Histoires courtes & Romans

On the night of my graduation party, just before my first shift, my boyfriend's childhood sweetheart discovered I might awaken Alpha bloodline. She tricked me into eating a layered cake laced with silver powder. I'm extremely sensitive to silver. After eating it, my chest heaved violently, my eardrums buzzed, and I gasped desperately for air with my mouth wide open. Lynette laughed like a maniac. "There's just a tiny bit of silver powder in that cake. Are you seriously overreacting like this? Who are you putting on this show for?" I collapsed on the ground like a dying dog, begging my boyfriend. "Tyler, please take me to the hospital. I'm really going to die." My boyfriend Tyler Cross looked at me coldly. "How much silver powder could possibly be in such a small piece of cake?" "Lynette's writing her graduation thesis on how Alpha bloodlines suppress silver poisoning. She just needs a little help from you. Do you really need to fake being dead?" My breathing became more and more labored. I stopped begging him. Instead, I pulled out my phone and sent an emergency message with my location to my father, the Alpha King.

Isaac Chance and Madeline Snow were once the model couple of Shorestone City and the target of everyone's envy. After getting engaged, everyone thought they would soon walk down the aisle together. However, there is no news of a wedding for six years. In the end, all Madeline gets is the news of Isaac returning to the country with another woman by his side. He doesn't hesitate to hurt her countless times for the woman's sake. When her grandmother is on the brink of death after an illness, Madeline has no choice but to get into a shotgun marriage. After leaving city hall with her marriage certificate, she ponders the situation. It turns out getting married is simple… as long as her husband isn't Isaac.

After three miscarriages for Xavier Lowe, I see it—my mother-in-law has three years left, my father-in-law nine years, and my sister-in-law two years. I say nothing. After the third miscarriage, my mother-in-law blames me, calling me a curse who "kills" children. My sister-in-law sneers, saying she almost died in a car crash the year I married Xavier—as if my bad luck dragged her down. My mother-in-law snaps, "She can't even keep a child. It must be because she's cursed!" Xavier just stands there, silent. He doesn't say a single word for me. I know that, deep down, he believes that I bring bad luck. Maybe it's also because he already has someone else—his secretary, Yvette Snyder. His mother has always liked her better, and he clung to her the night I lost my third child. I don't explain because I know the truth will only destroy them faster. On my 28th birthday, I catch a glimpse of my own countdown in the mirror. On that day, I take a leave of absence. I go to the funeral home and pick out an urn—pure white, just like the wedding dress I once wore. Wearing a beautiful floral dress, I text Xavier, asking him to meet me at the lake where we first met ten years ago. I wait from daylight until nightfall as my countdown ticks to zero. I die, and he never shows up.

After a sudden, brutal breakup, I unexpectedly ran into Pierce Donovan at a hotel—with another woman in his arms. He coldly told me he wasn’t interested in my body. But that all changed when I knocked on his door late at night, wearing something a little more daring. Before I could react, he pulled me into his arms, his voice low and commanding, "Don’t cover yourself. I want to have a good look at you."

My husband, Hank, is dead.  On our wedding anniversary, he ventured out in the pouring rain to buy me a cake, only to be hit by a truck. His body was badly mangled in the crash.  My sister-in-law, Lyra, called me a killer, claiming that I did not deserve Hank’s inheritance.  My mother-in-law, Judy, kicked me out of the house.  Overwhelmed by grief and guilt, I often wondered if he would still be alive had I stopped him that day. Eventually, emotions gripped me, and I was diagnosed with cancer.  Judy came to visit me on my deathbed. “You’re an idiot to believe everything!”  She threw a family photo in my face.  The shock and anger were more than I could handle, and I breathed my last.  It turned out that Hank was never dead. He had a child with his old flame.  When I opened my eyes once more, I returned to the day my husband faked his death.

I don't expect to be reunited with Reyn Aldric, the heir of Frostfang Clan, at a banquet to celebrate his ascendance. I also don't expect him to throw me out heartlessly. As I walk along a deserted street, my mind replays Reyn's mocking words. "You abandoned me for money and status, Ms. Valtara. Do you regret your actions now that I've become an heir? Throw this materialistic gold digger out! I don't want to see her anywhere near me!" And so, I'm thrown out of the banquet hall just like that. I fall to the floor. It's been five years. I didn't think he would still hate me so. Then again, it makes sense. Who wouldn't hate someone who left them when they were on the brink of death? But my dear Reyn isn't dead. He's alive and well; he can even get mad at me without worrying about it affecting his health. I'm about to die, though. I don't even deserve to be emotional. Why? Because my Heart of the Wolfkin beats in Reyn's body.

