Hercules 3rd Labor Novels & Stories

In the new world order, humans are nothing but property. Omegas, wolves, and rogues rank higher, leaving humans powerless, destined for collar and chain. She grows up knowing this, but hopes for mercy when her turn comes—a gentle Alpha, a kind Luna, someone who will put her to work but leave her body her own. On the night of her auction, hope dies. She is purchased by Caelan Black, Alpha of the feared Ironfang Pack. Cold, violent, and legendary for his cruelty, Caelan doesn’t buy humans for labor—he buys them for heirs. From the first night, he makes it clear: she is not his mate. She is not his Luna. She is his breeding pet—a body to keep in his bed until she bears his pups. Collared and caged, she fights him, refusing to bend. But Caelan is patient in his cruelty, teaching her submission with hands, mouth, and punishing nights that leave her trembling yet craving more. Soon, her body betrays her. Desire coils through her veins, and in his eyes, she begins to see something more dangerous than lust—possession. When rival Alphas discover Caelan has bonded with a human, they see weakness. They come for her, threatening to steal his breeder and expose him as unfit to rule. Blood is spilled, war ignites, and in the chaos, she realizes the truth: she is no longer just his pet. She is his obsession, his weakness, his ruin. And when the Goddess herself tests their bond, she must decide—remain the breeder he bought her as… or claim her place as the Luna he swore she could never be.

On the day I'm due for my labor, Chad Nelson's first love, Lucy Baker, who's diagnosed with depression, barges into the maternity ward. Without warning, she plunges the knife she's holding into my hip. By the time Chad and the medical team arrive at the ward, I'm already lying in a pool of my own blood on the bed. The machine recording my vitals keeps screeching loudly the whole time. But Chad crouches down next to Lucy, who has gotten shoved to the floor by a nurse earlier. It seems that her elbow has suffered from light abrasions. "Dr. Nelson, your spouse is in critical condition. She needs to undergo a surgery immediately!" Chad raises his head to glance at me. His tone is cool and professional. "None of Caitlin's vital organs are hurt by the stab, so she can still endure the pain for now. Lucy, on the other and, has a coagulation disorder. Even though she has only suffered from abrasions, there's a chance that her blood flow can't be staunched at all. This makes her situation more critical than Caitlin's. "Anyway, give the two bags of blood in the blood bank to Lucy." When I get pushed away, I use all of my strength to grip Chad's white coat tightly. He just frowns at me in return. "Lucy didn't do this on purpose. Her depression has gotten triggered, that's all. Since you're a woman of medicine, you should be more empathetic toward the patient." After that, Chad digs out a letter of forgiveness from his pocket that he has already printed out in advance.

Melissa Jones, the so-called 'fake' heiress, lost her memory trying to save me. Her memory was stuck at the time she was 18, back when our lives had not yet been set right. Everyone told me to be the bigger person. In the new family portrait, I was the only one missing. My biological mother tried to comfort me, "Shirley, be reasonable. It's just a photo. We will make it up to you later." I applied for the vice president position year after year, only to be rejected five times in a row. Then, when Melissa said she wanted to learn the business, my brother, Maverick Jones, approved it immediately. Afterward, he turned to me and said, "You should give way to Melissa. You're the reason she lost her memory. I'm helping you make up for it." When I went into labor and needed my husband, Charles Smith, to sign the consent for a C-section, he was one floor above me, accompanying Melissa to a follow-up appointment. I called him seven times. He declined every call. In the end, my seven-month-old baby suffocated. Even in a wheelchair, I went to demand an explanation. However, outside the hospital room, I heard Melissa crying. "Back then, you all agreed I should pretend to have amnesia. I'll never randomly decline calls for Charles again. I just want to stay by your side for three more months." There was a moment of silence. Then, Charles and the others agreed. At that moment, I was not angry. I just felt something inside me turn completely empty. I turned around and accepted my adoptive parents' request to return to Nebula City. This time, I would give these people what they wanted.

