After Death Werewolf Short Stories & Karma Novels

My pup Asher had been sick for six months. Every time I personally cared for him, he became even sicker. I finally believed the witch's prophecy: I was cursed. My very existence would harm my own pup. I went to the moon temple and prayed that the moon goddess would lift the curse and ensure my pup's safety. From then on, my Alpha mate Damon brought Asher up the mountain every day to see me. Hundreds of miles of mountain road. They made the trip over a thousand times. Our bond never faded with the distance. Until today. A group of rogues broke into the Sanctuary and pushed me down the stone steps. I called Damon all night. No one answered. Then I received an anonymous video. Damon knelt in front of a woman, kissing her swollen belly. Asher stood next to them, grinning ear to ear. "I'm gonna have a brother! Aunt Serena, your pregnancy must have been so tough. Me and Dad will be your knights forever." He turned to Damon, his young face bright with pride. "Dad, I faked being sick pretty well, right? Pretending to feel awful every day, tricking Mom into taking me to the Healer over and over. They never found anything wrong, and she really believed that curse stuff. Went up the mountain all on her own." "But what if Mom finds out? Won't she be mad?" Damon didn't seem worried. "Don't worry. I've got the whole mountain sealed off. She won't find out." Only then did I understand. Everything had been a lie, planned by my mate and my son. I turned around and knocked over the Hope Flame that I had lit for Asher without hesitation. This flame was lit at the cost of my wolf’s strength, offered to the Moon Goddess so that she might bless Asher with health. Through the flames, a familiar figure sprinted toward me.

During a battle between packs, both my adopted sister Chloe and I were injured. A Rogue tore me apart, leaving me a mangled heap of flesh and blood. My wolf was already fading from my spirit. But my Alpha mate, Damon, ran straight to Chloe. She had nothing more than a scratch on her face. He refused to use his Alpha power to save me, blaming me for the entire disaster. "Elena, if you hadn't slowed us down, none of this would have happened! How could Chloe have gotten hurt?" "You're not worth wasting the pack's resources on." In the end, I was left for dead in the forest, unclaimed and forgotten. And when the truth came out that I had died to save him? That cold-blooded Alpha who rejected me so viciously went insane.

I died on the day I was supposed to receive the Silvermoon Devotion Medal from the pack. My family, though—they were busy celebrating my little sister winning the "Pack's Best Neighbor" award at her birthday party. While she made her wish for the whole family to love her forever, I dialed my fated mate, Alpha Theodore, begging for help. He cut me off with an impatient snap— "Diana, this is the most important moment of Elara's life. Quit pulling those petty stunts for attention." It was the ninety-ninth time he'd chosen her over me. But there won't be a next time. Because I'm already dead.

Three years ago, on a full moon night, my mother jolted awake at midnight, claiming the Moon Goddess had delivered a prophecy: On the day of my twentieth birthday, the feral gene inside me would spiral out of control. I would shift into a wolf and kill my sister. At first, my parents were skeptical. But after I awakened my wolf at eighteen, my sister would seize up whenever she was near me, clutching her chest and collapsing to the ground in violent fits of gasping. To protect her and force my wolf into dormancy, my parents resorted to every harsh measure they could devise. They poured suppression potions down my throat that ate away at my organs, and clamped a restraining collar around my neck so my sister could keep me on a leash. Eventually, my wolf vanished completely. And somehow, I survived to my twentieth birthday. A flash of joy hit me, and I reached for the cake on the table. My father backhanded me so hard I went flying. "That feral gene in your blood really is impossible to tame! "If anyone eats first, it's your sister. What makes you think you can touch it?" Clara stepped forward as if to soothe things over, but my mother pulled her behind her back, eyes full of wariness as she edged away from me. Then my father dragged me up to the attic and bolted the door shut. Through the door, they said, "Stay put and get through tonight. The prophecy will be broken. "After this, we'll give you half the love we've shown your sister." I sank my teeth into my lip, not daring to make a sound. Years of the suppression potion had already hollowed out my body. My consciousness was fading, piece by piece. Mom, Dad, in that dream the Moon Goddess sent you, did she happen to mention this part? That the one dying today might be me?

