Plot Twists Fantasy Short Stories & Novels

I spent five years beside Kaelan, heir to the Elf King, and bore him a son, yet he never once acknowledged me in public. He said that when he became Elf King, he would give us the highest standing there was. Instead, at the Elven Assembly, he announced that another woman was his fiancée, then personally handed her our son's life-saving elixir to use as a facial treatment. Later I took my child away to the border, and he was finally willing to acknowledge us. But the child who used to run after him calling him Dad no longer needed a father.

Everyone at the Golden Crown Court knew I was the Dragon King's youngest, most beloved daughter. A childhood injury had left my dragon breath — the power inside me — unstable. Every seven days, I needed someone to help steady it. But my three childhood friends had stayed by my side for more than a decade: Lucas Ashford, commander of the dragon knights; Darian Stormwell, my father's personal guard; and Silas Wintermere, a dragon priest. They'd sworn before my father that they would always take care of me. Then everything changed. On her first day at court, Kassan Blackthorn, a black dragon, defeated three of our dragon knights. Lucas was impressed. He called her a true dragon warrior. He forgot his promise to practice sword fighting with me and spent the next several days following her around, eager to please. Darian said Lucas was like a sailor under a siren's spell. "He's not worth getting upset over," he told me. A few days later, Darian missed his turn to help regulate my dragon breath, too. Pain swept through me, burning hot one moment and freezing cold the next. Just before I passed out, Silas burst through my door and gathered me into his arms. Holding me tight, he said, "Evelyn, whatever happens, I'll always be here for you." But three days later, I watched him fasten around Kassan's wrist the very dragon crystal bracelet I'd wanted for myself. He gave her the same tender smile I knew so well. That was when I realized I had nothing left. So I knocked on my father's study door and told him I wanted to go north and marry Derek Frostborne, chief of the frost dragons.

To keep the peace between humans and shifters, those chosen by the Oracle are forced to mate with their bound partners. And me? I was forced to be the shared mate of twin black dragons. Every night, I brewed two glasses of moon-wine to help them sleep. The older brother, Kaelen, was cold. But when he took his glass, his scalding fingertips would brush my wrist in a silent promise, and he’d murmur a soft thanks. But the younger one, Cassian? A vicious temper. He’d smash the glass, hurl insults, and crush me with the weight of his dragon aura. I had been lying to myself. Walking on eggshells. Desperately keeping a fragile peace. Until a fellow apothecary told me the truth. She hesitated, then said: "He treats you like dirt. The other one is gentle. Why do they both get the same precious moon-wine? How is that fair to the one who actually cares?" I thought about it all day. She was right. Late that night, I left the apothecary in a sheer silk robe, carrying only one glass of moon-wine.

My fated mate shut me out of our bond for the ninety-ninth time just as the last spark of dragonfire inside me began to die. I walked into the Oath Hall of Obsidian Keep alone. Black stone stretched beneath my feet, cold enough to bite through my slippers, and every step made the cracked channels around my dragon core grind deeper into my chest. “I’m here to renounce the Obsidian Court and dissolve my life-bond with the Dragon Lord.” The clerk took in my bloodless face and lowered his voice. “Lady Ashton, once I set the seal, the Court will no longer be required to protect you. Are you certain?” My dragonfire had been unstable since birth, leaving me weaker than most dragonkin. When I was ten, my father adopted Cecilia. She had a gift for explaining every disaster in the gentlest possible voice until everyone believed I was the jealous sister who couldn’t stand to share. My parents hadn’t always been unloving. They had simply forgotten how to tell the difference between the daughter who was crying and the daughter who was lying. Cassian and I had been fated for years, yet he had never crowned me his Dragon Queen. He rarely took me to Court gatherings. Most of Obsidian Keep didn’t even know I was his mate. “That’s all right.” I swallowed the taste of blood and kept my voice steady. “I’ll be dead in three days.”

