Reborn To Save My Broken Lover
I was dying in a cold hospital bed, listening to the monitor count down my final seconds.
As a ghost, I watched my own funeral. My popular friends and wealthy family soon moved on, but one person stayed.
Cas Riley. The invisible outcast from the back of my history class.
He brought a white rose to my grave every single day, withering away until he collapsed on the frozen ground, dying of a broken heart for a girl who barely knew his name.
Opening my eyes again, the hospital smell was gone. I was reborn back in my high school classroom.
I immediately tracked him down, only to witness the brutal hell he was trapped in.
He was humiliated by a cruel foreman for pennies, violently slapped by his uncle over his sick mother's medical money, and forced into bloody street fights.
He was starving, covered in bruises, and completely alone.
When I tried to buy him medicine and step into his life to protect him, he violently pushed me away in the pouring rain.
"Stay out of my life! To protect you, I have to fight, and when I fight, I lose everything!"
He wasn't rejecting me out of hate. He was terrified that his dark, violent reality would drag me down with him.
Standing soaked in the rain, my resolve hardened like steel.
Gentle kindness wasn't going to save him from this hell.
To protect the boy who died for me, I had to become ruthless enough to tear down his entire rotten world and build him a new one.
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Chapter 5
She couldn't stay away. Not after what she'd seen.
Genesis didn't follow him this time. She went straight to his apartment building and waited on the chipped concrete steps outside, watching the sky bleed from orange to a bruised purple. She had to talk to him, face to face. She had to let him know he wasn't invisible.
The front door of the building creaked open, and a man stumbled out. He reeked of stale beer and sweat. Ray Donahue, a neighbor she'd seen coming and going. His eyes, small and bloodshot, landed on Genesis, and a greasy smile spread across his face.
"Well, hello there, little bird," he slurred, moving toward her. "Whatcha doin' all alone in the dark?"
Genesis stood up immediately, her skin crawling. "I'm waiting for someone."
"I'm someone," he said, closing the distance. He reached out and grabbed her wrist, his grip surprisingly strong. "Why don't you wait with me? We could have some fun."
"Let go of me!" she yelled, yanking her arm, but he held fast. Panic, cold and sharp, seized her. He started to drag her toward the shadows of the building's entryway.
"I said, let go!"
"You heard her."
The voice was quiet, flat, and colder than the grave.
Both Genesis and Ray turned. Cas was standing at the edge of the street, bathed in the orange glow of a streetlight. The exhaustion was gone from his face, replaced by a look of terrifying, focused rage.
He moved with a sudden lurch. He didn't shout, didn't posture. He bent down, his hand closing around a loose brick from a crumbling retaining wall.
Before Ray could even process the threat, Cas was on him. He lunged, bringing the brick down with desperate force. It wasn't a calculated strike, but a raw explosion of rage, and it connected with a sickening crunch against the man's hand.
There was a wet crack, followed by a scream of agony from Ray.
His grip vanished. Genesis scrambled away, her heart trying to beat its way out of her chest.
Ray was on the ground, clutching his mangled hand, howling.
Cas stood over him, the brick still raised, his chest heaving. The look in his eyes was wild, feral. He was going to hit him again.
"Cas, no!" Genesis cried, rushing forward and grabbing his arm. "Stop! It's okay, he let me go!"
Her touch, her voice, seemed to break the spell. The madness in his eyes receded, replaced by a dawning horror. He looked from Ray, to the brick in his hand, to her.
The brick dropped to the pavement with a heavy thud.
"I'm calling the cops! You're dead, you psycho bastard!" Ray shrieked from the ground.
Cas didn't even look at him. He grabbed Genesis's hand-gently this time-and pulled her toward the apartment building. He half-dragged her up the rickety stairs to the second floor and fumbled with his keys, finally shoving the door open and pulling her inside.
He slammed the door shut, plunging them into the near-darkness of his small apartment.
It was the first time she had been inside his world. The room was sparse, almost empty. A mattress on the floor, a single wooden chair, a small stack of books. But it was spotlessly clean.
"Thank you," she whispered, her voice shaky.
He let go of her hand as if it were on fire. He turned his back to her, his shoulders rigid. "You see?" he said, his voice a low, rough rasp. "This is what happens. This is me."
He spun around to face her, his face a mask of self-loathing. "I'm violent. I'm dangerous. I'm the trash that lives in a place where men like that feel brave."
A bitter, broken laugh escaped his lips. "Are you happy now? You got your little charity project to perform for you. You can see what a monster I am and go back to your perfect life."
He was pushing her away. He was showing her his ugliest parts, hoping it would be enough to make her run. He wasn't angry at her. He was terrified for her.
Tears welled in her eyes, but she shook her head, her voice firm. "I'm not scared of you, Cas."
His face crumpled in frustration. He strode to the door and wrenched it open, pointing out into the dark, grimy hallway.
"Get out," he snarled, the words tearing from his throat. "Go. Don't you get it? He's going to call the cops. They're going to come here. Because of you. So go. And don't ever come back."
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9.1
Waking up with a cold, scaly hand wrapped around my throat wasn't the worst part.
The worst part was realizing I'd transmigrated into the body of Terra Mason—the most despised woman in the entire Enclave. She drugged high-level beast-men and forced them into life-binding bio-contracts. She locked an aquatic warrior in a dry basement until his organs failed. She treated the most lethal males in the city like broken toys.
Zev, the Level 6 serpent who's currently choking me, would rather blow up his own heart than spend another day as my slave. His affection metric? Negative ninety. His trust? Zero.
Then my system activates: the Kore AI. It gives me exactly 500 credits, a medical nano-gel, and a recipe for neutralizing the radioactive poison in mutant meat. Real food. In this world, that's worth more than gold.
