Gojo Bleeding Novels & Stories

In my past life, my mate Marcus ran off to the forest to make love with my best friend Scarlett, who was eight-month pregnant. That’s when they'd be surrounded by a pack of rogue wolves. Scarlett, heavy with child, started bleeding heavily. Both of them desperately called for the Border Guard. As the Chief Warrior, I had risked everything to fight those rogue wolves. But Scarlett still died along with her unborn pup. My mate Marcus led others to accuse me of using my position for personal revenge. He personally severed both my hands with a silver blade. "A warrior without morals like you deserves to burn in hell!" he snarled. But I remembered clearly—when I drove off the rogues and got the pack healer to Scarlett, she barely had a scratch on her. Finally, Scarlett's parents arrived. I begged them to examine her body and investigate the truth. Instead, they reported to Alpha that I had neglected my duties. They claimed I was high on wolfsbane while guarding the border. Alpha exiled me for fifteen years. With both hands severed, I had no way to fight or shift properly. I survived by begging scraps from neighboring territories. Fifteen years later, I returned to the pack. I saw my mate Marcus walked through the airport's first-class terminal with Scarlett and their son. They were using my inheritance to fund their luxury vacation to the Maldives. They spotted me. Without hesitation, they pushed me into a silver pit to destroy all evidence. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day Scarlett faked her death. This time, I took one look at the scene and declared them beyond saving. I told my assistant to send them to bury them directly.

"What the fuck—” I started. He looked up at me. His lips were wet, swollen. He licked them slowly, like he was savoring the taste. “Keep your hands where I left them,” he said. My jaw clenched. My knuckles went white against the bedsheets. I didn’t speak. I just watched him. He lowered his mouth again, slower this time. His tongue circled the tip, then slid down the side. I felt every second of it. Every inch. He paused halfway down and looked up at me again. “You like this too much.” My throat tightened. I didn’t answer. “Bet you’ve never let anyone make you beg.” *** Callum Kesington isn’t just a billionaire CEO. He doesn’t believe in love. He believes in control and power.But when his estranged brother resurfaces through a cryptic call, dragging him into a trail of files, threats, and old betrayals, everything he's built starts to crack. Remy Beckett, a rising star in the culinary world, is no strang to love but one man has him unraveled. A single dinner at Remy’s restaurant ignites an attraction that shakes Callum’s carefully guarded world. He’s never wanted a man before. Never craved the scrape of stubble against his skin or the heat of rough hands pinning him down. But Remy? He’s all Callum can think about. A shadowy attack leaves Remy bleeding in Callum’s arms, and suddenly, this isn’t about desire. It's about survival. Someone wants Remy dead, and Callum’s brother is at the center of it. Now, Callum must confront the ruthless empire he built, the family who betrayed him, and the truth he’s been denying.

I kept on running with Kay as we manoeuvred our way through the messy crowd. Kay pulled me through and we finally got out of the club. We couldn't take the main entrance because Yoshim's men were there. We were running through the dark alley, panting and gasping for air. Relief washed over me when I realised that I finally left that hell hole. We kept on running when I heard a gunshot. I immediately halted and felt a warm liquid trickling down my arm. I looked around and saw no wound, I glanced at Kay and my eyes widened. I immediately brought my hand to my mouth trying to suppress the scream that wanted to come out. Kay held his arm as he bled profusely, he groaned in pain and fell on his knees. “Oh my God, Kay are you alright? Ugh, what am I going to do.” I said while hyperventilating. I heard footsteps and looked up only to be met by those same devilish eyes. He wore a grin on his face. And to his left was Gail who clung to him like a barnacle. How did he even know I escaped? “Haha, I overheard your little conversation with the guard, so I told Yoshim.” She smiled while talking. “Gail, what the is wrong with you?” I said with anger and tears in my eyes. She shrugged her shoulders and her mouth curved into a smile. I pressed my hand on Kay's wound to stop the bleeding, he groaned in pain and I couldn't stop my tears. “I should've gotten rid of you a long time ago.” Yoshim said while pointing a gun to my head. I closed my eyes and waited for him to pull the trigger.

