Reborn To Save My Broken Lover
I was dying in a cold hospital bed, listening to the monitor count down my final seconds.
As a ghost, I watched my own funeral. My popular friends and wealthy family soon moved on, but one person stayed.
Cas Riley. The invisible outcast from the back of my history class.
He brought a white rose to my grave every single day, withering away until he collapsed on the frozen ground, dying of a broken heart for a girl who barely knew his name.
Opening my eyes again, the hospital smell was gone. I was reborn back in my high school classroom.
I immediately tracked him down, only to witness the brutal hell he was trapped in.
He was humiliated by a cruel foreman for pennies, violently slapped by his uncle over his sick mother's medical money, and forced into bloody street fights.
He was starving, covered in bruises, and completely alone.
When I tried to buy him medicine and step into his life to protect him, he violently pushed me away in the pouring rain.
"Stay out of my life! To protect you, I have to fight, and when I fight, I lose everything!"
He wasn't rejecting me out of hate. He was terrified that his dark, violent reality would drag me down with him.
Standing soaked in the rain, my resolve hardened like steel.
Gentle kindness wasn't going to save him from this hell.
To protect the boy who died for me, I had to become ruthless enough to tear down his entire rotten world and build him a new one.
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Chapter 5
She couldn't stay away. Not after what she'd seen.
Genesis didn't follow him this time. She went straight to his apartment building and waited on the chipped concrete steps outside, watching the sky bleed from orange to a bruised purple. She had to talk to him, face to face. She had to let him know he wasn't invisible.
The front door of the building creaked open, and a man stumbled out. He reeked of stale beer and sweat. Ray Donahue, a neighbor she'd seen coming and going. His eyes, small and bloodshot, landed on Genesis, and a greasy smile spread across his face.
"Well, hello there, little bird," he slurred, moving toward her. "Whatcha doin' all alone in the dark?"
Genesis stood up immediately, her skin crawling. "I'm waiting for someone."
"I'm someone," he said, closing the distance. He reached out and grabbed her wrist, his grip surprisingly strong. "Why don't you wait with me? We could have some fun."
"Let go of me!" she yelled, yanking her arm, but he held fast. Panic, cold and sharp, seized her. He started to drag her toward the shadows of the building's entryway.
"I said, let go!"
"You heard her."
The voice was quiet, flat, and colder than the grave.
Both Genesis and Ray turned. Cas was standing at the edge of the street, bathed in the orange glow of a streetlight. The exhaustion was gone from his face, replaced by a look of terrifying, focused rage.
He moved with a sudden lurch. He didn't shout, didn't posture. He bent down, his hand closing around a loose brick from a crumbling retaining wall.
Before Ray could even process the threat, Cas was on him. He lunged, bringing the brick down with desperate force. It wasn't a calculated strike, but a raw explosion of rage, and it connected with a sickening crunch against the man's hand.
There was a wet crack, followed by a scream of agony from Ray.
His grip vanished. Genesis scrambled away, her heart trying to beat its way out of her chest.
Ray was on the ground, clutching his mangled hand, howling.
Cas stood over him, the brick still raised, his chest heaving. The look in his eyes was wild, feral. He was going to hit him again.
"Cas, no!" Genesis cried, rushing forward and grabbing his arm. "Stop! It's okay, he let me go!"
Her touch, her voice, seemed to break the spell. The madness in his eyes receded, replaced by a dawning horror. He looked from Ray, to the brick in his hand, to her.
The brick dropped to the pavement with a heavy thud.
"I'm calling the cops! You're dead, you psycho bastard!" Ray shrieked from the ground.
Cas didn't even look at him. He grabbed Genesis's hand-gently this time-and pulled her toward the apartment building. He half-dragged her up the rickety stairs to the second floor and fumbled with his keys, finally shoving the door open and pulling her inside.
He slammed the door shut, plunging them into the near-darkness of his small apartment.
It was the first time she had been inside his world. The room was sparse, almost empty. A mattress on the floor, a single wooden chair, a small stack of books. But it was spotlessly clean.
"Thank you," she whispered, her voice shaky.
