Bias Inspirational Short Stories & Novels

The pack threw a massive party for my sister, Aria. She got into the Royal Wolf Academy. My father, the Alpha, pinned the pack crest to her gown. It was the ultimate symbol of Stonecrest’s future. His voice boomed over the crowd, "Aria is a once-in-a-generation prodigy! She showed Alpha dominance at just sixteen. She is our fiercest weapon." And me? His other daughter. I stood in the corner. Completely invisible. No one even offered me a drink. At dinner, my mother—our flawless Luna—bragged about every single achievement, "Aria shifted at ten. She won the Northern Trials at thirteen without a single scratch. She only studied for six months to get into the Royal Academy!" An old elder finally glanced my way and asked, "And Cassian? I heard she got accepted somewhere too?" My mother’s smile froze. My father just looked away in silence. Aria broke the silence, "Yes. Cassian's college is pretty far from the pack..." I got a full ride to Columbia University. The acceptance letter has been on my nightstand for fifty days. But nobody asked about it. My mother quickly recovered, forced a smile, and told the elder, "Cassian is just so independent. She always handles things on her own." Independent. Right. Was I 'independent' at ten? Aria and I both had our first shift. She got a rare elixir from our parents to stabilize her power. I was left to fight my rampaging wolf alone, again and again. Was I 'independent' at thirteen during the Northern Trials? A feral beast attacked. I took every hit to protect Aria. My parents rushed to check on her, terrified. I was left to stitch my own wounds in silence. At eighteen, to make sure Aria got into the Royal Academy, I was her sparring partner by day and her tutor by night. I even did the servants' chores when they were away. Does cleaning up every mess my perfect sister makes mean I am 'independent'? The party ended. The guests left. My mother ordered me to clean up the hall. The gifts were piled high. Every single one wa

I was diagnosed with leukemia when I was fifteen. So it wouldn't hurt my sister Lena's chances on her entrance exams, my whole family agreed to keep it from her. I pretended I'd gone to the countryside to recover. Through the pain, I quietly watched over every step of her progress, and in the end I died with one regret: I never got to see her one last time. Lena only learned the truth after she got into Westbridge, and she struggled through endless grief and guilt. But in the end, she carried my hopes with her and chose to live fully. As she grew, she slowly learned to make peace with the pain, and through her own life, she carried on the dreams I never got to finish.

Before Mom's surgery, Mason—yeah, the Mason Leonhart from one of Brighton's big-name families—suddenly "had" to go on a business trip and couldn't be at the hospital. A few hours later, Judy Yeager blasted a video on social. There was Mason, Mr. Born-With-A-Silver-Spoon, recycling bottles with her. Caption: [If we work hard together, no hardship can scare us.] I couldn't resist. [Future Leonhart heir, worth ten billion, still helping his girl recycle bottles to trade in for cash—heartwarming.] It vanished in seconds. My phone lit up. Mason's voice? Ice cold. "Shiloh Harrington, what was that? Call Judy. Tell her you were joking." I laughed. "Keep playing your little poor-boy cosplay without me." Hung up. Three days till the divorce cooling-off ended. Then Mason could be the broke man he was pretending to be.

On the day of the World Rally Championship finals, I pressed the accelerator to the floor, ready for the final dash. The next moment, the engine exploded in a deafening roar, and thick smoke instantly filled the cockpit. Flames spread toward the fuel tank. I yanked at the door, desperate to jump out, but the handle wouldn’t budge, and the brakes felt welded in place. In that instant of despair, my husband’s voice came through the comms. “Attention, all teams, no need to rescue her. My wife is the Iron Racer! “For today’s live broadcast challenge, let’s see if she can drive this burning car across the finish line!” His co-commentator, recently recruited onto the team, chimed in with excitement. “Thomas, the sponsor just confirmed! As long as Jane holds on to the end, they’ll increase investment. I can get a permanent spot!” I understood instantly then that the husband on the commentary platform I had supported for years was using my life to pave the way for his mistress. Smoke clawed at my throat. However, I forced down the dizziness and begged, “For the sake of all our years together…” Only for him to cut me off with irritation. “Save your energy for driving. You’re skilled. Just hold on a little longer. Mandy’s promotion depends entirely on you.” The cockpit had become an inferno; my skin searing with every second. I gripped the blistering wheel, steering through the smoke for the last time. This time, my finish line was the commentary platform where the two of them were huddled together.

