After Death Werewolf Short Stories & Regret Novels

I was born broken. My Alpha mother was the one who branded me. She said emotion was a sin. A weakness. Especially for a werewolf. Especially for an Alpha’s heir. The day we were born, she clamped emotion-suppressing collars around our necks. Mine and my twin sister's. The slightest flicker of emotion, and the collar flashed red. My mother would then push the button, injecting me with a diluted "silver solution" to suppress my feelings. But my sister Cassia's collar? Always a calm, steady blue. Even when she shattered Mom's precious moonstone, it just pulsed gently. And me? I’d just whisper, "Mom, the thunder scares me," and my collar would erupt in a violent red. Then came the sting of silver poison burning through my blood.. I used to argue. But Mom always said the same thing. "The data doesn't lie. Pain is a teacher. This is for your own good." After thousands of these injections, I started to believe it, too. That I was born out of control. The night of the alliance's Moon Goddess Festival, Mom was taking my sister to the rooftop party. Something scared me during the day. The collar flashed red, and my mother started the punishment. But this time, the collar malfunctioned. It shot a dose a thousand times stronger into my neck. I collapsed on the carpet, begging, "Mother, the collar... it hurts so much... help me." My collar was flashing a frantic red. My mother just looked down at me, drenched in a cold sweat, and pressed the button for the maximum dose. "You'd lose control like this just for attention? You're a lost cause." She turned, took my sister, and slammed the door. I couldn't help but think, Mom must be right. The collar is red. It doesn't really hurt. I'm just being dramatic, looking for pity again. I'm sorry, Mom. In my next life, I'll be the perfect daughter you always wanted.

I'm six months pregnant when my cousin Hallie Thorne's mate dies. Worried that she has no one to look after her, my mate, Ragnar Clairmont, suggests she move in with us. I don't think twice before agreeing. The moment Hallie walks through the door and sees my pregnant belly, she bursts into tears. Ragnar pulls me aside and says quietly, "Try not to walk around showing off your pregnancy in front of her. Her mate just died before they could even have a pup. Don't rub it in her face." I feel sorry for her, so I agree. That night, Hallie spills dish soap by the kitchen door, causing me to slip and nearly lose my pup. I suspect that she does it on purpose and tell Ragnar. But he just looks at me with frustration. "The three of us grew up together. She would never do something like that. Pregnancy can make you paranoid. Stop assuming the worst of her." But later, while we're camping, she suddenly pushes me into the river before jumping in after me. Ragnar comes running when he hears the splash and immediately dives in to save us. I beg him to save me and our pup, but he swims right past me and gets Hallie to shore first. "She's just a fragile Omega. I need to make sure she's safe first. You're an Alpha. You can handle yourself. I'll go get help," Ragnar says. Under normal circumstances, I could easily swim to shore. But now that I'm pregnant, my body feels heavy and sluggish. I try to shout for Ragnar, but weeds wrap around my legs, and water closes over my mouth and nose. I hear approaching footsteps in the distance, but it's already too late.

I'm cursed with the most deadly spell of the werewolf pack—leaving me with only a month left to live. However, no one in my family knows about this. Ever since they'd adopted Natali Fisher, an orphan who greatly resembles my older sister, they've poured all their love and attention into her—and stopped caring about me. And at that very moment, I'm curled up in a corner of the woodshed, with blood steadily dripping from the corners of my lips. Dad, Mom, and my older brother, Kent Greene, probably think that I'm throwing another tantrum and am deliberately hiding from them. But that isn't the case this time. They are currently outside cooking Natali's favorite mushroom soup in the courtyard. Their happy laughter fills the air, painting the picture of a warm, loving family. Maybe I could even believe this is a happy family if I weren't about to die soon.

I was given a second life in this werewolf world, but it came with a task. The system assigned me four Alpha males. If I could make one of them fall completely in love with me, I would be resurrected in my original human world, where I had died during heart surgery. But I failed to win over any of the four. Because they all fell for the same woman, the true heroine of this world. They attacked me with the cruelest words and bullied me mercilessly, and every single one of them wished me dead. In the end, with my mission failed, I truly died by my own hand. When they saw my body, they crumbled. Not from grief, but from the weight of their own remorse.

