Nouvelles After Death Face Slapping & Romans

After a century of war, the three races finally reached a fragile peace. The human kingdom, the vampire noble houses, and the wolf clans signed the Covenant of Three Realms. The Royal Court would stand above the races, and only a mixed-blood royal heir would rule all three realms. When my turn came,I chose Owen, Alpha of the Bloodmoon Pack. Our marriage ceremony took place on the Night of the Full Moon Oath. Owen’s foster sister, Nora, fled the Bloodmoon territory after the rite. She crossed beyond the pack’s borders and ran straight into a hunter’s silver trap laid in the forest. The silver tore through her wolf spirit. She died there before anyone could reach her. When Owen arrived, he did not rage. He simply carried her body back to the pack lands and performed the ancient wolf burial rites with his own hands. After that night, he continued to play the role of the perfect mate. But the night I gave birth to our hybrid child, he drove a blade through my throat, his eyes filled with hatred. His voice was filled with cold hatred. “If your bloodline weren’t the only one capable of producing a ruler for the three realms, I would never have married you.” “Nora would never have fled the pack lands. She would never have died in a hunter’s trap. My first child would still be alive.” Pain swallowed everything. When I opened my eyes again. I had returned to the day the king ordered me to choose between the vampire houses and the wolf clans.

Mom raises me and my brother, Cameron Joyner, by herself after she gets a divorce. Cameron was born with congenital asthma and has to take medication every day. Although I'm healthier, Mom treats me better than Cameron. She always says, "You're the apple of my eye, Cassie. I don't want you to feel troubled because of Cam." From the very beginning of my life, I've always been number one in Mom's heart. However, the year I turn 15, Cameron suddenly disappears. Mom completely changes after he goes missing.

A rival pack invaded, plunging our pack into the worst crisis we had ever faced. The witch, Morgana Vale, said that only a blood sacrifice could save the entire pack. So despite my anemia, I was dragged onto the altar. Morgana slit my wrist, and the moment my blood dripped onto the totem, the ritual began. When the bleeding got to be more than I could take, I tried to call it off, but my mother stopped me cold. "Sweetheart, hold on a little longer. You're the Alpha's daughter. Making a small sacrifice for the pack is only right. It's just a little blood. It won't kill you." I gritted my teeth and held on, my heart pounding like it would burst. The ritual lasted from morning until dusk, and my blood never stopped flowing. "Mom, I really can't take it anymore." My face was ghost-white, and my vision was starting to blur. But she just gave my bloodless face a cold glance. "Sacrificing for the pack is an honor. Being the Alpha's daughter doesn't mean you get to shirk your duty. I did not raise you to be selfish." By midnight, everything went black, and I collapsed on the altar. I'm sorry. I failed to do my duty. I'm sorry, Mother. I let you down.

The doctor said I had a hundred days left. I didn't want a miracle. I just wanted one real family portrait. One where I sat dead center, impossible to cut out. I searched through every album in the house. My sister, Yvonne Miller, had her professional glamor shots. My brother, Daxton Miller had his milestone baby portraits. My parents had their framed wedding photo. There wasn't a single picture of just me. I remembered our old family photo from primary school. Mom told me I blinked, so she creased the paper down the middle and folded my side back. After that, I was always placed on the far left or the far right. It made it easier to crop me out. I saved up and booked time at a downtown photo studio. I even bought a navy silk dress, the most expensive thing I had ever owned. The night before the shoot, Mom smoothed out the fabric, folded it carefully, and handed it to my sister. "Your sister has a dinner date tomorrow with a barrister," Mom said. "It’s a big deal. Let her borrow it first." Dad didn't even look up from his paper. "Your brother has his regional final tomorrow anyway. We’ll reschedule the shoot. Once you're feeling better, I'll take you back and we'll do ten portraits." "What if I don't get better?" I asked. Silence filled the room. Daxton kept mashing buttons on his controller in the lounge. Yvonne was in her bedroom, admiring herself in my dress. I folded the studio receipt and slipped it into my coat pocket. The next morning, I went to the studio alone. I sat straight on the wooden stool in the middle of the backdrop. "Should we wait for the rest of your family?" the photographer asked, adjusting his lens. "And give me a smile?" "No need to wait," I replied softly. "And no need to smile." No one would have to crop me out anyway.

