Romans & histoires Good Werewolf

The day the campus queen got caught shoplifting at the convenience store, I was reborn. This time, instead of pulling her into the back room for a private talk, I called the cops without a second thought. The cops locked up my childhood sweetheart, the campus goddess Samantha Creighton, for fifteen days. During those fifteen days, I cut every tie between us. After that, I dodged her completely. Whenever she organized a class gathering, I fell deathly ill. Whenever she traveled to the southern coast, I flew to the far northwest. When she went to a reunion, I got sick. When she went home, I went abroad. When she returned to school, I dropped out. I avoided every situation that might bring me near her. In my past life, I loved her for twenty years. But in all that time, she never once treated me with any real kindness. I finally found out why during a fire at our house. I held her and our daughter outside the window, shielding them until rescue came. They got out without a scratch. But my entire body was burned beyond recognition. Then my own daughter—the one I raised with everything I had—pulled her mother's one true love close and said, "He deserves this. Back then, he tore you and Mom apart. He should die for it." My wife stood beside them and sobbed uncontrollably. "I almost thought I'd never see you again." I died full of hatred. Now that I'd been given a second chance… since she loved her first love that much, I'd make sure they could stay together.

One week before our marking ceremony, my Alpha Mate, Corey Black, looks me straight in the eye and says something unbelievable, "I want to have a pup with my long-time friend Willow." At first, I assume it's a terrible joke, but I see determination in his serious expression. I suppress the churning feeling in my stomach and ask him why. He sighs, his gaze gentle as if he's soothing an unreasonable child. "Willow's old Beta father is dying. His only dying wish is to see Willow have a pup. We're doing it through IVF, so it won't hurt our relationship. "Her father devoted his entire life to the pack. You wouldn't refuse to fulfill even his dying wish, would you? You wouldn't be that cruel, right?" I don't know how to respond. He speaks as if not letting my fated mate have a pup with another woman is selfish. Later, when I go to visit the gravely ill old Beta, Corey is holding Willow Lester in his arms. His hand gently strokes her hair as he lets her sob against his chest. The moment our eyes meet, pain strikes my very soul. My wolf lets out a desperate howl of anguish. I stumble away, only to receive a text from him on the day of our marking ceremony. "Honey, Willow and I are undergoing the IVF procedure. Let's postpone the ceremony for now." I stare blankly at those words, my hand unconsciously moving to my still-flat stomach. Since he wants so badly to have a pup with another woman, I will grant his wish and disappear with my pup.

My parents adopted a kid, and I treated him like treasure. Then he started looking uncannily like my husband, Brian. And I caught him whispering "Mom" to my sister, Ruby. Yeah. Plot twist: Brian had been cheating on me the whole time. With Ruby. They played house behind my back, smiling for family pics—with my parents' blessing. When the truth blew up, Ruby had the audacity to beg me to step aside. My parents told me to get over it. And that kid I loved like my own? Told me I deserved to die. But here's the kicker—Brian wouldn't even sign the divorce. Dude broke down, said he still loved me, swore the kid was a mistake. So I smiled and said, "Cool. You've got seven days. Prove it, and I'll forgive you." He went full simp mode. Emptied his bank account, treated me like I was gold. Even kicked Ruby down and yelled at her to apologize. Everyone thought I'd cave. Then the cops called, asked him to ID a body—and Brian totally lost it. He never knew I'd been dead this whole time. The Reaper gave me one last week to say goodbye.

In her previous life, Zoey was killed before realizing that she had misidentified the man who saved her life back then. After being reborn, she kicked away the scumbag man and vowed to take back all the honors she once gifted to her enemies. The most important thing, firmly hold onto the scumbag's uncle's disabled thighs. Some people say: That Zoey, has nothing but borrowing Russell's influence. Financial tycoons, medical godfathers, beautiful movie queens, and tech gurus have all come forward: "Sorry, our zoey never rely on men." The whole network is in an uproar! Everyone is guessing what their relationship was. The next day the video came out, a certain disabled guy not only stood up, but also blocked the little petite wife in the corner, "Zoey, you are mine!" The scumbag man is on his knees again, begging me to come back to him. All I want to say is 'Goodbye, Mr. Ex: I've Remarried Mr. Right.‘

My mother had been hospitalized. My boyfriend worked as a doctor at the same hospital. You would think he would have visited her often, but he never did. Not once. On the first day of her stay, he did not come because he had taken a day off. His childhood friend was moving, and she needed his help. On the second day, that same childhood friend appeared at the hospital as an intern. He followed her everywhere and showed her the ropes. He handled anything she asked for, no matter how small. It went on like that, day after day. My mother's ward was on the thirteenth floor. His office was on the seventeenth. All it would have taken was a ten-second elevator ride or a two-minute walk down the stairs. Even so, Sebastian did not visit her for more than twenty days. My mother recovered. I picked her up by myself and took her to the train station. While I was on the way, he texted me. Sebastian: [Suzy's pet dog is getting vaccinated today. I need to drive her there first.] This time, I replied. [Got it. Drive safely. By the way, we're over.]

