Agony In Pink Novels & Stories

Selena Vanson, my adopted sister whom my brothers had brought back from the borders, has framed me. She claims that I've laced her birthday cake with wolfsbane. Hence, my brothers throw me into the silver mine, which has long since been sealed off. I scream for mercy while struggling against my bonds with all my might. But all I get is an icy judgment from Leo Wilde, my oldest brother who's the Alpha of the pack. He looks at me with hatred in his eyes, as though he's looking at a filthy beast. "Selena has been taking care of you without minding the fact that you're a low-tier Omega. Yet, you intend to poison her and even kill her wolf out of jealousy toward her blood purity! You deserve to die!" My other two brothers, Luke and Ryan Wilde, have even tied heavy rocks to my limbs for fear that I might escape. "You often act innocent and wronged, but the truth is, you have such a vile heart! Our family is embarrassed to have a lowly Omega like you!" "It's best if you die! No one here wants to see you ever again!" Even my younger brother, Rupert Wilde, who is raised by me, mocks me as well. "Lorraine, you should be sensible. Even without you around, Selly will still be nice to me. But without us, you're nothing but an abandoned mutt." After that, they close the mine's door on me. Silver powder soon rushes into my nose and mouth. I feel as though my body is lit on fire. Pain and agony soon engulf me whole. Once my brothers think that I've been punished enough and want to spare me from the torture, there's nothing left of me inside the mine pit but a pile of blood and bones.

My stepmother—my father's new mate—demanded the code to the safe. The safe that held my mother’s moonstone amulet. I ignored her. I was too busy preparing for the pack's centennial blessing ceremony. Not long after, she sent a second text: "Since you wouldn't reply, I had someone force it open. The stone is way too big, though. I'm having it cut down so it looks good on me." I dropped the candlestick, shifted, and tore off toward home. But I was too late. The moonstone lay shattered in the middle of the living room. Its lunar warmth was gone. Heartbroken, I roared, "That belonged to my mother! How dare you touch it?" Livia lounged on the sofa, lazily filing her nails. She didn't even bother to look up. "I needed a necklace to match my dress for tomorrow. You didn't text back, so I handled it myself. Stop being so dramatic." "Dramatic? Do you know what that was? It wasn't just my mother's, it was—" Boom. Alpha aura slammed into me like a mountain. My legs gave out instantly. My father—Marcus, the Alpha of our pack—stood before me. His golden wolf eyes shrank with fury. "Your mother has been dead for twenty years! Why do you keep bringing her up just to upset Livia? Show some respect to your Luna!" I stared at them, fighting the agony tearing through my wolf. Livia let out a bored yawn. My father shot me a look of pure disgust. Hands shaking, I let out a cold laugh. They had no idea. That amulet wasn't just my mother's legacy. It was the pack’s only conduit to the Moon Goddess for the centennial ceremony. Without it, the entire pack was doomed.

For my birthday, I got a gift box. Inside was a dead silver fox. Its fur was peeled away. Dark, profane runes were carved into its flesh. My wolf cried out in agony, then shattered. I desperately reached for my Alpha, Darian, through our mate bond. “Darian… help me… My wolf… my heart…” His response was ice cold. “Maeve, stop being so dramatic. It’s just a prank. A Luna should be stronger than this. Amara has a fever. I’m with her.” He just cut the bond. He chose his childhood friend over me. Her mate had recently died, and she only had a low-grade fever. I was left to collapse in agony. I didn't get help until a pack beta found me and rushed me to the medical center. It took me three whole days to recover. When Darian finally came back, reeking of Amara’s sweet perfume, he sneered at me. "I knew you were faking it. How could a dead fox hurt you? You just wanted to stop me from comforting her!" I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream. I just handed him a document to sign. Compensation, I said, for choosing Amara over me. He signed it without even looking. "Is this about money? Don't be another jealous she-wolf. Don't cause trouble for me. I can give you anything. Amara and I grew up together. She's important to me. You know that." I just nodded. I didn't say a word. The next day, he took Amara to an Alpha-only alliance dinner. Pictures were all over the werewolf social feeds. He had no idea what he’d signed. It wasn’t a compensation agreement. It was a rejection of our mate bond. I counted down the three days. I calmly packed my most precious things. Then, I pulled out my burner phone. “Uncle Marcus? I need a private jet to the South.”