My wife, Cassia, was a wood nymph. A cursed one. Forbidden to love mortals. But she fell for me anyway. Every time her heart fluttered for me, the gods struck her down with agony. She willingly endured that torture ninety-nine times just for a chance to be with me. Then, demons dragged me to Tartarus. Hellfire and whips became my sun and moon. Right as I was about to break, I remembered a prayer Cassia taught me—a desperate whisper to the gods. It finally worked. But instead of help, I heard Cassia talking to her patron goddess, Hecate. "Cassia, how could you bargain with the Furies? You let them drag Aiden to Tartarus!" Cassia's voice choked with desperate tears. "Adonis was supposed to suffer this fate. But he's a fragile mortal. This would destroy his soul! I had no choice if I wanted to save him." "Aiden is a child of prophecy. His soul is strong. The Fates watch over him. He'll survive." "Once I save Adonis, I can stay in the mortal realm forever. Then, I'll use my eternal life and all my love to repay the hell he's enduring for me." My heart shattered. As the monsters closed in on me, I stopped fighting. I gave up.

My dad always calls me a lazy bum. It is because I often fall asleep without warning. I sleep in class, while eating, and even while crossing the street. My homeroom teacher, Yvonne Smith, suggests that he take me to a hospital for an examination. But Dad scoffs and says, "He's just staying up all night playing on his phone." After that, he confiscates my phone and removes the lock from my bedroom door. Every time I get sleepy, he slaps me. I don't want to be hit, and I don't want to make Dad angry. So, I start pinching my thighs, pulling out my hair, and even rubbing hand sanitizer spray under my nose to stay awake. But whenever the overwhelming drowsiness hits, nothing can stop it. On the day of the final exams, Dad happens to be one of the invigilators. I bite my lip until it bleeds and silently beg myself inwardly, "Just this once, please stay awake." Still, I fail to fight off the sleepiness. Suddenly, someone flips over my desk. The chair tips with it, and I crash to the floor. My temple slams into the corner of the desk, and darkness instantly floods my vision. Dad stands over me, furious and disappointed. "Zach Davies, are you really so obsessed with sleeping that you don't even care about your final exams? If you're that lazy, then stay down there and keep sleeping!" I lie sprawled across my exam paper as my vision slowly fades away. Dad, I think I am going to sleep for a very long time…

My boss, Steven Swanson, traps me at the office by guilt-tripping me into staying loyal and makes me work my fingers to the bone. From the moment I joined, I knew that the company was on the brink of collapse. When a rival company tries to poach me with an offer of triple my salary, my first thought is that Steven even sold his own home just to ensure we always got our paychecks on time. So, with tears in my eyes, I push away the headhunter's contract, determined to help the company weather the storm. After three months of pulling all-nighters, I have a heart attack and die at my desk. As my consciousness fades, I overhear Steven chatting lightheartedly in the next room with someone else. "That fool was just so easy to exploit. All it took was a little talk about loyalty to keep him working around the clock. He'd probably never guess that I own the rival company, too."

On the day of our wedding, my vampire husband confessed that he had a severe emotional disorder. He could barely understand other people's feelings and had no idea how to respond to them. Because I had already fallen in love with him, I chose to accept it. I believed that if I gave him enough time, he would eventually learn how to love me. The day the vampire hunters attacked, I threw myself in front of a bullet meant for him. A bullet struck my arm, and the pain nearly brought me to my knees. Adrian Blackwood only glanced down at the carpet. "Go get that wound taken care of." He frowned. "Don't get blood everywhere." Every vampire in our circles knew my husband didn't love me. I had become the punchline everyone whispered about. But I never blamed him. I truly believed he simply wasn't capable of loving anyone. Until I finally got pregnant and went to surprise him with the news, only to hear his human blood servant laughing on the other side of his office door. "She actually believes you have an emotional disorder?" To my shock, Adrian laughed too. His voice was so gentle I hardly recognized it. "She loves me that much. Of course she believes it." "If it weren't for an heir, I never would have married her." I stood outside the door and looked down at my arm. The scar from the silver bullet was still there, jagged and ugly. There was no point in sharing this surprise anymore. I would take my baby and disappear from his world for good.

