Cerita Pendek & Novel

In our pack, every wolf has one chance in their lifetime to use an enhancement elixir to strengthen their wolf abilities, but this elixir is only effective when brewed by oneself. In my previous life, I worked day and night brewing my wolf enhancement elixir to become the Gamma of our pack. But on the day of the selection, after I shifted into my wolf form, I completely lost control. My wolf immediately prostrated itself at the feet of Victoria, the Beta's granddaughter. Amid the cheers of the entire pack, Victoria became the new Gamma. Meanwhile, I was beaten and ridiculed. Everyone claimed I had stolen Victoria's enhancement elixir, which was why I couldn't control my wolf. They cut off both my hands and threw me into a silver mine. I died in excruciating pain in that silver pit, my very bones corroded by the silver. Until my dying breath, I couldn't understand—how could the elixir I brewed myself make my wolf submit to Victoria? When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to one week before the Gamma selection of the pack. This time, I gave up my right to compete and entered the forest alone to train for battle. Beta Richard stood at the empty doorway of my house, questioning me through our mind-link about why I was leaving the pack at such a crucial time. Meanwhile, I was removing my protective amulet, shifting into my wolf form alone to fight in the territory of the Rogue wolves.

After five years of marriage, my husband, Abel Brooks goes on a business trip that lasts half a year. When he returns, he brings his first love, Cora Garrett, back. She's already three months pregnant. Abel says that life is tough for her and wants her to move in with us temporarily. I object, and he tells me to know my place. His tone is scornful—it seems he's forgotten that the villa we live in was one of my wedding gifts. He and his family have leeched off me all this while. This time, I'm going to stop providing for them. I smile and call my assistant. "Draft a divorce agreement for me now. To think a live-in son-in-law would have the nerve to bring his mistress home like this."

I was nine months pregnant when a man ambushed me, dragging me to the rooftop and repeatedly stabbing me. He had a grudge against my husband for replacing him. Meanwhile, my husband, a rescue team leader, was frantically coordinating efforts to stop his depressed ex-lover from burning down a rental apartment. I never called for his help. In a previous life, I had desperately called him, and he had abandoned his ex-lover to rush to my side. As a result, my child and I survived the attack, but his ex-lover perished in the fire she ignited. My husband seemed unfazed, even booking a VIP delivery room for me. Yet, on the day I was to give birth, he bound me and brutally stabbed our newborn multiple times. "You were in on this plot, weren't you?" he snarled. "Those wounds? They're nothing! You weren't even close to dying!" "Oh, you like being stabbed so much? I'll give you exactly what you want!" Suddenly, I found myself back on the day of the kidnapping. This time, I decided to let him go save his precious ex-lover.

To encourage overall development, the kindergarten had asked each student to create a hand-drawn poster. My daughter Holly refused my help and insisted on doing it all on her own. Little did I know, most of the other children had their parents do the artwork for them. In comparison, Holly's delicate strokes were quickly dismissed. Not only was her work discarded into the trash, but her teacher also called her out in the parent group, criticizing her for being careless with the assignment. As I racked my brain trying to figure out how to help Holly regain her confidence in drawing, I was surprised to see Holly's artwork among the winning entries in the state-level children's art competition. But the signature wasn't hers—it belonged to another student from her class.

My husband finally keeps his promise to take me on a trip abroad after I've given birth to his child. However, he disappears the moment we get off the plane. I roam the foreign land alone, unable to reach him. Two hours later, I stumble upon his childhood sweetheart's social media update. It's a photo of her and my husband sweetly feeding each other ice cream. It's captioned, "Someone who cares about you has you in their heart wherever they are." After a long silence, I comment, "Now you can live in his heart forever." I walk away after leaving nothing but a divorce agreement behind. That's when my husband, who's always been cold and aloof, panics.

My husband's childhood friend says she wants her crystal beads to soak up some of the good luck in our home. Because of that, he scatters the beads on the floor, making me slip and miscarry. I'm in agony as I lie on the operating table. I call my husband incessantly, but all he does is block my number. I lie in the hospital ward after the operation. I see my husband's childhood friend's social media update—a photo of him worshipfully holding out a certificate while getting down on one knee. It's captioned, "He loves me so much! I said I'm interested in running a business and he actually set up a company for me!" On the day of the branch company's grand opening, my husband's childhood friend wears an expensive custom-made gown. Meanwhile, I wear her discarded goods. I'm barred from even entering the building. I suppress my bitterness and call my lawyer. "Are the divorce procedures done?"

