My name is Lila Sinclair. The mate the Moon Goddess chose for me, Ian Rhodes, had loved my sister, Daphne Sinclair, for eight years. He married me but never marked me. Then, on the night our pack fell, he took a silver arrow meant for me. I held him in my arms, blood soaking through my hands, and thought he had finally found it hard to leave me. Instead, he clutched Daphne's old necklace and rasped, "I've repaid the debt I owed your mother, Judith Sinclair." "If there is another life, let me go." My hand slowly froze against his wound. Daphne had died on her way north for an alliance marriage, and Ian had carried her in his heart for eight long years. I clung to my place as his fated mate, but in the end, all I received was a plea to let him go. When I opened my eyes again, my father, Cedric Sinclair, was worrying over the alliance marriage with the Northlands. This time, I didn't beg him to arrange my wedding to Ian. I took the marriage contract and signed my own name. "Let Daphne stay. Father, I'll go." Later, I severed my fated bond in front of everyone, gathered the skirts of my wedding gown, and climbed into the waiting carriage. The man who had finally gotten what he wanted dropped to his knees before the wheels, clutching my skirt with red-rimmed eyes. "Lila, don't go."

When I stepped out of the fitting room in my wedding dress, Damian Hart—my fiancé of 10 years—leaned down and kissed me gently between the brows. "Now that I've seen you in your wedding dress, Evelyn, I won't be coming to our bonding ceremony next week." I froze. "What do you mean?" His voice was apologetic, but there wasn't a trace of remorse in his eyes. "Chloe Reed came of age yesterday, and the Moon Goddess revealed that she's my fated mate. I married her at city hall this morning. I'm her mate now. If I go through another ceremony with you, it'll hurt her." Cold seeped through my entire body, and I couldn't keep the tremor from my voice. "We've been together for 10 years. The whole pack knows I'm supposed to become your Luna..." Damian sighed, wearing the patient look of a man indulging an unreasonable child. "Evelyn, you're still the woman I love most. If you can't bear to give up the ceremony, hire any man you want to play the groom. You shouldn't have to miss out." He paused, his gaze settling on my pristine white dress. His smile was tender and cruel. "You don't even have a wolf. No one in the pack would ever recognize you as Luna anyway. What difference does it make who stands in as the groom?" He was certain I had nowhere else to go, certain that, just as I had for the past 10 years, I would cry and then remain by his side. I didn't cry. I pushed the surprise I had prepared for him back into my dress pocket. It was a bloodline report bearing my full name, Evelyn Moore, and proving that I belonged to the Silvermoon royal family. Damian was right about one thing. I shouldn't settle for less. In seven days, I would walk into that bonding ceremony with a man who was truly worthy of me.

The day I went wedding-dress shopping in Ravenport, my sister, Julie Mansfield, said she would come along to help me choose. When I stepped out of the fitting room, I found Julie standing on tiptoe, straightening the bow tie of my fiancé, Devin Rhodes. I was just about to say, "I can do it," when the stylist walked up to her with a smile. "This way, bride-to-be." They looked at each other and smiled. Neither of them corrected her. Toby Walsh, who had come to take photos, walked right past me. The three of us had grown up together. Yet all 87 photos he took were of my sister and my fiancé. Not one featured me, the actual bride. When we played make-believe weddings in the backyard as children, Toby and Julie held hands as the bride and groom. I scattered the flower petals. Now that we were grown and I had a fiancé, the three of them still walked ahead, laughing and talking, while I followed behind carrying their coats. "Erin, let me have your bouquet for a second." I didn't move. Devin came over and gently eased the flowers from my fingers. "Erin, why are you spacing out again? Go pick out the invitations. We'll come find you when we're done with the photos." Toby peered out from behind his camera. "Erin, move a little farther over. You're blocking the light." I retreated to the wall and watched Devin place my bouquet in Julie's arms. If this wedding didn't need me, then I wouldn't be attending.

