Mu Xiaoou
17 Published Stories
Mu Xiaoou's Books and Stories
The Rejected Mate's SSS-Class Awakening
Fantasy To save her husband from his berserk agony, Lyra braved a deadly radiation storm to deliver a rare soothing crystal.
In return, she watched him deploy his highest-tier energy shield to protect a hypocritical white lotus and Lyra's own ungrateful daughter, leaving Lyra to rot in the toxic mud.
"A useless E-class piece of trash who can't even protect herself. Stop embarrassing me." The high-and-mighty Commander sneered, ruthlessly crushing her hard-won crystal under his heavy boot.
Even the daughter she had drained her life force to save looked at her with pure disgust: "Auntie Sylvia is ten thousand times better than you. You're just garbage!"
In that moment, Lyra's heart went completely dead.
Without shedding a single tear, she decisively signed the Mate Contract Termination and walked away.
Everyone thought that without the Commander's protection, this E-class weakling wouldn't survive three days.
However, the near-death agony of severing the soul bond unexpectedly shattered her genetic shackles!
Blinding divine light tore through the galaxy as the universe's only SSS-class "Ultimate Adapter" terrifyingly awakened!
Absolute stellar defense, soul remolding, supreme beast subjugation... With a mere thought, her will made billions of stars tremble and grind to a halt, turning the galaxy's most brutal S-class Pirate Lord into a fanatic, groveling hound at her feet!
When her arrogant ex-husband finally learns the truth-kneeling in the mud like a stray dog, vomiting blood as he is ruthlessly crushed by her universe-shattering divine pressure-he will realize exactly what he destroyed with his own hands.
He didn't throw away a parasite; he discarded the sole true God of the entire universe! Acceptable Service: Tipping The Ruthless Billionaire
Modern I woke up in a penthouse suite at the Pierre with a hangover from hell and a naked man who looked like he'd been carved from marble. Thinking he was a high-end escort I couldn't afford, I left my last hundred dollars and a petty note on the nightstand.
"Service was acceptable. Keep the change."
But when I rushed home to check on my dying father, I found the locks changed and my boyfriend, Chad, draped over my stepsister on the landing. My stepmother, Meredith, didn't even look up from her coffee as she handed me a legal folder.
She told me to sign away my inheritance or she'd stop paying for my father's life support. The hospital called seconds later, demanding fifty thousand dollars by the end of the day, or they'd pull the plug.
Meredith had already arranged my "payment": a dinner with Boris Gorsky, a predator who collected young women like trophies. I was being sold to a monster to keep my father alive, standing in a thrift-store dress while my family laughed at my ruin.
I didn't understand how my life had collapsed in twelve hours, or how my own blood could put a price tag on a man's life. I sat at that restaurant trembling, waiting for the man who would buy my soul.
Then the man from the hotel walked in. It wasn't Gorsky; it was August Sanders, the billionaire CEO of a media empire, and he was holding my hundred-dollar bill.
He didn't want an apology; he wanted a contract wife for a year. He slid a confirmation for a five-hundred-thousand-dollar hospital deposit across the table and handed me a fountain pen.
"Welcome to the firm, Mrs. Sanders."
I signed the paper with a shaking hand, knowing I was trading my freedom for my father's life. But as August handed me his black card, I realized I finally had the weapon I needed to destroy the people who thought I was nothing. Her Fake Memory Loss, His Real Goodbye
Modern One phone call shattered a seven-year-long dream of love.
Holden Campbell believed his fiancée Avery's amnesia was a wound that needed patient healing. He used all his connections, booking appointments with the best neurologists on the East Coast, convinced that science and love could bring back the woman who had accepted his proposal. However, an overheard phone call plunged him into despair—Avery had never suffered from amnesia. She had simply grown tired of their "suffocatingly perfect life," using "selective amnesia" as a costless vacation, and he was nothing more than a toy she could put back on the shelf at any time.
When betrayal transformed from suspicion into irrefutable evidence, when his lover's laughter became the sharpest blade, Holden didn't break down, didn't confront her. He simply picked up his phone and dialed a lawyer's number: "I need to change my name. And, liquidate everything I own."
A meticulously planned disappearance began.
