Tangye Wanzi
19 Published Stories
Tangye Wanzi's Books and Stories
Traveling to ancient tribes to build infrastructure
Fantasy I woke up with a splitting headache, only to realize I had transmigrated into the body of a fragile rodent-variant female in a brutal, mutated wasteland.
Before I could even process my new reality, I was shoved into a mandatory pairing auction. The guards gave me exactly ten seconds to find a partner, or I would be sent to the deadly border patrol squads as cannon fodder. Three massive, heavily scarred mutants with greedy eyes immediately locked onto me, ready to claim me as their plaything.
Desperate for a legal shield, I scrambled away from the brutes and made a shocking choice. I walked straight up to the one person everyone else was avoiding like the plague-a sickly, pale man coughing up dark red blood in the corner.
"Partner up. I need a shield, you need a caretaker."
When the guard registered our names, the entire square erupted in open mockery. The chieftain even warned me that my new partner was poisoned, a dead man walking who couldn't hunt or protect me. In their eyes, a weakling and a dying man were nothing but a joke, doomed to freeze or starve.
But the jeering crowd didn't know two things. First, I possessed a wealth of old-world survival knowledge. Second, the fragile man sleeping on my stone bed wasn't just a dying invalid. Why would an elite silver wolf warrior with terrifying, suppressed power hide among the lowest of the low?
I didn't care about his secrets. Looking at the barren dirt behind our rundown shelter, I handed him a stone hoe. While the rest of the camp waited for us to die, we were going to build an impenetrable underground fortress. Married My Ex‑Fiancé's Greatest Nemesis
Romance For six years, Anastasia lived as the obedient, traumatized fiancée of Juston Cross, relying on his wealthy family after a fire destroyed her own.
But during a high-society gathering, Juston publicly humiliated her just to make his mistress, Chanel, smile. Then, he dragged Anastasia away and made an absurd demand.
He ordered her to marry another man.
"Chanel's family is forcing her to marry Ennis Sharpe, and it would destroy her. You marry him instead. It's a fake marriage so Chanel can be free."
Juston commanded her coldly, reminding her that she would be dead in the gutter if his family hadn't taken her in. He expected her to obediently act as a human shield for his true love, arrogantly promising he would take her back once the dust settled.
Looking at the man she had devoted herself to, Anastasia finally saw the grotesque truth. Six years of enduring his emotional abuse were a joke. She was just a pathetic charity case to be used and discarded.
Instead of crying or begging, Anastasia calmly agreed to his plan.
She walked straight to Ennis Sharpe-the dangerous, powerful heir, and the only man whose mere touch miraculously cured her crippling panic attacks.
"I need a legal husband, and you need a wife. It's a fair trade."
She didn't just want an escape. She was going to become Mrs. Sharpe, partner with the enemy, and make the Cross family pay for everything they stole. My Terminal Diagnosis, His Cruel Divorce
Romance I hid my terminal stomach cancer diagnosis, hoping to spend my last six months with my husband, Gerard.
But the moment I stepped into our penthouse, he threw a divorce agreement at my feet.
"We are ending this marriage. Kena is waiting for me."
He said his first love had returned, and he had no time to play games with me anymore.
Over the next few days, he watched me vomit violently, coldly accusing me of faking a pregnancy to secure a massive payout.
When his own grandfather suffered a massive heart attack upon discovering his public affair, we rushed the old man to the emergency room.
But Gerard didn't stay for the surgery.
Kena showed up in a wheelchair, crying about a mild chest pain, and he immediately turned his back on his dying grandfather and me to comfort her.
I had loved this man in secret for thirteen years.
I even saved him from a rival's drug trap just nights ago, giving my failing body to him in a dark hotel room to protect his reputation.
Yet, to him, I was nothing but a greedy, calculating transaction standing in the way of his true love.
Watching him walk away to hold another woman while the surgery light flashed red, the thirteen years of desperate love inside me finally shattered.
I calmly wiped his grandfather's blood from my hands and turned around.
This time, I will sign the papers and disappear from his life forever. He Found My Worth, Unlike Them
Modern For three years, I was the unpaid maid, cook, and accountant for my boyfriend Kieran's family. His mother, Jeanie, never let me forget my place. "You're not legally family," she'd say, whenever I asked for basic respect.
