Zi Ya
18 Published Stories
Zi Ya's Books and Stories
The Unwanted Wife's SSS-Class Husbands
Fantasy At a high-society gala, my wealthy fiancé shoved me hard onto the polished marble floor.
"Get away from me, you worthless stalker," he hissed in front of hundreds of mocking elites.
He publicly broke our engagement, calling me a genetic dead-end, a worthless "Psi-Null."
My own cousin and my other co-fiancés immediately joined the betrayal, legally freezing my trust fund, repossessing my home, and leaving me completely penniless in the rain.
As if that wasn't enough, the Federal matching system suddenly flashed red, assigning me five new mandatory partners.
They weren't just anyone. They were five decommissioned SSS-class military legends.
But they were all on the verge of terminal energy collapse, rapidly devolving into mindless, bloodthirsty beasts.
I was instantly exiled to the Umbra Sanitarium, a high-security prison on a toxic wasteland planet.
My cousin laughed hysterically, tossing a ten-credit coin into a puddle at my feet.
"Not only are you shackled to five dying madmen, but you're being exiled to the galaxy's garbage dump!"
Everyone expected me to cry, to beg, or to be torn apart as their final meal.
They didn't know the pathetic, love-sick Hadley had died when her head hit that marble floor.
My soul, forged in the fires of a dead, post-apocalyptic world, had taken over this body.
I calmly picked up the coin, boarded the rusted cargo ship, and took the job as the prison's new Head Chef.
Looking at the chaotic, deadly energy radiating from the five terrifying monsters in their cells, I smiled.
They thought this was my tomb, but it was actually the perfect feeding ground to level up my dormant powers. The Crippled Alpha's Secret Reborn Mate
Werewolf I was forced to attend the grand Bloom Gala.
My stepsister, April, glided towards me in her emerald dress and pressed a glass of champagne into my hand.
"Drink this. You must be nervous," she smiled, as sweet as poison.
It was this exact glass of drugged wine that started my ultimate ruin.
After drinking it, I lost consciousness and was dragged to the Nightingale Pavilion, where I was forcibly mated by Alpha Hamilton.
April then orchestrated a grand show, leading the entire party to "discover" my scandal.
I was instantly branded a shameless Omega, paraded as a disgrace, and became nothing but a stepping stone for Hamilton's ambition to take the throne.
When I was no longer useful, he chained me in a damp dungeon and slid a silver blade into my pregnant belly.
I screamed silently as the life drained from me, the warmth of my unborn child turning cold.
April just stood there, watching my gruesome death with hidden malice.
Until I died, I couldn't accept it.
Why did my own family weave such a vicious web just to destroy me for power?
The sharp sound of shattering glass suddenly pulled me back from the nightmare.
I stared down at my pale, unscarred hands and flattened my palm against my stomach.
It was empty. Safe.
I had been reborn to the night I was sixteen, right before the trap was sprung.
Looking at April's expectant eyes, I calmly tipped the poisoned champagne into a potted fern.
The lamb they had led to slaughter was dead, and the wolf had returned for blood. The Jilted Wife Is A Secret Heiress
Billionaires The Wellington beef sat cold on the mahogany table, a graying monument to three years of wasted devotion. It was my birthday and our anniversary, but my husband, Hamilton McKee, didn't even look at the gift I’d spent months knitting.
"Our marriage is a transaction," he said, his voice cutting like a scalpel. "Stop trying to make it a romance novel. I just need you to stop existing in my space for five minutes."
Then his phone buzzed with a call from Cuba, the ex-girlfriend he never truly left. His cold mask shattered into frantic concern, a look he had never once given me. "I'm coming," he whispered to her, sprinting for the door without a backward glance at the wife he was leaving behind.
I chased him into the freezing Boston night, only to be swarmed by predatory paparazzi. As Hamilton’s Maybach roared away, a heavy camera bag slammed into my shoulder. I slipped on the black ice, my skull hitting a granite gate pillar with a sickening crack.
Warm blood trickled down my neck, and as the world tilted, the fog in my brain finally cleared. I wasn't the penniless orphan from Southie he thought I was. Images of sterile operating rooms, complex sutures, and a billion-dollar inheritance flooded back—along with the memory of the car wreck three years ago where I was the one who pulled Hamilton from the flames, not Cuba.
