A Stepmother's Marchen Novels & Stories

After the birth of Phillipa, it even became worse because a child now meant that she could secure her claim to the name, March. "Arghhhhh" I stomp my feet on the ground and let out a scream into the cold chilly air. Maybe I need to take a walk to calm my nerves. I can't go back there in this mood, I'll be forced to do something I don't want to do. It's late at night. We had just finished dinner before my stepmother started barking once again. I hate her so much. So much, I wish father never married her. It's twenty years late for regrets

A magnificent mansion, elegantly adorned bedrooms, and a graceful Claire Davis gazing at her refined reflection in the mirror on the dressing table. Her features were delicate, and her eyes were as dark as black grapes, brimming with vitality. Claire silently observed her own reflection for a while before standing up. Dressed in a light blue sweetheart neckline gown, she descended the staircase slowly. Today was her mother's wedding, and she was the bridesmaid. As she turned the corner of the staircase platform, pacing back and forth, Claire collided with the groomsman—her new stepbrother and her stepfather's eldest son, Lysander.

“We’ll make time.” Determination set in Diego’s eyes as he turned toward the door. “Then we leave now.” *** The journey through the dense forest was grueling. Shadows stretched unnaturally beneath the moonlight, whispering threats with every gust of wind. A cold wind snaked through the trees, carrying with it whispers that slithered into their ears—half-formed words, ghostly warnings. Henry, barely able to walk on his own, leaned heavily on Xavier for support. The deeper they went, the more the weight of the darkness pressed upon them, like unseen hands trying to drag them under.

"Are we going to stand here all day? Aren't we going in?" Marco chuckled and started the car. "You're right. Let's go in." ~~~ After they got out of the car, they made their way to the mansion's back garden, where the family was already waiting. The moment Marcello caught sight of Silvia, his stepmother, from a distance, he slowed his steps and froze, as if unable to move forward. Memories of the past surged through his mind, and Silvia stood at the center of them, the villain of his story.

The next day, in the early morning, the big field was already bustling with people. Conversations filled the air as everyone gathered in groups, eagerly awaiting the commencement of the first test. Today marked Leanor's first opportunity to embark on a journey in search of homeless werewolves, and she was filled with anticipation. Curiosity got the better of her as she turned to Raina and asked, "What is it like in the forest? Is it dangerous? Are there wild werewolves or other animals?"

I get to my feet and mumble, "Come inside." My stepmother enters, draped in a long turquoise gown, her favorite color. Her dark hair is tousled down her back and she has a habit of running her fingers through it repeatedly. A maid is by her side, a frightened look plastered on her face. "Your lover is here to meet you," she tells me. I scowl at the bitterness in her voice, but my voice is composed when I reply, "Let him inside." She fixes a stern look on me and then crossing the distance between us, she holds my face in her hand, her fingernails digging in my cheeks. "Don't even try anything foolish, girl. I have all of my eyes and ears on you."

Lousia turns around to look at me, her eyes narrowed, but then her mouth stretches into a wicked grin. “Ah, here she is.” In a flash, they move toward me. I don’t even get the full phrase out as I ask, “What’s happening?” With no response, I’m grabbed by two of the men and dragged forward, my screams cut off by my impact with the floor at the smaller man’s feet. “She’s quite thin,” he says with a look of disgust, the toe of his boot hooking under my chin and forcing me to look upright. “This winter has been hard on the whole pack, I’m afraid,” my stepmother says with a click of her tongue.

The voice that once belonged to my mother’s mate, my stepfather was now something darker, twisted. Lucien stepped into the light, his features a mask of control barely hiding the fire raging behind his eyes. His gaze swept over me, not with concern, but possession. “I reject you as my mate,” I choked, tears streaking my cheeks. “You’re not my mate. You’re my… my—” He cut me off with a chuckle. “Still clinging to that fantasy?” His voice dipped low, mocking. “You think the Moon Goddess cares about your childish rejection? I’ve marked you. That makes you mine.”

The stepmother looked smug and said, "I'm not afraid of him at all. He's just a loser under our control." Alaric was extremely worried. "Nathan has already found out about what the two of us did. It seems like he won't let us off the hook." Just now, the stepmother, who was as steady as a mountain, suddenly became as fragile as a willow in the wind, trembling intensely. "We have a son, what are we afraid he will do?" The stepmother's momentum was not inferior, but she spoke in a fragmented and incoherent manner. Alaric wearily leaned back on the sofa, closing his eyes to rest.

A woman should never be Don. I saw my stepmother come down the stairs, tomas firmly in her grip, “I wish you would stay away from my family, but alas here we are once again Ariana” my stepmother said as she walked towards me. I looked down at tomas, he looked sickly, and he averted my gaze, “hi tomas” I smiled but he wouldn't look at me, my stepmother laughed. “He knows what you did, you stupid whore” she mentioned and my heart started to beat anxiously.