Independence Inspirational Short Stories & Novels

When Matteo Morandi divided up the territories, he let my cousin, Chloe Serra, choose first. As always. One was the deep-water port, a gold mine and our safest territory. The other was a stretch of abandoned, crumbling docks in the slums, where rival crews often traded gunfire. For the first time, I stepped forward before Chloe could choose. I pointed to the deep-water port on the map. "I want this one." Matteo rested a warm hand on my shoulder. His voice was gentle, but his words were cruel. "Chloe can't handle the slums. She needs to be in the safest place we've got. "Celia, the slums are more your speed." I was so angry I laughed out loud, but I didn't argue. Instead, my clenched fists slowly loosened. My uncle, Enzo Serra, liked to say Chloe was the Serra family's precious white dove, while I was the vicious dog born to fight in the mud. In his eyes, it was the perfect arrangement. The marriage alliance worked the same way. Matteo needed a respectable woman at his side to clean up his brutal reputation, so Chloe was the obvious choice. But Chloe cried and refused. She dreamed of an artist and a life in the sunshine. She would never marry a Sicilian butcher. So Uncle Enzo picked me. I'd taken a bullet for Matteo and known him for 12 years, yet I was still only ever his second choice. "Then give it all to Chloe. I'm done."

On yearbook photo day, I went over and stood next to my boyfriend, Blake Whitmore. Madison Vance, the cheer captain and sorority president, showed up late, and the crowd parted for her without being asked. A path opened straight to Blake, who stood dead center. "What took you so long? You just turned every head in the place." Blake smiled softly and pulled her into the spot beside him. I was pushed out of the frame. Tyler Brooks, my friend since childhood, caught my arm. "Claire, don't fight Madison for the spot. She's the main character today." Then he traded places with me and took the spot next to her. The crowd started whooping. The fraternity president stood on one side and the vice president on the other, with Madison safely between them. When the group shot was done, the whooping started up again. Blake and Madison had won Cutest Couple in this year's yearbook by a landslide. A hairline crack opened inside my chest, and the cold seeped through it. I was the one dating Blake. Everyone had voted for them anyway. Out on the lawn, the photographer guided the two of them through one close pose after another. Then he called out to us. "Mr. President, where's your fraternity pin? Put it on your queen!" My hand went to the Greek-letter pin over my heart. Blake looked over at me and jogged toward me. "Babe, let me borrow it. Don't be stingy." He took my wrist and moved my hand aside, then removed the pin he'd fastened there himself three years ago. People around us started murmuring. "Oh, that's her. Claire. Blake's girlfriend." "I never even noticed her... She really doesn't stand out." Something in me went hollow, and my hands closed into fists. Your moment of glory has nothing to do with me. So from now on, my life has nothing to do with you.

My mate, Alpha Julian, was born ruthless. He fell for a mute human girl, an innocent orphan whose scent could calm any wolf. He’d fought in pack wars his whole life. But with her, he discovered love. He only mated with me to secure his bloodline. His wolf never wanted me. I found out about their affair and confronted him at the full moon ceremony. I screamed. I raged. He didn't even look at me. "If you can't accept her," he said, "we can sever the bond. I'll give you your freedom and half my wealth." I refused. Again and again. But he was relentless. He wiped out my pack. He allied with witches and tortured my parents to death in silver cages. I knelt before him, broken and begging. I could only watch as dark magic devoured them. The pain shattered me. I passed out. And woke up on the day I first learned of his betrayal. This time, I didn't scream. I plotted. I contacted a powerful Alpha in the North, arranging sanctuary for my people. I planned my escape. But when I finally vanished, Julian was the one who went insane. He was the one who begged me to come back.

In my past life, my best friend and I married twins at the same time. We shared secrets, complained about our husbands, and teamed up to outsmart our overbearing mother-in-law—it was truly enjoyable. Until the day I nearly died giving birth to twins. As I lay on the brink of death, my best friend cradled my newborns and revealed the cruel truth. “Thank you, Bianca, for giving me such adorable twins. You had no idea, did you? The twins only ever loved me. If I had the ability to give birth, we wouldn't have used you as a tool to have kids. "You’re poor and have never been loved, so it was far too easy to manipulate you. Even the way your husband loved you? It was all my idea—I planned every move he made. “Oh, and every time you two were intimate, I was watching through the cameras—every single time!" When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day I met my best friend.

