Calmly Antonyms Novels & Stories

In the three years since I became Zander's mate, I've tried to kill myself ninety-nine times. Kidnapped by a rival pack in my youth, years of torture nearly destroyed me. I clawed my way back to the Crescent Moon Pack, only to find my place had been taken by an adopted daughter, Vivian. My Beta parents doted on her, and my fated mate—the Alpha himself—had eyes only for her. I begged them, told them my kidnapping and my suicide attempts weren't accidents, but all I ever heard was: "Ember, you're delusional. You just wandered off and got lost." "You tried to drown yourself in the river." The people closest to me, and not one of them believed me. Until the ninety-ninth time. Another "suicide." When I woke up three days later, I rubbed my aching head. My eyes were vacant, my own gaze foreign to me. I had forgotten who I was, forgotten the humiliation I'd endured, forgotten the desperate girl who had thrown away her dignity for a scrap of her Alpha's affection. At the pack ceremony, while everyone waited for me to fawn pathetically over Zander, a single tear slid down my cheek for reasons I couldn't comprehend. I wiped it away and, under the shocked stares of the entire pack, announced calmly: "Zander," my voice was steady. "I don't love you anymore. So I, Ember of the Crescent Moon Pack, hereby reject you as my mate." "This little act again?" Zander sneered, his eyes glinting with the same casual contempt they always held for me. But he didn't know. This time, I was leaving him for good. It wasn't until I vanished completely that the ones who'd never believed me were the ones who truly went mad.

At twenty-eight, I held the dubious honor of being the last unmarried socialite on New York's Upper East Side. Everyone around me was growing increasingly anxious about my single status. In my previous life, my mother arranged a matchmaking cocktail party, where I was told to choose a husband from ten handpicked elite bachelors. I bribed the event planner to place Mark West's profile at the very top—and as I had hoped, I chose him. After we married, Mark treated me with what seemed like tender affection. He even bought me an oceanfront villa in the Hamptons, making me believe I had finally found true love. But that illusion shattered the day I was nine months pregnant, just hours away from giving birth. Mark drove a scalpel straight into my abdomen—then, right in front of me, hurled our newborn onto the floor. "If you hadn't forced me into this marriage with your family's power, Sofia wouldn't have been heartbroken enough to go drinking and get drugged and assaulted. This… this is what you owe her!" He tossed the scalpel aside, then calmly let his private doctor pin down my blood-soaked body. I fought through excruciating pain for six agonizing hours, until I finally bled to death. Afterward, Mark dumped my corpse into the Hudson River. But for Sofia, he hosted a grand funeral—funded with my money, under my name—and paraded himself to the world as a grieving, devoted widower. Given a second chance at life, I refused to step foot in that cursed matchmaking event. Instead, I went straight to my mother with a demand: marry me to Robert Black—the most ruthless, cold-blooded titan of Wall Street, whose scarred face was feared by all. In the end, stripped of my financial backing, Mark's hedge fund collapsed. He became a disgraced fraudster, spat on by everyone on Wall Street.

They were already married for three years when Alpha Damian Zeus’s long-lost first love, Lily, returned bringing along a five-year-old pup. Luna Ariana Volkstane slid the formal rejection request across the table. "Let's end this bond. It's better for you, me, and your first love." He just smirked. "You want me to reject you? You think you can break our bond that easily?" So she did. Ariana cut ties with him completely, poured herself into her career, and rose to global fame as a legendary healer, her knowledge of rare herbs, wolf anatomy, and ancient magic sought after across continents. The powerful suitors lined up. The Alpha of an overseas empire whispered, "Ariana, hurry up and perform the severing ritual. I can't wait to claim you." A powerful pack leader vowed, "I'll be there with you the day you break the bond." A legendary wolf attorney promised, "I'll handle your rejection case with the pack council myself." Ariana just rubbed her temples. It's not that she didn't want the split, she wanted it more than anything, it's just that the Alpha she was mated to refused to let go. Finally, she announced, "Whoever can officially get me rejected, I'll put you at the head table of my bond-breaking celebration." Not long after, Alpha Damian was served the official rejection request right in the middle of an emergency pack council meeting. That same afternoon, he was attacked by rogues at the gates of his own territory. When Ariana showed up at the pack infirmary with healing herbs, she repeated calmly, "Let's sever the mate bond. It's better for you, me, and everyone else." But the cold, untouchable Alpha pulled her into his arms, his eyes blood-red with fury. "You want me to reject you? Over my dead body."

