Lori Loud Sad Novels & Stories

“What did you say, little omega? I didn’t quite hear you.” Grayson rushed after me and growled; he yanked me roughly by the hair and pulled me back to face him. Then grabbing me by the scruff of the neck. I didn’t whimper or make a sound. I looked down at the ground, careful not to meet his glare. I knew that would make him more furious and I had learnt not to do that a long time ago. I could feel the eyes of the cafeteria on me, waiting for my response. My heart raced in my chest as Grayson's grip tightened on my neck. But I refused to show any weakness. That is what he wanted—weakness to show how powerful he was. But he would never be as powerful as his brothers or the Alpha and he knew it. "I said you don't have the right to treat others like dirt, Grayson," I repeated, my voice loud and clear for everyone around us to hear. Eliza is nothing more than an omega at the Creek Pack. All her life she has been treated badly by everyone especially the Alpha quadruplets and the Beta’s daughter. Determined to leave as soon as she turns eighteen, she soon realises that the moon goddess has other plans for her. How will Eliza react when she finds out that she is mated to the alpha quadruplets who made it their mission to destroy her life from day one. Will they regret their actions and claim Eliza as theirs? Or will Eliza stick to her plans and leave her mates and Creek pack for good?

Addy Walker once believed love was supposed to be loud—felt in bedtime stories, laughter in the kitchen, and the warmth of arms that made the world feel safe. That’s how it was before her mother died. Before her father changed. Grief hollowed him out. The man who once teased and protected became a shell—quiet, cold, unreachable. Then came the bottles. The slammed doors. The bruises. Addy, now eighteen, has learned to survive in silence—walking lightly, speaking carefully, hiding her pain beneath long sleeves and polite smiles. She works long hours to keep food on the table while her father sinks deeper into debt and addiction. One night, she comes home to a dark, freezing house—again. The electricity is off. Again. And she knows why. She confronts him, her voice sharper than it’s ever been. He denies it at first, but the truth is already spread across the kitchen counter in final notice bills and losing betting slips. He’d gambled away the electric bill money on a horse. The argument erupts. He screams, she stands her ground. When he slaps her, she doesn’t flinch. Something inside her shifts. She’s done waiting for the man he used to be. Addy packs a bag. She’s leaving—for real this time. No plan. No destination. Just freedom. But as she storms out into the rain, a long, black car pulls up to the curb. A man steps out—tall, broad-shouldered, older. His face is hard, almost frightening in the shadows, but he’s striking. Dangerous. And calm.

The music made the speakers tremble, the floor vibrated with the rumble of the sound and the jumps of the crazy people. Each one in their own world, dancing together, dancing separately. Enjoying music, company and alcohol. I danced alone, with a drink in hand. Gliding, moving my hips to the rhythm of the music, not paying much attention to anything or anyone around me. Just enjoying that moment of inner peace that I was needing and he was giving it to me. It was a respite, a window that I opened myself in my own cage to let in air and I knew that as soon as I left the club the window would close and I would lock myself back in my world without fresh air. Therefore, he enjoyed everything he could. Alone. With eyes closed. Sweating the bad energy that others left me and breathing the good vibes that I had to give myself. They were approaching me. I drove them away. They invited me. I rejected them. they spoke to me I silenced them. I just wanted to dance and they were going to have to respect that. It was amazing how loud music could be my oxygen tank. It silenced my thoughts, freed me from tensions. There was nothing more relaxing in my life than dancing with my eyes closed and the volume turned up to a thousand. I twirled, I jumped, I wiggled, I hummed, and I sang. The brightly colored lights flickered making it difficult to see, but it was what I liked the most, going blind for an instant, forgetting that I had the ability to see the world, a false, disastrous and difficult world.