Before the deadline for college applications in the werewolf territories, everyone gathered around my twin sister to discuss where she should go. My older brother Damian, the Beta of our pack, pointed to Blackthorn Academy. “Of course you should choose Blackthorn. It’s my alma mater. Once you’re my junior, no one will dare bully you.” My boyfriend, Noah, pushed a Northstar Academy brochure toward her. “Don’t listen to your brother. Come to the capital with me. We can be classmates for another four years.” No one thought there was anything wrong with my boyfriend planning my sister’s future—not even Noah himself. My parents smiled in agreement. “With Noah and Damian looking after you, we won’t have to worry.” It wasn’t until there were only thirty minutes left before the application system closed that they remembered I had also taken the Seven Territories College Entrance Exam that year. My mother said casually, “Your grades are average. Just choose a college near the capital.” My brother didn’t even look up. “Right. That way, you can still come over on weekends and keep your sister company.” Noah, the Alpha heir, frowned at me, his voice carrying its usual note of criticism. “There are only thirty minutes left. Don’t miss the deadline because you were careless again and make everyone clean up your mess.” No one had asked about my exam score. And no one knew that the girl they had always dismissed as mediocre had ranked first in the entire Northern Territory. I slowly unclenched my fists and turned to the final page of the admissions guide. There was a university on the coast, twelve hundred miles away. If I accepted its offer, I would leave this pack for at least four years. This time, I didn’t remind them about me. I simply turned my laptop toward myself and clicked Confirm.

On our fifth wedding anniversary, Jacob Carter once again abandons me for his so-called first love, Wendy Miller. "Wendy's raising a child on her own. It's not easy for her. Can't you be a little more understanding? You're also a woman, aren't you?" Jacob said. In my previous life, that argument turned into a nightmare. He locked me in the house, and when a fire broke out, I was burned to death. After being reborn, I don't just give them my blessing. I pack my bags, walk out on my own terms, and apply to study architecture overseas. And now? Jacob's the one falling apart—crying and begging me not to go.

I spent five years weaving this pack's wards. But my mate, Alpha Jayden, tore that power from my hands. He gave it to her. To Chloe, the new Beta. The girl can't even conjure a simple shield. How could she ever hold the pack’s wards? I confronted Jayden, furious. He fed me a line about wanting Chloe to learn. To ease my burden. He claimed it hurt him to see me so drained, so overworked for our pack. And like a fool, I fell for it. I actually believed he cared. But on our tenth mating anniversary… On our tenth anniversary, Jayden skipped the one ceremony that mattered. The full moon ritual to forge our eternal bond. He was with Chloe. He claimed it was pack business, but I felt it. He gave her a temporary mark. A mark reserved only for a true mate. Our bond fractured. The pain was a constant, searing agony. The final straw? Jayden gave Chloe the Luna’s sacred heirloom. Right in front of me. That's when I gave up. I left. And I took my power back. The wards collapsed. When the enemy pack attacked, Jayden’s wolf nearly shattered. Only then did he cast that useless Chloe aside. He crawled back to me, fell to his knees, and begged me to return and protect him.

When the village chief delivered the items for my wedding, my fiancé's adopted sister, who was the apple of his eye, suddenly burst into tears. She cut my wedding dress and smashed the wardrobe that my older brother made for me. Every time I was about to lose my temper, my fiancé, who was also my childhood sweetheart, would immediately side with her. He claimed that she was still young and did not understand jealousy; she was just insecure. Even my own brother defended her, saying I had a birth brother who doted on me. It would not hurt to give in to her. When an earthquake happened, they both ran to her and protected her tightly beneath their bodies. Meanwhile, I was trapped under the ruins for three days and three nights. My brother and fiancé tried every possible way to cheer up her, leaving the villagers to rescue me instead. When they looked at me with wounds all over my body, they only said, "Don't overthink it. Jenn is timid and frightened. We couldn't leave her alone." I was on bed rest for a month, but not once did I see them. Only the village chief came to see me. He tried to persuade me, saying, "You're the first college student in our village. Are you really going to give up on your studies just to get married? This—" I interrupted him, "I made my decision before you came. I'll report to the college on time!"

