Mistress Awakening Short Stories & Novels

In my last life, I died three days after Layla Vale became a "savior." Even as she injected concentrated wolfsbane into my IV, she practiced her funeral face in front of a photograph of Seraphina Blackwood. "Once she's dead, I'll be remembered as her savior. Adrian will fall for me sooner or later. Rowan, why did you have to call the police and ruin everything?" I tried to pull the needle out, but my wrist was pinned to the bed. The Vales reminded me that they had taken me in from an orphanage, paid my tuition, and given me a home. So writing Layla's fraudulent interview copy, covering up the wolf-luring resin, and finally dying in her place were all debts I owed her. When I opened my eyes again, I was back two hours before the charity night run began. Layla kicked her white boots over to my feet and ordered me to crouch down and tie the laces, then write the interview copy for her "heroic rescue." She had no idea that two hours later, she would deliberately release maddened wolves to play the hero on camera and leave Alpha Adrian Blackwood's wife critically injured. In my last life, I worked myself to the bone covering every crack in her plan, only for her to kill me to keep me quiet. This time, I warned her: "The east emergency door isn't locked. Something is going to happen tonight." Layla sent the order to the team chat, impatient. "We go as planned. Nobody changes anything." I saved a screenshot, started recording, and for the first time did not clean up after her. Later, her arrow wounded Seraphina. I pulled the child to safety, triggered the alarm, and staunched Seraphina's bleeding. When Adrian arrived, he gave Layla only one look. Yet she told me, her cheeks flushed, "Did you see that? He's fallen for me." I looked at the wolf-luring resin that hadn't been wiped clean off her glove, and I smiled. She had no idea Adrian wasn't looking at a woman he desired. He was watching the woman who had hurt his wife.

On the very first day of our marriage, Jasper Clarke, a renowned gynecologist, laid down his terms. "My time can mean life or death for my patients. You can't afford to waste it. I may not be able to be there for you day to day, but I'll set aside half a day every month just for you. That's the most I can offer." I understood how demanding his job was, so I nodded and agreed. From then on, I ate alone, went to doctor's appointments alone, and spent my days in an empty house. I never once disturbed Jasper. That changed in my third month of pregnancy, when I began showing signs of a threatened miscarriage. For the first time, I booked a specialist appointment with Jasper. The moment I pushed open the door to his office, his smile froze. "What are you doing here? Get out! Don't take up a spot another patient needs!" Before I could say a word, he called in the next patient. A young pregnant woman walked in behind me, carrying a bouquet of white jasmine. She sat down beside Jasper. As the door closed, I saw him stand up, his left hand resting at her waist and his right hand covering hers as he took the bouquet. I waited outside for four hours, but Jasper never called in another patient. A nurse came over to inform me. "Ms. Wells is Dr. Clarke's VIP patient. He saves every Wednesday for her. If you're not feeling well, I can help you make an appointment with another doctor." My phone lit up with a calendar reminder. The half-day I had been looking forward to all month would be over in five minutes. My hand stilled against my lower abdomen. Suddenly, I could not feel the pain anymore. After a long moment of silence, I spoke softly. "I'd like to schedule an abortion."

Samuel Pierce is the man every guy in Crown City wishes he could be. His career is on the steady rise, and he has Scarlett Bennett—a woman who loves him like he's her whole world—by his side. She's a spoiled heiress who never spares anyone a second glance, yet her love and devotion to him have stayed rock-solid for decades. When his career hits a wall, she drops a multimillion-dollar deal just to help him land a six-figure contract. When he collapses after pushing himself too hard, she stays by his bedside day and night, refusing to sleep as she cares for him. When he's trapped on a mountain by a mudslide, she ignores the rescue team's warnings and risks her life to climb up there and drag him out. Throughout their 40-year marriage, Scarlett insists on not having kids. Still, even without children, she and Samuel remain as in love as they have been from day one. Then all of that ends the year Scarlett dies.