My husband threw me into the crocodile pit to help his childhood sweetheart, who was a KOL, gain popularity. To make the live stream more realistic, he personally tossed bait at me. “Have you not eaten? My grandma can run faster than you!” He watched as I bled from my abdomen, believing I was just pretending to be pitiful. When I asked for a divorce, he kicked me to the ground. “Since you love pretending to be pitiful to ask for a divorce, why didn’t you just let the crocodile kill you?” I handed him a medical report. “My child died because of you. Does this count as pretending to be pitiful?”

Because I had a face that screamed 'pick-me girl', I became the target of my mother's deepest hatred. She claimed that just seeing me made her sick, bringing back memories of my father's affair. In retaliation, she channeled all her affection into helping a child from a poor village, praising her for being kind and genuine while insisting she loved her hundreds of times more than she ever loved me. But then that same girl went behind my back and seduced my boyfriend, and my mother reacted by hitting me across the face repeatedly. "How did I end up with such a shameless daughter? You're the third wheel, and you're accusing her of being the other woman!" Yet when I fell gravely ill with cancer, she was beside herself with grief, begging for forgiveness while praying earnestly. "How could I not love you, my dear? I've made such terrible mistakes…"

I was in a temporary shock from an allergic reaction. The two guys I had grown up with didn't even look my way. One of them was busy helping Vivian Byrd carry a pile of gifts, while the other was snapping pictures of her at some popular social media spot. It was a stranger passing by who called an ambulance and got me to the hospital, saving my life. The next day, Vivian called, her tone almost smug. "Trish, Zeke and Hendrick were so exhausted after shopping with me yesterday. I heard you threw a tantrum and ended up in the hospital. Should I come visit you?" I simply replied, "No need." Zeke Benson and Hendrick Peay were my childhood friends. They once treated me like I was everything to them—promising to pluck the moon and stars from the sky and to protect me forever. But ever since Vivian came into the picture, their world no longer revolved around me. I thought for a moment and then dialed my mother's number. "Mom, I'll accept the marriage arrangement."

I spent five years chasing Tyler Watson, only to get kidnapped right in front of him. He just stood there and watched. As a result, I suffered. After I escaped, he acted all high and mighty and proposed to make up for his tiny bit of guilt. The second we got our marriage certificate, the Simp System’s voice rang in my head. “Congrats, host! You’ve completed your mission.” Just like that, my sanity finally returned. While Tyler waited in a hotel for me to bring him contraceptives, I went live to expose his cheating. For good measure, I even called the anti-vice office to report my dear husband for soliciting prostitutes.

"I've decided to join your pharmaceutical research institute and continue with my medical research, Mr. Clark." Melvin Clark chuckles. "Your husband loves you so deeply. Will he agree to let you go abroad for medical research?" "This is my decision to make. It has nothing to do with him." "Alright, then. When will you arrive?" "In a week." "Okay. I'll be waiting." "There's one more thing. Do you need a tester for the memory-erasing potion you developed?" Melvin's voice turns grim. "Are you saying…" "Send me a bottle. I'll test it."

My boyfriend was both poor and mute, yet we were deeply in love. When the earthquake struck, he clawed at the rubble with his bare hands to save me. His ten fingers were reduced to raw, bloody stumps. I worked three jobs just to support him, often pushing myself to the brink of exhaustion. Most days, I was so hungry I fainted. But I never imagined the truth—he had only pretended to be mute to deceive me. And he wasn’t poor at all. In fact, he was the wealthiest man in the city. He could casually order a Ferrari worth millions for his first love, without so much as a second thought. Yet he spent the 10,000 dollars I had painstakingly saved on a handbag for her, leaving me unable to pay for my grandmother’s surgery. She died, helpless and in agony.

My husband persuaded my daughter to donate her kidney to save his lover. After the surgery, he stayed by his lover’s side and neglected my daughter who developed kidney failure that led to her death. When I confronted the nasty couple, they refused to believe that my daughter had passed away and kicked me out by force. Afterward, I took my daughter's ashes to her eighteenth birthday party where my husband showed up with his lover and tore down all the decorations, going as far as to scatter my daughter’s ashes. He then accused my late daughter of undermining his lover’s career. When he finally had to accept that his daughter was dead, he still insisted on defending his lover. Eventually, I showed him proof that it was his lover who refused the hospital’s proposed organ donor so that she could plot to take my daughter’s kidney instead. Upon finding out the truth, he lost his mind and killed his lover. Now that those two have gotten what they deserve, I bring my daughter’s ashes and travel to the places she had always wanted to go to.

