Short Stories & Novels

After his fated mate died, Alpha Killian Thorne spent ten years resenting me. I was the Omega healer he never chose—bound to him by duty, not love. A substitute. A scar on a bond neither of us asked for. No matter how deeply I healed his wounds, no matter how quietly I stayed by his side, all he ever said was: “If you really want to please me, Clara… then disappear.” But when death came charging, it wasn’t I who fell. He did. Bleeding out in my arms, Killian looked at me one last time and whispered: “If only I’d never met you…” At the funeral, his mother wept. “He should’ve been with Selena. I never should’ve let him mate with you.” His father’s glare cut through me. “Killian saved you three times. Why wasn’t it you in that grave?” Everyone regretted that he had bonded with me. Even I did, too. I was cast out of the pack with nothing— No title. No Luna severance. No den to call my own. And then… perhaps the Moon Goddess took pity on me. She gave me one final chance to rewrite fate. This time, I won’t beg for his love. This time, I won’t tether him to pain. This time, I’ll sever the bond before it begins. I could already hear the gears of fate turning, and this time, I would move first.

I gave him three years of my life, only to be treated as nothing more than a substitute—worse than a dog. When his so-called white moonlight returned, he kicked me aside without hesitation. Fine. I agreed to the family alliance and married the most powerful Alpha of the North. Now he regrets it, begging me to return? Too late. They plotted against me with wolfsbane, wanting me to die in a filthy wine cellar. But my Mate—the true King of the North—tore the entire estate apart just to save me. They tried to steal my Alpha bloodline with dark sorcery. I made them taste exile, cast out as Rogues, despised by all. And him? He knelt before me, begging for forgiveness. I leaned safely in my Mate’s arms and watched him be banished forever. “Ansel,” I told him coldly, “open your eyes. I am the one and only Luna of the North.”

In my previous life, my husband had suddenly died of a brain hemorrhage, leaving behind a massive mountain of debt. For the sake of my son, who was still in high school, I sold the house my parents had left me, gritted my teeth, and worked three jobs to pay off the debt. Overworked and exhausted, my health deteriorated, and I eventually collapsed in the hospital. From my bed, I could hear my son, now a graduate from a prestigious university, smiling as he spoke on the phone. "Hello? Dad, it's me. Yeah, she's about to die. I bought insurance for her, so we should get close to one million. You and Aunt Rena should come back home right away." The "Aunt Rena" he spoke of was none other than my husband's childhood friend and neighbor who had known him for years. It turned out that the debts were all part of a massive money-laundering scheme between my husband and his childhood sweetheart. They had fabricated false accounts to hide their crime, and he had faked his death to escape the law. My son, eager to become the heir to wealth, had stood by and watched me work myself to death. When I next opened my eyes, I was back in the moment of my husband's feigned brain hemorrhage, the day it had all begun.

In my previous life, my husband's female coworker had asked him to drive her to and from work. I wasn't happy about that, but my husband dismissed my concerns, saying, "We live in the same neighborhood, so it's not like I'm going out of my way. Don't be so selfish." Six months later, she became pregnant and tragically miscarried in our car. The doctor was baffled, saying, "How could she have intercourse in the early stages of pregnancy?" Intercourse? I was confused, as her husband was overseas on a business trip. Before I could fully process the situation, both my husband and his female coworker pointed their fingers at me and claimed that I was the driver during the incident. Because of that, when her husband rushed back from abroad, he stabbed me over twenty times in a fit of rage. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day before he first gave her a ride.

She used to be nothing but a bar girl. At a time where anyone could boss her around and take advantage of her, Bennett Spencer spent a fortune to make her his kept woman. Now, however, she's become the Jensen family's heiress and is engaged to the scion of the Gibson family. She's one step away from becoming the lady of an affluent family. The night before her wedding, Bennett shows up and has his way with her in every corner of her home, forcing her to remember the passion and lust they shared in the past. "I'm the only one who can make you do away with your chastity." His words make her descend into the throes of passion again.

I died on my birthday, but neither my parents nor my husband noticed. They were too busy pouring all their attention into planning my twin sister, Esme Shaw's, birthday party. While she was surrounded by people helping her pick out a gown, I was tied up and thrown into the basement. With what little strength I had left, I forced my broken fingers to press in the code—9395. It was a signal my husband, Edwin Grant, and I had once agreed on. It was a straightforward way to call for help in the event of danger. I never thought I would actually need it one day. But when I sent it, he didn't believe me. His reply was cold, "Claudia, just because I didn't take you shopping for a new dress, you've decided to put on a show? "You can still wear last year's gown. Stop making trouble. I'll see you at the party later." What he didn't know was that Esme had already shredded that gown into pieces. And what he couldn't imagine was that the moment after he hung up, I was already gone. So, when the celebration began, I never appeared. But when everyone saw the birthday gift I had prepared for Esme ahead of time, the entire room lost its mind.

