Romans & histoires Freddy Fast Bear Games

On the Memorial Day weekend, Mason Hayes, the student my wife, Abigail Sullivan, had been sponsoring, insisted on riding with me back to his hometown. My car was small, the drive was long, and the trunk was already packed. There was no way to fit another adult, so I turned him down as politely as I could. That night, Abigail came home and stayed quiet for a long time before finally saying, "He ended up walking along the highway. His feet were torn up." I frowned, trying to make sense of it. "It's a holiday weekend. There are Ubers everywhere. He could've booked one in minutes." She nodded softly, the same gentle expression she always wore, and poured me a glass of water. I drank it. The next thing I knew, everything went black. When I opened my eyes again, I was standing under a brutal midday sun on an empty stretch of highway. Abigail leaned into Mason's shoulder, holding her phone up as she livestreamed. There was a faint smile on her lips, but there was nothing warm about it. "You said getting around was easy, right? Why don't you try walking home yourself?" The livestream was packed. The chat flooded with messages, people placing bets on how far I would make it. I looked straight into the camera, ran my tongue over my cracked lips, and said, "Done enjoying the show? Now come and pick me up."

My husband's childhood sweetheart is gravely ill. She says her only wish is to die in his arms. So, she boldly moves into our marital home. I demand an explanation for this, but my husband only snaps at me. "Why are you holding this against her when she already has one foot in the grave? Can't you be more magnanimous?" I sneer at that. Half a month later, the paparazzi catch me coming and going from Novak Group's heir's villa. My husband demands an explanation with bloodshot eyes. I imitate his previous response. "Why are you holding this against him? Can't you be more magnanimous?"

Madeline Sanders had always been aware that her marriage to Trevon Gibson was merely a contract. When his first love breezed back into town, Trevon wasted no time in asking for a divorce. Clutching the results of her pregnancy test, Madeline was at a loss for words. She was stripped of everything and left to fend for herself. She decided to start anew as an artist and a single mom. However, Trevon couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. He inexplicably suffered pregnancy symptoms. Madeline's morning sickness became his, her cravings for pickles turned into his own, and her labor pains echoed through his body. Afterward, Madeline declared, "The baby will carry the name Sanders!" There stood Trevon, juggling a bottle and a diaper, "Sanders it is! Darling, when do you say I join the Sanders crew?"

I was once the shadow at Nathan’s side, summoned at his will. Pregnant with his child, only to be fed contraception pills by him. On the day of my miscarriage, he was celebrating Liora’s birthday. She took away my parents' love, stole my identity, and destroyed my token, while he stood by and criticized me for being dramatic. They teamed up to lock me in cold storage, tricked me with an AI-generated apology, and even accused me of faking illness when I bled heavily. The day they tossed me out like garbage, I saw the true face of this deceitful pair—the man who abandoned me for vanity, and the woman who exploited a fake pregnancy and staged car accidents to drain him of his last worth. But I didn’t die. Danny found me, half alive, and showed me what it feels like to be cherished. Now, standing on their ruins, those who hurt me have become the badges of my rebirth.

During the eight years I spent by Alpha David’s side, I also raised the pup he had with my late sister. At his birthday banquet, I accidentally wore one of her old dresses. Eight-year-old Dorian grabbed a pot of freshly brewed coffee and poured it over me— right in front of the maids. The scalding liquid burned my skin, and when I looked up, I saw the same cold disgust in his eyes that I’d seen so many times in his father’s. “How dare you wear my mother’s dress?” he sneered. “You’ll never replace her. You killed her with that wicked heart of yours!” The coffee seared more than my flesh. It burned straight through my heart. I looked at the child I’d raised for eight long years. I didn’t feel angry. I didn’t even feel sad. Only a quiet kind of exhaustion. “Don’t worry,” I whispered. “I’ll leave tomorrow.”

“Wendy, are you absolutely sure you want to sign this document?” The Elder’s voice rang in my ears—cold, distant. “Once your bond with Alpha John is dissolved, you’ll lose everything tied to the Blackthorn Pack.” I gripped the pen so hard my knuckles turned white. “Yes. I’m sure.” But just as the tip touched the paper— BANG! The door was kicked open with a violent crash. Alpha John stormed in, eyes bloodshot, and wrapped his hand around my throat. “You dare?!” Blood slipped from the corner of my lips… but I laughed. Because I knew—he would never discover the truth. That his dear uncle, Alpha Vincent, was hiding in my closet at this very moment. And the fresh bite mark on my lower belly… still burned from last night. As if fate was mocking me, my sweet little sister Penny sent a message right then: “Sis, wanna know a secret? That miscarriage you had? John planned it. He made it happen.” Then the TV flickered to life with a breaking live broadcast— There she was, Penny, gently stroking her swollen belly as she smiled into the camera. “John and I are expecting our baby next month,” she announced proudly to the entire Pack. And Alpha John—my “husband”—stood beside her, lovingly kissing her forehead. Like I never existed. Like I wasn’t the Luna written in law. “Miranda,” my wolf snarled in my head, “Rip those traitors apart—now!” But I didn’t. I wiped the blood from my mouth, and dialed the number I hadn’t called in five long years. “Vincent,” I said calmly, “Come get me.”