When my husband, Lucius Croft, and I were on a flight that was heading toward our honeymoon destination, his childhood friend, Belinda Todd, suddenly appeared before us while pregnant. She claimed that she had bought an economy-class ticket and that she wanted to go on a vacation with us. Not only did Lucius not reject Belinda, but he also wanted me to give my first-class ticket away to her. I turned his suggestion down. So, he helped Belinda occupy the first-class seat next to us. When I realized that an old lady was the owner of that particular seat, I did everything I could to convince Lucius to return the seat to her. Unexpectedly, Belinda was so mad that she got off the plane right away. On her way home, she got into an accident, which killed her and her unborn baby. Lucius attended her funeral calmly. But on the day I was supposed to go into labor, he tied me up in the car and staged a car accident on purpose. "This is all your fault! If it wasn't for you, Belinda never would've died! You deserve to make it up to her with your life!" I could only watch the car drive into the tree in total despair. All I saw was a huge explosion and tongues of flame around me before I completely lost consciousness. When I open my eyes again, I see Belinda standing before me with her belly jutting out. This time, I no longer stop them. What they don't know is that the inconspicuous-looking old lady is actually a member of the esteemed Howard family, also known as the global business powerhouse. She's also the grandmother of the richest man in the world, Ethan Howard.

The Thornes built their aromatherapy business generations ago, but their ancestors made a fatal mistake and brought down a divine curse. For ninety-nine generations, every Thorne heir drew their punishment on their eighteenth birthday. Julian Thorne was the last. He drew the worst punishment: death from hemorrhage in ten months. The only way to break it was to marry a witch from the Old Bloodline and complete the life transference ritual. The witch inscribes a sigil on a parchment and infuses the child's blood essence on it, and the curse transfers to the parchment. I was that witch. My family owed the Thornes a blood debt going back three generations, so I married Julian, gave him a child, and performed the ritual to save his life. I was terrified of missing the ritual window, so I didn't even use anesthesia as the baby was cut out of my womb. However, Julian drove ninety-nine soul spikes into my body while I was still bleeding from the delivery, then set me on fire. "Miriam is the real heir. You're nothing but a fraud who wanted to marry up. "You drove her into the wilderness to protect your position. She went into labor alone and died with the baby. Even dying, she thought of me. She finished the ritual and saved my life. "You deceived my father. I'm destroying your soul. You'll pay for what you did to them." He ignored my screaming while he drained our newborn's blood essence. I watched helplessly as my child's life faded. Then I was nailed to a cross and burned until there was nothing left. When I opened my eyes, I was back on my wedding day.

On the first day of my rebirth, I turn straight into the bedroom of Don Raffaele Caruso and begin undoing my clothes. In my previous life, I was in a marriage of convenience with his son, Matteo Caruso, but there was no love between us. We were notorious in Liberty City's mafia circle. Matteo believed I was the reason he lost his first love. He thought I had deliberately gone into his room the night he was drugged with an aphrodisiac, trapping him in a marriage. Hence, for eight years after our wedding, he stayed out drunk every night and refused to come home. Even when I went into obstructed labor and was on the brink of death, he never asked about me even once. Then, the hurricane came. A storm surge swallowed Liberty City. The harbor collapsed under the waves, and there was only one seat left on the evacuation boat. Everyone thought Matteo would keep it for himself. Instead, he shoved me hard onto the boat. "Go! I'm giving you my chance to live, Chiara. If there's a next life, don't come saving me again. I just want to be with Lucia." The next second, his body was dragged into the pitch-black sea. I survived, only to be hacked to death by a rival family afterward. What Matteo never knew was that he wasn't the only one who was drugged that night. His father was too. This time around, I step into the room just as the effects of the aphrodisiac take hold. Raffaele is currently forcing himself to endure it, his control stretched to the limit. I walk over and say softly, "Let me be your antidote, Don Caruso."

After 99 bloodline fusion rituals, I finally conceived Alpha Garrick Whitefang's pup. As a mixed-blood Omega without a wolf, I understood the cost of that miracle better than anyone. The rituals burned away my lifespan. I brought this child with my blood. When I returned with the pregnancy report, ready to share the news, Garrick was waiting for me. A 4-year-old girl stood at his side, her small hand clasped in his. "Rowena, this is my surprise for you. Our pup," he said gently. Then he added, as if it meant nothing, "You will not have to endure bloodline fusion anymore. Her mother, Lyralei North, is pregnant with a male pup. Once she gives birth, I will bring him back for you to raise." His mother smiled with open relief. "No labor, no pain, and you gain two pups for free. How wonderful. The Snowclaw Pack finally has heirs." Unstoppable tears spilled down my face. For seven years as Garrick's Luna, bloodline rejection had made natural conception impossible. For five of those years, I had begged the pack elders to perform bloodline fusion rituals on me. I traded away my lifespan 99 times in total for the chance to carry his child. Only then did I understand. Garrick never wanted my pup. As long as heirs existed, it did not matter who gave birth to them. I returned to my room without a word and made one call. "Steven, does your research project still need people? I want to rejoin the team," I said quietly. "And I am leaving the Snowclaw Pack."

