Countdown Short Stories & Novels

After the Silvermoon pack lost the war, the vampire prince demanded a noble she-wolf as the price of peace. Everyone knew what that meant. No she-wolf sent to the Blood Court had ever been allowed to return to her pack. Our Alpha had no daughter, so he ordered his Beta’s two daughters Evelyn and me to draw lots. Before the draw, my fiancé Rowan whispered to me, “I marked the safe parchment with a crescent moon. Choose that one.” I trusted him and I chose the crescent. But when I unfolded the parchment, two words stared back at me: VAMPIRE BRIDE. My mother pulled Evelyn into her arms in relief. “Thank the Goddess it wasn’t Evelyn.” My father showed no sympathy. “You’re the eldest. Protecting the pack is your duty.” Rowan wouldn’t meet my eyes. “You saved the Alpha’s life once. If anything happens, he’ll bring you home. Evelyn has no such protection.” They all thought I had a way back. They didn’t know I had already used the Alpha’s life debt three years ago to save Rowan from execution. The draw had never been fair. They had chosen me to be the daughter who never came home. Fine. I would leave and never return.

After Heath Renwick abandons me and our daughter for Celeste Worthing's dog for the seventh time, we finally learn our lesson. He parades around with Celeste and the dog, trending online, landing magazine features, and I don't say a word. He even tears up our daughter Maisie's favorite sketchbook to line the dog's bed, and she doesn't cry or make a fuss. Then the dog chases Maisie down a flight of stairs. She hits her head and ends up in the ER with a concussion, and only then does Heath bother to show up. "Raven! Why didn't you tell me? I'm Maisie's father too!" I spend the whole night sitting outside the emergency room. I look at him, my voice perfectly calm. "It's nothing serious, just a mild concussion. She'll be out in a couple of days. We know you're busy, so Maisie will understand." Heath freezes. "A concussion is serious, and you're telling me it's nothing? What kind of a mother are you?" He wants to blow up, but the whispers around him stop him short. "Mr. Renwick really is better suited for Ms. Worthing. If she hadn't gone abroad back then, a small-town woman like Raven would never have had a chance." "Exactly. She can't even keep her own child safe." Heath frowns. "There's nothing going on with Celeste. She's like a sister to me!" I nod. "I believe you. "Maisie fell down the stairs because Prince chased her. I know that dog means everything to Celeste, so I didn't bring it up. I didn't want to put you in a difficult position." A flicker of shame crosses Heath's face. "I'll find the best doctor for Maisie. Prince is everything to Celeste, you know that. She has mental health issues." "Mr. Renwick, I understand. Maisie doesn't need to call you Dad anymore." He panics. "If you're upset, just say so! Stop putting on this act and dragging the kid into it!" I nod. "Okay. I got it." I'm not planning to make a scene. I already have plane tickets to Eraly. In five days, we'll have nothing to do with each other anymore.

For three years, Hallie Larson has managed to keep her affair so carefully hidden that I can't find a single trace of the other man. Once, I find a pair of men's underwear in the back seat of her car, still warm, as if someone has only just taken them off. Other times, I notice fresh, suspicious marks behind her ear. Every time, I lose my temper. I tear through the house, demanding to know who the man is. Hallie only furrows her brow, looking more exhausted than guilty. "Sebastian, how long are you going to keep imagining things? If you're going to accuse me of cheating, then at least show me the man you claim exists." So, I start following her everywhere, 24 hours a day. I even call every relative and friend I can think of, asking them to stake out hotels with me so we can finally catch her in the act. But every time we force open a hotel room door, we find nothing. Mwanehilwe, Hallie is sitting calmly on the couch, a faint, mocking smile playing on her lips. "Go ahead," she says. "Search the room." On the way out of the room, my mother takes my hand and sighs. "Sebastian, trust is the most important thing in a marriage. You keep making a scene like this every day. What do you think you're doing to Hallie's reputation?" Even my best friend tries to talk some sense into me. "Maybe you're under too much stress. Maybe you're imagining all of this." But I can't forget what I see on Hallie's collarbone—a faint trace of moisture she hasn't completely wiped away. It's so out of place, so suspicious, that I can't bring myself to dismiss it.

