
Redeeming The Hearts Of My Beasts
I died on an apocalyptic battlefield, only to wake up pinned down by a lead-lined blanket of my own fat.
A violent download of memories hit me. I had transmigrated into the body of an exiled, sadistic noblewoman who was three million coins in debt.
The original owner was an absolute monster. She had purchased beastman guards just to torture them for fun. In the corner of the filthy room, a golden retriever boy cowered, his back shredded by her barbed whip. In the basement, a snake guard was frozen and scarred from constant electro-shocks. When the white tiger guard returned from hard labor, he looked at me with pure, murderous hatred, ready to tear me apart to protect the others. Even the local elites kicked down my door to mock my pathetic life and try to steal my men.
I was a decorated commander who bled for humanity. Why was I trapped in this ruined vessel, bearing the sins of a degenerate abuser?
It was all a setup by her sweet-faced cousin, Debera, who stole her royal life and sent her to this outer-rim hellhole to rot.
I gritted my teeth and plunged a military-grade gene repair serum into my arm, letting the agony burn away the black filth and weakness.
"The crazy woman you knew before is dead."
I tossed a medical kit to the trembling guards, loaded my old electromagnetic pistol, and headed for the deadly Demon Hunting Zone to start my revenge.
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Chapter 7
Ina paused at the foot of the stairs. She looked back at the two men still standing in the wreckage of the living room.
"Put the medicine on him," she said, nodding toward the supplies on the floor. "If you don't want his wounds to fester." She didn't wait for a response. She climbed the stairs, her heavy footsteps fading away.
Denton watched her go. He swallowed hard. He bent down and picked up the disinfectant and the gauze.
Five minutes later, Ina came back down. She had washed her hands and changed into a clean t-shirt. The cut on her hand was covered with a bandage.
The living room was quiet. Denton had finished bandaging Angel. They sat on the sofa, the tension between them thick enough to cut with a knife.
Ina walked over and sat in the armchair opposite them. She looked at Angel. The boy was still trembling, his ears flat. The earlier shock had rattled him badly.
The external threat was gone, for now, but Ina's gaze softened as it fell on the terrified golden-haired boy. The trauma etched into his very posture was a deeper, more festering wound than any physical harm Charlee could inflict. Arno's data files surfaced in her mind, detailing the unique biological mechanisms of this universe. She remembered what Arno had told her. In this world, females had a natural ability to soothe the mental turbulence of beastmen. It was a biological mechanism, a way to calm the violent instincts that lurked inside them.
Ina stood up. She walked over to Angel. Denton immediately tensed, his muscles rigid, but he didn't stop her. He just watched, his eyes wary.
Ina slowly reached out her hand. She didn't grab. She didn't force. She just gently placed her palm on top of Angel's golden hair.
The moment her skin touched his, something happened. A faint blue current of energy flowed from her palm into Angel's body.
Angel gasped. His golden ears shot straight up. His blue eyes widened in shock.
The energy was warm. It felt like sunshine after a long winter. It seeped into his bones, soothing the aches, calming the storm of fear and pain that had been raging inside him for years. The chaotic energy factors in his body, driven mad by the abuse, began to settle.
But Ina had underestimated the power hidden in this body. She didn't know how to control the "spiritual soothing" unique to this world. She pushed too much energy, too fast.
It wasn't just soothing. It was overwhelming.
Angel's breathing suddenly turned ragged. His face flushed a deep red. The whites of his eyes began to glow with a feral golden light.
"Target Angel Baldwin entering Primal Surge," Arno warned in her head. "Energy overload. Instincts taking over."
Angel's fear was gone. In its place was a burning, desperate need. He looked up at Ina, his eyes wild with a hunger that was far from fear.
He lunged.
His arms wrapped around Ina's waist with surprising strength. He buried his face in her stomach, inhaling deeply. A low, needy whine escaped his throat.
Ina froze. This was not the reaction she had expected. "Angel? What are you doing? Let go!"
But Angel couldn't hear her. He was lost in the surge. He pushed forward, trying to pin her to the sofa.
Denton reacted instantly. He recognized the signs. This was a gene rampage caused by high-level mental soothing.
"Angel! Snap out of it!" Denton roared. He grabbed Angel by the back of the collar and hauled him off Ina.
But Angel was strong. Stronger than he looked. In his berserk state, his latent power had awakened. He swatted Denton away with a backhand, sending the larger man stumbling back two steps.
Ina fell back onto the sofa. Angel was on top of her, his hot breath on her neck. The scent of his pheromones was thick and sweet, filling the air.
Her combat instincts screamed at her to knee him in the gut, to disable the threat. But her mind held her back. This was Angel. He wasn't attacking her out of malice. He was sick. He was out of control.
Denton steadied himself. His arms rippled, faint white stripes appearing on his skin. He charged again, this time using his beastman strength. He grabbed Angel's arms and wrenched them behind his back, forcing the boy down onto the floor.
Angel thrashed and roared, his eyes fixed on Ina, full of desperate longing.
Ina scrambled up, her heart pounding. She looked at the struggling boy on the floor. "What's happening?" she demanded.
Denton gritted his teeth, struggling to hold Angel down. He looked up at Ina, his expression a mix of anger and disbelief. "You don't know? You just gave him a deep mental soothing. You triggered his gene resonance!"
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7.4
In a city where data is power and truth is a weapon, some secrets are worth killing for.
Mara Quinn is a ghost in the system, an underground journalist known only as Cipher, feared by corporations and hunted by those with everything to lose. When she breaches a classified network inside Axiom Industries, she uncovers something no one was meant to see: ORACLE, a predictive AI capable of shaping human behavior on a global scale.
She expects retaliation. She doesn't expect Kael Draven.
Cold, brilliant, and untouchable, Kael is the architect behind Axiom's empire, and a man who doesn't make threats he can't execute. Instead of silencing Mara, he offers her a choice: work under his watch, or disappear from existence entirely. Trapped inside his glass fortress known as The Spire, Mara is pulled deeper into a world of surveillance, manipulation, and power plays that stretch far beyond anything she imagined.
But ORACLE isn't just a tool, it's already been used. Governments have fallen. Empires have shifted. And someone else is pulling the strings.
As a rival syndicate closes in and a hidden war erupts across the city, Mara and Kael are forced into an uneasy alliance, one built on intellect, suspicion, and a dangerous, undeniable pull neither of them can ignore.
Because in a world where every move is predicted...
the only thing more dangerous than control is feeling.
And the system is already watching.

