Phoenix Mode, Activated: Burn Me Once, Watch Me Rise
Chelsey loved Brett for seven years and tried everything for a baby-doctors, IVF, surgeries. Then she found out he'd been dosing her food with contraceptives.
She woke back at the fire years earlier and watched Brett carry another woman out, leaving Chelsey to choke in smoke. She realized he'd been reborn too-and picked his "true love."
Chelsey walked away and married Julian, her friend's cousin and the hot firefighter who saved her; he gave her all his money the day they married.
Brett scoffed... until Chelsey shone at an AI summit and Julian's real identity shocked him.
Seeing her with twins and another baby coming, Brett begged, "Come back to me! Please!"
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Chapter 1
"Mrs. Haynes, I regret to inform you that the IVF procedure has failed again," the doctor said.
In response, Chelsey Haynes stared down at the report she was holding, and the paper trembled slightly as cold crept into her fingers.
By then, she could no longer remember how many times she had heard the same verdict.
During her seven years of marriage, the entire Haynes family waited for her to conceive. Despite all that hope, her body never answered their expectations.
Over the years, she had explored every option available—conceiving naturally, alternative remedies, IVF, and even surgery—yet nothing changed.
Moments later, Chelsey pivoted toward the doctor's office, intending to knock. However, she stopped when voices drifted through the closed door.
"I honestly feel sorry for Mrs. Haynes. Her uterine lining is extremely thin. By forcing herself to keep trying, she is only damaging her own body."
"She really is pitiful in a misguided way. The truth is, her husband does not want children at all. Because of that, no amount of effort on her part will ever matter."
Those words hit Chelsey with brutal force, as if a bolt of lightning had torn through her chest, and she stood there, unable to move her raised hand.
Did her husband truly not want her to conceive? The thought echoed in her mind, and she struggled to accept what she had just heard.
...
Back at the house, Chelsey drifted to the bedroom in a fog and folded herself onto the mattress. Even with the early summer sunlight spilling warmly through the window, an unsettling cold clung to her skin.
Without warning, the bed dipped beside her, and a sharp scent of alcohol mixed with a faint, woodsy note filled the air.
From behind, her husband, Brett Haynes, wrapped his arms around her and slid his warm hands beneath the silk of her nightgown.
"Did you miss me?" he muttered, his voice low and intimate.
Normally, his touch would have sent a tremor through her body, but instead, her chest felt colder with each passing second.
Earlier that day, he knew she had gone to the hospital for the IVF results, and yet he never asked a single question.
"We failed to have a baby again," she said quietly, her throat rough as the words left her mouth.
At that, Brett's hands stopped, and the pause lingered longer than she expected.
Breaking the silence, he finally spoke in an even, detached tone. "This must be difficult for you. I'll be away on a business trip for two months. Make sure you look after yourself, and ask the housekeeper to prepare some nourishing soup."
Afterward, his lips pressed against her skin in slow, lingering kisses, heavy with alcohol and marked by the familiar heat and dominance she knew all too well.
Reluctance weighed on Chelsey, yet resisting him was impossible.
He was always careful with her and never caused her pain.
Once it was over, Brett lifted her gently and brought her into the bathroom. He washed her with quiet patience. After that, he settled her back into bed and held her until sleep claimed her.
In that moment, the night mirrored so many others they had shared, tender and wrapped in warmth.
From the outside, they would have looked like a deeply devoted couple.
Beside her, Brett's breathing gradually evened out, but Chelsey remained awake, staring into the dark.
Soon, her eyes drifted toward the briefcase Brett had casually left on the couch earlier.
Throughout their seven years of marriage, she had never searched through his belongings, an unspoken boundary she always respected as his wife.
Tonight, however, something shifted within her. As she watched Brett sleep, she quietly slipped out of bed.
Not long after, she uncovered a blister pack of small white pills hidden beneath a stack of documents.
Those pills were contraceptives.
Shock rooted Chelsey in place as she stared at them in disbelief.
Because she had been preparing her body for pregnancy, she had never used such pills, and she had only glimpsed them once at a friend's house by accident.
Back then, that friend even joked about how deeply she and Brett loved each other, saying they would never need contraception.
Now, the truth arrived with cruel speed. Even though she was somewhat prepared for this after hearing the conversation in the hospital, she sensed her heart breaking apart.
What could it possibly mean for a man claiming to want a child to keep contraceptive pills with him? Was it proof of an affair? Or something even worse?
Chelsey's racing thoughts stopped short when she remembered how Brett constantly insisted the housekeeper prepare nourishing soup for her. A chilling speculation took shape: could it be that he was spiking it with the pills?
At that realization, a deep cold spread through her from head to toe.
As her hands began to shake, a photograph slid free from the inner pocket of the briefcase.
Time had softened its edges, making it clear that it had been handled often and with care.
Captured in the image was a much younger Brett, smiling warmly, while a girl leaned close beside him.
"What do you think you are doing?" Brett's voice came from behind her.
