Familial Bond

I have three dads who love and spoil me for fifteen years. Of the three, Maxim Ulfric is the high-ranking and authoritative Alpha of the Cinderhowl pack. The second is Ethan Skoll, the pack's most valiant Beta warrior. The third is Aidan Rafe, the most skilled healer of the whole pack. They're the reason I am the happiest princess of the Cinderhowl pack before turning 15. Everything changes after Raeya Wargan appears. Time and again, she accuses me of leading others to sideline and pick on her. Even my disappointed dads say I'm insensible and give everything I have to her as compensation. From then on, no one believes a word I say. Even the pups of the pack call me a pathological liar. Everything ends when Raeya throws me into a Rogue's den. As a ferocious Rogue hunts me down, I reach out through the mind-link to my dads for help. But none of them believes me. They call me devious and cunning. They say that I'm trying to frame Raeya on purpose. While a wolf pack tears my limbs apart, and my mangled corpse is left abandoned in the forest, my dads are wholeheartedly presiding over Raeya's grand coming-of-age ceremony. They once promised to give me the most unique coming-of-age ceremony, but it's a pity I'll never live to see that day.

My mom, Susan, had a habit of sending me to get her shopping. However, she would always leave out a zero when paying me back what was owed, blaming on her poor eyesight. I never minded. In fact, I would just cover the cost without another word. Then, Summer, my sister, had to throw shade. “Mom sends you money whenever she wants something. You never show us the actual costs, though. I bet you’re making a nice little profit off Mom behind our backs.” Susan smiled and didn’t even bother to defend me, as if confirming Summer’s accusations. My heart sank. Over the years, I had bought her things from major appliances to the smallest groceries, and each time, the payment she sent was short. Susan would just brush the whole thing off by saying, “Oh, my eyes aren’t what they used to be. My bad.” I had poured hundreds of thousands into her expenses, only to end up with a reputation as a thief who cheated her own family. When Susan sent me money for the New Year’s Eve catering, I simply booked food that fit the budget she paid for.

Nineteen-year-old Adele McAllister has a secret crush on her twenty-six-year-old stepbrother, Killian Black, who was the silver-furred Beta of a hidden werewolf pack. Killian has spent months hiding a secret and suppressing a forbidden-love attraction for the girl he considers to be his stepsister until the night he rescues her from a predatory stranger at a club. The ice between them doesn't just melt; it incinerates, revealing the secret that Killian is a member of an undercover werewolf pack. To save Adele from being killed or having her memories erased by the pack’s iron-fisted Alpha, Killian initiates a mating bond with his stepsister, dragging her into a supernatural world of secrecy and jealousy. As Adele undergoes a series of grueling, trauma-filled trials to prove her worth to the pack, the sexual tension between the "step-siblings" reaches a breaking point. Defying the Alpha’s direct orders, they give in to a night of raw, unprotected sex that strengthens their bond but paints a target on their backs. With a jealous rival seeking to sever their mate bond and a conspiratorial uncle plotting their demise, Killian and Adele must choose to uphold the laws of the pack or burn it all down for a love that was never meant to be.

After the real son, Asher Vale, was brought back, everything in our house became tied to drawing lots. The chef of the day, who would have to cook a particular person's preferred dishes, had to be decided by drawing lots. Even our parents' kisses and hugs were chosen the same way. I always drew the short stick. The long stick, by default, belonged to Asher. He never had to do anything to receive our parents' love. Whenever I felt it was unfair and wanted to cry, Mom would scold me sharply, "I bought the lot-drawing box because I was afraid you'd feel hurt. I wanted to be fair to both of you. If you want something, decide it yourselves. Your father and I won't interfere. If you can't draw the long stick, you can only blame your bad luck." So I began practicing every day, shaking the box diligently, over and over, in hopes that one day, it would help me earn my parents' love. Unfortunately, for ten years, I never once drew the long stick. Until my birthday. Asher wanted to go to the amusement park, and Mom once again told us to decide by drawing lots. I secretly glued the two short sticks together and handed them to Mom, hoping to keep her with me. She slapped me hard across the face, screaming that I was cheating and disobedient. Then she stormed out of the house with Asher. When I fell to the ground, the short stick stabbed deep into my neck. 'I'm sorry, Mom. Next time, I'll work harder. Next time, I'll definitely draw the long stick.'

