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Not My Mate, Not This Time

Not My Mate, Not This Time

When I turned eighteen, I completed my shift and finally gained my wolf. The Lycan King of the Northern Tribe—Karl Gilmore, my father's close friend—handed me photos of his sons and told me to choose a mate. Whomever I chose would become the next Lycan King. Without hesitation, I pointed to his eldest son, Sven Gilmore. Everyone was stunned because everyone knew, for years, I had always loved the third son, Erik Gilmore. I'd trailed after Erik like a shadow, declaring loudly to the whole world that I'd marry him someday, that I'd be his mate. In my previous life, I did marry Erik. And he did become the next Lycan King. But a year into our marriage, he betrayed me with my stepsister and got her pregnant. Furious, the old Lycan King forced her to abort the pup and exiled her to another pack. From that moment on, Erik despised me. He started bringing home a different mistress every night. I was furious, helpless, and eventually, I died in the dead of winter. I never expected that when I opened my eyes again, I'd be back at eighteen, standing at the very moment I was meant to choose my mate. This time, I won't choose Erik. This time, I'll step aside and let him have his love with my sister. But why did Erik break down in tears when I chose someone else, begging me to come back?
Short Story · Werewolf
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My Father’s Regret After He Abandoned Mother and Me for Family Vacation with His Mistress

My Father’s Regret After He Abandoned Mother and Me for Family Vacation with His Mistress

I was born into a regular family in the Moonridge Pack with no status, but through years of training, I fought my way up to become our pack's Gamma. My father was just an Omega and he worked as an ordinary salesman who always claimed he was too busy for family. When he finally took a vacation, I spent $100,000 of my own money to plan a luxury cruise for us all. Then his mistress Sarah and her daughter Emily heard about our trip and suddenly wanted to join. Without even discussing it, my father gave them our luxury suite and relegated Mom and me to the cramped staff quarters below deck. Even my grandmother, a respected elder, supported his decision. My fourteen-year-old brother took their side too, charmed by their fake sweetness. So I changed our plans. I took Mom on a first-class flight to a private island resort instead, where we spent three perfect months. That's when the family started to panic...
Short Story · Werewolf
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Too Late For Remorse

Too Late For Remorse

After the birth of our daughter, my husband left for a dangerous mission. My in-laws' initial joy soured, and they regarded my baby with disdain. Maria, my mother-in-law, was particularly scornful. In a rare show of familial love, my father-in-law Lincoln took my daughter out for a playdate. I thought he had finally grown fond of her, only for him to strike me the moment he returned. "How dare you betray my son! I'll kill you!" "Yes! Beat that loose woman to death together with that brat!" Shifting my gaze from the report on the floor to my furious father-in-law, I pulled out several photos—my naked mother-in-law Maria, caught with another man. "Let's see who the real loose woman is!"
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Behind Bars You Go

Behind Bars You Go

Just as the Silverwolf Pack was about to fall into ruin, Blaise Larkin approached me and asked me to be his mate. I'd had a crush on Blaise for as long as I could remember. Now that my wildest dreams were about to come true, I was happy to form a mate bond with him. As I was the sole daughter of the Eastern Pack's Alpha, I was able to provide him with a mountain of resources by becoming Blaise's mate. One month after our bonding ceremony, I was expecting a pup. I was ecstatic, but before I could share the news with Blaise, I overheard something soul-shattering. "I wonder who fathered the pup of our pregnant Luna." "She probably got involved with some filthy Rogue. There's no way Alpha Blaise will let her give birth to that mutt, right?" If it weren't for those werewolves, I wouldn't know that Blaise was pretending we never mated. When I demanded answers in a deranged manner, he threw me into the underground prison and forced me to atone for the death of his first love. "If you didn't insist on becoming my mate, Susie wouldn't have left the pack—she also wouldn't have gotten slaughtered by Rogues!" Eight months later, I lost my pup in the cell I was imprisoned in and died, soaking in my own blood. When I opened my eyes once again, I found myself back on the day Blaise asked me to be his mate.
Short Story · Werewolf
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Seeing Blood

Seeing Blood

Ethan West and I were together for seven years. Because of one promise, I gave up the thrill of being a gold-medal race car driver to become a housewife, tied to the mundane rhythm of pots and pans. Yet, Ethan never changed. His gentle care and thoughtfulness remained constant over the years, and I believed he loved me. Until the day I saw him, madly holding another woman, kissing her as if the world would end. It was then I learned the truth: I was Ethan's wife, but Tara was the unattainable princess he had always longed for.
Short Story · Romance
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Open Marriage Closed Heart

Open Marriage Closed Heart

My husband, Damien Falcone, had 99 lovers. And I was the mafia princess men lined up to die for. The day we got together, everyone in our world took bets. They said we wouldn't last three months. But then , everything changed. For me, he wiped his phone clean, built a rose manor, and got down on one knee. Then, on our wedding night, he told me he wanted an open marriage. "Our bodies can play," he said. "But our loyalty? That's just for us." I agreed. Then came his 100th lover, Sophia Ricci. She betrayed our family in an arms deal. Almost got my father killed. But Damien protected her. He even moved her into our home. So, I did what any heartbroken mafia princess would do. I got drunk and woke up in another man's bed. I just didn't know that man was Damien's uncle.
Short Story · Mafia
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A Heart Eclipsed by Shadows

