REBORN AS A NECROMANCER : BUILDING THE ULTIMATE UNDEAD ARMY - Chapter 32: Babysitting an undead

As a human, I should be miles away from any large shifter event. Especially the annual Mate Hunt.A hunt for mates. Doesn't that sound barbaric? Yeah, it's as bad as it sounds.Several packs in the area gather as their newly minted adult wolves shift. Females are let into the woods first and are given an hour's head start, just before sundown. Then it's time for the males, ostensibly thrown out to hunt down the scent of their fated (or chosen) mates.It isn't an event for the faint of heart, and it's definitely no place for someone who can't shift. So why the fuck am I here, running my little human heart out, chased by what sounds like an entire pack of wolves? Great question. I don't know, either.But I'm here.Surrounded by howls fueled by the thrill of the hunt.Feet bleeding. Lungs freezing.I am so fucked.----R18. Dark themes, including but not limited to: Murder, attempted murder, a stack of dead bodies, betrayal, mild sociopathy, an ML who appears to bathe in red flags despite his favorite color being green, an unwarranted hatred of blueberry muffins, and pillow thievery.

The Hero’s party was attacked by a large group of powerful devils. The party will no doubt be annihilated if this were to go on.

Dreaming back to the Tang Dynasty, being an ordinary person, greedy for money, lustful, debauched and free.

- Description from novelbuddy

I once believed I was the heroine of a modern fairytale, blessed with beauty, wealth, intelligence, and a powerful legacy. Men adored me, women envied me, and I was engaged to the most desirable man, Cole Fay. My life seemed perfect, a dream where I held the starring role. But on my eighteenth birthday, that illusion crumbled. The truth hit me hard: I wasn’t the protagonist, nor even the villain or a side character. I was just cannon fodder, a disposable part of someone else’s story. But when fate recognized the cruel joke of my life, I was granted a second chance. This time, I’ll write my own story, living for myself. And this time . . . I will never love you again.