I save Rhys, the dying aquatic male everyone left for dead. I season a slab of purple mutant steak until Sam, a battle-scarred grizzly shifter, groans at the taste—and his trust points finally tick above zero. When my backstabbing ex-best friend tries to steal my males and destroy me, I don't scream or throw a tantrum like the old Terra. I dismantle her with the truth.
But earning their trust means more than grilling meat. A scorpion swarm ambushes us at midnight. Sam throws himself between me and a stinger the size of my arm. As he stands over the corpse, fur receding from his claws, he stares at me and whispers, "You were testing me."
Yes. I was. Because in this world, the weak don't survive. And I refuse to be weak again.
Four beast-men. Four contracts. One system. And a whole lot of steak. Let this dystopian wasteland know—I'm not the monster they remember. I'm worse. I'm the one who's going to feed them until they'd kill for me.
8.6
"What do you think people would say if they found out you don't have a dick?" Christian asked, his voice low and dripping with seduction. His hand pressed firmly against my crotch, fingers exploring the flat, unfamiliar emptiness there. A devilish smirk curved his lips. "Or if they discovered these voluptuous breasts you've been hiding so well?"
A strangled moan slipped from my throat as his hand slid under my shirt, his fingers brushing over my hardened nipples, teasing them with slow, deliberate strokes.
"Which do you think they'd call you?" he murmured, eyes gleaming. "A boy with tits... or a dickless little fraud?"
I stared into his hungry blue eyes, words failing me.
"The term you're looking for is 'girl,'" came Xavier's smooth voice from the bathroom doorway. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a soft click, his gaze raking over me with open interest. "So tell me, little girl... what the hell is someone like you doing in an all-boys dorm?"
Christian's smirk widened. "She wants to be devoured by boys like us." His fingers gave my nipple one last firm pinch before he leaned in closer, breath hot against my ear. "And I'll be more than happy to give her a taste."
9.5
Alina was the eldest daughter of the prestigious Padilla family, but everyone mocked her as a defective dud who couldn't cast a single spell.
The moment she woke up, her father and younger sister Karina barged into her room, demanding she sign a transfer agreement to the Aethelgard Order-the most brutal faction on the continent.
It wasn't just a transfer; it was a legal disownment. In her past life, Alina didn't realize Karina was also reborn. She had dropped to her knees and begged to stay. Her reward? Her magic was violently drained from her veins by her own family. Her fiancé drove a blade through her chest, and her sister stood over her bleeding body, smiling. She had ruined her hands making potions for them, only to be discarded like trash.
The phantom pain of her chest being ripped open still burned behind her ribs. Looking at the hypocritical family waiting for her tears, she felt nothing but exhausting disgust. Why should she ever be their stepping stone again?
"For the honor of the family, you leave today."
Her father sneered as she calmly bit her thumb and pressed her bloody fingerprint onto the contract. This time, Alina didn't cry. She packed a single bag and walked out the door, heading straight for the deadly Aethelgard Order to show them what a true monster looked like.
8.3
EDEN
8.3
Elianila, an AI Architect, is part of an elite team tasked with designing a global system meant to prevent threats, manage disasters, and distribute resources to vulnerable regions. After five years of tireless work with her colleagues, she uncovers disturbing anomalies, code-named, X-variables, that flag individuals according to criteria she never programmed.
As Elianila digs deeper to understand what the X-variables measure and where their origin, she finds herself in direct conflict with the authorities. Soon, the System marks her and her daughter as threats - targets to be eliminated.
With a small band of colleagues and dissidents, Elianila goes on the run, hiding in places beyond the Systems reach. As they evade surveillance, they race against time to warn others, expose the truth, and fight back against the omnipresent authority of the System.
7.3
Clara came home from a fourteen-hour board meeting to the sound of a piercing scream in the playroom.
When she rushed in, she found her husband, Chadwick, kneeling on the floor in a panic.
But he wasn't looking at their five-year-old son, Leo, who had a massive bleeding welt on his forehead.
Instead, Chadwick was trembling as he held the nanny's daughter, Autumn, who barely had a microscopic scratch.
"She needs ice. And antibacterial ointment," Chadwick snapped, carrying the nanny's daughter away and leaving his bleeding son behind.
From that moment, the nightmare only escalated.
Chadwick ordered Clara to cook a three-hour meal for the nanny's kid, threw away Leo's favorite toys because Autumn sneezed, and even secretly took the nanny and her daughter on Leo's promised Disney trip.
The final humiliation came at the Met Gala.
Right before their sponsor speech, Chadwick received a frantic call from the nanny claiming Autumn was having a panic attack.
He abandoned Clara in front of hundreds of flashing cameras, sprinting out of the ballroom.
Clara stood completely alone, the humiliation eating through her veins like acid.
She couldn't understand how a father could call the nanny's kid his "little princess" while watching his own son cry.
Why was he treating his own flesh and blood like garbage just to play savior to another woman's child?
Suddenly, the blinding camera flashes were blocked by a massive shadow.
Erasmo Chase, the heir to New York's largest financial dynasty, stepped out of the darkness and shielded her.
"A man like that is unworthy of your grief, Ms. Best," he whispered, pressing a silk handkerchief into her trembling hand.
Looking at the sharp profile of the powerful man beside her, Clara's shock hardened into a lethal, cold fury.
She was going to dump her family's shares, crash the board, and make Chadwick lose absolutely everything.
9.2
He married her to control her.
To break her.
To own her.
Seraphina let him believe it.
She plays the quiet wife-
soft voice, lowered eyes, perfect obedience.
But behind every smile...
is a plan he was never meant to survive.
Because this marriage was never about love.
Not even power.
It was revenge.
And when Lucien finally uncovers the truth-
when he realizes who she really is...
he won't be fighting to keep her.
He'll be begging to escape her.