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Chapter 1 A Second Chance at Life "Why don't you just drop dead already, Caroline." "You ugly freak. No one would care if you were dead anyway." "You're nothing but a lapdog for the Shaws." The vicious insults rang in her head like a curse. Caroline Shaw, a girl who once looked so gentle, lay on the massive hotel bed and endured the agony in her body before she finally slit her wrist. The world was far too cruel for her to bear. 'Mom, I can't hold on any longer,' she thought. ***** At eight o'clock that evening at the Grand Dominion Hotel, Carolyn Quinn opened her eyes. She stared at the unfamiliar room and cursed under her breath. "What the hell? Where am I?" Carolyn had been the top assassin of a world-renowned organization in Kingston, but she had failed an S-rank mission and leaked classified data. She expected a heavy sentence, but her heart had suddenly seized and she woke up in this strange bed. Carolyn forced herself to sit up despite the piercing pain in her wrist. She tore the bedsheets and wrapped them tightly around the wound. She realized she had slit her wrists, lost a significant amount of blood, and was now locked in a room without any weapons. Her limbs felt weak and the room was suffocatingly hot, and she suddenly realized she had been drugged. A sleazy chuckle drifted in from outside the door. Carolyn's gaze darkened because she needed to leave this dangerous place immediately. The door was out of the question, but she noticed an open window. She skillfully twisted the bedsheets into a rope and gripped the fabric to rappel from the twenty-second floor. She successfully managed to swing into a bedroom on the twenty-first floor. ***** In the living room outside, Ethan Hunter held his phone and threatened the person on the other end. "Adrian, I'm giving you one last chance to open this door, or you will regret it." Adrian Hunter couldn't help but shiver. "Ethan, it's not that I won't open it, but Mom made me do it." Before Ethan could respond, a cheerful female voice took over the call. "Be a good boy and listen to me, Ethan. "I had your fortune read, and your 'destined encounter' is right there in that room. Just stay put for the night and I'll let you out tomorrow." Ethan sighed. "Mom, do you really think a woman is just going to drop out of thin air? This isn't the way to force me into marriage. Wait, you didn't plant someone in here again, did you?" The line went dead before he could finish. Ethan rubbed his temples in frustration. He couldn't believe anyone still believed in fortune-telling in this day and age. He tossed his phone aside and loosened his tie, and the disarray of his collar only made him look more handsome. He walked into the bedroom and froze at the sight before him. Carolyn sat on the floor in a skimpy outfit. Her long hair draped over her body, leaving only her legs visible. She was rubbing her forehead and muttering to herself. "Seriously? Just my luck." When she heard the door, Carolyn looked up and met Ethan's gaze. Her eyes drifted to his loosened collar and she gasped. To her, he looked like a prime steak being served to a starving wolf. Carolyn gave an awkward laugh and tried to test the waters. "Would you believe me if I said I just took a wrong turn?" Ethan was at a loss for words. Carolyn scrambled up from the floor. The nightgown was far too revealing, and she felt exposed under Ethan's intense, searching gaze. She decided to just dive under the covers of the bed. Once she was safely wrapped up, she finally caught her breath. "Listen, I really did take a wrong turn. If you open the door for me, I'll leave right now. "If you can give me some normal clothes, I promise I'll make it up to you someday." Ethan's lips parted as he spoke two words. "I can't." Carolyn scratched her head and tried again. "Could I borrow your jacket to cover myself then? I'll definitely pay you back later." Ethan hesitated for a moment before he tossed his jacket to her. Carolyn put it on quickly and noted how huge it was on her since he was so tall. She rushed to the door and tried to open it because she wanted her freedom immediately. She pressed the handle, but it didn't move. "The door is locked," Ethan said as he leaned against the doorframe. He noticed her flushed face and felt a flicker of surprise at her beauty. "So, are you the little gift my mother sent over?" Ethan thought his mother was unreliable, but her taste in women was always impeccable. Carolyn was stunned. "Me? A gift? No, people usually call me a little nightmare." Ethan didn't know how to respond to that. Since they were both locked in, Carolyn decided to ask for clarification. "Are you in the same situation as me?" Ethan was confused until he saw her fanning herself. He realized immediately what was going on. He wondered if Adrian had actually dared to do this, but then he realized his brother and mother wouldn't stoop to such a level to provide him with a woman. Carolyn paced the room anxiously and glanced at Ethan. He was exceptionally handsome and his features were perfectly defined, which made him quite a sight to behold. She swallowed hard and offered a threat. "Stay away from me. I'm afraid I'll lose control, and I won't take responsibility if I do. But if you try to take advantage of me, I'll definitely ruin you." Ethan almost laughed because it was the first time a woman had ever spoken to him like that. He couldn't believe he was being rejected by a woman who had clearly been set up. Carolyn felt like she was burning up. She ran into the bathroom and turned on the cold water. The spray helped clear her head, the water mixed with the blood from her wrist and began to drip onto the floor. Ethan frowned and walked over to her. "Are you bleeding?" he said. Carolyn struck at his neck the moment he got close, but Ethan blocked her move with lightning speed. She glared at him. "I told you not to try anything." Her movements were sharp and her gaze was cold. She wasn't anything like the typical pampered socialites he knew. She was vibrant and striking, and she managed to stir Ethan's long-dormant heart. He grabbed her waist and pulled her close. "And what if I do?" he asked with sudden interest. "You don't seem very intimidating like this." Chapter 2 A Disfigured Face Carolyn touched Ethan's body and it felt as if she had been pressed against a sheet of ice. She couldn't help but let out a soft sigh of relief, but she quickly realized what was happening. She shoved Ethan away instantly and leaned against the wall while she gasped for breath. She cursed inwardly. 'Damn it. I had never endured such torture back when I was a top-tier assassin.' Her eyes suddenly caught sight of a fruit knife resting on the coffee table. Carolyn rushed toward it and gripped the blade directly with her bare hand. Fresh blood surged out and the sharp sting of pain cleared her mind. Ethan frowned when he saw that she was willing to self-mutilate just to stay conscious. He stepped forward to take the knife away and then he swept her up into his arms. Carolyn felt a brief moment of comfort from being held, but she also loathed her lack of self-control. She gritted her teeth and spoke through the haze. "If you dare touch me, I will..." Before she could finish, a loud splash echoed through the room. Ethan had dropped her into a bathtub filled with cold water without a hint of mercy. The freezing chill surged over her and Carolyn finally managed to force her eyes open. Her features were delicate and her face was flushed a deep red. Her wet hair clung to her neck while her white nightgown drifted on the surface of the water. Her fingertips were pale from gripping the edge of the tub and her eyelashes trembled. She was a perfect, striking mixture of beauty and desperate restraint. Ethan tugged at his tie and pulled out his phone to make a call. He sounded incredibly annoyed. "Grand Dominion Hotel, Room 2105. Get over here and open the door." A few minutes later, the door opened and Oliver Kane walked in while he wore a white lab coat. He offered a lazy yawn and a mocking grin. "Ethan, what kind of show are you putting on today? Is this some kind of romantic setup?" Ethan's expression darkened and he snapped at his friend. "Get over here. I need you to save someone." Oliver stepped into the bathroom and saw Carolyn as she started to lose consciousness in the tub. He clicked his tongue in surprise. "This is a bit hardcore, isn't it?" "Do you have a death wish?" Ethan asked while he glared at him. Oliver immediately backed down and raised his hands. "Fine. Just get her out of there. How am I supposed to treat her in a bathtub?" Ethan leaned down to lift Carolyn out of the water and he tucked her into the bed. Oliver performed a quick examination and sighed. "We need to go to the hospital. The wound on her wrist is too deep and she needs stitches." Her wrist looked gruesome because the water had turned the wound a ghastly shade of pale. Ethan hesitated for a moment before he picked her up again and walked out of the room. The hotel had already been cleared of other guests. A blacked-out Bentley sat at the entrance while guards stood in two disciplined rows. Ethan carried Carolyn into the car with a stoic expression. Oliver watched them go and muttered to himself. "Maybe his luck with women has finally changed." Ethan's assistant, Nixon Cole, stood nearby and nudged Oliver. "Mr. Kane, this is the first time I've seen the boss touch a woman. Who is she?" Oliver adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses and shook his head with a mysterious smile. "Well, it is hard to say." At the hospital, Oliver finished treating Carolyn and returned to the director's office. Ethan was sitting on the sofa working on files on his laptop. He looked up and asked, "Are her wounds properly bandaged?" "She's all set," Oliver said with a nod. "But that wound was incredibly deep. It looked like a suicide attempt to me." Ethan frowned slightly. He didn't think she was the type to take her own life. Her gaze had been far too sharp and cold for that. "Find someone to watch her. I am going back to my apartment for the night," Ethan said. Oliver agreed and they both left the hospital. ***** Carolyn didn't sleep peacefully. Memories of her previous life replayed in her dreams like a recurring nightmare. "It's an ambush. I am requesting to abort the mission." "Request denied." "They have a sniper. I need aerial support." "Request denied." "Requesting a retreat." "Request denied." The roar of gunfire, the chaotic cries for help, and the final screams thick with the scent of blood flooded her senses. The dream shifted and Carolyn found herself tied to an electric chair. Her body convulsed in pain and she was drenched in sweat. "The mission was a failure, yet you are the only one who made it out easily. You're a traitor. You were the one who leaked the data," said the person questioning her. Carolyn spat back through gritted teeth. "I took a bullet for the team. You call that making it out easily? I was out on a mission with Raven. How could I be the traitor?" "Carolyn, Raven is dead, but you are still alive." That one sentence was enough. In their eyes, her survival was a sin and she deserved to carry the guilt. Her former friends looked at her with icy, venomous looks. Not a single person in the organization believed her. Another surge of electricity hit her and the insults continued to ring in her ears. Carolyn's eyes were bloodshot and she clenched her fists so hard that her nails dug into her palms. She wondered who the traitor hiding in the shadows truly was. She vowed that she would find them and make them pay for destroying her entire team. As the first light of dawn broke, Carolyn woke up and rubbed her head. The agonizing sensation from the drug was gone and her wrist was neatly bandaged. She stared at the empty IV bag by the bed and blinked in a daze. It was not a dream; she really had a second chance at life. At the moment she had lost everything, she had been given a chance to live again under a different identity. Carolyn got out of bed to wash her face. When she looked into the mirror, even she was startled by what she saw. The face was still hers, but a jagged scar stretched across her right cheek from her jaw to her ear. Carolyn had been a beauty in the mercenary world. Even a man with such picky taste as Nolan used to say that her missions were too easy because men would lose their resolve the moment they saw her face. Now, that beautiful and powerful Carolyn was dead, and she was now living in this disfigured girl's body. A flood of memories suddenly rushed into her mind. The original owner of this body was named Caroline Shaw and she was the eldest daughter of the Shaw family. Her mother had died young and her father had remarried. Her stepmother had two daughters of her own and Caroline had been treated like a ghost in her own home. She was someone everyone felt they could bully. Carolyn sighed because she realized that her being alive in this body meant the poor girl had already died. The painful memories flipped through her mind like a photo album. She saw a childhood filled with ridicule, a ruined face, and trampled dreams. Everything Caroline cherished had been taken from her, including her life and the dignity she almost lost the night before. A cold light flickered in Carolyn's eyes. She touched the scar on her face and whispered, "Don't worry. From today on, I am you, Caroline. I will get back everything that was yours, piece by piece." Her appearance, her career, and her inheritance would all be hers again. Then, she would find a way to return to Kingston. There were no guards outside, so Caroline put on the suit jacket Ethan had left behind and walked out. She caught a cab back to the Shaw residence. The original Caroline had been timid, but her late mother had left her an engagement contract. This contract bound her to the heir of the Lewis family, Lucas Lewis. Caroline had grown up with him and she had been completely devoted to him. She had even suffered disfigurement and countless insults for his sake. Unfortunately, Lucas didn't love her at all. He was in love with Caroline's younger sister, Claire Shaw. Claire acted innocent on the surface, but she was the one who came up with the vicious plan to drug Caroline at the hotel. She wanted to destroy Caroline's reputation so that she would be too ashamed to marry into the Lewis family. That betrayal was why the original Caroline had finally reached her breaking point and chose to end her life. Caroline stepped out of the cab and looked at the modest villa. Her eyes were cold. She thought to herself, 'What you owe Caroline, I'll take back, one by one.' Chapter 3 Ending the Engagement "Miss Caroline, you're back." The servant at the door looked panicked when she saw Caroline. Caroline nodded and began to walk inside, but the servant suddenly lunged forward to grab her. Caroline stumbled from the force of the pull. "You can't go in," the servant shouted. Caroline's expression turned icy. "Move out of my way." She knew that