Kpop Idols That Are Scorpios Novels & Stories

I was reborn the year the Blood Moon War began. The first thing I did? I sacrificed my child. The child of my blood-bonded mate, Lord Lucius of the Covenant. In my last life, he chose to protect his childhood sweetheart, Lilith, when she slept with a werewolf. He stole my pureblood heir and replaced it with her half-breed mongrel. They branded me a traitor. In a sun-scorched dungeon, they burned my scarred body to ash with holy light. And my own son, his mind poisoned by Lilith, stood on my ashes and cursed me to Hell for all eternity. When I opened my eyes again, the blood ritual for my heir was already three months along. I didn't hesitate. I went straight to a witch, and with a potion brewed from my own heart's blood, I ended it. Then, I put on something else: an expensive amulet of Blood Illusion. It faked the energy of a pureblood fetus. It masked my true state, cloaking me in the sweet, alluring scent of a pregnant vampire. It even created a perfect illusion of a growing belly. Lucius needed an heir to cover for Lilith’s crime. Fine. I’d play along. This time, I had no weaknesses.

While my husband, Gerald Brown, was abroad negotiating a business deal, he was drugged and spent the night with a female secretary from a rival company. The drug’s side effects scrambled his memory so badly that he forgot who I was. He kicked me out of the master bedroom and let the secretary smash my grandmother’s heirloom. I told myself he was sick and stayed silently by his side. But when I suggested taking him for a medical checkup, he hit me for the first time. “Who do you think you are? Only Ailey is allowed to touch me. If she gets jealous, you’ll regret it.” When the secretary framed me, he pushed me down the stairs, and I suffered a miscarriage. Late one night, when my heart condition flared up, I went to his study for medicine but overheard him talking to his friend outside the door. “Faking amnesia to bring Ailey home is one thing, but why replace your wife’s heart medication? Now, she’ll never return to the hospital for surgery.” Gerald just chuckled. “If I don’t keep her weak, she’ll go to the hospital and check the hospital records and find out I was never drugged. Ailey’s been timid since childhood and even went undercover for me in a rival company. I can’t betray her.”

For my birthday, I got a gift box. Inside was a dead silver fox. Its fur was peeled away. Dark, profane runes were carved into its flesh. My wolf cried out in agony, then shattered. I desperately reached for my Alpha, Darian, through our mate bond. “Darian… help me… My wolf… my heart…” His response was ice cold. “Maeve, stop being so dramatic. It’s just a prank. A Luna should be stronger than this. Amara has a fever. I’m with her.” He just cut the bond. He chose his childhood friend over me. Her mate had recently died, and she only had a low-grade fever. I was left to collapse in agony. I didn't get help until a pack beta found me and rushed me to the medical center. It took me three whole days to recover. When Darian finally came back, reeking of Amara’s sweet perfume, he sneered at me. "I knew you were faking it. How could a dead fox hurt you? You just wanted to stop me from comforting her!" I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream. I just handed him a document to sign. Compensation, I said, for choosing Amara over me. He signed it without even looking. "Is this about money? Don't be another jealous she-wolf. Don't cause trouble for me. I can give you anything. Amara and I grew up together. She's important to me. You know that." I just nodded. I didn't say a word. The next day, he took Amara to an Alpha-only alliance dinner. Pictures were all over the werewolf social feeds. He had no idea what he’d signed. It wasn’t a compensation agreement. It was a rejection of our mate bond. I counted down the three days. I calmly packed my most precious things. Then, I pulled out my burner phone. “Uncle Marcus? I need a private jet to the South.”

At her bachelorette party, Lucille had a one-night stand with an unknown man. Waking up, she learns that she's also married to the man. Because it's her wedding, Lucille abandons the man and promised never to cross paths with him again but during her wedding, she learns that the man she had a one-night stand with, is her husband's twin brother, Kyle! To keep their One-night-stand stand a secret, Kyle demanded three things from Lucille. One, she will be his sex toy to always compensate him whenever he is horny. Two, she will work as a stripper in his lounge to VIP customers. Three, she must do the two things listed above, otherwise, he will upload her sex video and make it go viral! Will Lucille accept this condition? Will she cheat on the man she loves and married to just to keep her secret hidden forever? Are you a type that enjoys seeing your male lead jealous? This story is for you!

It was our tenth anniversary, and I thought Joseph Lynch was finally going to propose to me. However, I accidentally saw the texts on his phone and realized what a joke I had been these past ten years. [It’s our first anniversary. Darling, I want you to spend time with me.] That woman uttered such sweet and intimate words, which I rarely said to Joseph. [I’ll give her some sleeping pills before I see you.] I could not believe Joseph would say such a thing. My fingers trembled as I scrolled down their conversation. [Don’t marry her. Marry me instead!] Then, she sent him a cute and attractive photo of her. She looked like a student. [Let’s see how you behave tonight. I bought you some new lingerie. Be good and put them on. Wait for me next door.] I was wearing some ill-fitting undies while sitting in bed. Right then, I was filled with bitterness. It turned out that Joseph had bought these undies for someone else.