At eight, I swallowed the Tear of the Abyss, hidden in the holy font by my grandmother. After that, my skin was like pearl. It would never age. She called it a curse. Left by the Sea God. Every year, on the Night of the Tides, someone had to prove they truly wanted me to stay—press a Golden Scale to my heart. Or the scales would tear through my skin. My legs would fuse into a tail. The tide would drag me back to the abyss before dawn—a mermaid, trapped beneath the waves forever. Before she died, Grandmother left three Golden Scales. She gave them to my fiancé Alaric, my brother Caspian, and my childhood friend, Crown Prince Lucian. Their promises were so easy. "Just a scale? We'd get you the stars if you asked." But on the Night of the Tides, I saw all three. Pinned to a brooch on Evelina, the orphan from the Sanctum. They said she'd suffered, never known love. The scales would soothe her "fragile soul." But me? A princess didn't need trinkets to know I was loved. She danced. "I'm the luckiest girl in the empire." I pushed through the crowd. I just needed one. Alaric grabbed my wrist. "Haven't I given you everything? Don't be selfish now." Caspian shot me a look. "Let the artist finish, then you can have them." I showed them my hand. Sharp scales were already breaking through the skin. Lucian touched them. Laughed. "Illusion magic? Seraphina, your pranks are getting old." They escorted her to the throne. In their eyes, my life-or-death curse was just a pathetic play for attention. The blood moon was setting. T he gills behind my ears tore through my flesh. Blinding agony. I finally understood. I was meant for the sea. The water is cold. But at least I won't have to beg to stay anymore.

My family was the most famous line of witches at the royal court. My sister, Lilith Seyler, was famous for her lofty principles. I was the only one who knew she was a complete fraud. When the royal marriage decree arrived at House Seyler, she shut herself in her prayer room out in the woods and refused to come out. "Duke Edmund, your wealth and your power are dust to me. A proposal from a duke is no different than a proposal from a farmhand." Then she laid out three conditions for Duke Edmund. The Duke was to build a prayer room on his estate, since she needed quiet meditation and practice with the elements to keep her magic stable. Before the wedding, the Duke was to wash in mountain spring water, burn dragon's-breath incense for three straight days, and abstain from meat and strong liquor so he could come to her purified. And the Duke was to agree not to share her bed for three years, both to protect the source of her magic and to keep her perfectly focused and clear-headed for her studies. Duke Edmund Ashbourne gave a furious laugh. "I think I have come to the wrong place. Is this House Seyler or a convent? "If no one accepts this decree today, House Seyler is defying the King, and every last one of you will answer for it!" My father, Alistair Seyler, dropped to his knees in terror and begged Edmund for mercy. But no matter how my father and my stepmother, Cordelia Seyler, pleaded, my sister would not bend. She would take the decree only if the Duke agreed to her terms. "Duke Edmund, everything that happens in time and space is already decided. Two people with no destiny between them are meant to pass each other by. Why force me to say yes?" The Duke turned to leave in a rage, ready to bring the King's punishment down on House Seyler. I huddled in the corner, took a deep breath, rushed forward, and dropped to my knees. "I am Rowena Seyler, the second daughter of House Seyler. I will accept the decree in my sister's place!"

The night I died, my whole family was busy celebrating my twin sister Elena's eighteenth birthday. Everyone thought Elena was going to die the next day. We're elves. My father worked as a clan guardian, and after Mom gave birth to Elena and me as twins, she stopped working altogether. We should have been a happy family. But from the moment we were born, Elena and I were bound by a witch's curse. Because Elena came into the world one minute before me, she took the full weight of it onto herself. She was never supposed to live past eighteen. From the day we were born, Elena was the family's treasure. Mom and Dad treated me like I owed her something. New toys went to her first. New dresses were always her pick. Every night, Mom would sit in Elena's room for at least an hour before she'd turn off the light. I always fell asleep alone. One night I had a nightmare and ran barefoot to find Mom. She was holding Elena and didn't even look up. "Go back to bed. Stop making a fuss." I kept telling myself: she's dying, of course they're kind to her. But every time I let something go, that splinter in my chest pushed a little deeper. Then the day the curse was supposed to take effect finally came, and naturally, that was the day my stomach cramped so badly I could barely stand. Mom and Dad didn't hesitate. They shoved me into the cellar and locked it from outside. I crouched on the stone floor with the smell of mildew everywhere and knocked on the door over and over. "Mom... Dad... my stomach really hurts, I can't even stand up... let me out, please..." One sentence came back through the door. "Your sister is dying tonight! Can you just give us one day? One day!" "But... Mom... I'm scared..." Nobody answered after that. The cellar went quiet. My eyelids grew heavy. My last thought was: if I were the one dying of a curse, would they come hold me too.

When my sister and I were born, a prophet foretold that my sister would fall into a deep depression because I was more gifted than she was. On the day of the Fire Dragon Clan's Trial, she would throw herself into the frozen lake and never resurface. To protect her, my parents locked me in the freezing chamber on the day of the Trial. I knelt and begged them until my knees bled. My mother shoved me inside and sealed the door from the outside with a barrier. "You know your sister will die because of you, and you still insist on taking the Trial? How is that anything but trying to get her killed?" The chamber had already dropped to a hundred and twelve degrees below zero, yet I was wearing nothing but a short-sleeved shirt. I threw myself against the barrier, desperate to break out. "Mother, it's freezing in here! Please let me out!" "You're a fire dragon. A little cold can't hurt you. Who are you trying to fool?" My mother's voice was edged with impatience. "The barrier blocks your magic, but we didn't even turn on the refrigeration system. Your sister will be safe soon. Can't you think of her for once?" The sound of their wingbeats faded. My scales cracked from the cold, and blood dripped onto the floor. The barrier had sealed away my magic, and the chill quickly sank deep into my bones. I knelt on the floor as my body stiffened, inch by inch.