How could I have spent three years begging for scraps of affection from a man who didn't even recognize his own savior? Why did I let a fraud steal my life while I played the role of a submissive shadow?
When I woke up in the hospital, the trembling girl was gone. I ripped the IV from my arm and stared at the man who had come back only to demand I stay out of his way. I didn't cry. I didn't beg. I simply handed him a piece of paper with one word written in the sharp, confident script of a woman who owned half the city: DIVORCE.
"Sign it, Hamilton," I said, my voice like ice. "Because by tomorrow, I’m not just leaving you—I’m taking the McKee empire with me." Thirty Days To Marry: The Doctor's Escape
Modern I was Ethan Dejesus’s "glorified roommate" for eight long years. Even though I was a successful doctor, I lived in the guest room of his luxury penthouse and spent my mornings making his coffee like a servant while waiting for a ring that was never coming.
The breaking point came when Ethan forced me to give his mistress, Delisa, a medical exam in the VIP wing of my own hospital. He didn't just want to break my heart; he wanted to destroy my professional dignity in front of the woman he was cheating with.
During a paparazzi swarm at his estate, a heavy camera lens hit me in the temple, leaving me bleeding on the floor. Ethan didn't even flinch. He stepped over my body to protect Delisa, making sure he looked like a hero for the cameras while I struggled to stand. That night, I overheard him laughing at a bar, telling his friends I was like a "stray dog" that would always crawl back for scraps no matter how much he starved me. When I finally stood up to him, he shoved me out of his SUV onto a dark highway in the middle of a rainstorm and threw my purse into the mud. I walked for miles in the freezing rain, only to get home and find Delisa already moved into the penthouse, sitting at my vanity and wearing my clothes.
"You'll be back in a week when the money runs out," he laughed as I packed my only suitcase.
"You're a nobody from Queens. You have nothing without me."
I looked at the man I had loved for nearly a decade and realized the woman who worshipped him was dead. He had murdered her on that highway, and he didn't even care.
I blocked his number, dropped my key card on the floor, and walked out into the night without looking back. I wasn't going to be his "stray dog" anymore. I was heading to a small house in the suburbs to meet Carleton Schmitt—a total stranger I had agreed to marry in a moment of drunken desperation who was now my only way out. Broken By The Heir, Claimed By Power
Modern I spent two years navigating the stratified air of Spencer Kensington’s world, thinking I was the woman he loved. I even ate instant ramen for months to afford a vintage camera lens for our anniversary. When I got a mysterious text about "Operation Blue Moon," I thought it was our private signal for a proposal.
Instead, I walked into a limestone fortress to find the Kensington and Van Der Woodsen Engagement Party in full swing. Spencer wasn't there for a romantic dinner; he was standing under a crystal chandelier, announcing his "business merger" with a blonde heiress.
When I confronted him in a service hallway, he didn't apologize. He offered to buy me a brownstone and keep me as his "side project" while his mother, Victoria, watched from the balcony like a queen.
"Vanessa is just furniture," he said, his voice full of a terrifying sincerity. "But you're the one I love. I can give you a life of ease."
When I refused to be his dirty little secret, the retaliation was instant and brutal. By the next morning, I was fired from my reporting job, my father’s nursing home funding was pulled, and I returned home to find my apartment condemned by the city. My entire life was piled in wet boxes on a rain-soaked sidewalk.
I couldn't understand how one family could have the power to erase a person’s existence in a single night. How could the man who kissed me yesterday watch his mother leave me homeless and penniless today?
Standing in the rain next to my ruined belongings, a black SUV pulled up and Mayor Julian Sterling stepped out. He didn't offer me pity; he offered me a deal.
"The Kensingtons are panicked," he said, his eyes cold and calculating. "And panicked people make mistakes. You have a reason to watch them burn. I want to see what you know."
I took his hand, knowing he was just as dangerous as the people I was fighting, but I was done being the victim. This wasn't just a breakup anymore; it was a war. Sold, Framed, Now She's Free
Modern On my 21st birthday, my fiancé Chandler and my adoptive sister Brenda drugged me and sold my first night at a secret auction.
Then they framed me for arson, and I spent the next three years in prison learning how to survive.
After my release, I fought in underground clubs, bleeding for the money to buy back my family's brownstone. But Chandler found me, calling me a "common harlot" as he tried to drag me home.