The day before our marking ceremony, a vengeful witch laid a curse on me. Over the next seven days, I would slowly forget the man I loved. For the two hours it took Adrian Blackwood to return to the packhouse, I rehearsed a dozen different ways to tell him. After all, he had once defied the Elders to make me—an Omega—his Luna. But before I could say a word, Adrian took my hand, his features hardening with urgency. “Evelyn, we may have to postpone tomorrow’s ceremony.” “Serena is back from the Frostlands Pack. She’s been diagnosed with Wolf-Soul Wasting. Her dying wish is to experience a complete marking ceremony before she goes.” “You and I have the rest of our lives. Once she returns to the Moon Goddess, I’ll hold another ceremony and make you my Luna. All right?” He looked at me with the same quiet hope he had worn the night he asked me to be his mate. Only now, he was asking my permission to hold a marking ceremony with another woman first. I held his gaze for a long moment, then nodded. “All right,” I whispered. “You have my blessing.” Within seven days, I would not even remember the man I had given it to.

My best friend Chloe jumped off a cliff and killed herself after being assaulted. I was the only one who knew the monster who did it. Yet, I refused to tell anyone the truth. When her mother knelt at my feet and begged, I turned my back on her and walked away. The citizens cursed me, calling me a monster, and drove me out of the city-state. I accepted it all in silence. For the next ten years, I lived a miserable, lonely life in the woods, barely scraping by. Until I was weak and on the verge of death. Juliette, the best friend Chloe and I shared, returned to the city as the High Priestess of Athena. The very first thing she did was drag me to the Altar of Divine Punishment. "Olivia, you vicious bitch! You protected the monster who ruined her! We were blind to ever call you a sister!" "Chloe has been dead for ten years, and you let that bastard walk free for just as long!" "Today, I’m going to use Athena’s Mirror of Truth to see exactly who you’ve been protecting with your life!" But when the real culprit was finally revealed, Juliette broke down completely, dropping to her knees in pure disbelief.

After Damian abandoned Noah and me for Sofia and Luca yet again, we finally learned to stop asking. He took them to family dinners and interviews, even let Luca sit in the seat that had always belonged to Noah. I stopped arguing. So did Noah. He gave the gold pistol that marked Noah as his heir to Luca as a birthday gift, and Noah simply nodded obediently and wished Luca a happy birthday. Three days later, Noah fell down the stairs and struck his head against a step. He lost consciousness and was taken to the hospital with a mild concussion. Damian arrived after I had already spent the night outside the emergency room. “Elena, why didn’t you call me? I’m Noah’s father too.” “It’s nothing serious. He’ll be discharged after two days of observation. I knew you were busy. Noah understands.” Damian’s expression darkened. “A concussion is nothing serious? What kind of mother are you? If you’re angry with me, say it. Don’t pretend you don’t care and drag our son into it.” I nodded. “Okay. I understand.” He stared at me, probably waiting for the argument I would have started before. I didn’t. Our plane tickets were booked for five days later. Once I took Noah away from New York, none of this would matter anymore.

It's been ten years since I followed my fated mate, Grace Murphy, into the human world. Her childhood friend, Fred Williams, is dying. His one last wish? To experience marriage. Grace said yes. She told me she wanted to give her wedding to Fred. I didn't cry. I didn't fight. I just smiled, slid the ring off my finger, and handed it back to her. She brought Fred home and said she wanted to give him a home. I said, “Okay,” softly, and stepped aside—clean, neat, no fuss. She wanted to take Fred to Hawaii—the honeymoon destination I'd been dreaming about for years. I still helped her book everything, calm and composed. The day she boarded that plane, I finally answered the summons from my pack. Three days from now, I'll be gone.