To ransom my husband from the black market, I threw myself into relentless work, earning every penny I could. My son suffered alongside me, sharing in my exhaustion and deprivation. Years of malnutrition had left him vulnerable, and eventually, he was diagnosed with leukemia. I wept as I scraped together money from relatives and friends to pay for his chemotherapy. But on the way to the hospital, a sudden, unbearable pain wracked him. In his struggle, he accidentally bit off his own tongue and died in agony before we even reached the doors. I clutched my son's ashes and went straight to the black market, determined to use the borrowed money to bring my husband back. The moment I stepped in, I overheard a conversation between Joe Masseria and his men. "Boss, Sandra comes every month with her payments. She's suffered a lot just to ransom you," one said. At that moment, a widow—Joe's sister-in-law, long mourning her late husband—appeared beside him. "Joe," she said, her voice calm but cutting, "all these years, you've protected me from harm, even giving me the title of a mob boss's wife. But you've kept Sandra in the dark the whole time. Isn't that… terribly unfair to her?" Joe's eyes were cold, devoid of any pity for me. He scoffed. "Fairness is ruthless. She's had all this love from me. What's a little suffering compared to that? "But she's waited for me all these years. It's time I returned—before she loses her mind and comes after you. "If she's still sensible, I'll make sure her and her son's quality of life improves a bit." I understood everything in that instant. Holding my son's ashes to my chest, I wept until it felt as if my heart would shatter. Joe—your so-called fairness killed my son. And I am done waiting for you.

To save the merfolk from slaughter, I seduced the vampire lord himself-Lazarus. He still loved me after all. For three days and three nights, he drowned himself in my body, unwilling to let me out of his arms for even a second. I roused from the haze of fleeting bliss, only to have a searing, corrosive liquid poured mercilessly over my head. "You with eternal healing can taste the sting of agony？" "Yet your trivial suffering pales in comparison to the loss of my kin you brought upon me. It is nothing at all!" "This is merely the beginning. Refuse to reveal where my parents lie hidden, and you shall never break free from this castle." He was convinced that I alone had destroyed everything he held dear. Holding the entire merfolk’s lives hostage, he confined me within the castle. Time and again, he tore open my chest by force, wrenching out my pearl of the mer, feeding its essence to Isolde to mend her frail flesh. He condemned me to sleepless nights, forcing me to cleanse the filth he left behind. Barefoot, I was made to dance the mermaid’s lament upon razor-sharp silver blades, writhing in pain to lull Isolde into slumber. Later, Isolde feigned a pregnancy. Driven by false tenderness for her, Lazarus took to slicing chunks of my immortal mermaid flesh with cold blades, brewing them into nourishing potions for her. Hatred for me burned deep in his bones, yet whenever I was on the brink of death, he would still force his own blood down my throat to keep me alive. "You presume too much on my lingering love for you, choosing silence over the truth, do you not? Aurora… tell me, what became of my parents?" I endured in silence, bearing witness to his love torn between hatred and longing. Soon, I would no longer need to guard that fatal secret. For a mermaid who dwells on land for three years shall wither and perish, severed from the sea that gives her life. Only three days remained until my final breath.