the original owner of this body was treated poorly by the Shaw family, but she did not expect even a servant to lay hands on her. The servant spread her arms to block the path and refused to budge. "Miss Claire gave strict orders. You are not allowed to enter." A second servant standing nearby sneered at her. "Just let her in. This isn't the first time she's done something like this anyway. Mr. Lewis clearly doesn't want her, yet she insists on throwing herself at him." "It is truly pathetic. If this happened back in our day, people would be shaming her until she couldn't show her face." "I really wonder how her late mother raised her. How could she be so shameless?" These servants had worked for the Shaw family for years and they were used to mocking Caroline whenever they were bored. They knew she was weak and would never fight back. Caroline watched them with a neutral expression. She realized these people must have insulted the original owner's mother many times before. She suddenly raised her hand and slapped the servant standing in front of her. "Ah." The servant cried out as she fell to the ground. "How... how dare you..." she stammered while she trembled. The once-timid Caroline stood in the sunlight with a sharp gaze. "I am only going to say this once, so you had better listen carefully. I am the eldest daughter of the Shaw family. "My late mother was the legal wife of this household. If I ever hear any of you speak a word against her again, I will hit you until you finally learn your lesson. Do you understand?" Her presence was so overwhelming that the servants quickly nodded in fear. "We understand." "Now move!" Caroline barked the command and the servants scrambled to clear the path. None of them dared to stop her again. As she entered the villa, she immediately walked into the living room and found a man and a woman acting affectionately. They were none other than her younger sister, Claire, and the man the original owner had loved so deeply, Lucas. Claire didn't look embarrassed at all when she saw Caroline. In fact, a flash of provocation danced in the depths of her eyes. However, Claire quickly stood up and smoothed out her clothes with a panicked expression. She lowered her head and spoke in a submissive tone. "Caroline, you're back. Please, what you saw just now... Lucas and I aren't like that. We were just..." It was a clumsy explanation that made it seem as if Claire were the victim of a great misunderstanding. Caroline watched the performance with a look of pure sarcasm. The silence in the room made Claire's act feel increasingly awkward. Claire suddenly ran toward Caroline and grabbed her hand to continue her frantic explanation. "Caroline, please don't misunderstand. It really isn't what it looks like..." She stopped mid-sentence and looked Caroline up and down. She covered her mouth in feigned shock. "Caroline, why are you dressed like this? Where were you last night?" Lucas finally took a closer look at Caroline. She was wearing a man's suit jacket over a short nightgown. She looked exhausted and she clearly appeared as if she had spent the night away from home. His pride flared because Caroline was still his fiancĂ©e in name, yet she had been out fooling around behind his back. "Caroline, where were you last night?" Lucas asked, his face filled with anger. Caroline's gaze was indifferent. She did not answer him immediately like the original owner used to do. Instead, she asked him a cold question. "That's strange. I didn't ask where the two of you were last night, so why are you questioning me?" "Caroline, I wasn't feeling well last night and Lucas took me to the hospital. Nothing happened between us, so please do not get the wrong idea," Claire explained in a soft and gentle voice. Caroline shoved her away. "Don't touch me. You're filthy." Claire cried out as she lost her balance and fell onto the floor. "Claire!" Lucas immediately rushed to her side and pulled her behind him for protection. He turned to Caroline with a look of pure rage. "Caroline. How can you be so wicked? If you have a problem, take it out on me." Claire hid behind Lucas and sobbed quietly. "Caroline, even if you are angry with me, you shouldn't treat yourself so poorly. How could you be so reckless with your reputation?" She played the part of a heartbroken sister perfectly. Caroline thought it was a shame that she wasn't an actress. Caroline let out a cold laugh. "Even if I were reckless, I still wouldn't be as bad as someone who enjoys stealing another person's fiancĂ©." Lucas tightened his grip on Claire and glared at Caroline. "Enough. Claire is the only woman I will ever marry. Stop making a scene. "You need to find a time to talk to my family and make it clear that our engagement is over. From now on, we will have nothing to do with each other." Caroline felt a sudden, sharp pain in her chest. She frowned that she knew this was the original owner's lingering emotions affecting her. She looked at Lucas and asked, "What is your reason?" Lucas snorted with contempt. "Why do I need a reason? Our relationship has always been your one-sided obsession. "Furthermore, my family is from high society, and the woman I marry must be a proper lady. The scar on your face is hideous. Do you really expect me to let you embarrass my family?" Caroline sneered inwardly. According to the original owner's memories, that scar was a result of her protecting Lucas during a car accident. She had been cut by flying glass while she shielded him. At the time, Lucas had promised that he would never hold the scar against her, yet he had turned around and pledged his loyalty to Claire instead. "Lucas, please don't talk to Caroline like that," Claire said while she leaned triumphantly against him. She looked at Caroline with a provocative smirk. She expected Caroline to break down in tears and beg for him to stay because that was her usual behavior. Everyone in Encevale knew that the ugly daughter of the Shaw family was obsessed with Lucas. Caroline would do anything just to be with him. Lucas hated her persistence more than anything else; she usually lost the argument the moment she started crying. Caroline gave them both a brief, dismissive glance. Her eyes were clear and cold. Lucas was momentarily stunned because he saw a hint of disdain in her gaze. She nodded calmly. "Fine. We can do it this afternoon. I will go with you to end the engagement." "Caroline, please don't be too sad. You... wait, what did you say? You agree to end the engagement?" Claire's voice cracked in surprise. This was not the reaction she had anticipated. She expected Caroline to scream, cry, or complain about her years of wasted devotion. She didn't understand why Caroline was agreeing so easily. Caroline nodded again. "Do I need to repeat myself? I agree to end the engagement this afternoon." Chapter 4 Self-Respect Lucas was shocked. "What? What did you just say? Caroline, I'm not in the mood for jokes." In the past, the mere mention of ending the engagement would send Caroline into a fit of tears. She would cling to him with a pathetic, aggrieved expression that always left him feeling incredibly annoyed. Although she was usually timid and submissive, she had always been stubborn when it came to Lucas. Furthermore, their mothers had been best friends. Lucas's mother refused to give up on the engagement, which was why the matter had dragged on for so many years without a resolution. Caroline finally looked him directly in the eye. "Are you deaf? Which part of that sounded like a joke? If you're busy this afternoon, we can do it tomorrow. I'm flexible, so the choice is yours." Claire was absolutely stunned. She couldn't believe Caroline actually had the nerve to ask Lucas if he was deaf. Claire wondered if the man she had arranged for the previous night had driven Caroline insane. It seemed as if Caroline no longer cared about the consequences of her words. Lucas felt as if he had been punched in the gut for the first time in his life. He couldn't help but wonder if Caroline was actually done chasing him. "Caroline, do you even realize what you're saying?" Lucas asked. Caroline gave a careless nod. "I know exactly what I'm saying. We are ending the engagement. From now on, our personal lives have nothing to do with each other." "If we end this, you won't have a single reason to bother me ever again." Lucas reminded her in a heavy tone. He simply didn't believe that she truly wanted to let him go. Caroline let out a soft "okay" before she added, "That is exactly what I'm hoping for." Lucas felt a sudden tightness in his chest. Caroline was different now. She was no longer the little girl who used to follow him around like a shadow. Caroline didn't care what he was thinking. She had spent the previous night climbing through windows and fighting off the effects of drugs. She was exhausted and only wanted to change her clothes so she could get some sleep. As she turned to head upstairs, Lucas called out to her again. He put on a disappointed and fatherly act. "Caroline, a girl's most important trait is self-love. Even if we can't be together, you still need to learn some self-respect." Caroline crossed her arms and let out a sharp laugh. "Thanks for the concern, but I'm doing just fine. Well, my new man is taller than you, more handsome than you, and much better in bed. "He is in peak physical condition and I was more than happy to give myself to him. Now, I'm tired and needs to sleep. "And I suggest the two of you find a private room for your flirting. If Grandpa sees you groping each other in the living room like this, he might have a heart attack." Caroline delivered the words and turned to head upstairs. She slammed her bedroom door shut with a loud bang. Claire stood there in a daze before she turned to Lucas and bit her lip. "Lucas, why would she say those things? She said he was in better shape than you, but didn't you tell me that you never touched her?" Lucas immediately pulled Claire into his arms to reassure her. "Claire, of course I never touched her. How could I ever do that? You're the only one I love." Claire nodded while she sobbed. "I believe you, but it's all my fault that Caroline has become like this. It's all because of me." Lucas felt a wave of sympathy for her. He thought to himself, 'Claire has always been so kind and understanding.' ***** In the penthouse of the Summit Apartments, Ethan sat behind a massive solid wood desk and tapped the surface. "Where is she?" Oliver shrugged his shoulders. "She's gone. When the nurse went in to check on her this morning, the bed was already empty." Ethan shot Oliver a look of pure disdain. "You couldn't even keep track of one injured patient?" Before Oliver could defend himself, Ethan's phone rang. He picked it up and heard his father's steady voice. "There is a dinner at the Shaw residence tonight. We owe them a favor, so I want you to go in my place." Ethan leaned back in his black leather chair. "Where is your wife?" he asked indifferently. "Don't speak about your mother that way," Ethan's father, William Hunter, scolded him. "Mom locked me in a hotel room last night," Ethan said as he reported her actions directly. "She did it because a fortune-teller told her I was destined for a romantic encounter." William went silent for a moment before he spoke. "I will handle it. Just make sure you attend the party." "Fine," Ethan said and hung up the phone. Oliver clicked his tongue. "I can't believe the great CEO of the Hunter Group is actually snitching to his dad." Ethan stood up and went into the living room to grab his suit jacket. "The family rule is simple. Only a woman's own man should be the one to handle her." "Why are you changing?" Oliver asked as he followed him out. Ethan finished putting on his tie. "I'm going to the office. You are coming with me to the party tonight. We will say hello to the Shaw family and then leave immediately so we don't have to deal with the socializing." Oliver leaned against the wall and adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses. He put on a dramatic, hesitant expression while he watched Ethan finish his tie. "Ethan, are you asking me to be your date for the night?" Ethan looked at him without changing his expression. "You can wear a dress if you want. I'll have Nixon deliver one to you." Oliver sighed. He had never won a single argument against Ethan when it came to being sharp-tongued. ***** Back at the Shaw residence, Caroline finally found some peace. She lay on her bed and fell into a deep sleep. When she heard a sudden movement nearby, her instincts kicked in and she lunged forward. She grabbed the intruder by the throat and her eyes glowed with a terrifying intensity in the dim room. "Who are you?" "Miss... Miss Caroline..." The servant was paralyzed with fear by the reaction. The title pulled Caroline back to reality and she remembered that she was no longer an assassin. She let go of the servant's throat and awkwardly shook her hands. "I've been watching too many action movies. Did you need something?" The servant turned on the light and spoke. "Evelyn is looking for you." Caroline froze. "Evelyn?" She took a moment to process the words. She realized "Evelyn" was her stepmother, Evelyn Shaw. Evelyn was a snake who pretended to care for Caroline to maintain a good reputation, but she secretly wanted Caroline kicked out of the house so she wouldn't have to share the family fortune. Caroline washed up and changed into decent clothes before she headed downstairs. Rows of formal dresses were lined up in the living room. Claire was walking back and forth between them because she wanted to find something unique that would make her the center of attention that night. When she saw Caroline, Evelyn immediately waved her over with a warm smile. "Caroline, come here. The stylist sent over the dress, so you should pick one for the party tonight." Caroline gave her a cold, insincere smile. "Sure. Thank you, Evelyn." Caroline walked around the dresses and picked up a light purple gown to hold against herself. Evelyn immediately began to praise her. "This color really suits you. It's just a shame that the scar on your face is so noticeable..." Caroline then picked up a blue dress. Evelyn nodded and added, "This one is nice too, but it doesn't look like it will hide the flaws on your face." Caroline sneered inwardly. She knew this was exactly how Evelyn had chipped away at the original owner's confidence over the years. She constantly reminded her that she had a hideous scar on her face. Combined with the rejection from Lucas and the constant bullying from Claire, it was no wonder the original Caroline had been pushed into death. Claire gave a mocking laugh. "Caroline, just pick anything. Do you really expect a dress to cover your face and hide that scar?" "Claire, don't speak to Caroline like that," Evelyn said with a smirk. She pretended to defend Caroline, but she didn't even bother to look in her direction. Chapter 5 Why Did You Hit Me? Caroline turned around to look at her, her eyes completely indifferent. "What did you say?" "I said, as long