Then I found the messages on his phone. He and Jeanie were arranging his engagement to Carolina Farley, a wealthy heiress. They called me a placeholder—someone who was just "around" until a better option came along.
Jeanie sat me down and told me it was time to leave, confident I had nowhere else to go.
She was wrong.
While they slept, I earned my CPA license. While they spent, I saved every dollar. While they dismissed me as "just the girlfriend," I bought my own condo.
When Kieran finally came crawling back, begging for another chance, I had one thing to say:
"I'm already married. To a man who didn't need three years to know my worth."
He thought I'd wait forever.
He thought wrong. One Night With The Wrong Brother
Modern I thought I was waking up in the arms of Arthur, the man I loved. But as the morning light hit the Hamptons estate, the man buttoning his cuffs by the window turned around with eyes like chips of ice. It was Augustus Riddle, Arthur’s cruel younger brother, and I had just spent the night whispering confessions of love into the wrong man's ear.
The night I thought was a beautiful beginning turned into a devastating nightmare. Instead of comfort, Gus treated me like a stain on his expensive carpet, scribbling a check for "services rendered" before shoving me into a dark service corridor to hide my existence from his brother.
"How much does it cost to buy your silence?"
He sneered, before leaving me barefoot in a torrential downpour while he drove away in a luxury Cadillac. Four years later, I am a struggling actress in Los Angeles, working double shifts as a barista just to keep the lights on. My life was finally stable until my roommate dragged me to a high-end dinner to meet her new "influential" boyfriend. The man sitting at the table, looking more arrogant and lethal than ever, was Augustus.
He spent the entire night humiliating me, calling me a pathetic amateur and a social climber in front of my only friends. When I fled into the rain and collapsed on the sidewalk, skinning my knee until I bled, he watched from his car. He saw me clutching a plastic baggie containing the taped-together pieces of that four-year-old check—the only proof of my shame. He looked at me like roadkill, rolled up his window, and drove off into the dark.
I couldn't understand why he was doing this. Why did he hate me enough to crush me, yet remember that I couldn't handle the smell of cigarette smoke? Why did he leave me bleeding in the street, only to send expensive medical supplies and coffee to my door the very next morning?
"I'm moving out."
I told my roommates, realizing that Gus Riddle didn't just want to destroy me; he wanted to haunt me. I grabbed my suitcase and walked out with eighty dollars to my name, finally ready to disappear into the city before he could burn the rest of my life to the ground. Just A Placeholder: Dying For His Mistress
Mafia I stood on the tarmac clutching white magnolias, watching the man I loved hand his loyalty to the woman born to destroy me.
Dante Cavallaro, the Ruthless Underboss, didn't just leave me for Sofia Moretti.
He revealed that for two years, I wasn't his lover. I was a human shield.
The heavy iron bangle he forced me to wear wasn't a gift for my protection.
"It's a Malocchio anchor," he sneered as I lay paralyzed on the floor. "It drains the wearer's luck to keep Sofia healthy. You are just the filter."
My body began to rot from the inside out, my nerves dying one by one.
When I was finally on my deathbed, unable to move or speak, Dante didn't cry for me.
He cried because his tool was broken.
He forced the cursed bangle onto his own wrist, begging the universe to keep me alive so I could continue to suffer in Sofia's place.
"Please," he sobbed into my sheets. "Don't leave me alone with the bad luck."
I used my last breath to make a wish—not for him, but for my freedom.
I closed my eyes and died.
Exactly one hour later, Dante's phone rang.
It was his father.
"Sofia just collapsed," he said. "Her heart just stopped."
I was the vessel.
And now that I was gone, the poison had come home to the King. Breaking The Cage: The Mafia Wife's Revenge
Mafia I was smoothing the red silk of my dress over a baby bump only I knew existed, preparing to tell my husband, the ruthless King of Chicago, that he was finally going to be a father.
But before I could share the news, the ballroom fell silent.
A woman walked in wearing a gold dress that was barely legal. It was Serena, the woman from the photos I had received just hours ago. She walked right up to us and handed Michael a silver tie clip.