A priest has shown up at my first birthday party. He claims that I'm a cursed soul—that my presence will bring doom to those close to me, and my existence itself can snatch everyone's luck. The only way to counter this is to give me up to an orphanage and let me live a life of poverty and suffering. Without a family, I'll be able to overcome my fate as a cursed soul. Daddy has the priest cast out of our home immediately. Meanwhile, Mommy hugs me tightly. "My son is the luckiest boy in the whole wide world!" But everything has changed when my younger brother, Andy Lawson, has fallen off the 20th floor. His body is completely shattered from the fall. I can only stand by the window uneasily. Fear is evident in my eyes as I wave my hands with all my might. "It wasn't me! It really wasn't me!" The wind that day is very strong, but it can never drown out Mommy's cries. Daddy hoists me up and stuffs me into Andy's coffin. I keep latching onto the sides of the coffin to the point my fingers are all bloodied and trampled over. At the same time, I keep screaming for Mommy. Mommy stares at me blankly at first. But her hollow gaze is soon filled with hatred. "Why aren't you the one dead? That priest told us that you'll have to stay in the coffin for seven whole days and nights just to atone for your sins! Only then can Andy's soul rest in peace! "This is your fate and your sin, Adam!" The heavy lid slowly covers the coffin, soon sealing my hoarse cries and screams away. A long time later, a few voices ring out amid the sorrowful melody played by the organ. "Why is there a tiny gap in the coffin? Hurry up and nail it shut! We can't afford to have misfortune spread to us!" When the final nail is bolted onto the lid, I close my eyes. Mommy, Daddy, I'm no longer a cursed soul.

  I was born with a weak inner wolf. My parents, the Alpha and Luna, along with my older brother Caleb, treated me like glass growing up, terrified that something would happen to me. But everything changed after my adopted sister, Jessica, was diagnosed with the exact same illness. Their concern gradually shifted entirely to her. They even demanded that I give up the only healing serum capable of curing our condition so Jessica could have it. I refused. I got into a massive fight with my parents, demanding to know why they were so biased. Because of that, everyone decided I was cold-blooded, vicious, and had absolutely no sympathy for Jessica. The day before the injection was to be confirmed, Caleb strode into my hospital room. His handsome face was full of impatience and irritation. He glared down at me. "Jessica is only twenty. She has a gorgeous future ahead of her. Your wolf has been weak since birth. Even if you get the serum, how long can this broken body of yours actually hold on?" Just then, Jessica rushed into the room wearing a thin nightgown. She threw herself into Caleb’s arms, crying and asking if I was still refusing to give her the serum. Caleb gently stroked her blonde hair, murmuring, "Don't be scared. No one can take what I promised you." I gazed at him, my mind drifting back to the first time my illness flared up when we were pups. I was dying, and he was the one who carried me through a blizzard to get to the healers. Back then, he held my hand, eyes red, and swore that even if he had to tear his own wolf in half, he would keep me alive. Looking at his cold face now, I suddenly felt incredibly exhausted. I didn't want to fight anymore. I leaned back calmly against my pillows, looked right at him, and said, "I don't want the serum anymore."

I am the biggest female drug lord in Riverdale, who gets shot in the head during a crackdown operation. As soon as the news breaks, the entire internet celebrates. People even crowdfund to take over a giant screen in the city square to display my obituary photo. They say I filled Riverdale with drugs and single-handedly destroyed countless families. They accuse me of leaking operation routes, causing the deaths of my ex-husband's 13 anti-drug force teammates. Hundreds of thousands sign a petition demanding my ashes be crushed and turned into tiles for public restrooms. To calm the overwhelming public anger, my ex-husband, Tyler Lowell, who is now captain of the anti-drug force, decides to launch a public hearing across the internet to livestream my entire life of alleged crimes. On the day of the trial, people thronged the city square. "A woman like her deserves to be cut up into a thousand pieces! How many families are destroyed because of the drugs she sells?" "I hear she is ruthless. She would even stoop to making a three-year-old do her bidding. She is inhumane!" "She got so many anti-drug officers killed. I want to see her end up in hell!" Tyler presses the start button with a blank expression. The crowd's furious curses come crashing down like waves. It is as if they want to tear me apart and condemn me forever. But in the next second, what appears on the giant screen is me in a uniform, standing under the national flag and taking a solemn oath. In that instant, the entire square falls silent.

