Tragic Love Short Stories & Ruthless Karma Novels

At one in the morning, my husband Grayson's phone lit up. A message from Leah popped up on the screen: [I sprained my ankle during rehearsal. It hurts so bad I can't sleep. Can you come hold me?] Watching Grayson throw on his clothes, I leaned back against the headboard and nearly laughed out loud. She was pouting in the middle of the night and making a married man drive halfway across Seattle to take care of her. For a twenty-two-year-old dance academy intern, she really wasn't very considerate. At least nowhere near as thoughtful as a certain sports science major I knew. That evening, Nolan had just gotten his professional motorcycle racing license and ridden his new bike across the bay to deliver the silver-gray heels I needed for tomorrow's board meeting right to my office building. Before he left, he'd pinned me between the car door and his chest in the parking garage and kissed me until my knees went weak.

After my twin sister Harper died, my Alpha mate hated me for ten years. For a whole decade, I was his Luna, and I tried every possible way to be good to him. One day, he said, “If you really want to please me so much, then just die.” So when a truck was coming at me, I didn’t even move, but I had never expected that Noah would push me out of the way to save me. He was badly injured. Before he died, he looked at me and whispered, “Charlotte, if only I had never met you, everything would have been better.” At Noah’s funeral, all the elders and members of the pack came. “I should have let Noah choose Harper as his Luna. I regret forcing him to choose you back then. You killed him!” Noah’s mother was overcome with grief. Noah’s father also said, “You know? Noah saved your life three times! He was such a kind-hearted Alpha. Why didn’t you die instead?” Everyone at the funeral stared at me with blame. Finally, I was thrown out of the funeral, lost and devastated. Three years later, with the help of a witch, I returned to the past through her spell. This time, I have made a decision. No matter what, I will never be Noah’s Luna again.

I did not get pregnant in the five years that I was married to Julian Gunter. He claimed that there was something wrong with his body and asked me not to leave him. But one day, I was sent to the hospital because of a stomach ache and continuous bleeding. A nurse came in and gave me an injection. She muttered impatiently, “Can’t you hold yourself back? You’re pregnant, but you had such vigorous love making. It serves you right that you lost your baby.” I endured the pain and walked out. “Mr. Gunter wanted Mrs. Gunter to have a permanent contraceptive injection after her fifth miscarriage. Don’t worry. Mr. Gunter has a way around it.” “The heir of Gunter Group can only be Mr. Jack Gunter.” Jack was the son of Julian’s sister-in-law.

Lena Clermont fell hard for her dad's friend, Andrew Rohan—twelve years older. The first time she saw him, he was all sharp suits and broad shoulders, effortlessly standing out. He smiled, patted her head, and handed her a princess dress. Fast forward to twenty. He got drugged at a banquet. She wore that same dress, offering herself as the cure.

At one of the exclusive private casino parties, my eyes landed on a diamond tiara. The catch? It was the prize for a high-stakes blackjack game. Luckily, poker happens to be one of my many sins. A girl named Elara—whom I once pitied enough to introduce to Throne, hoping she’d land a job—has now declared she wants the tiara too. Naïve. Probably thought beginner’s luck was a real thing. I figured, fine. Let the cards decide. If I win, I walk away with the tiara. If I lose, I’ll find another way to soothe my pride. Easy enough. Thorne, my ever-watchful husband, leaned in and murmured, “Go easy on her.” I didn’t. I won. Beat the dealer faster than her and won the tiara. That girl cried at the table. Thorne didn’t look impressed for once. He rather seemed... irritated. I thought it was for Elara’s sake. Turns out, it was for mine. A year later, same party, different stakes. The grand prize? My own sex video. While holding Elara in his arms, my husband said to me, voice almost amusing, “Don’t you like winning prizes? Then go on. Win our sex tape back.”

