, her voice rising in panic. “Brittaney is a noble Dragon Knight! She will be busy with her training. How could she have time for these trivial matters? You must continue to manage the household. That is an order!”

    “I’m afraid I cannot, Mother,” I refused gently, maintaining my perfect, harmless smile. “If outsiders were to find out that a glorious Dragon Court relies on the dowry of a cursed, magic-less Dragonless to feed its warriors and pay its Healers, wouldn’t that make Lord Brian and Lady Brittaney’s Fated Love a laughingstock across the entire kingdom?”

    I paused, letting the humiliation of that truth sink into their arrogant bones.

    “I am doing this to protect House Castro’s honor,” I added smoothly. “I have already instructed my stewards to prepare the handover of all estate management. Lady Brittaney, with her powerful dragonfire, will surely have no trouble conjuring bread and paying the merchants for tomorrow’s ceremony, right?”

    Brittaney’s face turned ashen in an instant. Her arrogant glare shattered into pure panic. She knew how to swing a sword, but she didn’t have a single copper coin to run a massive estate.

    “You… you dare!” Icie shot up from her chaise lounge, the sudden movement causing her to cough violently. She pointed a shaking finger at me, her face purple with rage, completely unable to speak.

    👉 CONTINUE READING

  • The Dragon Lord’s Rejected Wife novel by Escritor apalacio

    The Dragon Lord's Rejected Wife novel by Escritor apalacio

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    For five years, I held House Ward together with my own two hands—a Dragonless wife managing an ancient dragon-blooded estate, counting the days for my husband to come home from the war.

    He came home with a pregnant mistress on his arm and a son who wore his eyes.

    He petitioned the Dragon King to make her his legal co-consort, and entered their bastard into the bloodline registry as his heir.

    His family doted on the boy and treated me like a ghost—until the boy shoved a bowl of scalding soup onto my hand at dinner.

    “A Dragonless woman is worthy of a physician’s time?” the matriarch sneered, hugging the grinning child.

    So I summoned my own physician. Paid from my own gold. And I smiled.

    Because I finally saw the game they were playing.

    I handed every key and every ledger to his clueless mistress—the very ledgers that prove House Ward is a gilded, crumbling shell held upright by my dowry alone.

    I accepted his co-consort. But I set one condition: the Rejection Ritual. A severance more final than divorce.

    They think I’m surrendering.

    They don’t know I’ve already lit the fuse.

    Let the glittering house burn. I’m done being his wife.

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    The Dragon Lord’s Rejected Wife Chapter 1

    Delphine Winters POV:
    “He’s here!”
    The shout echoed through the grand hall of Ward Manor, and my heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat of anticipation.Five years I had lived as a widow in all but name—my husband gone to a war that never sent him home—and today, that long winter was finally over.
    I smoothed the front of my silk gown. It was a magnificent creation, the color of a twilight sky, a gift from my mother. Its cost could have fed a village for a year, yet it bore no shimmering scale patterns, no threads of woven dragon-fire. A silent, constant reminder of my status: Delphine Winters, the Dragonless wife, a wealthy merchant’s daughter who had married into the ancient, dragon-blooded House Ward.
    The air smelled of dragon’s breath incense and burning oak, a scent unique to the halls of dragon-kin nobility. Across the room, the massive dragon-head fireplace roared, its controlled flames casting a warm glow on the cold stone walls. The firelight danced over the Ward family’s war banner hanging above, the red-gold threads of its dragon sigil proclaiming their heritage as Half-Blood dragons.
    My mother-in-law, Eleanor, raised a goblet toward me. The wine inside had been warmed by dragon-fire, a privilege of the nobility. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. I knew she saw me not as a daughter, but as the treasury that kept this house from crumbling.
    From the high-backed chair at the head of the room, the family matriarch, Matilda, watched me with a critical gaze, as if I were a piece of furniture that didn’t quite match the decor.
    A horn blast from outside shattered the tense quiet. The lord had returned.
    My breath caught.
    The heavy oak doors swung open. And there he was. Erwin Ward. He stood silhouetted against the fading light, taller and harder than I remembered, the cold edge of the battlefield etched into the lines of his face. He wore the uniform of a Dragon Marshal—the battlefield rank the King had granted him for the northern campaign, worn over his hereditary lordship of House Ward—its dark fabric adorned with the family’s red-gold dragon crest.
    Cheers erupted. “Welcome home, Lord Ward!”
    I moved through the crowd, my own joy a silent song. Five years of waiting, of holding this house together, were about to be rewarded with his embrace.
    His eyes met mine across the hall. But there was no joy in them. No relief. Only a flicker of something complex and evasive. My steps faltered.
    He didn’t move toward me. Instead, he stepped aside.
    And revealed the person standing behind him.
    A woman. Young, dressed in a simple linen dress that was utterly out of place among the silks and velvets of the court.
    One of her hands was held tightly in Erwin’s. The other rested protectively on her swollen belly. She was heavily pregnant.
    My mind went blank. The cheering of the crowd became a distant, muffled roar, as if I were underwater.
    Beside the woman stood a little boy, no older than four or five. His eyes were a perfect, startling copy of Erwin’s.
    Erwin cleared his throat, his voice taking on a formal, proclamatory tone I had never heard before. “This is Beryl King,” he announced. “And our firstborn son, Theo.”
    My gaze swept the room. Eleanor avoided my eyes. Matilda, however, had a look of grim satisfaction. The other family members were watching me, their faces alight with cruel curiosity.
    They all knew.
    This welcome wasn’t for me. It was for her.
    I was the last to be told, in the most humiliating way possible. I was the punchline to a joke I didn’t even know was being told.
    The blood in my veins turned to ice. My body, which the dragon-kin called “cold-blooded” because I had no dragon-fire of my own, finally felt the part.
    Erwin looked at me, his lips parting as if to speak. “Delphine, I know this is sudden, but I hope you can…”
    I didn’t let him finish.
    Slowly, gracefully, I gathered the hem of my skirt. I sank into the most perfect, most distant curtsy I could manage.
    “Welcome home, Lord Ward,” I said, my voice as still and dead as a frozen lake. “And welcome to your guests.”
    I deliberately called them “guests.” It was the only weapon I had.
    Erwin’s brow furrowed. He hadn’t expected this calm.
    Beryl flinched, shrinking behind him and looking at me with wide, wet eyes, as if I were the villain in this story.
    The boy, Theo, showed no such fear. He peeked out from behind Beryl’s legs and made a face at me.
    I turned away from them, my back straight, and walked step by step into the shadows at the edge of the hall. The light was dim there, just like my heart.
    I could feel every eye in the room on my back. Pity. Glee. Contempt.
    I lifted my chin. My pride would not let me fall apart here. I was a Winters, not some wilting flower to be trampled.
    Erwin started to follow, but a sharp look from his mother stopped him. Eleanor then moved to greet Beryl, her voice warm and welcoming, as if she were the true lady of the house.
    Watching the farce, the last wisp of warmth I held for this family vanished.
    From this day forward, I live only for myself.
    And Erwin Ward, along with his entire house, would pay for what they had done today.

