Mga Maiikling Kuwento at Nobelang Melodramatic Defy Fate

The day I went to meet my online boyfriend, Liam Hayes, in person, two of them showed up. One walked past me with my best friend holding his arm. "Weren't you supposed to meet someone else today? Why did you come to spend time with me instead?" "No one important. I didn’t feel like going." The other kept sending messages to my phone: "I'm sorry I'm late. Are you upset? Where are you? I don't see you." My fingertips went cold. I snapped a photo of the man from behind and sent it. "Is this you?" A brief silence followed before he replied with a selfie. The man in the photo wore the white shirt we'd agreed on. His face was the same, but his jawline was a little more defined than that of the man who had just walked past. The same street stretched out behind him. A banner outside one of the shops read, "Celebrating Five Years—Thank You for Your Support!" But that shop had only opened for the first time that morning.

Vivian Grant had changed. Everyone in Riverton’s elite social circle was talking about it. The notoriously spoiled heiress of the Grant family had gone from a shameless heartbreaker to a hopeless romantic. She used to drive her Porsche straight onto campus, shove a bouquet of roses into some handsome guy’s arms, and walk away without a second glance. Now, ignoring the cheers and teasing around her, she walked up to the campus heartthrob, politely held out her hand, and introduced herself. “Hi, Nathan Hayes. I’m Vivian Grant.” Once, on her twentieth birthday, she had made a wish. “This year, I’m going to sleep with every good-looking man in Riverton.” But now, she and Nathan had been together for four years without ever breaking up. Even their graduation photos looked like wedding pictures. She had once torn up their engagement agreement in public and stormed off, her heels striking the floor with every furious step. Now, the company she and Nathan had founded together was about to go public. Vivian was already planning to propose to him the night of the IPO. She had even bought the ring. A platinum band with their initials engraved on the inside. On the day the company went public, Vivian cooked dinner herself. She was terrible in the kitchen. Hot oil splattered across her hand, making her hiss in pain, but she still carried the dishes to the table with a smile. Her fingers brushed over the ring as she murmured softly, the satisfaction of finally setting everything right filling her voice. “Nathan, I’m going to make up for every regret you’ve ever had.” “From now on, there’ll be nothing left for us but happiness.” No one knew the truth. Vivian had been reborn.

I went to surprise my fiancé, Dante Rossi, in my wheelchair. But just as I reached his door, my phone rang. The caller was me, ten years in the future. "Don't go in. He's in there with another woman." "No way." She read back the text I had just typed and deleted. "If I could still dance, would you come home earlier?" My hand jerked. I hadn't sent those words to anyone. I lost my legs saving him, and I would never dance ballet again. The day of my amputation, Dante, a Boston mafia Don, knelt beside my hospital bed in tears and begged me to marry him. He swore that whenever I was in pain, he would be right there with me. He loves me. How could he change? But the woman on the phone started to cry. "Last night, I fell in the bathroom. When I called him, all he said was, 'Erin, how much longer are you going to make me feel guilty about your legs?'" I gripped the armrest. "And then what?" "I apologized. I begged him not to be mad." I stared at the empty fabric hanging where my legs used to be. I'm the one who fell. I'm the one who got hurt. So why am I the one saying sorry? Just then, Dante texted me, "Still busy. Be good and don't wait up." Through the glass wall of the shooting range, I watched him put his phone away. Then he leaned down and kissed the woman in his arms. She turned her head, and I forgot how to breathe. How can it be her?

I'm nine years old when I secretly contact my mom Lori Parker's family to get her out of the remote village. When my grandpa, Richard Parker, bursts into the cellar, he finds Mom chained by the neck, with a whip stained with dried, dark blood lying at her feet. Overwhelmed with rage, Grandpa beats my dad, Bruce Fraser, until he is almost dead, vomiting blood repeatedly. Dad is left paralyzed and bedridden for the rest of his life. Just before getting into the car, Mom cries and reaches out to me. "Amy, I'm taking you home!" My eyes sting as I clutch the hem of her clothes, but then memories of my past life come rushing back. Her family turns against her because she protects a bastard like me. She endures their contempt and humiliation and eventually dies of illness alone in a rented room. If she takes me with her, she will never forget this nightmare. I dig my nails into my palm and push her away. "Get lost! Dad only brought you into this family because he wanted a child. I never loved you!" The car door slams shut. I finally break down and run after it, tears streaming down my face. But I don't dare call out "Mom". I'm afraid that if she hears me, she'll turn back.