He let go of her hand as if it were on fire. He turned his back to her, his shoulders rigid. "You see?" he said, his voice a low, rough rasp. "This is what happens. This is me."
He spun around to face her, his face a mask of self-loathing. "I'm violent. I'm dangerous. I'm the trash that lives in a place where men like that feel brave."
A bitter, broken laugh escaped his lips. "Are you happy now? You got your little charity project to perform for you. You can see what a monster I am and go back to your perfect life."
He was pushing her away. He was showing her his ugliest parts, hoping it would be enough to make her run. He wasn't angry at her. He was terrified for her.
Tears welled in her eyes, but she shook her head, her voice firm. "I'm not scared of you, Cas."
His face crumpled in frustration. He strode to the door and wrenched it open, pointing out into the dark, grimy hallway.
"Get out," he snarled, the words tearing from his throat. "Go. Don't you get it? He's going to call the cops. They're going to come here. Because of you. So go. And don't ever come back."
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8.0
On the night of their third wedding anniversary, Ashley was ready to reveal a secret to her husband-
She was pregnant.
But moments after their passionate intimacy, her Alpha coldly delivered the blow-he wanted a divorce.
His fated mate had returned.
Stripped of her wolf spirit, abandoned by the pack, and carrying his child, Ashley was cast aside like a disposable Omega.
Just as she prepared to leave alone-
The boy she had once rejected had now risen as the most formidable Alpha King. The possessive hunger in his gaze sent shivers through her-did she dare face him? Was this vengeance, or something more? But did she even have a choice?
7.2
Clifton, the god of esports, was secretly battling a career-ending wrist injury to protect his team.
A year ago, he kissed his duo partner, Justice, only to be met with violent disgust. Justice shoved him away and dry-heaved in the rain, looking at him like a monster.
Humiliated by the straight man's raw revulsion, Clifton cut him out of his life.
But now, Justice suddenly appeared at Clifton's club as a rookie tryout.
Instead of an ambitious climber, Justice played the perfect, pathetic victim. He cowered, trembled, and acted terrified whenever Clifton was near.
He even signed a bloodsucking contract with a toxic teammate, sparking rumors he was brought in to replace Clifton as captain.
During a scrimmage, Clifton hesitated to shoot because he remembered Justice had just severely burned his hand.
Justice showed no mercy. He ruthlessly gunned Clifton down, humiliating the captain in front of the entire coaching staff.
Clifton was consumed by blinding rage and betrayal.
If Justice was so disgusted by him, why did he fake his devotion for six months just to use him?
Why was he acting like helpless prey now, after trampling all over Clifton's pride?
Determined to rip off the liar's disguise, Clifton dragged Justice into a live stream in front of sixty thousand viewers.
"He's asking if you are in love with me."
Clifton smiled cruelly, waiting for the public execution. But just as the trap snapped shut, a choked, terrified gasp came through the headset.
7.1
The last thing I remembered was the blinding flash of my starship crashing. But instead of a rescue crew, I woke up tied to a wooden post, surrounded by hostile beastmen.
My universal translator kicked in just in time to hear their priestess, Chelsea, declare that I was a cursed demon who ruined their hunt. To save the clan from winter starvation, I was to be burned alive.
The flames were already blistering my legs, and jagged stones hurled by the crowd gashed my forehead. I barely negotiated a three-day reprieve to find them food, venturing into the deadly primeval forest.
I found a massive supply of wild potatoes and even gained the protection of Bronson, a terrifyingly powerful saber-toothed tiger beastman.
But Chelsea wouldn't stop.
She labeled my food as poisonous, tried to sentence me to starve in a penitent's cave, and when my agricultural knowledge proved her wrong, she invoked an ancient law. She incited the tribe's savage warriors to fight over me, turning me into breeding property.
I was a scientist offering them endless food, yet their primitive ignorance and one woman's vicious jealousy kept pushing me toward a brutal end. I was terrified, completely powerless against their monstrous physical strength.
As five ruthless challengers drew their bone axes to claim me, I begged Bronson to leave me and run.