Behind him, the woman who thought she was in control remained unaware—her puppet had cut all its strings, and the script she had crafted was about to lose its only leading man. Reborn Heiress: Telepathic Hearts She Conquers
Billionaires I survived a zombie apocalypse, only to wake up in the shattered body of a fake heiress who had just jumped off a Hamptons balcony.
The wealthy Gallagher family stared at my bloody heap with disgust, convinced my suicide attempt was just another manipulative stunt.
But then, a supernatural glitch happened: my new family started hearing my uncensored inner thoughts.
At the breakfast table, starving and traumatized from the wasteland, I accidentally broadcasted my desperate craving for uncontaminated food. When the "perfect" future son-in-law, Hughie, walked in, my mind instantly recognized him. I mentally exposed his secret offshore shell companies and his plan to bankrupt the Gallaghers using toxic junk bonds.
I watched the family patriarch drop his coffee cup, the entire room turning pale as corpses as my blood-soaked, sarcastic warnings echoed inside their skulls.
I tried to expose the bastard out loud, but the universe's bizarre censorship laws physically choked me, forcing me to swallow the words. How was I supposed to save these naive, soft billionaires when I was literally gagged by the plot?
Then, Hughie handed the real daughter an invitation to a Hamptons reality TV show—a show I knew was a rigged death trap meant to ruin her.
I didn't panic. I just smiled and packed my bags.
"I'm going on that show too."
I slaughtered hordes of mutated freaks in the wasteland. Let's see how these high-society snakes handle a real apex predator. The Captain's Runaway Genius In Disguise
Mafia I was just a cleaner making fifteen dollars an hour, scrubbing floors to hide from a past that haunted me.
But when I walked into a billionaire's pristine penthouse, the suffocating visions hit me again. I saw a woman brutally murdered in a room that had been bleached spotless.
I called 911, and that brought the one man I had spent three years running from right to my door: NYPD Captain Kelvin O'Brien.
The patrol cops wanted to lock me up because I found the hidden blood too fast. To avoid a psych ward, I had to pretend my horrific supernatural visions were just brilliant deductive logic.
I had to physically endure the phantom sensation of the victim's throat being crushed and poison burning her stomach. All while Kelvin cornered me, demanding to know why I abandoned him and my title as the department's greatest asset, "The Oracle."
I didn't want to look at dead bodies anymore. I didn't want to feel their agonizing deaths. Why couldn't they just let me disappear?
But when the victim's wealthy husband walked into the precinct with a smug smile, ready to get away with murder, I couldn't stand it.
I forced myself to relive the victim's dying moments, guiding Kelvin to cut open her decomposed stomach to find the diamond ring she had swallowed.
"We have your blood inside her stomach."
His perfect alibi was shattered. But when we found an underground syndicate token hidden in his wallet, I knew my quiet life was over. The Widow's Price: Owned By Adrien
Modern I was the "charity case" widow at my billionaire husband’s funeral, clutching a glass of champagne my sister Chloe promised would calm my nerves.
Ten minutes later, the room began to spin and a drugged heat surged through my veins, turning me into a wounded deer among a room full of wolves.
I stumbled into a dark suite to hide, only to find Adrien Larsen—the man even the devil feared—waiting in the shadows with a silver Zippo and a predatory gaze.
To survive the night, I had to let him drench me in a cold shower and then crawl through a muddy pond, cutting my own skin just to frame my disappearance as an accident instead of a sex scandal.
The next morning, Adrien revealed that my sister had forged my name on three million dollars of debt, leaving me with two choices: a prison cell or a contract that stated I now "belonged" to him.
I couldn't understand why my own sister was so desperate to bury me, or why Adrien was suddenly willing to pay millions just to keep me trapped in his penthouse.
"Don't thank me,"
He whispered against my ear as he shielded my red silk dress from a spiteful attack at the Met Gala.
"This isn't charity, Aurora. You owe me."
As I caught him tracing a secret photo of me from years ago, I realized he hadn't saved me from the trap—he was the one who had built it. He Chose Power, I Chose Love
Modern I sacrificed my career as a violinist to save my fiancé, Graham, in a car crash that shattered my hand. For five years, I endured the pain and supported his political ambitions, believing in the future we planned to build around an old, historic theater.