On the day of my marking ceremony, I arrived at the Moon Goddess altar clutching the silver crest meant for Blackridge's future Luna, only to find the place completely deserted. My mother was laughing so hard over the phone she could barely speak. "Selena, you actually went? We're all in Riverbend Valley with Leah." The video shifted. Leah was sitting by the fireplace in Kane's coat, with my father and my brother Rowan nearby. The moment Kane saw how red my face was from the snow, his smile faded. "Where's your cloak?" He turned and ordered a guard to go get me before looking back at the screen. "Selena, I just wanted to know whether you'd still choose me if fate hadn't already chosen for us." "So you tricked me into coming here alone just to test me?" Laughter broke out again on the other end of the call. Kane's voice dropped. "I was never going to choose anyone else. I just wanted to hear you say, for once, that you wanted me too." They had all known I would cross the snow to get there. Not one of them had stopped to think that the whole thing might humiliate me. I looked down and unclasped the silver crest that marked me as Blackridge's future Luna. "Fine." The next day, I canceled the marking ceremony, resigned from every position I held in Silverpine, and left both packs behind. At first, they all thought I was simply angry. It took them much longer to understand that this time, I was done with all of them.

Cedric Thorne, Alpha of the Crescent Moon pack, had a nightmare. In the dream, at the full moon ceremony, he slept with an Omega he'd rescued. In the dream, I was going to break our mate bond and lead the werewolves from my pack back to my own territory. When Cedric woke up, he held me tight and swore he would never betray me. After that, he couldn't get enough of me. He wanted me several times a night. And every time he climaxed, he'd grip my waist and make me repeat the same words. "Cedric, I love you." Whenever I left the castle to patrol, he kept checking where I was through the mate bond. He couldn't stand to have me out of his sight. It made him feel insecure. I thought he was just afraid of losing me, and that was why he was so possessive. Then, at this year's full moon ceremony, the Omega he'd rescued went into heat. In front of the whole pack, Cedric picked her up and headed for our bedroom. I grabbed his arm and begged him not to go, but he shook me off. "Her heat could kill her. I can't let another male touch her!" So I had to lead the ceremony alone. Because of the mate bond, I could feel everything Cedric felt. I felt the low growl he let out when he climaxed, and the thrill that ran through every part of him. The whole pack heard them too. One by one, they lowered their heads. When the ceremony was over, I headed for the bedroom. Elena Marsh sat astride Cedric's lap, wearing the robe that marked me as Luna. And my mate was kissing her like he couldn't get enough.

For six months, I pick through trash to scrape together enough money to buy Mom a beautiful dress for her birthday. I can't wait to give it to her. But the moment I hand her the dress, her gentle smile vanishes. She screams, shoves me to the floor, and grabs a chair. She brings it down on me again and again. "Did that monster put you up to this? Did he tell you to give me this dress just to hurt me? You've got his blood in your veins! I should've known you'd turn on me!" She beats me until I'm barely breathing, then runs out of the house, leaving me alone on the cold floor. As my vision blurs, a book suddenly opens before my eyes. That's when I learn the truth. I'm the tragic male lead in a dark novel. The story has that monster force himself on Mom just to give me a miserable childhood. I'm the reason her whole life was ruined. I smile and reach toward the glowing pages with a bloodied hand. I'll save Mom, even if it means I was never born.

"Sienna, he looks so pitiful." In my last life, I listened to my younger sister and chose the black fox who hadn't even taken human form as my fiancé. I poured everything I had into helping him take human form, but he carved out my inner core and presented it to my sister to curry her favor. When I lived again, at the mate-selection ceremony, my sister once more pointed pitifully at the black fox. In front of everyone, I chose the four-tailed white fox she wanted most. Then I "gifted" the black fox to her.

