Awakening Short Stories & Novels

I've been in a secret relationship with Ian Bradford for five years. Ian is the captain of the Yorkson Bears hockey team and one of the league's biggest star players. I, on the other hand, am always his Left Wing who sets up goals for him from the shadows. On my 24th birthday, he gets married to Katie Terrell, the captain of the cheerleading squad. Even when faced with my silent accusatory stare, Ian seems completely unconcerned. He says, "Katie has cancer. She only has one month left to live. This is her only wish. I can't let her leave this world with regrets." Katie leans against his shoulder, taunting me blatantly with her eyes. The birthday party that is originally planned for me becomes their wedding celebration instead. My teammates and my brother, Cale Manning, take turns offering their congratulations. When it's my turn, I remain expressionless. Ignoring the warning look in Ian's eyes, I calmly raise my glass and say, "Congratulations on your marriage. May you stay together forever."

Three years after I gave birth, I asked my husband for a divorce. Dante Bennett could close a multimillion-dollar deal with one phone call. He could fire a senior executive with another. But he couldn't make me withdraw the petition. He tried anyway. He knelt beside my bed until morning. Drank until he vomited blood. Spent three months turning every conversation into a negotiation, every apology into another reason I should stay. Only when I took our daughter somewhere he couldn't find us did he agree to sign. Even then, he demanded thirty days. Everyone thought I was ungrateful. My handsome, devoted husband, the CEO of Bennett Holdings, had bought an island because I'd once said the sound of the ocean helped me sleep. He had flown halfway across the world for a cake I used to love. He had spent three days outside a remote specialist's retreat, demanding that someone help his wife. They saw the flowers, the private doctors, the way he always held my chair. They didn't see the hospital record that appeared on a pharmacy terminal when I went to collect our daughter's prescription. Twin pregnancy. One female infant. One male infant. I'd spent three years believing I had one child. My husband had spent them knowing I had two.

Three hours before our wedding, I found out Denise Benson had picked up the wrong suit for me. Instead of the custom white tuxedo with intricate gold embroidery, she had brought home a plain gray janitor's uniform. When I pointed out the mistake, she was busy adjusting my best friend Eric Jones's bow tie. She barely glanced in my direction. "I grabbed the wrong one. It's too late to do anything about it now, so just wear it." I had heard some version of that excuse countless times over the past eight years. When I had gastritis, she brought me the wrong medication, yet somehow remembered exactly what Eric needed for his cough. On our third anniversary trip, she claimed she had mixed up our IDs and ended up booking a romantic suite for herself and Eric. At our engagement party, she somehow mixed up our families and introduced Eric's parents as her future in-laws instead of mine. I had had enough of her so-called mix-ups. This time, I wanted to make absolutely sure nothing went wrong. I spent almost a whole year working on my wedding suit, carefully choosing every detail of the design. The gold embroidery was especially meaningful, with patterns that represented different moments in our relationship. I sent Denise countless photos of the finished suit, making sure she knew exactly what it looked like. Even when she went to pick it up, I stayed on the phone with her, going over the details one last time. And somehow, she still brought back the wrong thing. She had no trouble picking up Eric's suit, which was almost identical to mine except for the embroidery. Yet when it came to my outfit, she couldn't even get the color right. She brought me a janitor's uniform, for God's sake. Denise caught me looking at Eric's suit and immediately frowned. "Don't start. It's just a wedding ceremony. Who cares what you're wearing?" As usual, she expected me to let it go and pretend nothing had happened. But after eight years of putting up with her excuses, I was done. I reached into my pocket, pulled out the engagement ring Denise had given me, and tossed it to Eric. "You're right. It's just a ceremony. Guess it doesn't matter who you marry, either."