as you go to the party, everyone will see the scar on your face. Not to mention the party, aren't you mocked every single time you step out of the house? "You should have gotten used to it by now, right?" The ridicule in Claire's eyes was glaring. Claire possessed an innocent, harmless face, but the venomous mockery in her eyes was undisguised. She simply couldn't stomach Caroline's sudden arrogance and defiance today. In Claire's eyes, Caroline should spend her entire life being timid, submissive, and at the mercy of the Shaw family. Instead, Caroline raised her hand and delivered a loud slap right across her face, asking coldly, "Say that again?" "Ah!" Caught completely off guard by the sudden slap, Claire shrieked in pain. "Caroline, how could you hit Claire?" Evelyn instantly screamed. "Claire is your father's favorite. Aren't you afraid of making him furious by putting your hands on her?" Right at that perfect moment, Henry Shaw walked in. "What is all this commotion about now?" he demanded. Claire immediately threw herself into Henry's arms, weeping pitifully. "Daddy." Evelyn also sighed with a deeply aggrieved expression. "Honey, it's my fault. I failed to discipline the children properly." "I slapped her," Caroline admitted bluntly, without a hint of hesitation. Henry shouted, "Caroline. How..." "She mocked the scar on my face, so I hit her. Do you think I went too far, Father?" Caroline looked directly into Henry's eyes and challenged him. "Surely you don't think my face has always looked like this since birth? Do you even remember what I looked like as a child?" she added. Henry froze. Of course he remembered. Caroline had been innocent and adorable as a young girl. If she hadn't protected Lucas during that car accident, her face would never have been ruined. Lately, things hadn't been going well at work, and Henry snapped irritably, "Enough. You can't even pick out a dress without causing a scene. Is there ever a single day of peace in this house?" With that, he turned and stomped upstairs. Claire stamped her foot in frustration. "Daddy." Caroline picked up the blue dress and said smoothly, "I'll take this one. I'm done choosing." Carrying the dress, she followed behind Henry and returned to her own room. Claire was growing anxious. Caroline had always been so timid and spineless, yet today she actually dared to raise her hand against her. Worse, she had managed to sway Henry into dropping the matter with just a few choice words. Since Caroline was still technically bound by the engagement to Lucas, Claire believed that Caroline must be desperate to marry into his family as soon as possible. 'No, I can't let Caroline steal the spotlight. Otherwise, all the effort I put into stealing Lucas away would go to waste.' Claire began plotting secretly in her mind. At lunch, Caroline finally faced the entire family. Theo Shaw sat at the head of the table, exuding a natural aura of authority. Henry sat right next to him, with Evelyn and Claire beside them. Caroline sat alone on the opposite side, quietly sipping her soup. Theo spoke up. "The Hunter family will be attending tonight's party. Make sure you entertain them well and don't let anything go wrong." "Don't worry, Theo. Everything for the party has already been perfectly arranged," Evelyn replied, looking every bit the virtuous housewife. Claire eagerly chimed in, "Don't worry, Grandpa. When Lucas and I had dinner yesterday, he mentioned that the Lewis Group has business dealings with the Hunter Group. "He'll definitely help entertain them tonight. Caroline knows about it too, right? Lucas is currently negotiating a project with the Hunters." Caroline raised an eyebrow. 'How on earth could I know? Would Lucas ever share such matters with the original Caroline? Claire is clearly trying to assert dominance and humiliate me.' At this point, Claire feigned panic, covering her mouth as she said awkwardly, "Wait, you don't know? My apologies, I talk too much." Caroline let out a cold sneer. "If you know you talk too much, then shut your mouth." "Caroline, how can you speak to Claire like that?" Henry demanded sharply. Caroline smiled faintly, set down her fork, and looked directly at Claire. "Claire, as your older sister, let me give you a piece of advice: have some shame. "Given your awkward position, it would be best for you to keep your distance from Lucas." Claire instantly put on a victimized expression, turning tearful eyes toward Caroline. "Caroline, how am I being shameless?" Evelyn quickly wrapped an arm around her daughter's shoulders and spoke softly to Caroline, "Caroline, Claire is your sister. How can you say something so harsh?" Caroline arched an eyebrow at her. "Since you don't seem to know, let me remind you. What right do you have to have dinner with Lucas? Don't you know he's my fiancĂ©?" "But you two are about to break off the engagement anyway," Claire muttered, carefully stealing a glance at Theo's expression to gauge his reaction. Henry had silently approved of calling off the engagement. He thought highly of the Lewis family and fully supported Claire dating Lucas. However, Theo's stance on the matter had always remained ambiguous. Caroline scoffed coldly. "Regardless of whether we call off the engagement or if there's any affection left, we are still legally engaged right now. He is still your future brother-in-law. "Shouldn't you maintain a proper distance? If word gets out that you're tangled up with your own future brother-in-law, what would people think of our family?" "I..." "Alright, I'm full. Enjoy the rest of your meal." Caroline stood up, gave a slight nod to Theo, and walked out of the dining room. Theo was momentarily stunned. That commanding presence just now didn't seem like the Caroline he knew at all. Claire turned a tearful gaze toward her father. "Daddy, Caroline is..." Before she could finish her sentence, Theo cleared his throat and intervened, "Enough. Caroline is right. As long as the engagement hasn't been officially broken off, it's only proper to keep a respectful distance." Claire's eyes widened in sheer disbelief. She couldn't believe Theo was actually taking Caroline's side. It seemed she had seriously underestimated Caroline, letting her walk all over her and flaunt her authority. ***** Before the party, Caroline deftly changed into her dress. Out of old habits from her days as an assassin, where she frequently hid knives and firearms inside her formal wear, she tugged at the hem and checked the waistband. To her surprise, the moment she applied a bit of pressure, the strapless dress slipped right off her body. Caroline quickly caught it. Thank goodness she was still in her room; if this had happened during the actual party, the humiliation would have been catastrophic. She took off the dress to inspect it thoroughly. The stitching along the waistline had clearly been tampered with. While it looked completely normal at a glance, the slightest bit of tension would cause the threads to snap. There was no need to guess who was responsible; this was definitely Claire's handy work. Caroline asked a servant for a sewing kit and meticulously repaired the seams. She then swapped out the waistband for one of the same color, ensuring it wouldn't fail again before she finally felt satisfied. Once the dress was safely secured, she slipped quietly into Claire's room. Replicating the exact sabotage that had been inflicted on her own dress, she carefully loosened a few critical stitches on Claire's dress before slipping away unnoticed. When the party started, Caroline applied some light makeup and headed downstairs. She immediately spotted Claire, flitting about like a social butterfly, before throwing herself into Lucas's arms and dragging him toward a guest room in a secluded corner, shutting the door tightly behind them. Meanwhile, outside the villa, a sleek, dark Bentley pulled up to the entrance, drawing a chorus of gasps from the arriving guests. "Is that the Hunter family's car?" "The Shaw family must have immense influence to actually pull the Hunters here." "They are the wealthiest family in Encevale. If anyone can form a connection with the Hunters, they'll be set for life." Nixon stepped out of the vehicle and opened the door for Ethan. "Sir, we have arrived." Ethan checked his watch. Beside him, Oliver gave him a playful nudge. "I've always heard the Shaw family's third daughter is the prettiest girl in the whole Encevale. want to go in and see for yourself?" Ethan stepped out of the car, his voice completely indifferent. "Not interested." Chapter 6 The Man From Last Night As soon as Ethan and Oliver stepped into the room, they became the undisputed center of gravity. Although many in the room coveted the Hunter family's immense power and status, Ethan's reputation for being "cold and unreachable" was so well-known that no one dared to actually approach him. Ethan walked straight toward Henry and greeted him simply: "Mr. Shaw." That single sentence drew countless looks of shock. Ethan never showed his face at ordinary party, yet here he was, not only attending but personally greeting Henry. This was a huge honor for the Shaw family. "Mr. Hunter, you're here." Henry was pleasantly surprised. It was his first time meeting Ethan in person, and his aura was truly intimidating. Ethan nodded slightly. "Regarding the matter last time, thank you for your help, Mr. Shaw. I came specifically to express my gratitude." "It was nothing, just a small favor." Henry laughed, beaming. "Please, make yourselves at home. I'll go to the back and bring my father out to meet you." "Please proceed." After Henry left, a sudden gasp erupted from the crowd. Ethan and Oliver followed the collective gaze toward the staircase. A beautiful woman in a light blue dress was descending. She had a slender, graceful figure, with her long hair slightly curled and swept to the right side. Her exposed left face was delicate, her features exquisite, and her eyes were bright. Oliver almost choked on his wine. "Isn't that the girl..." Before his words could leave his mouth, Ethan silenced him with a single sharp look. Caroline looked down and immediately spotted Ethan, whose presence stood out even in this crowd. Seeing the peerless man she had shared a "life-and-death" moment with the night before, her foot slipped, and she nearly missed a step. With his legs, Ethan moved instantly, catching Caroline before she could fall face-first in front of everyone. Looking at Ethan's handsome face, Caroline smiled playfully and whispered, "Hey handsome, what a coincidence." Before Ethan could respond, Lucas's angry voice cut through the air. "Caroline, what do you think you're doing?" Caroline turned to see Lucas looking like he had been cheated on. She leaned casually toward Ethan and asked, "What did I do?" "Claire told me you went out drinking with a man last night, and I didn't believe her. But now you're acting so intimate with someone else in public. "I see now that your 'deep affection' for me was all an act. We haven't even broken off the engagement yet, and you..." Lucas's face turned livid. He didn't love Caroline, but she had been his shadow since they were kids. Even if they were about to break up, he couldn't stand her finding a replacement so quickly. Claire tugged at Lucas's sleeve, feigning a low tone. "Lucas, don't say anymore. Caroline already explained what happened last night. It's just..." Ethan suddenly interrupted, "Last night? What did she say?" Seeing Ethan address her, Claire was flattered. She put on a frightened, "hard-to-discuss" expression and stammered, "Caroline said that last night, she gave herself to another man." Caroline coughed loudly, hoping this idiot Claire would stop her self-righteous nonsense. But Lucas sneered, "What are you coughing for? You had the nerve to do it, but not the nerve to say it? Didn't you say it yourself? "That the man was strong and vigorous? That he was well-endowed and good in bed?" Oliver couldn't hold it in; he sprayed his wine everywhere. Ethan tilted his head to look at Caroline, asking leisurely, "Such a high evaluation, huh?" Caroline's face turned bright red. She glared at Lucas and snapped, "Lucas, you idiot." She grabbed Ethan by the arm and dragged him out of the ballroom into the garden outside. Ethan let her pull him away; it was the first time a woman had ever grabbed his hand like this, and surprisingly, he didn't feel any revulsion. Looking at her hurrying in front of him, Ethan noticed her left ear was bright red. He found it rather amusing. As they reached the garden, Caroline tripped. Ethan pulled her back, and she collided right into his hard chest. The impact made her nose ache, and tears instantly welled up in her eyes. Ethan leaned against a pillar, his red wine still perfectly still in his glass. He raised an eyebrow. "You're the one who ran into me. Why are you crying?" "This is a physiological response," Caroline growled. Ethan nodded and asked, "So, the man you spent the night with is 'strong and vigorous' and 'well-endowed'." "Shut up," Caroline slapped her hand over Ethan's mouth. Her warm hand pressed against his thin lips. Ethan's brow twitched slightly, but there was no sign of disgust. He whispered against her palm, "The Miss Shaw I met last night was so calm and composed. I didn't expect those were your inner thoughts." Caroline rolled her eyes and said, "I said that just to piss off Lucas. You actually believed it?" Ethan nodded solemnly. "I believe it." Since it was a compliment to him, he had no reason not to believe it. Caroline looked at him. "Look, handsome, I—" "Ethan Hunter." "What?" Caroline blinked. "My name. Ethan Hunter," he said, introducing himself properly for the first time. Caroline nodded. "Fine, Mr. Hunter. Last night you saved me and found me a doctor. I'm very grateful, and I—" "So, when do you plan to repay me with actual action?" For some reason, Ethan was becoming incredibly interested in her. Caroline scratched her head. "Well, how about tomorrow? I'll treat you to a meal then." "Deal." Getting a date with her actually made Ethan feel a hint of genuine happiness. Caroline breathed a sigh of relief. "Then let's go back? Your friend is probably waiting." She turned to leave first, but a sharp pain in her scalp made her wince. "Don't move," Ethan said, pulling her back. "Your hair is caught." Caroline backed up, slightly bending her knees. She kept her head down while Ethan worked on the knot between her hair and his button. From her position, she could only see the bottom of his tie. "Nice tie," she muttered. "Thanks," Ethan replied. In a rare move, he proactively kept the conversation going. "What are we eating tomorrow?" "I don't know, haven't thought about it yet. Is it untangled? My knees are getting sore." "Almost." "Why don't we just find some scissors and cut the hair?" "Do you think I carry scissors on me?" Caroline could only keep her head down in defeat. At that moment, Oliver stumbled into the garden looking for them. "Ethan, you—" Seeing their intimate posture, Oliver was so shocked that his mouth fell wide open.