    The Dragon Lord’s Rejected Wife Chapter 2

    Delphine Winters POV:
    I stood in the shadows, a ghost at my own husband’s homecoming feast. I watched as Erwin was surrounded by his family, Beryl clinging to his side like a frightened rabbit. The boy, Theo, was already perched on Matilda’s lap, being fed a piece of dragon-flame baked pastry.
    That should have been for the child I was never able to bear him—the child we might have had, had he ever truly come home to me.A sharp pain lanced through my chest, but I forced my face to remain a mask of indifference.
    Finally, Erwin broke away from the crowd and walked toward me, holding two goblets. They were made of dragon-crystal, shimmering in the firelight, vessels only dragon-kin nobility were permitted to use. He offered one to me.
    I didn’t take it. “I’m not thirsty, Lord Ward.”
    His face hardened. “Delphine, we need to talk.”
    “I think we have nothing to talk about.” I turned to leave.
    He grabbed my wrist. His hand was hot, like a brand. “Don’t be like this.”
    I looked down at his grip, my voice dripping with ice. “Please let go. Your partner is waiting for you.”
    Erwin took a deep breath, his voice low and urgent. “Beryl and Theo will be living here now. I need you to give them the Lakeview Pavilion.”
    The Lakeview Pavilion. The most beautiful, spacious residence on the entire estate. By tradition, it was the home of the lady of House Ward. I had lived there for five years. Now he was asking me to give it to another woman.
    I laughed. It was a soft, brittle sound. “Of course. It won’t be my place for much longer anyway.”
    He stared at me, stunned by my easy agreement, completely missing the meaning behind my words.
    I pulled my arm from his grasp, not giving him another glance, and walked toward the corridor that led to my own residence, the Whispering Willow Court. I could feel his gaze burning into my back, but I didn’t turn around. The moment he walked through that door with her, everything between us had turned to ash.
    When I reached my rooms, my maids, Clara and Mina, were waiting anxiously.
    “My lady,” Clara whispered, her eyes red. “They are too cruel!”
    I sank wearily into a chair as Mina poured me a cup of hot tea. “It’s useless to say that now.”
    “So we just accept it?” Mina asked, her voice tight with indignation.
    “Of course not,” I said, lifting the cup and watching the steam curl into the air. “But not now.”
    My plan would require time. Patience. And the perfect moment.
    A hurried knock came at the door. It was Erwin’s personal manservant.
    “My lady,” the servant panted. “Lady Eleanor has requested Lord Ward’s presence. The lord is… in a temper. But he asked me to inform you that he is coming to your court.”
    I raised an eyebrow. Erwin, coming here? Forced by his mother, no doubt.
    A few moments later, I heard his heavy footsteps. He hesitated outside my door before finally pushing it open. He had changed out of his uniform and into a casual tunic embroidered with the red-gold dragon of his house. It made him look less like a soldier and more like a man consumed by irritation.
    He waved my maids away, leaving us alone.
    He didn’t look at me, pacing to the window instead. “My mother sent me to explain.”
    “Explain what?” I asked, my voice flat. “How you found ‘true love’ on the battlefield? Or how you can live comfortably on my family’s wealth while supporting a mistress and child elsewhere?”
    He spun around, his face a mask of fury at being so accurately called out. “It’s not like that! Beryl…”
    He bit back his words, the anger dissolving into a frustrated sigh. “Delphine, I know I owe you. But you can’t deny there’s been no affection between us for a long time.”
    “So that’s your excuse for betrayal?” I scoffed.
    He had no answer, only pacing the room like a caged beast.
    This was all going as I’d predicted. Eleanor, that clever woman, knew where the lifeblood of House Ward truly lay. She was afraid I would cut off the funds in a fit of anger, so she forced her selfish son to come here and offer false comfort.
    A pity for them. It was too late. My heart had died the moment I saw that woman.
    Erwin finally stopped pacing. He stood before me, reaching for my hand. I pulled it away.
    “Delphine,” he said, his voice strained. “Just give me some time. I’ll handle this.”

    The Dragon Lord’s Rejected Wife Chapter 3

    Delphine Winters POV:
    I watched Erwin’s hand freeze in mid-air. A flicker of hurt crossed his face, but it stirred no sympathy in me.
    “Handle this?” I repeated, my voice laced with undisguised mockery. “Is your way of handling this to ask me to give the mistress’s residence to your lover?”
    His expression turned ugly, a mixture of guilt and impatience. “Delphine, it’s different! Beryl… she saved my life!”
    He finally said it. The great, noble reason.
    “In the Blackwood of the North,” he began, his voice low and colored with memory, “I was ambushed by enemy dragon-fire. My Dragon Core was nearly shattered. The burns of enemy flame could not be healed by any herb in the borderlands, and my shattered guards lay dead around me. I should have died in that snow. But Beryl—a Dragonless woman with nothing—found me bleeding and burning, and she refused to let me die. She dragged me back from the brink and kept me alive for three months.”
    He did not say it, but I understood what he was leaving out: a common herb gatherer could not heal a wound of dragon-fire. What Beryl had saved was his body—the fever, the bleeding, the broken bones of a fallen dragon. The rest, the Dragon Core he said was “nearly” shattered, his own dragon’s constitution must have clawed back from the edge on its own, slowly, over those three months. She had kept him alive long enough for his soul to survive. That was the debt he owed her—not a cure, but a life.
    I listened silently. I listened as he described her bravery, her gentleness. I listened to the undisguised love in his voice.
    Every word was a shard of ice driving into my heart. And then I realized my heart was already numb. I couldn’t even feel the pain anymore.
    “So, to repay her for saving your life, you destroy our five-year marriage? You destroy my five years of waiting?” I asked calmly.
    “I’m not destroying it!” he retorted, his voice rising. “I can take her as my second partner! Delphine, among dragon-kin, a lord may take more than one partner—this is permitted!”
    “Permitted is not the same as normal.” I cut him off. “It is a rare thing, and a shameful one, and it is not normal. Not for me.”
    “It’s not up to you!” His patience finally snapped. He pulled a scroll from his tunic and threw it on the table.
    It was bound in black leather, stamped with the golden sigil of the Dragon God. I recognized it. A command from the Dragon King.
    “A co-partner must be entered into the bloodline registry—it touches the succession and the inheritance of my house—so I have already petitioned the King and received his permission,” he announced, his voice dripping with condescension, trying to crush me with the weight of royal authority. “By this decree, Beryl King will be a legal co-partner of House Ward, and Theo our registered firstborn.”
    I stared at the Dragon King’s Command. It was a death sentence for my love, my dignity.
    I started to laugh. I truly laughed, so hard that tears pricked my eyes.
    Erwin was bewildered. “What are you laughing at?”
    “I’m laughing at myself, for being such a fool.” I stopped, my gaze turning cold. “Erwin Ward, have you forgotten who pulled House Ward back from the brink of bankruptcy five years ago?”
    “Who filled your empty vaults with chests of Winters family gold? Whose dowry allowed you to maintain the facade of a Dragon Lord, to afford to even go to that damned war?”
    Every question I fired made his face grow paler.
    “I bought your family’s honor with my family’s wealth. And what did I get in return? I waited for five years like a widow, only for you to bring home a pregnant mistress and an illegitimate son, and to use a royal command to tell me I must share my husband!”
    My voice grew louder, five years of humiliation and rage pouring out of me.
    “You are using my money to raise your lover and your bastard, and you expect me to be grateful for the arrangement? Erwin Ward, is your face made of dragon scales?”
    He staggered back under the force of my words, his face a mottled mess of red and white. He couldn’t form a single sentence.
    “Delphine, I…”
    “Get out,” I said, pointing to the door. My voice was quiet, but it held the unshakeable force of a final judgment.
    He stared at me, his eyes wide with shock and disbelief. In his mind, I had always been the docile, obedient wife.
    We locked eyes, the air crackling with tension.
    This was the first time in our five years of marriage that we had truly fought. And it was the first time I had ever told him to get out.
    He looked like he wanted to argue, but I just turned my back on him, a gesture of final dismissal.
    Another word from him would make me sick.
    Finally, he stormed out, slamming the door so hard the windows rattled in their frames.
    The room fell into a dead silence. I slowly sank to the floor, a deep chill seeping into my bones.
    Clara and Mina rushed in, helping me to my feet.
    “My lady, are you alright?”
    I shook my head, steadying myself on the table. The Dragon King’s Command lay there like a venomous snake, its golden sigil mocking me. The break was complete. It had already begun.