On the day of the bridal shoot, Nathaniel White's childhood friend, Yvonne Woods, turned up out of nowhere with an armful of flowers and threw herself into his arms, laughing. The photographer couldn't look away and turned the camera toward them again. I stood off to the side in my wedding dress with no idea what to do. The shutter clicked 99 times. Not once was the camera pointed at me. Watching how comfortable they were with each other in front of the camera left a bitter ache in my chest. Nathaniel and Yvonne, the girl he'd grown up with, were both very good-looking. Whenever they stood side by side, every photographer aimed straight at them. The day he asked me out and I said yes, a friend offered to take our picture. Instead, she aimed the camera at him and Yvonne. She even said they looked perfect together. On a Valentine's Day date, every street photographer we passed offered to photograph the two of them for free and asked me to step aside so I wouldn't ruin the shot. I'd spent most of a year preparing for these bridal photos: losing weight, taking care of my skin, and choosing the perfect makeup look. None of it could compete with one sweet smile from Yvonne. "You, the wolf on the grass! Move! You're in the shot," the photographer shouted at me impatiently. I froze. Instinctively, I looked at Nathaniel, hoping he'd speak up for me. Instead, he looked away and reached over to pluck a fallen leaf from Yvonne's hair. His usually cold eyes were full of tenderness. Something went out of me. I walked off without a word. I was giving the whole frame back to them. And the rest of my life, too.

In Mistbrook Valley, there's a custom. If a she-wolf still hasn't met her fated mate after her first shift, she can choose a mate herself. All she has to do is carve a little horn lantern and hang it on a hawthorn tree. Whoever wants her takes it down. Silas Rowan, the Moon Goddess's priest, and I grew up together. That lantern should have been his to take. But I waited all night, and the one who finally took it down was Gideon Ward, the young Alpha who had just returned from the North. "I fell for you the moment I saw you." His voice was low, and the tips of his ears were red. "Marry me, Evelyn." After we bonded, when I had a fever, he'd carry me on his back over three ridges through the night to find a healer. After full-moon hunts, he'd pick a pink hawthorn blossom and tuck it behind my ear. There was always such heat in his eyes when he looked at me. I thought we'd live like that forever. But after Silas and I survived a landslide together, I found out I was pregnant. No one around us believed the baby was Gideon's. Even Gideon looked at me with red-rimmed eyes and asked me a single question. "Evelyn, do we really have to keep this baby?" Something in my heart died for good.

For three whole years, everyone at school knows me as a hopeless student who can barely pass a test. After the SATs, I am sitting at my cousin's college acceptance celebration, quietly eating my meal. My aunt, Karen Reed, suddenly snatches the plate from my hands. "Your scores are pathetic, and you still have the nerve to sit here and eat?" My cousin, Wilbert Yard, swirls his drink and sneers. "Jason, you won't get anywhere in life with a brain like yours. You can be my driver someday. I'll pay you 800 dollars a month." My uncle, George Yard, points a finger in my face. He looks at me in disgust and says, "Your parents have been working out of town for three years, and you still can't get decent grades. You're embarrassing the family!" Everyone at the table turns to look at me. Just then, my phone rings. I casually put it on speaker, and my homeroom teacher's voice fills the entire room. "Jason, you scored a 1590 on the SAT! That's the highest score in the state!"

My neighbor is a physics genius. He's spent the past six months preparing for an important physics competition. However, he wants to skip it to care for his girlfriend, who has a fever. I tell his parents about it. So, he's forced to participate in the competition. He wins first place and is admitted to Quinver University. Later, he establishes his own business and finds success. I become one of his employees. He looks down at me imperiously in a dim basement. He stomps on my fingers, shattering them. "You deserve this for being so wicked, Larissa Clarke." When I open my eyes again, I'm taken back to before any of this ever happened.