My father was critically ill. I begged my fiancé to keep his post-wedding promise—to withdraw emergency funds from the medical trust fund he had sworn to protect me forever. He refused. The next day, he announced his engagement to Pera. Overnight, I became the laughingstock of everyone. In my deepest despair, my childhood friend Seamus— The heir to a long-established Mafia family— Knelt down in the park and proposed to me in front of everyone. That night, he transferred a large sum of money to my account. I said yes without hesitation and rushed to the hospital to pay for my father's treatment. But he never woke up again. The hospital said he had suffered "unexpected complications." Everything after that—the lawyers, the funeral, all the arrangements—was handled by Seamus. Under the Mafia family's protection, everything went smoothly, and my father was able to be quietly buried. The wedding proceeded as planned. Years later, I overheard a conversation between him and the doctor who treated my father. “Seamus,” the doctor said in a low voice, “You tampered with the organ allocation priority list. You delayed Shirley’s father’s transplant so that Pera’s father could receive an organ transplant in time. You falsified the urgency level. Do you know what will happen if this is exposed?” “The list itself was legal,” Seamus replied after a pause. “I just…adjusted the urgency level.” “You committed medical fraud,” the doctor said sharply. “You ruined his only chance to live. All for Pera. Don’t you regret it?” “I don’t regret it,” Seamus answered without hesitation. “I would do anything for her. Even my life, even the honor of the Mafia family.” “Throughout our marriage, I’ve been trying to make up for everything I owed Shirley. That should be enough.” My vision blurred. Only then did I finally understand— The woman he truly loved was always Pera. "If that's really the case," I thought numbly,"Then I should leave."

I'd never had a life of my own. I'd spent it trying to be my sister. All because I missed her last call before she supposedly took her own life. My parents blamed me for her death and made me live as her from then on. I copied her handwriting, her voice, her mannerisms, and even her hobbies. But my parents were never satisfied. "We gave you the answer key, and you still failed the test." Then I met Arthur Whitman. He told me I could be myself. The night before our wedding, someone sent me a hotel key card in Arthur's name. When I pushed the door open, I found Arthur clutching my sister, Clara Hale, who'd supposedly been dead for years. His eyes were red. I froze where I stood. I couldn't stop my hands from shaking. My parents rushed in. One held me back while the other shielded Clara. "Your sister was Arthur's first love. You're just a stand-in. Without her, Arthur wouldn't have looked at you twice. "Now she's back. You should've given your sister her life back a long time ago!" Hearing that, something in me died. I took off my engagement ring and threw it at Arthur's feet. From now on, I'd live for myself.

I was supposed to be nothing more than a doomed side character in someone else's story. After I woke up to the truth, though, I became the male lead's best friend instead—and ended up with the wealthy girl who had always loved him, leaving him free to live happily ever after with the school's golden girl. Ten years later, though, he made a very public announcement that he was single and back in town. Then, in the old class group chat that had been inactive for a long time, he sent two messages. [I'm back. We should all get together sometime.] [@Whitney Charlton, you'll be there, right?] The group chat exploded instantly. After all, everyone still remembered the golden boy we had known back then: the charming, arrogant guy who had been the center of attention everywhere he went. When graduation came, he had not chosen the aloof top student who had pursued him for four years. Even after all those years, it was still one of those things everyone wished had ended differently. I glanced down at Whitney, asleep beside me, and raised an eyebrow. I found it regrettable too. After all, I had been waiting ten years for this opportunity.

After graduation, just before I was supposed to start working at my boyfriend's company, I got a phone call from myself twelve years in the future. I could barely get the question out fast enough. "Well? Did my genius boyfriend's startup make it?" My future self laughed softly. "It did. His company goes public when he's thirty-two, and by thirty-five, his net worth is over ten billion." I was ecstatic. "So I make it big in the industry right alongside him, right?" There was a long silence on the other end. "You have two kids, and at the company, you're in charge of... ordering takeout, filing reimbursements, hiring people, and putting together reports." I froze. Her words suddenly came faster. "So listen to me. Take a different job. "Don't work for him and spend your time doing whatever needs doing. Take the development job at that major tech company that offered you a role. "Three years from now, the Director of Engineering gets fired for bribery. You'll have a shot at taking his place, with an annual salary of five million. "Once you get that first year's salary, don't buy a car. Buy two small apartments in Briarport's old district. Two years later, that area will be redeveloped to support a new free trade zone. The relocation compensation will be enough for you to start your own company without taking out a loan." I hurried to ask, "What kind of company?" "AI." She told me about all the changes the industry would go through over the next twelve years, then carefully walked me through several crucial turning points I needed to remember. There were only ten seconds left on the call. I stopped her before she could hang up. "One last question." "Xenia Wells, is your dream still alive?"