A Heart Eclipsed by Shadows

Chuck Bassett, heir to an Urbington East fortune in Nuvark City, has dated 42 girlfriends—all foreign, all in white dresses, every single one with a mole at the corner of her eyebrow. People joke about his obsession, saying he'll never get over his first love, Lylith Fowler. Then, Lorrie Scarrow shows up. She's sharp, short-haired, hates dresses, and her eyes are clear and bright. She's nothing like the women he's dated before. Chuck buys her a private island. When she mentions how much she loves the stars, he fills the sky above their estate with millions of drones, crafting a shimmering galaxy just for her. He even gets her initial tattooed beneath his collarbone. Everyone is amazed. Chuck has finally moved on from the past. Even Lorrie starts to believe it. Until she spots him in the red-light district, shelling out a fortune to book a hostess for a whole month. The woman has short hair and a button-down shirt. She looks just like Lorrie. Chuck's friends are floored. "Have you lost your mind? Lylith changed her look, and now you're after someone who looks even more like her? Remember how she dumped you for that wealthy foreign businessman when she thought you were broke? "She only came crawling back after she found out you're the heir to one of the Four Great Families. You've always said there's nothing you hate more than women like that!" Chuck knocks back the shot. "I hate her, and I love her. She pulled me out of a fire ten years ago. No one else can ever replace her in my heart." "And what about Lorrie? You proposed to her! She gave up a career at one of the world's top design firms for you. Aren't you worried she'll walk away when she finds out?" Chuck leans back on the couch, his expression cold. "I won't marry a traitor. Lorrie's pure, innocent—the closest thing to how Lylith used to be. So I'll still marry her. She loves me too much to walk away." Unseen in the shadows, Lorrie stands frozen, her heart plummeting. Turns out, she's just another her.
Short Story · Romance
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The Curse of Death

The Curse of Death

Abductors bind me in a basement, subjecting me to the torment of dozens. Meanwhile, my husband, Evan Foster, dines by candlelight with his lover, Carmen Locke. My abductors grant me one chance to call for help, and I dial Evan's number. I'm certain he will come for me. I believe Evan would give his life for me, as he once vowed that his future held no meaning without me. Clinging to hope, I call the number etched in my heart. However, Evan scolds me for interrupting their date. "You think I'll come get you? Dream on. Maybe I'll bother to collect your body if you die out there." His words crush me, and I do die. Five days later, Evan stands before the autopsy table, grimacing at the mangled remains before him. Even as the police department's finest forensic expert, having dissected thousands of bodies, he condemns the killer's brutality. Yet, despite his cold dismissal of my desperate plea over the phone, he now wears a look of pity. Evan, if you knew these fragments belonged to me, would you still find me worthy of your compassion?
Short Story · Romance
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Imprisoned to Death

Imprisoned to Death

I died on the day I was supposed to form a mate bond with Alpha Ragnar. Since I did not show up, he went ahead and performed the ceremony with his childhood sweetheart, Nina. “Selena has already been marked by me, yet she still threw caution to the wind and cheated with a rogue. Her betrayal has brought shame upon us. She’s not worthy of being the pack’s Luna!” With just one careless sentence, Ragnar made my family a disgrace of the pack. My father was once a great warrior of the pack. He lost his wolf saving Ragnar, only to be drowned in a river as punishment for supposedly failing to discipline his own daughter. Our blood bond allowed me to feel his pain. However, I had been locked in a sealed, abandoned interrogation room—a silver cage. The mechanism inside was accidentally triggered, and thick poisonous gas filled the space. It killed me slowly and painfully. After my soul left my body, I appeared beside Ragnar and heard him say to Nina, “Thanks for your help today. If Selena hadn’t acted so foolishly, you wouldn’t have had to take her place in the ceremony. Ever since I marked her, she’s been getting bolder, thinking my affection gives her a free pass. How dare she skip such an important ceremony?!” However, the noble Alpha Ragnar seemed to have forgotten something. Just seven days ago, he threw me into a silver cage meant only for the most dangerous criminals to appease Nina. “You hurt Nina, so you must face the consequences. Take these three days to reflect. If you still won't admit your mistake, then don’t even think about ever leaving this place for the rest of your life.” I waited three days and then three more. The poisonous gas and silver ate away at my body, corroding me from the outside in. I endured seven days of unbearable pain before I finally died. When my body was found, it had been so ravaged by the poison that I was unrecognizable. As for the arrogant Alpha? He had completely lost his mind.
Short Story · Werewolf
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Left for Dead by the Mafia King I Loved

Left for Dead by the Mafia King I Loved

I married Rafe Maretti—the man who owned the Maretti Casino empire. Sophisticated, ruthless, but sinfully charming. By year three of our marriage, I introduced my little sister to his nephew, Adam Moretti—twenty-five, all sharp smiles and sharper ambition. He ran the dirtier side of the family’s business—arms, drugs, the kind of trade that dripped blood and money in equal parts. I married the powerful, irresistible uncle. She married the young, dangerous nephew. It was supposed to be our fairytale. Then one day, I got kidnapped in Rafe’s casino. Snatched by a rival mafia family desperate to force Rafe to sign over one of his biggest, most profitable casinos. Except Rafe didn’t answer the phone or even notice I was gone. The kidnappers grew impatient. First, it was slaps. Then punches. Then they shattered my leg and buried a knife in my stomach. Still no word from my husband. Until finally, after what felt like a hundred unanswered calls, a single message came through. "I’m with Bianca. She’s having a stomach. Stop calling." Once the kidnappers realized I had no value, they dumped me in a rotting warehouse like discarded luggage. It was Isla, my sister, who found me. She got me out. And then the brakes failed. The car spun out. Isla went unconscious beside me. I tried calling Adam. Isla’s husband. But as soon the call went through, all I could hear was. “Leave me along. Isla, I am in the middle of something here.” When I clearly heard a woman’s voice in the back. If not for a passing stranger, Isla and me wouldn’t have made it to the hospital, let along have survived. So when I opened my eyes again, the first thing I thought was: I’m divorcing that sorry bastard. The Maretti can go to hell.
Short Story · Mafia
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