Sometime during her search, he had risen from the bed, and now he strode over, ripped the photo from her grasp, and fixed her with a sharp glare.
"Have you been spying on me? Since when did you start behaving so immaturely, Chelsey?"
A harsh laugh tore from Chelsey, and tears threatened to fall as a deep, painful ache spread through her chest.
"Immature?" she said through unstable laughter. "I have spent years being far too 'grown up.'"
The words barely settled before a stabbing pain surged through her abdomen.
Darkness rushed in quickly, and the final image etched into her mind was Brett's face twisted with panic.
...
Awareness returned in a violent jolt as Chelsey's eyes flew open.
Although the crushing pain had eased slightly, a wave of acrid smoke flooded her senses and forced a bout of violent coughing.
"There's a fire. Get out now!" someone shouted with raw urgency.
"Help us!" another voice shouted in terror.
All around her, frightened shouts rang out while Chelsey pushed herself upright and tried to make sense of the chaos.
In front of her, a table stood overturned and littered with fallen bottles, while colored lights warped and blurred through the thick smoke.
Without warning, Chelsey's attention locked onto a familiar figure collapsed on a nearby couch.
Lydia Morley? The woman who was supposed to have died in a fire seven years earlier.
As the weight of that realization settled in, Chelsey hastily reached for her phone lying on the table and checked the time.
Glowing on the screen were the words "May 18, 2026, 10:50 PM."
At once, Chelsey's breathing faltered.
She had returned to the very night when the fire claimed Lydia's life seven years ago.
Had she been reborn?
The flames grew fiercer, and Chelsey forced herself toward the door, but agony shot through her injured ankle and stopped her from taking another step.
Without warning, a thunderous crash rang out. With a forceful kick, the door burst open.
Emerging from the smoke in the next instant was the tall outline of a man charging inside.
Memories from Chelsey's past merged with the figure standing before her, and years of misplaced trust drove her to reach toward him without thinking. "Brett, save me."
Standing there was the Brett from seven years ago, his face still marked by youth, yet already hinting at the sharpness and composure he would one day possess.
"Don't panic. I'll take you out of here." Though familiar, his voice carried a strained urgency, edged with the recklessness of youth.
In that instant, Chelsey expected him to do what he always did before—to come straight to her, pull her into his arms, and promise that nothing could harm her while he was there.
Instead, Brett's eyes rested on her for only a fleeting heartbeat.
Without delay, he moved past her at a hurried pace, bypassing her completely as he headed for Lydia and gathered her firmly into his arms.
Passing by Chelsey, he offered no second look, only tossing out a curt, "Follow me."
He rushed out with Lydia held tightly against him, never once turning back.
Suspended in place, Chelsey's hand remained stretched forward, unmoving.
Inside her chest, warmth drained away until only a dull, spreading cold remained.
Pain throbbed through her injured ankle, leaving her no chance of escaping on her own.
Had Brett chosen to leave her behind to die instead of Lydia? The idea crushed her with despair and filled her heart with a quiet, aching grief.
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7.4
In a world ruled by dominance and desire, being an Omega is a curse, especially when you're mine.
On his eighteenth birthday, Luca wakes to a nightmare, his wolf has chosen the lowest rank of all. An Omega. The scent of submission, the mark of shame and the kind of wolf others own, use, and discard.
But Luca isn't broken, he's burning and the only one who's ever made him feel safe is Rafe, his best friend, his protector and his temptation.
Then Rafe shifts and becomes an Alpha and their wolves recognize each other, the bond between them is instant, magnetic, and utterly forbidden.
Because an Alpha claiming a Male Omega?
That's forbidden, but this Omega? He's different
Now their connection is more than a secret, It's a sin to their world, a deadly craving, slow, delicious and primal to fall into.
And when one bite can seal a bond or spark a war, how long can they resist it?
He's not supposed to want him.
But gods, he does.
And once an Alpha touches what's his... he never lets go.
8.2
In my previous life, I, Claire Holloway, was eight months pregnant, kneeling in a storm, begging Lucas Ashford to save the bankrupt Holloway family.
But he held his first love, Vanessa Wren, in his arms, looking down at me with cold disdain.
"The Holloway family's downfall was orchestrated by me. Did you really think I'd fall for a spoiled rich girl like you? If it weren't for getting my revenge today, I'd have found even touching you disgusting."
In despair, I died that freezing night—two lives lost with me.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day I was diagnosed with pregnancy.
Lucas was gently peeling shrimp for me, smiling as he asked what kind of diamond ring I wanted.
I looked at his hypocritical face and let out a quiet, cold laugh.
This time, I wouldn't make the same mistake again.
7.2
The Royal Pack’s glowing moonstone token rested in my palm.
Before I could even process the miracle of my rebirth, my half-sister Alyssa snatched it right out of my hand.
"This destiny is mine, little sister. Enjoy your cursed Alpha," she sneered.