7.5
Kaitlyn Barton POV:
After three years building my family's hotel empire abroad, I came home to New York, expecting a warm embrace from my childhood fiancé, Edwin.
Instead, he greeted me with a warning. He told me to be gentle with his new girlfriend, Kacy, painting me as a villain before I even knew her name.
At my own welcome-home party, he let her stage a dramatic fall and then publicly blamed me for it, his eyes burning with a hatred I'd never seen.
He cradled her in his arms as if she were a fragile doll I had broken.
"Happy now, Kaitlyn?" he snarled, shattering twenty years of our shared history in front of everyone we knew.
In his eyes, I was no longer his love, but a monster he needed to protect his new flame from.
As he stormed out, my phone buzzed. It was a text from Everett Rowe, the man who had quietly loved me for five years.
"If you are truly ready, I will marry you. Right now. Just say the word."
My fingers moved on their own.
"Yes," I typed. "I'll marry you."
The moment I stepped back onto New York soil, a city I had once shared completely with Edwin, he greeted me not with a hug, but with a warning about his new girlfriend, painting me as the villain before I even knew her name. Three years abroad, cultivating my family's hotel empire, had prepared me for many business battles, but nothing for the cold, calculated betrayal that awaited me at home. He had replaced me, and then twisted our shared history, turning me into the aggressor he now needed protection from. This was not the reunion I had envisioned, nor the Edwin I remembered. My heart, which had swelled with anticipation, now froze into a solid block of ice.

9.5
One night, I was a girl seeking vengeance in a velvet mask. He was the stranger who took me against a cold stone wall, his touch a silent, lethal promise.
Now, he is Caspian Blackwood-the most feared architecture professor at Aethelgard. When my "perfect" boyfriend, Dominic Calloway, cheats on me and sabotages my degree, Caspian offers a lifeline with a razor-thin edge: Be his silent, nude model for thirty days.
The rules are absolute. I must wear a silk mask and a weighted collar. I must never speak. I must hold the poses he demands until my muscles scream for mercy. In the lecture hall, he ignores me with arctic indifference. In the studio, his gaze is a physical weight, stripping me faster than his hands ever could. But as the charcoal scratches against the paper, I realize the "deal" isn't just for art. It's for the soul I accidentally gave him in the dark. Will the deal destroy his career, or consume me first?