My younger sister was crazy about novels and always envied the way ordinary heroines pick up penniless heroes and climb the social ladder. So, she started picking up men wherever she could. Until one day, a man with a face covered in sores collapsed at our doorstep. I instantly recognized the signs of syphilis and warned my sister repeatedly, and only then did she give up the idea. However, fate had other plans: my sister's best friend "picked him up" instead and married into a wealthy family. My sister held a grudge. On my birthday, she locked me in my room and set it on fire. No matter how desperately I begged, she refused to open the door. Outside, she sneered: "I know you're just scared I'll live better than you, so you want to drag me down into misery with you. People like you don't even deserve to be a sister!" I burned alive, my body reduced to nothing but ashes. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day my sister insisted on "picking up that man." This time, I quietly stepped back, letting her have her way—of course, I chose to let her succeed.

Racheal Louis thrown out by her family after her parents death, struggled to provide for herself ,before getting hired by Austin Daniels, the CEO of Daniat Airways ,the rival of the Louis family to pretend to be the lost grand daughter of the Daniel's family for 2 months. Love and tension build up. Together they look for ways to expose her family.

My wife, Lilian Barton, loves me more than life itself. She has spent the past eight years working hard with me just so she can get pregnant with my child. Our son, Wesley Carson, needs immediate medical attention because of an asthma attack. On my way to the hospital, I accidentally crash into the wedding procession of a mafia leader. Wesley, who's barely a month old, is hurled to the ground, causing him to bleed everywhere. But that's when I see Lilian, who has an arm wrapped around the groom in the car. She tells a subordinate, "What bad luck! Not only is my wedding being interrupted, but there's also blood being spilled on my wedding day! Just kill that little bastard already!" Lilian outright ignores Wesley's cries of pain. Before she leaves, I hear her murmur, "Cover his mouth. That baby's cries are so annoying."

Oliver Reed was never treated like a son-in-law by the Connors. Instead, he was treated like a loser maid, considering his orphanage background. He was then set up by the Connors so he could be exiled from them. Little did he know, his long-lost family had found him and turned his life around in an instant. Follow his journey as he plots revenge on the Connors, with his family as support.

After my older sister Rachelle came home from dialysis, the atmosphere at home was suffocating. She curled up on the couch, thin as a rail. She was nagging me hard and telling me not to tire myself out too much at work. Dad was by the door smoking. To get money to treat Rachelle’s condition, he had sold our old house and land. Dirty and muddied, my fiance, who had always viewed Rachelle as a sister of his own, brought home his week’s salary. They all lamented how unfair life was to already poor and suffering people who had to suffer even more. I looked at myself in the mirror with my bleeding nose and flushed away the report with my acute leukemia diagnosis. During dinner, Dad suddenly said, “Ryleigh, Rachelle needs a kidney. You’re healthy and young. You might be a match.” I looked at Rachelle’s pleading eyes and coldly put my cutlery down. “I won’t do it. I’ll be a cripple with one less kidney. How am I supposed to find someone to marry then?” Dad slapped me hard, even as my fiance called me ungrateful. I slammed the door shut as I left. I looked for the nearest room to the hospital to rent so that I could wait it out until I died. The room I found was only five blocks away from the organ donation center.

The day I signed the divorce papers, I voluntarily gave up custody of my daughter. Because that day, in the courtroom, she clung to her father’s neck, sobbing with all the fury a six-year-old could muster: “You don’t even love me… do you? If you leave Daddy, I’ll stay with him… and you’ll be all alone forever!” In my past life, I had ignored her childish threats. I fought tooth and nail for her custody. I poured every ounce of myself into raising her. And yet… she spent her entire life hating me. Not once did she ever call me “Mom” until the day I died. On her wedding day, she even invited her father’s mistress to the stage to give a speech of thanks. Now, opening my eyes again, seeing that same cruel little face staring back at me, I simply nodded. “I don’t care.” After all… I never wanted a daughter like her anyway.