Death Of Wolverine Novels & Stories

It had been ten years, and Ethan—my mate—and I still didn’t have a pup. One day, he suggested we adopt one from the Werewolf Orphan Charity Agency. “My mate,” he said gently, “pregnancy is too hard for you. You’d have to go through so many checkups and herbs. Your wolf shouldn’t have to suffer like that.” When others heard this, they all said Ethan loved me deeply—that he couldn’t bear to see me in pain. But I saw the truth with my own eyes. He took an infant pup from another she-wolf. “Luckily, Mia isn’t pregnant,” he said. “That way, the excuse of adopting an infant works—and the pup can have a legitimate status in my clan.” I knew that she-wolf well. The same one Ethan used to call a “stupid omega.” Swallowing the bitterness in my heart, I called my mentor at the Werewolf Research Academy. “I want to devote myself to herb research,” I said calmly. Three days from now, during the pup’s first New Moon blessing, I’ll fake my death in a fire. No one will be able to stop me.

My father is the First Warrior of the Moonflash pack. He often takes me to all kinds of banquets, and I always look forward to them. Today, he brings me to a banquet hosted by Judy. I take a bite of raw meat on my plate and immediately spit it out. I once ate raw meat when I was younger, and my stomach hurt for several days. I nearly died. The healer later told me that I'm allergic to the protein in raw meat, and that experience left a lasting impression on me. Judy looks hurt when she sees my reaction. "I went to the forest myself to catch that reindeer," she says. "I killed it just this morning. I didn't cook it so that I wouldn't ruin its freshness. I didn't expect Ray would turn her nose up at it." Dad is angry about how rude I am, so he chases me out of the banquet and locks me up in a cramped lounge. The lounge is hot and stuffy, and I soon start finding it hard to breathe. A sharp pain twists in my stomach like a knife. I want to find Dad, but no matter how much I bang on the door, he refuses to open it. Through the window, I can see Dad and Judy standing in the center of the hall. They're conversing happily, but no one even looks in my direction. I'm suffocating, so I lie on the floor. I want to shout for Dad, but I can't make a sound no matter how hard I try. Then, I realize that I'm standing up and can walk through the door. But why is my body still lying on the floor? That's when it hits me. I'm dead.

Nakulong sa elevator sa loob ng kalahating oras ang kababata ng asawa ko. Sa galit niya, ipinasok niya ako sa loob ng isang maleta at ikinulong ako sa loob. “Doble ang pagbabayaran mo sa lahat ng pagdurusang pinagdaanan ni Grace.” Napilitang mamaluktot ang katawan ko. Nahirapan akong huminga. Umiyak ako habang humihingi ng tawad, pero ang napala ko lang ay ang malamig na tugon ng asawa ko. “Pagdaraanan mo ang buong parusang ‘to. Kapag natutunan mo na ang leksyon mo, magtatanda ka na.” Pagkatapos ay kinandado niya ang maleta sa aparador. Sumigaw ako sa desperasyon at nagpumiglas para makawala. Tumagos ang dugo ko sa maleta at bumaha ang sahig. Makalipas ang limang araw, naawa siya sa akin at nagpasyang wakasan ang parusa. “Hayaan mong maging babala sa’yo ang parusang ‘to. Sa pagkakataong ito, pakakawalan na kita.” Hindi niya alam na inaagnas na ang katawan ko sa loob ng maleta.

Silver burned. Holy light seared. I screamed my brother’s name, Theron, into the communication crystal. My consciousness was fading. His cold voice finally crackled through. "What now?" I fought through the pain, my voice weak. "Theron, please… help me…" He cut me off, his voice a razor's edge. "Enough! Lilith is hosting the Blood Moon Festival. Stop causing trouble. If you’re tormenting her out of jealousy again, I’ll throw you in the sun cells myself." The line went dead. Lilith. Our manipulative little adoptive sister. Was she really more important to him than his own blood? The silver poison and searing light consumed me. I shattered. My tears turned to ash, my body right behind them. Congratulations, Theron. You're free of your annoying sister. You don't have to lock me up anymore. Because I'm already dead.

Alice Long and I were caught in the crossfire. When my boyfriend—a combat medic responsible for saving the wounded—came to our rescue, he pushed me aside. Gently cradling Alice, the girl I had shielded, he shot me a cold glance and said, "Crystal, I'm deeply disappointed in you. She needs immediate care to avoid infection!" What about me? Was I meant to die instead? When my flag-draped coffin arrived home, he had the nerve to weep openly at my memorial. This once-renowned combat medic, celebrated around the globe, never set foot outside his room again.