    👉 CONTINUE READING

  • Dump One Loser, Gain Six Husbands. by Zhao Da

    Dump One Loser, Gain Six Husbands. by Zhao Da
    👉 READ NOW

    Anja woke up in an interstellar empire where females were precious assets-and promptly got dumped by her arrogant fiancé.

    He waited for her to cry. She laughed in his face.

    With a single thumbprint, she dissolved the marriage, kicked him out with security drones, and walked straight to the government assessment center. The test revealed something impossible: an S-Class psionic rating, the highest in a century.

    Now five elite, beast-eared warriors are being dispatched to her estate. They’re dangerous. Possessive. And genetically engineered to worship her.

    But Anja doesn’t just want protection. She wants power. Every corrupted warrior she purifies makes her stronger. Every Hive Core she absorbs pushes her abilities further. And every Consort she claims adds a new weapon to her arsenal.

    Her ex wanted her to be nothing. Too bad for him-she’s about to become everything.

    👉 READ NOW

    Dump One Loser, Gain Six Husbands. Chapter 1

    Anja’s eyes snapped open.
    A spike of pain, sharp and blinding, shot through her skull. It felt like her brain being split in two. She gasped, a ragged sound in the dead quiet of the room, her hand flying to her forehead as if she could physically hold the pieces of her mind together.
    The bed was wrong.
    It was too soft, the sheets like cool silk against her skin. A low hum vibrated through the mattress, a subtle, calming frequency. Her bedroom in her tiny off-campus apartment had a lumpy mattress and scratchy polyester sheets.
    Memories, not her own, crashed into her consciousness. The Commonwealth. A sprawling interstellar empire. Genetic corruption. Psionic abilities. The ratio of females to males was one to one hundred thousand. Females were rare, precious assets, revered wherever they went. A society where matrimonial contracts were brokered by a central authority dedicated to finding males worthy of their scarce females.
    And a name. Kenny Mcdaniel. Her fiancé.
    Before she could fully process any of it, a voice rang out from the doorway. “Even if I die, even if I get exiled to a barren mining planet, I will never form a bond with you!”
    The door to the bedroom slammed open, the sound cracking through the silence like a gunshot.
    A man strode in. He was tall, with sandy blond hair and a suit that was trying too hard to look expensive. It was tailored just a little too tight across the shoulders, the fabric a synthetic blend that caught the light with a cheap sheen. He carried himself with an unearned arrogance, his chin tilted up as he looked down his nose at her.
    Kenny Mcdaniel.
    The name clicked into place with a fresh wave of nausea.
    He sneered, a curl of his lip that was meant to be disdainful but only made him look petulant. “Finally awake, are we? Don’t bother putting on a show. I’m not here to play games.”
    Anja just stared at him, her mind a whirlwind of two lives colliding. One was a college student from Earth, drowning in student loans and surviving on instant noodles. The other was Anja Compton, heiress to a minor noble house, betrothed to this… this peacock. And from the memories of the original Anja, she could see the woman had been utterly blind. She had cried over him, pleaded for his attention, and rearranged her entire life to please him. For what? For a male of thoroughly average looks—decent, but nothing special—whose only remarkable feature was his physique, which was standard issue for any male who had completed the mandatory academy training. He had been handed a priceless gem on a silver platter and somehow convinced himself he deserved better. What a joke.
    “I’m here to make things perfectly clear,” Kenny continued, pacing in front of her bed like a lawyer in a courtroom drama. “This political arrangement our families cooked up? It’s over. I’ve found someone I actually love. Someone who understands me. I will not sacrifice my happiness for some dusty old family alliance.”
    He punctuated his speech by slapping a thin, transparent data slate onto the polished wood of the nightstand. The clack was sharp and final. An electronic contract glowed on its surface: Agreement for Matrimonial Annulment.
    “So you can take your pathetic, clingy affections and find someone else to bother,” he spat, his voice rising with theatrical fervor. “I’m telling you now, Anja. Even if I die, even if I get exiled to a barren mining planet, I will never form a bond with you!”
    Anja slowly pushed herself up, the silk sheets pooling around her waist. The headache was receding, replaced by a strange, icy calm. The Anja from Earth thought he was a joke. A weak, insecure man puffing up his chest to feel powerful in front of a woman he perceived as weaker. It was pathetic. And frankly, hilarious.
    She let a slow, deliberate gaze travel from his cheap shoes up to his self-satisfied face. Then she met his eyes.
    “Are you done?” she asked. Her voice was quiet, devoid of the hysteria he was clearly expecting.
    Kenny froze mid-stride. The triumphant look on his face faltered, replaced by a flicker of confusion. “What?”
    “Your performance,” Anja clarified, leaning back against the plush headboard. She crossed her arms. “The big, dramatic speech. Was that the grand finale, or is there an encore?”
    He stared at her, his mouth opening and closing silently. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. She was supposed to cry. To beg. To make a scene that would validate his decision and allow him to storm out as the wronged, romantic hero.
    “You think this is a joke?” he stammered, his voice losing its confident edge. He puffed his chest out again, a desperate attempt to regain control. “I’m serious, Anja! I’m leaving you!”
    “I heard you the first time,” she said, her tone bored. “You want to end the engagement. Great. Let’s do it.”
    She didn’t even glance at the data slate he had thrown down. She simply looked towards the empty air near the door.
    “Unit 01,” she commanded.
    A soft, synthesized voice replied instantly from an unseen speaker. “Yes, Mistress Anja.”
    “Access the Federal Marriage Center,” she ordered. “Project the annulment agreement and initiate the signing protocol.”
    “At once.”
    A holographic panel of brilliant blue light materialized in the air beside the bed, displaying the contract in crisp, clear text. At the bottom, a glowing box waited for a biometric signature.
    Kenny’s face went slack with shock. “What are you doing? That’s not—you can’t just—”
    Anja ignored him. She reached out, her fingers steady, and pressed her thumb against the glowing box. The system chimed, a clear, pleasant tone that echoed in the tense silence.
    BIOMETRIC SIGNATURE VERIFIED. ANJA COMPTON HAS UNILATERALLY DISSOLVED THE MATRIMONIAL CONTRACT. STATUS: FINALIZED.
    The words burned in the air for a moment before the holographic panel dissolved.
    Almost immediately, a series of chimes sounded from the room’s speaker system. A new, distinctly official synthesized voice read out three consecutive messages:
    “Message from the Federal Marriage Center: Esteemed Lady Anja, your matrimonial contract has been successfully dissolved. You are now returned to single status.”
    “Message from the Federal Marriage Center: Esteemed Lady Anja, there are hundreds of millions of males in the Commonwealth. If one lacks vision, there will always be another. Please do not let a male with poor taste affect your mood.”
    “Message from the Federal Marriage Center: Esteemed Lady Anja, should you desire, the Federal Marriage Center is ready at any moment to match you with new husbands. No upper limit.”
    Kenny stared at the empty space where the contract had been, then back at her. His expression was a comical mix of disbelief and panic. He had come here for a fight, for drama, for a validation of his own importance. He had not, under any circumstances, expected this easy, dismissive acceptance.
    “You… you just signed it?” he said, his voice a weak squeak. “Just like that? This is a trick. Some kind of game to make me feel guilty.”
    Anja gave him a small, pitying smile. “There’s no game, Kenny. You wanted out. You’re out. Congratulations. The door is over there. Get out of my house.”
    The shift was instantaneous. The moment she finished speaking, the AI’s synthesized voice spoke again, its tone now stripped of all warmth.
    “Warning,” Unit 01 announced. “Kenny Mcdaniel, your security clearance for this property has been revoked. You are now classified as an unauthorized intruder. You have ten seconds to vacate the premises before defensive measures are deployed.”
    A cold, red light began to sweep across the room, originating from a sensor near the ceiling.
    Kenny paled. “Your… your security? You can’t-“
    He was cut off by a heavy, mechanical whirring sound. Two panels in the ceiling slid open, and a pair of sleek, gunmetal-gray security drones descended. Their optical sensors glowed with the same menacing red light, and the barrels of their plasma weapons swiveled to lock directly onto his chest.
    Fear, primal and undignified, washed over Kenny’s face. All his practiced arrogance vanished. He threw his hands up in a gesture of surrender.
    “Okay! Okay! I’m going!” he yelped, stumbling backward.
    The drones advanced on him silently, their movements perfectly synchronized, herding him towards the door. He tripped over the edge of an expensive rug, catching himself on the doorframe. He looked back at her, his eyes wide with a mixture of terror and wounded pride, as if he wanted to say one last thing to salvage his dignity.
    Anja didn’t give him the chance.
    “Unit 01,” she said, her voice dripping with finality. “Close the door.”
    The heavy, soundproofed metal door slid shut with a deafening thud, cutting off his last pathetic look.
    Silence returned to the room.
    Anja fell back against the pillows, the silk cool against her neck. A long, slow breath escaped her lips. She felt a profound sense of release, of lightness. The headache was gone. The confusion was gone. She thought about the Federal Marriage Center’s final message—match her with new husbands. And the words “no upper limit” echoed in her memory from the original Anja’s knowledge of the law. A villa this large, five stories and hundreds of square meters per floor… it would be a shame to live in it alone, wouldn’t it? She wasn’t admitting anything. She was just curious.
    For the first time in this new world, she felt free.