Everyone thought my sister, Nyssa, was the cursed one, except me. I knew that on my eighteenth birthday, Death would come to claim me for the Underworld. I was the Dark Elf Death had chosen. But to protect my sister, my family chose to sacrifice me. My parents abandoned me, my kin reviled me, and Caelum, the elven prince I had loved for centuries, chose to stand by Nyssa's side. They said I was a harbinger of disaster. They told me to offer Nyssa my blessing. Little did they know, they were pushing Death's true acolyte toward her awakening. When the Night of the Shattered Moon arrived, I finally met my fate. I died in the mortal realm and was reborn as the Underworld's new emissary. And those who once hurt me would come to pray for my forgiveness, trapped in the eternal punishment I had wrought. I was no longer a girl who waited for love.

I was once the Pythia, an oracle of Apollo. After marrying the late king, I became known as the Oracle Priestess. When my husband died in battle, I faked my death and returned to the temple. From then on, I devoted myself to protecting the capital with the gods' blessing. Then one day, they brought my daughter's body into the temple. She was covered in raw, unhealed wounds, and her eyes were still open. The attendants tossed her body, wrapped in nothing but a straw mat, onto the floor. Then they stood nearby whispering. "Poor princess. The king cared more about the Rose of Highcourt than his own sister. He let her suffer until her wounds became infected and she died in agony. "King Theron was the one who sent her to the beastmen for a marriage alliance. Duke Charles was supposed to marry Princess Callista, but he later fell for Naia instead." So that was what had happened. While I was hidden away in this temple protecting Ostan, my son had turned his back on his sister for another woman. He let Naia take Callista's place, then sent his sister to live among savages. Callista survived the beastmen and everything they did to her. When they were finally defeated, she must have thought she could come home and put it all behind her. But Naia still wouldn't leave her alone. She bullied Callista every chance she got. Then she framed Callista for plotting to hurt someone, and Theron had her thrown into the dungeon. As I held my daughter's body, I couldn't bear to imagine what she had gone through in that dark, waterlogged dungeon, where prisoners were interrogated on the upper level and executed below. A corrupt kingdom like this didn't deserve the gods' protection. I begged the gods to forgive me. If this was how they treated my daughter, then I no longer cared what happened to this country.

Tonight was the night I was to be invested as Commander of the Dragon Rider Corps. It was also my sister's coming-of-age ceremony. But my mother was afraid my investiture would steal my sister's spotlight. So she had my brother lock me in the basement with anti-magic chains. They said they'd make it up to me after Lina's celebration was over. They didn't know that dragon hunters broke in and carved out my heart. I used the last of my dragon flame to send a mind-link plea to my blood kin. My brother's voice finally came through. "Can't you just let Lina have one happy night?" He was busy placing the coming-of-age crown on my sister's head, and with his own hands, he snuffed out my mind-link to them. Later, they thought I was sulking and refusing to leave the basement. They didn't know I was already dead. I was never coming out.

The first time my boyfriend, Jason Calloway, brought me to meet his friends, I wore a scarf to hide the hickeys he'd left the night before. Halfway through dinner, his only female friend suddenly yanked my scarf off. "No wonder you're wearing a scarf in this heat, putting on airs. We're all adults here. What haven't we seen? Looks like you and Jason had quite the wild night..." Jason knew how easily I got embarrassed and quickly tried to cut her off. But she pulled down her own collar instead. "See this bite mark? Jason did it. I didn't even bother putting ointment on it afterward. I just left it out in the open, telling everyone Jason's my little lapdog. That's how a woman earns her place!" Jason frowned, his gaze fixed on the pale, full swell of Vivian Hale's chest, then pulled her hand away, his expression darkening. "There are people here! Put your clothes back!" Then he turned to me. "That's just how my friends are, no filter. Have a few drinks with us and you'll warm up to them." I watched his hand pressing Vivian's collar closed and let out a cold laugh, pushing my chair back from the table. "I'll pass on the drinks. If you enjoy being some other woman's lapdog, don't let me stop you." We Elves never date dogs.