I was the princess of the Blood Moon pack, the little sister my Alpha brothers cherished. But that all changed when they brought home Lily, the human girl they adopted. They threw me in the dungeons for three days to “reflect.” My crime? Taking Lily into the forest and “accidentally” letting a rogue wolf attack her. I tried to explain, to tell them I was innocent. But my three brothers just looked at me with disgust and disappointment. “Aren't you just jealous that Lily’s getting our attention? Freya, when did you become so vicious?” Then, without a second thought, they severed our sibling mind link, cutting off my pleas for mercy. What they didn’t know was that the weakening wolfsbane in my cell had been swapped for lethal wolf's venom. Three days later, my oldest brother, Ethan, asked the butler, “Has Freya learned her lesson?” By then, I was already dead. My body was already starting to rot.

In the seventh year of holding down the Chicago arms trade for Matteo, he finally came back from the Mediterranean. The night the Five Families threw him his coronation ball, I put on my custom gown. I was ready to see the man I had waited seven years for. Right before my entrance, my cousin Vivienne barged into the dressing room. She did our books, and she snatched the head-table nameplate off my table. She looked at me with cold pity. "Camilla, don't embarrass yourself. The seat for the Don's wife was never meant for you." She slammed a yellowed betting slip from a Vegas underground bookmaker onto the table. The wager was a hundred grand. The name on the ticket was Matteo. The betting line had just one sentence: Let's see how many years the ruined Bellini princess will stay faithful to my old love letters. Vivienne told me the truth. He kept a stripper overseas years ago. His bastard daughter was almost five now. The Commission knew. His capos looked the other way. Even my own mother, living on his handouts, helped him keep it completely quiet. For seven years, he sent handwritten letters sealed with wax. Every single one went on and on about the Sicilian rain. He wrote about how much he missed me. He told me to keep the house safe. Just for those sweet words, I took bullets for him. I stayed by the bedside of the dying old Don until his last breath. I survived firefight after firefight. The entire underworld knew about this bet. I was the only fool in the dark. My eyes burned, and I laughed. Fine. I would walk right out of his empire, in front of every boss in America.

Having been an invisible presence at home for ten years, I watch Mom and Dad hand me the only life ring as the cruise ship sinks, while they vanish into the ocean depths. Christian Gunn, my distant brother, desperately pushes me toward the shore until his body is completely frozen stiff by the icy seawater. He flashes a smile of relief and says, "Mom, Dad, and I have always regretted bringing you back to the Gunn family. If we hadn't, Freya would still be by our side. If there's a next life, please don't bother our family ever again." I watch his complexion turn increasingly pale before he closes his eyes forever. I can hear a rescue boat roaring nearby, but I smile wryly and, without a second thought, toss away my life ring. I open my eyes to find myself back in time, before the family reunion. I then hear a solemn voice beside me. "You need to understand that joining the Northwest Weapon Initiative means losing all contact with the outside world for at least a decade, if not longer. You must consider this carefully before making a decision, Ms. Lister." I watch Mom, Dad, and Christian heading my way, then lower my head and sign the paper. "I have considered it carefully. I'm willing to join."

I've just gotten back from a business trip when my wife, Lisa Irwin, steps onto the windowsill. She looks at me, tears streaming down her face, and whispers, "I'm so sorry, honey." Then she jumps in front of me. Our three-month-old daughter, Ariah Conner, lies silent in her crib. She's not breathing, and her skin has turned a deep purple. Beside her, our nanny, Aunt Caitlin, lies unconscious with blood pooling from a head wound. The police tell me Lisa was sexually assaulted before she died, and Ariah suffocated. The security cameras were down. There was no sign of forced entry. In a single day, my whole world shatters. Every clue points to a phantom who doesn't exist. I spend five years hunting for answers. Yet even on my deathbed, I never catch the monster who ruined my life. As I close my eyes, one final thought haunts me. If I get another shot, I'll die before I let anything happen to Lisa and Ariah again. When I open my eyes, I'm back to the morning of the tragedy. I walk right out of my meeting and dial Lisa's number. "Don't open the door for anyone. Set up extra cameras around the house, and stay put until I get home!"

