My Mother-in-Law is Reborn [Seventies] - Chapter 129

At the age of 15, He Jin found himself a “husband” in an online game, their love was filled with loving affection and sweetness. However, because his study was being interfered with, his parent cut off the internet, he didn’t even have a chance to say goodbye and had to disappear from the game.

“Look at you, you were this teeny-weeny when you were little.”Using both hands, Shao Zifeng gestures how small his pet beast used to be. He then raises his head and looks at the gigantic being in front of him.“Just how did you grow into this ferocious form?”

“Ye Ling, be good and just surrender to me!” A familiar, nauseating voice echoed in her ears, and Ye Ling realized that she had been reborn!

In her previous life, Ye Ling had suffered on behalf of her stepsister in the countryside out of familial love. That’s when she caught the attention of the despicable beast before her.

In her previous life, he had forced himself upon her and used public opinion to coerce her into marriage.

Ye Ling’s married life was even more miserable. Not only did she have to work to support the extensive household, but she also endured domestic violence from this b*stard.

She miscarried due to the abuse, where she suffered severe bleeding, which resulted in her inability to get pregnant again. Later, the village leader promised her a divorce if she could get into university. But to her surprise, this scoundrel had secretly sold her acceptance letter to someone else!

In her second chance at life, Ye Ling decided to change her destiny. She wanted everyone who had hurt her to suffer!

In an era where the law had yet to be widely enforced, Ye Ling’s first act was to report the incidents to the police. She was no longer as weak as she was in her previous life and relied on her talent and hard work to acquire medical skills.

Her stepsister wanted to snatch away her good fortune? Wishful thinking!

Her father wanted to sell her to an older man with violent tendencies? Dream on!

She studied medicine, grew herbs, pursued higher education, and inadvertently became a renowned miracle doctor.

The man who had once saved her from dire straits looked at her with pride and said, “As expected of my wife!”

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Three rejections. Three shattered dreams. That was Layla’s reality, all because she was different—a half-shifter in a world obsessed with purity. Ostracized, shunned, and finally sold off like a pawn to the most feared ruler alive—the Lycan King. He was ruthless, a king with a graveyard of brides, each one a ghostly reminder of a fate worse than death.Layla loathed him. Hated the way his gaze cold and fathomless, held no warmth for her. Hated how his touch, both thrilling and terrifying, sent an uninvited chill down her spine.---“I hate you!” I screamed, hands clenched so tight my knuckles ached.He sighed, a smirk curling at the edge of his lips, his tone mocking as he closed his book with a deliberate snap. “Stressed, are we?” he asked, strolling toward me, each step reminding me exactly who held the power here.“Lucky for you,” he drawled, rolling up his sleeves as he stopped just inches away, “I know exactly 70 ways to ease those nerves.” His fingers brushed my cheek, a touch that seemed to burn into my skin. “The first… a hug.” His voice dropped to a rough whisper as he leaned in, breath hot against my ear. “And the rest... well, that's 69? what do you say about that?”I swallowed hard, my heart thudding wildly as he tilted his head, waiting for me to react, that insufferable smirk still in place.“What’s the matter, darling?” he murmured, a taunt lingering in his gaze.---A Dangerous ObsessionCan she resist the pull, or will she dance into the flames of her own destruction?A dark dive into obsession, raw need, and the razor’s edge between desire and devastation.---LYCAN KING CASSIANI will tear her apart piece by piece, feeding the wildfire that grips her with each shuddered breath. Like air to flame, I’ll claim every inch, drawing heat from her skin until it sinks into her bones.Her pulse will race under my hands, her breaths shallow, pleading. Her eyes may scream, but her lips will still murmur my name. That first taste of fear will only feed something deeper—a need that burns through her veins, molten and fierce.And just when she’s too far gone to turn back, I’ll twist the knife, giving her the pain she’s learned to crave.She’ll be the moth to my flame, helpless against the very thing that will consume her.