Dragon Ball Z Future Gohan Novels & Stories

To seize more territory, the ancestors of the Black Moon Pack desecrated the Moon Goddess's altar. For their crime, a deadly curse was woven into their bloodline: no male wolf of their pack lives past the full moon of his thirtieth year. The only cure is to mark a she-wolf with the blood of the Moon Goddess, using her song to suppress the rage that boils in their blood. In my last life, I was that cure. I was married to their Alpha, Corbin. He marked me before the entire pack, binding us as mates. But once the threat of death was gone, he had me thrown into an asylum. "I never believed in that Moon Goddess blood crap. If the pack hadn't forced me to marry you, Faye never would have run off and married that Beta from the neighboring pack. Now she's broken mate bond, and I'm going to make her my Luna, no matter what. As for you, go to hell." Then he shattered our bond, whispered to the guards, and walked away. I was locked in a silver cage, tortured day after day with injections of silver poison. On the day of Corbin and Faye's mating ceremony, the guards gave me a fatal dose. A fiery agony tore through me. My body convulsed, and then… endless darkness. When I opened my eyes again, I was back. Back at my own marking ceremony. This time, I'm going to watch. And I'm going to see if Corbin can survive his thirtieth birthday without my blood.

Anita didn't want her father's wealth to fall into the hands of her half-brother and stepmother. Marriage was the prerequisite for holding company shares. Anita ultimately chose a random man she met at the hospital. He needed money because his face was disfigured and deformed. "I'll pay for the hospital bills, but you have to be my husband." Anita married him, regardless of his bandaged face. Marriage wasn't important to Anita, as long as she could get all her family's wealth back. A mysterious man smiled with satisfaction at Anita's crazy request to marry him. To hide his identity, he accepted her crazy offer. "Okay, let's get married, honey." The mysterious man smiled meaningfully. If he knew her identity, she would surely regret marrying him. Who exactly was Anita's husband? What would happen to Anita after she found out who her secret husband was? Would she truly regret it?

My uncle stole money from the mafia and ran. Now, my sister has to pay the debt through marriage. But when I ruined the wedding and she tried to jump off a building, I had no choice but to take her place. ​I have to marry a man—the one I can't stop cursing and wishing to kill. Alessio motherfucking Vito is a vicious devil dressed in a fancy suit. Behind that charming smile, he paints the ground in blood and manipulates those who disobey. ​And when I disobey him, he promises to turn my life into a living hell. He wants to claim me, mark me, and destroy me. Well, that's too bad, because I'm going to ruin his life just as much as he ruined mine.

I masterminded a half-billion-dollar art auction to wash money for Miles’s family. But at the celebration party, Miles gave all the credit to Rebecca. His childhood friend. The daughter of the family’s consigliere. I stormed into his study. “Miles, head curator was Rebecca? Are you sure about that?” He looked up from a cloud of smoke, pulling me into his arms. His voice was a low, soothing rumble. “Valerie, I know you want to prove yourself, but this was all Rebecca. Especially the Caravaggio. The real one, worth three hundred million. She’s the one who pulled it off.” His lips brushed my forehead, his breath hot. “I don’t love you because you can fix some old paintings. You’re my queen, always. My girl. You don’t have to worry about her.” I almost laughed. The anger was choking me. “She can’t tell the difference between oil and acrylic. How the hell would she know a real from a fake?” “Enough!” Miles cut me off, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I know what Rebecca can do. Don’t make a scene just because you’re jealous.” His hands tightened, trapping me in his smoky embrace. “Don’t disappoint me, Valerie.” But he already had. When I’d had enough of his favoritism and his blindness, I walked. And that's when he went crazy. Scoured the earth looking for me. Begging me to come back, saying he was blind, that he’d been wrong about everything.

I married Don Matteo in secret. Every time he fucked his childhood sweetheart, he promised me a real wedding，in front of the Five Families. For five years, Matteo promised me ninety-nine times. And ninety-nine times, he left me at the altar. The first time, Cecilia’s prize-winning show cat died. To comfort her, he postponed the wedding for three months. I stood at the altar alone, eyes red, trying to calm down the family elders. The second time, Cecilia threw a tantrum at a casino and shattered a hundred-million-dollar antique vase. He diverted the private jet meant for their wedding and rushed through the night to clean up her mess. And every time, right before our wedding, his childhood sweetheart would have some kind of emergency. I cried. I screamed. I even held a gun to his head. But Matteo would just pin me against the wall and shut me up with a cold, hard kiss. “She’s just a fuck. You are Mrs. Falcone. Have some goddamn class.” After the ninety-ninth time, I was finally done. I slid the papers across the table. The ink was still wet, the Falcone family seal stamped at the bottom. “Our marriage, our alliance—it’s over.”

