Short Stories & Novels

I'm my brother's walking blood bank. Mom and Dad keep forcing me to go for blood transfusions to the point that I don't even weigh 80 pounds. Later, my brother's kidney fails. Mom and Dad want to gouge mine out to be transplanted into his body. At the peak of my despair, the thief who sneaks in from the ventilation hood secretly carries me out and helps me escape. He says, "I'm here for you. Don't be scared."

I have a secret. Whenever I touch someone, I can see the face of the person they love most. This is not an ability ordinary werewolves possess. I am a Moon Seer, a rarity that appears perhaps once in a century. I cannot read thoughts or memories, but I have never been wrong about a person’s heart. I had been the person Ronan Hartson loved most since he moved next door at seven. Our wolves recognized each other when we turned eighteen. When our Mate Bond awakened, I still saw only myself in his heart. Ronan officially claimed me at twenty two. He left his mark on my neck and announced before the entire Blackridge Pack that I was his only mate and the Luna of Blackridge. Our Mate Bond remained unshaken for three years. Then, at six weeks pregnant, I touched his collar before he left for work. I had known Ronan for twenty one years and touched him more than a hundred thousand times. This was the first time I discovered that I was no longer the only woman in his heart. That night, he lied about patrols. That night, I saw him feed her cake with his own hands. He thought our Mate Bond would keep me tethered to him forever. He thought I would never leave. But he forgot one thing: I don’t need a man to feel whole. And I will never raise my child in a house built on lies. He chose to protect her. I chose to protect myself.

The night I died, my whole family was busy celebrating my twin sister Elena's eighteenth birthday. Everyone thought Elena was going to die the next day. We're elves. My father worked as a clan guardian, and after Mom gave birth to Elena and me as twins, she stopped working altogether. We should have been a happy family. But from the moment we were born, Elena and I were bound by a witch's curse. Because Elena came into the world one minute before me, she took the full weight of it onto herself. She was never supposed to live past eighteen. From the day we were born, Elena was the family's treasure. Mom and Dad treated me like I owed her something. New toys went to her first. New dresses were always her pick. Every night, Mom would sit in Elena's room for at least an hour before she'd turn off the light. I always fell asleep alone. One night I had a nightmare and ran barefoot to find Mom. She was holding Elena and didn't even look up. "Go back to bed. Stop making a fuss." I kept telling myself: she's dying, of course they're kind to her. But every time I let something go, that splinter in my chest pushed a little deeper. Then the day the curse was supposed to take effect finally came, and naturally, that was the day my stomach cramped so badly I could barely stand. Mom and Dad didn't hesitate. They shoved me into the cellar and locked it from outside. I crouched on the stone floor with the smell of mildew everywhere and knocked on the door over and over. "Mom... Dad... my stomach really hurts, I can't even stand up... let me out, please..." One sentence came back through the door. "Your sister is dying tonight! Can you just give us one day? One day!" "But... Mom... I'm scared..." Nobody answered after that. The cellar went quiet. My eyelids grew heavy. My last thought was: if I were the one dying of a curse, would they come hold me too.

I had always been a people pleaser. Yet somehow, I ended up transmigrating into the role of the vicious wife of a general. After three years away at war, Scott Holden returned and brought his so-called true love back with him. I handed over the main bedroom without hesitation, cooked for her myself, stayed up all night stitching a pair of matching pillows, and even had all the staff lined up to welcome her properly. But instead of being pleased, Jennifer Cross burst into tears. "This is all my fault. I have no name, no status, yet I'm staying here at Holden Residence, letting Lillian humiliate me like this. If that's the case, I'll just leave!" It hit me all at once. So that was what she wanted. A proper title. So I drafted a divorce letter for Scott myself, brought it to him, and said with an ingratiating smile, "After you divorce me, could you maybe keep me on the side as a mistress? My parents are gone. I don't have anywhere else to go." Scott flew into a rage. "I see right through your little tricks. Jennifer is just staying here temporarily. Are you really that petty?" From that day on, he never set foot in my room again. Then one day, enemy forces attacked. Jennifer and I were both captured and strung up on the city wall, forcing Scott to choose between us. Before he could even decide, I shouted eagerly, "I'll die, I'll die! I'm totally willing! I love that rush you get from falling from high up, that adrenaline spike!" After all, once I died, I could finally go home. But for the first time, Scott's eyes turned red with panic.

