Plot Twists Awakening Short Stories & Novels

My family was so poor we owned exactly one decent coat between us. The day it was my older brother's turn to wear it out to dig wild greens, a princess out hunting spotted him and took him straight into the palace as her consort. I went to the wedding feast when my brother married the princess. The most beautiful woman in the capital, the Chancellor's daughter, looked at me once. The very next day, sixty-six carriers of betrothal gifts piled up outside our thatched hut. She'd marry no one but me. When my old teacher heard the news, he showed up at our door. He'd been a widower for years, raising his son alone, and now he offered to adopt me as his son and give me a proper wedding to be proud of. In my last life, I'd wept with gratitude and said yes. I never imagined that on my wedding day, my teacher and the Chancellor's daughter would be fished out of the lily pond stripped bare and locked in each other's arms. She fainted from the shock. He screamed that he'd been framed and tried to throw himself against a rockery to end it all. Her reputation was ruined beyond saving, so she had no choice but to marry him instead. He climbed straight into the chancellery on the back of it, while I picked up a hoe and went back to my village to keep digging up wild greens. A year later, word came from the princess's estate that my brother had drowned. I rode through the night on a donkey to get there, and found wedding decorations hanging from every doorway of the estate. My teacher's son, it turned out, had been comforting the grieving princess with cup after cup of wine. One drunken night, she'd mistaken him for my brother and kept him till morning. He became the new consort. Ten years later, I saw them again. Father and son were dressed in silk and dripping with power, while life had ground me down to nothing. The two of them tossed a handful of copper coins at me out of pity, then swept off surrounded by servants. I froze to death in the street that winter, clutching my brother's photograph. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my teacher came to ask to adopt me as his son.

I am Aurora, Princess of the Crimson Moon, the North's most powerful pack. But I gave my heart to a worthless rogue named Blake. In my past life, I defied tradition to make him my personal guard. We were inseparable. I fought my own pack to make him my mate. But on the night of our mating ceremony, under the Blood Moon... He plunged a silver dagger straight into my heart. I was three months pregnant with his child. As I bled out, he whispered in my ear, his voice dripping with venom, "If it weren't for you, I'd already be with Clara. You deserve this!" That's when I understood. He never loved me. He only craved power. He had always wanted my sister, Clara—the pack's chosen heir. Then, I opened my eyes. I was back. Back at the guard selection ceremony. He rejected me in front of everyone. He declared his love for Clara and refused to be my guard. The entire pack stared at me with pity. This time, I just smiled. And I chose my silent childhood friend, Ronan. Blake thinks siding with Clara will lead to ultimate power. He's a fool. The pack's true Alpha isn't chosen by birthright. He is chosen by me.

A lie. That’s all it took. They locked me in the clan’s Sunken Church. For five years, the sun-torture burned away every last scrap of my pureblood pride. But when my sentence ended, I walked out and straight back into the same nightmare. My mate looks at me like I’m filth. Disgusting trash. My once-best friend is curled in his arms. She’s wearing my dead mother’s robes. She has stolen my life. Even my own son glares at me with pure hate. He says a traitor like me should have died in that cage. They all call me a monster. The one who murdered her own parents. A disgrace to the pureblood name. But I remember the truth. This time, I won’t go silently into silver chains. I won’t let them break me. I will not beg. When Owen flaunted my “best friend” in front of me again, trying to provoke me, to see that old spark of jealousy… my heart was stone. I found another man. The Prince who always warned me to leave Owen, the one who watched me from the shadows. “I see everything clearly now,” I told him. “Is your offer still good? I’m done with this trash.”

While strolling around the mall, I bend down to tie my shoelaces. When I lift my head again, my boyfriend, Lucas Carter, and my best friend, Kimberly Wendell, are already over 30 feet away. Just as I am about to catch up with them, I notice that the spot that should've been mine is slowly vanishing as the two walk closer and closer. Eventually, they are shoulder to shoulder as they talk about topics that I can't join in on. It's as though a third person was never there. During our university years, Lucas and Kimberly were known as the the school’s most promising “twin stars”. This continued even after we graduated, with them becoming the youngest chief physicians at the hospital. Meanwhile, no matter how hard I work, I can only trail behind them as an ordinary nurse. Lucas is always patting my head, saying, "You're cute, even when you're a little slow sometimes." Then he turns around and works seamlessly with Kimberly to perform one complex surgery after another. As I stare at their backs, I suddenly feel utterly exhausted. I no longer want to continue down this road, forever chasing after Lucas.