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.

At the Silverpine Pack's annual winter market, Dad bought a Christmas chocolate bar for Chloe and one for me. I accepted mine happily, but Chloe burst into tears. "Why does she get the same thing as me? Ever since she came along, I haven't been your only baby anymore!" Mom immediately took the chocolate bar from my hand. "Chloe can have this one too. You can eat something else later." But I wanted a chocolate bar too. Dad had bought that one for me. I started crying, and Mom suddenly lost her temper. "You've already taken half of your sister's love away from her. Now you can't even let her have one chocolate bar? You're already competing with her for attention at your age. Who knows how selfish you'll become when you grow up?" Frightened, I stopped crying and grabbed the hem of her coat. "Please don't be mad, Mommy. Ella won't eat it." Mom stared at me for a few seconds, but her expression only grew darker. She returned to the stall, bought an entire box of chocolate bars, and shoved it into my arms. "You wanted chocolate, didn't you? Sit here and finish every one of them. You're not allowed to leave until the box is empty." With that, she took Chloe's hand and walked away. Dad did not follow them immediately. He crouched in front of me and stroked my hair, looking uncomfortable. "Stay right here and be good, Ella. Once Mommy calms down, Daddy will come back for you." I unwrapped one bar, then another. The chocolate was so sweet that it began to taste bitter. I had just picked up the fifth chocolate bar when a piercing fire alarm rang through the mall. People screamed and rushed toward the exits. I stayed on the bench. Instead of running with them, I ate faster. Mom had told me I could not leave until I finished everything. I could not make her angry again.

After being forced to donate the blood from my heart to my Alpha's beloved witch, I die in the cottage that he'd built for me. Before my death, my five-year-old daughter runs to the castle in the forest to beg him thrice. The first time, she runs into the study and tells him I'm coughing up blood. My mate, Alpha Alaric sneers. "Is this one of Clara's new tricks? I can't believe she taught a child to lie!" He orders his attendant to take our daughter away. The second time, she knocks on the door cautiously and tells him I'm trembling all over. Alaric snorts contemptuously. "What's with the act? All I did was take some of her blood, not gouge her heart out. She'll heal on her own soon enough!" Once again, his attendant chases our daughter out. The third time, she kneels by the study door and weeps, saying that I'm already unconscious. She begs Alaric to save me. This time, he gets mad. He grabs her by the arm and throws her out of the castle. "I told you your mother won't die! Lie to me again, and I'll kick her out of the Wolffang Pack. She can die at the hands of those Rogues!" He breaks her arm in the process, and she clutches it. She has no choice but to pass the family heirloom—a ring—that represents her identity as the Wolffang Pack's heiress to a passing merchant. "I can give you everything valuable I have, Mr. Merchant! I don't want to be an heiress—I just want my mother to stay alive!" The merchant accepts the ring and soon brings a herbalist. However, Alaric's beloved witch, Elena has him taken away. "Sorry, but your father is worried that I'll be upset because my darling black cat is sick. He's ordered all of the herbalists in the pack to focus on treating my cat first." She snorts. "Your mother can wait."

My Alpha mate Kieran ordered our eight-year-old son to burn my mother alive because his Omega assistant accused me of killing her pet dog out of spite. Kieran's eyes were filled with impatience and disgust. "You're supposed to be our pack's respected Luna. Why would you target an innocent Omega? Whatever harm her pet suffered, your mother will endure the same. Your mother is paying the price for your jealousy!" I fell to my knees, begging Kieran to spare my mother. But he commanded our seven-year-old son Owen to light the fire himself. My son didn't hesitate for a second as he threw the torch into the pile of wood. "That's what you get for always going against Aunt Sera!" I screamed and cried, desperately begging them to help me put out the flames. "Please, I'm begging you, take my mother to the healing center..." "Enough, Aria. Your mother is still lying in the hospital bed. That's just a training dummy. Stop putting on this pathetic act." After saying that, father and son walked away without looking back. They didn't know that it really was my mother burning in those flames. But when I finally gave up on them and left, why did they both come crawling back, begging me to return?