He offered me a "last chance" to apologize to Brenda for the crimes she committed. When I refused, he publicly announced the sale of my home.
All proceeds would be donated to the "Brenda Richardson Philanthropic Foundation."
He didn't just take my money; he took my soul. He took the last tangible piece of my parents, of my identity. Everything was gone.
As I collapsed onto the grimy floor, my world shattered, I fumbled for my phone. There was only one name left, one last hope.
"Brien," I choked out, my voice broken. "Please. I need your help. Get me out of here." His Shield, Her Secret Empire
Modern I fell for Kade Livingston, the campus king. To protect his family's reputation, he asked me to be his "shield," making me endure vicious bullying and even a kidnapping as a supposed test of my love.
I endured it all, until his fragile stepsister, Dani, stole my most personal work—a photography series honoring my late mother.
She didn't just steal it; she twisted my art into a grotesque, pornographic mockery of her memory. When I tried to expose her, Kade destroyed all my evidence. He then had me kidnapped and beaten, leaving me for dead, all to protect his stepsister's crime and hide the twisted nature of their bond.
Lying bruised in a hospital bed, I finally understood. He never loved me. I was just a disposable pawn in his family's sick game. My disguise as a plain student, meant to keep me safe, had only made me a target for her jealousy.
But they made one fatal mistake. They thought they were destroying Holly Erickson, a quiet, unremarkable girl.
They had no idea they were messing with K.B. Barry, the secretly world-famous author with the power to ruin them all.
Today, at the photography competition where they plan to celebrate their crime, I will make my first-ever public appearance and show them what happens when you break a queen. His Orchestrated Love, My Shattered Life
Modern After a brutal assault cost me my fiancé, my childhood friend swooped in to save me. He married me, cherished me, and I fell in love with the perfect life he built. I thought I had finally found my happy ending.
Then, pregnant with our child, I overheard him confessing to my half-sister. He had orchestrated the entire assault. He married me just to stay close to her.
In the hospital, she staged an attack, claiming I tried to kill her and her unborn baby. My husband shoved me against the wall, roaring at me as he rushed to her side.
"I'll kill you for this!"
As I lay bleeding on the cold floor, losing my own child, not a single person looked back. I was just a necessary casualty in his game.
But I had recorded her gloating confession. I faked my death and fled to my billionaire mother. He would find out the truth, and I would be the ghost that haunted him to his grave. From Ashes: A Second Chance
Fantasy I had loved my fiancé, Dominic Watts, since we were children. Our marriage was supposed to be the perfect seal on a merger between our two family empires.
In my last life, he stood outside my burning art studio with my stepsister, Julia, and watched me die.
I screamed for him, the smoke choking me, my skin searing from the heat. "Dominic, please! Help me!"
Julia clung to his arm, her face a picture of false terror. "It's too dangerous! You'll get hurt! We have to go!"
And he listened. He looked at me one last time, his eyes filled with a pity that cut deeper than any flame, and then he turned and ran, leaving me to burn.
Until I died, I didn't understand. The boy who promised to always protect me had just watched me burn to death. My unconditional love was the price I paid so he could be with my sister.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back in my bedroom. In one hour, I was due at the family board meeting. This time, I walked straight to the head of the table and said, "I am breaking the engagement." The Forgotten Wife's Comeback
Romance For five years, my architectural career was my sanctuary, a fortress I built around myself and my sick daughter, Lily, after David, my fiancé and Lily' s father, vanished without a trace, leaving us to drown in debt and medical bills. The man who promised forever simply disappeared, and I poured every ounce of my being into keeping Lily alive.
Then, he reappeared. Not alone, but with Chloe Davis – my best friend since childhood – by his side, her arm possessively linked through his. She was glowing, pregnant with his child, while my own daughter fought for every breath. They looked so perfectly, disgustingly happy.
My world shattered again, only this time, he looked me in the eye, the woman he once loved, the mother of his child, and asked, "Who are you?" His mother and Chloe joined in, accusing me of stalking, of being crazy, while he stood by silently, denying our entire past, denying Lily.
How could he forget? How could the man who swore to protect me, who saw my dreams, now look at me with such cold indifference, even annoyance? Did our love mean so little? Did our daughter mean nothing at all?
