Feel-Good Story Regret Short Stories & Novels

I had been in an online relationship with Alpha Steve for five years without ever meeting him in person. We made plans to meet in person three times. Each time, my voice locked up and I ran away. The fourth time, I finally pushed open the hotel room door. Rose petals covered the bed, but Steve had his arm around another woman. He said, "Lavinia, you stood me up three times. How am I supposed to know you're really who you say you are—or even what you look like? So I brought Caroline instead!" Right in front of me, Steve pressed closer to Caroline. I could even see the mark on her neck. A chill ran through me. My voice locked up, and all I could do was pull out my phone and type, "Then what were our five years?" Caroline leaned on his shoulder and laughed softly. "So she really is mute. Five years of talking to you must have worn Steve out." I stood there for a few seconds. Then I laughed. If he could replace his date, I could replace mine. I turned, walked out of the room, and grabbed the first man who passed by. I had no idea at the time that he was the Alpha King!

My grandma and I were on a perfect beach in Golden Bay. The sun warmed my skin, the sand was soft beneath my feet, and she was resting peacefully nearby. Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through my mind. A mind link. It was Brenda. Assistant to my mate, Gideon, the Alpha Heir. The image she sent was horrifying. An old woman in simple clothes, lying in a pool of her own blood. Deep gashes, down to the bone, from a silver-laced weapon. Brenda's voice echoed in my head, dripping with arrogance. “Cora, do you Omegas do anything but freeload?” “Gideon just bought this estate, and you’re already letting your pack-leeching relatives squat here? As the Alpha’s assistant, it's my duty to protect his land from trespassers.” “This is what happens when you trespass on an Alpha’s private property!” I froze. I looked over at the sun umbrella. My grandma, Maria, was napping peacefully. I replayed the image from the link. My blood ran cold. That face… bloody and broken, but I knew it. I would never mistake it. It wasn't my grandmother. It was Eleonora. Gideon’s grandmother. A rival pack had attacked her months ago. Her wolf was weakened. She was in a pack clinic. Her mind-link was damaged. She could only receive, not send. Today… she was supposed to come home. I pushed back against the link with all my strength. “Brenda, are you insane? Look who you hit! That's Eleonora! Gideon's grandmother!” Brenda cut the link. Her last words were cold and stupid. “Gideon made it clear. Your family is your problem. His family is his. He doesn’t claim trash like them.”

My mate, Andrew Claude, is the Alpha of the Celestial Pack, the sworn rival of my father’s Venus Pack. For three years, we have hidden our bond, knowing that our union could either bring peace between the packs or ignite war. On Lunar Year's Eve, beneath the full moon’s silver glow, we stand on the castle terrace, whispering promises of our future. Tonight, we finally agree to perform our bonding ritual, sealing our fates before revealing our love to our parents. My wolf stirs in anticipation, her instincts urging me toward him. But then, Andrew leaps down into the grand fire-dance festival, his powerful wolf form shifting mid-air before landing in a flourish. The scent of burning pine and roasted venison fills the air, warriors howling in celebration. The pack’s bonfire crackles with enchanted flames, casting shadows of prowling wolves against the towering stone walls. I watch from above, heart pounding with joy—until my smile fades. In the heart of the revelry, Carol Sinclair, an Omega maid, clutches a bundle of enchanted fireworks. Andrew strides to her, a warm, easy grin on his face. With a flick of his fingers, golden flames dance from his palms, sparking the firework in her hands. "A little fire magic to help you, Carol," he chuckles. She gasps in admiration, giggling as the firework ignites—only for it to spiral out of control. It veers wildly, the enchanted embers lashing through the air. Searing pain blooms across my arm. The stench of burning flesh fills my nose. I barely react before Carol bursts into tears and flees into the crowd. Before I can speak, Andrew turns on me, his golden eyes flashing with rage. The onlookers fall silent, ears twitching to catch their Alpha’s words. “Did you bully her, Bella?” His growl rumbles deep in his chest. “Just because you’re an Alpha’s heir doesn’t mean you can do whatever you want!” The warriors glance at each other, their tails stiff with tension. I stagger back, stunned. He doesn’t even ask if I’m hurt.

