Short Stories & Novels

"Wait… sir, I can't…" While I was performing physical therapy on a patient, the vest I was wearing accidentally tore. In front of the patient's guardian, it exposed my sweat-dampened body. The man's gaze settled on the soft curves that had sprung free, his eyes dark and unreadable. When he pressed me against the mirror and made me watch my own reflection—my body left in disarray under his relentless attention—I knew then that everything was about to spiral into an uncontrollable abyss.

My girlfriend loves to test my love for her. After the college entrance exam results were released, she, who usually scored over 1450 in mock exams, told me she did not do well and only got 1070. She asked if I would be willing to repeat a year and retake the exam with her. I agreed, even though I had a perfect score. However, when school started, I found out that she actually scored 1540 and had already received her acceptance letter to MIT.

Andrew was the youngest Alpha the Northern packs had ever seen.   On his twenty-eighth birthday, he accepted a she-wolf as a gift — right in front of everyone.   For the first time, I dropped the obedient act. I smashed the champagne tower, threw my ring at him, and called off our engagement.   Then I packed my bags and left the pack I'd called home for seven years.   Everyone said I was a rogue with no one to turn to — that I'd come crawling back within three days.   Andrew didn't even care. "She's a rogue I took in. Without the North, where else would she go?"   But three days came and went. Then dozens more. I never went back.   The first time Andrew reached out through our mind-link, he found nothing.   I'd already severed the connection.   Later, when news broke that I had mated with Austin, Alpha of the South, it sent shockwaves through the werewolf world.   Andrew showed up at my door, desperate, begging me to come home.   Austin smiled warmly, his arm curling around my waist. "Andrew, what exactly are you discussing with my Luna?"

After I refused for the eighth time to give my daughter a monthly allowance of $80, she went live online to denounce me. During the broadcast, she shared screenshots of our messages, showing how she had repeatedly and desperately asked me for money after the new school term began. "Mom, I just got my period. I do not have money to buy sanitary pads. Could you send me this month's allowance?" I replied calmly, "No." "Mom, I have not eaten in three days. I am really hungry." I responded with sarcasm. "What does that have to do with me?" The screen quickly filled with comments calling me suffocatingly cruel and heartless. Looking straight into the camera, she sobbed uncontrollably. "Mom, I am not asking for much. I only need $80 a month for living expenses. "Do you really have to push me to death before you feel satisfied?" Within a short time, I became the target of widespread online abuse. A well-known education influencer reached out to me. "It is only $80. It is not something you cannot afford. Why are you treating your own daughter so harshly?" I looked at her calmly. "Try livestreaming seven days of life with me and my daughter. "If you can do that, you'll understand."

I married my vampire husband ten years ago and gave him a half-blood heir, abandoning my career as a painter to become a full-time mother. Fortunately, my son inherited my talent. At just six years old, he held his first solo art exhibition, inspired by the theme "My Mother." But he never let me attend, and he never let me see his paintings. My husband said my presence would make Luke nervous---that I should stay home and do the housework as a good wife and mother, and wait for them to come back. I told myself he was just young and didn't know better, that he was only pushing back against my discipline, not truly rejecting me. Until the day I snuck into the gallery wearing a surgical mask pulled low. In the center of the crowd, my husband held our son's hand while tenderly pulling a woman in a red dress into his arms. He turned to the guests and announced: "This is Luke's mother---my wife." The three of them stood together, beaming with perfect happiness. And I---the one who'd stayed up all night setting up this exhibition---stood before the paintings while not a single person recognized me. That was when I finally understood. My seemingly gentle, caring vampire husband had long ago given our son a replacement mother. And I was nothing more than the human nanny who'd served her purpose by producing an heir.