Five months after my husband, Ian Goldman, is declared dead, my mother-in-law takes me to the hospital. She registers me for an induced abortion. With reddened and tearful eyes, she tries to persuade me to terminate my pregnancy. She says, "Sofia, he's gone. You have to move on with your life. End the pregnancy now, and I'll find you a good husband." I clutch the consent form in my hand without saying a word. Then, all of a sudden, a childish voice rings in my ears. "Mom! Don't get rid of me! Dad isn't dead at all!" I freeze like I've been hit by a bolt of lightning. The abortion form slips from my fingers and falls to the floor. "Dad is at the care center in the suburbs of the city. They're almost done brainwashing him into becoming someone else's husband! In our previous life, you believed Grandma and never went to find Dad. I was never born. "When Dad eventually learned the truth, he almost lost his mind!" Without a second thought, I rush to the care center with my heavily pregnant belly. Just as a nurse stops me outside a training room, I see a woman holding Ian's hand. She is speaking to him in a gentle voice. "Don't be nervous, Captain Goldman. You can only start over once you forget the people from your past." I lift my foot and kick the tightly shut door wide open with a loud bang.

“I want a divorce, Sera. It’s time we both moved on.” She had heard those words before, rehearsed in the cold space between them, in the silences that stretched too long over dinner, in the way he never quite looked at her anymore. But hearing them out loud was different. Hearing them made it real. Sera Calloway had spent four years being the perfect wife. Quiet when she should have been loud. Patient when she should have been angry. She had loved Elliot with the kind of love that asks for nothing — and received exactly that in return. She thought their marriage was simply struggling. Broken, maybe. But still theirs. Until she found out it was never only theirs to begin with. Another woman. Another home. Another life he had carefully built in the hours she never thought to question. She hadn’t screamed. Hadn’t shattered. She had simply gone still, the way a person does when the ground disappears beneath them and there is nothing left to hold onto. Sera left without a word. No ultimatums. No tears he would ever see. Because some heartbreaks are too deep for noise. Now Elliot is unraveling. The life he thought he could keep — the one he hid behind — is falling apart without the woman he took for granted holding everything together. He never knew what she was. Not really. Not until she was gone. And now the question isn’t whether he still loves her. The question is — did Sera ever stop?

"t-they will k-kill me , pl-please save me . Please" She begged in front of him and almost fell on his knee he kept on Looking at her and inhaling on the cigar for a longer time. Red eyed fixed on her teary ones as he smoked out the nicotine stick . He scoffed at her pathetic state , so weak !! Too much innocent but that's the exact thing he hated the most . He hates weak people . "P-please , I ...I beg y-you" she started sobbing hard Looking down while he throws the cigar on his feet and stepped on it ... "She must be somewhere here , get her" they heard someone , clear as crystal . His eyes looked on the direction , of the source of sound . And her eyes got widen in horror . They are coming to kill her and there will be no one to protect her . "Come on Wifey , isn't this what married couple supposed to do on their wedding night?" Timothy said as his lips were ghosting on her neck . Every inch of her skin were shivering and hands trembling in fear. The fear which she faced years ago , when her dignity were ripping apart . Loud scream , yelling for help , when the monster was biting and feasting her like a meal . Layla tighten her lips and cleanched the bedsheets , Hoping this will end soon . "I never admire your beauty Darling , you're so beautiful . Damn I was blind all the time looking at those whores when I already have the most beautiful girl on earth. Join the journey of Laila Davis and Timothy Salvatore .

Grandpa will be announcing his will at his birthday banquet. Apparently, I only possess the right to inherit the family's assets if I'm in a stable relationship with someone. I beg my girlfriend, Hannah Samson, countless times to have our relationship publicized. But she keeps using her overtime shift as an excuse. Today, she finally yields to me. "Alright. You should attend the family meeting first. I'll be there soon." The moment I step into the manor on my own, I hear my relatives' mocking laughter surrounding me. "You keep claiming that you're busy with your career every day. To think that you can't even bring your own girlfriend to this meeting! You do realize that your inheritance right depends on your partner, right? "Don't tell me you lied to us about having a girlfriend!" I clutch my phone tightly, feeling my palm going clammy with sweat. Time slowly ticks past. Just as Grandpa is about to read his will out loud, someone pushes the front door open abruptly. I turn around in delight, only for my smile to freeze on my face. Isaac Letterman, the fake heir, smiles wanly at everyone, his hand still laced with Hannah's. "Sorry, we're late." As I stare at the duo, I feel my heart plunging into an icy abyss. Then, I turn back to look at the relatives, who were mocking me earlier. "You said you wanted to see my girlfriend, right? That's her right there."

