Why Did Some Twilight Actors Leave Hollywood?

Vera was the Alpha king's daughter. She was famous for rejecting the throne to make her own identity. But no one knew that she married her mate, Fred Clinton— An average Alpha, and dedicated 7 years of her life to help him. That's not all, she also put her wolf to sleep and introduced herself as a human so he wouldn't feel bad about having a stronger mate. She thought life was good. She thought she had the best husband and son. However, on the sports day event of her son, her heart bottomed out to see him and her husband doting on his PA, a nineteen year old girl pretending to be cute. When she confronted them, their words shattered her heart. "Mommy, there's no need for you to overreact okay! Aunt Tory here was doing what you were supposed to do— Taking care of us. Stop throwing a tantrum and let us enjoy the movie." Those were her son's words when she yelled at them. "Vera, I can't deny my feelings for Tory. She pulls me in like a magnet. Many Alphas have women beside their Lunas. Why are you so bitter about it? Accept her or the doors are behind you. It's your choice." "You want that Vixen? Fine, I'll leave you both to be with her. Enjoy your lives." Heartbroken, Verena left them. She revived her wolf and decided to pick up where she left 7 years ago— To make her own identity. But when she meets a certain Alpha billionaire on the way, her life is not the same.

Vampires only ever took one mate in their lifetime. And yet, my vampire husband refused to acknowledge me—his human wife, bound to him through an arranged marriage. On the night of our tenth wedding anniversary, Jason brought another woman into my bed. She was wearing my nightgown. She was carrying his child. And in my hand, I held a pregnancy test I'd just had confirmed. "Be reasonable, Elena. Jessica just conceived my child. She needs me." "Go sleep in the guest room. I'm sorry for the inconvenience." My husband shielded the other woman, his smile polished and gentlemanly, though his eyes held the same icy indifference they always did. When he saw me frozen in the doorway, Jason assumed I was going to do what I always did. Scream. Cry. Demand to know why he kept doing this to me. But he didn't know—this time was different. The ten-year contract had come due, and I was finally leaving him for good.

My sister Isolde and I used to be human. The twin vampire princes, Caelum and Dorian, turned us and married us. The entire vampire world celebrated. Two human sisters, personally turned by the Crown Princes? It was the highest honor a mortal could receive. We believed we were loved. We were fools. Five months into my pregnancy, I was attacked by a group of exiled vampires in the forest beyond our territory. I called Caelum nine times. He didn’t pick up. The exiles circled me, cutting into my arms and legs with blades that burned. Pain tore through my body. I called a tenth time. This time, Caelum’s cold voice came through: “Haven’t you had enough? Vivienne is being tracked by hunters. Stop bothering me.” Vivienne was the human girl that both princes truly loved. The one who had refused to be turned. With nothing to stop them now, the exiles closed in. Their leader drove a blade into my stomach. I watched the light leave my body from the inside out, and felt my unborn child die. When I was close to death, my sister Isolde found me and fought the exiles off. But there were too many. Isolde was badly wounded. She called her husband Dorian for help. All she got was: “Looking for Vivienne. Don’t bother me.” Isolde carried me and ran. A storm hit and we were caught in the open at dawn—deadly for wounded vampires. The border patrol found us just in time. We barely survived. When I woke up in the infirmary, my first thought was simple: Sever the bond.

I married the most powerful vampire in existence — Lucien Blackthorne. And I was just a human. Four years ago, my parents gave their lives to save his during an assassination attempt. So he married me. As compensation. Lucien paid for my education, gave me access to resources most humans could only dream of, and treated me with impeccable courtesy. But he never once mentioned turning me. Then one day, his childhood sweetheart — a female vampire, freshly divorced — came looking for him. It was the first time I ever saw Lucien smile. That was the moment I understood. Lucien had never seen me as his wife. There had always been someone else. So I handed him the divorce papers. He barely hesitated before signing his name. "Elena, why would you do this? You know you can't survive without me. You'll regret it." He tossed me a check across the desk, looking down at me, and told me to go home and think it over. But this time, I wasn't going back. I left him carrying his child, determined to find myself again — done begging for his love. And yet, after I vanished, he came chasing after me, sobbing, pleading with me not to go.

We were supposed to be in love for eternity. But my vampire fiancé, Caius, has stood me up at our blood-bonding ceremony thirty-three times. The first time, the girl he’d sired, Evangeline, lost control during a hunt. He raced to her side, leaving me alone in the church under the blood moon. The second time, he vanished mid-ceremony because Evangeline was being bullied by another clan. He left me to face the elders’ mockery alone. After that, his little fledgling always had some fresh disaster for him to avert. And he always had an excuse: “I sired her. She’s like a child to me.” Then I saw the fresh bite marks on their necks. They had shared blood—the ultimate intimacy between mates. My heart turned to ash. It was time to burn our betrothal to the ground. The day I finally disappeared, he went mad, tearing our world apart to find me.

I had been in a relationship with Harry Chalamet for ten years. He stood up for me and even ended up in the hospital after a fight. He financially supported me in my education by laboring on construction sites. Even my friends could tell that he was madly in love with me, and I believed it too. Just when we were about to get married, I noticed he often secretly stared blankly at a photo. But the person in that photo wasn’t me…