"I crossed a line. I fell for Ilaria." On our wedding day, the car had barely pulled away when Matteo Rossi turned to look at me. He pointed at the seat beneath me and said coldly, "Last night, she sat right there, wrapped her legs around my waist and kissed me. I couldn't hold back. We had sex in the car. "I guess I'm no different from any other man. I finally understand Luca. Ilaria really does have more fire in her than you." Luca was my ex-husband and Matteo's half-brother. Ilaria had been my only friend since childhood. Three years ago, I walked in on the two of them in my bedroom. The shock caused a late-term miscarriage. When I fell into the dark, Matteo was my light. And now he had betrayed me the same way.

While I was with a client looking at watches at a luxury boutique, I spotted a Chanel bag sitting on the authentication counter. "You've got a great eye, sir. This bag retails for eleven thousand dollars, and the young lady who brought it in wants to let it go for under three thousand." As the sales associate opened the inner pocket, a hand-drawn dried-flower card slipped out. "May my girl never have another worry." I wasn't seeing things. It was the seventh-anniversary gift I'd given Veronica Hale, with a note in my own handwriting. The sales associate started chatting idly. "A young woman dropped it off the day before yesterday. It's already been authenticated. She said she needed cash fast to buy her younger boyfriend a car." Younger boyfriend? A car? The color drained from my face. I opened the video account of Dylan Kerr, the college intern at her company. In the video, he was holding a slender hand in the passenger seat, their fingers laced together. On the woman's wrist was a clover bracelet. The one I'd fastened there myself three years ago. Fighting back nausea, I swiped my card and bought the bag. "No need to pack the card. Just throw it out."

In my previous life, I was adopted by an ordinary werewolf family, while my sister, Evelyn, was taken in by the Alpha family. But less than three years after joining the Alpha household, Evelyn broke their rules, was banished from the pack, and died alone in the wilderness. Meanwhile, my adoptive brother Evan and I built a successful business through our own hard work. With the blessing of our pack, we completed our mate-bonding ceremony and had three litters of pups. It was a happy and fulfilling life. When fate gave us a second chance, Evelyn made the exact opposite choice. She ran over, threw herself into Evan's arms, and called his name sweetly. Looking at me with smug satisfaction, she said, "Natalie, you can go to the Alpha family this time. I've had enough of all their rules. I don't even want to set foot in their territory." I turned to look at the man who had been my mate in my previous life. I was hoping he would say something. Instead, he lowered his head and smelled the back of Evelyn's neck. He looked at me coldly. "Don't come any closer. I'll kill you." In the end, under Evelyn's triumphant gaze, I walked toward the Alpha family's car.

My girlfriend used to answer every call I made. Then her first love came back to town. Since then, she’d begun ignoring my calls. The first time, she rolled out a red carpet at the airport to welcome that man home. With cameras flashing around her, she glanced at my name on her phone and let it ring. The second time, she was throwing him a birthday party while I sat alone at the restaurant where we'd agreed to meet. I waited until the staff locked up for the night. And then came the hundredth call. Acute appendicitis had left me in so much pain I could barely stay conscious, but I managed to dial her number one last time. All I heard was the same automated message: "The number you dailed is busy now..." I later learned she'd been celebrating a major contract win with him at a restaurant overlooking the city. He even posted a picture of them together. "Thanks for making me your top priority," his caption read. Someone commented, "You two are practically a couple already. When are you making it official?" He replied with a blushing emoji. By the time she reached the hospital, my surgery was over. She smelled of another man's tobacco smoke. "Sorry. I couldn't get away from the business dinner," she told me. "You know he just moved back. He needs my help getting established. I promise it won't happen again." The anesthesia hadn't fully worn off, but somehow I managed a polite smile. "Okay," I said. Don't worry. There won't be a next time. Not for us.