That future ended when I overheard him with his campaign manager, Kassidy. He was selling our theater to fund his campaign, dismissing my sacrifice as a mere "distraction."
He called me a "drowned rat" one day, then posted a picture with Kassidy the next, captioned "#PowerCouple." He denied me money for a new physical therapy treatment, claiming the budget was tight, only to buy her an "exquisite" gift.
He called her his "best asset." I was just a liability.
My sacrifice wasn't an act of love to him; it was a "choice" I made that he now held over my head.
So on the night of his career-defining gala, when he thought I was at home waiting for him, I prepared my own opening night.
At the very theater he tried to steal from me. The Alpha's Regret: He Lost His Fated White Wolf
Werewolf I was drowning in the pool, chlorine burning my lungs, but my fated mate, Jax, swam right past me.
He scooped up Catalina, the swim team captain who was faking a cramp, and carried her to safety like she was made of glass.
When I dragged myself out, shivering and humiliated, Jax didn't offer a hand. Instead, he glared at me with cold hazel eyes.
"Stop acting like a victim, Eliana," he spat in front of the whole pack. "You're just jealous."
He was the Alpha Heir, and I was the unshifted failure. He broke our bond piece by piece, culminating at the sacred Moon Tree where he slashed through our carved initials to replace them with hers.
But the final blow wasn't emotional; it was lethal.
Catalina threw my car keys into a pond laced with Wolfsbane. As the poison paralyzed my limbs and I sank into the dark water, unable to breathe, I saw Jax standing on the bank.
"Stop playing games!" he shouted at the ripples.
He turned his back and walked away, leaving me to die.
I survived, but the girl who loved him didn't. I finally accepted the rejection he never had the guts to speak.
Jax thought I would crawl back in a week. He thought I was nothing without the pack's protection.
He was wrong.
I moved to New York and walked into a dance studio, right into the arms of a True Alpha named Daryl.
And when I finally shifted, I wasn't a weak Omega.
I was a White Wolf.
By the time Jax realized what he had thrown away, I was already a Queen. Contract Wife, Real Love
Romance The video was only fifteen seconds long: a male burlesque dancer, all glitter and bravado, tearing off his pants.
My finger slipped, and the screen flashed: Video sent to Liam.
Panic seized me, cold and immediate. Liam, my workaholic, rarely-home, contract husband, recipient of my perfectly-crafted façade.
I fumbled for my phone, desperately typing a lie: "Oh my god, Liam, you will not believe where Ashley dragged me tonight. I am so disgusted."
His reply came instantly: "Okay." Just "Okay." No questions, no suspicion. He bought it. My easy escape was secure.
But then, across the pulsing, chaotic nightclub, I saw him. Liam. He lifted his glass, his eyes dark and unwavering, a silent warning cutting through the noise.
My perfect, distant husband, who was supposed to be a continent away, was here, watching me. He knew.
The easy dance I had perfected–the detached, separate lives–was crumbling. The comfortable silence of our contract was shattered.
"Having fun?" he drawled, a glint in his eyes I' d never seen before, cutting through my desperate lie. "I see your friend finally convinced you to enjoy the \'decadent\' lifestyle."
He knew. He had known all along, and for some reason, he had played along. Why?
I watched him approach, towering over everyone, and for the first time, I felt a knot of fear and something else entirely-a thrill-because this wasn't part of the contract. This was real.
As I clung to his arm, playing the doting wife for his colleagues, every interaction felt charged with a new, unsettling current. This wasn't the escape I' d planned; it was something far more complicated.
The man I married for freedom was suddenly making me feel trapped, yet strangely, incredibly seen. Who was Liam Patterson, really? And why did his silent scrutiny feel more intimate than any embrace? Spirit Beast's Vengeance
Fantasy The pain hit me so hard it felt like my soul was being ripped out.
I was Jocelyn Fuller, wife of Ethan Blakely, living a quiet life rooted in Southern tradition, bound by an ancient pact to guard his family' s fortune through my sacred albino alligator.
Then, terror struck. My spirit beast, my very essence, was brutally killed – skinned, burned, leaving me collapsed and vomiting blood, feeling every agonizing second of its death through our shared bond.