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The queen bee of our school watched *Terrifier* and got this brilliant idea. She wanted to know what it felt like to be hunted by a real killer. Connor grew up on my block. He didn't hesitate. He grabbed a few guys from the locker room and knocked me out cold. They used fake blood and Halloween props. Turned me into a monster. Their little gift for Harper. "Relax. It's just a prank. She's tough. She'll be fine." "Besides, she does whatever I say. She'll play along." I woke up with my face painted into something unrecognizable. Industrial zip ties cut into my wrists and ankles. Silver duct tape sealed my mouth shut. Then they shoved me in front of Harper. She screamed. Then she grabbed a steel folding chair. The kind they stack in the auditorium for school assemblies. She swung it into me. Once. Twice. Three times. More than a dozen. My bones shattered. My face caved in. The last thing I heard through the fog was Connor's panicked voice. "It was a joke! Maya, stop faking it. Get up!" I didn't get up. I spent three months in the Memorial Hospital ICU. Machines kept me breathing. But I wasn't the same girl anymore. And Connor? He lost his mind completely. *** That afternoon, the AP Physics classroom buzzed with something electric. Harper, the most popular girl in school, had just finished watching the latest *Terrifier* reboot. She leaned against Connor's desk, all soft edges and calculated sweetness. She wore an expensive Ralph Lauren sweater. Her fingers twisted through blonde hair. Her voice dripped with that fake-helpless tone. Part pout. Part invitation. "Connor, I really want to know what it feels like. Being that scared. In real life." She paused. Something sharp flickered behind her eyes. "Those CGI effects are so boring. Zero adrenaline." Connor sat up. His quarterback's shoulders squared. The corner of his mouth curved into that familiar smirk. His I've-got-a-genius-idea look. "Easy. I got you." His eyes swept the room. They passed over every corner, every face. They landed on me without surprise. I was hunched over my physics problem set. The one for MIT early admission prep. My pen scratched across scratch paper. "Maya!" His voice cut through the room. "Get over here." I looked up. My fingers were numb from gripping the pen too long. I shook them out and stood. I always went when Connor called. Since we were kids. When he broke someone's bike and blamed me in grade school. When I wrote his history papers in high school. It was reflex now. Burned into my bones. "What's up?" I asked. I tightened my ponytail without thinking. Connor leaned back in his chair. His arm draped over Harper's seat. Casual. Possessive. It stung more than I wanted to admit. "Prank idea. You'll help us out. Super simple. Just dress up like a monster and scare someone." I frowned. I glanced at the binder on my desk. "I need to study. AP Physics mock exam tomorrow." "Jesus. Just a minute." He cut me off. His voice carried that entitled edge. Star athlete. Untouchable. "You've always had my back." The football guys in their varsity jackets piled on. Tyler banged the desk, laughing. "Come on, Maya. Don't be a buzzkill." "Connor asked you himself." Jackson chimed in. "It's a Halloween-level gag. What's it gonna cost you, ten minutes?" Harper's voice came next. Soft. Sugary. "Nerd girl, just help us out. I really want to experience it." She leaned into Connor's shoulder as she said it. I looked at Connor's face. That expectant look. Blue eyes I'd known since we played in the dirt together as kids. Eyes that didn't allow refusal. I nodded. Like I always did. I didn't know that nod would destroy every last hope I had of escaping this neighborhood.They told me they needed Hollywood-level special effects makeup. Told me to wait in the drama club prop room. "Go ahead. We'll grab the fake blood." Connor said it like it was no......

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ARIA The key turns the lock with a soft click that sounds too loud in the quiet hallway. I'm practically vibrating with excitement as I push open the door to Marcus's apartment, my heels clicking against the hardwood floor. The promotion letter is still warm in my purse—Senior Director of Marketing at twenty-six. After years of caffeine-fueled nights, endless presentations, and fighting twice as hard to be taken seriously, I finally made it. And I can't wait to celebrate with Marcus. He’ll be proud. I know he will. He’ll kiss me, spin me around, and whisper that he always knew I could do it. The apartment is dark when I step inside, the faint scent of cedar and cologne wrapping around me. A single sliver of light leaks from beneath the bedroom door. My smile deepens. He’s home. I slip off my heels, tiptoeing across the hardwood floor. The diamond on my finger catches a ghost of light. two carats of carefully selected princess-cut diamonds. We chose it together three months ago. Our wedding is in eight weeks. Eight weeks until everything I’ve ever dreamed of becomes real. I reach for the bedroom door, with my heart full, and my mind already painting the moment I tell him. The feeling of his arms around me. His deep, throaty chuckle that does wonders in my body. The champagne we’ll open... A sound cuts through my thoughts. Low, rhythmic, and sexy. I stop breathing. It takes a second for my mind to catch up to my body to process what my ears already know but refuse to accept. No. No, it can’t be... My hand trembles as I reach for the doorknob. A voice inside me begs to turn around, to leave before everything changes. But my fingers keep moving, like they belong to someone else, pushing the door open. The scene before me moves in slow motion and all at once. Marcus... My Marcus is behind a woman bent over the edge of our bed. His hands grip her hips, hard and possessive, dragging her back against him with brutal rhythm. The air fills with the sound of skin meeting skin, obscene and unmistakable. My vision blurs, and my mind refuses to believe what my eyes see. The woman’s hair falls in long, dark waves, and it's a familiar wave, for a fact. No. Please, God—no. She turns her head. And I see my own face. Or rather...my twin sister’s. Vivienne. Her green eyes lock on mine. And then she smiles. Slow, deliberate, cruel smiles, that vicious curve of lips I've seen a thousand times when she's won something, taken something, or destroyed something that belongs to me. “Fuck me harder, baby,” she moans, voice dripping with mockery, not even bothering to look away from me or trying to act shocked. She's performing for me now. The sound pierces through me, and my lungs seize. I can’t move, think, or speak. Marcus doesn't stop. Not immediately. It takes him several more thrusts before he follows her gaze and sees me standing in the doorway. "Aria." His voice is flat. Not shocked or apologetic. Just... flat. Like I was a curious child who walked in on her parents going at it, and now they are disappointed in me for not playing elsewhere. The engagement ring suddenly feels like a chain that weighs a thousand pounds on my finger. "How long?" The words scrape out of my throat like broken glass. Vivienne laughs as she pushes herself up, completely shameless in her nakedness. Marcus pulls out of her and reaches for his pants, but there's no urgency or panic in his movements. Because this isn't a mistake. This isn't a moment of weakness. This is something else entirely. "How long?" I repeat, my voice breaking. "Does it matter?" Marcus asks, buttoning his pants with steady hands. Yes. Yes, it fucking matters. But I can't seem to make my mouth form the words. Vivienne wraps herself in Marcus's robe, the one I bought him for his birthday, and walks toward me. Every step is deliberate and calculated. She's always been like this. Always knew exactly how to wound me in the places that hurt most. "Want the truth, sister?" Her voice drips with false sweetness. I should leave, run. But I'm rooted to the spot, watching my life implode in real-time. Vivienne leans against the doorframe, so close I can smell her perfume. The same one I wear. The same one our mother bought us for our sixteenth birthday. "He was mine first." The words hit me like a physical blow. "What?" "Marcus." She gestures lazily toward him. "He was my boyfriend for eight months before you ever met him." No. That's not possible. We met at a networking event two years ago. He pursued me. He said... "The conference in Boston," Marcus says, and his voice is far gone from the sexy, throaty voice that pulled me to him. He sounds like he's presenting at a board meeting. "Where we 'met'? Vivienne told me you'd be there. Told me exactly where to stand so I'd 'accidentally' bump into you." The room tilts. I grab the doorframe for support. "She gave me everything," he continues. "Your favorite flowers. Your coffee order. The way you twist your hair when you're nervous. How you always wanted to wait for marriage because you thought it would mean something." The virgin comment lands like he knew it would. Heat floods my cheeks. Vivienne's smile sharpens. "You're so predictable, Aria. You always have been. The good daughter. The responsible one. The one who does everything right." "Why?" My voice breaks completely now. "Why would you..." "Because I'm sick of watching you have everything I deserve!" The words explode out of her. "You got the job I wanted. The respect I should have. Everyone loves perfect Aria, so smart, so accomplished, so genuine." She spits the last word like it's poison. "I'm your sister," I whisper. "Exactly." Her eyes flash. "My twin. We're supposed to be equal. But you've always had more. Not prettier...we're identical. Not smarter...I'm not stupid. But somehow, you always win." "So you decided to destroy me." "So I decided to bring you down from your high horse for once." She straightens, crossing her arms. "And it was so easy. God, Aria, you fell for every line. Every carefully crafted text message. Every manufactured 'spontaneous' date. Marcus played you perfectly." I look at Marcus, searching for any sign of the man I thought I knew. The man I thought I loved. "You were a job," he says simply. "A very lucrative job. You had the connections I needed. The respect in the industry. Dating you, getting engaged to you...it opened doors." "And destroying me?" I force the words out. "What did that open?" Vivienne answers instead. "My satisfaction. Finally, watching perfect Aria lose something. Watching you hurt the way I've hurt every time Mom and Dad praised your accomplishments while barely noticing mine." This isn't happening. This can't be happening. "The sex would have been decent," Marcus adds, and I want to vomit. "But you were always so hesitant. So worried about being perfect. Your sister, on the other hand..." Vivienne preens under his attention. Three years. Three years of my life with a man who was my sister's puppet. Who never loved me. Who was actively plotting my destruction while I was picking out wedding invitations and dreaming about our future? The promotion letter in my purse feels meaningless now. Everything feels meaningless. "Get out," Vivienne says, like this is her apartment. Like she has any right. I should say something cutting. Something that puts them both in their place. But my throat is closed and my eyes are burning, and all I can think is that I need to leave before I completely fall apart in front of them. So I do. I turn and walk out of the apartment on numb legs. Behind me, I hear Vivienne's laughter follow me down the hall.

