June Anderson, a typical straight young man who pays taxes regularly, has a secret. He loves reading Boys Love, or BL for short.

One day, when he was ready to sleep, he somehow transmigrated into the R18 BL novel he loves, ‘You Are My Fated One.’

The problem is, he was not the male lead’s love interest, but the female mob boss, and a childhood friend of the protagonist’s villainess, Emelia Roosevelt.

Screw fate, destiny, or the ending of the novel! He prefers to choose his happiness and survival than follow the flow of the original novel, and it is worth dying for. After all, chasing after his bias was his dream come true.

Ray has one goal in life; to survive long enough to age out of the foster care system, and she has been using her unique Gifts to keep any unwanted attention off of her for years. Not only is Ray trying to avoid her foster mother, but has also done everything in her power to stay hidden from the supernatural world that she belongs to. What will Ray do when the local clan of Valkyries finally discovers that she has been hiding right under their noses?

Female Valkyries are so rare, they are only found within the ancient royal Valkyrie lines, and males out number them 500 to 1. What will the Oakland Clan do when they discover a very rare and very powerful female Valkyrie in their territory?

This is a supernatural slow burn reverse harem novel.

Suddenly, I could see bright white lights creeping quickly towards me, so quick that I could only see what it was right before the impact. My weak body was no match for the large transportation bus that would not let anything slow down its path. My body shot away from where I had previously knelt and it felt as if my soul had been left behind, but I knew very well that it hadn't. I wished it had left, at least then I would not have felt every bone in my body fracturing into tiny pieces. In that cold weather, I began to warm up from the blood that seeped out from unknown parts of my body like it had to get somewhere.

That situation seemed ironic in a way. I was the woman who needed saving, but still no handsome man, or person at all, had pulled me out of the agony that I was in. It was nothing like the novels I had read, or maybe it was because I wasn't pretty that no one saved me.

In that moment of sorrow, still I was angry. Not angry at myself, but upset that I could not read the final chapter of that novel. As I took in my last breath, I murmured my final words, "Now who is going to tell me what happens in the final floor?"