Landslide
14 Published Stories
Landslide's Books and Stories
Substitute Bride: My Comatose Husband Awakes
Fantasy I was a Dragonless orphan taken in by a noble family, forced to be the substitute bride for my cowardly stepsister to marry a comatose, cursed Dragon Lord.
To ensure I couldn't refuse, my stepmother drugged my wine at a family dinner. She locked me in a dark hotel room with a stranger, planning to have me ruined so I'd have no choice but to take her daughter's place.
I barely escaped the terrifying, burning man in that room, only to be dragged back to the estate. When I stood in the grand foyer and refused the marriage, my stepmother smiled coldly.
"It would be a terrible shame if your foster mother's health were to suddenly decline."
She threatened to murder the only person who ever loved me. Even my childhood best friend betrayed me, selling me out for a plot of land and threatening to frame my healing skills as witchcraft. I was completely cornered, forced to walk into a tomb of a marriage as a sacrificial lamb just so my stepsister could chase after a handsome prince.
Why did my life have to be treated like disposable trash for their greedy ambitions?
But they severely underestimated me. Before leaving, I extorted a massive fortune from my stepmother as my dowry. And on my wedding night, when I realized my "comatose" husband was actually the lethal, fully awake man from the hotel room, I didn't panic. I looked into his murderous eyes and offered him a deadly deal. This time, I was going to burn their entire world to the ground. The Hidden Alpha's Innocent Contract Mate
Werewolf My family tried to sell me to a monster.
Frankie Glover was a low-ranking Warrior from the Glover Pack, notorious for his violent temper and wandering hands. To everyone else, I was just a wolfless girl with no rank, no claws, and no power to fight back. To my mother and sister-in-law, I was even less than that. I was a price tag.
So I ran.
In the middle of a freezing Chicago storm, I jumped into the first Uber I saw and begged the dangerous-looking driver to take me anywhere but home. He smelled like cedar, rain, and something darker beneath the scent suppressant on his skin. I should have been afraid of him.
Instead, I heard myself say the craziest words of my life.
“I’ll pay you five hundred dollars a month. Just... marry me.”
I expected him to throw me out.
He drove me straight to City Hall.
By morning, my family had disowned me, Frankie was furious, and my new husband had become the only thing standing between me and the Pack that wanted to claim me. Everyone thought Damien Montgomery was just a broke, unaffiliated Uber driver. A Rogue with no money, no status, and no Pack behind him.
Then Frankie cornered us at a restaurant.
He threatened my best friend. He mocked her child. He tried to hit me.
Damien caught his wrist before the blow landed.
“Don’t touch my wife.”
The room went silent. Even the wolves stopped breathing.
One moment, Damien was the quiet man who drove a beat-up Toyota and lived in an old apartment building on the edge of neutral territory. The next, he snapped Frankie’s wrist, exposed his fake Rolex scam in front of everyone, and made three Glover Pack Warriors run like frightened dogs.
That was when I started to understand.
My husband was hiding something.
The spacious top-floor apartment. The black credit card he claimed was just a bank promotion. The way Pack men lowered their eyes around him before they even knew why. The terrifying grandfather who showed up alone with a jade wolf-fang heirloom and called me the Luna of the family.
None of it made sense.
Damien said he was nobody.
But nobody did not carry the scent of old bloodlines under layers of suppressant. Nobody did not make wolves tremble with a single word. Nobody did not look at a wolfless girl like she was already his.
I married a stranger to escape one monster.
Now I’m beginning to wonder if I accidentally married the most dangerous Alpha in Chicago. Reborn Heiress: Escaping The Billionaire's Cage
Romance I was lying in a hospital bed, my body shattered from a terrible car crash.
My best friend Belinda walked in, but she didn't come to comfort me. She came to gloat.
"You didn't really think the crash was an accident, did you?"
She told me that she and my fiancé, Braxton, had tampered with my brakes.
She stroked her slightly curved belly, smiling as she confessed that she was carrying his child.
They needed me dead so Braxton could take over my family's company.
Even worse, they had paid a drunk driver to run my parents and my brother off the road. My entire family was wiped out by design.
As my world crumbled, a lawyer walked in.
He was sent by my husband, Julian, who hadn't visited me once. The lawyer coldly handed me divorce papers to sign on my deathbed.
