Histórias curtas e romances

Three years ago, my fated mate, Rex Hemmond, had personally signed the auction contract, resulting in me getting delivered onto the auction stage in the black market. That night, I was injected with aphrodisiacs, leading to me revealing my most debauched side in front of everyone. That was how I became the most hated harlot in the Moonshade pack. My sister, Daisy Russell, could be seen nestling into Rex's arms. She was smiling as she watched me fall into the abyss. During the years of my exile, I spent countless nights beneath bridges. Most of the time, I was chased around by others who wanted to beat me up. Eventually, I started earning money by slaving away in underground cage fights as a fighter so that I could buy back the estate that my dad had left me with. Three years later, Rex tracks me down with bloodshot eyes. "Come back with me and apologize to Daisy." I respond by punching him in the face. "That'll be 100 dollars per punch. If you're still unsatisfied, you can keep punching me." When Rex takes Daisy's hand at the estate's gateway and claims that it will be hers from now on, I finally fire a text message to an unknown number. "I need you." The moment that wolf steps into the Moonshade pack, Rex questions me with red-rimmed eyes, "Since when did you get together with him?" I just smile in return. "He was the one who saved me on the night you signed the auction contract."

The day I went to surprise my blood-bound, Damien, with my pregnancy report, I found out his childhood sweetheart, Lia, was also pregnant. But, with a vampire hunter's child. To protect her and her child from being killed, he lied to the whole Clan, saying her child is his own pure-blood heir. Meanwhile, my child who was actually his true heir was labelled as bastard . He promised me he would clear my name and declare our child his once Lia delivers her child safely. He left me alone at home and went to different location with Lia to help her deliver her child safely. However, his family broke through my den and stabbed me in the stomach with the wooden stake the same day he left me for Lia. By the time he returned, it was already too late.

"Sasha, Mira's already engaged to Vincent. Stop messing with it. We booked your flight. You'll stay overseas until after the wedding." The whole 'this is for your own good' routine was back. That's when Sasha Clarke realized—she'd been given a second shot. Right to the day her parents forced her out of the country and made her give up Vincent Scythe.

In my previous life, on the day my sister and I attended the Witch Covenant's mating ceremony, I saved a fallen vampire prince. To repay my debt, the prince, upon returning to his clan, immediately declared that I would be his future bride. A year later, I gave birth to a pureblood heir—the only successor of the entire vampire lineage. The prince was overjoyed. On the day of his coronation as King, he sealed a blood bond with me, declaring me his eternal companion and queen. From that moment, I was revered by all races. My sister, meanwhile, chose a powerful werewolf Alpha, only to fade into obscurity as one among his many lovers. Her jealousy of me spiraled into madness. During a full-moon ritual held by the witches, she pushed me into an abyss, leaving me to die from the fall. When I opened my eyes again, I saw her running toward the direction of the vampire prince's misfortune on the very day of the mating ceremony. I knew then: she, too, had been reborn. But what she didn't realize was this—becoming the prince's bride was easy. Winning his heart, bearing his child, now that was as impossible as climbing to the heavens.

My sister and I slept for a thousand years. Tonight, we would Awaken. We would become true High-Bloods. Our Sire, Countess Lylandra, brought us two men. We had to choose a Blood Thrall. A cold, celibate priest. A young, harmless noble prince. In my past life, Lilith grabbed the prince by the neck and vanished into the shadows. She left me with the cold-hearted priest. The prince's blood was sweet, his soul pure. He was supposed to be the perfect sacrifice for the Awakening ritual. Lilith should have become a High-Blood without any trouble. But she fell for the prince's sweet words and gentle lies. She poured her ancient power into him. She forged a false blood bond to help him seize the throne. On his coronation day, he plunged a dagger dipped in blessed silver into her heart. With his own hands, he carved out her new Blood Core. He offered it to his werewolf allies. Lilith nearly turned to dust. And me? The priest helped me purify my blood. I broke the vampire curse. I no longer feared the sun or blessed silver. I became the legendary Daywalker Queen. Jealousy drove her mad. She used her last drop of power to unleash a kin-curse. It killed us both. Then I opened my eyes. I was back. Back to the night we chose our Blood Thralls. This time, Lilith chose differently. She wrapped herself around the priest, a vision of seduction. Her blood-red wings spread, ready to carry him away. My fangs slid from my gums. A choice? Why should I have to choose? The priest and the prince... Both are mine for the taking.