To test his loyalty, my stepsister, Wendy Lidell, drugged my childhood friend. Then, she shoved me into his room. Unable to watch Connor Gordon suffer, I willingly helped him through the night. In a fit of pique, Wendy ran off and married a cruel mafia don. I got pregnant, and Connor was forced to marry me. At that point, he started to despise me. During the ten long years of marriage, he treated me and our son coldly. But during a flood overseas, he sacrificed his life to get me and our son back on solid land. I failed to keep my grip on him. As he sank into the depths, he looked at me and said, “If we could redo everything, make sure you don’t help me that night.” Those words stung me greatly, and I fainted right away. When I next opened my eyes, I found that I had gone back in time. I had traveled back to the night when Wendy had drugged Connor and locked me in his room.

I went to pick up my older brother who was out at a gathering. That was when I overheard him ask Nathan, "Haven't you been dating someone? It's been so long, and I still haven't met her." I suddenly tensed up. Nathan and I had been together for three years, but we had always kept it a secret, so no one knew. Nathan replied lazily, "She's not my girlfriend, just a pastime. It's not like I plan to marry her." I clenched my fists and pushed the door open without hesitation.

When Dylan Sullivan took a new type of hallucinogen, I was forced to give myself to him to curb the effects. Innately fertile, I got pregnant, giving birth to fraternal twins—a boy and a girl—after marrying him. However, Dylan refused to let them call him daddy, drinking away the nights while staring at the picture of his one true love. Then, on our tenth anniversary, he locked us up in the basement and burnt us to death. As it turns out, he remained hung up on that moment when I saved him all this time, stubbornly convinced I intervened when he was vulnerable to satisfy my ambitions. That in turn drove a rift between himself and his one true love, whose heartbreak led to psychosis and the accident that killed her. But I somehow opened my eyes to find myself alive, returning to the day Dylan took the hallucinogen by mistake. This time, I let his one true love have him, while I headed towards the study…

Ever since I got pregnant, my husband hadn’t touched me. However, to my embarrassment, my body had only grown more sensitive. Every night, I would find myself craving for touch, unable to stop my mind from wandering to all kinds of fantasies, that was until the night a masked man broke into my home.

When I was surrounded by the rogue pack far from our territory, I mind-linked my mate, Alpha Luke, begging for help. He refused me fifteen times—and finally, he blocked the link entirely. In the end, I collapsed from exhaustion and lost consciousness, my wolf howling in despair. When I woke up in the infirmary, Alex, the commander of the Werewolf Tribe, was sitting quietly beside me. He was the one who had received my desperate mind-link. He led his warriors, crushed the rogues, and saved me from the jaws of death. Looking into his worried eyes, I no longer hesitated. I took a deep breath and said with unwavering resolve: “Alex, I’ve made up my mind. I’ll go to the Northern Territory for training. I leave in 2 days.” Ten minutes later, Luke barged into the room with Kristy—his so-called adoptive sister—and our twin pups trailing behind. Before anyone could speak, he kicked the door open and pointed at me, shouting with cold fury: “You staged this stunt just to outshine Kristy? Do you realize how much warrior strength you wasted just to feed your vanity? You are not worthy to be a Luna!” My elder son, Chris, gave me a sharp glance and scoffed: “Where’s the wound, Mom? You look perfectly fine. Did you fake this just to get attention?” My younger son, Collin, stared at me, eyes filled with disappointment. He shook his head slowly and whispered: “Mom, did you lie to us again… just because we care about Kristy more?” Kristy gripped Luke’s hand, her voice trembling with fake innocence and tears falling down her cheeks: “I’m sorry, Christina… I won’t celebrate my birthday again. Please… stop causing trouble for Luke and the twins.” I clenched my fists, restraining my furious wolf, and stopped Alex from standing up for me. I watched the four of them turn and leave without a second glance. Then, I turned to Alex and said, with icy clarity: “This time, I have no hesitation, no regret. I’m leaving. I’ll go with you to the Northern Territory. And I won’t eat my words.”

In this life, I told my father I didn't want to marry Leon Williams. I'd rather marry his half-brother instead. My father was shocked—after all, everyone in town knew I had been obsessed with Leon for ten whole years. But in my previous life, I only discovered the truth as I lay dying in childbirth: the baby I carried wasn't even mine. It belonged to Leon and the struggling medical student he'd been secretly funding. The cruelest part? They conceived it using the drug I had developed. After my death, the three of them lived happily ever after as one perfect little family. So in this life, I'm willingly stepping aside for them. I'm curious to see how their love affair works out without my drug. What I never expected was Leon's reaction when he saw his brother's ring on my finger—he completely lost it.