I died alone, suffocating on my own blood, consumed by a burning hatred for the people I trusted most.
Why did they destroy my family? Why did Julian abandon me when I needed him the most?
But when I opened my eyes again, the sterile hospital room was gone.
I was standing in my childhood bedroom, staring at my flawless, eighteen-year-old face in the mirror.
It was exactly one week before my engagement party with Braxton.
This time, I wouldn't be their victim. I would burn their worlds to the ground. Reborn Heiress: Escaping The Cheating Fiancé
Modern In her past life, Christabel was locked in an abandoned medical facility, her fingers crushed and her vision blurred with her own blood.
Her stepsister, Hilary, stood over her in a pristine white Chanel suit, smiling as she delivered the final blow.
"Derrick's plane went down. No survivors."
Hilary whispered the words with fake pity, throwing a stack of newspapers directly at Christabel's face.
The bold headlines screamed about the Sanders family's absolute bankruptcy and liquidation.
Christabel's parents and brother had already died trying to protect her.
Now, Hilary was sealing her inside this rusted, pitch-black room to rot away completely.
Christabel couldn't even move her dead limbs to fight back. She could only wait for her heartbeat to stop, drowned in absolute, crushing helplessness.
She hated herself for being so blind, for letting Hilary and her fiancé Jaylon manipulate her, destroy her family, and steal everything she ever loved.
In her final agonizing second, a vicious curse echoed in her mind. She swore that if she had another chance, she would drag them all to hell.
Then, a violent sensation of falling ripped through her, and her eyes snapped open.
Blinding light from a crystal chandelier stabbed her eyes, and an unnatural, burning heat rushed through her veins.
She had been reborn.
She was back at eighteen, in the exact hotel room where Hilary and Jaylon had plotted to drug her and ruin her reputation forever.
This time, the show was hers to direct. The Silent Bride's Billion Dollar Contract
Modern My bank account showed exactly $42.18, and my student loan notifications were flashing red. I lived in a sweltering Queens apartment with my Aunt Lydia, where the air was thick with the smell of stale frying oil and the constant threat of being homeless.
Lydia handed me a grainy photo of a man twice my age and told me she had already "sold" me to him. He was a dry cleaner looking for a wife, and in exchange for my hand, he would pay off her credit cards and my debt. If I didn't show up for the date that night, my boxes would be on the curb by midnight.
I arrived at the cafe in a state of panic, my selective mutism making it impossible to even breathe. In the crowded room, I accidentally sat at the wrong table. Instead of the man from the photo, I found myself facing Gerhard Holcomb—the cold, terrifyingly handsome billionaire whose family owned the very museum where I worked. He didn't send me away; instead, he studied my trembling hands and offered me a different deal: a two-year contract marriage, a two-million-dollar payout, and a strict clause forbidding any children.
I signed the papers and moved into his Park Avenue penthouse, thinking I was finally safe. But when I went back to the old apartment to retrieve the only memento of my dead parents, Lydia lashed out, leaving me bleeding from a head wound. Gerhard’s retaliation was absolute—he had her arrested and her building foreclosed on within hours, claiming he was simply "protecting his assets."
As I recovered in his silent, glass-walled home, I saw a call from a famous socialite flash on his phone, and a cold truth settled in my gut. I wasn't just a wife; I was a placeholder, a silent shield used to fend off the women from his past.
I looked at the massive pink diamond on my finger and realized the silence I had lived in my whole life was about to become my most expensive prison. I had traded a life of poverty for a high-stakes game of shadows, and now I had to survive the man who claimed to own me. When Love Rebuilds From Frozen Hearts
Mafia On the night of my career-defining art exhibition, I stood completely alone. My husband, Dante Sovrano, the most feared man in Chicago, had promised he wouldn’t miss it for the world. Instead, he was on the evening news.
He was shielding another woman—his ruthless business partner—from a downpour, letting his own thousand-dollar suit get soaked just to protect her. The headline flashed below them, calling their new alliance a "power move" that would reshape the city.
The guests at my gallery immediately began to whisper. Their pitying looks turned my greatest triumph into a public spectacle of humiliation. Then his text arrived, a cold, final confirmation of my place in his life: “Something came up. Isabella needed me. You understand. Business.”