But the final blow landed in Lily' s hospital room, where he stood with Chloe, brazenly celebrating their new life, while Lily gasped for air, hooked up to machines. He looked at our dying daughter and declared, "Whatever is wrong with this child, it has nothing to do with me." That lie, that ultimate betrayal, finally snapped something inside me. Enough. It was time for him to remember, and for me to fight back for my daughter, for our truth. Ashes of a Golden Anniversary
Romance The smell of smoke and burning memories filled my lungs on our golden anniversary.
Fifty years of what I thought was love, a shared history, was going up in flames around me.
Then, terror: Sarah, my wife, screamed not for me, but for David, my best friend, trapped under a beam.
She shoved me-not away from the danger, but directly into a wall of fire, clearing her path to David.
As the fire consumed me, I saw her scramble past where I' d just stood, without a single backward glance.
Our children, our very own children, rushed past my agonized screams, ignoring their burning father to free the man their mother truly loved.
I survived, a testament to the fire' s fury: a landscape of scars and melted skin.
In the sterile hospital room, she finally came, with a chilling resolve I' d glimpsed but never comprehended.
"Ethan, let' s get a divorce," she said, her voice flat. "I want to spend whatever time I have left with David. It' s always been him."
My own children, our children, then stood at the foot of my bed, faces twisted in a mixture of pity and impatience.
"Dad, just let her go," my son urged, "Mom and David… they deserve to be happy. You were just… in the way."
Fifty years of sacrifice, of putting dreams aside, of loving, and I was just "in the way."
They remarried the very next day, a grand affair splashed across media headlines mocking me, the burned, pathetic old husband cast aside for an "epic romance."
But as I lay there, I knew one thing they didn' t: if I had the chance, I' d never, ever marry Sarah Reynolds.
Then I closed my eyes.
I opened them to the scent of lilies, standing in a grand ballroom, unburned.
Opposite me, a young Sarah Reynolds, eyes shining with excitement, at our engagement party.
Before a toast could be made, she looked right at me, clear and brave: "I' m sorry, everyone. I can' t do this. Ethan, I' m calling off the engagement."
A wave of whispers spread, expecting my humiliation.
But all I felt was the crushing weight of fifty miserable years lift from my shoulders.
It was a clean break, an unexpected gift.
My eyes scanned the crowd, past Sarah' s bewildered parents, past a smirking David Chen.
I found her near the orchestra, a guest who barely knew us: Dr. Olivia Hayes, a woman of quiet grace and intelligence.
"Olivia," I said, my voice clear and steady, cutting through the noise. "I only want to marry you. Will you take me away?" His Gilded Cage: A Husband's Escape
Modern It was our tenth wedding anniversary, but the party felt exactly like the nine humiliating ones before it.
My wife, Vanessa Thorne, a dazzling socialite to the world, was my warden, and tonight, she paraded her newest "toy," a young model named Liam.
"Show him the ropes," she purred, her eyes alight with cruel amusement, forcing me, her husband, to mentor her latest conquest in how to "please her."
As the guests snickered, the subtext was clear: "Show him how to be my pet, just like you."
For ten years, I had been her gilded prisoner, my father's mounting medical bills the chain around my neck, paid for by the Thorne family.
But tonight, something inside me snapped.
"No," I whispered, then louder, "No. I won't."
I met her eyes and declared, "Vanessa, I want a divorce."
The room erupted in laughter, and Vanessa sneered, "You always come crawling back. You have nothing. You are nothing without me."
She was right; ninety-nine times, I had failed, but this was the hundredth.
I pulled out a printed divorce agreement, a symbol of my resolve.
In response, she snatched my champagne and flung it in my face, hissing, "Have you forgotten what you are? You belong to me."
Then, for her audience, she commanded, "Get on your knees, Ethan. Crawl to me. Bark like the dog you are."
Soaked, shaking, and utterly broken, I knelt, the marble cold beneath me, and whimpered, "Woof."
That night, locked in my studio, the phone rang: my father was dying.
I pounded on the door, screaming, "Vanessa! Let me out! He's dying!"
Her reply, cynical and cold, echoed through the wood, "Another trick? It's pathetic."
She left me there, and a primal fury ignited.
I smashed the window, cut myself on the glass, and fashioned a rope from canvas.
