The Villainous Matriarch's Secretly Pampered Wolf Consorts
Ella was a dedicated veterinary surgeon in New York. But when she opened her eyes again, she woke up in a brutal, magical world.
Before she could even process her surroundings, a jagged bone dagger smashed into her pillow, missing her jugular by an inch.
The assassin was a young wolf beastman, glaring at her with bloodshot, feral hatred.
Memories crashed into her brain. She had transmigrated into the body of Ella Ortiz, a sadistic matriarch who tortured her bound beastman consorts for sport.
The original owner had just whipped the wolf boy's older brother with a flesh-rotting toxin, leaving him chained in the dungeon to die of sepsis. She had even banished a blinded leopard to a monster-infested forest.
They hated her enough to kill her, but they were bound by the Beast Mark. If she died, their energy cores would detonate instantly.
To save the dying brother, Ella had to rely on a newly activated Villain System.
But there was a sick catch: she could only buy modern, life-saving medicine by earning "Animosity Points."
She had to act like the cruel, arrogant tyrant they despised.
To harvest their hatred, she had to secretly heal their horrific wounds while publicly kicking them, mocking them, and violently abusing them.
As an animal lover, seeing these traumatized beastmen tremble in fear at her feet tore her heart to shreds. Why did she have to be a monster just to keep them breathing?
But watching the dying wolf finally breathe steadily after she secretly injected him with a serum, she made her choice.
If playing the psychopath was the only way to keep her consorts alive, she would be the greatest villain this world had ever seen.
"Pack your gear," Ella ordered her trembling guards, crushing her guilt beneath a cold sneer. "We are going into the Mist Forest to find that blind leopard."
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Chapter 5
Ella's hand paused over the crushed herbs. She closed her eyes for a fraction of a second and mentally slammed her finger onto the golden Purchase button.
[Transaction complete. Deducting all Animosity Points, ] Lex Cantor stated flatly.
A faint, almost invisible shimmer of light flashed inside the wide, bell-shaped sleeve of her vintage dress. A cold, heavy object materialized against her forearm.
It was a sterile, modern syringe, filled with a glowing, neon-blue liquid.
Ella opened her eyes. She scooped up a handful of the bitter, dirt-filled herb paste. She turned around, deliberately positioning her body to completely block Daulton and Kevan's line of sight.
She knelt beside Cordaro. She pretended to smear the messy green paste over the horrific wound on his chest.
Under the cover of her own body and the thick paste, she slid the syringe down her sleeve into her palm. She found the thick jugular vein pulsing weakly at the side of Cordaro's neck.
Without a moment's hesitation, she drove the needle in.
The cold steel pierced his skin. Cordaro, deep in his coma, let out a muffled groan of agony. His massive body jerked upward, fighting the intrusion.
Hearing the groan, Daulton lost his mind. He lunged forward, his claws extending from his fingertips.
Kevan caught him around the waist, tackling him to the floor and holding him back with all his remaining strength.
Ella's thumb pushed the plunger down flawlessly. The blue serum vanished into Cordaro's bloodstream. She pulled the needle out and instantly slapped a thick glob of muddy herb paste directly over the puncture mark, erasing all physical evidence of the injection.
The entire process took less than three seconds. It was the muscle memory of a trauma vet.
She slipped the empty syringe back up her sleeve and stood up.
The effects of the System's serum were instantaneous and terrifyingly powerful.
Cordaro's skin, which had been burning up with fever, began to cool visibly. The rapid, wet rattling in his lungs smoothed out into deep, steady breaths.
Most shocking of all, the edges of the deep, festering whip marks on his chest stopped oozing yellow pus. The raw meat began to knit together, forming thick, healthy scabs right before their eyes.
Daulton stopped fighting Kevan. He went entirely limp, staring at his brother's chest. He rubbed his eyes with his fists, convinced he was hallucinating.
Kevan's jaw dropped. He knew exactly what Blood-Stop weed did. It stopped bleeding. It did not regrow flesh and cure sepsis in ten seconds. This was impossible.
Ella looked down at their stunned faces.
She knew she couldn't take credit for this. If she suddenly possessed god-like healing powers, they would know she wasn't the real Ella Ortiz. She would be exposed as a transmigrator, and in this superstitious world, she'd be burned at the stake.
She needed a scapegoat.
Ella let out a loud, dramatic scoff. She crossed her arms, twisting her face into a mask of bitter jealousy.
"Don't look so surprised," she spat. "I mixed a vial of my dear stepsister's Holy Water into the herbs. Kendra's little parlor tricks are the only reason this worthless piece of meat isn't rotting in the dirt."
Kendra Klein. The Oracle. The beloved Saintess of the valley.
At the mention of Kendra's name, Kevan's eyes darkened. A complex, unreadable emotion flashed across his face.
But Daulton swallowed the lie completely. In this world, only the Saintess possessed the power of miraculous healing. It made perfect sense.
The tiny, fragile seed of gratitude that had started to sprout in Daulton's heart instantly withered and died. He didn't owe Ella anything. The Saintess had saved his brother.