Before the wedding began, Rosien Valmont, the vampire prince, chained me to the blood altar. A dagger carved with a blood curse was pressed against my heart. "Give Bertha your blood one more time and I'll honor the blood pact. Otherwise the wedding is off." Rosien and I had loved each other for 200 years. He swore in front of the whole clan that he would make me his princess. Then, three years ago, everything changed when he brought Bertha Bell, a dying human, home. Whenever her illness flared, Rosien cut open my chest to draw my blood. On every full moon, pain ripped through my body as though my flesh were being torn apart. Bertha Bell lay pale in his arms. "Rosien, let it go! Katherine has waited a long time for this wedding. If she doesn't want to, I don't mind dying." When he looked at me again, there was nothing in his eyes but impatience. "Bertha saved my life. You're only giving up a few drops of blood." He pushed the dagger in another inch. "You begged for this wedding in the first place. I can call it off whenever I want. But if you're willing to give Bertha your blood, I'll still make you my princess." I looked down at the ring on my finger and laughed softly. "One last time." Rosien had no idea that this was the 99th time he had taken my blood. In three days, when the blood moon rose, the Founder bloodline sealed within me would fully awaken. I would take control of the clan.

I’d just set sail to escort the cargo to the border when a Category 8 typhoon warning suddenly blared. I steer the ship back in the direction of the harbor, only to realize that the ship has run out of fuel. The distress beacon has been dismantled, too. Immediately, I pick up the radio and call the maritime rescuers for help. As soon as the call gets connected, I hear my wife, Melanie Watkins' mocking laughter instead. "I've already rewired the emergency number so that you can never reach the rescuers. Have fun surviving in the ocean!" Her student, Darell Parker, is with her as well. "Remember when you made fun of me for not knowing how to swim, Clifton? Well, now you're given the chance to show off your swimming skills! You can swim all the way back to the shore on your own! You'd better not be as slow as the sea turtles!" The waves have almost capsized the cargo ship. If I can't get rescued anytime soon, I'll end up dying in the sea. I can only grit my teeth before pleading to Melanie, "No one can possibly swim back to shore! Help me call the maritime rescuers—" But she laughs coldly in return. "Why do you need the rescuers' help? Didn't you say one must learn how to protect themselves? Now swim! "If you think the waters are too cold, then swim faster! Maybe you'll feel warmer the faster you swim!" I give up on arguing with Melanie. After that, I head toward the cargo area with a blade in hand and get ready to sever the ropes tying the cargo down. Said cargo contains the ransom money that's capable of saving Ella Zimmerman, the daughter of Hugh Zimmerman, the wealthiest man in Starbury.

The new intern, Cynthia Joller, had posted about me online, claiming the company had made them use their leave for team building. No one wanted to fly all the way to an island to spend time with colleagues. However, what the internet did not know was that our company's team-building tradition involved booking a top-notch five-star resort every year: all-inclusive, family-friendly, with an extra three days of paid leave, and a $30,000 budget per person. The whole internet dubbed me a cold-blooded capitalist, so I decided to give in to their demands and issued a notice. [In response to employee feedback and to honor personal time, this year's team-building retreat has been canceled. Instead, a $500 allowance for personal travel will be provided.] The notice stirred up a commotion in the company. Long-time employees gathered at my office door, pleading for the return of the sunny Madiles retreat.

After my wife, Princess Keisha Peyton, spent a reckless night with her adopted brother, I chose to abandon her and our child and return to my original world. But the next year, the system suddenly came to find me. [Host... could you go back for a while? The target has been trying to break through dimensions to find you. And your child... he's also a bit mentally unstable...] I looked down at the cancer diagnosis I had just received and sighed. "Fine. I'll go back." When I returned, I became the perfect prince consort. I no longer demanded monogamy. Instead, I even started actively selecting male companions to bring into Keisha's household. I also dismissed the tutors who had been pushing my son to study, allowing him to join the military camps while he was still young. I rarely went out and kept the princess's estate running flawlessly. But when Keisha saw all this, she went crazy—smashing every ornament in the room. "I already sent Gregory away," she said. "What are you trying to do, tormenting me like this?" Our son, Thomas Peyton, stood there tearfully. "I'll never say again that Mother can have many male companions because she's a princess. And I'll never mention Gregory again either. Father, please stop making a scene, okay?"

