Ninja Table Novels & Stories

Ten years to the day we were mated, Eric came home wearing the scent of his first love. He wrapped me in his scorching heat, his voice a hoarse whisper against my ear. "I want you, Lyra." He hadn't marked me on a full moon in so long. But right now, the scent of another she-wolf on him was a bitter ache in my chest. The dinner I'd prepared for our full moon ritual was swept off the table by our cub, River. He looked at me with his father’s cold expression. "Mom, your cooking doesn’t even come close to Auntie Aurora’s." Aurora. The first love Eric could never forget. The one he'd brazenly appointed as CFO of our pack's corporation. They were the perfect pair, flaunting their connection for all to see. And I, his true mate, had become the pack's laughingstock. For ten years, I played the part of the perfect mate and mother, only to become a shadow in my own home. That night, I filed the request to the Elders. I would sever the mate bond。 Later, under the brilliant Alaskan aurora, I received Eric's frantic mind link. "Lyra, what about River if you leave?" I let out a small laugh. " River only needs you." "Your first love is back, isn't she? Let her be the mother. I'm free."

"Sign the papers, Estella." Marco slid the divorce papers across the mahogany table, his eyes fixed on Claudia, who hovered by his side with a victorious smile. "Did you really think a nobody like you could keep me?" Estella's throat tightened as she forced herself to meet his gaze. The diamond on Claudia's finger caught the light—his best friend now wearing what should have been hers forever. "You should be grateful," Claudia murmured, resting a hand on her belly. "Letting you go is the kindest thing we've done for you." When Estella married into the powerful Valdez family, she believed in love conquering all. Instead, she found herself cast out, Helena Valdez herself showing her the door when Claudia announced her pregnancy. Then Alejandro De Luca appeared—Marco's sworn enemy offering an unexpected proposition. "A contract marriage," he said simply. "You get protection. I get revenge." Together, they plotted to dismantle the very family that had humiliated her. With each calculated move, Estella reclaimed pieces of herself she thought lost forever. But revenge is a dangerous game. As their plan unfolded and tragedy struck, Estella discovered that survival meant more than settling scores—it meant learning to wield her pain as power. The quietest heart, after all, often hides the most dangerous storm.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

At the ceremony where my father, Robert Clarke, is promoted to the position as the pack elder, my mate, Alpha Ethan Thornfield, raises the wine glass in his hand while smiling at him. "Elder Robert, there's this question which has been bothering me for the longest time. Does shamelessness run in the Clarke family's genetics? Otherwise, how are you able to raise a she-wolf as stubborn and defiant as Isabella who keeps pestering me the whole time?" Dad's wine glass is suspended in mid-air. All the wolves turn to look at us. I place the napkin on the table before meeting Ethan's gaze calmly. "Stop barking like a mad dog, Ethan. I agree to sever our mate bond. That way, you and that mistress of yours can finally get together." Ethan replies softly, "It's wonderful to see you making that decision with a sound mind." On the night the ceremony ends, a mate bond severance agreement, which is prepared in advance, is passed to me. Silently, I drop my signature on the last page of the document. Ethan and that Omega, Chloe Stonehart, have started their affair a year ago. He started forcing me to sever our mate bond six months ago. Since he craves freedom that much, I shall grant it to him. I just hope that he won't regret his decision at all when he loses everything he treasures.

From as far back as I can remember, I knew my mom hated me. She gives me sleeping pills when I'm three. When I'm five, she tries pesticide instead. But I'm hard to get rid of. By the time I'm seven, I've already learned how to fight back. If she refuses to give me food, I flip the table so no one can eat either. If she beats me up until I'm on the ground, writhing in pain, I go after her beloved son the same way, leaving him bruised and bawling. That's how we stay locked in battle until I turn 12. Everything changes when my youngest sister is born. I'm clumsily trying to help with her wet diaper when Mom suddenly shoves me against the wall. The look in her eyes holds both disgust and fear. "What were you trying to do to my daughter? I knew it. You take after that monster of a father. Why didn't you just die with him?" I hold my aching head. For the first time, I don't fight back. I believe she's right. My existence is a mistake. I should never have been alive.

“I don’t want you. I hate you.” Those words from her only son slice deeper than any blade. Sarah returns from the hospital expecting love, only to find her place at the family table stolen. Her husband, James, stands arm in arm with Tiana — his late brother’s widow, while her son clings to the other woman’s waist, rejecting his own mother. The betrayal does not end there. After a confrontation with Tiana, she woke up in an abandoned building, her hands tied, and mouth taped. Beside her was Tiana too. Tied. James stood, his confused gaze darting from Tiana to Sarah. And then came the baritone voice from one of the kidnappers: “One life. One choice. You can only save one. Choose!” Sarah turned, seeing how Tiana was communicating with the kidnappers with her eyes. She struggled to let James see the truth; that this was all a setup. But she couldn’t. Her mouth was tapped. But then, like a match striking steel, James’ voice came brittle and final. “Tiana.” He chose his ex over his own wife. Over the mother of his child. Sarah was abandoned in the warehouse. Immediately they left, the warehouse exploded, covered in flames. And Sarah’s screams and cries inside, filled the night. Did Sarah survive the fire outbreak? If she did, can they stand her revenge when she finally returns?