For four years, I had been his possession. A quiet, artistic wife kept in a gilded cage on the top floor of his skyscraper. I poured all my loneliness and heartbreak onto my canvases, but he never truly saw my art. He never truly saw me. He just saw another one of his assets.
My heart didn't break that night. It turned to ice. He hadn't just neglected me; he had erased me.
So the next morning, I walked into his office and handed him a stack of gallery contracts.
He barely glanced up, annoyed at the interruption to his empire-building. He snatched the pen and signed on the line I’d marked.
He didn’t know the page tucked directly underneath was our divorce decree.
He had just signed away his wife like she was nothing more than an invoice for art supplies. Her Dying Breath, His Cold Fury
Billionaires My sister Alia was dying. Her only hope was an experimental surgery that cost half a million dollars. With only two weeks to find the money, I had to swallow my pride and go to the one person I hated most: my estranged billionaire brother, Damon.
But I never got to see him. His executive assistant, a woman named Ginger, took one look at my cheap dress and decided I was a stalker. She refused to pass along my message.
She dragged me into a back room, sneering that my story about a dying sister was pathetic. In front of her colleagues, she tore Alia' s life-saving medical records to shreds and threw them in the trash.
She slapped me across the face, poured hot coffee on my chest, and ripped my dress open to humiliate me further.
I lay on the floor, broken and bleeding, while she laughed. All I could think about was the closing window for Alia' s surgery. Every piece of paper she destroyed, every second she wasted, was another nail in my sister' s coffin.
Because of that delay, Alia died. When my brother finally found out what his assistant had done, the grief that should have broken us instead forged something new and terrible. I looked at him and said that jail wasn't enough. We would give Ginger everything she ever dreamed of, just so we could be the ones to burn it all to the ground. Stolen Husband, Stolen Life, Stolen Love
Romance The phone call felt like a death sentence.
"Killed in action."
My husband, David Miller, a decorated Navy SEAL and the love of my life, was gone, leaving me and our five-year-old daughter, Lily, alone.
But then, he walked through the door.
He looked exactly like David, yet it wasn't him. It was Mark, David\'s identical twin brother, a man I knew to be a selfish, lazy bum, now wearing the mask of my heroic husband.
He moved through the grieving relatives, accepting condolences, even letting Grandma Miller sob on his shoulder, all while his eyes met mine with a cold, calculating assessment, daring me to expose him.
The nausea hit me, a wave of realization that this wasn' t grief; it was an act. He wasn\'t here to mourn; he was here to steal David\'s identity, to erase him to escape his own pathetic existence.
And then fear for Lily, blissful in her coloring, replaced my grief. I had to protect her, no matter the cost.
So, I stepped into the role of the devoted, grief-stricken widow.
"David," I choked out, throwing my arms around him, "I thought I\'d lost you. They told me you were gone."
He stiffened, but recovered quickly, his voice a cheap imitation of my real husband\'s.
I played along, even when his girlfriend, Ashley, pregnant with his child, announced their "happy news" at David' s memorial, then demanded our house and savings.
The audacity was sickening, but I feigned despair, exposing their cruel intentions to the shocked family.
Later, in the backyard, I burned David' s belongings – a painful sacrifice. Mark and Ashley watched, enraged, as he remained trapped by the identity he' d stolen, unable to act for fear of exposing himself.
Then Lily, innocent and pure, delivered the first crack in his facade.
"Mommy," she asked, looking at Mark, "Why does Daddy look different? His eyes are mean."
The words hung in the air, a child\'s innocent observation, but for the first time, I saw real fear in Mark\'s eyes. This was just the beginning.
I would make sure he regretted the day he decided to come back from the dead. My Family's Faith, My Bloody Fate
Horror It started on the one-year anniversary of my return, a day meant for joy.
Instead, my family, devout and God-fearing, brutally murdered me.
My brother, my protector, became a "defiler" screaming monster, my father, a man of God, cut off my hand with a rusty saw, and my mother, once overjoyed, called me an "abomination."
They threw my bleeding body into a silo, sealing the hatch, and as I died, I only had one question: Why?
It was the locket. The small, carved wooden locket my sister, Esther, had given me moments before, a "welcome home" gift that instantly turned my loving family into rabid killers.