    Dump One Loser, Gain Six Husbands. Chapter 2

    A new light bloomed in the room, soft and golden. It wasn’t sunlight.
    Anja turned her head. A holographic panel, the color of warm honey, floated in the air where the blue contract had been. It bore the official crest of The Commonwealth Eugenics & Pairing Directorate.
    A gentle, synthesized female voice, far more sophisticated than Unit 01’s, filled the room.
    “Congratulations, Citizen Anja Compton,” it purred. “Our records indicate you have successfully terminated your betrothal contract. Your status has been updated to ‘Unbonded.’ Welcome to a new chapter of your life.”
    The panel shimmered, and text began to scroll, listing the benefits that were now active for her.
    Federal Income Tax: Exempt.
    Property Tax, Core Worlds Sector: Exempt.
    Priority Purchase Rights, All A-Class Residential Zones: Activated.
    Tier-One Medical and Nutritional Subsidies: Activated.
    Personal Security Detail Allotment: Pending Review.
    Anja felt a breath catch in her throat. This wasn’t just a breakup; it was like winning the lottery. She had been vaguely aware of the laws from the memories she’d inherited, but seeing them laid out like this was staggering.
    “Unit 01,” she said, her voice a little hoarse. “Pull up the Commonwealth’s legal statutes on marriage and asset sharing.”
    “Of course, Mistress,” the house AI replied.
    The golden panel was replaced by a dense wall of legal text.
    “Summarize,” Anja commanded, not in the mood to read hundreds of pages of legalese.
    Unit 01’s voice began a concise audio summary. It explained that due to the scarcity of females, the law was designed for their absolute protection and prosperity. A bonded male’s assets, income, and even inheritances were automatically and irrevocably linked to his Matron’s primary account. He was, in financial terms, an extension of her.
    And then came the part that made Anja’s jaw drop.
    “There is no legal upper limit to the number of Consorts a female may bond with,” Unit 01 stated calmly. “The formation of a Consortium is considered a private matter, encouraged by the Directorate as a means of ensuring genetic diversity and providing comprehensive support for the Matron.”
    No limit.
    Polygamy. No, polyandry. And it was legal. Encouraged, even.
    Anja thought back to Earth. The endless, bitter divorces. The fights over money. The prenuptial agreements that were more like business contracts than declarations of love. Here, the system was brutally simple: everything belonged to the woman.
    A laugh escaped her lips. It started as a small chuckle, then grew into a full-throated, joyous peel of laughter that echoed in the luxurious bedroom. This wasn’t a dystopia. It was a custom-built paradise.
    The system seemed to anticipate her thoughts. A new, shimmering button appeared on the golden panel: Initiate New Matching Cycle?
    Her laughter subsided into a wide, mischievous grin. She was tired of being sad and pathetic for a man like Kenny. It was time to see what this new world really had to offer.
    She tapped the button.
    The panel transformed into something that looked like a high-end, exclusive dating app. Profiles began to slide across the screen, each one featuring a stunningly handsome man. There were soldiers with chiseled jaws and intense eyes, businessmen in sharp suits with predatory smiles, artists with soulful gazes and long, clever fingers. Their stats were listed beside their photos: psionic grade, genetic lineage, net worth, military honors. It was a catalog of the most elite men in the Commonwealth.
    Anja scrolled, her interest piqued. She noticed a small tag on some of the profiles: Latent Bestial Morphology.
    Curious, she tapped on one. The profile expanded. In addition to the man’s primary photo, there were smaller, secondary images showing him with a pair of sharp, tufted wolf ears and a thick, bushy tail. The description noted these features were highly sensitive and could manifest during moments of heightened emotion.
    Fluffy ears. A tail.
    Anja felt an unexpected jolt of interest, a deep, primal pull that all the polished, perfectly suited men had never once managed to inspire.
    She quickly filled out the matching preference form that appeared at the bottom of the screen. Age range, psionic compatibility, asset level… and under ‘Physical Preferences,’ she decisively checked the box for Bestial Traits.
    Her finger hovered over the ‘Submit’ button. For a fleeting second, a flicker of the old Anja’s insecurity surfaced. The girl who thought she wasn’t good enough, the girl who had been convinced by Kenny that she was plain and worthless.
    Then the image of Kenny’s arrogant, sneering face flashed in her mind.
    She pressed the button. Hard.
    A confirmation message appeared: Application successfully uploaded to the Federal Central Database. Deep-level compatibility analysis is now underway.
    “Mistress,” Unit 01’s voice cut in, its tone impeccably polite, “Since you are celebrating your newfound freedom, shall I prepare a celebratory breakfast?”
    “Yes, absolutely,” Anja said, feeling lighter than she had in years. “Eggs Benedict. And real coffee. Black.”
    “An excellent choice.”
    She threw back the silk covers and stepped out of bed. Her bare feet sank into a thick wool carpet that was warm to the touch. The room was vast, with a walk-in closet the size of her old apartment and an adjoining bathroom that looked like a marble sanctuary.
    She walked to the massive floor-to-ceiling window that made up one entire wall of the room. It overlooked a sprawling garden, with manicured lawns, a sparkling blue pool, and a forest of strange, beautiful alien trees in the distance.
    This was her life now. Safety. Luxury. Control.
    A soft, insistent chime broke her reverie. She turned back to the golden panel still hovering by her bed. A red warning icon was flashing.
    CRITICAL DATA MISSING. PSIONIC POTENTIAL ASSESSMENT: PENDING.
    The system’s gentle voice returned, now with a note of official firmness. “Citizen Compton, our records indicate you have not completed the mandatory Psionic Potential Assessment. This is a prerequisite for matching with Alpha-Plus class Consorts. Your matching cycle has been temporarily suspended.”
    Before she could even process that, the panel changed again, displaying a new document. It was an official, non-negotiable appointment.
    EMERGENCY APPOINTMENT: PSIONIC POTENTIAL TESTING CENTER. CAPITAL PRIME. TODAY.
    Anja stared at the screen. The original Anja had never gone. Kenny had told her it was a waste of time, that she was probably a worthless F-grade, and the embarrassment wouldn’t be worth it. He had systematically chipped away at her confidence until she believed him.
    Now, that little omission was standing between her and a lineup of handsome men with fluffy tails.
    Well, she thought with a grim smile. They were about to find out just how “worthless” she was.