Seven times, I bonded with the same Alpha. And seven times, he tore our bond apart for his childhood flame. The first time, he swore it under the moon. “Astrid, my Luna. From this day forward, my heart and my wolf are yours alone.” But the moment his precious Liana returned, his promises turned to ash. “Can’t you just be patient? You’re making her uncomfortable, making it look like she’s seducing a mated male.” The first time he rejected me, the searing pain of the bond breaking nearly killed my wolf. They sent me to the pack healers, but he never came. Not once. The third time, I swallowed my pride as an Alpha’s daughter. I joined his pack as a nobody, just to be near his scent. By the sixth time, I knew the drill. I packed my bags and walked out of our penthouse without a word. My breakdowns. My compromises. My surrender. All I got for my pain were his clockwork apologies and the same betrayal. Over and over again. Until now. The moment I heard Liana was coming back, I handed him the papers to sever our bond myself. He just set a date for our next bonding ceremony, as if nothing had happened. He has no idea. This time, I’m not just breaking the bond. I’m shattering the heart that beat for him seven times, only to be crushed by his own hands, seven times.

When I joined my pregnant wife at her class reunion, I heard the thoughts of her male bestie. 'Once she kicks her bum husband to the curb, the money's all mine!' He was snuggling up to my wife, raising his glass in salutations with a perfect smile, but I still caught the flicker of disgust in his eyes. 'Stupid sow thinks I'm in love with her? Who would care about her if it weren't for her money?' He had no idea that Mary's family had gone bankrupt long ago, and her life of luxury now was all thanks to me!

Adrian had fallen into his brother's trap. Stripped of his Alpha title, he was exiled from the pack. On the road into exile, he was ambushed by rogue wolves. Broken and hopeless, he stopped fighting altogether, ready to die. As Adrian's kept lover, I was about to abandon him and run for my life — until a flood of glowing comments rolled across my vision. [The villainess is finally showing her true colors. Once she's gone, there'll be nothing stopping the hero and heroine from meeting.] [But she doesn't know the hero is still alive. When he reclaims his Alpha title, the first thing he does is exile everyone who ever betrayed him — the villainess included. She gets torn apart by rogue wolves in the end, and honestly, she deserves it.] My blood ran cold. Before I could even think, I threw myself into the rogues and took a claw strike meant for him. Adrian stared at me in disbelief. I turned back to him, forcing a grin through the pain. "Adrian, don't you dare die on me — who's going to keep me fed?"

"N-No… Please, no… I can't fit in anything anymore…" I can only arch my hips up in the air on the hospital bed. My doctor is currently performing a check-up on me to find out the reason behind my intense lust. But he seems to be toying with my body. His palm keeps kneading my perky buttocks, and he even inserts a finger into my slit. The more I beg him to stop, the more excited he becomes. Unable to take it anymore, I turn back to look at him. Wait, that's not my doctor! Isn't that Eric Buckley, my college professor? The next thing I know, he thrusts into me heavily.

The contractions were ripping me in two. My vision was going dark. My husband, Don Vittorio, the man who ruled Chicago, squeezed my hand. His dark eyes burned with love. "Just a little longer, mia cara. You'll meet our baby soon." Sweat poured down my face. I still found the strength to smile for him. Then a nurse walked in. She held a syringe. I thought it was to stop the pain. But Vittorio’s hand fell away. He took a single step back. The needle sank into my arm. I heard Vittorio’s voice. It was cold steel. "Dose her carefully. She holds on until midnight. Not a minute sooner. Not until after Ornella delivers." And then I knew. He thought I married him for the money. He was stopping my labor. All for a sick Falcone family rule: the first son born is the next heir. Pain tore through me. I reached for him. Tears streamed down my face. I begged him to stop. He bit his lip. His voice was pure ice. "My brother is dead. Ornella carries his only heir. You will do as you are told. You and your child will not steal his birthright." The drug hit my veins. The violent squeeze in my belly, like some invisible hand, just… stopped.