Somehow, I woke up. It' s the same day, the same anniversary. Esther is coming up the stairs, the locket in her hand, about to give me the gift that will trigger their bloodlust again.
This time, I refuse. But Esther is cunning, and soon, I'm dodging my family's crazed attacks, desperately trying to expose their dark beliefs to the authorities. They look at me like I' m simply a troubled girl with an overzealous family.
Knowing the law won't stop their fanaticism, I have no choice but to use their own twisted faith against them, no matter the cost, to finally break free. The Girl Who Refused to Be Broken
Young Adult My whole life was about getting out of this blue-collar town.
Ivy League scholarships were my ticket, and I lived and breathed SAT prep.
My best friend, Bree Van Doren, struggled with her studies, her family's hardware store failing.
She always said I made it look so easy.
Then Bree suggested a "study retreat" at her remote family cabin in the Adirondacks.
After she handed me a bottle of water, that's the last thing I remembered before darkness.
I woke up on a dirt floor, head pounding, in a filthy shack.
This was no cabin; this was a nightmare.
The Petersons, a rough, menacing family, treated me like an animal.
Then Bree appeared, her face shockingly cold, flatly admitting she sold me to them.
For a few hundred bucks and a beat-up snowmobile, my "best friend" had erased her academic competition.
I was to "keep Cletus company."
Sold. Like an object. For a snowmobile.
Every Ivy League dream I had, reduced to ash.
Panic clawed at my throat. How? Why?
Even my own cousin, Jake, seeing me bruised and desperate, didn't recognize me.
But a silent scream of "NO" echoed in my mind.
I would not break.
I was Sarah Miller, and my formidable grandparents, Eli and Agnes Miller, would find me.
And when they did, Bree Van Doren would pay. My Wife, The Monster
Romance My seven-year-old daughter, Lily, just died from leukemia.
Grief consumed me, but my wife, Vicky, told me it was the will of fate-the experimental Swiss treatment simply failed.
We buried our sweet girl.
But then, hours later, I overheard Vicky' s voice, surprisingly light, from her study.
She was on a video call, laughing with her best friend, Chloe.
"He' s back, Chloe! Julian! His big project in Dubai went bust."
Vicky giggled, then scoffed, "Honestly, Lily' s illness was such a drain. Julian doesn' t need to know I had a child, especially one so sick."
Then came the words that ripped my world apart: "I found a clinic in Switzerland, very discreet. Euthanasia."
My heart, already shattered, was pulverized.
Vicky had killed our daughter.
And now, with Lily barely cold in her grave, Vicky was parading Julian, her old flame, through our home, mocking my life' s work, and quickly erasing Lily' s every trace.
She painted me as an unstable, grieving fool.
She vowed to destroy me, to ensure I got nothing.
How could the woman I loved, the mother of my child, be such a monster?
How could I have been so blind?
But the pain wasn't just mine; it was Lily' s, a horrific injustice.
I wouldn't let them erase her.
I would fight back, for Lily' s legacy, for the truth, and green the world with the "Oasis System" she loved, whether Vicky and Julian liked it or not. The Dull Wife's Masterpiece
Romance At 35, architect Emily was on top of the world. Her firm just won a major contract for a downtown skyscraper, and she was celebrating a successful career, building dreams one blueprint at a time.
Then came the text. Not for her, but for her husband Ethan. It flashed on his iPad: "My Little Muse. Is the show over? I bought you your favorite vinyl." Show? He was rehearsing.
A chilling comment from her best friend echoed: Ethan had said Emily was "dull," like "a book he’d read too many times." Her trembling hands unlocked his devices. What she found was a sick tapestry of lies: cutesy messages, secretive Venmo payments to a "Sophia M.," and social media posts flaunting his custom guitar pick and even his vintage watch.
The dashcam footage confirmed it all—intimate kisses with a very young "Little Muse" while he was supposedly "rehearsing." This wasn't just a fling; it was a brazen, calculated betrayal, a sickening echo of his "dull" remark.
