Plot Twists Short Stories & Bias Awakening Novels

The day Martin Lovell is crowned king, I'm made his queen. During the kingdom's founding ceremony, assassins attack Martin and me, and I step in to stop them. But as I'm shielding Martin, he grabs me and pulls me into a blade's path so that I take the hit meant for my half-sister. As the blade sinks into my flesh, the blood filling my mouth stifles my cries of pain. Martin holds the trembling Rosie Franklin in his arms, gently wiping away her tears as he says to me, "Helena Franklin, you know how it is. You're a skilled fighter, and you even have supernatural powers. But your sister has none of that." I die in despair. As my consciousness fades, I hear the system's voice. [Helena, you have only one chance left to complete your mission. If you fail for the tenth time, you'll be erased from existence permanently.]

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.

Lucas Ashton and I have secretly dated for five years. We're preparing to announce our relationship during a business dinner. However, he doesn't mention a word of it during the dinner. Instead, he leans close to me and whispers half-jokingly, "I'm sick of sleeping with you and want to call it quits. Shall we not disclose our relationship?" I smile and nod. Then, I point at Emily Lane, his first love. "This is Lucas' girlfriend." In my past life, I pleaded with him not to leave me. All that got me was torment and death.

After our coming-of-age awakening ceremony, my entire family gathered to choose a mate for my twin sister, Celeste. Adrian placed the list of North America's most powerful Alpha heirs in front of her. "Only the best is worthy of Celeste." Then Ryan stepped forward with a courtship application. The same Ryan who had once slipped a black onyx ring onto my finger and promised that, after our awakening, he would ask me to become his mate. Now he offered that future to my sister. "Choose me, Celeste," he said. "No one will ever know you better than I do." My parents smiled as if this were exactly how things were supposed to be. Only after they had planned Celeste's engagement did they remember that I needed a mate too. Dad barely looked at me. "Your abilities are average. Find a young Alpha from some ordinary pack and settle down." Adrian agreed. Ryan even warned me not to embarrass the family by expecting more than I deserved. None of them noticed the documents clenched in my hand. They hadn't read the Royal Talent results, either. If they had, they would have known that Celeste had ranked sixth. And I had ranked first. First in mental power. First in combat. First in royal mate compatibility. While my family was deciding which ordinary wolf might be willing to take me, the most powerful man in our world had already made his choice. I looked at Ryan's courtship application, then signed the contract bearing the royal seal. They could give Celeste every Alpha heir in the North. I would become Alpha King Ronan's Luna Queen.

I come from an old-money family. My grandfather's will was ironclad: whoever gets an Ivy League acceptance letter unlocks 25% of a massive trust fund and a seat on the family board. Out of four siblings, I was the only one who stood a chance. Every night, my mother Victoria carefully made me a cup of "organic brain-boosting matcha." My twin sister Chloe and younger brother Mason never got that privilege. The night before the December SAT—the last chance for Regular Decision Ivy scores—Victoria handed me my green matcha as usual. The next day, my mind went completely blank during the test. I blacked out. I missed that application season. Meanwhile, Chloe—who spent her time at yacht parties and couldn't read an equation—miraculously got an offer from UPenn and sailed right onto the board. The second year, right before the test, my snobby cousin Brianna reached for my matcha. Victoria slapped her hand away and screamed: "Don't touch Ava's things!" That exam, I got severe stomach cramps and was rushed to the ER by ambulance. I had to drop out again. And Brianna—who only cared about designer bags—somehow got into Cornell and took her board seat. The whole family popped champagne in our Upper East Side penthouse. I became the laughingstock of Manhattan's elite, having missed two application seasons in a row. Why did my body crash like clockwork, right at the final, life-changing SAT? Prepping for the third time, I took no chances. For three days before the test, I ate only gluten-free detox meals controlled by a private nutritionist. But the night before the big test, Victoria smiled and brought me that familiar cup of green matcha.

House Ashbourne had a rule for marrying off its daughters: a suitor had to shoot down the ceremonial orb hung high in the family chapel, blindfolded, before he could come to claim his bride. I'd been foretold at birth to become queen. My parents didn't want me to suffer in the palace, so they promised me as a child to the heir of House Hawthorne. But Cedric Hawthorne, an archer who never missed and was hailed as the army's rising star, failed to hit the orb for five straight years after I came of age. I went from the most envied girl in the capital to its laughingstock. When word reached the palace, the Crown Prince came to our house himself and said he'd like to try. I hurried to my father's study, only to hear Cedric's voice, low and hushed. "Next month Rosamund leaves to marry far away in the south. I don't want to spend the little time we have left as nothing more than her sister's fiance." My sister threw herself into his arms, her voice thick with tears. "If only you weren't Evelina's fiance." Even my parents, who'd always doted on me, sighed and went along with it. "He's already missed five times. What's the harm in making Evelina wait one more year?" My heart lurched as it finally hit me: every hurt I'd suffered these five years had come from the people closest to me. Fighting back the sting of tears, I turned to the man who'd followed me there. "Then, Your Highness, I'd ask you to come to the family chapel and try."