My husband, Ethan, returned, not with remorse, but with rage, fueled by his "devout Christian" mistress, Maria, and her televangelist, Brother Rufus. He accused me, the woman who gave him everything, of barrenness and jealousy, publicly shaming me, ordering me whipped for a truth only I knew.
How could the man I loved, the man I saved from death three years ago using my very life force, believe such monstrous lies? How could he betray me so utterly, sacrificing the very source of his family's power and my own soulmate for a manipulative woman and her supposed "miracle child"?
As the whip descended, each lash shattering my skin, the ancient seal holding back my true power fractured, transforming passive pain into an earth-shattering roar of awakening. From Disgrace to State Champion
Modern For years, my life revolved around the track, every stride a step closer to a college scholarship, my only ticket out.
My younger sister, Molly, barely trained but somehow always beat me by a hair, basking in our parents' proud glances.
I pushed harder than anyone, bleeding on the track, only for her to effortlessly pull ahead, usually with a smug, "Didn't want to hurt your feelings."
But at the Regional Qualifiers, with college scouts watching, she took it too far.
Mid-race, she faked a stumble and pointed straight at me, yelling I had shoved her.
My own coach, convinced by the rumors she' d spread, disqualified me on the spot, erasing my dreams in one swift, heartbreaking blow.
My parents, who worshipped Molly, accused me of jealousy, of being a "sore loser," even as I stood there, utterly numb, my future crumbling.
How could someone who barely tried consistently beat me, then maliciously destroy my reputation and chances?
Why did everyone believe her effortless lies over my years of sacrifice?
Sitting on the cold floor of my room, staring at the wreckage of my life, I finally saw it: her success wasn't hers at all.
It was a parasite, feeding on my effort, my dreams.
And I realized, with chilling clarity, the only way out was to make the parasite eat itself alive. The Billionaire Heiress They Forgot
Modern My first life revolved around Ethan. I was Jennifer Johns, a simple waitress, utterly devoted to my charismatic husband, believing our love was enough.
Then came the phone call: a horrific multi-car pile-up. Ethan and his parents were supposedly killed. On his "deathbed," Ethan begged me to raise his infant "sister," Molly.
For twenty-five agonizing years, I kept that promise, sacrificing everything. Every cent, every double shift, every dream. I poured my soul into Molly, sending her to Ivy League, ensuring her success.
But at Molly' s promotion dinner, Ethan and his parents walked in, alive and well. Molly wasn't his sister; she was his illegitimate daughter groomed for success by me, her unwitting, free nanny. It was all a meticulously crafted lie, a cruel, elaborate scam.
Rage blinded me. I lunged, but Ethan shoved me down a flight of stairs. As darkness consumed me, the girl I loved like my own turned her back, embracing her real father.
Then my phone shrieked, jolting me awake. The calendar read October 12th. The day of the "accident." This time, I wouldn't be the fool. This time, I would write the ending. One Last Bet
Mafia The roar of the South Philly sports bar was music to my ears, the cheers for my "Oracle" predictions ringing hollow as I saw the smiling faces of my childhood friends.
Just one week from now, in a life I' d already lived, these same friends would lose everything on my predictions and leave me for dead in a dirty alley.
They' d blame me, screaming King K, the flashy influencer, had called it an hour before I did, beating me until I stopped moving.
Now they pressed me for more "sure things," their greed a mask over the rage I knew was coming, their loyalty as thin as their winnings.
Then my Uncle Leo, the only family I had, intervened, pulling the "exhausted niece" card, a gesture that filled me with relief, even as I felt a pang of guilt for my coldness.
But relief turned to dread when he revealed his "heart condition" and a staggering medical bill, claiming he' d lost all our savings on a "bad tip"-a lie designed to force one last, massive prediction from me.
The betrayal of my previous life faded into the background, eclipsed by the desperate reality of his illness, trapping me into playing the Oracle again.
I poured my soul into the data, finding a perfect, obscure rookie bet, only to see King K post the exact same pick minutes later, confirming a sickening truth: Uncle Leo was leaking my intel.