Every shared memory twisted into a lie. Had their entire life together been a farce? How could the man she loved debase her so utterly, all for a cheap thrill? When Ethan announced a "band tour" that was actually a luxurious Miami getaway with his mistress, a cold rage set in. He thought she was numb, easily discarded? He was about to learn that an architect could build more than skyscrapers—she could construct the perfect downfall, ready to serve him a dose of reality he’d never forget. Possessed By An Octopus
Modern After breaking up with the movie king, I went diving and ended up getting sprayed with ink by a giant octopus.
In that moment, I was invaded by the octopus's genes.
This creature has nine brains, eight tentacles, and three hearts.
My IQ skyrocketed instantly, and the romantic mindset that had troubled me for years was replaced by a new career-focused mindset.
This time, I could finally distinguish who truly cared for me and who was just putting on a facade.
I fired my angelic bitch of a manager and took control of everything myself.
When I argued with netizens, I could take on a hundred of them at once.
Later, the movie king called me again:
"You respond to netizens pretty quickly, but why can't you see my messages?"
I sincerely replied:
"Sorry, but my IQ is too high now; you're a bit beneath me." You might like
Rejected by My Family, Claimed by the Galactic Commander
EVA PINK I woke up to the stench of rust and rotting flesh, no longer a master botanist who commanded life itself, but a D-class exile dumped on a wasteland planet.
Memories that weren't mine flooded in. I was framed by my stepsister, betrayed by my fiancé, and banished by my own family to the Ashfall Peninsula to die.
The original girl actually starved to death in despair. The moment I opened my eyes, a scavenger tried to smash my skull with a rusty pipe just to eat me. After I killed him to survive, I discovered a harsher truth: in this universe, plant seeds are classified as A-level strategic resources, completely monopolized by the Imperium.
But the universe had a sick sense of humor. A mandatory background scan suddenly triggered a galactic broadcast: I, the exiled trash, was a perfect genetic match for the Imperium's top war hero, General Alexander Orr.
The family that ruthlessly erased my existence instantly saw me as a golden ticket. My cheating ex-fiancé was dispatched to drag me back, furious that his "property" was matched with someone else. They all thought I was still that weak, naive girl they could manipulate.
But as I held the pure, glowing Life Source Crystals I had secretly extracted from the scrap heap, a cold smile crept onto my face.
"I didn't come here to die. I came here to build an empire."
I turned my back on the galactic broadcast and stepped into the deadly wilderness. Rejected Bride: Married To The Dragon King
Catlaina Sloggett I knelt on the cold stone of the Dragon God Altar, waiting to marry Lord Harper Carney. It was my only chance to escape the gilded cage of my family.
But when Harper finally arrived, he wasn't alone. His arm was wrapped tightly around my cousin, Hettie.
Right in front of the entire court, he coldly announced that our marriage was a mistake.
Hettie leaned into his embrace, wearing a triumphant smile while playing the innocent victim.
The assembled nobles openly jeered at me. They mocked my greatest failing—that I was a worthless "Dragonless" born without the inner fire.
My own father was furious, not at them, but at me. He demanded I go to Hettie's estate and beg for her forgiveness.
When I refused, he threatened to cut off all my funds and revoke my only job at the Royal Scribes' Office.
I was publicly abandoned, stripped of my dignity, and left with absolutely nothing.
I didn't cry, and I didn't scream. Why should I be the one to apologize when they were the ones who betrayed me?
For years, I had endured their abuse, treated like a pawn to be sacrificed at will. But looking at their smug faces, my despair turned into cold resolve.
I took off my betrothal coronet and dropped it at Harper's feet, publicly nullifying the contract myself.
I thought I would have to face the ruin alone, until a mysterious, powerful man with burning golden eyes stepped out of the shadows.
"Marry me," he said. "I will be your shield, and we will crush them together." The Godblood Bride: Mending the Cursed Dragon Lord
Maui I was forced to replace my sister and marry Lord Gideon Carlisle, a crippled Dragon Lord rumored to be a monster whose brides always ended up dead.
But the real danger wasn't my terrifying husband. It was Audrey, the fragile, innocent girl he took in and fiercely protected.
She lured me to a cliff, confessed to murdering his first two brides, and tried to shove me into the abyss.
When her clumsy attack failed and she nearly fell herself, Gideon's shadow guard rushed in to save her. But he only saw the aftermath.
Audrey immediately burst into tears, pointing a shaking finger at me.