"You left this in the suite, Michael," she purred in front of the entire city's elite.
When I demanded she leave, she smirked and threw her glass of red wine all over me. The liquid soaked into my dress, looking like a gunshot wound right over my womb.
I waited for Michael to defend me. To throw her out.
Instead, he looked at the crowd, terrified of a scandal.
"Don't make a scene, Liv," he hissed, his eyes cold. "Go upstairs and change. I'll handle this."
He turned his back on me and walked away with his mistress, leaving me dripping in crimson and humiliation.
My mother found me sobbing in the bedroom and slapped me sober.
"Tears are for the weak," she said. "Tonight, Michael Thorne loses everything."
We froze his assets. We destroyed his reputation. But that wasn't enough. I wanted to break his soul.
I looked down at my stomach. I would protect this child, but his father would never know he existed.
"Tell him I lost the baby," I whispered to the butler, my voice trembling with rage.
"Tell him the stress caused a miscarriage. Tell him he killed his heir."
Tonight, the golden cage opens. And Michael Thorne is about to find out that even a canary has claws. Too Late For Regret: The Mafia King's Runaway
Mafia I watched my husband, the most feared Capo in New York, sign away our marriage with the same cold indifference he usually reserved for ordering a hit.
The nib of his Montblanc pen scratched against the paper, drowning out the rain hitting the coffee shop window.
He didn't bother to read a single word.
He thought he was signing routine shipping manifests for the family business.
In reality, he was signing the "Dissolution of Union" papers I had hidden beneath the cover sheet.
He was too distracted to check. His eyes were glued to his encrypted phone, frantically texting Sofia—the widow, the tragic beauty, the woman who had haunted our marriage for three years.
"Done," he grunted, tossing the stack into his armored SUV without even glancing at me.
"Business is concluded, Elena. We leave."
Moments later, his phone rang with her special emergency tone.
His demeanor shifted from cold boss to frantic protector instantly.
"Driver, divert. She needs me," he roared.
He looked at me with zero affection and ordered, "Get out, Elena. Luca will take you home."
He kicked me out of the car into the pouring rain to rush to his mistress, completely unaware he had just legally granted me my freedom.
I stood on the curb, shivering but smiling for the first time in years.
By the time the Don realizes he just signed his own divorce, I will be a ghost in San Francisco.
And he will have nothing left but his shipping logs and his regret. Escaping His Cage: The Phoenix Wife Returns
Modern Two minutes before midnight on the eve of my wedding, my phone buzzed.
I expected a sweet text from my groom, Liam.
Instead, I received a photo of him with his lips inches from another woman's neck.
The caption read:
"He's celebrating his last night of freedom. Are you sure you want to be the jailer?"
I didn't scream. I didn't cancel the wedding.
I walked down the aisle the next morning and looked at his handsome face.
I saw the scratch on his wrist—a souvenir from his mistress, Ava.
Later, I overheard him tell his best man that I was just the "safe bet," a boring broodmare to provide an heir while he had fun with her.
He thought I was a naive girl who believed in fairy tales.
He thought he had secured his perfect life when I said, "I do."
But he was wrong.
When I discovered I was pregnant a few days later, I didn't celebrate.
I realized this baby wasn't a blessing; it was a lock on my cage.
Liam wanted a dynasty? He wanted a legacy?
I looked at the positive test in my hand and made a cold, hard choice.
I wasn't going to just leave him.
I was going to destroy him.
I wiped my tears, packed my documents, and prepared to burn his entire world to ash.
The war had just begun. When Love Became A Lie
Romance The wedding dress, a Parisian dream, hung ready. My guardian, Daniel Hayes, the man stepping into the role of my husband in three weeks, surveyed me with possessive eyes. Everything was perfect, almost too perfect for the girl who lost her parents and world in a fire, only to be taken in by a generous "uncle."
Then, his phone buzzed. A name popped up: "Sarah." And beneath it, a picture of a smiling woman and a small boy grinning at the camera, with a message: "Kev and I are waiting. Don't be late." My perfectly constructed world began to crack.