After Graduation, I Married Lucas Bellmont, the Hottest Star Captain in American Hockey. Three years into our marriage, he suddenly became obsessed with my body, a complete 180 from his usual cold demeanor. He wanted me night after night, saying he wanted us to have a child. Despite the ache in my body, my heart swelled with sweetness. I thought he'd finally accepted me. At a gala, I shared the news with my best friend—Lucas's adopted sister, Clara. She ran off in tears. Lucas, usually so composed, went pale. He lashed out at me for saying such things in front of Clara, then left without a second thought. I followed, worried, and found them locked in an embrace. "If it weren't for you, I'd never have married her. If it weren't for your pregnancy, I wouldn't be touching her now." "Everything I'm doing—making her have the baby quickly so we can swap it with ours—it's all for our future. So our child can be the rightful heir." "Clara, just hold on a little longer, okay?" Lucas's voice was softer than I'd ever heard it. All for another woman. His adopted sister. My so-called best friend. I didn't cry. I didn't make a scene. I turned around and called my lawyer for a divorce agreement. Since he'd never loved me. In seven days, I'd be gone from his life for good.

I have a secret. Whenever I touch someone, I can see the face of the person they love most. This is not an ability ordinary werewolves possess. I am a Moon Seer, a rarity that appears perhaps once in a century. I cannot read thoughts or memories, but I have never been wrong about a person’s heart. I had been the person Ronan Hartson loved most since he moved next door at seven. Our wolves recognized each other when we turned eighteen. When our Mate Bond awakened, I still saw only myself in his heart. Ronan officially claimed me at twenty two. He left his mark on my neck and announced before the entire Blackridge Pack that I was his only mate and the Luna of Blackridge. Our Mate Bond remained unshaken for three years. Then, at six weeks pregnant, I touched his collar before he left for work. I had known Ronan for twenty one years and touched him more than a hundred thousand times. This was the first time I discovered that I was no longer the only woman in his heart. That night, he lied about patrols. That night, I saw him feed her cake with his own hands. He thought our Mate Bond would keep me tethered to him forever. He thought I would never leave. But he forgot one thing: I don’t need a man to feel whole. And I will never raise my child in a house built on lies. He chose to protect her. I chose to protect myself.

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."

In my family, I'm the only son in my household who is raised on an installment plan. Because in this family, my parents refuse to raise a useless child. When my sister wants concert tickets, he just has to help Mom sweep the floor once, and he gets them. When my brother wants to install a gaming setup in her room, she just has to give Dad a quick shoulder massage. But me? Every time I need money, I have to sign an IOU. Over 18 years, I've accumulated a drawerful of IOUs, piled together like a thick ledger. And because asking for money feels like the ultimate humiliation, I gradually learn to live frugally. This summer, I work three jobs and scrape together enough to cover my college tuition. But when I reach the bus stop, I realize I've left my dorm key at home. There's nothing I can do but call Mom. "Mom, I left my key at home. Could you please bring it to me?" She pauses. "I'm busy. I'm making cookies for your brother right now. I'll mail them to you in a couple of days." The problem is… the "couple of days" soon turns into a whole week. On the seventh day, the package finally arrives. When I tear it open, I find a note alongside my key. "Miles Martinez owes Vanessa Leech ten dollars for postage, to be repaid by the end of the month." At the bottom, she even thoughtfully leaves a blank space for the date. I clutch the note as tears well up in my eyes, blurring the words on it. After a long while, I pull out my phone and send a message to my professor. "Professor, I've decided to accept the offer to study abroad. Please submit my name for the scholarship application." Once I settle every last debt, I'll walk away with a clean slate to chase a life that's mine and mine alone.

At my mating ceremony, my fated mate left me at the altar. Alpha Caleb Thorne. In front of the whole pack. All because his childhood friend, Jenna Bell, had another one of her panic attacks. "Jenna needs me," he said, his voice tense. "She's terrified. Only my Alpha scent can calm her. The ceremony is off. We'll wait for the next full moon." Whenever Jenna called, my Alpha dropped everything and ran to her. I used to cry. I used to beg him to stay. But this time, he rushed off before I could even say a word. Good. I was done begging. When I got back to our penthouse alone, a notification popped up. A Live Photo from Jenna on the pack's social feed. My Alpha, holding her in his arms under the moonlight. A gentle savior. The caption read: "C, thank you for always being there for me, for spending the full moon with me." I pressed down on the image. The Live Photo played, and their voices came through. "Caleb, Evelyn must be furious you left her at the ceremony. Maybe you should go back…" "Don't worry about it. She's an orphan. She can't leave me. Where else would she even go? I'll let her cool off, then go smooth things over." A cold smile touched my lips. Then I unclasped the moonstone necklace—the symbol of my Luna status. And I called my father. The Lycan King. "Dad, I lost the bet. The ceremony is off. I'm coming home." Caleb thought he had all the time in the world. He thought there would be a "next time" to make it up to me. He didn't know about the five-year bet I made with my father. And he didn't know my time was up.