The day after my Alpha mate's precious childhood sweetheart Sage accused me of sending rogue wolves to attack her, my mate Kael, along with our two sons, suspended my brother above a massive cauldron of boiling silver, threatening to throw him into the molten metal that would burn him alive. I went insane, rushing toward them, but the pack warriors held me back with iron grips. "Do you understand your mistake now?" Kael stood nearby in his perfectly tailored suit, his eyes cold as winter frost, his voice laced with ice. "Will you ever dare to hurt Sage again?" "I didn't attack her!" I cried, struggling against the warriors' hold. "Kael, let my brother go! He's only eighteen! He just got accepted to Harvard!" Five-year-old River crossed his small arms, his face emotionless. "The evidence is clear. Why are you still lying?" Four-year-old Stone nodded along, his tone innocent yet cruel. "Mommy, if you're so scared of Uncle dying, you shouldn't have attacked Aunt Sage. She's our precious one." My heart contracted violently. Sage was their precious one. Then what was I? What did I mean to them? I looked toward Kael, hoping he might spare my brother for the sake of our years as mates. But he only stared at me coldly, his gaze like he was looking at a complete stranger. I suddenly laughed, though tears streamed down my face. They thought it was just a dummy tied up there and they were just trying to scare me. They didn't realize that Sage had someone switch out that dummy. What's frying in the silver now is my dear little brother. In the boiling silver, my brother's body was already burned beyond recognition. But when I completely gave up and left, why did three men kneel down and beg me to come back?

Everyone knew Peter was crazy about me. But five years into our marriage, he knocked up his mentor's daughter. Crying, Cindy grabbed his hand. "I won't let Yuna know." Peter just stared her down. "You'd better not. I'm only helping you because I owe your dad. Don't get any bright ideas." She had the baby on my birthday. Peter looked at the kid like he was already in love. Then Cindy, all smug, texted me: [Ms. Zander, don't you think my baby deserves a dad with a real title?] I signed the divorce papers and caught a flight to Hampsburg.

My brother, Theo Sorento, died in a plane crash on his way back home just to celebrate my birthday. They never found his body—only wreckage. Ever since, my parents forced me to kneel in front of his grave every year on my birthday, demanding that I repent for surviving when he didn’t. Then came my eighteenth birthday. I realized someone was following me. Panicked, I sent a few messages asking for help. Just then, Mom called, not to check on me but to lash out. “I know exactly what you're doing. You’re just making up excuses so you don’t have to kneel in front of your brother’s grave! You’re a liar. Why wasn’t it you who died instead of him? You’re a walking curse!” Before my phone was smashed under a boot, the last thing I heard was the cold click of her hanging up. Then, I was cut up into pieces, and what was left of me was tossed across the city. My father, the lead forensic pathologist on my case, didn’t even recognize me. Later, Theo returned alive with his wife, whom he had eloped with eight years ago. When they found out the pile of rotting flesh was me, they all went insane.

It had been five years since my mate Ethan Blackwood secretly marked me. Then his brother, the Alpha of the Shadow Moon Pack, died in the territorial war. To become the next Alpha of Shadow Moon, Ethan inherited everything his deceased brother left behind. Including his widowed sister-in-law, Victoria. After every time Ethan shared Victoria's bed, he would hold me close and whisper reassurances: "Autumn, just wait a little longer. Once Victoria gets pregnant, we'll have our Mating Ceremony!" This was the pack's only requirement for him to inherit the Alpha position. In the six months since returning to Shadow Moon territory, Ethan had gone to Victoria's chambers countless times. From once a month in the beginning, to now almost every other day. Finally, after countless nights of sitting alone until dawn, news came that Victoria was pregnant. But along with this announcement came another—Ethan and Victoria would be holding their Mating Ceremony. "Mommy, is someone having a Mating Ceremony here?" my daughter asked. I looked around at the stark contrast to our sparse living quarters. The main hall was filled with flowers and balloons. People bustled about outside, everyone joyfully preparing for their Mating Ceremony. I pulled my innocent daughter into my arms: "Yes, sweetheart. Your father is having a Mating Ceremony with someone he loves, which means it's time for us to leave." Ethan didn't know that we wolves of the Silver Crescent Pack never cared about so-called Mating Ceremonies. In Silver Crescent, female wolves were revered. My mother was the current Alpha, and I only needed to bear an heir to the pack to inherit her position. I dialed a number I hadn't called in five years: "Mother, I already have an heir now. I'm ready to come home and claim your Alpha position."