I was the useless rogue Omega Alpha Nolan Frost had brought home. I had no wolf form or fighting skills, and my sense of smell was no better than an ordinary human's. Everyone in the pack thought my pretty face was the only reason I'd found a place there. "A useless thing like you would be torn to pieces the moment you left the Alpha!" What they didn't know was that I was the Judge the Moon Goddess herself had chosen. I'd spent 60 years at my last job, settling one petty werewolf squabble after another until I was so exhausted that even my hair had turned white. Now I was retired and living as a pampered pet. No more of that nonsense. Just an endless supply of the finest food and luxuries. Life couldn't have been better. Until the pack came under siege. Nolan's father was gravely wounded, and his two older brothers were locked in silver cages and tortured. Even Nolan was being forced to sign a blood sacrifice pact, trading his life for his people's safety. The enemy Alpha sized me up and sneered. "Don't worry, Nolan. Once you're dead, I'll take good care of this useless pet for you." I studied the ugly Alpha before me. This was a problem. Nolan was the most handsome young Alpha I'd ever seen. If they tortured him to death, I'd be very unhappy. Just before Nolan was forced to sign the blood sacrifice pact, I stopped holding back my aura, and the Moon Goddess's mark appeared on my forehead. In an instant, all the werewolves there dropped to their knees, trembling. I looked at them coldly. "Who gave you the nerve to disturb my peace?"

Near the end of the year, my best friend, Bethany Greer, and I decide to buy matching gold-plated bangles from Temu for ten dollars just to keep up appearances. The moment we open the package, we both freeze in shock. The heavy weight in our hands and the dazzling shine of pure gold practically scream luxury and authenticity. My hands tremble as I quickly snap a photo and message the seller. I text, "There seems to be something wrong with this order." The seller replies instantly, sounding incredibly arrogant. "Why did you only say something is wrong only after you received it? What were you doing earlier?" I try to send photos as proof. "No, seriously, look at what I'm holding first. I ordered fake bangles..." The seller does not even look at the pictures and immediately sends a voice message in an incredibly rude tone. "I don't care what you order! Once the package is opened, there's no seven-day return policy! Even if it rots in your hands, that's your problem! Don't try making excuses to scam stuff for free. Once the packaging is opened, it belongs to you. Not even the Almighty can help you return it! "And if you dare spread nonsense, I'll report you for posting malicious reviews!" I stare thoughtfully at the gold bangle on my wrist that is worth thousands of dollars. Well, since he insists so strongly, I guess I'll reluctantly keep it. I just hope he doesn't regret it when he realizes the real bangle is missing!

At the contract-signing meeting, a major client casually asks our new technician if she can handle her alcohol. She immediately pours a glass of red wine over his head and says coolly, "This sort of socializing is a bad habit. I'm putting an end to it." Leon Langley, a top client who brings the company 300 million dollars in annual revenue, flies into a rage and tears up the contract on the spot. As the project lead, I bend over backward to apologize and drink with Mr. Langley until I'm hospitalized with gastric bleeding—just to salvage the deal. When I report the incident to my boss, he scolds me instead. "As the person in charge, you nearly ruined the project. Forget the three-million-dollar commission we planned to give you. Consider this a warning." After that, I put Hannah Storrie's name on the department's downsizing review list. She sneers. "I'm a top talent the boss poached at great expense. I'm not some cheap hostess who survives by smiling and drinking like you. "Firing me would be throwing the company down the drain. When that happens, you'll be begging me to come back." I ignore her. However, when the review period ends, the name on the layoff list turns out to be mine. My boss seizes the opportunity to announce that Hannah will replace me as the new sales director. "Clients are extremely important to us. You don't seriously think you're capable of landing them, do you? "Hannah's is more qualified, more tech-savvy, and prettier than you. She's clearly the better choice." I simply smile, turn around, and dial a number.

My parents, Morris Lester and Andrea Smith, got a divorce. My younger brother, Ian Lester, goes with my mother, who marries into money, while I stay with my father, who has just gone bankrupt. However, fate has a twisted sense of humor. My mother remarries Mark Laurent, an abusive man, and her life spirals downward. My father, on the other hand, pulls himself together and builds a successful business from the ground up. Ian becomes green with jealousy. He pretends to be pitiful, begs me to take him shopping, and drives us straight into a car crash that kills us both. When I open my eyes again, we're back on the day our parents file a divorce. This time, Ian pipes up, "I want to stay with Dad and make a better life together!" I keep a straight face, but deep down, I'm over the moon. I, Ethan Lester, refuse to spend another lifetime living like a fugitive.

