Goodbye In Her Eyes Novels & Stories

When Cali Olwen, the only werewolf with a gift gets sent out of her pack, life becomes a living hell without control over her powers. But what happens when she meets the cold hybrid that everyone talks about. The one people feared because he was half demon. What happens when she finds out he was given to her by the moon goddess and his sister is the key to unlocking her hidden powers and how to control them. Will she be able to run from the devil or succumb to his touch of ecstasy. Read IN HER EYES to find out.

Due to the tumultuous event happened in the 2nd District, a young thief with an extrasensory perception got lost in the Palace. A palace where the Monarchs, the phenomenal Prince, and the great echelons live. The place where elites are loved, and homeless people like her are not welcomed. Status is important in the kingdom of Eufrata. Paupers can't even step into the palace. Bad luck or as it is, the Kingdom is looking for the precious stones. So in order to get out safely and save her fellow paupers, she needs to escape. But she only have two options; Sneak out and be killed by the sentries or join the team and look for the stones. She's stuck in a dangerous struggle and grievous mission. She needs to choose. She lives no Queen nor a princess, she doesn't belong to any royalties. She isn't great as the echelons, she ain't elite either. She doesn't live a normal life, she is not just a normal girl. Because she belongs to the lowest group in kingdom. She is a pauper. But she is extraordinary. Her perception is supernatural, and she is more than that. Will she be able to survive in a breathtaking atmosphere between elites and paupers? Is there a chance for a hopeless romantic between a pauper and an elite? How is she going to survive if she finds out that her capabilities are more than of what she expected? Will she survive when THE HUNT begins? "Watch out, they are the Hunters for the gems."

When I received the news that my fiancé, Ellison Perez, had postponed our wedding for the 18th time, I happened to be walking out of the hospital, clutching my medical report. Once again, he had delayed our wedding for an entire month, all because of my adopted foster sister, Becky. I thought about what the doctor had told me. After hesitating for a long time, I finally dialed Ellison's number. "I can't wait until next month. If we can't get married tomorrow, there won't be another chance." However, Ellison only took my words as another fit of childish willfulness. "Don't be unreasonable, Lily. Have you forgotten how Becky took your place as the hostage? She was tortured for a whole month before being rescued." "It's because of you that she developed severe trauma. Now you can't even wait one more month for her to recover?" I could hear my parents' voices chiming in over the line. "Becky still suffers from extreme fear of men. Ellison is the only one who can calm her down. Isn't it your fault she ended up like this?" "You're being selfish, Lily. A wedding can wait, but Becky's condition can't!" I had known for a long time that ever since that incident, my entire family had chosen Becky's side. Even so, tears streamed down my face. "Fine," I said softly. "Postpone it." I clenched the medical report tightly in my hand. They did not know that just moments ago, the doctor had told me the truth— I was in the final stage of liver cancer. I only had one month to live.

Three days ago, Damon Ashford marked me. The night he became Alpha, he sank his fangs into my neck under the moonlight. When his wolf blood mixed with mine, my wolf soul trembled violently. I thought the bond was taking root. I was too excited, too happy to tell the difference between real blood transfer and the simple sting of broken skin. This morning I went to City Hall without telling him. I wanted to pick up our certificate and frame it for our bedroom wall. I wanted to surprise him. The clerk checked the system, then looked up at me. "Whitmore, the mark on your neck is fake. There is no trace of wolf blood exchange." "Also, Ashford completed a formal registration with a woman named Clara Wellick two weeks ago." Under wolf law, a mark must be registered within seven days or it becomes invalid. I came to register, only to find I was never registered at all. I took off the scarf covering my neck and dropped it into the trash can outside City Hall. Standing on the steps, I sent my brother a message. Marcus, I’ll go with you for the closed medical research.

Asher and Malachi Wild, identical twin Vampire Princes, and second in line for the throne, are having some minor business troubles. Mystery crates are being moved using their import-export business, in shipments both into and out of the country. They don't know who, or why, or how it's happening. They get frustrated and go for a drive to clear their heads, and end up at a pub. A mysterious red-headed bartender catches their eye, for more than one reason. She's impressive, in all the right ways. Curves for days, strong, mysterious, and able to kill a nearly seven foot tall man while barely breaking a sweat. Now if they could just get her to talk to them and give them her name... Eliza Wellsong, Head of the Assassin's Guild for England. There are one and a half-thousand people under her command, and she's half-forced to take a night off by her second in command. She goes to the local pub to help out her friend, the owner of the pub, Molly, instead. Then the two princes walk in, and they just can't keep their eyes off her. She's confused, she's fat, and not that pretty, what the fuck is up with them? But then they're kind to her, and honest. It's a nice change of pace, and they're handsome enough, maybe she should let them in?

