Independence Tragic Love Short Stories & Novels

When my pup's life begins to fade, there's only one thing that can save him—Moondew. But my Alpha husband, Leo Hartwood, takes it to treat his childhood sweetheart's minor fever. I call him 99 times, begging him to bring it back. When he finally answers, his voice is ice-cold. "Stop using our pup to manipulate me. There's no way my heir is in danger." That night, our pup dies. Even then, Leo refuses to believe me. He insists the death certificate is fake and accuses me of staging a funeral just to get his attention. So I file to have our mate bond dissolved and prepare to return home to the Frosthaven Pack. On the day of the funeral, Leo shows up with his childhood sweetheart, Lilian Garner, and stands in front of our pup's grave, calling me cruel and selfish. Then he comes closer. For the first time, he realizes he can no longer sense our pup. All the color drains from his face. "Aurora… Where's our pup?"

Wendy Fisher loves me with all her heart. Ten years ago, she was willing to trade her life to save mine. I give up my money, power, and identity without hesitation to elope with her. But when I go into shock from blood loss after a car accident, I can't get through to her on the phone. At that moment, her assistant posts a picture on Instagram with the caption, "Reunited as a family of three, safely and happily." In the photo, I see Wendy holding the baby's hand. She's so happy that she's even forgotten to take off her wedding ring. It turns out even a love forged in life and death amounts to nothing more than this. I smile bitterly and dial my stepmother's number. "I want to restore my identity as Xander Lynch. I'll be back the day after tomorrow."

I had just reunited with my biological daughter when my husband and I had to fly overseas on a business trip. I was about to send my son his living expenses when a barrage of comments suddenly floated across my vision. [Don’t go! Your son’s girlfriend will come straight to your house and take over! She’ll pocket every cent you send him!] [Your two daughters will be abused so badly that they’ll be forced to eat tree bark with their bare hands, and they’ll think you allowed it!] [Both your adopted daughter and your biological daughter will come to hate you. Your son will manipulate them into helping him seize control of the company!] [In the end, your son will turn against his entire family for that gold digger. You’ll die alone on the street, with no one to even claim your body!] My hand froze in midair right as I was about to transfer ten million dollars to my son. The next second, he came trotting over with an eager smile. “Mom, Dad, don’t worry about a thing while you’re away! I’ll take good care of my two sisters! Oh, and don’t forget to send me my living expenses before you leave!” A chill ran through me. I quietly backed out of the transfer screen. “I’m not going on this business trip.”

I begged my boss, Arthur Hutton, ninety-eight times for us to get officially married. Each time, he canceled our plans because his childhood sweetheart deliberately lured him away. On the ninety-ninth attempt, I waited for him at the city hall. Arthur simply patted my head and then put up a sign on the door that read, [Serena Xander and Dogs Not Allowed.] He said indifferently, “Millie’s throwing a fit, and I can’t calm her down. I need to marry her first. “I’ll divorce her, so just wait for me. Next Wednesday is a good day. I’ll marry you then.” But he did not know that I only had ninety-nine chances to give. I would be resigning the following week.

When I was five, the wealthy Whitmores adopted me from an orphanage so their only son, Caleb, would have someone to grow up with. The first time we met, Caleb pulled his best friend Audrey Ellis over and gave me half his candy. After that, the three of us were inseparable. That changed in the summer after our college entrance exams, when Audrey confessed her feelings to me—and I accepted. Caleb quietly chose a university a thousand miles away. The night before he was supposed to leave, he went drinking alone. Someone dragged him into the alley behind the bar and beat and humiliated him until he died. Audrey and I spent the next two decades burdened by guilt. At forty, I was diagnosed with ALS. The night before I died, she held me and cried so hard she shook. "Julian, I love you. I always have." "But if there is a next life, I have to stay with Caleb. I can't let anything happen to him again." When I opened my eyes, I was back. I had returned to the day Audrey was going to tell me she loved me.

After being reborn, I decide to write my younger brother Marcus Jensen's name on the marriage application. This time, I will fulfill Jessica Carter's wishes. In this life, I'm the one who dresses Marcus in the groom's suit and slips the engagement ring onto his finger. I personally orchestrate every encounter between them. When she takes Marcus to Lisbeth, I head south to Humridge College without hesitation. Why am I doing this? Because in my previous life, even after I turned 50, Jessica and our son were still on their knees begging me for a divorce. They wanted me to let her have one final chance at love with Marcus. In this new life, I only want to spread my wings and soar higher. I'm done with romantic entanglements.