The school boxing match. My son Leo’s gloves were lined with broken glass. I carried him from the ring. Blood was everywhere, staining the canvas crimson. And Isabella, the monster behind it all, just stood there smirking. A snake's smile. She dragged her son over, then slapped me. Hard. Again and again. She tried to force me to my knees. "Some gutter trash like you… thinks he can challenge the Falcone heir? This is what happens. Believe me, I say the word, and you disappear. Poof." I just raised an eyebrow. The Falcone family has one heir this generation. My son, Leo. So when did a Falcone become gutter trash? I wiped the blood from my lip. I called the Don—the man my father made. "I hear the Falcone family has a new heir." Let's see who has the nerve to touch the old Don's grandson.

While we were decorating the new house for my wedding, my parents and my future mate, Garrett Horne, kept asking my sister what she thought. My sister said pink was childish. So my father immediately took down the pink curtains I loved and replaced them with blue ones. Blue was her favorite color. My sister liked the look of a folding dining table. So my mother returned my custom-made elm table. It had taken three months to build. Even the small bedroom Garrett had promised me as a study wasn't spared. My sister said it was just the right size for her clothes, so they gutted the room and redid it. Garrett finalized the new plans with the workers. Only then did he remember I was standing there. "Your sister has a lot of clothes. The whole house will be yours eventually. Giving up one room costs you nothing." My father chimed in. "Your sister is offering advice on decorating your new home. You should be grateful." My mother joined in. "It looks so much better now that we've done it your sister's way." Slowly, my hands curled into fists. When we were kids, my sister was the family's precious princess. If she'd wanted a star from the sky, my parents would have found a way to bring it down. I never imagined that once we grew up, Garrett would become one more knight at her service. I looked around the house I'd put together piece by piece. Every part of it had been changed to suit her tastes. Something in me went cold. I messaged Harold Huff, the man who wanted to be with me. If nothing I wanted was good enough for them, I'd find someone who liked me. And I would walk out of their lives for good.

My fiancé, Alpha Theron, was the star player on the pack hockey team. Yet even as his mate, the pack mocked me as a fat pig that had wandered in among wolves. But when he was attacked, I was the one who stepped in front of him. Hockey sticks came down on my back and my shoulders. The pain cut to the bone, and I gritted my teeth and took it. That overweight body everyone despised was the only reason not one blow landed on him. It was also what finally made the old Luna nod and agree to let me marry into the family. But while I lay unconscious from my injuries, Theron announced that he would mark my stepsister Hannah, the cheer captain, instead. Not only that. Hannah posted videos online of the two of us practicing cheer routines together. "Who wants to watch a pig dance sexy? The Alpha had his reasons for turning her down." "Look at all that useless fat. Is that really a wolf?" Then, while the mockery was at its worst, she asked me to forgive her, as if none of it had been on purpose. When my heart was already ash, my father and my stepmother threw me out of the house. "All that fat, clumsy and ugly, and she cannot even hold on to her own mate." "She is that fat and still joined the cheer squad. Now the rest of us get mocked too. How humiliating!" As a rogue, I swallowed every kind of suffering there is. In one year I lost over a hundred pounds and became the brightest cheer sweetheart in the league. Then I turned around and cheered for the most valuable player on the ice. Theron heard about it and came running. He dropped to his knees with red eyes and clung to the hem of my skirt. "You were my love, my mate! What does that idiot who can only swing a stick have that I don't?"

The year I turned 20, Vincenzo Romano, the Don of the Romano family, suddenly confessed his feelings for me beneath the August meteor shower. He said he'd secretly loved me for years. I looked at his jaw, clenched so tight it looked unnatural, and said yes. For five years, he spoiled me rotten. Whenever he came home from a trip abroad, he brought me a bouquet of pink myrtle. Whenever we made love, he kissed the tip of my ear and called me his "little princess." Then one day, I overheard his right-hand man, Dario Bassi, talking to him. "Are you really going to keep up the act with Enora? Didn't you only get with her back then to make Lyla jealous? "Lyla's divorced and back now. You can drop the act, can't you?" That night, I opened the locked drawer in his study. He'd once told me it held little reminders of our love. Instead, I found his keepsakes from Lyla Ferraro: a watch, emerald cufflinks, a sandalwood rosary... Each piece was engraved with their initials. There was also a stack of love poems in Latin, written in his own hand. They were passionate and lyrical, nothing like the calm face he showed the world. Every one of them was addressed to Lyla. Five years. Five years of lies, shattered in seconds. I quietly booked a train ticket to Geneva. In two days, I'd be out of Vincenzo's life forever.