After taking a poisoned drink at a party for my Alpha mate, Magnus Ironwood, I am poisoned with a rare wolfsbane. Since then, my wolf has grown so weak that I can barely maintain a mind-link with the rest of the pack. Magnus travels from pack to pack and to healing centers, searching for healers and praying they can create an antidote for me. On the eve of Spring Hunt Caravan, I force myself out of bed to simmer a pot of meat stew for Magnus and our pup, Ronan Ironwood, only to collapse onto the couch and never wake up again. Moments later, Magnus walks through the door, followed by his assistant, Tala Brightfield, with Ronan in her arms. When he sees me lying on the couch, he sets down the moonstone necklace he buys for me and sighs helplessly. "Don't stay up waiting for us if you're not feeling well, and don't push yourself to make meat stew either." But Tala bursts into tears, "Your Luna doesn't like me, Alpha Magnus! Just half an hour ago, she texted me and told me to stay away from you. I think it's best if I leave." Magnus calls my name. When I don't respond, his expression turns cold, and the tenderness in his eyes is replaced by anger. "Maeve Nightshade! When will you learn the grace of a Luna? Tala has helped me rule this pack, so could you stop throwing these pointless tantrums? "Your antidote is nearly ready. Stop using your poisoning as an excuse to play the victim!" He stands there criticizing my body in front of Ronan, all for another she-wolf. It isn't until he sees my rotting body that he finally loses his mind.

On Alpha Adrian Blackwood’s thirty-fifth birthday, his foster sister, Selena Vale, put on a magic show for the entire Mooncrest Pack. Selena had insisted that I join her onstage and assist with the grand finale. She had spent months learning stage magic and bragging about every new illusion until the entire pack was convinced she was practically a master magician. So when the blades inside Selena’s illusion box turned out to be real, no one believed my screams. Selena laughed into the microphone. “Our Luna deserves an Oscar. Doesn’t she make it look real?” The entire pack laughed with her. Even Adrian frowned at me from the front row. “Elena, enough. Don’t ruin my birthday just because you can’t stand Selena being in the spotlight.” Our six-year-old son looked up at me and said, “Mommy, stop pretending. Aunt Selena worked really hard.” Then the next blade came down. And another. They thought I was putting on a performance to ruin Selena’s magic show. But I wasn’t acting. I was dying.

I was dismembered and thrown into an abandoned warehouse. Before my consciousness faded away, I used the last bit of my strength to send a message via mind link to Timothy Russell, the Alpha heir that I had loved for six years. "Timothy, I'm in so much pain..." The next second, a cold mental barrier crashed down between us, cutting off all communication. That was his response to me. I knew I had been too presumptuous. I had disturbed him while he was at an auction helping his foster sister, Rochell Lucas. The moment my heart stopped beating, Timothy, who was helping Rochell put on a bracelet, felt his chest cave in. While everyone watched, the future Alpha knelt on the ground as countless bone-deep wounds appeared across his body out of nowhere. He convulsed in agony, screaming my name. Only then did everyone notice a glowing blood pact mark appearing on his tongue. I remembered. Once upon a time, he swore an oath to the moon. "If I ever betray Leah, every bit of suffering she has endured will return to me tenfold."

Three years ago, to save his lover Vivian’s son, Alpha Alexander personally drained the life essence from our five-year-old daughter. I fought like a cornered animal to stop him, but Vivian’s rogue wolves broke my legs, carved away my Luna tattoo, and left me for dead in the pack’s Forbidden Zone. Three years later, the boy, Oliver, suffered a relapse of his Bloodline Decay. Only then did Alexander remember we ever existed. He cast a net far and wide, determined to drag my daughter and me back to serve as a living battery for Oliver. But this time, he was in for a bitter disappointment. Because my daughter, Mia, and I were already dead.