It was supposed to be our pre-wedding getaway. The five of us had gone to the beach together when my boyfriend's childhood friend, Wendy Riverson, suddenly removed her earrings and suggested we play Elite Society again. "Lowest bidder gets eliminated. No motorboat for them—they have to swim to the island." One person bid 3000. Another offered 20000. Then my boyfriend, George Foster, casually put down 5 million. "Spend it however you want," he told her indulgently. "I've got plenty more." The other two immediately started cheering. "Nice, George! Wendy's dying to marry you, I think!" Once again, I was eliminated, for I only put in 50. When George noticed my expression, he frowned. "It's just a game. Don't be so petty. And remember the bet." This was not my first time getting eliminated. These people would put in 100 thousand for a leaf Wendy picked up from the ground. When I could not win, I was made to clean the toilets for a month. They put in a million for shoelaces she dirtied. I could not win, and my punishment was sitting on the floor during classes for a year. I was always in last place, always an extra. They boarded the motorboat and left happily. Before they departed, George casually slipped an arm around Wendy's shoulders as they laughed together. He never even looked back at me. Watching them, I suddenly realised something. They were the stars of this trip. Something inside me finally died. I took out my phone and made a call. "I'll be joining the reunion dinner tomorrow, Mr. West." The voice on the other end immediately became respectful. "Ms. Tiffany, you're finally coming home!"

I was not a competent Luna. Despite being marked for years, I never managed to bear an heir for Raymond Miller. According to pack tradition, a Luna who could not continue the Alpha bloodline was expected to step down voluntarily, or at least permit other she-wolves to approach the Alpha. But I stubbornly refused. On his deathbed, he held my hand and let out a low, teasing laugh. "Your possessiveness is simply too fierce, Chloe. If there is a next life, I certainly won't choose you as my mate again." I thought he was merely joking, so I deliberately snapped back, "Fine by me. Then I won't bond with you either." Yet, when I opened my eyes again, I had actually returned to the exact day he was choosing a mate for our political alliance. Inside the magnificently decorated hall, eligible she-wolves from all the allied packs held their breath, desperately hoping to be chosen. The Pack Elder smiled warmly at Raymond. "Alpha heir, please take this moonstone necklace that belongs to the future Luna and place it around the neck of the she-wolf you have chosen." Raymond walked directly toward me. I couldn't help but curl my lips into a small smile, thinking that he was playing coy as usual. Even in another life, he would still choose me. But in the next split second, he brushed right past my shoulder. A sharp gasp echoed from behind me. He placed the necklace around the neck of another she-wolf.

Back when we were still in love, I heard from someone else that Charlie Grant had been getting unusually close to his secretary. He never offered an explanation. He let me dig for the truth on my own. Over the past five years, I quietly collected countless photos of them together—having lunch, leaving late-night meetings, even traveling for business—but none of them offered conclusive proof of cheating. Until the day he proposed to me. There was a giant screen set up. It was supposed to play a romantic video Charlie had prepared just for the proposal, but the screen suddenly cut to something else. A video of Charlie at a hospital, standing beside his secretary as she underwent a pregnancy check-up. In the video, the doctor clearly referred to Charlie as her husband… and the father of her child. His secretary burst into tears on the spot and apologized to me repeatedly. She sobbed as though she were the victim. Charlie, however, stood there with a cold expression and said flatly, "She's an unwed mother. She was helpless. I was just accompanying her for the checkup. The doctor must've misunderstood." Everyone braced for a dramatic scene. However, I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry. I only reached up and slowly removed the delicate flower hairpiece from my head. I set the hairpiece down. Then I looked Charlie in the eyes and spoke calmly. "You're right. It is sad that she’s pregnant and all alone. "This marriage proposal was meant for her. Not me." I gave a faint smile. "May you enjoy a blissful life. And… congratulations on the baby."

The new Consigliere wanted to restructure the Mafia family’s affairs by sinking her claws into me. My boyfriend, who was a Mafia Don and wildly in love with me, wanted to get revenge on her for me. He planned to raise her status to the skies and make her suffer a horrific downfall when the right time came. He kicked me out of the family and gave all my responsibilities to the new Consigliere. She received luxury cars and jewelry from him as gifts, but he told me to tolerate it as part of the plot. When my younger brother's kidneys started to fail, I begged my Don boyfriend for the surgery fees, which he agreed to give me. On the day of the surgery, I waited from daylight to daybreak for the money, but nothing came. That was when I saw an Instagram post from the new Consigliere, taunting me. "My family's Don is such a wonderful man. Someone who was kicked out of the family was brazen enough to ask him for money. What if she can't repay us? I had to stop the money transfer. I hope this woman will find a better excuse the next time she tries to scam him." The mess ended with my brother dying. My Don boyfriend called me later in an attempt to cajole me. "Don't be mad. Joey can have his surgery later. I'm just tolerating Rosetta to encourage her to become full of herself. The higher she climbs, the harder she'll fall. Don't worry! Her birthday will be in a few days. I'll humiliate her, then make her lose everything. We'll have our wedding after that. That will cheer Joey up!" However, I knew that his so-called plot was the start of him falling in love with another woman. That was when I no longer wanted him.