My cousin, Kaylee Langford, pushes me down the ski slope when there's an avalanche. My boyfriend, Atlas Ferguson, lifts her into his arms and leaves. He seems to have forgotten that I'm buried underneath the snow mountain. He leaves me stranded at the valley for seven days. He's furious when he finds me. "You should be glad nothing went wrong with Kaylee's arms. Otherwise, the only way you could atone would be to die on this mountain! Our wedding is canceled—we'll have it once you realize what you did wrong." He thinks I'll cry or kick up a fuss, but I merely nod and say, "Okay." He doesn't know that I've made a deal with the Moon Goddess. In six days, I'll be giving up the things that mean most to me—my love for Atlas and my memories of him. Once that happens, I'll forget everything about him and start afresh somewhere new. What does a wedding matter when the Ember Sloane who loved him is now dead?

While a killer was dismembering me, my father was busy throwing a coming-of-age party for my adopted younger sister. When I called him for help, all I heard on the other end of the line was his venomous voice. "What kind of act are you putting on this time? If you want to die, hurry up and do it! Just stay out of my sight!" The next day, Dad went back to the police station to investigate a dismemberment case that had shocked the entire city. He gathered every clue the killer had left behind. What he never once suspected was that the body being pieced back together belonged to the biological daughter he hated so much.

When our whole family saw the death timer for my sister will end on her sixteenth birthday, she became the most important person in the family. She suddenly took priority in everything, from food to dresses, and even bedtime stories. I felt for her, but I was also jealous that she was given everything. However, a day before her sixteenth birthday, my parents locked me up in the storeroom in fear that I would make a mess of things. I kept hammering the door, crying, "Mom, let me out! I'm having a fever, and my head hurts!" Mom didn't believe me. "Just stop! Your sister will die in just a day, and you're playing sick to gain our sympathy?! Don't you understand anything?!" "No…" I tried my best to argue, only to hear my parents comforting my sister. Eventually, my consciousness blurred, and I heard nothing…

I died in the year my husband hated me most. Unable to endure his endless silent treatment any longer, I swallowed a bottle of pills and ended my life. At the crematorium, watching the flames roar inside the furnace, he allowed himself a rare smile. “Someone as vile as her doesn’t deserve to be laid to rest whole.” So when the staff handed him the urn, he flipped it over. My ashes scattered across the floor in an instant. All this time, he had believed I was responsible for the death of his first love. That belief was why he had schemed and plotted for years, all for this precise moment of final desecration. When it was over, he stepped over my ashes and walked away without looking back. Though not long after that, he fell to his knees and begged the crematorium to give my ashes back to him.

I was severely allergic to shrimp. Even touching the broth could make it hard for me to breathe. They used to treat me like a fragile little princess no one could touch. So there was never seafood at home, and even relatives were reminded before each family gathering. Then my little sister was born, and everything changed. Shrimp became her favorite food. She kept asking Mom to make it for her. That was the first time Mom snapped at me. "Can't you just stay away from it? Do you really have to make your sister unhappy?" Dad only shut the kitchen door and handed me a mask. But on the day of Dad's promotion dinner, I accidentally ate shrimp hidden inside a puff pastry. My throat tightened. I clutched my neck and ran to Mom for help, my face turning purple. But Mom flung my hand away, her voice cold as ice. "Today is an important day for your father. What stunt are you trying to pull now? "Do you think everyone has to revolve around you? Go back to your room!" She shoved me into my bedroom, slammed the door, and locked it. I did not even have the strength to call for help. All I could hear was the sound of people outside clinking glasses and offering congratulations, while my fingernails scraped bloody marks into the door.