Rejected By The Prince, Hunted By The Lycan

I died on a modern battlefield, only to wake up in the body of a "wolfless" noble girl named Kimberley Oliver.

Before I could even process my transmigration, a heavy weight crushed my ribs. My greedy aunt had drugged my tea and paid a filthy street thug to ruin my innocence in the dead of night.

She wanted to stage a scandalous scene so my betrothed, the Crown Prince, could legally tear up our royal marriage pact. I used my operative instincts to shatter my attackers' bones and turn the trap against them. But when the Prince arrived, he didn't care about the truth. Looking at my frail, powerless body, he refused to believe a cripple could defend herself.

"I will personally petition the King tomorrow morning to dissolve our royal betrothal. Clear out this filth."

He looked at me with pure disgust and mercilessly annulled our engagement on the spot. In this werewolf kingdom, being born without an inner beast made you lower than dirt. My predecessor had lived her entire life terrified, bullied, and was ultimately murdered in the dark by her own family while everyone watched.

But I am not that fragile, weeping orphan anymore.

I escaped the estate, broke into a quarantined tavern, and robbed the kingdom's most terrifying, paralyzed Lycan warlord blind—taking his gold, his royal cloak, and a ratty handkerchief that made him scream in agony. Every single debt they owe her, I am collecting in blood.