Frozen Elsa Sick Novels & Stories

Ellie Reigns is the only child of her father, a notorious Mafia Boss. She was raised under a roof of strict rules and regulations. She is his prized possession, his precious rose. When Ellie’s mother gave birth to her, something tragic happened: she died minutes later, not even getting the chance to hold her child in her arms. Ellie is now 19 years old, yet her father keeps her hidden from the world, afraid that he would lose her as he did her mother. Because of this, she has zero experience with love. She is deprived of the normalcy of a teenager. A day came when Ellie got sick of being locked away from the outside world, and that was when she met Dexter Mill. He is known as a bad boy and a player, but to Ellie, he becomes known as the guy that took her breath away; the one that raised goosebumps on her skin. Dexter becomes known to her as the boy with mesmerizing eyes. Maybe it was love at first sight, but it only took a second for Ellie to see eternity in those green eyes of his.

Campus food deliveries vanished so often that no one even commented anymore. Then it happened to me again and again. I never identified the thief, but by New Year's Eve I was finished with being an easy mark. I set out a bowl of soup as bait and soaked it with water wrung from an old bathroom mop. I meant to make whoever stole it regret touching my food. A week later, the police did not come for the thief. They came for me. The counselor slid a penalty notice across his desk—600 dollars for food costs and medical fees, due next week. The person who ate my food had been hospitalized for "poisoning." The school was already discussing a major demerit, the cancellation of my first-class scholarship, and the loss of my needs-based stipend. That stipend was the money keeping my sick mother alive. They planned to pin everything on me, shield the real culprit, and bury me under paperwork. Unfortunately for them, they chose the wrong target. I was the law department's resident argument addict, and I intended to turn their dirty little mediation into a public collapse.

Fleurie Collison the average teenage girl who is eighteen years old. She has a family, and she is terrified of her family, her mom got sick with breast cancer and died right before Fleurie turn eight years old. A tiny little girl, she stopped talking when he started to abuse her, she can't trust, anyone, even the one she knows, cause they all betrayed her.Graysen Issak, the strongest and the most feared Alpha in the world. He is the Alpha of the Bloodlust pack, no one can stop him from getting what he wants. He is waiting for his luna, never touching a girl even though many of them throw themselves at him. Fleurie's father moves to another country cause her school notices the scars and bruises on her body. New school, more abuse. but what will happen when these two will meet each other when Graysen sees her bruise, he is willing to protect her cause overall she is his mute abused mate.

After Lilith died, my fated mate Darian hated me. "If it weren't for you, Lilith would still be alive. Why couldn't it have been you instead?" So he played the loving husband in public. And tortured me in secret. Until I finally died. I was reborn — back to before Lilith's death. This time, I wouldn't cling to Darian. I'd let him have Lilith. When he dropped my hand at my birthday ball and walked toward Lilith, I didn't beg. When he said my scent in the house made him sick, I moved out immediately. When he told me to stop standing between him and his true love, I severed the mate bond without a word and turned to another man. Later, I was walking down the street hand in hand with my new mate. Darian blocked our path like a man possessed, eyes rimmed red: "Grace, come back with me. I can forgive your little joke."

Jane Foster's twin sister was defiled and died before her wedding. Amidst her family's crisis, Jane was called to shed her armor and marry in her sister's place, thus becoming the country's queen. The tyrant king's first love was long dead. All the concubines in the harem were merely inferior distractions. The only person he adored was the royal concubine, Lady Helena, who resembled his first love the most. Meanwhile, Jane was nothing like his first love. Everyone thought the tyrant king would get sick of her and have her dethroned sooner or later. As expected, the king and the queen were on the verge of a divorce. However, instead of the queen being on the receiving end of the divorce, it was the king. That very night, the tyrant king tugged at the hem of Jane's dress. "You can leave, but only over my dead body!" The concubines were crying their eyes out while they stopped the tyrant king and called out to Jane, "Your Majesty, please don't leave us. If you must leave, take us with you!"

I sold my body to a Werewolf King to save my sister's life. The contract was simple: I become the silent, obedient wife of Kaelen, the most ruthless Alpha in the city, for five years. In return, he pays for the cure that will save her. He is a monster of ice and power, a king who rules from a skyscraper throne. I am just a human, a pawn in a game I don't understand. He thinks he owns me. He lays down the rules with a voice like frozen steel: Don't touch me. Don't ask questions. And never, ever look me in the eye. But the first time his skin brushes mine, a searing energy erupts between us. His cold control shatters, and for a single, terrifying second, his eyes flash with feral gold. He shoves me away like I’ve burned him, his snarl echoing through our gilded cage, "Get out!" Now, I'm trapped in his world of deadly pack politics and ancient magic. He's cruel, distant, and yet his gaze follows my every move, burning with a possessive fire that contradicts every word he says. I’ve just discovered the dangerous truth he’s been hiding: I am not just his purchased bride. I am his fated mate. And the powerful enemy hunting us has just found out that the key to destroying the Werewolf King… is me.