Kael had one rule he never broke. Every piece of pack business, big or small, personal or official, he handled in strict order of priority. Never missed a beat. I'm Ella, his promised mate. I'd teased him about it more times than I could count. One evening, I tossed out the same question I'd asked a hundred times before: "Our Moon Vow ceremony has to be at the top of your list by now, right?" Every time I asked, he'd change the subject. There was always something more important. I could never figure out what could possibly matter more than bonding with me. Until the night I accidentally drank wine laced with wolfsbane at a banquet. The pain was unbearable. Kael scooped me up and drove straight for the healing cottage. I was starting to feel safe. Then a message came in and he turned the car around. "Lysandra's wolf spirit lost control. She cut her own palm. I have to go." Lysandra was my close friend. She'd just awakened her wolf, and Kael had been personally training her to manage her power. I could feel my wolf spirit going dormant. I begged him to take me to the healer first. But he ran into Lysandra's quarters without looking back. That's when his phone, which had slipped off his lap and landed beside me, lit up. His priority list. Over two hundred entries about Lysandra. All matters concerning Lysandra: highest priority. Apply to the Elder Council for a new residence for her. Pay off Lysandra's debts. Commission a custom moonstone pendant for Lysandra. I scrolled to the very bottom. That's where I finally found my name. Tucked beneath everything else, in smaller text than the rest: Moon Vow ceremony. The thing I'd been waiting for my whole life was dead last on his list. With what little strength I had left, I lifted my finger and deleted that line from the screen. Like it had never been there. If the Moon Vow meant that little to him, then it didn't need to happen at all.

When Luca Moretti chose the jewelry for our wedding, he still bought two pieces and let my twin sister Bianca choose first. One was a ruby cuff from a Sicilian auction. The other was an off-the-rack black onyx bracelet, the kind sold in every mall jewelry store. For the first time, I reached before Bianca could. I pointed at the ruby cuff. "This time, can I choose first?" Luca set his palm on my head with the easy affection he used to make me behave. "Bianca has always been stubborn about quality. If it's not the best, she won't take it. You don't care about this stuff, Elena. The other piece isn't bad." I didn't answer right away. Something inside my chest went quiet. In my own family, Bianca always got the first slice, the clean seat, and the room with the view. My mother said she needed the best because she carried the Bellini name better. My father called it practical. Marriage worked that way too. The Bellinis and Morettis had promised one daughter to the Moretti heir long before either of us knew what love was. Everyone assumed that daughter would be Bianca. Instead, she made her position crystal clear: she'd rather keep her freedom and her spotless public image than become Mrs. Moretti. So Luca turned to the remaining Bellini daughter. I had known Luca for twenty years, and in his world, I always stood behind Bianca. I looked at the black onyx bracelet on the table and pushed it back. "Bianca can have both. I'm not choosing." I didn't want another leftover choice. Not anymore.

In conjunction with the Labor Day weekend, my fiancé, Jacob Fowler, and I, along with a few other friends, decide to go on a trip together. We start the trip with a mountain hike. Alas, on the very first day of our trip, I come down with acute gastroenteritis and have to take the cable car down the mountain. Before I leave the others, Jacob reminds me to take care of myself and adds, "Head down first, Daphne. I'll come to the hospital to keep you company once I've made sure that Charlene and the others will be fine without me." Riley White, my best friend, and Simon Hoffman, my childhood friend, both look at me with concern and tell me not to push myself too hard. But when I reach the cable car station, a staff member informs me that injured or ill passengers must be accompanied by a family member on the way down. I have no choice but to turn back and look for Jacob. However, when I return to the campsite, I find that the man who looked so worried before is now sporting an expression of pure relief. "I just sent Daphne off. You guys did great putting on an act with me," he says. Simon chuckles and shakes his head. "You don't need to thank us, Jacob. I know that you and Charlene have always had feelings for each other. You even created the wishing wall on this mountain just for her! "After all these years, it has even become a popular tourist destination. Now that Charlene finally got a chance to come back to the country, we must use this opportunity to make up for all your past regrets." Riley chimes in excitedly, "That's right! I know that Daphne has a weak stomach and can't take spicy food. That's why I secretly added some ghost peppers into our breakfast this morning. Now that her gastroenteritis has flared up, no one will get in the way of your trip down memory lane." My blood runs cold. I feel chilled to the bone as I stare at the wishing wall that is nearly half my height. "May God take pity on me and allow me to reunite with the one I love. I ask for nothing more in life." This is how I find out that everyone has been deliberately plotting to force me out of the trip—that the sole purpose of this trip is to let Jacob and Charlene, the star-crossed lovers, finally be together again.