After my family and I are dragged into a roguelike horror simulation, they favor my cousin, Julian Clark, over me. In a lobby of blood-soaked players, he always manages to stay spotless, earning their praise as someone who has "kept his humanity". He's unlike me, the brute who willingly throws himself into melee combat and hacks down monsters just to keep everyone else alive. During one dungeon run, a terrifying entity targets my younger sister, Millie Larsson. I draw my blade and move in for the kill, but Julian stops me with a sorrowful smile. "Every creature has a soul. Gabriel, if you kill it, you'll only enrage it and burden Millie with the sin of bloodshed." Millie believes all the nonsense he says and begins resenting me for interfering. Later, when a veteran player steals Julian's life-saving loot drop, I nearly die reclaiming it for him. Instead of thanking me, he takes pity on the woman robbing him and hands the item back to her. He condemns me for being too ruthless, claiming I know nothing about showing mercy to women. Then comes the advanced raid. Cornered by the final boss, I beg Julian to activate the high-tier talisman I've given him, buying me just one second to escape. He recoils from my bloodstained hand in disgust and turns to my parents instead. "Gabriel provoked the boss himself. He's too violent. I can't risk wiping the whole party just to save him." In the end, I die in the boss' jaws. Julian steps over my shattered bones and blood to clear the raid, eventually becoming the server's most celebrated player for being the Untainted Saint. But fate grants me a second chance. I awaken once more in the game's central lobby, right before everything begins. This time, I want to see how long their precious humanity lasts in a world overrun by horrors when the blood-soaked blade that always carries their party is no longer there to protect them.

A week before our engagement, I finally learned that the man Madison Clarke had always secretly loved... was me. Overjoyed, I hurried to sign to her, wanting to tell her that I was LeoWinter—the gaming partner she'd been coupled with online. What I got in return was ridicule. "Charlie, how does a mute guy like you manage to pull so many tricks?" "LeoWinter already told me his account got stolen. He switched accounts ages ago. And you still want to pretend you're him?" It felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over my head. My entire body went rigid. She had forgotten that this game ID was permanently bound to the account. It was impossible for it to be stolen.

When my boyfriend told me he had failed the college entrance exams, he begged me to apply to a vocational college with him. I was about to say yes when a barrage of floating comments suddenly appeared in front of my eyes. [The male lead deserves an Oscar. Since when is 680 considered a bad score? He was literally touring Kingston University with the real heiress just moments ago.] [Don't fall for it! You're the top scorer in the entire state! He only wants to drag you down so the real heiress can shine.] [There's no point warning her. She's completely blinded by love. A provincial champion wasting her future at a vocational college... she'll end up abandoned by her family, framed into debt by the real heiress, forced to drop out, and stuck running a roadside stall for the rest of her life.] My hand froze midair. In an instant, all the blood drained from my body.

On the morning of my wedding, a man in a groom's suit showed up at my door. Before anyone could speak, he walked in and told my stylist to do his hair first. My groomsmen and I had no idea what was happening. When we asked who he was, he looked me up and down and smirked. "Meredith didn't tell you? I'm the groom today. You're not needed. You already got your name on the marriage certificate, right? Count your blessings and take the hint." I held it together and called Meredith Soames. Her voice on the other end was as gentle as ever, but it made my stomach turn. "I should've told you about Royce. But he was the one who was there for me when I had nothing. The marriage is yours. Your name's on the certificate. Just let him have the ceremony." That was when I realized that in the past five years, I had never truly seen her for what she was.

The first thing I did when I came back to life was to pawn off my engagement to the Don of the Schroder family, Edmund, on my stepsister. In my last life, he used the "family rules" to make me give up the one thing I loved—racing. He threw out all my colorful dresses and turned me into his canary in a gilded cage. I died, suffocated and hopeless. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day the marriage contract was to be signed. I quietly switched my name with my stepsister Laura's and let Edmund sign the papers. He didn't forget to warn me, "Stay out of trouble. Our wedding is in three days. Be a good girl and wait for me to come get you." But he had no idea I'd already bought a fake ID and passport. In three days, I'd be gone. I'd be free.

