Bond

The day my parents severed their mate bond, my sister and I had to choose. One of us would go with our father—the Alpha who'd gambled away every inch of pack territory in underground wolf fights. The other would go with our mother, who was marrying Alaric, the most powerful Alpha in the werewolf world. In my past life, my sister fought to go with our mother. I stayed behind with our father in silence. Later, our father rebuilt himself. His territory grew tenfold. He became one of the strongest Alphas, and I was his most beloved daughter. But my sister provoked the tyrant Alpha Alaric, was banished from his territory, and was torn apart by rogues. After rebirth, my sister didn't hesitate. She dropped her packed bags and clung to our father, sobbing: "Daddy, I can't leave you. Let my sister go live the good life with Mom. I'll stay with you." Our father's eyes softened with emotion. He looked at me quietly packing my things, and his voice turned cold: "Get out. You're just like your mother—a gold-digging bitch." I didn't argue. I left in silence. In my past life, I fought thousands of battles in underground wolf pits for him. My wolf nearly died countless times. My body was covered in scars. I won back his territory piece by piece. Only then did he wake up, pull himself together, and become a powerful Alpha again. But my wolf had been shattered beyond repair. On the verge of death, my wolf burned the last spark of her life to reverse time. But she couldn't reverse her own decay. This time around, all I wanted was to find a place with no fighting and sit in the sun for a while.

In my previous life, my three sons told me they wanted to set up a Family Bond Fund for me. Each of them would deposit three thousand dollars every month. I cried with gratitude, truly believing that decades of sacrifice had finally paid off. One of them even said, "Mom, you've given us so much. It's our turn to take care of you now." However, eight years later, I was told I have uremia. That was when I discover that the bank card, which supposedly held the fund, couldn't even cover the dialysis deposit. Soon after, my eldest son video-called me. He said he wanted to buy a better apartment in a good school district. He was short of 150 thousand dollars for the down payment and asked if I could lend it to him first. My second son came to the hospital with his wife and daughter. He didn't ask about my condition at all. Instead, he kept showing off his daughter's piano competition trophy, hinting that he needed 50 thousand dollars to enroll her in a prestigious international piano program. My youngest son was even more straightforward. He said he had his eye on a limited-edition pair of sneakers and wanted me to pay 30 thousand dollars for them as a birthday gift. The moment they realized the bank account didn't have enough money, their faces fell. "We each put in three thousand dollars every month. Over eight years, that's at least eight hundred thousand dollars. Mom, are you hiding the money from us?" To force me to reveal my savings, they took turns pressuring me, switching between sweet talk and threats. They even told relatives that I had dementia and had been scammed out of my money. Unable to take it anymore, I yanked out my IV late one night and walked out of the hospital, only to be hit by a car, dying instantly. When I open my eyes again, I find myself back on the day of my hospital checkup.

THIS STORY CONTAINS EXPLICIT SEX SCENES. READER DISCRETION ADVISED. I Was Never Yours is an emotional romance story about love, power, and emotional survival in a world where affection can feel like control. Amara once believed in love with her whole heart. She believed in promises made under soft lights, in quiet conversations that felt like forever, and in a future she thought was guaranteed by a man who made her feel deeply chosen, until he didn’t. Julian is a man shaped by control, success, and emotional distance. To him, vulnerability is weakness, and love is something he can manage rather than surrender to. Years ago, Amara and Julian shared something intense but undefined, a relationship built on emotional closeness without public labels or clear promises. It was passionate, quiet, and dangerously addictive in its secrecy. Then Julian walked away without explanation. Not with betrayal. Not with arguments. Just silence. Years later, fate forces them back into each other’s world when Amara becomes an employee in his powerful company. But time has changed everything. The girl who once waited quietly is gone. In her place stands a woman who understands emotional survival, boundaries, and self-worth. Now the power has shifted. Julian wants her back, not just as a lover, but as someone he can emotionally possess again. He begins careful, strategic moves to stay close to her, protect her, and slowly pull her back into his emotional orbit. But Amara has learned something dangerous from heartbreak. She can love him… but she refuses to belong to him. As emotions resurface, both must confront healing, obsession, pride, and the question of whether love is about holding on or choosing each other again every day.

I was in love with Andy Spraggins for five years, and it left me emotionally drained. In the end, I married Philip Watson, the childhood friend who had always stayed by my side. Everyone saw us as the perfect couple. We even had a sweet little boy together. I thought he was the light that had always been there for me. But one day, I unlocked his old phone. [If you come back, I'll divorce her right away. [You've always been the one I loved.] So it turned out that what I thought was true love was just a joke. I was nothing more than a stand-in, something to pass the time. Even my own son seemed to prefer her. So I cut all ties and walked away without hesitation. But then the father and son both panicked. "Babe, can you please not leave?" "Mommy, please don't go…"

I am Selene Moore, the fiancee of Callum Lowe, the Alpha of the Shadow Wolf pack. I am bound by a subservient love for six long years. Those werewolves back in the pack despise me, deeming me unfit to be the Luna of their pack. Callum, on the other hand, insists that I must smooth out my willful personality before proceeding with the bonding ceremony. Grandpa has been poisoned with wolfsbane and is dying, and the antidote he needs is one I can't afford. I approach Callum for help, but he dismisses me with accusations that I exploited the situation for attention. He therefore allows Natalie Anderson, his childhood friend, and her cronies to torment me. I repeatedly suffer their abuse in a desperate attempt to pay for Grandpa's treatment. In the end, Grandpa dies from poisoning, dying in despair. I become the docile woman Callum desired after Grandpa's death, and I cease my pursuit of him. I have also stopped loving him. Yet now, when the truth is laid bare, Callum seems to be filled with regret.