Eli Ashcroft is an Omega whose scent is so faint it is almost nonexistent. His first mate, Elric, betrays him by cheating with Eli’s own Omega best friend, Liam. The double betrayal destroys their bond, shatters Eli’s trust, and leaves him emotionally numb just as his father becomes gravely ill and medical bills begin to suffocate him. With no other choice left, Eli accepts an absurd solution: a contract marriage. His husband is Lucen Blackthorne, the most powerful and feared Alpha in the region. To the pack, the reason for Lucen’s choice is cruelly obvious. Eli bears an uncanny resemblance to his late older brother, Elion, the Omega rumored to be Lucen’s lost mate. The contract is mercilessly clear—three years as a substitute to stabilize Lucen’s unstable wolf, generous payment, then a clean separation with nothing owed. For three years, Eli survives by erasing himself. He suppresses his scent, mimics his brother’s habits, believing imitation is the only reason he is tolerated. When Lucen’s wolf writhes under grief, Eli comforts it quietly, never expecting affection meant for him. Lucen shields him during full moons and touches him with restrained care, yet his golden eyes always seem to look past Eli, searching for someone else. That silent distance hurts more than betrayal ever did. When the contract ends, Eli returns it calmly and prepares to leave, telling Lucen he is finally free. He expects indifference. Instead, Lucen’s control snaps. Alpha pheromones crash down as Lucen tears the contract apart and pulls Eli into his arms, his wolf roaring through his voice as his fangs brush Eli’s nape. “Leave?” Lucen growls softly. “My little wolf… your scent has soaked into my den for three years. And now you want to run? Too late.”

On the seventh year after we moved overseas, my 13-year-old daughter, Anna Jackman, is hailed as the internationally renowned piano prodigy. No matter how difficult the song is, Anna is capable of weaving beautiful melodies with it. But there's only one song that Anna refuses to play. It's a seemingly ordinary lullaby. She's worried that she might end up forgiving that despicable man again once she plays it on the piano. So, when said man, Micah Jackman, turns up on our doorstep with a piano that's handcrafted by a master craftsman and asks Anna to play him the lullaby, she just shakes her head calmly in return. "I don't know how to play that song, sir." Micah's eyes redden immediately. He grabs Anna's hand and navigates it to the piano keys. "That's impossible! Aren't you a piano prodigy, Anna? Haven't you always wanted to have a piano of your own? I've already bought you your own piano this time! From now on, if you have any wishes, you should tell me, and I'll grant them for you." Anna draws back her right hand coldly. "It's fine, sir. I can earn my own money to buy my own piano. You should take the piano back to your daughter." Micah feels as though his heart has plunged into the abyss. He immediately pulls Anna into his arms. "What are you talking about, Anna? You're my only daughter!" But Anna looks a little puzzled. "Didn't you say that Ms. Sinclair's daughter is the only one worthy of becoming your child? Didn't you give the piano you promised for me to Ms. Sinclair's daughter?" Having reached that point, Anna just smiles nonchalantly at Micah. "It's fine, sir. Since you like Ms. Sinclair, you can just raise her daughter. I'm already content enough with Mom by my side."

Ten years with Don Maximus. I went from the crazy girl who demanded his "undying loyalty" at gunpoint to Chicago's perfect Donna. When Maximus took the casino's hottest stripper to his private room, I didn't lose my mind. Instead, I tossed the woman the keys to a Manhattan penthouse. When Maximus's new flame threw a tantrum at a yacht party, I didn't bat an eye. Instead, after she slapped a waiter in a fit of pique, I made the police problem go away. When Maximus fought with one of his girls, I'd even send her a limited-edition Birkin to smooth things over. And today, Maximus is busy fucking his hot new toy in the study, while another pregnant mistress stands on the estate's rooftop, threatening to jump just to see him. And I'm still the one in my red-bottom heels, calmly going to clean up his mess. The mistress screamed, desperate. "I'm not having this baby! Get Maximus!" I took a sip of my wine, my voice bored. "He's busy today. You have the baby, and I'll make sure seven figures show up in your offshore account." My indifference set her off. She grabbed my wrist, her grip like iron. "You're pathetic, Angelina! There was a time he wouldn't even look at another woman because of you. He slaughtered an entire family for you. When you were shot, he knelt in the pouring rain outside a church, begging God to take his life for yours! But now? You can't even get into his bed. All you can do is stand here and play the gracious Donna!" Her nails left red marks on my skin, but the smile on my face didn't crack. Did she really think a little drama would change anything? I wasn't playing the gracious Donna. I was just done. And I was finally ready to let Maximus go.

Adele has been married for 10 years, being a full-time, dutiful wife and mother who sacrified her life and career for her family. But in return, their 7-year- old son, Ethan, suddenly began to despise her. “You make me sick, I wish Aunt Julia was my mother. I'm embarrassed to call you my mother, bitch!” Ethan barked. Adele was humiliated, shamed, and dragged by the public and Julia, who stole her design, yet her husband, Ryan, bowed to them and apologized. “I'm sorry, my wife has been stressed lately. Being a full-time housewife, she has no idea what the world is like. Please don't hold her accountable for this.” He turned to Julia, “Can you forgive her for crashing your daughter's birthday? I'm sure she didn't mean to. I agree, she's mentally unstable.” Adele was left reeling from heartbreak after heartbreak. She had never imagined that one day both her husband and son would choose someone else over her. Tired of trying to mend a broken relationship, she calmly finalized the divorce and even gave up custody of her son, but would Ryan let her enjoy freedom and peace, just like that? Adele soon found out that divorcing a prominent CEO who has so much power and influence than she was made aware, was no joke. God on her side, she got into a marriage contract with a bigger monster. But this monster and his 7-year-old daughter worshipped the ground she walked on. Adele rose from ashes: a net worth of over a 100 billion, one of the most influential women in the country, and a happy wife and stepmother. And now, her ex-husband and son wants her back and would do anything! But come on, the ship has sailed! However, it seems there are secrets to unravel...