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Prologue Broken promises ache as badly as hunger. Humiliation stings like getting lemon juice in a paper cut. This goes beyond that. This betrayal goes beyond the lies and expectations of what we are and what we've been raised to believe. It goes against everything that makes us what we are. No matter our rank. I watch from the terrace of the apartment I got for my mate and me when he returned from his alpha training last year. I had been so excited to see him after we spent our senior year apart. I gave up going to my dream school to stay here with him. Santiago Romano held me in his arms, sold me pretty lies, and loved me the way he had promised before leaving. A part of me knew that I would be discarded after the full moon fell on my sixteenth birthday, and I didn't shift. I spent days avoiding him, trying to deny that someone from a Beta bloodline as strong as mine would be reduced to nothing but a lowly omega. Everything had been perfect before that. We had met the day we both started at Artume Academy—two years after one of the cruellest rogue attacks in werewolf history. There were six hundred and eighty-seven casualties that night. I barely survived. I shouldn't have, but I did. I've never wished to have died there more than I wish it now. My goddess-given mate has chosen his Luna. It's being televised for the world to see that I wasn't anywhere near enough to stand beside him. His parents hand-picked his Luna to carry his name, his legacy, and his heirs. Poppy Turner is wearing my dream dress with a huge smile plastered on her face. Her arm is looped through my mate's, and the two of them look like the perfect match as they walk into the moon goddess temple for their official mating ceremony. I turn the TV off and look down at my phone to see the message he sent me just before arriving at the temple. Three little words that don't mean shit to me anymore. This is for the pack, he said. You'll be better protected. You can now study to be a surgeon without the responsibilities of a Luna. I'll never leave you. You're the one I love—my true mate. Lies. The sick part is that there's a part of me that would accept this. I'd be his mistress, watching him build that life that should be ours with her. There's a darker side that looks back to the night of the attack. The night I saved her from the rogues, while my family was fighting. While they were dying. I should have left her there to be torn apart. I want to leave here. Run away and never look back. I have the means for it. All I'd have to do is call my grandmother to tell her I've had enough. She'd come for me in an instant. I know she would. But it wouldn't solve anything, and I'd be leaving everything I've worked so hard to obtain behind. There are three months left until the end of the semester. I'd lose all my credits, and my GPA would drop if I left now. It's all I have left. This career is the only thing that is going to keep me going for a while because this wound, like the loss of my family, it's going to take some time to heal. I spend the rest of my night reviewing my notes for my upcoming exam. It's almost eight when my phone rings. I reach for it to see my Grandmother's name and a picture of the two of us at my graduation last year. "Hey, GG," I answer. "Don't hey, GG, me young lady," she says in her thick Swedish accent. "What is the meaning of this, Sophia?" "I don't know," I answer honestly. "Did he reject you properly?" she demands. "No, he doesn't want to. He said that she'd be his Luna only in name." "I want you to come live with me, Sophia. You need not be where you are not welcome. Why haven't you called to let me know what's happening? I would have sent for you immediately," her tone is urgent. "Because you were on business for the King. I didn't want to bother you with something so trivial," I shut my laptop and close my notebook. "Trivial? My love, this is not something to be taken lightly. You are in pain. It will get worse once you reject him. It'll feel like a part of your soul is being torn away." "Please, don't make me feel worse than I already do," I sigh. "I can't just gather my things to leave. I have school and work. I'm not just his discarded mate. I'm more than just a floormat. This is why I didn't call you: I knew you'd want to come here immediately, and I don't want to lose myself over this. Leaving is a last resort." "Leaving?" I look up to see Santiago standing in the doorway of my home office, still dressed in his ceremonial suit. "GG, I have to go." I look away. "I love you." "Sophia-" I hang up before she can say anything else. "What do you mean you're leaving as a last resort?" he storms into the room and pulls my chair away from the desk to make me look up at him. I don't meet his gaze. "I told you that she means nothing to me. You're my mate. You're not going anywhere." I don't answer him. I push him away when her scent hits me. It's all over him. "I don't want you here right now. You're tainting my space with her scent. I can barely stand to look at you," I say calmly. "You're being so fucking dramatic, right now. I didn't have a choice, Soph. I'm not doing this to hurt you. I came home to you. You're my mate. You're the one I'm in love with. This is for our pack. You're turning your back on me to hurt me. You're acting as if I were the one at fault here," he growls. I cry out when he grabs my arm and spins me around to face him. "You're not leaving me. There is not a single fucking place in this world you can go where I won't find you. "You run, and you're only going to be making things worse for me," he grips both my arms with too much force. "You're hurting me," I try to pull away. He shoves me hard. Stumble back, hitting my head on the doorknob. The sting blinds me for a moment, but I don't have enough time to process it. "Look what you made me do," he says, dropping to the floor beside me. His hand presses on the spot I just banged against the doorknob. "Soph, I didn't mean to. I panicked." "Get away from me," I manage to cry out. His hand tightens around my throat. "You're not leaving me," he pulls me into him. His eyes are bright red, and his canines are out. "Say it. Say you're going to stay, Sophia." He leans into me, and for a second, my heart races when his teeth graze the curve where my neck and shoulder meet. The place he's told me wants to mark me. But he pulls away to cup my face to make sure I'm looking back at him. I've been in love with this boy since the first time I set eyes on him when I was fourteen years old. I thought I knew him. All of him. But the person in front of me is not the man I thought he was becoming. I don't recognise him at all. All I can do is stare back at him, fear and disbelief in my eyes. "Say it!" he shouts at the top of his lungs, making me jump. "I'm going to stay," I choke out. The lie tastes rancid on my tongue. "You can't leave," his wolf retreats, and I stare at his baby blue eyes as they fill with tears. "You can't leave me. I need you. I need you, Sophia. And you need me. Only I can protect you. You're mine." 1 Everyone is staring at me when I walk into my office after my classes are done. I can feel their gazes on my skin as I hurry over to the elevator. When I get to the maternity floor, I rush into the locker room to get ready for my shift. "Soph?" I look back at my best friend, Poppy's half sister. She's the last person I want to see right now, but there's not much I can do about it since we have the same shift. "Hey, Lieza," I greet her. The pitiful expression on her face hurts. "Don't." "This is awkward," she says, scratching the back of her ear nervously. "But the alpha sent roses." "What?" I ask, confused. I locked myself in the home office and slept on my giant bean bag last night. When I woke up, he was gone. He slept in the apartment. The bed had been undone, and his suit was on the floor, where he took it off, expecting me to clean it up. I would have left it there if I didn't hate having a messy room. I threw it away on my way out of the building. I finish putting my things away and follow her out. On the reception desk are five massive bouquets of roses and sunflowers. The nurses are all cooing over them. "Here, they came with this," Lieza says, holding up a hot-pink envelope. He wrote my name on it by hand. "These are so beautiful," Layla, one of the ultrasound techs, smiles at me. "You guys can have them," I say, going over to my computer. "I don't care for flowers." "They were a gift from your mate," Kennedy reminds me. "I don't have a mate," I say. Putting it out there hits me hard like getting mauled by a rogue after having watched it tear my brother to pieces seconds before. They don't say anything, but they understand, and the flowers disappear. I go about my day as usual, then head home after my shift. His car is here when I arrive. I don't park; I head back out right away. I need some time away from him—time to piece together my thoughts. Artume General Hospital is located near the main strip, where tourists frequently gather. The restaurants and stores are all open late. I have dinner at my favorite Korean BBQ spot and keep to myself, not wanting to draw any attention. As I have my dinner, I can't help but think about the night I found out I wasn't worthy of having a wolf. It was a night a lot like this one. My grandmother was sitting behind me in our backyard as the sun came up. It marked the night of the full moon in my birth month, and nothing happened. I didn't feel any different, and I didn't hear the sound of my wolf's spirit. "It could be late because of the trauma from the attack," she said, crouching down in front of me. I couldn't bring myself to look up at her. "Go back to school on Monday, and we'll meet again next month. I'll book an appointment for you later today. Go to bed." There's never been an omega in my bloodline. Ever. It was why the Helvigs were accepted into the city ranking system. My father had made a name for himself before he met my mother, who is from here. My grandmother encouraged him to relocate so he would have better opportunities. My body was shaking. All I could think was, what am I going to say to Santiago? How will his family react to me being what I am? They don't have to say it for me to know what was happening. I knew what was happening. I have been deemed an unworthy vessel. My phone pinged as if my thoughts summoned him. His name and our picture pop up on the screen with the voice memo. "I'm looking forward to seeing you on Monday. I love you." There is a tiny chance that my wolf is late because of the surgeries I had after the attack. I was twelve. That was almost seven years ago. I couldn't bring myself to open the following message, let alone reply. I dry my hair and curl up under the blankets. Sleep didn't come, but after a few hours, my grandmother came in to tell me that I have an appointment to get checked out. I got dressed, and we headed over to the clinic. I'm sure she's paid the doctor and the staff to keep all of this quiet. "Hey, Sophie," Dr. Valkrie greeted me the way she used to when I first met her. We all thought I was going to die then, and being an omega in my family has felt just like that. "Hey," I greeted her quietly. "Okay," she took a deep breath and smiled. She glanced over at my Grandmother, and it's all it took for her to leave the two of us alone. "There are a lot of reasons why your wolf is a little late. Have you been stressed lately? Anything you want to tell me before I start probing?" "A little," I nodded. "I found my mate, or rather, he found me." "Congratulations," she smiled. "Why would this be stressful for you? This is a good thing." "He's the next alpha of the city," I whisper. She tensed up, and I knew exactly what she was thinking. I had been thinking about it all night. Alpha and Luna Romano are not going to like that. Luna Romano is Alpha Romano's chosen mate. No one really knows what happened to their true mates or if they ever had one at all. Dr. Valkrie leans forward to hug me. She sniffs me and then sits back. "You've mated with him," she states knowingly. I nod. "We can start there, but I have to be honest with you. If being with your mate doesn't bring her out, the possibility that you are an omega is high. It can be due to all the damage that was done in the attack-" "That's not what I want to hear," I cried. "I know. I know, Soph. The only way that this can move forward is probably if he marks you, but even then, the chances of the wolf you turn into being a higher rank are low. You have to drop combat training. "You have to tell him because if you lie, it's going to look very bad on you. I'm going to take some blood samples to ensure everything is okay. But I don't want you to get your hopes up. Okay?" I couldn't answer her. I swallow the knot in my throat and let her take the blood sample. I spent the rest of my weekend alone in my room. "Come down," my grandmother ordered on Sunday afternoon. She has her luggage ready, which means she'll be going back to Blackstone—lycan domain. "Thank you for coming, Grandma," I said. She let out a heavy sigh and tilted my head up. "You survived one of the most gruesome attacks in our history, little one. You gave up a part of you to ensure that justice was served to avenge your family. Don't let anyone take that from you. Do you understand?" "Yes," I choked out, but I didn't believe it. "Come," she opened the door that led into the garage. I walk in with her. Inside is a cobalt blue Volkswagen Beetle convertible. "You mother had this arranged from the moment she found out she was having a girl. "Helvig women are rare. Unfortunately, it has always been the men who have taken the glory in our bloodline. So, we were very excited when you were born. Finally, a little girl we can all dote on. Take care of it. Yes?" "Thank you," I nodded and wrapped my arms around her. Grandma has always had an icy aura about her. I was under the impression that she hated my mother and me. Perhaps it's not hate, but the lingering coldness of having to serve under the Lycan King. Grandma Zaraphine is about four or five inches shorter than I am. Her hair is black, highlighted by the grays and whites growing out. She doesn't look old, but her eyes give away her age. She's always been very elegant and refined. I wanted to be just like her. It was why I gave up on the medical program and joined the combat team at the start of my training. I started to cry again, and for the first time, she tightened her hold on me. I don't know how long we stayed this way, but when she finally pulled away, she wiped away my tears. She stared at me for a bit before letting me go. "Things will change for you, Little one. Drastically. If you need me to pick you up, call me. Do not hesitate. Do you understand? You are still a Helvig, and I will not allow you to be disrespected in any way. If I am unable to come personally, I will send someone on my behalf. Okay?" "Okay," I nodded. "I must be going. Try to keep this to yourself for as long as you can." "I can't," I inform her. "Why not?" "Santiago is my mate," I confessed. She inhaled deeply and pulled me into her again. "You call me immediately if you need me, Sophia. Do you understand?" "Yes," "I must go. I promised my general I'd be back before sundown. My heart stays here with you, Granddaughter. As always." "Be safe," I nod. I unlocked the car and climbed inside. It smelled brand new. Like that night, I sit here not knowing what to do. I can feel my phone buzzing in my pocket, but I don't have the energy to reach for it. I shut my eyes, needing a moment of peace. Anything to get my head out of the thoughts attacking the very essence of my soul. I am unworthy. There was no wolf spirit for me and no mate. 2 The smell of freshly made food greets me when I arrive at my apartment. I walk in to find Luna Romano in my kitchen and Santiago setting up the table. I look between the two of them, knowing that they're going to ambush me over what happened last night. I didn't think that my mate was a little bitch boy that needed his mommy to fix his life for him, but then again, he ended up marrying the woman she picked for him. "Sophia," she beams with way too much enthusiasm for my liking. "It's a little late for