In my last life, Enzo Saletta saved me from the fire. Chiara Bellini died in my place. For months, he cared for me like a devoted husband. He guarded my hospital room. He bought gifts for our unborn child. He told me none of it was my fault. I believed him. Until the night after I gave birth. Our son was asleep beside me. I was too weak to move, still aching from labor, but for one brief moment, I believed we were safe. Then I smelled smoke. The door would not open. Outside the locked door, Enzo’s voice cut through the smoke. “You took Chiara from me. Now burn with your child.” I screamed his name until my throat bled. No one opened the door. The flames swallowed me and my newborn son. When I opened my eyes again, I was back inside that burning warehouse. Five months pregnant. Smoke in my lungs. Chiara still alive. This time, I did not call Enzo. I waited until he came. I watched him carry Chiara out first. Then I crawled through the fire alone, bleeding for a child he would never get the chance to kill. Everyone believed I had set the fire. Everyone called me jealous, vicious, and insane. But they had forgotten one thing. Before I became Enzo Saletta’s wife, I was the woman who helped build the Carmine family’s security system. Chiara deleted the main footage. She did not delete mine.

I had been married to Derek for six years, and we had a three-year-old son. He was poor, earning only $2,000 a month, but I had no complaints; I took care of everything at home for him. After getting dinner on the table for the whole family, I finally had a minute to check my phone. A video popped up on my feed: a twenty-two-year-old girl from a rural area whose hands, roughened by years of hard labor, looked like they belonged to a sixty-two-year-old woman. I looked down at my own hands, just as worn and scarred, and stared at them blankly before tapping into the comments. I expected people to feel bad for her. However, to my surprise, the comments section was flooded with a single sentiment: "Why would anyone marry a penniless loser?" One of the top-liked comments came from a couple; in their photo, they were pictured holding hands—fingers tightly intertwined—with the girl sporting a massive diamond ring. The accompanying caption read: "A man who truly loves you would never bear to let you suffer." I felt a pang of envy. Given the choice, who wouldn't want a glamorous life? As I was about to close the app, I accidentally tapped on the couple's photo, enlarging it. In the background, previously too blurry to make out, was a face I recognized. It looked exactly like my husband, Derek Sterling. I froze, and almost against my will, I tapped into the account's profile. Post after post of lavish photos of them together flooded my screen. And then I saw him clearly. The scar above his brow, the one he got when a shelf fell on him while protecting me, was still plainly visible. It was my husband. It was Derek.

Everyone said I was lucky. After the Don, Lucas Vaughn, brought me back to his estate, I became the woman he treasured most. He would halt billion-dollar deals just to be home on time to put me to sleep. He even learned sign language in secret, just so he could communicate with me after my vocal cords were damaged. At first, I didn’t dare give him my heart. Whenever he looked at me, his focus would drift. He showered me with gifts, yet always disappeared on the days that mattered most. As the child in my womb grew, and as Lucas’s devotion intensified day by day, I let my guard down. I devoted myself completely to the role of wife and Donna. Until the night I gave birth. I hemorrhaged during a difficult labor, but Lucas never showed up. After surviving by sheer luck, I finally saw the trending news. Lucas attended a Thames-side gala arm-in-arm with rising movie star, Serena Vale. That was when I understood. To him, I had only ever been a substitute. He broke his rules for her again and again. He indulged her humiliations toward me and even shoved me toward armed attackers at the brink of life and death. Filled with hatred, I closed my eyes and sank into the deep sea, just as he wished. Later, he knelt, clutching the hem of my dress, begging, "Zoe, please give me one more chance. I’ll repay you with my life." His life was worth too little now. I no longer wanted it.