On my birthday, Connor Simpson's first love jumped off a building due to depression. She died on the spot. Connor blamed everything on me. I never celebrated my birthday again after she died. After the murderer electrocuted me for more than ten hours, they forced me to call Connor. "Connor, it's my 25th birthday today. Can you come over and spend time with me?" However, Connor did not notice anything unusual. His voice was laced with venomous iciness. "Clarisse Winter, Audrey wouldn't have died if it weren't for you. How dare you ask me to celebrate your birthday? If only you were the one who died." I heard him coaxing a woman on the other end just before he hung up on me. That low and gentle tone was what I loved to hear the most in the past. That night, the murderer cut my body into countless pieces, packed them in bags, and threw them in front of the police station. Connor was summoned back overnight. He spent two days and two nights piecing together the body parts, but he did not realize that the dead person was the wife that he hated the most.

In my last life, my Alpha husband despised me for giving him a “tainted” Omega Black Werewolf. So, he murdered our newborn with his own hands and then tore me apart with silver-quenched claws. As I lay dying, I cursed him to eternal damnation, and with my own eyes, I watched as his body sank into the frozen depths of Moonshine Lake alongside mine. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the bonding ceremony—the day he was supposed to choose his mate. This time, he didn’t hesitate at all. He chose my sister, a Beta Gray Werewolf whose bloodline sat just one step above an Omega’s, and the way he looked at me was nothing but bone-deep disgust. I knew then that he had been reborn, too. In my last life, my sister was just an ordinary Beta, while I was a Silvermoon Alpha, one of the highest bloodlines, second only to the legendary Golden Lycan. Back then, he chose me without hesitation. However, my sister later married a regular Alpha and somehow gave birth to a golden pup, earning the envy of the entire pack. Meanwhile, I married him and gave birth to a low-rank Omega Black Werewolf, making him the laughingstock of the Werewolf Alliance. This time, he thinks choosing my sister will give him that golden pup again, but what he doesn’t know is that a body is only a shell. Blood doesn’t lie. A bloodline tainted by Omega can never forge a true descendant of a Golden Lycan.

When my best friend and I went for prenatal checkups, we both found out we were carrying babies with the super-male gene. The doctor advised us to terminate the pregnancies. I immediately went through with it, but my best friend was hesitant. I kindly advised her, "This child will ruin your life someday." She reluctantly agreed. Later, her husband cheated on her and tried to justify it. "If you can't give me a son, why shouldn't someone else?" Her husband's mistress chimed in, "What's the point of a woman who can't bear sons?" As a result, she blamed everything on me. When I wasn't paying attention, she poisoned my water and watched me die. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of our prenatal checkup.

The Clan Healer told me that without the vial of Progenitor's Blood, the Blood Blight afflicting me meant I had only seventy-two hours to live. But my husband, Miles, the new Duke of our world, gave the only vial of the precious cure to my adopted sister, Vivienne, the woman I had turned three years ago. "She's in agony from the rejection, Isolde. It's a pain you can't possibly understand." His tone was self-righteous, devoid of any concern for the patch of skin on my collarbone already turning to stone. I nodded, watching as the life-saving, dark red liquid slid down another woman's throat. I accomplished a great deal in the time I had left. As I signed the documents, the lawyer's hand trembled. "Are you certain you want to transfer everything, Your Grace? The territorial rights of a thousand-year-old clan..." I didn't hesitate. "Yes. To Vivienne." My adopted daughter, Lily, the girl I had risked everything to save, who was now forever frozen at the age of eight, cowered in Vivienne's arms, pointing at me and screaming, "Aunt Vivienne is my real mommy! You're the witch who turned us into monsters!" I offered no defense. "Yes, that's right. Be a good girl and listen to your new mother now." The Progenitor's Ring, the symbol of the clan's supreme authority, now rested on Vivienne's hand. "Oh, sister, you're too kind," she sobbed, her sobs a practiced performance. "I'll be sure to protect the family in your stead." I nodded. "You'll run things better than I ever did." I even signed away my control over the Elder Council, a council sustained by my own blood. For the first time in a century, a shadow of complex emotion crossed Miles's face. He stared at me,"Isolde, stop fighting. It's better this way. You need to rest." Yes. On my deathbed, I had finally become the perfect, submissive Isolde they always wanted. An Isolde who was about to turn to dust. The seventy-two-hour countdown had begun. I wondered, when I finally turned to ash,