Two years after my wife sent me to Ardenport on business, I finally closed the deal and flew back to Bellmont without telling her. But when I got home, my birthday no longer unlocked the front door. She had given me this house as a wedding present. My name was on the deed. When she set the passcode herself, she had said, "As long as you want to come home, this door will always be open to you." I tried again. Incorrect passcode. I was about to call her when our next-door neighbor, Mrs. Nelson, came over. "Looking for Natalie? She and her husband went for a prenatal checkup. They aren't back yet." Clutching my phone, I stared at her. "Natalie Montgomery?" "That's right. She's due soon, so she's been going to the hospital a lot lately." My hand tightened around the handle of my suitcase. It took me a long moment to force out the question. "What's her husband's name?" "Darren Lynch. He takes her for a walk every day." She looked me over and smiled. "You must be her younger brother, right?" My blood ran cold. Natalie was my wife. Darren was my best friend. Together, they had betrayed me...

On the eve of our wedding, my fiancé, Wade Holloway, draped the vest that marked me as his old lady over my sister's shoulders. "I'm taking your sister to the party tonight. She can wear the vest for now." My older sister, Sabina Cowper, nudged Wade's arm affectionately. "But didn't you promise you'd introduce Denise to the guys tonight?" Wade straightened her collar for her. "After the way they treated you at the clubhouse last night, I need to make sure they know never to give you a hard time again." I stared at the back patch I had chosen myself and asked hoarsely, "What about me?" My parents' faces darkened. "You're getting married in a few days. What difference does one night make? Let your sister get this off her chest first." All my life, I had been made to give my sister everything—the prettiest dresses, the helmet I loved, the rare chance to go on a road trip. I had thought Wade would be the one person who would always choose me. But even the public acknowledgment I had waited years for could be handed to her at the last minute. I unclenched my fists and looked up at him. "Since you're giving her the vest, you can have her as fiancée too."

For generations, the Silverpine Pack had upheld an agreement with the Blackstone wolves of the North: once every generation, Silverpine would send them a bride. This time, every unmated she-wolf aged 22 or older who had never married or received a mate mark was placed on the list of candidates. At the banquet, friends and family would vote for the women they wanted to stay. Whoever received the fewest votes would be sent north in three days. I, Erin Halbrook, was daughter of Silverpine's Alpha. I had a fated mate, an older brother, and a best friend I'd known since childhood. All three had promised me their votes. Yet when the results were announced, there wasn't a single vote beside my name. Not one. Carl Maddox, my fated mate, my brother Heckett Halbrook, and my childhood friend Noah Bellamy had all voted for Bella Fenwick, whose father had once saved their lives. I stared at them in disbelief. "Didn't you promise you'd vote for me?" Carl looked helpless. "Your father's the Alpha. Do you honestly think anyone would dare send you away?" Heckett chimed in, "Bella's father saved our lives, and now she doesn't even have a dad anymore. Can't you show a little understanding just this once?" Noah frowned. "You've had everything you wanted your whole life. Would it really hurt to let Bella have this one thing?" My throat tightened as I looked from one familiar face to another. Because I still had a father, and because I had the three of them, I was apparently expected to give Bella even the votes that would determine whom I married. But I was done waiting for them to find time to love me. That night, I went to see my father, Marcus Halbrook, Alpha of the Silverpine Pack. "Dad, I'll marry the Northern Alpha."

The day I learned I was 8 weeks pregnant, I overheard my Alpha announce that his mistress was pregnant too—and that he expected me to raise her child. The pack doctor handed me the ultrasound report, her expression grave. "Luna, the silver wound from 3 years ago didn't completely destroy your womb. But conceiving this baby was already a miracle. Any severe backlash from the mate bond could cause you to miscarry." I clutched the report. All I wanted was to tell Barret Blackwood that we were finally going to have another child. But just as I reached the door to his study, I heard him say, "Leah is pregnant. At tomorrow night's pack banquet, I'll formally acknowledge her. The child she's carrying will become the heir to the Blackpine Pack." His mother, Betsy Blackwood, asked, "What about Louise?" Barret was silent for a moment. When he finally answered, his calmness was almost cruel. "She can't have children, and she's always been sensible. She'll remain Luna. We'll let her raise Leah's baby. She'll accept it." The mate mark on my neck flared with pain, and a vicious cramp tore through my belly. I pressed a protective hand over the tiny life not yet showing inside me and slowly slipped the surprise I'd meant to give him back into its envelope. A man who would always put me last, and a marriage that expected me to raise another woman's child—I wanted neither.