8.4
Kenzie, the former leader of the Aegis Alliance, opened her eyes to find herself reincarnated as a freezing, abandoned infant in a wet cardboard box.
She was rescued from the rain by Devin Ayers, a ruthless billionaire, and rushed to a private hospital, but a deadly threat was already waiting for her.
The ER doctor, Desiree Dillon, approached her with a syringe. Through a sudden burst of telepathy, Kenzie read the doctor's dark thoughts. Desiree wasn't trying to cure her fever. She deliberately ignored the safe dosage, drawing a lethal amount of Diazepam to permanently silence the crying baby and disguise it as sudden infant death.
"This will make it all go away," Desiree smiled gently, the needle glinting as it moved inches from Kenzie's arm.
Trapped in a weak, paralyzed three-month-old body, Kenzie couldn't run, fight, or even speak. She could only watch the poison inch closer.
How could she survive death only to be assassinated in a hospital bed by a corrupt doctor? She used to command armies. The sheer injustice and terror of dying completely helpless in this tiny body ignited a blinding rage inside her.
Refusing to be a victim again, Kenzie pushed her newborn brain to its absolute limit and unleashed a desperate telepathic scream directly into the billionaire's mind.
"Poison! She's trying to kill me!"
Devin, who had been looking away, suddenly froze, his icy gray eyes locking onto the doctor's wrist.

9.7
Agent Alivia Sanford opened her eyes to the suffocating stench of wild animal musk and raw sex.
She hadn't just transmigrated into a savage beastman world; she had woken up in the body of a 300-pound, diseased, and universally despised woman. Worse, the original owner had just drugged the tribe's strongest warrior, trying to force a mating.
Now, the warrior pinned her to the cave floor with murderous fury.
"You think you can trap me, you disgusting pig?" he snarled, ready to rip her throat out.
After kneeing him and escaping, a "Super Charm AI" bound to her mind demanded she conquer her five designated mates to survive. But these men treated her like a walking plague. They mocked her bloated face, threw bloody raw meat into the mud for her to eat, and publicly announced they would starve her to death. Even her own family looked at her with utter disgust.
In her past life, she was a legendary survivor who could have crushed these arrogant men with her bare hands. Now, she was trapped in a weak shell, threatened with soul erasure by a system if she didn't grovel for their affection. Why should she beg for love from beasts who wanted her dead?
Looking at the five "-100" hostility scores on her system panel, Alivia coldly drew a mental cross over each of their faces. Enduring agonizing pain, she forced her bio-manipulation ability to violently purge the toxins from her fat body. She wasn't going to play their twisted game; she was going to find her own resources and make them pay.

9.6
I was only three and a half years old, living in a damp basement and beaten daily by Enoch Pruitt with a heavy leather whip.
"Get up, you useless waste of space!"
He always told me I was a stray he had picked out of the garbage.
But during one brutal beating that nearly stopped my heart, time froze, and a glowing figure called The Chronicler appeared.
"You are not an abandoned orphan, Clare. You carry the blood of the highest gods."
He revealed that I was the stolen daughter of the ultra-wealthy Barrett family.
Then, he showed me the horrific ending of my previous life.
I had died right here on this bloody dirt floor.
My real parents and three brothers went completely insane with grief, turning into ruthless monsters who destroyed themselves and the entire world to avenge me.
Meanwhile, the Pruitt family kept torturing me, locking me in a woodshed and feeding me moldy bread.
The memory of my bones breaking and my real mother's agonizing screams crushed my chest.
Why did I have to suffer like an animal while my true family tore the world apart looking for me?
This time, I refused to die in the mud.
I accepted my divine blood, my eyes glowing gold as I summoned a bolt of purple lightning to strike my abuser.
I just needed to survive the night.
Because my real father's heavily armed convoy was already tearing up the mountain, ready to burn this hell to the ground.