    Dump One Loser, Gain Six Husbands. Chapter 3

    Anja read the appointment details again. The words mandatory and compulsory were highlighted in a severe, official red. Failure to attend would result in an indefinite freeze on her matching rights and a suspension of some of her newly acquired federal benefits.
    They weren’t asking. They were telling.
    “Mistress,” Unit 01’s voice chimed in, a flicker of something that might have been urgency in its synthesized tone, “You may wish to view the GalacticNet. Your status change has been… noted.”
    “Show me,” Anja said.
    The large window overlooking the garden dimmed, turning into a massive screen. It displayed the landing page of the most popular news network in the Commonwealth. Her own face stared back at her from the headline banner.
    ANJA COMPTON, HEIRESS OF HOUSE COMPTON, TERMINATES BETROTHAL. RETURNS TO UNBONDED STATUS.
    Below the headline, a ‘Trending Topics’ sidebar was dominated by her name. AnjaIsFree. ComptonConsortium. NewHopeForAlphaPlus.
    The screen began to populate with comments from a live public forum. Thousands of them, scrolling by in a dizzying cascade.
    “Finally! I knew Mcdaniel wasn’t good enough for her!”
    “An untested female from a noble line! This is the biggest news of the year!”
    “The matching pool is about to get a lot more interesting…”
    “Please, Mistress Compton, if you ever consider new consorts, review my profile. Class A psionic ability, five million credits, and I cook.”
    Anja stared, dumbfounded. It was one thing to read about the value of females in the abstract. It was another to see this raw, desperate, public thirst for her attention. The old Anja had wasted years crying over one mediocre male who didn’t want her, while thousands across the Commonwealth were practically begging for her attention. What a joke.
    She accessed the original Anja’s memories, searching for context. The Commonwealth was plagued by a low-level genetic corruption that affected all males. It was a slow-acting poison, a consequence of their psionic abilities, that caused irritability, aggression, and eventually, a descent into feral madness. The only cure, the only way to soothe the corruption, was the purifying psionic energy of a female. Males who lacked a female to purify them were forced to rely on suppressants—agonizing injections with devastating side effects.
    The demand was infinite. The supply was critically low.
    And an untested female, especially one from a good family, was the ultimate wild card. She could be a useless F-Grade, or she could be a world-changing A-Grade. The uncertainty, the sheer potential, was intoxicating. It was like a lottery where the jackpot was salvation.
    “Unit 01,” she said, her voice hard. “What’s the fastest way to get to the testing center in Capital Prime?”
    “The journey by private shuttle would take approximately forty-five minutes, Mistress. However, it appears alternative arrangements have been made.”
    Before Anja could ask what that meant, a low, powerful thrumming sound vibrated through the floor. It grew rapidly into a deafening roar, the sound of massive engines displacing a huge volume of air. The delicate curtains on her window whipped inward as a powerful downdraft hit the side of the house.
    Anja rushed to the window, peering up into the sky.
    A ship was descending. It wasn’t a sleek, civilian shuttle. It was a beast of a machine, matte black and brutally angular, a military transport vessel designed for assault landings. The official, silver crest of the Eugenics Directorate was emblazoned on its side.
    It settled onto the main lawn with a final, ground-shaking whump, its landing struts sinking inches into the perfectly manicured grass. A ramp hissed open at its rear. Twelve soldiers marched out in perfect synchronization. They were clad in black tactical armor, their faces hidden behind reflective visors, and they carried heavy-looking plasma rifles. They moved with terrifying efficiency, forming two perfect lines of six leading from the ramp towards the front door of the estate.
    A voice, amplified and resonant, boomed from the ship’s external speakers. It was deep, respectful, and utterly commanding.
    “Mistress Anja Compton. On behalf of the Commonwealth Eugenics Directorate, we are your designated escort to the Capital Prime Testing Center. Please prepare for immediate departure.”
    Anja stood frozen, her heart hammering against her ribs. This wasn’t a taxi. This was a military operation. For her. Was she being escorted to a testing center or to a war zone?
    “Mistress, I have taken the liberty of selecting an appropriate outfit for the occasion,” Unit 01 said, its voice cutting through her shock. A panel on the wall of her closet slid open, revealing a simple but elegant outfit: dark, well-fitted trousers, a cream-colored silk blouse, and soft leather boots. It was understated, comfortable, but undeniably expensive. “I would advise you to change quickly.”
    Numbly, Anja did as she was told. She dressed with fumbling fingers, her mind still reeling from the sight of the armored ship on her lawn. This was real. This was happening.
    Guided by Unit 01’s soft light prompts, she walked through the silent, cavernous halls of the estate to the grand front entrance. She took a deep breath, her hand resting on the cool metal of the door handle. She thought about the comments she had just read—males begging for her attention, showing off their credits and their abilities. And then she thought about Kenny’s parting words: “Even if I die, even if I get exiled to a barren mining planet, I will never form a bond with you.” A small, bitter smile crossed her lips. He had spent years convincing her she was nothing. In a few minutes, the entire Commonwealth would know the truth.
    Then she pulled it open.
    The force of the soldiers’ collective gaze was a physical thing. They stood perfectly still, rifles held at a parade rest, but she could feel the intensity of their focus. It wasn’t threatening. It was… worshipful.
    The man at the front of the line, clearly the captain, took a step forward. He was taller than the others, his armor bearing subtle markings of rank. He removed his helmet, revealing a stern, handsome face with a sharp jaw and piercing gray eyes. He held the helmet under his arm and then, to Anja’s utter astonishment, he dropped to one knee before her on the stone steps.
    “Mistress Compton,” he said, his head bowed, “It is an honor. We have prepared a sterilized walkway for your convenience.”
    As he spoke, a thin, metallic carpet unrolled from the base of the ship’s ramp, gliding silently across the lawn to stop at her feet. It was a simple, practical measure to keep her boots from getting damp from the morning dew. It was also the most ridiculously reverent gesture she had ever witnessed.
    “Th-thank you, Captain,” she managed, her voice barely a whisper.
    The captain’s head dipped lower. “The honor is all ours, Ma’am.”
    Feeling as though she were in a dream, Anja stepped onto the walkway. She walked between the two lines of silent, armored sentinels, and she could feel that beneath their visors, their gazes devoutly tracked her every move. The air buzzed with their restrained energy.
    She stepped up the ramp and into the ship’s interior. It wasn’t the spartan, utilitarian hold she expected. It was a VIP cabin, furnished with plush, cream-colored leather chairs, polished chrome accents, and soft, indirect lighting. It looked more like the inside of a private jet than a military transport.
    The ramp hissed shut behind her, sealing her inside and cutting off the outside world. A small, silent service droid glided up to her, offering a chilled glass of champagne on a silver tray.
    Anja sank into one of the chairs, the leather sighing under her weight. She took the glass, the crystal cool against her trembling fingers. Through the cabin’s reinforced viewport, she watched her new home, her new life, shrink below as the ship ascended with breathtaking speed.
    A timer appeared on a small screen embedded in the armrest of her chair.
    Estimated Time to Arrival: 12 minutes.
    She stared at the descending numbers, her heart beating a frantic rhythm against her ribs. There was no going back now.