I was born in the slums with nothing to my name, yet somehow, I once saved the most dangerous man in all of Sicile. In a crumbling shack, I treated his wounds while he patched the leaks in my roof whenever it rained. Later, he pulled me out of that miserable life and brought me into the heavily guarded estate of a mafia family. Together, we even had a son. However, seven years had passed, and he still had never publicly acknowledged either our child or me, all because my background was too lowly. Gabriele Carlos once told me that as long as our son proved himself exceptional enough, the family would eventually accept him. So even at only seven years old, my son pushed himself desperately hard to study languages, etiquette, and even firearms training. On his birthday, he was burning with fever, his little face pale, yet he still came out as the top student in his grade. Holding his award certificate tightly in his hands, his eyes shone brighter than I had ever seen. “Ma, Papa’s finally going to acknowledge me this time, isn’t he?” So, I took the certificate and went to look for Gabriele at his residence. However, through the heavy doors, I overheard him discussing a wedding with the daughter of another mafia family. They talked about the wedding date, the alliance between their families, and how the territories and profits would be divided afterward. Then, someone suddenly asked, “What about her and the child?” After a brief silence, Gabriele answered calmly, “Just keep them hidden.” Those words struck me hard. So the seven years my son and I had spent waiting meant nothing at all. We had only been fooling ourselves, believing things would change. Well, Gabriele might want us hidden, but unfortunately for him, I was done hiding.

The day I found out I was pregnant with twins, I saw my mate, Alpha Viggo, bringing another she-wolf to her prenatal check-up. I froze on the spot, the pregnancy report crumpling in my fist. That night, he looked at me with ice in his eyes. The same man who once kissed every inch of my body. The same man who swore he was mine and mine alone. “She’s carrying my pup. Her wolf is unstable. You will brew her calming tonics. Every single day.” “She's sensitive. She can't sleep without my scent. So move your things to the west wing. Make room for her.” The huge villa fell deathly silent. My wolf howled—a sharp, wounded cry. Pain from our mate bond ripped through my soul. But I didn't shed a single tear. I just calmly grabbed the suitcase I’d already packed and walked toward the door. The guards tried to stop me, but Viggo didn’t even glance up. “She’ll be back,” he said, swirling the wine in his glass, his Alpha arrogance on full display. “Three days. That’s all she’ll last. Her wolf will drive her mad without my touch. She’ll come crawling back, begging.” The pack members and allies who had come for our ceremony erupted in laughter. A few of them even made a bet right in front of me, wagering a million-dollar aurora ore mine. They bet I’d be torn apart by the fear of going rogue and be on my knees by midnight, begging Viggo to let me back in. But they had no idea. My birth father had already secretly sent our family token. My pack was already waiting. This time, I would shatter our bond for good.

In my past life, Killian cut off all his mistresses and spoiled me rotten, doing everything to win my hand in marriage. But the day before our wedding, I overheard him boasting to his friends. "Killian, that orphan girl you supported is still clinging to you. She's younger and prettier than your fiancée. Are you really not tempted?" Killian curled his lip in disdain, "What is she even? She isn't even fit to lick my wife's toes. Tell her to get lost." His words sent a rush of euphoria through me. He had told me himself that financing Vivienne Moore was merely a strategic move to bolster my charity foundation. At that moment, I truly believed I had found my happily ever after. But on the wedding day, the orphan girl drove her car straight into me. She sobbed and pulled out a terminal diagnosis. "Killian, I don't have much time left. I beg you. Don't abandon me, please!" I got injured in a collision and pleaded with Killian to take me to the hospital first, but he scooped her up in his arms without a second glance. "Sierra, I need to take Vivienne abroad for medical treatment. If I were her husband, it would be way easier for me to get stuff done. We have to get a divorce first. I’m sorry.” I stared at him, my eyes widening in sheer shock. He kept going, his voice stead, “I promise I'll come back and marry you in five years. Just wait for me.” Five years turned into ten, and I waited for him in vain, nothing more than a fool. It wasn't until I was on my deathbed that I received his letter, "I'm sorry, Sierra. I'll marry you in the next life." I tore the letter to shreds and died of sheer rage. Yet, when I opened my eyes again, I was back on my wedding day. I calmly gazed after Killian as they faded into the throng. Then, without hesitation, I turned around and boarded a plane to Switzerland.