From Shattered Prodigy to Abyssal Vengeance
Elara Vex had everything-a flawless ice core, the title of prodigy, and a place at the pinnacle of the High Tower. But in one brutal night, it was all ripped away. Her mentor tore the core from her chest. Her fiancé drove a sword through her back. Her own sister smiled as she bled out on the cold marble floor.
When Elara wakes, she's years in the past, mere hours before her core is scheduled to be stolen. This time, she won't be anyone's sacrificial lamb. She shatters her own core with forbidden blood magic and forges something far more terrifying in its place-a bottomless, ravenous Chaos Core that devours magic itself.
Now, branded a worthless cripple and cast into the deadly Abyss, Elara is pulled from the darkness by the outcasts of Elysium Academy-a school for heretics, psychopaths, and everything the Tower despises. Under the tutelage of a reclusive principal who knew her murdered mother, Elara will master her forbidden power and uncover the Tower's darkest secrets.
When the Five Academies Ranking Tournament arrives, Seraphina Vex stands in the arena, draped in white saintess robes, ready to claim ultimate glory. She doesn't know that a ghost from her past has clawed her way back from hell. She doesn't know that Elara is coming-and this time, the prodigal sister isn't asking for mercy. She's bringing chaos.
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Chapter 6
Elara woke up to the sharp, pungent smell of crushed herbs and ozone.
Her eyes snapped open. Her body reacted before her brain did-she rolled violently to the side, pulling her knees to her chest in a tight, defensive crouch.
She was on a bed made of polished beast bones and thick, soft leather. The room around her was a chaotic mess of exposed copper pipes, hissing steam valves, and glowing glass vials. It looked nothing like the pristine, sterile infirmaries of the High Tower.
She looked down at her body. Her ruined uniform was gone, replaced by a simple gray tunic. The massive, jagged wounds on her arms and legs were closed, stitched together with rough but incredibly potent magical threads.
She closed her eyes and focused inward. The chaos core was spinning silently in her abdomen, heavy and full. It had absorbed the miasma from the fall and was stronger than before.
The heavy iron door of the room screeched open.
Elara didn't hesitate. She lunged off the bed, grabbed a heavy, rusted metal IV pole standing nearby, and dropped into a combat stance. She gripped the metal so tightly her knuckles turned white.
A tall man walked in. He wore a heavily frayed, dark red trench coat. His silver-gray hair was tied back in a messy knot, and his deep, dark eyes looked lazy, almost bored.
He stopped when he saw her aiming the pole at his head.
A slow, amused smile spread across his face. He slowly raised both of his hands, palms open.
"I'm Thaddeus Grey," he said, his voice a deep, gravelly rumble. "Principal of Elysium Academy."
Elara's eyes narrowed. She recognized the name from the restricted section of the Tower's library. Elysium Academy was the dumping ground for heretics, outcasts, and psychopaths.
She didn't lower the pole. "Are you going to sell me back to Silas for a bounty?"
Grey let out a loud, barking laugh. He pulled a rickety wooden chair from the corner and sat down backward, resting his arms on the backrest.
"Sell you back to those hypocritical pricks?" Grey scoffed. "Please. We collect the Tower's enemies like trading cards down here. You're Elara Vex. The dead prodigy."
"I'm not dead," Elara said coldly.
"Clearly," Grey smirked. "In this sanctuary at the bottom of the abyss, the High Tower's laws don't mean shit. You're safe here."
Elara's muscles trembled from the tension. She didn't believe in unconditional safety. "Why did you save me?"
"My student Jasper thought you looked like an interesting piece of salvage," Grey said casually.
Right on cue, two heads popped around the doorframe. It was the boy and girl from the glider.
Jasper bounded into the room holding a glass beaker filled with a bubbling, neon-green liquid. "I made you a nutrient shake! It only exploded once!"
Kira walked in behind him and slapped the back of his head hard. "Don't poison the patient with your biohazards, idiot."
Elara stared at them. The casual, chaotic affection between them was so jarringly different from the rigid, cutthroat hierarchy of the Tower that she slightly lowered the metal pole.
Grey stood up. He snatched the bubbling beaker from Jasper's hand and set it on a high shelf out of reach.
He turned back to Elara, his lazy demeanor vanishing. His eyes turned sharp and serious.
"You can stay here and heal," Grey offered. "No strings attached. Just don't blow up my school."
Elara stared into his eyes. She looked for the lie, the hidden trap, the greed that she was so used to seeing in Silas. She found nothing but a wild, unhinged honesty.
She needed a safe place to master the chaos core.
Slowly, Elara lowered the metal pole until it clattered against the stone floor.
"Thank you," she said, her voice raspy.
Grey nodded. As he turned to leave, his eyes flicked down. His gaze locked onto the silver bracelet on Elara's left wrist.
Grey's entire body went rigidly still.
For a fraction of a second, the lazy principal looked like he had been struck by lightning. Raw shock, followed by a deep, agonizing wave of grief, washed over his features.
Elara noticed the shift instantly. She pulled her arm back slightly.
Grey blinked, instantly masking his expression. He didn't say a word. He just turned on his heel and walked out the door, Jasper and Kira trailing behind him.
Elara sat back down on the bone bed. She rubbed her thumb over the cold metal of the bracelet.
Her new life had just begun, but the past was already catching up to her.
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7.9
After her twin brother's unexplained death at Alpha Academy, Alexandria Hyde takes his place and his name to uncover the truth. Now living as "Alex," she's thrown into a world of hot, testosterone-fueled Alphas who fight to the brink of death... and she has to survive it while hiding who she really is.