My mother was dying. Her only wish before she passed was to see me married. For 27 days, I begged my girlfriend, Monica Teller, and she finally agreed to register for marriage with me on the 27th day. I waited at the courthouse until closing, but she never came. That same day, her childhood sweetheart, Gurney Barnes, posted their marriage certificate on social media. [Time sure flies. Three more days, and we'll have been married for a month.] It was then I finally realized that she had married her childhood sweetheart since the first day I started begging her. Not long after, an apology text from Monica buzzed on my phone. [I'm so sorry, Lincoln. Gurney's family was forcing him into marriage. I couldn't stand by and watch him get shackled to a stranger. Just give it three days. We'll file for divorce. Three days later, I'll marry you." Three days later, she showed up at the courthouse in a wedding gown, But the only thing waiting for her was my message. [Goodbye, Monica. May we never meet again.]

I built my wife’s family business from the ground up, sacrificing everything so that her world could thrive. The night I collapsed from stomach bleeding after too many business drinks, she was out laughing with her childhood sweetheart. She even had the nerve to call me dull and uptight. I smiled when I finally handed her the divorce papers. “I wish you both a happy life together.” But instead of signing it, she tore it to pieces, tears in her eyes. “I’m not letting you go,” she said.

When war broke out in Irestan, my fiancé, Everett Jones, caused a scene at the airport and refused to let the evacuation flight take off. He was determined to wait for his precious first love, Annie Scott, who had taken advantage of the chaos to loot a cosmetics counter for luxury goods. By then, the insurgent forces were already closing in. The shriek of explosions grew louder, drawing nearer by the second. With an entire plane full of people in mortal danger, I had no choice. I knocked Everett unconscious and dragged him aboard. After we returned home, far from the battlefield, we lived a period of quiet, comfortable happiness. I truly believed he had finally put that woman behind him. I was wrong. On our wedding day, he tied me up, drove me away, and deliberately crashed the car, killing me. As my life slipped away, I heard his twisted laughter. "Daniela, you're the one who killed my Annie. Because of you, she was killed by an insurgent missile. "She was just a young girl who liked to look pretty. What was so wrong with that? "This is what you owe her. I'm going to make you suffer far more than she ever did." When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the boarding gate, at the exact moment he blocked the plane. This time, I chose to grant his wish and let him stay behind with his beloved first love, together, forever.

I was three months pregnant when the car crash happened. In those final moments of fading consciousness, I frantically dialed Damian’s private, encrypted line—the one meant only for emergencies. He never picked up. By the time I was rushed into surgery, I received a crushing blow: Damian had forcibly reassigned my lead private physician to the South District. He needed the best doctor to treat his childhood sweetheart, Evelyn, who had just been widowed. When I finally drifted awake through a haze of agony, my trembling fingers swiped open Instagram. I saw Evelyn’s latest post: “I knew that no matter the distance or the time, Damian would move heaven and earth to reach me. He even brought his Chief Physician just to help me heal from my grief.” In the accompanying photo, Damian—a man known for his cold, lethal eyes—was gazing at the woman beside him with a tenderness I hadn't seen in years. While I was clawing my way back from the brink of death, fighting to save our child, my husband was playing protector to another pregnant woman. A hollow, self-deprecating laugh escaped my lips. Without a second thought, I slid the wedding band off my ring finger. I opened my inbox and hit "Confirm" on the invitation from the world’s most elite International Finance Institute. If Evelyn is all he cares about, I’ll give them my blessing. In seven days, I will vanish from his world forever—and I’m taking my baby with me.

When my appendix bursts, my parents, my brother, and even my fiancé are all too busy celebrating my sister's birthday. I'm outside the operating room, frantically calling every family member I can think of to sign the consent form, but every call is either ignored or hung up on. After hanging up on me, my fiancé, Joel Graham, texts back. "Sophie, stop being dramatic. It's Yvette's 18th birthday today. Whatever it is can wait until after the party." I quietly set my phone down and sign the consent form myself. It's the ninety-ninth time they've chosen Yvette Norton, my sister, over me. This time, I choose not to care. I'll stop letting their favoritism hurt me. Instead, I'll do everything they ask of me without complaint. They'll all think I've finally learned to be obedient, and they'll never realize that I'm preparing to leave them for good.