Female Ghostface Novels & Stories

I'm the Whitefang Pack Alpha's daughter. Thanks to Samzor—Alpha of Nightfang and my so-called betrothed—I got shoved into a mate bond with a limp rogue. He sold out three generations of Nightfang war honors just to make it happen. Dad lost it. He went straight to Nightfang territory, demanding answers. Samzor? He laughed. "Alpha Connor, come on. Nyara's your heir. You'd never let her actually mate a cripple. "I've loved her for seven years. I'd never mistreat her. I just need her to compromise—let Catherine stay with me. "Don't stress. Catherine's obedient. Polite. She'll make a good servant for Nyara." Catherine. A fox-wolf halfblood he dragged in from a border patrol. Scared I'd kick her out the second our bond was sealed, he cooked up this garbage plan to trap me. Only problem? The Alpha King's decree doesn't do take-backs. Mom handled the dowry. I'd go through with the ceremony. Bond to that rogue. After that? Samzor was dead to me.

After I finished the Luna training that every she-wolf dreamed, I went to my Alpha, Damien, with a request. To break our mate bond. "All this, just because I missed your ceremony to help my late brother's mate, Lilith, with the rogues in her territory?" A smirk twisted his lips, his voice a low rasp. I nodded, silent. "I gave my brother my word before he died. I swore I would protect Lilith. I can't break that vow! Why can't you understand?" he whispered, sighing heavily. "Stop being so childish! Why can't you be reasonable, like Lilith is?" I pushed him away with a chilling calm. Ten years. For ten years after our bond was confirmed, I gave up everything. Every hobby, every dream… all to learn how to be his Luna. Everyone in the pack thought I was helpless without him. That I couldn't even survive without his protection. But this time, I was done. He didn't know I'd already contacted the neutral packs in another land. I was going somewhere his Alpha scent could never reach me.

Tiffany Viaje del Cargador is a daughter of Don Arnulfo, the powerful Don of the Alpha Brotherhood. Being a sole child, she is bound to inherit her father's wealth and position in the brotherhood. And yet, everything comes with a price. At eighteen, she is sent to a public school in the province with only one mission: kill the notorious leader of the Dragon Brotherhood-Lucio Hernandez. He is hiding as one of the teachers in Libangon National High. Disguised as a Grade 11 student, she sets foot in that school, hoping to get the job done right away. She is willing to do anything to please her father and to be the first Female Alpha Don, but then there is Teacher Greg, a local public school teacher. And she finds herself falling in love with him, compromising her mission. Given the circumstances, will she still succeed according to plan?

“You should worship me.” He whispers, as the heat of his breath caresses her ear. Her voice betrays her as her emotions go wild. Words fail to fall from her lips as feelings that she never knew she could feel envelops her. At that moment, she knew that she was never getting free from His Ungodly Touch. What had she gotten herself in? .......... After her life being spared by a serial killer and watching her entire family die before her eyes, a young orphan female is rescued by a stranger and is tossed from one foster home to another; and when she finally decides to take vengeance, her emotions gets the most of her and she goes down a path that she can never return from; she becomes an assassin. But when she is sent to killed a well-known CEO, her trajectory changes. Instead of wiping his existence from the earth, she gets entangled in the arms of this desperate and soulful CEO.

Ari woke up to find herself in the body of a newborn female beast cub, her mind still reeling from the shock of her sudden rebirth. The last thing she remembered before her new life began was the chaos of hijackers on her plane, followed by the devastating crash that claimed the lives of all the passengers, including her own. As she struggled to come to terms with her new reality, Ari was overwhelmed with fear and uncertainty. She had always suffered from androphobia, an intense fear of men, and despite years of psychiatric treatment and medication, she had never been able to fully overcome her condition. Even in her previous life, she had struggled to make intimate contact with her own family. As she looked around at the unfamiliar world she now found herself in, Ari couldn't help but wonder if she would be able to survive in this strange new place. Despite her condition, she was determined to find a way to adapt and overcome her fears.

As soon as I get off the surgical table after my miscarriage, my husband, Presley Quinn, sends me a text message. "You were ten cents short when you paid your share of the power bill this month. Transfer the money to me immediately." I can only sit on the cold bench in the hospital on my own. The anesthesia has yet to wear out, but my belly is already hurting so much that I can practically feel it constricting on itself. The next thing I know, a new post appears on my social media homepage. It's a post made by Vivienne Ashford, the intern Presley is in charge of tutoring. In the photo, Vivienne can be seen holding a bouquet of flowers folded from money bills. A bright and radiant smile blooms on her face. The four-leaf clover necklace adorning her neck is the same necklace I've seen in Presley's purchase history two days ago. The caption of the photo writes, "I don't want a lot of money. I want a ton of love instead." Only then do I remember that today is Valentine's Day as well as my fifth-year anniversary with Presley. Over the past five years, Presley and I have been splitting every single bill, down to two decimal places. If I take a shower for more than 20 minutes, Presley demands that I pay extra for the water heater's power bill. When I cook myself some supper in the middle of the night, Presley wants me to split the gas bill generated by the stove. Even when my mom is hospitalized due to kidney failure and is waiting for her surgical bills to be settled, Presley refuses to lend me a single cent. Instead, he sends me a few links leading to web loans. As I stare at the social media feed, I chuckle all of a sudden. It turns out that Presley does know how to spend money. It's just that he doesn't have the heart to spend it on me. I smile once again as I leave a like on the post. Then, I transfer the ten cents to Presley. From now on, I don't owe him any single penny.