My family easily caved to her whining. They forced me to take her place and marry Alpha Kaelen, a man they called an insane, crippled monster with three feral adopted sons. They laughed, expecting his beast to tear me apart before the honeymoon was over.
Alyssa thought she was stealing my crown. She didn't know she had just stolen my death sentence.
In my previous life, that exact token had made me the Alpha King’s Luna. But I was just a convenient, disposable meat shield for his true human mate. I died agonizingly, choking on poison meant for her, while the King didn't even blink.
I lowered my head, forcing my shoulders to tremble as if holding back terrified sobs. I played the part of the pathetic, wolfless Omega they all believed me to be.
But beneath my fake tears, I felt a profound relief.
I remembered the Kaelen from my past life. He wasn't a monster. He was powerful, agonizingly lonely, and slowly destroyed by a dark magic no one understood.
I wisely accepted the marriage pact and walked right into his freezing manor.
I know exactly who cursed him. And this time, I will save him, protect his boys, and make his entire pack mine.
7.2
Christa discovered her adopted daughter Evelyn was sneaking around with a street thug named Dante.
When she furiously confronted her, Evelyn squeezed out a few tears and played the tragic, abused orphan.
"Mom is so cruel to me, I just want someone to love me," Evelyn cried to the men of the house, who instantly took her side.
Christa didn't realize her anger only gave the girl the perfect victim card. Evelyn manipulated the family's guilt to drain their wealth and orchestrate a massive corporate fraud.
When the authorities closed in, Evelyn let Christa's eldest daughter Julianna take the fall, sending her to federal prison.
The Stephenson family went completely bankrupt.
Christa's husband Grant, crushed by the betrayal and debt, jumped off a Manhattan skyscraper.
Until her family was entirely destroyed, Christa couldn't understand. They had given the orphan a home, a trust fund, and endless love.
Why did Evelyn treat them like easy marks? Why did she use their kindness as a weapon to tear them apart?
Opening her eyes again, Christa saw the heavy velvet drapes letting in the pale morning light.
She was back seven years ago, on the exact day she first caught Evelyn texting that thug.
This time, Christa wouldn't scream or fight. She would cut off the money, drop the rules, and watch the parasite dig her own grave.
8.7
On the day of our mating ceremony, I wore a beautiful white dress, waiting to become the Luna of the pack. To ensure my Fated Mate, Kade, loved me for my soul and not my rank, I had hidden my true Alpha nature and lived as a fragile Omega.
But instead of my groom, my best friend Selena walked into the room. She flashed a fresh silver rejection rune on her wrist, smiling as she told me the ceremony was canceled. Kade had chosen her, the daughter of a powerful Beta, to secure his Alpha transition.
When I rushed to his study in disbelief, the words I heard through the cracked door shattered my heart completely.
"She's just an Omega. Her value doesn't compare to the loyalty of Selena's father."
Kade laughed coldly with his friends, calling our sacred bond a leash. He even planned to keep me trapped in the packhouse as a docile, broken toy under his and Selena's rule.
Every whispered promise of love was just a lie built for power. My disguise to test his true heart became the very excuse he used to discard me like trash. How could the man who promised to cherish my soul be so utterly ruthless?
Wiping my tears, I kicked the door open and publicly initiated the impossible: I, the "weak Omega," formally rejected him. After smashing a whiskey bottle over his head, I walked straight into the territory of his most feared rival—his older brother, Rowan. This time, I would tear his world apart.
7.4
As a princess who could not wield magic, Princess Daphne's only value to her kingdom was her arranged marriage. The task was simple, but when Daphne was kidnapped and brought to the cold mountains of Vramid, she realized that she was in over her head.
She had heard of these cursed mountains before― rocky terrain, freezing temperatures, and the land was ruled by a man feared by many within the continent.
King Atticus Heinvres, the blood-thirsty ruler of the North.
Even though she had never met him before, tales were spread of King Atticus's ruthlessness. Some said he was a monster, others claimed he was the devil himself, but whatever the story was, everyone knew of the man who had powers beyond anyone's imagination. He could topple armies and crumble nations with just one wave of his hand, aided by what others rumored to be a cursed obsidian ring.
No one outside of Vramid had ever met the fearsome king before. Not until Daphne.
However, upon meeting the formidable man, Daphne found out that the king might not really be the monster others had claimed him to be.
In fact, what was hidden under that obsidian shield could just be a diamond in the rough.
―
[Excerpt]
"Now... where should I put you both?" he asked casually, not expecting a reply. "It's regretful that I only have one chandelier."
"Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don't deserve this," Atticus mused to himself. "The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over... Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?"
"Atticus!" Daphne screamed. "I don't want any heads! Let them go."
"Fair enough." Atticus shrugged, and flicked his fingers.
There were two identical cracks as both necks snapped at once.
Daphne gasped, horrified. This man, her husband, had just killed two men with a flick of his finger, as though he was snuffing out candles.
"I told you to let them go!" Daphne cried out.
"Yes, I let them go," Atticus said. Then, his eyes darkened. "To receive divine judgment from the heavens."