A Stepmother's Marchen Novels & Stories

“Did you miss me?” Her auburn hair darkens. Her face shifts, aging slightly. And suddenly I’m staring at my stepmother—the woman who died when Alistair attacked our pack. Except she’s not dead. She’s very, very alive. And she’s a witch. “No,” I breathe, my legs going weak. “No, this can’t…” “I’ve been playing you all like puppets,” Kate, my stepmother, continues, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “Orchestrating every tragedy, every betrayal, every death.”

The memories from the conversation with my stepmother began to flood back, and I felt myself slipping into that terrible moment again, replaying her words in my mind as they resurfaced in painful clarity. Flashback I recalled the way my stepmother had looked at me—her gaze predatory, filled with a cruel satisfaction that sent chills down my spine. She had smiled as if savoring a long-awaited victory, her voice a cold whisper. “You were lucky back then, you know?” she said, her tone almost playful. “Those three rogue wolves… they should’ve killed you. Imagine my disappointment when they failed and you somehow escaped to this pack.” The realization of her intent hit me hard. “The rogues… You s

My trembling hand reached out and clasped my mother's limp hand, begging her to hold on. "Mother," I choked out, my voice breaking. "Please, don't leave us. Fight this. I need you." Tears streamed down my face as I watched her pale features. Her eyes, once vibrant and full of life, were now clouded and distant. She struggled to speak, her voice barely a whisper. "Listen to your stepfather, my dear," she gasped weekly. "He will guide you, protect you... always." I looked up at the king, my stepfather, seeking answers that seemed to elude me. "Who would do this to her?" I demanded, my voice filled with fury. "She is pure light, loved by all."

Zarek hissed and she turned to face him. "Of course I know, those childish tricks couldn't have been anyone else," she mumbled. Zarek launched himself at her, and Axel held him back. "Childish tricks," Axel gritted, and she smiled. "Yes,, childish, a very similar action that my stepmother used to get back at me," she took a deep breath. "I have to go; your father is waiting for me." She walked away and didn't look back. “You think you can handle this, huh?” I muttered to myself, but I wasn’t sure who I was talking to—her or me.

demon:- I know the past can not be changed, there is no point in hating you, you have changed, and now you look like a strange person to me, I have forgiven you but not you, your past selves. stepmother:- can you please take care of your little sister, she told me she wants to stay with you as a family, in exchange you can have access to all my fortune and network. demon:- what if I reject your offer? stepmother:- I know you don't show but you are a kind human, who would help her without anything in return. demon:- I can not protect your daughter, the road I am heading is filled with blood and pain, I may die any moment and my enemy with cause problems for her.

Zeke lay at my feet, broken and defeated, his once-mighty army scattered to the winds. With a satisfied smirk, I surveyed the scene before me, relishing in the sweet taste of victory. At that moment, I was not just a prince, I was a force of nature, a predator unleashed, and none would dare challenge my dominance again. "Stop!! Stop!!! Stop it right now I command you!" My stepmother's voice cut through the chaos, her frantic steps echoing across the courtyard as she rushed to her son's side. Clutching him tightly, she wailed before fixing me with a venomous glare. "How dare you, Bastard! How dare you harm your brother!" she spat, her words dripping with contempt.

"Good. Now, you say your mother sent you. Did you whore of a mother come back to life and request a cake?" I raised my head and watched the scrawny man from under my lashes. His wife had been snatched by the chief. He was depressed and sad. So I didn't hate him for the cruel words he said to me. I understood him. "I am sorry, my stepmother. Catherine Howard," I said. "Oh, Catherine..." He dragged the name over his tongue as he searched the cupboards like my stepmother's name was the beacon he needed to find the cake faster. "Aahh!" He exclaimed.

No matter how much I wish I could. As soon as I step out, the knock on the door is deafening. My mother’s voice follows, shrill and commanding. “Emma, get the damn door open this instant!” Her anger cuts through me, making my heart race in my chest. I unlock the door slowly, and she shoves it open with an urgency that feels almost violent. I step back, and she marches in, her eyes locked on me, full of fury. I close the door behind her, my chest tightening as I cross my arms, trying to appear calm.

Her stepmother stood a few steps away, holding her glass of wine, her expression calm… almost amused. “Do you really think you’re that important?” she asked. The words were quiet. But they hit hard. Elara’s brows pulled together. “What did you say?” Her stepmother took a step closer. “I asked,” she repeated, tilting her head slightly, “do you really think you deserve everything just because your late mother left you here?” Elara froze. Something inside her chest tightened painfully. “My mother” “That woman,” her stepmother cut in smoothly, “was weak. And look at you… you turned out just the same.”

mode. I couldn't even look at myself in the mirror. I also thought about the text message sitting on my phone like a live grenade. The stalker had seen us. He had seen Chadwick pinning me to that desk, he had seen me unraveling under my stepfather’s touch. But how? how did he see us? I just didn't understand it. "I see you are your stepfather's slut. I want you too. We should meet." The threat against my mom was still the leash around my neck, but after last night, after the way Chadwick had looked at me with such cold dismissal once he was done, I felt a sudden, sharp spike of defiance.