Short Stories & Novels

My husband and I were the two people who hated each other most in this world. He hated me for tearing him away from the woman he loved. And I hated him because that his heart remained occupied by another woman. For eight years of marriage, the words we spoke to each other most often were not love, nor duty, but curses. Yet on the day the city fell, everything changed, the enemy banners were already visible beyond the inner gate. He rode ahead and took the road, putting his body between the enemy and my escape. “Live,” he said quietly. Then he raised his blade and did not look back. Arrows came like rain. As they tore into him, he turned his head once—only once— After that, his body held the road,and nothing passed. “If there is another life…may Your Highness grant me the mercy to belong to her.” That night, with the city in ruins and the people either dead or fleeing, I climbed the highest tower of the palace. I leapt. When I opened my eyes again, I went to the king. “The northern kingdoms require a royal bride,” I said. “I will go.” This lifetime, I will be the one to cross the border. In my previous life, he died believing he had failed her. This time, I will not allow that regret to exist. I will take the marriage meant for her. I will carry the crown meant to exile her. I will walk into a future she should never have to endure. Let her stay. Let him protect her. Let him live his life believing he has finally kept his promise.

"I will be your mistress, Adrian. Just let my family live." Adrian lifted his glass of wine. A faint smile curved his lips. "I thought they would send me the adopted daughter," he said, "I didn't expect you." "Everyone said your brother spoiled you like a princess. Turns out that was just a joke." The tip of the pen paused, stabbing a small blot of ink onto the paper. I signed my name, calm to the point of silence. The contract would take effect in three days. Then, I would cut all ties with the Willis name. I traded myself for the survival of the Willis family and my own permanent release.

I was eight months pregnant and had just gone into labor, but my Alpha mate, Damien, locked me in a silver cage in the basement to delay my labor. When I cried out for help, he just told me to wait. Because his late brother's mate, Victoria, was also giving birth that day. The Pack Seer had foretold that only the firstborn pup would be blessed by the Moon Goddess and become the future Alpha. "The title belongs to Victoria's child," he said. "She lost Marcus. She has nothing. You already have all my love, Elena. The silver cage will make sure you deliver after her." The contractions were torture. I begged him to take me to the clinic. He grabbed my chin and forced me to look at him. "Stop pretending. I should've known you never loved me. All you've ever cared about is wealth and status!" "To force your labor early, just to steal what belongs to my nephew… You're truly wicked." Pale and trembling, I whispered: "The pup is coming, I can't stop it. Please, I'll make a blood oath. I don't care about the inheritance. I only love you!" He scoffed."If you loved me, you wouldn’t have forced Victoria into that contract to give up her pup’s birthright. I'll come back for you after she delivers. After all, that's my pup in there, too." He stood guard outside Victoria's delivery room. Only after he saw the newborn pup in her arms did he remember me. He ordered his Beta to release me. But the Beta's voice trembled. "Luna… and the pup… they're dead." And in that moment, Damien went feral.

At the company’s year-end party, management tried to cut costs by using junk as raffle items. The prize box was filled with bottle caps, instant noodle wrappers, toothpaste boxes, and other trash. Everyone was only allowed to pick one item and scan the QR code on it. Whether you won anything depended entirely on luck. I casually picked up a bottle cap and unexpectedly won a car worth 500,000 dollars. As soon as the vice president found out, he rejected my win and demanded that I hand over the prize. “The company spent 20 dollars to get these raffle items from a recycler. Any prizes won have to be recorded in the books as company assets. They belong to the company.” My boss reprimanded me as well, “Have you lost your mind because you’ve been poor? Do you think you could have won without the company? You don’t know how to be grateful, and now, you’re trying to take company property. Stop causing a scene!” I did not argue and calmly handed over the bottle cap. Then, I turned around and called one of our clients. My boss had forgotten one thing: I was the company’s top salesperson. If he insisted on crossing me, I would make him lose five million.