My blood ran cold when I found the unique Eagles watch I' d given my uncle on King K' s wrist in an old photo, realizing my uncle was not only feeding my analysis to his secret boyfriend but was systematically destroying my reputation to build King K' s brand.
The pieces clicked: it was always planned.
But this time, I was ready.
I cashed out my winning soccer bets (which King K had predictably tried to steal credit for, missing my trap bet entirely), and used every dime on one final, impossible gamble: the "unbeatable" NFL team would lose after their star quarterback suffered a season-ending injury in the first quarter-an event I remembered with horrifying clarity from my past life.
I packed a bag, ready to watch King K, Uncle Leo, and every single soul who had called me a fraud, who had plotted my demise, lose everything and face the loan sharks I knew would be coming. You might like
Rejected by My Family, Claimed by the Galactic Commander
EVA PINK I woke up to the stench of rust and rotting flesh, no longer a master botanist who commanded life itself, but a D-class exile dumped on a wasteland planet.
Memories that weren't mine flooded in. I was framed by my stepsister, betrayed by my fiancé, and banished by my own family to the Ashfall Peninsula to die.
The original girl actually starved to death in despair. The moment I opened my eyes, a scavenger tried to smash my skull with a rusty pipe just to eat me. After I killed him to survive, I discovered a harsher truth: in this universe, plant seeds are classified as A-level strategic resources, completely monopolized by the Imperium.
But the universe had a sick sense of humor. A mandatory background scan suddenly triggered a galactic broadcast: I, the exiled trash, was a perfect genetic match for the Imperium's top war hero, General Alexander Orr.
The family that ruthlessly erased my existence instantly saw me as a golden ticket. My cheating ex-fiancé was dispatched to drag me back, furious that his "property" was matched with someone else. They all thought I was still that weak, naive girl they could manipulate.
But as I held the pure, glowing Life Source Crystals I had secretly extracted from the scrap heap, a cold smile crept onto my face.
"I didn't come here to die. I came here to build an empire."
I turned my back on the galactic broadcast and stepped into the deadly wilderness. Rejected Bride: Married To The Dragon King
Catlaina Sloggett I knelt on the cold stone of the Dragon God Altar, waiting to marry Lord Harper Carney. It was my only chance to escape the gilded cage of my family.
But when Harper finally arrived, he wasn't alone. His arm was wrapped tightly around my cousin, Hettie.
Right in front of the entire court, he coldly announced that our marriage was a mistake.
Hettie leaned into his embrace, wearing a triumphant smile while playing the innocent victim.
The assembled nobles openly jeered at me. They mocked my greatest failing—that I was a worthless "Dragonless" born without the inner fire.
My own father was furious, not at them, but at me. He demanded I go to Hettie's estate and beg for her forgiveness.
When I refused, he threatened to cut off all my funds and revoke my only job at the Royal Scribes' Office.
I was publicly abandoned, stripped of my dignity, and left with absolutely nothing.
I didn't cry, and I didn't scream. Why should I be the one to apologize when they were the ones who betrayed me?
For years, I had endured their abuse, treated like a pawn to be sacrificed at will. But looking at their smug faces, my despair turned into cold resolve.
I took off my betrothal coronet and dropped it at Harper's feet, publicly nullifying the contract myself.
I thought I would have to face the ruin alone, until a mysterious, powerful man with burning golden eyes stepped out of the shadows.
"Marry me," he said. "I will be your shield, and we will crush them together." Betrayed Bride: I Married My Ex's Comatose Uncle, the Dragon Lord
Ben Nan On my wedding day, I caught my fiancé in my stepsister's arms.
She was pregnant with his child.
And instead of begging for forgiveness, Damian Harrison laughed in my face.
He admitted he had always planned to marry me, dump me in some forgotten country estate, and keep my stepsister as the woman he truly loved.
So I burned my wedding veil in front of the entire Harrison family and walked away.
That should have been the end of it.
Instead, Damian's mother sent armed men after me.
Why?
Because I was a Dragonless nobody from the borderlands, and in her eyes, humiliating a Harrison was a crime worse than her son's betrayal.
I had no dragon blood.
No powerful family willing to protect me.
Not even my own father would risk offending the Harrisons for my sake.
If I wanted to survive, I needed someone they feared more than they hated me.
