Cried Rhymes Novels & Stories

My Alpha mate Kieran ordered our eight-year-old son to burn my mother alive because his Omega assistant accused me of killing her pet dog out of spite. Kieran's eyes were filled with impatience and disgust. "You're supposed to be our pack's respected Luna. Why would you target an innocent Omega? Whatever harm her pet suffered, your mother will endure the same. Your mother is paying the price for your jealousy!" I fell to my knees, begging Kieran to spare my mother. But he commanded our seven-year-old son Owen to light the fire himself. My son didn't hesitate for a second as he threw the torch into the pile of wood. "That's what you get for always going against Aunt Sera!" I screamed and cried, desperately begging them to help me put out the flames. "Please, I'm begging you, take my mother to the healing center..." "Enough, Aria. Your mother is still lying in the hospital bed. That's just a training dummy. Stop putting on this pathetic act." After saying that, father and son walked away without looking back. They didn't know that it really was my mother burning in those flames. But when I finally gave up on them and left, why did they both come crawling back, begging me to return?

I was adopted. They were so good to me that every night before I fell asleep, I prayed to grow up healthy and happy in this home. Then Mom got pregnant. I hid under my covers and cried all night, quietly packing the little suitcase I had arrived with. But they didn't send me away. They loved me even more. The day my brother was born, Mom took my hand and gently stroked my head. "Having an older sister," she said, "is why we have a younger brother." Dad lifted me above his head and spun me around laughing. "Lily is our family's lucky star — our most beloved baby!" I finally stopped dreading every single day. I thought I had truly become part of this family. Then my brother snapped my favorite Barbie in half. I pushed him. He stumbled, sat on the floor, stared for two seconds, and burst into tears. Mom panicked, shoved me aside, and pulled him into her arms, asking over and over if he was hurt. Dad came running. He grabbed my shoulders and slammed me against the wall, eyes blazing. "Is this what I raised you all these years for — to bully your brother? Believe me when I say I will send you straight back to—"

On our seventh wedding anniversary, my wife handed me a divorce agreement that was valid for seven days. She had fallen for a male intern at her company who was seven years younger than her. She wanted to experience what she called a proper romance with him, one that would last exactly seven days. On the first day, they booked an entire private cinema and made love to each other from the entrance to their seats. On the second day, they went to the seaside to set off fireworks, and the light spread across half the skyline of Veyron. On the fifth day, the intern burst into an art exhibition I hosted and cried in front of the entire press. He accused me of coming between them. That same evening, the story of a rising painter becoming a homewrecker for love reached the top of the trending searches, and the hate comments poured in. On the sixth day, my wife apologized to me on the intern’s behalf, and his punishment was a three‑day ban from shopping. On the seventh day, my wife finally sensed something was wrong. She called me ninety‑nine times and reminded me that we were supposed to reconcile the next day. I replied with a single “okay” and quietly told my assistant to arrange for my luggage to be shipped out. What she did not know was that seven days earlier, I had already made plans to go abroad to continue my studies. This time, I was done playing her game.

My husband, David Wright, brought me and my three-month-old son, Leo Wright, to his parents' for the holidays. But while Leo was asleep, my niece, Lana Wright, and her classmates carried him upstairs and threw him down. My baby died right in front of me. I lost my mind. I scooped him up and tried to rush him to the hospital, but it was already too late. He was gone before we ever made it there. Because Lana was still a minor, she barely faced any consequences. The court ordered her family to pay eight hundred thousand dollars in compensation, but my sister-in-law, Ariel Whittaker, wailed and screamed, accusing me of trying to drive them to their deaths. I cried until I felt like my heart had been torn apart. All I wanted was justice. But David and my mother-in-law, Nancy Wright, only scolded me. “Lana is just a child too! Are you really going to destroy her life just because your son died?” I never got my revenge. In the end, grief and hatred hollowed me out. That winter, I died of a heart attack. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the holiday gathering. This time, I immediately called my parents and asked them to take my son away. But even then, my niece still threw a baby from upstairs.

Five years ago, Samantha Manning was seven months pregnant when her husband Channing Lane's first love, Sydney Ingram, caused her to lose the baby. But what hurt most was what Channing said to her. "Syd didn't mean it. She can't go to prison." He signed a letter of forgiveness in Samantha's name regardless of her wishes. Five years later, Sydney returned from studying abroad. Harold Lane, the son Samantha had adopted, said to her, "You're a bad woman! You're always picking on Sydney!" Only then did Samantha finally understand that there had never been a place for her in that family. Furious, Samantha fought back. She took back everything she had lost and took back the love she had given Channing for eight years. As Channing and Sydney walked step by step toward their fitting end, Samantha turned around and married the powerful man who had always protected her. When Sydney's true nature was finally exposed, Channing begged and cried for Samantha to take him back. "Sam, it was all my fault! I didn't cherish you! Please forgive me and come back to me!" Samantha smiled faintly and stroked her slightly rounded belly. A new life was forming inside of her womb. The man who truly loved her had always been by her side.