During my wedding reception, I make a toast to my wife's true love. He smashes his wine glass in retaliation and snaps, "I lost to you and allowed you to marry Isabel, but you shouldn't have humiliated me in public!" My wife, Isabel Eaton, is furious. She calls me petty and says she's disgusted by men like me, who get jealous over the smallest things. She rips her veil off and runs after her true love. I chase her, wanting to explain myself. However, a car rams into me. Isabel turns to glance at me but doesn't stop as she goes after her true love. I'm taken to the hospital to be rescued. However, my heart dies despite my body recovering. Upon regaining consciousness, I call my father. I've cut off contact with him for the past three years, but it's time to cave. "I'll go ahead with the marriage alliance, Dad."

I woke up inside a novel, and not even as an important character. I became a pretty background extra in a smut novel. My brother, however, was the only normal person in the entire story. His character setting was the one man the soft, delicate heroine could never win over. He was the cold, unattainable Prince Charming she could never conquer. When the heroine cried and confessed her love, he was studying. When she offered him her whole heart and body, he was busy starting a company. When she spiraled into scandals and nightlife, he was already a billionaire, calm and untouchable. I thought he would live a quiet, ascetic life forever. Until one night, I walked in on him at midnight… holding a piece of clothing I recognized all too well, murmuring a name over and over, a name so familiar that my scalp tingled.

On our first wedding anniversary, my husband came home with a woman who was six months pregnant. He introduced her as his cousin, someone who had fallen on hard times, and asked me to take care of her. I was just about to agree when fragments of imaginary commentary floated through my mind: [She's just my 'cousin'. Uh-uh, that's a cliche.] [Poor supporting female character! A maid by day, the husband's bedwarmer by night.] [But she totally deserved it! If she hadn't broken up the main couple, they'd have a whole soccer team of kids by now!] Wait—what? Supporting female character? Me? And what's this about breaking them up? So now these two get to cheat under my roof, and somehow I'm the villain? Before I could process it all, my husband was already dragging her luggage inside. "Alice doesn't like fried food," he said matter-of-factly. "And nothing too salty or spicy. Make sure you keep that in mind when you're cooking. "Oh, and pregnant women love sweets. Go out now and buy a cherry cake. The one from that bakery in the suburbs."

My fiancé fell in love with a mute woman who saved his life and wanted to break off our engagement. I kindly advised her, “The Harlow family isn’t easy to be part of. You might want to reconsider.” The mute woman, feeling insulted, took poison and ended her life. Ten years later, Victor Harlow, after taking full control of the family conglomerate, did one thing: destroyed the Grant family and came for my life. “This is the debt you owe Yvonne.” When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to my 23rd birthday banquet. The patriarch, William Harlow, asked me what I wished for. “Since Victor and Yvonne are deeply in love, please let this 'perfect couple' be together.”

Everyone said Kane adored me. That for me, he'd tame the wild rage of an Alpha, soften every growl, and sheath every claw. Ten years. Ten damn years of chasing, spoiling, protecting. I was convinced I’d be his Luna—his mate, his forever. But betrayal doesn’t come with a warning. It cuts sharp and deep. And it never just comes once. The first lie, I forgave. The second, I bled. The third? It broke something in me I’m not sure I’ll ever get back. And then came the words that snapped the last thread holding me together. "Julia, can't you just stop being so difficult? Stop acting like the world revolves around you." That was when I knew. The man who once walked through fire for me…Had turned into the very beast I needed saving from. The love I thought I had—it wasn’t love. It was a gilded cage, pretty from the outside, but still a prison. And if I was ever going to be free, I'd have to be the one to smash it open. Even if it meant setting the wolf on fire with it.

