Body Flicker Novels & Stories

"I Logan Lee Parker, Alpha of the Silver river pack........reject you, Elena Almeria Knight. You're not worthy to be my wife" Logan's deep baritone declares. Everyone present gasp in disbelief, some laughs with scornful gazes and smirks. Elena felt her whole world coming to an end, now she really wished the floor would open and take her in. Her chest constricted and her heart shattered to pieces. Was she dreaming? It can't be true? She thought to herself staring deeply at Logan. She had waited for this day, only to be rejected. 'Logan, why?' she mindlinked him as her eyes blurred with tears. But instead, he stared at her with an emotionless gaze. With no ounce of remorse or any type of guilt in his eyes. Just when she thought there was a flicker of remorse or pity in his eyes and her heart leaped a little in hope, he looked away. Darting his gaze behind Elena, she was forced to look back, to know what got his attention. Her eyes widened in shock as her once fated mate declare and chose her cousin as his mate. Lisa glared at her and her lips tilted into a victory smirk. Everything came running in her mind in a blur, she didn't want to believe it. The rejection, the pain, it was hurting and Logan didn't seem to care at all. He cheated on her and she forgave him and still, he chose her cousin and broke their bond. Trying her best to contemplate all that just happened, internalizing everything to come back to the reality- she wasn't dreaming. Ivana gets angry and when she takes over, her eyes changes to Ivana's gold ones and in a blink of an eye- she vanished from the pack.

Living with my aunt and her family was meant to be a temporary, quiet arrangement just helping out and keeping to myself. On the first day of the new year, while everyone else was out celebrating, I stayed home, enjoying the rare silence and catching up on sleep. But when we ran out of water, I reluctantly stepped outside to fetch some, and that’s when I saw him. He stood by the gate of the house next door, effortlessly commanding attention with just a glance. A smirk played on his lips, and a flicker of amusement danced in his eyes behind his blue-ray glasses. At that moment, he was impossible to ignore. Meanwhile, I felt disheveled and barely awake, my hair was a mess and still shaking off sleep. But he didn’t seem to mind. There was something about him an air of mystery that made me wonder who he was and why he was there. Before I could look away, he spoke, “Hi.” Caught off guard, I managed a quick, “Hi,” while trying to pull myself together. “Can I know your name?” he asked. I hesitated but replied, “I’m Clara,” and kept walking. “Can I have your number?” he called after me. “Just as friends.” I almost refused but reluctantly agreed, entering my number into his phone. “There,” I said, handing it back. “I’ll call you,” he promised with a smile, as I turned to leave. What began as a chance encounter soon became an inexplicable connection. He had secrets, but there was something about him that saw through me, understanding things no one else did. The man I met next door wasn’t just a fleeting stranger,he became the reason I started questioning everything I thought I wanted.

When my best friend died, his wife, Mia Lewis, was eight months pregnant. Mia said she didn't want her baby growing up without a father. I owed my best friend my life. He saved me, literally pulled me from death's door. So I stepped up, marrying Mia and raising their son as my own. Mia loved her career, so I quit mine. Traded my job for diapers and school runs. For seven whole years, I cooked, cleaned, folded laundry, and handled the housework. Rain or shine, sickness or health, I was there—every single day. Mia, though? She stayed cold, distant. Her warmth only surfaced in the bedroom—and even then, it was a flicker, never a flame. Just soft sighs and breathy murmurs, like she was playing a role she couldn't wait to finish. Afterward, she would quietly check the condom, as if she couldn't trust me. Then came New Year's Eve. A snap. A tear. A broken condom. Her fury struck like a thunderclap. She locked me out on the balcony, left me standing in the freezing rain, soaked to the bone as the wind howled like a wounded beast. Teeth chattering, I shivered as I watched the door like a dog, waiting to be let in. Then I saw him. Our boy, Ethan Bailey. Six years old. My son, at least in name. He came running with an umbrella in his hand. For a second, my heart leapt. 'Maybe, just maybe…' But he didn't even look at me. Just walked past in silence and handed the umbrella to the nanny heading out. Right then and there, something inside me cracked. I knew it was time to go.

As one of London's premier wedding planners, I have spent my career orchestrating "perfect moments" for others, yet I never seemed to find my own. The ballroom at Claridge's was bathed in an opulent glow for my best friend Stella's wedding. The bridal bouquet sailed over the crowd. It brushed a young woman's fingertips, bounced once, and landed squarely in my arms. In an instant, half of London's high society turned toward Ryan. "Proposal! Proposal!" the crowd chanted over the rhythmic clink of champagne flutes. "Ryan, a sign like that is rare. Looks like we should prepare for the next big party!" Ryan was nudged forward by the crowd. In his charcoal Savile Row suit, he still managed to look detached, as if the noise had nothing to do with him. As I held the flowers, the lingering scent of fresh roses filled the air. For one ridiculous second, I even wondered whether I should warn him not to crease his trousers if he knelt. But he only smiled. Then, with practised ease, he took the bouquet from my arms. Without the slightest hesitation, he turned and handed it to his assistant, Emily, who was standing nearby. "She touched it first," he said, ruffling my hair with the same flawless tenderness I had endured for eight years. "Be good, Claire. Let's wait for the right time." The attention followed the flowers as they moved away. I caught the flicker of triumph in Emily's eyes and quickly looked down, tracing the intricate patterns of the carpet while forcing a perfectly poised smile. Ryan lived by schedules and efficiency, yet he never understood one simple truth: some chances, once missed, don't come with a "next time". My own wedding is next Saturday. And he has been officially struck from the guest list.