you to be out and about on your own, isn't it?" I stare at her, not knowing how to answer that. How dare she come into my home and say anything against me? She has no right, not even as the Luna of the City. I hold my tongue this once because, despite the shit show she's turned my life into, I once respected this woman almost the same way I respected my own mother. I kick my shoes off, and I head to my room. "Dinner will be ready in a bit," Santiago blocks me. "I already had dinner, thank you," I say, rolling my eyes and trying to get past him. He grips my arm in the same spot he had last night, pressing his fingers into the bruises I already have. I try to pull my arm out of his grip, but he only tightens it. I look up at him, wishing I had the strength to hurt him back with my entire existence. "Get cleaned up for dinner, Baby. My mom made us dinner. Take this off," he says sternly, motioning my scrubs. The two of us stare at one another for a long time before he releases me. I glance back at his mother to see her smiling proudly at his actions. She doesn't meet my gaze, and I don't argue. I rush into my bathroom as my heart beats faster than it ever has. I reach for my phone immediately and turn on the water. "I've been so worried about you," my Grandmother answers right away. "GG, Luna Romano is here," I try my best not to cry. "I don't feel safe." "All right," she says calmly. "Just do as you're told, I'm on my way." "Hurry," I try to calm myself. "Sophie," I almost jump out of my skin when Santiago bangs on the door. "I can at least have a moment to shower, can't I?" I call back and stuff my phone between the towels beside me. The door swings open, and I back away as he storms towards me. He's pissed. His eyes are dark, and the veins on his forehead are visible. "What did you just say to me?" he demands. "I just got off work. I want to take a shower. You don't need to be here for that," I hold his gaze. I know that he'll get suspicious if I become complacent. I've never been one to keep my thoughts to myself. His expression softens, and he reaches for a strand of my hair. "Shit, I'm sorry," he says, placing his hands on my waist and lifting me to sit on the sink. This isn't the first time he's done this, but it is the first time I feel repulsed by it. It's killing me, but I'm repulsed by the man I thought was everything to me. He reaches for the hem of my scrubs and pulls the top over my head. I'm trapped, and he doesn't see that this is wrong or that I don't want him touching me. I stay still, not knowing what to do. "I'm sorry," he leans into me. He buries his hand in my hair to pull my head back enough, so I'm looking up at him. "I keep fucking this up," He brushes his lips to mine, weaponizing our bond against me. My body reacts to his because of it. Tears slip from my eyes as he kisses me. He catches one on his tongue and lifts me enough to reach between us to get my scrubs off. "Please," I cry, not wanting to do this. "I don't-" "It's okay," he wraps my legs around his waist and covers my mouth to keep me from making a sound. "Stop," I mumble into his hand, trying to push him off me. His lips crash against mine, and he reaches between us. My omega traits are alive and well. He takes my reaction to our bond as an opening. Panic starts to set in because no matter what I do or say, he's not going to stop. It's in this moment that I realize too late that maybe I was never a person to him. Just an object no better than the shiny car his parents got him for his birthday this year. "It's only you, Soph," he mumbles into my mouth. "You're the only one I want." My mind blanks when he enters me. My body screams in protest, but he doesn't stop, and he's taking my struggling as fuel to get rougher. He presses his hand over my mouth again to keep him silent. "You're mine, Sophia," he repeats over and over until he's finished. I sit here for a while once he's done processing what just happened. When he knocks again, it's gently this time as if everything that's happened is now behind us. I didn't answer, but I ended up taking a quick shower mindlessly. He's not going to leave me alone. This woman is only going to make this a whole lot harder. She's standing in front of the dining table, her hands folded neatly over her belly. The smile on her face is one I'm all too familiar with. Before now, I used to take solace in it. Luna Romano has been like a mother to me since my mother passed. She would tell anyone who would listen that I, Sophia Helvig, was her only son's fated mate. Things changed when Santiago told them that I was an omega. They sent him away, and I was no longer invited to Sunday dinners in the main house. I was no longer a part of their family. If I'm such a disgrace on her family's bloodline, then why the hell does she want me here? I could just leave when the semester is over. I wouldn't make a fuss, and I wouldn't ask for a single thing in return. No one in their right mind would allow this humiliation, even if I am simply a lowly omega. "Why don't you come take a seat, Sophia?" She takes a step to her right and pulls out the chair to Santiago's left. She looks down at the chair and then at me. The action is almost threatening. "I think we need to have a serious talk." 3 Santiago is sitting there without meeting my gaze. I cautiously go around the table to sit where Luna Romano wants me to sit. I stay still as she reaches over me for the bread knife. I sit back as she cuts the freshly made loaf of bread in front of me. She places a slice on my plate and then another on his. I watch her hands as she moves to put other things on our plates, never setting the knife down. She walks around the table and sets it down beside her plate. "I understand that you are having some trouble with the new arrangement," she says as she takes a fork off the table. "I don't have to remind you that you are Santiago's mate." "No, you don't, and I don't think it's any of your business," I answer honestly—the two of us jump when Santiago slams his hand on the table. "Don't talk to my mother like that, Sophia," he growls. "It's alright, son," she says and continues to eat as if nothing were out of place. "Sophia, you shouldn't be making this harder than it has to be. You are Santiago's mate, and that comes with certain responsibilities." "No, it doesn't. You legally found a replacement for these so-called responsibilities-" "Of course, I did," she stops me. "Do you think you, an omega. A wolfless girl who is practically mortal could ever hold a candle to what a beta-ranked female can?" "I can do everything the beta-ranked female you chose and better. I have proven that over and over. In training and my studies. She wouldn't be able to hold the highest credentials in medicine, the way I can run circles around her studies in pack economics. The comparison isn't fair if you're basing this on genetics." "Is that what this is?" she laughs humorlessly. "You're jealous of Poppy?" "Poppy has nothing I need to be jealous about," I sneer. "Except you do. She is the new Luna of the City, whether you like it or not," she says flatly. "Do you know how many Lunas die a year because other alphas or rogues target them. You know, the very same rogues who took your family from us. You will never be in any danger with Luna Romano taking the lead." I stare at her, letting what she just said sink in. She just called Poppy Luna Romano. My hand twitches over the fork beside my plate. It would be so easy for me to get over this table with it to show her exactly what this little omega can do. I may be the lowest rank of my kind, but I was raised like one of them. My grandmother would rather kill me than let me walk around unable to protect myself. As one of the Lycan King's most trusted Major Generals, my training started long before theirs did. I was raised to be a soldier, and it was only by fate that I am now a healer. "Mom," Santiago says gently. "I think you should leave." "Excuse me?" she laughs, looking over at him. "I think you should go so that I can talk to Sophia alone," he adds. "You brought me here," she reminds him. "I know, and she knows how serious this is now. Get out," he growls. The two of them face off for a moment before she nods and stands up to leave. Neither of us moves as she gathers her belongings. She kisses the side of his head. He knows exactly what I would do to his mother, even though she outranks me. I'd spend the rest of my life in a prison cell here, and I wouldn't regret it. "I suggest you understand your position and soon, Sophia," she says, pausing at the end of the table. "We want to move forward doing things pleasantly. You can be a part of this family the easy way, or you can be a part of this family the hard way. The choice is up to you, but leaving is not an option." "Go," Santiago growls at her again. I sit here waiting for the weight of her words to break the silence between us. He expects me to stay here while he parades his chosen around for all to see simply because I'm an omega. Tears fill my eyes as the realization hits me like a slap across the face. They're all going to make my life a living hell, and he expects me to take it. "You swore you'd never let anything hurt me when I told you I didn't shift," I whisper. "I would never let anything hurt you, Sophia. You know that I would do anything for you." "Except this, right? You'd never stand up to your mother for us even if it killed me," I stand up. "She made us dinner, Sophia. The least you can do is try it," he says calmly. I suck in the mucus in my nose from crying and hack it up into my mouth before spitting it on the food she made for us. He stares at me in disbelief. I've never done anything so ill-mannered before. My grandmother would have never let me hear the end of it, but I think this is an exception she might be willing to overlook. "That's what I think about your mother's food, Santiago." I kiss him on the opposite side of his head. "It's going to take some time for us to get used to this. Sophie," he continues. "I'd reject you now if I thought you'd accept it. But I'm looking forward to doing everything in my power to make you do it. By the time this is over, you're going to hate me with every ounce of your soul the way I do you now." He reacts this time. His hand lashes out and grabs my wrist. He spins me around, pulling me into him hard. My chest smacks against his, hard enough to knock the air out of my lungs. "You hate me?" he laughs and pushes against me until my back hits the wall. My body is trembling, and I can't bring myself to look up at him because if he looks into my eyes, he'll know I'm lying. I want to hate him. I should. But our world is on fire. The flames are closing in around us, with nowhere to run. He did this. He did this to us, and instead of letting me go so that he may do his so-called duty, he wants me to stick around to watch him destroy everything we could have built together. "Reject me. Please," I beg him. "I don't want this. I don't want you like this." "Not a chance, Sophia. You said you'd help me make sure the City prospers," he says, burying his face in the crook of my neck. "This is it, Baby. As soon as we have an heir, it's over. It'll be just you and me. You'll bear my mark, and we can put it all behind us." 4 It's been a long time since I've been plagued with nightmares of the attack. I lay here beside my so-called mate, reliving the moment in silence. It's the final quarter. There are forty seconds on the board and six yards to a touchdown. My arms are tightly around the iron bars as I watch my oldest brother, Gavin, toss the ball to our brother Oliver. The two of them position themselves as the next play begins. All I can hear is the roar of my blood racing as I watch the final moments of the game. My brothers have been working so hard to get here, and winning this game will make them champions of this year's Packlands Championship league. "Let's go, Helvig!" someone shouts, and the crowd starts chanting our last name. The timer restarts, and the team delays the throw. The other teams are unaware of what's happening. Their eyes are locked on Oliver. Ten seconds. Oliver pushes off the ground, and the other team moves with him. Gavin rushes forward, pushing off the ground with all his might. The crowd erupts with joy as he jumps over the other quarterback, clearing the last yards. The stadium goes crazy. I scream, gripping the metal divider, and jump down along with a whole lot of other people. They did it. I cross the field and jump into my brother's arms. Oliver swings me around laughing, and then tosses me up, only for Gavin to catch me. The team and the others in the pack surround us. The older wolves howl while we, the juveniles, can only scream with joy. I have never been more proud of my brothers. I've watched them day in and day out train until they could barely stand to get here. I know it's one of the happiest days in their lives, and I get to be a part of it. "Where's Dad?" Oliver asks. I stare back at him, not knowing how to answer without ruining the win. I think he sees it in my eyes because he nods. "It's cool." "I'm here," I take his hand, and his smile returns. I jump on him again. "You did it!" "We did it," Gavin comes over with some of the other older boys and his mate. Joclyn. Joclyn is the prettiest girl I've ever seen in my life, and she complements my brother perfectly. The ideal beta couple is coming into power. I hear all the whispers about them, how they're going to make the pack stronger. The best thing that could have happened to the Artume Pack was the alpha bringing in my father when he was seventeen years old. No one has anything bad to say about any of us. "Hey," I point at Dad. We all turn to see him running to us. "He came!" I beam, patting Oliver's arm. "He's here." Ollie has always tried his best to please our dad. To walk in Gavin's footsteps to show him that he's worthy of being an official Beta. I know our father is as proud as the rest of our family, but he works a lot. Being the Pack's acting Beta is a full-time job, and sometimes he misses things. Gavin tries to explain, but it's hard to listen when there's a vacant spot in every event or ceremony. "Something's wrong." Gavin takes my hand and pushes me towards Joclyn. She immediately pulls me to her. Dad waves his hands. "Run," Oliver shouts at us. "Sophie," Joclyn pulls me, and I lose my grip on my brother's arm. A loud howl echoes in the darkness in the treeline. Joclyn's hold on my hand tightens as a massive wolves come out of the darkness like demonic shadows—one after the other in every direction. "Gavin!" I cry out, but he's nowhere in sight. "Sophie, stay with me," Joclyn shouts. I follow. The two of us run towards the crowd. She's smart, she's ducking under the crowd with me in tow, not trying to go through them. I scream when someone hits the floor beside me. It's Ms. Harper, my Algebra one teacher. Her eyes are looking back at me, but there's nothing in them. I scramble away from her to get closer to Joclyn. The two of us managed to get under the bleachers with a couple of other girls from my class. "Stay behind me," Joclyn growls. Two big wolves appear up ahead. We turn around to find two more at the other end. "The tunnel," I cry out. "Go," Joclyn shoves me, and she shifts. I take the hands of two of the other girls, and we make a run for it as some of the other pack wolves back Joclyn out. I push the girls to the left, keeping us tight against the wall. Two rogues run past us. I glance back at the others, knowing that they have no idea what to do. Not any more than I do. Think. Think, Soph. What would Ollie do? I poke my head out to see that people are dying everywhere. I see an opening to the parking lot. "Okay," I look over at the girl behind me. She's in my PE class. "Okay, do you remember when we did all four exercises?" "Yes," she nods, along with some of the other girls. "Don't stop until you get out of the gate. Head towards the main building," I order. "What about you?" she cries. "I'm right behind you," I promise. She steps forward. "The gate and then the main building. Hide anywhere." The four of them take off running the way we practiced. I look back and see no one. I don't want to leave Joclyn behind, but there's really nothing I can