My younger sister, Ivy, was engaged to Nathan, the heir to the Silver Moon Pack. After Nathan and I drank laurel wine laced with an aphrodisiac, we lost control and slept together. To preserve the alliance between our packs, Mother had me take Ivy's place. Nathan and I completed the mate bond, while Ivy was sent north to marry its elderly, gravely ill Alpha. On the day of her mating ceremony, however, Ivy's convoy was attacked by rogue wolves. She died at the border. Nathan hated me from that day forward. For more than twenty years, our bond brought me only neglect and humiliation. When I died after a long illness, he did not visit. He sent only one message. "Tessa, stay away from me in your next life." When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the moment the drugged wine was placed in my hand. Before I could react, Nathan snatched the glass away and smashed it against the floor. The moment I saw the way he looked at Ivy, I knew that he had been reborn too. Before the elders of both packs, he took Ivy's hand and announced, "Ivy and I will hold our mating ceremony this month." He led her away without looking at me. Once they were out of earshot, Mother drew me aside. "North Ridge has agreed to an alliance. You'll marry their Alpha." Memories of my final moments flashed through my mind. This time, I decided to give Nathan exactly what he wanted. "All right," I said. "I agree."

I slit my palm and fed Irene Arlington my blood to keep her alive when we were trapped in a blizzard. The tissue in my legs had died from hypothermia. I had been in a vegetative state for five years. When I woke up, I heard a conversation between her and the doctor. “Mrs. Bradshaw, your husband’s condition is stable right now. There’s a good chance he’ll wake up. Are you sure you want to go through with euthanasia?” She spoke calmly, like she had already made up her mind. “Money isn’t the issue. I’ve already poured five years into him. I just can’t do this anymore. “With the way he is now, he’d be better off dead.” Those words hit me like a ton of bricks. Irene used to cry and beg me to stay alive. Five years had worn her down, and the woman I once knew was no longer the same.

I have a case of acute pancreatitis. I head to the hospital, but the doctors there refuse to treat me. Why? Because my husband is a doctor in the emergency room, and he's instructed everyone not to treat me. In my past life, he would show up with a single phone call. But, after his true love dies in an accident, he pushes the blame on me. On my mother's birthday, he poisons my whole family and repeatedly stabs me with a scalpel. "Does it hurt? Jackie was in much more pain before her death. If not for you, she wouldn't have gone out in my place. You killed her, so I'm making you and your family die for her!" When I open my eyes, I'm back to the day when I get acute pancreatitis after drinking the bar dry for his sake. This time, he runs to Jackie Morse without hesitation. He thinks he's made the right choice, but he later comes to me and grovels at my feet, begging me to take him back.

Seven years after reuniting with my biological family, everyone in the Morgan family still hated me. My parents couldn't stand me. No matter how hard I tried, they just told me that I could never quite shake off my poor upbringing. In their eyes, I'd never be as graceful or well-mannered as the daughter they'd raised in my place. My older brother blamed me for sending her away for an entire year after I first showed up. So when she finally moved back into the family's mansion, he guarded her like a watchdog, constantly hovering around her as if I'd bully her the second he turned his back. Even my little brother, the boy I'd practically raised myself, said she was the sister he'd always dreamed of having. Apparently, a sister who wouldn't let him eat junk food or play video games all day was the worst person in the world. He even looked me straight in the eye and swore that no one in this world would ever love me. I figured he was right. Clearly, this whole world had something against me. So when a mysterious system appeared out of nowhere and asked if I'd be willing to travel to other worlds and complete missions, I agreed without a second thought.