He admitted it-Sarah was his fiancée ten years ago, before she left him. I was merely a "substitute," a convenient look-alike to fill the void she left. His affection, his care, our shared love-all a calculated lie. Then, an anonymous email confirmed my worst fears: he was still seeing her, even now, on the eve of our wedding.
"You're a monster," I told him, tears streaming down my face. He just stared, unmoved, his voice like ice: "The wedding will go on as planned, Olivia. You will not embarrass me." He wanted me to be a dutiful wife, a pawn in his twisted game.
The pre-wedding gala was a public humiliation. Sarah appeared, triumphant, with her son. Daniel, caught between us, didn't defend me. He paraded me before the woman he truly desired. It wasn't just betrayal; it was torture. And then came the ultimate blow: he hit me, in front of them, leading to the devastating loss of our unborn child.
Lying in the hospital, my heart hollow, I let him believe his feigned remorse. He wanted to "make it right," to "send them away." He thought he still had me, the forgiving, wounded woman. But the girl who loved him had died in that studio, with our child. A new plan, cold and sharp, began to form in the hollow space where my heart used to be. His Reckoning, Her Triumph
Romance Six years. That' s how long it had been since Mark Johnson chose to walk away, leaving me to face my family' s ruin alone.
Now he stood in my apartment, polished and powerful, fully expecting to find me broken and waiting for him.
Instead, I was sprawled on a worn sofa, cradling my sleeping baby, Liam.
Mark' s perfectly sculpted face twisted in disbelief, then disgust, as he laid eyes on my son.
"Whose is that?" he spat, then, eyeing my faded clothes and humble home, added, "I mean, who' s the father? Have you no shame?"
He offered to take me back as his mistress and "find a good family" for Liam, as if my child were dispensable cargo.
Then he grabbed my arm, revealing an ugly, jagged scar on my forearm-a relic from the "halfway house" he' d sent me to.
Chloe, my stepsister, ever the innocent puppet master, smoothly deflected his concern, painting me as a reckless delinquent.
It worked. Any flicker of understanding in Mark' s eyes hardened into contempt.
"You' ve become something ugly, Ava," he told me, letting go as if I were contaminating.
I knew he wasn' t disappointed in himself, only in me for not suffering prettily.
He lunged for my throat, then for Liam, snarling that my son's absence might "make me see reason."
Just as despair choked me, the door crashed open.
"Get your hands off of them."
Jake Stone, my friend, my partner, my savior, stepped into the room, his presence a shield.
He took Liam, comforting him before turning to Mark, his voice calm but lethal.
"I'm the man who's here now," he stated. "And I'm telling you to get out."
I stood beside Jake, tears drying, my voice clear.
"You left me to rot for six years. Jake was the one who pulled me from the wreckage. He' s more of a man than you will ever be." Love's Grave: A Final Sacrifice
Horror The shovel struck the dirt above me.
A dull, wet thud.
It was my grave, and I was floating above it, watching.
My ex-girlfriend, Ava, was there, livestreaming to thousands.
"We're doing this for Liam," she announced, her voice tight with artificial conviction.
Beside her, my former best friend, Liam Davis, grunted, driving the shovel deeper.
He was performing, for Ava, for the camera, for the lies he' d spun for five years about me haunting him.
Then, he unearthed my pine coffin.
The crowbar pried it open, revealing the horrific claw marks-my claw marks-inside the lid.
But also, my diary.
Ava, pale and trembling, pulled it from the mud.
She began to read my words, words that told of my love for her, of Liam's escalating cruelty, not mine.
Yet, she still clung to his narrative, selectively reading to justify her actions.
He' d almost poisoned me.
He tried to murder me.
The truth, stark and undeniable, spilled from the pages.
Then, my mother arrived.
She didn't just expose Liam's lies about an old fight; she revealed a truth that shattered Ava' s world: I was going to donate my kidney to save her life.
The man she' d desecrated, the monster she' d paraded online, was her silent savior.
Struck by a blinding guilt, Ava unearthed the diary's final, blood-stained entry.
My last words.
"Ava. Liam did this. I love yo-"
Unfinished.
The truth was absolute: Liam had not only framed me, he had buried me alive.
