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What if an omega servant can hear the inner wolf of the ruthless Alpha King—when no one else can, not even the king himself? Will it be a secret that save her life… or destroy her?

Betrayed, humiliated, and left for dead, Ria is given a second chance at life when she is reborn in a dangerous werewolf world. Armed with memories of her painful past and guided by a powerful AI companion, she vows to take revenge on those who destroyed her. But as hidden powers awaken, mysterious enemies emerge, and Alpha Klein becomes entangled in her fate, Ria discovers that her rebirth is connected to an ancient secret that could change the entire werewolf kingdom. Now, with revenge in her heart,she must decide whether to destroy the world that hurt her—or become powerful enough to rule it.

Everyone in class can hear my thoughts, but there's a catch—the "thoughts" they hear have been deliberately altered. During the exam, while I swiftly fill out the answer sheet, the rest of the class stays put. They eagerly wait to hear the answers in my head. [The answer for this is C, of course. These questions are exactly the same as the ones Ms. Clarke revealed to me. I'm going to be the top student again without even breaking a sweat!] Everyone else immediately copy my answers. Ultimately, apart from me, they all end up failing the exam. During our swimming class, my leg cramps, and I start sinking underwater. I try to scream for help, but my classmates hear something entirely different in my head. [I'm going to act like I'm drowning and see who's the idiot who jumps in to save me. Hahaha!] In the end, they all watch indifferently as I drown. My eyes open again. I've gone back in time to the day of the exam. This time, I can also hear these "thoughts" of mine that have been altered.

Being a mute used to be simple before all the craziness started. I just can't talk and that's who I am. Mum has learned to accept that and I guess so have I. Everything was just fine in my high school in Shanghai. I had finally made it to year twelve and even though I was in China, I was actually being treated as a human being despite my disability. Things were definitely not perfect but I would give anything to go back to that, like it was before. I heard my first voice that year, right at the beginning of year 12. I didn’t really have any real friends, but I was used to it and before the voices started, I was fine with that. But it all changed when I first heard them. The voices inside their heads started then and my life was never the same. They weren't just thinking about school or they girls or guys they were into, no they were thinking about doing things, doing horrible things to each other and I was the only one that knew how messed up they really were.

I was in the office bathroom stall when I heard them trash-talking me. The intern I'd trained for three months whined, "She's a heartless witch—like a robot with zero brain cells." I was about to swing the door open when another voice jumped in, laughing. "Documents incomplete." "Receipts don't match." "No signature? Denied." "Seriously, we've all memorized the freaking rulebot's script!" Once they were gone, I headed back to my desk. The intern stormed in and slammed a fat stack of reimbursement forms in front of me. "Don't go on another power trip and block everyone's claims." I skimmed the obviously fake receipts. Normally, I'd tear into her. But this time, I just smiled. "My head's killing me. Can't read the fine print."

He almost never texts me first, and in person he barely says a word. In three years together, he's never remembered a single anniversary, and he's never once suggested we celebrate a holiday. But the second I message him first, he lights up, all "baby" this and "baby" that, fussing over me, coaxing me to sleep. Sometimes I'd get this strange feeling that there were two different Noahs. His explanation was that he was just bad with words face-to-face, and that texting or voice notes felt like less pressure. I kept telling myself that being together meant meeting each other halfway. He was quiet and reserved, so I'd be the one to reach out. He forgot anniversaries, so I booked the restaurant and reminded him to keep the night free. He had no time to schedule our engagement shoot, so I handled the whole thing with the studio myself. He was too busy with work to help us move, so I packed everything alone, booked the movers, and got it all done. When I was so worn out I was about to break, I'd send him a voice note, and he'd say, "I'm so sorry, baby. The lab was insane today. I couldn't be there for you, and it kills me to watch you run yourself into the ground." Hearing how guilty he sounded, all my hurt just melted away. And that's how I carried three years of this relationship on my own, running on the flawless tenderness he only ever gave me online. Until today, when I found a program on his laptop called Boyfriend Assistant. It analyzed every message I sent and generated the perfect reply, the perfect response, every single time. Cold snap? It sent: Bundle up, baby. Time of the month? It pinged an API and auto-ordered hot chocolate to my door. All those late nights he spent "working," the gentle voice notes that lulled me to sleep, every one of them was synthesized in Noah's voice. For three years, the person who'd been there for me, day and night, was never Noah at all. For three years, I'd been performing a one-woman show.