At the company's banquet, Vanessa Sinclair the intern tosses a piece of abalone, which she has already taken a bite out of, onto my fiance, Leon Mercer's plate. He doesn't hesitate to gobble it up. That night, I tear our marriage alliance's contract into pieces before tossing them into the trash can. Leon takes off his glasses, his brows drawn together into a tight knot. "All this for a piece of abalone?" "She gave it to you after taking a bite out of it!" Leon looks up at me, his lips already curved into a mocking smile. "I never knew you're the type to be this petty, Audrey. Fine. If you don't want to proceed with this marriage, then let it be. Just don't regret your decision later." Leon thinks that I'll still badger him like I always do in the past. But I just laugh at him in return. "Fine. Whoever regrets their decision will be the world's most pathetic loser!"

I'd been with Daniel Bonanno for five years. On our anniversary, I was the one who processed his marriage license application— but the bride wasn't me. It was Emma Miller. He told me it was just a merger. A fake arrangement between families. Once he became the Don, he'd marry me for real. I'd heard that line so many times I'd lost count. But I watched him grow closer to that woman. Day by day. Even when I was kidnapped, he was in bed with her. And finally, it hit me. Five years of loving him, and it was all just a joke. So I faked my death. I made sure everyone thought I jumped off that cliff. But after that, Daniel started haunting the base of that cliff. Two years, pacing back and forth, murmuring under his breath: "I was wrong. Please. Just come back."

The 19th time I demand a divorce from my husband, Jason Simmons, my best friend, Diana Nicholson, doesn't try to change my mind as usual. In the past, she always tried to stop me. She even personally showed up at Jason's company to ask him to reconcile with me. This time, she quietly contacts a lawyer for me, prepares a divorce agreement, and helps me with the divorce proceedings. Unable to help myself, I question her about her unusual behavior just as I'm about to sign the divorce agreement. It seems that I've touched a sore spot because she suddenly loses her temper and snaps, "Layla suffered a miscarriage because of you this time. How much longer are you going to cause a fuss?" Layla McKinley is Jason's mistress. Diana sighs as she takes in my bewildered expression, explaining, "The truth is, Layla was my junior in university. I'm the one who introduced her to Jason. I did my best to compensate you for so many years out of guilt, but I've grown exhausted. "For my sake, please stop causing a fuss," she says, placing a hand on my shoulder. "I'll make it up to you for everything they've done." My body feels unbearably cold. I feel as if I've been shoved into a pool of freezing water. It turns out that both my friendship and my marriage have been nothing but a farce the entire time. I quietly flip open the divorce agreement when Diana isn't paying attention and pen my signature on the dotted line.

My fiance, Marcus Benton, has canceled our wedding seven times now because of his childhood friend's depression. The first time, she cut her finger and needed him to comfort her. The second time, her depression flared up, and she threatened to kill herself. Every single time something happens to her, he drops everything and abandons me. This time, he is finally supposed to keep his promise and fly me to Solaviera for our wedding. Yet on the day of our flight, he shows up with his childhood friend, Bianca Warner, in tow. "Bianca's biggest dream in life is to see the ocean in Solaviera. Let's put the wedding on hold. I'll take her to see the sea first, and I'll take you there for our wedding next time." Marcus assumes I'll just wait for him like I always do. What he doesn't know is that to be with him, I made a bet with Papa. If we fail to get married this time, I have to return to my mafia family and accept an arranged marriage. So this time, I am leaving him for good.

Damian Blackwood, the Alpha heir of a neighboring pack, and I had grown up together, yet he told the entire pack I was worthless. "I'm going to be Alpha one day. I'll lead the entire Blackwood Pack. But you're stuffy and dull, and apart from a pretty face, you're worthless." After that, the entire pack knew me as nothing more than a pretty ornament who coasted on her father's name. Later, war came to the Blackwood Pack. The moment Damian rode out to suppress it, I asked my father to arrange a political match with another pack and let me bond with someone else. It was hard on my father, but he agreed. Six months later, Damian returned victorious, only to find that I had already become another man's mate. He came looking for me like a madman, his eyes red. "Why did you take someone else as your mate?" I turned the wedding ring on my finger and looked at him calmly. "You said it yourself. I'm stuffy and dull, and I'm not fit to be your Luna."

