One Sided Story Novels & Stories

Because I was alone and terrified and I did not see another way out. But the tabloids do not care about any of that. They just want a story. And I am the villain in this one.

Despite my dissatisfaction with her previous rude behavior, my focus alternated between the lamp and the king, intrigued by the unusual object she was carrying. I never heard much about the Alpha King. I allowed that matter to rest deep inside the pages of my history books that I haven't picked up yet. History, for me, was difficult to understand and memorize. Thus, I can only envision effectively based on stories from people. Moreover, the stories contained within those books often present just one perspective—the viewpoint of the victors. Rarely do they provide insight into the other side of the story, the experiences of the enemies, and the usurped.

“Then why does it feel like the first right thing we’ve done since we ran?” I met his gaze. In the fading light, his face was all stark lines and shadows, the face of the man who had chosen the minefield with me. “Because we’re not just hiding anymore. We’re fighting back with the only thing she can’t buy: our story. Our messy, imperfect, true story.”

And wrote: *“The boy who hurt me didn’t get the last word. The one who stayed silent had to listen. And the one I’m still learning to trust… stood beside me while I faced them both. This story doesn’t belong to the people who tried to steal it anymore. It belongs to me.”*

"Why can't I remember anything from that night? Was it meant to be like that? Is it a side effect of sleeping with someone who used the substance?" The Old Seer said nothing at first. Instead, he slowly closed his eyes, his breathing evening out as though he were reaching into something unseen… something far beyond them. Silence filled the room. Behind them, Beta Thorne rolled his eyes slightly before leaning lazily against the old creaking wall. He folded his arms across his chest, watching everything with quiet interest. After a few moments, the Old Seer opened his eyes. "The substance has no side effect on other people except the one who took it."

“Now this one…” He shook his head, almost impressed, almost unsettled. “This one’s mad.” He leaned back against the counter, gripping the edge of the book a little tighter. There was something about this story that didn’t feel heavy like the last one. It was still intense, but cleaner. Sharper. “Man went in for a job… came out with something else entirely,” he muttered. Adam ran a hand over his chin, thinking it through. It wasn’t about control this time. Not like before. This one felt… equal. Two people walking into the same moment for completely different reasons and meeting right in the middle of it.

The limits are limited for everyone who doesn't care what a blessing is for can't understand why they were sent into this world but because few people try this kind of stupidity we always found a new and a great story. As you can have my own example, I'm telling you the story of that one person who alone triumphs the world and also I'm telling you about the one who doesn't care about the value of human blood, or maybe he knows…,? Who knows!? Finally they reach the place where they wanted to, Jenny has something in her mind. She is thinking what if the address is not right, what if the man is the culprit who’s sitting inside in his house, and other confusing thoughts are floating in her head.

The realization landed strangely. Not with triumph. Not with satisfaction. Just understanding. For the first time since the article, Serena felt as though she was finally seeing the shape of the battlefield. Not the version presented to the public. Not the headlines. Not the narratives. The actual thing beneath it. Messier. Older. Far more personal. And infinitely more dangerous. Because stories were manageable. People were not. Especially when they loved each other. Especially when they claimed they didn't.

"Sounds like your mother and my mother could be best friends." I squint my eyes deviously, remembering the many risqué stories about Max. "Yeah, I'm sure you'd just use your mom to get into my mom's pants or something." I twist my lips in knowing. My favorite story about Max was how he pulled off sleeping with twins on the same night, thinking they were the same girl and neither of them knew about it. His jaw parts in a sexy way as he wipes the counter leisurely, his shoulder muscles flexing from the movement.

“Huh? Someone you like? I doubt that.” The last said, shaking her head while staring at me with doubt filled eyes. “Why don't you believe me?” “If you really had a woman you like, she would like you too. And if that's the case, I'm sure she wouldn't let you be out here drinking almost every night. Unless, it is a one-sided love on your part.” I raised my brow, at last instantly. “One sided love, you say? How much do you know about love? Listen, I was the first, but I was overthrown! So, it's not a one-sided love as you think.”