I’m the princess of the Moretti family, the Chicago Outfit. But all I ever cared about was sculpting. The day before Thanksgiving, my car died on me. I had to drive home in some beat-up, mud-caked Jeep. The second I walked into the penthouse, some strange woman shoved a pile of silver polish into my arms. She jutted her chin at me. “Get these polished before the dinner party,” she sneered. I looked at her. She was wearing my late mother’s favorite silk robe. This is my house. Who the hell was this woman? And who was supposed to polish this junk? Me? The only princess of the Moretti family? I pulled out my phone. Opened the family's encrypted app. I sent a message to my father, Vincenzo. “Your new pet wants me to polish the silver.”

The day before the start of a new semester, Gianna Sutton, my online girlfriend, tells me she lost me to her best friend in a dice game. I haven't even figured out what's going on when she suddenly adds me to the group chat with more than a hundred people. I notice the newly made announcement pinned to the top. "Congratulations to Natalia, our campus belle, for winning herself a 220-pound boyfriend!" Just then, someone posts a photo of me from high school. I am wearing an oversized uniform in the photo, my stomach pushing against the desk before me. I am so overweight that my eyes are barely visible. Those in the group chat immediately go wild. "That thing can't be human! It's clearly a pig in disguise!" "I actually feel kind of bad for Natalia. I mean, imagine having to complete couple tasks with a pig like him." "It's a total mismatch between a total knockout and an absolute beast!" It doesn't take long before someone sets up a betting pool over whether I'll show up tomorrow night. Gianna drops 4,500 dollars, betting that I won't show up. "I hope you won't blame me for this, Natalia. You're the one who rolled a six and won him in the game." Natalia Dafforn, the campus belle, remains completely silent. Cameron Gunter, the acknowledged scion in the freshman group chat, suddenly tags me. "You're definitely showing up tomorrow, right, Zachary?" I look at the messages piling up in the group chat and smile. I have already lost 145 pounds—from 275 to 130—just to meet Gianna in real life, something no one is aware of. In the past two months alone, I have been asked for my contact info more times than in my past 18 years combined. I quietly throw down 450 dollars, betting that I'll show up on time. Then, surrounded by everyone egging me on, I simply send one message. "A bet is a bet."

On my eighteenth birthday, I finally got the first key that had ever belonged to me. The mattress, desk, space heater, and blinds in my bedroom had all been paid for with tips from three summers of waiting tables at a restaurant by the harbor. Then my brother brought his fiancée home for Christmas. To impress her, my parents dumped my clothes in the basement and announced that my room would become the newlyweds' room after the wedding. Dad said, “Madison’s never stayed with us before, and your room gets the best light. Sleeping in the basement for a few nights won’t kill you.” My married sister leaned against the kitchen island with a nasty little smile. “Quit acting like somebody stole your crown. You’ve always been good at turning nothing into the end of the world.” Mom reminded me that Carter’s marriage mattered to the whole family. My only job was to keep my mouth shut and not ruin Christmas. The truth was, it had never been about one room. It was about the fact that, to them, I had never really belonged in that house. I finally stopped trying.

On the day of my daughter Eleanor Baldwin's second birthday party, my entire family stood nervously by the banquet hall entrance. They were not there to greet guests, but rather to keep me from showing up and causing a scene. Mom's face was written all over with anxiety. "Lucas wouldn't actually crash the party, would he?" Dad's brow stayed tightly furrowed. "Who knows? That disgrace of a son is capable of anything." My younger brother, Cody Baldwin, had his arm wrapped gently around my wife, Kendra Clarkson, trying to reassure her. "Don't worry. If Lucas dares to show up, I'll keep you and Ellie safe." Kendra nodded slowly. "If it really comes to that... maybe we should just let Ellie be his goddaughter. At least then, we're still family..." However, the party came and went, and I never appeared. I had already made up my mind to join a classified national defense research program. Only this time, it was for good.