How Was Hades Born Novels & Stories

Lucien sent me onto the transplant table with his own hands to save the foster sister he treasured most. “Elara, this is what you owe Sylvie.” “Give her your kidney, and I’ll let you remain the Luna of this pack.” He did not know that five years ago, when the northern wolf keep caught fire, the one who carried him out of the flames had never been Sylvie. It had been me. He knew even less that I had long since reached the final stage of soul-wolf collapse. I had only forty-eight hours left. This kidney was the last thing keeping me alive. On the day of the operation, he stood outside Sylvie’s healing chamber, speaking to her softly and refusing to leave her side. Meanwhile, in the transplant room next door, my heart stopped. When news of my death reached him, he only sneered and called it another one of my tricks. Not until much later did he unfold the blood-soaked rescue record from the northern fire and see the photograph attached to it. Mine. Alpha, your Luna left one final message before she died. “She says this life is returned to you.” “In the next one, may you never meet again.” So why are you losing your mind now, Lucien? Isn’t this exactly the ending you wanted?

Kael and I, Bella, grew up side by side in the Silverclaw Pack. We were bound by the unbreakable thread of fate. Just as we reached adulthood and dreamed of our future together, I was diagnosed with Wolf Soul Degeneration: a rare, incurable illness that would drain my life force completely in just one week. Our Marking Ceremony had been scheduled for exactly one month later. Kael, the rightful Alpha heir, was scheduled to depart for the three-year Northern Trials, the only path to earning his place as leader of our pack. Knowing he would abandon everything to stay with me, I made the unbearable choice to break his heart and drive him away. Three days after I staged my betrayal, he appeared before me, his arm wrapped around a soft-spoken she-wolf from the Blackstone Pack. I forced myself to stand tall and pretend nothing was wrong as he stared at me for a long, heavy moment. Then he pulled out an official pack decree and said, "Ella and I will be mated in three days. I want you to officiate the ceremony." Without another word, he turned and walked away with his new Luna-to-be I stared at the decree in my hands until my vision blurred. "I'm sorry. I hope you're happy forever."

Lizzie Lee married Nathan Hall, and there were rumors he had a woman he loved deeply for years. He had been the one to hold Lizzie’s hand and take her to city hall to file their marriage license, and he was the one who told her his old flame meant nothing to him anymore. After three years of marriage, she thought that as long as she stayed gentle and compliant, she could warm his heart. Until that day, for the sake of his old flame, Nathan robbed her father of his last chance to survive and even brought his mistress to his father’s funeral. Lizzie looked at him and said, “I’m done. I want a divorce.” After the divorce, everyone waited to see her become a joke. But not long after, she was revealed to be the internationally renowned painter “Rose,” the long-lost daughter of a powerful family, and the lead on a major national art project. Her talent was undeniable, and she gradually became a star he could never reach. The man who once couldn’t even be bothered to look at her knelt in regret. “Liz, I was wrong. Come back, alright? I’ll treat you and your child well.” Yet another arm wrapped around Lizzie’s slender waist, drawing her in as he brushed a kiss against her flushed ear, his voice low with quiet possession. “Who else could be worthy of you but me?”

On the night meant to celebrate her two-years wedding anniversary, Hadley’s world burns—literally and emotionally. After two years of standing loyally beside her husband, Andrew Shaw, even helping him secure a major deal with Sky Group as his company’s director, Hadley receives a terrifying call: his office is on fire. Without hesitation, she rushes into the flames to save him… only to find him entangled with her own sister, Laura. Betrayed, humiliated for being overweight, and trapped in a blazing inferno, Hadley watches in disbelief as the two people she trusted most choose each other—and abandon her to die. But fate isn’t done with her yet. She survives. And this time, she walks away. Divorced and carrying Andrew’s child, Hadley disappears from his life, only for the truth to surface—she was never just the devoted wife he discarded. She is an heiress, powerful and untouchable, with a new life rising from the ashes of her past, and no longer overweight. Now, the woman Andrew once betrayed and mocked for being overweight is no longer someone he can control or insult anymore… yet she becomes the one he can’t forget. As regret consumes him, Andrew begins his relentless pursuit to win her back. But Hadley has already learned her lesson. This time, will she choose love… or revenge?

“I tried to kill you the first day I saw you. I told myself it was mercy. That livestock shouldn’t carry a predator’s mark. Then you looked at me with those eyes, and my wolf refused to obey. You think you’re being watched? You are. Not because I want you dead anymore… but because if anyone else tries, I will end them.” …………………… Alpha Xander Nightfall was never meant to have a human mate. Especially not a male one. A mistake he plans to eliminate with a bullet. Noah Bennett has never questioned his straight, ordinary life. Until the night a masked man with gold eyes presses him against his own wall and makes him crave things he cannot confess out loud. He wakes alone, aching, ashamed… and desperate for it to happen again. Xander tells himself he is studying his target. He tells himself the touches are nothing and the hunger is temporary. Yet every time Noah trembles beneath his hands, the wolf inside him marks, claims, protects. And the more he claims, the more impossible the truth becomes. Because the human he plans to eliminate might not be human at all. And what he is……………….might start a supernatural war.