In my previous life, I was accepted as a pilot and was about to enter aviation university for training. But because I stepped in to save the campus belle, Diana Fowler, from being assaulted by thugs, they retaliated against me. They broke both my legs, shattering my dream of flying. What angered me even more was that Diana, the very woman I saved, led the police to my hospital bed and identified me as the rapist. The two thugs who assaulted her were praised as heroes instead. My mother was so furious that she suffered a heart attack. When I was in prison, I fell into despair and took my own life. After being reborn, I watch indifferently as Diana cries for help in the alley. This time, I coldly put on my headphones.

Jackson Dalton, my roommate, was a deeply disturbed voyeur. His greatest hobby in life was spying on me. Back in school, he stole my underwear. After we started working, he set his sights on sleeping with the woman I loved, Caitlin Watson. Because we were close, he constantly crossed the line, making crude, sexual remarks about Caitlin, who was a flight attendant. "Those legs are insane. Wonder what it’d feel like to have them on my shoulders." Every time he ran his mouth, Caitlin would throw water in his face and curse him out. "Stay the hell away from me, you freak." For my sake, she never called the police on him, but every time he acted up, she made sure to humiliate him in public. The night I successfully proposed, I bought a new house. Jackson showed up with a full set of appliances as an apology gift. Wearing her diamond ring, Caitlin leaned into my arms, smiling like she was the happiest woman alive. All my friends said I was lucky to have such a beautiful and loyal fiancee, who even put my worst friend in his place. Until I got up in the middle of the night for a drink. I noticed the guest room door was slightly open. When I pushed it open, I saw Caitlin wearing a collar and being led on a leash while crawling on the ground.

Three years after Alpha King Damien Caldwell marks me, Drake Whitaker finally remembers I exist. Turns out he really believes I'll "wait for him forever." Twenty black SUVs clog the private road into Ridgefield pack territory, trunks crammed with moonstone jewelry, old talismans, and rare herbs. Drake steps out of the tricked-out Hummer, wearing a smug smile and clutching a stack of parchment contracts. "Aria," he calls up, like some medieval knight, "I told you once the Silvermoon Coalition was official and Kenneth's supply lines were stable, I'd bring you to my pack. "The High Council finalized five packs yesterday. I came first thing this morning to show you I mean it." I sit in the upstairs study, watching a video Damien just sent of him playing with our son, then glance through the blinds at the ridiculous scene unfolding below. Drake lifts his face toward the second floor. "I know you're upset, but Kenneth controls the biggest timber in the Eastvale region. I had to mark Isabella. It was politics. You get that. Feelings don't need a mark anyway. I'll treat you better than a Luna." His words made my skin crawl. I pressed the intercom button on the desk. "Clear the drive. Tell security someone's trespassing." What a day! I've just taken my son to the medical center for his one-month checkup. Damien sends me back to Ridgefield pack for a week to rest. Instead, I get this mess on my doorstep.

My Mafia husband, Alessio, was sleeping with his stepsister, Sophia. In the car, the study, the bathroom, even on the dining table, they left evidence of their affair everywhere. "Sophia, don't worry. Once I solidify my position in the family, I'll give you everything." "Blair… she's just a tool to secure my position." In our eight years of marriage, he had whispered the sweetest words in the world to me. Now, his devotion was worthless. I didn't cry or cause a scene. Instead, I made a deal on the black market. In two weeks, Blair Greco would disappear from this world for good.

