Short Stories & Novels

Three months after the mysterious disappearance of my Alpha mate during his patrol, I found him in a bar near the border. He was cuddling his childhood friend, a she-wolf, laughing smugly. "I wanted to get rid of Bethany for ages! Thanks for giving me the idea to enjoy the freedom I've been looking forward to for a long time." The she-wolf nestled delicately against his chest, feeding him wine with her mouth. She asked him when he was planning to return—his answer was nonchalant. "I'll enjoy myself for another week and go back once Bethany's gone mad. That'll teach her not to be such a micromanager!" His close friends all praised them. "Great move! After this, the Luna will obey your every word." "The witch's disguise potion is so useful. No one recognized you all this time!" No one noticed me hiding in the shadows, watching how carefree he was. I called the pack's elder; using my position as the Luna, I announced that the Alpha was dead and that it was time to prepare for the election of the next Alpha.

I secretly invite my in-laws over for the New Year, hoping to surprise my husband, Huxley Carlson. But the moment my father-in-law steps through the door, Huxley's secretary shoves him out. He slams into the shoe cabinet, throwing out his back. She sneers. "Who do you beggars think you are, strolling into Mr. Carlson's villa like this? You're this broke and still have the nerve to call yourself his father-in-law?" I immediately call for the housekeeper to help him, but the secretary blocks her. She even shoves my mother-in-law. "You really think you're the lady of the house?" she snaps. "Mr. Carlson hired the housekeeper to serve him, not to waste time on you or your useless parents." My mother-in-law is so enraged that she suffers a heart attack on the spot. I call Huxley in a panic, begging him to come to the hospital. But he sounds utterly unmoved. His voice is cold and mocking as he says, "Jen told me what happened. The nerve of you, bringing your parents to my house! Now you want me to rush to the hospital because your mom's pretending to be sick? "Tell them to get out! If she dies, she dies. Hell, maybe it's a blessing—just in time for the New Year!"

I suspected my husband was a detached ascetic. Every night, he'd skip to the backyard, muttering prayers under the stars instead of sharing our bed. When I slipped into something slinky, he'd frown and clutch his prayer beads like a lifeline. Now I was done with the cold shoulder, slapping a divorce agreement in his hands. That was when his thoughts started leaking into my head. "She touched me. Her hands are like silk. I'm dying to kiss her. When is she gonna be okay with me being a snake? I just want to cuddle her." "A snake?" I thought. "Does that mean he's packing two things? I have to find out." I leered at his chiseled frame, practically drooling. Before divorcing, I needed to test his things and my limits. I tripped purposefully and fell onto his toned pecs, ready to test the waters. "Whoops!" I gasped, setting the stage.

On our third mating anniversary, I was shocked to discover that my mate Ethan Rivers had been spending nights with his childhood sweetheart, and even the mating certificate he gave me was fake. When I confronted him about it, Ethan coldly accused me of being ungrateful. "I performed the mating ritual with Bella to help her deal with her family's pressure to mate. How can you be so selfish?" "It's not like I don't love you. It's just a mating certificate - why are you making such a big deal out of it? I was planning to perform the real ritual with you this year, but I never expected you to be so greedy. Aria, you really disappoint me." I blocked him completely, and he immediately took Bella on their honeymoon. Five years later, we reunited at an elite pack gathering. His pack was thriving, and beside him stood Bella Rose, adorned in jewels with a perfect smile. Seeing me crouched on the ground searching through cake scraps in the trash, he clicked his tongue impatiently. "Look what you've become after leaving me. You scorned the fake certificate back then, but now even if you threw yourself at me, nobody would want you!" "For old times' sake, if you kneel down and apologize to Bella, I might let you come back as our servant." I had no time to deal with him. My son had mischievously hidden my eighty-million-dollar mating ring in some cake, and I needed to find it quickly. Otherwise, when his father arrived, the little one would be in trouble again.