After the night of the full moon, my daughter - Lily was declared lost to the Rampage—her mind shattered, her wolf consumed by madness. Pack law is clear: when a wolf-blood is deemed uncontrollable, their guardian must sign the Blood Pact. The moment the pact takes effect, their body belongs to the pack. My Alpha husband, Liam Blackwood, urged me to sign. He said it was an honor to serve the pack. He said our daughter would have wanted to save other pups. Holding our daughter's broken, wasted body, I wept until I had nothing left. But that night, at the end of the corridor, I heard her voice. Elena Vance. The pack's youngest Shaman Healer. And the woman Liam had loved before me—the one who got away. "Lily's marrow is a perfect match." "Once Sophie signs the Blood Pact, I can harvest the marrow and brew the antidote. It will save your daughter. Our daughter." Later, Elena's daughter walked out of that treatment center, healthy and whole. My daughter walked out in an urn. I stormed the Alpha Mansion to demand the truth. But before I could speak, Dark Magic ripped through my veins. My wolf surfaced against my will—violent, uncontrollable. The pack guards tore me apart. My last sight was Liam shielding Elena and her daughter from the bloodshed. "Don't look," he murmured, covering their eyes. "You'll have nightmares." I died clutching the wolf fang necklace my daughter left behind—burning with hatred, drowning in regret. Then I opened my eyes. I was back in the treatment center. Back in that sterile white room. Back before I signed my daughter's life away. I turned to the bed where my little girl thrashed against iron chains. This time, I swore it: They will pay. In blood.

The System told me that, as a player, I stood a chance of reviving my beloved if I played the game enough times. As such, I gave my heart to charm Mila Gibbs, even if it meant dying ninety-nine times. When I played the game for the hundredth time, Mila sent me into a room with a deviant just for her true love's fancy. "You're not going to die anyway. Just make Julian laugh, and I don't mind marrying you." She didn't know that once I played the game a hundred times, my wish would be granted, success notwithstanding. I shall hence disappear from her world without a trace.

Oliver took a job with the city's top hockey team to find out who murdered his father. He did not plan to sleep with Alexander Whitman. Alexander is the famous hockey captain. He is huge, cold, and strictly closeted. Their secret one-night stand changes everything. Alexander's touch is hot, rough, and totally addictive. But Alexander is hiding a dark secret. His real name is Alexander Montgomery. He is the billionaire heir to the exact family that killed Oliver's dad. When Oliver finds out the ugly truth, he runs. But the Ice King will not let him go. "I will give you my money, my fame, my whole life," Alexander whispers, pressing his hard chest against Oliver. "But I will never give you your freedom."

My fated mate left the pack, heartbroken, after I rejected him. Seven years later, he returned with his new mate-to-be. By then, the pack doctor had given me my final diagnosis. "Extreme wolf spirit decay." It was irreversible. My wolf would be gone within months. My life was at its end. My fated mate, Alpha Roric, now the most powerful Alpha in North America, smirked when he saw me. I was pale and thin, leaning on my sister for support. "Ayla. Seven years, and you're too weak to even stand straight? When you rejected me, didn't you say that beta was a better match? Where is he now?" His voice dripped with hate. I just tugged on the sleeves of my coat, hiding the way my fingers trembled. A tell-tale sign of my power slipping away. "It's just a cold." Roric's gaze swept over me like ice. "In that case, you should come to my Mating Ceremony with Cressida. I'll save you the best seat." I just smiled. "I can't. I'll be going somewhere far away soon. I'm sorry." Then, pulling my sister with me, I turned and melted into the shadows.

In order to take care of my father, who got hurt from a fall, I gave up on my chance to get promoted and even took a week's leave. On the day he gets discharged from the hospital, my dad hands me a mysterious envelope with a wide smile on his face. "Thank you for your trouble over the past few days, Luther. This is a little token of appreciation from me. You can buy yourself a nice pack of smokes." I rub my hands together, feeling warmth surging into my heart. But when I open the envelope, all I see is seven dollars. Still, I comfort myself in thinking that the sum isn't important at all. It's the thought that counts, after all. But the next day, I come across a social media post of my younger brother, Felix Grayson, who never showed his face around the hospital during Dad's hospitalization. It features a photo collage of a luxurious villa, with a photo of the purchasing contract smack dab in the middle of collage. The caption writes, "I bought the top-tier riverside villa for seven million dollars! Thank you so much for your support, Dad!"

After my ex-husband, Lucaro Ricci, has died, he turns into a ghost. Since then, he has stayed by my side as a shadow. Three years later, I walk into the church, hand-in-hand with Carlo Altieri, the oldest son of Lucaro's arch-nemesis. Everyone in the city chews me out for betraying Lucaro. Even Lucaro curses me out for being a scumbag. But I'm the only one who knows the actual reason. I've already made a wish to God in the church that I'll sacrifice my life in exchange for Lucaro's second chance in life.