I, Isabel White, had been dating Jonas Sapir, CEO of Sapir Group, for six months. The day I learned I was pregnant, I went to find him at a private club. Outside the door, I heard his twin brother laughing. "Jonas, I've been pretending to be you all this time. She won't dump you when she finds out, will she?" Jonas scoffed. "As if she could bear to leave me. You haven't slept with her, have you? I haven't even done that yet." "Relax. I'm just having fun with her." I clapped a hand over my mouth and crushed the doctor's report in my fist. The man who draped his coat over my shoulders by day and the one who held me at night, promising me forever, weren't the same person. I did not storm in and confront them. When I went home, I acted as if nothing had happened. In secret, however, I arranged my own death. I was keeping the baby, and I was taking it far away from both men. In one more day, I would be gone.

The day Dominic Harrington drove me to a prenatal appointment, his young assistant, Ivy Walker, deliberately sped up and rear-ended our car. For three months, I'd heard him complain constantly about Ivy, saying she was careless and botched even the simplest tasks. He even claimed that she would be fired sooner or later. Yet after the crash, he ran straight to Ivy and carried her into an ambulance, even though she'd only scraped her forehead. He forgot I was still trapped in the passenger seat, four months pregnant. He forgot we'd been married for seven years and had spent two of them longing for this baby. Since he'd chosen someone else, my baby and I were done with him.

On our third anniversary, Adrian handed me divorce papers. His mentor's daughter was terminally ill. Her dying wish was to marry the man she'd loved for ten years. That man was my husband. "It's only a temporary divorce. Once she's gone, we'll get married again." I looked down at the pregnancy test report hidden in my purse. I didn't tell him that the baby we'd wanted for two years was finally here. Before I signed, I asked him one last question. "What if I won't marry you again?" Adrian laughed. "Elena, we've been together for seven years. You could never bring yourself to leave me." I didn't argue. I simply signed my name at the bottom of the agreement. He had no idea. This time, I wasn't going to wait for him to come back.

After my brother got into a car accident, he swore up and down he'd traveled back from the future. Then he stormed into my company's lobby and screamed at my ice-cold boss, "Christian!" I went white as a sheet. I nearly died on the spot. I'd just spent 30 minutes in Christian Mercer's office getting torn apart over a slip in one of my proposals. If this was what pushed him over the edge, my Wall Street career was toast. I tried to haul my brother off, but he latched onto my boss's waistband and howled at the top of his lungs. "Christian! You still haven't told her? What are you, a ninja?! You've even got Stella's initials tattooed on your lower back! What are you waiting for?!" The little punk was talking complete nonsense. But Christian was clearly furious. Color flooded that usually pale, unreadable face—up his cheeks, out to his ears, down his neck. Even the rims of his eyes had gone pink. That night, I was already drafting my resignation letter when I happened to catch the private WhatsApp messages Christian had sent my brother. Christian: This is Christian. Did you really come back from the future? Christian: The tattoo on my lower back… how did you know about it? Christian: Stella and I… do we really get married down the line? Christian: How many kids will we have? Will they take after her or me? Christian: Hold on. What did you mean by a "divorce scare"? Is some bastard going to try to take her from me?!

My name was Sara Sterling.  At 18, I became engaged to Alvin Hawthorne, heir to the Hawthorne family. In the dangerous world we lived in, he was the one person I thought I could always count on. I held on to that promise for seven long years. Again and again, he told me things were too unstable or the timing wasn't right, and I kept waiting while the years slipped by. Then, on our wedding day, just as the priest was about to begin the vows, Alvin got word that his assistant, Lina Parker, had been kidnapped. He left me standing at the altar in front of everyone and went after her himself. In that moment, I saw something in his eyes I'd never seen when he looked at me: real fear, and a depth of feeling he had never once shown me. He came back later with his men and promised we'd try again in three days. But when I caught the scent of Lina's freesia perfume on him, then looked at myself in the mirror, I suddenly felt exhausted. I didn't want him anymore.