Jarrel Grayson is a successful beach resort owner and teen heartthrob single dad to his four-year-old son, Jarshel. He can give his son everything—money, comfort, and luxury. But with all that he can give, he knows something is missing. Jarshel requires a mother. Resolute to finish his son's life, Jarrel starts looking for the ideal woman to take on the role. Unbeknownst to him, however, Jarshel had already picked someone—his teacher, Kai Mendoza. A woman from Jarrel's past. A past he had believed he had long buried.

My fiance, Eric Powell, hopes that I can give up on my spot as a candidate and transfer him the 5% of shares I have in order to become the biggest shareholder in the company. He promises me that once everything is done, he'll host the grandest wedding of the century for me. I accept his conditions. But the next day, I notice his first love, Eunice Decker, posting a share transfer agreement on her social media feed. Eric's name can be seen scrawled on the person who's making the transfer. After a brief moment of shock, I leave a comment. "Now that you've already accepted his proposal gift, when can we attend your wedding?" Eunice breaks down on the spot. Then, she screams about wanting to jump off the 22nd floor. In order to coax her, Eric demands that I delete my comment immediately and apologize to Eunice in front of everyone. He also wants to pay Eunice my three months' worth of salary just to compensate for her mental health. All of my colleagues begin murmuring to each other, hoping to see me humiliate myself on the spot. I let out a cold chuckle. But not only do I apologize to Eunice, but I also take the initiative to transfer the project I'm in charge of to her. Having noted how understanding I am, Eric says to me happily, "I'll definitely make sure that you're the center of the attention in our upcoming wedding that will be held half a month later. On top of that, I'll also reward you with a honeymoon around the globe!" What he doesn't know is that our wedding will never exist the moment he decides to absorb my shares.

My husband's gym was celebrating its grand opening, so I grabbed my best friend and headed over under the guise of "checking the place out," armed with a $10 trial class we had snagged from a group deal. I never once mentioned that I was the owner's wife. The moment we wrapped up the workout, a female trainer slapped a price sheet into our hands and gave us a look that could cut glass. "Let me guess, you two came here to milk the freebies? Our private training sessions cost hundreds. They're not here for people like you to exploit." I let out a disbelieving laugh. "We bought a perfectly valid trial class. How does that make us freeloaders? Get your manager." She rolled her eyes, acting like she was the rules. "Call whoever you want! The owner is my boyfriend, and he can't stand penny-pinchers who show up trying to mooch off his gym." Then, right in front of us, she called him—voice raised, dramatic, dripping with fake indignation. "Babe, there are two cheapskates in your gym demanding the manager. Come deal with them for me!"

My wife's family ran on the old logic: sons mattered, daughters were a tax. They called my five-year-old daughter "the cash drain" to her face. On New Year's Day, my wife told me my daughter was donating a kidney to her cousin. I was about to lose it on every adult in that room when something appeared in the air in front of me, a column of text only I could see: [Is this woman seriously the mother? She says it's a kidney transplant, but she actually wants the kid's heart.] [If I had a mom like that I'd have cut her off years ago.]

I sponsored Emily Fagan from an underprivileged background just to help her get through school. She was good-looking but wasn't exactly the brightest. Despite my warning not to tamper with my things, she slipped stimulants into my water bottle. Thanks to her, I was accused of cheating in the swimming competition. Our team's score was nullified. As for me, I was banned from competing for life and kicked out of college. When I confronted her, she cried pitifully, "Julie, I just wanted you to win. I didn't know that'd happen." My boyfriend, Elijah Strauss, held her and comforted her. He even snapped at me, claiming, "Em had good intentions. Why are you giving her a hard time?" Crushed, I shut myself in at home. Feeling sorry, she and Elijah visited me and brought along some vodka as an apology. After I took ten shots, I asked her to buy some over-the-counter pain relievers for my splitting headache. Little did I know that she'd make me take a dangerous dose of Ibuprofen mixed with alcohol. The bleeding in my stomach was what killed me. Emily looked pitifully remorseful at the hospital. "I'm so sorry. I couldn't even tell what I shouldn't have given her…" During the police interrogation, my boyfriend gave false testimony to protect her. He accused me of taking my own life by mixing Ibuprofen and alcohol because I couldn't handle the mental stress from cheating in the competition. When I reopened my eyes, I found out that I was transported to the day before the competition.