I barely made it down, landing hard and breaking my ankle, but I crawled through hedges, alarms blaring.
On the street, a sleek black sedan pulled up.
A woman, Sarah Jenkins, offered, "You look like you're in trouble."
I gasped, "I need to get to the hospital. My father..."
"Get in," she said, her voice calm and steady.
At the emergency room, I heard it: "Mr. Miller... just passed a few minutes ago."
My father was gone.
The chain was broken.
A strange, terrifying sense of freedom washed over me, a feeling of nothing left to lose.
I clutched Sarah's card, a lifeline in my hand, and whispered, "I'm so, so tired of fighting." Poisoned Cupcakes, Poisoned Heart
Horror My life as a librarian in a small Southern town was perfect, a sun-drenched dream.
My new husband, Mark, was solid and dependable.
And then, two pink lines: triplets.
My heart swelled, a joy so big it almost hurt.
But the whisper started, directly in my mind.
"I hope Mommy Sarah likes the special cupcakes I made just for her."
It was Chloe, Mark' s sweet-faced ten-year-old daughter.
A cold dread, sharp and familiar, sliced through me.
It wasn' t just a dream, it was a terrifying memory of a life I' d lived before, a future so certain it felt like the past.
Chloe, innocent smile, offering poisoned cupcakes.
Me, trusting, then fire, loss, and darkness.
My unborn babies and I, gone.
"Sarah, honey, look what Chloe made for you!" Mark boomed, holding a plate of bright cupcakes.
I gasped, faking sudden morning sickness.
Panicked, I offered them to Mark.
Chloe' s innocent mask flickered; panic flashed in her eyes when I suggested Mark try one.
She snatched the plate, claiming they were only for me.
A cupcake fell, and our golden retriever, Buddy, gobbled the frosting.
Minutes later, Buddy was violently retching, poisoned.
The vet confirmed it: household cleaner.
Chloe burst into tears, feigning an accident, but her projected thought was chilling: "Stupid dog. Almost ruined everything."
Mark, heartbroken by Buddy' s illness, was blinded by her act.
He looked at me, full of concern for Chloe.
"It was just a terrible mistake, Sarah. She' s just a child."
He didn' t know.
He couldn't hear the venom, the calculation, the hidden hatred aimed at me and my unborn children.
How could I make him see the truth when the enemy wore a child' s face and spoke only in my mind?
A new, icy fear coiled around the warmth of my babies.
This was just the beginning. He Said He Loved Her, But She Kissed Me
Romance My life was falling apart, much like my Brooklyn apartment with its persistent leak.
Then, I stumbled back into the life of Gabrielle Chadwick, the woman who' d ripped my soul out three years ago, only to find her in my best friend' s bed.
She was now a ruthless tech CEO, engaged to the same insidious man who' d convinced me I was just her "project."
My old wounds bled anew, and I tried to escape, even inventing a fake girlfriend.
But Gabrielle wouldn't let me go; she trapped me, demanding answers, which I met with accusations of her playing games.
At a lavish industry event, to finally sever our toxic tie, I publicly declared my love for someone else, shattering her.
Hours later, she found me, furious, desperate, and after slapping me, kissed me like her life depended on it.
We reignited, but then she vanished for an "emergency meeting," leaving me with that familiar sinking feeling.
The next day, news broke: Gabrielle was merging her company and marrying her fiancé, and I was fired, my project snatched away as a condition of their deal.
Heartbroken, I deleted her number, booked a flight to Berlin, ready to erase her from my life for good.
But as my boarding call echoed, the airport screens flashed: "Merger Off! Chadwick Innovations Stock in Freefall!"
Then, I heard her scream my name, saw her running towards me barefoot through the terminal, tears streaming down her face, telling me everything was a lie and a fight for us. 999 Rejections: Her Final Escape
Romance For five long years, I chased a man' s love, guided by a mysterious "System" that promised me his heart.
I lived in a world not my own, sacrificing everything for Ethan Lester, enduring 999 rejections while he preached piety and purity.
Then, I found him in his private prayer room, not praying, but whispering Maria's name to a hyper-realistic sex doll, an exact replica of his adopted sister.
My entire marriage was a sham, a shield for his twisted obsession; all his coldness and devotion were just a lie.
I didn't play a game; I tried to make a man love me, but discovered he was in love with his sister, and I was just a fool for listening.