Six years after I was cast out of the Black Pine Pack, my ex-Alpha, Derek Hawthorne, arrived in the Northern Territory with the son we had together, claiming he was there to take me home. His expression was haughty. "Cure Selena Rhodes's silver poisoning, and I'll restore your place in the pack. You can return to the packhouse as Noah Hawthorne's birth mother." Noah looked impatient. "Mom is already being generous by letting you treat her. Don't push your luck." I did not board the Black Pine Pack's carriage. Instead, I left for Alliance City with the Werewolf Royal Court's convoy. Father and son followed the entire way, convinced I was still throwing a tantrum. At the city gates, a golden-eyed pup raced into my arms and wrapped his arms around my neck. "Mommy, who are they?" Derek went white. "You had another man's child?" I held my pup close and met their stares calmly. "Why is that so surprising? Our bond was severed six years ago. We haven't had anything to do with each other since."

My name is Nora O'Connell. At 18, I took a fall on the ice and woke up eight years in the future. Eight years later, I was married to my childhood rival, Finn Callahan, and we had a 4-year-old son, Sean Callahan. Worse, I had become a vicious woman who abandoned them both to grovel at Cole Mercer's feet. Cole was a poor student sponsored by my family, and I couldn't stand him. I couldn't believe my 26-year-old self had turned into his lapdog. It was absurd. I wanted to change everything, but no one believed me. My parents treated me like a threat. My son was afraid of me. Even Finn, who had loved me for years, handed me divorce papers. Everyone assumed I would run away with Cole and take my son with me again. Then Cole called me his dog in front of everyone. I slapped him hard across the face. My son held his penguin close in shock. "Dad, Mom didn't come here to run away. "She came here to beat him up!"

When I turned eighteen, I sensed my fated mate, Alpha Roman. I thought this was a gift straight from the moon goddess herself. For seven whole years, I waited for him to mark me, to follow through on every promise he'd made. But he always brushed me off with the same lines: "The timing isn't right yet" or "Just wait a little longer." That went on until our wedding day seven years later. On our wedding day, he got an urgent call saying that his assistant, Lena, had been kidnapped. Without a second of hesitation, he called the whole wedding off right there in front of all our guests and left me stranded alone at the wedding venue. I could feel it, clear as day—how frantic he was over her, how deeply he cared for her. That kind of raw, intense emotion? He'd never felt that strongly about me even once in seven years. When he finally came back, he promised we'd hold a make-up wedding three days later. Lena's scent clung to him, and in that instant, I knew. I was done with this man for good.

When my mother called and told me to meet Dante Moretti's prospective bride that evening, Dante was asleep beside me, one arm locked firmly around my waist. Thinking our parents must have gotten something wrong, I gently woke him. "They said Ms. Costa is back, and she's being set up with you." Without opening his eyes, he gave a sleepy hum and pulled me closer. "Perfect. Pick out a suit for me this afternoon. Elena likes black, so don't choose a tie that's too flashy." My whole body went rigid. "Then what are we?" Dante opened his eyes as though I had asked something ridiculous. "Sofia, we eat together, drink together, and share a bed. That's all." He pinched my cheek, his tone careless. "You didn't actually think I was going to marry you, did you?"

"Don, I can't take two! It'll kill me!" Inside the interview room, the fox heiress who had been mocking me as an "ignorant human bumpkin" only seconds ago let out a bloodcurdling scream. The cat-shifter heiress went deathly pale and scrambled backward on all fours. "I'm withdrawing from the bride-selection interview! Please, let me go!" I stood there, utterly dumbfounded. Wait... I'd come to interview for a high-paying executive assistant position at Viper Group so I could cover some medical bills. How had I wandered into a snake-shifter mafia don's bride-selection interview instead? Who in their right mind selected his wife through interviews? Before I could sneak away, however, a wave of savage, scorching snake pheromones swept through the room. Then a miracle happened. The heat that had tormented my body year-round—a condition top doctors had diagnosed as a genetic defect—vanished the moment his terrifying presence washed over me. For the first time in years, I felt completely at ease. My eyes lit up. Under everyone's horrified gaze, I threw myself into the arms of the furious Don Lucas. "If they don't want you, I do! Don Lucas, pick me!"