After I announced that my boyfriend, James Lane, and I were getting married, his childhood sweetheart came after me again. She dumped an entire bucket of chicken blood over my head, turning my pristine white wedding dress a hideous dark red. Lily Zane stood there watching me without the slightest hint of fear. She knew she could get away with it. Instead of backing down, I looked at James, who had been silent the entire time. "Are you calling the police, or am I?" This was already the ninth time this year. She'd rammed my car, slapped me, and harassed me online. Any time I dared post anything about James, there was always some new form of torment waiting for me. James had begged me to let it go, so I'd swallowed it again and again. Not this time. I dialed 911 without hesitation. James, who hadn't lifted a finger until then, suddenly snatched the phone from my hand and smashed it against the floor. Pieces went flying, and his face was dark with anger. "Are you seriously making this a big deal? It's just a bucket of chicken blood!" Calmly, I wiped the blood from my face and nodded. "Yes, I am, James. And the wedding's off."

My husband brought home a set of triplets and insisted they were mine. I rushed to get a DNA test done overnight, and the results proved that none of the three children were related to either of us. But my husband lost it. He slapped me, called me disgusting, and forced me to sign the divorce papers, leaving me with nothing. Furious and shaken, I went to my best friend to vent. But the second she saw those three children, she grabbed the fruit knife from the table and slashed my face. “If you dare say they aren’t yours again, next time, I won’t stop there.” My chest felt so tight I could barely breathe. That night, I bought a ticket and fled back to my parents’ house. I cried as I told them everything. But after hearing me out, they grabbed a garden hoe and beat me to death. Even as everything went dark, I still couldn’t understand why everyone was forcing me to accept three children I had never given birth to. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my husband first brought them home.

On my wedding day, I slept for six hours inside my own dressing room. By the time I reached the DeLuca family chapel in the Hudson Valley, Matteo had already completed the entire ceremony with his childhood friend, Sofia Rinaldi, the daughter of one of the DeLucas’ oldest allied families. She wore the gown I had spent six months designing and the pearl tiara passed down through generations of DeLuca women. Allies from New York, Chicago, and Sicily had witnessed everything. No one had saved a place for the real bride. Matteo looked at my pale face and explained calmly. “Sofia put the sedative in your tea. She only wanted one wedding. The dose was small, so there is no reason to make this into something bigger.” Everyone waited for me to cause a scene. I only let out a quiet sigh and looked at Matteo with disappointment. My family had given me one final chance to marry for love. Now that the wedding had failed, I had to return to Sicily, obey their decision, and inherit the family.

My 30th birthday. My childhood friend, Jax, told me to meet him at Chicago City Hall. “Wear the custom wedding dress. Bring your ID.” He promised me a surprise I’d never forget. But when I got there, he just casually lifted his cigar to his rich friends. “See? She actually wore the wedding dress. Pay up. The limited-edition Aston Martin is mine.” Then, he turned to me. “Clara. It was a joke. You didn’t take it seriously, did you?” I said nothing. He was so sure of himself. No matter what he did, I was his little shadow. The girl who couldn't live without him. I’d always come crawling back, crying, begging him to marry me. His face, the one I used to love, twisted into a sneer. “If you’re that desperate to get married, go grab some homeless guy off the street. See if anyone wants you. Don’t worry. I’ll party a few more years. Then maybe I’ll be generous and keep the fiancée spot open for you.” The crowd of men and women behind him erupted in laughter. They laughed at me. The parasite Jax couldn't shake. The idiot waiting for him to throw me a bone. But when I walked out on the arm of my new husband—a literal Mafia Don—and flashed a very real marriage certificate, Jax’s face went dead white.