"It was her! She pushed me! She tried to kill me!"
Without hesitation, Gideon chose to believe his precious ward.
He looked at me with cold, golden dragon eyes, condemning his own wife without a trial.
He threatened me with dragon's flame and locked me in my chambers, while Audrey smiled triumphantly behind his back.
I couldn't believe a supposedly brilliant Dragon Lord could be so utterly blind, protecting the very monster who had cursed his life while treating me like the villain.
But I wasn't the weak, original bride who would just accept this injustice and die quietly.
I calmly walked back into his study, pulled out a vial of Truth Serum, and forced it down Audrey's throat so my blind husband could finally hear the truth. Chaotic Affinity: A Rebirth Magic Academy Romance
Qijia Lady I took a blood-binding curse to save my younger sister Danae, ruining my magic affinity forever.
Instead of gratitude, she stole our mother's token and convinced our father to dump me at a school for magical rejects.
In my past life, I actually believed her sweet lies. I thought she was shielding me from the cruel aristocratic academies.
I went to that unfashionable boarding school, only to be ground into dust by rogue curses and treated like garbage.
Meanwhile, she lived in a palace, surrounded by devoted admirers and endless luxury.
When I was finally dragged to the execution pyre, my own father and sister stood in the high stands, watching me burn alive with cold satisfaction.
I died screaming in agony, clawing at my scorched skin, utterly betrayed by the family I had bled for.
Until the flames consumed me, I didn't understand. Why did the sister I sacrificed everything for want me dead?
Why was my devotion rewarded with a fiery grave?
Opening my eyes again, I was back on the very morning of my departure to that trash magic school.
Danae walked into my room with a warm mug of milk, a razor-thin smear of satisfaction flashing across her lips.
She thought she was the only one who had returned to the past.
"Sister, you look terrible. Did you have that nightmare again?"
This time, I will gladly take the train to the school of rejects.
Not to hide in shame, but to build an altar of bone and ruin out of everyone who burned me alive. Mated To The Possessive White Tiger Marshal
Dong Lier On my twenty-first birthday, I was just a broke orphan sitting in a dark apartment, staring at an overdue rent notice.
A freak lightning strike suddenly shattered my reality, tearing me from Earth and dropping me into a primal alien jungle, where I was cornered by a massive white tiger.
I thought I was dead, but I woke up in a high-tech hospital surrounded by people with animal ears, scales, and tails.
The doctor looked at me with pity and delivered the crushing truth.
"Earth is a lost world, Anya. To us, you are a purebred human relic."
In this Varden Empire ruled by genetically superior Beastkin, I was painfully fragile, physically weak, and treated like a delicate museum exhibit.
Worse, I learned that the monstrous tiger from the jungle was actually Marshal Jaxon Kensington, the ruthless and overwhelmingly powerful commander of the Imperial Army.
I felt completely helpless and suffocated. I was trapped in an alien world where I was inferior to everyone, terrified of the military monster who had brought me here. Why was I dragged into this brutal universe just to be a weak specimen?
What I didn't know was that the Empire's registry had just paired my DNA with the Marshal's, flashing an impossible 99% compatibility match.
By Imperial Law, the cold, untouchable commander was now permanently bound to me, and his terrifying, primal obsession had just been awakened. Flash Marriage To My Mysterious Immortal Husband
Burch Minow I entered a contractual marriage with Cyril Sweeney just to protect my antique restoration studio from local developers.
I thought he was merely an eccentric, wealthy cargo pilot, but I soon realized I had married a monster.
His skin was colder than ice, he could throw a grown man across a room effortlessly, and strangers in tailored suits dropped to their knees calling him "My Lord."
But the most agonizing part was his violent rejection of me.
Whenever I got close, or accidentally scraped my skin and bled, he would shove me away like I was a plague.
His glacial eyes would turn pitch black, his throat convulsing as if fighting a demon.
"Run before I kill you!"
He roared at me with a feral, terrifying rasp, his hands clawing at his own throat.
The final straw came when I found an antique pocket watch on his desk, holding a faded photograph of a young girl.
I realized I wasn't a wife; I was just a convenient, nameless replacement for a ghost he still carried over his dead heart.
I didn't understand why he looked at me with such desperate agony, nor why my blood drove him to the brink of madness.
