False Hope Novels & Stories

Why do I still think that it was wrong for Dove? “I…” I hesitated to speak anything. I have made so many fake promises and didn’t want to add that number. But what could I do? “Max” her voice was almost ridiculing me, “What are you doing? You-- you literally gave her a fake hope?” I looked down and sighed. It wasn’t fake. I didn’t even bulge and didn’t even hesitate before saying it. It was like… it is a damn truth. There was no hesitation. “I… I didn’t give her a fake hope…” I looked at her and sighed. “You won’t understand but… I… really do”

Nox "It's been over two weeks," I said, my arms crossed over my chest as I leaned against my desk and stared. "We need to tell Alex. She's going to find out sooner or later." I took a deep breath and stared down at Deloris Witt. Perhaps over the years I'd overestimated her abilities. In most things, most instances, she was unstoppable—Superwoman. If that were true, then this assignment, Chelsea Moore and Infidelity, had become her kryptonite.

"You are supposed to be pure love. You are supposed to be absolute good. Everyone says so. Everyone believes so. Everyone worships you. But you admit wrongdoing. Admit imperfection. Admit causing harm. How can you be both? How can you be love and violator? How can you be good and wrong? How can you be hope and harm? It makes no sense. You make no sense. You confuse me." "I am not perfect," Hope said gently. "I never claimed to be perfect. Never said I was pure. Never declared myself absolute good. Others may believe that. Others may worship that. Others may claim that. But I know the truth. I am flawed. I am imperfect. I am capable of harm. Even while trying to love. Even while trying to hel

After we hang up, I feel something I haven't felt in weeks. Hope. Not the naive kind that ignores reality. The hard-won kind that chooses to fight for something even when the odds are terrible. We're not giving up. Not yet. We're going to try. Really try.

Fate doesn’t care what we’ve promised other packs. I clap a hand on Alaric’s shoulder, grounding him. “We’ll handle this,” I say. “Carefully.” He finally looks at me, and in his eyes, I see it. It’s not acceptance, or a decision, but something far worse… Hope, and that, more than anything, tells me we’re in trouble. Hope is dangerous. I’ve seen packs fall apart because an Alpha started believing the world might bend for him. Because he thought one impossible thing mattered more than the hundred lives depending on his restraint.

Marina looked at the third tablet. "The world requires some level of not knowing," Sable said. "Hope operates on incomplete information. Love operates on incomplete information. The willingness to try something that might fail, to trust someone who might betray you, to build something whose outcome you cannot guarantee. All of that requires the gap between what you know and what is true." She paused. "The third configuration closes that gap permanently. You would know what is real. You would also lose the ability to hope, to trust, to choose from a place of uncertainty." Silvain was very still beside Marina.

Lisa stomped around her room in a grump. She’d spent half the night tossing and turning, trying to get her head around everything they’d said and everything they’d not said too. A part of her still didn’t believe she was Fate even though deep down she somehow knew it was true. But then a part of her didn’t care that it was true because it didn’t make any difference in terms of how she felt; she was still stuck in this place, still a prisoner or as good as. And what did this war matter to her anyway? Even if she was Fate why should she help them? Prince phillip had already said he didn’t trust her so why should she put her life on the line for them?

I sighed. “And well, I’m sorry that I was willing to believe Brant. Yes, he’s a piece of shit, but his story, while not exactly believable about you, isn’t one that’s never happened before to me or other guys.” I frowned. “I’m not trying to make excuses. I just know that it’s happened to me and others. Like, look at Jane and how wacko she’s been about Darius. But you weren’t acting like those girls.” I sighed, shaking my head.

Madison, however, mistook my laughter for mockery and glared at me with disdain. I tilted my head and asked in amusement, "Since you say you've worked hard to teach yourself the art of traditional pottery, I'm curious just how hard you've worked." I asked her that because I knew she couldn't possibly have self-taught herself traditional pottery. She was lying just to build a persona and continue using traditional pottery to make money. Just like Tyler, they didn't actually care about preserving the heritage. They were just exploiting it for profit. But to my surprise, Madison pulled out her phone. She pointed to a popular account that documented her journey in learning traditional pottery. T

I am a 29-year-old woman. Feeling lost, feeling broken since I was 20. An accident ruined my life, my future, and my hope. Someone I really loved left me because I am useless. I have been useless for how many years… because of my paraplegia. Now, I want to tell you the story that gave me hope… and love. Let's start from when I was 21. A year after the accident. -- “Hey, Blair.”