On Christmas Day, Dad shows up at my wife Sophia Walker's law firm, covered in snow. Clutching a crumpled land purchase contract, he stands awkwardly in front of her desk for a long time before finally gathering the courage to speak. "Sophia, I got scammed out of 30 thousand dollars in retirement savings when I bought a plot of land to be buried in. You're a lawyer. Could you take a look at the contract and see if there's any way I can get my money back?" Sophia specializes in contract disputes, but she doesn't even bother to glance at the document. Instead, she sweeps it off her desk and onto the floor. "You came to me over a 30-thousand-dollar scam involving a burial plot? I have actual clients waiting. I can't waste billable hours on this." Dad flinches at her words and hurriedly bends down to pick up the contract, apologizing over and over. "I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to bother you. I won't take up any more of your time. I'll figure something out myself." My heart aches at the sight. Then my gaze falls on the case files scattered across Sophia's desk. Right on top is a legal brief arguing for an acquittal in Ethan Cole's aggravated assault case. Ethan is her childhood sweetheart. He's gotten into a bar fight and broken three of a woman's ribs. Despite the overwhelming evidence against him, Sophia has spent the entire night poring over legal statutes and drafting more than 30 pages of arguments in an attempt to get him acquitted. Yet when it comes to her father-in-law, she can't even be bothered to look at his contract. I watch Dad shuffle toward the door, his back hunched and his shoulders slumped. Taking a deep breath, I slowly slide the wedding ring off my left ring finger and place it on the corner of Sophia's desk.

The doctor adjusted his glasses before handing her a stack of forms. "Ms. Simon, are you sure you want to schedule the love-eradication procedure? Please verify your personal information and sign at the bottom." Selma Simon lowered her eyes to the form, where her details were listed in black and white. Applicant: Selma Simon. Age: 25. Procedure: Eradication of all romantic feelings for Valerio Gould. She stared at the words, her fingertips trembling slightly, before finally answering, "I'm sure." Picking up the pen, she slowly signed her name on the designated line, each stroke bringing her one step closer to ending a love that had consumed most of her life. "Your procedure is scheduled for seven days from now." The doctor put away the paperwork, then added a word of caution. "I must remind you that this technology was only recently introduced in this country and is still in its early stages. "Once your romantic feelings are erased, they can never be recovered. For the rest of your life, you'll automatically block out any romantic attachment to him. Are you certain you won't regret this?" Selma looked up and nodded. "I won't."

On the day of the mating ceremony, I'm supposed to be marked by William Ernst and become the Luna of the Shadow pack. However, Annie Denver, my younger twin sister, suddenly comes back from abroad. Dad, Mom, and William end up abandoning me, choosing to pick her up from the airport. While Annie posts a family photo on Facebook, flaunting how everyone in the family loves her, my family cuts me off whenever I try to contact them through mind-link. They end up closing the mind-link. After calling countless times, William finally accepts my call and asks me to stop rushing him. He tells me that today's mating ceremony is canceled and will be rescheduled on another date. My dearest parents, brother, and the man I love the most all turn me into the laughingstock of the entire pack—and the most ridiculous bride of all. Despite being laughed at, I didn't cry or make a scene. After taking care of everything, I write a number in my journal—the 99th time. This is the 99th time they have disappointed me. From this moment on, I won't beg for their love anymore. I fill out an application for Arcetic expedition, ready to leave them. They all think that my silence and constant compromises with Annie mean I've matured. They fail to realize that I'm disappointed to the core. I am leaving for good.

When my wife, Hazel Zimmerman, is diagnosed with a terminal disease, she insists on divorcing me just to set me free. I refuse to do so. Instead, I travel all over the world to seek doctors and treatment remedies in hopes of finding Hazel a cure. I keep going at it until I start vomiting blood from exhaustion. But as soon as I reach home, I overhear Hazel bragging to her best friend smugly. "Brandon, that idiot, actually thinks that I really have cancer! I just wanted to use this excuse to divorce him so I could go on a world trip with Nathan. "Once I've had my fun, I'll claim that I'm cured of my disease. Then, I'll remarry Brandon again." "Do you really think Brandon will believe your excuse?" the best friend asks. Hazel just sneers in disdain. "That idiot loves me so much that he can't live without me. Ever since he found out that I have cancer, he's been crying his eyes out. What can he tell, anyway?" When Hazel brings up divorce once again, I don't hesitate to accept it this time.

My fiancée, Joanna Stiles, cheats on me again, this time with Ashton Barker, the man who's supposed to be my body double. She even compliments me on choosing such a fitting body double. Desperate to win her back, I get a tattoo in the style she likes, yet Joanna has it removed herself. "Be good. That look doesn't suit you." She even promises me, "The rest of them are just temporary distractions. You're the only man I'll ever marry." With Joanna's permission, Ashton takes the stage to accept an award that rightfully belongs to me. He also attends family gatherings at her side. Even during our wedding rehearsal, Joanna is listening to the playlist she created with Ashton. When she notices me standing there with a frown, she snaps impatiently, "I canceled a board meeting to be here for this rehearsal, and you can't even stay focused? If you're that unhappy, I might as well have Ashton take your place." This time, I don't fight back; I just agree. Just then, my phone lights up with a message from Serena Cahill, my longtime rival who now lives abroad. "Gabriel, why didn't you choose me when our families tried to arrange our marriage all those years ago?"