The morning after their night together, Harper Sullivan froze with a sudden, sickening realization—Ryan Delgado hadn't used protection. Fear coiled tight in her chest, sharp and suffocating. But Ryan just smirked, his voice smooth, teasing, as if this were some kind of game. "Our families are enemies. A baby changes that. Your father would have to accept me. Then I could marry you—properly." Heat rushed to her cheeks. She should have pushed him away, should have demanded answers—but his touch still burned through her resistance, and she gave in to him. Then, like a knife to the ribs, she heard his friend's voice from the next room, laced with cruel amusement. "Ryan, that's genius. Get her pregnant, then dump her. Harper would never recover from the scandal. And her family? Total disgrace." Ryan let out a cold, satisfied laugh. "Serves her right. She stole Olivia's spot as valedictorian, broke her heart, drove her overseas. I'll make sure she pays—this is for Olivia." Harper's body went rigid. Three years. Three years of stolen moments, swallowed secrets, letting him touch her in the dark while her family believed her loyal. And it had all been a lie. Rage and humiliation crashed over her, so violent she nearly choked on it. Her phone buzzed in her trembling hand. Fighting back tears, she answered. "Dad… I'll take the engagement."

When the factory director’s son dragged my drunk fiancee into the supply warehouse, I pretended as if I did not see them. I just turned around and walked away. In the past, I had ruined my own future by rushing in and beating the factory director’s son up. I was even framed for stealing the supplies from the warehouse. When the warehouse keeper came over with the police officers, my fiancee deliberately ripped her own clothes. She cried and said that she came with the director to stop me from committing the crime, but I beat her up and even defiled her. Everyone despised me, and I became a criminal. My fiancee’s parents could not bear the rumors, and they forced me to marry her. But that marriage was only the start of a hellish life. She lived like a queen at home, yet she told everyone I was starving her. When she got pregnant, she deliberately pushed her belly against the corner of the table. Then, she stood in the courtyard and cried. She claimed I had abused her, and I wanted to kill my own baby. My parents felt bad for me, so they borrowed money from everyone they knew to get her a job. But when she landed on the job, she framed my father for stealing the steel from the factory. Half a year after my father was imprisoned, he passed away in jail due to an illness. My mother could not bear the stress and fell severely ill. She also passed away soon after. When I was pinned under the collapsed brick wall at the construction site, she did not call for help. Instead, she picked up a brick and smashed it into my head. “If you were not so nosy, Jeremy and I’d have been together already. We wouldn’t have wasted so much time!” My head bled, and I was buried beneath a pile of rubble. When I opened my eyes again, I was at the entrance of the supply warehouse. From inside, I heard my fiancee’s soft, teasing murmurs.

My ex-husband Giacomo and my brother's widow, Zoya, are the reason I went to prison. Seven years. Gone. I crunched leaves on the way to Carlo's grave and—of course—they're there. Together. Right in front of his headstone. "Jessica?" His voice shook. Fake surprise. He wiped his eye like that meant something. "I've been looking for you for seven years. I thought you... were gone. "Where have you been all these years? Why didn't you ever contact me?" I said nothing. He kept going. "You're still mad about what happened? I had my reasons." 'Reasons?' I looked at him. Almost laughed. He and Carlo's woman killed Carlo. Framed me, kicked me out, and sent me to prison. He took half my life. And now he's talking about reasons—standing at Carlo's grave. But seven years of torment burned everything down. Love. Hate. All of it.

The Langston brothers once vowed that they wouldn't marry anyone but me. However, when it's time for me to pick one of them as my husband, they both turn me down. Nigel says, "My career is my priority. I'm not considering marriage at the moment." Shawn says, "Sorry, but I haven't had enough fun yet." Shortly after, they make my asthma act up during my engagement party just so they can please their new princess. As I writhe from the lack of oxygen, they cover her eyes so she won't see. They also mock me, saying I won't die from this. That kills me inside. When I wake up in the hospital, I call my father. "I'll marry the heir of the Blackwell family."

I'm getting married soon—but not to my boyfriend of six years, Soren Cruz. He's the mafia boss based in Mehico and is currently busy "working" with his new underboss, Thea Ramirez. Lately, he's been so swamped with work that he completely forgot about me and our promise to get married on our sixth anniversary. At the Christmas party, he ordered Thea's favorite almond cake. He forgot I'm allergic to almonds. While his friends were messing around, a slice of cake hit me right in the face. I fainted on the spot. When I woke up, I told Mom I didn't want to marry Soren anymore. I'm going back.

