His Untamed Prey: The Reborn Heiress

Chapter 3

Word Count: 751 | Released on: 14/05/2026

sharp, stabbing pain shot through h

's fake smile, the cold stares of the Wyatt family, the humilia

le, trembling hands-hands that had never held a gun or snapped a neck. For a brief, surreal second, the name 'Lin' echoed like a ghost

He jerked his chin at Cletus, ordering him to g

, muttering curses under his breat

t his dirty hand to rip the sil

brushed her cold skin

, pressing perfectly on the pulse point to numb his arm. He was off-balance, crouching, expecting

his mouth to yell, Eliza used his arm

own body, she twisted violently to the right. It was a textbook ground-fighting sub

ell. Cletus's cervical spine snapped. He coll

m above. They yelled Cletus's name,

ched into Cletus's pocket and pulled out his s

ured ribs. She couldn't overpower two armed men with o

arm. She pressed her back flat against the concrete load-b

Dwayne crept down the stair

ody water. Both men gasped, cursing and

ar. Eliza launched herself from th

Her right hand drove the switchblade across h

hoved Dwayne's dying body forward, sending him

rror. He swung his knife wi

c blade. She slammed the heavy handle of her switc

d and dropped

ashed upward, cleanly severing the tendons in his

ng in the rain. He looked up at Eliza as

There was zero human warmth in her eyes,

teeth and her left hand to tie her fractured right arm tig

ed through the storm. Someone in the

dy was failing. She had

g body. She walked out into the f

ooked up at the winding mountain road in the distan

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His Untamed Prey: The Reborn Heiress

Yan Shui Romance

“I was the top commander of a black-ops military program. After slaughtering my way through a hellish mission, I reached the extraction helicopter, trusting my second-in-command to watch my back. But the moment our hands locked, he didn't pull me up. Instead, he plunged a syringe of lethal neurotoxin directly into my neck. He aimed his gun at my chest, coldly stating that I was too dangerous to live. My lungs stopped, and I died in a pool of my own blood. But the endless blackness suddenly shattered. My consciousness violently forced its way into a new, broken shell. I woke up in a freezing alley, soaked in muddy rain. This body belonged to seventeen-year-old Eliza Wyatt. A massive wave of foreign memories crashed into my brain. Her own younger sister had just stood at the top of the stairs with a mocking smile, watching street thugs beat Eliza to death. "Take good care of the Wyatt family's eldest daughter. Tonight is the night she finally disappears." The endless humiliation, the cold stares of her family, and the brutal betrayal by her own blood flashed before my eyes. Why was this fragile girl treated like garbage and pushed to her death by the very people who should have protected her? I looked down at my pale, trembling hands. The top commander was dead, but in this bleeding shell, Eliza Wyatt was very much alive. I picked up a switchblade from the bloody puddle and stood up in the storm. It was time to hunt.”