Piper Hayes

"How dare you?" Acacia's voice cracks with rage. "How dare you let them throw you a birthday party?"

Blood fills my mouth. I bite down hard, refusing to scream.

"They never threw ME a party!" She shrieks. "But they all revolve around YOU!"

My wolf snarls inside my head, desperate to break free. But I force her back. Can't shift. Not here.

When they finally see what have happened to me, I face them with exhaustion:

"Everything you guys worship? I hate it. Survival of the fittest, strong picking on weak... We're werewolves. We have brains, feelings, the ability to choose kindness."

The triplets stare in shock as I continue.

"If I took your help now, what's the difference between me and you? I'd just be another person benefiting from this screwed-up system."

Magnus steps forward. "Evelyn, we can change—"

"Can you? When you're leaders, you gonna tell all the high-ranking wolves that everyone gets treated equal now?"

Silence.

"I hope when I leave, it reminds you of something."


Evelyn has endured years of brutal abuse while keeping her early-awakened wolf and deadly combat abilities hidden from everyone in Polaris Pack. When the future Alpha triplets and their inner circle finally discover her secrets, they're horrified by what they've overlooked.

But Evelyn refuses their help. She's learned to survive by staying invisible, protecting weaker pack members by drawing the bullies' attention to herself instead.

With silver-laced scars as proof of her suffering and three powerful Alpha heirs determined to break down her walls, will Evelyn find the strength to challenge the pack's cruel hierarchy? Or will revealing her true power destroy everything she's sacrificed to protect before she can claim her freedom?

I thought my biggest problem was being an Alpha's daughter without Alpha bloodline. Boy, was I wrong.

The moment I stepped into Crescent Valley Royal University, my so-called "arranged fiancé" Ethan Blackstone made it crystal clear what he thought of me: "A common she-wolf without even Alpha bloodline thinks she's worthy of being with me?" His public humiliation cut deep, but it was nothing compared to what came next.

He pointed to the lone figure training in the corner - a dark-haired guy everyone whispered about in fear. "You two are perfect match. A rogue king's son paired with a bloodline-less she-wolf."

Kael Nightshade. The son of the infamous rogue king who once threatened our entire world. Scarred, dangerous, and absolutely untouchable according to everyone around me.

Except I couldn't stop looking at those deep green eyes that held more pain than anyone should carry. I couldn't ignore the way he endured their cruelty with heartbreaking pride. And I definitely couldn't resist the pull I felt toward him from that very first moment.

They said helping him was social suicide. They said I was wasting expensive moonstone powder on someone who'd never appreciate it. They said a lot of things.

What they didn't know was that some bonds are written in starlight, and Moon Goddess has plans that go far beyond bloodline politics. What they couldn't have guessed was that the "worthless" Alpha's daughter and the "dangerous" rogue prince were both carrying secrets that would change everything.

I thought ten years of childhood sweethearts could weather any storm.

Until that night when Charles rushed out after her call, leaving me alone in bed with his child growing inside me, not knowing how to tell him.

Seraphina Blackwood, tech dynasty heiress, threatened Charles with her father's billion-dollar empire to marry her. And me? Just an orphan girl who seemed to mean nothing in Silicon Valley's power games.

When I watched him remove our wedding ring, when I saw their sweet photos at the hospital, when I lay bleeding on the floor and he chose her... I finally understood that maybe love really can't survive against money.

But what I didn't know was that while I started my new life in Switzerland, there was a man secretly protecting me with his kidney, his heart, his everything...

Until his assistant appeared at my little bakery, desperation in his eyes: "Ms. Thorne, please, you have to save him!"

I'm Vivian Miller, USC Film School graduate and Hollywood production assistant. For three years, I used my connections and resources to build my husband Rick into one of the hottest independent producers in town.

On our anniversary night, I prepared a three-layer cake and candlelit dinner, waiting for him to come home from the Oscar after-party. Instead, I got red lipstick stains on his shirt and the lingering scent of unfamiliar perfume.

When I discovered that woman was Oscar-nominated actress Amy Williams, everything clicked. She was his college sweetheart, his white moonlight. And me? Just her substitute.

The cruelest truth was yet to come—our wedding anniversary was Amy's birthday.

After our divorce, I thought leaving quietly would give me a fresh start. I was wrong. Amy wanted to destroy me completely. Online harassment, job offers rescinded, fans attacking me on the street... she wanted me erased.

But what she didn't know was that every project idea in Rick's company came from me. Those copyrights belonged to me all along.

Golden Globe red carpet, under the spotlight, when I stood before Rick and Amy, all of Hollywood had no idea what was about to unfold.

My name is Isabella, Silicon Valley's top psychologist, and I've suffered from emotional detachment disorder for twenty-two years.

On Valentine's Day, I left work early to surprise my husband, only to walk in on him and my stepsister Selena having sex in our bed. Three years of marriage, destroyed by the most grotesque betrayal I could witness.

"You're just like your mother, never able to keep a man's heart!" Damian's words cut through me like knives.

I stared at their tangled bodies, feeling something foreign stirring inside me for the first time in decades. For the first time in twenty-two years, I wanted to destroy everything.

When my fist connected with the stepmother who destroyed my mother, when my palm cracked across that bitch stepsister's face, I suddenly understood a fundamental truth—

Some people just need to be taught a lesson.

And I happen to be an excellent teacher.

I was seventeen when I met him on the most dangerous streets of Boston—Marco Romano, an Irish street punk covered in blood. That night, he gave me a stolen rose, and I gave him my heart.

We lived in a broken one-room apartment, eating canned soup, but felt like we owned the world. He promised to protect me forever, and I swore never to leave him. But fate brought Vincent Torrino into my life—a devil of a mafia boss who threatened me with the vilest methods: "Either you leave Marco willingly, or I kill him."

On my eighteenth birthday, I told Marco the most painful lie of my life: "I'm tired of living this poor life with you." I watched the light die in his eyes, and my heart died with it.

Five years later, when I thought I'd never see him again, he appeared before me—no longer that street punk, but New York's most feared mafia don. Dressed in tailored suits, cold and ruthless, with a beautiful Hollywood actress by his side.

"Ms. Whitmore," he called me by my fake name in a voice both strange and dangerous, "pleasure to meet you."

But when his green eyes looked at me, I knew that some loves, even when torn apart and buried, never truly die...

I died at seventeen on a Christmas night, bleeding out on cold pavement while my bullies scattered. "If there's a next life, Mom... just go without me this time."

But I woke up back to that day—fifteen years old again, standing in the chaos of FBI cameras and reporters. The day they rescued us from that mountain hell.

In my past life, when the Whitman family found their long-lost daughter Rose, I was just unwanted baggage. The murderer's child. My mother couldn't even look at me without shaking—I was her walking nightmare, a trigger for her trauma.

This time should be exactly the same. I'm ready to walk away, to tell the reporters I'm "just passing by."

But then a hand suddenly grabs my wrist with desperate strength.

I turn around, and it's her—my mother, Rose Whitman. But this time, her eyes aren't empty. They're blazing with something I've never seen before.

"She is my daughter!" she declares to the shocked crowd. "And I'm taking her home!"

Wait... what? Why is everything different this time?