When my husband and I drop by his childhood home for Christmas dinner, my mother-in-law, Melissa Potter, is the only one busying away in the kitchen. Everyone else is on their phones. I've just taken a seat when Melissa begins to lecture me. "What, are you just going to sit your ass down and wait for food to come? Don't you know when to lend a helping hand? Am I supposed to exhaust myself for your sake?" From time to time, she keeps rattling the pots and pans loudly. "I can't believe those with healthy bodies want a 70-year-old like me to serve them! Does anyone here have any conscience?" Feeling a little uneasy, I gave my husband a tiny nudge. "Why don't you help Mom out?" After Melissa hears my suggestion, she gets even more pissed off. Thinking that this is my first Christmas with my in-laws, I don't really want to cause a scene here, so I get up to my feet and help her out. But the moment I enter the kitchen, Melissa delegates all the tasks to me. I endure my fury as much as I can while finishing the Christmas dinner preparations. When I'm about to head back to the dining table and dig in, Melissa suddenly speaks up. "Hold up. We got scores to settle before dinner."

“What if I choose not to?” I asked. “You don't want your little secret to get out, do you.” he raised a brow. “No, I don't.” I said, dropping my head. “Good.” he said, and snapped his fingers. A young man walked up to our table with a briefcase in his grip. Conrad received the briefcase from him, and placed it on the table. He unlocked and turned it to me. In the briefcase were wads of cash. “I believe this is good for a start.” he said. “Also, I'll help you get rid of that scar on your face. So what do you say? Do we have a deal or not?” ********************* One minute, Lauren was preparing to leave home for her friend's birthday party. And the next? She is a murderer. Faced with the chance of spending the rest of her life behind bars, she's approached by Conrad Anderson — son of the man whom she murdered. He offers her a deal: help him get some information from the CEO of Beamers Industries — Thomas Roy, by becoming his secretary and he would keep her secret safe with a promise to help her get rid of the scar on her face. But when she realizes that she's nothing but a pawn in Conrad's game of revenge, would she terminate the deal, and suffer for her sins, or would she help him get the information which he needs to ruin Thomas's life completely?

My older brother, Ethan Earnhart, was the Alpha of the Shadow Pack. Right now, he was slicing my chest open with a silver surgical blade. Beside him, my adopted sister, Sara, had tear-filled eyes. "Elina went as far as faking her own death just to escape the loan sharks. She even used the body of a disfigured rogue." Ethan's gaze was filled with disgust. He pointed at the bruises covering my body, marks left when I was alive, and explained calmly to the young healer beside him. "Look. This is what happens to a traitor who betrays the pack and sleeps with filthy rogues. Elina, being the liar she's always been, even found a stand-in for her little performance." My wolf soul hovered beside the operating table and watched in despair as he handled my body the way one would process prey. 'Ethan, that really is me. I was trying to retrieve something you lost. That was why they–' "Check the stomach contents," Ethan said flatly as he cut open my stomach. Unexpectedly, there was no food residue. Instead, there was a single ring. It was corroded black by stomach acid, but the emblem engraved on it was unmistakable. It was the Alpha heirloom Ethan had lost five years ago. I had swallowed it just before I died. I had to protect that secret even if I were dead. Ethan's hand trembled violently while holding the forceps. He tore into my facial flesh like a madman. "Elina?"

Inside the tattoo studio, Seth Jones let his fingertips trace the dip of Rita Searle's waist and move slowly up her spine. With a soft rustle, her dress slipped to her ankles. He stood over her, taking in the blood-red rose inked across her chest. They had been married for three years, and this was the anniversary gift he'd be giving her—999 roses tattooed into her skin. A broken sob scraped up Rita's throat. "Seth, it hurts… Please, stop…" Her tears splashed onto the back of his hand, but he only pressed the needle deeper, dragging it along until angry red welts marked her body. "Victor wanted those damn roses so he could give them to another woman, and that led to Tara falling off that cliff and ending up in a vegetative state. I'm just giving him what he wanted. You should be grateful." Lying on the cold tattoo table, Rita felt the chill spreading through her. Her eyes stung, weighed down by grief churning behind them. "Isn't it enough? You bought out Searle Group, you hung Victor over a cliff, and left him for the vultures. What else do you want from us?" Seth grabbed her by the throat and forced her chin up. "And isn't Tara innocent in all this? Rita, you and Victor destroyed her life. Don't you owe her for that?"

“It’s our anniversary today. I planned our day together,” I declare. “I have work to do,” “But I asked your PA to clear your schedule for the day,” “That’s the thing. You made plans behind my back without talking to me about it first, Ariel,” He then walks past me and walks out of the closet. “I thought I was doing something nice for you – for us at least. You have always worked so hard, so at least take this day off with me. We never got to celebrate our wedding anniversary,” I rebuke. He decides not to say anything. He opens his bag on the couch facing our bed and takes out a white A4 envelope, tossing it on the little table in the middle of our room. “Is it so hard for you to read the room all the time? How would you celebrate a wedding anniversary when there is no love between us? Are you not tired of all this pretence because I am!" He chastises. "That’s for you. Sign it so that we can get it over and done with,” With that said, he puts on his black sunglasses and walks out of the room. Only then do I breathe out the air I didn’t even know I was holding. I’m confused and, most of all, hurt. I didn’t see this coming. I drop my eyes on the envelope with bold printed letters of the name of the law firm our lawyer works at.