Bored of having nothing to do at home, I hide my identity and apply for a job as a designer at the company my son, Jonathan Grady, runs. A few months later, I'm informed that the company wants to optimize its workforce, and I'm the first to get axed. "Why?" "Because you're menopausal. You can't get pregnant." Hearing that makes me scoff. What kind of absurd reason is that? "A designer uses her brains to do her job, no? When did a womb become so important?" I point at Sasha Johnson, who'd been hired before me and was now sitting at her desk, snacking on popcorn instead of working. "Her line compositions are still a complete mess, and she spends all of her time watching TV shows in the office. But just because she's pregnant, she's not included in the company's layoffs?" Fiona Lewis, the HR manager, looks at me as though I'm an idiot. "How can an old hag like you, who still has to work, compare yourself to her? She's pregnant with the boss' baby, you know. She's the future Mrs. Grady! The money we save from having to pay your salary can go toward buying her prenatal supplements." I freeze in shock. Did my son knock up one of his employees? But he told me he didn't want to have any kids!

My parents divorced when I was ten. I didn't want to be a burden to my mom, so I chose to stay with my dad and brothers back home. Dad spoiled me, and my brothers loved me. We were a happy family, and everyone treated me well. Then Dad remarried, and my stepsister, Chloe Dubois, moved in with us. Everything changed after that. Chloe was sweet and lovable, so she quickly took my place. The room my father, David Flanagan, had spent six months remodeling just for me became her private room. The strawberry cakes my oldest brother, Alex Flanagan, used to bring me every day were replaced with the mango pudding she loved. My second brother, Lucas Flanagan, even gave her his most treasured game console. I finally couldn't take it anymore when they gave Chloe the guaranteed college admission spot I had worked toward for an entire year. I confronted them. David sighed and said in a heavy voice, "As her older sister, shouldn't you be willing to give in to her?" Alex grabbed my wrist tightly and scolded me, "Stop making such a big deal over one admission spot. If word gets out, our family will be a laughingstock." Lucas frowned and took a step back. "She's already been through so much. Why do you have to make things harder for her?" I watched them comfort Chloe as she cried, and I felt completely hopeless. I went back to my room and pulled out a number I had saved a long time ago but had never dared to call. Then I pressed the call button. "Mom, you asked me before if I wanted to study abroad. I've made my decision. I want to go."

Three years after Alpha King Damien Caldwell marks me, Drake Whitaker finally remembers I exist. Turns out he really believes I'll "wait for him forever." Twenty black SUVs clog the private road into Ridgefield pack territory, trunks crammed with moonstone jewelry, old talismans, and rare herbs. Drake steps out of the tricked-out Hummer, wearing a smug smile and clutching a stack of parchment contracts. "Aria," he calls up, like some medieval knight, "I told you once the Silvermoon Coalition was official and Kenneth's supply lines were stable, I'd bring you to my pack. "The High Council finalized five packs yesterday. I came first thing this morning to show you I mean it." I sit in the upstairs study, watching a video Damien just sent of him playing with our son, then glance through the blinds at the ridiculous scene unfolding below. Drake lifts his face toward the second floor. "I know you're upset, but Kenneth controls the biggest timber in the Eastvale region. I had to mark Isabella. It was politics. You get that. Feelings don't need a mark anyway. I'll treat you better than a Luna." His words made my skin crawl. I pressed the intercom button on the desk. "Clear the drive. Tell security someone's trespassing." What a day! I've just taken my son to the medical center for his one-month checkup. Damien sends me back to Ridgefield pack for a week to rest. Instead, I get this mess on my doorstep.

Just before closing, the restaurant had one last serving of spaghetti with meat sauce left. I’d spent three years paying off my boyfriend’s debts to loan sharks. I hadn’t eaten all day and was finally about to dig in. But Jax Carter snatched the bowl away from me and carried it over to Camilla Price, the recently divorced owner of the flower shop next door. “Camilla’s got it tough raising a kid on her own. Skipping one meal won’t kill you.” The neighborhood lowlifes at the other tables whistled and hooted. “Jax and Camilla are a match made in heaven. They’ve both had it rough. Hurry up and shack up already!” “What a good guy Jax is, looking out for Camilla like that! It’s nice to see young people still care.” That night, a debt collector’s thug smashed a bottle over my head, and blood ran into my eyes. Jax didn’t even look at me. He was busy helping Camilla pick up the flowers that had been knocked over. I wiped the blood from my face. That was when it hit me: I’d wasted three years on a relationship worth less than a bowl of spaghetti. It was long past time to walk away.