I’m just a farmer’s wife, yet I’ve been suffering from an unbearable addiction. The frequent flare-ups have thrown our entire autumn harvest into chaos. With no other choice, I followed my husband, Tom Reed, to seek help from the new young town doctor, Dr. Cole Carter, but his method of treatment completely broke me…

My husband took our six-year-old son to meet his first love, using him as a cover. At some point, he sent our son to buy burn cream. My sweet boy then encountered a lunatic who stabbed him to death. The pain in my heart was unbearable. When I saw the burn cream still in my son's hand, I broke down in tears. Yet, my husband called to berate me, "Look at the son you've raised, Shayla Joy! He burned Claire and didn't even apologize. Get him back here right now!"

My husband, Mark Thompson, and I went hiking. After eating some wild berries I picked, he was poisoned and died. When I got home, a woman named Sarah Miller and her son, Tommy Miller, showed up at my door. It turned out Mark had given them our house and car. On top of that, he owed them a huge amount of money. I ended up giving them all the savings I had. To care for my sick mother-in-law, Judith Thompson, I worked three jobs. I was surviving on basic meals like bread and butter. After years of exhausting work, I collapsed in the hospital. Judith told the doctors to stop my treatment. Just as I was about to die, Mark walked into the ward with Sarah and Tommy in his arms. He tossed five dollars at me. “Thanks for taking care of my mom all these years.” That was when I realized Mark had faked his death just to be with Sarah and their love child. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day we went hiking together.

The housekeeper became my stepmother, and together with her son, they humiliated and murdered me. After being reborn, I exposed a video of her affair with her lover at her wedding, destroying her reputation completely. I watched as she and her son were kicked out. They left with nothing, wandering the streets like outcasts. I smiled and tossed a moldy piece of bread into their begging bowl. “This is all you deserve.”

The Sullivan brothers had always treated me like I was their whole world. That changed the day I was diagnosed with an aggressive brain tumor. The pain soon grew unbearable, and I was told I might lose my memories if I opted for surgery. I reached out to the brothers. I did not want to forget them, and I needed their help. However, when the call connected, the only thing I heard was an icy, sharp voice. "Summer, it's Yvonne's birthday today. Can you not ruin it for once?" I blacked out from the pain. When I woke up in the hospital, there was a message from Yvonne on my phone. "Summer, the boys gave me these lucky charms for protection." Attached was a photo of three silver pendants, each engraved with the brothers' initials. I knew those pendants well. I had spent seven hours in the freezing rain just to get them blessed. That was the moment I gave up. I went abroad alone for the surgery, and with it, all my memories of the brothers faded away. I completely forgot about them until one day, three strangers knocked on my door, begging like madmen for my forgiveness.

When my husband threatened me with divorce for the hundredth time, demanding I sacrifice myself for my sister, I did not cry or make a scene. I simply signed my name on the divorce papers and willingly handed over the man I had loved for ten years to my sister. A few days later, my sister spoke recklessly at a banquet and offended a powerful family. Once again, I stepped forward to take responsibility, bearing all the consequences in her place. When they later proposed that I become a test subject for my sister's drug research, I gladly accepted. Mom and Dad said I had finally grown into someone mature and responsible. Even my cold husband stood by my hospital bed and, for the first time in so long, gently stroked my cheek. He said tenderly, "Don't be afraid. The experiment won't be life-threatening. When you get out, I'll cook you a big meal." However, he did not know that regardless of whether the experiment was dangerous or not, he did not have to wait for me because I was already dying from a terminal illness.

After my fiance’s childhood friend found out I was born with a heart condition, she secretly poured a high-dose energy drink into my champagne. The moment I drank it, my heart started racing, and stabbing pain spread through my chest. In a panic, I tore open my only emergency medication, but the water I used to take it had been swapped with strong lemon water. As soon as I drank it, my face went pale. I lost all strength and collapsed to the ground. “Lemon water’s full of vitamin C. It helps with hangovers and keeps you healthy.” Charlotte Whitmore laughed so hard she nearly doubled over. With her arms crossed, she looked at my fiance, Ethan Cross, the boss of the Rolling Stones. “Ethan, your fiancee’s acting is incredible! “I’ve been a doctor for years, and I’ve never seen anyone react like this to a little champagne and lemon water.” I bit my lip until I tasted blood. The pain made my eyes sting, and I clutched Ethan’s leg. “Honey, please, call an ambulance! I can’t take it anymore…” For a moment, his expression wavered, but the guests quickly cut in. “Come on, stop pretending! Nobody dies from a bit of champagne and lemon water.” “Yeah, you’re just jealous Charlotte got promoted and didn’t want to toast to her.” Ethan’s face turned cold again. He yanked my hand off and stepped away. “Charlotte’s a doctor. You’ll be fine with her here.” I stopped begging and texted my father asking for help.

Some time ago, I was a delivery boy. One day, I received an order to deliver adult toys. When I went to the hotel room, I found a beautiful woman kneeling on a bed with her back turned to me. She only wore a thong. At that moment, I received a message on the delivery app. "Use the toys to bring her pleasure. If you do well, I will reward you with one hundred thousand dollars."