Final Breath Novels & Stories

I was born with a rare condition. My blood carried healing properties strong enough to neutralize any poison. When Garrett Frank, the young heir from Osbury, was bitten by a venomous snake, he was hanging by a thread. In that desperate moment, I slit my wrist and used my blood to cleanse the venom from his body. Only later did I find out that whoever saved Garrett's life would become the future Mrs. Frank. But after Garrett took over the family business, the first thing he did was drain every drop of blood from my body and have me chopped up and fed to his dogs. "At that time, Loretta had already brought the antidote," he had said coldly. "If you had just waited another five minutes, I could've married her openly and honorably. "But you had to interfere. You stole her place as Mrs. Frank, drove her into despair, and pushed her to take her own life. Since you claim your blood can cure any poison, let's see how much antidote it can make." They bled me dry and threw me into a cage for his dogs. I died there, torn apart and unrecognizable. Afterward, my parents went bankrupt because of the Franks. Both of them took poison and died together. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day Garrett had been bitten by the snake. Michelle Frank, Garrett's mother, looked at me with desperate hope. "I heard you have that rare healing blood," she said. "Will you please save my son?" I quickly shook my head. "That's just a rumor, Mrs. Frank. And honestly, using blood as medicine sounds pretty unsanitary. Please don't worry. I heard Ms. Huber is on her way with a special antidote. Your son will be fine!" Still, a small part of me couldn't help looking forward to what would happen. If I didn't step in this time, Garrett wouldn't just fail to inherit the family business—he'd be lucky to live another month!

The day my girlfriend got back together with her first love, I boarded a plane bound for Brindlewood. She told her first love, "Craig was just a fling. I won't have anything to do with him anymore. From now on, I'll only be by your side." Her friends all worried I might cause a scene. But they didn't know—this time, I wasn't going to make a fuss. Before leaving for Brindlewood, I had promised my mentor I'd join his medical research program. In just two weeks, I'd lose all contact with the outside world and dive into a secret project for the next ten years. From that moment on, there would be no ties between me and her anymore.

While Alpha Leon danced with his assistant on the dance floor, I sipped wine with clients. To avoid offending anyone, I let his intoxicated self brush his cold hand against my thigh. Still, Leon never glanced at me. His attention was entirely on helping the assistant brush stray hair from her forehead, softly asking if she was hungry. When the banquet ended, the assistant complained of boredom, and Leon immediately whisked her away, leaving me behind for the next round of festivities. “The young shewolf’s been busy with work lately. I’m just taking her to relax. “You don’t like bars, so don’t follow us. “Also, I won’t be back tonight. We’ll postpone tomorrow’s marking to another day.” We’d been together for five years. Although he gave me the title of Luna, he never marked me. This was the ninety-ninth time Leon Gray had unilaterally canceled marking me. So, I nodded. Since he was always busy, perhaps this marking was unnecessary.

On the tenth day after I perished in the avalanche, my husband finally remembered me. His first love was suffering from aplastic anemia and urgently needed a bone marrow transplant—one that only I could provide. He came home holding a donation consent form, ready for me to sign, only to find the house empty. Kelly leaned weakly against him. "Vanessa must really hate me. She doesn't want to donate her bone marrow, so she ran away on purpose, didn't she?" "Maybe we should just forget it," she sighed. "I can hold on a little longer." Caden gently comforted her, his heart aching. "I won't let anything happen to you." "It's just a bone marrow donation. It's not like she'll die from it." Then he pulled out his phone and sent me a message: [No matter where you are, come back immediately and sign the donation consent form.] [Don't be so selfish! Kelly is seriously ill. If she doesn't get a transplant soon, she'll die. It's just bone marrow—I'm not asking for your life!] [If you keep refusing, I'll stop paying for your mother's medical bills!] Caden… I died the moment you walked away from the ski resort with Kelly. The avalanche buried me and our unborn child beneath the snow. My mother, in her desperate attempt to save me, was torn apart by wild wolves. How could you not know?

I was a sketch artist acting for the police. On a secret mission, I was discovered by a murderer. My eyes were gouged out, and my body was dismembered, unceremoniously dumped in a garbage bin. On the brink of death, I called my boyfriend, a criminal investigator. However, he hung up on me because he was busy accompanying his first love to a prenatal checkup. A few days later, he received a painting that was a vital clue to finding the murderer, but he thought I was playing tricks on him. In his anger, he tore that portrait to shreds. After he found out the truth, he spent the whole night searching through the garbage to piece it back together.

