Rediscovering My Worth

The Inter-Pack Summit's grand hall glowed with ceremonial torches, casting dramatic shadows across the faces of the most powerful Alphas in the region. I stood at the entrance, my silver aura radiating outward in controlled waves—not a display of emotion, but a calculated reminder of the Silvermoon Pack's strength under my leadership. Marcus positioned himself precisely one step behind me and to my right, his presence a silent comfort through our private mind-link. *They're all watching for weakness,* he observed, his thoughts flowing into mine with familiar ease. *Then they'll find none,* I replied, scanning the room with measured indifference. Alpha Kaelen Blackwood approached first, his dark eyes evaluating me with the same predatory calculation I recognized in myself. "Alpha Victoria," he greeted, inclining his head just slightly enough to acknowledge my status without suggesting submission. "Your champion has brought considerable attention to the Silvermoon territory." "As intended," I replied coolly, the subtle tap of my index finger against my thigh the only outward sign of my strategic assessment. Ryan Mitchell had indeed brought attention—attention I had meticulously orchestrated over five years of investment. The rogue I'd salvaged from starvation had been molded into a weapon that now represented Silvermoon dominance in combat.

The scent of pine and mountain air clung to my skin as I stepped into the sprawling neutral-territory lodge. My heart fluttered with anticipation, one hand instinctively resting on my still-flat stomach where our future heir grew. Three weeks of morning sickness had confirmed what my wolf, Luna, had already whispered to me – I was carrying Michael's pup, the future Alpha of Silver Creek Pack. "He's going to be so happy," I whispered to my wolf, feeling her eager agreement pulse through our shared consciousness. *He'll finally look at us the way he did when we first mated,* Luna murmured inside my mind. I hadn't told anyone about my pregnancy, not even my mother back in the Moonstone Pack. This moment belonged to Michael first – my Alpha, my mate, the man who had swept me into his world three years ago with promises of devotion and protection. The marble floors echoed beneath my careful steps as I followed the familiar trail of Michael's scent – sandalwood and authority, a commanding presence that had always made my knees weak. The diplomatic meetings between packs had kept him away for nearly two weeks, and though he'd ordered me to stay at our pack house, I couldn't bear to wait another day to share our miracle. My fingers trembled slightly as I traced his scent down a long corridor lined with carved wooden doors.

Content: (Warning! + 18 Sexual elements, Alpha Wolf, Witch, Cursed Love, Small Town, Young Wolf, War, Age Gap, Passion, Consensual Fantasy, Psychological Elements, Strong Female Lead, Drama, Romance) Bound by blood, sealed by magic. You have finally come, Rose's daughter... Eva Rose is the last and most powerful heir of a sacred witch bloodline. Kael is a cursed Crimson Alpha King. Centuries ago, on the night they discovered they were fated mates and were about to be married, their enemies attacked to destroy them both. To save Kael, Eva made a desperate choice , she trapped him in a magical sleep for 200 years. The price was her own life. But their love was so powerful that Eva did not truly die , she was reborn. Through her own bloodline, she returned to the world as the same woman, with the same soul, the same heart. Now, who is friend and who is enemy? And why does this man feel so strangely familiar? How can you escape someone who even visits your dreams?. 📌📚🔥

“Don’t stop,” she whispered. “She won’t come up.” I did. I stopped breathing. Thinking. Existing. The voice came from inside my bedroom—our bedroom. My sanctuary. I stood frozen in the hallway, dinner still warm downstairs, candles flickering in a room that no longer mattered. The scent of truffle butter still clung to my sleeves. Through the door—left carelessly ajar—I saw enough. A woman with auburn hair and wine-colored nails was curled into my husband's side, her lipstick smeared across his throat like a bruise. Her fingers skimmed down his back, possessive, practiced. Oliver moaned softly. A sound I hadn’t heard in months. I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry. I turned. Through the adjoining bathroom, I slipped into the walk-in closet, hiding behind the luxury he insisted I needed. Dresses lined in neat rows. Shoes in pyramids. A fortress of silk and leather and betrayal. I sat down, gripping the hem of my dress, listening. “I don’t know why you’re still stalling,” Lily said, her voice languid and confident. “She’s not stupid, Oliver. She’s suspicious. You said she keeps asking questions.” He sighed. “Let her ask. She won’t do anything. Not until it’s too late.” A beat. “She’s planning something tonight,” he added, almost amused. “Made some kind of fancy dinner. Probably filet again. It’s sweet, in a tragic way.” Lily giggled. “You think she’s figured out we’ve been using her?” “Scarlett sees what she wants to see. She’s desperate. That’s what makes it easy.” There was movement on the bed. Sheets shifting. “She still has no idea about the inheritance?” Lily murmured. “None,” he said. “Her father’s trust releases next month. Once the money hits the accounts, I’ll serve the papers. I’ve already started moving things offshore.” My throat closed. I bit the inside of my cheek so hard I tasted blood. So this was what I got from our five-year marriage.