Teresa Gardner, my girlfriend, is thrilled when I hand over the design drafts I spent so long working on to Quentin Solomon, her first love. She is so happy that she agrees to travel to Jarevon with me. Yet the moment we reach the airport, Quentin calls her. "I got into an accident. I really want to see you right now. Please don't leave with him, Teresa!" Teresa, who is usually so level-headed, panics and desperately pleads with me to let her go see Quentin. In the end, even as our friends keep sending us well wishes for our trip to Jarevon in the group chat, I can only smile as I release Teresa's hand and let her go to Quentin. Teresa's eyes well up with tears the moment she sees how thoughtful and understanding I am, as always. "I swear this will be the last time. I'll come back and marry you once I've checked on Quentin's condition, Aaron." I remind myself it's the 96th time I've done this for Teresa. I muse that perhaps I just have to hold on a little longer. If fulfilling these last three requests doesn't fix things between us, I'll walk away completely—Teresa and I will go our separate ways and never cross paths again.

Yvonne Sunderland married Zach Frank, who had been with her for ten years. In the second year of their marriage, Zach passed away due to a plane accident. But when Yvonne turned forty-three, she met her supposedly dead husband! Before she could even ask any questions, disaster struck. An avalanche suddenly struck. During the critical moment, Zach was buried under the snow in order to protect her and that woman. His final words were, “I’ve repaid you all of your favors with my life. If I can redo my life, I don’t want to marry you and would rather meet her first…” When she opened her eyes again, Yvonne found herself back to the first year she married Zach.

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."

After an accident and miscarriage, Hansel Saddler and I are so devastated that we're both diagnosed with depression. For the next five years, I try my best to act like I'm normal as I care for him and try to cheer him up. This lasts until I overhear him speaking to the psychologist at the clinic's door. "Work's been getting busy lately, and pretending to be depressed makes it inconvenient to deal with that. Can you change my diagnosis to manic disorder?" The psychologist giggles. "You have been quite manic lately, darling. You've been making me feel really sore down there." "I can make you feel even more sore now." Then, I hear moans and groans. It turns out everything I've done over the past five years is nothing but a joke. I pull up my conversation with Colin Foster. "I agree to undergo secluded treatment deep in the mountains abroad."

I'm born with the ability to see how much time remains in every relationship between two people. Throughout my 13 years of marriage to my wife, Francine Spence, the rare word "Forever" glows above both our heads. But on the eve of our son Oscar Baxter's birthday, I stumble upon a conversation between Francine and her client, Dale Stratton. In it, I discover that she has been letting Dale use Oscar as a substitute for his deceased son, Zachary Stratton, to ease his grief. In an instant, the golden word "Forever" vanishes, and in its place is a glaring crimson number—7 Days.

The year Duncan Sadler marries Brianna Collins, everyone says he's lucky. After all, he only gets to marry Brianna because he looks so much like his older brother, Lucas Sadler. Duncan knows better than anyone that he's nothing more than a stand-in for Lucas. But he loves Brianna, so he's willing to spend his entire life in his brother's shadow. That is, until he turns 50 and overhears Brianna talking to a friend. "If only Lucas hadn't died back then…" Overwhelmed with emotion, Duncan clutches his chest and falls down the stairs. When he opens his eyes again, he's back in high school. This time, he chooses to keep his distance from Lucas and Brianna.

