Goku Cry Novels & Stories

My dad, Frank Stanford, was an Alpha. I, Lana Stanford, was his only daughter. The year I turned eighteen, he told me to choose a mate from the nine werewolf warriors he had taken in. I avoided Simon Eaton, the one I used to be obsessed with. In my previous life, I was kidnapped by rogues on the very day of my marking ceremony. When they drove silver nails soaked in wolfsbane through my palms, I endured the agony and sent a desperate plea through our mind link. “Simon, help me.” All I got back was his cold response. “Lana Stanford, are you done yet? Is this another lame trick of yours? “You actually hurt yourself just to get me to come see you? You're disgusting.” I closed my eyes in despair. As the silver cage sank into the frozen lake, icy water filled my lungs. My wolf let out a final, broken cry and died with me. When I woke up again, I'd returned to the day my dad asked me to choose a mate. This time, the very first thing I did was cross Simon’s name off the list. Later, he stood in front of me with tearful eyes and asked why I hadn’t chosen him. I didn’t answer. I just looked at him strangely. “Simon, this time, I did exactly what you wanted. Why are you crying again?”

“I love beautiful and strong women. You're just not cut to be my Luna.” “T-Then,” I stuttered, wincing in pain. “Why hurt me at every chance you get? I understand I'm nothing more to you than a worthless slave but still, I don't deserve to be treated this way.” Alpha Gunner approached me, hovering over me with his towering height. “What are you talking about? I've grown fond of you since I bought you. Causing you great pains gives me a satisfying sense of pleasure I've never felt before. I enjoyed torturing you, so much Kylie.” My eyes widened at his words.... He enjoys my suffering. It boosts his dopamine when I bleed and cry my eyes out. “I don't want this anymore, Alpha Gunner,” I said, feeling tears rolling down my eyes. “It's best you kill me now. Just end my suffering.” “I won't kill you,” he snarled, lifting my face with his index finger to meet his eyes. “I'll keep using you until I find my Luna. Then, and only then will your usefulness come to an end.” Cruel. Those were the cruelest words he had ever said to me.

“It looks like you already came, that’s how wet you are.” He observes in a monotone voice. I swore, I choked on my breath. A cry left my lips as his cold fingers pinched on both my nipples. He pulled my already riled up dress over my head and my breast bounced free. He pulled me up and bend me over, so my face was now pressing against the bed. He grips my hips and pull them up higher against his cook, I arched my back further. I can feel the heat of his cock directly, I’m completely naked before him while he’s still clothed. ••• Zara slept with a stranger in the dark. A deliberate act she meant to remember. A man she never meant to see again. Until Zara learns the truth. Matteo doesn’t ask. He takes. Power clings to him like a second skin—cold eyes, lethal calm, and a presence that makes disobedience feel impossible. He should have erased her from his mind the moment he learned she was his step-sister. Instead, he claims her in silence. Guilt pulls her away. Desire drags her back. And in Matteo’s world, love isn’t gentle—it’s possession, control, and hunger sharpened into obsession Some mistakes don’t fade. They become sins.

When news of my arranged fiancee's death arrived, I didn't cry or make a scene. Instead, I quickly reclaimed her shares and had the death certificate issued. I did it because I've been reborn. In my past life, Dad was worried that women would eye my fortune as the heir to the wealthiest family. So, he arranged for me to marry one of three women he personally picked. I chose the most outstanding one, Monica Harris, and married her. However, just three days after our wedding, she died suddenly. Heartbroken, I was persuaded by the remaining two women to give up on marriage and remain single for life. At 80 years old, when I returned to our special place in Sunmere Valley to reminisce, I saw Monica. She should have been dead for 60 years! She stood beside Liam Rogers, my driver who'd gone missing decades ago, surrounded by their children and grandchildren, living a picture-perfect life. I realized I'd been deceived my entire life. The shock sent my blood pressure soaring, and I died of a stroke on the spot. When I opened my eyes again, I was transported back to the day I died. This time, I'm going to find out exactly how someone who's supposedly dead keeps on living.

On my eighth Mate-Marking anniversary, I had carefully prepared a special celebration ceremony. My Alpha mate, Derek, told me the pack had an emergency and the ceremony was canceled. When I arrived at the venue, I was shocked to see the ceremony proceeding as planned. Scarlett, once my best friend, was walking hand-in-hand with Derek onto the ceremonial platform. Her daughter and my son were being led by their hands, one child with each adult. The four of them stood closely together while other pack members, unaware of the truth, praised them: "The Alpha of Shadow Pack and his mate look so happy together." I stood up in the crowd and applauded: "I didn't know Shadow Pack had replaced their Luna with an Omega. They make such a perfect couple." The next moment, Scarlett's face turned pale as she collapsed on the platform. I ignored the chaos and walked straight home. The following day, Derek stormed back home and confronted me: "Scarlett's condition has barely improved. Why did you have to provoke her?" My son pushed me and accused: "It's all your fault! You made little Emma cry!" I pulled out the mate-bond dissolution agreement and threw it in their faces: "Yes, it's my fault. So I'm stepping out. Now you four can be one happy family." But my mate and son suddenly began to panic.