I am the Moon Goddess Cynthia's spirit rabbit. My mistress is the most beautiful woman on Olympus. Yet for a mortal named Arthur, she lowered her divine rank and spent eight hundred years by his side in the mortal realm. The priests sneered at Arthur. "He only grows his divinity when the goddess cracks the whip. What a pathetic, henpecked fool." Arthur always smiled gently. "As long as I can stay by Cynthia's side, nothing else matters." Yet the moment he finally ascended to true godhood, he defied my mistress and brought a delicate mortal woman back from the Misty Forest. Her name was Helen. He shielded the woman behind him. "Cynthia, Helen and I have forged a soul-binding contract. No matter how you punish me, she must stay." I bared my fangs, certain Cynthia would put him in his place, the way she always had during his training. But this time, she didn't. She simply sat beneath the laurel tree Arthur had planted, stroked my ears, and spoke without emotion. "That's fine. It's too quiet here anyway. A bit of company wouldn't hurt." Arthur did not know that Cynthia had once made a wager with Zeus: if she failed to win a mortal's true love, she would have to return to the divine realm and submit to his arrangements. Cynthia had lost. The divine summons would arrive in forty-nine days. Years later, every trace of moonlight vanished from the mortal realm. The mighty new god Arthur then searched for the Moon Goddess for ten thousand years, driven mad with regret.

Brandon Hawthorne said if I wanted to marry him, I had to prove I was tough enough to be a Hawthorne. He took my bank cards, ditched me in a city I'd never been to, and made me figure out how to get home alone. When my fever hit 104°F, he still refused to let the family doctor through the door. Instead, I had to smile through dinner with a house full of Hawthorne relatives while I could barely stay on my feet. And every time I finally asked Brandon for help, he looked at me like I'd failed him. "You can't even handle something this simple. How are you supposed to be my wife?" But when his childhood friend, Patty Rowan, got blisters from her shoes, he picked her up and carried her away in front of everyone. She got a headache in the middle of the night, and he left me alone in the hospital to take the family doctor to her. I asked him why. He frowned. "Patty's fragile. And she's not the one trying to become a Hawthorne." Then came our engagement party. I accidentally ate peanuts. My throat started closing. I couldn't breathe. Brandon grabbed my EpiPen and locked me in the lounge. "This is your final test. If you want to marry me, tough it out." Then Patty called. She had a paper cut. Brandon immediately left with the doctor. "Hold out for ten minutes." I lost track of time. Right before everything went dark, I saw Brandon come back with Patty tucked close beside him. She had a Band-Aid on her finger. Through the haze, I heard the disappointment in his voice. "Patty was bleeding, and she didn't even cry. Are you seriously pretending to be dead?" Then came the final blow. "You failed the test. You're not ready to become a Hawthorne."

Being fair and treating everyone equally has always mattered most to Chase Russell. That's why he has a specialized chip implanted in my uterus. Whenever his childhood sweetheart, Joanna Reynolds, suffers from morning sickness or any other discomfort during her pregnancy, every bit of her pain is transferred to me. "Didn't you always dream of experiencing what it's like to be a mother? I'm making that dream come true for you." The day Joanna goes into labor, the pain hits me so hard that I pass out in the hospital corridor. But Chase is in the delivery room, gently comforting her. "How are you feeling? It doesn't hurt at all, does it?" Later, he tells me he wants to hold a wedding with Joanna, so she and their child can have a proper place in the family. "Although Joanna will be the one marrying me, you'll still be the one whose name is on the marriage certificate," he says. "I told you… I've always treated you both equally." I say nothing. I simply take off the wedding ring he gave me and return it to him. When the wedding march begins to play, I have already boarded a one-way flight to a faraway place.