On our eighth anniversary, Claire Young announced that she had already registered her marriage with her childhood friend. She took him home, ordering me around as if it was only natural. "Move to another room. Stan loves sunshine." "Stan doesn't like sweets, so don't bake any when you're at home. He'd be upset if he saw it." I kept quiet through it all and bought a ticket to leave. My friend wanted to help me out of the predicament, but she didn't think it was a big deal. "He's just being dramatic again. Let him be—he'd be caving in just a few days." Everyone laughed at that, and quietly made bets as to when I'd come crawling back to Claire's feet. None of them knew I was already inducted into the national weapons program, and that I was really leaving.

Reborn as the long-lost Rogers heir, missing for fifteen years, I avoided every chance to bond with my two brothers in this family. When they tossed me Vivi’s discarded, ill-fitting gown for the family gala, I smiled and put it on. When they sent Vivi to get an elite education while ordering me to scrub the utility room, I picked up the mop without a word. When they let Vivi chase love and dumped her rejected suitor on me, I didn’t fight. I accepted her leftovers with a calm nod. This was all because in my past life, I had spent my entire life desperate for my brothers' approval, only to end up despised by everyone for it. When I died in the crossfire of a gangland shootout, my own son pushed my body away in disgust. "Mom, did you really waste your whole life on such a petty fight with Aunt Vivi? Dying for the family would have been a more dignified end. At least then you wouldn't have disgraced our name." I left this world filled with resentment, only to open my eyes and find myself back at the moment I first set foot in the Rogers estate. This time, I'm done fighting. The power, the name, the honor. I'm letting them have it all. I’ve already been accepted into a closed-door medical project. Soon they will never see me again.

My fiancé, Orlando, was a mafia captain. Three years ago, he got caught in a shootout, and someone tried to kill him. I took the bullet for him without thinking twice. The wound left me so weak that I spent most of my days stuck at home. Afraid I'd get hurt again, Orlando brought in a maid named Cecilia to look after me and act as my stand-in. Whatever was meant for me, she tried it first to make sure it was safe. Little by little, she got everything before I did. First to break in my heels. First to sleep in my wedding bed. Even the trip to Iceland I'd waited years for—she went with Orlando first, in my place. When the accident happened at the shopping center, Orlando still carried Cecilia into the emergency stairwell first. A falling stone column crushed my ankle. Lying in that hospital bed, I finally lost it. Orlando only frowned at me. "Nadia, stop making a scene. Cecilia is just your stand-in. She faces the danger first so you can stay safe." He sounded so sincere. He took my hand and pressed it to his lips. "Nadia, try to understand how hard this is for me. I can't let you get hurt again. I just can't." That devotion of his made me give in one more time. I never imagined that even at my own wedding—the day that mattered more to me than anything—Cecilia would wear my wedding dress before I did. I can make do with something secondhand. But I don't want a secondhand man.

I was the lowliest orphan in the Moretti family. Other women dreamed of becoming the Donna who ran the household and pulled the strings. Old Mary, the former Don's lover, taught me only two things: how to obey and how to stay alive. Once you've caught the eye of a powerful man, you give everything you have to please him. But the moment another woman shows up at his side, even if he only glances at her, you disappear. Immediately. I never understood why, but I followed those rules to the letter, always on edge, and so far, they had kept me safe. Then one day, Antonio Moretti, the youngest Don in the family's history, turned his attention to me. I used every trick Old Mary had taught me and tiptoed around him day after day, waiting on him hand and foot. To my surprise, cold, ruthless Antonio fell for it completely. He showered me with affection like no one else. Whenever he went somewhere dangerous, he always let me know beforehand so I wouldn't worry. He never left me wondering if something terrible had happened to him. Jealous women from the branch families tried everything to get close to him. He looked right through them and sent them packing on the spot. Everyone was sure this lowly pet of his would finally be named his Donna. Then, out of nowhere, a brilliant lawyer from an allied family appeared at Antonio's side. She held the key to legitimizing the family's businesses and was constantly at his side during negotiations. The first time Antonio left without telling me where he was going, the survival rules came rushing back to me. If I can't afford to cross her, I can at least stay out of her way.