A man by the name of Michael Burke shows up one day. He gathers four of us who had grown up in the orphanage and introduces himself as the secretary to John Ferguson, the richest man in town. According to him, John's real son had been mistakenly switched as a baby 20 years ago. Anyone who can prove that he's the long-lost son will get to inherit the Ferguson family's entire billion-dollar fortune. The first time around, Luke Carter, ever the manipulative schemer, tricks me into handing over the locket I've had since arriving at the orphanage. He uses it to prove his identity to the Fergusons, but they end up ripping him into pieces. "You're a fake!" Somehow, the four of us are reborn after that. This time, Simon Davis, whose friendship was superficial at best, gets a tattoo of my birthmark and uses that to claim that he's the Fergusons' long-lost son. They end up skinning him alive. "We know you're a fake!" Third time isn't the charm. Tom Egan, my archrival, takes out a loan and pays for plastic surgery to give himself a face that resembles Mrs. Ferguson's. However, the Fergusons throw him into a cage and let a ferocious dog maul him to death. In our fourth life, all three of them are too scared to usurp my identity. They immediately deliver me right to the Fergusons' doorstep. When everyone sees the DNA report that proves I'm the Fergusons' long-lost son, they think that their nightmare has finally ended. But on my very first night back home, the Fergusons push me off the balcony. "Anyone who tries to steal our son's identity deserves to die!" … My eyes open yet again. Michael is standing in front of us, smiling as he asks which one of us is the Fergusons' son. Everyone backs away in horror, insisting that it's not them. "But we've already looked into it. We know that the family's long-lost son grew up in this orphanage," Michael says, his voice strangely ominous.

A fortune teller once said that if I married before my older brother, he would spend the rest of his life alone. To save Arlo Pennick from that fate, my parents and my older sister, Lorna Pennick, did everything they could to tear my relationship apart. The night before my engagement party, they even abandoned me in the mountains. Four or five drunk men stumbled by and went out of their way to start trouble, rushing at me with fists and boots. I called home in tears and begged for help, but my parents never picked up. Lorna answered, only to tell me coldly, "Mom and Dad already decided—Arlo is marrying your fiancée now, and she's agreed to it. Arlo is this close to beating that prophecy. Can't you stop thinking about yourself for once? "You can play the victim all you want. I'm not coming to get you!" The line went dead, and I closed my eyes in despair. The next day, Lorna finally came to pick me up. On the drive back, she told me to behave and not make a scene once we got home. She expected me to snap at her, but I only nodded quietly. "Okay." Her expression softened a little. "Once Arlo is married, the prophecy will be broken. When that happens, Mom, Dad, and I will find you a better match." I said nothing. What she did not know was that to escape those drunk men, I had made a promise to the spirit of that mountain. In seven days, I would leave everything behind and bind myself to her as her husband.

I was born with a gift: the rare ability to bear powerful hybrid children for a vampire. I should have been cherished for it. Instead, my mother died young, her inheritance seized by my stepmother, my father's affection stolen by my stepsister. Only Ryan, heir to the vampire King, treated me with gentleness. When I was young, he fell for me at first sight and was secretly in love with me for two years. Later, at a gala, someone pushed me into a frozen lake. He was the one who pulled me out. He bent close, his eyes soft. “Marry me. Let me protect you.” I said yes without hesitation. Because no one had ever stood beside me so surely. I loved him with everything I had. When assassins struck at our wedding, I even stepped in front of the bullet meant for his heart. But after I dragged my weakened body through childbirth and gave him his child, he appeared before me with my stepsister Vicky in his arms. “You have no use to me anymore.” Ryan's eyes were cold and foreign. “The person I love has always been Vicky.” He had chosen me only for my bloodline, purer, better suited to produce an heir. Vicky smiled and drove the knife into my chest. Ryan stood to one side and watched me die. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the night Ryan proposed. Vicky was crying, begging to take my place and marry him instead. This time, I closed my eyes. “All right. I agree to the exchange.”