The first time my Alpha mate chose his childhood sweetheart over me, I forgave him. After all, Dylan saved my life seven times. Seven lives saved. Seven chances given. That was the deal I made with myself. Then Dylan skipped our Mate Anniversary to celebrate her birthday. He gave her the moonstone ring I’d carved for him with my own hands, saying she needed it for protection. And when rogues attacked us both, he stepped right past me as I lay wounded and carried her to safety first. I never fought him over any of it. Each time he chose her, I silently crossed off one of the lives I owed him. The pack thought I loved my Alpha so desperately that I would forgive him no matter how many times he put another Omega before me. But I was only waiting until all seven lives I owed him had been repaid. Then one day, he broke the Mate Vow we’d sworn at the Moon Altar for her yet again. “She has no one else,” he told me. “You’re my Luna. You should understand.” And just like that, the last of what I owed him was gone. “That’s seven. We’re done.” I picked up my suitcase and headed for the Nordic Wolf Alliance in herbal medicine. Dylan and I were over, and I would never see him again.

The tenth year since I accidentally landed in modern-day America, and the system finally noticed me—a glitch in its timeline. It told me that in three days, I'd be sent back to where I truly belonged. Back to London. Back to my era. And I—I used to be one of the most powerful men in the entire British Empire. Alexander William Windsor. First in line to the British throne. The system gave me seventy-two hours. A countdown to say goodbye to this century. Day one, my fiancée Evelyn told me our wedding had to be called off. Because Ryan—the boy she'd grown up with—had been diagnosed with a terminal illness. Day two, Evelyn brought Ryan home. To our home. She said he had nowhere else to go. Asked if he could stay. Just for a while. Day three, Evelyn told me she was taking Ryan to Italy. To clear his head. ...That was supposed to be our honeymoon. No one noticed the numbers on my wrist, ticking down. Ten years of being in the wrong place. Time to end it. This time—I'm not staying for anyone.

My world fell apart over an encrypted link from the dark web. My husband, Don Marcello, was there on our marriage bed, pounding into another woman. All the top bosses in North America were watching. He held her in his arms, laughing about me. His fragile, naive little trophy wife who could never leave him. Even the live chat was a stream of insults. Calling me the useless wife who couldn't even get her husband into bed. But the worst part? The way he acted when I found out. He grabbed my chin. Told me the whole disgusting betrayal was just "an act to keep our allies happy." He even let his mistress brag about it to every socialite in the city. My humiliation became their afternoon entertainment. And me—the good wife who washed the blood from his shirts, the woman he decided was too weak to survive without him—I had to smile at family dinners. He didn't know. When he crushed my loyalty like trash under his heel, I had already started making my move. He thought this was his game to win. His hostile takeover. But when the hammer clicks back, Marcello will understand. His "sweet little wife who only knows how to paint" is the one holding the blade to the entire North American underworld.

Graham always believed I was too independent, that I didn't love him enough. So when my best friend cried and said, "I need you," he chose her. Even when someone shattered my right hand in a parking lot and I called him twice for help, he never answered. I spent the next three years away from Chicago, changed all my contact information, and left him in the past. When we met again, he stood in the ER hallway, his eyes reddening as he watched my right hand hold a needle holder steady once more. But he understood far too late. It wasn't that I didn't need love. I just no longer needed someone who took my strength for granted.

My boyfriend, Don Alessandro Moretti, wanted a Donna who never got jealous. Whenever I disobeyed, he used silence to teach me my place. When he started taking his childhood sweetheart, Lucia,everywhere on his arm, I confronted him. He froze me out for a week. At one family dinner, Alessandro seated Lucia at his right hand, the place meant for his future wife. When I objected, he shut me out for two weeks. “Lucia and I are only friends. I love you, Eva.”He told me afterward. “But a Donna must be above petty jealousy.” Every time, I remembered the man I had fallen in love with and apologized first. But this time, two muggers cornered me in a parking lot. Still punishing me, Alessandro declined my call. During the twenty minutes I spent alone at the police station, I finally understood something. There was no future in twisting myself into the woman someone else wanted. I opened the offer from a leading research institute in Zurich wanted me to direct its five-year neuroprosthetics program and signed it. Alessandro thought my silence meant his lesson had finally worked. He didn’t know I had stopped trying to become the woman he wanted. I was leaving in seven days, and choosing my own life.