Cerita Pendek & Novel

Before our bonding ceremony, my mate, Alpha Zarya, told me she had to temporarily mark an Omega from our pack, Soren. She claimed he had a fatal moon-fade sickness, that his wolf was dying. If she didn’t mark him, he would die. I fought her on it. The next day, she moved Soren straight into the pack house penthouse. The suite meant for the future Head Mate. My suite. To calm me down, she even bowed her head—a rare show of weakness. “I’ll remove the mark as soon as he’s stable,” she promised. “You are still my only Head Mate.” But then Soren found me. He handed me a magical diagnostic report. Permanent Mark & Deep Knotting: Three Weeks. They hadn't just slept together. They had formed a permanent, deep-knotted bond long before she ever “confessed” to me. My world turned to ash. My pen bit into the calendar, scratching a vicious X over the date that was supposed to be our bonding ceremony. Then, I opened my laptop. The email from the Laureate Healers Guild of Europe was waiting. I typed two words. "I accept."

When my mother-in-law has a heart attack, my husband, who's a heart surgeon, is busy preparing food for his first love's cat. I call him and urge him to return to save my mother-in-law. He says icily, "What is wrong with you, Esther? How dare you curse my mother just to make me head home!" After that, he hangs up. My mother-in-law dies in surgery, yet he's busy watching a concert with his first love. When he returns the following day to see me holding an urn, he's so angry that he throws the bag he's holding at me. "Look at how Lexie was considerate enough to buy clothes for my mother. All you know how to do is get Mom to pull these dumb acts with you!" I sneer. His mother is already dead—what use are those clothes?

On the eve of our wedding, Trevin Hoffman's childhood sweetheart, a mercenary who had vanished for five years, was struck by a deadly love spell during a mission. When her teammates dragged her back to him, she was covered in blood, barely clinging to life. Trevin, usually calm and composed, lost control. Ignoring my protests, he locked himself in with her for the entire night. I sat outside that door, sleepless until dawn. The next morning, when I demanded an explanation in hysteria, he shielded her with his body and snapped, his mask completely gone. "I couldn't just watch Wren die. One wild night before marriage, what's so wrong with that?" At that moment, I was disillusioned. My love for him vanished in an instant.

I was three months pregnant when our enemies ambushed me on a private drive in Manhattan’s East Side. A bullet punched through the window. Glass buried itself in my shoulder. With the last bit of strength I had, I hit the Moretti family’s encrypted distress signal and called my husband, Adrian Moretti, for help. He didn’t come. Later, I found out he had pulled the Moretti family’s best trauma surgeon and security detail away that night to stay with his old flame, Evelyn Langdon. She had just lost her husband. She was carrying his child. She said a nightmare had left her gasping for air. I lost our baby in the emergency room. When I woke up, the first thing I saw was Evelyn’s new post. [Some people don’t need to ask. He’ll still drop everything and come running. Thank you, A. You always know what I need most.] In the photo, Adrian was kneeling by her bed, fastening the ruby necklace around her throat. The same necklace he had promised me for our tenth anniversary. I didn’t cry. I didn’t make a scene. I called Professor Clark. “Professor, I’ll take the classified seat at the Artemis Northern Institute. Start the Black Ice Protocol. Wipe my public identity as soon as possible.”

After I got pregnant, I witnessed my boyfriend's grandmother's death. She left behind a secret, and now, everyone who knows that secret is dead. First, it was my boyfriend's father who died. My boyfriend's mother followed soon after. Lastly, my boyfriend died too. He ended his life by overdosing right before my eyes. The media went wild. They dug obsessively for the truth. Again and again, the police summoned me for questioning. Online hate toward me was overwhelming. Everyone wants to know what the secret is. People claim I cursed my boyfriend's entire family to death, just to keep the secret to myself. I stay silent, never saying a word in defense of myself. On the seventh day after my boyfriend had passed, I spot someone at his funeral. At that moment, I place my hand on my swollen belly. I am utterly calm and at peace. It is time for me and my child to die too.

I have been able to smell people's emotions since I was a child. Love is sweet, and sadness is bitter. After being with Dante for ten years, the scent on him had always been sweet. Until last month, when my sister Sofia agreed to the arranged marriage with the Colombo family. In that very moment, the scent on him abruptly turned bitter. That night, I heard their suppressed voices: "Sofia, you clearly love me too, so why are you marrying that useless man?" My sister cried back at him: "You are Gia's fiancé, and she is my sister. We cannot continue this mistake." Only then did I realize the truth. My fiancé had been in love with my sister all along. I canceled the engagement party and booked a flight to Sicily in three days. But why was it that only after I left did they both go mad with regret?

