The Scapegoat's Return

The Scapegoat's Return

Gavin

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Halloween night in the mortal world. The Rift, our fleeting portal between the Shadowlands and their realm, was closing fast. Spirits around me scrambled, desperate to return. But not Chloe. She stood at its edge, Ectoplasmic Flames – her rare, ghostly green power – roaring from her palms, forcing it open. She was buying time. For him. Liam. My gut twisted. Not with worry, but with a chilling sense of déjà vu. This was precisely how it all unfurled in my previous life, my destiny intertwined with her misguided devotion to him. A devotion that led directly to my destruction. I remembered every horrifying detail. Chloe, then my girlfriend, screaming accusations, blaming me for Liam's end, as she led the Enforcers straight to me. Right when I was on the brink of ascending to Arch-Spirit. The Enforcers didn't care for truth; they simply tore me apart. To be annihilated, merely a scapegoat for her idolized fool. The betrayal, the agony, burned as fresh as ever. Why did she always choose him? Why did I have to suffer for their toxic dance, not once, but twice? But now, I was back. Reborn to this exact crossroads, this critical choice. To everyone else, I was just a low-ranking Patroller. Good. Let them underestimate me. Because I understood one thing perfectly: I had a new plan. A painful, meticulous plan. This time, they would both pay.

Introduction

Halloween night in the mortal world. The Rift, our fleeting portal between the Shadowlands and their realm, was closing fast. Spirits around me scrambled, desperate to return. But not Chloe. She stood at its edge, Ectoplasmic Flames – her rare, ghostly green power – roaring from her palms, forcing it open. She was buying time. For him. Liam.

My gut twisted. Not with worry, but with a chilling sense of déjà vu. This was precisely how it all unfurled in my previous life, my destiny intertwined with her misguided devotion to him. A devotion that led directly to my destruction.

I remembered every horrifying detail. Chloe, then my girlfriend, screaming accusations, blaming me for Liam's end, as she led the Enforcers straight to me. Right when I was on the brink of ascending to Arch-Spirit. The Enforcers didn't care for truth; they simply tore me apart.

To be annihilated, merely a scapegoat for her idolized fool. The betrayal, the agony, burned as fresh as ever. Why did she always choose him? Why did I have to suffer for their toxic dance, not once, but twice?

But now, I was back. Reborn to this exact crossroads, this critical choice. To everyone else, I was just a low-ranking Patroller. Good. Let them underestimate me. Because I understood one thing perfectly: I had a new plan. A painful, meticulous plan. This time, they would both pay.

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When Love Turns to Ash

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My world revolved around Jax Harding, my older brother's captivating rockstar friend. From sixteen, I adored him; at eighteen, I clung to his casual promise: "When you're 22, maybe I'll settle down." That offhand comment became my life's beacon, guiding every choice, meticulously planning my twenty-second birthday as our destiny. But on that pivotal day in a Lower East Side bar, clutching my gift, my dream exploded. I overheard Jax' s cold voice: "Can't believe Savvy's showing up. She' s still hung up on that stupid thing I said." Then the crushing plot: "We' re gonna tell Savvy I' m engaged to Chloe, maybe even hint she' s pregnant. That should scare her off." My gift, my future, slipped from my numb fingers. I fled into the cold New York rain, devastated by betrayal. Later, Jax introduced Chloe as his "fiancée" while his bandmates mocked my "adorable crush"-he did nothing. As an art installation fell, he saved Chloe, abandoning me to severe injury. In the hospital, he came for "damage control," then shockingly shoved me into a fountain, leaving me to bleed, calling me a "jealous psycho." How could the man I loved, who once saved me, become this cruel and publicly humiliate me? Why was my devotion seen as an annoyance to be brutally extinguished with lies and assault? Was I just a problem, my loyalty met with hatred? I would not be his victim. Injured and betrayed, I made an unshakeable vow: I was done. I blocked his number and everyone connected to him, severing ties. This was not an escape; this was my rebirth. Florence awaited, a new life on my terms, unburdened by broken promises.

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Being second best is practically in my DNA. My sister got the love, the attention, the spotlight. And now, even her damn fiancé. Technically, Rhys Granger was my fiancé now-billionaire, devastatingly hot, and a walking Wall Street wet dream. My parents shoved me into the engagement after Catherine disappeared, and honestly? I didn't mind. I'd crushed on Rhys for years. This was my chance, right? My turn to be the chosen one? Wrong. One night, he slapped me. Over a mug. A stupid, chipped, ugly mug my sister gave him years ago. That's when it hit me-he didn't love me. He didn't even see me. I was just a warm-bodied placeholder for the woman he actually wanted. And apparently, I wasn't even worth as much as a glorified coffee cup. So I slapped him right back, dumped his ass, and prepared for disaster-my parents losing their minds, Rhys throwing a billionaire tantrum, his terrifying family plotting my untimely demise. Obviously, I needed alcohol. A lot of alcohol. Enter him. Tall, dangerous, unfairly hot. The kind of man who makes you want to sin just by existing. I'd met him only once before, and that night, he just happened to be at the same bar as my drunk, self-pitying self. So I did the only logical thing: I dragged him into a hotel room and ripped off his clothes. It was reckless. It was stupid. It was completely ill-advised. But it was also: Best. Sex. Of. My. Life. And, as it turned out, the best decision I'd ever made. Because my one-night stand isn't just some random guy. He's richer than Rhys, more powerful than my entire family, and definitely more dangerous than I should be playing with. And now, he's not letting me go.

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