On Thanksgiving, my husband Steven Mandel showed up with another woman. Not just anyone—Fiona Osborne, his first love. She had Alzheimer's and only remembered him. And yeah, he said she was moving in. Steven's eyes were ice. "Erica, I stayed away from Fiona out of duty. But I'm not wasting what time I have left without her." Happy 50th anniversary to me. No gift—just a slap-in-the-face love confession. Maya, my daughter-in-law, tried to talk some sense into him, bless her. Then Anton—my own son—cut in. "Mom already kept Dad away from Fiona for years. She's tied ME to you for half my life. Now Dad just wants to take care of the woman he loves—what's so wrong with that?" Steven stepped in front of Fiona like some kind of hero. "Anton's right. Erica, I let you play the wife role for decades. Now, I want to be with the woman I truly love. "If you can't handle that, let's just get a divorce." I stood there, frozen. I'd walked away from a powerhouse law career for this family after we had Anton. I thought I had given everything, and in their eyes, I would be a perfect wife and a perfect mother. But today made it clear—I was never enough. No matter how much I gave, it was never going to be enough. I turned to Maya. She was crying. "You wanna get divorced together?"

Four months pregnant. I was alone when a rival family came for me.. A searing pain tore through my stomach. I couldn't reach my husband, Don Lorenzo. His phone was off. I woke up in a sterile hospital bed. Three days had passed. And the baby... was gone. That’s when I heard the nurses gossiping. “Heard Don Lorenzo cleared out a block of Fifth Avenue for his mistress three days ago. Had his phone off so they wouldn't be disturbed.” Tears rolled down my cheeks, but my heart was empty. I gave up my career, my whole life, for him. The Don who promised me forever… he shattered that promise just days before our fifth anniversary. Back home, I dug out an old phone and made a call. A number I hadn't touched in five years. "The European tour you mentioned…" I said, my voice hollow. "I'm in. I can be ready in a week."

At the age of twenty, I mated to my father's best friend, Lucian, the Alpha of Silverfang Pack despite our age difference. He was eight years older than me and was known in the pack as the cold-hearted King of Hell. He was ruthless in the pack and never got close to any she-wolves, but he was extremely gentle and sweet towards me. He would buy me the priceless Fangborn necklace the next day just because I casually said, "It looks good." When I curled up in bed in pain during my period, he would put aside Alpha councils and personally make pain suppressant for me, coaxing me to drink spoonful by spoonful. He would hug me tight when we mated, calling me "sweetheart" in a low and hoarse voice. He claimed I was so alluring that my body had him utterly addicted as if every curve were a narcotic he couldn't quit. He even named his most valuable antique Stormwolf Armour "For Elise". For years, I had believed it was to commemorate the melody I had played at the piano on our first encounter—the very tune that had sparked our love story. Until that day, I found an old photo album in his study. The album was full of photos of the same she-wolf. You wouldn’t believe this, but we looked like twin sisters! The she-wolf in one of the photos was playing the piano and smiling brightly. The back of the photo said, "For Elise." ... After discovering the truth, I immediately drafted a severance agreement to sever our mate bond. Since Lucian only cared about Elise, no way in hell I would be your Luna Alice anymore.

I endured hundreds of injections just to give Stanley Brighton a child. He was moved to tears and held me, promising that even if we couldn't have children, he would love only me. I diligently followed the doctor's advice and underwent treatment. The day I confirmed my pregnancy, I was so excited that I wanted to rush home and share the good news with Stanley. But what awaited me was unimaginable. Stanley and the female tenant we shared the apartment with were lying naked together in the bathroom, sharing an intimate bath. He was behind her, holding her close, his lips incessantly biting at her earlobes. "I'll give you as many children as you want! Ten, eight—whatever it takes! Just divorce her!" "Alright, just give me some time. I'll divorce her for sure!" Hearing their whispered entanglement, I turned away, stepping into the rain, determined to leave. I would disappear to a place where Stanley could never find me, not in this lifetime.