I was born broken. My Alpha mother was the one who branded me. She said emotion was a sin. A weakness. Especially for a werewolf. Especially for an Alpha’s heir. The day we were born, she clamped emotion-suppressing collars around our necks. Mine and my twin sister's. The slightest flicker of emotion, and the collar flashed red. My mother would then push the button, injecting me with a diluted "silver solution" to suppress my feelings. But my sister Cassia's collar? Always a calm, steady blue. Even when she shattered Mom's precious moonstone, it just pulsed gently. And me? I’d just whisper, "Mom, the thunder scares me," and my collar would erupt in a violent red. Then came the sting of silver poison burning through my blood.. I used to argue. But Mom always said the same thing. "The data doesn't lie. Pain is a teacher. This is for your own good." After thousands of these injections, I started to believe it, too. That I was born out of control. The night of the alliance's Moon Goddess Festival, Mom was taking my sister to the rooftop party. Something scared me during the day. The collar flashed red, and my mother started the punishment. But this time, the collar malfunctioned. It shot a dose a thousand times stronger into my neck. I collapsed on the carpet, begging, "Mother, the collar... it hurts so much... help me." My collar was flashing a frantic red. My mother just looked down at me, drenched in a cold sweat, and pressed the button for the maximum dose. "You'd lose control like this just for attention? You're a lost cause." She turned, took my sister, and slammed the door. I couldn't help but think, Mom must be right. The collar is red. It doesn't really hurt. I'm just being dramatic, looking for pity again. I'm sorry, Mom. In my next life, I'll be the perfect daughter you always wanted.

This book Contains Steamy contents strictly R18+ She wanted him, Elena yearns for him, as her hands slid through his hard toned body down to his brief, Elena wanted nothing but to have Roth hot and deep inside her, taking her with him to that secret place, where she could freely cry out from sheer pleasure. But Roth rejected her, she was young, naive, he did not want to take it too quick. Ten years later, Roth realized how mistaken he had been, Elena was no longer the naive, young sixteen years old girl anymore, this woman standing before him was an epitome of beauty, mature, irresistible, his body responded vigorously at the sight of her. His Shaft twitch at the sight of this woman. He wanted her! He yearns for Elena Bennett.

Sofia believed that love meant sacrifice. She gave her heart, her body, and even her future to the man she married. But the day she gave birth—bleeding, terrified, begging for help—she realized love was never supposed to hurt like this. Her baby was taken. Her cries were ignored. Her body felt like it was dying, and the only person who was supposed to protect her stood across the room… with another woman in his arms. Her mother-in-law tried to strangle her. Her husband told her to pack up or find her own way home—like she was nothing. But Sofia isn’t done. Not yet. She may be broken. She may be grieving. But she’s still breathing. And now, she has nothing left to lose.

The Velvet Pact In the golden shadow of forbidden salons, Eva, poor and invisible, unwittingly attracts the gaze of two predators. Sasha and Niko Volkov, twins of breathtaking beauty and heirs to a ruthless empire, see in her the perfect prey for a perverse game. Their offer is not a mere transaction, but a corrupted pact sealed in velvet and money: an obscene fortune in exchange for her innocence. But the price is darker than it seems. She must give herself to one of the brothers, body and soul, under the possessive and burning gaze of the other. What begins as a sale becomes a dizzying fall into the depths of desire and jealousy. Trapped in this forbidden triangle, Eva discovers that her body can be a weapon and that submission can hide an unsuspected power. In this labyrinth of pleasure and domination, the true trial will not be to choose her master, but to survive the consuming obsession she ignites in them… and in herself.

Katrina Jones is an epitome of beauty. Sexy with fair complexion of skin and curly hair. Is she willing to trade her body in return of money? Chris Gray is undeniably handsome. He is known as ruthless and arrogant. Will he be a soft-hearted man when it comes to love?

Waking up in the wrong body is terrifying. Waking up with two wolves inside you? That’s a war waiting to happen. Burned at the stake for a crime she didn’t commit, Luna Aria Campbell of the MoonClaw Pack thought death would be the end. But fate had other plans. She awakens in the body of Keira, Luna of the rival StarCross Pack — a woman whose wolf, Zie, is very much alive and very much out for blood. Zie believes Aria’s soul is the product of Black Magic—and she’s ready to tear her apart from the inside out, but she starts off by suffocating Aria's wolf, Lyra. Aria is desperate to survive — not just for herself, but for Lyra. But Zie offers her only one chance at coexistence: Kill Alpha Jaxon — Keira’s fated mate.