So I returned to the Harrison estate and made an outrageous demand.
I would marry Damian's uncle.
Gideon Harrison-the legendary Dragon Lord, the kingdom's greatest war hero... and a man everyone believed was dead.
Perfect.
As his widow, I would outrank the man who betrayed me, become his aunt by marriage, and gain enough power to make every Harrison who humiliated me regret it.
I signed the marriage pact without hesitation.
Then a knight burst into the ancestral hall with impossible news.
Gideon Harrison was alive.
My dead husband wasn't dead.
He was being brought home. Chaotic Affinity: A Rebirth Magic Academy Romance
Qijia Lady I took a blood-binding curse to save my younger sister Danae, ruining my magic affinity forever.
Instead of gratitude, she stole our mother's token and convinced our father to dump me at a school for magical rejects.
In my past life, I actually believed her sweet lies. I thought she was shielding me from the cruel aristocratic academies.
I went to that unfashionable boarding school, only to be ground into dust by rogue curses and treated like garbage.
Meanwhile, she lived in a palace, surrounded by devoted admirers and endless luxury.
When I was finally dragged to the execution pyre, my own father and sister stood in the high stands, watching me burn alive with cold satisfaction.
I died screaming in agony, clawing at my scorched skin, utterly betrayed by the family I had bled for.
Until the flames consumed me, I didn't understand. Why did the sister I sacrificed everything for want me dead?
Why was my devotion rewarded with a fiery grave?
Opening my eyes again, I was back on the very morning of my departure to that trash magic school.
Danae walked into my room with a warm mug of milk, a razor-thin smear of satisfaction flashing across her lips.
She thought she was the only one who had returned to the past.
"Sister, you look terrible. Did you have that nightmare again?"
This time, I will gladly take the train to the school of rejects.
Not to hide in shame, but to build an altar of bone and ruin out of everyone who burned me alive. The Godblood Bride: Mending the Cursed Dragon Lord
Maui I was forced to replace my sister and marry Lord Gideon Carlisle, a crippled Dragon Lord rumored to be a monster whose brides always ended up dead.
But the real danger wasn't my terrifying husband. It was Audrey, the fragile, innocent girl he took in and fiercely protected.
She lured me to a cliff, confessed to murdering his first two brides, and tried to shove me into the abyss.
When her clumsy attack failed and she nearly fell herself, Gideon's shadow guard rushed in to save her. But he only saw the aftermath.
Audrey immediately burst into tears, pointing a shaking finger at me.
"It was her! She pushed me! She tried to kill me!"
Without hesitation, Gideon chose to believe his precious ward.
He looked at me with cold, golden dragon eyes, condemning his own wife without a trial.
He threatened me with dragon's flame and locked me in my chambers, while Audrey smiled triumphantly behind his back.
I couldn't believe a supposedly brilliant Dragon Lord could be so utterly blind, protecting the very monster who had cursed his life while treating me like the villain.
But I wasn't the weak, original bride who would just accept this injustice and die quietly.
I calmly walked back into his study, pulled out a vial of Truth Serum, and forced it down Audrey's throat so my blind husband could finally hear the truth. Betrayed Bride: Proposing To The Dragon Lord
Alfred I was the adopted, "Dragonless" daughter of the Sterling family, bound by a prestigious marriage contract to my fiancé, Julian.
But during the annual charity ball, I followed a secret note to a guest suite, only to catch him tangled on the sofa with my cousin, Isabelle.
When I calmly called the Dragon Guard to expose their affair, my adoptive parents didn't comfort me. Instead, they furiously blamed me.
"It was an emergency! Our kind Isabelle used her scent to save him, and you just tried to destroy him!"
They praised her as a hero, officially handed my fiancé over to her, and decided to punish me for tarnishing the family name.
Their revenge was a new marriage contract. They were going to sell me off to Lord Valerius, a cruel, elderly man notorious for outliving three wives.
I stared at the death sentence in my hands, my blood running cold. I was the one betrayed, yet I was being discarded like useless trash to pave the way for my cousin's happiness.
Why should I let them destroy my life just to protect their twisted, perfect image?
I didn't cry, and I refused to be their sacrificial lamb.
