Super Spender - Chapter 599 - 593: Going Back Again – Part 2

She was the most unpopular female wolf in the New Moon Pack, as lowly as a blade of grass. Eight years ago, her mother went missing, her father was killed, and her entire pack was exterminated. Thus, she had been demoted to the lowest servant level by her father’s murderer. For eight years, she had been beaten, cursed, and starved, but she kept her identity a secret.

This year, she turned eighteen years old.

He was the alpha of the largest werewolf pack in all of America and shone like the sun. With his perfectly sculpted face and a tremendous amount of money, no werewolf didn’t know his name, and he was the dream lover of every woman. Everything seemed perfect, except for the fact that he didn’t have a mate yet.

This year, he turned twenty-six years old.

What kind of spark or conflict would there be when they meet by chance?

“Rose, I can give you everything you want. In exchange, you have to be mine.”

“Alpha, the truth is, I’m—”

“Oh, Jesus f*cking Christ! Now, you will never escape me, my Luna.

Maria is a werewolf of the Veilwood Pack, where every woman is born with a gift. But with her twenty-first birthday drawing near and no ability to call her own, her family arranges a marriage that feels more like a cage than a future.On the run from a fate she refuses to accept, Maria narrowly escapes a predator who wants to claim her for himself. Shaken and desperate, she stumbles into the arms of another man whose eyes burn with recognition—her mate.But the predator is still out there, and he wants Maria just as much.Torn between the mate who awakens her heart and the danger that tempts her into the shadows, Maria finds herself desired by two men who will stop at nothing to claim her.Love, obsession, and destiny intertwine, and her choice could cost her everything.

After Lin Xu died, she discovered that the world she was in was a novel.Her eldest son liked to imprison the female protagonist of the novel, engaging in sinister villainous acts with a dark room play.Her youngest son would unfailingly draw substitute’s blood and snatch substitutes’ kidneys for the female protagonist’s legal antagonist — his unrequited love.Her only daughter was the romantic fool forever revolving around the male protagonist of the novel.If children are not disciplined, the mother is to blame. After being reborn, Lin Xu felt she should step in and discipline her wayward children.However, before she could take action, her eldest son’s dark, handsome, and usually cold face blushed slightly as he asked in a low voice, “Can I touch my head?”The middle son snorted and turned his head, his tone petulant, “I… I don’t want to go home, but if you insist, I’ll do it begrudgingly.”The youngest daughter rushed over, mercilessly pushing her brothers aside, “Mom, come and teach me how to solve this problem~”Latter, both sons fought over the bowl of noodles Lin Xu cooked. What was a novel’s female protagonist? Nothing compared to their mother.The daughter transformed herself, letting nothing from any novel’s male protagonist interfere with her studies!The family was blissfully happy.Latter, the revived, amnesiac husband suddenly appeared, cornering her against the wall, his eyes full of struggle, “Even if you’re married, I still love you.”Lin Xu pretended to be serious, “Is that so, then what should we do?”He hugged her tightly, his voice muffled and pained, “Divorce him!”Lin Xu chuckled secretly, “I’ll divorce him right away.”Latter, after the husband regained his memory, he said through gritted teeth, “Over my dead body will we divorce!”

war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”