    👉 CONTINUE READING

  • One Girl, A Pack Of Beasts by Brass Wren

    One Girl, A Pack Of Beasts by Brass Wren
    👉 READ NOW

    Lillian woke in a werecreature universe as a total loser.

    Good news was that women ruled here and could take multiple mates, yet she still ended up as the one everyone looked down on. Compared to her talented sister at every turn, she watched her first match get stolen and her next four mates reject her without mercy.

    The first mate was the King of Succubine himself. On their very first meeting, he warned Lillian that he was only staying long enough to recover from his injuries-and that there could never be anything between them.

    The second mate was a merman. He took one look at her and said he had no interest in a loser like her, tossing her some cash so she could break off their bond herself.

    The third mate was the progenitor vampire-over a thousand years old. He admitted to admiring her sister instead and made it clear he had no interest in a layabout like Lillian.

    Lillian cut every bond and chose her own path instead. But as she rose higher and higher, those same men returned, full of regret and begging her to look at them again.

    The fourth mate was a werewolf Lillian had rescued from an underground fighting ring. She thought he might actually stay-until he revealed himself as royalty. And of course, he wanted to break their bond for more power.

    👉 READ NOW

    One Girl, A Pack Of Beasts Chapter 1 Breaking The Bonds

    “Lillian Clark, I’ll ask you one last time,” Waylon Edwards said, his voice sharp with impatience. “Are you going to break the bonds or not?”

    Without rushing, Lillian set the knife in her hand aside and placed a bag of beast cores on the table. Blood continued to drip from her palm. “After everything I’ve done for the two of you… has it never been enough?”

    Disgust showed plainly on Waylon’s face as he looked her over. Her appearance was unkempt, far from what he believed a female should be.

    “With that F-level spiritual power of yours, you’ve never been able to soothe either Jaycob or me,” he said coldly. “All these years, it’s been your younger sister helping us behind your back. To us, she’s the one we truly recognize as our domina. If you actually care about us, then end the bonds.”

    Lillian’s answer came without hesitation. “If that’s how you feel, then I’ll give you what you want.”

    She paused, her eyes settling on him. “But there’s something you need to settle first. We’ve been married for years, and to make up for my lack of spiritual power, I handed over every beast core I earned hunting aberrant beasts. Altogether, that’s worth five million stellar coins. Pay me back, and you’re free to go.”

    Surprise flickered in Waylon’s eyes, quickly replaced by excitement. He had been pushing for this separation for a year and never thought she would finally agree.

    He didn’t have many stellar coins, but if he joined forces with Jaycob Warren and borrowed the rest, they could still pay her back. He didn’t hesitate to agree.

    Lillian moved just as quickly. She pulled up the agreement on her communicator, signed it, and sent it over. “Get the money transferred by tonight. We’ll finalize everything at the Notary Hall tomorrow afternoon.”

    It had only been a month since Lillian took over this body, and along with it came every memory that belonged to its original owner.

    The world she now lived in was shaped by something known as Yggdrasil, something that governed countless planets. Once males on these planets reached adulthood, they awakened esper abilities that matched their nature. To strengthen those abilities, they hunted aberrant beasts and collected beast cores. The esper ability progressed from the lowest rank, F, all the way to S Plus. The esper abilities of females were the same.

    There was, however, one critical difference. As males’ abilities advanced, they entered periods of rut. Without suppressants or a female’s spiritual power to soothe them, they risked losing control, turning into mindless creatures or even destroying themselves.

    Females were rare and highly valued, their status high. Through Yggdrasil’s system, a female could be assigned multiple males, and those males were expected to remain completely loyal to her. Only a female held the power to sever the bonds with them.

    The body Lillian now occupied belonged to someone who shared her name, yet their lives couldn’t have been more different. This Lillian had been considered the least capable female in her family, stuck with an F-level spiritual power.

    Her younger sister, Justine Clark, stood in complete contrast. From birth, she possessed an S-level spiritual power, something extremely rare. Many females never advanced even a single level in spiritual power, so someone like Justine held immense value. Their family treated her as their pride, giving her the best of everything. Lillian, meanwhile, had to struggle for whatever she wanted. Even then, anything she managed to claim would often be taken by Justine.

    The previous Lillian had always known her limits. She lacked the spiritual power needed to soothe the two A-level males bonded to her when she came of age, Waylon and Jaycob. To make up for it, she spent her days fighting in the Aberrant Thicket, pushing herself to gather more beast cores for them.

    At home, she lowered herself to doing everything. She handled the cooking, washed their clothes, and kept the place clean, yet neither of those men ever warmed to her.

    Later that evening, Lillian sat down to eat with her neighbor, Rosalyn Scott, and told her about her decision to end her bonds to Waylon and Jacob the next day.

    Rosalyn’s reaction came instantly. “That’s unbelievable! They actually asked for that? How dare them? You’ve been nothing but good to them!”

    Lillian didn’t seem bothered. “Justine enticed them away from me during the first year after the bonds were formed. I have never shared a bed with them. And all I could do to soothe them is pat them on the head. There’s no point in forcing them to stay with me.”

    Rosalyn fell silent for a while, clearly shocked. Then, her expression softened as she remembered Lillian’s weak spiritual power.

    She said, “You don’t need to worry too much. The Federal Directorate won’t leave a female without mates. Once you break the bonds, Yggdrasil will assign new males to you.”

    Lillian let out a frustrated sigh and replied, “That’s the problem. I don’t want to be bonded again. It always ends the same way. The males won’t like me.”

    She could already see how things would play out. If she ended up bonded to capable males, Justine would step in again and take them away, just like before.

    Rosalyn looked Lillian over from head to toe before speaking again. “You don’t really have a choice. Bonding is required, and new males will come looking for you whether you want it or not. At least try to change how you present yourself. You always look like you just came out of the wild. Even if males don’t hold the same status as females, you should still try to leave a good first impression.”

    For years, Lillian had dressed only for survival. Hunting aberrant beasts and gathering herbs in the Aberrant Thicket had shaped her habits, leaving no room for concern about how she looked.

    Now, a thought crossed her mind. Maybe Waylon and Jaycob had kept their distance because of how disheveled she looked? If that was the reason, then in her eyes, they were nothing more than shallow males.

    A quiet sigh escaped her. “Alright, I get it.”

    Rosalyn handed her a ticket. “Here. It’s for an underground fighting match. Go watch something fun and take your mind off things. The bar owner gave the tickets to me. We can go together.”

    Lillian accepted the ticket. “Thanks.”