"Today is supposed to be a good day. We're choosing Wendy's dowry. Stop standing there bringing bad luck down on us!" My mother pulled my sister back in disgust, afraid the blood I had coughed onto the floor would splash the silver-bound chest. When a forest elf girl is born, her family plants a bonded tree for her, a tree that lives and dies with its owner. When a daughter marries, her eldest brother takes the old branches the tree has dropped on its own and builds her a dowry chest, a sign symbolizing a lifelong covenant of love and kinship. The chest is filled with gowns and with whatever the family gives her, and the larger the chest, the deeper the blessing. My brother cut my tree down and damaged its roots as well. "Wendy's tree is too thin and weak. It isn't worthy of the Royal Court. I had no choice but to saw yours into boards and put together a respectable chest for her." My sister stroked the silver-bound chest made from my ancient tree like a highborn princess. The whole family gathered around her to pick out what would go inside, as though they had forgotten that I was a bride that day too. My voice shook. "Then what about me?" My mother looked at me shaking there, and her face filled with disgust. "You insist on marrying that short-lived human. A wicker basket is dowry enough for you." Only in that moment did I understand that to them my life mattered less than Wendy's dignity. So I no longer had to treat them as family.

The light elf royal family had 12 sons before finally welcoming a daughter: me. On the day I was born, the World Tree bloomed again after standing withered for 100 years. Lucia, the High Priestess, announced that I was the only elf of my generation who could hear the Goddess's voice. So my father, the king, gave me the right to choose the heir to the throne. At my coming-of-age ceremony, I gave the heir's mark to Salvador, the brother who loved me most. Then he fell in love with Evelyn, a dark elf. Light elves and dark elves had been enemies for generations, and our kingdom forbade marriage between the two peoples. I was the one who talked my father and the council into allowing the match. But the day after the wedding, Evelyn shackled me with enchanted ashwood chains. “Tomorrow I'm handing you over to Morvane, the dark elf lord. Once he has a light elf princess, he can cross the border whenever he likes. “In return, he'll give me three crystal mines. With those, I can help Salvador rule over the light elves.” I couldn't help but scoff at the smug look on her face. She thought Salvador had earned his vast territories and his position as the heir to the throne through his own strength. What she didn't know was that he had them because I'd chosen him. I'd even fought for her right to live in light elf lands. I clenched my fists, and a crack split the chains. “As the princess of the light elves, I'm taking back everything I've given you both.” She wanted to throw me out? Fine. I'd make sure she lost her place as the crown prince's wife.

I am the Oracle, the High Priestess who connects the divine realm to the mortal world. My daughter, however, was born with only a trace of divine power, leaving her little different from an ordinary human. I brought four orphans back from the beastman world and raised them myself. I gave them only one condition: protect my daughter from harm. For years, her four brothers shielded her, leaving her free to be as willful as she liked. Then, on the day of her coming-of-age rite, her prayer reached me. "Mother, my brothers are going to sacrifice me so Daisy can receive the Goddess's protection." By the time I got there, my daughter was bound to the altar. My four sons were busy preparing the altar. Daisy preened at their side. I was about to begin the chant that would punish them. Christopher, the serpent, pulled Daisy close and wrapped a protective arm around her. Gardner, the polar bear, talked back to me for the first time. "Mother, our little sister hurt Daisy first. "We only meant to frighten her. "The rite only takes away her ability to speak with the Goddess. She is useless anyway. She may as well be ordinary." I looked at the ingrates I had personally raised and scoffed. They had forgotten something. Every skill, every power, every title they held had come from me. I had made them. I could unmake them just as easily.

At my coming-of-age ceremony, I failed to shift. I was the heir to the Silver Serpent tribe, but all I could grow were a few ugly scales. My fiancé and my best friend stepped in front of me and roared at the crowd. "Shut up, all of you! Anyone who dares mock the heir is making an enemy of us!" While I was still downcast over my failure to shift, I overheard my best friend complaining to my fiancé that someone with inferior blood like mine had no right to hold on to the position of heir. She promised to help him take my place. Before long, rumors swept through the tribe that I had betrayed the Beast God and was nothing but a lowly lizard. My fiancé tied me to a stake in the ceremonial square and raised a torch to burn me alive. No one knew that the fire wouldn't take my life. Instead, it would burn away the final shackle that had sealed my superior bloodline.