My mom ended up in a vegetable state because my husband's childhood sweetheart hit her while drunk driving. When the police asked her to take a breathalyzer, Sarah swore she hadn't drunk anything and dared them to draw her blood for a test. At the hospital, James faked the test results. He staked his career on it, producing a clean report that cleared her of driving under the influence. The day she walked free, he went to pick her up. I screamed at him, "Don't you know she hit my mom?" He shrugged. "Margaret is not dead. She'll wake up, okay? Why are you freaking out, trying to ruin Sarah's life? Will that make you happy?"

My ex-boyfriend, the Don's heir, was getting married today. In the grand reception hall, the bride, Elena, moved through the crowd with a champagne flute in hand, toasting the bosses and captains who'd flown in from across the island. In the dressing room, Luca had me pinned against the gown the bride had just changed out of, fucking me hard. The mirror gave me back a stranger, hair tangled, not a stitch of clothing left on me, my neck covered in marks he'd left like a signature. The camera on the side table blinked red. Three knocks at the door. Luca stood up, straightened the white rose boutonniere on his lapel, picked up the black earpiece from the table and pressed it in. He tossed it at me without looking. "One night. Half a million euros. Anna, you're even pricier than I remembered." I watched his back as he walked out, and picked up the check with shaking hands. Rosa, don't be scared. Mama's got the money to save you.

After being forced to donate the blood from my heart to my Alpha's beloved witch, I die in the cottage that he'd built for me. Before my death, my five-year-old daughter runs to the castle in the forest to beg him thrice. The first time, she runs into the study and tells him I'm coughing up blood. My mate, Alpha Alaric sneers. "Is this one of Clara's new tricks? I can't believe she taught a child to lie!" He orders his attendant to take our daughter away. The second time, she knocks on the door cautiously and tells him I'm trembling all over. Alaric snorts contemptuously. "What's with the act? All I did was take some of her blood, not gouge her heart out. She'll heal on her own soon enough!" Once again, his attendant chases our daughter out. The third time, she kneels by the study door and weeps, saying that I'm already unconscious. She begs Alaric to save me. This time, he gets mad. He grabs her by the arm and throws her out of the castle. "I told you your mother won't die! Lie to me again, and I'll kick her out of the Wolffang Pack. She can die at the hands of those Rogues!" He breaks her arm in the process, and she clutches it. She has no choice but to pass the family heirloom—a ring—that represents her identity as the Wolffang Pack's heiress to a passing merchant. "I can give you everything valuable I have, Mr. Merchant! I don't want to be an heiress—I just want my mother to stay alive!" The merchant accepts the ring and soon brings a herbalist. However, Alaric's beloved witch, Elena has him taken away. "Sorry, but your father is worried that I'll be upset because my darling black cat is sick. He's ordered all of the herbalists in the pack to focus on treating my cat first." She snorts. "Your mother can wait."

I stayed by William Gavin's side for three years and proposed to him three times. He rejected me each time. With a look of utter disdain, he said, "Every time I see that scar on Whitney Spencer's stomach, I remember the baby that died in there. It just makes me think she's dirty." The words pierced my heart like a knife. And yet, I still asked him to marry me a fourth time.

The house was on fire. My husband–a firefighter–rescued our son first. And the kitten his first love had left behind. Then, to comfort the frightened woman, he rushed off without a second thought. When his colleagues asked my son if anyone else was still inside, he glanced in my direction… and shook his head. "There's no one else." I was later found screaming for help, barely alive. Outside my hospital room, my son looked at me with disappointment. "Why didn't you just burn to death in there? "If you were gone, Aunt Maya could be my mom."

Three years ago, to save his lover Vivian’s son, Alpha Alexander personally drained the life essence from our five-year-old daughter. I fought like a cornered animal to stop him, but Vivian’s rogue wolves broke my legs, carved away my Luna tattoo, and left me for dead in the pack’s Forbidden Zone. Three years later, the boy, Oliver, suffered a relapse of his Bloodline Decay. Only then did Alexander remember we ever existed. He cast a net far and wide, determined to drag my daughter and me back to serve as a living battery for Oliver. But this time, he was in for a bitter disappointment. Because my daughter, Mia, and I were already dead.

