I Was Pregnant After Divorce Novels & Stories

Octava is a human married to the Alpha of her pack, she had been married to Alpha Jakeson and had been unable to give him a child for the past five years that they had been married, rejected and left to fend for herself, Octava is rescued by an unknown woman who happened to be her mother, the Lycan Luna.

After Cain called off our mate-bonding ceremony for the ninth time—calling it off for the sake of his childhood sweetheart—the Alpha himself came to the Abel family estate to deliver an apology in person. "We are prepared to offer an additional 300kg of frost iron, three hunting territories west of Silvermoon Forest, and nine forges in the pack compound," he announced. "Consider this reparations for the nine broken betrothals." Before his words even faded, Cain's laughter crackled through the phone speaker. "Dad, is she honestly worth that kind of price? I could toss her a half-rotted beast bone soaked in moonlight and she'd still come crawling. You'd be better off funneling those resources into Lina's beast-training arena." The old Alpha ended the call without a second thought. His golden wolf eyes shifted toward me, heavy with visible unease. The gathered wolves stifled their snickers, their throats rippling with suppressed laughter. Every pair of eyes fixed on me, gleaming with anticipation of the show. They all expected me to swallow the humiliation, just as I always had. After all, every wolf in Silvermoon Pack knew the tale: I, the Abel family daughter, had been pining for Cain, the Alpha King's youngest son, for years. Pathetic and devoted. But I'd endured this exact scene eight times before. I was done with it. And more than that, I was done with him. A beat of silence passed. Then I lifted my gaze, searching the crowd until I found the one face Cain despised most: his older brother, Cass. A slow smile curved my lips. "Whoever I claim as my mate inherits the Alpha title," I said. "Does that promise still stand?"

Three days after my boyfriend’s adopted sister died a tragic death, I clutched a so-called "hush money" check in my hand and became an accomplice in everyone’s eyes. My boyfriend once knelt in the pouring rain to beg me, and his sister’s five-year-old daughter cried and begged me to testify, but I refused them both. Ten years later, when I was dying of cancer, my boyfriend had become a billionaire. The first thing he did upon returning to the country was to forcibly extract my memories, even though I would suffer endless pain. "Elara, you vain, heartless monster! Lily and I must have been blind to ever treat you like family!" "Lily has been dead for ten years, and you’ve been walking free with that dirty money the whole time!" "Today, I’m going to find out exactly who paid you off—the person you protected just for money!" My boyfriend held a press conference to publicly crucify me for my crimes. But after seeing the whole truth, he went completely insane.

THIS STORY CONTAINS EXPLICIT SEX SCENES. READER DISCRETION ADVISED. I Was Never Yours is an emotional romance story about love, power, and emotional survival in a world where affection can feel like control. Amara once believed in love with her whole heart. She believed in promises made under soft lights, in quiet conversations that felt like forever, and in a future she thought was guaranteed by a man who made her feel deeply chosen, until he didn’t. Julian is a man shaped by control, success, and emotional distance. To him, vulnerability is weakness, and love is something he can manage rather than surrender to. Years ago, Amara and Julian shared something intense but undefined, a relationship built on emotional closeness without public labels or clear promises. It was passionate, quiet, and dangerously addictive in its secrecy. Then Julian walked away without explanation. Not with betrayal. Not with arguments. Just silence. Years later, fate forces them back into each other’s world when Amara becomes an employee in his powerful company. But time has changed everything. The girl who once waited quietly is gone. In her place stands a woman who understands emotional survival, boundaries, and self-worth. Now the power has shifted. Julian wants her back, not just as a lover, but as someone he can emotionally possess again. He begins careful, strategic moves to stay close to her, protect her, and slowly pull her back into his emotional orbit. But Amara has learned something dangerous from heartbreak. She can love him… but she refuses to belong to him. As emotions resurface, both must confront healing, obsession, pride, and the question of whether love is about holding on or choosing each other again every day.

On our third wedding anniversary, I brought a gift to my husband’s office. Walking past the secretary's suite, I stopped dead. A king-size bed had been set up inside. A young woman in a designer dress was sprawled across it, a handheld game console in her hands, surrounded by imported snacks of every variety. "Kevin, the lunch you ordered yesterday was pre-packaged meals. Marcus and I both felt sick after eating it. Today, make sure it's from The Palace Hotel." Kevin -- my husband's personal assistant -- bowed and scraped before her, his face a mask of obsequious flattery. "Mrs. Thorne, please don't worry. Mr. Thorne made it very clear -- everything should be tailored to your preferences and the baby's. He knows you love the chef at The Palace Hotel, so he set up a standing VIP account for you. Anything you want, anytime." She was Mrs. Thorne? Then what exactly was I? My brow furrowed. I glanced down at the wedding ring I'd worn for years. The girl beamed, radiant. "For the baby's arrival, my husband is throwing a lavish yacht party. Every important person in New York is getting an invitation. I want the whole world to know that I'm the love of his life, and that our son will be blessed by the most powerful people before he's even born. The champagne and flowers must be the finest available -- no budget limit. Our child is going to have the best of everything from day one." I stared at the gentle swell of her belly and called my father. "Dad, that divorce agreement you drew up three years ago -- you can have the lawyers send it over now."