I picked up the top university admission slot that the real heir didn't want. Horace Clark had gone crazy for love. He ran off with a failing student and dropped out, smashing the perfect life he had been handed. Meanwhile, I carried the label of an impostor who stole someone else's place. Step by step, I clawed my way up, became a rising name in the business world, and even married his childhood sweetheart. At the peak of my life, I opened my eyes again and found myself back in senior year, on the day we were filling out our college applications. And floating in front of me were lines of strange comments. [Brian, the fake heir, is a straight-up thief. He stole the life that was supposed to belong to the real heir, Horace!] [In his last life, the real heir completely lost his head over love. He dropped out of school, ran off with that rebellious troublemaker to start a business, and even handed his childhood fiancée to someone else. What a disaster. The guy was a total idiot!] [Good thing he gets a redo this time. The real heir has finally woken up. Now I really wanna see how the fake heir who stole someone else's life ends up crashing and burning.] I watched the comments quietly and sneered. Hate to break it to them, but the road I walked was carved out with my own hands. Even if Horace were reborn a hundred times, he still wouldn't be able to stop me from reaching the top and claiming my glory.

When I went to pick Diana Grant up, she just tossed the car keys toward me. Dangling from the silver ring was a plush white bear pendant. I paused, knowing that she had never kept a keychain or a decorative charm on her keys. Once I slid into the driver's seat, the entire alignment felt off. The seat had clearly been adjusted. "Did you let someone else drive your car?" I asked, keeping my voice casual. Dazed from the alcohol, she offered a dismissive shrug. "Yeah. I lent it to an employee for a quick business trip." I didn't press further. The next morning, the chime of the doorbell broke the silence of the house. When I pulled the door open, a shy, clean-cut young guy was standing on the porch. He blinked, then forced a sheepish smile and handed over a cup of coffee. "Hi," he stammered. "I'm just here to drop off a fresh coffee for Ms. Grant." But my attention wasn't on the coffee. My gaze dropped to his left hand. Twirling lazily around his index finger was a set of keys, and swinging from the metal loop was the same white bear pendant. I took the coffee cup from his hand and quietly closed the door. In the room, Diana's phone lit up on the table. A new notification flashed across the lock screen. It was a message that read: [Diana, I just met your husband. He looks kind of scary. Coffee was delivered safely anyway. Try to drink less alcohol next time, okay?] I picked up the phone and pulled up the video camera. With the recording running, I held the coffee cup over the kitchen sink and slowly poured the warm liquid down the drain. Then I uploaded the recorded video to Diana's social media, broadcasting it to her entire social circle. The caption read: [Thanks for the concern, but she doesn't drink coffee.]

I bloomed early, my curves more defined than other she-wolves my age. The year I came of age, my Alpha brother, Asher, was terrified I’d be snatched up by some rogue. He asked his best friend—Alpha Caden of the Nightshade Pack—to personally look after me. What my brother didn't know was that the very first time we met, Caden got drunk and took me. He pinned me against the wall, claiming me with a primal urgency. He left his scent all over me, kissing every inch of my skin like he was obsessed. But the next day, he told me that if my brother found out, he would kill him. And so began our four-year secret affair. For four years, I was his personal healer by day and his secret lover by night. Until his first love, an Omega she-wolf, came back. I watched them in a passionate embrace as Caden kissed her with a tenderness he never showed me. As for me? The same mouth that had been tangled with mine just yesterday was now spitting venom. "Aria, don't forget it was you who faked the scent of my fated mate to seduce me four years ago." "Are you going to make a scene and try to force me to marry you again?" In that moment, I finally saw him for who he truly was. I called my brother. "Asher, I'll do it. I'll accept the marriage alliance with the Silvercrest Pack."

"Does riding a horse feel good?" The saddle jolted beneath us as the horse trotted along. I steadied myself by holding the slender waist of my friend's alluring wife. Her skirt fluttered constantly in the wind. My friend was in a nearby house, completely absorbed in a card game—while right in front of him, I was out riding a horse with his beautiful, delicate young wife…

Three years ago, my husband’s brother took a bullet for him. So Gwen brought his brother's widow, Eliza, into our home. I was the Donna in name only. I had to step aside for Eliza in everything. Once, Eliza faked slitting her wrists. She said I drove her to it. Gwen grabbed my throat. Murder flashed in his eyes. "Get out. The Falcone family has no place for a venomous bitch like you." He gave her the family's art foundation to "make it up to her." It was supposed to be mine. This time, I said nothing. He was signing a stack of business contracts. I just slipped the divorce papers in with them. A few days later, he noticed I wasn't home. He searched all over Chicago. He couldn't find me. That's when he saw the divorce decree. He finally understood. I was gone. For good. That day, the untouchable king of the Chicago Outfit… shattered.