"Why do you want to be my bride so badly?" he questioned, his mesmerizing eyes locked Crystal's. Crystal shook her head, reminding herself of her goal. "To marry someone like you, an angel from heaven. Marrying you would be, no doubt, a blessing." She stammered, looking away. He leaned closer to her; his breath grazed her skin. "An angel?" he chuckled deviously. "Are you sure, I'm an angel?" Crystal Fei was a fiery woman with a thirst for revenge. For ten years, she has been looking for the culprit who caused her brother's death at all costs. Finally, when she was on the brink of hopelessness, a man reached out, promising her revenge on that person. But what game did fate play on Crystal when she was tasked to steal his heart in an undercover mission to avenge her brother? Will it still be a game of pretense when she looked into his eyes. The eyes that was so sharp and mysterious, his eyes that pierced her heart.

To protect the assistant who had been evading taxes, she deliberately gave false testimony in her role as my superior's wife, putting all the blame on me. I protested endlessly, but the law held me accountable. I was imprisoned for two months. Upon release, my colleagues turned against me, ostracizing me and destroying my promotion chances. Seeing that I neither cried nor caused a scene, my wife assumed that I had finally submitted. She even threatened to make amends with a lavish wedding for me. However, during the wedding vows, the assistant, suddenly overtaken by jealousy, ran to the company rooftop and threatened my wife with suicide to force her to cancel the wedding. My wife, who had always been obedient to him, panicked. She abandoned everyone at the ceremony and spent the entire night comforting her assistant. Afterwards, she calmly explained: "Wilson is young and impulsive. I was just afraid he might get hurt. Besides, you were released from prison so early thanks to him. He helped a lot. By right, he's still your lifesaver. I couldn't just abandon him." I looked at the couple rings she had just put on her finger, let out a faint hum, and said nothing. She believed I accepted her excuse and was pleased, even making an unprecedented promise: once she had calmed the assistant, she would take me on a honeymoon. However, she seemed to have forgotten one thing. She had already signed the divorce papers, and I had filed a lawsuit in court to have the case heard. From that moment on, we were no longer husband and wife. We were only plaintiff and defendant.

It was my birthday. I thought he would take me to see the fireworks by the sea, but he showed up with another woman and her child. “Vera has a kid with her, and it’s inconvenient for them. Be a little understanding. She doesn’t know her way around here, and she has a lot of luggage. I’ll just drop them at the hotel.” He said it so casually, as if he were just explaining some trivial, everyday chore. It was that very gentleness of his that made me feel like I was so unreasonable getting angry over it. He helped them into the car. He leaned down to buckle the seatbelt on the child. Then, he turned to me with a smile. “I’ll be right back. Don’t overthink things.” I stood by the roadside and watched them drive away like a picture-perfect little family. As night fell, the sea breeze turned sharp and biting. Still, I waited until a notification of Vera Cannon’s social feed update lit up my screen. He was holding her daughter in his arms. They were watching the fireworks by the beach. It was a surprise I had planned for my own birthday. The comments poured in. [What a perfect match. What a beautiful little family!] Someone asked him why he was not picking me up. He just smiled and said, “Indy is very patient. She won’t be mad.” At that moment, my birthday cake melted into a puddle of frosting. I finally realized that he had not done that to be cruel to me. He was certain that I would always wait for him. However, even the warmest heart grew cold when neglected too many times. The waves crashed against the shore, over and over. With each crash, another shred of my hope washed away. This time, I was not going to wait for him to come back.

I had been in a relationship with Harry Chalamet for ten years. He stood up for me and even ended up in the hospital after a fight. He financially supported me in my education by laboring on construction sites. Even my friends could tell that he was madly in love with me, and I believed it too. Just when we were about to get married, I noticed he often secretly stared blankly at a photo. But the person in that photo wasn’t me…

Having an Awakenist as my wife meant enduring her monkish attitude toward sex. We could only be intimate on the sixteenth of every month. Every detail—my position, rhythm, even my expression—had to follow her rigid rules. If I showed too much pleasure, she would immediately rise and leave. We had been married for five years. Was I ever tired of this? Yes. Still, I always gave in. I accepted these limitations because I loved her. "The Saintess loves me too," I told myself. That faith shattered the day I was sent to extinguish a hotel fire. Amid the flames, I found my wife pressed close to a man in disheveled clothes. Between their arms was a young boy.