‎FBI profiler Sara Mitchell doesn't believe in monsters. ‎Until one attacks her. ‎Bleeding and dying in a dark forest, Sara is saved by a massive black wolf with glowing eyes. The wolf shifts into a gorgeous naked man named Roman Volkov. The Alpha of Thornridge Pack. Powerful. Ruthless. Haunted by the death of his fated mate three years ago. Their laws are absolute, one mate per lifetime, no exceptions, no second chances. Until Sara. The mate bond hits him at the chest instant, violent, impossible to ignore. His wolf doesn't care about laws. It wants her. It claims her. And it will burn everything down before it lets her go. But Sara has bigger problems than a werewolf who looks at her like she's the answer to a prayer he stopped saying. The monster hunting her isn't random. It's Marcus Webb her former partner, the man she thought died two years ago. He transformed into something ancient and hungry and obsessed, and he wants Sara to become exactly what he is. His hunting partner. His weapon. Trapped between a mate bond pulling her toward the most dangerous man she's ever met and a creature wearing her dead partner's face, Sara faces the choice that will define everything. Run back to the human life that was already half a lie. Or fight for the supernatural world that might be her only real home. Roman's pack doesn't want her. The supernatural world wants her dead. And the mate bond grows stronger every day whether she accepts or not. Some bonds are written in fate, others are forged in blood, fire, and the kind of choice that costs everything. Sara Mitchell is about to find out what she's truly made of. The answer will change both their worlds forever.

My name is Melanie Sutton. The moment I'm reborn, the first thing I do is scatter the "ashes" of my best friend, Helen Doyle. In my last life, she got pregnant before marriage and was abandoned by both her boyfriend and her family. She struggled alone all the way through childbirth, only to suffer massive bleeding in the delivery room. With her last breath, she begged me to adopt her son. I agreed out of pity. To raise the child, I fell behind in my studies and was forced to drop out of school. With no choice, I took my adopted son, Aidan Sutton, with me to work, enduring endless humiliation and cold stares. Finally, when he turned 18, a talent scout discovered him. One movie later, he became an overnight sensation and won Best Actor. At the awards ceremony, Helen, whom I watched die 18 years ago, entered arm in arm with my ex-boyfriend, Joe Shepherd. Stunned, I rushed forward to confront her. She only smiled at me. "Congratulations, you passed the test." I stood there in shock as Joe explained proudly, "Helen is the daughter of the richest man. Who knows if you got close to her for her money? "Since you've raised our son well, you can be her ordinary friend. If you raise him until he gets married and has kids, then you can become Helen's best friend." My mind exploded. As if I wanted to be her friend. That was 18 years of my life! Overwhelmed by fury and hurt, I lunged at the two of them with bloodshot eyes. But Aidan suddenly rushed down from the stage and shoved me hard. "Are you crazy? How dare you hurt my parents?" Anger rushed to my head, and I passed out right then and there. When I open my eyes again, I'm back to the day Helen goes into labor.

“Is trusting you a sin?” Hannah asked. “It wouldn't have been a sin if you were nothing but sand under my feet. You’ve always had it all—the grades, the charm, the spotlight. Teachers adored you. Boys wanted you. Even James, the only one I ever looked at like that, fell for you despite your boring look.” Her best friend’s laugh was dry. Cruel. Hannah’s heart squeezed, her breath catching in her throat. “You think you’ve won?” she said, voice shaking. “Because you slept with my husband and fed him lies?” “I don’t think, Hannah. I won.” “You didn’t win. You settled. You crawled into my leftovers and tried to wear my skin like it would turn you into something better—but it didn’t.” --- On her first wedding anniversary, Hannah Reyes was drugged—by her husband and her best friend. The betrayal shattered her world, and cost her the one thing she was holding onto: her unborn child. The next day, still lying in a hospital bed, her husband handed her divorce papers... then ordered her thrown out. Lost, bleeding, and alone, she was hit by a car. But fate wasn’t done with her yet. The driver? Matthew DeLacruz—her husband’s former friend, now bitter enemy, and a man he once scammed. And Matthew made her an offer she couldn’t ignore: "Be my vice president, and I’ll help you destroy him." What began as revenge turned into something else, something thrilling, empowering, and dangerously beautiful. And just when she thought she had nothing left to lose, Matthew made her a different offer: Marriage. Now Hannah must ask herself: Can she truly trust again? Or will this new beginning become just another ending?

Crimson Bloomed: Ascend Post - Apocalyptic Horror | Action | Yuri Harem | Coming - of - Age | Rated R | Mature Content | Slow Burn The city looked like it had been devoured — chewed up by fire, time, and whatever came after — then spit back out in jagged pieces. Dead drones dangled from power lines like rusted ornaments. Neon signs flickered above fractured pavement, their broken scripts glitching into gibberish. Down the block, a half - melted smartcar burned slow, casting warped shadows across the skeletal remains of a coffee bar. Behind a crumpled tram car, someone crouched low, breath tight in her lungs. The shrieking hadn’t stopped. It came again — sharp, bone-deep, the kind of sound that latched onto your spine and refused to let go. She checked the signal jammer at her hip. Still blinking. Still active. Not for long. They were tracking her. She moved fast — boots silent over broken glass, slipping through the breach in an old laundromat’s wall. Her body moved from muscle memory now: slide through, duck left, over the washer, don’t look at the corpse slumped by the dryer. Out the back. Up the fire escape. On the rooftop, she halted. Not alone. Someone was already there — silhouetted against the bleeding sunset. Combat jacket. Short - cropped hair. Pulse rifle slung casually over one shoulder like it weighed nothing. Like this was just another rooftop, just another war. “Don’t move,” the voice snapped. She lifted her hands slowly. “I’m clean.” “Everyone says that.” “Scan me.” beat. Then the girl stepped forward, rifle still raised but gaze locked in. Dark eyes, sharp, searching — not just for weapons, but tells. Fear. Lies. She lowered the rifle half an inch. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” That wasn’t the line she expected.