do. I turn around and run after them. I repeat it in my head over and over. The gate. The main building. The gate. The main building. The gate. The main building. My body screams when my hands reach the gate. I try to catch my breath, and as I prepare to break for the parking lot, I hear a howl, and my body freezes. I turn around to see my father's wolf trying to fight off the wolves, but I lock on to the dark brown wolf behind him. Gavin. My blood runs cold. Another howl echoes in the distance. I see the pretty sand colored wolf sprint across the field and clash against the group of rogues my father is trying to fend off. I step back, unable to believe what I'm seeing. My eyes scan the crowd, trying to find Oliver. I don't see him anywhere. He wouldn't want me to get in the way. If I run out there, I can risk getting hurt or distracting them more. I turn around only to come face-to-face with two wolves. Everything happens so fast. The pain blurs a lot of what's happening. I scream as I'm dragged towards the treeline. I kick and claw, calling out for help. I hear it then, Oliver's howl. The teeth embedded in my shoulder are pulled away, and I cry out as my brother's black wolf runs past me. "Oliver!" I cry out. But it's no use. I can't move. Everything feels hot, and all I can do is watch as those monsters rip my sixteen-year-old, newly shifted brother apart. I can't breathe. All I can taste is the metal in my mouth. I turn slowly, searching the chaos for my Dad. "Daddy!" I call out. I repeat it over and over as I pull myself towards the light of the parking lot. I reach the border and pull myself closer to the light. Two growls come from behind me. I look back to see the two rogues stalking towards me. The bigger one barks, and I cry out. It pounces forward, biting at my leg. With what little strength I have, I kick him. He whines, and the other one pounces on me. Its paw lands on the wound on my shoulder, and all I can do is scream. There's a howl, and the wolves pause. The look in the direction it came from. One of them runs off, but the other one keeps its eyes on me. The howl turns into a roar just as he's about to bite me again. He freezes mid-attack and turns his attention to the darkness behind him. More wolves rush out of the darkness. One in particular stands out. A massive silverback jumps out of the darkness of the clearing. His silver fur was almost luminescent in the full moon's light. He tears those other wolves apart without mercy. The one hovering over me lowers his body and turns around to escape. I scream and reach for it. The wolf is startled, and it bites me. I cry out again and again, refusing to let go. I can feel it tearing at my stomach, but if I'm dying, he's coming with me. Silver comes in my direction, and the wolf latched onto me let's go. I keep my arms around its leg the same way I had when my brothers won tonight. I feel the hit of the young King taking the wolf off me. I fall onto my back. Water or maybe blood fills my lungs, and I can't breathe at all. I try to gasp for air, but relief never comes. All I can see are the stadium lights that illuminate the football field I've grown to love. I lay here thinking that was probably the worst thing that could have ever happened to me. The man at my back, who swore his love and devotion, sleeps peacefully, not caring that he's tearing me apart. 5 I sit up when my alarm goes off and turn it off before it can wake him. I shower, trying my best to get his scent off my skin. To erase what he did to me until he was satisfied. My skin is raw by the time I'm ready for my first class today. I make a quick breakfast for us. I take my coffee and try to escape before he wakes up. I almost jump out of my skin when I turn around to see him standing behind me. He's never hidden his presence from me before. His smile is one I'm very familiar with. I have woken up to it every morning since his return. It was a testament to the happy life I thought we were building. It comes off sinister now that I've seen the beast he'd been hiding from me after all these years. I look at him, and I only see a stranger now. A stranger in my mate's skin. "You were going to leave without saying goodbye?" he asks, stepping closer. "I didn't want to wake you, and I'm already running late," I lie, taking my cup off the counter. He steps with me and takes the cup. "Okay," he says, putting it back on the counter. "I made a reservation for us at-" "Do you really think going out in public would sit well with the pack days after your wedding?" I ask, stopping him. He tenses up. He's never been one for rejection, and up until now, I've never had a reason to say no. I'm questioning everything, and all I feel is emptiness. "I'm trying to make it up to you," he sighs. "I didn't want this either, Sophia." "I understand, which is why I'm telling you now that going out in public wouldn't be right. It would reflect poorly on the two of us. It'll be disrespectful to your wife," I see him visibly tense up as I take my cup from the counter again. "I'll see you tonight. Here, where no one can see." "I'm sorry," he blocks my path again. "Tell me how to make this right again." I stare at him to see if he looks genuine. He seems to think this is a tiny little obstacle in our path, but he doesn't understand the rules of choosing a mate. He's not going to get anything he wants without marking Poppy. What we had was over the moment he allowed his parents to dictate what would happen as he moved forward as the alpha of Artume City. Hell will freeze over before I ever forgive him. Not just for the wedding or not being able to stand up for us, but because of his actions. I don't want him anywhere near me, and he doesn't seem to care. He doesn't see that he's hurting me and making things worse. "I just need some space," I step back. "You didn't even warn me, Santiago. I knew your parents stopped caring for me the moment you told them I was an omega. I didn't think you would ever buy into it. You accepting this only proves to me that you think the same thing they do." "I don't. Sophie, you mean everything to me. You are the love of my life. From the moment I laid eyes on you," he grabs my wrist. "You have to know that." "I did," I pull my arm out of his grip. "But I find it very hard to believe it's the truth anymore." He stares at me, and I can see the war he's in with his wolf. His expression blanks, and I look away to go for the door. "Do you still love me, Soph?" he asks as I step out of the apartment. I take a deep breath and leave without saying a word because that's a stupid question. I hurry into my car and leave before he decides that he wants me to stay with him for the day. Sitting in class is not something I want to be doing right now. I'm in agony, and I have nowhere to go to let it out. Everyone is staring at me. I may not have a wolf, but I can still hear them whispering about me. Those who have hated me from the moment Santiago made our relationship known think I have finally been put in my place. As if being Santiago's mate was the only thing I was ever good at. It's such a shallow notion, and it's an odd feeling when I think that I was no better until the day I didn't shift. I complete the pop quiz and take it to the front. I'm still the first one done. I'm probably the only one in this class who's going to ace it. None of them is going to see that simply because my misery is more exciting. They want something to make me smaller. Envy is ugly when power is involved. I never wanted any of it. I fell in love with the idea of mates, especially after I lost my family. Before I went to Artume Academy, my grandmother had to stay here with me. We were both miserable. She was stuck here babysitting a twelve-year-old who couldn't even move after the attack—two years of surgeries and physical training. It was lonely, so when I met the boy with the pretty sea glass colored eyes and sly smirk, I didn't even question it. It was comforting to be vulnerable around him. To have someone to share my small world with. He was my best friend, but he was gone for a whole year, and things can change during a big stretch of time. I was stupid to think I'd get the same person back. "Ms Helvig," Professor Harrington greets me. She takes my test and sets it down on her desk. "If you need some time to-" "I don't. I'm fine," I reassure her. Her pity stings. I gather my things, wanting nothing more than to go back to my apartment and sleep for the rest of the day. "Omega bitch," someone growls as I make my way over to the exit. I pause and see an eraser on the desk beside me. Using my knee, I knock the table up and round-house kick the eraser at her. She turns back to look at me right on time, and I get her right in the center of her forehead. The class laughs at her when she stands up and screams. "I may be some omega bitch, but I can still end you. Then you'd be the stupid bitch that some omega nobody killed," I remind her. Her eyes are glowing amber with rage. I stand my ground, waiting for her to give me an excuse to beat the shit out of her. She stares at me long enough for it to be embarrassing for her. She takes a seat without saying another word. Some of the others laugh at her. I walk out satisfied. I slam against a brick wall, dropping all of my things. I look up to see a smirk aimed back at me. "Bullying the little girls, Little Omega?" he grins. "Some things never change, huh?" 6 It's been about three years since the last time I've been around the second crown prince of the Lycans. My grandmother used to bring him and his older brother here when the Lycan King and Queen were away on business. Ivar Axel is five years older than me and was best friends with my eldest brother, Gavin. Growing up, he and Gavin made it their life's purpose to infuriate me and my brother Oliver. "My prince," I step back and bow. "Don't even do that," he laughs. I smile at him and crouch down to pick up my things. "Are you okay?" Professor Harrington comes out of the classroom to check on me. I stand up, looking between the two of them. Ivar hands me my belongings. "I'm sorry for the interruption, Professor. I ran into an old friend. This is Ivar Axel. The second crown prince," I introduce him so that she can just go back inside and leave me the hell alone. Is everyone going to ask me if I'm okay? That's the last thing I need. Maybe leaving school early and having to work twice as hard in the upcoming term, so I'm not set back, isn't as bad as I think it might be. Then again, the perfectionist in me would riot. "My prince," she bows to him. She looks up at me. For a moment, she considers reaching for me, but she hesitates, then nods. "Be careful." "What was that?" Ivar laughs when she goes back into her classroom. "Don't ask," I shake my head. "It's been a long time, your highness." "I know. I'm sorry, but it's been a long two-" "Three years," I correct him. I was sixteen the last time I saw him. Not long after, I found out I was an omega. I chalked it up to the exact reason why everyone else pulled away. When others heard I didn't shift, they recoiled as if I had suddenly become contagious. "Shit, it's really been that long?" he laughs. "I'm going to the cafeteria for breakfast. Want to come?" "Lead the way. You know I love to eat." "What brings you to Artume City?" I ask. He takes a deep breath and lets out the heaviest sigh ever. I laugh at how dramatic he still is. That hasn't changed at all. "I got in trouble," he admits. "The night before a huge summit, I went out with some of the alphas in the North, and we got plastered. I didn't show, and Ragnar benched me for the rest of the year." "Ivar," I say his name, disappointedly. The alphas of the North are known for their wild parties. They're all a bunch of cowboys. "I know. I know," he shrugs. "But honestly, I don't even care. I'm tired. I hate politics, and my dad wants me to be beta. That means I'd have to walk beside Ragnar for the rest of my life, and I can't think of anything worse." "I thought you guys were close. Did something happen?" I ask. "Nah, I just hate how planned out his life is. He doesn't know how to have fun. He's devoted to sucking up to our dad and training to be the new Lycan King. I don't have that responsibility, and we have an amazing up-and-coming Beta. I don't see why he's pushing this so hard." "I can think of one thing. You'd be the King's most trusted. There would be no one better to watch his back than his own brother," I shrug. He takes two trays off the belt and hands me one. "Okay, when you put it like that, it makes me sound like I'm entitled," he smirks. "Just a little," I laugh. "So, what? You decided to come slum it with us civilians?" "Actually, I'm here on guard duty." "Oh yeah? Who?" I ask, interested. "You," he says. "Me?" I ask, glancing back at him as I reach for a slice of pizza. I snort as I take a few other items. "Why would I need guarding?" "You tell me. Major General Helvig set the order. My orders are to stay with you until your move to Blackstone. She didn't specify any details," he says, glancing at me as if I were hiding some grand secret. I grab a couple of drinks and get in line for the cash register. My stomach tightens as I play what he said over and over in my head. She couldn't make it, so she sent Ivar to make sure I made it back in one piece. Santiago is not going to like it one bit. Shit. "Ms Helvig," the girl at the register greets me kindly. "Hey, Steph," I say. "The two lunches, please." "Of course," she says and rings us up. We take a seat somewhere away from the big crowds. "Is there something you want to tell me?" he asks. I reach for my lemonade. The sleeve of my hoodie pulls up. I try not to make it evident that I'm hiding it, but I know he saw it. His playful demeanor instantly fades. He stares at me as I reach for my breakfast pizza slice and take a bite. What am I supposed to do in this situation? Lie? To the crown prince? And then what? I tell him the truth, and he confronts Santiago. This is not going to end well. "Some shit happened," I shrug it off. "Who did that to you?" he asks. "I mostly did it to myself," ugh. I just said that. "Did Santiago hurt you?" he asks, his voice low, and leans forward to hear my answer. I don't know how to answer him. I don't know how to explain what is happening to me. I'm scared. Anything I do or say will be evaluated. Santiago made a choice, and I wasn't it. Yet things aren't as black-and-white as that. He sits back without pushing it, and I feel like an idiot for feeling this relieved. "Can we talk about this later? Where are you staying?" I ask him. "At the Helvig Estate. There are instructions for you," he says, reaching into his jacket pocket. He places the envelope with the royal seal wax stamp on it. I wipe my hands and my mouth before reaching for it. There are envelopes—one for me and one for Santiago. I shut my eyes, already exhausted with where this is headed. I open my letter to see it written on the page. By order of Major General Zaraphine Helvig, Sophia Marie Anne Helvig is to return to the Helvig estate for the remainder of her school term to liquidate all Helvig properties and ensure the safety of all valuables so they may be returned to her in Blackstone. It's specified that no outsiders are to enter the house during this time to protect said valuables. It goes on to say that Ivar is here to ensure that everything listed is completed in accordance with the provided schedule. It's not only signed by my grandmother, but the Lycan King himself. If anyone were to question it, they would have to ask the two of them directly. "Fuck my life," I toss the envelope onto the other one. He'll know exactly what's going to happen when the term ends in three months. There will be no hiding it, even if I'm able to convince him for a while. We'll both know. I wonder if we're going to make it out of this. If anything will ever be okay again. "You promise to tell me what's going on when we get home?" he asks. "I'm going to have to keep him off you, aren't I?" "I'd like to think he's above that, but it's a probability," I whisper. "Okay," he nods, his expression softening. "I'll try not to kill him. Although I doubt my brother would hate it when I tell him I mistakenly started a war because someone is hurting you."