In the seventh year of our marriage, my wife, Serena Clark, digs up my parents' urns and places them in front of me. Then she gives me two choices. "Either give your designs to Seth so he can enter the competition, or I'll scatter your parents' ashes into the sea," she says. Clutching the designs I've just finished, I swallow my pride and give in as tears burn in my eyes. The next day, a photo of Seth Johnson sitting on a yacht scattering ashes goes viral. Serena comments beneath the photo, "I'll give you everything I have and spoil you rotten." I stare at the urns in the corner of the photo, feeling my blood run cold. My deceased parents and I have become tools Serena uses to please Seth. Fine, then. I don't need a wife like her.

To fulfill his young girlfriend Wendy Baker's dream of becoming vice president, my husband faked amnesia after a car accident and used it as an excuse to strip me of my position. One afternoon, I happened to overhear a conversation between them. Wendy sounded hesitant as she asked, "Aren't you worried Elaine will never speak to you again if you do this?" My husband did not seem concerned in the slightest. "I'm only letting you have some fun for seven days," he said casually. "After that, I'll just tell her my memory came back. What's she going to do, hold a grudge against someone who was supposedly sick?" My footsteps slowed. I heard every word. However, instead of exposing his lie, I quietly walked away. The next day, during a company meeting, my husband slammed his hand on the conference table and publicly declared that Wendy was his wife. He demanded that I leave the company and hand over every project under my management. The entire room fell silent. Every employee turned to look at me, waiting for me to stop his absurd behavior, just as I always had before. However, this time, I did not argue. I did not defend myself. I simply picked up the resignation agreement and signed it. What he did not know was that the deadline for the company's most important project was only seven days away. More importantly, the client recognized only one person as the project's lead and sole point of contact—me. Seven days later, things would not go the way he had imagined. Instead of getting everything he wanted, he would find himself facing crushing financial penalties, lawsuits, and possibly even jail time.

After my driver's girlfriend refused to let me in the car, she went out of her mind with regret. I am the principessa of the Stascia family. To investigate the truth behind my father's death, I disguised myself as a big-spending international student, chauffeured to and from school in a luxury car every day. Ever since Damian became my private driver, he'd been taking liberties with my car without permission. I turned a blind eye. Until one rainy night when I was being hunted. I called him to pick me up, but his girlfriend threw me out of the car. "This is my boyfriend's car. Who do you think you are? Get out!" Covered in blood and slumped on the side of the road, I smiled as I dialed a number. "Tell the Family. I know the truth." Later, Damian and his little girlfriend knelt before me, begging for mercy. "If you hadn't kicked me out of the car that night, you wouldn't have exposed yourself this quickly. Any regrets?"

My sister is diagnosed with leukemia after a medical checkup at the hospital where I work. My bone marrow is a match for her. Out of curiosity, I tell my family I'm the one who's sick. They vehemently oppose to her donating her bone marrow to me. "A bone marrow donation is risky! We can't let your sister put herself in danger." "Don't drag your sister into this just because you're sick. Everyone's life and death is fated—you have to accept your destiny." My sister also refuses to help me, brushing me off with the excuse that she's preparing to conceive. My relationship with my family is strained, so their behavior thoroughly destroys it. When I realize this, I leave the diagnosis report behind and walk out on them.

The first thing I do after being reborn is secretly keeping six stunning male models behind my wealthy husband’s back. I seduce them and sleep with them for 999 days to get myself pregnant. I do all this because in my past life, my husband found out that he had asthenozoospermia and married me because I am known for being fertile. He wants to carry on the family line so that he will have a successor to inherit the family fortune. I try everything I can to get pregnant, but nothing works. Conversely, my infertile best friend gives birth to twins and triplets within two years after marrying a 70-year-old man. When my wealthy husband hears that my best friend is blessed with children, he is immediately captivated. They get together behind my back and even arrange for someone to run me over with a car when I find out the truth. After my death, I discover that my best friend has bound herself to the child switch system. Any child I am impregnated with is transferred into her womb. My best friend's infertility is transferred to me in return. When I open my eyes again, I find myself back on the day when my husband married me and brought me home. I smile happily when I think about all the things that took place in my past life. My best friend wants lots of children, doesn't she? If so, I will make her experience the joy of having 18 babies in one pregnancy!

I was a slum kid who fell for Damon Vitale, New York’s most feared Godfather. For five years, I was his. I took nine bullets for him. He’d kiss my scars as I bled out for him. Hold me close. Clasp the queen’s necklace around my throat. Then, once I healed, he’d fuck me senseless, with a passion that felt like forever. I thought we’d spend our lives together. I thought he would marry me. But on our 999th night together, he told me he was engaged. To Bianca, a mafia princess from a rival family. I swallowed my tears. He just grabbed my chin, blew smoke in my face, and laughed. "You didn't really think you could marry me, did you, Nora? Let's be clear. We fuck. That's it. You're not a partner. You're a piece of art I collect. A pet I own." A pet. That’s all he ever wanted for me. Instead, I picked up a burner phone. [I'm taking your offer. Three days. Get me the hell out of New York.]