I have been dead for seven years. For seven years, a rare plague had ravaged the Silver Moon Kingdom. The new Luna, Lilith, wasn't immune either. She coughed up blood daily, her old wounds weeping anew with every full moon. Even in death, to the wolf packs, I was still the jinx. The false Luna who had beguiled the Alpha King. The cursed one destined to bring ruin to the kingdom. The entire kingdom begged Alpha King Kaelan to banish my vengeful spirit. My former mate was in the royal palace, softly consoling his current Luna, my sister. "Lilith, don't be afraid. If she insists on tormenting you with her curse even after death, then I will tear her inner wolf to shreds. You'll never be threatened by her again." But when they set foot in the Rogue Lands where I had been exiled, they found no wandering spirit of mine. Before them knelt the corpses of dozens of she-wolves, arranged neatly before my crude grave. They had all been exiled as "sinners", yet now, in death, they offered their final act of devotion. There was no trace of any spirit. There was only a small girl, about six years old, sitting beside the tombstone and clutching a photograph of me from when I was alive. Her ice-blue eyes were a perfect reflection of Kaelan's. "You're too late," she said. "Her inner wolf returned to the Moon Goddess long ago." "I've only been waiting here to get justice for my mother."

In the fifth year after my death, my wife, Yuna Lane, visited my apartment once more. She wanted me to take the blame for her childhood sweetheart's corporate fraud crimes. "Finn, Joe is going to be elected the chairman of the Trade Association. He can't afford any blemish to his reputation. Will you only be satisfied by thoroughly ruining him? "It's only two more years in prison! Joe said he'll give you a job once you're released. Stop being so ungrateful!" Her screams and shouts startled my neighbors. … When she banged on the door once more, the woman who lived across from me finally stepped out into the hallway. "Miss, stop banging on the door. He died long ago." "He's dead?" The woman sighed. "Yes. I hear it goes back to that fraud case years ago. The victim's family wasn't happy with the sentence, so as soon as Finn was released, they had him run over and killed.” My wife's face turned stark white upon hearing the truth. However, barely a few seconds passed before she let out a cold scoff, confident this was all just a scheme of mine. "Great. He's willing to fake his death just so he can get out of helping Joe. Does he really think I'm helpless and powerless against his schemes? Tell him that his parents are dead meat if he doesn't show up in three days!" She then violently kicked the metal grills of my door before strutting away on her high heels. The woman watched her walk away with bloodshot eyes, shaking her head in pity as she muttered under her breath, "Poor guy. His old man died soon after hearing of his death..."

My father hates my mother for ruining his chance with his first love, and his hatred spills onto me, the unwanted child who carries her blood. I'm 18 when I'm kidnapped. The abductor calls Dad, who is a police officer, and threatens him. Dad thinks I staged the whole thing myself and tells the man to slice me apart if he wants to. The abductor tortures me to death. He even cuts my body into pieces and feeds it to the fish. Only then does Dad lose his mind. He tracks down the abductor and hacks him to death.

In the second year of our marriage, which Brett Mason had secured through relentless means, he brought home his latest conquest—a stunning blonde. As the door swung shut, he ran his fingers through her silky hair, flashing me a smug, triumphant grin. "Wanna join us? You might learn a thing or two about not being such a dead fish." I could still recall how he once adored my hair, claiming that just stroking it would melt away his deepest worries. It turned out any woman could serve that purpose. In that instant, a profound sense of release washed over me. I retrieved the divorce agreement I'd stashed away in a drawer and handed it to him. "Sign it, and I'll make room for her." My days were numbered, and I had no intention of wasting what little time remained entangled in his resentment.

Ean's face twisted with anger as he grabbed me by the arm, dragging me toward the old, rusted freezer in the corner of the warehouse. "You're going to feel what Helen felt," he spat. "Maybe that'll teach you not to mess with her." I struggled against him, panic rising in my chest. "Ean, this is insane! It was an accident! Let me explain—" He wasn’t listening. He shoved me inside the freezing metal box and slammed the door shut. The echo of the lock clicking into place made my heart pound in my ears. I banged on the door with my fists. "Ean, please! You can’t do this!" I screamed, but the sound of his footsteps grew fainter as he walked away. He left me with nothing but a single bowl of water, like I was some kind of prisoner. I slumped against the cold metal, shivering. The temperature plummeted almost instantly. The hum of the freezer kicked in, and I realized too late—it wasn’t broken like he thought. It was working, and I was trapped. My body shook uncontrollably as the cold seeped into my bones. I screamed for help until my throat was raw, clawing at the walls in desperation. My bloody handprints smeared across the icy surface, a silent plea for mercy that no one would hear. Seven days passed. When Ean finally returned, the look on his face was one of smug satisfaction. He had expected me to beg, to apologize. But when they pried open the freezer, all they found was my frozen body, stiff and silent, my suffering long over.