Chapter 1 It was their seventh wedding anniversary. Carolyn found the divorce agreement in Roger’s nightstand. The pages were covered in scribbles and corrections, as if he’d agonized over them for years. *"If, during the marriage, I fall in love with another person, I voluntarily relinquish all assets and leave with nothing. Asset details as follows…"* His first impulse had been to walk away empty-handed. But the asset section told a different story—a mess of revisions. First, he’d crossed out the property he intended to give her. Then, the fifty million earmarked for her was scratched out and replaced with five hundred thousand. Finally, as if in penance, he had written a single line. *"Better to have Carolyn leave with nothing. No choice, Catherine is pregnant."* … Carolyn sank onto the bed, disbelief washing over her. On the agreement, Roger’s signature was clean and decisive, without a hint of hesitation. And the document had been drafted seven years ago—the very year they married. That year, Roger had been willing to give up everything for her. Yet every year after, he had crossed out another piece of their shared life. Now, seven years later, the one leaving with nothing would be her. Her phone buzzed abruptly. A message from Roger. *"Urgent business. Won't be back."* She called, only to find his phone already switched off. Another notification flashed—a screenshot from a friend. Catherine, the student she sponsored, had posted on social media. *"Wow, got praised! To commemorate my first period without a leak, the big boss said we should celebrate properly!"* In a nine-photo collage, Roger gazed at her, eyes crinkling with affection as he fastened a dazzling gemstone necklace around her neck. The post was tagged at a couples-themed hotel. Carolyn’s breath caught. He couldn’t remember seven years of marriage, of weathering storms together—but he could find the energy to celebrate Catherine’s… leak-free period. And that pendant… she’d seen it at an auction just last week. It was her mother’s lost heirloom. She’d been ready to bid when her bank card was frozen. She’d asked Roger why. A long time later, he finally texted back, telling her not to waste money on such impractical things. Clutching her bidding paddle, she’d sat helplessly in the auction hall. In the end, she resolved to sell one of her own designs to raise the funds. But someone on the phone swooped in with an unbeatable offer and took it. For weeks afterward, Carolyn hated herself—hated that she couldn’t protect her mother’s last keepsake. She never imagined the one who snatched it away was Roger. He knew exactly how much that pendant meant to her. Yet he gave it to Catherine. Even on their seventh anniversary, Roger had lied about being busy with work, while wining and dining the girl she’d sponsored. The anniversary gift he left her was a divorce agreement demanding she leave with nothing. Seven years of marriage. Seven years of infidelity. And Carolyn had known nothing. She’d even introduced the other woman to him herself. Catherine was the impoverished student Carolyn sponsored. The first time Catherine came to their home to give thanks, Roger found her intrusive and disliked her on sight. *"That girl has no manners. Tracked mud all over my cashmere rug."* *"If her grades aren’t up to par, cut the sponsorship."* Back then, Carolyn had teased him, saying not to be jealous—it was good the girl had a grateful heart. She never once suspected Roger and Catherine. For seven years, everyone in their circle believed Roger never played around. That he loved only Carolyn. But by their next meeting, Catherine had become Roger’s personal assistant. Roger explained, *"The girl’s had it tough. You’ve sponsored her for years. Giving her a job is just helping you out."* Carolyn had laughed it off. Now, hands trembling, she opened Catherine’s social media feed. Catherine had always hidden her posts from Carolyn. Now, she seemed desperate to flaunt everything. While Carolyn drank until her stomach bled to secure a deal for Roger, Catherine was using Roger’s card to buy her first Louis Vuitton. While Carolyn changed bedpans for Roger’s bedridden grandmother, Roger was taking Catherine to a perfume atelier for a blending class—calling it a business trip. Catherine had even complained online. *"Your wife is such a pampered princess. Can't handle the tiniest thing without you running back. Can she not live without a man?"* And Roger had replied beneath it. *"If she were half as independent as you, I’d have an easier life."* But that day… Carolyn’s mother had lost her battle with cancer. She’d cried until her heart felt shredded, scrambling to handle the arrangements. All the while, Roger kept checking his phone impatiently, eager to leave. Not for work, she realized now—but because he was desperate to get back to Catherine.

The Plaza Hotel's bridal suite was bathed in soft morning light as I stood before the ornate mirror. My reflection stared back at me—eyes bright with anticipation, cheeks flushed with excitement. Today was supposed to be the beginning of forever. "You look beautiful," my makeup artist had whispered just moments ago. "Caspian won't know what hit him." I smiled, touching the delicate lace of my custom Vera Wang gown. Ten years of love, of building a life together, all culminating in this perfect day. My fingers trembled slightly as I adjusted my veil. "I'm just nervous," I whispered to my reflection, trying to calm the flutter in my stomach. The lights above me flickered once, twice. I frowned, glancing upward.