But when he then harvested my skin for a graft-without my consent-to protect Maria's perfect face after a near-fatal incident he caused, I knew I was truly done.
He offered me his body as a 'reward' for my severed flesh, but the disgust was cleansing; it burned away every last shred of my affection.
I finally understood; my worth wasn' t tied to his twisted devotion.
So, I ripped out my IV, filed the divorce papers he' d unknowingly signed, and stood in his empty mansion: "System, take me home." Echoes of a Nightmare
Young Adult The night before the SATs, I sat at my desk, my mind fixed not on review books, but on Kevin Johnson, my ex-boyfriend, whose excited voice boomed from downstairs, bragging to my dad about Tiff Rodriguez' s party-his new girlfriend.
Then, a horrifying, vivid memory jolted me from what should have been a normal evening: Tiff, sneering in the school bathroom, outlining her vicious plan to drug Kevin so he' d miss his Ivy League SATs. In that other life, the one I somehow lived, I' d desperately tried to intervene, to warn him, but he' d just laughed it off.
Tiff' s scheme ultimately failed and led to her death, but Kevin, consumed by rage, responded by framing me for sexual assault. The unbearable shame of his lies drove my parents to suicide, and I, arrested and condemned, died in juvenile detention, haunted by Kevin' s cruel visit displaying my parents' last, broken moments.
The utter injustice of his monstrous lies, the agonizing despair of being blamed for everything while struggling to help, was an unbearable burden. How could one life be so thoroughly shattered by such a deep, twisted betrayal?
But then, a sharp gasp brought me back to my room, the exact same night before the SATs, Kevin' s laughter still echoing. This was it: my second chance. A cold, knowing smile touched my lips. This time, I would write a different ending. Her Love, My Curse
Young Adult My adoptive sister, Sarah, was always distant. Ready to flee to college, my phone buzzed with an odd pop-up: She' s watching you. Her heart is breaking. Soon, these constant, mysterious messages haunted me.
Then her manipulative boyfriend, Jake, turned our home into hell, destroying my most cherished things. Yet, the pop-ups relentlessly insisted Sarah' s coldness and complicity were secret acts of sacrificing love for me.
The pop-ups justified every cruel act. But the ultimate betrayal came when Jake attacked my little sister Lily. Sarah publicly framed me, forcing Lily to lie, cementing my role as the family' s villain.
How could this be love? This twisted nightmare, fueled by constant, insidious messages, made me question everything. Was I blind, or was Sarah truly lost? The gaslighting was relentless.
Finally, Jake was gone. Sarah declared her love, expecting a future. But her "love" was a curse. With harsh words, I severed the toxic bond. In that moment, the pop-ups vanished forever. I was truly free. 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. The Healer Bride: Awakening the Ruined Dragon King
Zana Kheiron I was the eldest daughter of the Reynolds family, but in a world that worshipped dragon power, I was born completely "Dragonless."
After ten years of being engaged to Prince Krishna, the King suddenly decreed that my fiancé would marry my half-sister Deena instead.
As for me, my father ruthlessly discarded me.
I was ordered to marry Lord Boyce Carlisle, a crippled, dying warlord with a shattered Dragon Core and failing organs.
I was being sent to a desolate border fortress just to be a dying man's nursemaid, and then his widow.
Deena flaunted her triumphant smile, whispering maliciously in my ear.
"This is the fate a 'Dragonless' deserves. You're being sent there to be buried with him."
My father didn't even look at me, treating my death sentence as a highly profitable political trade.
The suffocating despair and humiliation drove me to tie a silk sash to the ceiling beam and kick the chair away.
Why should I be thrown away like trash?
Why did my mother and I have to die in obscurity while they celebrated their royal wedding?
But as the noose tightened, a violent torrent of memories flooded my mind.
I remembered my past life as a top surgeon on Earth who spent thirty years snatching lives back from the jaws of death.
I didn't die.
I cut myself down, wiped away my tears, and looked at my hands.
I would heal this dying warlord, and use him to drag every single one of them to hell. 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. 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. 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. Useless Female? All The Alphas Want Me
Scrap Lullaby After transmigrating into a doomed novel villainess in the werecreature universe, who was destined for exile and death, Ella refused to follow the script.