Caleb and I were the internet's most popular couple creators. Over the past four years, we have traveled to dozens of cities and made countless viral videos. However, Caleb was the only one who ever appeared on camera. Instead, I stayed behind the scenes and did all the filming, editing, and planning the content. I was also the one who made every video go viral. Every day, people in the comments would guess. "What does Caleb's girlfriend look like?" "She must be someone beautiful and talented to win Caleb over." Initially, I had always thought Caleb was waiting for the right time to introduce me. It wasn't until one night when Caleb liked a comment. "I have a feeling that Caleb's girlfriend is Jessica. After all, they have way too many matching things." Soon, people found more proof of their relationship. A limited PR gift box sent to us appeared in Jessica's vlog. The matching mugs I picked showed up at her place. Even the jacket Caleb only wore at home could be seen hanging on a chair in the background of her video.

A great white shark appeared during our holiday to the beach. My wife, Eunice Fuller, was a marine animal trainer. She deliberately cut our daughter Violet’s finger and used her blood to lure the shark away. She did that to save her first love’s son. By the time I arrived, the surrounding water had turned red with blood. I called Eunice and demanded an explanation. All I got was an impatient outburst. “For God’s sake, the rescue team’s already there! What more do you want? I taught her how to swim. What’s so wrong if I told her to hold off the shark for a little while?” I stared at Violet’s mangled body. My eyes were bloodshot with fury. I should have ended this marriage long ago. I would make every last one of them pay for this.

Around the seventh month of my pregnancy, I overheard a conversation between my mate, Zane Andrews, and Ciara Phillips, the she-wolf I had taken in out of compassion after her family was brutally slaughtered by rogues. In a sultry, flirtatious tone, Ciara purred, “Zane, my love, if your wife discovers that the fertilized egg I planted in her womb isn’t truly hers by blood, she’ll be devastated—perhaps to the point of despairing suicide, don’t you think?” Zane snorted, his voice dripping with disdain at the mention of me. “It’ll work for us if she simply dies from heartbreak. Damn it. I can’t shake the worry that she might sever our bond and leave me with nothing. Let’s keep this under wraps until our child inherits all her assets. Only then will we reveal the bombshell, plunging her into darkness.” Ciara giggled, praising Zane for his cunning. My claws itched to lash out, but I held back, knowing the time for confrontation wasn’t yet. My heart sank as their betrayal cut deep. Years ago, I had defied my pack elders’ warnings about Ciara being a potential threat, taking her in and grooming her into our pack's doctor, funding her education out of sheer empathy. Now, I regretted every moment of my kindness. To think that my mate, who had once begged for my protection for his fragile pack, had the audacity to betray me. If not for my support, his pathetic pack would have crumbled long ago, leaving him nursing his wounds in a dark corner, fretting over survival. After a long moment of contemplation, I made my decision. I would feign ignorance to their schemes and play along by giving birth to Ciara’s baby. Two decades passed. Ciara’s child grew up, bearing the name Simon Andrews. Aware of their treachery, I still transferred all my assets to him. Once the paperwork was completed, Ciara boldly approached me in front of the entire pack, a maternity DNA test in hand. With a smug smile, she declared, “Leia Holland, look at this! I am Simon’s biological mother. Leave h

My mate-to-be, Ethan, said he had some urgent work come up right before our planned full moon trip. He bailed. I was missing him like crazy, so I immediately drove for over ten hours to his city. I hadn’t told Ethan I was coming. There I was, flowers in hand, standing outside his mansion, ready to give my destined mate a sweet surprise. But then I caught the mixed scent of Ethan and another female werewolf. The scent was sickeningly familiar. Amber Collins. Ethan’s ex-mate. I fought back the burn in my nose, my eyes already red, and pushed the door open. And what did I see? Them, sharing a glass of red wine, cuddled up, practically on top of each other. When Ethan finally noticed me, he jerked his arm away from Amber, walked stiffly over, his voice laced with panic. "Scarlett, why didn't you tell me you were coming?"

"Let’s get married as soon as possible," said my fiancee, Clementine Knaupper, out of nowhere during dinner. I froze with the spoon in hand. Over the last three years, I proposed to get married seven times, and she turned me down all seven times with all sorts of reasons. Then, she told me with a shifty look in her eyes, "I… I’m two months pregnant. The pregnancy is going to start showing soon." I set aside my spoon and stared intently at her. "You were on a business trip two months ago, weren’t you?" She gulped before stating in a troubled voice, "The baby… is my assistant, Stanley Brickley’s. I had too much to drink that night, and I thought it was you. "The doctor says if I get an abortion, it will be difficult for me to have children again. After we get married, we can announce my pregnancy. We can tell people it’s our baby. "Then, I will send Stanley and the baby away. They won’t come back after that." I looked at the woman I had loved for seven years, and for the first time, I felt like I was looking at a stranger. "Clementine, let’s call off our engagement."