I'm eight months pregnant when I suddenly faint on the train. My husband panics and cries for help as he kneels beside me. An interning doctor hurries to me. She doesn't bother checking my condition before saying, "The patient needs to undergo a C-section! We have to get the baby out now, or it might die of suffocation!" Then, she slices me open with a fruit knife—she doesn't take any precautionary measures before doing so. She takes my child out. I'm in so much pain that I don't even have the strength to scream. My blood flows everywhere. Yet, a photo of her holding my baby while standing in a pool of blood goes viral. People call her the prettiest doctor alive. My husband and his family are eternally grateful to her. They don't go after her for causing my death; they even make her my child's godmother! Meanwhile, I'm given a simple cremation. No one cares about me. After my death, all my assets go to my husband and his family. Only then do I hear my husband and the doctor talking to each other, sounding smug. "This plan killed two birds with one stone. We got rid of that woman and made ourselves out to be heroes!" That's when I learn the interning doctor is my husband's junior from high school. They got together when he accompanied me to my prenatal checkups! She failed her internship, so my husband came up with this idea—he wanted to use my death to boost her reputation and help her! Even my child eventually died under their "care". When I open my eyes again, I'm taken back to the day we get on the train.

"No matter the price," I said calmly to the witch across from me, "I will buy the scroll that severs a mate bond." I am Jean Thompson, Luna of the Crescent Pack in name only, and mate—also in name only—to Alpha Felix Frost. In the five years I carried this title, I endured Felix's indifference, my in-laws' scorn, and the pack's cold neglect. All because I loved Felix. I believed, with a devotion that consumed me, that one day my sincerity would move his heart. But on the very day of our fifth anniversary—when I discovered I was carrying twins—I stumbled upon him leading the entire pack of warriors to the airport… to welcome his childhood sweetheart, Mary Lockwood. That moment shattered the last of my hope. When he returned, I hid the bond-severing scroll among a stack of business documents and set it in front of him. "What's this? If it's important, give it to me later—" Before he could finish, Mary's syrup-sweet voice slipped in between us, "Alpha, our reservation is about to begin." Felix didn't even bother to look. He pressed his handprint casually on the scroll, ending five years of our bond. Just like that, our mate bond was severed. But I walked away with more than freedom. I carried with me a secret that could shake the entire pack—two lives growing inside me. Twins, foretold to become kings of the werewolves: the Alpha heirs. Later, in a place far beyond his reach, I gained everything I had once longed for—respect, trust, and love. But Felix came back like a storm I could not escape. His eyes were bloodshot, his body trembling with fury as he trapped me against the wall. "I never agreed to sever our bond," he growled. "Where do you think you're going with my pups?"

My husband—one of the top elites of Raventon Street, cold and ruthless to his core—keeps a stray orphan girl he rescued from the slums hidden in an apartment. Rowena Fletcher is clean and fragile, like a newborn creature untouched by the world. And somehow, that innocence softens something in Micah Benson—a man who's spent years clawing his way through the brutal wilderness of capital. He thinks this secret game of his goes unnoticed, but I find out anyway. At the Benson family's charity gala, I smash his favorite antique vase in front of everyone. He doesn't even flinch as he simply signals the bodyguards to clean up the mess and then hands me a divorce agreement. "Sign it, Sabrina. The penthouse in Ashbourne City is yours." I burn the divorce agreement—and that's when he finally shows his true colors. He freezes all my accounts and launches a hostile takeover of my gallery. On the night the storm hits, I get a call from the hospital. My sister, Roberta Slater, has been in a car crash—she needs emergency surgery. In the security footage, he stood there, watching coldly. "Sign the papers, or start planning a funeral." I dropped to my knees and slammed my forehead against the floor, blood trailing down my face as I begged, "Micah, please… don't…" A long, flat beep echoed from the other end of the line, slicing through the sound of rain. Then a voice on the line says, "We did everything we could." However, I have gone back in time—to the day I first found out about Rowena. This time, I no longer cry. Instead, I plan my divorce on my own terms. I call Valebrook Bank that same night and begin preparing for a quiet disappearance. But the moment I truly vanish from his world, Micah loses his mind.

I was pregnant and due any day. Austin Revelstone, my husband, had a sugar baby named Tawny Sully. Each time they renewed their arrangement, money came into my mother’s special care account. One day, he stayed a little longer to talk to me. Because of it, he was one minute late for his date with Tawny. Tawny was upset. She threw a tantrum and threatened to terminate their agreement. She would only stay if I aborted my baby. So, Austin slid the abortion form and a check for three million dollars across the table to me. “Please, just sign it. We can always have another kid. If Tawny cries anymore, she’ll get wrinkles.” He looked calm and unbothered. It was as if he were just talking about the weather. I raised my head and looked at him in disbelief. I trembled for a long time. Then, I finally signed my name on the abortion form. I wiped my tears and gave the check back to him. I made one additional request. “Let’s make that fake divorce certificate real this time.” I no longer needed his financial support for my mother’s surgery.