Ella watched Daulton's expression harden. She felt a sharp twinge of annoyance at giving that two-faced Saintess the credit, but it kept her safe.
She kicked the heavy trailing ends of the iron chains pooled on the floor. The loud clatter made both men jump.
"Since your brother isn't going to die and ruin my carpet," Ella snapped at Daulton, "get out of here. Go clean the stables. Every single stall. If I see a speck of dirt, I'll whip you myself."
Daulton clenched his jaw so hard his teeth ground together. He looked at Cordaro's steadily rising chest. For the first time since she woke up, Daulton didn't argue. He gave a stiff, jerky nod and bolted from the cell.
Ella turned to Kevan. Her eyes dropped to his hands. The cuts were still bleeding sluggishly.
She needed more points.
"You," she commanded coldly. "Follow me to my study. You got your filthy blood on my dress. I'm going to punish you properly."
Kevan's body gave a violent tremor. He knew what happened in her study. But he lowered his head, hiding his eyes.
"Yes, Master."
Ella turned and walked out of the dungeon. As she hit the stairs, the System chimed again, letting her know new items were available in the shop.
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He doesn't believe in halfway love.
7.9
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9.0
I traded my innocence to my fated mate, the Alpha King, just to get a stalk of Moonlight Grass to save my dying brother.
But after a night of agonizing physical connection, he didn't mark me. Instead, he tossed me a single, useless dried leaf and a credit card, treating our sacred bond like a cheap transaction.
When I refused his insulting offer to be his secret, nameless mistress, he choked me against a wall and banished me from his lands forever. I fled to the human city, only to watch from the shadows a week later as he publicly escorted a pure-blood noble female, preparing to make her his Luna. Meanwhile, I was forced to sell herbs in the lawless black market just to survive, where I was cornered by a gang of violent rogues.
I didn't understand. We were chosen by the Moon Goddess. When our skin touched, the mating sparks nearly blinded us both. Why did he look at me with such cold disgust? Why did he throw me away like trash, only to parade another woman as his queen?
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The man stepping out was the Alpha King who had sworn to kill me if he ever saw me again.
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"She's mine."
9.2
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Reborn at the very moment everything began, Lainey called off the wedding without hesitation. But after losing her, Larry begged desperately.
Lainey shot him a cold look, then turned and walked straight into the arms of a powerful, aloof man, who stared down at Larry with pure contempt. "She's my wife now."
7.9
Cora Foster was a brilliant archaeologist, but a jagged burn scar across her face made the world treat her like a contagious monster.
During an elite excavation of a Gilded Age crypt, touching an ancient artifact triggered a terrifying memory. She remembered being Seraphina Beaumont, a socialite brutally buried alive by her vain, cruel sister, Isolde.
When the team pried open the crypt's pristine mahogany casket, they cheered, believing the mummified corpse inside was Seraphina. But Cora recognized the onyx hairpin and the angular jawline. It was Isolde. The sister who had stolen her life, mocked her agony, and left her to suffocate in the dark. Her colleagues scoffed at her forensic proof, dismissing her as a scarred, delusional liability.
Worse, the ruthless billionaire funding the expedition, Julian Montgomery, was the spitting image of Alistair—the man Seraphina had deeply loved. Why was Julian staring at her ruined face with such intense, inexplicable recognition? And why did Isolde take Seraphina's most precious silver ring to the grave?
Driven by a century of agonizing grief, Cora secretly pried the tarnished ring from the mummy's stiff, dead fingers and dropped it into her pocket.
"What are you looking at, Foster?"
Julian's deep voice vibrated inches from her ear, his cold, predatory eyes locked directly onto her half-open pocket.
8.7
Kaylee woke up to the smell of rotting leaves and blood, realizing she had transmigrated into the grimdark fantasy novel she was reading last night.
A robotic system in her head immediately delivered a death sentence: she was the tribe's vicious cannon fodder, and the male lead—a brutally tortured slave named Elijah—was currently dying on a totem pole outside.
"If he dies, you will face instant soul-detonation."
Kaylee rushed to the plaza, using her villainous authority to stop the execution and drag his mangled body back to her hut.
But saving him was a nightmare.
The original owner's sadism had traumatized him so deeply that her gentle touches and clean bandages only triggered his PTSD.
His feral energy spiraled out of control, his golden eyes burning with paranoid terror as he waited for a new, twisted psychological game.
To keep his energy from detonating and killing them both, Kaylee was forced to act like a monster.
"I didn't save you because I care. A dead slave is useless to me."
Only her cruel insults and threats of future torture calmed his broken mind.
Adding to her despair, she stumbled upon the novel's supposedly innocent heroine in the forest, only to hear her system detect a terrifying anomaly.
The fragile heroine had her own cheat system.
Trapped with a paranoid future-tyrant and a rival player manipulating the tribe's strongest warriors, Kaylee shoved a bowl of hot stew at the bleeding slave with a mocking sneer.
To survive this hell, she had to play the villain perfectly.