After the mission failed, I traded my emotions away with the system so that I could return to my own world. But two years later, the system urgently summoned me back. The system said my target had tried to destroy the entire world, and all she wanted was to see me. I rejected it on the spot. Even though I had already lost my emotions, I still did not want to stay next to someone who had hurt me out of rationality. The system grew frantic and threw out one reward after another. In the end, we agreed that I would only go back for three months. Once I returned, not only would my emotions be restored, but I would also receive a huge sum of money. Legal and after tax. But when I returned to Jessica Sand's side with no emotions at all, her madness seemed to have become even more erratic…

My twin Alpha brothers believed that I have deliberately hidden the vast inheritance left by our Alpha parents so that our adoptive sister Sophia couldn’t by the medical equipment to treat her silver poisoning. For the sake of our adoptive sister, my twin Alpha brothers dragged me before the Council's tribunal. They accused me of stealing pack assets and deliberately harming pack members. If the charges stuck, the Alpha Council would strip away my Alpha power to treat Sophia. My brothers had no idea that years ago, I'd nearly died protecting them. If I lost my Alpha bloodline strength, I would die. In my own brothers' eyes, I was already a criminal beyond redemption. But when the Council used ancient magic to extract my memories for judgment, everyone wept for me. And when my brothers learned the truth, they fell to their knees, begging my forgiveness.

After rejecting the 999th consort candidate my master, Madam Freya, had introduced to me, she finally reached her limit. "What the hell are you waiting for? You're the once-in-a-lifetime genius of Nymphomist magic, and yet you've never gone through the Great Rite! You're not getting any younger, girl. At this rate, how are you supposed to improve your spiritual power?!" I sighed. Of course I wanted to find a consort and perform the Great Rite already. But every single one of those candidates looked like shit. Unfortunately, my absurdly high standards for men ended up stalling my spiritual power for too long. I failed to survive the Trial of Lightning and died... Then I opened my eyes and realized I was in another body, in another world. The beauty standards here were completely different from those in the elven world. I looked across the room, and my eyes immediately landed on the most perfect man I had ever seen. He was 6'2", with sharply defined washboard abs. His face looked as though the gods themselves had sculpted it. I ran straight toward him and threw my arms around his waist. Oh, he's the one! To my surprise, this god among men narrowed his eyes and grabbed me by the neck. Rage burned in his expression. "You would throw yourself at a man as hideous as me just for my money?! You disgust me!" What the hell was he talking about? Honestly, all I could focus on was the way his sexy, seductive lips moved against each other whenever he spoke. Please. Just let me bite them already!

On my birthday, I brought a cake for Edward. Standing outside the private room, I overheard one of his close friends ask, "Edward, you've been with Vanessa for ten years. When are you going to marry her?" Edward scoffed. "Marry her? She's so boring. I'm only keeping her around as a pastime. The woman who becomes my wife has to be a proper match in status." After hearing that, I said nothing. I simply turned and walked away. Then, I reapplied for the confidential plan. For the rest of his life, I would be far beyond his reach.

I’d just left a creative meeting when a TikTok video popped up on my feed, slamming my company. The title: "Stay Away! This Austin startup is incredibly cheap. The perks are a joke." The video showed off the pour-over coffee from Austin's hottest independent cafe and pastries from a top-tier French bakery. The same ones I’d just had my assistant, Sam, hand out. I frowned. In the company's Slack channel, I tagged everyone. "@here Any suggestions for this afternoon's Happy Hour?" Leo, the new Gen-Z intern, replied instantly with a voice note. “Asher, with all due respect, these snacks with gluten and dairy are so unhealthy.” “A truly visionary company would hire a private chef to customize raw, vegan bites for everyone's dietary needs. That's what respect looks like.” I laughed. It was an angry laugh. The company's daily snack budget was $25 per person. For an Austin startup, that was top of the line. I typed back: "Since it's impossible to please everyone, the snack perk is canceled. I'll convert the budget into a cash bonus for all of you." Less than five minutes later, the TikTok caption was updated. "UPDATE: Y'all, I can't make this up. I made a suggestion about dietary inclusivity, and my toxic boss just canceled all the perks! This is how toxic bosses act. Can't handle a single piece of feedback!"

