Short Stories & Novels

After five years of marriage, my wife’s childhood friend posted a photo of a property deed in his social media circle with the caption, [Thank you, Miss CEO, for transferring the house to me.] I was stunned when I saw the address on the deed—it was my home. Confused, I left a comment. [?] Almost immediately, my wife, Alice, called and scolded me. "He’s a single dad, so pitiful! I only transferred the house to his name to make it easier for his daughter to attend school. It doesn’t affect us living there. How can you be so heartless and lack even a shred of compassion?" In the background, I could hear her childhood friend complaining bitterly. Half an hour later, he posted on social media again and tagged me. This time, he showed off a $150,000 sports car with the caption, [Paid in full! As the saying goes, where a woman spends her money is where her heart lies.] I knew it was my wife who bought him the car to make up for upsetting him. But this time, I’ve made up my mind—I’m filing for divorce.

I've been with Hansen Fullerton for seven years. One day, he tells me he's sick of me and dumps me for a younger, more vivacious woman. I don't kick up a fuss this time. Instead, I throw away my ring and cut up the wedding gown I've just bought. Then, I take a red-eye flight away from Gold City. His friends place bets on how long it'll take for me to return and beg for reconciliation. Hansen sneers. "She'll be back in less than three days, crying and begging me to take her back." However, more than three days pass without any news from me. Hansen loses his cool and calls me for the first time. "You'd better come back once you've had enough of this, Christine." All he hears is a man's low chuckle on the other end of the line. "You shouldn't have taken this long to pacify a woman, Mr. Fullerton. Look at how someone's already taken her away from you." Hansen snarls, "Tell Christine to answer the phone!" Landon Shore lowers his head to kiss me. "She can't—she's still out of it. I have to kiss her awake first."

On Christmas Day, eight months pregnant, I struggled through the kitchen,cooking for my husband and his secretary. When I finally sat down, hoping to taste a piece of turkey I didn’t even get during Thanksgiving, my husband shoved me aside like I was nothing. He slid the turkey in front of his secretary instead. “Alison,you’re already so fat. Stop eating. Let Daisy have it—she deserves to enjoy your cooking.” Daisy，chewing on the turkey I had painstakingly prepared, had the audacity to mock me under the guise of playing truth or dare with my child. “So, what do you think your mom looks like?” “Mommy looks like a fat pig on a farm!” “Her stretch marks? They’re like disgusting worms crawling all over her. Even Santa would run for his life!” Their laughter erupted like daggers piercing me from all sides. Humiliation and rage burned through me as my dignity was stripped bare. I demanded an apology from that vile woman, but my husband—my husband!—turned his cold, cruel face toward me and said, “Get out of here.” Pregnant, exhausted, and humiliated, I stood there in shock. Then I snapped. I grabbed the Christmas cake and turkey and threw them in the trash. I walked out without looking back. This wretched family doesn’t deserve a second of my effort or a single ounce of my love!

That night, Liam served me my usual evening tea. I trusted him completely—he was my mate, after all, and a respected healer of Thornpack. I shouldn't have. When I woke up the next morning, my head was spinning. The special safe where I kept the morphing inhibitor—the one I'd spent my entire savings to import from Europe for our daughter Isla—was empty. Racing to the healing center, I found Liam celebrating. He was handing out moon-blessed wine, beaming with pride as Natalie's daughter Anna showed off her perfect transformation. My inhibitor had been used on his first love's pup instead of our own daughter. The shock triggered something in my brain. When I collapsed, they diagnosed me with the rare tumor that plagued our kind. Without inhibitors, I couldn't stop Isla's transformation that came early, her six year old body couldn't handle the massive wolf form and the force ripped through her young body. And I, for one, don't even have enough money to keep her in a treatment center. She died in my arms three days later, her little claws drawing blood as the pain overwhelmed her. Until her last breath, she kept asking why Papa hadn't come. Now, in my cold, empty home, with the white porcelain urn containing her ashes on the table, I touch her and decide to sever our partnership.

On my fiftieth birthday, my grandson pouted when he saw the present I had given him and complained, “Grandma Cecil at the Emerald Manor has a cooler present for me. It was a Transformer toy that flies.” I was confused by this remark. Emerald Manor was one of the wedding gifts offered when I got married. My husband was not fond of this place because it was too far away from the city, so I have rarely been here as well, and it has been vacant ever since. As we stood outside the manor, I could hear the cheery voices coming from inside the house. My husband and my adopted son were inside celebrating the birthday of the owner of the manor. The Grandma Cecil my grandson referred to was the childhood sweetheart of my husband, Cecil Houston, who was married off far away a long time ago. She remained as beautiful as she once was and was snuggled in my husband’s arms, surrounded by my children. I have dedicated myself to the Blightwells for two decades. This entire time, Cade has taken my commitment as nothing but a joke. When I was reincarnated, I found myself on the wedding day. I listened to the clamoring noises and lifted the veil to see the commotion. It was time to start over.