By the time I'm done interviewing the final guest, the blister on my ankle has been rubbed raw, turning the spot into a bloody mess. Sadie Jensen, whom I've been secretly dating, appears with a plaster. However, she brushes right past me and walks up to Connor Lewis, my best friend. "You've been standing in those dress shoes for over ten hours now! Are you trying to destroy your feet on purpose? Don't come complaining to me about the pain later!" Laughter ripples through the crowd. "Ms. Jensen is so stubborn. If she's worried about him, she should just say it! Why's she hiding her concern behind her sharp tongue?" "When it gets cold, she brings him a jacket. When his blood sugar level drops, she brings him chocolate. The second he says he's tired, she immediately cancels everyone's overtime!" "I'll bet a month's worth of breakfast that she's hopelessly in love with Connor. I'm positive the two of them are secretly involved with each other." The entire department erupts in teasing hoots and whistles. Blushing, Connor waves them down. "Oh, you guys… Stop being so ridiculous!" He hands me the plaster. "My feet are fine. You can have this." I withdraw my outstretched hand and force out a weak smile. "It's fine. I don't need it." To avoid raising any suspicion about our relationship, Sadie shoves me aside. She pushes Connor down onto a chair before crouching down in front of him. Then she takes off his shoes and socks and, in one swift motion, puts the plaster on for him. By now, our colleagues are practically hollering with glee. As their cheery voices echoed all around me, I'm hit with a realization. All that talk about not wanting to arouse any suspicion? That's just a lie. The truth is, Sadie's heart belongs to someone else now.

My fated mate, Alpha Felix, had always put his adoptive sister, Serena, first. Whenever danger struck, his first instinct was always to pull her into his arms. The night our pack was attacked by rogues, he smashed through three doors just to carry Serena out of her room first. Only after making sure she was safe did he remember I was still trapped in the thick smoke. He then sent someone to find me. That incident left a bad burn scar on my shoulder. For the very first time, I forced him to choose between me and Serena. He looked at me in confusion. "Nova, Serena is just my sister. Besides, she is much weaker. Why are you competing with her?" "I swear to you, I'll treat you both equally from now on, okay?" Yet, on the day we were supposed to step onto the altar to take our vows, Serena followed us all the way to the Moon Goddess statue. Her first words were: "Brother, this is your first time taking a vow before the Moon Goddess. Shouldn't I go first?" Felix chuckled, ruffled her hair, and told her this time was different. But Serena refused to let it go. She tugged at his sleeve and begged him over and over. I watched the resolve in Felix's eyes crumble. Just as he was about to turn around to comfort me, I simply laughed. Our bond of seven years was meaningless. Without waiting for him to speak, I pulled the pack token out of my bag and shoved it into his hand. I lifted my chin toward the altar. "Go ahead."

I spent twenty hours on a train in coach, traveling more than 1,800 miles to see Harry Berger. I texted him to vent. "I'm so tired. My back feels like it’s about to break." It took him more than ten minutes to reply. "So? Do you want me to praise you for it, or feel sorry for you? "I didn’t make you come. You bought the ticket yourself, too. Don’t act like everyone owes you something." I stared at those words. The "I miss you" sticker I had intended to send remained unsent. Then he sent me an airport location. "Gemma heard you were coming and bought a ticket at the last minute. She wants to meet up with us. She has a lot of luggage, so I’m going to pick her up first since I’ll be passing by. Take a cab over yourself." After that, he transferred me twenty dollars for the cab. But the train station and the airport were on opposite ends of Westhaven. Then the notification sound for my starred contact went off. Gemma had posted on social media. In the photo, Harry was pulling her suitcase, one hand protectively resting at her waist. She proudly held up her first-class ticket. "Thanks to Mr. Berger for the first-class ticket! Five-star service. Definitely recommended!" I zoomed in on the picture and looked at the $2,000 ticket. Then I sent the twenty dollars for the cab back. I struggled to drag my suitcase down the steps and headed toward the airport. This time, I knew I wasn't going there to see him. I was going there to say goodbye to the version of myself who was always running toward him.

It was common knowledge that the Marsh family was the family with the strictest household rules in upper-class society. They adhered to the rules unyieldingly, and there were so many of them that the rulebook was thicker than ten legal codices. One of the rules was: If any woman wanted a divorce, she had to roll on a bed of nails for half an hour before she was allowed to leave. In the past, Violet Stane insisted on marrying River Marsh and never thought about getting a divorce. After all, she had spent ten years pursuing this aloof ice prince. Once she married him, she gave up on her flourishing career, stopped being so aggressive, obeyed the ridiculous number of house rules, and became the perfect wife for River. But she no longer wanted to do that.