My words can kill. Whatever I say comes true. When I was eight, my cruel adoptive father kicked me into an icy river. I glared at him and said furiously, "You'll drown if you go into water." The next day, he drowned in a stinking ditch where the water barely reached his knees. After realizing I could really kill people, I was so scared I stopped talking and became a mute. A year ago, I was taken back to the Shaw family. In order to stay with the family that I'd finally found after all these years, I absolutely refused to speak. But one day, after Jackie Shaw took a sip of the drink I brought him, he suddenly convulsed and fell to the floor, his face turning purple. A maid screamed in terror, "There's peanut powder in the drink!" Before I could even say anything, my twin sister, Violet, kicked the coffee table, grabbed my hair, and pressed me down hard onto the broken glass shards. "You know Jackie is severely allergic to peanuts! How could you poison him?!" After Mom gave Jackie an emergency injection, she turned around and slapped me hard. "I can't believe I gave birth to a malicious monster like you!" Dad's face was ashen. He splashed boiling tea all over me. "You heartless, vicious ingrate! I can't believe you tried to kill Jackie out of jealousy!" Boiling water mixed with blood dripped down my face, and I clenched my teeth tightly. They had no idea that if I truly wanted him dead, I wouldn't even need to poison him. I just had to speak. Like this. I slowly looked up at Jackie, and my lips moved...

My boyfriend Samuel Sanders offered cash in a group chat for someone to seduce me. Add me on Facebook: 5,000 dollars. Hold my hand: 10,000 dollars. Kiss me: 20,000 dollars. Get me into bed: 50,000 dollars. Make me break up with him: 100,000 dollars. In the group chat, I saw that he had posted my personal information in great detail. [Whoever can seduce her gets the money. This post is proof.] Samuel's message set the group chat off. Everyone wanted to join in. I pretended to be excited too and used an alternate account to say I wanted to join. Before long, the friend requests started pouring in. From the long list of friend requests, I chose Jason Rivers. He was Samuel's best friend, who also happened to be six feet tall. I accepted his friend request.

My wife, Jana Webster, uses her work at the company as an excuse to skip out on Leah Haynes, our daughter's field day. She even tells us not to participate in the activity. Having noticed how disappointed Leah looks, I decide to take her to the field day myself. As soon as we walk into the school, I spot Jana sitting on the couch located on the stage with her first love, Barton Ritter, as well as his son, Trenton Ritter. They look so close, as though they were an actual family of three. With a microphone in her hand, Jana goes on and on about how she's capable of keeping her family happy while maintaining a successful career. As she speaks, she smiles at Barton from time to time. The audience beneath the stage applauds heartily, giving Jana an ego boost. Even Trenton wears a haughty look. Soon, it's time for the Q&A session. I quickly snatch the microphone over. "Ms. Webster, since when do you have a son? Does your husband know about it?"

My wife and I slept in separate beds for over three years. Then on our wedding anniversary, she suddenly tried to win me over. She climbed into my bed and pulled out all the stops, trying to get me to sleep with her. I stayed calm and collected. When our son started crying, I used it as an excuse to escape to his room, where I stayed all night. Vivian Hartley spent the entire night knocking on the door. The next morning, she acted sweet and gentle, graciously making me breakfast as if nothing had happened. She even tried to hand over her salary card. When my mother-in-law heard about this, she exploded at her daughter. "You pathetic fool! People need some self-respect! If you can't stand up for yourself, just get a divorce already!" Yet Vivian claimed her feelings for me ran so deep that the heavens themselves could vouch for her sincerity. She even defied her own mother. Our relatives and friends looked at us with envy. But my son and I continued to give her the cold shoulder. Finally, Vivian turned to social media for help. "Three years ago, I was busy with work. My husband and I had completely different schedules. I was afraid it would affect my performance at work, so I suggested we sleep in separate rooms. "Now our child is older, and I've swallowed my pride to try to fix things, but my husband won't even touch me." Someone in the comments gave her some advice: install hidden cameras around the house. "We can't just take your word for it. Record everything so we can see what's really going on. Plus, if things actually end in divorce, at least you'll have built up your social media following. It won't be a total loss." Vivian had no idea I was watching from among her followers.