On my wedding day, my fiancé showed up with another woman, flashing a marriage license. He announced, "She's my true love. Don't even think about taking her place." My doting brother sided with her too. "You've had a cushy life for over 20 years. Let her have this." I left quietly. My brother and my fiancé breathed a sigh of relief. They paraded the new girl around town, my brother even calling her his adopted sister to boost her status. They didn't know I'd gone to the border until someone mentioned me. I was done with them, but they started to regret it.

Loving Murphy Townsend was a secret Gemma Kirk could never share. Murphy was not just anyone—he was her uncle. She was the cherished rose he nurtured, but he was the forbidden love she could never confess to.

In my previous life, my husband, Lucien Walker, tells me he wants to take care of his widowed sister-in-law, Lina Morgan, and take her as his second wife. After I refuse, Lina throws herself off a cliff while pregnant, killing both herself and the pups. As the Wolf King, Lucien chains me on a clifftop and lets vultures tear at my flesh day after day. He gouges out my eyes and snarls, "You lied about your fertility to trick me, then drove Lina and her unborn pups to their deaths! This is your punishment!" My son, Pierce Walker, whom I pour my life into raising, stabs me 9,999 times. "If Lina were my mother, I would be strong. This is all your fault!" They never know that without my gift for bearing children, Lucien has no heir at all. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day Lucien proposes taking Lina as his second wife.

Lucien Varelli loved me best when my madness belonged to him. I tracked his convoy routes, checked his burner phones, and almost turned the city upside down whenever he disappeared for more than five minutes. At first, Lucien loved it. He kissed the signet ring on my hand and swore no woman, no family, no power in the city could ever take him from me. Until the night I cut off a call from Celeste Ardian. After that, I was no longer his wife. I was a problem. A scandal. A woman too unstable to stand beside the heir of a ruling house. So Lucien signed the papers and sent me to St. Dymphna House. They called it a private residential clinic. What it really was, was a place where inconvenient women were broken down and rebuilt into something quieter. Five years later, Lucien came to take me home. The director told him I had done beautifully. I no longer screamed. I no longer fought. I knew how to lower my eyes, soften my voice, keep my hands still, and smile like a proper Donna. Lucien thought they had cured me. He was wrong. They had not cured my madness. They had only killed the part of me that once loved him.

After a heart-pounding hunt, the pack gathered under the full moon for a celebration. Because of my contribution, I earned the right to bathe in the Sacred Spring and feast on the Stag King's meat. Just as I was about to take a bite, Emily Carter yanked it from my plate. "This isn't for you!" she snapped. In the pack, our roles were similar, but I outperformed her at every turn. She had been targeting me for months. I ignored her and reached for another piece, sliding it into my mouth. "Are you even listening to me?" she screamed, charging at me. Her hand shot up, ready to slap me. The next second, I grabbed her wrist and tossed her aside. Emily landed on the ground with a growl, her face twisted in fury. "You arrogant little wench! My father is the great Alpha King, Hyde Sullivan! How dare you?" she continued, her voice cracking with rage. "I'm revoking your Sacred Spring privileges!" I pressed a hand to my mouth, letting out a quiet laugh. Hyde was my uncle, and he never had offspring. I was his only successor.

After helping my husband build his business from the ground up, I settled into life as a full-time housewife. When our daughter's tenth birthday approached, I planned to host a grand celebration for her. I booked a party that cost 2 thousand dollars per table. But when I swiped my card at the hotel, the staff gave me a strange look. "Mrs. Richmond, this card doesn't even have fifty dollars in it to charge." Flushed with embarrassment, I went home to confront my husband. He wore an apologetic expression. "Lately, the company's been competing for contracts. The new government official is insatiably greedy, and I've had to spend a lot under the table to smooth things over. Once the funds turn around, I'll make sure our daughter gets the grand birthday she deserves." I gave him a gentle, understanding smile—but as soon as I turned away, I began tallying our assets. Because that so-called "new government official" was none other than my father. And in his office, there hadn't been any bids or contracts at all. Now I intended to find out exactly where my husband had spent all our money.