I drafted a cold, calculated business proposal, packed my bags, and walked out of that toxic house forever.
I was going to propose to the most ruthless, powerful predator in the kingdom-Gideon Montgomery.
If I had to step into a dragon's lair, I would be the one to choose it. Mated To My Ex's Dead Brother
Zhao Da My engagement to Kile, the heir of House Golden, was witnessed by the Duke himself. I thought my days as a helpless orphan were over.
But right before our wedding, he coldly informed me that my status was being revoked. I was to enter his family as a lesser consort.
The title of primary wife was being given to his lover, Journey. She hid behind Kile, wearing a spotless white dress and trembling like a fragile lotus.
"Cassie, please don't blame him, I can live without a title," she cried, playing the perfect victim.
Kile shielded her, glaring at me with pure disgust, shouting that I was being completely unreasonable.
The next day, the entire Elder Council cornered me in their grand hall. They told me that as a "Dragonless" nobody, I should be immensely grateful for any scrap they threw my way.
They all stared at me, waiting for me to swallow my pride and accept a lifetime of humiliation.
They thought I was entirely broken. They thought I had no backing and no choice but to bow down to their cruelty.
Instead, I looked straight at the Chief Elder and smiled.
"I refuse to be a lesser consort," I announced clearly, watching Kile's smug expression freeze. "But to preserve our families' dignity, I will fulfill the contract."
I looked right into Kile's shocked eyes.
"I will marry your dead older brother, Lord Ayden." The "Magicless" Blood Bag Is The Supreme Mage
Shu Yu For four years, I lived as the adopted orphan of the noble Hayes family, treated as nothing more than a living blood bag for my sister, Yvonne.
They claimed Yvonne was dying and needed my core essence to survive. In reality, she was entirely healthy, suffering only the backfire of an illegal ritual used to steal my pureblood vitality.
While Yvonne played the fragile, weeping victim on her silk bed, my adoptive mother drove silver needles deep into my veins.
Everyone in the house praised Yvonne's angelic nature and sneered at me as an ungrateful, magicless stray.
When I finally refused to be their livestock, they launched a massive smear campaign in the national newspaper.
"She is a jealous monster who deliberately abandoned her dying sister," the headlines screamed.
They assumed a penniless, anemic girl with no backing would quickly crawl back to their door, begging for table scraps and offering up her veins again.
They had no idea who was actually walking in this starved body now.
The memories of Nyx, the elite Chief Enforcer of the Magic Council, had just awakened within my fragile shell.
I calmly ripped the extraction needle from my flesh and went straight to the Registry to burn our magical adoption contract to ashes.
They wanted to destroy my reputation and drain me dry?
I would build my own empire and collect every single ounce of stolen blood back from them. With interest. Flash Marriage To My Mysterious Disabled Husband
rabb For five years, I poured my blood and sweat into restoring ancient manuscripts to save my fiancé Chalmers's family business from bankruptcy.
But on the morning of our wedding, he abandoned me at the altar.
He rushed off to comfort his childhood friend, Edla, who claimed to have a catastrophic injury. Under local guild laws, if I wasn't legally married by sunset, Chalmers's family would seize the proprietary rights to every single manuscript I had restored.
When I went home to pack my things, Edla showed up leaning on Chalmers, wearing bandages stained with fake bakery dye and a luxury sweater that still had the anti-theft tag attached.
She cried theatrical tears, begging me not to punish Chalmers.
Instead of seeing her obvious lies, Chalmers called me a heartless, spiteful statue. He demanded I apologize, arrogantly offering a cheap steak dinner as compensation for my ruined wedding.
He sneered that no man in town would ever marry a penniless orphan like me, and I would be begging on his doorstep by the end of the week.
I looked at the man I had supported through 47 of Edla's orchestrated emergencies, feeling utterly disgusted by his endless manipulation and greed.
Did he really think my dignity and my life's work were worth so little?
I threw his cheap engagement ring directly into the greasy trash can.
Then, I walked straight into the municipal registry hall and proposed to Everette Holmes—a paralyzed, debt-ridden outcast who radiated an unnerving, freezing aura.
This time, I would rather tie my fate to a dangerous stranger than let Chalmers own my future. 
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