On our third wedding anniversary, Kent gave me a gift. A black metal wristband. Cold. Sleek. He called it a new product from his company—a pain-sharing system. The other user was Violet. His "girl bro." The person he was closer to than his own sister. Kent brushed a hand over my cheek, his gaze soft. "Clara, you're too coddled. You should learn from Violet. She's tough." Then he snapped the wristband onto my wrist. So while Violet got a full-back tattoo and an entire sleeve, I felt every single needle. When Violet went wingsuit flying, I collapsed at home. Every bone in my body felt shattered. I threw up blood. While she soaked up attention online as the "extreme sports queen," I was drowning in nonstop pain. Kent sat beside me, holding my hand as he cared. "Just hang in there. Violet's just being herself. As my wife, you should be more understanding." To finally push me over the edge, Violet decided to livestream herself jumping into the ocean to make me die in her place. Their friends couldn't wait to watch. Later, I watched calmly from a hospital room as the system slowly drained the life out of her. Kent looked deranged as he demanded to know why I wasn't dead. Because I had already reversed the system. All her vitality had become the nourishment that sustained me.

My mom kindly took in the daughter of her deceased friend. Unexpectedly, the girl smoked, drank, fought, and refused to improve. She even fell madly in love with the school bully and jumped into a river to prove her love for him. My mom tried to save her, but the girl pushed her head underwater. The girl was rescued and embraced by the bully, but my mom drowned. Reborn, I stopped my mom from jumping in, but she shoved me into the river, shouting, "Why isn't it you jumping in?"

My mafia boyfriend, Finn, is always bickering with his childhood friend, Amanda. For my birthday, she brought me a bullet vibe. "Here. For round two, just in case. I know his stamina better than anyone." He tossed a bottle of pale foundation at her. "Slap some more on. Maybe then someone will actually want to touch you." They shoved each other on their way out, slamming the door behind them. The candles on the cake burned down to nothing while I sat alone at the dining table. The first time our families sat down for a formal dinner, she smiled and slipped him a small bottle of lube. "Take it. So you don't make the poor girl suffer." His face darkened. "Better than you crying at night, hugging a body pillow." This time, Finn had arranged a private island vacation. A mutual friend quietly gave me a heads-up, telling me he was planning to propose on a cliff at sunset. After a seven-year marathon, I told myself this was it. The finish line was finally in sight. I dressed meticulously, putting on my most expensive dress, and walked toward the helipad. I pulled open the helicopter door. Amanda was already in the co-pilot's seat. She raised an eyebrow at me. "Chloe, you're here? I'm claustrophobic, so you don't mind if I sit up front, right?" Finn, gripping the controls, turned to look me over. "Chloe, you sit in the back. I'm worried she'll have a meltdown and start scratching and biting. It'll ruin the mood." Before I could say a word, Amanda was already arguing with him. "What's that supposed to mean? You think I'm a burden?" "It's not the first time I've thought so. Why are you being so dramatic today?" Their back and forth was so practiced it felt like a script they had rehearsed a thousand times. In that moment, the exhaustion of the past seven years washed over me. And for the first time, I realized I didn't want to say yes to his proposal anymore.

I was the eldest daughter of the Beta. But my parents hid me away. My mother shoved the tray into my hands. She lowered her voice and hissed. "Your wolf is dead," my mother hissed. "You're a disgrace. Stay in the corner. Do the Omega work. Don't embarrass us." My brother, Caleb, frowned at me. "Chloe worked hard for her Silvercrest offer. Nothing can ruin her night. If the other families find out you can't even shift, we'll be a laughingstock." Then there was Julian. My fated mate. The Alpha heir of our pack. His voice was cold and sharp, as always. "Harper, tonight is the most important night of Chloe's life. Be good. Don't cause trouble." Today was the day the academy offers were announced. But my family only held a celebration for my adopted sister, Chloe. I gripped the rough fabric of my uniform. A bitter taste filled my mouth. Was I not good enough already? I was twelve when my wolf first awakened. I showed a rare healing gift. But Chloe lost her mind. She grabbed a silver blade and cried. She threatened to hurt herself. My whole family glared at me. They accused me of showing off. They said I crushed her ego. Since then, I learned to suppress my wolf. I used foul-smelling herbs to mask my scent. For six years, I endured their cold stares. I pretended to be a cripple. A useless wolf who couldn't even shift. But this time was different. The secret trials for the Lycan Healer Academy in the Royal Capital. It was the top school in the North. Every healer's ultimate dream. I watched them crowd around Chloe. Their faces glowed with pride and joy. The news of my acceptance letter died in my throat. Fine. If they thought I was just a useless loser, I didn't need to tell them my plans. In three days, I was leaving the pack. I was flying thousands of miles away to the Royal Capital.