Since The Fires of Alira one thousand five hundred years ago, dragons have lived separate from the other races in Midgar. They rarely make contact with others, unless in terms of conflict. Eleonora is the descendant of the dragon sovereign, and will one day assume the throne of the Perilous Horde herself. The horde, despite years of murky conflict, forges an alliance with the human kingdom of Samirya located in the northern region. It is no longer a matter of petty bickering. Now, with the eve of a Great War looming over them, both groups lives depend on a truce. As conflict thickens and land disputes grow increasingly more bitter, the chieftain of the Perilous Horde makes a final desperate move to unite the two worlds: the dragons will send an ambassador to protect the humans capital city of Mimmgar from the oncoming invasion. And who should be that ambassador be but Eleonora? Eleonora just hopes to complete that task quickly so she can return home, but soon finds that the humans are nothing like she expected. Forming an unforeseen connection with the human king, and becoming captivated by a young blacksmith, she begins to question everything she's ever known and learns that her homeland may have some terrible secrets of its own. Book one of A Dragon’s Legacy.

The story follows a cursed female werewolf– Lyra Noctis, born under an ancient and forbidden lunar phenomenon—one so rare that her birth requires the death of her mother. According to werewolf lore, females of her kind are not meant to form bonds, families, or unions. Any male werewolf who mates with her dies during the act, his life force consumed by the curse that sustains her existence. Despised by her father and feared by her pack, she grows up in forced isolation—no affection, no friendships, no future. Branded a living omen, she becomes a symbol of loss rather than life. Unable to bear the weight of her existence, she abandons her hometown, severing all ties to the past, and relocates to a distant city where she lives as a ghost among humans—quiet, detached, and deliberately unremarkable. There, she met an Alpha who has never shifted before and fate intervenes.

My wife made me get a vasectomy. Not once, but ninety-nine times. Right before the hundredth operation, the doctor looked at me with pity in his eyes as the anesthesia failed to fully kick in. "Ms. Gibson really knows how to destroy a man," he murmured. "She's put him through ninety-nine vasectomies, then had them reversed—again and again. However, his body's long since broken. There's no chance of children now." "It's probably for her ex. Word is, it's his own brother. The scandals in these wealthy families—unbelievable." Because of a hospital mix-up at birth, my and Jeff Cunningham's fates were exchanged. He grew up with the Cunningham family, while I lived a poor life. Years later, my parents found the truth, taking me in and sending Jeff away. To make things worse, I became Wynnie Gibson's new fiancé. I once asked her, barely able to speak through the pain, why she would marry someone she did not love. She looked at me calmly. "To get revenge," she said. "You came home and stole Jeff's place. He was the one I love. He drank himself to death after you returned." Even my biological parents knew she was poisoning me. However, they turned a blind eye. They did nothing to stop her. They knew Wynnie had got pregnant with Jeff's child through IVF—planning to raise the child and let him inherit the family fortune. I coughed up blood and threw myself into the sea. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day I was first reunited with them. This time, when I saw the sorrow in their eyes—sorrow not for me, but for the son they lost— I chose to let them go.

“Alex… I’m dying.” Amara’s trembling voice over the phone should have shaken her husband, but the renowned Dr. Alex Spencer simply replied, “Buy medicine and let me work.” The world envied their marriage to the perfect doctor, but behind closed doors, Amara carried every pain alone. Until the day she received two verdicts: brain cancer… and a divorce she signed with her own hands. She walked away, whispering, “This is the last meal I’ll ever cook for you,” leaving Alex furious and unable to accept the truth. And when he rushed into a house decorated with flowers and candles, her smiling picture greeted him instead. She was gone. He fell down, weeping like a child. But something still told him, this was all a setup. That Amara was still alive and he won’t rest until he finds her. Is Amara truly still alive? Read to find out!

On the day I was diagnosed with uremia, my husband asked me to donate a kidney to his one true love. I turned him down, claiming I wasn’t feeling well. I didn’t expect him, my own husband, who was a doctor, to drag me to trial. The charge? Ingratitude. If found guilty, I would be executed on the spot, my kidney forcibly harvested, my soul condemned for eternity. But if the charges were dismissed, my husband would face immediate execution. His love would fall into ruin, plagued by illness and poverty. Everyone pressured me to confess. After all, when I nearly died in a car crash years ago, it was her blood transfusion that had pulled me back from the brink of death. But what they didn’t know was… I had been reborn. In my past life, I died never knowing my husband and his lover had orchestrated the car crash that nearly killed me. Now that I had returned, I would tear off their masks and expose their malice for all to see.