I didn't know the girl in the photograph was actually me from ten years ago.
As I slammed my truck into reverse to escape his haunted glass villa, I had no idea the real nightmare was just beginning. Betrayed Bride: I Married My Ex's Comatose Uncle, the Dragon Lord
Ben Nan On my wedding day, I caught my fiancé in my stepsister's arms.
She was pregnant with his child.
And instead of begging for forgiveness, Damian Harrison laughed in my face.
He admitted he had always planned to marry me, dump me in some forgotten country estate, and keep my stepsister as the woman he truly loved.
So I burned my wedding veil in front of the entire Harrison family and walked away.
That should have been the end of it.
Instead, Damian's mother sent armed men after me.
Why?
Because I was a Dragonless nobody from the borderlands, and in her eyes, humiliating a Harrison was a crime worse than her son's betrayal.
I had no dragon blood.
No powerful family willing to protect me.
Not even my own father would risk offending the Harrisons for my sake.
If I wanted to survive, I needed someone they feared more than they hated me.
So I returned to the Harrison estate and made an outrageous demand.
I would marry Damian's uncle.
Gideon Harrison-the legendary Dragon Lord, the kingdom's greatest war hero... and a man everyone believed was dead.
Perfect.
As his widow, I would outrank the man who betrayed me, become his aunt by marriage, and gain enough power to make every Harrison who humiliated me regret it.
I signed the marriage pact without hesitation.
Then a knight burst into the ancestral hall with impossible news.
Gideon Harrison was alive.
My dead husband wasn't dead.
He was being brought home. Mated To My Ex's Dead Brother
Zhao Da My engagement to Kile, the heir of House Golden, was witnessed by the Duke himself. I thought my days as a helpless orphan were over.
But right before our wedding, he coldly informed me that my status was being revoked. I was to enter his family as a lesser consort.
The title of primary wife was being given to his lover, Journey. She hid behind Kile, wearing a spotless white dress and trembling like a fragile lotus.
"Cassie, please don't blame him, I can live without a title," she cried, playing the perfect victim.
Kile shielded her, glaring at me with pure disgust, shouting that I was being completely unreasonable.
The next day, the entire Elder Council cornered me in their grand hall. They told me that as a "Dragonless" nobody, I should be immensely grateful for any scrap they threw my way.
They all stared at me, waiting for me to swallow my pride and accept a lifetime of humiliation.
They thought I was entirely broken. They thought I had no backing and no choice but to bow down to their cruelty.
Instead, I looked straight at the Chief Elder and smiled.
"I refuse to be a lesser consort," I announced clearly, watching Kile's smug expression freeze. "But to preserve our families' dignity, I will fulfill the contract."
I looked right into Kile's shocked eyes.
"I will marry your dead older brother, Lord Ayden." Flash Marriage To My Mysterious Disabled Husband
rabb For five years, I poured my blood and sweat into restoring ancient manuscripts to save my fiancé Chalmers's family business from bankruptcy.
But on the morning of our wedding, he abandoned me at the altar.
He rushed off to comfort his childhood friend, Edla, who claimed to have a catastrophic injury. Under local guild laws, if I wasn't legally married by sunset, Chalmers's family would seize the proprietary rights to every single manuscript I had restored.
When I went home to pack my things, Edla showed up leaning on Chalmers, wearing bandages stained with fake bakery dye and a luxury sweater that still had the anti-theft tag attached.
She cried theatrical tears, begging me not to punish Chalmers.
Instead of seeing her obvious lies, Chalmers called me a heartless, spiteful statue. He demanded I apologize, arrogantly offering a cheap steak dinner as compensation for my ruined wedding.
He sneered that no man in town would ever marry a penniless orphan like me, and I would be begging on his doorstep by the end of the week.
I looked at the man I had supported through 47 of Edla's orchestrated emergencies, feeling utterly disgusted by his endless manipulation and greed.
Did he really think my dignity and my life's work were worth so little?
I threw his cheap engagement ring directly into the greasy trash can.
Then, I walked straight into the municipal registry hall and proposed to Everette Holmes—a paralyzed, debt-ridden outcast who radiated an unnerving, freezing aura.
This time, I would rather tie my fate to a dangerous stranger than let Chalmers own my future. 
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