For three years, I gave up everything for Adrian Cole. Three years of believing my sacrifices would earn me a place in his heart. Instead, on the day I planned to surprise him, I walked into his office and watched him get down on one knee for another woman. In front of everyone, the man I sacrificed everything for called me a liar, a gold digger, and a burden he could no longer tolerate. Then he threw me out of his life without a second glance. Heartbroken and humiliated, I made a call I hadn’t made in three years. A call that would change everything. Because Adrian Cole never bothered to learn who I really was. And when the truth finally comes out, he’ll come crawling back to me. Too bad I’ll be busy kicking him back to the curb where he belongs.

My father was hit by a car. When I found the perpetrator, my wife, Jessie Ford, stepped out of the passenger seat with her clothes in disarray. I stayed at the hospital to care for my father, yet Jessie stayed with the perpetrator at the police station while he was being questioned. I refused to settle the case, and she picked up a thermos and struck my head. “He’s a lawyer. Do you want to ruin his career? What are you trying to do?” I calmly wiped the blood from my forehead and looked at Jessie, who stood there flustered and slow to understand the situation. This was not Jessie’s first affair, but it was the most serious one. I suddenly remembered the fifth year of our marriage when she grinned at me and said, “Don’t you get tired of sleeping with only one person for the rest of your life? To be fair, I won’t interfere with how you fool around. What I give them is sex; what I give you is love.” Later, I did exactly what she suggested and got involved with the girl she sent to me, yet she begged me to come back.

My mother was the Chosen Luna—the one who once conquered three powerful Alphas. When her mission was done, she vanished from this world, leaving behind only me, and the three Alphas who had once loved her with everything they had. My first father, Alpha Jeff Tanners, ruled the Silver Moon Pack—rich enough to buy half the continent. My second father, Alpha Kael Grey, commanded all the warriors of the Northern Alliance. My third father, Alpha Bran Theron, held every medical resource wolves and humans depended on. For eighteen years, I was their cherished little princess. Whatever I wanted, they gave—no questions, no hesitation. Until they brought home that girl—a fragile orphan named Arie Ryker. From that day on, everything changed. She told them I called her a filthy stray, unworthy of our pack. She said I led the young wolves at school to bully her. She said I tampered with her performance costume, that I caused her allergy, that I made her faint on stage. And they believed her. They stopped believing me. The ninety-ninth time they chose her over me, when they shouted, "Don't come back again!", I didn't argue. I just picked up my luggage and left. They thought I'd come running home like before—that my disappearance was just another way to make them see me. But when they found out I had left the pack for good, that my identity had been erased, that I could no longer be found, the three mighty Alphas finally broke.

Overnight, an electronic notification sounded in the minds of all office workers. It was from a "Performance-Share System". The rules: employees who paired off could split their year-end bonuses 50/50. I was a junior associate at Summit Financial, one of the biggest wealth management firms in Manhattan. In my previous life, I agreed to pair with my manager, Jared, and the intern he brought in — Stephanie. By the time the project went into its crunch phase, they'd shoved every garbage task and every blown deadline onto me. I pulled all-nighters for months. My body was running on fumes. When the one promotion that could have saved me came up, they cut me out of the team without a second thought. In the end I was fired for "burnout and poor performance." I couldn't make my mortgage. I jumped. They took the work I'd done with me, walked out with million-dollar bonuses each, and flew off on vacation together. Then I opened my eyes again. I was back, on the exact day the pair-binding system went live. This time, I'm not just keeping every cent of what I earn. This time, I'm putting them in prison.

In Evergreen Pack, turning 18 means awakening, shifting into wolf form, and being marked by your mate. But on the day of my coming-of-age ceremony, my older brothers and my fiance bring back a gravely injured Omega from the border. They place her in my room, and my eldest brother, Corey Newman, personally put the moonstone pendant my parents left me around her neck. My fiance, Zachary Russell, who's supposed to mark me, instead takes the Omega, Nora Gates, by the hand. He looks at me coldly and hisses, "I refuse to be your mate." The pain is too much for my wolf and me. Yet, my other brother, Wesley Newman, only says, "Stop making a scene or get out." I realize then that they were no longer my family. So, I decide to exile myself and throw myself into ten years of closed research in Central City. They think I'm just throwing a tantrum, and they even take Nora to see the aurora in Everfrost, something I've always longed to do. When they finally realize that I'm never coming back, they fall to their knees at my feet, begging me like lunatics to return.