A raw scream tore from Ava' s throat.
The tears that followed were years too late, but they ignited a terrifying purpose.
She would make him pay. He Lied, I Thrived Anyway
Romance My relationship with Liam was a twenty-year slow burn, a homecoming everyone called perfect and meant to be.
Then, scrolling through my phone one Tuesday night, an anonymous post on a local gossip forum shattered that illusion.
It was a gushing narrative from a girl named Olivia, detailing secret meetings and gifts from a business school charmer-the same limited-edition sneakers I' d seen Liam coveting, the ones he told me were sold out.
Beneath it, a comment read, "He even lied to his clingy childhood friend 'girlfriend' that they were sold out just so he could surprise me. He says he\'s only with her because his parents like her."
Clingy childhood friend. The words felt like a punch, blurring my vision. My heart raced as I dialed Liam, his warm greeting a stark contrast to the betrayal I' d uncovered.
He lied about the sneakers, easily, poorly, confirming my worst fears.
His flimsy denial crumbled when I confronted him with Olivia' s account, his "nervous edge" a stark contrast to my unwavering fury.
My best friend Maya' s warning echoed: "I don\'t trust him, Chloe. The way he was looking at her... it wasn\'t friendly." How stupid I felt for defending him.
Then, the final blow: Olivia' s public profile, a cascade of photos-his hand in hers, his familiar smile reserved for her, captioned "My one and only. Soon the whole world will know." Posted just an hour ago.
The heartbreak was physical, but beneath it, a cold, sharp anger stirred. This wasn't a misunderstanding; it was a cruel, deliberate deception.
I hung up, no more lies needed, meeting my own clear gaze in the dark phone screen. I was no longer just a heartbroken girl; I was a girl who had been played for a fool, and I would not let him get away with it. Liam's Shadow, Chloe's Lie
Romance The "True Harmony" system was perfect, a monument to the future I, Ethan Miller, was eager to build with Chloe, my fiancée of a decade. Our wedding, a meticulously planned extravagance, was just one week away, a celebration of the life we'd spent years creating.
Then, she walked into my study, and in a soft, flat voice, delivered words that detonated my entire world: "I can't marry you next week. I have to marry Liam first."
Liam. Her stepbrother. The man she confusingly called her "first love," now demanding she fulfill his deceased mother's "dying wish" for her to settle him. My shock curdled as she explained it was "just a formality" – she'd marry him, then divorce him, for "filial piety." My life, our future, reduced to a mere inconvenience.
The insult deepened when she asked for a "dowry" – a few million dollars for Liam. I was not her partner; I was her bank, and Liam, the beneficiary. When her fabricated apologies came, they were delivered with Liam's leftovers, the subtle taunt a final blow. What was this absurd wish, this sudden, desperate need that obliterated our years together? How could the woman I loved so easily betray and humiliate me for a man who seemed to be nothing but a perpetual burden?
My initial shock hardened into cold resolve. If Chloe, the supposed woman of my dreams, prioritized a con artist over me, then my answer was simple: "I need a new bride." Cursed by My Best Friend
Horror Savannah stood at my desk, her smile unsettlingly bright, holding a tiny antique bottle.
"For you, Chloe," she purred, her voice dripping with fake sweetness, "a special family recipe for good fortune."
But a chill ran down my spine the moment I saw it.
The bottle. The smell. The lie. It all came flooding back with agonizing clarity.
I remembered the grotesque rash, worse than any psoriasis, erupting across my skin.
It was red, raw, and it smelled like rotting meat, coarse black hair sprouting from inflamed patches.
Doctors were confused, their creams useless.
My own reflection became a monster.
Ethan, my boyfriend and boss, looked at me with disgust before abandoning me for good.
I was fired from the job I loved, my career turning to ash.
I died alone in my apartment, ostracized and broken, the foul reek of my own decaying flesh my final breath.
Then I remembered the truth I learned after death: It wasn't a disease.
It was a vicious Hoodoo curse, a 'crossing' fed by that very essential oil.
A "gift" from my best friend, Savannah.
She wanted my job, my beauty, my entire life.
And she took it all.
But now, I was back.
My skin was clear, my body whole.