Brody Lewis, my fiance, said that I had a rare form of transient global amnesia, which was a sudden, temporary memory loss. Every seven days, I would open my eyes and become the twenty-five-year-old Riley Taylor again. My memories were forever stuck in the past. In my pen drive were videos of Brody taking me on trips, bringing me for treatment, and proposing to me. Everything seemed great between us, but I remembered none of it. “Riley’s still around. Can’t you keep your hands to yourself?” “Don’t worry. It’s Monday tomorrow. After she wakes up, she’ll remember none of it,” Brody said, and my heart sank. “Isn’t this more exciting?” Brody embraced my best friend, and they made out brazenly in front of me. They were not shy about it at all. I wondered just how many times this had happened over the past two years. I ran as tears blurred my vision. When I arrived at a tattoo shop, I grabbed the tattoo artist like a drowning man holding on to a log. Then, I asked the tattoo artist to tattoo these words on my arm in my handwriting. [Leave him.]

In their fifth year of marriage,Jessica went to renew their marriage certificate. However, she was told that the certificate was fake, and her husband's legal wife was someone else. The love that had seemed inseparable for five years turned out to be a lie. When she returned home, she overheard Anthony, her husband, talking to his lawyer: "Linda is building her career abroad, and to establish herself in the business world, she needs the title of Mrs. Harris. I have to help her." "As for Jessica, she's completely devoted to me. She's already cut ties with her family for me, and she will never leave." Hearing that, Jessica's heart turned to stone. By the time Anthony brought back the real marriage certificate, Jessica had disappeared, and he was unable to find her again.

Sepharine cared for Draven, the crippled son of an Alpha, for three long years. After painstakingly helping him regain his strength, he scorned her—for she was merely a lowly maid, unworthy of an Alpha's heir. Heartbroken, Sepharine left the pack. Only after losing her did Draven realize the depth of his feelings for her.

My husband is known as a ruthless CEO, but somehow, he is tender and warm with me. I'm passionate about art restoration, especially antique paintings, so he transforms his private collection room into a professional-grade studio just for me. He even brings in top experts to mentor me. Once, I spent three sleepless nights restoring a rare 12th-century painting. He ends up buying the entire museum that the painting belongs to, just so I can study it without restrictions. To marry me, he goes head-to-head with his powerful family, even stages a hunger strike, until they finally give in. At our engagement party, he gets down on one knee in front of everyone and says, "Ash, you deserve nothing but the best in this world." The ring he designs himself has an engraving on the inside that says, "Art brought us together, love holds us forever." Everyone says Vincent Hawthorn loves me like a maniac, and I believe it—until I restore one of his late mother's paintings…

My dormmates are my bullies. When they hear that my father owns a factory, they force me to get them part-time jobs there for the summer. I look down at the wounds they've inflicted on me and smile. They've just served themselves up for slaughter—they've given me the perfect opportunity to get revenge on them. My father's factory isn't as great as they think—it's known for its strange happenings.

On the very night Finn Chapman's first love got divorced, he threw the ninety-ninth divorce agreement at me. "Lisa's heart is broken. She can't move on. I have to take care of her," he said. Even our seven-year-old son tried to persuade me. "You should just agree to the divorce and leave," he told me. "Let Lisa move in. We don't need a maid like you anymore." Both father and son were certain I'd scream, cry, beg them not to throw me out. But I didn't. I simply nodded, quietly signed my name on the divorce papers, and left. Ten years later, my son became the top scorer on the SATs. During an interview, a reporter asked him, "What has motivated you to study so hard all these years?" He went silent for a moment. Then, in front of everyone, his eyes turned red. "Because I wanted to tell my mom," he said, voice trembling, "I've grown up now. Will you come back? Please don't leave me again."