Historias cortas y novelas de Independence Countdown

In the Blackthorn Pack, every wolf born into an Alpha bloodline received a moonstone after their first shift. At eighteen, during the Pack Recognition Ceremony, the Alpha set it into a ceremonial collar, marking their official place in the Pack. A week before my twin sister Sienna and I turned eighteen, my brother Rowan brought home our ceremonial collars. Sienna’s glittered with two moonstones. “Why does she have my moonstone?” I asked. Rowan shrugged. “Sienna wanted hers to look more special.” Then he handed me an old ceremonial collar pulled from the Pack vault. It was tarnished, with half the moonstone missing. Mother sighed. “You’re still being recognized as an Alpha’s daughter, Aria. Does the collar really matter that much?” All my life, I had been expected to give up one thing after another for Sienna. I thought the Recognition Ceremony would finally prove that I had a place in this Pack too. I was wrong. They took my moonstone and gave it to her. My phone vibrated with Moonridge University’s final admission deadline—the most prestigious university in the werewolf world. the most prestigious university in the werewolf world, nearly three thousands miles from my pack. This time, I pressed ACCEPT. They could celebrate Sienna as the daughter they wanted. I was done fighting for a place in a Pack that had never made room for me.

In my third year at the front as a military doctor, a bomb dropped from an aircraft struck our makeshift medical station. I ran desperately toward the military vehicle outside, trying to find my fiancé, Robert. Then I saw him barreling toward the medical station through the incoming fire. Tears immediately filled my eyes. But when he was barely fifteen feet away, he suddenly swerved and drove straight past me. He was heading toward Nora. He threw open the door, reached out, and pulled Nora from the ground into the vehicle before wrapping his arms tightly around her. He looked straight through me, even though I had been standing directly in his path only moments earlier. Someone shouted hoarsely, “Run! The second shell is coming—” The warning was swallowed by the explosion. Robert turned his head. Our eyes met. For the first time, I saw genuine fear in his eyes. The next moment, the shock wave hurled me through the air. When I slammed into the ground, the last thing I saw was a single tear sliding down the face of Lieutenant Robert, the hardened soldier known for never showing weakness. Yet his first instinct was still to step on the accelerator and drive Nora toward safety. As blood ran into my eyes and blurred my vision, memories from the past three years flashed through my mind. If I lived to see tomorrow’s sunrise, Robert could go his way, and I would go mine. Our paths would never cross again.

On my thirtieth birthday, our car crashed on the way home from a charity gala. Damian Moretti stepped over me—his girlfriend of six years, lying there with a fractured ankle—and carried Sofia DeLuca away because the cut on her palm had made her panic. He knew I was hurt worse. He chose her anyway. It was punishment for asking whether the two of them were getting too close. That night, while I sat alone in the ER, Sofia posted a photo with her face pressed against his shoulder. [Thank you to the man who always catches me when I fall.] Damian expected me to call, cry, and demand that he come back. That was how our fights always ended: he hurt me until I panicked, then rewarded me with affection once I apologized. This time, I liked Sofia’s post. Then I accepted an eighteen-month transfer to Paris. My flight left in seven days—on our sixth anniversary. Damian mistook my silence for surrender. He thought he had finally taught me to stop questioning him. So on the night I once believed he would propose, he put Sofia in a wedding dress, held out the ring I had waited six years for, and gave me one last chance to behave. He expected me to beg. Instead, I left my key on the table and headed for the airport. By the time Damian realized I wasn’t testing him, my plane had already taken off.

The old Don was killed in an ambush by a rival crew. At the mass, Vito, the new Don, stood at the very front of the church. I'd rushed back from a job and barely made it. There were only two spots left in the church. One was right next to the new Don. The seat for his wife. The other was at the very end of the guest line. I figured, without even thinking about it, that the spot beside him was mine. So I walked straight toward Vito. But he looked right past me. "Sofia." He lifted his chin, just slightly. "Come up." Around me, the family elders and the heads of the different crews started whispering. "The next Don's wife is a beautiful woman." "Look at those two. They just fit." Vito took the gilded crest plate from the altar and placed it in Sofia's hands. I turned around and walked to the very end of the line. Stood there. Didn't say a word. The entire service, he never once looked back at me. Even the small life growing inside me felt like a cruel joke right now. Maybe it was time to leave. Me and my unborn child.