The day I received my medical report and found out I was pregnant, my husband—Alpha Scott Hansen—held a small wedding ceremony in the hospital garden with his first love and former mate, Gillian Boyd. He explained, “Her final wish in this life was to be my bride.” But what about me? What was I to him? A replacement? It finally hit me—ten years of unwavering devotion and sacrifice meant nothing compared to a single tear shed by his first love.

At twenty-eight, I held the dubious honor of being the last unmarried socialite on New York's Upper East Side. Everyone around me was growing increasingly anxious about my single status. In my previous life, my mother arranged a matchmaking cocktail party, where I was told to choose a husband from ten handpicked elite bachelors. I bribed the event planner to place Mark West's profile at the very top—and as I had hoped, I chose him. After we married, Mark treated me with what seemed like tender affection. He even bought me an oceanfront villa in the Hamptons, making me believe I had finally found true love. But that illusion shattered the day I was nine months pregnant, just hours away from giving birth. Mark drove a scalpel straight into my abdomen—then, right in front of me, hurled our newborn onto the floor. "If you hadn't forced me into this marriage with your family's power, Sofia wouldn't have been heartbroken enough to go drinking and get drugged and assaulted. This… this is what you owe her!" He tossed the scalpel aside, then calmly let his private doctor pin down my blood-soaked body. I fought through excruciating pain for six agonizing hours, until I finally bled to death. Afterward, Mark dumped my corpse into the Hudson River. But for Sofia, he hosted a grand funeral—funded with my money, under my name—and paraded himself to the world as a grieving, devoted widower. Given a second chance at life, I refused to step foot in that cursed matchmaking event. Instead, I went straight to my mother with a demand: marry me to Robert Black—the most ruthless, cold-blooded titan of Wall Street, whose scarred face was feared by all. In the end, stripped of my financial backing, Mark's hedge fund collapsed. He became a disgraced fraudster, spat on by everyone on Wall Street.

I’m getting married, but my CEO fiancé, whom I had been engaged to for ten years, had no idea. Thanks to his new personal maid, the man has no time to spare for me. The two of them always shadowed one another, and they might as well be sleeping in the same bed. My fiancé even bought a yacht and brought her to the Arctic to see the aurora when she was in a bad mood, completely forgetting that we were supposed to be picking out wedding gowns that day. I spent the entire day waiting in that bridal shop, waiting for a man who would never show up. So I called my dad, “I’m marrying someone else.”

On the day I got pregnant again, August decided to give up on gambling and work to provide for the family. I was so touched that I cried. With trembling hands, I handed him the money I had saved up after working odd jobs for a year. Two of the bank notes fell on the floor, and I picked them up before running after him. When I reached the end of the alley, I saw the mafia members who always came to our doorstep to demand repayment of our debt. They treated August respectfully. Apparently, his poverty was just a facade. “Mr. August, do we still need to surround your house and demand payment tomorrow?” August sat in a Lincoln limousine and said nonchalantly, “No need.” He stared at the ring on his finger and sighed. “It’s been years. It’s enough to prove that her love for me is real. She once worked so hard to pay off my debt that she suffered a miscarriage. “I already betrayed her once. It’s time to tell her about my true identity so that she doesn’t have to work so hard anymore.” But Ivy, his childhood friend, pouted. “You can’t! It’s not time yet to reveal the truth! What if she’s like your previous girlfriends and only cares about your money and your identity as a mafia boss? “You should wait a little longer and see whether she wants to have this baby.” August gave a wistful nod. “Alright. I’ll do as you say. In any case, she has been with me for so long. I don’t think she can leave me now.” I clenched the money in my hands and turned around. Tears streamed down my cheeks. I no longer wanted to live this lie dressed as love.

I leave my boyfriend without a word when he's at his lowest. He later makes a name for himself and forces me to marry him. Our relationship goes viral online and becomes the subject of everyone's envy. They all say he's desperately in love with me, but he later sleeps with other women in our bed. I fall from grace and become the city's biggest laughingstock. I don't cause a scene. Instead, I move into the guest bedroom and leave the master bedroom for them. He's furious as he grips my neck roughly. He bites my lips, drawing blood. "Why aren't you mad?" Because I'm sick. I don't have the time to wait for him to see the error of his ways anymore.