Since the real heiress would return in two years, she prepared early-gathering money, allies, and powerful supporters. One by one, she rescued the discarded men of the heroine.
There was the abandoned werewolf, half-dead in his cage. She claimed him without a second thought.
Then came the broken healer-disfigured, depressed, his mind warped by years of family cruelty. She pulled him from the wreckage.
And the poor little thing treated like a wallet by the heroine, a pawn by his own family. She took him in anyway.
But things spiraled out of control. The "useless" princess everyone mocked awakened as the empire's only SSS-ranked female-and suddenly, every powerful werecreature wanted to stay by her side forever.
When the real heiress finally came back, she was floored. Not one of the men she'd been eyeing could even come close to the mates of that so-called "useless" Ella.
Surrounded by the mates she'd collected along the way, Ella let out a long, tired sigh. "I think I've bitten off way more than I can chew!" Apocalypse Rebirth: My Gold-Eating System
Quye Xiaofang She died in the apocalypse-betrayed, abandoned, and torn apart by the infected.
Then she woke up. Two months before the end of the world. Twenty-two years old again. And on her wrist, a wooden bracelet that her mother had left behind.
The bracelet came with a system. A system that eats gold.
With enough gold, she can unlock infinite storage for food, water, weapons-anything she needs to survive. The super-hurricane, the floods, the insect plagues, the volcanic winter, the scorching heat... she knows exactly what's coming.
While the world sleeps, Joanna shops. She drains her aunt's bank account, maxes out every loan she can find, and buys out half the city. The apocalypse is coming. She'll be ready.
But when the chaos begins, the wolves come crawling back-relatives who sold her, friends who betrayed her, a father who abandoned her. They want her food. Her water. Her mercy.
Joanna has a different plan.
"Why don't you decide who dies first?" Marked by the Monsters I Created
Lila Maya Cross woke up in a nightmare-trapped in the body of a sadistic villain who'd tortured five powerful beastmen into submission.
Good news? She finally had the power to break their bonds and set them free.
Bad news? They were stranded on a dying ship surrounded by Zerg swarms, with zero rescue coming.
The first was Caleb, a snake beastman whose red eyes burned with pure hatred. Every time he looked at her, she saw the memory of chains and venom extraction.
The second was Finn, an aquatic beastman whose scales she'd ripped off one by one. He could barely stand to be in the same room without his hands shaking with rage.
The third was Sage, a griffin beastman she'd tormented so badly he barely went a day without fresh wounds.
The fourth was Hunter, a lion beastman she'd mocked relentlessly, calling his beast form hideous and grotesque.
The fifth was Jasper, a fox beastman whose face she'd scarred so badly he'd lost his consortium inheritance.
"Protect me until I find my father," Maya told them, drawing her own blood, "and I'll give you what you need to break our bond."
Caleb laughed bitterly. "Since when do you make deals instead of demands?"
"Since we're all dead if we don't work together."
But when survival depends on trust, can a torturer become a savior-or will her victims choose revenge over rescue? Severed Ties: Marrying The Cursed Dragon Lord
The Edge I woke up to the searing agony of shattered ribs and a ruptured heart. I had transmigrated into the body of Alys, the "Dragonless" disgrace of a noble dragon-kin family.
The original owner had just been beaten to death by her own brother. Her crime? Refusing to take her beloved sister's place in a marriage to a cursed, notoriously cruel Dragon Lord.
As I lay dying in a pool of my own blood, my brother raised his foot to kick me again.
"Will you marry him, or not? Don't make me do it again, you family disgrace!"
My beautiful sister Henrietta hid behind her fake tears, begging him to stop while her eyes glittered with cruel satisfaction. My parents didn't care about my fatal injuries. They only cared that I was breathing enough to be tossed into a carriage to save the family's honor. To them, my life was just a cheap bargaining chip to protect their precious youngest daughter.
They expected me to submit in fear, to quietly accept my fate as a sacrificial lamb for this hypocritical family. They thought I would die silently in that cursed lord's frozen keep without a fight.
But I am a top modern surgeon, not the weak girl they abused for twenty years. I looked at my so-called family with cold detachment and agreed to the substitute marriage. But first, I would extort a massive dowry, strip them of their most profitable assets, and force my father to sign a document severing all ties. I will marry the monster, but this time, I am playing by my own rules. 
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