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.

Everyone in my family could see the countdown floating above my sister's head. The pack priest said it was the Moon-Debt Curse, branded into her bloodline. When the countdown reached zero, the Moon Goddess would take one daughter of the Calder family. Everyone assumed that daughter would be my sister. From then on, she became the most precious child in our home. The best food belonged to her. The prettiest dresses belonged to her. Even our parents' bedtime stories belonged to her alone. I loved my sister, but I envied her for receiving every ounce of their love. On the night before her sixteenth birthday, I developed a raging fever after being poisoned by wolfsbane. Afraid I would cause trouble, our parents locked me in the basement storage room. I pounded on the door in terror. "Mom, let me out. I think I've been poisoned. My head hurts so much." Mom gritted her teeth. "Enough! Your sister may die before this night is over. Can't you let her have this one last day?" "But I really don't feel well." The sounds beyond the door gradually faded. Then my consciousness sank, little by little, into darkness.

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.

My mother, Samantha, believed I was born a liar. Because she was deceived by my father's sweet words in her youth and abandoned after giving birth to me and my sister, Mia, she harbored a deep, bitter hatred for lies. She begged a witch for two magic rings. The rule was simple: if the wearer lied, the ring would glow red and burn them with magic. Mia's ring never hurt her, even when she broke a vase and blamed it on me. But if I simply said, "I'm thirsty," my ring would sear my flesh until I screamed. At first, I tried to defend myself, but Mom would just say, "The ring doesn't lie. Only through repeated punishment can your wicked soul be cleansed." After thousands of burns, even I started to believe I was naturally evil. On the day of the Blood Moon Ball, Mom was getting ready to take my sister out. A sudden, agonizing pain hit my abdomen. I curled up on the floor, begging, "Mom, my stomach hurts so bad. Please help me." But the ring just glowed red, constantly releasing its burning magic. Mom looked down at me, drenched in cold sweat, with utter disgust. "Faking sick just to tag along to the ball? You never change!" She turned, took Mia, and slammed the front door behind her. The intense pain made my body feel light and floaty. Dizzy, I thought to myself: Maybe when I'm dead, I'll finally be an honest child, and Mom will be happy.

For the Christmas holiday, my family sets off to the Christmas holiday camp up north. Along the way, my younger brother, Jamie Hale, says he needs to use the restroom. Mom tells my older sister, Ava Hale, and me to go as well. "It'll be a while before we reach the next rest stop, so you two should go with Jamie. I don't want anyone fussing to go to the restroom again on the way. And be quick! Don't waste time dawdling." I run to the restroom at once. But when I come back out, I see the familiar SUV slowly driving away. I'm left standing outside, in -4 degrees Fahrenheit weather, while a snowstorm sweeps through the rest stop. Mom and Dad have forgotten all about me, their Omega daughter. I've been left behind at the rest stop, with no one else around. I run as fast as I can, shouting, "Mom! Dad!" But the SUV turns the corner and disappears into the traffic along the interstate.

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?

The night of the Blood Moon Hunt, our pack was ambushed. We were being slaughtered. Yet my mate, Alpha Ridley, chose to save his first love, Yolia, without a second thought. He told me to stay behind and hold the line, claiming it was my duty as Luna. He claimed his precious Yolia was a vital warrior who needed to be protected. Even my own son, Leo, stood by Yolia's side to defend her. I was captured by the rival pack, tortured with a silver dagger until I was on the brink of death. Just as I was about to give up, a voice echoed in my mind. "The blood of the Luna Prime flows through your veins. You have three days. Let your life end before the eyes of your fated mate, or the one you love most, and you will be reborn." A power surged inside me, calling to me. I ran toward that glorious death, embracing it. But as I drew my last breath, I saw Ridley and our son, Leo, fall to their knees, howling my name, begging for a return I would never grant them.