Two weeks ago, my family and I went hiking and camping. When the storm hit and the mudslide erupted, my adopted sister shoved me into a ravine. My parents and fiance only cared about my sister. They remained completely unaware of my predicament. A week later, when the rescue team finally finds me, my parents accuse me of being selfish and malicious.—— "You clearly know that your sister is suffering from a terminal illness and is about to die, yet you still try to murder her!" they yell. "The bride for next week's wedding will be your sister. She has end-stage kidney cancer, and her dying wish is to marry your fiancé.Ethan. You have to agree to this!" "I agreed to their wedding, and for atonement. I am willing to donate my kidney to my sister, and I will also give her all the academic papers I own and the oil paintings I have collected." Seeing how sensible I was, my parents and my fiance all smiled with relief. They said, "I've grown up and become sensible. I'm no longer that willful elder sister who didn't know how to care for my younger sister." In my final three days, I will give them everything they want and leave behind a perfect image. And when I die, I hope they won't cry, mourn my death；

The night I got into Cambridge University, we were supposed to celebrate. Instead, I ended up in Gilbert’s bed—my older brother from next door, the man I had secretly loved for years. The mafia kingpin of the Veronatri. We used protection. It didn’t matter. I still got pregnant. In my past life, I relied on our child to marry him as I wished, but I was also forever barred from Cambridge University. Gilbert cornered me on our wedding night, his breath shallow, eyes wild— “You drugged me, didn’t you?” “Admit it. There’s no other reason I would’ve wanted you like that.” “You’re shameless, Julian. You will never touch me again in this lifetime!” From then on, he used every means possible to humiliate me. He even secretly transplanted our daughter’s heart into his first love’s daughter. While he and his first love celebrated the success of the surgery, I clutched my daughter’s ashes and died on the way to the cemetery. When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn to that night of utter absurdity. This time, I didn’t cry, I didn’t beg— I just walked away to Cambridge, and he went mad trying to find me.

After five years of marriage, Melody finally realized—she had never truly married anyone. The marriage certificate was forged. Her husband, Adam, was legally wed to her best friend, Lily. And Melody? She had been the most innocent pawn in a meticulously crafted deception. The betrayals didn’t stop there. Her supposed infertility was a lie, and the child she had poured her love into raising was, in fact, Adam and Lily’s biological son. Five years of devotion—through their eyes, she had served only three purposes: a free housekeeper, a cheap business partner, and a disposable pawn. She had believed in love. That, above all, was her greatest folly. Yet Melody didn’t break. She didn’t cry, and she didn’t beg. Instead, she turned her gaze to the man who struck fear into the entire business world—Kiel Summers. Rumor had it he was ruthless, even deadly, and that any woman who became his companion ended up either dead or insane. Still, she walked into his office—and struck a deal. She offered him dignity; he offered her protection. Each got what they needed, with no promises of love. A cold, enigmatic man in a world full of danger. A clear-eyed, independent woman, scarred by betrayal yet still capable of kindness. Two broken souls, sharing the same fortress, bound by a single contract.

In my ninth year of being with Tyler Freeman, he flaunts his relationships with other women while I'm only allowed to come and go from his bedroom. He doesn't acknowledge me as his girlfriend, yet he allows his friends to address me as such. I have a name but not an identity. His friends are bored during a private party and want me to perform a strip dance on stage to liven things up. I expect Tyler to at least turn them down on my behalf, but all he does is sip his wine and say, "Go on. You're the owner of this place, aren't you? Aren't clubs supposed to satisfy their patrons' needs? Don't let my friends down!" I look at him emotionlessly. I don't cry or throw a fuss. Instead, I splash a glass of liquor in his face. The following day, I trash the club. Three months later, Tyler finally thinks of calling me. "Where are you? Aren't you gonna get the hell back here? Do you really expect me to beg you to come back? Do you think you're worthy of that?" I pull my newlywed husband to the camera. "Sorry, Mr. Freeman. I'm getting married. You don't need to come, but do get me a wedding gift." Unexpectedly, he threatens to show my husband intimate videos of me when he sees me in a wedding gown.

Mom always said my entire life ran on luck. When I ranked first in my class, she said, "You just guessed really well." When I won a gold medal, she said, "The judges must've been blind." When I got into Westridge University, she told everyone, "This kid has no real ability, just good luck!" So on my first day of college, she tossed me a book of scratch cards. "Since your luck's so good anyway, might as well let it handle your living expenses too. "You get one book per semester. However much you scratch off is all you get. "And just so you can't come crying to me about being broke, I'm blocking you now. I'll add you back next semester." With that, she ignored every one of my desperate pleas and blocked me on every single platform. I wanted to cry but could not even manage tears. All I could do was scratch two cards every day. On good days, I would win 20 to 50 dollars. Most days, I won absolutely nothing. I survived by sneaking expired cookies out of my roommates' trash. By the last week of the semester, I had developed severe anemia. As I used every ounce of strength to scratch the final card, I laughed. Mom was right. My luck really was incredible.