On the day I went into labor, my mate Caleb Ashford received a call from his first love. "Caleb, I'm back. Can you end your mate bond with her and become my mate?" Caleb glanced at me in the delivery room, said nothing, and hung up without hesitation. I thought he had chosen me. But the day I was discharged after giving birth, he slid a mate bond dissolution agreement across the table toward me. "Nora, I'm sorry. I can't say no to Lila. After the bond is dissolved, I'll give you a large sum of money to make up for it." I stared at the dissolution agreement in front of me. I didn't cry or make a scene. I picked up the pen calmly and signed my name, Nora Hart, at the bottom. Caleb hadn't expected me to agree so readily. A flicker of shock crossed his eyes. I handed him the signed agreement. "It's fine. I've always known Lila is the one you've loved all these years. "Being your mate for seven years was already more than I could have ever asked for." With that, I turned and walked away under his stunned gaze. Once I was out of his sight, I looked at my copy of the agreement again. The settlement was enough to keep me comfortable for three lifetimes. He had no idea that playing it cool was a gold digger's oldest trick.

A week before our family wedding, my fiancé, Matteo, suddenly changed the location to a luxury yacht in Boca Raton. I only found out when the wedding coordinator called me. Over the video call, I heard Matteo's careless voice in the background: "It's just a wedding. It's the same anywhere. Don't bother asking Sienna. She does whatever I say." "Besides, Camilla always dreamed of a fairytale wedding at sea. I'm just making her dream come true. Sienna will understand." Just because his childhood friend, Camilla Moretti, said she liked ocean views, he ruined the wedding I spent months planning. And he didn't even bother to tell me. He knew damn well I nearly drowned as a kid. He knew deep water terrifies me to my very core. Matteo thought I was crazy in love with him. After all, I once took a bullet to the head for him, damaging my vision. He was dead sure I'd back down again and smooth things over with my family. He thought wrong. I'm done taking his garbage. I tore up the wedding contract and walked away without looking back. Screw this wedding. And screw him.

I send my sister, Lola Graham, to my couture boutique to pick out a wedding dress. As she is leaving, a trainee clerk, Kayla Larson, demands three million for the gown. Helpless, Lola says my name. "I'm the owner's sister. I don't have to pay." Kayla rolls her eyes. "You're pranking the wrong store. Our boss doesn't have a sister. You're just broke and trying to scam us!" she snapped, blocking my sister's way. "This is your last warning—either pay up, or I'll rip that dress off you and throw you out!" Stunned, Lola calls me. When I rush over, I hear my long-time store manager standing deferentially behind Kayla, warning Lola, "You'd better behave. The woman in front of you is our boss' wife. Cross her, and you'll regret it." "Trying to fake your way in here? You've got some nerve," Kayla sneers, adding to my sister's humiliation. My hand freezes on the door. Without hesitation, I cut off my husband's secondary credit card and call him. "Have I been too generous with you? Or did giving you too much money make you think you could afford another woman behind my back?"

Everyone in our circle knew I had always been obsessed with Daniel Rothman. I followed whatever he did—went to school, learnt eight different languages, studied finance. After all, the Rothmans and Fosters were destined to merge through marriage—our intertwined business empires depended on it. However, on our wedding day, Daniel flew overseas to rescue his crush in distress. Our childhood bond, once the envy of everyone, became the biggest joke of all. There I was, wearing a wedding dress worth millions, standing alone as I completed the grand ceremony by myself. The headlines were everywhere. For the first time, my name came before his in the news. How foolish. Men were a dime a dozen. But there was only one well-established business empire. I did not just want his body. I wanted his money, too.

On the night before our engagement party, my fiancée went radio silent for five hours—just to buy her male assistant stomach medicine. When she finally came back, I gave her two choices: fire him, or call off the wedding. She disappeared for three full days. The next time I saw her, she showed up at our doorstep soaking wet. She threw her arms around me and said, "I don't want anyone but you." Then, on our wedding night, she vanished again. I'm an ER doctor. I got called in for an emergency. When I got to the hospital, I found out the patient was her assistant. He had a groin injury. My fiancée was standing by his bedside, disheveled, her clothes a mess. I didn't raise my voice. I just looked at her and said, "Cut ties with him right now. We can still make this work." Her eyes filled with conflict. She hesitated. Then she reached down and took his hand.