InactiveJun 29, 26
Ceylon Cinnamon 7200mg Equivalent with MCT Oil

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Ceylon Cinnamon 7200mg Equivalent with MCT Oil

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I used to ask every new dialysis patient the same thing — "What was your A1C before your kidneys failed?" After 11,000 patients and the same answer every single time, I stopped asking. It was always "managed." It was always between 6.5 and 7.5. It was always someone who did everything their doctor told them to do. The chairs aren't full of people who ignored their blood sugar. They're full of people who trusted the wrong number. I need to tell you something I've been carrying for a long time. And I'm telling you now because last month I got my own prediabetes diagnosis — and I refuse to end up in one of my own chairs. I'm Sandra Keller. I've been a dialysis nurse for 14 years. Roughly 11,000 patients connected to machines. Let me tell you what that actually looks like — because most people only know the word. They don't know the room. Three days a week. Four hours a session. A needle goes into a fistula — a surgically created access point in the arm that leaves a scar most patients hide under long sleeves even in summer. The machine pulls their blood out, cleans it — does what their kidneys cannot anymore — and pushes it back in. For four hours. While they sit there. I've watched people cry during sessions — not from pain but from the weight of what their life became. I've watched a 61-year-old man read the same magazine in the waiting room every Tuesday and Thursday for three years while his wife was connected. I've watched patients stop traveling because they cannot miss a session. I've watched marriages buckle under the schedule. I've watched grandchildren learn to plan around Grandma's dialysis days — "we can't do Saturday, Grandma has her treatment." I've watched patients stop coming. And I know what that means. One of my long-term patients — a woman named Ruth, 63, three years in my unit — told me something I think about every single day. She said: "This isn't living. This is just not dying yet." And you know what every single one of them says when I ask how they got here? "I did everything right. My blood sugar was managed. Nobody told me my kidneys were dying." Every. Single. One. Last month I sat in my own doctor's office and heard the word "prediabetes" attached to my name. A1C: 6.4. Fasting glucose running 135 to 145. And here's the part that made my hands go cold — my creatinine had crept from 0.8 to 1.0 over ten months. My GFR — the number that tells you how well your kidneys are actually filtering — had dropped from 98 to 86. On paper, none of that is alarming. My doctor said "we'll keep an eye on it." But I've heard those exact words before. I've heard them from the charts of people who are now sitting in my chairs. I know what "keeping an eye on it" looks like from the other end. It looks like quarterly labs that document the decline in neat little rows while the kidneys quietly fall apart between appointments. I know what a creatinine of 1.0 looks like at the beginning. Because I've held the hands of people whose creatinine started at 1.0. And I felt something I'd never felt in 14 years of nursing — real, bone-deep terror. Not for my patients. For myself. Two weeks later, something happened that changed the direction of everything. A patient came into my unit for his session. Type 2 for twelve years. On dialysis for nineteen months. I'd known him the whole time. He pulled a bag out of his jacket and set it on the table next to his chair. "Sandra. Tell your people about this." I picked it up. Ceylon cinnamon. Concentrated extract. 7,200mg equivalent in MCT oil. Called Metabolae. "My brother-in-law started taking it four months ago. A1C was 7.2. Now it's 5.9. His kidneys haven't gone further down. He was headed where I am. Not anymore." He looked at me. "My brother-in-law is not sitting in one of these chairs. And he was supposed to be." I took the bag home that night. I did what I've done my whole career when something doesn't add up. I opened my laptop at 11:30 PM and started reading. Here is what I found. And here is the thing I should have learned years earlier. Your A1C measures one thing: the percentage of your red blood cells coated in glucose. It's a rolling 90-day average of how much sugar is floating in your blood. That is all it measures. It does not see what that sugar is doing while it circulates. It does not see the tiny capillaries threading through your kidney tissue. It does not see the small vessels feeding the nerves in your feet. It does not see the delicate blood supply behind your eyes. It sees the level of the flood. Not where the flood is going. A 6.4 can be called prediabetic and your kidney filters can still be quietly wearing down behind it. A 6.8 can be called "managed" and the decline keeps moving. Both things are completely true at the same time. Because the A1C is tracking the water level. Your kidneys are paying the price of the current underneath. This is what produces foam in your toilet. The tiny filters inside your kidneys — glomeruli — have been under sustained pressure from glucose circulating through their walls for years. They start to fail. Protein leaks out. It shows up in your urine as foam that sits there after you flush. That foam is not a warning sign that something might happen. It is evidence that something is already happening. Let me explain the mechanism underneath — because once you see it, you'll understand why "managed" doesn't mean "safe." Every cell in your body has tiny doors on its surface — protein transporters called GLUT4. Their job is to open up, grab glucose from the blood, and pull it inside the cell where it gets converted to energy. In a healthy body, insulin gives the signal, the doors open, glucose moves from blood into cell, and blood sugar comes down. In insulin resistance — the thing underneath type 2 diabetes — those doors stop responding. They're still there. They just stopped coming to the surface. Insulin gives the signal. Nothing happens. Your pancreas sends more insulin. Still nothing. The glucose has nowhere to go, so it stays in your blood and keeps circulating. Your cells are starving. Your blood is flooded. And the sugar floating through your bloodstream keeps passing through every small blood vessel in your body, hour after hour, year after year, wearing the walls down from the inside. Think of your kidneys like the finest mesh screen you've ever seen — millions of tiny filters. That excess sugar is like fine sand being forced through the mesh under pressure. Hour after hour. Day after day. Month after month. The mesh starts to tear. First it leaks a little protein — that foam. Then the tears get bigger. Then the filtration rate drops. Then the whole system starts to fail. Metformin slows the flow of sand a little. But the sand is still coming. And the mesh is still tearing. And the monitoring? The monitoring just measures how torn the mesh is getting. Nobody is stopping the sand. And it is not just the kidneys. That same sugar pileup strips the insulation off your nerves — that's why your feet burn and your hands tingle. It starves your brain of fuel — that's why the fog rolls in by 2pm and the words get lost. It wrecks the tiny blood vessels behind your eyes — that's why the floaters showed up. It locks your body in fat-storage mode — that's why the belly won't budge. It shatters your sleep — that's why you're up three times a night with a racing heart. And it damages the blood vessels responsible for intimacy — that's why that part of your life quietly disappeared and nobody connected it to blood sugar. All of it — kidneys, nerves, brain, eyes, sleep, weight, intimacy — traces back to the same closed doors. Your doctor monitors the headline number. The story underneath it is your organs falling apart. Now — your medications. Metformin works on the input side of this problem. It tells your liver to produce less glucose. It reduces the flood. That is a real, useful thing and your doctor is not wrong to prescribe it. But it does not touch the doors. The GLUT4 transporters are still not responding. The glucose that remains in your blood — even at a "managed" level — keeps circulating. Keeps passing through your kidney capillaries. Keeps grinding the mesh. Because the drug that reduced the flood did not open the drain. And here is what stopped me cold at 2 AM in my kitchen with 14 years of dialysis nursing behind me: The research on how to open those doors exists. It has been published. Peer-reviewed. Cited by the ADA's own journals. Sitting in databases that a 15-minute appointment leaves no time to read. There is a specific compound that triggers GLUT4 transporters directly. It bypasses the broken insulin signal entirely. It goes to the cell, speaks to the machinery inside it, and wakes the doors back up. A 2003 study in Diabetes Care — the ADA's own flagship journal — showed these compounds produced a 29% drop in fasting blood glucose. A study published in the Journal of the American College of Nutrition found that MHCP triggers the same internal chemical cascade that insulin is supposed to trigger, and was 20 times more effective at activating this pathway than any other natural compound tested. Twenty times. A second study in the Archives of Biochemistry and Biophysics confirmed that Ceylon extract physically increases the number of GLUT4 transporters at the cell surface. The doors do not just crack open. They multiply. A 2012 review in the Journal of Medicinal Food analyzed eight randomized controlled trials and found meaningful drops in both fasting glucose and A1C. Published. Replicated. Real. And in 14 years of working at the end of the road — watching thousands of patients get pulled into those chairs — not once had anyone put this in my hand. Not because doctors are hiding it. Because the pipeline that moves research from a journal into a treatment room runs on patent money. You cannot patent a plant. So no pharmaceutical company funds the trials that would land it on a sales representative's desk. No sales rep walks it into a primary care office. The studies stay in databases. The patients keep coming in with foam in their toilets and GFRs that drop another point each quarter. That is not your fault. You took the pills. You tracked the number. You kept every appointment. You were not failing the system. The system was only giving you half the answer and never telling you the other half existed. Now. You have probably tried cinnamon before. You sprinkled it on oatmeal. You found a bottle at the grocery store or on Amazon and took it faithfully for three months and watched your meter not move. I've watched patients bring supplement bottles to their dialysis sessions and ask me if they should keep taking them. I need you to understand exactly why most of them fail. They use the wrong plant. The cinnamon in your spice cabinet and in most capsules is Cassia. It looks the same. It smells similar. It is a completely different species with a completely different chemical makeup. At the doses required to move blood sugar, Cassia silently burdens your liver. The European Food Safety Authority documented that as little as a quarter teaspoon per day pushes daily coumarin intake past safe limits — and coumarin damages liver tissue at therapeutic doses. You were not taking the wrong amount. You were taking the wrong plant. True Ceylon cinnamon contains 250 times less coumarin. It is the only species appearing in the clinical research showing real metabolic results. They are catastrophically underdosed. Clinical trials used concentrated extract equivalent to 6,000 to 7,200mg daily. Most capsules contain 500 to 1,500mg of raw powder. That is not a small gap. That is the difference between a therapeutic dose and a decorative amount. They use the wrong delivery format. The active compounds in Ceylon — the ones that wake up GLUT4 transporters — are fat-soluble. Your cell walls are a double layer of fat molecules. Fat-soluble compounds need fat to pass through them. A dry powder capsule has no fat. So the compounds reach your gut, look for a fat carrier to cross the cell wall, find none, and pass straight through without ever reaching the cells that need them. Your cinnamon did not fail because cinnamon does not work. It failed because it was never delivered. The bag that my patient set down on the table next to his chair? He was taking Metabolae. True Ceylon cinnamon. Cinnamomum verum, sourced from a single estate in Sri Lanka's Central Province — the original home of true cinnamon, where the tree has been cultivated for over two thousand years. DNA-verified at the species level. An actual Certificate of Analysis, not a label claim. Dosed at 7,200mg equivalent per softgel. A 12:1 concentrated extract. The dosing range that corresponds directly to the published clinical trials. Suspended in MCT oil from coconuts. Not as a filler. As the delivery system — the fat bridge that carries the active compounds through your cell wall and into the cells where the GLUT4 transporters have been waiting for years to be told to surface. Third-party tested. GMP-certified. Every batch verified for purity, potency, and coumarin levels. Made in an FDA-registered facility. Zero fillers. I ordered a bag that night. Week 1, the fog lifted. Not managed — lifted. I finished a twelve-hour shift and still had thoughts left. My feet stopped aching after long days on the floor. I slept through the night for the first time in months. Week 2, my fasting readings — which had been running 135 to 145 — started showing up in the 110s. I checked three times the first morning I saw 108 because I didn't believe it. Week 4, the readings stabilized in the low 90s. Stable. Consistent. The kind of numbers I had not seen since before any of this started. Week 8, I pulled my own labs. Creatinine back to 0.8. GFR climbed from 86 to 91. Week 10, my doctor pulled up my full panel. A1C down from 6.4 to 5.4. Creatinine holding at 0.8. GFR at 94. Seven pounds gone without changing what I ate. She looked at the numbers. Looked at me. "What did you change?" I handed her the research I'd been reading at 11:30 PM for three weeks. She read for ten minutes. Closed the folder. "Your kidney function improved." I nodded. "Keep doing whatever you're doing." That patient who set the bag on the table? He's still on dialysis. That door closed for him a long time ago. But his brother-in-law — the one he told me about — came in with him to a follow-up visit two months later. I met him in the waiting room. A1C 5.9. Creatinine stable. GFR climbing. Not in a chair. Not going to be. He looked at me and said: "The drain opened." I've recommended Metabolae to eight patients now. Or to their family members in the monitoring window — the ones who still have a chance. Every single one has come back and reported the same pattern. Better sleep within the first week. Steady energy through the day. Lower fasting glucose within the first month. One woman — 58, A1C 6.9, protein spillage climbing for three years — came back at her 90-day follow-up with spillage down 45 percent. She cried when she told me the foam in her toilet was gone. Another patient's GFR went from 53 to 59 in four months. His nephrologist, who had been preparing him for the dialysis conversation, told him the trajectory had changed and asked what he had added. But the one I think about most is Ruth. I told her what I'd found. She looked at me with tears running down her face and said: "Tell everyone. Don't let them end up like me." That's why I'm writing this. If you are sitting in the monitoring window right now — if your A1C is between 6.0 and 7.5, if your doctor keeps saying "we'll keep an eye on it," if your creatinine is creeping up a tenth at a time, if your GFR is dropping a point or two each quarter, if there is foam in your toilet, if your feet tingle — try Metabolae risk-free. Ninety-day money-back guarantee. No questions asked. If your fasting glucose does not come down, if your kidney markers do not move, if you see no difference in 90 days, you pay nothing. The patients who see real movement in their kidney function are the ones who committed to at least three months. That is how long it takes to give your GFR a real chance to stabilize and shift. That is how long it takes to move A1C meaningfully. The 90-day guarantee means those three months cost you nothing if the numbers do not move. Here is what happens if they do. Your fasting glucose starts dropping between weeks 2 and 4. Your sleep improves within the first week — most people stop waking multiple times within 5 to 7 days. Your energy levels out through the day. And at your next lab draw — the one where your doctor has been saying "let's keep an eye on it" — she pauses. Looks at the numbers. Looks at you. Asks what you changed. You tell her. She uses a word you have not heard in years of appointments. "Improving." Not managed. Improving. The window stays open. The chair stays empty. One softgel daily with breakfast. That is the whole protocol. Metabolae is a small company sourcing verified Ceylon from a single estate in Sri Lanka's Central Province, testing every batch, using a fat-based delivery system that costs more to produce. When a batch sells out it waits on the next harvest. If you click and see out of stock, sign up for the notification. If it is available, order now. There is a promotion running currently. Three bottles at a significant discount — which is exactly the window for the kidney markers to actually move. If you are dealing with: Foam in the toilet that will not go away no matter how many times you flush. Tingling or burning in your feet that your doctor calls neuropathy. Fasting glucose that will not come below 130 no matter what you cut out. Creatinine climbing a tenth at a time every quarter. GFR dropping while your doctor "keeps an eye on it." An A1C your doctor calls "managed" or "prediabetic" while your body keeps sending signals that something is wrong. Give it 90 days. Track your fasting glucose every morning. Note your sleep, your energy, your feet. Go back for your next labs. If the numbers do not move, you get your money back. But if they do — if your kidney markers hold or climb, if the foam stops, if your doctor pauses over your labs and says the word you have been waiting to hear for years — you will understand why I now have a standing conversation with every patient who still has a chance to avoid my chairs. The doors are closed. The sand is still coming. But the window is still open. Don't let someone else tell your story with the words "I wish someone had told me sooner." I just did. Click below and get Metabolae while it is still available. ~ Sandra Keller, RN, Dialysis Unit, 14 years 👉 https://metabolae.com/products/ceylon-cinnamon-7200mg

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