Just as I was on the verge of miscarriage from a fall, my husband—New York's most powerful Don—was throwing a lavish birthday gala for his childhood sweetheart, Camilla. I called, begging for help, but he dismissed it as a cheap stunt and coldly hung up. As his wife, I bore the honor of being the Donna—yet no one knew I couldn't even scrape together a thousand dollars. All because, to "train" me into a proper Donna, he had handed total control of my life and finances straight to Camilla. Desperate, I begged anyone who would listen. But by the time I finally scraped the money together, my baby's heartbeat stopped forever. After waking up in that hospital bed, I dragged myself back to his penthouse to pack my bags. That was when I stumbled upon the auction receipt for Camilla's birthday gift. A ten-million-dollar mansion in Beverly Hills, plus endless custom jewelry. Just then, his deep, raspy voice drifted from the study next door. He was on a call with his underbosses. "Boss, was Scarlett really at the hospital begging you for a grand?" Cassius scoffed. "Scarlett is my Donna. She has my men guarding her 24/7. How could anything possibly happen to her? She's just pulling a cheap stunt for attention. Camilla is right. I've spoiled Scarlett too much lately. If Camilla isn't strict with her, how is an orphan going to earn the Famiglia's respect? She'll understand my good intentions later." Tears slipped down my face. Fuck his rules. Fuck his Donna. The second the doctor called my baby's time of death, I decided I was out of his life—never to return.

Caine Black and I were in love for seven years. From our first meeting at the Imperial Academy to being officially recognized by both packs as promised mates, I thought we would be together forever. That certainty lasted until the day before our marking ceremony, when I canceled it. The priest stared at me in shock. "Eileen, the marking ceremony is in twelve hours. Are you sure you don't want to wait for Caine to come back?" I gently unclasped the pendant from my neck, the one that symbolized the Luna's status, and shook my head. "No. "He's under the northern lights on the Ice Plains right now, completing a marking ceremony with his first love."

My daughter, Bessie Garcia, had very little self-discipline. The only reason she studied at all was that I constantly pushed her. Three months before the SATs, I could not resist sending a question to myself ten years into the future. “Did Bessie get into an Ivy League school? What kind of job does she have now? Please tell me the last three years of hard work were worth it! How far have Meera and I gotten on our trip around the world? Did we have a second child?” A hopeful smile spread across my face. Then, I saw the man on the other side of the screen. His skin was sallow. He was so thin that he was almost unrecognizable. “An Ivy League school? After graduation, she publicly accused you of controlling and emotionally abusing her for more than ten years. The entire internet branded you a sick, controlling father. Meera divorced you and went on to have a child with her first love. As for you… years of staying up late, putting your life on hold, and constantly supervising Bessie’s studies left you with terminal pancreatic cancer. Your daughter and ex-wife have cut you out of their lives completely. You have only one month left to live.” I was stunned. Just then, Bessie’s voice sounded from her room as she talked to someone online. “My dad? He’s a pathetic control freak. His wife doesn’t love him, so he takes it out on me by trying to control my life. The more he forces me to study, the worse I’ll bomb the exams! Watching him lose his mind in rage is the only satisfaction I get. Once the SATs are over, I’m moving out and cutting him out of my life for good!” Tears splashed against the back of my hand. A moment later, I withdrew her from every SATs prep course and sent her a text. [You don’t have to attend those tutoring classes anymore. From now on, I won’t ask anything of you. It’s your life, so you should get to decide how to live it.]

On my wedding day, my boyfriend, Theodore Gunther, suddenly stops the wedding ceremony—all because Gwen Lithgow has updated her social media to say she's back. Theodore throws away the wedding ring he designed. He leaves me at the altar without another look back. I'm dumbfounded as I stand there in my wedding dress. My brother, Alvin Chilton, who's supporting me, lets go. "You've always been strong, Joycelyn. I know you can handle this alone. Gwen needs me more now." With that, he also leaves. He and Theodore have both left me for the same woman. They abandon me alone. That night, after dealing with the fallout of the failed wedding, Gwen sends me a photo. In it, Theodore and Alvin are standing by her bedside. She wears the necklace Theodore made himself and the wedding dress Alvin designed. Those were supposed to be mine. The image makes me lose hope in them. Tears stream down my face as I make a call. "Mom, Dad, I've changed my mind. I want to go home."