I was slowly dying from Silverthorn Wolfsbane, and there was only one cure—the Miracle Elixir. But my mate, Leo Ashford, bought it and gave it to my adoptive sister, Jane Smith. He did it because he thought I was faking my illness. I gave up on the treatment and swallowed a potent painkiller instead. It would kill me in three days by shutting down my organs. In those three days, I gave up everything. I handed over the fur manufacturing business I built from the ground up to Jane, and my parents praised me for caring about my sister. I offered to sever our mate bond, and Leo praised me for finally being sensible. When I told my son he could call Jane "mommy", he happily said that his new mommy was the best! I transferred all my savings to Jane, and no one seemed to notice anything out of the ordinary. They were just pleased with my "better behavior". "Viola is finally not so bad." I wondered—would they regret it after I was gone?

To save his childhood sweetheart suffering from a congenital heart condition, my mate Ethan—the storm pack’s Alpha—forced me to remove my heart to be given to his beloved. "Don't worry, you are the rarest white wolf with the strongest healing ability. I have prepared an artificial heart for you, and you will be fine." Ethan said. I tried to explain to my mate Ethan that my healing ability has become very poor in the past year, so that transplanting my heart would kill me. My mate snarled at me with disgust, "Selene is so gravely ill, and here you are, jealous and fighting for attention! She saved my life when I was suffering from silver poisoning a year ago! You won't die anyway, so why can't you help her?" Under the mandatory order of my mate, I was sent to the pack healer for the heart transplant. He didn’t know that I was the one who had exchanged my rare white wolf's healing ability with a witch to save him from silver poisoning. In the end, with my healing abilities gone, I died miserably in a forgotten corner of the empty healer's cabin.

I was diagnosed with Neurogenic Wolf Spirit Atrophy. In half a month, I would be dead. The day I received the diagnosis, I decided to give up treatment and donate my body to the Central Research Institute after my death. Through the mind link, I reached out to my brother, whom I hadn’t seen in six years, hoping he would help me sign the papers. He sneered and cut off the link without any hesitation. With the Spirit Severance Donation Contract, a formal waiver of my right to have my wolf spirit returned to my pack's sacred grounds after death, I crossed countless territories alone to the high-ranking city where he resided. He had been promoted to commander of the Silverfang Patrol, basking in glory. He casually signed the document without even looking at me, then said with chilling indifference, “Don’t ever come to me again. Given how ungrateful you are, I can't be bothered to give you a proper burial." I nodded lightly. “I understand.” He did not know that the money for his treatments in the past years had come from me. Now, there were only seven days left until my death.

"If you're so set on targeting Nancy, you can stay locked in here and reflect on what you've done, Mira. It's time for you to experience what it feels like to lose your freedom for a change." Nancy Sterling, my adopted sister, accidentally gets locked in her room for an entire day. Maverick Lovell, my brother, and Luca Lockwood, my betrothed mate, immediately have me locked up in a sealed chamber once used to execute criminals. I notice that the sealed chamber reeks of wolfsbane fumes. I struggle frantically and cry out for help. "There are wolfsbane fumes in here—this is where they execute criminals! Please let me out, Maverick and Luca!" I feel a glimmer of hope ignite within me when I hear their footsteps come to a stop—only for their next words to crush it. "You can drop the act now, Mira! Those wolfsbane fumes were cleared out years ago!" "Aren't you tired of putting on an act all the time, Mira?" They instruct the guards to keep a close eye on me, then walk away without looking back. I fight with everything I have to stay alive, but there's nothing I can do. They finally take pity on me and open the door a week later, only to be driven mad with regret at the sight of my cold, lifeless body.

My elder sister, Alice, was a white wolf. A witch had foretold that my power would devour hers, that the moment I shifted during our coming-of-age ceremony, she would die. The only way to save her was to suppress my power, let her shift first at the ceremony, and break the curse. To save her, my parents spent eighteen years breaking me. And the night before our ceremony, they followed the witch's orders and locked me in the basement with silver-banded iron chains. "Be good, Maria. The silver will only delay your shift. Just get through tomorrow, and your sister lives. Then we can all stop suffering." The chains pressed against my chest. I could barely breathe. But something was wrong. My shift was starting, early. I slammed my fists against the door. "Mom, it's starting. I'm shifting now—" "Don't lie to me." Her voice cut through, sharp and loud. "The witch said both of you shift on ceremony day. Or are you really that eager to watch your sister die?" Footsteps faded down the hall. The pain hit, searing, ripping through every bone. I curled into the corner, feeling my wolf slip away.