Dad has a stroke and needs money to save his life. I'm left with no choice but to borrow money from my secret CEO boyfriend of five years. Before I can even say anything, he frowns and tells me he's busy. Then, he hurries off to attend his childhood sweetheart's birthday celebration. He only remembers me the following day. "What did you need?" I hold Dad's death certificate and smile wanly at him. "Nothing. I just wanted to tell you that we're over."

Tony Gambino never forgave me. His childhood sweetheart died saving my life, and for seven years, his hatred was a constant, silent burn. I fasted. I prayed. I begged for absolution. He met my penance with a cold sneer. "I'll only forgive you when you're dead." The words were a knife to the heart. So why, when we were both poisoned, did he shove the only antidote down my throat? As the poison claimed him, blood trickling from his lips, he choked out his last words, "Scarlett... in our next life, let's never meet." Later, I tried to visit his grave. His sworn brother and Consigliere, Richard Bruno, blocked my path. He pressed a gun to my forehead. "I don't know how you have the nerve to show your face here, Scarlett. He'd be alive if he hadn't saved you. "I should never have let him give up Elma for you. You're a curse. Everyone who gets close to you gets destroyed." Their eyes were unanimous in their blame. And they were right. So I watched his gravesite from a distance, my own guilt a heavier stone than any marker. Not long after, I was killed in a gang crossfire. When I opened my eyes, I was seven years in the past. This time, I made a different choice: I let Tony go—so that everyone might live.

When my body is engulfed in flames, my firefighter father is watching a new movie with my sister. My mother is baking them a cake. I hear laughter in the living room, and I can smell the caramel popcorn in the kitchen. Today is my family's weekly family day—it's a day for my sister and parents to be with each other. The doorbell rings, and the perpetrator gives me a chance to ask for help. My limbs are bound, and stones fill my mouth. I stand at the door and desperately wait for my parents to open it. They don't get up. Instead, they sit on either side of my sister and hug her. "We promised you we'll only be with you on our family days. No one can disturb us." "What if it's Danica?" Ravenna Sutton, my sister, asks. "Her? She hasn't answered her phone in days—who knows where she's off being wild? I'll think of her as dead if she still doesn't return tomorrow!" Ravenna giggles. Mom feeds her some popcorn, and Dad discusses the movie's plot with her. The perpetrator drags me back upstairs and laughs mockingly in my ear. "Looks like I did something unnecessary. They genuinely don't care about you." Smoke permeates every corner upstairs, and the flames start to lick at my body. Mom and Dad protect Ravenna as they run downstairs. They have no idea their birth daughter is screaming in pain amid the blazing fire.

On the way to a dance competition, a massive truck rammed into me. My legs were shattered, and my mother was sent flying from the impact after she tried to protect me. My stepbrother, who was also my secret boyfriend of six years, went crazy after hearing the news. He had the driver dragged off to a lawless borderland and called in the best doctors in the country to save me and my mother. Not many people knew, but I was born with a rare sensitivity to pain. The more it hurt, the clearer my mind became. That was how I ended up lying wide awake on the bed, listening to Luke Quinton and his friend, Harvey Lane, talking just outside my hospital room. "Luke, are you sure about this? You really want to let Queenie practice on Natalie's mother's heart?" "She deserves it. That vile woman seduced my father and drove my mother to her death. If not for revenge, do you think I'd stomach being with her daughter for six years? "She should be honored that Queenie is dissecting her heart. Keep it from Natalie for now. If she loses it, she might ruin my wedding with Queenie. What would I do if that happened? The only woman I'll ever have as my wife is Queenie. No one will ever take her place." So, that was the truth. What I thought was a love strong enough to defy the world had been a lie from the very beginning—just a carefully crafted act of revenge.

My best friend Sophie and I went into labor the very same night. I watched her switch out the two infants with my own eyes, but I did not tell a single soul. For the next decade, I fed, clothed, and raised a daughter that was not mine. On the day the two girls turned eighteen, they received their college offer letters at the same time. One got into an ivy league school, and the other, a community college whose name I had not even heard of. I had never seen Sophie so happy in my entire life. Grinning from ear to ear, she whipped out the DNA report she had been saving for this very moment. "Thank you for raising my daughter to be the valedictorian that she is today. It's time she returns to her mama. As for this good-for-nothing scum… You can take her back!" I sneered. "Very well then." She had no idea what was coming.