Two years ago, as a graduate of Werewolf Medical School, I volunteered to go to the most remote and poorest pack, as it had always been my dream to help werewolf patients in need. I heard from my teacher that the werewolves in the Rogue Pack were the poorest and that their living conditions were the worst. Most of the werewolves there were old and weak, so I volunteered to go to that pack as soon as I graduated. After I arrived, I helped them build an infirmary and even set up a blood station. Every year, I led them in voluntary blood donations. But one time—right after I had taken a short break following a blood donation—they turned on me. They slandered me, calling me a selfish and heartless healer. Worse still, they accused me of faking illness, claiming I was lying comfortably in bed while patients were dying—refusing to lift a finger to save them. Not only that, they stormed into the infirmary, seized all my herbs and equipment, and completely trashed the place I had built for them with my own hands. Recalling the days I had spent day and night healing them—only to see my infirmary destroyed and my dream shattered—I let out a bitter smile. I picked up the phone and called the dean of my home pack. "I'm ready to return," I said. "I want to serve the patients in our own pack." Then, without a trace of regret, I left that place behind. However, after I gave up, the whole pack regretted it and begged me to return.

I'm the daughter of Don Falcone. After I got back from studying abroad, my family threw a welcome-home banquet, conveniently setting me up to meet the fiancé my father had handpicked for me—Santino Moretti. My father praised the guy to the skies in his letters: he was the heir to the Moretti family, elegant, ruthless, drop-dead gorgeous, and holding half the city’s underground operations in the palm of his hand. I arrived at the Elysium Hotel right on the dot. Just as I was about to take a seat, a hand shoved me hard. A woman's shrill voice pierced my ear. "Livia, what's a Sicilian peasant like you doing here? This is the Imperial Suite. Do you think you even deserve to breathe the air in a place like this?" I recognized the woman. It was Bella, a bitch who had always had it out for me back in college. She was clearly trying to humiliate me. Instead of getting mad, I smirked. "Whether I deserve to be here or not—is that for you to decide?" Bella sneered, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'm Mr. Santino's personal assistant. Today, Mr. Santino is hosting the eldest daughter of the Falcone family here. This isn't an occasion for bottom-feeding trash like you." "Be smart and crawl back to your slum." I pulled out my phone and dialed my so-called fiancé. I wanted to ask him if it was a tradition in the Moretti family to let their dogs bark at the front door.

My superior loved tricking me into wearing tight-fitting pencil skirts to serve wine to sleazy clients while sticking close to them. Then, she would hint that I was single and a valid target while she excitedly waited for the clients to make a move on me. It was all in the name of checking the integrity of the clients and whether they were worthy business partners or not. The moment a client fell for it, she would rush over with righteous anger and throw wine in their faces. Then, she would lecture me with a voice heavy with anguish. “Do you lack money so much that you’d throw your dignity away just for better results?” She would trample all over my dignity to set up her image as a refined, noble woman. This time, she even prepared a gown with a super low neckline and pushed me to serve a client with a rich and powerful background. She threatened me by saying that if I did not go, she would deduct my bonus for three whole months of full attendance. But when I saw the familiar, cold man sitting in the seat of honor, it was my turn to laugh. If my brother saw me serving wine in this kind of dress, I did not doubt that by tomorrow, the company would be under my name.

His gun-roughened hands burned against my waist, every breath laced with the cold, unyielding possession that had made him the most feared Cosa Nostra Don in all of Sicily. A shrill ring sliced through the haze. He answered in guttural Sicilian. It was the dialect I’d learned years ago to fit into his world, so I caught every word. His consigliere was screaming down the line at him for filing a valid, legally binding marriage license with Sofia Lombardi, the woman who’d abandoned him when a bomb left him mute for seven years. Luca’s order was cold as a trigger pull. “Secure the original license in the family vault. Draw up a forged, null-and-void marriage license for Isa to keep her compliant.” In the eyes of the law, of his entire crew, I was nothing but his mistress. After seven years of laying down my life for him, I’d been reduced to nothing but his mistress. Another call flashed. Luca turned to me, the lie already shaping his mouth. “Family matters. The guards will see you home.” Without a word, I stepped out into the Palermo night, my hands shaking as I dialed his mother, Anna Vitali. “I’ll take your fifty million euros. I’ll leave Luca. For good.” Anna once said Luca and I were worlds apart. I had to admit she was right. This time, I want to leave with dignity.

There's an unwritten rule in the Chicago Outfit. The Don never keeps a mistress for more than a hundred days. When the hundred days are up, the women he’s finished with always take the money and leave quietly. Once, someone asked him, unwilling to accept it: “Why?” Santino Falcone smiled softly.“Because I love my wife.” Everyone knew that his wife of seven years was his weak spot. But this new mistress wouldn’t behave.Emboldened by his favor, she sent me a taunting text message. “Arabella, isn’t your husband cute when he’s asleep in my arms?I’ve got plenty more photos. I can send them to you if you want.” “I’m his one true love. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll step down and give me your place as his wife.” I didn’t argue with her.Instead, I generously gave her my wedding ring. Because what she didn't know was that I had gotten my memory back. I was never the orphan Santino saved. I am the long-lost princess of New York’s most powerful family, missing for seven years. In three days, my brother Matteo’s armored motorcade will arrive in Chicago to take me home.