Niccolo Rossi, my five-year-old son, accidentally wanders into the location where an underground firearms transaction between mafia forces is being conducted. He ends up dying from the gunfire there. Upon receiving the bad news, I collapse immediately. When I wake up, my husband, Luca Rossi, wears a guilty look. He takes my hand and comforts me, "Elena, Niccolo's death is a misunderstanding. Everyone thought he was a spy belonging to the enemy forces, so they started a crossfire with each other." In the middle of the night, I overhear his conversation with his assistant, Marco Giordano. "Don Rossi, Niccolo was still alive, but why did you order for the medics to stop treating him?" Marco sounds very confused. "Niccolo's injuries are far too grave. He'll just end up being a burden to us even if he survives," Luca says sorrowfully. "Besides, I've already promised Gina that the next heir of the Rossi family can only be our illegitimate son, Lorenzo. Now's the best time to arrange for the swap. No one will ever suspect a thing." "But… what should we do about Mrs. Rossi?" Marco sounds worried. "I'll deal with her." Luca's voice becomes calm. "I'll bring Lorenzo over and claim that he's an orphan from the orphanage. Since Elena has just lost Niccolo, she'll definitely raise Lorenzo as her own son. It's a win-win situation for us." As I lie on the hospital bed, I can only cover my mouth in agony to stop myself from sobbing out loud. Niccolo's death wasn't an accident at all. He was still alive, and yet Luca allowed him to die for the sake of his own bastard son! I dig out the high-explosive ammunition core data that my father has given to me prior to his death, which was once the most sought after item in the entire mafia underworld of the east coast. Then, I dial the hotline belonging to the Gambino family, which is the biggest mafia family in Novaro. "I can give you the core data under one condition—I want the Rossi family to disappear from the face of Earth in three days."

When I was three years old, during a car accident, I was struck in the head by a car while trying to protect Mom. After that, the doctors said something inside my head had broken, and I'd never be quite right. Everyone back home called me the slow one. Late at night, I'd see her crying alone. On my seventh birthday, Mom took me to Manhattan, and that was when I discovered that she had a second home and another daughter, Charlotte. In front of strangers, she wouldn't claim me. She only let me call her Miss Eleanor. On the third night, She sat down at her vanity. On the table was a small black box. I thought it was a present. She opened the box and took out a black silicone bracelet, with a little light embedded in the clasp—small, dark, switched off. "This is called a TruthBand. It's something a company in California makes. The light turns green when you tell the truth, and red when you lie. If you wear this, Mommy will always know." She fastened it around my wrist. Tight. The little light blinked green. I thought that if I was good enough, she would love me the way she loved my sister. But then she made me do ski practice with Charlotte. Charlotte was a junior champion. "You're both my daughters. I don't play favorites. Whoever falls, gets punished." Charlotte never fell. I couldn't even keep my skis straight. Every single run, I was the one Mama dragged off the mountain and locked in the cellar. On Thanksgiving Day, Mama spent the whole afternoon cooking. I wanted to help. I dropped a bowl. She closed her eyes. When she opened them, they were red. She grabbed a little pill bottle off the counter, tipped my chin up, and forced something between my teeth. "Dumb as a rat. Are you happy now? Did you finally embarrass me enough? " I lay on the kitchen floor, gasping. While she wasn't looking, I scraped up three little pink pellets that had spilled and tucked them into my fist. Mommy, I told myself, I'll be good now, and then you'll be happy. Right?

Before Grandpa passed, he left behind two things: a billion-dollar fortune and three matches. He said, "Each of you gets to pick one. Renee, you're the oldest, so you go first." I did not hesitate for even a second and chose the fortune. That left my adopted sister, Vera Gallagher, with nothing but three matches. What none of us could have known was that those three matches were no ordinary matches. Each one, when lit, could make any wish come true. Vera resented our parents for favoring me, so she immediately cursed them a terrible death. Sure enough, Dad suddenly suffered a heart attack and died on the spot, and Mom was hit by a speeding semi-truck on her way to the hospital. I grabbed a kitchen knife and went straight to Vera to settle the score. I growled, "Didn't I tell you that once you turned 18, I would split Grandpa's inheritance with you? Our parents opened their home to you and gave you everything I had growing up. All these years, you ate the same food and wore the same clothes as I did. How could you betray them?!" Vera's face was filled with greed. "Since they chose to adopt me, they should have thrown you away and given me all the good things instead! I don't want your handouts. Once you're all dead, the money will be mine anyway!" With that, Vera sneered and lit the second match. "I wish Renee would be trafficked to some remote backwoods town, forced to carry and deliver eight babies at once, and die from complications!" I was horrified. I emptied my savings and hired over 1000 bodyguards to protect me day and night, making sure there was not a single weak spot. However, one night, every single bodyguard suddenly passed out at the same time, and I was kidnapped and sold deep into the mountains. I was tortured, abused, and forced to endure things no person should ever have to survive. I did not know how much time had passed before I finally swallowed my last breath in agony and humiliation. When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn on the very day the inheritance was divided.