My Alpha mother had a mark burned into my heart, a Submission Mark, all to guarantee I'd claim first place at the Ascension Trials. The mark was simple in its cruelty: whenever my heartbeat dipped below the intensity of combat training, it would scorch the flesh around my heart. No drifting off. No rest. Not even an extra breath during sparring. When I passed out from exhaustion, she'd pull out an iron whip soaked in silver solution and lash it across my hands. She called it "awakening the wolf's instincts." "You're a she-wolf. If you fail, you become the lowest thing in this pack and every male wolf will have the right to walk all over you." "Every drop of blood you shed is a stepping stone to the top." "Iron doesn't become a blade without fire. I've already begged the Moon Goddess for her blessing. Why can't you just push harder?" Today was the first round of the Ascension Trials on the pack's sacred calendar. I was the first contestant to break out of the underground arena, and instantly the pack's Record Keepers swarmed around me. My mother stood just outside the arena. Flush with pride, she triggered the Submission Mark and pushed my combat reflexes to the absolute limit of my wolf form. "Look at my daughter move, like she has Moon Goddess guidance. All thanks to my one-of-a-kind Branding Enhancement technique." But Mom... two days before the Trials started... Your mark, running at full power, burned my heart to nothing and stopped it cold. What more could you possibly want?

My name is Elena, and I died at twenty-two. My parents forced me to take my foster sister’s place and traded me for a territorial alliance. My mate was the most volatile heir of the wolf packs. Beaten bloody and fading fast, I made my eighth call for help. At my adopted sister Seraphina’s birthday party, she played the recording of my final, groveling plea—and laughed. My parents listened to those desperate calls with nothing but irritation, dismissing each one as theatrics, an inconvenience unworthy of their time. My brother snarled over the phone, “Then just die already!” So I did. In the end, it was my three-year-old daughter who made the final call—using her smartwatch to video my mother, live-streaming the freezer where my severed head lay. Now, my spirit watches from above as they all, one by one, begin to unravel.

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!"

Four days after my death, my four-year-old daughter finally sensed that something was terribly wrong. The fridge door slammed into her forehead when she tried to get a snack. Normally, I would've been there in a heartbeat—arms open, kisses ready, whispering, "You're okay, sweetheart, Mommy's here." But this time, I just lay on the bed, cold and still.​ She didn't understand. She thought the sweet treat would make me respond. So she held the final piece of chocolate up to my mouth. "Here, Mommy. Have some chocolate..." But I didn't even blink. She climbed into my arms, clutching my clothes tightly. "Mommy... Mommy, wake up..." She waited for me to stroke her hair, to tell her that everything was going to be fine. There was only silence.​ Completely lost and scared, she found my phone. "Daddy, why is Mommy still sleeping?" she asked, her voice filled with desperation.​ In response, Oliver sent a photo of himself having Christmas Eve dinner with his childhood sweetheart. His voice was icy cold when he replied, "She's just sleeping, not dead. It's Christmas Eve, and I'm busy. Tell her to stop playing games and come apologize when she's done sulking." Then he hung up.​ But when the truth finally hit Oliver—when the coroner's report came, when the police knocked on his door right in the middle of his laughter, when he realized I'd been lying dead for four days while he toasted—he broke.

Karen was once obsessed with tribal witch Lyra, who falsely accused me of stealing the Moon Soul Flower, claiming I cursed her spirit sight. My destined mate, Alpha Karen, whipped me before the Moon Goddess statue and banished me to the frozen Cliff of Sinful Wolves. When I returned, I became tame, hiding all my wolf nature in front of him, becoming just a gentle shadow. But when he discovered the truth about what happened at the Cliff in my blood-stained wolf tooth talisman, he went crazy. "Elara, please, answer my mate's call one more time!"

