How Does 'Born As The Daughter Of The Wicked Woman' End?

My father was the God-King, and he loved my mortal mother with all his heart. To help her adapt to life in the divine realm, he even infused his own blood into her, granting her eternal youth and elevating her to the rank of a goddess. Defying the unanimous opposition of all gods, he built a resplendent palace solely for her here in the divine realm, making her the happiest woman across all heavens. Yet he never loved me — his first child, born of him and my mother. As time went by, he visited my mother less and less frequently. Eventually, I passed away. Mother begged him to seek justice for me, but he only replied indifferently, "We shall have many more children." His words crushed every last glimmer of hope in her heart. Mother grew utterly disillusioned with him, and resolved to avenge me with her own hands. The God-King’s patience toward her dwindled day by day. It was as if I had been born bearing nothing but misfortune. To avenge my wrongful death, Mother cast aside everything she once held dear. When she finally turned her back and left the divine realm forever, that aloof, domineering God-King went mad. He chased after her, begging desperately for her to return.

Betrayed by her own step mother and stepsister, she was left to die—her body dumped into the cold sea. Everyone thought she was gone forever. But she survived. Now, she’s back with a new name, a new face, and a heart hardened by pain. She’s not here for love. She’s here for revenge.

The Thornes built their aromatherapy business generations ago, but their ancestors made a fatal mistake and brought down a divine curse. For ninety-nine generations, every Thorne heir drew their punishment on their eighteenth birthday. Julian Thorne was the last. He drew the worst punishment: death from hemorrhage in ten months. The only way to break it was to marry a witch from the Old Bloodline and complete the life transference ritual. The witch inscribes a sigil on a parchment and infuses the child's blood essence on it, and the curse transfers to the parchment. I was that witch. My family owed the Thornes a blood debt going back three generations, so I married Julian, gave him a child, and performed the ritual to save his life. I was terrified of missing the ritual window, so I didn't even use anesthesia as the baby was cut out of my womb. However, Julian drove ninety-nine soul spikes into my body while I was still bleeding from the delivery, then set me on fire. "Miriam is the real heir. You're nothing but a fraud who wanted to marry up. "You drove her into the wilderness to protect your position. She went into labor alone and died with the baby. Even dying, she thought of me. She finished the ritual and saved my life. "You deceived my father. I'm destroying your soul. You'll pay for what you did to them." He ignored my screaming while he drained our newborn's blood essence. I watched helplessly as my child's life faded. Then I was nailed to a cross and burned until there was nothing left. When I opened my eyes, I was back on my wedding day.

For generations, the women of House Silvermoon have carried a unique blessing. Our blood ensures high fertility. More importantly, it purifies the lineage of those we bind with. Because of this, the moment a daughter of our house comes of age, she becomes the most coveted prize in the realm. In my past life, my older sister, Clara, looked down on the brutal, cold-blooded dragon shifters. Her heart was set on the elegant Elven Prince. She fully believed she would rule the Nightwood at his side. She got her wish. And I was readily married off to the Dragon Prince, Kail, in her stead. No one expected that within a year, I would give birth to a pure-blood dragon—the first sole heir the Dragon Clan had seen in centuries. Overjoyed, Kail crowned me his only Queen the day he ascended the throne. Under his rule, the dragons conquered the continent. My position was secured, and I enjoyed endless wealth and absolute power. Meanwhile, Clara discovered the grim reality of the elven court. The prince was a notorious womanizer. Clara was merely an insignificant consort, drowning in tears while she watched the entire realm bow at my feet. Jealousy ate her alive. During a family gala, she lured me to the edge of a cliff and pushed me into the abyss. But when I opened my eyes again... the dragon bridal envoy was already at our gates. And Clara, without a single moment of hesitation, accepted the proposal. I knew instantly—she had been reborn, too. What she doesn't know, however, is that becoming the Dragon Prince’s bride is the easy part. Winning his heart? Surviving long enough to bear his child? That is next to impossible.

Before I turned eighteen, I was the adored principessa of the Moretti family. That all changed on my eighteenth birthday, when my father brought home an orphan girl named Carina. "She needs a home," my father said. "You will look after her, like a sister." From that moment on, nothing was the same. My brother, who once doted on me, became cold and distant. And my fiancé... his love for me seemed to halve overnight. The family praised Carina for being gentle and obedient, calling her a far better daughter than me, their own flesh and blood. After being cast aside for Carina one too many times, I finally broke and grabbed my father's sleeve. "Does blood mean nothing at all?" My father's fury ignited. He sheltered a tear-stricken Carina behind him, and in front of every member of the family, he struck me across the face. "You selfish waste. I wish I'd never had you." "You bring shame to this family," my brother Marco's voice was as cold as a blade. "Get out." And my fiancé, Vincent, looked at me with disappointment,"If only it had been Carina I was engaged to from the start." They thought I would grovel at their feet, like I always did. But I said nothing, just walked to the family safe, removed the official documents, and drew a single line through my name. I took the engagement ring from my finger and placed it on the table. I gave Carina everything they felt I didn't deserve. After all, I only had a few days left to live. But they had no idea then that amid the ruins of the Moretti family, they would one day kneel in the rain and plead for my return.

My sister and I transmigrated into a savage beastman world where females were terrifyingly scarce. For the sake of reproduction, the Grand Druid allowed us to take our pick of mates first. Whoever gave birth to a child first, her husband would be crowned the Beast King. My sister, Chloe, was power-hungry. She immediately claimed Lucius, the noble and devastatingly handsome Merfolk Prince. I chose Bjorn, a werewolf guard who seemed honest and loyal. Chloe mated with Lucius, but she gave birth to two deformed half-merfolk pups, making her the laughingstock of the horde. Lucius was sadistic by nature and beat her constantly, while Bjorn treated me with the utmost care. After I gave birth to our first child, he successfully ascended to the Beast King's throne and crowned me as his supreme Queen, revered by all beasts. Chloe went mad with jealousy. At my Queen's coronation, she drove a poisoned dagger straight through my heart. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day we chose our mates. Chloe rushed forward and latched onto Bjorn's arm. "Elena, this time, the Queen's throne is mine." I instantly realized that she had been reborn, too. I looked toward the small, reddish-brown wyvern huddled in the corner. "I choose him."