Seven years into my marriage to Sebastian, we had our first child. On Logan's first birthday party, one of the old friends Sebastian had known since prep school rattled a little velvet cup of dice in Logan's face and laughed. "Come on, Mrs. Forsythe, humor us. Let the birthday boy roll. A game. For old times' sake." Logan giggled and slapped at the cup. "If he rolls a six," the groomsman went on, grinning sideways at Sebastian, "Sebastian goes and picks Serena up from the airport tonight. Deal?" The moment I heard her name, my blood went cold. I turned to Sebastian. He'd been keeping in touch with her behind my back. All this time. He caught my eyes. He covered my shaking fingers with his and frowned slightly. "Don't be jealous over nothing. We're all friends. It's just a ride from the airport." And then, without quite meaning to, he nodded. Permission given. Logan laughed and opened his little fist. The dice clattered across the linen. A six. "That's fate!" someone whooped. "Serena's flight lands in two hours. You'll make it!" The room erupted. Glasses up. Backs slapped. Sebastian surrounded. His face softened and he turned and went for the door. Watching his back disappear through that door, I didn't do what I used to do. This seven-year bet of mine — I had lost it, completely.

Once my wolf awakened, I could smell emotions. Joy was sweet. Grief was bitter. Disgust and anger carried a sharp, spicy scent. Harris and I had been together for nine years, and his scent had never changed. It had always been sweet. That changed when my sister, Gwen, left the pack. That night, Harris came home late, and I caught an unfamiliar bitterness lingering on him for the first time. I simply furrowed my brows, not thinking much of it. Three years later, Gwen returned and announced that she would hold a mating ceremony with an Alpha from another pack. On the day of the ceremony, Harris carried a scent I’d never smelled on him before. The bitterness with spicy notes left chills running down my spine. My heart sank, and before I knew it, I was following Harris after he slipped away from the celebration. The door to the lounge at the end of the corridor was slightly ajar. I could hear Harris growling. “Enough! To kill any hope I had left, you’d choose a mate bond with an Alpha you don’t even love?” Gwen shook her head in tears. “Harris, you’ll be Grace’s mate. We can’t repeat the mistake we have made.” I froze, my blood running cold. It felt as if a paw was squeezing my heart, and the pain ripped through my chest. Just then, my phone buzzed with a reminder for my own mating ceremony with Harris. I stared at my mobile screen. Seconds later, I was on the phone with the venue that was booked for the ceremony. “Hello there. I’d like to cancel my reservation.”

Three years after my Alpha brother banished me from Blackwood Pack, he donated one dollar to my PackAid fundraiser. His public message read: [Let me know when you actually die. I’ll pop the champagne.] Three years earlier, Serena—the orphan Adrian had brought home from the border—accused me of stealing her silver-purification protocol that had earned Blackwood’s only nomination to the Royal Healer Academy. Adrian never let me explain. He revoked my nomination, cut off my Pack sponsorship, and ordered me out of Blackwood territory before sunrise. [Admit what you did. Apologize to Serena. Then I’ll let you come home.] Then he sealed me out of the Pack mindlink. Overnight, I went from protected Alpha blood to a rogue no Pack dared accept. Three years later, Serena slept in my old room at the Alpha House, wore my mother’s jewelry, and smiled whenever Pack members called her the Alpha’s sister. I dug through trash outside the territory and scavenged scrap in an abandoned industrial district until silver dust poisoned my lungs. By then, my wolf was fading and the healer called it terminal Silver Lung. After reading Adrian’s comment, I called Moonrest Memorial Park. “Hold the cheapest grave you have.” His one-dollar donation had pushed my fundraiser to PackAid’s minimum withdrawal amount. I decided to give him exactly what he wanted.