Twelve years after I burned to death at the border sanctuary, I stood before Ryan again during his final Moonlight Trial. My name was Erin. At eighteen, I was the packless lone wolf everyone on the border knew as trouble, and Ryan Blackwood was the nameless boy who had grown up beside me. We hunted together, fought together, and survived winters that should have broken us. Before the fire, his wolf had already recognized me as his fated mate. We had not completed the bond yet. We thought we had time. Then an enemy pack attacked the sanctuary at night and set the cabins on fire. I dragged Ryan, bleeding from a silver wound and barely conscious, through a burning hallway and shoved him outside. Then I went back for Mara and the last pups. I never came out. Ryan survived with severe smoke inhalation, broken memories, and a wolf that went completely silent. When he woke, he no longer remembered me, the promise he had made to me, or the bond his wolf had already chosen. Vera Ashford stayed beside him and gave everyone a simpler story. She said she had saved Ryan. She said I had sold the sanctuary routes and caused the fire. For the next twelve years, she stood beside him through trial after trial. The pack came to treat her as the woman who would one day stand beside the heir for good, even though Ryan's wolf never woke enough to complete a true mate bond with her. By the time his hundredth trial began, my grave had been cold for twelve years. The first sign that the trial had called me back was not a voice. Every wolf in the stone hall lifted its head at once, hackles rising as a faint smell of charred wood drifted through the moonlight. Then I stepped out of the forest mist.

I died on the day I was supposed to form a mate bond with Alpha Ragnar. Since I did not show up, he went ahead and performed the ceremony with his childhood sweetheart, Nina. “Selena has already been marked by me, yet she still threw caution to the wind and cheated with a rogue. Her betrayal has brought shame upon us. She’s not worthy of being the pack’s Luna!” With just one careless sentence, Ragnar made my family a disgrace of the pack. My father was once a great warrior of the pack. He lost his wolf saving Ragnar, only to be drowned in a river as punishment for supposedly failing to discipline his own daughter. Our blood bond allowed me to feel his pain. However, I had been locked in a sealed, abandoned interrogation room—a silver cage. The mechanism inside was accidentally triggered, and thick poisonous gas filled the space. It killed me slowly and painfully. After my soul left my body, I appeared beside Ragnar and heard him say to Nina, “Thanks for your help today. If Selena hadn’t acted so foolishly, you wouldn’t have had to take her place in the ceremony. Ever since I marked her, she’s been getting bolder, thinking my affection gives her a free pass. How dare she skip such an important ceremony?!” However, the noble Alpha Ragnar seemed to have forgotten something. Just seven days ago, he threw me into a silver cage meant only for the most dangerous criminals to appease Nina. “You hurt Nina, so you must face the consequences. Take these three days to reflect. If you still won't admit your mistake, then don’t even think about ever leaving this place for the rest of your life.” I waited three days and then three more. The poisonous gas and silver ate away at my body, corroding me from the outside in. I endured seven days of unbearable pain before I finally died. When my body was found, it had been so ravaged by the poison that I was unrecognizable. As for the arrogant Alpha? He had completely lost his mind.

Five years after my death, my ex-husband, Adrian Shaw, came home with his childhood sweetheart, Hannah Reed, on his arm. They were preparing for a new mating ceremony. His only wish before the ceremony was to find me and make me pay for severing our mate bond and betraying him all those years ago. To force me to show myself, he destroyed my family's company, drove my father out of his mind, and burned down the home we had once shared. What he did not know was that I was already dead. Five years earlier, desperate to pay for the treatment he needed after a car accident badly injured his inner wolf, I signed up as a test subject at an underground clinic. It was an illegal clinic that used live subjects to test experimental silver-derived compounds and wolfsbane antidotes. I died in its basement. Later, my grandmother, who had dementia, ran into Adrian in the neighborhood. My grandmother's face lit up with joy. "Adrian, you're back? Grace has missed you so much. Come with me. I'll take you to see Grace."