When the Carter family went bankrupt, Zoe Carter sold herself to the Tanners to save her mother. She became the bride of Yale Tanner, the man everyone in Gerton feared and avoided like the devil himself. Their marriage was supposed to bring him good fortune and save his life. Three days after the wedding, Yale, who had been on the brink of death from a gunshot wound, made a miraculous recovery. From then on, he treated Zoe like the most precious thing in his world. Now, however, Zoe sat bound at the wrists and ankles with coarse hemp rope, less than two feet from the open door of a helicopter. Freezing water jolted her awake. At thirty-three thousand feet, the icy wind rushing through the open doorway chilled her to the bone. She struggled instinctively, but the ropes only tightened, digging into her flesh until blood began to seep from her wrists and ankles. "Don't be scared, Zoe. Look at your mother! She's putting on quite the kite show!" Yale seized her trembling head and forced her to look at the screen beside her. There, suspended from a rope outside the helicopter, her mother dangled helplessly in the wind, her eyes vacant as she swayed like a kite. "Mom! Mom!" Her fear for her mother overwhelmed her own terror. Frantically, Zoe tried to crawl toward the screen, struggling forward on her bound hands and feet. Yale caught her by the back of her neck and held her firmly in place. His warm breath brushed her ear as he spoke, his voice cold and menacing. "Have you learned to behave yourself yet, Zoe? Now tell me, who do the data and research papers on precision-targeted therapies and antibody-drug conjugates really belong to?"

It all started because my daughter, Joy Harrell, threw a tantrum wanting to go to the amusement park. On the way there, we got into an accident that left my wealthy husband, Brian Harrell, paralyzed in both legs, unable to ever stand again. As punishment, he slashes our daily allowance to a mere ten cents, and Joy and I are forced to survive by scavenging through trash and even fighting wild dogs for food. One day, dizzy with hunger, Joy eats some cookie crumbs that the family doctor, Aurora Bradley, drops on the floor. She does so out of sheer hunger and desperation. However, Brian immediately berates her for "stealing" and forces her to kneel outside in the pouring rain for ten hours before being allowed back inside the villa. Furious, I go to confront him, but instead I see his crippled legs standing tall, holding hands with Aurora as they waltz to the music. Brian's friend looks out the window and feels sorry for us, saying, "Look, Brian, your daughter's tantrum might have caused you to miss your last chance to see your first love ever again, but don't you think that you've already punished her and your wife long enough for that? "You even hired a stand-in to pose as a doctor in the house. Surely your anger has cooled off by now, right?" Brian scoffs and replies coldly, "They were thoughtless enough to ruin the seven-year pact I had with Dorothy. This punishment is nothing—in fact, it's way too light for them. "Don't you ever bring this up again. Only two more years of their punishment remain. Once it's over, I'll make it up to them properly." However, Brian doesn't know that I've been saving all of the good food I can ever get for Joy, and thus, I've developed terminal stomach cancer. In other words, I will never live to see the future. But I will also never let Joy stay by his side to suffer any longer.

It was near the end of May when I got off my night shift and got a call from my younger self, right before the SAT. "Eight years from now, am I happy? Am I living abroad, or working at Collins Corporation? "Charlotte said I don't need the SAT. She's taking me overseas." He sounded excited, already planning to spend the next few days doing whatever he wanted. I looked down at the grease on my uniform. Behind me was a cramped factory dorm, a cramped room packed with 12 beds. "Charlotte's getting married today," I said. "But you're not the groom." He sucked in a breath. "That's impossible. She said she'd marry me." Last night, Charlotte Collins texted me. [Don't come tomorrow. You work at a factory. You'll embarrass me.] His voice caught. "Who is it? Do I know him?" I said calmly, "Open the math worksheet in your bag. Finish it, and I'll tell you who she's marrying."

