Gojo Family Tree Novels & Stories

My mate Fenris and my brother Caspian are the two most powerful Alphas in the Southern Territory. They used to spoil me rotten, and I was once the most cherished princess of the pack. But then I was thrown into prison and tortured for two long years. Three years ago, I was attacked by rogues and nearly died of silver poisoning. Selene stepped forward and claimed she was willing to undergo a full blood transfusion to save me. I survived, but Selene lost her wolf in the process and became a mere Omega. From that day on, Fenris and Caspian brought Selene home, swearing to treat her like their own sister. At first, I was grateful to her. But slowly, she started "accidentally" falling whenever we were alone. When Fenris and Caspian would come running, she’d cry and tell them it must have been an accident, begging them not to blame me. I tried to explain myself, but Fenris and Caspian never believed me.

In this lifetime, Lyana Coiningan, the widow, laments about how envious she is about my bedroom by telling Alpha Theron Ulrick, "Luna Astra's bedroom is so huge and beautiful! If Dexter could stay here, he'd definitely forget all about the sorrow caused by his father's death…" While Theron is still hesitant about giving my bedroom away, I've already taken the initiative to pack up my things and give it to Lyana. On the coldest day of winter, Lyana's son, Dexter Ulrick, suddenly wails and complains about how cold the weather is. He then demands to have my son, Cayden Ulrick's fur cloak. Cayden doesn't hesitate to take off the cloak and give it to him. Everyone in the Silverfrost pack says, "Luna Astra is the embodiment of the Moon Goddess. She knows when to let others have all the good things. On top of that, she doesn't fight over anything with anyone else. Even her son is as understanding and demure as she is." Theron compliments us on how understanding we've become as well. But what they don't know is that I've already bought flight tickets in preparation to leave the Silverfrost pack. Once I get my hands on the mate bond dissolution potion, I'll be able to take Cayden to a land far, far away from this place. In my previous life, Theron had neglected Cayden and me forever because of Lyana and Dexter. He even passed his assets to them after his death. Now that we get a second chance in the same lifetime, both Cayden and I don't want to have anything to do with Theron anymore.

To get a divorce from Dante Conti, I volunteered to walk away with nothing—even our three-year-old son. Seeing that I had deliberately changed back into the old clothes I wore before marriage, Dante froze for a moment, then sneered, "So? You don't even want Nico, the heir you fought so hard to give birth to?" "Careful. Play your part too long, and you won't be able to recover the scene," he warned. I pushed the signed agreement toward him. "Don't worry. This isn't acting." Dante shot me a puzzled look before signing his name. "So obedient? Fine. I'll be magnanimous and let you see Nico from time to time." He set down the pen, his gaze appraising me. "And if you regret it… come to me now, and maybe—just maybe—we could remarry—" I cut him off, standing and walking away without a word. He had thought I married him for the Mafia's power, that's why I had given him an heir to inherit his family. But once he knows I'm dead, there will be no more misunderstandings.

After being missing for 18 years, Mom and Dad finally found me. Jillian Swain, the fake heiress, crumples to the floor and starts sobbing. "Goodbye, Mom and Dad. Thanks for taking care of me all these years. But now that Wanda is home, I'm sure you don't have any use for me anymore." Mom and Dad hug her, completely heartbroken. "Sweetheart, don't talk like that! You're our only real daughter, now and always!" Even Harvey Schumer, the guy I was promised to as a kid, declares his love for her. "Forget who you really are. You're the only one I love." They're all tripping over each other to fuss over Jillian. They even throw a birthday celebration for her dog while I'm barely hanging on after a car crash. So I pack up my things, accept the space agency's offer, and slip away into a five-year confidential satellite research project. But the whole family freaks out the second I'm gone, turning the country upside down, searching for me.

My brother, Theo Sorento, died in a plane crash on his way back home just to celebrate my birthday. They never found his body—only wreckage. Ever since, my parents forced me to kneel in front of his grave every year on my birthday, demanding that I repent for surviving when he didn’t. Then came my eighteenth birthday. I realized someone was following me. Panicked, I sent a few messages asking for help. Just then, Mom called, not to check on me but to lash out. “I know exactly what you're doing. You’re just making up excuses so you don’t have to kneel in front of your brother’s grave! You’re a liar. Why wasn’t it you who died instead of him? You’re a walking curse!” Before my phone was smashed under a boot, the last thing I heard was the cold click of her hanging up. Then, I was cut up into pieces, and what was left of me was tossed across the city. My father, the lead forensic pathologist on my case, didn’t even recognize me. Later, Theo returned alive with his wife, whom he had eloped with eight years ago. When they found out the pile of rotting flesh was me, they all went insane.

