Grant Gustin Height Novels & Stories

“I don’t love you dammit. Why don’t you understand I was just faking it to take my revenge!” His hands drop from her. Moving back. Gone those loving tender eyes. “Fine if this is what you choose. No one will stop you from leaving but before that...you will have to grant me one last wish.Your last punishment. Which will make everything even." He speak gulping the throat burning liquid. To see her look at him over her shoulder.To spits the words impatiently. " Speak. What's it!" Moving closer to her from behind. He moves aside her hair from her neck. To stare at his mark on her. Speaking in a cold deadly voice. " I want to fuc* you one last time my little wife." " Fine. " She speaks unaffected. Successful in breaking his heart but no way in hell will he let her get away from him this easily. She will beg for him. And he will make sure that she never gets him. Sniffing her perfume scent. By placing his chin on her shoulder. He whisper in her ear in a voice that sent chills down her spine. " On your knees.NOW!" And that’s  when she drops down. Without resisting. Letting him take his revenge. Which she knew she deserved in every sense. ....... She was just his Beta. Someone he trusts.Someone he can rely on. Until one day she leaves him. Making him realise how much he needs her. Years passed . He moved on. He now has a fiance. But what happens when his Beta comes back. And he feels more than just attraction for her. Will he fulfill his Kings positions honour or will he loose his heart to her? Come find out in ' The Beta girl'

When I went to pick Diana Grant up, she just tossed the car keys toward me. Dangling from the silver ring was a plush white bear pendant. I paused, knowing that she had never kept a keychain or a decorative charm on her keys. Once I slid into the driver's seat, the entire alignment felt off. The seat had clearly been adjusted. "Did you let someone else drive your car?" I asked, keeping my voice casual. Dazed from the alcohol, she offered a dismissive shrug. "Yeah. I lent it to an employee for a quick business trip." I didn't press further. The next morning, the chime of the doorbell broke the silence of the house. When I pulled the door open, a shy, clean-cut young guy was standing on the porch. He blinked, then forced a sheepish smile and handed over a cup of coffee. "Hi," he stammered. "I'm just here to drop off a fresh coffee for Ms. Grant." But my attention wasn't on the coffee. My gaze dropped to his left hand. Twirling lazily around his index finger was a set of keys, and swinging from the metal loop was the same white bear pendant. I took the coffee cup from his hand and quietly closed the door. In the room, Diana's phone lit up on the table. A new notification flashed across the lock screen. It was a message that read: [Diana, I just met your husband. He looks kind of scary. Coffee was delivered safely anyway. Try to drink less alcohol next time, okay?] I picked up the phone and pulled up the video camera. With the recording running, I held the coffee cup over the kitchen sink and slowly poured the warm liquid down the drain. Then I uploaded the recorded video to Diana's social media, broadcasting it to her entire social circle. The caption read: [Thanks for the concern, but she doesn't drink coffee.]

After the wolf packs clashed, my sister's mate, Jacob, returned safely. But my mate, Liam, lost his life on the battlefield. The entire pack mourned my misfortune. Yet deep inside, I knew the truth. The one who came back was not Jacob—it was my mate, Liam. They were twin wolves, equal in strength and nearly impossible to tell apart. No one noticed the difference. Not even my sister, who sensed the lie through the mate bond, chose to speak up. In my past life, Liam once told me, "Elena, I'm doing this for the future of our pack's territory. My brother is the Alpha's heir. If the pack finds out he's dead, it will cause chaos. Your sister is pure and gentle. She couldn't endure the pain of losing her mate. I'm only standing in as Jacob, looking after her for a while. Once the pack stabilizes, I will come back to you." And I believed him… until the night of the eclipse… when Liam branded me a traitor and executed me with his own hands. As I lay dying, I saw him standing close beside Isabella, and the truth finally hit me: it had all been his scheme from the very beginning. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of our victory—the day word spread that Liam had fallen in battle. Yet there he was—"Jacob"—holding my sister tenderly, while the pack looked my way with pity. This time, I chose differently. I severed the mate bond and knelt before the Moon Goddess, begging her to grant me a new mate. Liam believed that by pretending to be his brother, he could claim the title of Alpha of the Black Moon Pack. But he never realized—by abandoning me, he had already destroyed the only path that could lead him to the Alpha's throne.

