Novel & Cerita Cellar Stories

He was trained to kill her kind, She grew up thinking she is human And now fate has bond them as mates. Rowan Hale enters Wyrmwood Academy with no powers, no wolf and no clue why she was invited to a Academy only wolf's attended. Malrik Alderfang the future Alpha of the most poweful pack, he is cold, cruel, and destined to lead, hehates her the moment he senses the bond.But his hate turns into obsession. And when her hidden magic starts to awaken, he’s the only one who feels it,he wants her gone, he needs her close, and he will ruin anyone who touches what’s his. But Rowan comes from a bloodline he was raised to kill, and if the truth comes out, the mate who kissed her like he owned her… Will be the one ordered to kill her.

Marchioness Harriet Goldlane, a talented noblewoman, made a deal with Old Duke Almandine. To save her younger brother, she was willing to become a substitute for Liam's 'mate', the grandson of the Old Duke. Liam was an Alpha whose 'mate' died long ago. He was severely injured and had been living without a heart for a long time. He could only wake up from his sleep when there was a full moon. The Old Duke and Liam himself guessed that the man would die soon due to his worsening condition. Because of that, Old Duke wanted Harriet to give birth to an heir to the Almandine Family from Liam's seed so that their family would have a new leader. The Alpha's replacement bride would soon find that she was in love with the dying man and now they both wished for a miracle to save Liam's life. Could she fulfill her duty to bear the next Alpha for the Almandines? Would Liam survive to protect his bride and family?

Everyone knew William had turned his back on the entire Jamison family for me. He refused the marriage alliance with the Wyndham family in public, and the Jamisons locked him up for it. He even lost his right to inherit. When they finally released him from the cellar, he collapsed into my arms, pale and shaking. "Stephy, even if I die, I will never marry anyone else." Later, the Jamisons relented. Since I could not have children, they agreed to let us be together on one condition: William had to give Elvira an heir. From that day on, he repeated the same words to me: "Just wait a little longer." The first time, I caught him and Elvira in bed with my own eyes and broke down on the spot. He held me and said, "Just wait. She'll be pregnant soon." The second time, after she safely gave birth to a daughter, he said, "Father still wants a grandson. Just wait a little longer." Hence, I kept waiting. I continued to serve Elvira. I saw the marks on her neck every day and said nothing. By the third spring, she finally gave birth to a son. I thought everything was finally over. But at the baby's one-month celebration, he suddenly went into allergic shock. Everyone decided I was responsible. William locked me in the cellar with his own hands. Then he looked at me with cold eyes and said, "Stephanie, no matter how desperate you were, you should never have hurt my child." At that moment, I finally understood how ridiculous I had been all those years. Thus, when the cellar door opened again, I called his father, Brent Jamison. "Didn't you always want me gone? Fine. I'll leave. But I'm leaving clean. And when I'm gone, William will never find me again."

My stepsister falsely accuses me of causing her allergies to act up. My three brothers stuff me into the cramped cellar and chain the door shut. I pound on the door and beg them to let me out. My eldest brother, an outstanding businessman, snaps, "It's bad enough that you keep bullying Lori. How could you make her eat seafood when you know she's allergic to it? Isn't that just murder? Stay in there and reflect on your mistakes!" My second brother, an award-winning singer, and my third brother, a genius painter, scoff contemptuously. "It's unbelievable that someone as evil as you is making excuses to garner pity. You can stay in there and repent for your sins!" After that, they take our shuddering stepsister to the hospital. The oxygen in the cellar soon runs out, and it gets difficult to breathe. Ultimately, I die in there. My brothers only remember me three days later when they bring our stepsister back from the hospital. Unbeknownst to them, I've already died of asphyxiation.

All because I opened a window to air out the room, my husband’s childhood sweetheart, Celine Ashcroft, caught a cold. In a fit of rage, my husband, Ronan Blackwood, had his men bind me and drag me down to the ice cellar despite my being five months pregnant. "Don’t think that just because you’re carrying my child, you can bully Celine. If even a single hair on her head is harmed, I’ll make you repay it a hundredfold!" Shivering violently from the cold, I knelt through tears, begging for forgiveness. I promised that from now on I would serve his precious sweetheart well to atone, that I would never again let her suffer even the slightest harm. He only gave a cold order to seal the cellar, saying I needed to be taught a lesson so it would be burned into my memory. A week later, when Celine finally recovered from her cold, he finally remembered me in the cellar. "Vesper, have you truly realized your mistake? As long as you agree to kneel and apologize to Celine immediately, I’ll spare you." What he didn’t know was that by then, I had already frozen stiff in that ice cellar. And the child he had treasured so dearly no longer showed even the faintest sign of life.

