Bias Novels & Stories

My mother never believed me. To her, I was always just a lying pup. In my pack, every cub wore a Moon Oath Collar. Red meant you lied. White meant you told the truth. My sister’s collar always glowed a soft white. Even when she pretended to be sick to get out of an exam, her collar only gave off that gentle white light. Mine was different. Even when I was truly sick, my collar would burst into a violent red, and the punishment current would follow immediately. On my sister’s birthday, Mother prepared a bonfire feast for the whole pack. Just before they left, a splitting pain tore through my head, and I collapsed on the floor, begging her to help me. For one second, she almost picked me up. Then my collar flashed red. “To ruin your sister’s birthday, you’re even pretending to die? What a vicious child.” Then she walked out with my sister and left me alone on the floor. I died alone on the cold floor. But when I opened my eyes again, I was no longer inside my body. My soul drifted after my mother as I whispered the truth she had never believed. “Mom… I wasn’t lying. I really died.” And when they finally found my body, the red collar on my neck was still flashing.

I have claustrophobia, yet Luther Jansen abandons me in a stopped elevator so he can bring some flu medicine to his assistant. I ask for a divorce after that. He signs the papers without hesitation and laughs about it with his friends. "She's just throwing a tantrum—her parents are dead, so there's no way she'll leave me. "Besides, there's a 30-day cooling-off period for divorces, right? I'll generously let this matter slide once she regrets this, and she'll be back." The following day, he shares an intimate photo of himself with his assistant. "I want to record every moment of your shyness." I count the days until I'm free. Then, I calmly pack my stuff and make a call. "Can you buy me a flight ticket to Nanderton, Uncle David?"

My best friend, Mia Sullivan, had gone abroad for three years. When she finally came back, she was in tears. She said she had been dumped by a scumbag, was pregnant, and had nowhere to go. I felt terrible for her, so I not only let her move into my house but also asked my husband, Hudson Darby, to take extra care of her. That was until I found a prenatal checkup receipt in the study. The patient was Mia, and the family member who had signed was Hudson. I worried I was jumping to conclusions, so I shoved it back and rushed out the door. After I got downstairs, I realized I had forgotten the files I needed for my meeting, so I headed back up. That was when I saw Hudson and Mia in each other's arms. "What if Charlotte finds out the baby I'm carrying is actually yours?" Mia asked. "Don't worry. Charlotte trusts us so much, there's no way she'll figure it out," Hudson replied. In that moment, the seven years of love I had given him instantly turned into a cruel joke.

No one knows I'm the Alpha's mate. Or, to be precise—he's made damn sure no one ever will. A gutter girl from the Grey Zone. A wolf that never stirred. A nobody. How could someone like me ever be Luna of the Thornwood Pack? For three years, Casbian stashed me in the cracks and shadows. I took the edge off his ruts with my body. I fed him my blood to quiet the beast. I told myself—be good enough, useful enough, obedient enough—and one day he'd stand me before the pack and say the words. But three days from now, he's going to stand before the pack and call Lydia Ashford his Luna. I've stopped wanting a crown. I'm leaving. I'm going somewhere no Alpha will ever find me.

In the backyard of my home, there is a dark red jar that is about half a person's height. It is half buried in the ground, and my whole family forbids me from going near it. But I hear someone inside the jar calling me over and over. That voice says, "Sis, I miss you so much."

Alexander Morrison doesn't love me, nor does he love our daughter. The only person he loves is his first love, Charlotte Clarke. To maintain his perfect image in Charlotte's eyes, he only allows our daughter to call him "Uncle Alex". This continues until Charlotte becomes pregnant and goes abroad to marry someone else. Alexander drinks himself into oblivion and finally decides to marry me. When he comes home, our daughter gives him 100 forgiveness coupons. I tell him that once those 100 coupons are used up, I'll take our daughter and leave him forever. He holds us both tightly in his arms, swearing he will never make us sad again. During the initial few years of our secret marriage, he indeed does exceptionally well, as not a single coupon is used. That is, until Charlotte returns to the country with her daughter. Every time he abandons me and our daughter for Charlotte and her child, I tear off one forgiveness coupon. Now, only three coupons remain.

When I was seventeen, Cesare Cassano, the youngest son of the Cassano Family, saw me once—and that was it. He was hooked. At nineteen, he fought his way up and became the Don's chosen successor. At twenty-one, in front of the whole city, I said yes to Cesare's over-the-top proposal. Overnight, I became the woman every girl in Naples envied. Everybody knew the Cassano Don would do anything for me—anything—just to see me smile. And then three days later, at the billion-dollar wedding Cesare threw for me, livestreamed to the whole world, I fell off a cliff. Just like that, I was dead. Gone without a trace.

Terrance Burgess slapped me in front of the entire company, all because I accidentally knocked over his assistant's vase. My five-year-old son, Claude Burgess, stood off to the side, clapping like it was something worth cheering for. Afterward, the assistant walked up to me while holding the bouquet the father and son had given her, showing it off right in my face. "So what if you're the wife? The one who isn't loved is the real outsider." I looked at her calmly. "Then you'd better watch yourself. If he can have you on the side, he can just as easily find someone else after you." I used to think I had a happy, complete family. Until Terrance's assistant came along and made me realize it had all been in my head. The love from that father and son had already moved on to someone else. That was the moment something in me went completely still. I called a number I hadn't contacted in years. "Dad, I want to come home and take over the family business."

My husband, Lawrence Schwartz, and I were both liars. He lied to me, saying he would forget his first love, yet his phone is filled with photos of her. I lied to him, saying I would never leave, while secretly planning a future without him. A month ago, I tricked Lawrence into signing the divorce papers. Today was the final day to complete the entire divorce process.. Three hours left. I packed all my luggage and bought a plane ticket for the next day. Two hours left. I cut up every photo of us together, leaving only myself in the album. Last hour. I thought about leaving a message, then decided against it. Today marked the tenth year I had loved him and the first day I left him.

My sister had struggled with depression since childhood. The doctor warned that she could not tolerate any kind of stimulation. As a result, my entire life fell silent. To avoid upsetting her, I never dared to laugh at home. I never dared to cry. When I got hurt, I did not even have the right to say it hurt. My parents would hug me with apologetic expressions and say, "You're the good one. Your sister's illness requires the whole family to work together. You're healthy. You're strong. Let her have more, okay?" One day, I accidentally knocked over a cup. The crash sounded enormous in the quiet room, and my sister's emotions shattered at once. My father struck me for the first time. He roared, "Can't you be careful? Do you have to push her until she dies before you're satisfied?" He shoved me to the floor. The back of my head slammed against the corner of the table, and blood poured out. But my whole family rushed to my screaming sister. No one even glanced at me. I lay on the cold floor as my vision blurred and my consciousness began to fade. To them, my sister's feelings were the only emergency. My small injury could wait. They did not know that bleeding inside the skull does not wait.