My girlfriend, Jade Swanson, was very respectful toward her teachers. Every time we went out on a date, she even invited my single male teacher, Oliver Graham, along. Three for dinner. Three at the movies. Even when we traveled, it was three people sharing a room. I got jealous and lost my temper, but she only said, "Oliver is your mentor. Making him happy is equivalent to helping you build a good relationship. You're not very capable. Since we were little, haven't I always helped you smooth things out? You're a man, so don't be so petty!" On Valentine's Day, I finally passed my housemanship. Jade hired an outdoor band half a month in advance to celebrate for me. She said, "From now on, the three of us will no longer go out together. It's just going to be two." I waited for a full six hours until early morning, soaked under the rainstorm, yet the venue remained empty. Shivering, I made my way back to the hospital break room, where a warm, cozy light spilled from inside. Jade was carefully drying Oliver’s wet hair, her tone tinged with playful reproach. "You insisted on going out even though it was raining. What if you caught a cold?" Oliver smiled with a gentlemanly charm. "I was just going to get some candles. Jade, thank you for spending my birthday with me." Subconsciously, I opened my chat with Jade again. There were still no new messages from her. I gave a self-deprecating smile. It turned out they were "the two" she mentioned: she and Oliver. Fine then. In that case, I would stop being the invisible third wheel in their story.

When Stella Everette's junior went looking for death again, I knew she would come to peel off my skin next. It had been this way for a hundred years. Her beloved, Louie Linfield, kept throwing himself into the demon cave, trying to die for the lover he had lost there. Every time, Stella saved him and used the healthy skin from my body to replace his flesh that was burned away by the primordial flames. The skin on my body had been replaced repeatedly. There wasn't a single patch of untouched skin left. Only my face still looked somewhat like it had before. But this time, Louie burned half his face. When Stella locked me in the demon realm's prison and used torture tools to tear the skin from my entire face, there wasn't a trace of warmth in her eyes. "Lucian, Louie is my mentor's only blood relative left, and he once saved my life. You're my husband. Isn't it only right for you to help me?" She hurried away with my blood-soaked skin, leaving me alone in the lightless prison. She had forgotten that I had lost all my demonic power. I could no longer grow new skin, and I couldn't withstand the corrosive demonic energy in this place. The freezing demonic energy pierced through my entire body, tearing into what little flesh I had left. With the last bit of strength I had, I took the beaded bracelet from my wrist and pressed it against my chest. Whispering, I called out to my mentor, "I want to go home."

In my previous life, Timothy Yance's female best friend, Selina Sunther, provoked me during my and Timothy's anniversary dinner. "Rosalie, Timothy got super drunk two days ago, and I was the one who helped him change his underwear. But we're really close buddies, so don't think too much about it." I completely lost my composure at that time, resulting in me hurling my wedding ring away and tearing the marriage certificate into pieces. Later on, I gave up on all of our joint assets just so I could stay away from the shameless pair. In the end, I died in a rehabilitation center located in another country. No one bothered to reach out to me at all. After I got buried, Timothy and Selina worked together to build their business empire. Everyone sang praises about their ethereal love for each other. While people were envious of them for being such a perfect couple, they showed nothing but disdain and mockery toward me when I was mentioned. "Timothy's ex-wife never knew how to appreciate him. No wonder she wasn't worthy of him." When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the night of the anniversary dinner. This time, I just smile serenely at Selina instead of breaking down. Then, I turn to link arms with my male best friend, Calvin Solt, whom I've specifically invited to dinner. I even rest my cheek on his chest. Timothy's expression changes drastically, whereas Selina's smile freezes on her face. Calvin merely smiles faintly before he raises his glass to Timothy as a toast. "Don't misunderstand our relationship, Timothy. Rosalie and I have known each other for 20 years, so we're used to taking care of each other. "Heck, I was also the one taking care of Rosalie the whole time on our first night together, be it in bed or the aftercare."

Over the weekend, my wife, Madeline Puth, invited her coworker, Kenneth Wilson, over for dinner. When the three of us reached the front door, Kenneth casually pressed his finger to the fingerprint lock. The door clicked open. I froze and stared at him. Madeline glanced at me and said as if it were the most natural thing in the world, "He's been here a few times before. He registered his fingerprint for convenience." Kenneth smiled at me. I returned his smile without a word. Then I walked inside, grabbed my bag, and headed straight for the door. Madeline hurried after me. "Where are you going?" I pulled the door open. "I'm clearly not the man of this house anymore, so of course I'm leaving."