I was a mermaid fostered within the Silverwood Pack. By the laws of my kin, on the day I came of age, I had to swallow a Tide Pearl fed to me by a male. Only then could I fully shed my tail and truly join the wolf pack, remaining on land. And whoever fed me the pearl would become my mate. Miss that window, and my legs would turn back into a tail, forcing me to return to the deep sea. Before my mother died, she left behind three Tide Pearls, entrusting them to the three wolf boys I grew up with—each desperate to become my mate. But just as I was about to come of age, a lone wolf mother named Chloe arrived at the pack with her young pup, Leo. Alpha Lucas, Beta Kane, and Gamma Aiden became convinced that Chloe was the widow of the wolf who had saved their lives, and they showered mother and son with care. They knew full well what the Tide Pearls meant to me—yet choice after choice, they handed those pearls over to Chloe and her child, one by one. Their protection of Chloe was built on my sacrifice. With every pearl gone, I had no reason left to stay in the pack. At midnight on my coming-of-age day, the tide surged over the cliffs. I returned to the sea.

My stepsister, Chloe, wanted to test the loyalty of my childhood sweetheart. So she drugged him with a lust potion. Then she threw him in my room. I couldn't watch him suffer. He was spiraling into a bloodlust. For a vampire, that's a death sentence. So I gave him the only cure. Myself. When Chloe found us, she fled in a jealous rage. She married a cursed, brutal king—the Lord of Eternal Night. And he killed her. Julian and I were blood-bound, but he began to hate me. He ignored me for a century. Then a rival clan ambushed us. He shielded me with his body. He burned to ash to save my life. Before he faded, he gave me one last look. "If I could do it all over again, Elena," he whispered, "I never would have needed saving." My world shattered. Darkness took me. I opened my eyes. I was back in Julian's room. On the night it all went wrong.

I am the Luna of the Silver Moon Pack. On the day I gave birth, I drank the birthing tonic that Elena, our pack healer, had brought me. My wolf convulsed violently, and the moment I delivered my pup, I fell into a coma. When I woke again, I was bound by thick silver chains, trapped for five years in a lightless forest prison. It wasn't until Caleb, the Alpha of the Silver River Pack, was hunting down a rogue that he caught my scent by chance and freed me. I dragged my weakened body all the way back to the Silver Moon Pack. Only to hear my Alpha mate Killian announcing before the whole pack that Elena, the very woman who had poisoned me, was about to become the new Luna. And the son I had nearly died to bring into the world was nestled in her arms, sweetly calling her mommy. Eyes burning, I rushed forward and exposed the truth in front of everyone: she had poisoned me. Killian cut me off, impatient. "Lila, as Luna you vanished for five years without a word. Elena carried your burden for you, and instead of being grateful, you make up some pathetic lie to smear her?" Eric's face twisted with disgust. "Daddy, throw this liar out. She's scaring mommy!" And Elena, hiding behind them, gave me a taunting little smile. Something in me let go. That very night, I drank the potion that would sever the mate bond from my side alone. Fine, then. This mate, this son, I no longer wanted either of them.

After I discovered that my husband, Leonardo Marchetti, could not let go of his first love, I started teaching our daughter Sofia to call him "Uncle Leonardo." Sofia sprained her ankle at school. In the middle of the night, Leonardo got a phone call. Valentina was crying on the other end. Her daughter Lily had a nightmare and would not stop screaming for a father. Leonardo left without saying a word. I pressed an ice pack against Sofia's swollen ankle and whispered, "Say 'goodbye, Uncle Leonardo.'" Leonardo promised to come to Sofia's school sports day. Then Valentina called, sobbing that Lily had no father to run the three legged race with him. Leonardo walked out without a second thought. I just handed the phone to Sofia and told her to tell her teacher, "Uncle Leonardo says he cannot make it." Every time, Sofia hesitated. Sofia did not understand why I was making her do this. Until one day, Leonardo finally realized how much he had failed us. He put down all his mob business for Sofia's piano recital and swore he would not miss it. Sofia was backstage with the other children. Then Leonardo's phone buzzed. Valentina. I could not hear what she said, but I could guess. Lily was crying. Lily needed him. Lily did not have a father. Leonardo came back. But before Leonardo could begin his excuse, Sofia's voice came from the stage. "It is okay, Uncle Leonardo. You go take care of your other kid. Mom staying here to watch me is enough."

The 100th time Dexter Carrington ditches me to help my best friend with her lab work, I write the final line in my diary and break up with him. Dexter is exasperated, to say the least. "I genuinely don't know how your amygdala is wired. Your emotions have completely bulldozed your rational thinking." My best friend, Brianna Holt, laughs. "That's cruel. You're insulting her intelligence in words she can't even understand." She's right. I don't understand. The two of them dominate the biology department rankings every year, taking first and second place, and are the kind of prodigies even their professors defer to. I'm just an ordinary student at the music school next door. When they talk about how cells have their own rhythms, the only thing I can think to ask is what time signature those rhythms are in. Dexter always hates that. "If you don't understand, don't chime in." So now I listen. I don't chime in anymore. Because the first page of this diary reads, "Today is my birthday, but Dexter chose to go over data with Brianna. "By the time this diary is full, I'm leaving him for good."

