7 Nights 7 Days Novels & Stories

Her lips trembled, but no words came out. Mrs. Cunningham stood to the side, wanting to curse at me, but not daring to. Seven years of marriage. Twenty years of friendship. In the face of betrayal and lies, it had all become worthless. I had nothing more to say. I turned, ready to leave this nauseating place.

Seven days. I had been locked in this bedroom for exactly seven days. I counted the passage of time by the way the pale winter light shifted across the hardwood floorboards and disappeared behind the heavy curtains. Seven days had passed since the freezing rain. Seven days since his weight crushed me into the mattress, and the raw, agonizing scream tore out of my own throat. The sound proved my voice was not dead. It was alive, and the realization terrified me so deeply I had not made another sound since.

I walked through the back door and into the east garden and I stood in the middle of it and I breathed through my nose until my hands stopped wanting to shake. My wolf rose up slowly inside me. Fully, this time. Like she had been waiting for exactly this moment to finally take up all the space she had been denied. The letter was still in my pocket. Heir to the Lycan throne. Fifteen days. I pressed my hand flat against my chest and I made myself a promise I had no intention of breaking. Damon Voss had spent seven years making me small. He had fifteen days to enjoy it.

"What are you looking for-- one bedroom, two?" "One." "We only have one-bedroom suites available." I nodded. "Yes ma'am, that's fine." "It will be four seventy for the night." "Okay. Can I get that for the week?" She nodded. "Do you have an account with us?" I shook my head. "Extended stay? It will be twenty eight-twenty; we're running a deal this week. I'll need a credit card for incidentals. How many keys will you need?" "One," I said, passing her my credit card.

“I only want to breathe on my own again.” Montez sat back, silence stretching between them. His chest rose and fell with measured breaths. “How long?” She bit her lip. “I don’t know. Maybe two or three weeks.” “What??” His eyes darkened instantly. “No. Absolutely not.” Amira’s shoulders slumped, frustration edging her voice. “Why not?” “One week,” he said, his tone final. “You will have seven days in that apartment. After that, you return here.” Her lips parted in protest, but he raised a hand, cutting her off. “One week, Amira. If you can’t accept that, then you’re not leaving at all.”

"Not about us. About them." Matthias looked at me. "Good," he said. We got in the car. Seven days.

They led Zren to her assigned suit and even opened the door for her. Before leaving the two workers smiled at Zren and said, "Enjoy your seven-day trip at Amethyst Cruise Ship Ma'am!" Zren's warm smile froze the moment they heard what the two of them had just said. "Did you guys just say, seven days? Did I misheard it?" "No Ma'am, the shortest trip is seven days," one of the two workers answered. Zren was still dazed when the two workers left, she was about to explore the first-class suit when she saw a familiar envelope laying on the expensive-looking coffee table.

"I already know your marriage is only for seven days, Tatiana Richardson." Tatiana froze mid-step, fighting to keep her breathing steady. She had thought he was finished with her when he allowed her to leave—only for his words to strike her like poison. Seven days... he knows? Slowly, Tatiana turned, meeting Jacob's gaze. Her lips trembled, but her voice came out calm, clipped. “I... I don’t know what... you’re talking about.”

"Something small." "Your definition of small is unreliable," I told him, and he only smiled, refusing to say more. The suitcase sat closed against the wall when we got into bed that night. Seven days. He reached for me in the dark, and I moved closer without thinking twice about it. "A week," I whispered. "I know." "That's not very long." "Then come here," he said, and I did. There were seven nights left before Damien left the country, and suddenly I understood that I didn't want to spend a single one of them rehearsing how to sleep without him.

“It will hurt at first. For both of us. But over time, it will fade enough for you to keep living your life.” Her fingers tightened around the sheet. “And if I don’t?” He held her gaze. “Then you can give me seven days.” Harmony blinked. “Seven days?” “Seven days with me. Not because of the bond. Not because of one night in New York or thirty days of dreams. Seven days in your real life. Morning, evening, ordinary things. You decide if you want me to stay and keep building what we started.” His voice lowered. “Or if you want me to leave forever.”