I had a second chance.
And this time, she wouldn't win. The Wedding That Wasn't
Romance Victoria Hayes, heiress of the New York Hayes family, was poised to marry Ethan Miller.
For four years, I' d meticulously molded him from a broke university kid into a successful entrepreneur.
He was my creation, meant to be a living echo of Julian Vance, my first love, tragically lost.
But on the eve of our wedding, a chilling overheard conversation shattered my perfectly constructed world.
I discovered Ethan, his pathologically obsessive ex Chloe, and even his family, were plotting my public humiliation at the altar.
His whispered "Alright. I'll do it" twisted my stomach, revealing the man I' d idealized was a cheap, cruel fake.
He later abandoned me during a fire alarm, grabbing Chloe first, leaving me trampled and injured.
I overheard him confess he "despised" me, viewing me only as a controlling ATM.
The agonizing pain wasn't for him, but for my wasted years and his utter contempt.
How could I have been so foolish, investing so much in such a calculating fraud?
I wasn't a victim; I was furious, utterly betrayed, and finally, free.
My illusion shattered, my resolve hardened, and I calmly called my mother: "Cancel the wedding. I'm coming to London."
Tomorrow, I' d depart, not as a jilted bride, but as the architect of his public downfall.
My path now clear, I was ready for a new life unfettered by shadows or substitutes. My Gift, His Curse: A Spectral Reckoning
Xuanhuan I'm Anya, and I see ghosts-a family gift that's always been a curse, until I found fragile peace at Serenity Glen, learning to manage my powers and appease the vengeful ghost, the Lady in Gray, who was finally nearing her eternal rest.
That fragile peace shattered the day I saved tech mogul Ethan Cole from death, exacting a vow of unwavering loyalty only for him to spend seven years flaunting an affair and dismissing me as "too mystical."
His betrayal escalated into a calculated torment: desecrating my home, stealing my protective amulet, orchestrating the demolition of Serenity Glen-my sanctuary-and even murdering my mentor, Elijah, all while forcing me into torturous blood transfusions for his mistress and secretly planning to abort my unborn child.
My world crumbled as I learned his "near-death" was a setup from the start, a manipulative ploy to exploit my spiritual connections, and Elijah's death wasn't an accident but planned murder, leaving me reeling from a betrayal so profound it defied comprehension.
As his mistress, Tiffany, revealed his full deceit and then spitefully destroyed my last sacred defense-my moonstone pendant-a primal rage erupted within me, unleashing a force far older and more vengeful than I could control, ensuring that the price of Ethan's betrayal would finally be paid. My Life, My Rules
Romance "Voices." That’s how I found Ethan a year ago, online, his deep, calm tones a warm blanket over my introverted self. Today, after months of online chats, my boyfriend was finally coming to meet me in person. My stomach churned with a nervous, hopeful excitement.
But then, as if a glitch in my reality, a transparent social media feed flickered into my vision, comments scrolling relentlessly. "LOL, 'vet him.' She means 'steal him.'" "Main Character Brit about to secure the love interest! Sarah who?" They were mocking me, predicting my popular, effortlessly charming roommate, Brit, would steal Ethan. "Girl, this ain't a hallucination. This is the script. You're watching your life's reality show."
My excitement shattered. Brit, always the queen to my lady-in-waiting, played her part perfectly, offering syrupy "concern" to check out my "online guy," later even faking an ankle injury just to get Ethan alone. Each comment from "The Feed," each calculated move from Brit, amplified my deepest fear: I was just an average side character, destined to be replaced.
Was this my inevitable fate? To watch my love story unfold as a footnote in someone else’s drama? The injustice of it all, this pre-written "script" I was supposed to follow, sparked a cold, determined anger deep within me.
No. This was *my* life. And I refused to be a stepping stone. I would not be the loser side character. I would fight for him, fighting back with every clever text, every subtle move to reclaim control, even a strategic lie, to ensure I wrote my own script. CEO's Aloof Wife: Where Your Love Lies
Romance As an outcome of a conspiracy, Stacie was forced to marry Andrew. On their wedding night, her husband warned her to never reveal their marriage to the world. At home, they would be a couple, but in public, they would be complete strangers. Thus, she ended up becoming his secret wife.