    The following day, after giving it some thought, Lillian decided to take a short break. The money from Waylon and Jaycob had already been transferred, so there was nothing holding her back.

    She started by taking a long shower. After that, she used her communicator to order several elegant dresses and followed tutorials to style her hair into soft curls.

    Her natural beauty was actually remarkable. Her skin was smooth, and her features could easily rival Justine’s. Years spent outdoors had shaped her body into something balanced and strong. There was firmness in her muscles, yet her movements carried a light, controlled ease.

    When Rosalyn saw Lillian, she froze in place, her reaction almost comical. It took a moment before she found her voice again. “Why would you hide a face like that before? Even without strong spiritual power, males would still be drawn to you. Waylon and Jaycob would definitely regret leaving you!”

    One Girl, A Pack Of Beasts Chapter 2 She Bought The Dying Werewolf In The Arena

    Lillian gave a small smile, thinking that Rosalyn was only saying that to comfort her.

    However, when they showed up at the underground fighting arena, she indeed caught the attention of many males around her.

    Rosalyn located their seats, guided Lillian over, and sat down with her. The fight was already underway, a brutal scene with fists flying and legs kicking, the audience watching with excitement.

    At first, Lillian felt no real interest in what was happening. That changed when a werewolf was hauled onto the platform in chains. His gray ears were alert, and his eyes glowed with a dull, reddish hue. Lillian’s focus locked onto him immediately.

    The werewolf was in rut.

    The emcee’s voice rang out with excitement. “Here we have a slave who has been stuck in rut for a long time, rejected by every female, deprived of food for an entire week, and left without even a drop of water. Whoever manages to take him down will earn a hundred high-grade beast cores!”

    One after another, fighters stepped up to the fight, but every single one was violently overpowered and thrown off the stage by the uncontrollable werewolf.

    As the rounds went on, his wounds increased. One of his claws was broken. He remained crouched on the stage, blood spilling from his mouth as he coughed, yet he refused to make a sound, enduring the pain in silence.

    When the final horn echoed through the arena, he raised his head. By chance, his bloodshot eyes met Lillian’s gaze. The mix of fury and despair in his look made her press her lips together.

    Rosalyn inhaled deeply and said with a trace of pity, “He’s said to be from the Rogue Planet. He has been kept here for quite some time. I remember seeing him here last time; he’s got a criminal past and no family, just scraping by on his own. Honestly, this could be the last time he steps into the ring alive.”

    It was common knowledge that a male left too long without a female soothing him would eventually lose control and destroy himself.

    Lillian’s expression grew somber. Something about his loneliness struck a familiar chord in her.

    In the end, the werewolf gathered what little strength he had left, defeated his final opponent, and then collapsed, looking as though he might die at any moment.

    Seeing that, Lillian suddenly asked, “How do I buy him?”

    Rosalyn stared at her in shock. “What? You want to buy him?”

    Lillian tilted her head slightly. “Just for fun. That’s allowed, isn’t it?”

    Rosalyn tried to talk Lillian out of it but eventually failed. She knew the arena’s owner and brought Lillian to meet him and explained her intention to buy the werewolf.

    The owner looked taken aback. “You mean you want to buy Samuel? I was already planning to get rid of him. My lady, if you take him, you’ll spend an enormous amount trying to treat him; it’s simply not worth it.”

    Ignoring that, Lillian crouched down in front of Samuel Burton, who had reverted to his human form due to extreme exhaustion. Even in that state, he was strikingly handsome, with an intimidating presence. A pair of soft, furry ears still remained visible. Lillian reached out and gently stroked them.

    Samuel flinched. Startled, he abruptly sat up and was about to attack the person before him.

    But the moment he recognized Lillian as the striking, gentle-looking female he had noticed earlier in the crowd, his raised claw stopped mid-swing. The hostility and lethal intent in his eyes faded. He couldn’t bring himself to hurt an innocent female. So, he lowered his head and curled into himself, silently refusing her touch.

    Lillian chose not to bother him anymore. She had always moved on her own or occasionally teamed up with low-tier hunting groups, traveling to the outer edges of the Aberrant Thicket to hunt small aberrant beasts and collect herbs just to get by. Still, the earnings were barely enough, and the low-grade beast cores she absorbed had no real effect on improving her spiritual power.

    She began to consider that this werewolf could help her venture deeper into the Aberrant Thicket, where she might find quality herbs and stronger beast cores to elevate her spiritual power.

    At the very least, it seemed like a feasible plan.

    Lillian spoke calmly. “I’ll pay one million.”

    She turned her attention to the owner and said firmly, “That’s a fair deal for you, isn’t it? Even if he recovers, the cost of suppressants alone is extremely high. And without a female to soothe him, he won’t be able to return to the arena anyway.”

    She wasn’t wrong. At this point, Samuel was a rogue werewolf with no real value. After a moment of consideration, the owner accepted her offer.

    After taking Samuel out of the underground arena, Lillian noticed her communicator buzzing nonstop with missed calls and messages. She opened one of the video messages.

    Jaycob appeared on the screen, his face flushed with anger as he shouted, “Lillian, we’ve been waiting for you at the Notary Hall forever! Don’t test our patience! You already took the money and signed the separation agreement. Are you trying to go back on your word now?”

    Without the domina’s approval, it was impossible for the males to end the bonds on their own.

    In her rush to buy Samuel, Lillian had completely forgotten about the matter with Jaycob and Waylon.

    She quickly turned to Rosalyn. “Please take Samuel back to my place. There are medical supplies stored there. Use whatever you need and make sure he pulls through.”

    “Sure, leave it to me,” Rosalyn replied with confidence.

    By the time Lillian arrived at the Notary Hall, Waylon and Jaycob were already standing beside Justine.

    Walking up to them, Lillian said, “Sorry for keeping you waiting.”

    Waylon and Jaycob stared at her, startled, as though they didn’t recognize her right away.

    “Li-Lillian?” Jaycob’s eyes scanned her from head to toe. She did look more attractive than before, but when he noticed she was wearing a white dress just like Justine, he let out a mocking laugh, assuming she was trying to imitate Justine to win sympathy and avoid the separation.

    Waylon seemed to reach the same conclusion. Disdainfully, he said, “There’s no need for you to copy Justine. What we care about isn’t just her looks; it’s her kindness. Don’t waste your time doing something useless.”

    Justine offered a soft smile, putting on a fragile and apologetic front as she spoke to Lillian. “Lillian, I truly didn’t mean to ruin your bonds or take your mates away from you. Please don’t hold it against me, okay?”

    In her mind, Lillian was deeply attached to these two males. Seeing Lillian dressed like her today only reinforced her belief that she had come here to plead for reconciliation.

    However…

    One Girl, A Pack Of Beasts Chapter 3 She Finally Found A Way To Enhance Her Spiritual Power

    “Sure.”

    Lillian gave a short nod. She barely spared Justine a glance before heading straight for the registration desk. Instead of wasting time on pleasantries, she went straight to the point and asked the staff to stamp the documents.

    Without delay, a staff member processed everything and placed three separation certificates in her hands. A polite smile stayed on his face as he spoke. “Now that you’re registered as a single female, Yggdrasil will match you with new males. You can check your email tomorrow for the results.”

    After acknowledging him with a nod, she turned back and flicked her wrist, throwing two certificates toward Waylon and Jaycob. “It’s done. From this point on, the two of you are Justine’s fated mates.”

    Shock spread across Justine’s face as she went stiff for a moment. “Lillian, you actually broke the bonds with them? So that’s it? You don’t love them anymore?”

