Why Did Juliette Quinn Leave The Series?

Having an Awakenist as my wife meant enduring her monkish attitude toward sex. We could only be intimate on the sixteenth of every month. Every detail—my position, rhythm, even my expression—had to follow her rigid rules. If I showed too much pleasure, she would immediately rise and leave. We had been married for five years. Was I ever tired of this? Yes. Still, I always gave in. I accepted these limitations because I loved her. "The Saintess loves me too," I told myself. That faith shattered the day I was sent to extinguish a hotel fire. Amid the flames, I found my wife pressed close to a man in disheveled clothes. Between their arms was a young boy.

I'm the only sister of Ronan Mooncrest, Alpha of Mooncrest Pack. For as long as I can remember, Cassian, our Delta, Orion, our Gamma, and Nikolai, our Beta, swore they'd die before letting anyone hurt me. When I wanted the moon, they built me a tower. When the river was freezing and I refused to go home, they carried me across on their backs. I was their princess—the wolf they spoiled rotten and loved down to the bone. And of course, I loved them too. I was sure one of them had to be my mate. Then Dana came to Mooncrest. An outsider she-wolf. Bold. Gorgeous. Untouchable. No joke cracked her. No stare made her blush. On her first day, she challenged our pack warriors one by one. After that, Cassian started saying I was spoiled. The first time he left me shaking in a storm just to walk Dana home, Orion and Nikolai snapped at him. "Cassian, you're choosing her. Don't cry when you regret it." But soon, Orion got pulled in too. At my birthday party, I looked at the only one still beside me—Nikolai—and my eyes burned. "Nikolai... is this my fault?" He kissed my hair. "Don't go there. They're idiots. They don't know what they're losing." Then I saw him put the moonstone crown he'd promised me on Dana's head. Just to make her smile. Eyes red, chest wrecked, I knocked on Ronan's door. "Mooncrest is sending someone to Frostfang in three days. Let it be me."

Erica was Alpha Justin's mate until he threw her away like trash. The man she loved the most branded her as a criminal, stripped her of her dignity, and exiled her to the Forbidden Place. But she survived all the pain. Her fate was strange. It watched her fall, only to place her in the path of the most dangerous man on the mountain. Adam Scott, the second Lycan Prince, was the man everyone spent their lives trying to avoid. But for Erica, the one man she was supposed to fear is the only one standing between her and the grave. Justin threw her to the wolves, never realizing she was their Queen. Adam pulled her close, and let everyone find out what happened when an exiled Omega finally found her power. “Erica, I am sorry. Come back to me,” Justin begged her to return. "Tell me, darling. When I burn his pack house to the ground, do you want to watch, or do you want to be the one to light the match?” Adam asked her with a smirk, his voice a low growl.

My CEO wife, Vivian Lynch, suffers from chronic insomnia and can only fall asleep with the pillow mists I make. At our seventh wedding anniversary dinner, her male best friend, Earl Cain, pours a basin of hot water onto the old cypress tree in the backyard. I rush to save the tree in tears. Earl gets on his knees and apologizes, "I'm sorry, Allen. I did not know that you use this tree's leaves to make the pillow mists." Vivian comforts him gently and orders her men to tie me to the trunk of the tree. She says with a scoff, "If this tree is so precious, then you can spend your life guarding it!" After I hurt my hands from this ordeal, the first thing I do is to demand a divorce. On one night a month later, Vivian, who is unable to sleep, goes to the backyard and sees the withered old cypress tree there.

"Yuliana, are you really moving abroad? You're not even going to talk it over with Charlie?" Madelyn Gardner asks. Yuliana Beckett lets out a self-mocking laugh. "We're already divorced." "You got a divorce?" Madelyn gasps, staring at Yuliana in disbelief. "Charlie actually agreed to that? After everything you've done for him these past three years, even a heart of stone would've softened by now." Madelyn speaks up for Yuliana, indignant on her behalf. But it's only after Yuliana boards her flight and leaves the country that Charlie Zimmer finally realizes what he's lost. He chases her across the ocean like a man possessed. In the face of his remorse, Yuliana has only one thing to say. "I don't love you anymore."

Julian Hayes spent eight years climbing from first officer to captain of the most coveted international routes. I stood beside him for every mile of that climb. For him, I walked away from the Valenti family, the most feared Mafia name on the East Coast. I buried Elena Valenti, and became Lina Vale, the girl who smiled in the cabin while he ruled the cockpit. The day I left, my father stood on the marble steps of our estate and said, "Elena, if you walk out that gate for him, don’t come crawling back." Julian never knew. To him, I was a woman with no real family, no real power, and no life worth asking about. I was the one who memorized his flight schedule, packed his stomach pills, and kept dinner warm until midnight. Once, I asked him, "Can you take me into the sky the way you see it? Just once." He didn’t even put down his fork. "The cockpit is a workplace, Lina. Not a theme park." I said okay and never asked again. Then one sleepless dawn, I found the encrypted album on his phone. More than forty cockpit photos: cloud seas, blood-red sunsets, double rainbows after storms, the Milky Way over the Atlantic. Every one had been sent to the same contact. A teddy bear emoji. The newest photo showed half a sun hanging off the wingtip. His caption read, [Next time you’re off, I’ll put you in the observer seat. Sit on the right. That’s where the whole sky opens up.] She replied, [I’ll hold you to that.] I put the phone back. I didn’t change the password, didn’t delete the album, didn’t wake him up to beg for an explanation. At dawn, I brewed his coffee like always, sat alone at the kitchen island, and drank mine in silence. Then I sent my resignation letter and called a number I hadn’t touched in eight years. I watched the first flight of the morning rise beyond the Manhattan skyline and said, "Papa, I’m coming home." When the line connected, my father’s voice was colder than a gun barrel. "Have you thought it through?"