His Untamed Prey: The Reborn Heiress

Chapter 4

Word Count: 627 | Released on: 14/05/2026

ddy slope. Black dirt packed t

ak tree, gasping for air. Her lungs burne

mind, attempting to awaken the biological

ss. But the cardiovascular system of this normal

through her chest, forcing a wet, ragged cough f

pted the reality that she had to rely sol

ned dress. She tied it tightly around a d

roar tore through the sile

d of high-octane fuel bu

and direction. A vehicle meant a way out. She couldn't wander aimlessly; she

coustic signature of the engines, gritting her tee

seeking her extraction point. Down in the canyon,

rs lined up behind a starting line

rs partied in the downpour. This was an illegal u

e wore a custom-tailored black dress shirt. He he

excitedly at a modified red Ferrari. G

ace his stock Aston Martin against a c

ushed his gold-rimmed glasses up his nose. He smiled

smoke. His eyes were dead, showing no

ked over. He arrogantly flipped his

o ice. He looked at the tattooe

nd snapped his fingers at his

over a black card. Duval spoke two words,

creams. The stakes had j

crushed it beneath his leather shoe. He

lmly watched the scene unfold. He

al computer. She analyzed the layout of the canyo

before she walked out of these w

k vine. She slid down the steep rock

re the first hairpin turn of the track-the

Chapter End

Claim Your Bonus at the APP

Open

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.”