On graduation day, I caught Julian—the boy who had been my shadow for twelve years—pinning another woman against the wall, kissing her hard. His hand smacked her ass before he scooped her up and carried her into the hotel. When my call interrupted him, he just hung up impatiently and texted back: "Aria, stop playing the fragile little girl with your panic attacks. I'm not your babysitter anymore." "I'm the next in line for the Valerius family. I have real business to handle. I don't have the energy to be your nanny." Then, he coldly sent me a link to some newly developed AI personal assistant app. "If you're that lonely, go chat with the AI. It's way more useful than you clinging to me every day." I stood frozen, tears streaming down my face. A suffocating wave of heartbreak and loss swallowed me whole. My parents died saving his parents—the current Don and Donna of the Valerius Family. We grew up together. He took care of me for twelve years. I always thought he loved me. I even thought we'd get married one day. But now, I was just a burden. An annoyance. Watching his back disappear into the hotel lobby, I numbly downloaded the app. "What color should I wear to the graduation party?" "Burgundy. It complements your pale skin and hugs your curves perfectly." "I want to change up my jewelry too..." "You have beautiful collarbones. You don't need anything complicated. A minimalist platinum necklace would be perfect." "Where should I go for my solo graduation trip?" "Your private account shows a love for the Mediterranean. Go to the Amalfi Coast. The sun will look good on you." "Okay. I'll listen to you." Wait. Something was wrong. Why would an AI app know about my secret Instagram account?

Three years married to Victor, the Don, and as far as New York was concerned, we were untouchable. Until my own car was in the shop, so I took his daily driver from the garage. On the way, I activated the car's smart system and said, "Navigate home." But the screen pinpointed a place I had never seen before — a villa in the suburbs. Then, a sugary-sweet voice floated from the speakers: "Okay! Setting course for Victor and Mia's secret castle." My stomach dropped. Who was Mia? And what secret castle? Without a second thought, I dialed his number. "The home address is set to some strange place." He just laughed it off. "Oh, that. One of my guys' car broke down the other day. I let him use mine to drop someone off." "Okay, no problem," I said, smiling into the phone. I ended the call and pulled up the navigation history. That villa address was listed seventeen times, every single one on a day Victor was supposedly "out of town on business." I fired up the engine and drove.

For my birthday, my husband, Don Damien, gave me his dead wife’s pearls. I wore them to the dinner party. My enraged stepson, Leo, doused me in red wine. I became the laughingstock of the party. “You whore,” he hissed. “You think wearing my mother’s jewelry makes you her?” He stared at me, his eyes cold as ice. Then he screamed. "Get out of my house." But his mother died when he was a baby. I raised him. Someone had whispered poison in his ear. They told him I was the one who killed his mother. Now he thinks I'm a scheming bitch who tricked his father. And his father? My husband? He never saw me. He only saw Krista’s ghost. My heart didn't break. It shattered. They didn't love me. They didn't even care. So I walked. Then why, after I was finally gone, did they come crawling back, begging me to return?

In my past life, my mate, Rowan, left me and our newborn daughter in a remote village to fight for the Alpha title. Before he left, he promised me, "When I become Alpha, you will be my Luna. I'll make you the most respected wolf in the pack." I waited for three years, my daughter and I scraping by, often going hungry and cold. But I didn't learn the truth until I secretly traveled to the Blackstone Pack to find him, only to be beaten and cast out as a rogue. It turned out he had already accepted the former Alpha's terms: he would take his late brother's widow, Isabelle, and her children as his own, and in return, become the new Alpha. Furious, I tried to confront Rowan, but Isabelle poisoned me with wolfsbane. As I lay dying, I saw Rowan hold Isabelle gently and say, "Good. She's dead. Even if she had lived, you were always going to be my Luna." When I opened my eyes again, I was reborn on the very day Rowan was to inherit the Alpha title. This time, I took my daughter and went straight to my father, the Alpha of the Silver Moon Pack. "Father," I cried, "I was wrong. I want to sever my mate bond with him!"

On our sixth wedding anniversary, I felt a seam split open in my skull. Not from pain, but from truth. “Ethan, that new assistant… how does she taste?” Marcus’s thought, slick as oil. Ethan's reply slithered through my veins: "Young. Tender. Like summer berries." His lips shaped a lie. His hand shielded me from the crowd, even as his fingers pressed a blood-red cocktail into my palm. "Don't let Lena find out,"he thought, the words clear as speech. "I’d in a big trouble." Laughter swirled. Champagne clinked.their mind. Nobody knew I could hear every thought ,the ability to read minds awakened in me last night. . Nobody knew I had already known about his betrayal long ago. There were no tears, no screams I just replied “yes” to Professor Johnson’s encrypted call-the path I should have chosen six years ago. In three days, I would vanish. Not running from him. Running back to who I was at twenty—the rising star of virus research.