But staying hidden isn't easy–
Not when the Alphas start noticing her.
Not when the truth she's chasing might destroy her first.
And definitely not when they start fighting for her instead.
9.6
She was sold as a broodmare. He was a warrior with no memory. Together, they'll burn down the world.
Lyra has been called many things: half-blood, mongrel, dirty blood. Rejected by every pack she's approached, she's given one final chance-as a bride to Ronan, the cruel Alpha of Red River Pack. But when her wedding night becomes a nightmare, she stabs her new husband and flees into the frozen wilderness.
Stellan remembers nothing. Not his name, not his past, not the ancient tattoos covering his body. He only knows that when he sees a terrified woman falling from a cliff into an icy river, he must save her-even if it kills him.
On the run from a vengeful Alpha and his army of hunters, Lyra and Stellan discover an impossible bond growing between them. The moon has chosen them as mates. But Stellan's memories are returning, and with them, a devastating truth: he's not just any wolf. He's the Alpha of the North Star Pack. And a half-blood can never be his Luna.
Now Ronan's brother has sworn revenge, an ancient prophecy awakens, and three packs prepare for war. Lyra must prove that bloodlines mean nothing-and that the most powerful bond of all is forged in ice and fire.
He lost his memory. She lost her freedom. Together, they'll find everything.
7.3
Seven years ago, my fiancé, Don Dante Moretti, sent me to prison to take the fall for my adopted sister, Chiara. He called it a gift-a way to protect me from a worse fate.
Today, he picked me up from prison only to abandon me at my family's estate. His reason? Chiara was having another one of her "episodes."
My parents then informed me I'd be staying in the third-floor storage room, so as not to disturb the fragile girl who stole my life.
They celebrated her "recovery" with a lavish dinner party, while I was treated like a ghost. When I refused to join, my mother hissed that I was ungrateful, and my father called me jealous.
They assumed I couldn't understand their venomous whispers. But prison was my university. I learned Spanish. I understood every word.
It was then I realized I wasn't just a sacrifice; I was disposable. The love I once felt for all of them had turned to ash.
That night, in the dusty storage room, I logged onto an encrypted channel I'd set up years ago. A single message was waiting: "The offer stands. Do you accept?" My hands, scarred and steady, typed back, "I accept."
8.0
For six years, I played the perfect, submissive wife to Wall Street titan Francis Castro. I suffocated my own ambitions to fit into his conservative world.
But while I waited alone at a Michelin restaurant, a news alert popped up. My husband had just dropped millions on an aquamarine diamond necklace for his "muse," Chanelle.
The real nightmare began when I rushed home to find our five-year-old son in severe anaphylactic shock. I frantically called Francis from the ambulance, but he manually rejected my calls. He couldn't leave the bidding war for Chanelle's PR launch.
When he finally arrived at the ER, Chanelle was right beside him, wearing that blinding multi-million-dollar necklace. He didn't ask about our dying son.
"Why weren't you watching him?" he demanded, his voice hard and accusing.
And when my son woke up, hazy from the drugs, he rejected my touch and reached for Chanelle instead. Francis just stood there, praising Chanelle for knowing exactly how to calm him down.
I stared at the three of them looking like a perfect, happy family. Six years of swallowing my pride, only to realize my husband would let our son choke to death just to buy another woman's smile.
The last thread of my heart snapped. I handed him the divorce papers, demanding zero alimony. Then, I drove to a hidden Brooklyn loft, cut off my hair, and unlocked my safe.
It was time to resurrect my true identity—the legendary fashion designer, Ember.J. I am going to burn her empire to the ground.
9.4
I was a New York photographer, but I woke up under the brutal sun of the African savanna.
Worse, I wasn't human. I was trapped in the body of a male cheetah, with two starving cubs clinging to my fur, telepathically calling me "Mom."
But I am a real man!
To keep my adopted sons alive, I had to fight hyenas and dodge rogue lions. But the real nightmare was my bizarre survival mechanism. Under extreme threat, I would uncontrollably shift back into my human form—stark, undeniably naked. I was forced to sprint across the plains with my bare skin exposed, carrying two cubs while escaping furious lionesses. I became a freak, the most confusing and humiliating legend of the animal kingdom.
Covered in bloody scratches and mud, I was pushed to the brink of despair. Why was I thrown into this beast's body? Why did my only defense mechanism involve profound social death?
Just when I barely survived a cliff dive to escape the lions, my path was blocked by two massive, highly intelligent prime male cheetahs.
But the alpha, Bradley, didn't want to kill me for my territory.
His intense gaze raked over my naked, bleeding human body with a dark, possessive hunger.
"You are full of surprises."
He purred smoothly, teaching me to magically summon a fur skirt before demanding I join his coalition.
"Oh, you'll come to me. I guarantee it."
Looking into his predatory eyes, I realized I was no longer just surviving the wild; I was the prey of a completely different kind of beast.
9.1
The best way to get back at a cheating bastard? Make him sick to his stomach for the rest of his life!
Days before her wedding, Corinne caught her fiancé cheating with his coworker in what she thought was their future home.
Furious, she tore everything apart, ended the engagement, and decided on a bold revenge plan.
To make him regret it for life, she set her sights on marrying his powerful uncle. Confident in her scheme, she tried to win over the cold, untouchable man, only to realize too late that she had mistaken his identity.
The man she married was far more dangerous than she imagined!
Corinne decided to make a quick escape. "Let's get a divorce. We're clearly not right for each other... "
He cornered her with a knowing smile, "Not right for each other? Funny, that's not what you said last night in bed. Want me to remind you how wrong you are?"