My best friend, Emily Waters, was a born social butterfly. After my childhood friend, Lucas Mercer, got to know her, he no longer wanted to practice magic with me. He thought I was dull and awkward, always a beat behind in everything. Whenever the three of us ate together, the two of them would run off to play skyball and tell me to find them at the field when I was done. At diving practice, I couldn't keep up with them. Halfway through, my spell failed, and I almost drowned. Only when I called for help did I realize they'd already made it back to shore. Finally, there was the day we filled out our academy applications together. I was still going through the list when Lucas spoke up. "You're too slow. I've gotta go help Emily grab floor seats for the traveling circus, so I'm heading out. Bye-bye. "Oh, right. We're both choosing Aldridge, the best elemental magic academy there is. Don't pick the wrong one, you little dummy." Emily giggled. "Don't talk about my Wendy like that. She's so slow, there's no way she'd pick the wrong one." They were laughing so hard that they drowned out my voice. I mumbled, "You'll never have to wait for me again." I had applied to Starglow Academy of Potions, a school devoted to potion-making. Only the very best potion makers could apply, and for our safety, the academy was cut off from the rest of the world.

I was an elf with powerful healing magic. While I was restoring the ancient sacred tree, I found a wish-granting lamp. My younger sister, Ilona Ashwood, had always been sickly, so the lamp became the surest way to protect her. When Ilona got scratched by a branch, our mother, Grace Ashwood, had me wish for the wound to heal right away. When Ilona sprained her ankle jumping around like a brat, she demanded that I wish for a body that could never be hurt again. Little by little, their demands grew. A strong body. A beautiful face. Endless wealth. Even power... What they didn't know was that the lamp had bound itself to me. I paid for every wish with my life force. The bigger the wish, the more it cost. When Ilona wanted to become Queen of the Elves, I had no strength left. I clutched the front of Mother's dress and begged, "Mother, my body can't take another wish." Mother's face went cold. She shoved me away hard, and a dead branch cut my forehead. Mother acted as if she hadn't even seen it. "You're the most powerful healer among the elves. You can heal yourself!" When I tried to make the wish with the last of my strength, the lamp shattered. Mother kicked me square in the chest. "Lucia Ashwood, you are so selfish! You actually destroyed the lamp? Go down to the cell and fix it! You're not coming out until you're willing to!" What Mother didn't know was that I was just like that broken lamp. My life was nearly over. And if the lamp was destroyed, every wish it had ever granted would be undone...

For generations, the women of House Silvermoon have carried a unique blessing. Our blood ensures high fertility. More importantly, it purifies the lineage of those we bind with. Because of this, the moment a daughter of our house comes of age, she becomes the most coveted prize in the realm. In my past life, my older sister, Clara, looked down on the brutal, cold-blooded dragon shifters. Her heart was set on the elegant Elven Prince. She fully believed she would rule the Nightwood at his side. She got her wish. And I was readily married off to the Dragon Prince, Kail, in her stead. No one expected that within a year, I would give birth to a pure-blood dragon—the first sole heir the Dragon Clan had seen in centuries. Overjoyed, Kail crowned me his only Queen the day he ascended the throne. Under his rule, the dragons conquered the continent. My position was secured, and I enjoyed endless wealth and absolute power. Meanwhile, Clara discovered the grim reality of the elven court. The prince was a notorious womanizer. Clara was merely an insignificant consort, drowning in tears while she watched the entire realm bow at my feet. Jealousy ate her alive. During a family gala, she lured me to the edge of a cliff and pushed me into the abyss. But when I opened my eyes again... the dragon bridal envoy was already at our gates. And Clara, without a single moment of hesitation, accepted the proposal. I knew instantly—she had been reborn, too. What she doesn't know, however, is that becoming the Dragon Prince’s bride is the easy part. Winning his heart? Surviving long enough to bear his child? That is next to impossible.

I'm just a regular human being, and yet I've ended up signing a soul-bond contract with Erik Pendragon, the Frost Dragon King. Due to my lowly status, Erik refuses to let me attend the festival that we're supposed to show up at. So far, I've organized 18 grand festivals for Erik, and yet I'm forced to hide in the shadows. But somehow, Erik agrees to let me attend the 19th festival as the Dragon Queen. Of course, I'm excited to no end. I even go to great lengths to doll myself up, only to see Erik holding hands with another human woman named Clara Beech. The memory montage, which I've put hard work into making, has been replaced by a lovey-dovey montage featuring Erik and Clara. After Erik slips the ring that symbolizes the Dragon Queen's status onto Clara's finger, he turns to look at me in disdain. "Our Dragon Queen needs to be acknowledged by everyone in the clan. It's not like you have an official title anyway, Aurora. To top it off, Clara had received everyone's acknowledgement far earlier than you, too. From today onward, she shall replace you as the Dragon Queen." All the dragons in the lobby are waiting to watch me go ballistic before descending into hysterics. But I'm not mad in the slightest. In fact, I feel a little relieved. After all, there are three days left before my three-year contract with Erik gets dissolved.