My wife and I had agreed to spend the holiday at my parents' house. Right before we walked out the door, she said, "I forgot to change my address again. The package was delivered to Grant's place!" I went still. Three years of marriage, and yet she had never once updated her default shipping address. A microwave she ordered online was delivered to her ex-boyfriend. She said it worked out, since his microwave was broken anyway. The anniversary gift she had picked out for me was signed for by her ex-boyfriend. She said it would be too awkward to ask for it back. The Valentine's Day gift she ordered for me online ended up in her ex-boyfriend's hands. She said she could not give me something secondhand, so she let him keep it. This time, she was ordering a holiday gift basket, and I had reminded her two weeks in advance. It still went to her ex-boyfriend. I kept my voice as steady as I could. "Go get it back. Drive over there right now." Her expression darkened. "He already signed for it. How am I supposed to get it back? We'll just pick something up on the way." "Get it back," I said. "Do you have to be so petty?" she snapped. "You're a grown man. You always have to make such a big deal out of everything." Every time something ended up at her ex-boyfriend's place and I asked her to get it back, that was the answer I got. My hands clenched until the knuckles went white as I watched her slam the door on her way out. I ignored the dull ache in my chest and sent a message to my lawyer. "Happy holidays. Could you please draft a divorce agreement for me? Thank you."

Everyone in this town knows that when a family gives a daughter away in marriage, the parents always have a grand bridal carriage custom-built for her, adorned with thousands of pearls. Every single pearl on that carriage must be personally harvested by her mother and father—the more pearls, the more cherished the daughter is, and the more her future husband will value her. My own bridal carriage was finished six years ago. But nineteen times now, my wedding date has been set, and each time, my younger foster sister, Lena Bennett, has found some excuse to stop it. This time, on the very morning of my wedding, she locked me in my room again. By the time I smashed through the window and stumbled into the banquet hall, bruised and bleeding, the ceremony was already underway. Lena was sitting in my carriage, led by my brother, Ryan Bennett, toward my fiancé, Nathan Sinclair. My parents stood by the side with tears in their eyes, pleading with Nathan to treat their daughter well. The moment my best friend, Megan Hayes, saw me, she blocked the entrance and pinned me down. "Yes," she confessed, "this whole bride-swap plan—we all came up with it together. Lena is seriously ill. Everyone just wants to grant her dying wish. Try to be understanding." Ryan hurried over and warned me, "Mom and Dad said that if you just behave this one time, not only will they give you ten times more wedding gifts later, but they'll also finally treat you and Lena exactly the same from now on. If not, don't expect to stay in our family estate." I clenched my fists and refused to let a single tear fall in front of them. What they don't know was that over the years, my adoptive parents, Daniel and Susan Ward, had already quietly prepared wedding gifts worth hundreds of thousands for me. So, whatever love and belonging my biological family promised? I don't want it anymore.

On the day of my wedding, the video I had painstakingly prepared was suddenly replaced with intimate photos of my fiancé and my foster sister, Lindsey Remmington. Within minutes, it hit the top of the trending list. Overnight, I, a celebrated actress, became the abandoned bride of a wealthy family and a public laughingstock. Just when I thought I'd reached rock bottom, Connor Presley, the heir of Elluel City's most powerful family and the boy I'd grown up with, returned from abroad. In front of flashing cameras, he knelt with a diamond ring and proposed, silencing every rumor and every sneer. After we married, we appeared inseparable, our affection the picture of perfection. The only flaw was his infertility—his condition made it nearly impossible for me to conceive. For three long years, I underwent countless rounds of IVF. At last, I became pregnant. Connor was overjoyed. To celebrate, he threw an extravagant party in honor of our long-awaited child. But in the middle of the revelry, one of his closest friends, drunk and unguarded, muttered in Russian, "Connor, you've gone too far. Just because Lindsey was afraid pregnancy would ruin her figure, you put the zygote into Rachel's body and let her carry the baby for you two? If she ever finds out the truth, you'll regret it for the rest of your life." Connor's expression didn't waver. "This was Lindsey's only wish. I had to grant it," he replied coolly. "Besides, having a child with Lindsey has always been my dream. Only her child deserves to be the heir of the Presley family. The days ahead are long—I'll make it up to Rachel, eventually." I stood frozen, my body trembling uncontrollably. That night, I made an appointment for an abortion. When Connor stormed into the hospital, raging like a madman, I looked up at him with chilling calm and said, "I understand Russian."

"Marry me," Helena said with a pounding heart. Alexander's eyes darkened, making her legs feel like jelly. "And what do I get in return?" "80% of my shares, plus 2 years of my time." "I don't want your shares, Helena... I want you." ***** They say you only realise what you've lost when it's gone. Helena realised this as she lay dying, killed by her husband and sister. Switched at birth and reclaimed by a family that never wanted her, Helena lived as an outsider in her own home. But when her grandfather left her a fortune, suddenly everyone cared. Especially Michael, her sister's ex-boyfriend, who swept her off her feet with promises of love. But love was a lie. Pregnant and naive, Helena signed away everything before they killed her. In her final moments, she prayed for one impossible thing: a second chance. When Helena opens her eyes to the reading of her grandfather's will, she knows exactly what she has to do. No more being the fool. Now, she'll reclaim what's hers and pursue her dream of becoming a doctor. Then she collides with handsome and powerful Alexander Grant, who looks at her like she's a puzzle he's dying to solve. He harbours dark secrets—including a terminal illness and a solemn promise to her dead grandfather. When Helena proposed a contract marriage, his answer ignited a fire neither of them could control. He remembers their past life, and this time, he'll stop at nothing to protect her, claim her, and make her his, even as his own life is fading. But desire is a dangerous game when your grovelling ex-husband wants you back and enemies circle like vultures. Can Helena save the one man who truly loves her, or will trusting her heart destroy her all over again?