My sister shoved me onstage during her graduation performance, even though she knew silver dust had left me barely able to see. “We need someone blind for the last scene, Ivy. Nobody else can make it look real. You’re perfect.” The spotlights flared, wiping out what little blurry vision I had left. I reached for my mate through our bond, begging for help, but Keller only soothed me. “Five minutes, Ivy. We’re all right here. Don’t be scared.” When I tearfully begged him again to get me off the stage, his patience finally ran out. He blocked our link, just as my parents had blocked theirs. They said they couldn’t let my bad mood ruin my sister’s graduation project, but the project was mine: I had drawn every detail before I was hurt. After the performance, they left with my sister. I felt my way toward the steps, only to fall through a loose trapdoor. A silver spear on a prop rack pierced my chest, and my wolf gave one last, mournful cry inside my mind. On my phone, my family was sending photos from their celebration dinner. “Ivy, stop sulking and come join us. We’ll take another picture when you get here.” I no longer had the strength to answer. They would never have to wait for me to take a family photo again.

When we were small, a witch named Sybil predicted that my sister would not live past sixteen. Since then, every eye in the family turned toward her. All the love in that house gathered around Aurora and stopped there. Whatever she wanted, whatever she wanted to do, our parents backed her completely. Every scrap of tenderness and every resource they had went to her, while I was left out in the cold, and the things that should have been mine were handed to her too. Even so, I never complained, not once. I knew my sister was someone to be pitied. Then the day of the prophecy came, the day she turned sixteen, and I was the one who ended up poisoned with wolfsbane, of all people, hanging on the edge of death. My parents were busy with her. They decided I was making a scene, and they ordered the guards to throw me out of the castle. My arms and legs had no strength left. I dragged myself toward the doors and called out in a shaking voice, "Dad, Mom, let me in, please, it hurts so much..." Instead, from behind the doors my father's gentle voice said to my sister, "Don't worry, sweetheart. The one causing trouble has been put out. No one is going to take your parents' love away from you again." Hearing that, something in me died for good. With the sound of my family fussing over her drifting through the door, I slowly closed my eyes.

My father is the First Warrior of the Moonflash pack. He often takes me to all kinds of banquets, and I always look forward to them. Today, he brings me to a banquet hosted by Judy. I take a bite of raw meat on my plate and immediately spit it out. I once ate raw meat when I was younger, and my stomach hurt for several days. I nearly died. The healer later told me that I'm allergic to the protein in raw meat, and that experience left a lasting impression on me. Judy looks hurt when she sees my reaction. "I went to the forest myself to catch that reindeer," she says. "I killed it just this morning. I didn't cook it so that I wouldn't ruin its freshness. I didn't expect Ray would turn her nose up at it." Dad is angry about how rude I am, so he chases me out of the banquet and locks me up in a cramped lounge. The lounge is hot and stuffy, and I soon start finding it hard to breathe. A sharp pain twists in my stomach like a knife. I want to find Dad, but no matter how much I bang on the door, he refuses to open it. Through the window, I can see Dad and Judy standing in the center of the hall. They're conversing happily, but no one even looks in my direction. I'm suffocating, so I lie on the floor. I want to shout for Dad, but I can't make a sound no matter how hard I try. Then, I realize that I'm standing up and can walk through the door. But why is my body still lying on the floor? That's when it hits me. I'm dead.

Five years after I mated to Alpha Derek Blackwood, his childhood sweetheart broke her mate bond with another Alpha and returned to our pack. Even worse, I had depleted my life force saving Derek when he was mortally wounded, and now I was dying. In the less than six months I had left to live, I continued to play the role of Derek's good mate. Until I passed away. And Derek, after reading the journal I left behind, completely fell apart.