Any time she was in trouble, he would stand up for her and protect her, which warmed her heart. And just when she started to think that he loved her, he destroyed her fantasy. When news about their marriage came out accidentally, he mercilessly handed her the divorce agreement. At that moment, she knew. She knew that he had married her for her hundred billion legacies. 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." Burned by My Fiancé, Reborn to Rule the Dragon Court
Fading Signal I gave Kaelen Sterling everything.
My fortune. My family's trust. Even the military secrets that should never have left my father's hands.
He swore he loved me.
Then he used me to destroy my entire family.
My father was beheaded for treason. My brothers died on the battlefield. My sick mother coughed up blood until her final breath. And the fortune my mother had saved for me became the stepping stone Kaelen and his precious "savior," Jacqueline Byrd, used to climb into the highest circles of the kingdom.
When there was nothing left to steal, Kaelen locked me inside an abandoned manor and set it on fire.
Through the flames, I saw him holding Jacqueline in his arms.
She was pregnant with his child.
And she was wearing silk bought with my mother's dowry.
"Burn it all," Kaelen said coldly. "Leave no trace."
I died screaming his name.
Then I opened my eyes.
I was twenty again.
Kaelen had just returned from the battlefield after being declared dead for two years—and standing beside him was Jacqueline, looking fragile and innocent as ever.
"She saved my life," he told me. "You will accept her."
In my last life, I did.
This time, I slapped him across the face.
Then I burned our marriage contract.
They all thought grief had driven me mad.
They had no idea I remembered everything.
Every betrayal.
Every secret.
Every scandal that had not happened yet.
I knew which noble houses would fall. I knew which princes would rise. I knew the hidden weaknesses of the people who would one day control the Dragon Court.
And they had forgotten something else.
I was never just a wealthy heiress.
I knew herbs. I knew alchemy. I knew how to survive a royal court where one wrong move could cost an entire family its head.
Kaelen wanted my fortune.
Jacqueline wanted my place.
My stepmother wanted my mother's power.
And the men above them wanted to use House Croft as another piece on their board.
Let them try.
I died once as their pawn.
This life, I will take back my family, my fortune, and every drop of blood they owe me.
And when I am finished, I won't just survive the Dragon Court.
I will rule it. 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. One Bride, Five Beasts
crystal tractor After working herself to death, Hannah woke inside a werecreature novel as a doomed villainess with five mates her father had captured and forced into bonds.
Worse, the original Hannah had abused them so badly they were destined to rebel and destroy her.
Determined to survive, she planned to flee to her father, sever every bond, hoard supplies, and start over.
But her escape took an impossible turn. The serpent, merman, lion, fox, and icy priest who should have hated her suddenly refused to let her go-each claiming her as his.
Hannah could only stare. Weren't they supposed to want freedom instead of her? The Rejected Beast Mate: I Am The Royal Heiress
Samuel Gray Lyra endured a level-eight gene-tearing labor entirely alone in a cold, sterile medical pod.
Her legal partner, the revered S-grade Commander Kaelen Vane, was nowhere to be found. Instead, the room's holographic screen broadcasted him spending ten million star coins to buy a smile from her adopted sister.
As Lyra nearly died draining her mental energy to save their newborn cub, the nurses openly mocked her as a useless E-grade piece of trash.
Kaelen had never touched her, treating her very existence with absolute disgust.
When he finally called, it was only to throw money at her and demand she stop throwing a tantrum.
"Without my protection, do you think you and that half-beast mutt will survive three days?"
For a year, she had swallowed his psychological abuse, believing she was just an unwanted orphan. But why should she endure this pathetic, one-sided marriage just to be treated like dirt?
When a routine blood test shattered the lab's max-level analyzer, the truth was revealed: she wasn't an E-grade failure, but the universe's only SSS-grade Starfall Princess. As her ultra-powerful royal family blockaded the planet with a fleet of star destroyers, Lyra took the divorce papers and her newly assigned S-grade dragon fiancé to the tribunal. It was time to make Kaelen watch his precious empire burn to ash. 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." Apocalypse: Rebirth With An Infinite Storage System
BLUE_WAVY_ In the final days before the world collapsed, Ivy Brooks died... betrayed by the very people she trusted most.