Instead, he pulled me against his scarred chest and kissed me fiercely in front of the entire clan.
"She is my mate," he roared, unleashing a soul-crushing aura. "Anyone who wants her, come at me together."
9.5
Alina was the eldest daughter of the prestigious Padilla family, but everyone mocked her as a defective dud who couldn't cast a single spell.
The moment she woke up, her father and younger sister Karina barged into her room, demanding she sign a transfer agreement to the Aethelgard Order-the most brutal faction on the continent.
It wasn't just a transfer; it was a legal disownment. In her past life, Alina didn't realize Karina was also reborn. She had dropped to her knees and begged to stay. Her reward? Her magic was violently drained from her veins by her own family. Her fiancé drove a blade through her chest, and her sister stood over her bleeding body, smiling. She had ruined her hands making potions for them, only to be discarded like trash.
The phantom pain of her chest being ripped open still burned behind her ribs. Looking at the hypocritical family waiting for her tears, she felt nothing but exhausting disgust. Why should she ever be their stepping stone again?
"For the honor of the family, you leave today."
Her father sneered as she calmly bit her thumb and pressed her bloody fingerprint onto the contract. This time, Alina didn't cry. She packed a single bag and walked out the door, heading straight for the deadly Aethelgard Order to show them what a true monster looked like.
9.7
Eighteen months ago, the man I loved shattered my heart, claiming everything between us was a mistake. Now, he's back, a ghost of his former self, a rookie tryout in my pro esports team. And I will make him regret crawling back.
Clifton, captain of a legendary esports team, was secretly battling a severe wrist injury that threatened his career, every match a fight against his own body. He pushed through the pain, ignoring doctors' warnings, desperate to maintain his god-like status.
His world was already on the edge, but nothing prepared him for seeing Justice Terry again in the team basement. Justice, pale and trembling, his eyes wide with naked terror, was now a rookie tryout.
Clifton had spent a year and a half trying to forget that rainy Chicago alley, the raw revulsion in Justice's eyes, the whispered "it wasn't real" that had left him heartbroken. Justice had vanished, and Clifton had erased every trace. Now, the boy who once looked at him like he was the sun was back, flinching at his touch, displaying a deep, primal fear. Amidst sponsor pressure and whispers of being "washed," Clifton saw Justice's return as a chance for vengeance. He publicly humiliated Justice on a live stream, forcing him into a suicide mission, then coldly benched him.
Yet, the satisfaction never came. Instead, a hollow emptiness and a torrent of questions: What had truly happened in the past? Why was Justice here, and what trauma had carved such fear into his bones?
Clifton, unwilling to be fooled again, swore to uncover every secret and every lie. He would force Justice to explain why he had returned, even if it meant tearing down everything they both had left.
8.9
Ava Kidd just wanted to escape her abusive stepmother when she got drunk at a high-end club and stumbled into the wrong hotel room.
She woke up the next morning in a luxury penthouse, lying naked next to a terrifyingly handsome man covered in her scratch marks.
Recalling rumors of the hotel's secret underground concierge, she immediately assumed she had accidentally slept with an elite male escort.
Desperate to settle the bill, she offered him her only debit card with a pathetic $1,800.
But the man, who was actually Garrison Terry, the ruthless billionaire CEO, was deeply insulted by the cheap plastic.
He trapped her against the bed, coldly demanding a half-million-dollar service fee.
When Ava frantically offered her dead mother's tarnished locket as collateral, he cruelly dismissed it as worthless junk.
Ava was humiliated, her heart pounding with absolute terror.
She didn't understand why this arrogant gigolo was acting like a deranged extortionist, demanding a fortune from a broke girl who had clearly made a mistake.
Furious and refusing to cower, she sneaked out, put on his oversized designer shirt, and aggressively ate his $800 truffle breakfast.
Having no money left, she grabbed her cheap red lipstick, wrote a defiant IOU on his expensive linen napkin, and fled the hotel.
She thought she had escaped a criminal, but upstairs, the billionaire traced her lipstick-stained name with a predatory smile.
"Ava Kidd, I will absolutely find you."