The Clan Healer told me that without the vial of Progenitor's Blood, the Blood Blight afflicting me meant I had only seventy-two hours to live. But my husband, Miles, the new Duke of our world, gave the only vial of the precious cure to my adopted sister, Vivienne, the woman I had turned three years ago. "She's in agony from the rejection, Isolde. It's a pain you can't possibly understand." His tone was self-righteous, devoid of any concern for the patch of skin on my collarbone already turning to stone. I nodded, watching as the life-saving, dark red liquid slid down another woman's throat. I accomplished a great deal in the time I had left. As I signed the documents, the lawyer's hand trembled. "Are you certain you want to transfer everything, Your Grace? The territorial rights of a thousand-year-old clan..." I didn't hesitate. "Yes. To Vivienne." My adopted daughter, Lily, the girl I had risked everything to save, who was now forever frozen at the age of eight, cowered in Vivienne's arms, pointing at me and screaming, "Aunt Vivienne is my real mommy! You're the witch who turned us into monsters!" I offered no defense. "Yes, that's right. Be a good girl and listen to your new mother now." The Progenitor's Ring, the symbol of the clan's supreme authority, now rested on Vivienne's hand. "Oh, sister, you're too kind," she sobbed, her sobs a practiced performance. "I'll be sure to protect the family in your stead." I nodded. "You'll run things better than I ever did." I even signed away my control over the Elder Council, a council sustained by my own blood. For the first time in a century, a shadow of complex emotion crossed Miles's face. He stared at me,"Isolde, stop fighting. It's better this way. You need to rest." Yes. On my deathbed, I had finally become the perfect, submissive Isolde they always wanted. An Isolde who was about to turn to dust. The seventy-two-hour countdown had begun. I wondered, when I finally turned to ash,

At nine months pregnant, I was in the final stretch of my term, and my body heavy with a baby due any day. But my husband, Vito Falcone, underboss of the family, had locked me away. He held me in a sterile underground medical room and injected me with a labor suppressant. As I screamed in agony, he coldly told me to endure it. Because his brother's widow, Scarlett, was expected to go into labor at the exact same time. A blood oath he'd made with his late brother declared that the firstborn son would inherit the family's lucrative West Coast territory. "That inheritance belongs to Scarlett's child," he said. "With Daemon gone, she is utterly alone and destitute. You have my love, Alessia. All of it. I just need her to deliver safely. Then it's your turn." The drug was a constant, agonizing torment. I begged him to take me to a hospital. He grabbed me by the throat, forcing me to meet his icy gaze. "Stop the act! I know you're fine. You’re just trying to steal the inheritance." "To get ahead of Scarlett, you'll stop at nothing." My face was ashen. My body convulsed as I managed a desperate whisper. "The baby's coming. I don't care about the inheritance. I just love you, and I want our child to be born safely!" He sneered. "If you were really that innocent, if you had an ounce of love for me, you wouldn't have forced Scarlett to sign that prenup, waiving her child's inheritance rights." "Don't worry, I'll be back for you after she's given birth. you're carrying my own flesh and blood, after all." He kept a vigil outside Scarlett's delivery room all night. It was only after seeing the newborn in her arms that he remembered me. He finally sent his second in command, Marco, to release me. But when Marco finally called, his voice was shaking. "Boss... the missus and the baby... they're gone." In that moment, Vito Falcone shattered.