Three days before the Mating Ceremony, the Alpha confessed his affair to me. "While you were away on business, I slept with Sophie." "But don't worry — we'll still go through with the ceremony. You'll still be the pack's Luna." My heart went cold. I left him without a second thought. The next day, the girl I'd sponsored for ten years showed up at my door. She rubbed her slightly swollen belly with a smug look on her face. "Vivian, I'm carrying Ethan's child. This baby will be the Alpha's heir — so you can give up now." But what Ethan didn't know was that I was pregnant too. I didn't tell him. I just booked a ticket out of the pack. What I never expected was that after I left, Ethan would lose his mind trying to find me.

For seven years, I stood by Reese Moretti as he fought his way up from a mafia nobody until he stood as an equal among the Three Families. Then I got pregnant with Reese's child. He promised me the wedding of the century. I was overjoyed and couldn't wait for our future together. Until his childhood sweetheart, Layla, came back, and everything changed. Layla was frail, and she'd once done Reese a great favor. Without even realizing it, he began to favor her over me—his fiancée. One week before the wedding, Layla shoved me to the floor. She leaned in close to my ear. "Ivy, if Reese walks in and sees us both on the floor, who do you think he'll worry about?" Before I could react, Layla suddenly screamed and collapsed. When Reese rushed in, Layla was clutching her chest, whispering weakly that her old heart condition had flared up. "Reese, I can't breathe. I don't think I can hold on much longer." Before I could say a word, Reese scooped Layla up in his arms and rushed her to the private medical wing. Blood spread beneath me. In that moment, the pain in my body was nothing compared to the agony of my heart tearing apart. Seven years of love and the child not yet fully formed inside me vanished in that single instant. Heartbroken and numb, I decided to leave and let them be together. But Reese refused to let me go.

That day we moved into the apartment next to the university, the three boys I’d grown up with started discussing room assignments. There were four bedrooms in total. The second-largest bedroom went to Xavier, the future Alpha heir. The two identical ones went to Lucas, the future Beta, and Victor, the future Gamma. As for the largest bedroom, the one with the best sunlight? They gave it to Lydia. Lydia was the girl the pack had only recently found and brought home. And I was the childhood sweetheart who had grown up with them. I stood at the doorway dragging my suitcase and asked: “Then where do I sleep?” The three of them froze for a moment, as if they’d only just remembered I existed. Lucas said, “You’re always going out of town for academic conferences anyway. The storage room will do.” Xavier, the one who had a marriage contract with me, was still making the last bed for Lydia. He didn’t even look up: “She’s been wandering outside for so long. She finally has a home.” “Cecilia, you don’t mind, right?” They had always believed I wouldn’t mind. Because I had been independent since childhood. I could walk alone through blizzards, and I could always clean up the messes they made. So they could give my room to Lydia and even forget that Xavier and I still had a marriage contract. Since there was no place for me here anymore, there was no reason for me to stay. I lowered my head, opened my phone, and signed the transfer application to Frostwood Academy. In three days I would leave Blackthorn Pack and join the confidential research project that had already invited me long ago. They had already excluded me from their future. This time, I would completely withdraw from their world.

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.

I was the treaty bride carefully chosen by Silvermoon pack and sent to Shadowridge pack. My presence there guaranteed ten years of peace between the two packs. All because I looked a little like the woman who had saved Theron, the Alpha of Shadowridge. For 1007 nights, Theron left bite marks all over my body, but the one mark reserved for a Luna never appeared. I begged him to let me go. He gripped my chin and laughed. "You're a stand-in. What makes you think you have the right to beg me?" After that, I was trapped in Shadowridge. Not his Luna, not his mate, just a shadow he could forget whenever he pleased. Three years later, the woman who had supposedly saved him returned from the dead: Celine. He announced to the pack that he would take her as his mate. Whatever hope I had left died. That same night, I found the man whose life I had once saved. "Help me fake my death. On the night of the eclipse, I want to die in front of Theron."