My relationship with my husband started when we were students. Even then, many people were envious of us. However, everything is ruined when I'm sullied after a drunken night. My reputation goes down the drain, as does my chastity. I've been caught red-handed—the man beside me in bed isn't my husband. I later find out that my husband is the one who set me up to take the fall. It's all because he wanted to save his true love—a woman he could never have.

Because I saved my husband during a car accident, I lost my eyesight. He wept, promising to treat me well for the rest of our lives to repay my sacrifice. I cooperated with the treatment wholeheartedly, hoping for a full recovery. But on the day I finally regained my sight, I stumbled upon something that shattered my world. In our marital home, his first love lay beneath him, her flushed face betraying the passion of the moment. Their bodies intertwined, and the air around them thick with stifled moans—a vivid tableau of infidelity. "She's just a blind woman. Why haven't you divorced her yet?" the woman murmured impatiently, her voice laced with disdain as she moved against him. My husband, immersed in pleasure, still mumbled an excuse. "My love, just a little longer. Soon, we'll be together openly…" I turned and left without a word, pretending I had seen nothing. As I walked away, I remembered the witch's sacrificial ritual in the misty forest—only a few days away. My husband's betrayal cut deep, carving wounds I couldn't ignore. I made up my mind to return to the forest, to embrace my identity as a witch once more, and to sever all ties with him. Yet, after I disappeared, word reached me that he was searching for me everywhere like a madman. Rumor had it he had completely lost his mind.

I had gained thirty pounds after I was pregnant for six months. My husband, Jordan Smith felt disgusted by me. He would rather stay at work than come home, and he fell in love with his girl best friend, Holly Brown. On our wedding anniversary, they were acting intimately in a private room. Meanwhile, Holly was wearing my wedding gown. I saw the whole thing with my own eyes. She had her arms around Jordan’s neck and said to me coyly, “It’s not what you think.” Jordan was agitated after he was caught cheating on me. “I’ve known her since we were kids. We have been best friends for so many years. If something were to happen between us, it would have happened a long time ago.” However, I saw the hickey on Holly’s shoulder. She said to Jordan, “Your wife looks obese. My cousin didn’t gain a single pound after she had given birth. Instead, she looked even slimmer. Jordan, did your wife secretly eat pig feed?” Jordan felt embarrassed. He instructed someone to lock me in a bedroom and starve me for a few days. I suffered from a miscarriage. Indeed, I lost the weight on my abdomen, but Jordan went insane.

After I became pregnant, my figure changed, and my face grew puffy. My fiancé began to treat me with a subtle, almost imperceptible sense of disdain. When the baby was five months along, it happened to be Valentine's Day. That day, he finally agreed to take our wedding photos, something I'd been hoping for. But just as we arrived at the bridal studio, his phone rang. "Mike, I just got back to the country. My friends are hosting a gathering, and everyone's bringing their boyfriends. Could you come and pretend to be mine?" It was a few short sentences, yet it completely altered the expression on his face. He turned abruptly, stepping out of the studio with a look of urgency. "Lucy's back. I have to go see her," he said. Hearing those words, a fire of rage ignited inside me, one I couldn't suppress. "For her? You're going to leave me here alone?" I demanded. "Do you even know how long I've been looking forward to today? It's Valentine's Day, and instead of staying with me, you're going to be with her?" His impatience flared visibly as I stood my ground. Without a word, his hand pushed me aside, and he strode out of the shop. "We can take wedding photos any day. I'm the only one Lucy has in this country. I have to go see her," he said. Then, gripping my wrist with alarming force, he shoved me, sending me sprawling to the floor. Without a backward glance, he got into his car and drove off. I felt a sudden, wet heat flowing from my lower abdomen. Pain surged through my stomach, sharp and unbearable, as my consciousness started to fade. A wave of despair and terror consumed me. Someone. Anyone. Please save my baby.

Three years ago, Moon-Lake Pack — once a proud member of Lupus Celestial, the central pack alliance — lost everything in a brutal defeat to the Rogue Packs that had long plagued us. The Lycan King believed my father — the Alpha of Moon-Lake — had conspired with the Rogues, and our pack paid the price. My father and I were enslaved and cast out, becoming the laughingstock of all the packs. Even my mate, Chase, turned his back on me. But three years later, I was sent back to Lupus Celestial by Chase’s order — just as he was preparing to bond with his future Luna. Everyone assumed I had returned to sabotage the ceremony. “Taryn, do you still think you stand a chance of becoming his Luna?” “Chase never liked you. He’s always adored Wynette.” “Why would you show up now — just before he bonds with his mate?” Warnings, veiled threats, and even silent beatings made one thing painfully clear: I was not welcome. And Chase — the one I had once believed was my fated mate, the one I’d felt an unexplainable pull toward — stood by, cold and detached, watching it all in silence. His eyes held nothing but loathing. “You still think you can live freely outside Lupus Celestial after betraying us time and again? What exactly are you plotting at my bonding ceremony?” I let out a bitter laugh and wiped the blood from my lips. He didn’t know my wolf had been gravely wounded by a silver dagger — and I didn’t have much time left. “Don’t worry. If I hadn’t been dragged back, I’d never have returned. And if I truly wanted to cause trouble, I’d have killed myself first.” Chase didn’t respond. He just scoffed. But when I walked away — from his pack, from his world — he was the one who crumbled. He begged me to return, as if losing me shattered something deep inside him.