The year I lost my sight at five, I found Stellan Hale half-frozen in the snow. I told my mother I wanted a companion to guide me and begged her to take him in. Then I leaned close to his ear and whispered a promise. "I don't need you to be my guide dog. Just stay alive. Go wherever you want to go." Still, Stellan stayed. After Mom remarried, he became the only person I had left. He watched over me as I grew up, serving as my eyes and my cane year after year. He even gave up his extraordinary talent for painting to study medicine, all for the sake of my sight. Even after he became one of the most brilliant ophthalmologists in the country, I still could not see. On my 25th birthday, someone he had once been close to won a prestigious art prize. He shut himself inside the study, and I could hear pages rustling behind the door. He told me, his voice carefully even, that he was writing my birthday wishes. I smiled and moved toward him, wanting to kiss his cheek, when words suddenly scrolled across the darkness behind my eyes. "Wake up, you blind little fool. He's tearing every one of his paintings to shreds. On the back of each one, he even wrote 'Go to hell, Elara Langley.' "Stop walking. There's a wire on the floor ahead of you. One more step and you're dead." I froze. Then I smiled again and kept walking. "Stel, Stel, every wish you made for me is going to come true."

My fiancé’s first love Chloe had returned. Rumor had it she’d been overseas, treating some rare disease. I hadn’t believed it—until the day she showed up at my engagement party. And I watched as the man I’d been hopelessly in love with since I was sixteen left our party with her. “Wait for me,” Nathan said, “She is fragile. I need to make sure she is well.” He ignored me, but accompanying her to everywhere. I threw away the rings, trashed the wedding gown. When I was pale and trembling from a heart failure later. Nathan finally showed up. “Don’t you dare die on me, Emily,” His hands were shaking. His voice cracked. “We still have a wedding.”

My Vampire fiancé, Vincent, was the powerful prince of New York's most influential coven. He had lived for centuries and was notoriously ruthless, yet he bestowed upon me, and only me, every honor imaginable. But one month before our Union Ceremony, he suddenly insisted on postponing it. The reason was his childhood friend, Camilla, was dying from a rare condition known as Bloodline Degeneration. To repay a life debt from long ago, he wanted to hold a mock wedding with her to fulfill her last wish to wear a wedding gown. I refused outright. It was a flagrant violation of coven dignity. But he pressured me relentlessly, using a supposed ancient code of honor as emotional blackmail. Then, two weeks before the ceremony, I received an anonymous email containing an advanced blood analysis report. Only then did I learn that he hadn't just been preparing a wedding; he had already secretly formed a Mutual Blood Bond with her, a pact that would bind their lives together for eternity. In that moment, I finally understood. My two centuries of devotion to him had been nothing more than a joke. And so, I called off our union and set fire to everything he had ever given me. On the day of the ceremony, I traveled to Europe's Supreme Institute for Vampiric Research in Italy and took charge of the Institute's most secret and critical project. From that day forward, I would have nothing more to do with the noble prince. We were finished.

My husband's childhood sweetheart was diagnosed with a terminal illness. To fulfill her last wishes and let her experience the warmth of family, my husband, Aaron Turner, gave her my necklace. He even let her claim my birthday. Even our son started calling her "Mom" in private. He told me, "Chrishell, Sylvia is dying. Just give in to her, will you?" Whenever I asked him to spare even a little time and affection for me, our son, Lucas, would rush to speak on their behalf. "Mom, didn't you always teach me to be generous? Sylvia is dying. Why do you always make things difficult for her?" Over time, I stopped asking for anything at all. Then one night, I overheard my son speaking to his father after returning from the hospital. "Sylvia is so gentle and graceful. I wish Mom could be more like her." Aaron chuckled and affectionately brushed his hand over our son's hair. "Your mom may be a little strict, but it's all for your own good. Since you like Sylvia so much, how about we let her be your godmother?" So even the child I risked my life to bring into this world didn't like me. I lowered my gaze, quietly closed the bedroom door, and pretended none of it had happened. Since they were both filled with such regret, I'd leave quietly and give them what they wanted.

At our tenth engagement party, my girlfriend crushed my heart again, leaving my proposal ring dangling in the air. She had been chasing the ghost of her first love, and I was done being her fallback guy. When I finally opened my heart to someone new, she realized what she'd lost. Ten years together, ten engagement parties, and still, she wouldn't take my ring. Every time we reached the moment to exchange vows, she'd stare at the door, waiting for that man to swoop in and rescue her. She swore she'd only marry me if he crashed the party, claiming it would prove she'd truly chosen me. This time, I couldn't hold back. "If he never shows, are you just gonna keep stringing me along forever?" She shot back, "He still loves me. He'll show up to stop this. Besides, we've been together a decade. Does a ring even matter at this point?"