Five years ago, my Alpha parents rescued me from an orphanage and brought me home to the Blue Moon Pack. I thought my life was finally taking a turn for the better. I thought I was safe. But I was wrong. Yolanda McKinney—the fake heiress—conspired with rogue wolves to destroy me. They kidnapped me, ran over my legs with a car, breaking them, and left me battered and bleeding. When my parents and my childhood sweetheart, Joseph Delgado, found me lying in a pool of my own blood, their panic was unmistakable. They rushed me to the pack hospital, but the diagnosis was devastating: I might never walk again. Joseph proposed to me on the spot, vowing to stand by me through everything. My parents, furious at Yolanda's betrayal, promised swift justice. They assured me they had cut all ties with her, that she'd fled in guilt and drowned in a tragic accident. I believed them. I had to. For five years, I focused on recovery, trying to rebuild my shattered life. My marriage to Joseph was my anchor, the one thing I thought I could trust. Until the day I saw Yolanda McKinney alive. "You and Mom and Dad saved my life," she said smugly, her voice dripping with venom. "Without you, that pathetic cripple would’ve been the end of me." My blood ran cold as she continued. "But she never suspected, not even for a second, that you and I have a pup. Mom and Dad? They erased every trace, switched her meds for useless pills—hell, they even buried the evidence." Joseph's response shattered what little remained of my heart. "Don't make it sound so harsh," he murmured. "Marrying her was the only way I could keep sending those forgiveness letters. It was the only way to keep you and our son safe." Every word stabbed me like a blade. My marriage? A lie. My parents? Traitors who discarded me like trash. The justice they’d promised me? A farce. Fine. If I meant nothing to them, then they would mean nothing to me.

In the fifth year of my mating to Alpha Tom, his childhood sweetheart, Becky Bell, was splashed across every tabloid in the territory. Pregnant. Unmated. And accused of shattering another couple’s bond. The rumors hit like a rogue’s ambush. But it was his reaction that truly gutted me. “Becky’s father once saved me, she has no pack, no family left. Everything she’s accomplished… she clawed her way to it. Alone.” My fingers clenched tighter around the pregnancy test tucked away in my purse. “And the only way to protect her now,” he continued, not even looking me in the eye, “is for me to marry her. To claim the pup as mine.” “And what about me?” I asked, barely more than a whisper. My voice cracked. The Sunfire Pack and the Golden Fang Pack—my pack—had been allies for over a century. “How do I explain this sudScott rejection to my parents? To my pack? To the elders? They know we're mate bond.” Alpha Tom inhaled sharply. “Just tell them it was always a business arrangement. That there was no real love between us.” My wolf bared her teeth at that. He had the audacity to look away. “Once the media frenzy dies down, I’ll come for you. I’ll bring you back to Sunfire Pack and give you the grand wedding you deserve.” I stared at him. This Alpha—was seriously telling me he was going to marry another she-wolf, claim her pup, let me get torn apart by pack gossip and speculation, and then what? he's offering me his marriage like it’s some kind of charity? My fingers twitched, aching to throw the pregnancy test at him. But I didn’t. I laughed. For three years, I had been the one he discarded—over and over. And now, even my marriage was to be sacrificed for her sake. It hit me then, sharp and cold: It's time for me to leave him

"You're no daughter of this pack," my mother hissed, her golden eyes flashing in the firelight. "If you can't support your Alpha sister, then get out." I should have seen it coming. In the Ashveil Pack, family means everything—unless you're me. Vera Darkthorne, the disappointment. While my perfect sister Eris got the love, the title, even my mate Cain, I got a mating ceremony where nobody showed up. Not even the man who swore he'd always be mine. That night, I ran. Now I've built a new life in Berlin's underground werewolf syndicate, where strength is the only law that matters. I've learned to fight, to lead, to make wolves twice my size back down with just a look. But when a message comes that Eris's dying, the pack demands my return. "Come home, Vera," my father's voice crackles through the phone. "Your sister needs you." I almost laugh. After everything? But this time, I'm not the weak wolf they left behind. This time, I have fangs of my own. And when wolves hunt you down, you don't run—you rip their throats out first.

"This realm is your only chance of coming back to life in the mortal world, and if you attract those consequences, take note that you will die.” “Death?” I ask, mostly to myself. And to the voice, “What do you mean by 'I’m on my way to death'?” ~~~ Nova was having a bad day, and all she wanted was for the day to end already. But the universe seemed to have misunderstood her wish, because not only did her day not end, but she met with an accident that left her in a coma. As if that wasn't bad enough, she became trapped in a dimension between life and death, where she had to face a series of trials that would determine if she wakes... or fades from existence. Enter Zephyr, the spirit assigned to guide her to the light – her recovery. The spirit who never tried to disguise his want for her failure. The spirit she should've never fallen in love with. But in a world where survival is determined by the number of challenges a soul can conquer, the heart still found its way around love. With her complicated feelings in an already complicated world, Nova must decide what she's truly fighting for – her life, or the one being who's capable of ending it. *** In a short time, the remaining one hundred and twelve souls are pushed out. When we’re complete and standing, a voice – different from on the bus – greets us. “Welcome, Souls, to the survival games.”