There's an earthquake. I'm trapped underneath the debris with another young woman. "This woman's chest has been pierced by a steel bar. We have to save her immediately." The rescuers start to approach me when my husband, Quintus Ford, suddenly darts in the other direction. "She's pregnant! Save her first!" I look at him to see him staring at the other young woman in panic. He doesn't know I'm pregnant, too. The doctor who's trying to stop my bleeding shouts, "I can't stop her bleeding! I suspect she has a blood clotting disorder!" I force myself to nod and look at Quintus desperately. However, he says, "I'm her husband. I'll bear the responsibility if anything goes wrong."

Yvonne Xander had three of her ribs broken before she finally managed to escape from the mental asylum. After she escaped, the first thing she did was to sign the agreement to donate her body after her death. “Miss Xander, we must let you know that this is a special donation. Your body will be used to test a new chemical reagent. By then, there might be nothing of you left.” Yvonne pressed down on her aching chest. Her broken ribs made her voice sound like a broken ventilator. With great difficulty, she grimaced. “Just what I want.”

For five years, I was married to Joshua Grayson. He was known as the gentleman of the tech industry and was never arrogant. In fact, he was always cool and collected. A shame we never had any children of our own. I asked every single doctor I could get my hands on, but nothing helped. For that, I kept beating myself up. Joshua told me that it was fine if we had no children, and that what mattered was that our souls were perfect for each other. We did not need any children to secure our bonds. I believed him. And then I found an unsealed box of Plan B in a secret space in his study. It looked exactly the same as the vitamin tablets he fed me all the time. A phone sat under the box. The screen was a photo of him with his top secretary, Yvonne Wellington. It was a family of three. Then, a message popped up on the screen. 'Our girl's born, Joshua! Haven't thought of her full name yet, so we'll call her Cece for now.' 'Oh, right, you fed your wife contraceptives for five years. Now that we have a perfect family, you should kick her out and make me your wife instead. When's that going to happen?' The message hit me like a lightning bolt that came out of nowhere. To think I wasted five years beating myself up for never getting a baby. To think I looked forward to one. And now, everything was crumbling around me.

Alaric and I had been mates for five years, and I had believed with all my heart that I would become the first female Gamma of the pack by proving myself in the warrior’s trial. I had trained relentlessly, sharpening my claws and honing my instincts, ready to fight for my rightful place. But fate had other plans. Three days before the trial, I was ambushed by rogues. They didn't just attack me—they hunted me like prey. They tormented me with the silver knife so that my wolf was dead. The scent of death clung to me, my wolf howling in agony, desperately trying to heal, but the wounds ran too deep. As I lay barely conscious on the blood-stained sheets, I heard my husband's cold, indifferent voice. "Is she dead?" The witch doctor hesitated before answering, "No, but—" "It doesn’t matter," Alaric interrupted, Coat her wounds with wolfsbane and silver—make sure it seeps into her blood, burns through her veins, and poisons her wolf beyond repair. I want her body to reject her own nature, so she will never heal. There will only be one Gamma in this pack, and that's Serina." In that moment, the truth became clear—I had never truly stood a chance in the warrior’s trial I had dreamed of. The battle had been decided long before I ever stepped into the arena.