    A cold laugh slipped from Lillian as she shook her head. “Love? There was never anything like that between us. It was nothing more than an obligation that tied me to them. Since you’re willing to pick up what I threw away, go ahead.”

    Waylon’s anger flared at that. “Lillian, watch your mouth! You think you can talk about us like that? We refused to serve you because of Justine. She’s the one we truly love.”

    Lillian didn’t even bother responding. Arguing with them wasn’t worth her time.

    So, she left and made her way home before the sky turned dark.

    Earlier, Rosalyn had sent a message to her. She said she had given Samuel an injection that kept him alive, but his condition hadn’t improved. His mind was unstable, and he needed a suppressant or a female to soothe him as soon as possible.

    The moment Lillian arrived home, she found Samuel in the guest room. His body was hunched over on the carpet as he knelt there, and he was struggling through waves of pain. A strained sound escaped him while one of his hands had already shifted into a claw, about to hurt himself.

    Lillian’s expression hardened at the sight. She rushed forward without hesitation and caught his wrist to stop him.

    At the sight of her, Samuel went still for a second. His chest rose and fell in uneven breaths as his voice came out rough. “You shouldn’t get close to me. I might lose control and hurt you.”

    “I’m not leaving you like this.” Carefully, Lillian reached up and held his head between her hands. She tried to soothe him, letting her spiritual power flow through him in an effort to calm the storm inside him.

    Even so, the strain on Samuel’s face didn’t ease. Pain tore through him without pause. It felt like his bones were being forced apart, then crushed back together again. Something unseen seemed to press along his spine, breaking it piece by piece. The agony dragged him closer to the edge with every passing second.

    “Thank you for helping me.” Samuel realized Lillian’s ability wasn’t enough to soothe him, gritting his teeth and reaching out to push her away gently. “I’ll just face my destruction.”

    A flicker of anxiety crossed Lillian’s face. Regulations made it impossible to use suppressants on someone with a criminal record. Without a female willing to soothe him, there was no way to pull him back from this.

    She had already tried soothing him through touch, yet it hadn’t been enough. That left only one option—mating.

    It was typically reserved for a female’s fated mates.

    She had never done something like that before. Neither in her previous life nor in this one had she ever given herself to anyone.

    Still, watching Samuel struggle right in front of her, Lillian hesitated only for a brief second before making up her mind. She leaned in, steadied his head in her hands, and pressed her lips against his in a firm gesture.

    A flicker of shock crossed Samuel’s eyes the moment her lips met his. Something within him shifted in a way he couldn’t explain. He had never felt anything like this before.

    For the first time, he experienced what it felt like to be soothed by a female.

    Tension drained from his body without warning. The violent strain in his muscles eased, and the sharp pain tearing through his bones faded as if it had been pulled away by an unseen force. A tremor ran through him as relief settled in. Driven by instinct, his arms moved on their own. He circled Lillian’s waist and pulled her closer, holding her tightly against him. The need for comfort from her took over as he deepened the kiss instinctively.

    Caught off guard, Lillian lost her balance and ended up seated on his lap. Her tongue was entwined with Samuel’s, continuously licked and sucked, occasionally grazed by his sharp teeth, causing her to shiver.

    A strange sensation spread through her, leaving her mind unsteady. Not only was there a physical change in her, but spiritually, she also felt something unusual.

    Her previously depleted spiritual power suddenly swelled like a sponge absorbing water, pulling in everything that poured from him. The wild energy surrounding him flowed into her, and she turned it into her spiritual power, using it to soothe him.

    Time slipped by without her noticing. By the time the kiss finally broke, her spiritual power had been completely drained. Her body gave in, and she slumped against Samuel, her consciousness fading as exhaustion took over.

    For Samuel, the torment hadn’t fully disappeared, but the storm inside him had calmed enough for him to think clearly again.

    Carefully, he carried Lillian and laid her down on the bed. His gaze lingered on her for a moment before he chose not to lie beside her. Instead, he lowered himself to the floor and stayed there, watching her quietly. Complex emotions lingered in his eyes.

    He couldn’t understand why someone like her would go so far just to save him.

    Nor could he figure out what he had ever done to deserve her help.

    In his eyes, she was perfect.

    When Lillian finally woke, a full day and night had already passed. Warmth surrounded her, and she noticed her hand was still being held firmly.

    A slight turn of her head revealed Samuel lying on the cold floor beside the bed, fast asleep.

    The small movement didn’t go unnoticed. He stirred almost at once, pushing himself upright as his blue eyes locked onto her.

    There was something intense in the way he looked at her. His gaze didn’t pull back, and combined with his rugged yet striking features, it made her heart skip a beat.

    Lillian paused for a moment before reaching out. Her fingers brushed through his messy hair, then touched his ear. “Samuel, why did you sleep on the floor?” she asked in a soft voice.

    A low sound slipped from Samuel at the touch. Since he was a werewolf, his ears and tail were highly sensitive. “I’m used to it. And… thank you for saving me and letting me stay here.”

    That answer wasn’t the truth. He hadn’t grown used to sleeping on the floor. But he had watched too many others like him get taken away by females who treated them like passing interests. They would leave with females smiling, only to return later with wounds covering their bodies.

    Some of those females, backed by their status, didn’t hesitate to cross the line and treat their slaves as nothing more than tools for their own desires.

    After seeing enough of that, Samuel had come to understand one thing. If he wanted to survive, he had to endure whatever came his way and be compliant.

    But…

    “Don’t say things like that. You should be sleeping on the bed.”

    Lillian pushed the covers aside and got out of bed, reaching for him as she pulled him to his feet. Only then did she realize just how tall he was. Standing close to him, she barely reached his chest, which forced her to tilt her head up to meet his eyes.

    A trace of shyness slipped into her expression before she spoke again. “After what happened last night… are you feeling better now?”

    Samuel was stunned for a moment before answering, “I am. You got me through the rut safely.”

    The memory of that kiss lingered in his mind, and his gaze drifted to her lips without him realizing it. He swallowed instinctively.

    He realized that the rumors on Rogue Planet were true. Once a male experienced a deep level of soothing from a female, the feeling would stay with him, pulling him back toward it again and again. He could already feel that pull.

    “Wait… you really made it through because of me?” Excitement lit up Lillian’s face. “So what I did actually worked?”

    When Samuel confirmed it, everything clicked for her. The way her spiritual power worked wasn’t the same as that of other females.

    Beast cores had never improved her spiritual power, no matter how many she had used. All those years of fighting aberrant beasts hadn’t changed anything. Now, she finally understood why. Her spiritual power didn’t grow that way at all.

    And what had happened last night went beyond simple contact. It was a deeper connection that had allowed her to draw in far more energy than before, upgrading her spiritual power.

    Without thinking, Lillian wrapped her arms around Samuel, unable to hide her joy. “Thank you, Samuel!”

    The sudden embrace caught Samuel off guard. A faint heat crept across his face, and he didn’t know how to react. Every instinct told him to stay wary of her, yet he was unable to do that.

    He forced himself to pull away, steadying his thoughts before speaking. “You shouldn’t treat me this well. I’m not someone worth your kindness. I’ve got a criminal record, and I’m marked as a slave from Rogue Planet. If people find out what you did for me, they’ll laugh at you.”

    “No,” Lillian responded as she held his hand, her smile unwavering. “Bringing you home was the best choice I’ve ever made. You’re my lucky charm!”

    She looked at him. “Stay with me, Samuel. Maybe you’re the only one who will.”

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