Completely frozen and horrified, her watery eyes were staring at that bleeding dead body in front of her. She couldn't just believe he had just killed someone in front of her so brutally, just because she dared to talk to that person and not any person, but his own wife's brother. "Now, you will forever remember…never to get closer to any other man," she heard him whispering those words in her ear. His blood stained hands gripped her waist more firmly which made her finally look at him. "He was your wife's brother. H..he was your family," she stuttered, disgusted by this brutal monster on whose embrace she was captured now. A feral smirk ghosted on his face. "You needed to think about this before getting closer to him," he brought his face closer to her. Her glossy eyes filled with more disgust, hatred and anger for this barbaric animal before her. "You shouldn't have forgotten that…." Sensually grazing his lips against hers, he peered into her watery eyes. "You are my possession," his words made her fists her palms, especially when she felt his hand opening the zip of her gown. He would again taint her by claiming her body as his. "I am your sole possessor, cara mia," he grinned, sadistically before completely undoing her gown's zipper. She just helplessly stood in his embrace. "Now be a good girl and let me have you again…." hotly murmuring that, he captured her mouth in his and freed her from her clothes and she was not capable of doing anything to stop that sinner from committing that sin with her again because she was…..HIS SINFUL POSSESSION……. Why was she committing that sin of letting a married man have his sinful possession over her? Read to find out…

Sienna Calloway has spent her entire life running. City to city, commitment to commitment, never staying long enough to leave a mark. At twenty-six, she's a professional stunt woman with nerves of steel and a philosophy built on one word: freedom. The moment life demands permanence, the walls close in. So she keeps moving. Until she crashes a motorcycle onto the wrong property at seventy miles per hour. Dante Moretti does not make mistakes. The cold-hearted kingpin of Chicago's underworld operates with surgical precision and ruthlessness honed over a lifetime of calculated decisions. He rules through fear. Fear has never failed him. Until a bleeding, furious stunt woman limps toward his car and tells him exactly what she thinks of him. He should make her disappear. Instead, he offers her a choice: work for him, or vanish permanently. He needs someone fearless, trained, and reckless enough to survive what he's planning. Someone who doesn't scare easily. Sienna should say no. Everything in her screams to run. But for the first time, running means leaving something she cannot bear to lose. What begins as a transaction becomes something neither of them anticipated. Dante discovers that control is an illusion when the person you're trying to control refuses to fear you. She challenges everything he thought he believed. Makes him want things he cannot have. Makes him want to be someone other than what he's become. Sienna discovers that freedom doesn't always mean escape. Sometimes it means standing still. Sometimes it means letting someone in, even when that someone could destroy you. But loving Dante Moretti means becoming a target. And to save her, he'll have to do the one thing he swore he'd never do. Let someone close enough to break him.

A blizzard erupted without warning, and the glacial mountains began to collapse. My instinct screamed at me to shift and run, to let my Inner Wolf take over and flee—but it was too late. The storm swept in, laced with a strange silver dust that hung heavy in the air. It was like an invisible chain, binding me tightly, locking away my wolf. Worse still, my strength was nearly gone. As captain of the Silvermoon Patrol, I had been out on the tundra all night. Hours ago, I had fought off a vicious ambush by Rogues, and my body still bore the wounds—deep, bleeding, and far from healed. I could feel it: my wolf energy had been pushed past its limit. Maxin, my Inner Wolf, was silent now, his strength depleted and unresponsive. My limbs were going numb, my body sinking into the snow as the roar of the wind drowned everything else out. But I wasn’t afraid. Because I knew he would come. My boyfriend—the head of the tribe's Search and Rescue Unit—had never failed a mission. I believed with all my heart that he would find me. And yet… he didn’t come himself. He sent a rookie instead, while he went after Daisy, whom he believed had been caught in an avalanche. But Daisy hadn’t been in danger at all. She merely wanted a dramatic way to confess her love to him. Three days later, Xander finally found me, buried deep beneath the frozen layers. He froze at the sight—my body, encased in ice, unmoving. He couldn’t believe it: the fierce, relentless warrior he knew, dead beneath the snow. He reached out to touch me… but the ice cracked. And before he could react, my body slipped into the depths of the glacier, vanishing into the abyss.