My name is Kristin Cantrell, and I'm the only daughter of Central City's Alpha, Adam Cantrell. Everyone knows that whoever I bond with is sure to become the next Werewolf Chairman. On my 20th birthday, the witch gives me a magical mirror that can show me the wolf who is the most suited to become my mate. Two wolves appear side by side. One is my childhood sweetheart, Kaelen Olson, and the other is his uncle, Ethan Olson. I choose Ethan without hesitation. Everyone is shocked at my decision because I have loved Kaelen for eight years. Not only do I declare that I only want him to mark me, but I also take up needles for the first time to knit him a cape. On the other hand, Ethan's previous five mates all died suspicious deaths. He is also rumored to be impotent. But only I know that right after I become mates with Kaelen in my past life, he spends our first night entangled in bed with my adopted sister, Lily Cantrell. They are caught in the act. Father is enraged and marries Lily off to the Shadow pack. Since then, Kaelen has hated me for forcing them to separate. Even if I give birth to his pup, I never manage to win his heart. Three years later, during a pack banquet, a maid wearing a masked veil comes before me to perform a dance. When she gets close enough, she suddenly pulls out a dagger that has been dipped in silver. Kaelen makes no move to save me. He watches indifferently as my pup and I die from being stabbed viciously. As I die, I am filled with hatred, knowing that I have chosen the wrong mate for myself. With the Moon Goddess' blessing, I am now given a second chance at life. This time, I choose to grant Kaelen his wish to be with Lily. However, he seems to regret it.

I was born to shine. But the fate had others plans for me. The moment my feet left the edge, the world fell silent. There was only wind. And peace. For one fragile heartbeat, I was free. Like a bird. Then something slammed into me from behind. Arms. Hard. Unforgiving. The impact hurled me sideways instead of down. Wood splintered. Something inside me cracked. Darkness rushed in and I welcomed it. … “Open. Your. Eyes.” The voice was quiet, slow, deliberate. It forced its way through bone and blood. An Alpha command. Pain detonated through me as air tore back into my lungs. My body convulsed against my will. I tried to sink back into the quiet—to finish what I had started. “You were NEVER given permission to die.” Power wrapped around the words like chains. My eyes snapped open. We were beyond the pack’s borders. The air felt colder. Wilder. Untouched by law or duty. For one second, I had belonged to nothing. And he had dragged me back. He loomed above me, fury carved into every sharp angle of his face. His breathing was controlled, his posture dominant - absolute. If anyone were watching from the cliffs, they would see an Alpha asserting ownership. His jaw tightened, irritated at being forced to deal with something that should have already been resolved. I had complicated his plans. “Drink.” His wrist pressed my mouth. The metallic scent hit first. I tried to clamp my lips shut. But Alpha commands do not ask. They take. My mouth opened against my will and his blood burned down my throat, spreading heat through my chest. A cruel gift. He would not even grant me the mercy of dying on my own terms. And I understood - even my death did not belong to me.

The day my father was diagnosed with liver cancer, I took out the cash gift I had received from my wedding to cover the emergency costs. The bank teller counted the amount multiple times. At that moment, I learned that out of the twenty thousand dollars cash gift Peter Grant’s family had given me a year ago, eighteen thousand dollars were counterfeit. I went home with the fake money to demand an explanation. My mother-in-law, Deborah, stepped on my father’s picture and called him a worthless man who deserved to die. Peter refused to divorce me. He demanded that I pay back the twenty thousand dollars in cash before he would agree to the divorce. When I refused, he started a live stream. He held up my undergarments for tens of thousands of viewers to see. “Look at what my wife is wearing. Is she trying to save her dad, or is she trying to seduce him? “We’ve been married for a whole year, and she hasn’t even given me a single child. Now she wants a divorce? This is marriage fraud. She scammed us out of the cash gift!” The comments section hurled insults at me. Someone threw dung on our front porch. Someone even edited my family’s faces onto old-fashioned funeral portraits and posted them online. The whole internet said my family deserved to die. What they did not know was that when that money was put into the safe, the whole thing had been caught on camera. The security seals on the cash bundles were covered in Peter’s family’s fingerprints. They also did not know that I had picked up the wrong medical report. The one with cancer was not my father. It was actually Deborah. Later, Peter knelt on the floor begging me to give him some money to save his mother. I kicked his hand away and said coldly, “I still have your counterfeit eighteen thousand dollars. I’ll give it all back to you. Is that enough to cremate your mother?”