The day Ruth Frost and I meet each other's parents for the first time, my mother, Gladys Carey, ends up in the hospital after suffering a severe allergic reaction. I rush to the hotel's front desk and demand, "I told you repeatedly that there couldn't be any seafood in the food! How could this happen?" After checking the reservations, the staff member looks at me cautiously. "Mr. Goodman, Ms. Frost booked two tables with us today. For one table, she requested less onion, extra garlic, no cilantro, and mild spice. There were no dietary restrictions listed for the other table. We never received any instructions to leave out seafood sauce." I freeze as I look at the food order record the staff member hands me. The special instructions are written out in meticulous detail. "Mr. Knapp doesn't eat onions. Mrs. Knapp likes garlic. Marvin doesn't eat cilantro. Please make the dishes mildly spicy." Marvin Knapp is Ruth's childhood friend. She carefully notes every detail of the table she reserves for his family, as though she's terrified of getting even the smallest thing wrong. But for Mom's table, the special instructions section is completely blank. Before today's meeting, I message Ruth at least ten times, reminding her that Mom has a seafood allergy so severe it could kill her. Every single time, she replies, "I know. Don't worry." But she doesn't remember at all. Ruth forgets something that could cost Mom her life, yet she remembers every last detail of the Knapp family's food preferences. Thinking about the light glowing above the ER doors, I suddenly realize that the woman I've loved all these years has never really cared about me at all.

It was the last stop on my pre-wedding trip with my fiance, Kieran Rose. I'd stopped at a scenic overlook to take a few pictures, but when I returned, Kieran's car was nowhere to be found. I called him right away, but he didn't answer. I wandered around the park three times, trying to find a way out, only to end up even more lost. As I began to panic, I realized that my best friend, Leah Lowe, had posted something on Instagram. "Best guy friend ever! Free ride, free trip, and a personal photographer. He's a 10 out of 10!" She'd uploaded a whole carousel of photos, every single one taken by Kieran. I zoomed in on the background of one of them and realized they were already in the next town over. Kieran and I had been together for seven years, and somehow, every date we'd ever gone on had ended with Leah tagging along. Apparently, even our honeymoon was no exception. Just then, a text from Kieran popped up. "I stopped to grab some water. Where did you wander off to take pictures this time? Hurry up and get back in the car." I stared at the message for a few seconds, then laughed. He still hadn't realized I'd been out of the car for five hours.

The battery on my front door smart lock died, so I called a locksmith to come over. While he was working on the lock, he made small talk. "Dude, this lock comes with six spare keys. Did you lock all of them inside the apartment?" I froze. I've lived in this apartment for three years. My wife and I each have one spare key. The other three were always kept in the hallway drawer. That makes five total. So where's the sixth key?

Seren Grant is extremely protective of her personal space. We've been dating for three years, yet I still don't have the access code to her apartment. Whenever I want to spend the night at her place, I have to let her know in advance. She always came downstairs to let me in herself. She says it's about maintaining boundaries, and I respect that. Until one day, I arrive early and am just about to call her when the elevator doors open. Her colleague, William Baker, swipes his key card to get through the security entrance. Then, he presses his fingerprint against the lock on her apartment door. The door opens. When he turns around to see me, he freezes for a moment. "What are you doing here? Seren said tonight isn't a good time." When I ask him how he has access to her fingerprint lock, he simply responds, "I registered my fingerprint last year. I come over often to feed her cat." She never even told me she had a cat. She said she was allergic to cat fur and couldn't have pets. Using that excuse, she turned down my suggestions that we get a cat together three separate times. Later, when I came across William's social media posts, I learned that she'd given him the cat as a birthday present. I deleted all the messages I had sent to Seren asking her for permission to visit. Seren Grant, your boundaries only ever apply to me. Meanwhile, he's had a place in your home all along.

In conjunction with the Labor Day weekend, my fiancé, Jacob Fowler, and I, along with a few other friends, decide to go on a trip together. We start the trip with a mountain hike. Alas, on the very first day of our trip, I come down with acute gastroenteritis and have to take the cable car down the mountain. Before I leave the others, Jacob reminds me to take care of myself and adds, "Head down first, Daphne. I'll come to the hospital to keep you company once I've made sure that Charlene and the others will be fine without me." Riley White, my best friend, and Simon Hoffman, my childhood friend, both look at me with concern and tell me not to push myself too hard. But when I reach the cable car station, a staff member informs me that injured or ill passengers must be accompanied by a family member on the way down. I have no choice but to turn back and look for Jacob. However, when I return to the campsite, I find that the man who looked so worried before is now sporting an expression of pure relief. "I just sent Daphne off. You guys did great putting on an act with me," he says. Simon chuckles and shakes his head. "You don't need to thank us, Jacob. I know that you and Charlene have always had feelings for each other. You even created the wishing wall on this mountain just for her! "After all these years, it has even become a popular tourist destination. Now that Charlene finally got a chance to come back to the country, we must use this opportunity to make up for all your past regrets." Riley chimes in excitedly, "That's right! I know that Daphne has a weak stomach and can't take spicy food. That's why I secretly added some ghost peppers into our breakfast this morning. Now that her gastroenteritis has flared up, no one will get in the way of your trip down memory lane." My blood runs cold. I feel chilled to the bone as I stare at the wishing wall that is nearly half my height. "May God take pity on me and allow me to reunite with the one I love. I ask for nothing more in life." This is how I find out that everyone has been deliberately plotting to force me out of the trip—that the sole purpose of this trip is to let Jacob and Charlene, the star-crossed lovers, finally be together again.