When the wedding bells rang, my groom, Adrian Moretti, was gone. He was the Don of the Moretti family, and the man I had loved for seven years. By Moretti tradition, today I was meant to be acknowledged as the Don’s wife. Instead, I stood alone before the altar. At the same time, my mother sent a video to our family chat. In it, Adrian knelt in the banquet hall next door and slid my ring onto the finger of my twin sister, Livia Vale. Relatives cheered. My father smiled beside them. Livia cried against Adrian’s shoulder, and he comforted her as if she had always been the bride. I pulled off my veil, ready to demand an explanation, when my mother tagged me. Elena, Livia is your sister. She has always been weak, and she has always given way to you. Let her have this once. I called her with shaking hands. “Why did everyone hide this from me?” “Because you’ve fought with Livia since childhood. If we told you earlier, you would have caused a scene. What if she cut herself again?” “You’re healthy. You can have another wedding later.” “We’re family. Don’t make this ugly over a man.” I held the phone and could not speak. So it was not only my wedding they could give away. They could give me away with it. Then I was done with them.

Blaze’s tongue speared into me, flicking and sucking fast and a strangled scream tore out of my throat. I arched off the bed, or attempted to, but Blaze’s grip on my hips were like granite, mercilessly pinning me to the bed as he ravished me like I was his last meal on earth. “Please,” I cried out through a stuttered moan. A moment later, Justin was crouching above me, gripping my throat firmly and making me mewl shakily as my eyelids fluttered uncontrollably. “You wanna be a good girl for us? Don’t you?” He asked, voice silky and deep. I nodded my head vigorously, eagerly. I wanted to be good for him, for the both of them– always. I always want to be good for them. “Now shush. Be a good girl and take it.” ————- Molly has been in a relationship with Justin for over a year, and their love was as strong as mountains. When Molly’s twenty-first birthday arrived, she didn’t expect her boyfriend to bring her most dirtiest fantasy to life, which was to have a threesome with two hot looking men. And when Molly and her boyfriend realized just how much they loved that night spent with Blaze, it became a reoccurring experience. But, what Molly didn’t expect to happen, was for her to unknowingly start catching feelings for Blaze. • • This is a m/w/m ménage story featuring: - dom/sub undertones. - sexual awakenings. - dirty as fuck sex.

My mother in law hated me so much cause I couldn't bear her son a baby eventhough my husband and I have spent six years in marriage. She desperately wants my husband to divorce me so she and my bestfriend set me up to be f*cked by a stranger. When my husband heard of this, he mocked me and divorced me. While painfully dragging my luggage out of his house, I saw my pregnant bestfriend carrying her luggage inside my husband's house. Turns out my husband has impregnated my bestfriend. I cried blood and left the city. Seven years later, I became a popular Surgeon General and now have beautiful triplets by my side. But I was deployed back to my city cause my medical skill was most needed. In a twist of fate, I got married to an handsome solider. Only after I resumed work did I find out that the soldier I just married is the five star General, leader of every military units in the country plus he was by far the wealthiest man in the country. I'm just a single mother trying to create a better life for my three kids, now that I found myself entangled in his cold and ruthless world, how will I survive? And how will I explain to him that I do not know how my triplets bore the same resemblance with him?

Ever cried till you no longer had tears to shed? Bled till there was no more blood to bleed? Endured till it became a part of you? At that point, pain no longer seems like pain, but reality. No one knows how deep it cuts, how bad it hurts. But you endure it anyways. You don’t cry, you stay strong like a warrior that’ll never give up nor win. Talia Malakai, the Alpha’s daughter by name alone, lived like a shadow in her own home. In a pack where her blood should have earned her respect, she was treated as nothing more than a servant, scorned, unseen, a burden, bad luck, a curse. She learned to bow her head and swallow her voice, to endure the weight of each day like shackles she could never break. Her life was not hers, and she told herself it never would be. But even a broken girl could still be discarded. And when her father—the Alpha, the man who should have protected her—decided to sell her off like unwanted property, he called it relief. A relief from bad luck, he said, a release from the shame of having her as his blood. What awaits a girl who has already lost everything? Could being sold offer the faintest chance at freedom? Or was this only another hell waiting to swallow her whole?

Just one second before Alpha Daniel’s fated mark burned into my skin, a sharp voice pierced the air at the bonding ceremony. “Stop!” Jessica, Daniel’s first love, stumbled forward, her belly swollen. “Are you all really going to let this vicious woman become your Luna?” she cried, pointing at me with trembling hands. “She’s been torturing me for months! She poisoned my tea, left knives at my door, and tried to force me to abort Alpha’s pup!” My mind went blank at her sudden, fabricated accusations. “What? I didn’t—” Before I could finish, Jessica lunged toward me. Acting on instinct, I raised my arm to block her, but she collapsed heavily to the floor. “My pup!” she shrieked. “Daniel, look! She’s trying to hurt us again! Call the enforcers to arrest her!” In the next heartbeat, Daniel rushed forward, shielding Jessica in his arms without hesitation. He looked at me, his gaze cold and disappointed. “Rosie, why couldn’t you just behave? This pup is our pack’s heir!” Around us, the elders exchanged dark, knowing glances, silently condemning me. With no way to prove my innocence, I was sentenced to three years in the nightmare Silver Prison. Whips, hunger, endless violence… Eventually, I learned what Daniel really meant by “behave”. But why was he the one who regretted it?