“Shawn, Ethan and Wendy are engaged. Stop trying to come between them. We’ve already booked your flight. Stay abroad for a few years, then come back after their wedding.” Shawn Yates looked at his parents’ faces, at the way they seemed so sure they were doing what was best for him, and realized he had been reborn. He had returned to the day his parents forced him to leave the country and give up Wendy Stone for good. In his previous life, his parents talked him into leaving, but he couldn’t accept it. He told Wendy again and again that he was the one she loved. He begged his parents to tell her the truth and stop letting his brother, Ethan Yates, take his place. All it did was make Wendy despise him even more. When a car accident left him close to death, she even told the nurse on the phone coldly, “What’s he trying to pull this time? Tell him to stop trying to ruin my wedding with Ethan.”

Three months after I died, Jack Carter became one of the youngest colonels in the United States Marine Corps. At the promotion ceremony, every person in the room stood up and applauded him. He had a war record, he had money, he had a house that looked out over the woods, and he had the kind of future everyone envied. But only I, already dead, knew that the one person he had truly wanted his whole life was never coming back. The year he turned eighteen, he rebuilt a beat-up old Ford and put the spare key in my hand. He said, "After prom, come find me. I will take you to California." I said yes. But that night I walked down the steps on another man's arm and told him, in front of everyone, that I had never loved him. He did not know that my family had forced that lie out of me. They used Jack's freedom and his future to threaten me. If I dared to leave with him, a forged felony statement would put him in prison and disqualify him from ever enlisting. So I chose to deceive him, and I watched him leave hating me. Later, in the service, he was bullied and framed, and he nearly lost everything. He believed a total stranger had saved him. He did not know that the person who tracked down the witnesses, paid the lawyers, and handed the evidence to the military was me, from the beginning. Later still, he went from a small-time punk out of the harbor district to a decorated officer. Meanwhile my family went bankrupt. I lost the house, the trust, the health coverage, and in the end I died alone in an apartment with a leaking roof. On the day I died, he was standing under the lights receiving a medal. On the screen, everyone was applauding him. On my side of the screen, I was holding the car key from the year I turned eighteen, the one we never used, and I stopped breathing. It took three months for my letters to reach him. Only then did he know. The cruelest words I ever said were said to protect his future. Every kindness in his life that he thought came from a stranger came f

On the cruise for our high school graduation trip, a woman who looked exactly like me appeared out of nowhere. "Hello, Vesper Monroe. I'm you, ten years from now." Her voice was clear and steady. Shock and joy hit me all at once. I quickly signed back, "You can talk now? No, wait. You mean ten years from now, I can talk? Who cured me? Was it Aiden Tyson?" She smiled and nodded. Happiness flooded through me, and I eagerly pressed her for more. "So, ten years from now, did I marry him? How did our life turn out?" "Very happy. Ten years from now, he cured your illness and gave you your life back. Not only did you marry him, but you also had a beautiful daughter. Your family is whole." I felt as if I'd fallen straight into a jar of honey. I ducked my head shyly. "So, should I confess to him now? Or should I wait for him to tell me how he feels?" The face before me suddenly turned cold. "No. What you need to do now is give up your college choice and get as far away from him as you can. "Even if it means staying mute for the rest of your life, you need to cut him off completely."

My wife booked plane tickets for the whole family to travel over the Thanksgiving holiday. On the way to the airport, I suddenly noticed that everyone had a number floating above their head. The number above my wife's head was 60 years. Above my parents' heads and mine, it showed only six hours. As I wondered what the numbers meant, I looked through the car window and noticed the driver in the car beside us had only six seconds left. 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... The moment the countdown reached zero, a speeding semi-truck slammed head-on into the car next to us. The car exploded into twisted metal, and debris flew everywhere right in front of my eyes. People around us screamed and cried for help, but I couldn't hear a thing. My whole body was trembling. Because six hours later, our flight was scheduled to take off.