I am the Lycan King's only daughter and the rightful heir to the werewolf crown. When I was seven, my father chose four of the strongest and most striking alpha heirs from the four great packs to be my potential mates. He poured endless resources into raising them, grooming them to one day help me manage the council. It was not long before they became the center of attention of the entire kingdom. Everyone called them ‘The Apex Four’. However, I always knew they were not really interested in me, but in what they could gain from me. Even the one I secretly loved, Thorne, started to drift away from me when he became interested in another woman. After my father was gravely injured, he asked me which of the four I wanted to mate with. I could only give him a bitter smile. Rather than choose, I opted to draw lots and let the Moon Goddess decide my fate. Fate chose the most infamous of them all: Lucian. On the day I announced my mate, the last thing I expected was Thorne to break down and beg me not to leave.

I used to be the one and only girl spoiled by my family. But everything changed on my 18th birthday, when my father adopted a she-wolf orphan named Sophia from the Werewolf Charity House. My elder brother, Alex, started to love her more and began to look down on me. My mate, John, who had grown up with me, liked her and ignored me. Even my father said that Sophia, an orphan, was ten thousand times better than his own birth daughter. It was my graduation day from Werewolf University. But instead of celebrating with me, they broke their promise because of Sophia.The 101st time. I counted. And it hurt worse than all the hundred before. I couldn't help crying out, "Am I really part of this family?" My father looked at Sophia—whose eyes turned red because of my words—with pity. Then he slapped me across the face. "You're still fighting for affection? I wish I had never given birth to you," he shouted. Alex snapped at me too. "You make me sick. I'm ashamed to have a sister like you. Get out of this den!" I didn't say a word. I simply packed up my things and left in silence. After I left, the den fell into a strange quiet. They took Sophia to the South Pole to see penguins, as if nothing had happened. No one contacted me or showed concern, because they assumed I would eventually come back—just like before. They never planned to do anything for me. They never had. But this time, they didn't know I was leaving for real. I called my mother, who lived in another pack far away, and told her I'd finally agreed to go live with her. Because this time, the family… Was no longer a place I needed.

My husband died in a fire trying to save me, leaving behind a mountain of debt and a newborn child. I worked hard to pay off the debt while raising the child, only to unintentionally discover that my husband hadn’t died at all. Instead, he was sleeping with my cousin. “Honey, you’re so clever. You transferred all the company funds and faked your death, leaving that stupid wife of yours to shoulder all the debt. “She’s so clueless that she doesn’t even realize the son she’s raising isn’t hers, that I swapped him out. Once she’s done paying off the debts, the three of us can live a great life together.” I silently sneered, pretending I knew nothing, and continued to raise the child. Twenty years later, my son returned home after studying abroad. The company went public in New York. On the day of the IPO, my cousin appeared arm in arm with my husband, holding a paternity test. “Claire, your husband never died. We’ve been together all these years. Alex is my son. Now that you’ve been his mother for so long, isn’t it time to return him to me?” My husband also presented a divorce agreement. “I built this company from scratch. It’s premarital property. Sign the divorce papers, walk away with nothing, and you can leave now.” I smiled and told him, “I’ve prepared a special gift for you too. I wonder if you’ll like it."

I'm a dance major who's preparing for her exams. Everyone thinks I'm a good girl, but there's one thing they don't know about me—I've fantasized about being violated more than once…

On the night of the Blood Moon Pack's grand ceremony, my Alpha fiancé Ethan solemnly announced before all pack members that we would soon complete our lifelong marking. The pack's blessings surged toward us like a tide. My face flushed red as I pressed against his strong chest, which carried the scent of pine. Suddenly, a figure blocked the moonlight at the temple entrance. Ivy, my friend who had vanished five years ago, stepped inside, accompanied by a pup with eyes like stars. Ignoring everyone's gaze, she walked straight toward us. Her collar slowly slipped down, revealing a deep Alpha bite mark on her neck. Under the moonlight, that mark was as shocking as a brand. "Lucas, come to meet your father."