Burned Out Book Novels & Stories

After being Conan Stone’s secretary and girlfriend for seven years, he was going to be engaged to someone else. Ninian Springs was dejected. She was going to resign, but he decided to cancel the engagement in public. During the auction, just when everyone thought that Conan was going to propose to Ninian, his crush showed up. When everyone saw that Ninian had the exact same face as Conan’s crush, they began to whisper. At that moment, Ninian finally realized: she was just a replacement.

I am the youngest daughter of the White family. As rulers of the Moon Shadow pack, the White family showered me with love from the young age. That was until my brothers brought home an orphaned Omega named Calista. In less than a month, she had stolen all the affection that once belonged to me. All it took was a slight frown from me when she tried to move into my bedroom, and my eldest brother, the Alpha, slapped me on the face. My second brother, the Beta, locked me in the cellar. I never wanted to compete with Calista. All I wanted was to live the rest of my days quietly. But on the day of my eighteenth birthday, Calista falsely accused me of attacking her when I shifted. My brothers called me evil, and they cut all ties with me. They believed that I was spoiled rotten and that my jealousy of Calista had made me turn vicious. Little did they know that I had already secretly applied to be the guard of the Land of Winter and to live there in solitude for 20 years. After this farewell, I would never see them again. On the day that I left, they all broke down in regret.

Five months pregnant, I watched my fated mate’s foster sister pour oil on our sacred threshold and strike the spark. I didn’t reach for the pack-link. Last life, I screamed through our bond. Cassian—my Alpha, the wolf I’d followed since I was six—came for me. Pulled me from the flames while his foster sister burned to charcoal behind us. He said nothing against me, even arranged the best care for my pregnancy. But on the fourth night after our daughter was born, he dragged us to the Blood Moon altar. He stood upon the High Rock, silver fur gleaming in the dark, and gave the order. His enforcers pinned me to the stone. He watched, silent and still, as they lit the pyre beneath our daughter’s body first—then mine. "You let Eira burn," he said, while the flames devoured us. "So you burn with what you loved." When I opened my eyes, I was back on the floor of our burning den.

Zayn Ulrich and I have dated for seven years. However, when he's prosecuted and sent to prison, I leave him without hesitation. I turn to his best friend instead. Now, Zayn is out of prison. He rises from the ashes and uses every means possible to force me into marrying him. Everyone says he truly loves me, but no one knows the truth. Every night after our wedding, he brings different women into our bed, not even sparing my own sister. This is his punishment for my so-called betrayal. What he doesn't know is that I risked my life to clear his name—I willingly walked into a mafia hideout and traded one kidney and half my liver for the key evidence that saved him. Unfortunately, my time is running out.

After my older sister, Cecilia, and I hit adulthood, our parents dropped a bomb: one of us had to run the family business, the other had to marry into the Spencer family in Norwick City. Cecilia, blinded by greed, called dibs on the company without blinking. Problem was, she was all talk. Spent her days jet-setting and partying while the business tanked. Within a year, she'd burned it all to the ground. Me? I got the Spencer name and popped out two boys, locking in my spot as the rich wife. Cecilia couldn't handle it. Jealousy made her snap—she straight-up stabbed me at a family party. Next thing I knew, I was back on the day we had to choose. Cecilia didn't even pause. "I'll marry into the Spencer family. The business can go to Demi." I laughed. My poor, clueless sister—she had no idea she was walking straight into hell.

The day my mother brought her childhood sweetheart back to the villa, my father—who had already quit smoking—stood on the balcony and smoked through the entire night. Back then, his colleagues at the research institute all envied him for having a wife who was a CEO. They said he should have stayed home and enjoyed life—why work so hard outside when all he needed to do was keep a firm grip on the household finances? But my father never agreed. "Those things are all external," he would say. "As long as the feelings are still there, we'll be fine whether we're rich or poor. And if one day she no longer loves me, I'll leave with nothing and walk away alone." He never expected his words to become prophecy. My mother truly did stop loving him. Later, when she appeared before the media, arm in arm with that man, my father didn't look back. He boarded a flight overseas and disappeared from our lives. And as I stared at the photo in my social feed—my fiancée's hand entwined with someone else's—I knew it was time for me to leave too, just like my father had.

I don't inform Hunter Nabb when I'm bitten by a rabid dog in the late stages of my pregnancy. Instead, I call the police. Why? Because he got into an accident when he hurried to me in my past life. It killed his junior. He was depressed for a day but quickly bounced back. He cared for me until I recovered. I thought the rumors of amorosity between him and his junior was just a figment of my imagination. However, the day I gave birth, he locked me in a cage, allowing a rabid dog to attack me and the baby. He looked down at me imperiously, his tone cold and ruthless. "You can trick everyone, but not me. Would a dog have bitten you if you hadn't provoked it? Do you know you killed Willow with your dirty tricks? She was pregnant with my child when she died!" When I open my eyes again, I'm taken back to when the rabid dog bites me.

He straddled me, his hips swirling in slow, maddening circles. His body was right there, pressing into mine, and I couldn’t escape it; I didn’t want to. His hands found mine and guided them to his chest, and when my palms touched his warm skin, I was gone. My pulse was a blur of frantic beats pounding in my ears, drowning out the crowd's cheers and whistles. With his face inches from mine, Alec leaned in. His breath ghosted over my lips, his smile, cocky, knowing, playful, and somehow tender all at once. “You okay there?” he asked with an amused tone, and I opened my mouth, desperate to say something—anything—but nothing came out. My throat was dry, my skin was on fire and my mind was completely blank. All I could do was stare at him, completely mesmerized by how his body moved against mine and that wicked smirk on his lips. Before I knew it, heat pooled low in my belly, spreading downward, and I instinctively clenched my thighs together to stop the throbbing that ignited between my legs, but it was too late as I dampened the soft leather.

My mate bond with Alpha Ronan of the Blackthorne Pack had failed thirty-two times. I thought the Moon Goddess did not bless us. I thought if I endured a little longer, loved him a little harder, the next time would finally work. Until the thirty-third rite. Then the fire swallowed me whole. When I woke in the healers’ hall, my body was broken, my Moonborn Core was damaged. Only then did I hear Ronan speaking to his Beta outside the door. “If you love Selene that much, then sever the claim with Elara. The Blackthorne Pack can silence any rumor. Why keep staging accidents?” “She almost died,” his Beta said. “Ten years ago, the Alpha of Nightvale and his mate died saving me. This bond is how I repay that debt.” “I never wanted Nightvale’s bloodline chained to mine.” “The woman I love is Selene.” That was when I finally understood. The Moon Goddess had never rejected us. Ronan had. He saw my parents’ sacrifice as a chain around his neck. He saw Nightvale’s Moonborn bloodline as a cage built to trap him. And he would never know— the fire he arranged had already taken the child I carried. The true black-core heir Blackthorne had waited generations for. If Ronan hated this bond so much, I would give him what he wanted. I would sever the claim myself.

After failing a bomb disposal mission, my wife, who's also a bomb disposal expert, gives my shield to her true love. I grab her hand and plead with her not to do it, but she shoves me away. "You're so selfish! You have a system that can revive you—why do you even need the shield? Jeremy is already weak, to begin with. He can't handle any impact and needs two shields to keep him safe!" She doesn't know that the system has only given me two chances to be revived. I used the first chance when she begged me to save Jeremy Sawyer. During a mission last year, I used the second chance to save her from the brink of death. It looks like I'm going to die today.