I have intermittent aphasia. Whenever I get too emotional, I lose the ability to speak. Everyone mocks me for being mute, but my best friend and stepbrother, Julian Cadwell, and my childhood sweetheart, Vivian Wilder, are the only ones who stand up for me. When I confess my feelings to Vivian, Julian reads the love letter aloud on my behalf. On the day I propose, it is Julian who asks her for me. I thought they understood me best. When we start planning the wedding, I want a traditional ceremony, but Julian changes that plan because, in his words, "Modern ceremonies are more romantic." I want our new home to be in the heart of the city. But before I can say anything, Julian says, "Anton doesn't like the hustle and bustle. The suburbs are just right." Just like that, Vivian immediately decides on a new house in the suburbs. On the day of the wedding, I change into my suit and walk out, only to find the house completely empty. I ask about the situation in our family's group chat. Then, I get a video call almost instantly. Everyone is already at the wedding venue. Vivian tells me, "Anton, you don't need to come to the wedding. Julian will go through the motions in your place." My mother says, "Anton, a wedding is a big occasion. What if you can't speak when the time comes? Our family can't afford the embarrassment!" Julian says with a smile, "Anton, the wedding is just a formality. It doesn't matter who the groom is. I'm also Mom's son." For the first time in years, I speak in front of everyone. "You two can get married. I'm done."

Olivia Hall was 18 when her parents died in a bloody gang war. Henry West, the city's most powerful crime boss, took her captive and forced her into a relationship. He kept her at his side, never letting her leave. Olivia fought him every step of the way, willing to risk her life rather than give in. But no matter how much she hated him or how hard she pushed him away, Henry lavished her with affection and made sure no one could hurt her. Over time, his relentless devotion wore down her defenses. Against her better judgment, Olivia fell in love with him. Everyone said she was Henry's greatest strength and the one weakness that could destroy him. The day Olivia agreed to marry him, Henry wiped out half the city's criminal world to make sure no one left could threaten her. Then he announced he was retiring. "Olivia, you're the only woman I'll ever love. There'll never be anyone else. I promise." Years later, Olivia discovered that Henry was secretly looking after another woman, someone he treated like she was too precious for the world to touch. "Olivia, I still love you more than anyone, but Grace is sweet and innocent. She reminds me of you when we first met, and I can't just walk away from her. Once this is over, I'll make it up to you. I swear." Olivia wasn't going to give him another chance. He had ruined what they had, and she had no interest in holding on to what was left. She burned every keepsake from their relationship and boarded a flight overseas, determined to leave Henry behind for good.

I found out I was the villainess of a romance novel called Sunshine Donna when I was already pregnant. For twenty-two years, I'd chased Renato Gatti without a shred of shame. Then came three years of marriage, just the two of us, wrapped up in each other. I'd thought it was everything. Then his true love showed up. According to the story, I was supposed to fall apart. I'd torment the girl, sabotage their relationship, and in the process, destroy myself. A bullet through the forehead. That was how it ended for Gianna Milano. I looked up. Renato was across the room, phone in hand, the ghost of a smile on his lips. He'd met her. Fine. This time, I'd step aside. But when I asked for a divorce— He cried. He begged me to stay. He threw the entire East Coast at the problem, just to keep me from walking out the door.

After an accident and miscarriage, Hansel Saddler and I are so devastated that we're both diagnosed with depression. For the next five years, I try my best to act like I'm normal as I care for him and try to cheer him up. This lasts until I overhear him speaking to the psychologist at the clinic's door. "Work's been getting busy lately, and pretending to be depressed makes it inconvenient to deal with that. Can you change my diagnosis to manic disorder?" The psychologist giggles. "You have been quite manic lately, darling. You've been making me feel really sore down there." "I can make you feel even more sore now." Then, I hear moans and groans. It turns out everything I've done over the past five years is nothing but a joke. I pull up my conversation with Colin Foster. "I agree to undergo secluded treatment deep in the mountains abroad."