My father was a senior HR executive. He used KPIs to define my life. "Rank top ten in your grade, and I'll give you a B, with a bonus of 250 dollars. "Place in a state-level competition, and you'll get an A, with a bonus of 500. "If your SAT score hits Ivy-level, I'll give you an S+ and a 5,000-dollar year-end bonus." I studied as if my life depended on it, and in the end, I got the acceptance letter. My father slapped a contract down in front of me instead. "Congratulations on onboarding into the next phase. Starting today, your allowance will be structured as base salary plus performance plus attendance bonus. "Base pay is 250 dollars a month, enough to keep you from starving. "To prepare you for a high-pressure work environment, I’ll conduct random inspections. Fail, and your pay gets docked." When I ran a 104°F fever, he cut my attendance bonus, saying my physical resilience didn't meet standards. When I forgot to submit a weekly report because I was buried in schoolwork, he froze all my money. To stay alive, I went behind his back and sold blood at the hospital. At the end of the semester, I held my transcript and scholarship certificate, thinking I had finally earned the highest rating. But my father looked at me without a trace of warmth. "Your S+ bonus has been reallocated. The company decided to invest it in your brother, Harry. He has more potential." I looked at the 100-dollar "consolation prize" he handed me and laughed. So in his company, I didn't even qualify as an "outstanding employee."

I was born broken. My Alpha mother was the one who branded me. She said emotion was a sin. A weakness. Especially for a werewolf. Especially for an Alpha’s heir. The day we were born, she clamped emotion-suppressing collars around our necks. Mine and my twin sister's. The slightest flicker of emotion, and the collar flashed red. My mother would then push the button, injecting me with a diluted "silver solution" to suppress my feelings. But my sister Cassia's collar? Always a calm, steady blue. Even when she shattered Mom's precious moonstone, it just pulsed gently. And me? I’d just whisper, "Mom, the thunder scares me," and my collar would erupt in a violent red. Then came the sting of silver poison burning through my blood.. I used to argue. But Mom always said the same thing. "The data doesn't lie. Pain is a teacher. This is for your own good." After thousands of these injections, I started to believe it, too. That I was born out of control. The night of the alliance's Moon Goddess Festival, Mom was taking my sister to the rooftop party. Something scared me during the day. The collar flashed red, and my mother started the punishment. But this time, the collar malfunctioned. It shot a dose a thousand times stronger into my neck. I collapsed on the carpet, begging, "Mother, the collar... it hurts so much... help me." My collar was flashing a frantic red. My mother just looked down at me, drenched in a cold sweat, and pressed the button for the maximum dose. "You'd lose control like this just for attention? You're a lost cause." She turned, took my sister, and slammed the door. I couldn't help but think, Mom must be right. The collar is red. It doesn't really hurt. I'm just being dramatic, looking for pity again. I'm sorry, Mom. In my next life, I'll be the perfect daughter you always wanted.

Seven years ago, I swap my heart with Orion Gifford, the cyborg replica of me that my sister, Mildred Gifford, creates. However, my heart frequently gives him chest pains because of organ rejection. Mildred blames everything on me. She believes I have hidden a preexisting heart condition and have given away a defective human heart in exchange for a mechanical heart worth millions. So, she sues me for fraud and sends me a court summons. But on the day of the hearing, I don't show up. To force me out of hiding, she publicly announces to the media that she is officially taking Orion as her younger brother and leaving all her assets to him. When I still fail to appear, Mildred loses her patience and goes to the workplace address I leave behind. She steps into a sketchy factory and grabs a random worker to ask, "Do you know Zachary Gifford?" My factory supervisor, Greg Mathews, stares at her in shock and says, "Zachary? He died three years ago from sudden cardiac arrest. It was awful! His body got pulled into one of the machines. There was basically nothing left of him."

In the final seven days after I decided to depart for good, I transformed into the daughter my family had always dreamed of. I conceded to Remy's every whim, never to fight or deny her. When she wanted to use my work for a contest, I deferred. When she wanted me out in the frost and howling wind, I did just that. My quiet compliance led my family to think that I had learned the error of my ways. "You've finally accepted that you owe Remy so much, and that you have to compensate her!" Even until the end, they never understood why I couldn't care less. "Fiona, why aren't you saying anything?" To that, I could only smile. "Isn't this what you've always wanted?"

My four-year-old son dies after someone crashes into him with a motorcycle. The culprit is a college freshman who's just been admitted. I'm devastated, but my husband generously forgives her. "We have to give her a chance since she's such an outstanding student. She's still young—we can't ruin her future." Ha. She has plenty of opportunities and a bright future ahead of her. What about my son? He was only four. Later, I rip his letter of forgiveness to pieces before his face. He wants me to forgive the young lady? No way in hell!