I spent five years chasing Tyler Watson, only to get kidnapped right in front of him. He just stood there and watched. As a result, I suffered. After I escaped, he acted all high and mighty and proposed to make up for his tiny bit of guilt. The second we got our marriage certificate, the Simp System’s voice rang in my head. “Congrats, host! You’ve completed your mission.” Just like that, my sanity finally returned. While Tyler waited in a hotel for me to bring him contraceptives, I went live to expose his cheating. For good measure, I even called the anti-vice office to report my dear husband for soliciting prostitutes.

On the day I sold my house, my best friend asked me. “Aren’t you getting married soon? Why are you selling your new home?” I signed the transfer agreement and replied, “Because I’m breaking up with him.” We were supposed to buy a particular couch for our new home. Caleb Graham said he had not managed to snag it yet, so he asked me to wait a little longer. Then, I saw that very couch in Claire Silva’s Stories. She had specifically tagged Caleb. [It’s the one I’ve been waiting for so long! He still knows me so well!] In the comments section, Caleb simply replied, [Don’t mention it.] That was followed by a bunch of trivial chatter between the two of them. I stared at that Stories post for a long time. Then, I canceled the order for the matching pajamas. I scrolled back through my order history. I had ordered over a hundred packages. They were all for furnishing our new home. At first, Caleb would enthusiastically pick things out with me. Later on, he did not even bother to reply to my messages. It was because Claire, his first love, had gotten divorced. His attention toward me and our new home had shifted elsewhere. “If a buyer contacts us, I’ll let you know right away.” The real estate agent slid his business card across the table. I reached out to take it. Then, I cast one last glance at this place. ‘Caleb, I admit that I regret it,’ I thought. Seven years had passed, and I no longer wanted to build a home with him.

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.

I had been dating Sean Barnes for three years, and during all that time, I never once asked him to dine at a fancy restaurant. He kept a strictly balanced ledger for all our romantic spendings. If a meal crossed the budget, he would go out of his way to earn back the extra amount. Before heading off to work, he would always plant a kiss on me. “Gotta save up for that wedding, baby.” While away on those business trips, he never failed to report every detail of his itinerary, so I never once doubted him. One night before Thanksgiving, Sean claimed the cost of the gifts he got for my parents had gone way over budget, prompting yet another trip out of town. “You wouldn’t want our wedding date to keep getting pushed back time and again, would you? I’ll be back on Thanksgiving. You have my word.” Gazing at the exhaustion in his eyes, my heart softened, and I yielded. Came Thanksgiving Day, and my parents and I waited in vain late into the night, while Sean’s phone rang on without being picked up. Faced with the worried looks in my parents’ eyes, I forced a smile, then drove through the night to the place where Sean was supposed to be working out of town. When I arrived at the hotel, however, I found him holding a wedding ceremony with my best friend, Michelle Hudson. They were kissing amidst the loud cheers of the crowd. At that exact moment, a message popped up on my phone from Sean. “Sorry babe, just wrapped up with the emergency surgery.” Watching Sean put away his phone on stage with a face full of tenderness, I dialed the number of my friend, the CEO of an entertainment agency. “How much for a trending hashtag? I want the whole world to know about a certain wedding.”

My mate's first love was in the maternity ward with me. We gave birth to two baby boys on the very same day. My son inherited my pure-blood Alpha lineage—the heir everyone expected to one day inherit everything I had. I spent decades loving him, protecting him, and giving him everything a mother could. But as he grew older, something never seemed right. He was painfully ordinary. No powerful wolf. No signs of an Alpha awakening. Not even the strength expected of a pure-blood heir. I blamed myself for years, wondering if something had gone wrong with his bloodline. It wasn't until the day I was dying that I learned the truth. The son I had loved and raised for decades wasn't my biological child at all. On the very day the babies were born, my mate, Ryan, had conspired with Isabella to switch them. They wanted Isabella's ordinary kid to take the place of my pure-blood Alpha heir. Meanwhile, my real son was abused by Isabella for years. She was even planning to stage an "accident" and kill him before his wolf awakening. After I died, my soul refused to move on. I watched with my own eyes as the fake son ran into Isabella's arms and called her Mom. I watched Ryan marry her. I watched the three of them live a life of luxury and privilege. Meanwhile, my real son had already been killed by them. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day the two babies were born. When I saw the two newborns the nurse brought in, I didn't hesitate for even a second. The first thing I did was take my real son back.

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.