My pup Asher had been sick for six months. Every time I personally cared for him, he became even sicker. I finally believed the witch's prophecy: I was cursed. My very existence would harm my own pup. I went to the moon temple and prayed that the moon goddess would lift the curse and ensure my pup's safety. From then on, my Alpha mate Damon brought Asher up the mountain every day to see me. Hundreds of miles of mountain road. They made the trip over a thousand times. Our bond never faded with the distance. Until today. A group of rogues broke into the Sanctuary and pushed me down the stone steps. I called Damon all night. No one answered. Then I received an anonymous video. Damon knelt in front of a woman, kissing her swollen belly. Asher stood next to them, grinning ear to ear. "I'm gonna have a brother! Aunt Serena, your pregnancy must have been so tough. Me and Dad will be your knights forever." He turned to Damon, his young face bright with pride. "Dad, I faked being sick pretty well, right? Pretending to feel awful every day, tricking Mom into taking me to the Healer over and over. They never found anything wrong, and she really believed that curse stuff. Went up the mountain all on her own." "But what if Mom finds out? Won't she be mad?" Damon didn't seem worried. "Don't worry. I've got the whole mountain sealed off. She won't find out." Only then did I understand. Everything had been a lie, planned by my mate and my son. I turned around and knocked over the Hope Flame that I had lit for Asher without hesitation. This flame was lit at the cost of my wolf’s strength, offered to the Moon Goddess so that she might bless Asher with health. Through the flames, a familiar figure sprinted toward me.

My fiancé's first love was taking photos on a cliff before the landslide. To save her, he actually left me behind on the crumbling edge. I pleaded with him to save me. "Lucy isn't physically strong—she can't handle this alone. You've always been resilient. I'll get Lucy to safety first, then come back for you." Their silhouettes vanished over the ridge. After a brief commotion, everything went silent. Including me, with my freshly sprained ankle. When he saw the news of my death, he completely fell apart.

Conned by Francis Slade, I sold my kidney to raise funds for his failed investment. And the house was bought with all my savings. But now, it had become their love nest. "Ms. Lane, you look like you were rolling around in a mud pit. What happened to you?" Whitney Jones smiled smugly. My already injured body trembled with anger when I saw her smug expression. Forcing myself to remain calm, I answered, "This is my home. What are you doing here?" In response, Francis glared at me angrily. "Whitney caught a cold, so I invited her over to take a hot shower. Can't you even tolerate such small acts of kindness?" Whitney had accidentally stepped on blood that was flowing from my leg. She instinctively grabbed Francis out of fear. With a trembling voice, she told him, "Francis, I think she's injured." I knew Francis thought I was just trying to gain his sympathy again. "Alright now, Whitney will be sleeping in your room tonight. Once you're done with the act, go clean yourself up and set up a bed for her." If she was after my room, she could have it. If she was after the man who never loved me, she could have him.

My daughter accidentally scratched my husband's young mistress's face with her nails. For that, my husband had her fingers chopped off. Covered in blood, she came home seeking help, only to be assaulted by an intruder. I called my husband, crying, but his mistress's sweet voice answered the phone. "Stop using these lowly tricks to get Jack's attention. All you're doing is making him sick!" I begged my husband to take my call, but all I got in return was a barrage of insults. "Nothing is more important than Yvonne's face! I'm busy taking her to the hospital! I don't have time for your drama!" Later, my daughter's organs were removed by the intruder. Even in death, she was still tightly holding onto the birthday gift she had prepared for her father. My husband, a top lawyer, personally defended the criminal who assaulted our daughter. He let that man walk away scot-free after what he had done. On the day he celebrated his birthday with all our relatives, he finally knew that our daughter had died. He completely lost his mind.

His precious childhood sweetheart got drunk one night and ended up in a stranger’s bed. When she showed up again, she was pregnant—just like me. On the day I gave birth, Harold handed me the divorce papers. "Rachel’s about to return to acting," he said coldly. "She and the baby need a proper title. If a scandal breaks out, it’ll destroy her." Dragging my frail body, I calmly signed the papers. In my previous life, I refused to step aside. I went live, holding my daughter, and exposed the award-winning actress Rachel Underwood for knowingly becoming the other woman. The internet turned on her. She lost every endorsement and was driven to the edge by massive fines—eventually jumping off a building. Harold quietly took care of her funeral... and then stood by as her fans harassed me in the streets, even tried to burn my child and me alive. It was not until I saw him lock the door behind us that I realized—he had wanted us dead all along. Then I woke up. And it was the day he gave me the divorce agreement... again.