What's the first thing you'd do if you were reborn? Me? I'd start by divorcing my husband, Finn Gallagher. Yeah, Finn Gallagher, the same man who runs half the underworld from behind closed doors. The Don. The richest man alive. The man women dream about; his face plastered on magazines, named "Sexiest Man Alive" five years in a row. In my last life, I tried everything to make him look at me like I mattered. I married him. I gave birth to his son. I swallowed every ounce of pride, trying to be the perfect wife. However, it didn't work. To him, I was no different than a waitress he might casually tip—forgettable, replaceable, invisible. So this time, I'm not begging. I'm not pretending. I'm handing Madeline Brooks the key to my place in his life, and walking away. She's Finn's first love, and also the shadow that haunted every day of my last life. Now Madeline was sitting opposite to me, blinked at me like she didn't hear me right. "You tried so hard to push me out," she said slowly, eyes narrowed. "Now you want me to be with Finn?" "Yes. That's all I'm asking. Just talk to Finn. Tell him to sign the divorce papers." I looked at her confused face and kept going. "Everyone knows I'm the last person who'd ever let Finn go. So if I say I want a divorce, he won't believe me for a second. But you? You're the one who can make that happen... aren't you?" She laughed, because she was finally getting her chance. I laughed too, because I was finally free.

On the day of my marking ceremony, I accidentally slept through it for eight hours. By the time I made it to the altar, the ceremony was already over. My fiance, Liam Langdon, the youngest Alpha in Silver Moon Pack's history, stood hand in hand with his childhood sweetheart, Chloe Kingston. They were accepting the pack's blessings. The moment Chloe saw my pale face and disheveled state, she covered her mouth and giggled. "Sorry, Ella. I think I accidentally mixed a sleeping potion into the water I brought you at noon." Liam looked at her affectionately before glancing at me. "Chloe has dreamed of having the perfect marking ceremony ever since we were kids. It's only a ceremony. Let her have this one." He reached up and adjusted her veil. "And honestly, that dress looks better on her than it ever would have on you." My gaze landed on the white dress. I spent six months making it. I learned from the best tailor in the territory and stitched every single seam by hand. As if afraid I'd make a scene in front of everyone, Liam added casually, "Ella, if you can be reasonable about this, I'll officially mark you at the next full moon." The entire altar fell silent. Every werewolf expected me to lose control. Instead, I simply stood there and let out a sigh of relief. If he'd told me that sooner, I wouldn't have had to stay here any longer. It was finally time for me to return home and claim my throne.

I ignored my friends and family’s objections and insisted on pursuing my now-girlfriend, who was disfigured in a car crash when she tried to save her first love. Some laughed at me for being a back-up plan, but I didn’t care. I worked day and night, earning money for her plastic surgery, and stayed by her side as she walked out of depression. But on the eve of our wedding day, as I was doing her laundry, a marriage certificate dropped out of her pants pocket. The groom was her first love. I was about to make things clear with her when I overheard her conversation with her best friend. “I know Steve saved me, but if Yves doesn’t marry me, he’ll be forced into a marriage alliance. I don’t want to see him lose his freedom. “As for Steve, I’ll find someone to forge a certificate for me. Don’t blurt this out, okay…” I felt my blood then grow cold as I quietly changed the groom of our wedding three days later to her first love. By the time she found out about the surprise, I would have left for abroad, never to return.

Fiona Sullivan, my biological older sister, ships me abroad to Ashberia. Three years pass, and we end up running into each other at the airport. Conflict had broken out in the impoverished neighborhood of Ashberia where Fiona had abandoned me, and I was severely injured while protecting a few of the children. I've now returned to the country for treatment. Meanwhile, she's here to take Zach Sullivan, her adopted brother, on a trip around the world. Our eyes meet. When she sees my injuries, she remarks in her usual disappointed tone, "I warned you, didn't I? I told you how dangerous it was out there. No one besides me is ever going to protect you, so you should stop causing so much trouble. "I'll get a doctor for you, but first, you need to apologize to Zach for what you did back then!" Lying on the stretcher, I simply look away. "Don't bother. You and I stopped being siblings a long time ago." During my time abroad, I've found myself a new sister, one far more powerful and influential. The best doctors in the entire city of Seagrove are already waiting on standby to treat me.