When the news of my death on the battlefield, pinned to the pack's watchtower by silver arrows, reached my pack, my Alpha mate, Killian, simply laughed. He thought I was just jealous he was going to claim the Rogue, that I was faking my own death just to get his attention. "I was just trying to bring Valerie into the pack, and this is how she threatens me? With her own death?" "I left her with my most elite warriors. How could she possibly be dead!" "Tell her to get back here. I will claim Valerie, but after that, the title of Luna is still hers." Seven days later, he appeared before my family's home, carrying the ceremonial Luna circlet. He saw me in my white ceremonial dress, resting quietly beneath the white birch tree in the garden, and he breathed a sigh of relief. "I knew it. You were just giving me the silent treatment again." But in the next second, a pack elder's voice thundered: "Prepare the funeral pyre. Let us pay our final respects to our fallen warrior, Sloane!"

When my stepsister, Kate Lawrence, is poisoned at the full moon ceremony, my father, Jack Blackwood, condemns me at once, convinced that I am the one behind it. He clamps silver chains around me and drags me into the manor's dark underground cell. His eyes burn hatefully as he snarls, "You wretch! How could I have a daughter like you? Rot in here!" I drop to my knees on the cold floor and try to explain, but the sentence he throws over his shoulder as he turns away snuffs out the last of my hope. "Even if she dies in there, no one shall go in! Whoever lets her out will die with her!" The cell severs the mind-link completely, so no one hears me screaming. Seven days later, he finally remembers me, not knowing that I'd already died on the fourth day when the silver burned through to the bone.

When I was six, I spilled hot water, slipped, and burned my face. My face was ruined. My parents learned their lesson and never let my younger sister do housework. To everyone they met, they praised her beauty, her charm. They turned to me with nothing but disdain. When I was ten, I had a high fever. They didn't think much of it and let it drag on until my brain was damaged, leaving me slow and dull. They learned their lesson again. From then on, if my sister so much as coughed, they would rush her to the hospital in the dead of night, showering her with care. I was like a failed experiment. Every mistake they made with me, they corrected for her. I was ugly, silent, dim-witted, unwanted. She was beautiful, sweet-talking, clever, adored by all. When I was diagnosed with depression, I gathered what little courage I had and told them. Mom lashed out, called me sick in the head, and accused me of being petty. If I was so capable, she said, I might as well die. It wasn't until my sister pushed me off a high-rise that they found out, by sheer accident, that she wasn't their child at all. I was their one and only biological child.

I wake up to find the entire room shrouded in thick smoke and flames. I grab my phone and call my boyfriend, a fire captain I've been dating for five years. The phone rings seven whole times before he finally picks up. His sharp, irate voice comes through before I can get a word out. "Bella! How many times have I told you not to make false fire reports out of jealousy! You're a Warrior. Don't you feel ashamed of yourself for constantly picking fights with an Omega like Laura?" Suddenly, I hear Laura Knapp's sweet, pitiful voice on the line. "Thank you, Daniel. I'm safe because of you." As the flames spread, I have no option but to dial the emergency hotline. But the dispatcher tells me, "Sorry, ma'am, but all firefighters in your area are currently tied up. The earliest we can send help is in 30 minutes. Please hold on." I hang up with a bitter smile and see the news of a fire captain rescuing an injured pregnant woman. The flames close in around me, and just before death takes me, I send Daniel Ingram one last text. "Farewell. I wish you a happy life together."

The night I planned to tell him who I really was—under the full moon—my boyfriend of three years, Logan, walked up to me with another woman on his arm. He looked down at me and said: "Seraphina. I've been formally appointed the new Alpha of the Greywolf Pack. Only an elder's daughter is fit to be my Luna. A pack-doctor with blood as thin as yours can crawl back to the slums and patch up Omegas where you belong." But I was the highest-born princess of the Werewolf Royal Pack. So tell me—shouldn't I just have my brother, the Werewolf King, strip the Alpha title off this man and exile him to the Frostlands to keep company with the rogues?

Everyone in the pack knew I was in love with the Alpha, Luther Pauley. I had done whatever it took to win him over, even sneaking into his bed more than once. When I turned 18, the pack's seer predicted that Luther was my destined mate. But I refused the marking ceremony and chose to leave the pack instead. Luther looked stunned as he blocked my way out. "If you walk away now, don't ever come back." No one in the pack believed I would really go. They were even making bets about how soon I'd crawl back. "I'm calling three days!" "You're giving her too much credit. I'll wager a bottle of healing tonic that she'll be running back here in three minutes!" I ignored them and went straight to Sawyer Dunn, the Alpha of Graymoon Pack. This time, I swore I would never look back again.