She had fought, struggled, and sacrificed everything just to survive the apocalypse only to be pushed into death along with her three daughters at the very end by her own husband.
With her last breath, Ivy made a vow.
If she could turn back time...she would never be weak again and of course protect her daughters.
This time, she would stand at the top.
When Ivy opened her eyes, she found herself back in time with her still rounded belly of her third baby....
Twenty days before the apocalypse.
Armed with memories of the future and a mysterious system in her mind, Ivy moved without hesitation. She hoarded supplies, secured weapons, and took control of every resource she could get her hands on.
While others laughed, doubted, and wasted time...
Ivy was building her empire along with her daughters.
In this life, she would not be prey but will be an hunter.
With danger closing in and only twenty days to prepare, Ivy must outplay enemies both old and new, uncover the truth behind the system, and carve out her own kingdom in a collapsing world.
Because this time...she wasn't just going to survive the apocalypse.
She was going to rule it along with a man, a love interest from the past before her marriage collapse. He provided everything Ivy needed. Money especially in change of a marriage with her and when the apocalypse started too....he ruled it with her as well as her daughters. 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. 
/1/115379/coverorgin.jpg?v=1592d8192291650841264d0ebaa1ee49&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/124659/coverorgin.jpg?v=36e6f07ab18ebac3211b57d1f3059066&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/113253/coverorgin.jpg?v=b33284cd9c56b64f30139057ae294e29&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/113108/coverorgin.jpg?v=c5f5d205f3ef78cb51ff9a57dce41adc&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/106586/coverorgin.jpg?v=83839155f17a0dcea4f71d786f4b8f80&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/104643/coverorgin.jpg?v=8c9a3f7b4e6cfd29be1b75799996ed1b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/104098/coverorgin.jpg?v=3f0b1ddd8162cf2e3151c4d8c6a95e5e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/103521/coverorgin.jpg?v=ec631550b97a569db7bc5486df7fb0ba&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/101767/coverorgin.jpg?v=66f01b6b13af1e22946bf374b9edb35f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/87015/coverorgin.jpg?v=1820f80d27ff1511ba360b422aa17832&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/85911/coverorgin.jpg?v=b6f40d41daeabc48c216cce8478bc5f6&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/85705/coverorgin.jpg?v=bce2354a4e8918b3fd1be86d3048fbfc&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/85248/coverorgin.jpg?v=8d62656eebaff3f20db8b5d634984d3b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/85229/coverorgin.jpg?v=8b18d6bd8fd7aac2bcbd3fa788534a7a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/83323/coverorgin.jpg?v=cdd6fe809b35969aea74793ddc9eb1fa&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/81861/coverorgin.jpg?v=c2bc36e8fb372fb89ead56e44a9da63d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/81163/coverorgin.jpg?v=43160460b17bf9c0329b67c9d92228f1&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/80727/coverorgin.jpg?v=51da192e9207b8636a076a22c1a96f70&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/18665/coverorgin.jpg?v=1760792765900fae37a98d139b262d61&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/123931/coverorgin.jpg?v=46b935087d4d152420a06e58e4a55ce1&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/112583/coverorgin.jpg?v=18d6e11bd7e648d3c960a600b8a48bd9&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/126886/coverorgin.jpg?v=820e38244ff3e26416ba237113a798df&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/125831/coverorgin.jpg?v=8be46c35697bdf6e9b71b0687d525979&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/125282/coverorgin.jpg?v=2381967baf37918a9d3abb5a5156a37a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/125403/coverorgin.jpg?v=7a2f425bdabe621c43499c82deec6c57&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/127356/coverorgin.jpg?v=8cf548c7db140755b10daef60acafb2d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/127406/coverorgin.jpg?v=70af6d856bc01149368053808b6d75d8&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/123129/coverorgin.jpg?v=d898398fef6d003cd8e890aabd2720b9&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/125692/coverorgin.jpg?v=d8fefea90420fdd9e52b7475922704a7&imageMogr2/format/webp)