MTL - Dressed In White Moonlight Her Ex-wife - Chapter 1

“You hate me,” Lily mouthed through trembling lips.Zayn leaned closer, his voice low and bitter. “No. Hate is too cheap. I want you to feel what I did. Every scream. Every loss.”She didn’t flinch. She was tired of pleading. She just looked at him with eyes full of quiet pain.So why did it feel like his heart was shattering?Lily Brightpaw was born the daughter of an Alpha, but she never lived like one. Mute from childhood and unable to shift, she was treated as a curse by her family. Blamed for her mother’s death and beaten into silence, Lily grew up unloved and unwanted. She believed the Moon Goddess would send her a mate who would rescue her but she was wrong.The night her pack fell, Lily was dragged from a shack and thrown at the feet of her new Alpha, Zayn Knightmoon. He was the man her family enslaved. Now he is the alpha who rules over her and he wants revenge.Zayn lost everything. His father. His mate. His pack. All at the hands of Lily’s family. When he realized Lily is his second chance mate, he rejected her without hesitation and swore to make her suffer. But the more he punished her, the more he saw the truth: Lily was nothing like the monsters who raised her. She’s a victim too and broken… like him.Zayn found himself torn between vengeance and a bond he never asked for. Will Lily’s suffering be enough to quiet the ghosts of his past or will revenge destroy them both?

I, Mukouda Tsuyoshi, was caught up in a summoning circle into a different world where sword and magical skills are the norm.

However, when the summoners cast ‘Status Appraisal’ on us, the three other people who were summoned with me had [Heroes from Another World] in the occupation box, whereas I was the [Random Guy Caught Up in the Summoning Spell].

As for our ‘Skill Set’, the three Heroes had outrageous sounding skills rolling after their names like [Holy Sword Technique], [Holy Spear Technique] and [Sacred Magic].

In fact, I too have a skill you know? My one skill is called… [Net Super]…

Because it’s clearly not a combat skill, I am automatically treated like garbage.

Furthermore, the King of the country who had summoned us looked really shady.

As a veteran lightnovel reader, I can read the atmosphere well enough to come to the conclusion that ‘This is a bad world to be summoned into’.

Thus, it is decided. No matter what, I must get out of this castle as soon as possible and escape from this rotten country!

After failing to ascend to the heights of Divinity despite all her preparations, an ancient cultivator finds herself not embracing the emptiness of the void - but the interior warmth of a womb.Her memories intact despite her spirit being a merest fraction of her height - and her trusted Astralism unchanged - she carefully starts over from an infant.How to navigate her family: [really easy with only two parents and an estate full of servants!]How to portray herself: [everyone likes 'sweet' kids and trusts (underestimates) 'weak' girls!]How 'quickly' to reveal the power she gathers: [this region is a 'backwater', let's just take it slow~]How her marriage was arranged before birth: [my parents adore me so at an appropriate time I'll just have it cance- oh?]Dealing with an 'amusing' deceit: ['he' looks worried still, but 'he' doesn't have to worry from me!]Confronting the 'boy' in private: [whatever their iffy plan is, I just obtained a husband-wife~]Even in a new life, | Elua er Goltbred | can't and doesn't *want* to change who she really is. A scheming cultivator. A possessive lover. Neither of those things had been a real hindrance to the Peak of Demi-God.Balancing the two in this life - without driving away the young 'boy' she decided would be hers - centers as much around helping | Qatrand er Yecine | find herself... as it is hoping to ease the fiance into how messed up the 'younger' girl honestly is.It's a good thing that the reborn cultivator can improvise with her ridiculous control of an Illusion Astralism - because plans fail and unexpected things happen when you're not *really* a genius.Like her Physique in this life allowing the lightest 'grip' to crack stone...| Qat | (the nickname picked almost instantly!) despite being a little stunted by her family environment early on, finds her future wife to be 'cute' on their first meeting.... she really shouldn't have let on.It made her | El | kind of vain.Oh, and muscles.| Elua | : I just like looking at them, okay!? Is it so weird? People can have hobbies...

“Villains aren’t born, they’re made...blah...blah...”Cute quote. Stick it on your Tumblr header next to your anime pfp.You boys love your villain stories, don’t you?You want carnage. Chaos. Control. You want a dark throne, a cold smirk, and a woman kneeling at your feet begging for mercy.But you?You don’t want to lift a damn finger.You’ll cheer for the villain as he kills a god, but cry when he gets betrayed.You call it “plot armor” when the hero survives—but call it “art” when the villain does the impossible.You’re not fans of villains.You’re fetishists.You want the violence, but not the silence after it.You want domination, but not the burden of being hated.You want power, but only if the story forgives you for it.You don’t read these stories to understand evil.You read them because you think you're too good to win the normal way.“Villains don’t play fair.”Exactly. That’s why you love them.Because you wouldn’t last a day in a world where strength mattered and excuses didn’t.You don’t want a villain’s life.You want his results.You want to watch him burn the world for a woman.But you’d cry if a girl left you on read.So tell me—What exactly are you rooting for?At least unlike you, I support heroes—the ones with boobs.You know the type.Tits squeezed into latex, thighs tight in spandex, preaching virtue with cum-drunk eyes the moment they fall into my arms but always end up screaming my name instead.She flies above cities, saving lives like it’s her job.But at night? She crashes into my arms, trembling, moaning, clawing at my back like I’m the only real thing she’s ever touched.Her cape drops before her guard does.But I don't need to tear it off.She hands it over herself—bit by bit, kiss by kiss, lie by beautiful lie.You ever felt a heroine's breath hitch in your ear as she begs you to stop pretending you're the bad guy?Ever watched the symbol of hope ride you like you're the last man left after the world ended?That's not conquest.That’s devotion, baby.Unfiltered. Undeniable.And the irony?They fall the hardest.Because no villain ever tried to understand them. No hero ever dared to see past the shine and into the ache beneath.But I do.I whisper into the cracks of their perfection.I plant kisses where they hide their pain.I fuck them where they forget to wear their strength.And when they break—when their moans turn to prayers, when their strength melts into submission—That’s when I rise.I’m not just some brooding misfit out for revenge, or a misunderstood loner sitting around hoping for a shot at redemption.I’m not a villain.I’m the SUPERVILLAIN—the kind your heroines moan for when the cameras are off and the capes are crumpled on my floor.