At the wedding, Victoria Langley's childhood friend, Spencer Calloway, catches the wedding bouquet that she's just tossed. He arches a brow at her. "Does this mean I'll have to propose to someone? Well then, Vic, are you willing to elope with me?" Victoria's bridesmaids begin cheering on him. Amid their loud cheers and giggles, they push Victoria into Spencer's arms. "Give us a kiss!" "What's with that shy look, Spencer? Didn't you bury your face into Victoria's chest and hold her while sleeping on the same bed at the bachelorette's party last night?" Victoria giggles as she pinches one of the bridesmaids. "What's with the ruckus? My husband is still here, you know!" But the tips of her ears have secretly gone red. Spencer's lips curl into a wicked smile as he shrugs nonchalantly. "I'm fine with it. It's just that a certain someone's mooch of a husband will be pissed." Only then does Victoria turn to look at me. She pinches me on the chin gently while saying to me casually, "C'mon, it's just a joke. Don't be so petty." Then, she declares, "Let's continue the wedding." But I wave Victoria's hand away coolly before taking the microphone from the wedding host. "Spencer wants to crash this wedding, right? Well, I'm taking everything seriously now." Three days later, Victoria's eyes become red-rimmed as she stands outside the courthouse. As for me, I've never looked back ever since.

The Beast Nation sent our royal family two beast slaves as a token of goodwill after they were defeated. My concubine-born younger sister took the tall and upstanding white tiger with piercing eyes, leaving me and the dying merman to look at each other. In my previous life, I took the merman as my personal bodyguard and trained him out of compassion. I spent a fortune to treat his injuries, and I even bought his slave contract at the price of ten cities and set him free. He also took great care of me, staying by my side day and night. I thought we were both in love, so I turned down dozens of marriages and stood by him with all my heart despite everyone's loud disapproval. However, when the beasts attacked again and threw my sister and me into the surging river, I frantically pleaded with the merman to save me, only to be violently slammed under the water by his massive tail. I watched helplessly as he carried my sister away. I realized at that moment that he had only given himself to me to save his own life. He had remained loyal to me even after regaining his freedom because he wanted to see my younger sister. I struggled in the filthy river, eventually suffocating as my lungs filled with mud and sand. When I reopened my eyes, I was transported back to the day of the beast slave selection. Looking at the dying merman, I covered my nose and taunted, "Where did this dead fish come from? It reeks!"

You could ask me if I’m in love with my brother’s best friend, and I’d tell you with a straight face, absolutely fucking not. Kane Wilder has been ruining my life since I was six years old. He cut off my pigtail, threw me into pools fully clothed, broke two of my fingers “practicing karate,” and scared away every guy who’s ever looked in my direction. He’s loud, reckless, impossible to control, and somehow always manages to drag me into his chaos. Unfortunately, he’s also been there for every scraped knee, every bad day, and every moment that mattered. We’ve spent years pretending we’re nothing more than enemies who happen to share the same last name by association. He’s my brother’s best friend, and I’ve spent my entire life reminding myself that he’s completely off-limits. Then one night at a college party changes everything. Suddenly, the teasing feels different. The stolen glances last a little too long. Every argument ends with us standing a little too close, and every touch leaves me questioning fifteen years of certainty. Falling for Kane Wilder was never part of the plan. Especially when loving him could cost me my brother, my family, and the only friendship that’s survived every fight we’ve ever had. Some lines are meant to be crossed. I just never thought he’d be the one asking me to cross them.