One week before our wedding, my fiancé, my father’s own consigliere, sold him out.He set him up for a FBI raid. My father died in a pool of blood, his eyes wide open, and the once-great Moretti family collapsed overnight. In my darkest hour, Dominic, the Don of the New York Luciani family, showed up with a crew of mercenaries. He didn't just take care of the rat; he gave me total protection. He obsessed over me for three years, even tattooing my name over his heart. I fell for it. I believed he loved me. I let my guard down and stayed by his side, serving as the lead perfumer for the coldest man in the city. Until today. Outside the wine cellar, I overheard him talking to his rival. "Old man Moretti died never knowing who had leaked his location," Dominic said. "But imagine if that stupid woman, Elena, found out," the rival mocked. "If she knew the man who killed her father was the same husband kissing her forehead every night... would she lose her mind?" My hand froze on the cellar door. The rival’s laughter came through the cracks: "You’re cold-blooded, Dominic! Elena thinks you’re her savior. She even wants to give you an heir. She’d never dream the raid that destroyed her life was actually your offering to Sienna."

Aria Laurent was supposed to be the ghost in the Devereaux estate—a convenient substitute for a sister who fled, a nameless bride in a house built on secrets. But in the cold, suffocating grip of Luca Devereaux’s world, being invisible is no longer an option. Bound by a forced marriage and watched by eyes that never blink, Aria must navigate power and silent threats. In this house, walls have ears, and the man she calls husband is a shadow she can’t escape. As the line between protection and possession blurs, Aria discovers that the darkest secrets aren’t hidden in the cellar, they’re reflected in the eyes of the man who owns her.

The day I went into labor with the twins, I bribed the family doctor to shoot me up with every heavy-duty suppressant he could get his hands on. Anything to stall the birth. Why? Because in my last life, Vincent—my husband, the Don—claimed to have a low sperm count. To guarantee an heir, he lined up ten mistresses and told the whole house: whoever popped out a son first, her kid would be the next Corleone Don. He promised if I delivered first, he'd ditch the others. Said our baby would inherit the throne. I bought every word. When I found out I was carrying twins, I couldn't stop shaking—I thought I'd won. But after I gave birth, he tossed me and the babies into the freezing wine cellar and locked the place down. "Lucy came from nothing. I just wanted to give her kid a name. You started rumors, pushed her into despair, and now she's dead—her and the baby. You're vile. Not fit to be the Don's wife. Think about what you've done. I'll open the door in three days." Then he had the butler seal it shut. What he didn't know? That night, the cellar caught fire. Me and my babies? Burned alive. When I opened my eyes again, I was back—right before labor. This time, I'm not staying. Soon as I deliver and get back on my feet, I'm taking my kids and disappearing for good.

Brianna Lester, with her unusually platinum blonde hair and grayish-blue eyes, is impossible to miss wherever she goes. Her bubbly personality, hyperactivity, innate talent for tripping even while standing still, and her knack for always causing trouble ensure that she immediately catches the attention of the coolest tattoo artist around. Unfortunately, it's not her rather unique appearance that gets noticed, but her clumsiness. The moment she closes the door of the tattoo shop, one of the pictures hanging on the wall-the owner's favorite, and quite valuable-unexpectedly falls down. To make up for the damage, she ends up working at the shop until she can pay off the cost of the picture. It would all be pretty easy if a sexy tattoo artist didn't enjoy teasing her about her bad luck. By now, Brianna has resigned herself to the idea that her life is stuck in the "never a joy" zone, and her birthday is proof of that. Who can be considered lucky if they were born on a day that only comes once every four years? No one. Some people are kissed by fortune at birth, while others are kissed by bad luck. Brianna definitely falls into the latter category.

Kaelani spent her life believing she was wolfless. Cast out by her pack. Forgotten by the Lycans. She lived among humans—quiet, invisible, tucked away in a town no one looked at twice. But when her first heat comes without warning, everything changes. Her body ignites. Her instincts scream. And something primal stirs beneath her skin— summoning a big, bad Alpha who knows exactly how to quench her fire. When he claims her, it’s ecstasy and ruin. For the first time, she believes she’s been accepted. Seen. Chosen. Until he leaves her the next morning— like a secret never to be spoken. But Kaelani is not what they thought. Not wolfless. Not weak. There is something ancient inside her. Something powerful. And it’s waking. And when it does— they’ll all remember the girl they tried to erase. Especially him. She’ll be the dream he keeps chasing… the one thing that ever made him feel alive. Because secrets never stay buried. And neither do dreams.