Bloodbound Scallion

Phoenix Rising: The Scarred Heiress's Revenge

Xiao Hong Mao

I lived as the "scarred ghost" of the Stephens penthouse, a wife kept in the shadows because my facial burns offended my billionaire husband's aesthetic. For years, I endured Kason's coldness and my family's abuse, a submissive puppet who believed she had nowhere else to go. The end came with a blue folder tossed onto my silk sheets. Kason's mistress was back, and he wanted me out by sunset, offering a five-million-dollar "silence fee" to go hide my face in the countryside. The betrayal cut deep when I discovered my father had already traded my divorce for a corporate bailout. My step-sister mocked my "trashy" appearance at a high-end boutique, while the sales staff treated me like a common thief. At home, my father threatened to cut off my mother's life-saving medicine unless I crawled back to Kason to beg for a better deal. I was the girl who took the blame for a fire she didn't start, the wife who worshipped a man who never looked her in the eye, and the daughter used as a human bargaining chip. I was supposed to be broken, penniless, and desperate. But the woman who stood up wasn't the weak Elease Finch anymore; she was Phoenix, a tactical predator with a $500 million secret. I signed the divorce papers without a single tear, walked past my stunned husband, and wiped the Finch family's bank accounts clean with a few taps on my phone. "Your money is dirty," I told Kason with a cold smile. "I prefer clean hands." The cage is open, the hunt has begun, and I'm starting with the people who thought a scar made me weak.

Modern Revenge

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Twelve years ago

Ronan Duskbane knelt in the snow, bleeding out, while the wolves who once swore loyalty to him circled like vultures.

The high cliffs of Blackthorn Keep loomed behind him, the scent of burning wood and blood thick in the air. His father, the Alpha King, lay dead at his feet his throat ripped open by the very pack who had once sworn to protect him.

Betrayal.

The word burned through Ronan's skull as the elders stepped forward, their faces carved from ice.

"You have broken our laws, Ronan Duskbane." The High Elder's voice was cold, final. "Your blood is cursed. Your soul is damned. And from this night forward, you are no longer Alpha of the Bloodmoon Pack."

Ronan clenched his teeth, feeling the burn of the silver cuffs biting into his wrists. They thought they could break him. They were wrong.

He lifted his gaze, locking eyes with the wolves who had once been his brothers. "You think you can kill me?" His voice was raw, dark with something more than pain. Something ancient.

The High Elder sneered. "No. But we can banish you."

And then, under the full Blood Moon, the elders cursed him.

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