In order to find clean water for his beloved Liana Hughes to bathe, Castiel Fenton, my brother, left the base with all the able-bodied men. But among the zombies, a sentient Zombie King emerged and took it as an opportunity to invade the base. June Morgan, my pregnant sister-in-law, was torn in half by zombies while protecting me, and Poppy, my little niece was devoured down to the bone trying to help me escape. To save the base, I called Castiel for help. Upon hearing the news, he had no choice but to abandon Liana and rush back with his men. Eventually, the zombies were driven out of the base, but Liana was eaten by a passing zombie. Castiel said nothing and only collected Liana’s remains expressionlessly. On the day of Liana’s funeral, Castiel deliberately pushed me into a horde of zombies and let them feast on my body. “If you hadn’t called me back, Liana wouldn’t have died! You must pay for her life!” When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day the zombies invaded the base.

My twin sister, Ruby Stone, and I split up after our parents' divorce. She stays with Mom, while I went with Dad. Since the divorce, he's sunk into a deep depression, gambling away every penny we have. We move into a dark, damp apartment, and life becomes an endless struggle. Every day, I go to school and quietly work a part-time job to keep us afloat. Then, out of nowhere, Ruby—whom I haven't heard from in forever—sends me a link to a live stream. "Check this out, Aria. There's a surprise waiting for you." I click it, and my jaw drops. I'm the one topping the trending live streams. The screen splits in two. On one side, I sit in my dingy apartment, hunched over homework under the dim light. On the other side, Mom and Dad cuddle with Ruby on the fancy couch of their sprawling villa. The comments came pouring in. "Let's see what happens when twins are raised on opposite sides of fortune all the way to 18." "Aria still doesn't know, right? Her parents never divorced. They're loaded and perfectly happy. Ruby's life has been like a dream too." "Poor Aria. She's always starving and never has anything decent to wear. Isn't that basically abuse?" "She's the more sensible one, so her parents decided to raise her poorly."

My father died of esophageal cancer. For the final two years of his life, he could barely swallow anything. By the time he passed, he was nothing but skin and bones. The first New Year after his death, he came to my mother in a dream. "I'm starving," he said. "I just want to taste the thick-cut steak you used to make." My mother believed it without question. That very day, she pan-seared a large platter of steak and carried it to his grave. The next morning, she suffered a sudden heart attack and died on the spot. Devastated, I handled my mother's funeral together with my husband. That same night, my husband dreamed of my father as well. "Chester," he said, "I haven't eaten in so long. I want your pâté, served with some strong liquor." When my husband woke up, he bought the finest liver pâté, opened a bottle of single-malt whiskey, and went straight to the grave. However, not long after returning home, he collapsed from acute liver failure. He was rushed to the ICU and died three days later. I was on the brink of collapse myself. I left my daughter in the care of a close friend while I tried to handle the endless wave of tragedy. That evening, my daughter never came home from school. I searched everywhere, and finally, on the road to the cemetery, I found her. She was clutching a bowl of spicy stew, several grilled sausages floating in the broth. "Mom," she said, "Grandpa and I used to eat this all the time. I dreamed he said he was hungry." I finally lost it. I knocked the bowl from her hands and carried her home. That night, my father appeared in my dream once more. "I suffered so much while alive," he said. "Have some pity on me. "New Year's is coming. I want to come home for a meal. Make sure you cook fish." I woke in terror. Holding my daughter, I sat before the three framed portraits for two full days without eating or drinking. On New Year's morning, I realized she was no longer breathing. Clutched tightly in her hand was a packet of spicy dried salmon. I could not believe it. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my mother, her eyes red with worry, said she was going out to buy steak.

I was the real son of the Lane family, lost and left outside for 27 years. A year after I was brought back, I helped the Lane family’s company break into overseas markets, tripling its annual sales. However, at the end of the year, even the outsourced janitors got a 13th-month bonus, while the fake heir gave me just 250 dollars. “The company made money, sure, but there are expenses everywhere. You’re just a low-level salesperson. All you do is talk. You should be grateful you got that much.” I could not swallow it, so I went to argue with my biological sister, the general manager. She did not even look up. “Clive didn’t do anything wrong. You don’t have much education and no core skills. You were never qualified for management bonuses.” My parents did not care either. They were too busy planning which country to take the fake heir to for the holidays. I did not argue or make a scene. I just turned around and called Lane Corporation’s biggest rival. “A salesperson who brought in 30 million dollars in the last year is looking to jump ship. Interested? I don’t have any other demands. I just want to see Lewis Corporation go under as soon as possible!”

After my mother shot down my pleas to cover my medical bills the 100th time, I clutched my bone cancer diagnosis papers and trudged to the crematorium. "Hi, I'd like to reserve a cremation slot ahead of time," I muttered to the clerk. Half an hour ticked by before my parents and adopted brother arrived in their car. My dad, a forensic pathologist, cracked me across the face. "You're pulling a fake-death stunt now, just to steal the spotlight from your brother?" My mom, a hospital director, snatched the papers from my hands and shredded them into confetti. "Faking records using my credentials and tying up hospital resources? You've crossed the line!" My brother cried, tugging at their sleeves. "It's all my fault. I'll skip the amusement park forever. I don't need a thing. Just quit riling up Mom and Dad." I spun around, my hand pressed against my throbbing chest, and begged the crematorium staff. "Please, when it's time, cremate me and scatter the ashes in the river. I've got no family left in this world."