On the day my wife, Abigail Jefferson, and Dominic Gorman, the university student she has been sponsoring, post their pre-wedding photos on their social media feed, I don't lash out at them crazily as I usually do. Instead, I leave a like and a comment on their posts. "You two make a great couple. Everyone, let's give our blessings to the newlyweds." Everyone in elite society thinks of me as the most cowardly husband ever, who lets the side piece make a doormat out of him. One week later, Abigail comes home and explains, "This is just an act. Dominic's grandma is ill, and she wishes to see him get married before she passes away." I just nod calmly in return. "I didn't take it seriously. Of course, I believe you." In my previous life, I showed up at Abigail and Dominic's wedding to cause chaos for them. Naturally, their wedding couldn't go on because of me. Abigail began targeting my parents' company in order to punish me. My parents ended up going bankrupt and were forced to jump off a building. She had me admitted into a mental asylum, where I was tortured to insanity. Now that I'm given a second chance in life, I no longer yearn for Abigail's love. I just want her money this time. Every time she cheats on me, I'll transfer some of her assets to my name. Abigail now has three more chances before she ends up losing everything.

On our third wedding anniversary, I brought a gift to my husband’s office. Walking past the secretary's suite, I stopped dead. A king-size bed had been set up inside. A young woman in a designer dress was sprawled across it, a handheld game console in her hands, surrounded by imported snacks of every variety. "Kevin, the lunch you ordered yesterday was pre-packaged meals. Marcus and I both felt sick after eating it. Today, make sure it's from The Palace Hotel." Kevin -- my husband's personal assistant -- bowed and scraped before her, his face a mask of obsequious flattery. "Mrs. Thorne, please don't worry. Mr. Thorne made it very clear -- everything should be tailored to your preferences and the baby's. He knows you love the chef at The Palace Hotel, so he set up a standing VIP account for you. Anything you want, anytime." She was Mrs. Thorne? Then what exactly was I? My brow furrowed. I glanced down at the wedding ring I'd worn for years. The girl beamed, radiant. "For the baby's arrival, my husband is throwing a lavish yacht party. Every important person in New York is getting an invitation. I want the whole world to know that I'm the love of his life, and that our son will be blessed by the most powerful people before he's even born. The champagne and flowers must be the finest available -- no budget limit. Our child is going to have the best of everything from day one." I stared at the gentle swell of her belly and called my father. "Dad, that divorce agreement you drew up three years ago -- you can have the lawyers send it over now."

One night, as I was making my way to the bathroom around 3 a.m., I saw my dormmate, Yvonne, squatting in front of our door. She was rearranging all our shoes so that their tips were pointed inward. I thought it was funny, so I rearranged them to have their tips pointed outward. The next day, I found that all of them had been positioned inward again. This kept happening for a week, and I continued to scramble things up, hiding the shoes, even, or tying the shoelaces together. But they always ended up being repositioned neatly inward. I started observing my dormmate and found her mumbling to the shoes while squatting at the door. I ranted about it online, only to have my first reply send chills down my spine. [Do you also get the weird feeling that something paranormal is happening around you? You have to move out before it’s too late!]

The zombie apocalypse had arrived, and pets could transform into guardians to protect their owners—each person was allowed no more than three. My best friend had spent a fortune on three Tibetan mastiffs. The landlord cleared out a fish tank to raise a crocodile. My boyfriend? He had stormed the zoo and dragged a lion home. And me? I only had three stray cats. The eldest was blind, the second one limped, and the youngest had just turned one month old. The moment the apocalypse system announced that pet slots were locked, I knew I was doomed. I tried to hide with my three disabled cats, hoping to survive quietly. Day one of the apocalypse: terrified… Day two: helpless… Day three: my cats sauntered over, tails swishing, carrying some unidentifiable object. "Mama, I bit off all the zombie heads on this street. How's that? Solid enough?" I was rendered speechless.