After my engagement to Simon Page, he secretly planned a trip abroad with Yara Watson, the woman he had loved for years. The day before their departure, he was chatting with his friends and Yara in the lounge of a golf club. "Simon, you just got engaged, and you're already taking Yara on a trip. Aren't you afraid Rosalyn will find out?" Simon scoffed. "I hired a guy to pose as her suitor. He’ll keep her so occupied that she won’t have time to bother me. "If something really happens between them, even better. I can use it as an excuse to officially end the engagement and be with Yara openly." Standing outside the door, I trembled as his words sank in. Tears streamed down my face as I looked at the handsome man behind me, his expression filled with guilt. "Then let’s grant him his wish and get married." But just as I was preparing for the wedding, Simon suddenly knelt before me in agony. "Rosalyn, I was wrong. Please, don’t marry him!"

After being reborn, I'm taken back to the day I confessed my love for my childhood friend. In my past life, I had to plead and beg before he begrudgingly agreed to marry me. "You look pathetic when you beg me for anything, Annabelle." That was what Hayden Gulman always said to me. He was so cold to me that he even canceled the part where we read our vows to each other during the wedding. When I was eight months pregnant, he took a photo of my belly covered in stretch marks. Then, he complained to his true love about the unhappiness he faced after marrying me. When I went into a difficult labor due to my agitation, he and his true love were on vacation. At that moment, my heart finally died. It turned out my one-woman show couldn't be considered love at all. Now that I've been reborn, I smile when I see the disdainful look in his eyes. I say, "We have nothing to do with each other from this moment on. I only wish to be happy."

My ex-boyfriend’s first love insisted on dragging me onto the drop tower ride, which caused me to have severe bleeding from the trauma. When it happened, he used her fear of blood as an excuse to cover her eyes and hurry away, abandoning me in a pool of blood. In that critical moment, Steven Landers, the amusement park designer, rushed me to the hospital just in time. After losing the baby, I was completely devastated. Then to my surprise, he got down on one knee at the amusement park and proposed, promising me happiness for the rest of my life. After we got married, I became pregnant again. But I accidentally stumbled across his chat with a ride maintenance worker. "Mr. Landers, your wife already lost a child because of Miss Smith. You mentioned she has difficulty getting pregnant, so why are you pulling the same trick to get her on the drop tower again?" Steven casually touched his wedding ring and replied, "She's the reason Anne can never be a mother, so I absolutely won't let Myla give birth to a child that would upset her." "But that's your child too! How can you do this?" "So what? This is what she owes Anne. The drop tower is the perfect way to make it look like an accident. Tomorrow is Myla's birthday, and I'll personally take her on the ride. If she tries to run, I need all of you to help catch her!" So that was his plan all along—to use the drop tower to cause another "accident" and make me lose my baby!

After an accident and miscarriage, Hansel Saddler and I are so devastated that we're both diagnosed with depression. For the next five years, I try my best to act like I'm normal as I care for him and try to cheer him up. This lasts until I overhear him speaking to the psychologist at the clinic's door. "Work's been getting busy lately, and pretending to be depressed makes it inconvenient to deal with that. Can you change my diagnosis to manic disorder?" The psychologist giggles. "You have been quite manic lately, darling. You've been making me feel really sore down there." "I can make you feel even more sore now." Then, I hear moans and groans. It turns out everything I've done over the past five years is nothing but a joke. I pull up my conversation with Colin Foster. "I agree to undergo secluded treatment deep in the mountains abroad."

On Valentine’s Day, I discovered that my brother’s fiancee, Erika Gibson, was cheating on him. So, I tried to tell my brother, Nathan Clinton, about it. However, he yelled at me. He said that I was trying to ruin his relationship and told me to leave. Erika then asked her lover to deal with me, so he kidnapped me. He mocked me for being unable to speak and forced me to sell 200 roses at the night market. I asked Nathan for help, but he replied impatiently. [Moon, I can’t believe you’d lie about something like this… I don’t have time for your games.] I was accidentally hit by a truck while Nathan was having a wonderful time with Erika. Haha. I was finally free, but I wished I had a different brother.

After six years with Joel, Lyra landed in the hospital—sick and drained. The day she got discharged, she caught something in the hallway she wasn't supposed to hear. "Joel Fenwick, are you out of your mind? You gave Lyra's bone marrow to Renee without telling her? You knew her health was trash and lied about it being a stomach issue just to make her do it?" Renee. Joel's childhood flame. The girl he never got over. Lyra didn't cry. Didn't freak out. She just picked up the phone, called her parents overseas, and said yes to an arranged marriage with the Windsors.

I was like the pure and innocent Cinderella of a school romance novel. Unlike the aristocratic students around me, I didn't come from wealth or privilege. I earned my place at this elite academy through merit alone, my high scores opening the gates to a world far beyond my means. Cinderella is supposed to be stubborn, proud, and righteous—standing tall despite her humble origins. But I have none of those qualities. All I have is poverty.