My three older brothers, Marcus, Jeremy, and Andrew Graham love me to the moon and back. Marcus clumsily practices peeling apples for me when I lie on a hospital bed. Jeremy blushes as he buys sanitary pads and prepares a warm drink for me when I have my period. Andrew spends all his pay to buy me new clothes and even declares, "Whoever bullies you will pay the price." He isn't shy to express his brotherly love for me. I once believed that my life would stay happy like this forever. However, my adopted sister, Mackenzie Falk, accuses me of swapping the graduation thesis she has been working on for three years. I suffer a heart attack on the spot.

On the day I'm diagnosed with dependent personality disorder, my family treats me like I'm the most fragile porcelain. My parents put me first in everything. Mom even quits her executive job to stay by my side during treatment. The day my condition finally stabilizes, they smile with genuine relief for the first time. Even my adopted older sister, Winifred Linberry, smiles. She says, "I told you Sadie wasn't that sick. She just wanted to hog your attention." That day, my parents scold her for the first time and insist she apologize to me. On the night she goes to a class reunion, I quietly mention that my heart feels a little uneasy. Dad suddenly slams the medicine box in his hand onto the floor. He roars, "Can't you be a little more considerate? Your sister just lost her competition and she's already upset! We've spent every day revolving around you. Can't we spend just a few hours with her? "If you don't feel well, take your medicine yourself. We've had enough!" The pills scatter across the floor. He grabs his jacket and storms out, slamming the door behind him. Mom looks at me, as if she wants to say something. In the end, she says nothing and follows him out. I don't say a word. I simply dig my fingernails into my arm as my breathing becomes more and more difficult.

My girlfriend, Kiara Sommer, gets one of her legs crippled in order to save me. Her adopted younger brother, Cain Fullton, suffers from heart failure after shielding us from harm. Since then, his heart becomes extremely weak, and he has to rely on the expensive imported medication just to survive. In order to gather enough money for their surgical bills, I take on a body-casting job in the black market. Not only are my limbs encased in scalding hot silicon, but I also have to endure it whenever a few female perverts cop a feel of me. I can't even move an inch when I'm doing my job. After all, I'll have to compensate for the damages if I ruin the mold. I can only grit my teeth and endure the agony, only to get slapped a few times in the face afterward. "You already have the guts to take on a job like this, and yet you're frightened of getting groped?" As I withstand the humiliation and the burning pain, I return to the hospital with the money in hopes of buying more medicine for Cain. When I walk past a VIP lounge, I hear familiar laughter erupting from within. "Kia, this is the 998th test, right? Once Shane passes 999 tests, are you really going to marry him?" Kiara frowns slightly at the question, though she soon replies coolly, "Yeah. The tests stem from my family's rules, and you're ordered to serve as the supervisor. But still, don't go overboard, yeah? Shane is the only one meant to be my husband." So, Kiara lies to me and torments me to this point just so she can marry me? As I stare at my broken and bruised reflection in the mirror, I feel my lips curling into a smile all of a sudden. With trembling hands, I dig out the old phone that I haven't used for the past two years. My eyes slowly redden as well. Then, I draft a text message. "I regret everything now, Winona. Please take me home."

My younger sister, Sofia Moretti, and I grow up on milk. While our peers are showing no signs of growth, both of us are blessed with an early puberty. Our father, a mafia Don, is worried that we might get tricked into giving our bodies away to young men at an early age, so he has been nurturing two confidants for us when we were still kids. After we come of age, Dad makes each of us choose one as a fiancé. Sofia is the first one to pick Dante, the tall, well-built, and cold-looking older brother. The only choice I have left is Luca, the younger brother who has gotten partially disfigured by an enemy and often wakes up in fright due to the nightmares. In my previous life, I knew that once I rejected Luca, who had PTSD from his past, he'd definitely get kicked out of my family. No one would be able to protect him anymore. So, I took the initiative to accept the marriage proposal. Since Luca tended to jolt awake from his nightmares and tremble violently, I moved to the room next door so that I could guard his door at all times. Whenever Luca was insulted or mocked by my uncles and relatives at family meetings, I'd dig out my pistol and slap it onto the table to shut them up. I spent three years accompanying Luca to therapy sessions. That was how I learned to pick up on every symptom he exhibited before he went into his anxiety mode. I thought I'd be able to touch Luca's heart by offering him my own. But when an enemy family set up a trap that resulted in my and Sofia's kidnapping, they plunged poisonous blades through our stomachs and forced Luca to choose to only save one of us with an antidote. That was when Luca gave the antidote to Sofia without hesitation. "Sorry, but Sofia needs the antidote more than you do." It turned out that Luca had been in love with Sofia this whole time. After Luca picked Sofia up and was about to leave, he murmured to me, "If there ever is a next lifetime, I'll use my life to pay this debt." My final memory of that lifetime consisted of the scorching pain that ate through my organs left behind by the poison. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day I'm supposed to pick out my fiance.