A young black girl with silver hair, who was raised by her loving mother until the age of 12, has been thrusted into the world of werewolves, on the account of her father being an Alpha. He only finds out about this daughter once her mother dies. But the strangest thing is, she has no wolf. She smells human, but she's definitely his. The alpha brought her to live with him, and during that time, they both discovered things about themselves that neither knew existed. She was never just "human," and his "mate" was never his to begin with. This human girl was, in fact, a long, foretold gift to the wovles and a destructive force on those who waged war on good.

My uncle, Jackson Yates, was a born pervert. While studying abroad, he was arrested for harassing female classmates and making lewd comments toward a female teacher. He was expelled and sent back home. After returning to the country, under the protection of my billionaire grandfather, he lived like an emperor, keeping hundreds of lovers in a villa. All of them vied for his attention. One day, he set his sights on my gentle, well-mannered wife—the rumored piano prodigy, Janelle Sanders. “My dear nephew, all because you grabbed your grandpa’s hand during your first birthday party game, the entire family chose you as the future heir. But as long as I don’t agree, you’ll never succeed.” He constantly harassed her, both verbally and physically. Janelle never tolerated it. She reported him to the police several times, resulting in him getting detained. She even scolded him sternly, “Cyril and I grew up together. Uncle Jackson, please remember your place!” Out of respect for his seniority, Janelle usually just reprimanded him coldly and walked away. Two years later, Jackson seemed to change. He took the initiative to manage a subsidiary and handled everything with impressive efficiency. Grandfather was pleased and handed the entire branch over to him. Just when I thought everything had returned to normal… At our son’s one-month celebration banquet, I saw Janelle in the kitchen. She was dressed provocatively as she desperately pressed herself against Jackson. Jackson lifted his head from her chest and gave me a smug smile.

Three years after getting out of prison, Zoe Sanders finally found me in an underground fight club. The moment she saw me, she grabbed me by the collar and punched me across the face, her eyes burning red with fury. "Henry Goldman, who gave you the nerve to disappear like this? "And what the hell have you done to yourself?" I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth and laughed carelessly. "One punch, one hundred thousand. "If you’re still angry, feel free to keep going. I could use the money for this year’s rent." Her fists trembled uncontrollably, but her voice softened. "Come home with me... apologize to Ronald Green. "He’s always been kind-hearted. He already forgave you for framing him." Her gaze swept over the scars covering my body, something unreadable flickering in her eyes. "Look at yourself. Covered in blood like this... what’s the difference between you and a stray dog digging through garbage?" My body stiffened. Then I turned and walked away. What she did not know was this: In prison, blood and violence were the only ways I learned to survive. "Don’t forget," she shouted after me, "I’m still your fiancée!" My footsteps stopped. How could I forget? Three years ago, on the night of our engagement, Ronald drugged me and sent me to a black-market auction. I was stripped of all dignity and sold like merchandise. That night, I became the laughingstock of the entire city. And the person who signed the papers that sold me… was my fiancée herself.

"Mrs. Sterling, are you sure you're ready to end this marriage of twenty years and give up the custody?" "Yes. File it. I’m done." I said calmly through the phone as I scrubbed at a stubborn grease stain on the granite island. For twenty years, I poured my entire being into this family. I managed the households, handled the children's education , and stood by my husband's side, supporting his rise in the syndicate without complaint. But my husband Alexander brought his young adopted sister Chloe to the interview, saying, "My success today is all thanks to my adopted sister." Even my own children looked down on me, calling me common and crude housewife. They had formed an alliance with his ever-present "auntie," the woman who seemed to think she was the true lady of the house. I signed the divorce papers and walked away, leaving them to become the "perfect family" they clearly wanted. But that when the family panicked…

For twenty years, Kyle and I were each other’s salvation. On the day he confessed his feelings, he promised to give me a warm and loving home. However, everything changed when the Gill family found him and brought him back, naming him the Crown Prince of High Society. Overnight, I went from being his proud fiancée to nothing more than his hidden canary in a gilded cage. With another woman in his arms, his voice was cold and distant, “The eldest young master of the Gill family can’t marry an orphan.” At that moment, my heart shattered completely. I left the capital that very night. Later, I heard I had become the Gill family’s unspoken taboo. That once-proud Young Master Gill ended up confined to a mental institution, clinging to a doll and whispering my name day after day.