For 6 years, I thought I had a family. My adopted sister, Selena, hired men to ruin me. When her crimes came to light, my parents and Karl, my Alpha and bonded mate, stood firmly by my side. They held me when I broke down. They told me I was safe. They made me believe I was loved. I trusted them. I handed over the evidence and let them handle everything. They told me Selena died in a car crash while on the run. I believed them. Until the 6th year of my marriage. I had just finished another agonizing fertility treatment when I ran into Selena. The same Selena who was supposed to be dead. She was holding a five-year-old boy's hand, nestled against Karl's chest, whispering. "Karl, thank God you and Mom and Dad destroyed that footage and helped me fake my death. Otherwise, Ella would've sent me to prison for sure. "You kept saying that once Max and I were settled, you'd take Ella off birth control and have a kid with her. But Max can't do without you. Could you really bear to send us away?" That was when I understood that the family I thought I had was nothing but a massive lie, carefully built by my parents and my husband. 6 years of blaming myself. 6 years of suffering, agonizing over why I couldn't give Karl a child. It had all been a sick joke. One they designed. My parents. My husband. Selena. They had been the real family all along. I was just the fool they'd kept around for 6 years. Desperately, I gripped the silver knife and carved Karl's mate mark out of my neck—the mark that was supposed to mean loyalty. Family. Love. I didn't want any of it anymore. This love was soaked in lies and filth. I was done.

I'd been dating Theo Grant for six months. Heir to a New York dynasty. Out of my league in every way. The day I found out I was pregnant, I accidentally overheard his twin brother Lucas laughing. "Bro, I've been pretending to be you and playing around with your little girlfriend for months. She's not going to dump you over it, is she?" Theo's voice was casual, unconcerned. "So what? She wouldn't dare. And she wouldn't want to anyway. You didn't touch her, did you? I've been with her for half a year and haven't even slept with her yet. Play all you want, but don't cross that line." Lucas's smile carried a hidden meaning. "Of course not." I clamped my hand over my mouth, the pregnancy test report crumpled into a tight ball in my fist. So that was it. The Theo who was gentle and loving during the day, and the "Theo" who possessed me wildly at night—they were two different people. They wore the same face, and they treated me like a toy to be passed around for their mutual amusement. I didn't cry. I didn't make a scene. I stayed the obedient poor girl from the slums. Privately, I booked an abortion. And I arranged my own perfect, untraceable death. But when Theo learned I had lost the baby and that I was gone, he went mad. He grabbed his brother by the throat and snarled, "Who gave you permission to touch her?

The day before the extreme heat disaster hit, my husband brought home his "childhood sweetheart." She'd just gotten divorced, had nowhere to stay, and needed to crash with us for a few days. I wasn't on board. He said I was petty and couldn't stand to see anyone else do well. My stepson called me a mean, wicked stepmother and told his dad to kick me out and keep this aunt instead. The next day, the sun went haywire. Temperatures spiked to a hundred and thirty degrees Fahrenheit, and we were all trapped indoors. I told my husband we didn't have enough food and water for three people. He called me selfish and cold-hearted, said I was basically pushing her to die. The heatwave dragged on for eighteen days. The three of them ate through every last scrap in the house. When FEMA finally airdropped supplies and ice blocks, my husband, my stepson, and the "childhood sweetheart" grabbed everything for themselves. I was already lightheaded from the heat and reached for a piece of ice. My stepson shoved me away with his foot. "You've got more body fat and you handle heat better. Don't waste the ice." They banished me to the glass sunroom with no AC. I baked to death in that sweltering box. When I opened my eyes again, it was the day before the heatwave. My husband asked if she could stay. I smiled and said yes. This time around, I'm kicking back with the AC blasting, eating ice cream, and watching them tear each other apart over a single drop of water.