There are only 12 minutes left until the lucky moment for me to leave my family home as a bride. Charles Lumley finally makes it past the games and hands me my bouquet. My relatives crowd around the doorway, urging him on. "Hurry up and take your bride to the car! The lucky moment is almost here!" With red-rimmed eyes, Mom carefully straightens my veil. Just as we're about to leave, I hear my bridesmaid, Winnie Simpson, cry out behind me. "Wait! My eyeliner is smudged. I need a quick touch-up!" I stop in my tracks, and Charles comes to a halt too. "Sure. No rush," he says. As Winnie rummages through her makeup bag, she smiles at me. "Don't worry, Nat. I'll be quick. I wouldn't want to embarrass you at your wedding by showing up with ruined makeup." Then, as casually as if it's the most natural thing in the world, she hands her bag to Charles. "Hold this for me." He takes it. The room falls silent. Mom's face grows paler by the second. I look at him. "Charles, the lucky moment for me to leave is 8:58 am. If we leave now, we'll make it just in time." But he frowns and argues, "I'm already here. A few more minutes won't make a difference." I look at the pink makeup bag in his hand and suddenly smile. Turning around, I pick up my phone and send a message to a number. I text, "Weren't you going to steal me away? Come get me at 8:58 am."

Three days before my wedding to Don Marco, I scheduled a memory erasure procedure. "Ms. Leah, are you certain you want to erase the memories from this period of your life and forget the people you knew?" I ran my fingers over the wedding invitation Marco had carefully prepared and said softly, "Yes." Three years ago, on the night Marco and I got engaged, Violetta was involved in a car accident. When she woke up, she identified me as the person responsible. That was when I learned that even an innocent person could become the villain in everyone else's eyes. Marco, the man I loved most, believed her and sent me to prison for three years. "Leah, you nearly destroyed her life. You should be grateful that she's still willing to forgive you." "But I can't keep cleaning up your messes forever. You need to learn to face the consequences of your actions." That was Marco's final decision. The truth was, if he had been willing to investigate a little further, he would have discovered what really happened. During those three years, Marco never responded to my pleas or my cries for help. All he left me was a promise that he would marry me after I was released. An empty vow. But I no longer needed his belated tenderness. Marco, I choose to forget you.

My husband and I were in a passionate embrace when his phone suddenly rang. He pushed me away without hesitation, and I snatched the phone from his hand angrily. It was a message from his sister-in-law. [Henry, my mastopathy is acting up again. What should I do? My breasts hurt so much.] It was followed by a picture of her in sexy lingerie. That was when I lost my temper. "Your sister-in-law is such a shameless woman! How could she share such a picture with you in the middle of the night? How dare she harass you like this after your brother's passing?!" Henry kicked me out of bed. "Stop being petty and vicious, Tessa! My brother's death has been a huge blow for her. What's wrong with me showing her concern as family when she's sick?” "Have you any idea how disappointed I am with you? Apologize right now, or I'll divorce you!" In all our years of marriage, Henry would always threaten me with divorce because I was the one who courted him for five years before finally marrying him. He felt that I would never be able to leave him, but this time, I had lost all hope in him. I did not want him anymore.

Maude Ellington's fiance sends a message to his first love before their wedding. "You've always been the one I wanted to marry." With their wedding fast approaching, Maude watches him meticulously plan every detail with his first love in mind. She quietly lets it all go. Because she no longer wants the wedding. And she no longer wants him.

The storm hit just as our graduation gala ended. The lights went out. Rain swallowed the front steps. In the dark, I called my fiancé, my childhood best friend, and my brother. None of them answered. With seven percent left on my phone, I huddled against the auditorium wall. Then headlights swept across the windows, and I saw my twin sister. My fiancé was carrying her to the car. My best friend held the door while my brother kept her graduation cap and flowers dry beneath his jacket. All three of them had come for her. Not one had remembered me. They remembered the strawberry cream cake she loved, but never my dairy allergy. They helped her study while I figured things out alone. Even my fiancé had asked where she wanted to live before discussing our future with me. Every time, they promised to do better. Every time, I was told not to make a big deal of it. This time, I stopped calling. Seven percent was enough to cancel the wedding, turn down the job my brother had arranged, and book a one-way flight to Chicago. By the time they noticed I was gone, I would already be on a plane.

By our sixth year of marriage, Derrick hadn't touched me in three months. Said he was swamped at work. Always tired. After everything, I still believed him. Then on my birthday, I caught his friend talking in Garmenian—a language Derrick didn't think I understood. "You cut off the side piece yet? You were with her nonstop. Surprised you didn't drop dead. Your wife cool with that?" Derrick let out a smoke ring. "Haven't touched Audrey in months. Sabrina's insane in bed—I'm not over her yet. Sucks she got pregnant. Audrey doesn't want kids, so I gave Sabrina some cash. She'll have the baby overseas." My hands curled into fists. Silent tears streamed down my face. He glanced over, nervous. "What's wrong?" I smiled. "The cake you made is amazing. I'm really touched." It was sweet—but when you understand Garmenian, all you taste is betrayal.