My father suffered a heart attack and collapsed. Emergency treatment required the installation of a cardiac stent. I asked my husband to approve an expense of 10 thousand dollars for the surgery. Cameron Lister, the CEO, refused coldly, "The company and family accounts have been frozen recently because of a major project. Your father has medical insurance, so just use a cost-effective domestic stent for now." He was the sole administrator of all the bank cards in my family. His reply made me sorrowfully realize something. Even though I was a genius architectural designer with an annual income of 600 thousand dollars, I was still not worthy of choosing a better life-saving device for my own father. It was a Twitter post forwarded by a colleague, freshly and gleefully posted by the company intern Wendy. [Cameron is so nice. I just said I liked painting, and he gave me a million dollars to organize an art exhibition. I love him so much!] I looked at my father lying on an extra bed in the hospital corridor, groaning in pain, and then looked at the photo of them sweetly embracing each other. I finally understood that Cameron had perhaps never truly loved me. He had only treated me as a stepping stone for his soaring career, and as a tool for him to exploit without limits. 'If this is what you want, Cameron, then don't blame me for being ruthless,' I said inwardly.

My mate, Kane Blackwood, was the most feared Alpha in the Northlands. For three years, he treated me like something that belonged to him. He would drag me into his arms on the stone steps after moon rituals, pin me against the wall in Blackthorn Keep’s long corridors, and bite the mark on the back of my neck beside the patrol trails in the border woods, as if he needed everyone to remember exactly whose Luna I was. I used to think that was his way of loving me. Rough. Possessive. Lacking tenderness. But love, all the same. Until one night, I stopped outside the council hall and heard an elder say in a furious voice, “Those charcoal sketches on the black market were released by your people, weren’t they? Every one of them is of you and Elena in bed. She has become a joke across the pack. Do you even understand what you’ve done?” There was a brief silence. Then Kane said, coldly, “She is the Luna the council chose for me. She is not the woman I wanted.” I stood frozen outside the door. All those years, I thought his roughness meant he loved me too fiercely to be gentle. But it was never love. It was humiliation. Punishment for taking the place of the woman he actually wanted. I lowered my eyes to the moonstone bracelet on my wrist, the one he had clasped there the day our mating contract was sealed. If that was all I had ever been to him, then I would leave.

At nine months pregnant, I suffered an unexpected miscarriage. My husband, Graham Pearson, fought back his own grief as he comforted me. He would whisper to me every day, trying to soothe my shattered heart, "Whitney, we will have children again someday. Our little angel was here for a while, and next time, we'll make sure we hold onto them..." Under Graham's careful care, I slowly began to pull myself out of the numb fog I'd been trapped in. But then, a month later, I overheard him talking to one of his friends. "If Whitney finds out the baby didn't actually die and that you've let Cassidy raise him, don't you think she'll flip out? You've worked so hard to get where you are; you can't let this mess it all up." Graham casually flicked his cigarette, his voice almost detached as he waved a hand dismissively. "Cassidy can't have kids, but she loves children. If this baby brings her joy, it's a blessing for the child, too. "I might never get the chance to be with Cassidy, but letting her raise my son, in some way, feels like a kind of fulfillment..." The truth hit me like a frozen wave, paralyzing me in place. It turned out this whole ordeal had been part of Graham's plan from the start.

My dad is a fan of tough love parenting. When I was a kid, there was a time when I obtained full marks on two subjects. But he told me, "Your grades don't mean anything in life. If you were a true man, you'd leap down five floors without batting an eyelash." Some time later, I was awarded for my act of bravery. But Dad scoffed in my face. "Not even a hair is harmed on your head. Why should you be awarded anyway?" I thought Dad wanted me to go through more training in life. On Christmas Eve, he ditched me on a snowy mountain under the guise of wanting me to go through more training. He didn't give me a tent or a lighter. Later on, Dad even brags about his parenting method to his relatives and friends. "A real man should survive and thrive in a desperate situation! I told Julian that he can forget about being my son if he can't even make his way back to the summit!" But the red dot on the GPS tracker installed in his phone hasn't moved for the past three hours. The truth is, I've already frozen to death in the mountains. Trapped in my fist is a crumpled, torn scrap of paper. Meanwhile, my soul is currently floating above the dining table while watching Dad brag about his tough love parenting.